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zyafics · 4 months ago

Note

CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you

you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)

WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader

Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks

Word Count — 2.2K

lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller

You always wanted Rafe.

It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.

Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.

Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.

You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.

At least, in public.

You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.

And he did.

Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.

It drove him insane.

Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.

Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?

It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.

The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.

And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.

His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.

Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.

"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."

"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"

"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."

You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.

"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."

His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.

"You're not fucking me in a car."

"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.

"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."

He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.

"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.

"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."

"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"

"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."

You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.

Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.

And what he can do with it.

Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.

That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.

When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.

But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."

So fucking pretentious.

It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.

And he was right.

You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.

"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."

"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.

"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"

"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."

"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"

You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.

You win.

"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."

Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.

"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."

Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.

"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.

Yet, Rafe merely grins.

"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."

IMPORTANT: if you want to follow my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications!

tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3

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metranart · 4 months ago

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Will you be Toman’s darling? Mikey can’t seem to stop asking, it’s not enough to be able to fuck you whenever he wants, he needs the title that you’re HIS but not only his but also his mates, those guys he loves more than his own life… and unfortunately, you do as well.

You don’t understand why it’s so important to them, but each one has asked the same question over and over again. Draken kisses you, his tongue dancing with yours while his hips don’t miss a single thrust, it’s delicious, it’s delirious and he only dares to break the kiss to ask. “Will you be ours?” —You don’t answer, just bite his lip and begin to thrust your hips to him, as a way to distract him but he’s not dumb and less of all, a quitter, so he won’t give up, none of them will!

Baji’s strong hands anchor you to him, perched on either side of your hips as he rams you from behind, your eyes have been blank for more than fifteen minutes, his name rolls off your tongue like your private mantra and from his tongue rolls: “Say yes,” his ragged breath demands, “Stop torturing us and say yes, shit!” The answer he wants to hear isn’t spoken but that doesn’t discourage him from cumming deep inside you -marking you from the inside out at least gives him so kind of relieve-….

Mitsuya’s attempts are more tender, kisses and cuddles, your naked bodies tangled in each other, the strong fingers of his fist tangled among your sweaty strands of silky hair, each thrust hitting that special place inside you that makes you see stars, his lips only parting to adore you and when you think you’re safe: “We will take care of you, we will go out of our way for you… just say yes, just grant us that favor—be OURS….”. Apparently being filled by each and every one of these gang members isn’t enough, moaning their names and marking their necks with hickey doesn’t satisfy them, they want you for themselves, they want you in their gang as their banner as their princess.

Mikey is the most stubborn, his fat thumb slides under your skirt, snaking behind your panties, two fingers accompanying it to slip inside you, drumming and circling your clit as if it were the joystick of an Xbox control, your flushed cheeks and half-open lids delight him, makes him drunk and dizzy, just being able to put you in that delirious state. He knows it’s his mission in life to have you like this forever, you’re his, you must conquer Tokyo with them, you must stop resisting and agree to their terms. Mikey doesn’t waste any moment to ask, while he kisses you, while he eats you out, while he makes you cum harder than ever.

“Will you be ours? ....yesyesyesyes-?”

Their teamwork is weakening your good judgment, it’s too much, your knees buckle, and your voice is a permanent moan. Damn! Your shivering lips parted and the gazes of the four gang members shine with hope. Anxiety and stress can be detected in their clenched fists, a heavy silence falls over everyone when you say:

“I’m already yours, why do we need to tag it… I’m not going anywhere.”

There is disappointment, frustration, even anger but also amusement in their features. They won’t accept a refusal. They will just have to keep convincing you, again and again and again. You are stubborn, but so are they.

➡️ FULL NSFW ART of this drabble 🥵

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thoughtssvt · 10 months ago

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adventures of sugar daddy nanami kento and his frugal sugar baby [ pt. 2 ]

nanami kento x reader ; fluff & humor ; nsfw joke | [ pt. 1 ]

MDNI — 18+ interactions only

A/N : it's implied that reader is still attending school, whether that be college undergrad or grad is up to you; tldr: reader is over the age of 18

"darling, are you busy right now?" kento's voice dripped from the speaker of your phone like thick honey.

"nope, go ahead," you confirm that you have time to talk as you wipe the sweat off your brow, the summer sun and scalding water making your body temperature rise.

you could practically hear kento's brows furrow, "are you sure? you sound a distance away and I can hear the water running," he said suspiciously.

you cringed, holding your breath as you slowly slid the plate onto the rack only to cringe at the sharp hiss of ceramic skidding against metal.

"I thought you started using the dish washer," kento sighed, the creak of his office chair putting the image of a disappointed kento leaning back in his chair in your head.

"I don't trust it, kento!" you cried dramatically. you would've clutched at your heart if your hands weren't soaking, sparkling glasses weeping on the rack at the mere thought of being thrown in satan's machine.

a staccato sigh and your muffled chuckles filled the kitchen. "anyway," kento continued, "I was wondering if you had the energy for something public." he asked, always considerate of your social battery.

you blotted your hands against the hand towel that hung from the oven door's handle, humming happily as you reached for the nice hand lotion kento had gotten for you, worried about the state of your hands considering the temperature of the water you habitually used. "why? is this some secret exhibition sex club thing that you rich people have?" you teased.

"I want to treat you to an outing since you refuse to do it yourself," kento poked back, speeding passed your joke, already used to your antics.

"oh, not denying it? does it actually exist?" your eyes widened in feigned suspicion, a weak attempt at changing the subject.

"do you know why I started looking for a sugar baby?" kento continued. you sucked in a breath only to be cut off, "nevermind... don't answer that." kento sighed, making you chuckle. "I wanted someone to enjoy spending my money. I lost that kind of excitement a long time ago, so you don't have to hold back. you can ask me for anything that will make you happy, okay?" he explained, sincerity oozing from his voice.

you nodded as you listened, ears perking up towards the end. "anything?" you parroted drawn out and timid.

౨ৎ

kento scrubbed his hands against his scalp, blond locks effectively spiking in every direction. you were both sat next to each other at the dining table, crowding around your laptop-- the one you'd refused to replace, deadset on it lasting you at least another four years despite the volume the fans worked being loud enough to wake kento from his sleep. kento sat defeated, chin digging into his palm as he stared into the abyss while you wore a gleaming smile on your face, excitedly knocking against the table as you waited for your prehistoric machine to load.

once the confirmation screen popped up you wrapped your arm around kento's, pulling him in close. "you were right, kento! spending all this money is fun!" you chimed, wiggling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

kento stared at you with glassy eyes. "I don't know what to do to make you understand," he croaked. "was this really fun for you?" he softened as he took in your features and how much more energized you seemed after just a few clicks.

when he got home from work you'd dragged him to the table, pulling up the tragic student loan debt page, eagerly asking him if it was really okay to spend this much all at once. he'd paid off your loans and the remaining balance of your current semester. you felt like you were floating, to say the least.

kento was more than happy to pay these debts off, but he'd assumed that if you had any they would've been your first priority, not a scrubdaddy and a dish rack. he deflated once again at the mere memory.

you chuckled fondly at the display, reaching to plant a soft kiss on his cheek. "fine, fine. let's go."

his brows knit tightly as you input the address into his phone, sticking it to the dash before securing your seatbelt. you had him park a bit away from a 7-eleven. he followed you hesitantly, watching as you hummed quietly to yourself, a bounce in our step as the two of you took a short walk down to akihabara station. you stopped with your arms spread in a grandiose gesture, the wall behind you stacked floor to ceiling with gashapon machines.

"i've always wanted to try one of these, but the probability that I would get what I wanted on my first try was always slim." you explained as your eyes scanned the wall for a specific capsule series. you held your palm open asking for coins which kento handed to you with a gentle smile.

he watched you for who knows how long. the capsules kept coming, countless duplicates filling his arms. and it was worth it to see your smile, bright and unashamed, every time you popped a capsule open.

"ah, finally!" you cheered as you turned to kento, a small plastic sandwich in the palm of your hand, the same sandwich he got everyday for lunch.

his heart overflowed, spreading heat across his chest. you'd gone through all that work just to get his sandwich. even given the opportunity to do something for yourself you still thought of others, but you were happy and that was enough for him.

"come, come! I think I saw one that had a desk like the one in your office." you beamed, eyes busy searching for the machine with every intention to set these figures up in the corner of your own desk. somewhere along the way kento left you for a moment just to stop by a store for a bag, dumping all your gachas in it until you got exactly what you were looking for. a smile plastered on his face as you continuously loaded coins into the machine.

he rests a hand on your thigh on the drive home, pinching it just enough to grab your attention. "thank you," he whispers, bringing your hand to his face to kiss at your knuckles. thank you for showing him all the small happiness the world had. he had a lot to learn from you.

part 1 | sugar daddy kento masterlist | jjk men x reader masterlist

divider by @tyuniwa

tag list : @that-goth-bisexual @yannauauau

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adispit · 6 months ago

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Mates (Sweet Thing Pt.2)

Hare! Original character x bunny! Male reader

Warnings: hints of possessiveness, your owner getting his poor eyes destroyed, cream pie, a bit of an exhibitionism kink, pwp, dirty talk

Note: if you’re confused about the anatomy, in the eyes of humans they’re animals but to each other they’re like hybrids (human with animal features), just don’t think too much about it lol and enjoy the story

The sun didn’t let you slumber peacefully after the night of merciless fucking. You could hear the faint sounds of water flowing nearby as you awoke blearily, feeling a little disoriented. “Ow!”A sharp stab of pain shot through your lower half, the ache a reminder of the shameless acts you had committed. A rush of shame left your face burning as you recalled what you had said in your haze of pleasure. Looking down, you noticed your lower half was clean, had Mr Hare cleaned you up?

Before you could ponder more about it, a loud grumble from your stomach interrupted your thoughts. “Hungry?” A low, magnetic voice sounded beside your ear. “Oh, Mr Hare! I…” Your throat felt dry, what could you say?! The embarrassment was too much… Mr Hare must have known from the way you avoided his gaze but he chose to ignore it, offering you an apple. Looking sheepish, he continued, “Listen, sorry about yesterday. I wasn’t really myself and I must have scared you a lot… I’ve just been really pent up and you smelled absolutely amazing.” His ears were red. Oh. Cute. Even Mr Hare had an adorable side to him. “I don’t mean to really impose on you bunny but after all that, I mean I have to know your name at least,” He smiled apologetically.

“It’s (name)!” You offered a toothy grin in return. “Thank you so much for cleaning me up and giving me this apple, I’m so sorry for intruding upon your territory as well…but I don’t regret it though! You’re so nice and handsome too..I mean..”You blabbered out a thanks but it seemed you said too much, you didn’t mean to! He was really good-looking!! You really didn’t dare to look at his face now, wishing you would vanish from the face of this earth. “Well, (name), the pleasure is mine as your mate. I am glad you found me satisfactory.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a gentle chuckle.

Mates?! Yours eyes widened as you tried to grasp the revelation, your initial astonishment at what he said melting into sheer happiness. Forgetting about the ache in your lower half, you bounced next to him in a fit of excitement, “Really? You mean it? You mean it?” The questions rushed out as you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning uncontrollably. Looking at your delighted expression, Mr Hare muttered an agreement, his eyes crinkling. “Well, Mister Hare, since we’re mates now, I have to tell my owner!” Your tail puffed out in eagerly as you grabbed his hands and stared at him with stars in your eyes.

It didn’t take much convincing as it seemed Mr Hare was rather smitten with you and didn’t mind for the latter part, if your owner were to reject you both, he would just whisk you away anyways even if you didn’t want to. As you bounded in the direction of your home from the meadow with Mr Hare in tow, it seemed as if the odds were in your favour, you even remembered the way back! As you arrived at the familiar sight of your house, you could see the frantic and panicked look of your owner through the window, a sense of guilt weighed down on your heart for worrying him because of your greed. Glancing at your worried face, Mr Hare offered some words of comfort, “(Name), it’s alright, I’m sure your owner would understand.” He was right! You could do this! Leaping through the window, you landed at your owners’s feet with Mr Hare behind you.

“(Name)!? Wait, I’ll talk to you later, this rascal just came back after a day of disappearing!!” Your owner spoke in a rapid fire manner at the person in the phone before hanging up. Disappointment apparent in his displeased expression, he scooped you up. “(Name)! Where have you been? I’ve been worried to death and you just disappear on me?? Where did your shorts go? And- Wait. Did you bring a girl home.” Before your owner could finish giving you a rough talking to, he noticed Mr Hare on the ground, who was clearly disgruntled by the fact that your owner had just snatched you up. “(Name), god damn it! I didn’t spay you because you were the only bunny I had at home but you bring home some random female hare?!?” Clearly perturbed, your owner bemoaned at you.

It seemed your owner was too exasperated to even listen to you…he had even assumed Mr Hare was a female! Mr Hare shot you a look that expressed his irritation. Desperate to explain yourself, you jumped from your owner’s embrace beside Mr Hare and he immediately mounted you, showing his dominance. “God what if she’s pregnant- (Name), what are you doing?! Oh- l.”Left speechless, your owner immediately understood. “Okay, so you were the one who got pounded?? My bunny got mounted by some random hare??? I give up…this is the price I get for pampering you so much (name)…let’s at least get this guy checked to see if he has an owner…” Your owner was so exasperated with the situation that he finally threw up my hands and gave up, leaving to call the animal shelter.

As your owner conceded defeat, you knew despite his sharp words, he had accepted that Mr Hare was now part of your family. Excitement coursed through you at the thought of having Mr Hare around and it seemed like he shared the same idea as well! Just when you were about to rave about the future you had already imagined with Mr Hare and your owner together as one big family, he interrupted you. “Bunny, I don’t really like how your owner just grabbed you away like that…” He wore a scowl of displeasure, his grip on you tightening as if to ward off any potential threat. Mr Hare being all possessive over you just because your owner touched you should have put you off but it didn’t, instead you felt yourself hardening shamefully, your hole twitching.

He noticed, wearing a smug smirk on his face as if he clearly relishing his victory over the competition. “W-wait, Mr Hare… my owner is still here…” However, your words were the opposite of your actions as you teasingly rubbed your ass against his already rock hard dick. “Bunny…you’re really tempting me…” He grunted as he pulled you close, your thighs flush against his cock. A faint blush crept up your neck and cheeks as a low pitched squeak left you. The blunt head of his dick repeatedly rubbing against your rim of muscle, precum wetting your awaiting hole. Mr Hare cooed at you patronisingly before he thrusted into your heat, the immediate stretch and burn of his impossibly huge cock filling you.

Almost going slack from the penetration, your body trembled from the stimulation as the excitement from your owner catching you both made you shamelessly clench around his cock repeatedly. “You like your owner just behind the door, bunny? Catching me pumping my seed into his precious pet, huh?” Mr Hare snarled as his hands teased your chest, hands rolling your taut nipples. “Please.” You cried out, unsure of what you even wanted as your vision grew hazy. It felt impossibly good. “God. Your hole is so tight, my dick’s gonna break.” He laughed as his hips snapped against yours at a brutal speed. “Unh- ah!” You moaned, tongue now lolling out and eyes rolling back as the pleasure built up and left you reeling in its wake.

The sensation of his cock spearing you open again and again felt so good. The obscene squelch of your hole after every slap of his balls against your skin echoed in the room. It was too much. The tension in your body building up and snapping as you orgasmed. As wave after wave of pleasure crashed into you, your walls pulsed around Mr Hare’s cock rapidly, milking him of what he was worth. Your cock painted your tummy in white as you slurred incoherently, Mr Hare’s grip on you bruisingly tight as his pace stuttered. “Fuck.” Mr Hare moaned. It was not long before hot spurts of cum splashed your insides with his semen. Pulling out his soft cock, a vulgar squelch sounded, followed by his cum dripping out of your swollen hole.

Too exhausted to even feel ashamed about what you did, you lay against Mr Hare as the afterglow left you dazed. Gently cradling in his arms, he kissed your nape in satisfaction. Unfortunately, your sweet moment was interrupted by your owner coming in. “Alright, I’ve confirmed he doesn’t have an owner so we’ll just adopt him and get him vaccinated for some shots… (Name)?! Oh god.”

At least you were both now mates at least…but your owner’s eyes would need some time to recover…

note: I rly need to give this guy a name lol I can’t keep calling him Mr Hare in smut scenes 😭💀 I didn’t beta this so there might be some spelling errors

Reblogs are appreciated! 🙏

#bottom male reader #sub male reader #uke male reader #x male reader #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #mlm #x original character #male reader smut #male reader

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surplekit · 3 months ago

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・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱ Love Languages・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

Included: Isagi, Barou, Nagi, Kunigami, Reo

Synopsis: Different ways the blue lock boys show their love for you ☆｡･:*:

Pairing: male character x gn!reader

a/n: honestly this is all fluff to cleanse my mind of the smut i've been writing. Also I really dislike Isagi’s part but he’s my favoriteeeee 😔 idk why my writing is so poor

Isagi - words of affirmation

Isagi is your biggest hypeman. He constantly praises you, complementing every single one of your features. More than often, you catch him staring at you like he’s analyzing your face. It would be creepy if his intentions weren’t so pure.

“Your eyes are so beautiful Y/N”

Every once in a while, he likes to pack you a lunch. Along with the sandwiches and animal shaped fruits he packs you, there’s always special notes.

“You’re amazing, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

There was one time he was in a rush, and he forgot to write you a little message. Of course, you noticed and were disappointed, as you looked forward to his sentimental messages each time. He acknowledged this, never failing to write you a paragraph.

His favorite phrase consists of three words - I, love, and you. Everyday he makes sure he says it to you at least once, and you can tell that it’s always genuine and from the heart.

Barou - acts of service

Barou doesn’t say “I love you” often, but he definitely shows it. He loves to do everything for you, and will get upset if he sees you doing any task.

“What’re you doing? Sit here, I’ll do it.”

It’s not that he thinks you can’t do it, he knows you’re very capable. But he believes that he should be the one to do everything around the house, so you can relax. “As a good boyfriend should.” he always insists.

He’s a great cook, and loves to make you all different types of foods. What’s more, is that he’s attentive. He takes note of the foods and deserts you like the most, so he can make them more often. And he does the dishes. He hates to see you washing anything, so he does after part as well.

Nagi - quality time

Ever since you guys began dating, you’ve been attached at the hip. Everywhere you are, he is. He loves spending time with you, even if he’s just napping next to you while you’re immersed in your favorite book. He trails behind you, even if you’re just walking to the bathroom or the kitchen.

One time he was was napping, and you wanted to go get some takeout. The second he felt the weight of the mattress shift, he woke up.

“Where’re we going? He spoke in a sleepy voice, set on following you to wherever you we’re planning to go.

You guys don’t even need to be doing anything specific, he simply enjoys being in your presence, it makes him feel safe and comfortable.

Kunigami - physical touch

This boy always has to have his hands on you. Not even sexually, he just always has to be touching you in some way. You always find his arm wrapped around your waist, and his fingers intertwined with yours, especially in public. Kunigami has no shame. He will show that he is yours, holding hands and following behind you like a puppy.

Kunigami likes to snake his hand up your shirt and feel your chest. Again, nothing sexual, he just loves feeling as close to you as possible.

“Ye’r so warm..”

His favorite hobby is cuddling. He will cuddle you whenever, wherever like a giant teddy bear. In bed, on the couch, on the floor I promise it does not matter. As long as he has you lying on his chest, he will cuddle you whenever he can.

Reo - gift giving

Reo’s mindset is that he has money, so he might as well spend it on you. Every week you end up with a new piece of jewelry and a bouquet of flowers. You insist that he doesn’t have to buy you so many gifts all the time, and it makes people think you’re only with him for his money, which you’re not.

“Don’t worry about what others are saying, I know you love me. Besides, I can spend my money on whatever I choose.”

Whenever you two go out, he swipes his card like crazy, buying anything that you seem even the littlest bit interested in. Now you guys are walking out of the mall, him carrying 7 bags of whatever with a satisfied smile on his face.

Reo always treats you out to breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the most expensive places. And he buys you little trinkets from wherever he travels so you always have something to remind you of him.

“You are the best so you deserve the best.”

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svetamillss · 20 days ago

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Headcanons: their language of love💗

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Thanos (Su Bong) x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f)

A/N: Orders are always open for you!

💗💗💗

Cho Hyun Ju

The language of love is words.

She always says nice words about love to you. He calls you cute nicknames, but the most important nickname: "baby". If you are at a distance, she writes you a lot of messages or sends you various funny pictures to cheer you up.

Also, she is always ready to support you, even when you don't need much support, she will still do it.

- Baby, you're the best for me, you'll succeed!

- Hyunnie, I decided to put together a children's puzzle. - you say with a smile.

You will never hear an insult or a bad word from her. She won't allow it. Of course, you also always tell her about love and support her, it is also very important for her.

Kang Sae Byeok

The language of love is time.

She is not a very romantic person and it is difficult for her to express her love in words. But she found a way to fix it. It's important for her to be with you and spend time together. That's why she devotes all her free time to you.

You go for walks, chat a lot or even travel. You also take her younger brother with you, who also loves you very much.

- The weather is terrible outside, I wanted to go for a walk with you so much. - You say sadly when you see that it's raining outside.

- It's not a problem, the three of us can watch a movie or play board games. We'll spend the whole evening together anyway. - she calmly answers, you gladly agree with her offer.

Sae Byeok recently realized that she can't be alone for a long time, she needs you to be next to her for complete peace of mind.

Thanos (Su Bong)

The language of love - gifts.

You couldn't even have imagined that your boyfriend would love to give you gifts. After all, at first he seemed to be a person who would talk all kinds of phrases to you. And then he was able to learn what you love and almost every day brings you flowers, sweets, cute things. Although you began to notice that he does it as well, so that you forget about the bad things he managed to do.

- You took drugs again. - you said with disappointment, when he return home at night, although he was drunk, but at least he did not get lost somewhere.

- Senorita, I didn't come home empty-handed! Here! - and takes out a little Teddy Bear from the back, of course you liked it. He knows your weaknesses.

- Oh, God, thank you, but let's stop with these club parties, otherwise no gift will save you! - you say with a slight anger when you start helping him undress.

Kang Dae Ho

The language of love - help.

Your boyfriend will always be ready to help you, even if you don't really need help.

- Honey, what are you doing? - he asks, entering the kitchen.

- I'm cooking dinner for us.

- Let me help you! After all, you cook meat, and I'm a man, I'll deal with him quickly! - he answers, standing next to you, you can't refuse him, so you agree to his help.

In general, your boyfriend will be ready to carry you in his arms, the main thing is that you feel good and always love each other.

Nam Gyu

The language of love is physical contact.

Oh, what a tactile person he is. You noticed it right away when on the first date he tried to touch you somehow. He even apologized to you, because he thought you might be uncomfortable, but you made it clear that everything was fine and you were just not used to it.

Your boyfriend will always find a way to touch or hug you, anytime, anywhere.

- Nam Gyu, we haven't seen each other for only a few hours, and you hug me like I left you for a week. - you said when you came home after shopping and he came at you with hugs, very tight hugs.

- I'm sorry, I can't help myself, I have a very strong tactile hunger. - he said laughing, but you were satisfied with everything.

💗💗💗

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amiableness · 6 months ago

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Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1486 words

series masterlist ; main masterlist

You promised the girls just one blind date—nothing more, nothing less. At the time, it seemed like a harmless favor. But now, sitting across from your date in a dimly lit restaurant, the air thick with the aroma of their signature dish, the indistinguishable chatter of nearby diners, and the clatter of dinnerware, you’re starting to question that decision.

Connor shrugs, slicing into his steak with casual ease. “I didn’t do too much today. Babysat my nephew since my brother begged me,” he says, his tone indifferent. “But honestly, I hate babysitting his kid.”

“You don’t like kids?” You ask, doing your best to keep your voice neutral. You gingerly push your fork through another piece of pasta, trying to maintain an air of indifference.

He looks up at you, his dark curls nearly black and bouncing with the movement. “Hate ’em,” he says without hesitation.

You can’t help but notice how much he resembles an off-brand version of James, and it frustrates you. His familiar features keep pulling your thoughts back to your best friend instead of your date. At least, that’s the excuse you’ve been clinging to for the past hour.

“Oh.” You say softly, placing the food on your tongue and chewing slowly as you stare down at your plate.

“Do you have a kid or something?” You look up, a pause in your chewing as you find Conner holding his glass and watching you closely like he’s hoping you’ll say no.

Your first instinct is to say yes, and you nearly cringe when you realize your mistake.

You finish chewing and swallow hard. “Uh, no,” you say, shaking your head as you reach for your wine to wash down your feelings. “But my best friend does. Single parent.” You’re not sure why you felt the need to add that last part.

Connor leans back in his chair, nodding slowly. “Well, good for her,” he says. He isn’t sure why you’re telling him this, and frankly, he doesn’t care.

You sit up straighter. “Him,” you correct. Connor raises an eyebrow and not much later, he calls for the check.

James is surprised when he sees your call. He knows you’re supposed to be on a date—Lily mentioned it—and he’s been stress-cleaning his house ever since. Halfway through he gave up and turned a movie on instead.

“Darling?” He answers, “Is everything alright?”

“It could be better,” you say with a laugh that falls short of genuine humor. “I’m not too far from your place. Could I come over? I’m just at the Windmere.”

“Yeah. Let me—” There’s shuffling on the line as James grabs his jacket. “—I’ll meet you.”

You huff, “No. You’ve got Henry asleep upstairs.”

“It’s five minutes.” James protests, heading to the kitchen to grab the baby monitor off the counter.

“Exactly, Jamie. I’ll be there soon. I love you.” You hang up before he can respond, leaving him thoroughly disappointed. He appreciates every chance to tell you he loves you, even if it’s just as friends.

It takes you less than five minutes to get to his house, and James flings open the door before you can even knock, making you giggle.

“You worry so much about me, Potter.” You say with a teasing smile as you push past him and kick off your heels, the click of the shoes hitting the floor echoing in the entryway.

James stands by the door, his gaze following you with a mixture of concern and affection. “Of course I do. How could I not?” He replies, his voice earnest and warm.

You shrug off your jacket, and James’s gaze quickly settles on your tight black dress. The silky fabric clings to your figure and moves fluidly as you shift. James feels like he’s going to pass out from the sight—you look incredible, and he’s painfully aware that you’ve dressed up for another man.

He swallows hard, attempting to keep his voice steady. “So, how was the date?” He finally asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you might say next.

You feel a warmth rise to your cheeks, the slight embarrassment making you smile softly. “What gave it away—the dress or the girls?” you ask, your fingers lightly brushing the fabric of your dress as if to acknowledge it.

“The girls,” he admits, a small chuckle escaping him as he glances over at the baby monitor to check on his son. “But the dress would’ve been a dead giveaway if they hadn’t.”

You laugh, the sound light and teasing as you catch his gaze. “They’re awful at keeping secrets, aren’t they?”

“Was your date supposed to be a secret from me?” He asks, making his way to the couch with a curious look. The cushions sink slightly as he sits down, and you follow suit, settling in beside him.

“No, it wasn’t,” you say, surprised, turning to face James with wide, sincere eyes. “But I wasn’t exactly excited about it, either.”

He leans back, eyebrows furrowed, “Why not?”

You take a deep breath, your fingers nervously tracing the hem of your skirt. “I don’t know,” you admit, voice softening as you look away. “I’ve never been on a blind date before, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up. And I guess... I’m glad I didn’t, in the end.”

James watches you closely, his eyes filled with curiosity. He’s trying not to appear too eager to learn about this date of yours. “Why’s that? Didn’t go well?”

Tears well up in your eyes, and you quickly blink them away, hoping James doesn’t notice. But he does. “I just... I don’t know how to find someone,” you admit, your voice shaking slightly. “And it’s so discouraging that my friends set me up with a guy who’s completely wrong for me—well, except for his looks.”

James opens his mouth to ask what the guy looked like but holds back, sensing that this isn’t the moment.

“What does that say about my dating life?” You continue, a tear slipping down your cheek. “If my best friends don’t even know what I like in a guy?” You sniffle, your fingers brushing absentmindedly over your lips as you stare down at Henry’s toys scattered across the floor.. “I think I need to put myself out there more. Go on as many dates as possible. I need to meet someone.”

James feels like he’s going to be sick. He’s floundering for a way to tell you that, no, you absolutely shouldn’t. But how can he say that?

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Is there a rush? To find someone, I mean.”

You shrug, your gaze still fixed on the floor. “I know we’re both young, but I feel like if I don’t find someone now, it’ll only get harder down the line.”

“Oh.” He responds softly, the weight of your words hanging in the air.

A heavy silence settles between you, both lost in your thoughts, until you break it with a shaky voice. “Is there something wrong with me?”

James snaps his head up, startled. “What? No! Why would you even think that?” He asks, incredulous, his tone laced with concern.

“I’ve been asked out three times in my life,” you say quietly, your voice trembling. “And two of those were back in school. Is there something wrong with me?” Finally, you turn to look at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears clinging to your lashes.

“Darling, no,” James insists, his voice filled with genuine concern as he scoots closer to you on the couch. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “You’re perfect.”

You sniffle, managing a small, sad smile. “Don’t lie to me, Jamie,” you say, trying to keep it light, but he can hear the trace of hurt beneath your words.

“I would never,” he murmurs, placing a tender kiss on your head as you settle back into his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothes you. “You’re everything anyone could ever want—an absolute dream girl.”

“Stop it.” You whisper half-heartedly, though a part of you wants to believe him.

“I’m serious,” he insists, his voice firm yet gentle. “Whoever you end up with will be incredibly lucky.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, the room filled only with the soft sounds of your breathing.

“I’ll help you look for dates, if you want.” He offers suddenly, the words slipping out before he can stop them. Regret washes over him immediately; he wishes he could take them back. The mere thought of you on a date with another guy twists his stomach into knots, but actually helping you choose someone else? Brutal.

You tilt your head to press a kiss gently to his jaw. Your voice is a soft whisper, filled with gratitude, “Thank you, Jamie.”

He doesn’t know how much longer he can do this.

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baby--vera · 1 month ago

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Blue Lock Boys as Dads

rin, sae, isagi, reo, kunigami, yukimiya

☆ミ

navigation • masterlist • bllk masterlist

itoshi rin

defo a girl and boy dad. older girl, younger boy vibes. when your pregnant he's definitely the type to get really fussy and not let you do anything incase you hurt yourself or the baby (he won't let you get a glass of water yourself). when your water broke he panicked and accidentally brought you to the wrong hospital...and you had to, as calmly as you could, tell him. and ge FREAKED out. when your baby was born it was all well, he took most night shifts to let you rest as much as you could, even though he's a professional athlete and should probably not be staying up, he would break the rules for you (and the baby too). fortunately, your second pregnancy experience was less chaotic as the first, rin still did the regular night shifts though <3

itoshi sae

only child dad vibes here. if its a girl, he would spoil her SOO much you'd have to scold him for it. but he still continues to treat your daughter like a princess behind your knowledge. on the other hand, if its a boy, he DEFINITELY bought the kid a football...he wouldn't force them to play but he would like his kid to at least try it. whether boy or girl, if they end up playing sports he would be at every match possible to support his child, even coaching them himself. your kid would be the star player of any sports team lol. but if your kid doesn't do sports, sae would also be very supportive of their hobbies, going as far as to buying the best equipment possible for it. however sae would be quite a strict dad from time to time, such as curfews and screen time. but in the end, he just wants what's best for his baby and to keep them safe <3

isagi yoichi

3 kids. he want 3 kids. obviously if you don't want that many he would respect your wishes but its just what his ideal family looked like in his imagination. he would be SOO helpful during and after your pregnancy. would give you massages, cook for you, carry you, anything you can name this guy has done for you. when it comes to taking care of the kids he definitely is big help too. he would carry them all the time and play with them all the time too. but when he's away for matches, you always facetime him before to say good luck and show him the kids in his jersey (he tears up it's too cute) but if isagi's match is nearby, you would bring your kids with you, of course wearing his jersey again, and cheer him on. he also will full on leg it to you all after a match to give you all big kisses (sometimes you might feature in his interviews too) <3

reo mikage

2 kids. either both girls or both boys. idk why i just thought of this when i thought of reo. when you tell reo you're pregnant he is over the moon, and he vows that he will not treat his kids like how his parents treated him, meaning he will let his kids have their own dreams insteaf of having to take over the mikage company. however, he will still spoil his children SO MUCH. you literally are face palming everytime he does. when your nearly about to give birth, he takes time off football (despite the disappointment from nagi lol) to take care of you and after you give birth. but when your children are a bit older he literally begs you to bring them to his matches and even gets you vip seats so they can see how cool their daddy is. if his matches are abroad, he will also pay for your plane tickets (in 1st class ofc) to come see him abroad and so he can see you and the kids. he will boast about it after the match <3

kunigami rensuke

kinda basing this off his own family but 2 girls and 1 boy. he's of course a REALLY good girl dad because he has younger sisters. he knows everything his 2 baby girls need and how they think (fr mind reader). as for his baby boy, he taught him football, of course. when we plays with his son he does play a little rough but not enough to hurt his kid. he would never forgive himself if he hurt his own kids, son or daughter. he love them all equally. (he's just a big teddy bear, even after wildcard he wouldn't treat his family any different) <3

yukimiya kenyu

2 kids. older boy and younger girl. yukimiya is the definition of GENTLEMAN. he is literally perfect. he researched everything when you told him you were first pregnant, so that he was prepared. everything went perfectly smoothly and soon, you two had your second baby. yukimiya also would take time off football to take care of you and the kids until they're manageable for you when he's away for matches. his son is a massive fan of his own father (who wouldn't be) and your baby girl is just there for the vibes lol. they have exact replicas of yukimiya's sports glasses and signed jerseys. but when the kids grow out of their baby jerseys, yukimiya gets a bit emotional, he cant bring himself to throw them away. so the frames the little baby jerseys in the living room if your house <3

here's a little thought/drabble for yall bc my maths series is taking a while...(im so sorry it will take a bit😔)

hope you like this and a smau should be out in a bit too ( 〃▽〃)

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hotchfiles · 9 months ago

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— help me hold onto you • aaron hotchner

fem!reader, unprotected vaginal sex, a bit of angst.

He knew he would be in trouble whenever he turned those keys. What he wasn’t expecting was how big the trouble would be. He had no idea he would open the door to three bags full of clothes and other things he left at your place as the months passed, waiting for him.

“Darling? What–What are these?” He asks even though he knows the answer, hoping you want to at least talk about it before making any harsh decisions. You’ve been in a relationship for almost a year now and it works. It always worked.

Normally you wouldn’t drink before an argument, still when he gets to the kitchen he sees you calmly sipping on a tall glass of wine, fingers tapping on the table, hair up, face clean but red, you were in your pajamas already, nothing like you probably looked hours before.

“What’s the only thing I asked of you, Aaron?” You don’t move, don’t glance up at him, eyes focused solely on how the purplish red liquid moved in your glass, taking a big sip right after.

Aaron sighs in frustration, he didn’t want this to become a fight. He was so tired. “I know, I’m sorry–”

“Answer the question, please.”

“Don’t make promises I can’t keep.” He takes his tie off quickly, suddenly feeling suffocated by the fabric surrounding his neck. That’s why your relationship worked, you knew he was busy and his schedule was unpredictable, so very early on you accepted it as it was, saying you wouldn’t be mad at him as long as he didn’t break any promises. If you’re not sure, don’t promise me you will be able to make it.

First months he wouldn’t promise you anything, too afraid to break it, to disappoint you.

He watches as you take the wine in a mouthful and refills the glass, the bottle now empty and starts getting frustrated, you’re a loud drunk and you’re surely already getting tipsy.

This was the first time he slipped up, it didn’t need to be such a big deal, it didn’t avail to having his things right at the door as if he was getting kicked out. All the other times he promised he could take time off, he did it. Just–Teens were getting kidnapped, the team needed him.

“We saved two girls today.” Low blow. But it was true, he wasn’t back in time because of that, he got on the jet instead of staying back to do that. To save two thirteen year old girls. Not some futile reason. It had to count for something.

“I’m proud of you for that, Aaron. Are you proud of me? For the promotion we were supposed to celebrate with my boss? Or are our accomplishments only worth it when it’s about saving someone?” You raise your voice only slightly, the alcohol from the sweet wine getting to you slowly and then all at once.

You always tried your best to keep your voice down when arguing with him, simply because he never raised his, and it could be an endearing feature if it didn’t look like he did it to look like the rational one, the right one.

“That’s not what i said–”

“I know what you said. You want to make the fact you let me down okay because you did a wonderful thing someplace else. That’s not how it works.” You open the second bottle of wine of the night, feeling his eyes on your back. “I want you to leave.”

“You know this is ridiculous, you’re acting like a child.” Sore spot. You were a few years younger and that had never been a problem. But he couldn’t go back now, he could see the anger darkening your eyes, your knuckles turning white by the strength you’re using to grip on the edge of the table.

“How am I a child?” You begin slowly and keeping your voice down, you get up finally from the chair you had been sitting, facing him directly, his instincts make him try to touch your arms, but you dodge it quickly. “We had an agreement. You broke it. Am I a child for not giving you permission to hurt me again?”

He knows you’re about to snap, your chest coming up and down in rapid breaths, and he doesn’t feel particularly in the right, he knows he screwed up and he’s sorry, but your reaction is out of proportion to him, an exaggeration made to make him feel more guilty than he already does. “I said you’re acting like a child. The one time things don’t go your way and you’re packing me out?” Aaron almost feels the sharpness of a slap but he’s quick enough to grab your wrist. “See? proving my point.”

“How many times do I have to accept you screwing up so I can be seen as mature?” You yank your arm out of his grip and go back to your drink, “Same times as Haley? How many times did she forgive you so you could go around and do it all again?”

Lower blow.

Hotch feels it right in his core and he’s angry at you for bringing up but more so angry at himself because you were right. Still, it is anger nonetheless that guides his next actions, quickly and firmly walking up to you, caging you against the table in sudden movements.

Your breath hitches from the surprise, and your attempt to move is stopped by his roughed hands on your chin, firm but never close to hurting. “I’m not leaving.” You wince, not in fear of him, but of how easy he can make your mind go blank when he’s that close.

His eyes go from your eyes to your lips, he notices your failed attempt to conceal the way you licked your lips, he glances at your chest, heavy breathing under your thin pajama shirt, nipples hardening against the fabric.

Damn you for choosing wine.

Hotch reads your mind almost, but his smirk doesn’t last too long displayed on his lips, your hands pulling him by the neck, a low groan followed by a “Fuck this” leaving your wine tasting lips just mere seconds before gluing to his.

Eager to get your forgiveness, he is quick to follow your lead, both hands sneaking under your clothes, one down the waistband of your shorts, grabbing hard on the flesh of your ass, the other drawing soft circles on your nipple.

You melt into the kiss, his lips, his hands, his scent, him. And you have no time to feel bad about it, pulled up to sit on the table, legs around his waist, you can feel how hard he is against your wetness.

A pained whimper leaves his lips when you use the new position to grind onto him, needing something, anything against your clit at this point.

Aaron sinks his teeth into your bottom lip to get your full attention, earning a loud moan in response, his hands travel your thighs and you pull his shirt out his pants so you can feel his skin under your fingertips, not bothering to unbutton them and working with what you got under it.

His lips travel your neck and your collarbone, “I love you, so, so much”. His declaration comes in between kisses and the sucking of your skin, “Please don’t make me leave after this.” It comes in a whisper now, but he doesn’t stop, pushing your shorts down and sliding it down till it drops to the floor with your help.

“Just shut up and take your pants off.”

“You know I can only do one of those.” It makes you laugh and you sink your nails to the bit of fat on his side, the tiniest bit of annoyance at how easy he had you in the palm of his hand and how he didn’t even seem to know it truly.

On the edge of the table sliding his hard cock into your folds was an easy feat, pants, shoes and his boxers long gone, his socks stayed on almost making him lose balance as he feels just how wet you are. He drops his head, forehead on your shoulder

“Fuck—Oh my god, you are so wet, you’re always so wet for me.” It isn’t arrogant, it’s appreciative almost, you move his head so you can look at him, hot, sweaty already, cheeks so red as his eyes were glassy, the mix of lust and love and regret clear in his dark caramel irises.

You kiss him once more, sweet, forgiving and he takes this as his sign to continue, pushing you down the table, Hotch holds your thighs for support, plunging his cock into your wet cunt with ease, bottoming out at the first thrust. You enjoyed the stretching pain and you never had the patience to wait.

Lower lips between your teeth, you slide one of your hands to your clit, two fingers working your arousal, quickly replaced by Aaron’s calloused fingers. You arch your back and moan loudly, “Fuck, yes, and move.”

It feels like an order and for Hotch it is one, he is delighted to oblige, maintaining the same finger moves on your clit and beginning to fuck your pussy, strong, firm and precise at first.

“Honey, fuck—Please…” His begging is meant to warn you that if you keep clenching around him he won’t be able to control himself, you almost don’t listen, fingers working on your own nipples enjoying the high he is always able to get you in.

“Aaron—I’m… Fuck, don’t stop, you’re so good.”

The praising, the guidance, the reassurance, it makes the moans leaving his lips seem like whining, he enjoys it too much.

“Yeah? Like this?” The way your hands try to grab him is enough answer to him, along with how tight your pussy is throbbing against him, you’re almost there, he can feel it.

His movements on your clit get sloppier, the sight and sound of your wetness against his digits making him go insane. Your back arches once more and your whole body begin to squirm, the tight coil in your lower belly finally ripping, “Yes, fuck—“ You’re breathless, weak, but you still have it in you to edge him in, “Aaron, baby, cum for me, please.”

He would be crazy to do anything but, so quickly you ask him and his hands are hoisting both your legs over his shoulders, getting a new, deeper position, it doesn’t take long for you to feel him filling you up, “I can’t live without you, you’re so, so good for me” His lasts broken words before letting himself go.

You don’t move and neither does he, his dick softening inside you, his hands caging you in the table and his head dropped to his chest, both just trying to recover.

“Aaron?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You can stay.” He looks at you with nothing but love and happiness and gratitude, “But if you screw up again do not try fucking me into forgiving you, I’ll chop your dick off.”

“You like it too much to do that.” His grin is sincere, feeling finally free to joke around you, he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. “See?”

“Bite me.”

“Gladly.”

#lari writes sometimes #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut

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0cta9on · 10 months ago

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Train Ride to Heaven

length: +3k words

Genre: Smut

NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader

(Author's Note: The winner of the first smut poll! I wrote this entire thing in 1.5 sittings, so it's very rough and unedited. Nevertheless, hope you horny sickos enjoy it <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

A weary sigh leaves your lips as you rest the back of your head against the trembling glass of the subway. Eight years of college, even more years of brown-nosing just for a sliver of a chance at a promotion, hours of sleep lost from nights working overtime, and where did it land you? A thankless office job that considers you more of a number than a living, breathing human being. After all that, you get to go home to a loveless marriage with a woman you know for a fact is cheating on you with her personal trainer, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. Hooray for you.

You feel the subway slowly creep to a stop. A few more of those and you’ll finally be able to sleep and pretend like you're dead for a couple hours before doing it all over again. A lone girl, at least 18, walks into the car and takes a seat directly across from you - an odd move considering the entire car is completely empty aside from you. You try to ignore her, opting to get some shut-eye before you get to your stop, but you can’t deny the shift in the atmosphere from her presence. She’s a pretty young girl, all alone at this time of night. You could do anything to her and no one would even know. You shake your head at the thought. No good can come from a perverted old man like yourself.

“Psst…”

Although, there’s no fault in thinking like that if it stays in your mind. A cute girl like her could easily be taken advantage of. In fact, she’s lucky that you’re here instead of an actual sicko that would try to put their hands all over her.

“Psst… Ahjussi…”

This shitty marriage has got you all pent up. Not like you would have any energy left in you, especially after a day like this. Lucky you. Maybe if you pray hard enough, whatever god is up there will pity you and summon a woman that’ll throw themselves at you. If only life were that easy.

“Ahjussi!”

Your eyes shoot open from the sudden noise. The girl sitting across from you giggles to herself as she smiles at you. It isn’t immediately obvious due to her innocent features, but you can tell that she’s hiding something behind that smile. Something sinister, even. How exciting.

“What?” You ask. Her sly smile only grows as she subtly raises her skirt. Little by little, she reveals the supple flesh of her thighs, firm and plump. You know in the back of your mind that this is wrong, that she shouldn’t be exposing herself to an old man like this, but the second you see that little bit of white cotton in between her legs, all common sense flies out the window. Suddenly, she lowers her skirt, much to your disappointment. Your emotions must have been obvious as she cackles sweetly, pointing at your face. Embarrassed, you lean back and shut your eyes, hoping she’ll leave you alone for the duration of the ride.

“Ahjussi~” she teases in a sing-songy voice. “Open your eyes~” Like a fool, you follow her orders without a second thought. This time, however, the reward is greater than you could have ever imagined. Her white cotton panties are there in full view for no one else but yourself, drawing you in like a siren. The girl bites her lip as she traces circles around her crotch, more for you rather than herself. Your cock begins to strain in your pants, begging to be set free.

“Come here,” she says, beckoning you with a single finger. You quickly do as she says and sit next to her. Up close, you can see just how deceivingly innocent she is with her big, round eyes and her thick, pouty lips. Anyone would walk by her and assume she’s a classy and upstanding student, not a little slut teasing random old men in a subway (Not that you mind).

“My name is Hanni, what’s your name?” She asks, gripping the sleeve of your blazer while she plays with herself under her skirt.

“I-I, u-um, m-my name is-”

She brings a finger to your lips, silencing you. “Actually, I don’t really care, I’m just gonna call you daddy,” Hanni giggles. You force yourself to take a deep breath in an attempt to remain composed, but inside, you’re cheering like an addicted gambler finally hitting that sweet, sweet jackpot.

“So Daddy, what are you doing riding the train home this late at night?” The lilt she puts on that word is enough to drive you insane, but you try to hold back, not wanting to scare her off if you appear too eager.

“Uh, y’know, just getting home after a long day of work. Boring office job and all that. Nothing you would find any interest in,’ you sigh. Hanni pouts, looking at you with a sympathetic expression.

“Awww poor daddy, you must be so stressed.” She holds onto your arm, pushing her perky breasts into you. Your wife has never given you so much as a glance in your direction whenever you showed up exhausted from work. She’s probably too busy texting her personal trainer. Hell, she’s probably fucking him right at this very moment. It’s only fair if you get to have some fun for yourself, right?

“Yeah, I suppose I am pretty stressed. On top of that, my wife has been cheating on me with this personal trainer guy she met a couple months ago.” As soon as you mention your wife’s adultery, a hint of a smirk appears on Hanni’s lips.

“Oh no~,” she says, feigning pity. “Maybe I can help you… feel better?” She puts your hand on your chest and inches it downwards, all while maintaining eye contact with you. Her face is close enough for you to feel her breath on your chin, but just far enough for her to escape if you try to kiss her. All you can do is wait as you feel her hand getting closer and closer closer to your raging erection. Everything fades away but the pumping of your heart and the gentle brown of her eyes. Finally, a guttural groan escapes your mouth as she grasps onto your cock, stroking it through your pants.

Hanni giggles at your expression. “Does that feel good, Daddy? Do you like it when I play with Daddy’s cock?” All you can do is nod as she continues to toy with you, rubbing and squeezing along your shaft. It’s been so long since another person has touched your penis that you almost finish right then and there, but you continue to hold it in with steely determination.

“Daddy’s cock is so big and thick, I don’t know if it’ll fit in my tiny, little mouth.” Hanni leans into your ear, tickling your skin with her breath as she whispers, “Maybe we should find out.”

“Y-yes, god yes,” you practically beg.

“Then tell me what to do,” she says. “I’m your little whore for the night. Treat me like one.” Those filthy words coming out of her pretty mouth is a memory that you will never forget until the day you die.

“Fucking suck my cock, you slut,” you command her, a little too enthusiastically. Even in the prime of your relationship, your wife would never let you talk to her like this. To have your commands followed by this cute girl is heart-poundingly exhilarating. You feel like a whole new man.

Hanni fiddles with your belt buckle at a snail’s pace. You try to do it yourself to get the ball rolling, but she swats your hand away.

“Let me do it by myself, Daddy~” she pouts. With a nod, you lean back and let her have her way, succumbing to the desires of her cuteness. If she wanted to, she could easily take over the world with her looks alone.

After unbuckling your belt and unzipping your pants, all that’s left is the fabric of your underwear separating your dick from her glossy lips. Hanni places a few gentle kisses on your bulge, drawing a moan from your belly. Giggling, her fingers hook around the waistband and pull it down at a tantalizingly slow pace, leaving you to wait as your heart threatens to burst from your chest. Finally, your member swings up, almost hitting Hanni in the face. Her jaw drops as she gazes at your length, a look of surprise and a little bit of fear in her eyes.

“Oh shit…” she whispers to herself before shaking her head and putting back the sultry appearance she had before. “I can’t wait to choke on your big, fat cock, Daddy,” she smirks as she begins to stroke your shaft. Hanni’s hands are much softer than your wife’s, and even more skilled as she cups your balls, applying just enough pressure so that it doesn’t hurt. You watch with bated breath as she leans forward, eyeing the tip of your cock for a moment before it disappears into her open mouth. The sound of your moan echoes throughout the subway car as Hanni sucks on your tip, slowly taking in more of your length with each bob of her head. Even your wife’s cocksucking skills pale in comparison to hers, you almost feel bad for the guy that she’s fucking.

“Yes, good girl, Hanni. Suck that dick, you fucking slut,” you encourage. You notice her ass sticking up in the air, and thanks to the rumbling of the train and her bobbing motions, her skirt rides up just enough for you to peek at the white panties covering her ass, giving you the bright idea to reel back and give her a good, hard spank. She moans into your cock, heightening the sensation.

“I bet you like that, you little whore.” You yank her up by the hair, forcing her to look at you, saliva covering her mouth and chin. All the inhibitions and common sense you had before are completely gone, leaving nothing behind but animalistic desire. “Say it. Say that your daddy’s little fucktoy.”

“I’m daddy’s little fucktoy,” she repeats, giggling at you. Satisfied, you release her hair and sit back, watching as she alternates between deepthroating your shaft and sucking on your balls while she strokes your entire length with her spit. You would happily quit your job and live at the subway instead if it meant you get to have this petite sex doll all to yourself every night.

Suddenly, the train comes to a stop at one of the stations and a man stumbles inside. The two of you scramble to cover up, hiding any semblance that the two of you were doing anything indecent. Much to your dismay, the man sits nearby, making it difficult for even small gestures to go unnoticed. He’s clearly not a student nor is he an office worker, so why the hell would he be riding the subway this late at night!?

“Wait,” Hanni whispers, pointing at the man. “Look.”

Confused, you watch as his body begins to sway with the movements of the train. Upon closer inspection, you notice that his eyes are struggling to stay open and his clothes are disheveled. Clearly, he’s either drunk, faded, or both. Finally, BAM - he knocks out on the seat, completely unconscious.

Hanni stifles as she gives you a knowing look. “He’ll be out for a little while so…” She bends over the seat, shaking her butt at you. “Fuck my little pussy with that cock, Daddy~,” she teases, winking back at you.

Pounding with excitement, you release your cock and stroke it back to life, while your other hand pulls down her white cotton panties, finally revealing her pinky honeypot to you. With Hanni’s saliva as lube, you line up your tip with her cunt, teasing her moist folds.

“Are you ready, baby?” you ask

“I’m so fucking rea- MMPH!” She struggles to stifle a moan as you completely bottom out inside of her, all in one thrust. So slick and so tight, you don't even care about comparing her to your wife anymore. All you want to do is ruin her little pussy and use it as your personal cocksleeve. You sink your fingers into her hips, pulling her into you with each thrust and watching her cute ass jiggle against you.

Fuck that stupid company. Fuck your stupid bitch of a wife. Your entire life you were told what to do, how to act, and what you should look like in order to succeed in life. You followed everyone’s orders to a T, even going above and beyond to obtain that success that was oh so coveted. But look where you are now - eight inches deep into some girl you just met tonight. Fuck the “high-paying job” and fuck the “hot wife”. If this isn’t success, then you don’t know what is.

“O-oh my g-god… Y-you’re so f-fucking h-huge…” Hanni squeaks in between thrusts, desperately trying to control her volume. You’re unsure how much longer you can manage, but it doesn’t matter. Whether she likes it or not, this slut is gonna leave with a gallon of your cum deep inside of her.

Hanni’s body begins to shake violently. “I-I… I’m cumming!” She shrieks wildly. You pull out of her, watching in astonishment as she squirts all over the seats. And your wife said you could never dream of satisfying a woman - if only she could see this now.

“H-holy shit…” she says, leaning her head on your shoulder as she gasps for air. “That was… fucking insane.” Both of you laugh as you wait for her to get down from her high. Miraculously, the man didn’t notice her ear-splitting orgasm, still completely out cold.

Suddenly, Hanni straddles your lap, wrapping her arms around your head. “I noticed that you didn’t cum yet, Daddy.” She gyrates your hips, rubbing her wet slit against your tip. You figure she would still be sensitive after the first round, but it’s clear she was built purely to fuck. “Maybe we should change that,” she says, biting her lips.

“Maybe we should,” you smirk. Hanni kisses you as she drops her hips onto your cock, causing her to moan into your mouth. Not wanting to give up dominance completely, you shove your tongue down her throat, filling two of her holes at once. The wet slapping of her bouncing on your cock echoes throughout the car, and at this point, you don’t care if that man wakes up or not. He could be completely conscious and recording you right now, but you still wouldn’t stop plowing this little minx. In fact, you secretly hope that he is recording right now - the whole world should know that this fucktoy named Hanni is yours and yours alone.

You rip open her top, exposing her perky tits. They are on the smaller side, but they’re big enough to jiggle with each bounce and that’s good enough for you. Hanni grabs your head as you latch onto her tits, licking and sucking every inch of her chest. The pressure begins to build in your loins and you know the end is coming soon. Wanting to milk every drop of this experience, you stand up, supporting Hanni by the ass, and begin ramming into her with every ounce of energy you have left. Rather than a 40-something-year-old man, you feel like you’re reborn again into your 20-year-old body. You feel the familiar tightening of Hanni’spussy around your member, and with one final thrust, your body is elevated to Heaven. Shooting rope after rope into her deep cunt, the high is nothing like you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime. Not even your wife- Ah, who cares about her. She’s nothing but dirt under your foot, while Hanni is an angel sent from above.

You gently place her down on the seat before collapsing next to her, shutting your eyes so you can replay this entire experience in your head. Never in your life did you think you would ever get this lucky. The train comes to a halt, and a hand pats your shoulder.

“Sorry Daddy, but this is my stop,” she giggles as she skips towards the open doors. Despite the rough pounding you just gave her, she somehow managed to look presentable in the short time that your eyes were closed. “I’ll see you around, Daddy~”

The last thing you see is her wink before hopping off the train and disappearing into the night. You’re disappointed that you didn’t ask for her contact information before she left, but you’re confident that you’ll cross paths with her again in the future. Surely, whatever god that heard your prayers isn’t that cruel, right?

As you approach your stop, you quickly get yourself sorted, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention from passersby. If your wife asks about any mysterious “stains” on you, you could easily attribute it to being clumsy while drinking. Not that she would care enough to ask anyway.

Upon exiting the car, a police officer stops you as you approach the stairs.

“Excuse me, sir,” he says. You try to ignore him, hoping that there’s someone behind you that he’s referring to, but unfortunately, nobody else is around. “Sir, I need to talk to you for just a moment.”

“What’s the problem, officer?” You ask, hiding your panic behind a nervous smile. A whirlwind of questions swarm your mind. Is this about Hanni? Did you get caught? Was it that drunk guy that sold you out? Beads of sweat begin to form on your head as the police officer questions you.

“There has been an increase in robberies in the subway recently and I just want to ask if you saw any suspicious individuals lurking around the subway.”

You breathe a sigh of relief, grateful that the heat isn’t on you. “Well, no officer, I haven’t seen any suspicious individuals around,” you reply.

“Are you sure?” He asks. “All the victims have described the suspect as being a short Asian girl, about 18 years of age, with big brown eyes and black hair. Does that ring any bells for you?

An alarm blares throughout your head. Surely he’s lying, right? Maybe he’s talking about a different Asian girl. There are probably thousands, no, MILLIONS of people that fit that criteria. Besides, you and Hanni shared a special connection tonight. She’s the answer to everything that ever went wrong in your life, an angel sent from Heaven to cure you of your miseries. Hanni wouldn’t lie to you, right?

You dig through your pockets, frantically scrambling for your wallet and your phone. You feel something in your pocket and pull it out, only to be filled with dread at the sight of it - white cotton panties.

#newjeans #pham hanni #newjeans hanni #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #hanni x male oc #newjeans hanni x male oc #hanni x male reader #newjeans hanni x male reader #smut #hanni smut #newjeans hanni smut

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alchemistc · 5 months ago

Text

Evan's scraping a spoon across the plate of tiramisu they'd demolished when Tommy feels it bubbling up. He's talking about sperm whales, of all things, somehow navigating there from their earlier conversation about the Shelby his neighbor has been trying to entice Tommy into putting up on the lift even though Tommy has told him time and again that his entire life savings does not cover even a scratch in the paint on that thing, and Tommy wants to thumb at the cocoa powder stuck to the corner of Evan's lip, wants to drag him out into the street and dance under the moonlight, wants -

"And they have asymmetrical skulls, Tommy," Evan says, with his free hand still trapped beneath Tommy's and his smile stretching wide.

Half a year ago they'd sat at the table three yards to Tommy's left and Tommy had gone from nervous and smitten to reminding himself not to be too disappointed while he ordered himself an Uber in the span of an hour. It feels like a lifetime ago.

"I'm gonna say yes," Tommy says, which hadn't really been on his mind to say until this moment.

Evan stills. His hand twitches under Tommy's. His brow furrows and his lip curls out with the beginnings of a pout. "You found it, didn't you?"

"If you're gonna hide a ring box, sweetheart, do it somewhere we don't both keep our socks."

They've been playing fast and loose with the whole idea of pacing themselves since Tommy sat down at that patio table and took a sip of terrible coffee while the sun lit Evan up like he was the only thing worth seeing in the entire world. Finding the ring tucked behind his least favorite pair of wool socks hadn't even been a surprise, really.

"I can walk it back if you've got a speech," Tommy says, and Evan ducks his head and looks up at Tommy through his lashes. "God knows you might say something that changes my mind."

Evan laughs. It's a laugh Tommy fully intends to have as his soundtrack for the rest of his life. "Maybe no speech then."

"Still tweaking it, huh?"

"Maybe you just don't deserve to hear it, yet. That's what you get for hijacking the proposal, Thomas."

Tommy flips his wrist, rolls his fingers into the palm of Evan's hand, slides a thumb over his knuckles and grins. "Call me that again and I'm taking back my original statement, Buck."

Evan's nose scrunches adorably. "You made your point." (An argument, three months in, Evan pouting adorably because they'd run into an ex of Tommy's at a harvest festival and Tommy had introduced him as 'my partner, Buck'. Evan had spent the rest of the day caught up in naming conventions and the meaning of it all until Tommy's patience had worn thin enough to snark back. They'd discovered how great they were at makeup sex at three in the morning when Evan pounded on his door to continue the barely-an-argument.)

"Just. When you ask. Just know the answer's already a forgone conclusion."

If forced at gunpoint to choose a favorite feature of Evan's, it's the way his eyes actually sparkle like a cartoon princess when he smiles. He sticks his tongue between his teeth and taps his pinky against the second knuckle of Tommy's ring finger. "Noted," he teases, and Tommy doesn't even protest this time, when Evan picks up the tab.

#bucktommy #bucktommy ficlet #this is the bts scouting photos fault actually

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always-just-red · 5 months ago

Note

I wanted a slightly suggestive fluff with the twins if that's alright👁️👄👁️

A scenario in which they're finally done with Sylus's tasks for the day and get to spend some time with MC

CRYINGGG anon I low-key did deviate from the brief but I had this idea and I just ended up running with it. I hope you enjoy, regardless! I went into this ambivalent towards Luke and Kieran but something just possessed me honestly. Also dragged Sylus into it because there's no way in hell I wasn't subjecting him to this dynamic!! 😇 (I made MC here separate from canon MC for plot reasons, but if you want a fic with the twins and canon MC, just let me know!)

Onychinus' Finest

Luke and Kieran x Reader

Summary: All in a day's work for Sylus's loyal and committed worker bees crows

Genre: fluff & shenanigans

Warnings/Additional tags: MDNI (not smut but it's a lil spicy and I'd rather play it safe tbh), f!reader, nonMC!reader, platonic Sylus x reader, humour, swearing, suggestion, kisses, the twins are just obsessed with your legs honestly and who could blame them

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Your call connects almost instantly.

“What?” Sylus hisses from the other end, and you get the impression he’s disappointed.

“Oof,” you groan, smiling, “what’s the matter, boss? Waiting on a call from a certain Deepspace Hunter?”

There’s silence in your ear, but not far from you, Kieran snickers. Your smile broadens. “You have three seconds,” Sylus seethes, with the precarity of a pot that could boil over at any moment, “to tell me what I want to hear.”

Three seconds is a bit of a push. You’re sat on a desk and Kieran is tapping away at the computer beside you, the light of the screen catching the sharp features of his mask; he looks like something from a horror story. You nudge his knee with your foot. He glances at you.

Wrap it up, you signal with a twirl of your forefinger.

His mask tilts downwards, almost imperceptibly, and you know he’s glaring at you from behind it. He flashes his middle finger back and you chuckle, watching him return to his work. “Files should be on their way shortly,” you explain to Sylus, because you know when to stop pushing your luck. “Ever’s upped the security on these damn computers. The device that guy sold you didn’t do shit.”

It’s also now pieces of a device, shattered against the floor from when Kieran had thrown it down and stepped on it in frustration. You’re not gonna mention that.

Sylus sighs impatiently, but there’s a hint of regret. “I knew there was something off about that deal. Do you think he tipped them off?”

You glance around the room and it’s littered with bodies. Not dead! Just… unconscious. At least, most of them, you think. “Yeah…” you muse. It was a lot more security than there should have been in a high-rise office in the middle of the night. “You might be onto something there, boss.”

Another sigh from Sylus. You watch Luke as he finishes looting— wait, no— checking the last of the security guards for anything helpful. He’s found a phone and he’s staring down at it, head tilted, reminding you of Mephisto. You briefly wonder what came first: the crow masks or the crow-like behaviour. Maybe you’ll ask Sylus one day.

Luke lifts the phone, holding it at arm’s length, and you realise he’s taking a selfie. He pivots until you and Kieran are in the background, and you lean into the frame, making a peace sign with your free hand. The moment is captured. Luke tosses the phone over his shoulder and it hits the floor with a crack.

“Are you all alright?” Sylus checks, and you know his eyes are burning with frustration, even though you can’t see them. He wears a mask too— most of the time— it’s just a little more figurative than yours or the twins’. You’re an expert at reading past them by now.

“Yeah,” you say, “we signed up for this, remember? You’ve got the best of the best, right here.” You glance between Luke and Kieran. “Well, the best of the best and her sidekicks.”

“Hey!” Kieran interjects. “You wanna have a go on this computer?”

“No,” you lilt back sweetly. What’s he gonna do— make you? Sure enough, he goes back to tapping away, his head sagging slightly, and you can tell he’s pouting.

Luke has wandered closer to the pair of you. “How much longer?” he whines, throwing himself into a wheely chair, setting it on a slow collision course with Kieran’s. You stop it with your leg.

“Shut up,” Kieran snaps. “At least I’m doing something.”

“I can do something,” Luke retorts. He captures your ankle, pulling it away from the leg of his chair, and rests a hand on your shin.

“Something isn’t in the mood right now.” You lift your foot from his grasp, inching it up his lower abdomen, and he groans as you plant it against his chest. “So unprofessional,” you tut.

You’d stifled your phone against your chest, but you can hear a deep voice leaking out of it. “Say that again, boss?” you request, bringing it back to your ear.

“How long is this going to take?” Sylus repeats.

“Not long. You know what they say, though…” You meet the eyes of Luke’s mask. Your tone drops: “All good things to those who wait.”

Luke’s chair squeaks, rolling back as you push him away with a soft kick.

“Fine,” Sylus murmurs, “Mephisto is with me. Stay on the line, and send the files through when you can. I’ll check them before you leave. If they knew we were coming, there’s a chance that—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the picture,” you interrupt. You get Kieran’s attention again, then gesture between the computer and the phone. The beak of his mask dips as he nods.

Luke has used your lapse of focus to draw himself close to you again. He takes your ankle once more and guides it to rest in his lap, one hand tight— holding you in place— and the other deftly undoing the buckles on your boot. After a few clinks, he pulls it from your foot, the leather dragging down over your skin and leaving it cold. He throws the boot at his twin’s leg.

Kieran huffs as it tumbles to the floor. He doesn’t look away from the computer, but you know he wants to. Now that’s professional.

Decidedly committed to another priority, Luke draws shapes on your lower leg, his finger grazing over your shin and ankle. He’s staring down, fixated, and maybe they aren’t shapes— maybe they’re letters. Every stroke of his finger is deliberate. You could ask what he’s writing, but you really don’t care so long as it’s more than a word or two.

If it is, he doesn’t have the patience for it. His fingers walk higher, stopping only as they reach your knee. The fabric of your dress is draped over your leg and he pushes it aside, letting it slink closer to the floor. He looks up at you, head angled like a question.

“Any progress?” Sylus asks.

You’re holding your phone between your ear and your shoulder, both hands splayed on the desk beside you so you can lean slightly back. “Getting there,” you say, lips curving. You’re not looking at the computer.

You could swear you hear Luke laugh, but it’s ever so faint. He rests his whole hand on you, warming your lower leg with broader strokes, and whatever he wrote has been erased. Your breath catches as his touch moves above your knee, and it’s a tiny sound; no-one would notice.

Kieran’s mask turns towards you. “Oh, come on,” he sighs. “No fair.”

It’s an intimate art: seeing behind a mask. You have to notice everything.

“So hurry up,” Luke answers, his voice heavier than the last time he spoke. His chest rises and falls with every breath, just a little slower, a little deeper.

Kieran rolls his eyes—you guess, from the listless way his attention goes back to the screen— and you detect a huff. “Not fair,” he says to himself. He repeats it as he punches keys with his fingers: “Not fair. Not fair.”

Luke shakes his head gently: a fond exasperation rather than anything serious. He rolls his chair closer until he’s framed by your legs, then lifts your ankle to rest on his shoulder. His fingers curl, the pads of them brushing over the top of your foot idly, but it tickles, so you try to pull away. He grasps your ankle again. “Nuh-uh, kitten,” he teases.

It’s one of your favourite in-jokes; you laugh. Sylus can still hear you, and you’re glad he doesn’t know it’s at his expense. “Something funny?” he asks. Maybe he does know.

“Yeah,” you say. He could string you upside-down with his Evol and you’d still never tell him what.

Luke is chuckling to himself, and the sound changes as he lifts his mask just enough to free the lower half of his face. It’s not the first time, but it sobers you instantly. He turns to press his lips to your ankle, leans in— kisses further up. Leans in again— his mouth moves higher.

“Why so wriggly?” he speaks into your knee. “Stop.”

“You stop,” you counter, reaching forward to grab one of the horns peeking out of his hood. You use it to pull him away. Make him look at you. “Your little book on conquest doesn’t work on me.”

His lips widen into a smirk.

“What book?” Sylus’s voice echoes.

You smirk as well. “Ask your pet hunter.”

You’re interrupted by a thud and your head spins. Kieran is standing up, slapping the top of the computer in frustration. “C’mon, work!” he urges. “So freakin’ slow.”

“Ah, ah, ah.” You shoo him away from the computer like you would a too-friendly pigeon from your lunch.

He flaps back in answer, his hand engaging yours in a brief slap-fight before he backs down. He slumps into his chair, defeated. “It’s almost there,” he groans, folding his arms. “Hey, Luke? Wanna swap?”

“No.”

“Do it,” you prompt.

Luke’s head rolls begrudgingly. “Yes ma’am. Jeez.” He plants a warm kiss on your leg again before clambering out from underneath it, pulling his mask back down over his face.

Another moment later and Kieran is in front of you instead. “You ok?” you wonder out loud.

“Bored.” He rests his head sideways on your thigh. His fingers find your bare lower leg and he runs them up, down, up, down, but it’s soft and purposeless. Soon, his head lifts— thin, red eyes staring up at you. The gaze doesn’t waver as he leans back in his chair and starts to unfasten your other boot.

“She’s gonna get cold,” Luke quips from the computer.

“Nah. She’s not.”

Your skin prickles as Kieran pulls away your boot, like a reflection of his brother, but tortuously more slow. He lets the cool air of the room set in. “Huh,” he corrects himself. “Maybe she is.”

You get the sense you’re being punished; both of them are petty. You’re pettier, though. “Sylus?” you speak into the phone.

“Mmm?”

“Did I ever tell you about the time that Kieran— ah!”

In a heartbeat Kieran has lifted his mask— not enough, but enough— and planted a kiss above your knee. His hand is around your leg, pushing it further from the other, and you can’t help but gasp again.

“What are you…” Sylus starts to ask, but then he changes his mind. “No. I don’t want to know.”

“You sure, boss?” you chuckle breathlessly. “It might surprise you.”

“Nothing would surprise me at this point, sweetie. Those files had better be on their way.”

You tear your gaze away from Kieran to glance over at Luke. He’s sat, propped on an elbow, his chin in his palm, and he’s definitely not looking at the computer. He sits up straight under your scrutiny. Turns to the screen. After a few more drums of the keyboard, he gives you a thumbs up.

“Got it,” Sylus chimes in, no doubt perusing the files already. “Nothing seems amiss. Nice work.”

“Thanks, boss,” you grin. “I’ve been working very, very hard.”

The phone is snatched from your hand. “She has, sir!” Kieran speaks into it. He stands, putting it on speaker before setting it down beside you. “I think she deserves the night off.”

There’s a crash as he shoves the computer from the desk, and Luke leans back, swinging his feet up onto the now empty space. He lifts his mask marginally to put two fingers to his lips, whistling in celebration. There’s a slow clap for good measure, too.

Kieran bows to him with a flourish. Then to you; you bow your head back.

“I’m hanging up,” Sylus states plainly.

“Ok,” you chirp, distracted. “I hope she calls you soon, boss!”

“I don’t… I’m not…” your leader stutters. He reconsiders. “Thank you. Don’t think, however, that I’m—”

He doesn’t get to finish the warning, threat, or whatever else it was. Luke’s finger stands proudly on the phone, still connected to the ‘end call’ button. “What?” he dismisses as you and Kieran look at him. “I slipped! If boss asks, you saw me slip.”

“I did see it,” Kieran nods.

“I saw it too,” you add solemnly.

There’s silence for a single moment, and there’s never silence with you three around. It lasts as long as it usually does.

You all burst into laughter.

#🖋rach is actually writing #luke and kieran x reader #luke and kieran #love and deepspace #platonic sylus x reader #sylus #lads #lnds #l&ds

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perlelune · 1 year ago

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no body, no crime | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

Your childhood friend returns from his exile in district 12, but he's not the sweet, quiet boy you once knew anymore.

Warnings: NON-CON, Plinth!Reader, Gaslighting, Drugging, Murder, Forced Marriage, Forced Pregnancy, Loss of Virginity, Somnophilia

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Astonishment widens your gaze when you find your mother sitting on your bed when you go back upstairs. Her hands are twitching in her lap and she makes a beeline to you when she sees you.

“So, how did it go?” she asks, urgency laced in her tone.

Your brows knit. “It went fine. Why do you even care, mother?”

“Coriolanus will be a good friend to have in the future,” she says, her hands seizing yours for emphasis.

“A good friend?”

Your mother rolls her eyes. She then tugs you by the hand and takes you to your bed so you can both sit on it. The mattress dips with both your weights.

“Don’t you know, sweetie? How well his tribute did in the last Hunger Games? That Lucy Gray girl-”

“You know I don’t like to watch it,” you underscore, your frown accentuating. You don’t know why anyone would willingly tune in to this butchery and call it entertainment.

Her hold on your hand grows tighter. “You need to grow up. You’re not a child anymore.”

You tamp down your hurt at her criticism.

She licks her lips and continues, “And it’s not just that. He’s on the fast track to becoming top student at the University, he’s Volumnia Gaul’s apprentice and he’s even got sway with-”

“What does any of it have to do with me, mother?” you interrupt, your well of patience running dry as she keeps singing the young man’s praises. It’s not like you’re not aware of Coriolanus’ accomplishments. He’s ambitious and clever. It was always obvious he’d get far in life. But clearly your mother’s trying to make a point and you’d like for her to stop beating around the bush and just spill it.

“He likes you.”

“I like him too,” you reply with a shrug.

She tilts her head, her interest seeming piqued. “Do you really?”

“Yes, I’m glad we can be friends again.”

“Friends is a good start. Your father and I started as friends…”

You draw your hands back, standing up in shock at her implication. Outrage blooms inside you. This is just like Demetria Plinth. While you’re aware your mother doesn’t approve of your current match, you never thought she’d be so devious.

“I’m engaged, mother.”

She sighs as she stands up too. Disappointment paints her features.

“I know, I know. And William’s a sweet boy but-”

“But what?”

She tilts your chin up. “What kind of future do you think you’ll have with him, hm?”

“One full of happiness and love,” you defend hotly.

She bursts out a chuckle. “Love and happiness do not provide food or shelter. But a match to a promising young man from a great house would-”

You cut her off again, peeved at her repeated ignorance of your wishes, “Like I said, we’re friends, mother, nothing else. I’m getting married in three weeks, whether you and Dad like it or not.”

Her lips clamp shut as she steps back from you.

“And you have made that exceedingly clear, how little you cared for our opinion…”

“It’s not that, I just wished-”

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “It’s no matter. Just promise me one thing?”²

“What thing?” you ask, suspicion clear in your voice.

“Keep him close,” she says, her eyes softening. “Can you at least do that for us, sweetheart?”

“I’ll try.”

“I’m being serious,” she emphasizes. “After your brother…” Her voice breaks at the mention of her son. Tears start to press behind your eyes at the sight of her grief-stricken expression. “We can’t afford any misstep. Do you understand?”

You don’t have it in you to fight her anymore, not when she’s like this. So you wrap your arms around her, giving her a tight hug. “I understand,” you reply, rubbing her back as she weeps in silence.

Naturally, your own tears follow suit. Whenever your mother cries, it's never too long before you start crying as well.

You may not go as far in your relationship with Coriolanus as your mother wants you to, but you can at least keep him in your life. And based on your encounter this afternoon, it will not be hard. You want him in your life. You missed him.

You just hope your mother learns to accept that you and Coriolanus will never be more than friends.

God, you despise these events. You peer at your lavish surroundings once again. They certainly didn’t spare any expense, and this includes your father. Every inch of the palatial room screams wealth, from the champagne tower, to the elaborate sculptures and gold accents from floor to ceiling.

Internally, you wince. This is the kind of futile displays of privilege the Capitol likes to indulge in. A waste of resources when people in the Districts are starving.

You bet if Sejanus were here, he’d feel the same.

Sipping lightly from your glass of posca, you nod along at the man who speaks to you. It’s been almost an hour and he hasn’t realized you haven’t uttered a single word. You wonder if he even cares. Gauis Creed, Festus Creed’s father, is the kind of man who basks in the sound of his own voice more than anyone else’s.

Eventually, you excuse yourself, pretending you’re tired and need to sit.

William follows you as you go find your father’s table.

You unleash a sigh as you plop down on one of the velvet chairs around the table. An Avox approaches you, plate of appetizers in hand, and offers you one. You refuse with a smile, your heart twisting as you meet their gaze.

William’s hand folds over yours.

“You’re okay, baby?” he asks, concern swimming in his green eyes.

“I’m fine. These things are just so exhausting.”

His thumb sweeps over your knuckles as he smiles at you. “We just need to stay long enough to be polite.”

“I know.”

William suddenly straightens his spine, his attention traveling above your head. You pivot in your seat to see what caught his eye.

Your breath hitches at the sight of Coriolanus. He smoothly walks into the room, locking arms with his cousin Tigris. His stylish crimson fit, a two piece suit with a white rose pinned to his breast pocket, highlights his good looks. His blonde locks are slicked back in that formal way you’ve seen him sport since he came back. He wears it well. It makes him look older, wiser.

He radiates confidence and you don’t miss the looks that trail him as he enters. The young heir of House Snow is making quite an impression.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” William inquires, smoothing the wrinkles in his suit and rearranging his lapels.

“Yeah, that’s him,” you reply, placing a hand on his arm in reassurance.

But your fiancé’s eyes don’t stray from Coryo. A frown mars his brow.

“Who’s the woman with him?”

“That’s Tigris, his cousin.”

Striking blue eyes slam into yours, making your heart skip a beat. You watch as the blonde whispers something to Clemensia Dovecote before weaving his way through the crowd.

“He’s making his way to us,” William says.

Frozen in your seat, you nod dumbly.

He glides in your direction, each of his steps graceful and determined. Not once does Coriolanus’ cobalt gaze strays from yours.

“You came,” you say when he’s in front of you.

He plucks your hand from your lap and drops an ephemeral, soft kiss on it. When he lets go of your hand, the feel of his lips linger, making your flesh tingle. You confine a gasp, your face warming. The move surprises you coming from Coriolanus. He knows etiquette better than anyone else. Doing this in front of your fiancé could be perceived as provocation.

You’re sure he didn’t mean it that way, being naturally suave and charming, but you wish he’d tone it down tonight to not give William the wrong impression.

“I made a promise to a pretty girl, so I had to,” he rasps, honey dripping in his deep timbre.

Part of you melts. Ten years ago, you’d have done anything for Coryo to notice you, let alone whisper words such as these to you.

You collect yourself, giving a nod as you rise from your seat.

You beam at his cousin. As always, she looks stunning. Tonight she wears a tight, scarlet dress that compliments her slender frame.

“Tigris, it’s been a while,” you chime.

“Too long,” she replies before hugging you.

You return the gesture. Tigris was always sweet to you. While you never went to school together as she’s three years older than you and Janus, there were many times she’d admonish children who pestered you. You remember wanting to be like her when you were younger, a poised, beautiful Capitol lady that’d make your parents proud.

It was before you realized how vapid most citizens of the Capitol are, that none of them care about anything that matters. Still, Tigris remains one of the kindest people you’ve ever encountered.

“You’ve grown into a gorgeous young woman,” she praises.

Despite you, a sliver of pride flutters inside you at her compliment.

The reunion is interrupted when your parents arrive.

As you expect, they barely acknowledge William, but they grin from ear to ear when addressing Coriolanus.

“You clean up nicely, young man,” Strabo lauds.

Your mother doles out similar praise, asking him where he got his shirt from.

“Shall we sit?” your dad adds.

“Oh, may we?”

“Don’t be silly. We made sure there’d be room for both of you.”

So that’s who the extra chairs were for. You wondered before. You suppose it makes sense now.

Everyone sits and food is brought to the table.

The tantalizing spread of meat and vegetables doesn’t entice you despite its artistic arrangement. Still, you dutifully gulp bite after bite, aware people in the districts are starving while you get to enjoy a fancy meal. You shouldn’t waste any of it.

The whole time, you try your best to ignore the way Coriolanus’ arm keeps grazing yours as he talks.

You stay quiet as the Snow cousins and your parents drone on about clothes and other frivolous matters.

When the conversation begins to veer to more serious topics however, your ears perk.

“...And we’ve been trying to raise the viewership for the next Hunger Games through-”

“Well, maybe if it wasn’t about sponsoring the murder of children, it’d be easier,” William notes, cutting your father off mid-sentence.

Quiet falls over the table. Strabo’s jaw ticks while he glares angrily at your fiancé. Your mother shakes her head and tosses you a look of disapproval.

She doesn’t have to utter a single word for you to hear her thoughts loud and clear. They’re plainly written all over her face.

As for you, pride and love glow inside you as you twine your fingers with William’s.

Once again, he makes you feel like you’re not the mad one in this mad world.

“What do you think?”

Coriolanus’s abrupt question has you choking on your spoonful.

You cough and dab your mouth with a napkin, embarrassment swirling in your gut.

Beneath his intense stare, you quickly try to gather your words.

“Me? I…There has to be another way to discourage rebellions, a more humane way. Wouldn’t you agree?”

A tender smile unfurls on his lips. “You’re sweet.”

The symphonic orchestra on stage starts playing music. Some of the guests start joining the dancefloor, waltzing along to the melancholy tune.

Coriolanus suddenly gets to his feet and steals your hand.

“Do you mind?” he tells William while tugging you out of your chair.

“I…” your fiancé begins. But Coriolanus drags you to the dancefloor, not waiting for his response.

Too dumbstruck to utter a word yourself, you let him.

He slips his arm around your waist and sways to the music. You follow his lead, trying to discard how unnerving the proximity is. The faint scent of roses coats your senses, rendering you a bit dizzy. It reminds you of your garden.

“He speaks like a rebel,” he says.

You stiffen. “He speaks the truth, and he isn’t afraid to do it. It’s what I love about him.”

Coriolanus scrutinizes you, his blank expression impossible to read. You gasp when he spins you. He then pulls your back flush against his broad chest. Your heart hammers wildly and you find yourself praying he doesn’t hear it.

His soft whisper fans over your ear. “He’ll get you in trouble.”

“Maybe I like trouble,” you reply.

His deep chuckle ripples along your neck. “Hm, do you, princess?”

Your throat goes dry. You pivot in your heels so you aren’t so close, remembering that William is a few feet away watching.

Your cheeks burn.

“Coryo,” you mumble, lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Yes?”

“You’ve changed, you know.”

“Hm, maybe it’s my hair. I’m trying to grow it out again.”

You shake your head.

“It’s not that. You’re just…a bit different.”

You don’t remember him ever being so bold and…so many other things you can’t place. You simply know that the longer you are in his presence, the longer it feels as if you’ll tumble into an abyss, one you won’t so easily climb your way out of.

He slants his head.

“Good different or bad different?”

You shrug and smile.

“I guess we’ll have to see.”

The gala leaves you rattled, hesitant to speak to Coriolanus for a few days. You know he’s not to blame for your parents’ behavior, but he didn’t exactly help matters with everything he did that night. Your mother for instance couldn’t stop raving about it on the way back home. You were grateful William wasn’t there to hear it. He’s worked hard to obtain your parents’ approval, even pretending to be someone he wasn’t at first just to impress them. But nothing he’s done ever worked. By mere virtue of his birth, the match is ill-fated in your parents’ eyes.

Maybe distance with the blond is what is best. Once you and William are married, they’ll have no choice but to accept it after all. It’ll be done and there’ll be nothing else for them to say.

“Your mother said I could find you here.”

Startled, you nearly drop your embroidery hoop.

Your head snaps up.

You’re welcomed by the sight of Coriolanus’ towering frame darkening the entrance of the sunroom, sporting a white shirt and a long black coat.

“Are you upset?” he asks, heading towards you.

His bluntness, coupled with his unexpected presence, snatches the words from your tongue for a few minutes.

You blink and frown, focusing on driving the needle through the cotton fabric.

“Upset, why would I be upset?” you evasively reply.

“The gala…” His voice is closer now, the smell of roses floating around you.

You dip your head and examine your needlework. You frown. It’s a bit crooked. The stitches aren’t as tight as they should be, making the petals you were sewing appear misshapen.

“You’ve also been avoiding me,” he adds. Your breath catches as you realize he’s sitting next to you now. “You leave right after every class.”

It’s true that even at the University you’ve made yourself more scarce. You didn’t expect him to notice. But you surmise nothing ever escapes Coriolanus Snow’s sharp senses. As long as you’ve known him, he’s been this way. He’d let the tiniest, most insignificant problem corral his entire attention until he solved it.

“I haven’t,” you mutter, shrugging. “I’m not upset, Coryo.”

“So why won’t you look at me?” You squeeze your mouth shut, sewing as if your life depended on it.

“Look at me, princess,” he repeats, his hand finding your chin to force your gazes to meet. Your nerves thrum as he gauges you.

“I’m looking at you,” you whisper.

The blond’s forehead creases. His deep timbre softens while he explains, “I just want to be here for you, take care of you. That’s all. It’s just that…” He releases your face, his shoulders sagging. “Nevermind.”

“Tell me,” you insist, now eager to know what words were about to cross his lips.

It’s his turn to dodge your eyes now. “I probably shouldn’t.”

Your frustration hits its crest.

“Now I want to know even more.”

Coriolanus studies you for a while before a long, weary sigh drops from his chest.

“It’s what Sejanus wanted,” he confesses, his soft inflection wavering.

You exhale sharply. “What?”

His throat bobs, emotions storming his blue eyes as they turn glassy with unshed tears.

“It’s almost like he knew, like he could feel it coming, you know?” Coriolanus pauses as if to gather himself. “He said ‘take care of her for me, please.’ He even had tears in his eyes.”

The hoop slips from your grasp as you gape at him in shock. Your voice comes out a watery quaver, tears welling in your eyes too.

“Did he really say that?”

“He did,” he confirms with a nod. A lone tear travels down his cheek. “I keep wishing I could have saved him, you know?”

He sounds disgusted with himself and your heart wrenches. It’s not like Coriolanus had anything to do with your brother’s death and could have prevented it. It saddens you that he feels the need to carry a burden that isn’t his own. All he did was be a friend to Sejanus. The picture of the two of them Janus carried proves it.

Without thought, your hand reaches his.

“This isn’t your fault. None of it is.”

His fingers curl around yours.

“I just want to honor your brother’s last wishes. He was my best friend.” His thumb caresses the back of your hand. “And I know I can never replace him but…let me be here for you, okay?”

You chuckle through the blurry veil of your tears. You can’t believe Coryo carried this weight with him all along. You wish he’d told you earlier.

He simply wanted to be here for you. You’re both grieving your brother’s death, after all. Guilt trickles within you for even doubting him.

“Of course,” you reply, giving a tearful smile.

His hands rise to cup your face. He gingerly wipes your tears as you sniffle.

His face comes alight with a broad, tight-lipped smile.

“I’m very glad to hear that, princess.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas fanfiction #hunger games #coriolanus x reader

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dollyonm0lly · 2 months ago

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Hi, I love your things to much💕💕

So I was thinking maybe Lucius has also an niece, the daughter of commodus

No one knows of your existence, you are a concubine for the emperors. They have more but your their favorite. Then one day Lucius wanted to help you escape, you did not and told the emperors of it. Normally they are never soft doms, but this time they are and you are praised for what a good girl you are to them

Soo, soft stuff for you guys!! Or I tried at least, lolol, im still very sick, so this did wonders to me. <3 The reader in this one is kinda pathetic tho, not sorry.

“Love you, my Emperor… Love you so much…” – Both Emperors hear you say in your meek voice, like a song to their ears, you can feel Geta's warm hand on your cheek, caressing the soft skin of your face, which subconsciously seeks more of his affection, rubbing itself against his palm like an abandoned kitten would, your tongue obediently sticking out of your mouth, which he wastes no time in placing his thumb on top of, letting you explore it with your lips passionately. You close your eyes, feeling the pleasurable sensation of fingers running through your hair, combing your strands, untangling them, massaging your scalp. You try to sharpen your senses, focusing on their sweet aroma, Caracalla's hand massaging your head, urging you to lean even more towards Geta's hand, making you lose yourself more in their caresses, it's delicate. It's special, you feel special in this moment. You were good today, very good indeed.

“Nooo…” – You meow in disappointment when you feel Geta's hand start to move away from your face, instantly following it with your head so as not to lose its warmth, surprisingly Geta allows you to do so, on normal days, he would have brushed you away and slapped you across the face for your incessant neediness. You smile at today's change in attitude, just as you feel like purring when Caracalla starts spreading kisses in your uncovered cheek. You feel so loved by both of them, you wish that every day would be like this from now on, even if as an unattainable dream, you know why they are acting like this, you're not getting all of this good treatment on a silver platter, you earned it, deserved it, even though you had to sacrifice some things for others, you are content with your choice.

This feels good, you did good, you think to yourself, you don't feel guilty. You swallow hard, an audible gulp, you try to push that look of hurt and betrayal to the back of your mind. His look of hurt and betrayal. He seems like a ghost in your life now, you can feel the weight of guilt on your back, making you have to shake your head from side to side to shake off the negative feelings. It was worth it, it was worth it, it was worth it, it was worth it… You repeat in your head, until everything becomes clear again, until you can again feel the comforting caresses on your body, welcoming you. Finally, you are welcomed.

“We plan to make love to you today, my dear” – Geta says, taking your mind off other matters and focusing on both Emperors again, you open your eyes to admire him, he has what you would say is the closest to a sweet smile on his features than you will ever see from him. You can feel your heart skip a beat, turning to jelly in Caracalla's arms, who now holds you a little more firmly against his body, almost placing you on his lap.

“Make love?” – You question curiously, your voice dreamy with false expectations, never in the many years you have served them have you ever heard of this lovemaking thing.

“Don't you love us?” – You hear Caracalla questioning in your ear, pretending to be hurt by your question, his head rubbing against your neck, his hair tickling your face, like a puppy.

“I do…!” – You respond instantly, surprised that they would even ask you that, oblivious to the manipulative tone behind it. You did everything you did out of love for them, and out of love for the attention and affection they can provide you, in times like these, they are the only ones who could provide the minimum of security for you and your well-being, they make sure you know that, the certainty that nothing would happen to you as long as you are in their favor.

Silence falls, you can feel the words you want to say on the tip of your tongue, but uncertainty makes you hold them back for minutes longer.

“Do you love me…?” – You ask both Geta and Caracalla, you can't contain the anticipation in your voice, even if it's weak and hesitant. You are met with laughter from the twins, they laugh at your question, they think you're such a box of surprises, you really were born to be an entertainer just for them!

“You are so cute” – Caracalla says, it sounds mocking, just like their laugh, and it wasn't the answer you were hoping to receive, but even so, it makes your heart warm inside your chest. They think you're cute. They think something of you, you are something. Your happy little smile earns you a pat on the head from Geta.

“Cute indeed…” – Geta responds in agreement, both twins exchange glances, Geta licks his lips before smiling at you – "Why don't you get more comfortable for us, dear?” – He gestures to the bed, encouraging you sneak further back.

Caracalla helps you with that, taking the initiative to crawl to the headboard of the bed himself, resting his back against it, his pale legs spread wide to create the perfect space for you. He calls you over, patting his thigh twice, and you are drawn to him like a moth to light. You shyly walk over to him, turning to lay your back against his chest, with the two of you sitting in this position, he wraps his arms around your body, hugging you close, the easy access allowing him to bury his nose in your neck, laying his forehead on your shoulder. – "Help me get these off” – He says in a controlled tone, trying to be loving, you appreciate that, normally he would have impatiently instructed you, as if you were the fool for not knowing what he wanted before he even asked, or he would have pushed you and taken them off himself. You lift your hips off the bed a little, making it easier for him to remove your panties, doing so delicately with the tips of his fingers on the elastic, letting you feel the fabric slide over your skin until it is completely removed, earning you a little kiss of thanks on your exposed shoulder.

You miss the way the twins look at each other or how Caracalla hands your panties to Geta, who puts them in a place on the bed that he can remember later on. But one thing you don't miss is how Geta now also approaches your body, trapping you, his hands resting on the headboard that Caracalla leans on, trapping both your head and his between his arms. On Caracalla's lap, you open your legs, inviting Geta to settle between them, something that he gladly accepts.

“Let's get you all prepped and ready, dear” – Geta says as he admires your face, his hands going down to the bottom of your robe, lifting it to give him a better view of your body and intimacy, meanwhile, Caracalla does the same, letting your robe slide down over your shoulders, leaving kisses on the new free skin, your bust now exposed to the cold air of the room, your robe becoming a mess that only covers your torso and nothing more. You watch the way Geta takes his two fingers, the index and the middle one, between his lips, sucking them with intent, his eyes never straying from yours, Caracalla's own fingers already at work, moving down your body until they reach your lower lips, opening you for his brother, the cold air hitting your pussy.

Geta and Caracalla prepare you carefully, both watching attentively as your entrance slowly gets used to the intrusion of Geta's fingers, Caracalla stimulating your clitoris with his, every now and then you watch as he spits on his own hand before stimulating you again, they love the way you are always so tight, you crush their cock in the most perfect way possible. – "Must take good care of this cunt, it's my favorite one" – Caracalla growls, licking a drop of sweat that previously ran down your face, you giggle happily in the midst of pleasure, yours is the favorite, no other.

“She liked what she heard, she almost cut off the blood circulation in my fingers” – Geta jokes, referencing to the way you clenched and squeezed his fingers when you heard the compliments, you love it when they compliment you, you wish they would do it more often. – "How would you like to be taken today, dear?” – He questions, letting you make some of the choices, tonight will be about you and what you want, that's what they agreed between themselves.

“Want to be hugged…” – Embarrassed, you confess, you didn't expect such a needy response from yourself, however, this is a unique chance, unfortunately, you recognize that, you can't let the shyness of being so emotionally dependent on them take over. You need their embrace like you need air, you hate to be truthful to yourself.

“Awfully romantic, huh” – Caracalla chuckles, Geta arches his eyebrows in agreement, neither daring to question or stand against your decision. Geta helps you sit more precisely on his brother's lap, Caracalla's cock now rubbing at your entrance, you hold him by the base of his penis, slowly introducing him inside you, earning a moan from both of you when he reaches the end, you can feel it almost hitting your cervix, reaching all the perfect places in your pussy. You rest your head on Geta's chest, getting used to the feeling of his brother inside of you, as does Caracalla, who tries to control himself by resting his head on your back, it is a difficult task for both of them, being so patient with your body, normally they wouldn't prepare you or at least wait for you to get used to the feeling of intrusion.

A few minutes pass, your breathing gradually regulates, your pussy starts to want more instead of trying to repudiate what's in it, you look at Geta, and that's all he needs for confirmation, getting closer to you, you do the same to him that you did to his twin, holding him at his base, your delicate fingers feeling his pubic hair rise in goosebumps with the touch, and you bring him to your entrance, he lets you do everything in your own time, watching as you slowly insert him too in your pussy. It's a tight fit, you feel like you're being torn in half, and as tears stream down your face, a groan is heard from Geta and Caracalla, oh, how they love the feeling of being milked alive by you and your fucking perfect cunt, you can feel Caracalla's nails digging into your arm unconsciously, something he tries to alleviate by distributing kisses on your back. They hurt you so lovingly that you can almost pretend it never hurt.

As agreed, they embrace you, Geta wraps his arms around your waist, while Caracalla's make your hips their home, both pressing you against their own bodies, making you become inseparable from each other. You let one of your arms fall over Geta's shoulder, resting there, while the other wraps itself around Caracalla's head, playing with the strands of hair on the back of his neck, pulling him into a fervent kiss, his tongue tasting your mouth as if there was nothing more delicious, his moans being straight sinful on your lips. You rub your lower body against Geta's, seeking to stimulate your clit against his pubic mound, his hair there becoming sticky with your fluids, he mercifully helps you, letting a globule of saliva come out of his lips into the middle of your bodies, lubricating your movements more, earning him an animalistic moan from you and the separation of your kiss with Caracalla, starting one with Geta as naked and raw as the past, the carnal desire speaking for itself. Your minimal movements still do a lot to stimulate the cocks inside you, earning a unanimous moan with every rub you make or every adjustment, soon, you find yourself seeking more of that exciting feeling with the taste of heaven, moving your waist so that you start to ride them gradually.

It's almost too much, the way they let you make your own rhythm, your own dance, just helping you stand on shaky knees ready to give up, but you can't, you can't stop, you need that release that's so far away but so close that you can take it in your hands. You can barely see them anymore, your eyes close, you let yourself drown in the sound of skin slapping against skin, the sticky feeling of sweat, the profanities and compliments, the kisses, caresses and wounds, if you try hard, you can almost focus on the various I love yous that come out of Caracalla's mouth, who barely realizes who he really is when the pleasure is too much, and they would accuse you of being the romantic one, you laugh in your head.

You hear Geta's moan of pleasure mixed with pain as the hand on his shoulder begin to scratch and tear at it, drops of blood running down his bare, pale back. But he barely protests, being a good girl really does have its perks, huh. If being a good girl is always going to result in you having the affection of your Emperors and a free pass to do things without being punished, maybe you should rat people out more often, you let your mind wander as you reach your climax, writhing between their bodies, both of them letting their cocks impale you inside to your heart's content, you would have them forever in you if you could, their cocks are just made for you, a gift from God just for you.

“I love your smell.”

“I love your eyes.”

“I love your body.”

“I love your voice.”

"I love your breasts.”

“I love your curves.”

“I love this fucking pussy.”

You hear them say, one after the other cumming inside you, painting your walls white, and your body red with each touch. You feel disgusting. You feel loved.

“Do you love me?” – You ask again, between gasps, just like them, you feel your vision start to darken, you feel so safe that you could fall asleep right now, a groan of discontent as they disconnect from inside you. Everything is almost like a pitch black, you feel them cleaning you, you being gently laid on the bed, something clothing fabric like cleaning your pussy and everything that runs out of it.

They open your lips, shoving the fabric into your mouth. Oh, it must be your panties, you assume even with your clouded mind. It tastes like your fluids mixed with their divine cum. You suck on it like a pacifier, bodies intertwining with yours on the bed.

“Yes.”

“Very much so.”

#i did not proof read this sorry guys #kinda short #but im not planning on doing long stuff #emperor geta x reader #emperor caracalla x reader

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