#he has no thumbs... please ignore this fact

[imorynn]

── ꨄ︎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 ( a. amberg)

── ꨄ︎ pairings : avis amberg ✘ fem!reader ── ꨄ︎ word count : 5.5k+ ── ꨄ︎ warnings / mentions : SMUT , fluff and bit of plot, gift giving, face sitting, overstimulation, oral ( avis receiving ), soft!dom!reader, strap usage ( reader using ), sub!avis, praise, cunnilingus, smudge of orgasm denial, fingering, romantic shittttt bc im fucking delusional

── ꨄ︎ tags : @multifandomme @multixfan @nutritionat @ephemeral-love-4

── ꨄ︎ dividers by : @cafekitsune !!!

a/n : DOES IT REALLYYYYY have to be one day of love when it can be the entire month ( ignore the fact that we're abt to end the month, ZIP it before I start swinging all sleep deprived ). ENJOYYYY bc I pulled 4 all nighters while doing personal art projects and now I am going to crash hard <3333

── VALENTINE’S DAY was a celebration Avis Amberg never thought she would revisit — certainly not like this. Not with a fervent devotion that poured unbidden from her every touch, nor with someone whose gaze held her as though the universe itself revolved at her feet. It simply was never meant for women such as Avis Amberg.

Or so she had convinced herself through the decades — each February fourteenth arriving like a hollow echo of what could have been.

Once upon a time, she had celebrated it with girlish enthusiasm, basking in the thrill of passion and romance, the holiday had been a canvas for her to paint her devotion in vivid strokes.

She had forgotten feeling like this. A melancholy of unspoken longing has always lumbered, it has always been this way ever since she was with… well, him. Decades were spent enduring his neglect and it had drained her of that hope to feel, to experience. The extravagant dinners and impersonal gifts he offered in the past were all exhibitions, vacant deeds to maintain appearances rather than tokens of affection.

Those years had extinguished something in her — bit by bit, day by day, until she believed there was no longer such purpose for such a superfluous day. For Avis, Valentine’s Day had become a performance — one she no longer cared to attend.

And then came you, rekindling that long-forgotten flame.

You were far from anyone she had ever encountered, youthful and unjaded by life’s cruelties. There was a vehemence in the way you treasured her, solely not for her beauty or her appellation, yet for the very profundity of her existence.

You worshiped her, something she had not thought she craved for until she got a taste of it, greedily consuming every droplet of whatever you provided. You did not see Avis Amberg, the former starlet or the long-suffering wife of Ace Studios’ kingpin; you saw a woman that longed to be cherished. And in return, she found herself rekindling the capacity to love, wholly, impenitently.

From the moment her eyelids fluttered open, the day unfurled exceedingly just for her. Her bedroom, once upon a time a mere retreat for sleep, had transformed into a haven of serenity, soaked in the gentle hues of dayspring's gold as it poured through extensive windows.

“Good morning, my love,” a soft peck had been met with her temple while she had blinked away the dosage of sleep. Your eyes were brimming with childlike enchantment as you stared down at her, as if the entire day ahead were a present waiting to be unwrapped. Breakfast awaited for her in the dining room, fruit glistening, pastries warm, tea rich and hot — just how she liked it.

Humming, Avis had simply reached for your hand and held it, her thumb circling the skin there with a smile upon her lips, auburn locks nestled against the elegant line of her clavicle.

“You’ve been busy, haven't you?” she mused, tone still soaked with rest, yet undeniably teasing when her gaze swept over you, your flushed anticipation, the way your body all but reverberated with the desire to please.

Your cheek lifted. “Just trying to give my love everything she deserves.”

That earned you the warmest gaze she always gave when it came to you. Lips puckering to linger on yours in a sweet kiss, fingers stroking the angle of your jaw.

Then, with the refined elegance of a woman who always knew what she wanted, she pulled away and shifted, fingers still tangled with yours when she moved to straddle your chest. Her robe, a silk, lush red, loosely tied, pried open just enough to display the velvet skin of her cleavage.

“But you wouldn’t mind if I took my time waking up first, darling?” she murmured and tilted her head, amusement flickering those pretty browns when she rolled her hips forward, just enough for the heat of her to press into you.

You gave her a cheeky smile, her fingers carding through your hair. “None at all.”

Flutters within her flowing core, damp lace between her thighs. Desire blazed from your gaze and searing palms curved over her ass beneath robes. Even through silk, she felt the force of your teasing smack against her thigh before yanking her down to your salivating mouth.

You worshipped her, a queen seated upon her very own throne carved by flesh, blood, and bones. Valves of heat trickled down the base of her spine and slithered into the pit of her stomach with every lap, every slurp, every soft suction you gifted.

Desire drove your tongue, lapping at the dripping seam of her cunt; prying open the puffy folds and you indulged in more of her slick cascading from her hole.

She almost choked on a moan of pleasure when you squeezed her rear, her clit kicking against the press of your nose as you sealed your mouth over her plump cunt.

A constellation of tears clung to the edges of her fluttering lashes, flaming sparkles swirled in her vision. “That’s it, baby, fuck…”

Vocals were stinging within her throat and she struggled to breathe, thighs constricting around your head while your hands curled over her hips, controlling the slow, gyrating motions created as they escalated.

The gentle suckle of your lips coaxed the knot in her stomach to unfurl, your own veins flooded with white hot bliss and her nerves frayed. A blistering moan puffed against her searing skin as her juices spewed, translucent weaves webbing your fervently moving lips, dribbling down your chin as you drank up her intoxicating fill, lovingly coaxing her to ride out her orgasm.

Your hands slid her hips down to your stomach, propping yourself up in order to capture her ecstatic features entirely in your mind. For a second, all she could do was breathe, her chest rising and falling, fingers twisting over your shoulders. Eyes fluttered open, gaze heavy-lidded when she looked down at you with a fulfilled smile.

“That’s a way to start the day,” she serenaded in her exhalation, stroking back a few damp strands of hair from your forehead, her thumb then sweeping across your cheek. “You spoil me, darling.”

You turned, pushing a kiss into the center of her palm and paralleled her expression. “That is exactly what I intend to do this entire day.”

The hours passed in a blur of ecstatic indulgence. You had arranged everything meticulously, ensuring she needed only to follow your lead, already tinkering ahead of time for her to not be needed in the studio. A decadent breakfast — her favorite — enjoyed on the balcony overlooking the fine greeneries and lush flowers of her garden. A leisurely afternoon spent exploring a curated selection of vintage records and rare books you’d sourced, each one chosen with her particular tastes in mind.

And then, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the pinnacle of your plan unveiled itself.

Even though you had made it clear today was to spoil her endlessly, Avis spared no expense, of course. She never did when it came to you. She was not the type to hold back, and Valentine’s Day was no exception. A new dress in your preferred hue, tailored to your every dip and curve. A box of imported confections that dissolved like velvet on the tongue. A cord of dazzling pearls clasped around your neck by her own fingers, her lips brushing the slope of your collarbone as she breathed out just how stunning you appeared sporting them.

And apart from the luxury, there was a heartfelt sincerity woven through her generous gestures in which reminded you that this was not just some display of wealth. It was love, fervent and deeply rooted.

Now that fervent love was awaiting to be unleashed with her gloved hand clasped atop of yours, opening the door and allowing for her to step in first. The household had been empty for the night, seeing as you paid the staff generously to give you time alone with Avis, and Claire had been out and about on a romantic rendezvous with her boyfriend, so everything had been greatly set in plan.

“After you, love.”

Her lips, lacquered in a shade of wine, tilted upward in an alluring curve, only for it to widen and chuckle at the feel of your palm squeezing and gently pushing at the clothed curve of her ass. “What surprises await for me now, hmm?”

You tapped her lower back, motioning for her to go upstairs. “You’ll see.”

A flawless brow rose at the light laugh erupting from you, and her hand pried away from yours. She clutched at her bouquet of crimson roses you had gifted her, the point of her nose brushing along their floral leaves, inhaling their aroma.

As she sauntered forward, she could not help but tilt back and look at you. It was still there, that lovesick smile. The smile lingered on your kiss-supple lips, hiding behind the faint stain of her ruby lipstick there as well, clogging her brain at the notion that you were hers.

You were studying her figure intently, no doubt making a mental list of all the places your lips would caress once you got to the bedroom. The jacket cinched at her waist, its sharp lines softened by the trim that rested over her shoulders. Her matching skirt hugged the plump curve of her hips, ending just below the knee, the sway of it graceful with every step.

She came to a stop at the front of the doors. Turning, she came chest to chest with you, and she sighed deeply. Overwhelmed at that stare of adoration when you became her line of vision. Overwhelmed at the way you nudged your nose across the bridge of hers, inhaling her with fluttered eyelids, and that made one of the two moan.

You gave a small laugh at the way she felt foreignly bashful, because of course she was the one who moaned. The simplest acts of affections done by you will always draw a reaction out of Avis. “You are crushing my roses now.”

Hazed eyes, seemingly only aware of her and that flushed demeanor that went perfectly with the rust wine of her outfit, fluttered quickly down to the flowers in her hold, yet the proximity with Avis was not lost. Your forehead brushed hers, murmuring, "Don't worry too much ... there's more of them in there."

Avis glowered, eyes darting between yours when you reached for the door and pushed it open, motioning for her to go in. She stepped further into the room, and her breath seemed to catch, her gaze darting to every delicate detail you had so thoughtfully arranged.

Velvet-soft petals lay scattered like whispered promises across the floor and the vast expanse of the bed, their rich hues a striking contrast against the crisp linens. Candles adorned every surface, standing in elegant stillness, their wicks unlit yet their scent lingered in the air.

For a long moment, nothing was uttered by her. The soft click of the door closing behind her felt distant — her focus entirely enraptured by the romantic beauty laid out before her. Her breath slowed, her chest rising and falling in measured anticipation as her eyes traced the scattered petals, the curve of the bed, candles sparking to life as you moved around the room, lighting them each.

When she finally moved, it was hesitant, as though afraid to disturb something sacred. The pads of her fingers brushed along the edge of a petal on the bed, and it was soft, so soft, that it drew a tremble from her.

"You did all this for me?" There was wonder in her tone, but beneath it, something sounded a little fragile.

"Well, it wasn’t that much trouble," you started as you lit the final candle, words spewing out a tad bit faster than your thoughts could catch them. "The staff was kind enough to help — truly, they were wonderful. I just had the idea, but they made it happen, and—"

Her dark-aligned brown irises softened, and it was enough to make you string together the rest of your sentence. " I just wanted everything to be perfect for you."

The words disintegrated on your tongue when the soft click of her heels echoed through the space. She set her roses upon the table in front of the windows and then stood front of you. Her hands slid along your jaw, angling your face just enough for her lips to kiss yours.

She captured every ounce of breath from your lungs and caged them within her ribcage. Molding, desirous, loving. "What did I ever do to deserve you, sweetheart?"

The longer you gazed at her, the more you discerned just the way she adored you, the way she was still reconciling herself with being adored in return. How much she missed this type of love, just how much she needed you as you her. Yearning for her was an all-consuming feeling, your entire being craved her in any moment, that yearn amplified beyond reason when she looked at you like that, it surpassed understanding. "Simply exist."

She tried stifling her giggle, letting you pull her close and connected your lips, desire spilling out of you and into her, discarding her from clothing.

The gloves were the first to go — your fingers sliding them off one by one until bare skin burned against yours. Then your hands moved to the buttons of her coat and silk beneath, slipping them free slowly, savoring every inch of skin you uncovered. Avis mirrored you, her touch just as flaring, just as desperate, and soon you were both shedding the every top layer that kept you away from basking in one another's entire blaze.

Her heartbeat grew unrelenting when you made her sit at the hem of the bed, her body sizzled into your frame while tucked beneath her soft jaw was your head, the twines of your hair grazing her warm-toned flesh with every movement of you burrowing deeper into her neck. “You are breathtaking, Avis.”

Two of your fingers had been raised to trace down her spine, tips soon straying from its path to outline every exposed ridge and valley of her back, to follow every speck and slope. The lingers of your torturous ascent elicited a shiver from your lover, an elicit you hoped for.

"Hm, do that again." Her request did not surprise you. She reveled in your touch without a shame in her bones. Avis longed for your hands on her being and you could never deny her, so you of course obliged. That hum of approval from her she only ever gave to you, it was what you were after, it was what you basked in. To provide. To grant her what she deserved.

Your nose stroked down her clavicle, softly moving over the skin there while your digits stalked her side, sliding to the swell of her breasts, descending, sliding the stockings down the curve of her thighs, rolling them down. The slip followed soon after, leaving her in lace and warmth and the gentle flush spreading across her chest.

You created a seamless transition from tender graze to demanding massage between her legs. There was a moan, a low one, it expanded inside her with a plan to free itself. And it was the reaction you sought after, your intentions made known when you smiled against her.

“Y/N.” Her voice was of warning, one you did not pay regard to. “Don’t tease me.”

Your giggle reverberated through her and you tilted your head towards her, “I didn't do anything.”

She pulled you closer, lips becoming fervent, rougher. Her hips wounded into your touch and you could tell she was in need of direct contact. Your lips mapped along the lines of her neck, trailing open-mouth kisses along it.

Breathing you in was second nature. Three distinct scents intermingled on your person: the waft of your fragrance, the expensive one she bought for you because she knew it would pair perfectly with the second one, your natural essence. The last one, unyielding lust paired perfectly with the prominent aromas.

She loved them all, embracing it all as you slipped your fingers into her tailored skirt. “Lift your hips for me.” low, rough, a hushed command. Your voice dipped into that tone you knew unraveled her. Without hesitation, she obeyed — lifting off the bed and offered herself up to your hands. The skirt dragged down, fabric whispering against her skin as you bared more of her to your gaze, your fingers grazing every curve. Cool air struck her most delicate, making her gasp and quiver alike. “You’re a damn sight, Avis.”

Your warm remark tugged a bashful chuckle out of her, one that immediately morphed into a low moan when you stroked two fingers from her swollen nub to her awaiting hole.

Plummeting in and out of her at the most excruciatingly slow pace known to an aroused and desperate woman, known to mankind, taking time to bask in her oasis, to sweep and press along her walls with your wandering finger pads. Your strides elongated, digits slick as they shoved within her warm cunt.

Your way with her was both something that made her adoration grow for you, The way you took your time with her, always, always. The flat of your palm nudging her swollen clit with each thrust. Digits extending inside of her that made her crave more.

“Fuck…” You inhaled deeply, her rich fragrance whirling within your lungs, hoping to keep it there as your only source of oxygen, letting your tongue slowly lap down the length of her neck before allowing your teeth to so subtly sink into the junction there.

You were fond of leaving your mark upon the older woman; it drove you both mad, the idea that you could nip at her skin so lovingly, that you could trap the textured skin between your lips and leave feverish blemishes behind, blending with the boldness of petals beneath her. Scattered across the flesh of her neck, continuing its descent from her collarbone to bosom, and uniquely crafted by your mouth and no one else's. Body, existence tethered completely to you. “You're drenched, Avis.”

All she could manage to release was a honey dipped moan as she allowed her head to bow back when she hitched her hips into your hand, pace slowing down — fucking hell, how and why did you slow down even more? — until your thumb soothed over her eager clit, each caress more gratifying than the last. “Am I making you feel good?”

She nodded, breaking the potent eye contact to shut her eyes tight. She was heaving, so consumed by pleasure and completely overwhelmed by amber heated lust blown into shards, piercing, and wanting to deliciously seep into her every bone, every nerve. Something only you could ever conjure within her.

“No, uh uh, keep those eyes on me, hmm.” You hovered over her naked body, her chin gently clasped between your thumb and forefinger in order to lower her eyes, so brown and abyssal, towards yours. “There we go, Avis … just let me see those pretty eyes. Please, momma?”

Your digits were still carving deep into the soft velvet hush of her walls and when you spoke in an almost sweetly deriding manner, she released a sigh that prolonged into a whimper, right into your parted lips.

You were aware that she yearned for you to kiss her senselessly, she was feening for your tongue to be down her throat, but your mind had been fixated on another route. You kissed her, something more fleeting to describe it as a peck, and it made her huff, consumed by pleasure and completely overwhelmed by lust and exasperation. 

“Darling, I need more. Please, give momma more.” Her aerated speech met your grinning mouth. Your head shake created a spark of friction that she wished would flicker into a blaze and consume her to the core.

“I know, I know, love. I am going to give you more, just be a little more patient with me, okay?” Her palm clipped to your nape and yours once more found her soft soaked mound, pushing so deliciously. It had her hips rocking forward into a rhythm you so easily recognized and synchronize with.

Auburn locks were free from their habitual up-do, curling at the swell of her heaving chest, alluring, hypnotizing you closer and before you knew it, your lips and teeth collided there with her bare breast, suckling her so sweetly, so leisured it tormented her. With every carnal swirl and flattening of your tongue around her nipple, leaving oozes of thick spit behind before switching to the other.

Avis remained filled as you tore yourself away from her soaked front in order to slide down and between her legs, knees burying into the rich rugs beneath you, keeping her own apart while you watched her nectar spilling slowly from ripened blossoms, absorbed into the silk sheets beneath.

“Sweetheart, you’re killing me …. do something, for God’s sake, please!” A beseech assisted her words, unfurling her body in response, and you grinned at the sight.

She was never one to beg — always one to command, but somehow, it was you who had coaxed her to the edge, filling her to the brim with a yearning that stripped her of pride and left only need.

You allowed your middle finger to push through dampened folds, stopping at her clit, and proceeded at a torturous pace. You wanted to make her wait for it, push her even more to beg for it, the shadowed depth of your irises spoke enough.

Your hand emerged to your mouth, tasting her, your favorite flavor, dissolving and becoming one with your taste buds. You never hesitated to display just how much you relished it, and in other situations, she would have you utter to her just how much you liked momma’s taste.

Your gaze remained fixed on her, hot, unbreakable, and you slowly drew your finger out of your lips before sucking it back, each pull igniting the hunger already coiled tight within her.

You marveled at the way you had the ability to unravel someone such as Avis, at the way you left her drenched in desire, pure and lustrous, moaning into your mouth that she belonged to you, body and breath. It happened often, and each time, you still could not fully grasp the depth of your own power over her.

Your gazes locked, a silent rope yanking tight between you as she watched you lean down, blow a soft breath, and eat her out. The sight alone was a decadence, but the sensation, goodness, the sensation was something beyond earthly.

Your tongue lolled out, wide and flat, before your head moved forward and licked a bold stripe from above her spasming hole, slowly up to her nub, creating the motions in a relentless tempo, building, coaxing her toward that precipice with each stride and press. She was opening, trembling, clutching under the luxury of your mouth.

You added your digits once more into the mix, into the soaking heat of her, filling, stretching, curling just right. You hummed into her cunt, fingers accelerating, beckoning her orgasm forth. “You’re close, love? Gonna come around my fingers?”

Your words had opened the floodgates of ecstasy within her. You could feel her convulsing around your fingers. “I wanna make you happy.”

You added another one and she palmed at her tits as you pumped her. She breathed in deep, matching your rising chest. Your eyes carried something, it was hard to decipher at first, but when you spoke, her smeared mouth twitched in familiarity at your words.

Your mind… your mind had already drifted to the secret she kept, the one you had both indulged in before. The items she kept so discreetly tucked away — elegant, carefully hidden, but not unknown to you. Of course Avis Amberg, well connected and wealthy, had connections to such items.

Her lower lip curled its way between her teeth while the ends hoisted into a soft grin, “Yeah? What do you wanna do to make momma happy?”

“Avis…” you rasped, “I want to use one of your little secrets on you tonight.”

You did not miss the flicker of excitement that sparked in her eyes — lustful starvation and something even softer beneath it. “Which one?” she breathed out, hands running through your hair.

You grinned a bit, pace escalating, hardening between her thighs and you murmured against her stomach, “The one that lets me fuck you properly.”

The sound she made was somewhere between a gasp and a moan, her body already arching toward you and you seized that in uttering more words, suckling softly at the skin. “I want to fuck you, wanna make momma feel so good.”

“Hmm, yes, yes, shit, baby do whatever you want—” You felt it, the etchings of her awaiting orgasm. It was right there, so close she imagined tasting it. Yet it never came. You had committed your first act of cruelty of the night, the one she did not expect especially tonight; you had denied Avis Amberg her release.

Your fingers left her squirming hole and were brought up to her parted lips, stopping the spills of retorts and moans. “Not yet.”

Frustration colored her features, but she eased when you pecked her lips, once, twice, and retracted. You retrieved the toy from her dresser; the contents were just as you remembered: delicate silk ties, polished glass, smooth shapes made of fine materials, and your fingers brushed over it — dark, sleek.

She could not help the breathless laugh leaving her at your anticipation, biting her lip before muttering a soft, “Come here.”

You stood before her, and she scooted at the edge of the bed, her hands hot and sure as they slid along your waist. She helped you, steady and practiced, the leather straps sliding around your hips, fingers adjusting the buckles, brushing against your skin teasingly as she worked.

When it was finally in place, her hands remained at the front of your abdomen, and her chin tipped up to look at you, dark lashes fluttering. “You wear it well, darling.”

Your kiss deepened, murmuring against her mouth, "Lay back for me."

You reached your hand between both your bodies, gripping the lathered dildo, and positioned it at her sopping entrance as she sprawled herself open with two fingers. One more glance and her eyes spoke more than enough. "I'm ready for you."

You obliged, and the feeling of you entering her was overwhelming, the stretch burning only slightly. You moved in gently until the entire length of the strap pushed inside her wanting hole.

“Oh fuck!” The cry jumped from her throat to your ears. It was enough to ignite the flame within you, one that blazed brightly. Your thrusts angled as her breathing picked up. Digits flexed around her hips, pushing into the impressionable sensitive flesh with your thumbs as you fucked into her in a measured pace.

Wet lips caught hers for a passion-filled kiss and both of her legs hooked around your hips. “How does that feel?”

All she could manage were incoherent slurred babbles. Carmine nails chafed your back, pulling you closer than humanly possible, and her stiff peaks penetrated into your breasts. Wielding power to make Avis feel every single divot as you fucked her amplified your own lusty desires.

“I need you to speak when you are spoken to. Can you do that for me?”

You did not believe it possible that Avis could get any wetter, but my, she was full of surprises. Her juices lubricated your drilling, making your job easier as you pulled back completely before shoving back in.

“Y-yes, yes — I-it's perfect, you're making momma feel so good.” You smiled then at how her face crumbled, your pounding lessening its pace, however you did not lose its hard impact. "B-baby, go faster, please—"

“Not yet, love. I want you to feel everything I'm giving you.” You continued your slow, languid jolts, and she wanted to wail. The deeper you plummeted, the higher she unraveled — each nudging stroke drawing her closer to that edge, closer to the place where she felt most at home. She belonged here, beneath you, cradled in your arms, her body yielding so perfectly to yours.

“You know why I'm doing this? Hmm?” You burrowed your face into her perspired neck, gnawing the spot lightly, tongue slowly gathering every individual droplet that it made her moan straight into your ear.

The action steadied you somehow, allowing you to dive the dildo in further, to hit her bundle of nerves deep within. This angle was new, but held the same severity.

"Because you deserve it, Avis," You pulled out, filling her up once more without warning. "You deserve all good things. You're so fucking perfect for me. You know that, right?"

The tip of her nose brushed the side of yours as she nodded, but that did not satisfy you. "Words, momma. I need to hear you."

How good you were to her. How she wallowed in that dominating side you had, besides always wanting to take care of her with your affections. Avis would never tire of it. "I-know that, y/n, I'm perfect for you—"

"That's right, yes you are—" You grunted at her words, rocking in and out of her cunt and finally speeding up. Every jerk of your hips drew her orgasm near and she latched on to that feeling, that ceaseless yank.

"You're gonna come, love?" Lips wrapped around her nipple, nipping at it.

Fingernails practically sliced the skin at your shoulder blades. The jolting pain caused you to hiss, combining with the lustrous joy you were experiencing. “Yes! Make me come, baby, I need it—”

An ocean of thoughts swam through your hazed mind, not a single one of them a coherent one. There was never a moment when you did not believe Avis Amberg was stunning, a single glance at her and you were ruined and drenched, but fuck, when she came? All kinds of things it did to you, bringing forth moans from your throat. 

Her moan was boisterous, booming, certain to startle those outside of these four walls, the entire household even. It made you come seconds after her, your forehead collapsing to her swaying breasts.

You gently pulled out of her and heard her shudder out a soft moan, immediately missing the feeling of being filled. Soft kisses were nuzzled between her breasts, gently moving aside her disheveled curls to ascend your kisses over her collarbones and shoulders as you soothed her.

“I know, love, I know.”

Words were caught in her throat, vision yet to return to its normalcy. "B-baby, I-I-"

You only shook your head and sweetly kneaded her hips. " 'T's okay. Would you like a massage? Does that sound good to you, Avis?"

Her head fell back against the cushion, still catching her breath. Her hand lifted in the air before giving you a loose flick of her wrist that indicated a 'yes'.

You chuckled and leaned down, placing a kiss on her cheek, then her mouth. "I adore you."

Avis huffed out a chuckle and watched as you got up. "And I love you, sweetheart. Thank you ... for taking care of me."

You settled back onto the bed with her preferred soothing oils, and you simpered at her soft expressions. "oh, just wait till you see how I take care of you even more later."

She hummed at the feel of your lips latching on her neck, already anticipating for that later to inch closer. "Momma."

"How does it feel having me deep inside you, hm?" It was a rhetorical statement this time — Avis could not form a response, not with the way you had her positioned, in her request. Arms were stretched out against the mattress, hands rumpling the sheets, the side of her face embedded in the pillows tucked beneath, the soft material smudging the remains of makeup.

Yet you enjoyed hearing Avis struggle as your strap tunneled into her cunt from behind, so you queried her again, a tinge of firmness. “You didn't hear me, momma?”

Avis gasped something out of place and you chuckled before dragging the girth's expanse back into her in rapid strokes. The third orgasm of the night was reaching its peak, and you made sure it dragged out as long as it could the last round. This time, you decided to be fair, fingers snaking their way from her hip down to her clit and rubbed generously.

"it feels great — Fuck! O-oh, keep going! c-close—"

"We're almost there, momma. Almost there. Fuck, just look at how well you take my cock." Her depths enveloped you so perfectly, gushing, gliding, squelching louder at your salacious speech.

Your spine curved, breasts pushed against her upper back and your arm looped around her middle to hoist her up a bit. Just sufficient enough for your lips could soothe the flushed shell of her bejeweled ear. "Come on, give it to me."

Her fingernails dug into the sheets at this angle, cheek mushed against plushness, and Avis was unraveling with you inside her, knocking with full force against the spot that spiraled her.

You kissed the slope of her shoulders, lips tracing over each freckle stroked by time and crease carved within her flesh. She gasped, threading through each individual letter of your name, and she sank into the mattress. Your touch followed, avid fingers squeezing over the swell of her ass, crest of her hips, tremble of her thighs, soft slope of her stomach, hushed praises sinking into her bones.

Panting, she tipped her head back, gaze slipping over her shoulder, half-lidded. As you pried out of her fluttering hole, kisses still being delivered upon her skin, her hand reached back to tug on your hair in hopes to get your attention. "Darling."

Your smile was second nature when you stared into those whiskey irises, knowing exactly what she wanted. Your neck bent, lips coming down to meet hers sweetly, considerately. The kiss was lingering, exactly what she anticipated as she spoke an 'I love you'. The gentleness of it, the affection that powered it.

You pressed one more kiss to her smiling mouth, you knew there was nothing you would not give her, no part of yourself you would not offer. Because Avis Amberg deserved this, all of it. The softness, the fervency, the love. And you would spend every moment you had making sure she never forgot it.

[tamishtammy]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

[madamechrissy]

$ Sugar Daddy! Gojo $

$ NSFW- Sugar Daddy Gojo x Sugar Baby reader $

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who loves to pay for your nails just to see how pretty they look when they're wrapped around his cock later that night. He especially loves to babble as you're sucking him so sloppy. Stroking his thick length up and down. 'F-fuck baby.... right there, look at you, can you take more?"

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who offers to up your daily allowance to three thousand if you can take his cock all the way down your throat. As you look up at him, manicured nails trailing up his thighs, tears in your eyes, you let his cock stretch your throat, until your nose is against the white hair on his pelvis. He offers to up it more if he can bust down your throat like this, you swallow him right up.

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who loves taking you shopping for dresses, urging you to try on more and more. He also loves to tip the girls who work there, to ignore the fact that he's in that dressing room, fingering your slick little cunt in each dress. 'T-Toru!" You cry out, as you hear your squelching wetness in that dressing room, his blue eyes glint as he smirks, shoving his two fingers deep, making you cum all over them. 'Try on another, baby' he says, pulling them out and sucking on them.

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who loves to have you ride him in the back of his limo, he lets you take the limo anywhere you want. Now he's got you straddling him, riding his cock, your tits bouncing in the brand new lacy bra he bought you. He laps at your nipples over the lace with his hot, wet mouth, grabbing your hips with his big hands and shoving his cock deep. His leaky tip is grinding on your cervix, you're soaking his Armani slacks as you cum all over him, only for him to order- 'clean this up baby' and have you lick both of you off him.

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who buys you so many panties there's a dresser of them, only for him to take each pair every time. He loves to put them to his face later, inhaling you when he has to work, jerking his cock to the pictures and videos all over his phone of you. He particularly loves the one you took for him where his cum is pouring out of your pussy, ass in the air, covered in his hand prints, and there's money all over the bed around you.

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who you don't even want all this from, all you want is him, but you let him do it because he enjoys it. Gojo takes you to every fancy restaurant you can imagine, feeding you decadent deserts and buying insanely expensive bottles of bubbly, only for him to finger you while you're eating, betting you money you can't hold in your moans. and when you fail at that, he's fucking you right in the bathroom of each one, as you look in the mirror and see your fucked out expression, dressed in an expensive Givenchy dress that he yanks on to pull your tits out and watch them bounce.

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who loves to bring you to work, Satoru is flicking his tongue on your clit while you're on his CEO meeting table, in a room full of fucking glass where anyone can see, all you care about is gripping that silky white hair, shoving his tongue further inside your velvety walls. He leans up, smirking, covered in your slick and says 'taste like a million fuckin dollars, baby' and you whine out 'please, let me cum, Toru...' 'Anything for my baby'

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who has you cumming all over his mouth now, your head is slamming back, thighs shaking around his head, his tongue is stupidly talented, especially when he's fingering you with those long fingers, moaning on your clit. 'Toru! love... love you, f-fuck...' you whine out, only for him to unlatch himself from you clit, picking you up and shoving his cock inside you, lifting you like you're nothing, carrying you over to that twenty story view and fucking you on the window.

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who whispers - 'you know what to call me' and you cry out 'Daddy!' he responds by wrecking your cervix, his thumb circling your clit as he fucks into you. 'Good girl, gonna get you fuckin pregnant, baby, you'll stay mine' which may be concerning to someone else, but you want his cum inside you, want to have his baby, so you just whine out 'please!' begging until he fills your greedy pussy with all his cum, dripping down with your arousal, only for him to shove the cum back in your pussy saying 'don't waste all this now, sweetheart'

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who constantly is buying you jewelry but especially diamonds, diamond necklaces, that are the only thing he'll let you keep on when he fucks you, watching how the necklaces fall between your pretty breasts. He fucks you so good tears fall, he loves to whisper 'you cryin baby' only for you to weakly nod. He also loves especially that diamond tiara he bought you, when you're crying while choking on his cock, and he can stroke your hair and call you 'princess'

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who pays all your bills in your fancy loft, the only agreement is he can come fuck you any time he wants, even when you're asleep, but you always want him, so you make sure to leave everything unlocked and wear no panties. Tonight you wake up clenching around two fingers, whining out as he's already brought you near climax, wet tongue lapping at your clit, hands gripping your waist as your nails are gripping his strong shoulders, he drinks you up before sliding next to you, pulling you against his hard body.

Sugar Daddy! Gojo who offers you a thousand if you brush his hair good enough you make him go to sleep, and you just giggle and shake your head. 'I want you to stay every night, even if you were broke, silly Toru' 'broke, yuck that's disgusting, I'll throw bands on you tomorrow' you snort and roll your eyes, holding his head in your lap and looking at his pretty face as he falls asleep, whispering 'night Daddy' and earning his full lips smiling.

This was a request for Sugar Daddy Gojo! <3 Hope you enjoyedd

[reignpage]

Vice President!Sukuna

Pétain: losing it all pt 1

Word count: 4.4k Contents: 18+ mdni, cursing, smut, reading this is not compulsory, part 2 will explain The Night, so please read the warnings before reading, I will seriously block minors and ageless blogs Warnings: noncon, cnc, dub-con, primal play, threat of violence and act of violence, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, exhibitionism, slight blood play After much deliberation, I've decided to add noncon in the warnings, again proceed with caution

“Is that the Vice President?” Someone whispers. 

Another girl whispers back, “No, he’s the President now.”

You ignore everyone and continue your way to the field, carrying two buckets of soil, ready to plant the seeds in your pocket. Being a member of the Green Thumb Society meant being at one with nature, giving back to the Earth so that we can maintain an equilibrium, ensuring that the future generations will have something to inherit. 

Or whatever. 

Truthfully, you haven’t been listening, simply itching to get your hands dirty so you can distract your mind. Not being the president means having lots of free time, but not having any friends means you don’t have anything to do in those times. At first, you were overjoyed because then you can focus on the mountain of work you have, however, once you sat yourself down to finish up all the readings and applications you had, you realised you didn’t actually have that much work to begin with. 

So now, you’re digging in the dirt, right at the edge of the forest at the back of the Lawn, pretending you can’t feel searing eyes on your back. The ground is hard, and you’re not even sure this is the right season to start planting anything, but what do you know?

Because it’s almost winter, the sky is darkening much faster than anyone would like, and you’re starting to feel more and more anxious as the clouds turn orange in the horizon. Coupled with the fact that you can feel a presence looming behind you, making the hairs on your arms stand, your fight or flight has been activated. 

“We need to talk.”

“No,” you say without missing a beat. 

A hand comes out and grabs the back of your sweater, hauling you up, shovel falling to the ground. You’re being spun around to face a frustratingly handsome face and he’s giving you a deadpan look, unimpressed by your stubbornness. Standing on your tiptoes, you have to cling onto his jacket to keep steady. 

“I wasn’t asking, prez,” he drawls. 

Scowling, you smack his chest once and then again when he didn’t even flinch. “That’s the problem; you never ask.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, arm dropping so you can stand on your own, but he doesn’t let go. Probably thinks you’ll run again. Though, you’re not sure why he thinks you would; you’re not drunk. And you certainly don’t want a repeat of last time, people still come up to you to recite your speech. 

“Let’s get outta here,” he pulls you with him. 

You dig your heels onto the ground, slapping his arm to let you go. There’s no way in hell you’re going anywhere with him, being alone with Sukuna doesn’t work out well for you, it only forces you deeper and deeper into a hole you don’t want to be in and have been trying to get out for years now. Plus, you’d hate to give him the satisfaction. 

“Stop being a pain in the ass,” he growls, dragging you with him regardless. Your futile attempts at escape are only irritating him more. “You’re gonna talk whether you like it or not.”

People are staring and you’re gritting your teeth, the embarrassment making your face heat up and you pull away harder.  “Sukuna, stop, people are gonna talk.”

He gives you a look that screams, who the fuck cares.

“No, stop it, I’m serious,” people are whispering and pointing. “Please, Sukuna.”

Halting suddenly, your face hits his back. His back hurts, Jesus. 

One glance at you makes him roll his eyes and then he’s dragging you the opposite direction, into the forest. It’s darkening and the thick lines of trees makes your heartbeat faster and, once again, you’re trying to wrangle yourself out of his grip. This is the kind of place young girls go to die. 

“Not there, either!”

“Shut the fuck up,” he hisses. 

Eventually, the Green Thumbers disappear from you and all you can see for miles are trees. And a pissed off pink-haired, varsity jacket wearing pain in the ass, tapping his foot on the mud. You simply cannot catch a fucking break. Because apparently you committed some atrocities in your past life and now you must be punished. Again, and again and again. 

“Talk me through what the fuck is happening. Why did you let that old fucker push you out of your position and why the fuck aren't you fighting to get it back?”

You lean against a tree, the bark scratching you even through your sweater. Guess this is happening. With a sigh, you explain, “There wasn’t anything I could have done, Sukuna. He said, I was giving the school a bad rep. That the trustees don’t think I’ve been a doing a good enough job, what with Cursed Womb still running amok, the gossip column spreading the students’, and the staff’s, dirty secrets across campus and even across the city. Not to mention all those times I’ve been late to meetings, files going missing, and presentations being inaccurate. Thank to you.”

Sukuna huffs, leaning against a tree too, hands stuffed into his pocket. At first glance, he doesn’t even look like he’s listening to a thing you’re saying, but you know him better than that, unfortunately. Because when he flexes his jaw, you know he’s annoyed. 

“Alright, my bad.”

Your eye twitches. “Your bad? Your bad? Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shrugs, “Yeah.”

You walk away. 

With no idea where to go, you’re just marching away, kicking away leaves and pushing branches away from your face. Muttering curses under your breath, you grow weary of the darkening of the night, you start to regret letting him drag you away at all. Why do you always get swept up in his bullshit?

When you almost trip over a log, you screech. The ground nears but just as you’re about to fall, you’re being yanked back into a hard chest. 

“Watch where you’re fucking going,” he growls. 

“Why are you such a fucking prick?” You scream. “You’re everywhere. Seriously! Fuck off! Why do you want to ruin my life? It isn’t enough that you forced me out of the position so you can have it for yourself, but now you want to make me miserable by not letting me do anything fun?”

Your hands are flying, half waving in the air and half smacking into him, hitting whatever you can reach and you’re stomping your feet. This is all ridiculous — he hated you, and then he has these stupid, ridiculous moments where he makes your heart clench, where he looks at you like you’re somebody, like you’re special, and it always left you reeling, unable to sleep at night. 

“Calm the fuck down!” He yells back. “You’re fucking crazy.”

“CRAZY! I’m acting crazy. Ohhhhh, you’re such a fucking dick. I hate you I hate you I hate you!”

He’s grabbing your wrists, trying to restrain you so you’d shut up, but you’re done being silenced. Done with his horrible attitude and personality and his stupid face. Everything went to shit because of him, he ruined your first year, and now he’s ruined your third year, but apparently that isn’t enough because he’s trying to ruin every day of the rest of your life. 

Sukuna’s trying to get a word in, but you’re rambling, screeching and hollering about anything and everything, somethings he’s willing to admit was his fault, but other things were just plain ridiculous. 

“I dropped my bagel this morning and it was because of you! I can’t prove it but I know you had something to do with it. Your stupid malevolent energy reached me from whatever depths of hell you crawled out of, and you ruined my breakfast! That cost me £7! £7, Sukuna!”

“Shut the fuck up for just a second, y/n.”

“A-and when I slipped in the shower, I’m sure your evil spirit pushed me— “

“How could that possibly— “

“And now I have a bruise!”

“Have been my fault?”

SMACK!

In the midst of complaining and rambling, your arm had flung over, and your hand slipped. Right onto his cheek.

You slapped Sukuna. 

And the clenching of his fists, his heavy breaths, tensing shoulders, and flexing of his jaw all scream you’ve fucked up. You’re inching away, hands coming in between you two, shielding yourself from him. The burning of your hand is urging you back and back, eyes firmly fixed on the raging bull in your china shop. 

Oh shit. 

In all the two years and a bit you’ve known Sukuna, have kept an eye out for him, you’ve never seen him look this angry. And though you once thought he’d never raise a hand against a woman, against you, you’re suddenly very very unsure. 

His red eyes raise to meet yours and the tick at the corner of his mouth makes your heart drop. He says one word. And you turn away, silent screams escaping you. 

“Run.”

Your legs pump, frigid air biting cheeks, stabbing every exposed inch of skin as you disappeared further and further into a forest, weaving around thick trees and hurdling over logs and rocks. You’re practically galloping, pushing your body to its limits as you twist and turn, shuddering breath misting in front of you as your heart skips a beat.

If he catches you, you’re dead.

“Fuck!” You cry out. Sprinting, you ignore the growing ache in your legs and the pain in your ankles; you’ve never run like this before. Although, to be fair, you’ve never been chased by a livid Ryomen. Not sure anyone has ever lived to tell the tale. 

Leaves crunch under your shoes as you pushed through, unsure of where to go, where is safe. He's stronger, bigger and faster than you. You both know it. There isn't anywhere you could go where he wouldn't find you. It's as if you've entered a labyrinth of shadows, your vision obscured by the thickening blanket of night and every snap of a twig all around you threaten to make tears spill.

"Oh, prez, where are you?" His voice has taken a mocking, singsong tone, and it's scariest thing you've ever heard. It sends shivers down your spine, a promise of the damage that he could do, that despite the saccharine sweet words, he is nothing but nice. You fight the urge to scream.

"Leave me alone!"

Foot catching on something, you tumbled forward, palms reaching out and scraping against the rough earth. The sharp sting barely registered through the adrenaline coursing through your veins but you know it'll leaves marks. You scrambled to your feet, dirt sticking to your clothes, a sob catching in your throat, your eyes darting around the endless sea of trees.

"You know I can't do that."

"Why?" You yell back.

When you whirl your head back, scanning the area for any sign of pink hair or a purple jacket, you find nothing but shadows shaped like trees, their silhouette sharp and bony. You’re panting, chest heaving as you try to gulp air desperately.The trees look like his allies, obscuring him from your view, harbouring a criminal.

His voice is a low breeze and you can't pinpoint where it's coming from when he laughs sardonically, "You already know why, prez."

He could be anywhere, and you’re pressing yourself against a tree, nails digging into the bark as you looked around frantically. It’s dark. The only source of light being the moon and when you fumble for your phone in your jean pocket, you can’t find it. You must have dropped it. 

“This isn’t fair!”

You’re sobbing, tearing out your hair. Seconds pass. Maybe even minutes and there aren't any signs of Sukuna, of anyone being here apart from you. He could have left already. You laugh hysterically.

“I did everything right! I worked hard, I never complained, never broke a rule. Why am I being punished?” You punch the tree and cry even harder when it hurt. Your fist throbs. “OW! Fuck! What did I do that was so fucking wrong?”

There were rumours once of a girl who had died in the woods, right at the very centre of the forest. She had a fight with her boyfriend about something or the other, and they fought here, all night. But when morning came, only one emerged. No one could verify this gossip, no news article, nothing concrete, but the students who passed through Eden spoke of it as if it was as true as the sun is blinding. You're trying to wrack your brain for any more information, your brain desperate to distract you from the mania creeping through veins.

She was a law student.

"I don't want to die," you cry. "I've barely lived. I still haven't gone skydiving, haven't driven on the motorway 'cause that shit's fucking scary. A-and I need to say 'I love you' to my mother, and well fuck my father. But I want to say goodbye to Mr. Teddy and Mrs. Kitty Cat. They'll be so fucking sad."

“Talking to yourself, prez?”

You scream.

Sukuna’s leaning against a tree a couple metre behind you. You hadn’t heard him. Not even a snap of a branch or the rustling of leaves. He has his jacket off and thrown over his shoulder, his shirt riding up as he brushes his hair back, a seething sneer on his face. 

When he makes a step forward, you stumble back, another scream lodged in your throat. “Stay back! I swear, don’t come near me.”

A sharp smile climbs up his face, a glint in his eyes, and his jacket is being dragged behind him as he stalks over to you, completely disregarding your warning, his long legs taking him closer. You have goosebumps on your arms and you’re so close to pissing yourself. 

“So you can use a little violence, but I can’t?” He cocks his head at you. “That’s not very fair, is it, my adorable little president?”

“I’m not yours!”

That was apparently the wrong thing to say because the next thing you know you’re being pinned to the forest floor. You fall with a thump, screech muted by a hand over your mouth. His hip is between your legs, thighs spread and stretching to accommodate his body which holds you down, unable to wiggle or crawl away. Your hands claw at the leaves and mud, dirt caking your nails, and you’re trying to ignore the smirk on his face. 

Tutting, he snapped, "This has been a long time coming, prezzy."

He looks murderous. Like a serial killer who’s just found the perfect next victim. And before you can complain, his mouth is crashing down on yours. It’s a clash of teeth, his tongue penetrating your mouth when you gasp, fighting yours as you push at his shoulders, bucking your hips to throw him off. 

When your clothed core grinds against his hard length, you moan. “Let me go!”

Sukuna nips your bottom lip, the taste of iron filling your mouth and you’re lightheaded. With a growl, he promises, “Never.”

Bare hands clutching your sweater, he rips it off you, the fabric snapping and disappearing over his shoulder. The cool air pricks your skin, pebbling your nipples and he’s covering your tits with his huge hands, groping and kneading like they’re his worst enemies. 

“No bra, prez?” He snarls into your ear before licking a strip up your neck. “You’re just walking temptation, aren’t you?”

His hips are grinding on yours, a punishing pace that sets your skin ablaze and you’re gasping with every roll of your nipples between his fingers and whimpering when he pinches and pulls. Like you’re being controlled by someone else, you grind back, legs crossing over his legs.

“Let me go!” You cry out again. “Stop it, Sukuna!”

He bites your neck, and you arch into him, eyes rolling to the back of your head. When you pull at his hair, he only huffs a laugh before he’s creeping a hand into your jeans, somehow having unbuttoned and unzipped it. His fingers press against your panties, and you hide your face into his neck, nipping him back. 

“You tell me to stop but you’re soaked,” he laughs. 

His hand weaves inside your panties, rubbing your clit at a merciless pace; hard and fast from the get-go, your eyes are shutting, and you cry out when he dips inside, soaking himself with your wetness. He curls them, prodding and pummelling that spot inside of you that has you digging your nails into his back, threatening to rip up his shirt. 

With a broken moan, you smack his back, “No more!”

“More? This not enough for you,” his voice is mocking. “Don’t wanna cum from my fingers, is that it, you frustratingly beautiful piece of work?”

Before you could argue back, could push him away, or kick your legs, he’s pulling your jeans halfway off, and then he’s spinning you around, face down and ass up. The cold air brushes against your sloppy pussy, clit swollen from having been rubbed and petted by his hostile hand, longer fingers stretching you out.

And then something equally hot and wet touches your slit. He's lapping up your wetness, fingers still curled inside of you as he rubs your walls whilst he sucks at your clit. You're moaning, fingers digging into the dirt as you try to crawl away, but his spare hand is holding you down, forcing you to arch more painfully so he can suck and lick to his heart's content. He scissors his long fingers, forcing you to stretch.

"Stop! Stop it!" You sob. He isn't listening, he's taking what he wants from you, extracting a strained orgasm that makes you tear up, pussy clenching around his fingers. "No! No, I don't want this!"

"I don't care," is all he says. Through the fog of pain and pleasure, you hear a ziiiip, and you’re panicking, hands clawing even more. You have to get out of here, have to escape. If anyone's emerging, it's you. It has to be you.

But when he lines his cock up, you realise your face isn’t buried in leaves and mud, but rather something soft. It’s his jacket. He slams inside you in one thrust. 

“FUCK!”

He’s thrusting inside, hard, and with a bruising grip on your hips, simultaneously keeping you still so he can drill his fat cock inside your clenching pussy and pulling you to meet his hips. The forest is quiet, apart from the choked moans and groans coming from you, and the sound of skin slapping against each other. 

“Been keeping this tight pussy from me?” He thrusts harder, cock head rubbing against that spot inside you and it steals your breath. “Fucking selfish!”

You’re trying to argue back but it all just comes out garbled, drool pooling under your chin. There’s nothing you can do but maul his hands, trying to pry them off you. He doesn’t let up, only thrusts harder, like he’s punishing you for all his frustrations. 

“I hate you!” You manage to push out. 

Sukuna leans forward, heavy body pinning you to the floor even more so he can nip your ear, licking away the blood and growling at the taste. “You may hate me, but this cunt doesn’t.”

And to prove his point, he shuts up, grinding inside of you so you can hear the squelching of your pussy and the way it’s squeezing him for more, desperate to milk him so it can be coated in his cum. You twist, hand pushing against his chest whilst you cry, tears streaming down your face from the sheer stretch. 

“Tell me what happened. Tell me what I did,” he orders.

You shake your head, groaning with every thrust, and when he rubs your clit with one hand, whilst the other gropes your bare tit, you can only cry out louder. “You ruined everything! Ngh! I had it all and you -ha- took it from me.”

Clinking of metal and rustling of paper catches your eye. He’s dropped money on the floor. Sukuna’s emptied his wallet in front of you, even his cards fall out, including a shiny black one. They all clink and clatter right by your head.

“Take it all as compensation for your fucking bagel, you damn brat.”

“I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT THE BAGEL,” you screech.

His hips don’t stutter, not even for a second, insistent on plunging his cock again and again so your pussy will never forget the shape of it. You can feel him in your stomach, can feel every ridge, every vein, and you think you might just pass out from the stretch.

Years of pressure, of tension, of hatred, of bitterness and resentment build up inside of you, tearing you apart. You think about the tears, the nightmares, the loneliness in your first year. The numbness in your second and the anger, the pain, the pleasure in your third. 

“Keep crying, baby. Only —ha— makes me want to fuck you harder till you can’t cry anymore.”

It’s a tsunami approaching land, you can feel the painful orgasm creeping up, threatening to drown you. And when his left hand falls beside your head, steadying himself so he can angle his cock deeper, kissing your cervix with every thrust now, you see something that looks so familiar you missed it every time you saw it on his wrist. 

He’s wearing your hair tie. 

You cum all over him, drenching his abs with your wetness, and you’re tensing up, still being used as practically a sex doll, all limp and pliant for his pleasure. It’s the kind of pleasure you’ve never had before, the one you’ve chased with boys who didn’t know what they were doing, couldn’t tell your thigh from your clit, and have only ever left you unsatisfied and full of regret. 

“Fuck! S’kuna!” 

“That’s right, prez, cum all over my cock. Take what you want, baby.” He soothes your ass, watching the way it’s bouncing on his length to elongate your high, before he meets you in the middle. 

And with one last moan, you fall, your ass kept up high by his hands only. Then, he cums with a growl, right in your ear, the vibrations piercing your body and lighting your soul with a warmth you can’t bear to think about. 

“So fucking good,” he snarls. “Perfect. Fucking made just for me, yeah?”

He wasn't talking to you, was only groaning to himself, but you mutter agreements, everything you can to make him spurt out all of his hatred for you. And he does. You feel it spilling out.

When you both calm down, lying on the ground — you on his jacket and him on the floor — you feel something has changed between you. An acceptance of whatever the fuck is wrong with both of you. Of that strange, fucked up string connecting you both. You won’t fight it anymore. 

Can’t fight it anymore. 

You're a mess. Tears and drool drying on your face, your juice and his cum coating your inner thighs, dirt and blood caking your body. You've never felt more cleansed.

Feeling an urge to cry but having used up all your tears, you scoot over to him, lying on his chest and his arms wrap around you like it’s second nature, a hand rubbing your back whilst the other threads through your hair, pulling out leaves from the tangles. 

“I’m bored,” you admit, tracing abstract patters on his chest. His shirt is sticking to him, slightly damp from the exertion. You’re completely naked, jeans discarded somewhere. There should be a fear of being caught, of being seen in such a vulnerable position, but for some reason you don’t care. Maybe it’s because you know Sukuna wouldn’t let that happen. Or maybe he would, and you just don’t care anymore. 

He sighs. “I know.”

“I really liked being the president,” you mumble. 

“I know.”

“But the Dean ruined everything. No, Mahito did. No, you did.”

He sighs again. “I know. I’ll fix it.”

You raise your head, chin resting on your hand as you look up at him. “How are you gonna do that?”

Brushing errant hairs from your face, he promises, “EdenU relies heavily on funding from my family. I’ll force the Dean’s hand, make him reinstate you.”

Unable to resist the urge, you bite his chin, feeling an aggressive desire to make him hurt. He smacks your ass in retaliation.

“But what about you? Didn’t you want to be president? Isn’t that what this whole thing’s even about?” It’s odd to be so casual, so conversational after that mind-numbing sex and the fact that there’s so much to be said, to be discussed between you two, but that’s just how it is with you and him. You aren’t normal. And certainly, aren’t healthy. 

“Nah,” he scoffs, “been president for like a week and that shit was tiring. Dunno how you did it.”

You giggle. “It’s not for the weak, that’s for sure.”

Sukuna slaps your ass for his own pleasure, a grin growing on his face. matching yours. But then it drops as he looks over your face, like he’s just remembered what the whole thing’s been about. Your smile drops too.

“Do we have to?” You ask, but the grim look on his face is all the answer you need. 

He cradles your cheek in one hand, uncharacteristically soft, and then he pecks your lips, once, twice. “Tell me what I did to you. Tell me what I put you through.”

You try to pull away but he’s holding you tighter. Your lip trembles and with a hiccup, you hiss, “What does it matter? Will you even apologise?”

“Yes,” he insists. “I’ll do it. For you. I’ll do it now.”

Sitting up, you try to find your clothes, fumbling in the dark. You find your panties and jeans, miraculously, and put them on. Unfortunately, your sweater is ripped up, but he drapes his jacket on you, and you both know it’ll stay with you from now on, like he had always intended. 

“If I tell you, we’ll have to start over again.”

His mouth is teasing and tasting wherever it can reach, exploring your neck, brushing your cheek and your hair, as if he’s promising your body his sincerity when he says, “Whatever it takes, I’ll win you back. Even if it takes forever.”

You’re willing to test that out. 

So, leaning back on his chest, you recount the night you set out to lose one thing and ended up losing everything.

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hay sorry to bother you but could you please do another Gotham batfam and villains with a very powerful magical girl reader that is also shy and meek with OP power please

MOON PRISM POWER!

(romantic) yandere batfam x magical girl! reader

You never wanted this power. Nor the responsibility. Nor the the fame that came with

Unfortunately for you, the universe could be cruel at times.

It chose you—not out of kindness or fairness, but necessity. You were the only one who could bear the weight of its hopes and fears, the only one with a soul strong enough to wield such immense, unforgiving strength.

And now, as the stars burn brighter than ever before, as the shadows loom larger and darker, the choice has already been made.

You can run from it. Deny it. Curse the heavens for their indifference. But the power will remain, waiting for you to decide.

All it took was one night for the weight of it all to show

All it took was one night for the weight of it all to show. The burden you had ignored, the cracks you’d tried so desperately to hide—it all came crashing down like a tide you couldn’t hold back.

The first sign was the silence. Not the comforting kind, but a suffocating quiet that pressed against your chest, heavy and unrelenting. Then came the visions: fractured moments of a future you couldn’t understand but were certain you were meant to prevent.

And finally, the pain. Not physical, but deeper—an ache in your very soul, as if the universe itself was forcing you to feel its despair.

You tried to hold it together. Tried to tell yourself that it wasn’t your fight, that someone else—anyone else—could do it. But the truth is, no one else can.

The stars are watching. The shadows are stirring. And you… you’re caught in the center, whether you’re ready or not.

In any case! To the headcannons!

As a native Gothamite, you hated the fact that you got these flashy powers that stuck out like the sorest of thumbs amongst the dark knights and decrepit villains.

You’ve always wanted to blend in with your folks. To be a drop in the ocean. You were satisfied with that life but the ocean had other plans. It dragged you to its depths, revealing secrets you never asked for, truths you weren’t ready to face. You weren’t just a drop—you were the storm waiting to rise, the current that could change everything.

You fought against it, clinging to the life you knew. The quiet mornings. The laughter of your neighbors. The simple, mundane moments that once felt like all you’d ever need. But something inside you stirred, restless and relentless.

It whispered in your mind when you tried to sleep, tugged at your heart when you tried to forget. A pull toward something greater. Something terrifying.

You could pretend all you wanted, but deep down, you knew the truth: the life you wanted was already gone. And the one ahead? It was bigger, darker, and far more dangerous than you could ever imagine.

Damian Wayne, blood son and so called demonspawn, your opposite in all senses of the term was the first to fall into the depths of infatuation.

It wasn’t immediate, nor was it graceful. For someone raised in the shadow of assassins and forged in the fires of discipline, emotions like these were alien, unwelcome intrusions on a meticulously crafted persona. But you? You were chaos to his control, warmth to his cold calculation, and it unnerved him in ways even the deadliest adversaries couldn’t.

He hated it at first—the way his thoughts lingered on you, the way his pulse quickened when you spoke. He told himself it was a weakness, one he would crush the moment it surfaced. But no matter how hard he tried, the feelings only grew, taking root in the cracks of his ironclad walls.

Damian was no stranger to obsession, but this was different. You weren’t a target to conquer or a problem to solve. You were… light. Maddening, blinding, and completely beyond his control.

And for the first time in his life, he let himself fall. Not gracefully, not without resistance, but with the same intensity he brought to everything else—because Damian Wayne doesn’t do anything halfway.

Dick Grayson and Timothy Drake were next, both eager to find out the truth behind your identity and even more to be at your side. To bask in the light of your suffering so that they may ease their own.

For Dick, it was instinctual. He had always been drawn to broken things—not to fix them, but to share in their weight. Your quiet resilience, the way you carried your burdens without complaint (maybe because you were to meek, too weak willed to share in your thoughts and troubles), reminded him of himself in ways that frightened and intrigued him. To him, you were a mirror and a mystery, someone who made him feel seen even when you refused to be.

Tim, on the other hand, approached you like a puzzle, a thousand jagged pieces he couldn’t help but try to assemble. It wasn’t just curiosity—it was necessity. You challenged him in ways no one else did, unraveling the tightly coiled threads of his mind. He thought understanding you might help him understand himself, but somewhere along the way, it became something more. He admired the strength you tried to hide, and in his own quiet way, he wanted to protect it.

For both of them, you were a beacon—not of hope, but of something raw and unyielding, something they couldn’t turn away from. They didn’t know how to explain it, nor did they want to. All they knew was that being near you, even in your pain, made the world feel a little less cold.

Jason Todd and Bruce Wayne were the last, but certainly not the least in terms of infatuation.

For Jason, it was a storm. Fierce, chaotic, and impossible to ignore. He wasn’t one for subtleties, and his emotions had always been larger than life—rage, grief, guilt, and now this. He didn’t fall quietly; he crashed into you like a tidal wave, drawn to the fire in your eyes and the defiance in your every move. You reminded him of who he used to be, of the parts of himself he thought he’d lost in the Lazarus Pit.

But it wasn’t just admiration or connection—it was envy, too. He envied your ability to endure, to keep standing despite everything you carried. And somewhere in that envy was something tender, something he tried to deny but couldn’t help but nurture. Jason never did know how to love softly, and with you, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Bruce, however, was a different story. For him, it was quiet. Subdued. A steady ache that he refused to acknowledge, even as it consumed him. You weren’t just another person in his orbit—you were a paradox, someone who challenged his worldview while also fitting seamlessly into it. You had your own darkness, your own scars, but instead of drowning in them, you wore them like armor. Girly, sparkly and bright.

You were proof that there was strength in vulnerability, and that terrified him. Bruce Wayne, the man who had built an empire on emotional walls and calculated distance, found himself drawn to the way you refused to let the world break you. He saw in you what he always wanted to believe about himself—that the past doesn’t have to define the future.

But Bruce, as always, kept his distance. He thought it was better that way, safer for both of you. What he didn’t realize was that the more he pulled away, the more you slipped into the cracks of his carefully constructed life.

Jason was the storm. Bruce was the quiet. And you? You were the bridge between them all, the thread that tied their disparate worlds together.

Eventually these men will band together to tie you down. Keep that light of yours in a gilded cage, only for them to gaze at and maybe share with the world if they so willed.

But for now you have your freedom

cling to it.

For it will be like the life you had before,

a fleeting, fragile thing, slipping through your fingers before you even realize it’s gone.

tldr: yeah you’re f u c k e d

[sttoru]

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. boob obsessed!geto x female reader. smut, pwp. (big) tiddy appreciation. exhibitionism. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’. not proofread ! queued

“aht aht, don’t you dare look up,” suguru warns the non-sorcerer who’s grovelling before the both of you. the man was about to lift his head, but decides not to after hearing your lover’s cold tone.

suguru’s hands continue to massage your breasts nonchalantly, keeping you trapped on his lap. he’s been doing this for an hour now—teasing and fondling your body in front of the low lives that come to him for help.

it’s like he’s mocking them by not paying attention to their pleas, solely focusing on you instead. you’re more than embarrassed by the fact that your tits are on display, but suguru makes sure that the visitors can’t see you by commanding them to bow and not lift their heads.

he’d kill them on sight if they caught a glimpse of you.

“s-sugu,” a whine in the form of his name leaves your lips. his fingers are digging into the flesh of your breasts, squeezing and massaging them in circles. the kimono suguru had asked you to wear, is now pooling around your waist.

‘easier access,’ he said. you only now understand what he meant by that.

“shhh, keep it down, darling,” suguru nibbles on the curve of your shoulder, long black locks of hair tickling your exposed skin as they get in front of his face. you shiver as he pinches your nipples and twist them before pushing your breasts together. he sighs, “don’t want those filthy monkeys to hear your pretty voice.”

you squirm on his lap. his saliva stains the skin of your neck, his breathing heavy against your nape. the pads of his thumbs press against your nipples as he pretends to listen to whatever the man in front of you is trying to say.

“move your hips,” suguru whispers against your flesh. you can feel him smile against your shoulder after leaving a small kiss there. you listen so well as you automatically grind against his crotch—earning a low groan from him.

“yes, just like that. back and forth—mhmm, what a sweetheart you are,” your lover praises you in a soft tone, “you listen so well.”

you’re amazed by his change of tone when talking to you; how he goes from cold and stern to the visitors to soft and sweet to you. you bite your lip as your ass grounds against his hard bulge.

your tits are still getting played with. no matter where or when, suguru always has to have his hands or lips on them. his eyes are glued to your cleavage and the way your breasts jiggle and flow like water between his fingers.

“say. . .” suguru starts off, tongue quickly wetting his lips. he kisses the side of your neck lovingly, ignoring the poor man chattering in the middle of the room. his dick throbs in his boxers and his eyes glow from excitement. his hands squeeze your breasts once more;

“would you mind riding me, sweetheart? ah, please—while facing me so i can appreciate these beautiful tits of yours.”

[chrystal-ink]

Shadow X GN Reader

A Dangerous Game

NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !!!

Content warnings: smut, reader has a vagina, vaginal fingering, penis in vagina sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex

This is my first time writing smut please tell me if it's shit or not I promise I won't be offended lol.

-Chrystal

you sat on the couch trying to ignore the feelings flooding through you. the movie droned on as you felt the heat radiating off his body, his arm draped around you distracting you from the action on screen.

"just ignore it Y/N" you thought to yourself. "you can wait for tomorrow, it's not a big deal at all."

on any other day you would have given in, taken the opportunity of the quiet moment and alone time to share an intimate moment with your beloved partner. Unfortunately tonight you couldn't not because you didn't want to quite the opposite you wanted nothing more than to feel him close to you. Unfortunately, you forgot to take your birth control this morning.

you didn't know exactly why but the thought of being completely unprotected guided by the hands of fate while Shadow's cock was inside you was more arousing then any thought in the world. you couldn't get it off your mind no mater how hard you tried.

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat as you bit your lip your panties becoming wet anticipating action that wouldn't be coming tonight. you tried to slow your breathing down hoping he wouldn't notice the fact that you were completely turned on right now.

You cursed yourself for your forgetfulness. had you not forgotten you would be free to fuck all you wanted, but instead you were here doing everything in your power to distract yourself from the fluttering in your core.

Unfortunately, Shadow knew you so well he sensed your discomfort and immediately knew that you were in need of him. if he was being honest he wanted you too your scent had been driving him wild all night and he was looking for any excuse to feel the warmth of your pussy around him.

He could always tell when you were ovulating, a primal urge always stirred within him, wanting - no needing to be inside you filling you up with his cum, and seeing the look on your face as he brought you to orgasm. most of the time the feeling was dulled something that could be over and done within an hour or less either by taking a walk outside in the fresh air or by having a quickie.

but tonight the feeling was potent, stronger than it ever had been in the past. it was almost too much to bear. he wanted nothing more than to slam you against the couch and fuck you till the sun rose in the morning soaking your pussy in his seed.

grabbing your chin he turned your face to his planting a solid kiss on your lips. you melted into him forgetting your dilemma for a moment. grabbing his face you kissed him again, and again losing yourself in the taste of his mouth.

Making out wasn't so bad right? there wasn't any way you could get pregnant from that, so you continued, lips colliding with one another hypnotizing you into a blissful trance.

Shadow's hand traced up your leg his fingertips tickling the skin beneath as they trailed through your fur. stopping at your tail he gave it a light tug a small gasp escaping your mouth at his actions.

he gave you a smirk pleased with his teasing. he moved his mouth down to your neck kissing your sweet spots making you moan as his lips caressed the sensitive skin. his hands moved up your body grabbing the hem of your shirt he pulled it over your head and tossed it onto the floor. he made quick work of your bra unclasping it in an instant freeing your breasts from their prison.

each of his hands took a Brest massaging them as he swiped his thumbs across your nipples sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

you wrapped your legs around his waist your clothed pussy grinding against his growing erection . Shadow groaned against your neck the deep vibrations echoing through your body encouraging you to make your movements faster.

you were approaching the point of no return, you wanted to keep going all the way. but you knew you couldn't not without Shadow knowing, and not without risking everything in the process.

"Wait." you reluctantly pulled away stopping your movements.

"Is everything alright? why'd you stop"

"I'm sorry love, I really do want to tonight, but I can't"

"Why not?"

You sighed feeling defeated. "I missed my birth control this morning, so if we have sex tonight there's a slight chance I might get pregnant."

Shadow's ears perked up "What?"

"I mean the chances are pretty low but still better safe than sor-"

"Let's do it."

"What?" you weren't sure if you heard him correctly. Did he want to keep going?

"Let's have sex tonight."

"But what about- I mean we haven't even talked about -"

"I Know, but you said the chances are low right?"

"I mean yah but I still could, do you really want to risk it?"

"Yes." his hips bucked at the thought of you getting pregnant at his hand.

you thought for a second, just missing one pill didn't raise your chances by too much, it was almost like a game of roulette. the danger of it all aroused you more than you thought it would, and there's nothing stopping you from taking plan B tomorrow.

"Okay" you took a deep breath "Let's do it"

Shadow smiled Kissing you once again, his passion seeming to grow with the intensity of this night. his lips didn't leave yours once as he removed your bottoms tossing them aside before picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

on the way there you kissed every area that was available to you his face neck and chest becoming your canvas as your anticipation grew.

entering the bedroom Shadow carefully laid you out on the bed removing your panties and spreading your legs, he stood back for a moment, admiring every curve and surface of your body. Enjoying the way the moonlight gleamed off of your soaking wet pussy, ready and waiting just for him.

"Chaos you're perfect." he said before removing his gloves and climbing on top of you. picking up where you left off your lips collided, passion growing with each passing second.

your hips moved on their own tired of waiting for the attention you needed. reaching his hand down he slipped a single digit into your delicate folds prodding against your walls sending butterflies throughout your system.

"Be good for me and I'll put more in alright?"

"Mmmhmm" you hummed in agreement

his thumb traced circles around your clitoris. the cool metal of his inhibitor ring brushed against your inner thigh mixed with the stimulation of your sensitive nub sent a shockwave of pleasure through you.

he ran his finger along your walls looking for your sweet spot. a loud moan coming from you signaling him that he had found it.

"Perfect now, I don't want to you to make a sound, not right now, Do you think you can manage"

You nodded your head in agreement.

"Good"

he continued to work you every slight movement sending more and more pleasure thorough your system.

Shadow smiled listening to the wet slapping sound of your pussy, as far as he was concerned it was his favorite song, one of the only sounds he could listen to for hours.

he slid a second finger inside watching as your face scrunched trying not to make any sounds as he brought you closer to the edge.

You bit your lip hoping it would help fight the urge to moan, yell or make any noises.

"No no no, don't do that you'll hurt yourself" Shadow brought his other hand to your face releasing your bottom lip from the grip of your teeth and gingerly wiping his thumb over the bite marks.

He brought your hand to one of his quills.

"Hold this and when you feel like yelling pull, you won't hurt me I promise."

You obeyed gripping it tightly as he continued working on you adding a third finger to the mix.

you closed tightly around his digits, pulling on his quill you watched his head pull back. with each pull on his quill he pressed harder and harder against your walls, soon enough a familiar pressure began building in your abdomen.

"Okay my love, let me hear your beautiful voice once again."

without wasting a second you let out all the sounds you had been holding back.

Shadow listened as your beautiful moans filled the room. if your pussy was his favorite song then you were his favorite singer. your moans a symphony to his ears.

the pressure built more and more within you, you were going to snap at any moment, his fingers were like magic turning you into puddy in his skilled hands. losing all inhibitions the pressure finally released his name spilling from your mouth as you came into Shadow's gentle hand.

shadow smiled as he removed his fingers from you, playing with the fluids remaining on his hand. he could practically taste your fertility as he licked them clean.

"Are you alright?" He asked watching you pant as you lay on the bed.

"Yah, just catching my breath for a second."

"Good, Because that was just a warmup."

You looked down his cock was fully erect precum beading at the tip. he had been waiting for you and you were ready. this was the moment. Both of your lives could change forever after this, or they would remain the same there was only one true way to find out and that was by diving in head first.

"You said the chances of you getting pregnant were small right?"

"Yah."

"Good, Then I'm going to make this count."

With that he plunged his cock into you moaning as your walls contracted perfectly around him. he began to thrust slowly listening close as a string of soft moans flowed from your mouth.

he thought about making you his forever. the thought of him getting you pregnant made him thrust faster. a rough moan leaving his throat as he pushed himself further into you.

Shadow's cock fit perfectly inside of you. as if he was created for the purpose of pleasuring you, you clenched around him moaning in tandem with him as each of you drowned in each other's touch.

still riding the high of your previous orgasm you thought about how what you were doing was crazy, how it could end in complete disaster or incredible bliss. you thought about the possible consequences and the permanence of it all. but what was life without risk?

You lips craved more touch and they needed it now, grabbing Shadow by the Chest fluff you pulled him down into your lips, mouths intertwining with one another. you thrusted up in a circular motion pushing him deeper into you. he groaned against your mouth his deep voice vibrating in your chest.

Shadow grabbed your legs and adjusted your position folding you in half to get a better angle of your pussy.

you could tell he was close and so were you, in a few minuets it would all be over and your future would be undecided.

Shadow re inserted himself trusting at a speed you've never felt him go at before the quick brushes agist your clit bringing you one of the most intense levels of pleasure you have ever felt your legs beginning to tremble at the stimulation.

"mmm Shadow I think I-"

"Do it please, Cum for me."

You screamed as the intense orgasm Rippled throughout your body. not a single inch of you was spared from the wave of pleasure.

Shadow came not long after his hot cum filling you to the brim. he removed himself with a satisfying pop. he gently unfolded you taking you into his arms.

Still shaking from your orgasm Shadow curled himself around you steadying you drowning you in sweet words.

"You did so well, now rest I got you. I love you."

"That was incredible." You finally managed to get out.

"Yah, You should forget your pill more often"

you managed a giggle as you snuggled further into him.

"Nice try Love"

[sashi-ya]

𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗿 +18 figarland shanks x f! reader x figarland shamrock

🩸 tw: one piece manga #1137 spoilers! if you don't know who shamrock is, careful! 🩸 tw 2: mdni. nsfw. threesome. dp. oral. rough. man handling. insults. 🩸 a/n: hi, how you doing ~ I said I wanted to write it, and I did. Did I totally ignore the fact I need to pack my suitcase? yes. And did my slutty needs win? also yes. Please enjoy. Don't expect much characterization about Shamrock or a very accurate relationship with Shanks as we barely know him. also, I now asume the "shanks" on the left is not shanks but Shamrock since he went to see the Gorosei and we all thought it was Shanks. 🩸wc: 1.5k

“Who could have said it was that easy to bring you back home, brother!?” “Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this”

In between two men that look so alike, and still so different, you find yourself. Restricted by soft, noble hands with ill intentions… you were maybe only a bait.

“It’s ok, Shanks. He didn’t hurt me!” you scream, trying to tame his instincts. You know that the red-haired pirate’s Haki can stop you from breathing -and destroy everything around as well-

“See? She is not lying. I have taken care of her, brother! You shouldn’t leave your little toys scattered around the ports of this world, or else someone else might stole them!” Shamrock Figarland mocks Shanks, yet he does in such refined way it ends up sounding like a truth you might already believe.

Shanks eyes fix on yours; perhaps he knows something you still don’t know. Perhaps, he understands his brother might be right. Leaving you on that port some months ago, crying, feeling used, was something he didn’t want, but ended up doing.

“I must admit you have a great taste, brother. She is such a sweet treat” Shamrock purrs, having your waist surrounded by one of his arms, while his free one caresses your cheek. “Aren’t you?” he continues.

The emperor can’t stop himself; even if Shanks is rarely bothered by immature and stupid actions that are meant to tease him, this time it did actually enraged him.

Gryphon’s edge ends on Shamrocks neck, with you in between two man exhorting dominance and testosterone. Shanks sun bathed skin, with salty traces from the sea… Shamrock’s one, pale, clean, soft, used to the finest things…

“Stop!” you whine, pressed in between their chests. “Stop, please! Stop fighting over me!”

Shamrock laughs; he doesn’t seem disturbed by the burning blade against his carotid, and in fact he keeps adding fuel to the fire.

“You are scaring the lady, brother… do you think she is gonna prefer your brutal attempt to save her instead of being treated like a queen?” he smirks, pulling you against him more and more.

Shanks puts down the sword, slowly. He needs his hand free now, to touch your face, to lure you back at him.

“Should I save you then? Or should I let you choose in between him and I?” he whispers, using his fingers to lift your chin up.

The difference is notorious even though both have the same purpose; possess you. Shank’s calloused hands, versus, soft, never used hands… how to pick just one? If both are irresistibly desirable?

“I don’t wanna choose; I love you, but you left me alone… I don’t love your brother, but he gave me what you took from me” you murmur, perhaps already regretting your decision.

“Ah… then you want us both, don’t you?” Shamrock says, moving your head to look at him instead of his brother.

“You want us both, (Name)?” Shanks asks, this time forcing you to turn your head to him.

Both have their hands on your mandible now; cris crossed, their thumbs close to the commissures of your lips, and their hips plastered against your body. Both hard, both erect. Both desperate to assert dominance, to devour you like beasts, like a hungry dragon.

Oh, sweet prey you must bleed to death in between their jaws. And you are totally fine with that… “I want you both; I want you Shanks. I want you Shamrock-sama”

The tips of his similar swords already cut your clothes, tearing them to pieces, leaving them like rags scattered around you.

Nudity, delicious and tempting, served on a silver platter to them. Shaking, you receive their fangs on each side of your neck, carving marks on your flesh.

Shamrock’s fingers tangle in between your hair, pulling your head back, making your breasts bounce.

The Figarland brothers’ lips abandon your collarbones to kiss your nipples; each attack one; sucking or biting. The difference on stimuli you loudly whine, with legs trembling and slowly failing you to keep standing up.

“Don’t fall, come here” Shamrock lifts you up from your waist, pretty much ripping you from Shanks’ mouth. You get seated on a rocky bed, somehow like a sacrifice altar. Elbaph castles all look the same.

Shanks grunts, watching his brother walk around the cold cot as you lay on your back. And, immediately after, he crawls in between your legs.

The pirate pleasantly finds out you are dripping wet, something he knows very well about you.

“Go first if you wish; as an act of kindness, I’ll let you have her first” the knight spits, acting as if he is the only one commanding. “I’m gonna have her warm mouth around me, anyway”

You gasp, as they both look with pure hatred into each other’s eyes. Yet, the moment breaks as you are given little pats and slaps to look to the side; as Shamrock just said, he wishes your mouth surrounding his sex first.

“Open, baby” he orders, softly. And you do, sticking your tongue out while you wait for his hardness to go deep into your throat.

His white pants don’t even need to go fully down; he is not even bothered to do it; his sex out will be enough. Drippy and delicious, it lands on your tongue. You receive it, pleased.

And as he begins to pump in and out your mouth, you begin moaning and choking.

“Such a slut…” Shanks whispers, looking at your oral spectacle, at the way the corner of your eyes fill with tears as you gag with his brother’s dick.

And, while he thought he cared about your body being used by someone so close but still so different from him, the idea of you being exactly used is what got him harder than ever.

“Now let’s see if your cunt can still handle me” the Yonkou grunts, dragging his palm up and down your sex, getting it coated with your juices. From your perineum to your clit, fast, enjoying the humid feeling of more and more wetness, forcing your legs open as they tend to close in response.

Shanks changes his palm for his two fingers, gladly anticipating the way your walls will clench around his dick when he finally buries deep inside you.

Shamrock laughs while using your face as a fuck hole; a tight grip on your hair to move your head, to make it bob, like you didn’t matter, like you were just made to please his “holly” dick.

“Keep your legs open, little slut” Shanks orders, going faster and harder, masturbating and getting your insides ready for his upcoming intrusion.

And just before you could burst, the redhaired stops the fingering. Maybe to punish you, or maybe just because he can’t wait no more. He needs to replace his fingers for his rock-hard shaft. It has started to hurt from the desire, from the desperation to fuck you.

That desperation, leads the pirate to slide his dick deep inside you without a warning, without any delicacy or love. Just pure madness, making your insides revolve and your body retort.

“Wow, easy brother…” Shamrocks grunts, forcing your mouth to keep surrounding his shaft. “You are gonna break her” he continues, laughing as if he wasn’t doing the same.

“Shut up” Shanks grunts back, going harder, using his arm around your waist to keep you from shaking, manhandling you for his own pleasure. “Keep fucking her, use her, it’s all she wants… slut”

In any other situation you would have feel yourself sad or insulted, but Shanks is right… all you want now is to be used, fucked by them…

“Then, let me fill her whole too” “Now you are asking for permission?” “Come on… you know me, I still have some codes”

Shanks scoffs; stopping his hips from punishing you with brutal rams, he lays flat on his back.

“Come here, ride me and get ready… slut” the pirate commands, allowing you to crawl and straddle your hips on his lap. You let your shaky body to fall on his sex, feeling all the length reaching deeper than ever. “Good girl…”

You start riding him, while Shamrock’s presence quickly surrounds you from behind. He kneels and pushes you from your back to fall a little on Shanks chest. “I’m sure your cunt can handle the Figarland pride just as well” Shamrock whispers on your ear, tickling your shoulder with his long hair, letting his tip slowly slide your already occupied entrance.

It takes barely seconds for both to be finally penetrating you, and also for them to start fucking you at unison. Your hips lost the war, and now it’s theirs that move.

“That’s good slut, that’s very good… you can take us both so well…” “Let us fill you up until you can’t keep it inside…”

You are just a toy, trembling, stretched, used, fucked by two of the strongest men in the world. And what a pleasure it is to know you took the right decision, why picking one if you can have both? ~

[brights-place]

I loved your fanfic with an innocent reader. Now do it with Sanzu, Rindou and Inupi. Please!

Love your work!

[TR] Rindou & Inupi & Sanzu x Reader (separate) Warnings: Smut, NSFW!!, Drugs, BDSM, Kinky shit

A/N: I cannot control if minors read this or not or if your un-comfy with smut don't read this I do not recommend if you do not enjoy these topics and if you IGNORE my authors note and my simple instruction to click off this tumblr post and get mad at me if you don't like it I will tell you off for not READING a basic instruction from my typed out words. I write smut I write angst I write fluff I write what you request because I enjoy it so if you get mad I will shake my filipino fist telling you "TO GET OFF MY BLOG" like an old white man now ENJOY if you still wanna proceed!! Anyways this is sooo short cause I’m writing this at 1AM after having a night shift kms😰

Summary: Sanzu, Rindou and Inupi with a cute and innocent reader? Reader loves wearing bows and wearing cute things, besides being very innocent and naive.

Rindou Hitani

- Rindou with a sweet innocent reader is one of the most devious things I can think of cause *tucks strand behind my ear and giggles* (Not as much as my top 4 favs but he’s still there)

- Rindou with a sweet cute innocent reader is sweet he’d make sure to take care of you and pamper you lovingly always smiling warmly at your reactions how cute you look

- Praises your outfits and helps you put on your heels and sometimes swaps them with his shoes sometimes when they start to hurt hell if Inupi and Izana can do it so can he

- He loves seeing you wear silk pajamas it’s always so cute to him and enjoys the texture

- You know how you have bows and all that? Yeah you can tie a ribbon around it for more friction - Every time it happens everything feels so good your eyes crossing and closing as you wrap your arms around him, his scent intoxicating and surrounding you - Grunts and whimpers some times and enjoys how you look cute in pink and white - Gripping onto your hands or waist while he makes you take him and loves kissing you to see your drool passing your lips - Fucking loves how you try to speak but your words are slurred because his dick is just ramming into you without hesitation and with pure joy at how he could ruin something as sweet as you

Sanzu Haruchiyo

- Not gonna lie everybody writes sanzu as like he’s a rabid dog (The mad dog of Bonten LMAO) in sex and drugs as if its his only characteristics cause of all the drugs and stuff but genuinely I think he’d just be chill with most stuff and would just give a thumbs up cause well he kills and has a fucking KATANA cause he’s so pent up with all this shit (Bonten arc reference)

- So I think sanzu would be too lazy to do stuff or to have sex so depending on his mood it also depends on what yall do

- He enjoys your cute bows and stuff sometimes when he’s high out of his mind he’ll sloppily kiss you and compliment you saying shit like “Hey-! Yur cute ya knowwww god i’m soo lucky ya know? Hey lets bother koko-puffs for some money to get ya cute new skirt for me to rip!” Or “Ahaaa~ your so pretty when wearing matching outifts with meee *hic* I llve you so much”

- Shit like that but at the same time he’d be abit unhinged as fuck every now and then aswell with you - He was obsessed with the fact that every thing about you to your jewllery and to the soles of your shoes to your every dress that clung to your body was all his doing and what he was going to rip off your body - Loves the feeling of your walls clench around him he enjoys it dearly as he can't help but bite into your shoulder to keep quiet cause he can't help but enjoy ever single aspect of you - Clutching onto your hair grinning smugly at your scent -He likes knowing how much stronger he is than you, not that it isn’t obvious - So he loves to manhandle you whenever he gets the chance - The way you give him all the power in the world to move you around is heaven to him as he can't help but giggle - Sobbing into his arms like a giant mess as he degrades you while enjoying seeing you suffer because of him in many ways - gets excited with how you willingly allow him to rip your skirts and cute tops sometimes use your ribbons to cover your eyes if they are big enough to cover your eyes enjoys seeing you panic slightly

Seishu Inui

- Seishu like Kokonoi’s kinks aren't bad nor are they good it's just there like he’s just smiling softly and lovingly at you when you doll up infront of the vanity

- He makes sure that later on he fucks you against the same vanity to see how pretty you are WHO SAID THAT?! -He’s awful respectful of you and your space, and he really does want to take things slow, but Christ you don’t know what you do to him. - Loves to tease you quietly but keeps quiet and reminds you to keep your voice down - despite telling you to keep quiet he would purposely angle his hips to hit against your g-spot continuously causing you to struggle with keeping your volume down. - truth to be told he loves to hear the noises that slip past your lips as he kisses you - He would not want to cause you pain however he might try out with bondage and perhaps simple toys like the vibrator to use on you to make it more exciting - Inupi is quite good with his tongue there was once where he made you climaxed with his tongue alone for 3 times in a row without stopping ignoring your cries in overstimulation he just loves hearing your famillar normal voice turn into one that craves for more of him

reblogs + comments are appreciated ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ ©brights-place 2025 — do not repost on another platform, copy, translate or edit my works! if you fit my DNI list please don't interact!

[stark-ironman]

Something something something sugar daddy Hugh jackman because 😍😍

https://x.com/agathaharknssgf/status/1825671922245579244?s=46

Sugar Baby

A/N: Ughhhhhh the way I felt my insides get all tingly 😭if this is anywhere near good, let me know if I should do a part 2.

Warnings: Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby, small daddy kink, legal age gap, punching, mentions of blood, jealous Hugh, mirror sex.

Your doorbell rings as you're putting on your final shoe, hearing Hugh call out for you as he opens the door. You smile at him as he kisses your cheek and checks you out, grabbing your hand and spinning you.

"You look fantastic, princess." Hugh tells you while digging in his pocket and pulls something out. "Turn around." It's a soft command but you know better than to try and ignore it. He places the most beautiful necklace around your neck, watching as you admire it in the mirror.

"There's no way I can wear this. It's worth more than my apartment, hell more than my car. I'll feel really bad if something happens to it." Your anxiety starts getting the best of you and he kisses you softly, making you stop talking.

"I want you to keep it. We had a deal, remember?" His smooth, Australian accent whispers in your ear, making your knees weak. "I always said I hated expensive gifts." You try to reason but he tsks, looking in the mirror at you.

"You're mine, princess. You go with me places as my eye candy and we fuck when we get back, in return, I shower you with gifts and whatever else your heart desires." He states, running a hand up your thigh. Your heart skips a beat as you look at the mirror, watching Hugh admire your body while running his fingers anywhere he can, electricity following his touch.

"I'm real tempted to bend you over in front of his mirror and let you see how your body reacts to my touch," His fingers graze over your heat causing your breath to hitch before he pulls away, "Too bad we have to leave so we're not late." You take a deep breath, accepting his hand and he leads you out of your apartment.

Once in the car, he places a hand on your thigh and rubs his thumb over it softly. "When we get here, don't leave my sight." Hugh states softly, glancing over at you before turning back to the road. You nod and look out the window, watching buildings and cars pass by quickly before finally pulling up to the party.

"We're just here to make an appearance and see a couple friends, after that I'll take you home." He says getting out of the car before helping you out, handing his keys to the valet and leading you inside. You grip his hand tightly as he leads you through the crowd, feeling your anxiety creep up at the fact you don't belong around these rich, snobby people but you also won't turn Hugh down over something like this party.

-

About two hours after showing up, you tell Hugh you need to go to the bathroom and he tells you where to go, kissing you softly as you walk away. You follow his directions and use the bathroom, making sure to wash your hands and clean up before heading back out.

"You're Hugh's girl, right?" A random man asks as he walks up to you. You nod and he continues, "What are you doing with a man like him? He's too old for someone as young as you." You think back to what Hugh told you in the very beginning of your relationship about staying quiet when you're out with him and just let him take care of it but it's becoming very hard to do.

The guy steps towards you, touching your face but you flinch and step back from him, swatting his hand away. "I would appreciate you not touching me. Especially when you know Hugh doesn't like when people touch me." You try to say without stuttering. "Hugh doesn't know how to please a woman like you and you have no business being with him, especially when you're basically a nobody." He says stepping towards you again but he's thrown back as soon as he does and Hugh has him by the collar, staring down at his face.

"Is there a fucking problem here?" Hugh snarls, his Australian accent deepening and it sends a shock through you. "Ask your whore instead o-" Hugh punches him before he can finish his sentence, blood falling quickly down his face. "Call her that again and next time you won't be so lucky." His hand grabs yours and he leads you out, walking to the car.

He starts driving, white knuckling the steering wheel as he speeds through the city, all the way to his apartment in silence. You both head inside, taking off your shoes in the doorway before walking to his bedroom and you head to the bathroom.

You take off your jewelry and wipe off the makeup, walking back into bedroom to see Hugh standing over by the window.

"What all did he say?" He finally asks in a low but firm voice. "Just that I didn't need to be with you and needed to be with someone who could treat me right then said I'm a nobody." You say feeling tears fill your eyes as you relive the moment.

Hugh nods, turning towards you, "Do you think that's true? About needing someone better?" You shake your head, sitting on the bed. "I want to be with you." You say. "What about when he said you're actually nobody?" Another question and you shrug, "It's true. I am a nobody."

He slips his jacket off, loosening up his tie as he walks towards you, placing a hand on your face in the same spot the guy touched you. "He touched what's mine," His fingers run over your skin, "Tried tainting my beautiful girl with his sick touch."

His hands grab your face as he leans down and kisses you with hunger. "Stand up." He commands softly. You stand and he slides your dress off, grabbing your hand and leads you back to the bathroom.

You furrow your brows in confusion as he leads you to the counter. "Bend over, princess. I'm going to show you that you're not just a nobody to me, you're going to see that you are my entire world." He emphasizes on the word you, feeling your thongs get soaked.

He bends you over and holds your face in the mirror, looking at you with lust-blown eyes that have you damn near begging for him to go ahead and fuck you. Hugh slides his belt off, pushing his slacks and briefs down enough to pull his dick out.

His hand wraps around his base, pressing and rubbing the tip in your folds as if teasing you, then he finally slides in softly causing you to moan at the stretch.

His hips hit yours as he bottoms out and he grips your hips tightly, moving at a slow pace. "Don't ever worry about what anybody thinks about you," He grunts while unbuttoning his shirt, "You will always be somebody to me," His eyes stay locked on yours with what he says next, "You're mine, babygirl. Nobody will ever be able to do what I do to you, will they?"

You whimper, "No, daddy. I'm all yours." He smirks, speeding his movements up as he hits your sweet spot.

The sound of moans and skin slapping fills the bathroom. You look up at Hugh again to see his mouth slightly open, head close to falling back from pleasure with his shirt unbuttoned and his tie barely hanging on, causing you to groan at the sight. This man will literally be the death of you with how fucking good he looks to you.

"There you go, babygirl, clench around my cock. Do you like watching what I'm doing?" He asks with a smirk when he sees your fucked out face. You nod, reaching your hand behind you to grab him but he grabs both of your wrists and pulls them behind your back, gripping them with one hand and places the other on your hip.

He starts fucking into you at a brutal pace, causing you to cum unexpectedly but it doesn't stop him, you honestly think it's made him more feral and he moans at the way your insides are clinching around him.

"I think you can do another one for me." Hugh growls as he pulls you up, your back against his chest, and he wraps an arm around you until his fingers are on your clit, rubbing the sensitive nub before thrusting back into you.

His other hand comes up around your throat, squeezing just enough to apply pressure.

"Daddy..." You moan, causing him to move his hand faster. "Ruin these pants, babygirl. I want them soaked by the time I'm done with you."

His words send you over the edge, feeling a gush shoot out between your legs and he moans loudly, twitching inside of you and slowly thrusting inside of you.

He pulls out slowly, holding you close to him.

"Still have doubts, princess?" Hugh asks and you chuckle. "Maybe a little. I might need to be shown again." He laughs and kisses your shoulder, leading you to the shower.

"Let's clean somewhat up and I'll show you exactly who you are to me."

[wintfleur]

I am in hungry for a f1 fic….. pls feed me

౨ৎ dramatic mornings are perfect with you

°. — pairings ( lando norris x fem! reader )

°. — summary ( lando will always deal with your dramatics . . . because even so early in the morning he finds you adorable )

°. — details ( g; fluff, humor ig?. w; none really, a little talk of readers boobs. wc; 1.9k )

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I am hungry for some f1 fics too . . I’ve missed writing for f1, I’m sure I’ll be writing more now that the season has started !!! Hope this satisfies your hunger <333 please let me know what you guys think x )

main masterlist f1 masterlist

You let out an annoyed sigh as you laced your fingers across your midsection and on top of your duvet, your thumbs absentmindedly tapping against each other. Your eyes darted to the right to see that he still hasn't moved at all, no reaction from him as he slept peacefully next to you, the sun that shone through your white curtains illuminating his face so beautifully. 

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked away from him and back up at your ceiling, a small huff leaving your lips. You continued to tap your thumbs against each other for a few more moments only to abruptly stop as an even louder sigh left your lips. You quickly turn your head to face him when you hear the familiar sound of the blankets shift, and a grumpy frown comes across your face when you see him snuggle into his pillow, instead of waking up and asking you what's wrong like you expected him to do. 

The more you stared at your oblivious and sleeping boyfriend, the more annoyed you got. His beautiful brown curls were all over the place ⸺ a physical testimony to how he can't stay still even in bed. Those beautiful curls that girl had the nerve to run her hands through. His cheek was squished against your baby pink pillow, soft breaths leaving his slightly parted lips. The same lips that smiled down at the girl and kissed her forehead . . . you couldn't believe it when you saw it. 

Well to clarify  . . . you didn't see it. You dreamt it . . . But that's not the point! 

You looked away from your sleeping boyfriend and to your left where your bedside table was, your pink cloud alarm clock showed that it was 7 in the morning. You and lando both refused to be up so early on days off like today, but while your boyfriend was sleeping peacefully ⸺ you couldn't find yourself being able to go back to sleep after the dream you had. 

You rolled over on your side facing lando and leaned up on your elbow, you still had a grumpy frown on your lips as you stared down at him. You had to stop yourself from bringing your hand down and softly brush his curls out of his face and remind yourself that you were in fact upset with him. How could you not be after what he did? 

You used your free hand and moved it towards him, pulling the blanket down from covering his shoulder before poking him right in the ribs. Your first poke got no reaction since it was too soft, so your second one was much harder and the only reaction you got was a groan leaving his parted lips and him moving to lay fully on his stomach instead of laying on his side. You ignored the awe you wanted to let out when he does that adorable nose scrunch as he snuggles deeper into your pillows. 

“Lando” you hissed his name but the only reaction you got from him was him turning his head away from you, a dramatic and offended gasp leaving your lips at the action. You glare at the back of his hand and fully sit up. You bring your finger up to his shoulder blade and his cotton t-shirt did nothing to protect him from the feeling of your relentless poking. 

“Darling if you poke me again” Lando grumbled groggily as he lifted his head up from the pillow and turned to face you, his eyes were barely open and he had a red hue and a few line marks from your pillow on his face, all signs of having a great sleep ⸺ a great sleep you interrupted, any other morning you would have felt bed . . . but today was not one of them. 

“You're what?. . . going to cheat on me again?” 

“What?” Lando choked on his own spit, his tone filled with confusion and grogginess. He pushed himself up on his elbows, the movement causing the blanket to fully fall off his back and you to feel a cold chill on your bare thighs; your sleep shorts not helping against the morning chill. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palms and turned his head to look at you, his eyes narrowed “What on earth are you talking about ⸺ are you feeling sick? Because you are talking mad” 

You slapped his hand away from your forehead that he was trying to feel for a fever and glared at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. “What's sick is what you let her do . . . would you stop staring at my tits!” You trailed off into a shout once you noticed your boyfriend's eyes staring down at your white lace camisole covered chest. 

You gasped dramatically and pulled the pillow out from under his elbows and used it to cover your chest “I bet you couldn't keep your eyes off her tits! Could you?” your tone was accusatory, and your grumpy frown turns into a sad one at the thought, you held the pillow tightly to your chest for some comfort. Lando loved your boobs . . . it hurt to think that he was staring at someone else's. 

“Darling, i have no idea who this she is” Lando said as he moved to sit up, his fingers in air quotes as he says ‘she’. Lando moves closer to you and gently pulls down the pillow you stuffed your face in and continues speaking, your words had chased away any ounce of tiredness in his body “But i can assure you, that your boobs, your wonderful boobs may i add, are the only ones i stare at.”

“You cheated on me, i am not going to fall for your sweet words lando” 

“When did I cheat on you hmm?” Lando questioned you, tilting his head with a hum. He knew for a fact that he has never and will never cheat on you, so he was confused and concerned why you were passionate that he did. You were too upset to notice the concern in your boyfriend's tone and you were quick to answer him “In my dream! You let her run her hands through your hair and down your chest and then you had the nerve to kiss her forehead!” 

“Wait wait wait . . . your dream?” Lando cut your rant off, a look of disbelief on his face from your words. This was all because of your dream? Lando thought. And even though Lando felt the tiniest of annoyance from being woken up so early, he couldn't help but find the situation and the way you were acting . . . adorable. “Yes, my dream, keep up lan!” you rolled your eyes in annoyance and lando let himself relax back in bed, laying back down and pulling you down with him. You reluctantly let yourself lay on your side, facing him. 

“You're annoyed with me?” Lando muttered as he rested his chin in the palm of his hand as he stared at his girlfriend, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. 

“Clearly” 

“For something that I did in your dream?” He had to stop himself from smiling when he asked you, he didn't know why it was so attractive to see you jealous about a dream. You noticed his lips twitching up into a smile for a few seconds before falling into his resting face. A dramatic scoff leaves your lips, and you are quick to turn your back to him, upset that he wasn't taking this seriously. 

Lando smiles and scoots closer behind you, sliding his arm around your waist and resting it under the pillow you were still holding against your chest, using his strength to pull you back snug against him. You wanted to complain and push him off, but you couldn't help but let yourself sink and relax in his warm embrace. Lando who was still leaning up on his elbow looks down at your side profile as he speaks softly “I’m sorry i did that darling, dream me is very stupid it seems.” 

“But that was just a dream because I promise you, you are the only girl I want. The only girl whose tits I want and do look at” Lando leaned down as he trailed off into a whisper, your breath hitching when you felt his warm breath against your neck as he whispers in your ear. Lando slipped his hand under your camisole and softly traced random shapes on your stomach as he continued to whisper “The only forehead i want to kiss is yours.” 

You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling at your boyfriend's words, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing his sweet talking was in fact working. Lando moves his hand out from under your top and softly places two of his fingers on your jaw, gently using them to tilt your face towards him. Lando has a small pout on his very kissable lips as he looks down at you “Baby please don't be mad at me because dream me is an idiot, you know I’d never do that to you.” 

“You're right . . . you are an idiot” you whispered back with a small nod as you adjusted your body to lay on your back. You lifted your hand to brush back some of Lando's messy curls from his face as he looked down at you. Lando's eyes fluttered closed for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of you playing with his hair before he opened them and looked down at you with a big smile “You mean dream me, right?” 

You shrugged playfully, the corner of your lips tilting up into a cheeky smile. Lando gasped dramatically, faking shock and hurt at your words. You thought he was going to bring his hand to dramatically put over his heart like your dramatic boyfriend has done before, when you saw him move it from your chin, but instead he rests it on the pillow right next to your head; caging you in between his body and the bed. 

You locked eyes with your boyfriend and before you could question why he was smirking down at you like that, he was leaning down and leaving a big smooch on your cheek. He quickly moved to your other cheek, then he littered kisses all over your face. Making sure that he kissed every inch of your beautiful face. “Eww lan morning breath” you whined out as you tried to cover your face with your hands, worried that he would smell your breath. 

“My girl thinks I’d cheat on her with some random girl from the club ⸺ morning breath is the last thing on my mind right now” Lando whispered as he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip before moving it up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear and out of your face. You smile softly as you hear him say ‘my girl’. You whisper with an embarrassed sigh as you think back on the morning you two have shared “I've been pretty dramatic haven't I?” 

“You're so adorable you know that right?” Lando grinned, completely ignoring your question. Yes, you were, but he wouldn't change anything about you at all. He wouldn't change anything about this morning. Because he woke up with you by his side. You smile and bite your lip, absentmindedly fidgeting with the bottom of Lando's shirt “Mind telling me that again?” 

“I promise to tell you that every day for the rest of our lives.” 

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( I LOVE THIS SM !!! I MISSED WRITING CUTE BF LANDO, please let me know that you guys think, and if you’d like to be added to my lando or my f1 taglist 🫶🏻 )

°. — taglist ( @ophcelia @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — prologue | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | coriolanus is his own warning, mentions of death, elitism, self harm (Coryo burns his wrist)

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 eight year old Coryo finds out who his soulmate is and his feelings about it

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 this is the first official post about this series that I started on a whim! I am excited to see where this goes, please give me feedback, thank you!

series taglist | series masterlist | navigation

It started with Sejanus. Despite being friends with the boy, eight-year-old Coriolanus Snow couldn't help but loathe the fact the boy had District blood.

Sejanus' presence in the Capitol Academy was an insult to all of Capitol. He couldn't comprehend how it was all allowed before he heard the whispers. Sturbo Plinth bought his way in with money.

Money. The one thing a Snow should be entitled to and yet has none of. Even the power his name held was dwindling. Coriolanus will do anything to make sure ‘Snow lands on top'.

With that vow, Coryo gently brushed his thumb over the tattoo on his wrist. A number, something of significance for his soulmate. Whenever he felt overwhelmed, he traced over the dark lines. He felt instantly calm.

Everything is going to be alright.

His soulmate will be a princess, a goddess, a rich Capitol girl no one can compare to. He will have a happy ending with her. Snows will rise on top, and his girl will be beside him every step of the way. The First Lady of Panem as he will be the president.

He vividly remembers the day all of his hopes were crushed. It was a couple of weeks after Sejanus started attending the academy. The boy was mocked by everyone, and Coriolanus thought it was deserved, a district boy was nothing more than an animal.

Then came the district girl, this one from District One, the district closest to the Capitol. But still not the same. The girl from the district was the prettiest he had ever seen. Although she's district. She had claimed the hearts of the teachers, and in return received many privileges. It was rumored that even the dean had a soft spot for her.

It was understandable why. She was a girl with a sweet smile, a secret sharp tongue, and hidden cruelty in her eyes he wasn't sure anyone saw except him. Her eyes always softened when she looked at him but she was always friendlier with Sejanus. Pea in a pod sticks together after all.

It was a bright day, a hot summer making him sweat in his uniform more than the walk to the academy did. That was the day he felt his heart break, and soul crushed. It was completely by accident. Sejanus and you thinking that maybe, you were soulmates. And Coriolanus thought so too, after all, you both were so close, attached to the hip.

Coriolanus felt like he was intruding into something private whenever he was near you both. With your shared giggles and secret smiles, you were as close as children could be.

When you raise your shirt sleeve revealing your soulmate's tattoo, the date is meant to be the most significant to your soulmate. Sejanus didn't recognize it but Coriolanus did, much to his nightmare.

It was the date most important to him. It was the day of his mother's and unborn sister's death. The day he lost someone he held so close to his heart. That's the number etched on your skin.

No. No! He grabbed your wrist, ignoring your yelp and the protest from Sejanus. His eyes were wide and he felt his body shake. “No. . .” He whispered, a sob in his throat.

“What's wrong?” You asked, trying to get your hand out of his hold, and due to his weak, underweight body, you did it easily enough. You rub your wrist and wait for Coryo's answer.

You don't get one because Coriolanus Snow had turn away and begun to walk away from you and Sej.

When he reached his home, his body was shaking and fat drops of tears falling from his eyes. A district girl as his? Never, never in a thousand years. His dead father would have been so disappointed. He refused to accept her as his.

He won't. Ever.

Tigris tried to ask what happened, but Coryo ignored her. He went into the kitchen, turning on the stove. The fire burned blue and orange. He didn't hesitate, ignoring the scream from Tigris as he put his wrist forward. He bit his lips to not scream himself.

By that time, Tigris had pulled him back. The skin had burned, along with it was gone the soulmate tattoo of his. He let himself sob as Tigris tried to fix him up as much as she could. She didn't scold him, couldn't, when he was crying like he had lost everything, all of his dreams shattered and the reality had settled in.

This was ten years ago, he decided he had no soulmate.

Now as eighteen, he wondered if it would remain true.

next chapter!

Taglist: @tristanswildcat

[streetlamp-amber]

the common cold

batfamily x batmom!reader

word count: 2.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

REQUEST: “hi I love your writing so much. You can totally ignore this but id like to request batmom/batfam where maybe Dick and Jason get sick and batmom takes care of them and then she gets sick and Bruce has to take care of her this can be before or after the baby is born. And b obviously doesn't want to get sick so he wears a mask and gloves when he has to be around her.” NOTES: this is set less than a year after first kicks but you don’t need to read it first to read this one. also this is your reminder that the covid pandemic is not over and to please start wearing a mask again in public spaces to protect yourself and others from catching a very disabling and very deadly virus!!

It all started in Dick’s classroom.

It also didn’t help that a common cold was not considered serious enough for the kids to miss out on school. So, naturally, the virus spread through the students and Dick ended up bringing it back home to the Manor. It didn’t take more than two days for Jason to catch it too.

You refused to send your boys off to school no matter what the rules were. You were still on maternity leave – being Bruce Wayne’s wife had many perks, one of them being a one year long maternity leave with no complaints from your boss and the guarantee that you would have your job back once it’s over – so you spent the entirety of your days nursing your boys back to health. Your four month old baby girl Alice had been moved to Alfred’s wing where he was taking great care of her until the virus was no longer a threat. Bruce, ever so protective of those he loves most, didn’t want to risk the two most vulnerable people in the house to catch the boys’ cold and so you reluctantly agreed that, for the time being, it was better to have your baby quarantined away from you. You still made sure to visit the two every day, once you had showered and changed your clothes, but you couldn't wait for this to be over and have your baby back in your wing of the Manor.

Dick and Jason were two different people when sick. Where your oldest had no problem with remaining in bed, doing nothing but reading or watching television series on the iPad, the other one absolutely hated being confined to his room and being forced to rest.

“But Ma! I’m fine-d!” Jason nasally cried out exasperatedly, all dressed up for school and with his backpack hoisted on his shoulders.

You tried your hardest not to chuckle at the fact this was straight out of an episode of Friends. “When you put a ‘d’ at the end of ‘fine’, you're not fine,” you told your son, leaning on his doorway with your arms crossed over your chest.

“But staying in bed is sooo boring!” He continued complaining. He would've said more but a series of cute little sneezes interrupted him.

“You know, kids usually would kill to have days off from school and here you are, actually wanting to go back to school,” you laughed as you walked in his bedroom and sat down at the foot of his bed.

“I’m missing the big dodgeball tournament,” Jason pouted, crossing his small arms over his chest.

“I’m sorry Jaybird, but you’re in no shape to play dodgeball,” you told him, moving his dark hair away from his forehead and putting the back of your hand against it. “At least you don't seem to have a fever, which is better than your brother.”

Jason deepened his little pout on his lips and you sighed. “Tell you what, I’m gonna go check on Dick and then you and I can play board games once you’re back in bed and dressed in clean pajamas, how's that sound?” You suggested, hoping to lift his mood a little bit.

He reluctantly nodded his head and that was a good enough answer for you.

You left his room and went across the hall to Dick’s bedroom. “Hey bubs, how are you feeling?” You asked him from the door.

Dick looked over at you with his glazed eyes from his iPad and lifted his right arm, making a thumbs up but lowering his hand so that the thumb was laying horizontally in the air, halfway up and halfway down. A pitiful sigh blew out of your lips as you walked in his room and you sat next to where his body was curled in his bed to check his temperature. You handed him the thermometer from his bedside drawer and after holding the stick under his tongue for a few seconds, he gave it back to you.

“Well at least your fever has gone down a little,” you told him as you put back the device on the bedside drawer. “Keep on resting and continue drinking lots of water, I’ll be in Jay’s room trying to keep him occupied until lunch so knock on the wall if you need anything and I’ll be able to hear you,” you said while softly running your fingers in his hair, making him close his eyes as he appreciated the soothing feeling.

“Thanks Mom,” he groggily said and pressed play on whatever show he was watching on his iPad to pass time.

It wasn’t until a week later that the boys had fought off the cold and were good to go back to school, much to your contentment. You loved them with all of your heart, but you missed having your baby girl around you.

You woke up on Saturday, feeling off. You had a pounding headache, your throat was scratchy and your nose was clogged. “No. No, no, no,” you whined nasally. It was established yesterday that Dick and Jason were no longer sick, Alice was supposed to come back in your side of the manor today, but it looked like you had caught the boys’ virus.

A soft knock at your bedroom door drew you out of your sorrow. It wasn’t until your husband, still in his pajamas and holding your daughter in his arms, that you realised his side of the bed was unoccupied. “Someone couldn’t wait to see her Mommy,” he sang, wiggling Alice around in slow movements and making her giggle loudly.

Expecting you to smile and hold out your arms for the baby, Bruce was surprised that you burst out in tears instead.

“Don’t come closer, I caught the boys’ cold,” you hurriedly said before he walked further in your bedroom. You grabbed a tissue from your bedside table and dried your tears then blew your nose.

Bruce’s face morphed into a sad frown. “I’m sorry sweetheart. You just stay in bed, I’ll bring this missy back to Alfred and I’ll take care of you,” your husband told you, taking control of the situation like he so easily did as Batman.

You nodded your head and more tears fell out of your eyes as Bruce left with Alice. You just wanted your daughter by your side and it pained you that not only were you gonna be separated from her for longer, but this time you could not go see her throughout the day like you did for the week prior.

About five minutes later, Bruce was opening the door to your shared bedroom again, this time with an N95 mask wrapped around his head and latex gloves on his hands. Your eyes were round with surprise when Dick and Jason followed behind him, KN95 masks on their faces as they weren’t big fans of the head strap.

“What are you two doing here?” You asked your sons before a short coughing fit rattled you.

“Dad told us you’re sick and we want to help him take care of you like you took care of us,” Dick answered as he stopped next to Bruce at your bedside while Jason climbed on the bed and sat crossed legs next to you.

Tears blurred your vision once again and you grabbed both of your boys’ hands. You wanted to hug them and press kisses all over their heads, to shower them with all the love and affection you held for them, but you settled for hand holding to not reinfect them. “I’m so lucky to have the sweetest, most caring boys in all of Gotham,” you told them, your emotions bleeding through your voice.

Jason couldn’t help himself and hugged you with his small arms wrapped around your middle, nuzzling his head to your body. “Don’t cry Ma,” he said and it took everything in you not to sob at the sound of his small voice.

Jason was a Mama’s boy through and through. You were the first person he warmed up to when he joined your family, you were the only one he listened to whenever he was having a tantrum, you were the one he would wake up in the night to soothe him after he had a nightmare. He hated to see you in pain, he hated being away from you (the thirty hours you spent in labour were Alfred’s thirty longest hours of his life, even as Dick tried to help him entertain Jason while they waited for you at home) and he would burn down anyone who dared make you cry.

“Alright boys, let's give Mom some room so I can get a few tests done and make sure it’s nothing too serious,” Bruce gently ordered your sons, who complied without protest.

“Bruce, it’s just a cold,” you whined at your overprotective husband. “I didn’t protect myself while taking care of the boys and caught their bug, it’s nothing serious.”

“Like you always tell me darling, mieux vaut prévenir que guérir,” Bruce replied and you grumpily huffed, knowing he was right.

“What does that mean?” Jason asked curiously. It fascinated him that both you and Bruce could speak more than just English and he was oh so eager to learn all the languages you spoke.

“It's the french equivalent of better safe than sorry,” your husband explained as he got out a thermometer from the medical bag he brought with him from the Batcave.

Bruce got to work, running down a series of few tests to make sure you really only had a cold, as your sons observed him. You then came to a realisation that made you chuckle, prompting all three boys to look at you with interrogation points in their eyes.

“It’s just funny how, usually, I’m the one with the medical bag, cleaning your bruises and stitching you up after patrol,” you explained and you saw the corners of Bruce’s eyes narrow, knowing there was a small smile behind his N95 mask.

“Well, it's good to get out of the routine every once in a while,” he said as he started putting away all the material he had gotten out of the medical bag, “but let’s not make this a habit.”

You scoffed, or more like managed to scoff as a coughing fit took over your body at the same time. “That’s rich coming from the guy I’ve been stitching up every night for the last ten years.”

Bruce glared at you, unamused by your comment, as the boys giggled behind their masks.

“Mom might be sick but she’s sound enough to still be sassy to Dad,” Dick remarked to his brother.

Your husband rolled his eyes, exasperated, and decided to ignore what had just happened. “You’ve only got a cold, so just drink–”

“Drink lots of water, keep myself warm, chicken broth, chicken broth, chicken broth,” you interrupted him. “I know what to do Bruce, I’m a mother who spent the last week taking care of her sick kids,” you told him, slightly annoyed.

“Except that now I don’t want you to do anything. I’m the one taking care of you darling,” Bruce softly said, not affected by your mood. “I’m gonna go start a pot of chicken broth. Boys, help your mother get comfortable and stack some pillows behind her,” he ordered around your sons as he slipped out of your bedroom, medical bag in hand.

You stayed silent and unmoving for a few seconds, waiting for the creak of the second stair from the top (that you refused to get fixed) under Bruce’s weight, to spring into action. “Dick, I need you to go to Alfred’s wing and ask him to make some chicken broth,” you quickly whispered, making your now thirteen year old pause in his action of retrieving some pillows for you. “I love your dad, but that man can not cook. At all,” you explained. “So I need you to go wash yourself quickly, change your clothes, run to Alfred’s wing and ask him to make some chicken broth that you will bring to me incognito. Capiche?”

Dick nodded his head, taking your request as seriously as a Robin mission.

“Oh and while you’re over there, play a little with your sister, make sure she hasn’t forgotten who you are,” you tried to joke although your heart twisted a little. You really hated flu season and you hated being separated from your daughter even more.

“Don’t worry Mom, I was already planning to,” Dick told you, the corner of his blue eyes narrowing as he smiled behind his mask. “We’ll even facetime you so you can talk to her,” he added as he opened the door.

Your eyes filled with tears, you hadn’t even thought of doing that in the first place. “Thank you bubs,” you smiled tearily at him before he left the room.

“Mama, do you want me to put some of the sticky cream on your chest?” Jason asked you when he judged the stack of pillows behind you was good enough.

“The VapoRub?” You clarified and your son nodded his head. “Yeah, it’ll help clear my airways. Do you know where it is?”

Jason shook his head ‘no’ so you instructed him which drawer in the bathroom he needed to rummage through to find the little jar and he left your room with determination to complete his own mission.

Now that you were alone, you laid down a little lower under the duvet, leaning your head back on the mountain of pillows behind you as you let out an exhausted sigh. You just hoped to get through this cold as fast as possible.

To your surprise, Bruce walking back in your shared bedroom interrupted your little moment.

“Oh darling, don’t cry. What is it?” He asked you in a coo as he came to sit next to you on the edge of the mattress. 

“I’m not crying,” you quickly denied even though you knew your eyes were filled with unshed tears.

“But you were about to,” he countered and you couldn’t argue with that. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be making chicken broth?” You avoided his question with one of your own.

“Saw Dick in fresh new clothes walking in the direction of Alfred’s wing,” he explained, “and you and I both know cooking is not my forte,” he finished with a light joke.

“It’s the thought that matters, honey,” you placed your hand over his that rested on your bed, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

“Yeah but now I’m feeling pretty useless,” Bruce sighed out, staring at your hands.

“Well, you can make yourself useful by checking in on Jason who was supposed to be back with the jar of VapoRub by now,” you said.

“That’s because you keep one billion things in those drawers,” he chuckled and you hit his shoulder with a soft punch.

“Mieux vaut prévenir que guérir,” you argued, repeating what he told you earlier.

Bruce shook his head from left to right. “Alright, I’ll go check on our little bird,” he said and stood up. “Anything else you want me to bring?” He asked you as he neared the door.

“A cup of the Cold 911 tea blend please and thank you,” you answered while reaching for a tissue to blow your nose with.

“A warm cup of tea for my sick wife, coming right up,” he confirmed and disappeared in the hallway, leaving the door slightly ajar.

“When you say it like that, it sounds like I’m terminally ill!” You retorted loud enough for him to hear you, judging by Bruce’s laugh that echoed along the wood panelled walls of the second floor.

You ended up being sick for no more than three days, much to your enjoyment and relief, and spent the next two weeks glued to your daughter Alice, refusing to let her go after spending that much time away from her. Alfred loved to joke about your boys’ love being the secret remedy to your speedy recovery, and he wasn’t entirely wrong when he said that, but Bruce staying at home for those three days to take care of you, even taking a break from his Batman patrols to be by your side at night, was the mystery ingredient to cure your common cold.

[alchemistc]

Donato spots it first - Tommy's been fidgeting with the just-too-short sleeves of his shirt for the past ten minutes, fingers curling into the ends of the arms, thumb sliding along the hem like maybe he could make them long enough to fully cover his wrists just by thinking really hard about it. It's stretched tight across his shoulders, the neck hole feels too high, biting into his skin, and Tommy is absolutely certain it's been hemmed in at the fucking waist, because he can barely keep the damn thing tucked into his pants.

(The cost of having those fucking magnificent gazelle legs is apparently torso space.)

"You shrink your shirt in the wash again, Kinard?"

Tommy's been begging their vendor to switch to a jersey blend for years because 100% cotton undershirts are a goddamn bitch and a half to maintain.

Tommy thinks about ignoring the question entirely. They've been razzing him for weeks about the way every single smile line in his face has been putting in overtime lately.

And then she gets a closer look at it. The merch is usually the same cross-department, but every once in a while some probie will get stuck with the task of ordering a few extras to have as backups around the station and they'll go a little too hard on customization. Like, for example, the one he'd picked off the top of his clean laundry basket without looking in his rush out the door this morning.

Lucy's eyes narrow. She reaches forward, pinches the 118 emblem blazing across the breadth of his shoulder, takes in the color and sturdiness of a shirt he definitely can't play off as being old enough to have been from his own time at the One Eighteen.

Donato grimaces so mockingly Tommy nearly warns her that her face'll get stuck like that. "Christ, Kinard, how fucking domestic are you two?"

(Three days off together after a week of getting by with random texts, their schedules nearly opposite, and when Evan had stared at his overnight bag on day two and realized he didn't have any spare undershirts he'd pouted up a storm about the fact that if he had to go back to his place it didn't make a lick of sense to turn right back around to Tommy's, so Tommy had just thrown Evan's dirty undershirt in with the rest of his own laundry. And then prompted Evan to throw all his other stuff in the wash too. Halfway across the city, Evan is definitely rolling too-long sleeves over his palm with the tips of his fingers and Tommy does not have time to think about how much he likes the idea of that )

"He doesn't even know my how I take my coffee," Tommy snipes, like that avoids the question, and across the locker room Johnson slams his locker shut with a snort.

"Because you've been using his increasingly more desperate attempts to figure it out as some weird intricate mating ritual for three months now."

"It's about --."

"--the journey, not the destination," they both interrupt, eyes rolling, and Tommy doesn't bother to try to hide the grin in his face.

"He just wants to get it right so bad."

Donato's face is unimpressed. "Ugh. Can you please stop being so smitten right in front of me? I'm gonna throw up."

Tommy leans in for the kill. "Your wife ever buy you flowers, Johnson? Because I've been trying to decide how much thought went into the arrangement he brought me on Saturday, and I figure -." He dodges the palm Johnson extends towards his face with a bark of bright laughter.

---

Evan 2:15 PM

Boyfriend privileges are a SCAM

Evan 2:15 PM

Why is YOUR NAME on the back of this shirt? There's no way that's standard

Evan 2:16 PM

Chimney's being homophobic

Evan 2:19 PM

Nvm Gerrard saw it and now I'm just sad he didn't actually have a heart attack about it

[ovrgrwnivy]

Hello! I saw your requests were open so I was wondering if you could write a Spencer Reid x Reader fic based off “prison for life” by Olivia Rodrigo. Spencer has always been in the protector role so i believe it would fit him, please and thank you

PRISON FOR LIFE ; spencer reid

i know i can protect myself, but when you do it for me it’s hot as hell . . .

a/n: your brain is huge this song is so spencer coded

warnings: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader, unsub / case entirely made up to avoid spoilers, protective!spencer, established relationship, secret relationship, mentions of guns, violence, blood, criminal minds in general

a team. the worst kind of conclusion to draw when you’re narrowing in on an unsub, or two in this case. two family annihilators that would stalk and learn the routines of their victims, the kills were usually quick and ruthless, in and out in a matter of minutes.

only this time, your team had gotten there right in time. derek dragged one unsub out the door while the other bolted down the stairs towards the basement. without thinking, you’re sprinting after him, unknowingly running straight into a trap.

you trip the moment you barrel through the door, flying head first down the flight of stairs and landing on the hard concrete with a hard thud.

dizzily, you get to your feet, clumsily reaching for your gun only to realise you dropped it on your way down. it’s dark, you’re disoriented, and most terrifyingly, you’re not alone down here.

a fact you’re abruptly reminded of when a cord is wrapped around your throat, pulling your back flush against the chest of the unsub you were hunting. the initial panic urges you to scramble, but your training kicks in and you manage the lodge your elbow right into his ribs making him drop the cable.

the same elbow connects with his jaw with a satisfying crack but he’s not going easily, using the hair at the back of your head as leverage to bash your head against a dust old desk.

the struggle goes on for what feels like hours, and you’re giving as good as you’re getting. with a successful knee to his groin you send the unsub tumbling to the ground, and right as he’s about to lunge at you a metallic click sounds from behind where you stand.

“one more step and i’ll empty my clip”

spencer reid, your favourite coworker who also happens to be your long time boyfriend, has his gun pointed at the unsub with one hand as the other reaches out to pull you behind him protectively.

in a matter of seconds tara is cuffing the dirtbag before you and hauling him up the stairs with the help of jj, leaving you and spencer in the dusty basement.

“I had it under control.”

“It was no problem, darling, honestly, no need to thank me” spencer teases, holstering his gun and taking your face in his hands to fully examine the extent of your injuries “you really think i was just gonna ignore the fact you ran after a killer and didn’t come back within sixty seconds?”

“i’m not some damsel in distress” you groan, letting him examine your face with no resistance “i can protect myself”

“i know.” spencer nods, using his thumb to swipe the blood away from your bottom lip “it’s not gonna stop me protecting you, though. sorry”

he can see through your faux annoyance. spencer knows just as much as you do that you like having him as your protector, it’s ‘his job’ as he put it.

though, his protectiveness has made hiding your relationship that bit trickier.

everyone on the team would take a bullet for each other, there was no doubt about it, but people hotch were beginning to notice that spencer often went above and beyond when it came to your safety.

like when the bau were being targeted, he never left your side, if you were sent to interview a suspect reid was right there with you. even if a joke was made at your expense, it wouldn’t be entertained by spencer.

sometimes you could pass it off as it being because you were a woman, because even though all the women on the team were more than capable, the men on the team had a fierce protective streak for them whether or not they knew.

“you’re so annoying..” you grumble, fighting a small smile.

“mhm” spencer chuckles, pressing a quick, light kiss to your head “i love you too, darling”

“oh!”

a squeak from tara has both of you whipping your heads in her direction, frozen in the mixture of fear and embarrassment that you’d just been caught out.

“well,” tara clears her throat and makes a poor attempt at concealing a grin “we’re all done here when you two are ready.”

[yourplaywright]

hey did someone say they want more babybee? i say as i shove someone out of the way.

i brought more…. so…. take it ig

“You’re going to get me in trouble!” Jazz hisses, picking B up. The bot dangles down like a roudy newbuild, crossed arms and pout included. Well, that makes sense, since nobody knows how old B is, though it can’t be more than 10 cycles with how underdeveloped some parts of his frame were.

“I was trying to help!” B cries, eyeridges furrowing. “How was I supposed to know that would happen?”

Jazz gestures wildly to the light fixture that, suspiciously, was now shattered and scattered on the floor. “The fact it was swinging didn’t clue you in?”

“Everyone deserves a chance!”

“It is— was— a fragging light!”

B’s shoulders slump. “‘m sorry, Jazz.”

“You should be,” he huffs, glaring at the younger bot through his visor. “Honestly, if you got hurt Elita would flip out. You aren’t, right?”

“Nope!” B gives him a thumbs up.

Jazz shakes his head, feelings simmering down. “I’m sorry for yelling, I just got stressed thinking you were hurt. Check in with Ratchet to make sure you didn’t cut yourself on any glass, alright?”

“Alright.”

—

“What do you mean you can’t find him?”

Elita levels him with a look. “You know what I mean. He’s not in Optimus’ office, he’s not trying to bother me, and Cliffjumper and Hotrod have been racing with Mirage all day.”

“Oh,” Jazz says. “Have you checked with Ratchet in the medbay?”

“Why would B be in the medbay?!”

Jazz raises his servos. “Hey, hey, calm down Dad. I told him to check in with Ratchet after he had a little accident, that’s all.”

“An accident?” Elita places her servos on her hips, looking less than convinced.

“He fell,” Jazz says, not technically lying. “He was totally fine, though, just thought he should get looked over.”

Elita’s face softens. He won’t be maimed, then. “Right. Well, you’re coming with me to check when Ratchet last saw him.”

“Sir, yes, sir!”

—

“B hasn’t been in for any checkups,” Ratchet says, scrolling through a datapad. “I think he’s been ignoring the developmental ones, too.”

“Oh,” says Jazz, who’s chance of being murdered have increased fivefold. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.” Ratchet sighs heavily, squinting at whatever he’s reading. “I need to take his inner energon samples to see if he still has that mineral deficency…”

“We’ll leave you to it, doc,” Elita says, smiling.

“Please don’t send Jazz back to me,” the medic deadpans.

Jazz laughs awkwardly and backs away. “I’ll go look over… here.”

Elita glares. “If I find him first, I’m cutting your pay.”

“If I do?”

“Your reward is survival.”

Jazz takes the hint, sprinting down the hallway.

—

B messed up. He messed up and Jazz was mad at him.

He covers his mouth to stifle another sob, curling up more. His frame hurts, glass shoved into delicate joints and under thin plating. His digits ache. It hurts and he deserves it, doesn’t he? He messed up, like he always does.

They’ll realise how useless he is and then they’ll send him back to sublevel 50 because that’s the best place for a useless glitch like him—

Above him, something creaks. He glances up and yelps quietly when he sees Laserbeak staring back at him.

“Wh- How did you get in here?”

Laserbeak chirps, hopping down and landing on his shoulder. He cringes a bit and the cassessete starts rumbling gently. 

“You really shouldn’t be here,” he mumbles, which just makes Laserbeak hunker down more. “Alright, alright.”

He shuffles to place the cassessete in his lap, messing with some of the kibble on his wings. “It’s a long way from the base,” he says. “Are you hungry?”

The cassessete hops around, doing an uncharacteristically obvious basic scan. B blinks, realising his own energon levels are low. “Oh.”

Laserbeak nudges his helm gently, before taking off out an open window he never noticed before.

“That’s one hidey hole compromised,” B says, standing up on shaky legs and sliding out of the storage room.

He presses himself against the wall as a blur of colour rushes by. He recognises the shades of blue, white, and black as belonging to Jazz. 

… he should probably help him.