#i prefer playing with you than against you

[carnalcrows]

SWEET AS SIN - THE SALESMAN

pairing: the salesman x ftm reader

synopsis: A humble baker’s life takes a dark turn when a mysterious customer becomes dangerously obsessed—until one night, he wakes up bound and trapped.

content warnings: 18+, dubcon (borderline noncon), reader has a vagina, gun play, squirting, drugging, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat.

word count: 1.0k

The first time you saw him, he was just another customer.

It had been a slow morning at your bakery, the scent of freshly baked bread filling the air as you wiped down the counter. The bell above the door jingled, and in walked a man in a crisp suit, his slicked-back hair perfectly in place. There was something oddly magnetic about him—the way he carried himself, the confidence in his steps, the way his piercing eyes scanned the shelves like he was hunting for something more than just bread.

“Morning,” you greeted, forcing yourself to break the silence. “What can I get you?”

He smiled—a sharp, calculated thing. “Something simple. A loaf, maybe.”

You nodded, wrapping up a warm loaf and placing it on the counter. He paid in cash, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed over the bills. His touch was cold, yet his grip lingered a second too long.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” he mused, glancing around as if memorizing every inch of the shop.

You shrugged. “Pays the bills.”

His eyes flickered back to you, something unreadable in them. “I’ll be seeing you again.”

It wasn’t a question.

And true to his word, he kept coming back.

Days turned into weeks, and the suited man became a regular.

He never gave his name. Never asked for anything specific. But each visit followed the same routine: a loaf of bread, a polite exchange, a lingering look that made your skin prickle with unease. He never overstayed his welcome, but his presence stayed with you long after he left.

There was something off about him. Something… unsettling.

And yet, you couldn’t deny the thrill that crept up your spine whenever he walked through your door.

One night, you closed up late. The streets were empty, the moon casting long shadows over the pavement as you locked the door behind you. You barely made it a few steps before a sharp prick stung your neck.

Your vision blurred. The world tilted.

And then—darkness.

When you woke up, the scent of flour and something metallic filled your nostrils. Your head throbbed, and as you tried to move, the unmistakable bite of rope burned against your wrists.

Panic shot through you. You were tied to a chair. The dim glow of candlelight flickered around the room, casting eerie shadows on the walls.

And then you saw him.

The salesman sat across from you, legs crossed, hands folded neatly in his lap. He was watching you, like a predator savoring the moment before the kill.

“Finally awake,” he murmured, tilting his head.

Your heart pounded. “What the fuck is this?”

He sighed, standing up and pacing toward you with slow, deliberate steps. “You must know by now. I’ve been watching you for weeks, admiring you… wanting you.”

Your breath hitched. The air was thick, suffocating.

“You kidnapped me.”

He hummed. “I prefer to think of it as… securing what’s mine.”

Your pulse roared in your ears as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to tilt your chin up. His touch was almost gentle—almost.

“You belong with me,” he murmured. “You just don’t see it yet.”

Your lips parted to curse him, to fight back, but then—click.

The cold press of metal pressed against the side of your temple.

A gun.

Your entire body went rigid.

“Shh,” he whispered, his other hand sliding to your throat, his grip firm but not tight. “No need to be scared.”

Scared? You were terrified.

But there was something worse—something worse than the fear, something you hated yourself for. The way his breath ghosted over your lips. The way his fingers pressed into your skin, possessive, demanding. The way the heat between you was suffocating, intoxicating.

And then—he kissed you.

It was slow at first, teasing, testing, his lips moving against yours with a dangerous kind of patience. The gun stayed at your temple, a silent warning, a reminder that he controlled everything. You wanted to recoil, to push him away, but your traitorous body betrayed you.

The kiss grew hungrier, his grip tightening as he deepened it. His teeth scraped against your lower lip, drawing a gasp from you.

He chuckled, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. “See? You fit so perfectly against me.”

Your breath was ragged, your mind a whirlwind of fear and something worse.

He roughly tugged down your pants and boxers, leaving your lower half exposed– making you shudder.

“Hm? What’s this?” he questions while his glance moves to your puffy cunt– leaking and gleaming with the dim light of the room. This certainly wasn’t something that he had expected.

Before you could answer– you took a sharp intake of breath. He had slid the gun from the side of your temple all the way to your pelvis– resting near the clit. Your heartbeat thundered in your ear drums, the fear and tension muddling up your brain.

He dragged the gun to your cunt at a painstakingly slow pace, before pushing the tip in. You moaned, your head falling back against the chair. God you hoped the gun wasn’t loaded.

Without waiting for you to take in a breath, the man pushed the gun almost all the way up your hole, making your thighs involuntarily cave inwards. He used his other hand to push your thighs back apart, as he watched with fascination as the dark metal worked its way in and out of your sopping wet cunt.

This was so, so, wrong– but then why did it feel so good?

The hand that was holding your thighs apart made its way to your clit– rubbing circles around the overstimulated bud. You writhed in the rope’s grasp– the pleasure being way too much

Soon– you felt your orgasm (whether you wanted it to happen or not), wash over you like a raging stream. You screamed as you practically squirted your release all over the man’s hand and his gun.

The man adjusted his posture before sliding the gun out of your cunt and pressing it back to your forehead, before bringing his other hand back to your face– pulling you in for another kiss.

“You’re mine now,” he murmured, trailing his lips down your jaw. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

The gun pressed just a little harder.

And deep down, you knew—there was no escaping him.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time, and I take genuine effort to do them.

[mingi-s-dimples]

Strictly Confidential - San

~"Hiii❤️Can you pls write one where you are the mafia San’s lawyer, but since you are kind hearted and innocent ( not naive) he got his eyes on you??Corruption kink, (iffff it’s ok with you reader can be a virgin), dirty talk (including how much he was longing for you and waiting to take you), mild bondage, possessiveness, (reader has a crush on San too but wouldn’t think San would even look at them), pampering reader while ripping them into half <3 thank youuu❤️" ~ sweetie you also added sth about pregnancy but unfortunately I don't write those😞 but I loved the idea so I just didn't add the pregnancy talk ^^ hope you like ittt 🤍

pairing: ceo!san x lawyer fem!reader

genre: filth, 18+

summary: your outfit is *just* a little bit too revealing for San to not react.. and later that evening, he drops on his knees for you, then he ruins you.

wc: 5.5k

warnings: ceo!san, possessive san, slightly controlling san, corruption kink *just slightly*, reader is a virgin, restraining/light bondage (her hands tied up with san's belt), office sex, he doesn't even bother to take her skirt off, san's desperate, he eats her out, multiple orgasms, cursing, dirty talk/degradation (slut), praising (good girl), ass spanking, face pushing (into the desk), pounding *literally*, vaginal sex, teasing, unprotected (booo use protection irl!), completely consensual!, for sure forgot something, might edit later.

Author's Note: why do I feel like this one is written better than my last San request..? either way y'all will see I DAMN enjoyed writing this one 😂 the detailssss sjsjshsuushs controlling san sjshshshs possessive san ajsjshhs and so on I'm biting my knuckles as we speak. I hope you all enjoy it ^^ ly guys 🎀

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member in any way.

You should’ve known the outfit would push him too far.

It wasn’t intentional—at least, not at first. The silk blouse, a shade too light, clung in ways that weren’t entirely professional, the top button left undone just enough to hint at something softer underneath. The skirt hugged your waist, cutting off at mid-thigh when you sat, revealing just a sliver more skin than usual. It wasn’t indecent. It wasn’t against the rules. But it was enough.

Enough to make Choi San snap.

You’ve been his lawyer for months now—long enough to know that he watches you more than he should. Long enough to catch the way his gaze lingers when you speak, dark eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up as if he didn’t mean to. Long enough to hear the shift in his voice when he says your name, the slow drag of it on his tongue.

You’ve known, and you’ve played along—just a little. Just enough to keep things interesting.

But today, something is different and you feel it the second you step into his office.

San is already standing, a rare thing given that he usually prefers to remain seated behind his desk, lazy and composed, as if the world itself is something he can toy with at his leisure. But now, he’s braced against the edge of his desk, arms crossed, eyes pinned on you the moment the door clicks shut behind you.

His silence is thick, crackling with something dark and unreadable.

Slowly, you set your leather portfolio onto the desk, tilting your head ever so slightly. “Something wrong, Mr. Choi?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, but it isn’t a smile. It’s something sharper. “Come here.”

A demand, not a request.

You raise a brow. “I thought we had business to discuss.”

“I won’t repeat myself.”

It’s a warning. A test.

And you should say no. You should keep things professional. You should sit in the chair across from his desk like you always do, open your portfolio, and get straight to business. But you don’t.

Instead, you take a step forward. Then another.

San stays perfectly still, watching, waiting, as if savoring the moment. When you finally stop in front of him, barely an arm’s length away, you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, the scent of leather and spice wrapping around you like a slow-burning fire.

He tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he’s about to dismantle. Then, his eyes drop—slow, deliberate.

Your blouse. Your throat. The delicate slope of your collarbone. The soft curve of your chest where the undone button reveals just a little too much.

His jaw tightens.

And just like that, you realize—he’s been holding himself back.

For months, he’s played this game with you, circling, waiting, indulging in stolen glances and veiled innuendos. But today, you’ve tipped the scales. Today, you’ve worn something that makes him forget to be careful.

San exhales through his nose, almost like he’s amused, almost like he’s irritated with himself. Then, without warning, he reaches out.

Fingers curl under your chin, tilting your face up.

“You did this on purpose.” His voice is low, rougher than before.

You don’t flinch. Don’t waver. Instead, you smile—slow, knowing. “Did what?”

San laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Cute.”

His thumb brushes over your jaw, barely a whisper of a touch, but the intent behind it is unmistakable. He’s testing. Measuring.

And you let him.

Because for all his power, for all his control—he’s the one unraveling.

His gaze dips to your lips, lingers there. When he speaks again, his voice is even lower, dangerously smooth.

“You walk in here looking like this and expect me to behave?”

“I expect you to be professional,” you say, and you make sure to let the words drip with teasing, with something that is not quite innocence but plays at the edges of it.

San hums. “Is that what you want?”

His fingers trail down, brushing the column of your throat.

You don’t answer.

Not with words.

Instead, you tilt your head slightly, just enough for his thumb to press against the hollow of your throat. Just enough to let him feel the pulse beneath your skin.

San stills.

Then—he moves.

One hand splays against your hip, gripping, tugging you closer until you’re barely a breath apart. His other hand trails up, slipping beneath the loose collar of your blouse, fingertips skimming over bare skin. It’s barely a touch, barely anything at all—yet it sets every nerve alight.

“You’re not as innocent as you look.” His voice is dark, laced with something dangerously indulgent.

You smile, lashes lowering just slightly. “I never said I was.”

San’s grip tightens.

And for the first time since you stepped into his office, you think you might have miscalculated.

Because you’ve been teasing him for months. Playing at the edges of this, knowing he wanted you but never letting him have enough to tip the scales.

But now?

Now, you can feel it—the shift, the moment he decides.

He isn’t going to let you play anymore.

You should resist.

You should step back, put distance between you and the man currently pressing you into the edge of his desk like he has every intention of keeping you there.

But you don’t.

Not really.

Instead, you let your hands press against his chest, the silk of his dress shirt warm beneath your fingertips. It’s a flimsy excuse for protest, a barrier that does nothing because you both know—if you really wanted to stop him, you would.

San catches the movement, and for a moment, he stills.

Dark eyes flicker to yours, sharp and assessing, scanning your face for something—hesitation, uncertainty, anything that might make him reconsider.

You arch a brow, lips curling just slightly. “A little desperate, aren’t we?”

San exhales sharply through his nose, and then—he laughs.

Low, rough, almost wrecked.

And then he moves.

Faster than you expect, pinning you between the hard edge of his desk and the even harder press of his body. His hand slides up, fingers catching your wrist, pressing your palm flat against his chest. The other settles low on your waist, fingertips digging in just enough to make your breath hitch.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs.

Your heart stutters.

Because you’ve had a crush on him for months.

Ever since you first met him, ever since you realized the sharp-edged CEO persona wasn’t just for show. He was powerful, ruthless, magnetic in a way that made people obey without question. And yet, he’d always been just a little different with you. Always watching, always waiting.

But you never let yourself believe he actually wanted you.

Not like this.

Not enough to snap.

San must see something in your expression, because his grip tightens. “You think I haven’t noticed?” His voice is smooth, but there’s something else beneath it—something rough, something frayed. “You think I haven’t seen the way you play with me?”

His lips brush against your cheek, not quite kissing, not quite touching, just a slow, maddening drag of heat.

“You walk into my office every week, looking like you don’t belong in a place like this, looking like you shouldn’t be anywhere near men like me.”

His mouth ghosts over your jaw, just shy of where you want him.

“And yet…” His hand slides lower, fingers teasing over the fabric of your skirt. “You always let me get too close.”

A slow, teasing exhale against your skin.

“You’ve been testing me, haven’t you?”

Your breath catches, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of an immediate response.

So instead, you tilt your head ever so slightly, forcing him to drag his lips against your skin in the process. “Maybe,” you whisper.

San curses under his breath.

And the next second he’s kissing you.

Hard. Desperate.

It’s not soft, not tentative—it’s months of restraint snapping like a live wire. His hand slides up, tangling in your hair, angling your head back to deepen the kiss, to take more. His tongue parts your lips, claiming your mouth with a hunger that makes your knees weak.

He kisses like he owns you. Like he’s been waiting for this, for you, for far too long.

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, pulling, clawing, needing more.

San groans against your lips, and then he’s pulling back just enough to look at you. His pupils are blown wide, his lips are red from kissing you, and he looks completely, utterly wrecked.

“I’ve waited for this.” His voice is rough, frayed with something unspoken. “You think I didn’t notice you? That I didn’t feel it every single time you walked through that door, acting so fucking innocent, knowing damn well what you were doing to me?”

His fingers tighten on your waist, like he’s barely holding himself back.

“I wanted to ruin you the moment I met you.”

Your breath shudders.

San notices. Smirks.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart?” His voice dips lower, teasing. “You want me to take what you’ve been tempting me with?”

You shouldn’t say yes.

You should make him work for it.

But the way he looks at you—the way his body presses against yours, the way his fingers trace slow, maddening circles over your hip—has you completely undone.

So instead, you breathe, “Yes.”

And that’s all it takes.

San makes a sound—something dark, something pleased—before his lips crash back against yours, hungry and unrelenting. His hands are everywhere, gripping, pressing, mapping out every inch of you like he wants to memorize it.

He kisses down your throat, sucks a mark into your skin, groaning when you arch into him. “Mine,” he murmurs against your collarbone. “You don’t get to tease me anymore. Not after this.”

You shudder, nails digging into his shoulders.

And then, finally, you surrender completely.

San doesn’t hesitate.

One moment, you’re standing against his desk, breathless from the force of his kiss, and the next—his hands are gripping your waist, lifting you with ease. A gasp slips past your lips as he sets you down onto the cool wooden surface, the shift in height making you acutely aware of how much he towers over you.

The movement sends half the contents of his desk crashing to the floor. A pen rolls somewhere unseen. Papers scatter in a careless mess. He doesn’t care.

Neither do you.

Not when his hands slide up your thighs, spreading them just enough to make space for himself between them. Not when his mouth crashes back onto yours, all heat and teeth, breathy and desperate, like he’s trying to devour you whole.

It’s overwhelming.

The way he kisses you—possessive, unrelenting, like he’s been starved for this, for you. His hands grip your waist, fingers digging in as if he’s anchoring himself to you, as if letting go isn’t an option.

And you—

You kiss him back just as fiercely.

Your hands find purchase in his suit jacket, tugging him closer, needing more, gasping softly when he presses flush against you. His warmth, his scent—everything about him consumes you.

Then—

You break away.

Not because you want to, but because there’s something you need to say.

Your chest rises and falls, lips kiss-bruised, head spinning. San doesn’t move away, his forehead pressing against yours, breath hot against your lips.

“What?” His voice is wrecked, strained with restraint he’s barely holding onto.

Your fingers tighten against his jacket.

“I—I’m a virgin.”

San stills.

Completely.

You watch as his expression shifts—dark eyes flickering with something unreadable, something dangerous. His grip on your waist tightens for a second before he stills again, as if forcing himself to process what you just said.

Then—

He exhales sharply, running his tongue along his bottom lip, and the slow, wicked curl of his mouth makes your stomach flip.

“Fuck.”

The word is low, rough, dragged out like he’s savoring it.

His hands move again, sliding over your thighs with newfound purpose, fingertips teasing against your exposed skin. He leans in, lips grazing over your jaw, down the column of your throat, tracing the shape of you with agonizing precision.

“You’re serious?” he murmurs against your skin.

You swallow hard, nodding.

San lets out another rough exhale, then pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. His pupils are blown wide, his expression dark with something unreadable, something deeply, deeply pleased.

“You have no idea,” he says slowly, deliberately, “what that does to me.”

Your breath hitches.

His lips find yours once more, but this time, the kiss is different. Slower, more calculated, yet no less intense. He kisses you like he’s savoring the moment, like he’s memorizing the way you taste, the way you respond to every touch, every shift of his body against yours.

His fingers trail up, reaching the buttons of your blouse, and he undoes them one by one, exposing more of you with every slow, deliberate flick of his hands. He doesn’t rush.

No—San takes his time.

And you let him.

Your breath stutters when he pushes the fabric aside, revealing bare skin, delicate lace. The cool air makes you shiver—or maybe it’s just him, the way his gaze darkens as he drinks in the sight of you.

He curses under his breath.

His fingers twitch like he wants to touch, to claim, to devour.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with something reverent, something wrecked.

And then—

He starts undoing his own buttons.

The sight alone has you utterly mesmerized.

You watch, transfixed, as he shrugs off his jacket, as he unbuttons his dress shirt, revealing inch after inch of smooth, sculpted skin. He moves slowly, almost teasingly, as if drawing out the moment just to watch your reaction.

And you—

You can’t help but stare.

San is unfairly gorgeous.

Broad shoulders, toned muscles, a physique that looks like it was carved by gods themselves. The way the soft glow of the office light catches against the lines of his body, the dips and curves of his abdomen, the sharp cut of his collarbones—it's intoxicating.

And then, your gaze drops lower.

And you freeze.

Oh.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling the full weight of his cock straining against his pants and pressing on your body.

San catches your reaction, and the smirk that pulls at his lips is nothing short of devastating.

“Mesmerized?” His voice is low, teasing, laced with amusement and something else—something darker.

You don’t answer.

Can’t.

Not when the heat of his body is so close, not when his fingers are still trailing over your skin, slow and deliberate.

And then, he leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers—

“You should be.”

San watches you like he’s already won.

Like you’ve been his from the moment you walked into his office, oblivious to the fire you were playing with.

His fingers trace along your exposed collarbone, slow and teasing, barely touching, but enough to make your skin prickle with heat. His eyes drag over you, dark and ravenous, taking in the way your chest rises and falls with every breath, the way your thighs are still parted for him, your skirt hiked up from how recklessly he had pulled you onto his desk.

Then—he smirks.

That slow, knowing smirk that makes something in your stomach coil tight.

“You really have no idea what you’ve done, do you?” His voice is deep, smooth as silk, but there’s a sharp edge to it.

You swallow, fingers curling against the desk, but you don’t answer.

He tilts his head, almost amused. “Showing up dressed like that—” His hands slide down, fingers skimming the fabric of your skirt, teasing at the hem. “Looking so damn innocent but wearing something like this? You were begging for it.”

Your breath catches, a slow heat creeping up your spine.

San leans in, lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Such a little whore, dressing like this just to test me.”

A sharp inhale leaves you.

He chuckles darkly, dragging his lips down to your neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your skin. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” His tongue flicks against your pulse point, his teeth scraping just enough to make your breath hitch. “Or were you hoping I’d lose control?”

His fingers tighten on your waist.

“Because you got exactly what you wanted.”

Your head spins.

He’s too much—his voice, his hands, the way he’s looking at you like he’s about to ruin you in ways you never even imagined.

San pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, and something dark flickers behind his eyes.

Then—

He gets an idea.

His smirk deepens as he looks over your shoulder at the discarded mess on the floor. Then, before you can question it, he steps back slightly, reaching down.

A soft rustle of fabric, the quiet slide of leather—

And then you see it.

The belt he had discarded with his pants that pooled at his ankles.

Your stomach flips.

San runs his tongue over his bottom lip, holding the belt loosely in one hand, testing the weight of it. Then, he meets your gaze again, and for the first time since this started—you shiver.

Possessive.

That’s the only word for the way he looks at you now.

Like you belong to him.

Like he’s about to make sure you never forget it.

“You’ve had too much freedom tonight,” he murmurs, stepping back into your space, the belt dangling from his fingers. “And I think it’s about time we fix that.”

Your pulse spikes.

San reaches for you, his hands trailing down your arms before he gently—so gently—grabs your wrists.

“Give them to me.”

It’s not a request.

It’s a command.

Your lips part slightly, but when you don’t immediately respond, San hums, tilting his head. “Oh?” He smirks. “Are you hesitating now?”

He presses closer, making you lean back slightly, making you feel the solid weight of his body.

“That’s cute.”

You swallow hard, the heat between you becoming unbearable.

San’s fingers tighten ever so slightly around your wrists. “I’ll tell you right now, sweetheart—” His voice dips, eyes locked onto yours. “If I tie you up, I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

A slow, deliberate pause.

Then, he leans in and whispers against your lips—

“You sure you can handle that?”

Your breath is shallow, chest rising and falling as San watches you, waiting. His fingers tighten around your wrists, the belt still dangling from his hand, ready to bind you, ready to claim every inch of control you’ve willingly given up.

And you—

You should hesitate.

You should resist, tease him a little longer.

But you don’t.

Instead, you tilt your chin up, meeting his gaze with a slow, deliberate smirk. “Do it, then.”

A flicker of something dark—dangerous—passes through his eyes. Then, his smirk returns, sharp and satisfied. “Good girl.”

The leather is cool against your skin as he pulls your wrists behind your back, looping the belt around them with practiced ease. It’s not too tight—just enough to hold you there, to remind you who’s in control.

He tugs once, testing the restraint, then hums in approval. “Perfect.”

Before you can process the way your body reacts to that single word, San moves.

His hands slide to your thighs, gripping firmly as he pulls you forward.

Hard.

A gasp leaves your lips as your body jerks, dragged right to the edge of the desk. Your legs part instinctively to accommodate the shift, your breath catching as you feel the undeniable heat of him between them.

San watches your reaction with a lazy smirk. “That’s better.”

Then—

He drops to his knees.

San doesn’t even look away from you as he does it, his movements deliberate, dripping with control. The sight alone—his broad shoulders between your legs, his dark, hungry gaze looking up at you like he’s about to devour you whole—leaves you breathless.

And then—his hands move again.

He doesn’t bother with your skirt.

No.

He slides his fingers along the inside of your thighs, parting them further, his grip firm—possessive. Then, with agonizing slowness, he hooks his fingers into your panties and pulls.

A soft, humiliatingly wet sound follows as he drags the fabric down, exposing just how ruined you already are.

San freezes.

And then—

He chuckles.

A low, deep sound that sends heat shooting straight through your spine.

“Fuck,” he exhales, pressing his thumb against the now-soaked fabric before tossing it somewhere behind him. “Look at you.”

Your face burns, but the way he’s looking at you—with pure, unfiltered hunger—makes shame the last thing on your mind.

Then—he leans in.

And without another word—

He dives in.

San doesn’t hold back.

The moment his mouth touches your folds, a wrecked gasp escapes your lips, your bound hands straining against the belt as your body jerks from the sheer heat of it.

He groans against you, the vibration making you shudder. His grip on your thighs tightens—bruising, possessive—as he presses you further against his mouth, like he’s determined to ruin you.

And he does.

His tongue moves with devastating precision—slow, languid strokes, teasing flicks, then firm pressure against your clit that makes your head spin. He eats you like a man starved, like he’s waited his entire life to have you like this, legs trembling around his shoulders, breathless and undone.

“Fuck,” he rasps, pulling back just enough to look at you. His lips glisten with your arousal, his dark eyes heavy-lidded, wrecked with hunger. “So fucking sweet.”

Your face burns, but before you can process it, he’s back on you, his tongue pressing in deeper, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

A broken whimper leaves you.

San chuckles—dark, teasing. He pulls back again, dragging his lips over the inside of your thigh, pressing slow, wet kisses against your skin. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice dripping with amusement and something deeper. “Fucking soaking. And all for me?”

You whine, shifting against his hold, but he doesn’t let up.

His teeth graze your thigh, just enough to make you gasp. “You pretend to be so innocent,” he murmurs, voice thick with heat, “but look at how filthy you are. Spreading your legs so easily, letting me taste you like this.”

Your breath stutters, shame and arousal tangling into something unbearable.

San hums, satisfied. “I bet you’ve thought about this, haven’t you?” He flicks his tongue against your clit again, making you jolt. “Bet you’ve thought about me bending you over this desk. Tearing you apart.”

His words wreck you.

A high, needy moan spills from your lips, your bound hands clenching behind you.

San groans against you. “That’s it,” he breathes, his tongue moving faster now, pushing you closer, higher. His fingers dig into your thighs as he holds you down, refusing to let you escape the pleasure he’s drowning you in.

Your body tightens, the pressure coiling in your stomach unbearably, winding, winding—

Until it snaps.

A sobbed moan rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of blinding pleasure. Your thighs tremble around his shoulders, your back arching as you cry out, utterly wrecked.

San doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re whimpering, twitching, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the overstimulation.

Only then does he slow, his tongue giving you one last, languid stroke before pulling back.

He looks ruined.

His lips are swollen, his hair slightly disheveled, his breath ragged as he stares at you, utterly transfixed. Then, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your thigh before standing.

Your dazed gaze drops—

And your breath catches.

His briefs are painfully tight around his cock, the sheer size of him making your stomach flip.

San curses under his breath, yanking them down in one swift motion.

And then—he’s on you.

His hands grip your thighs, spreading you further as he aligns himself, the heat of him pressing against your still-sensitive core.

Your breath stutters. “San—”

He doesn’t wait.

With one slow, deliberate thrust, he pushes inside—

And you break.

A cry rips from your lips, your body arching at the sheer stretch, the way he fills you so completely, so overwhelmingly. Tears prick at your eyes from the intensity of it, from the way he buries himself to the hilt, not moving, just feeling you.

San groans, his forehead pressing against yours, his hands tightening on your waist. “Fuck, baby.” His voice is wrecked, trembling with restraint. “You feel so—” He exhales sharply, dropping a kiss against your lips, almost tender.

He soothes you.

One hand trails up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice soft, but his body trembles against yours, barely holding himself back.

And then—he moves.

Destroying you.

Every thrust is deep, dragging against your sensitive walls with devastating precision, pushing you to the brink of insanity. Your bound hands twist behind you, desperate for something—anything—to hold onto, but there’s nothing.

Nothing but him.

And he knows it.

His grip tightens on your waist as he pulls back, making you feel every inch of him, before sinking in again—so deep, so full that you can’t stop the moan that spills from your lips.

San groans, the sound low and wrecked. “That’s it, baby,” he murmurs, dragging his lips along your jaw, kissing—nipping. “You hear yourself? You're a fucking whiny mess just for me.”

Your face burns, but the humiliation only makes the pleasure worse—makes your body clench around him, desperate for more.

San feels it. And he looses it.

A sharp growl rumbles from his chest as his pace stays agonizingly slow, but his words turn filthy, raw. “You’re so fucking tight,” he groans, rolling his hips deep, making you cry out. “Like you were made for me.”

You are.

The thought is dangerous, but it lingers.

San notices.

His fingers trail up your stomach, his touch warm, teasing, possessive. His other hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark, ravenous.

“You don’t even know what you’ve done to me,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your kiss-swollen lips. “Wearing that little outfit—acting all innocent when you’re dripping for me.”

His hips snap forward, a little harder, and you gasp.

San smirks. “Mhm. That’s what I thought.”

The teasing should make you flinch, should make you want to shy away—but you don’t.

Because you love it.

Because you love him like this—feral, corrupted, completely obsessed with you.

Your moans break into whimpers as his thrusts turn deeper, sharper, but still so slow, so cruelly controlled that your body starts trembling. “San—”

He shushes you.

His lips brush over your temple, soft in contrast to the way he’s utterly wrecking you. “I know, baby,” he murmurs. “I know.”

And yet—

It’s not enough.

For him.

For you.

San curses under his breath, frustration clear in the way his fingers tighten on your waist. “I can’t—” His breath is ragged. “I can’t fucking hold back.”

Before you can process—

San moves.

His grip locks around you, lifting you like you weigh nothing. Your back hits the desk, but before you can fully catch your breath, he flips you over.

Your palms slam against the your back, the belt still binding them, your cheek pressing into the cool surface as San forces you down, arching you for him.

A sharp sound echoes in the room.

You gasp.

San’s palm stays on your ass where he just spanked you, rubbing over the heated skin, his breath heavy behind you. “Mhm,” he hums, dark, pleased.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“That’s more like it.”

Your body is trembling—wrecked, pinned under San’s weight as he presses you against the desk, his grip firm on your waist. His breath is heavy, hot against your skin, his patience fraying with every second.

And then—

You say it.

A teasing little whisper, breathless, barely a murmur—

“San.. you can go- harder.”

A guttural growl rips from his throat, and then—he ruins you.

His grip tightens bruisingly on your hips as he slams into you, deep and relentless, each thrust sharp, overwhelming, making you choke on your own moans.

He pounds into you, his cock pushing impossibly deep, so deep that— He hits your cervix.

A sharp cry tears from your throat, your bound hands clenching behind you as the intense stimulation sends a wave of pleasurable pain crashing over you.

San hears it. Feels it. Loses it.

“Yeah?” he rasps, voice wrecked, his pace punishing. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” He thrusts harder, making you wail. “Wanted me to break you?”

The way he’s holding you—gripping your waist tight, pressing you down deep into the desk, his chest flush against your back as he fucks into you like he’s starving—

It’s too much.

He feels the way you tremble beneath him, the way your body clings to him, drawing him in, taking everything he gives.

His breath is ragged, his groans turning into curses.

“Fucking perfect,” he growls, his thrusts becoming desperate. “So fucking tight, so fucking wet—”

He grips your wrists, still bound behind your back, and pulls, arching you further, making your back bow into him, making you yake him deeper.

A wrecked sob escapes you.

San curses. “That’s it,” he groans, his voice breaking. “Fucking take it.”

He pounds into you, hips snapping, rhythm frenzied, his cock hitting that spot over and over until you’re a mess beneath him—whimpering, crying, begging.

And you could swear he fucking loves it.

“Listen to you,” he pants, his lips brushing over your ear, his breath ragged. “Crying for me—so desperate.”

You are. But he’s no better.

His grip tightens, his thrusts turning frantic, his moans growing shaky, and you can inly feel how damn close he is. And he knows it.

His pace falters for half a second—just long enough for him to lean over you, his lips grazing your ear as he breathes, voice dark, rough, possession dripping from every word—.

“I’ll fill you up just like you’ve probably been fantasizing over for a while, you little slut.”

And then—

He breaks.

A deep, wrecked moan tears from his chest as he thrusts deep, his body shuddering violently as he spills into you, warmth flooding your insides as his grip on your wrists turns almost bruising.

But he doesn’t stop.

Even as he comes, he keeps moving, keeps pounding into you, pushing you over the edge right after him.

Your body shatters.

A high, sobbed moan rips from your throat as pleasure crashes over you, your walls tightening, pulsing around him, drawing out his own orgasm, making him groan, curse, whisper filth and praise against your skin.

You gasp his name—

And San loses himself all over again.

His hips slow, his body shuddering as he rides both of you through your highs, his lips pressing against your shoulder, your spine, soothing you while still wrecking you.

You could barely move.

Your arms are still bound, your body limp against the desk, your breath coming in ragged, exhausted gasps.

San finally stills.

His chest rises and falls against your back, his grip on your wrists loosening, his breath hot against your skin.

And then—

A satisfied, dark chuckle rumbles from his chest.

“That’s my girl.”

San exhales, his grip softening as he slowly lifts you into his arms, cradling you against his chest. His hands are gentle now, his touch the exact opposite of how he just wrecked you. With careful precision, he sets you down on the desk, his fingers immediately moving to untie your wrists.

The moment they’re free, he brings them to his lips, kissing the delicate skin as if to soothe away any marks left behind. His gaze meets yours, still dark, still possessive, but now filled with something softer.

A smirk tugs at his lips. “Can’t have you walking out of here looking like this, baby.”

Before you can respond, he grabs your blouse from where it was discarded, slipping it over your shoulders, his touch slow, careful, reverent. His fingers linger as he buttons it up, his eyes roaming your body like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

Then, he leans in, kissing you.

Deep, slow, lingering. Like he’s still not ready to let go.

When he pulls back, his thumb brushes your lips, his voice a low murmur. “Come on,” he says. “We’re taking a shower.”

Your brows raise slightly. “Here?”

San chuckles, shaking his head. “Not in the office, baby.” He eyes you, his woman, his masterpiece, before smirking. “And I’m sure as hell not letting anyone see you like this on our way there.”

You laugh, amused by his protectiveness, and his smirk widens.

“Laugh all you want,” he muses, scooping you up again. “But you’re mine. And I don’t share.”

NETWORKS:

@blossomnet

@illusionnet

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@mingleshine @musiclovingfairy @crazylittlebisexual @sanhwalvr @artistic-rendition @hongjoongtime117 @cypher-03 @peachy-bell26 @atiny1 @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @atzlordz @chai0tea @miyaluvvsyou

[latanyalove]

My Goal

Summary: Sanji's goal after finding the All Blue was you. Who knew you were harder than his main goal.

Song: House Of Balloons / Glass Table Girls by The Weeknd

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

In the sweltering kitchen of the Thousand Sunny, Sanji's eyes never failed to wander from the sizzling pans to the sultry sway of your hips as you navigated the cramped quarters with a grace that seemed to mock the chaos of a pirate ship.

His flirtations were as relentless as the sea, each one a tiny wave that crashed against the shore of your indifference. The first time he'd tried, you'd been chopping vegetables, your eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

He sailed in with a compliment, smoother than the whiskey he'd once pilfered from a Marines' ship.

"Your knife skills are sharper than my wit," he'd quipped, a rakish smile playing on his lips.

You, however, remained unfazed, not even bothering to look up from your cutting board. "And your wit is as dull as a marlin's," you replied, the blade of your knife glinting in the dim light as you sliced through a particularly tough piece of meat.

Sanji's smile had faltered, but only for a moment.

The second rejection came as you were both navigating the treacherous waters of a storm. Sanji had grabbed the ropes with a dramatic flair, muscles bulging beneath his wet shirt, and shouted to the heavens about his love for the sea and all its mysteries.

He'd glanced at you, expecting some form of admiration, perhaps even a blush to color your cheeks.

Instead, you'd rolled your eyes, your water manipulation devil fruit keeping you as dry as a bone, and said, "If you're going to be so dramatic, maybe you should join a theater troupe instead of a pirate crew."

He'd stumbled over his words, the rain beating a hasty retreat from his flustered face. Yet, his determination was as unyielding as the storm itself.

The third attempt was during a rare moment of respite on a tranquil island. As you lay on the beach, soaking in the sun, Sanji approached with a coconut drink, the straw adorned with a tiny paper parasol.

"For the most enchanting mermaid I've ever laid eyes on," he'd purred, leaning over you with a hopeful gaze.

With a sigh, you'd taken the drink, sipped it slowly, and said, "Thanks, but I prefer my beverages without a side of desperation."

His cheeks had reddened, but he hadn't moved, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air where the coconut had been.

The fourth rejection came as you both scaled the rigging to unfurl the sails. Sanji had tried to be suave, calling you "my lady of the sea," his voice carrying over the wind. You'd laughed, the sound as cool as the ocean breeze that whipped through your hair.

"Save it for someone who's actually impressed by your cheesy lines," you said, reaching for the rope with a deftness that belied your strength.

Each rejection was met with a different reaction from Sanji. Sometimes, he'd feign indifference, other times he'd laugh it off, and once he'd even pouted like a scolded child.

But the fifth time… ah, the fifth time was different.

It was as if the stars had aligned, the sea had whispered a secret into your ear, and you found yourself in a peculiar mood.

The sun had set, casting a warm glow on the ship's wooden deck. You'd been lost in thought, the gentle rocking of the waves lulling you into a sense of peace.

Sanji had approached you, his usual flirtatious grin replaced by a tentative smile.

"I know I've said this before," he began, his voice low and earnest, "but you truly are the most captivating person I've ever met."

For a moment, something in your chest fluttered like a trapped bird, and your eyes met his with a softness that surprised you both. The air between you thickened, charged with a tension that hadn't been there before.

And then, with a smirk that held a hint of mischief, you leaned in close and whispered, "Alright, you win this round, Prince."

And so, it was in that moment of unexpected surrender that Sanji's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and excitement.

His hand, which had been resting casually on the railing, reached for yours, his fingertips brushing against your skin with the gentleness of a butterfly's wings.

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a sensation that was as foreign to you as the concept of mercy in a pirate's world.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispered, "I promise to make you feel like the most cherished treasure in all the Grand Line."

His words, though spoken softly, carried the weight of a thousand unsaid confessions and the promise of a passion that had been burning for eons.

You felt your resolve crumble like the sand beneath the relentless waves of his charm, and with a smoldering gaze, you allowed him to pull you into an embrace that was as fiery as the sunsets you'd seen together.

As your bodies melded together, the ship's timbers seemed to groan in approval, the very air around you crackling with the electricity of your newfound connection.

Sanji's hands roamed your curves with a reverence that spoke of his longing, each caress leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your heart raced in your chest, pounding in time with the rhythm of the waves, and you found yourself responding to his advances with a fervor that shocked even you.

Your lips met in a kiss that was as deep and vast as the ocean itself, a silent declaration of the tumultuous emotions that had been brewing beneath the surface for so long.

The saltwater of the sea kissed your skin as the two of you tumbled onto the deck, the planks groaning beneath your weight as you gave in to the tempest of desire that had been building for what felt like an eternity.

Sanji's mouth traveled from your lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the soft flesh there as he nipped and sucked, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as you sought to deepen the kiss.

The taste of him was like nothing you had ever experienced, a heady blend of sweat, sea salt, and a hint of the spices that were his culinary trademark.

Your bodies moved in a dance as ancient as the tides, each touch and caress a silent promise of what was to come. Sanji's hands slipped beneath your shirt, his calloused thumbs tracing the delicate line of your collarbone, sending shivers through your body.

Your own hands roamed his broad chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the steady thump of his heart, a drumbeat to the symphony of your growing need.

The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the tempest of passion that had been brewing for so long. The gentle rocking of the Thousand Sunny became the rhythm to which your bodies swayed, a metronome to the crescendo of your desire.

Sanji's kisses grew more insistent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pulled away to gaze into your eyes, the hunger in his gaze mirroring the ache in your core.

With a groan that was as primal as the sea, he lifted you into his arms and carried you below deck, the urgency in his movements belying the tenderness of his touch.

The door to your cabin slammed shut, the sound echoing through the corridor, leaving no doubt as to the intention of the pirate chef. He laid you down on your bed, the soft mattress enveloping you like a gentle embrace from Neptune himself.

The scent of the ocean and the faint hint of his cologne filled the small space, mingling with the heady aroma of your own desire.

Sanji's kisses grew more demanding as he traced a path down your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving a trail of fire that ignited every nerve ending.

His hands, once so gentle, grew bolder, exploring the curves of your body with a hunger that seemed insatiable. You felt your own hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

As the fabric fell away, you gasped at the sight of his sculpted chest, the muscles rippling like the waves you both knew so well.

Your fingers danced over his abs, tracing the lines of his taut muscles as if mapping the treacherous waters of the Grand Line. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you, sending a wave of need crashing through your body.

His hands found their way to the ties of your pants, deftly untying the knots with the same skill he used to navigate the ship. As the fabric fell away, you were laid bare before him, vulnerable as a shipwrecked sailor adrift in a sea of passion.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his goal, his prize, finally within his grasp. He kissed you again, his tongue delving deep, mimicking the rhythm of the tides that pulled at the ship.

His hands moved with purpose, untying the strings of your bikini top, freeing your breasts to the coolness of the night air.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight, his eyes devouring you like a starving man before his mouth followed, his kisses a sweet agony that had you arching into him. . . . .

[fanged-fanfics]

Hello! If it's not too much to ask, can you do the TFP Decepticons with a femme Cybertronian [(S/O) or platonic] that's like Rouge The Bat from Sonic? In terms of personality and her being a thief?

☆ Stolen Sparks — TFP Decepticons x Fem Reader HCs ☆

Genre: Fluff || she/her pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: There's more than just Megatron in the post I promise I'm just using him as the fic image cause I couldn't find a picture with all the Decepticons I included 😭

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Megatron:

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Despite his attempts, Megatron could never seem to track you down for long. You kept evading his notice, working as a rogue and stealing from whoever you please. It annoyed him at first... but he found his feelings shifting

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He was intrigued by you before long. What did you want for, were you working for someone else or purely yourself? A faction of thieves, maybe? He became determined to get to know you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 To your surprise, he could out-maneuver you. Turns and tricks that usually worked would get you caught, and you found yourself intrigued above all else. Though you loved to give up a chase, you couldn't resist humoring his conversation

ᯓᡣ𐭩 If he were being honest, it was more than just your efficiency to fulfill your own gain that pulled him in. It was the glances, the claws you'd trail against his plating, the flirting. It consumed his processor entirely, and he felt a drive to be close to you because of it, to experience it all over again every day

Starscream:

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Starscream was a bit harder to charm, he saw you as a direct threat to his reign and someone who could bring down what he's been working so hard to build

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Your cooing and little snarky comments made him irritated the most, and he was determined to find a way to stop your meddling. He talked about you constantly, always thinking about your next move, and always thinking of you over the littlest things

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It took some external prodding from Knockout for him to come to the sudden realization that he'd become infatuated with you. He couldn't help it, but he had no idea how it managed to sneak up on him. How you so effortlessly stole his spark like you'd done to countless treasures

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It wasn't long before you could pick on him about fumbling in battles and suddenly losing what little composer he had. He just couldn't focus anymore, because now when you got in his face to tease, all he could think of was the proximity of your frames

Soundwave:

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You thought it a fun challenge to see if you could get some sort of reaction out of the notoriously stoic Decepticon, but he never once spoke a word to you, no matter how many little jabs you gave him

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He spoke more with actions. He always knew your next move, and had plenty of Cassettes to set you back if you got out of line or threatened Megatron's cause. Other than that, he seemed more passive towards you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You were surprised when you began finding trinkets and treasures being practically gifted to you. They were left out in obvious spots around your usual stops, and sometimes you'd catch a glimpse of the Officer warding off other bots who tried to pick them up before you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You would start back up chatting at Soundwave, noting the little signs he gave in body language and his gifts that he'd been paying attention to your preferences. He didn't respond to any flirting outwardly, but definitely never shied away from your words

Shockwave:

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The logical but completely amoral, getting ahead of Shockwave was nearly impossible. He didn't rise to any of your bait, disabled any traps, and even mocked back when you goaded him

ᯓᡣ𐭩 With his unyielding stoicism, you were more than a little convinced that you were always the winner of your little play-fights, since he seemed to completely miss any hint you threw at him

ᯓᡣ𐭩 What you learned after he won a small scuffle between you two is you weren't the only one playing this little game. Intellectual challenges are where Shockwave excelled, and him letting you win was to prolong this habit you shared, of challenging the other into doing their best

ᯓᡣ𐭩 You both agree to mutually maintain this system for as long as possible, chasing each other in this friendly war of tactics that honestly has made you feel closer to the scientist than ever, especially when he reciprocates your sly remarks

Airachnid:

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Running into the spidery fembot was a dangerous bet— you'd heard plenty about what she was capable of, and you always tried to keep on your best wits when around anything she considered her territory

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When Airachid inevitably did catch you, she was surprisingly not keen on the though of tearing you apart. Instead, she told you all the potential she saw in you, and all the success you two could have when working together

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Whether you agree or deny, she's always in your plans from that day forth. Either by aiding your work and complimenting your efficiency, or by undermining your plans the same way you always do to others

ᯓᡣ𐭩 In cooperation or opposition, you two are evenly matched. Airachnid knows how to trip you up, and you know how to evade her fangs. No matter what you pick, she finds you alluring, and desires to someday have you as her own little treat

[pinksugarberries]

Random se-mi hcs (no game au)

₊ ⁺ ⊹ ₊ ⁺ ⊹

﹒　૮꒰◞ ◟ ꒱ა　⸝　new upload!　❜

　　　˚　　　　　➺　　　　　❀

　⸝⸝　　◦　　tags: regular gay se-mi glaze, facial piercings, smutty parts, hair pulling, mentions of smoking, fictional death, reader and se-mi are switches during freaky time, female reader intended, brat tamer

　⸝⸝　　◦　　a/n: hey chat i don’t really know what people out here uhhhhh im gay ok yeah let’s get start

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SFW

she likes listening to chase alantic to give her a ego boost after something really embarrassing happens or she breaks up with someone

she owns over 30 hoodies and justifies it as “i just run cold…! why are you judging me?”

she owns a nintendo and plays animal crossing (her favorite character is coco or wolfgang) i feel like she has a toxic relationship with fortnite (im NOT projecting..) like she hates it but she just continues to go back. “one more game”

if she’d ever play stardew valley, she would marry abigail (IFYKYK)

she likes plants and flowers and her favorite flower is a hyacinth

whenever some makes her mad secretly, in the middle of the night will boot up sims, make a sim that looks like the person and kill them. (she prefers drowning BUT lighting fires is also a good choice)

she HATES the people who uses the strawberry poundcake body mist excessively. it makes her get a headache and her nose gets all tingly

she likes cooking but she’s impatient and bluntly sucks at it. if she’s cooking at someone’s house they would probably say “what is burning?”

romantic but sucks at being romantic, please help this girl :(

gets her nails painted, or she does them herself. she really likes burgundy and black so she would do those colors :-)

she owns over 10 chokers that look the same but are for different occasions

ok the time you FREAKS have been waiting for

smokes, but only when she’s stressed

NSFW

definitely talks you through it, but more degrading words than anything.

remember that tongue piercing that i said he has in my last blog? yeah, she uses that to arouse you even more whine she’s EATING you out.

slurps ever single drop of cum after she’s done

adores your tits, and also convinced you to get pierced, now they are even more sensitive for her to play and fondle with while you’re fucking her brains out, or the opposite, while she has her strap on, she loves to see them bounce around, usually letting you get on top of her.

when she’s doming, she is mostly gentle, but she will continue to get rougher and rougher. if she hasn’t made you a crying, whimpering, and shaking mess than she hasn’t done her job correctly.

her favorite position is definitely doggystyle or missionary while she’s doming you

she LOVES shower sex. like completely adores it.

she definitely owns a 8 inch black strap and dicks you DOWNNNNN with it. can’t prove me other wise…

now while your doming HER, she could be a blushing, squirming mess,

you’re even more of a brat while your doming her and it pisses her off SO much…

you grab her choker while your rubbing your clit against hers

while you’re eating your DELICIOUS meal (her punani) you occasionally stick a few fingers in, 4 max and it makes her go INSANE. makes her cum instantly all over your face

when she’s giving you the MEANEST most DEEP backshots, she likes to pull your hair and smack your ass. a little too much but it’s ok because it’s se-mi :-)

[gorgeys]

i need to see baddie!reader and jackie during practice. like imagine jackie staring at you the whole time and acting all smitten around you or staring at you while you change but not in a pervy way. she’s just admiring the view 🙂‍↕️

jackie taylor x 90sbaddie!fem!reader at soccer practice a/n: i know you said not in a pervy way but i think i accidentally made it a lil bit pervy...

jackie's always the first one on the field and the last to leave. it's just a part of what she considers her captain duties. this particular time, she's sitting beside shauna on the bench, waiting for the rest of the team to emerge from the locker room.

shauna's telling her about the math test, and jackie nods along, listening intently.  that is, until, she catches sight of you over shauna's shoulder.

she's seen you in your practice jersey and soccer shorts about a million times by now, but her heart still stops each and every time.  suddenly, calculus has left her mind entirely, and all she can focus on is your beautiful hair cleanly slicked back into a low ponytail, giving her a full view of your perfect face, and the subtle sway of your hips as you walk.

jackie's so focused on you, she forgets how to swallow and ends up choking on her water.  she nearly spits it out all over shauna, but she forces it down and endures a terrible coughing fit instead.  shauna pauses mid sentence and sends her a look.

"um, are you okay?"

"mhmm," jackie hums, nodding frantically and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

she doesn't say anything more before she gets up, grabs a stack of cones off the turf, and practically skips over to you.

"hey, y/n!" she says with a grin, falling into stride beside you.  "can you help me set up this drill?" she asks, handing you half the cones.

you willfully ignore the fact that she was just with shauna, who probably would've been more help than you, and accept the cones from her hand.  she makes sure to hand them to you in such a way that your fingers brush against hers.  she almost sighs at how soft your skin is and feels her hand tingling where your acrylic nails subtly scraped her.

"yeah, of course, jax," you say, smiling back. her heart flutters in her chest when she hears her nickname leave your lips.

it turns out "helping" meant setting up everything yourself while jackie followed you around like a well-trained puppy, instructing you where to place each cone, but mostly asking about your day and giggling at everything little thing that you said.  you certainly didn't mind it.  in fact, you preferred it to your usual routine.

once practice begins, jackie can't think straight (literally!).

usually when coach martinez is talking, she's laser-focused on him.  but now, her eyes stray to the side where you're standing with your hands perched on your hips.

jackie swears her heart begins to race when you shift your weight to one side and absentmindedly take your bottom lip between your teeth.  she finds herself fantasizing (for the hundreth time) about how your plump lips would feel against hers.

everything else becomes background noise as her love-sick brain plays "kiss me" by sixpence none the richer while perceiving each of your subtle movements in slow-motion.  that is until she hears a shout of her name and her head whips back toward martinez.

"go ahead and give us a demonstration, jackie" coach martinez says, looking right at her.  she feels everyone turn their attention toward her, you included.

"oh, umm..." jackie trails off, gaze quickly flickering over to you just as you release your lip and it pops back into place.  damn you and those lips!  "okay!" she says walking toward one of the cones and trying to deduce what drill this could possibly be.

it's all your fault that she's so distracted for the rest of practice.  she misses a pass because she's watching you jog across the field all sweaty and graceful. and then she trips over the next ball because she's too busy thinking about how perfect you looked jogging across the field.

"what the fuck was that, jackie?" nat shouts from the endline, throwing her hands into the air.

jackie opens her mouth to respond, but you beat her to the punch.

"hey, give her a break," you say from behind natalie, grabbing her arm.  "we all have bad days," you shrug.

nat grumbles something under breath before shaking her arm out of your grip and stomping away.  you look over at jackie from across the field and give her your best encouraging smile.

jackie is ready to get down on one knee and propose to you right then and there, but she settles for a bashful "thanks" during the next water break.  she makes sure to squeeze your shoulder as she says it just so her thumb can brush over the damp skin of your collarbone.

"anytime," you say, squirting some water into your mouth.  you miss jackie's hungry stare as you do so.  "i know you'd do the same for me."

oh, she'd definitely do the same and more.

when the team is ready to scrimmage, jackie makes the two teams by counting everyone off.  she makes sure to remember the number she gives you and gives herself the same one once she's done counting.

"oh my god, we're on the same team?" jackie exclaims, feigning surprise as she waltzes over to you.  "no way!"

when you score a goal, she uses the moment to her advantage.

"yes, y/n!" she shouts, enthusiastically running over to you and sweeping you into her arms.  you're forced onto your tip toes as her bone crushing grip nearly picks you up and off the ground.  you laugh at the gesture, music to jackie's ear, but everyone else stares at the two of you confused.

"it's not that serious, it's just a scrimmage..." tai says, voicing what everyone was thinking.

"so?" jackie whips her head around to meet tai with a glare.  her arm is still intentionally encircling your waist.  "we need to have more spirit, guys!  come on!"

she only splits from your side when the ball comes back into play, though a smile stays fixed on her lips as she replays your adorable laughter in her head for the rest of practice.

"you were so good today!" she says to you once practice is over.  it doesn't matter if it's true or not, her smile shows she's too smitten to care.

she walks you back into the locker room, eyes flickering down to the hand at your side every few seconds.  she wants nothing more than to lock it with hers and feel your warmth directly.

once inside the locker room, you don't stop talking, even as you change.

you lift your practice jersey over your head in one swift motion, never breaking conversation.  luckily you're not looking over at jackie because her eyes are glued to your chest and stomach, now only covered by a sports bra.  she's practically drooling and if she didn't have self-control, her hands would already be imprinting themselves on your skin.

you tug on the fitted crop top with the low v-neck you had been wearing earlier, and somehow your tits look even better than they did when you were shirtless.  jackie has to literally shake her head in an attempt to shake the thoughts from her brain.  it doesn't work.

she goes mute when you slide your soccer shorts off.  in a state of pure panic, she really tries to keep her gaze fixed straight ahead on the lockers. she really, really tries.  but you have to go on and ruin it by mumbling:

"ugh, i forgot to wear spandex today!"

jackie glances over just as your shorts pool around your feet and holy shit.  how did you even play soccer in those slutty little panties?

when you seem to turn toward her, she diverts her gaze back to the lockers.

"uh, jackie?" you ask when she doesn't respond to what you've just said.  she can see you turned fully toward her in her peripheral vision and suddenly her mouth is uncomfortably dry.

"oh, sorry, i'm just a little...out of it today.  what did you say?" she asks, looking over at you and using all her strength to keep her eyes on your face.  still, she manages to catch a glance of you wiggling on your favorite pair of jeans that are baggy everywhere but around your hips. jackie knows that from her previous leering.

her eyes flit down as you expertly fasten your belt, your fingers deftly moving like clockwork, and she can't suppress the fleeting thought about what else those fingers could do.

when it's time to leave, her heart aches because there's nothing worse than not seeing you until the next day.  she'll fall asleep that night thinking of how you defended her to nat and how warm you felt in her embrace (and maybe even stick her hand between her legs to the image of you in your itty bitty panties) , feeling giddy to make more memories with you tomorrow at practice.

[randomperson0k]

serpentine rising au designs of the early ninja [first few years of being ninja id say? these are their 'early days' designs in my timeline]

oh also the serpentine rising name is a inside joke . its not serpentine focused its just my ninjago rewrite au

you can read all the info belowww if you wanttt toooo swiggly face smiley face.

its still early development so theyre not set in stone and i will change things

ive had this art ready for awhile but ive spent like a week writing the stuff below

general setting info -

im a huge sucker for sloppy overused hollywood tropes and ruining things with my personal preferences in media so ! the ninjas identitys arent known. they keep them secret. and they all go to highschool in the beginning [except lloyd hes too young to be in highschool ] like the ninjago movie. i suck. but also like give those ninja a proper education i do NOT trust wu with doing that he is not reliable

serpentine and oni and all other species that are villains just because they are that species [example - the oni and the serpentine in the early seasons] are no longer villains just because they are born from that species. yay! making an entire species all villains just because theyre apart of that species is super boring so its getting eradicated now. 'theyre all evil unless they learn how to not be evil like mystake did with her being a oni and learning how to be good' booooooo BOOOOOOOOOOOOO TOMATO TOMATO TOMATO 🍅🍅🍅 why does that tomato look so weird what

garmadon isnt the pilot villain [hes only referenced by his skeleton army but he never actually appears or is heavily brought up] and hes a very built up villain and is referenced a lot by others to build up a big image for him before hes revealed and he only appears much later on. ninjago drags his dead corpse around too much let than old man REST. also im tired of season 97 about garmadon and lloyds relationship SNOREEEE .also i find it so funny that lloyd is more upset at misako than garmadon when they reunite like hydrogen bomb vs coughing baby type situation garmadon has probably killed thousands and put mass genocide and ruling the world infront of his priority list instead of putting lloyd at the front whilst misako got flashbanged by her sons radioactive eyes and cried herself to sleep . there is a huge difference here

most species + other established places have different languages. theres no way they all speak the same language i know its just because its a kids show and it needs to be dumbed down but cmon it would be more fun . so yeah most have different languages and they all have more built upon cultures which are explored in episodes like the ninjago mail episodes where you get to see a look into civilian life whilst the story still plays out. its like that but with other places and characters we've seen from them

also im just calling ninjagos language common because i forgot the actual language name

pythor is released first and he releases the rest of the serpentine and sticks with lloyd until all of them are released and then betrays him . and the final battle with the great devourer is the serpentine with the war + great devourer vs the ninja + the serpentine against the war .

im still working on it but i have most of my ideas sorted for the pilot , morro and the serpentine

oh yeah speaking of morro uhhh the ghost realm i forgot the name is MUCH more eldritchy. ive been given a living physical embodiment of a realm of the dead to play around with . what else am i supposed to do with that. not make it creepy and a hivemind like creature that affects every soul it can get its tentacles on ??? cmon. so yeah morro and all the ghosts are corrupted by the preeminent and i want to explore morro and lloyds dynamic more because it has so much potential . imagine seeing your mentor replace you with somebody else and they get to be the thing you dreamed every day to be but theyre just a kid and they dont know and theyre so happy but youre so angry and they took everything from you but they dont know they did but you cant control yourself because theres a Thing in your head and its also Very Angry. ya. so i want to explore that more yes. morro had interesting motivations and i like his character . so when the preeminent is defeated morro comes back as a regular uncorrupted ghost and he gets therapy good on him

since garmadon doesnt come around until much later + im trying to limit down on repeat villains like the overlord and stuff a lot of the season villains are either going to be swapped around and switched or heavily changed. and so far im not considering any to be but if i have to i might completely remove certain villains if i truely cant find a spot for them. basically im just blowing up the entire ninjago timeline

elemental powers work in the way that base level elemental power is being able to manipulate existing material and like final form elemental power is being able to create that elemental power from nothing [something something 'most elemental powers branch from dragons who are the element of creation' etc etc]. depending on the power the stages can be more difficult to reach. like for jay with his element he can make his own electricity without outside assistance [such as elemental weapons, being a conduit or just. fusing with your element like nya did] really easily but the side effect is his control of it is somewhat more unstable because his power is just that strong. whilst for somebody like nya or lloyd creating their element from nothing is extremely hard and would take decades of training to master so they have the weakness of just having to stick to stick to manipulating existing forms of their element instead of creating them from nothing.

~~~~~

lloyd - you annoy me but i love you equally as much

considering making him woke idk i just want to piss off those ninjago fans with theythem lloyd . shoves pipebomb up ur butt night night chat!!! . ]

uhh i actually dont have his age set down yet im kinda unsure about it but hes younger than 10 years old yes. but he looks a lot younger than he is because he ages slower than a normal human

basics we all know hes a oni/dragon/human yah. master of energy yadaaa yadaaa. big changes is the great devourers venom partially passed over to him from garmy dont ask how it woooorks so basically just sometimes goes and maul peoples arms off but then crys about it later

known languages - common [isnt too good at writing common though due to not having a great education from darkleys, hes better at speaking it. ]

lloyd subconsciously shapeshifts to look like his father to be scary and intimidating so people dont hurt him [so his current design isnt what he actually looks like] hes like a pathetic hairball demon demanding you to be afraid of him. he truely thinks this is his true form

lloyd does not know of his actual species despite. not looking human unlike canon. look lloyd doesnt know a thing about his parents or his heritage his parents basically booted him out of the house as soon as he was born and he grew up inbetween houses being raised by people from favours his mom could cash in before he was eventually booted into darkleys

fighting style is much of a mix between what wu has taught him , random angry squabbling with his claws and most important of all. random shank he owns that the ninja have tried so hard to take off him but fail everytime to. hes a rogue style build and is the most sneaky out of all the ninja. short and puntable , knife in hand.

ok . biggest change in this rewrite. HE DOESNT BECOME THE GREEN NINJA UNTIL HES 15-16 AND THE TOMORROWS TEA NEVER HAPPENS TO HIM. dude i swear canon wu has got to be the final twist villain of the series because WHY did he drag that 10 year old toddler onto the battlefield as the green ninja GET HIM OFF ???? THERE????? anyways so yeah wu does try to get him to be the green ninja early on but he gets severely injured in a fight and misako beats wu's ass and he stops being the green ninja really early on and just continues being a student until hes old enough to be on the field

ok edit i might make it so the tomorrows tea does exist because i like it in concept but its only a temporary effect

his elemental power is changed because his power at the moment is just straight up 'green' the movie is right he really is just the green element. anyways so his power functions as it takes energy from something [either himself or his surroundings] and can apply the energy to something else or convert it into a different type of energy and apply it like that. energy cannot be created or destroyed yadayda [he could train to create energy from nothing but that would take like decades to accomplish on his own without outside help cough cough becoming a conduit cough cough ] GOODNIGHT ninjago and HELLO sleep paralysis! anyways he specialises in plants [he LOVES plants] and he carrys a terrarium around with him 24/7 its in a jar hidden under his black hoodie. this is how hes discovered as the green ninja he saves the ninja using the plants and stuff from his jar not whatever that golden weapon glowing stuff is booooorrring

since hes constantly taking energy from himself his body kind of adapted to have an insanely fast metabolism to make up for it

elemental power side effects - either goes in a tired state and sleeps for like a week straight or he jumps around and bounces off the walls for a week and struggles heavily to sleep. also if he takes in too much energy since hes really young and his body isnt strong enough for it he makes a huge explosion of raw unfiltered energy and it blows up everything around him including himself

wu adopts him and he is homeschooled by wu for a little bit before being brought into school

when misako returns i say he moves in with misako and lives there but he spends weekends at wus and goes there every afternoon

clings to kai like a leech . kind of in denial about it and if its brought up he throws a tantrum and does x2 the pranks on that person who brought it up. but yeah hes much more attached to kai and follows him around the most.

in terms of most powerful between each ninja his most powerful aspect is he has the most adaptability and ways of using his element [since his power is really uh... open? in how it can be used? like. theres a TON of things that energy can be applied to. energy is extremely broad] but he restricts himself by only specialising in using raw energy [aka 'power: green'] and flora growth and manipulation . so hes not as strong as he could be if he stopped chaining himself down with just those two useages of energy.

he can see others energy in like a weird way. he could have a blindfold over his eyes and still 'see' others energy and be able to tell whos who and be able to identify things around him.

loves heavy metal music. felt like sharing. he loves cartoons and will hoard the tv remote and defend it with his life

umm note for future me their oni features are gold colors and their dragon features are black. sprinkle some green in there too

all the ninja take turns at babysitting him and training with him. he picks up skills from all of the ninja.

in dragon rising hes still a teacher because i love that for him goodjob lloyd go on and continue the family tradition of turning children into blinded child soldiers who dont know what theyre getting into . but his reunion with the ninja takes a lot longer and the monastery was thrown underground and hidden during the merge . because like. no way the monastrey is out in the open on a mountain and people are saying in the crossroads 'oh we miss the ninja' DUDE THEYRE RIGHT THERE ??? so yeah the ninja monastery is actually hidden and unable to be found properly by anybody else because its in like some random cave stuck half torn apart. lloyd stays there and just mopes and is a big loser in there for awhile

~~~~~

zane - BABYT GIRL!!!! ok general infoooo 😋

any pronouns . doesnt care about pronouns . heh.... the ninja are woke now.... watch out liberals wait hold on no what are they called again whats the opposite one.

basics yeah . nindroid/robot species duuuh. elemental power is ice yadyada we all know this. has very enhanced senses and intelligence but is kind of not self aware of why. they have all the sensor stuff and can see things differently like a robot but they dont really register that theyre seeing things in a robot way. its like shoved to the back of their brain [+ you cant really tell what you experience is not normal if youre a social recluse who doesnt hang around other people]

robot reveal takes some building up to get to since i think crowding it all into one episode is kinda boring nah i wanna drag this on make it hurt yayddaaaa

languages: cant name them all he knows too many.

elemental power - he can just summon ice. but its not normal ice its his ice. when it melts it doesnt create water and it just. stops existing. its magic ice. he can also freeze water and manipulate the frozen water. when he does that then it can melt into water ya

elemental power side effects - makes a horrible squeaking noise from the ice being in contact with his metal body. not much of a side effect to him more so an annoyance to everybody elses eardrums. he also struggles to move his body when hes overusing his ice . it like gets inside his bolts and metal junk so he moves more slowly. he has to like sit it out and 'defrost' if he overuses his power since he wont be able to move or anything

hes very cold constantly . he doesnt feel it but everybody around him certainly does

i genuinely do not know how to approach the ice emperor season why did they just ignore him committing genocide haha guys guys please why did we just ignore that why is everybnody okay with that why did we just brush past that. i still want to include the ice emperor season but it needs to have more impact and consequences than it did and i dont know how to include that

the only ninja that knows how to cook anything properly. do not trust the others with a kitchen. ever.

his fighting build is kind of what i would consider a magic fighter ? hes skilled and follows his teachings very well but also works with his element quite frequently and doesnt rely too heavily on neither his element or fighting and uses them both when needed in combat.

when hes in school / before graduation he was a straight a student who asks if the class can have more homework to do for fun. biggest snitch ever in school [wont snitch if its his friends tho. well he wont purposely snitch. he might accidently though] he always carrys medical supplys and general life stuff with him at school incase anybody else needs them. hangs around the halls of the school the most and just roams them checking on people and breaking up any fights. sometimes gives himself a rest in the library as a treat

lives on his own in the centre of ninjago city

when he reunites with his father he takes him in to his house and they start living together

taught lloyd how to cook and do general chores like cleaning your clothing properly and doing the dishes [since darkleys never taught him how to and he never had a proper parental figure for most of his life to teach him the basics of life]

in terms of power stuff hes the most skilled in combat compared to all the other ninja.

he appears as human for a long time even after learning hes a robot hes still getting over it a little give him some time. when hes older during the whole downloaded to head stuff he gets convinced to stop hiding it though

likes classical music and sloppy tv dramas that are badly made. he will point out how bad the show is with the writing but he'll still watch until hes on season 26 and have his eyes glued to the screen and start mimicking the speaking mannerisms of the characters

kind of big change. him and pixal swap places with the whole downloading to head thing. it just makes more sense for me for the guy who died to be. the one in pieces and needing to be uploaded to survive. also my babygirl pixal deserves it as a treat

i kinda forgot how zane was revealed in dragon rising . but uh while he was stuck unactivated or whatever his body kind of just continued 'fixing' itself and upgrading itself on its own so hes like super advanced and a lot different looking in dragon rising

~~~~~

nya - they did you so dirty in the early seasons nya i love you you deserved so much better

she her they them . Yeah. licks your foot

languages uhh - merlopian, common and has the ability to send general 'vibes' towards sea animals that know no intelligent language. like canon :p

human for now 😋 after recovering from being one with the sea she kinda becomes not fully human and can breathe underwater and she zones out a lot and gets weird visions of stuff that happens in the sea Yay

still loves jay yes i couldnt erase that it would be a crime . im a jay x nya truther its one of my favourite relationships in all media theyre such a 'he makes me laugh :]' type relationship i love them

her being samurai x actually does something and after her identity being revealed she isnt immediately useless . why they do that

also she doesnt use a trident she uses weapons from her old samurai x stuff . all that time fighting as samurai x using a sword only to change to a trident? no way it was that easy of a switch and why would she switch to a weapon she doesnt know how to use as efficiently as a sword which she does know how to use . 'but it looks cool' ok . stab. stab. stab.

she works the hardest out of all the ninja. to the point its very unhealthy. shes constantly out fighting

elemental power - can take water from the air, any surrounding source or from herself and manipulate it. in general she can just manipulate water. thats her power. she can also cause changes in the weather and stuff it but that only happens later on because thats a big step up from 'i move water and change it to be as hard as a knife to be my weapon' to 'water in the clouds is MINE!!!'. she could only summon brand new water and not just manipulate existing water when she was bound to the sea. if she trained hard enough she could probably unlock it again.

elemental power side effects - dehydration [ shes taking water from her body. a tad bit obvious it would remove. the water. and make her dehydrated], overuse of power makes her zone out real bad and her body goes numb and she cant feel anything and sort of just runs on autopilot. her body is also always nagging her for water even if she doesnt need it because it knows that extra water is going to probably be used up on her powers

after seabound she has patches of blue tinted skin on her torso and she gains swirly sea like markings on it too. smiles

also her being apart of the sea takes longer to undo . can you tell i like seabound. have you picked up on that yet. its my favourite season of the og ninjago / before dragon rising

she gets random nosebleeds sometimes

she helps create mechs and gadgets for the ninja alongside jay . stealing this headcanon from my friend . you know who you are .

fighting style is tricky. id say she became really reliant on her powers after retiring samurai x but after seabound she started using her actual weapons a lot more frequently for both her health and because she went a long period of time without using them and kind of grew used to not. using them again. so shes more of a equal usage of power user like zane is but def not as skilled as zane is when figuring out when is a good time to use them and not. she gives me sorcerer / fighter vibes .

she lives with kai in the outskirts of ninjago city . they live in a apartment building where the owners probably slipped a 20 bill to whoever checked for the safety of that place . they also run a shop together

does NOT clean her room and neither does kai. their house is a genuine abomination

taught lloyd some basic tech stuff and would occasionally show him some of the fighting rings she used to go to so they could just observe how the people fight in there and stuff so lloyd could learn a little from that.

when she was in her samurai x arc she used to participate in fighting rings to build up her skills more

she gets into a lot of fights at school . very confident and sticks up for the little guy . likes to hang around the gym at lunch

she cuts her hair short a bit after becoming a ninja

tongue is bioluminescent and so is her blood. also her blood and tongue is blue. why not

she has a lot of scars all over her body, primarily from her samurai x years. she didnt get personal training from wu until later when she became a ninja so she was just fighting with her own fighting style she built up over the years from scuffles and fights in school and fighting rings so she played really dirty in her fighting. she did get a little bit of training from wu but because she wasnt considered a ninja by him until later she didnt get personal training and that training was more to pass the time and do something.

she has a lot of scars and some chunks of flesh missing from her fingers due to not handling equipment properly when doing repairs to her samurai x mech + the others mechs

she doesnt wear any jewerly [doesnt have any piercings either] except for a necklace which has her half of the yin-yang medallion

~~~~~

cole - i like you. ill give you a potato as a gift

oni/human hybrid [oni is distant & from a few generations ago. its from his mothers side] the only oni physical features he has is thick skin and very small nub horns.

his build is much more of a physical hands on tough fighter type build. out of all the ninja he uses his elemental power the least [due to living in a city where tearing up the ground to fight somebody isnt considered acceptable] and he relys the most on his physical strength to handle the job. he uses his power more when they handle work outside of the city and more in the middle of nowhere

languages: common and very small amounts of munce's language which he learnt from geo when they were just passing time and bored. i really need a name for these languages

elemental power - its like nyas in the way it cant just be used to make the element and the element has to be sourced from around him. he manipulates earth from the world around him but he cant summon it. later in dragon rising he learns to create his own elemental earth because manipulating the earth from the merged lands gave him really bad headaches due to the Screaming

side effects - gets very stiff limbs and has really bad muscle pain. his skin is very tough both from his oni genes and his elemental power causing his skin to be 'hard like rock' so its really hard to stick needles in his skin or anything like that so medical assistance that requires a needle has to be handled differently when it comes to him.

doesnt listen to much music at first due to disliking it because of his father but later on learns to love it just to be himself and not follow his fathers influence and connect music with his father. he likes really intense and strong music

plays the drums at school and takes lessons purely because of his father. he skips very regularly and wastes his fathers money a lot lol.

kind of a quiet kid and keeps to himself.

~~~~~

kai - i could put him inbetween my fingers like a worm and squish until he pops

he / him and SWAG

languages: some ancient forms of common that he learnt in class [he liked history class so he actually payed attention and listened] + common . he also knows a bit of serpentine

human ya. resident human of a group full of either non-humans or previously-human-but-no-longer-human-humans

has a little mini arc of feeling like hes not strong enough and cant contribute much to the team etc etc boo

elemental power - can summon fire and it can come from any part of the body [never does it to his hair though. cant ruin that style] he can also manipulate existing fire as long as its not being controlled by somebody else . if it is its a fight for power and whoever is stronger gets control of the fire . his elemental power is a bit of a reverse of how they usually work, he finds creating is own element to be much easier than manipulating existing forms of it

side effects - gets peeled skin and overheats sometimes. he gets a fever too

his bodys internal temperature is much warmer than your average humans

glows at night [his veins and chest are the brightest] hes very warm and acts like a heater to any room hes in when its nighttime.

also resident jock of the group totally. popular in school and used to be on the sports team before he dropped out of it due to not having time for sports anymore because Ninja Stuff.

picked up his parents work in their shop purely for money, he doesnt have much passion for his work. hes good at his work but he doesnt actually enjoy it

his mind wanders a lot and he can kind of spiral really easily sometimes . not that he will ever tell anybody that tho lol . a lot of his fights get to him and he takes them very personally to his character and thinks about them a ton . even if its the smallest fight . he picks apart at each of his flaws in the fight for hours.

all the ninja participate in helping lloyd learn to fight but he out of all of them works the hardest to teach lloyd everything. because of this lloyds fighting style somewhat mimics kais a bit more than all the others [all the ninja have similiar fighting styles even if they dont work too well with their builds or fighting type because they all trained together and learnt off eachother]

~~~~~

jay - YEAAAAAA BABYYYY

might wokeify him and give him blue hair and pronouns [she her privledges]. we'll see. edit ok scratch it yes jay she/her and he/him pronouns woke minions woke me woke woke all ninja woke. only uses she/her after the merge tho

serpentine infected human !!! from the bite in rise of the snakes i think it was called . he just has scales and fangs and a small nub tail and his eyes are slit like a snakes

elemental power - can create electricity and manipulate existing electricity. works best summoned from his hands or a weapon any other surface being used to summon his power isnt too stable .

side effects - severe damage to body if overused or used in too much force. also he like always has that little static shock thing. whenever he touches somebody he gives them a little zap. also her hair is usually always really messy because of her power. she tries really hard to keep it down though because he thinks he looks silly with it all poofed out from electricity

out of all the elemental powers hers is the most unstable so a lot of her personal training is put into controlling it. he had to put the most work out of all the ninja into elemental control training.

his fighting style is much more of a mage build. he doesnt use physical fighting as much and relys more heavily on his elemental power

in terms of power her element is the strongest in raw untrained strength. she trained really hard to slowly perfect her control of it

she has a lot of scars primarily on her hands due to his work. he has chunks of the skin and flesh of her fingers missing and he has a few electricity scars running up his skin [from his left side primarily]

has more of a build made for agility rather than physical fighting due to his fighting style relying less on physical strength. he still has a ton of muscle though. all the ninja do. just he probably has the least amount because out of all the ninja he fights the least with physical strength . still can beat people up without his element though of course

she lives in a junkyard outside of the main city and bike rides to school everyday

works with nya on the mechs

idk how to handle dragon rising jay . i think im just gonna keep him as being apart of the administration rather than joining raz or all of that . ninjago teasing me with the beauty that is admin jay and then just throwing the concept in the trash smh. bring him back . i love admin jay . why did they literally do nothing with that concept dude bring him back. he can be a villain just not for raz instead for the admin

oh but yeah im gonna just completely blow up skybound and tournament of elements characterisation of jay that doesnt exist in here. useless love triangle? incel jay? what are you talking about? never heard of it

she occasionally wears jewerly . her most prized possession on herself is a necklace like nyas that contains his side of the yin-yang medallion

electricity sometimes changes color depending on points in the story . why ? idk i just want admin jay to have red lightning thats why. bites your pinkie finger off your hand.

wears skirts. hit post.

still worrys a lot but doesnt mean she isnt confident in battle. once he has a game plan set up for battle he barges through the door with full force and charges at the enemy . he just likes to analyse the situation and get a handle on it first before barging straight in [unless hes emotional, he might skip a few steps if hes emotional enough]. out of all the ninja theyre the most perceptive

teaches lloyd basic mech stuff alongside nya + brings him to comic stores and buys him stuff

sells her creations at market stalls and gets a ton of money through that.

can you tell that i was throwing beer at the screen when they revealed jay wasnt apart of the administration anymore. have you noticed i dont like raz sided jay yet. im fine with her being a villain but LET HER BE A OFFICE VILLAIN LET HER THROW PAPERWORK AT THE ENEMY!!!!!!!!!

~~~~~

no designs for them yet but still important for story

misako . they did you so dirty i somewhat forgot you existed for a few seasons because they NEVER SHOW YOU . anyways her fake name is koko she uses it when shes in hiding. her battle name is the lady iron dragon

human

she / her

trans because why not 'then who gave birth to lloyd' lord garmadon. next question.

no elemental power just a sword and a dream

ex-warrior. im smashing koko and misako together . yes . i like them both [misako still my fav though] misako met the garmadon brothers when she was fighting on the opposite of a battle [she wasnt really very aligned to them, she just owed some people a favour and fought for them because of that] . she won the battle and kept them hostage before talking a little with them and letting them go . they hit off ever since and became friends .

she was one of garmadons biggest opponents after he went really into the evil side. they sort of became offical enemies a few months before lloyd was born . they had a huge custody battle after lloyds birth [aka a literal battle . its a oni tradition lol] garmy lost but also garmy is like evil as hell and does not care about breaking laws or tradition anymore and only proposed the option because his ego is big and he thought he'd win . next thing after that garmy tried stealing lloyd away despite losing the battle so misako had to give up lloyd for his safety .

she eventually went into hiding going under a different name [koko] and dyed her hair orange so she couldnt be as easily recognised. she still has wrinkles though ninjago movie writers are weak they should of made her old. shes spent a long time looking for lloyd but lost him since she was so distracted fighting garmy

now she just works as a emergency services doctor. her dream job was to be a archaeologist but she did it for awhile and it brought way too much attention to her name so she had to drop it [even though she goes by a fake name and appearance she still doesnt want her fake identity getting any large publicity] . maybe one day when she gets garmadon off her back she can finally live out her dream job.

she reunites with lloyd after he gets severely injured trying to be the green ninja too early. the ninja bring him to the hospital because they cant treat his injurys on their own due to them being too severe and they all meet misako. misako joins the ninja force and semi takes on her mantle as the iron dragon again. not as much anymore, only when her son needs protection and she has to jump in

shes still a very experienced warrior and knows how to kick butt. just she doesnt do it much anymore because it wouldnt work well for people to recognise she has the exact same fighting style as the long missing warrior lady iron dragon.

~~~~~

garmadon [i call him garmy]

oni/dragon 50/50. same as before. his dad the fsm just did mitosis or something to make him and wu idk. they just zapped into existence. if he can make whole realms out of existence im sure he can do asexual reproduction and make two children

he/him

as i said before hes a much longer built up villain . he doesnt get brought back 24/7 because that hurts my brain and it just makes him a less terrifying villain and more like a occasional nuance. throwing beer at the tv when i see the 5th ninjago season centered around lloyd and garmadons relationship SNOREEEEEEEE. give it more of a build up

has red markings on skin due to venom

crys fire because i love that feature in the movie its so cool

so yeah . he only gets referenced more and more and hes built up a lot in image before hes actually finally revealed. hes a lot more intimidating and much more affected by the venom than canon garmy and hes killed a ton of people . hes like a really really bad guy whos fully infected by the venom

he has more dragon features than canon but majority of them are oni centered features.

his human form isnt what he actually looks like 'cured' or whatever its just a human disguise he uses to be accepted by others and seem more friendly and not a bad guy . this happens after the venom is mostly purged from his body ya

non human features aka stuff from being a oni are black and purple with some whites.

~~~~~

wu

oni/dragon . hides his true form unlike his brother garmy who does not give a fauk who sees his true form.

has primarily dragon features not too many oni compared to garmy who has a couple dragon features alongside his more dominant oni ones

non human features aka dragon stuff are gold and white with some small purples.

lowkey kind of a horrible teacher who teaches literal children how to be soldiers but thats just because hes ancient old and not used to new ways + his father wasnt that good . of a father . and didnt teach him very well either. he cares about his students greatly but hes inexperienced and was taught by a bad teacher [aka. his father]

still has a crush on misako lowkey such a loser for her . im a wu / misako truther . she deserves better than that FREAK garmy and im not letting him break her heart

~~~~~

ok im still working on the other characters come back later. also still workin on the ninja

[kupidachillea]

is it okay to ask for your hcs on Apollo? Specifically yandere headcannons? I loved the way you wrote him in the last yandere Olympians so I just wanted to see more of him :3 (totally ok if you don't want to do it!! Love your works!! 💞💞💞)

(Yandere) Apollo x You Hcs

Author note: Ah- I see the Apollon fans have been using requests to their advantage and I love it, lol. Sorry that this took so long, I prefer quality over quantity. So I don’t want to rush myself and give you also something you won’t enjoy! So I hope you like this💕

TW (trigger warning):This will have a Yandere themes in it. And while the Olympians themselves aren’t really yanderes- they do share similar tendencies considering their myths. Please note that this isn’t completely accurate to their mythology- but it’s just a bit of fun so please take no offence and be nice in the comments.

CW (content warning)⚠️: Readers please be either 17-18+ to read this I mean. This includes light mentions of nudity, toxic behaviour. General Yandere behaviour. Reader’s discretion is advised.

☀️- Apollon was your boyfriend. Not the most normal partner you’ve had but definitely the most attentive and loving.

🎵- His caresses feel like the sun itself is holding you in a warm, tight embrace. And his kisses are even better..they remind you of the sun’s rays peeking through the curtains in your bedroom and landing gracefully on you.

☀️- You were literally sun kissed. To put it lightly, he was everything you wanted and you were everything he wanted… and more. He loved you so much.

🎵- At first, Apollon was nervous to even consider a relationship with you. Not because he didn’t like you but because he knew how most of his other relationships have played out in the past.

☀️- Being happy one minute with his lover before death ripped them away from in one cruel swoop. So he had procrastinated quite a bit before finally asking the question that’s been eating him inside.

🎵- When you said ‘yes’, he was beyond ecstatic to say the least. And he will admit, the more time he spent with you the more he seemed to show a mixture of love and obsession.

☀️- For a moment he thought that it was the work of Eros once more just trying to harass him like in the days of old with his late love, Daphne. But no..this was all him. He wasn’t sure if he were to be scared, or embrace this side of himself…but over time, the decision was made for him.

🎵- As the days wore on, his love for you grew. You were just so perfect to him…so pretty…yet so fragile. He couldn’t let anything happen to you- hell- he can’t let anyone touch you. No one deserved to touch your precious body. No one but him..

☀️- “Mmm…you’re so beautiful..” He would slur as you both laid in bed cuddling each other bare. His body was so warm against yours…he felt like a living breathing heater.

🎵- “So beautiful..and so mine…” Apollon would grumble..firstly kissing your neck and gently weaving his finger through your hair. “All mine…isn’t that right, love?” He asked, though you weren’t entirely sure if you could respond, your body trembled slightly when he bit down on your neck..causing a love bite to eventually form as he sucked on the area.

☀️- His hands getting greedy, gently tugging your hair back so your neck would crane slightly. This allowed him more access to your delectable neck. “Of course you’re mine…only the best for someone like you…only a god can satisfy you and give you what you need.” He almost growled his words as he licked a long strip up to your jaw, causing you to gasp and shudder. His tongue flat against your neck, tasting your skin and his free arm curling around your waste only for his hand to grip the meat of your arse tightly.

🎵- “No mortal man or woman is allowed to have you…not even the gods…only me.” He would utter. He couldn’t bear the thought of someone other than himself having you. It didn’t seem right to him. How could did he go so long without knowing you before?

☀️- You knew Apollon was a possessive man, and it couldn’t be helped..You actually excused most of his behaviour. Passing it off as just deity behaviour. Besides..he meant you no harm. He just wanted you safe and sound in his arms. Right?

🎵- Of course he did..that’s why he thought he was perfectly within his right to…eliminate and threats or competition.

☀️- It’s not like you’d notice a few of your pathetic so call ‘friends’ going missing anyway. You were too busy focusing all your time and energy on him.

🎵- All your love was his. He’d often watch you sleep…smiling dreamily to himself as he watched your chest rise and fall. That sweet little mortal heart of yours beating steadily. Oh how he’d do anything to keep you with him…permanently..

☀️- “Let us get married, my Love…~” He said one day. Your eyes widening and your brows raising. Marriage..? With Apollon? You definitely didn’t take him for the ‘setting down’ type.

🎵- You smiled softly and told him as much as you loved him and how you adored him, you thought it would be best to wait a few more months. That led the god of sunlight to pout like a child.

☀️- He didn’t understand. If you loved him, why wouldn’t you marry him? Sure he isn’t really known to have anything beyond lovers but he was serious about this. But for now he dropped it and nodded. You would smile at him and place a sweet kiss on his lips that made him melt.

🎵- But if you honestly thought Apollon would quit there then you’re wrong. It wasn’t fair. He deserved to have you for eternity. You were his and he was yours. He couldn’t allow another partner to slip through his fingers like this..no..he couldn’t..he wouldn’t.

☀️- He wanted you..he needed you. Just how the flowers needed the sun…so he did something..slightly drastic on his part…

🎵- He carried you to Olympus while you were asleep. Was it smart? He thought so…and he hoped you would think so too. This way you both could be together forever and you’d be safe from harm and any mortal disease.

☀️- When you awoke, you found yourself in a room that wasn’t your own ..the bed was way more comfortable than your own and the designs and art were..ancient to say the least.

🎵- Before you could fully process what was going on, Apollo appeared and brought you into his arms. Oh..now you have an idea of what was happening.

☀️- “Ah, my Love..don’t be mad but I did you the courtesy of moving you in with me..” He started..his voice soft yet a hint of excitement laced his voice along with something darker as he stroked your hair..

🎵- “After all- you did technically day you wanted to spend more time together before we got married. So what better way to do that than living together?” He asked. It was obviously rhetorical, he was grinning from ear to ear as he spoke. Meanwhile you were just in shock..you wanted to argue and protest- saying that this is not what you meant but he promptly shut you up with a firm kiss to the lips.

☀️- You felt your breath hitch in your throat..this kiss felt different from the ones you usually shared with him. This one felt more forceful and possessive. As if he was trying to claim you.. after what felt like an eternity he finally pulled away..his gaze now softer as he stroked your cheek.

🎵- “You need not worry, Dearest…I am all that you need. No one else deserves to have you..only me. We deserve to be together.” The golden haired god spoke. His voice having a slight purr to it as he nuzzled your neck, a shiver went down your spine at the feeling. “And I won’t let anything or anyone stop us from being together….unlike the others…I will have you for eternity…~”

Author note: Oof- sorry this took so long. Trying to pace myself here so I’m not rushing and there’s more quality than quantity. But I appreciate all the love and the requests. I promise to get to them all!💕

[yourgoldendeer]

Jeez girl I regret looking up the arsenal fc tag cause I ended up on your bullshit again.

> "haaland told y'all to act humble and clearly y'all haven't won shit so you are worse than us, act humble"

First of all, you make the critical error of forgetting WHO haaland said that to. Mikel Arteta. Let's leave the opposition manager dynamic out for now and remember that Mikel, for 2 years, was basically pep's apprentice at City. Haaland somehow having the gall to insult a man who worked with him, with his team and with his manager for 2 years on live TV is a pretty heinous act in and of itself. Let's also look at the context of the match, where, after a dubious red card (if you want to argue it's not dubious kindly don't, szboszlai committed the same "offense" a week later with no foul, and after wolves v arsenal I don't think you wanna argue that PGMOL is an impartial body if you want to come off as having any common sense), arsenal had to revert back to Mourinho tactics and somehow a team that had previously never done anything of the sort, managed to hold up a low block that took city 5 full minutes of extra time to break through. The same city (only major injury at the time was rodri) who got all your shiny trophies.

Secondly, yes, this team has not won anything. Why is that? Inexperience. On both the players and the manager, and this is something everyone in the arsenal sphere knows. And yet, we've come close. Closer than any other team to Manchester City, despite not having the finances, officiating bias (as shown in above para, michael oliver, but he is merely one of many many examples), or experience. I know to gloryhunters like most city fans the point of coming second is lost, but ask anyone who actually cares about football: SAF and Wenger was the greatest rivalry in the prems, despite the former completely outshining the latter. And yet, not for a single season, untill the last match did man u or arsenal fans mock each other (aside from the typical banter one expects from what had basically developed into a derby).

> "still not winning the league"

Man City away, liverpool at home, both Brighton games, wolves away. Do I need to give more examples of arsenal getting bent over by the PGMOL untill that fact goes through your thick head? On top of that, injuries. The only other clubs with injuries as bad as ours are spurs and city, and everyone can see they're both shells of their usual selves. Add to the mix the fact that edu gaspar left in the middle of the season and the board refused to replace him even with the oncoming January window.

As for your wonderful advice, don't you worry ma'am we've done that already. For 10 years. For a whole decade we have endured abuse and laughter, to our club, players and 2 extremely talented ex-managers (not to mention the arteta out crowd who must suffer from severe delusions). And yet, here we are. We keep our heads up, despite losses, despite injuries, despite being the refs' guinea pigs for what can fly under mainstream media. However, perhaps it is time for city fans to apply this advice too? Yesterday your manager set up some of the worst tactical decisions of his career, such as benching khusanov and playing marmoush out of his preferred position, and after an 18 year old LB scored against his side, visibly tried his best not to break down in tears. Haaland, despite scoring a goal, seemingly forgot how to make runs (and it's not me saying this: it's thierry henry, and before you argue he's stupid cause he's an ex-arsenal player, do remember he also played under pep's barcelona). Eras end, and pep has without a doubt begun to lose his grip in the game. But I'm no City fan, and I respect the man, so I hope you lot won't turn on him when he stops putting in the numbers.

This is already a very long post, and I'm sure you will use it to fuel your "arsenal fans are sensitive" headcanon, but for those impartial readers who stumble upon this, let me clarify, arsenal are not against banter. Viera and Keane physically held themselves back from killing each other. SAF and Mourinho literally had fistfights with Wenger, but it comes down to respect. No matter how much SAF cussed out Wenger, he hugged him at his farewell. Mourinho still refuses to agree with the man and yet never raises his voice against him. Had haaland not thrown a ball at Gabriel, not tried to throw his weight around on an 18 year old, not pretended like arteta's some lowlife, we would not have had this reaction.

im going to explain this like someone would explain it to a little kid bc some arsenal fans are very dumb wont say another word for it bc they are also very uh sensitive...?

haaland told your players to stay humble because they act and celebrate as if they have won a treble or a ucl or a prem (yk all the trophies city has won) so he said it for you guys to chill out and know your place. Now, the team and the whole fanbase got super offended even though everyone knew what haaland meant and he is right. However, the fanbase and your team have proven his point countless times throughout the season....and you just don't get it. This match probably means to you exactly what it meant to city to complete the treble or 4 in a row. We are not on the same level. That is just a literal fact.

now are city having a bad season...100% that is also a fact. However, even though we are having a bad season does this mean haalands point is not true? no. it is true. the past 2-3 years your whole arguement has been "well how can we compete with them" we've been shit. and your still not winning the league HAHAHA. so my advice to you arsenal people is to look on the inside and just maybe come to the conclusion you guys think youre the shit when you are simply not...?

[wilsonwandmagician]

sorry for all those of you who would like a sincaraz final but... i think, this time, i'll go for a dimicaraz (?) one. think about the potential speech that could come out, the shots they could produce, the tension, the respect, the esteem, the brief mention of the laver cup, the new friendship born in these last few days... i don’t know, do you see the vision?

[helladventurers]

OK, no I'm not done with my grinding, at all lol

my current armor set is horribly under powerforming against both fatalis and alatreon, it's so terrible that some of their attacks deal 90% of my health LOL

so time to revamp this, evasion isn't nearly as tight as it was in the 3ds games (and also not a necessary considering you have infinite healimg items in this game) so time to swap my to focus to mitigation and damage

[medicinemane]

Few things piss me off more than when I'm researching something, and I find someone asking the question I want answered, and the response is just "you shouldn't want that, just do this instead"

Today, it's me trying to look up a build for this witch farm concept that uses raid captains to manipulate the witches ai instead of using redstone

"Just use the shifting floors farms, they're just about as good" people respond... you stupid prick, that's not an answer to the question actually asked. I don't know about these guys, but me, I want it cause it's novel and there's no redstone, and I like putting bespoke prestige projects on my server... you might have noticed I tend to do form over function on a lot of my farms... so this is about form, the function is just a bonus

Second example, I wanted to see if there was any way to make Terra Invicta load faster, "just don't save scum"... you idiot, one that's just stupid advice, people can play games however they want, but two this once again doesn't answer the question

Like yeah, how dare people want to know if there's a way to make a game load saves faster when loading takes like 1 minute

If they at least phrased stuff like "sorry, I don't know how to do that, he's an alternative you might try", it's not helpful but it's at least polite

But man... I just get tired of people not answering the question being asked and instead answering the one they've decided was asked

(Actually, a legit real problem in the real world such as... with doctors who don't listen to their patient and decide they know what's really being asked. Don't do it, answer the asked question, or at least ask questions to confirm what's being asked before going off pig headed)

[unintentionalseductress]

Prescription For Pleasure

Warnings: MDNI, sex, masturbation, medical masturbation, use of vibrators, clit play, piv sex, use of latex gloves, oral (fem receiving), some praise, kinda slow burn A/n: I am not normal about this man in any way. Not really proofread. Please do not use my banners without permission.

You’re seated in Zayne’s office, trying not to squirm as he sets up your appointment. Although this was now the third time you were seeing him for this regular inspection, it didn’t alleviate your nerves the slightest. Each month, according to the Hunter’s Association regulations, every hunter needed to be seen by their primary care physician for 3 consecutive days for their health.

And although the association deemed it a necessity, it was an embarrassing requirement according to you. The Hunter’s Association had done a survey and discovered that many of their employees suffered from high levels of stress because they were isolated and lacked much-needed human contact. To combat this, they made it mandatory to get physical contact by a medical professional every month.

But when all the fancy jargon was pushed aside, all the hunters called it the same thing - medical masturbation. It had become wildly popular amongst both men and women hunters, eagerly marking the days on their calendar for when they could come in. When you heard about the rule, you wished the earth would open up and swallow you whole. You had tried talking to Jenna to insist that you were indeed taking care of yourself in that aspect, thanks to your trusted vibrator, but she had shaken her head no. 

“We need documentation. I’m subject to it, and so is everyone else in my order.”  Defeated, you’d walked out of Jenna’s office before remembering another mortifying fact with a jolt. Your primary care physician was Zayne. 

Your childhood friend, your trusted cardiologist, stoic and calm, who remained reserved during your general checkups, was going to be your medical masturbator. You had almost turned yourself into a ball on the floor, tweaked out at the insanity of it all. Although Zayne was your general physician, you had a separate gynecologist, and apart from asking if you’d had your annual PAP smear, Zayne had left that part of your anatomy unquestioned. It didn’t help that you were attracted to him, and sure, if he’d asked you out on a date, you would have been more than happy to let him inspect you all he wanted down there.

But this clinical setting, enforced by your organization was a little too much to bear. Wondering how to tackle this situation, you wander over to Tara who was humming as she made her medical bookings on her phone app. “Isn’t this exciting?” she squeals as she sees you. “God knows the dating pool is thin right now. This is just what I needed!”

Tara’s primary care physician was a woman, and you wondered if that was a pro or a con. On the one hand, dropping your panties for a woman doctor seemed less unnerving than for a man. But if you had a preference for men, would it work against your arousal? You shook your head at your ridiculous musings and focused on talking to Tara. “Are you really that excited about this?”

“You have no idea!” Tara taps her feet as she talks to you. 

“And you’re ok about having a woman stimulate you?” You probe, trying to gauge Tara’s reaction. Tara giggles and lightly pats your shoulder. 

“I don’t know but the idea is kind of hot. I mean, getting it on in a doctor’s office? Besides if I don’t like it, I can change the doctor the next time.”

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. “You can change your doctor?”

“For this yes, the app gives you an option since it involves showing off a lot of intimate areas. You have to be able to trust your doctor right?”

You logged into the app, finding the little button to request a change in doctors, but for some reason, the page kept refreshing and crashing. With a sigh, you decide to get the worst of it over with and call Zayne, hoping he can make the change for you on his end. His voice is cool and professional when he answers your call.

“Yes?”

“So, you must have heard about…the new regulation?” you had put forth nervously.

“I am aware of it, yes.” 

“Well, for obvious reasons, I would like a different doctor.” 

Zayne smoothly says, “Of course. Patient comfort is always first. Do you have a doctor in mind?”

“Maybe my gynecologist? I tried doing it in the app but it keeps crashing.” There’s a moment of silence and you can hear Zayne’s fingers tapping away at his keyboard before a low hum leaves his end of the line.

“There appears to be a problem.”

“Problem?” you’d parrotted back.

“Yes. Because so many people are booking appointments at the same time, most of the available doctors are already taken. Including your gynecologist.” 

It felt like watching a bird crashing into a window in slow motion, that brief moment of hope that it wouldn’t hit the glass shattering in an instant. “Oh.”

There’s a pause before Zayne delicately says, “I’m sorry but it looks like you will have to make those appointments with me for this month. 3 of them according to the regulation. Hopefully, you can make the change for next month.” His voice sounded slightly apologetic.

“Won’t it be weird given that we know each other personally?” The question had fallen from your lips before you could stop yourself. 

“I promise not to treat you any differently than any of my other patients who are coming in for this inspection. I understand this may be a little unexpected, but I assure you I did a term of gynecology during my internship.”

A tinge of mirth carried over in his voice and you can’t help but make a noise of embarrassment. “Zayne, please!” His laugh was dry but not unkind, and you can’t help but want to hide your face even though he couldn’t see you. 

“Don’t worry too much. But I do advise you to make the appointments soon. My schedule is filling up rapidly.”

With those words, he’d disconnected the call and you were left wondering if an unknown god from another planet had cursed your existence. 

And changing doctors had proven to be more difficult than you’d thought. The entire organization seemed to be having a single thought. They had made appointments in the app almost halfway into the year, essentially blocking you from being able to do anything about your situation. Now on your third month with Zayne, you watch as he checks his notes from your last session, feeling like you want to scamper from the room.

The last two sessions had been incredibly stimulating, your arousal heightened by the fact you were attracted to Zayne. You’d never considered having someone watch as you touched yourself but found that you’d enjoyed it, at least, when it was him. He had remained professional, but you’d avoided him these last two months, save for when you had to get your monthly cardiac profile. He reads his notes from his computer as he prepares for your session. 

“Preferred device for stimulation still a vibrator, with a large, rounded, flexible head?” His eyes remain on his screen and you’re grateful for him giving you this smidgen of privacy. 

“Yes.”

“Preference for the doggystyle position still?” 

Your face burns. “Yes.”

“Still consenting for verbal stimulation?”

You nod your head.

“And still consenting for internal vaginal stimulation?” You make a noise of consent, squeezing your thighs together, your panties uncomfortably chafing against your already swollen pussy. 

“All right, I have everything I need.” He logs off and removes his lab coat, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his well-corded arms, and your mouth almost waters at the sight of them. Clearing your throat, you shyly reach into your bag and pull out the vibrator in question, which he takes from you and clamps into a stand, adjusting it over the examination table you’d be on. A bottle of lube awaits on the tray next to the table and you swallow as he finishes the setup. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says in that deep voice, and feeling like your fingers are wrapped in thick woolen mittens, you reach behind you to untie the hospital gown you’re wearing, and it falls to the floor with a swoosh, your nipples pebbling under the sudden chill. A small set of sensors were taped to your chest and on the sides of your forehead, essential medical devices to ensure your orgasm was satisfactory. Unperturbed, Zayne gestures to the table and you make your way onto it, letting your feet settle in the stirrups as he settles on a stool between your legs, pulling on latex gloves before gently spreading your folds apart. You stare up at the ceiling as he does his initial checkup.

“Labia look healthy, no signs of trauma or abnormal discharge,” he murmurs, then runs a finger down the edge of the fold that separates your inner and outer lips, causing your core to clench involuntarily. You hold still, knowing very well he saw the action, holding your breath, letting out a little sigh as he lets go. 

“Normal reaction to stimuli, already semi-aroused,” he says, trashing the gloves and making another note on his computer. He glances over at you, leaning back uncertainly on the table. “You may begin.”

You swallow, then carefully turn onto your hands and knees, crawling towards the head of the table, grabbing the bottle of lube and squeezing the viscous liquid onto the head of the vibrator, avoiding eye contact as your breasts sway under the motion, nipples painfully hard from anticipation. You could feel Zayne’s gaze but can’t bring yourself to look up. Even though this was the third time, it hadn’t gotten easier, stripping naked and pleasuring yourself in his office. 

Once the rounded head of the vibrator is slick, you turn, the chill of the lube against your heated membranes causing more blood to flow into your already engorged nub, and run your moist slit across the surface to spread the liquid onto your slickened folds. Your hand fumbles for the little remote control and with a buzz, the vibrator turns on at the lowest setting. You click the button a few more times until it gets to the speed you liked, then fail to hold back a moan as the sensations pleasurably begin to take hold in your clit. 

The first time you had done this, nervousness had made you set the vibrator on the highest possible setting hoping to get a quick orgasm and sprint out of the office. Unfortunately, the sensors relayed this information into Zayne’s medical record that your climax had been unsatisfactory, and you had endured being lectured by him with the medical gown loosely draped on your body, your rear open to the cold office air. 

His tone wasn’t unkind but it hadn’t helped you feel better either. “It helps neither of us if you rush this. The whole purpose of this examination is to ensure you’re relaxing. I know it’s embarrassing but if you fail to have a proper orgasm, I’ll have to make you repeat the process until I get data that says otherwise.”

“The sensors are-”

“The only way to measure anything. Without involving another person anyway.”

His words had left you gobsmacked and your retort had died in your mouth. After that incident, you had learned. Even with the chagrin of having him watch you, you had learned to take your time and let the feelings build, leading to incredibly savory climaxes that made your body squirm from the aftershocks. 

Your hips sway, setting up a rhythm to brush your sensitive slit onto the head, letting it vibrate from cunt to clit, the lube aiding the frictionless sliding and making your core drip. Quiet noises of pleasure leave your throat as help yourself, arching your back and changing the curvature of your ass to maximize the sensations, then when the perfect pattern emerges, you let out a keening sigh, and try to remain still, letting the vibrator work its magic. 

Zayne, who has been quietly observing the computer this entire time, observing the spikes relayed from the sensors, asks, “Have you found your optimal pleasure form?”

“Yes,” you gasp, the timbre of his voice sending an arrow of lust into the deepest parts of your clenching core. You knew what was about to come next. The sound of Zayne’s desk chair moving, followed by the snap of latex gloves as he pulled a fresh pair onto those beautiful hands. He approaches the examination table and takes the bottle of lube you had set aside earlier, a wet squelching noise issuing from it as he squeezes it over his gloved hand, gathering the fluid on his index and middle fingers. He leans over to whisper in your ears; the verbal stimulation has begun.

The humiliating reveal that you had a heavy praise kink had come up during your initial session and despite your insistence that it wasn’t necessary, Zayne, the ever-diligent worker, had made a note in your profile, and he’d been fulfilling it each time. A tickle of hot breath near your ear, before he murmurs, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

The hum of the vibrator in the background coupled with his voice makes your breath catch in your throat. You nod, knowing you didn’t have it in you to form coherent words. 

“That’s a good patient. Good patients listen to their doctors you know. And you’re doing a wonderful job.”

Your hips snap back to push your clit against the rubber pad, letting out a whimper of pleasure, the action pushing your ass up higher, revealing your pathetically drooling cunt, fluttering with the dissatisfaction of being unfilled. 

“Are you ready?” He waits for your consent and you manage a husky, ‘mm hm’.

“Good girl. Take a breath.”

You inhale, trying to relax, then let out an uninhibited moan as Dr. Zayne inserts his middle finger into your needy cunt, the ring of muscles offering no resistance to the probing digit. He gently thrusts a few times, before curling the tip of his finger up into the delicate patch of nerves on your upper wall, the smooth come hither motion awakening a new level of pleasure in your body. Your fingers tighten on the edges of the table, sobbing, trying not to scream at the feelings that threatened to explode from you. He keeps up the gentle assault before asking, “Are you ready for another one?”

“Yes…” your voice comes out shakily, knowing you desired more than just his fingers, but that you would never get to experience it. 

“Perfect. So well behaved, taking exactly what I give you.” Zayne’s sensual voice floods your ear before his index pushes into you, the thickness of both his fingers sending you into overdrive. Your walls clench welcomingly around him, inciting an exciting pull of liquid heat in your abdomen, the muscles tensing in anticipation for the exquisite release you knew was about to occur. 

Feeling your inhibitions abandon you as you are stroked closer to orgasm your self-control slips and his name falls from your lips as he pushes over the edge.

“Zayne…” some partially functioning confine in the back of your brain registers what you had just involuntarily purred, but the spasms rocking your core, those gratifying waves of delight flooding your body made it easier to ignore it as your being is reduced to a pliant mess of pleasure. His fingers ease up as the fluttering in your pussy calms down, your clit pulsating weakly as the final vestiges of pleasure are wrung from your body. 

With a wet noise, his fingers leave your moist hole, the glove coated with your juices and the lubricant. Awareness finally comes crashing around you as you realize what you had uttered in the throes of passion. 

“I…I didn’t…I wasn’t in control…” You try to find a way to explain, to let him know you had very little choice in the matter of sobbing his name as you orgasmed, but everything feels flat, almost on the fine line between explaining and insulting. 

“There’s no need.” Almost as if he’s read your mind, Zayne matter-of-factly redirects the conversation. “It’s not uncommon to blurt out things during climax. Some people swear, and others call out names. It was a very normal reaction considering I was the one in the room with you.”

He throws the gloves in the trash and goes to check the computer, to ensure the sensors had given him the information he needed before starting the second round of the appointment.

“Oh.” You say quietly as he sits at his desk, feeling dejected. Although relieved he wasn’t making a big deal out of it, you can’t help but feel disappointed with his reaction. Shouldn’t a man be flattered when a woman cried out his name when she came? Maybe he really was treating you strictly as a patient. And here you were, pussy exposed and spread after being probed by his dextrous fingers, mooning over him like a high school girl. Perhaps the limit of your relationship with him was in fact, doctor and patient, the childhood friends aspect fading. 

So there was no romance here at all. You had a crush on him, and he was doing his job. Reality sucks. You sniff and suddenly feel cheap, and get out of the doggystyle position and try to find the hospital gown to preserve some of your modesty. Zayne glances over at your sudden movements.

“Are you cold? I can get you a blanket.”

“I’m fine.” You try to sound normal. 

“Your records show that you usually rest about 10 minutes before you are ready for the next round. Do you feel like that will be the case this time too?”

You find the gown and drag it up to your chin, covering your body as you lay back on the table. “Yeah. Actually a little sooner today maybe. I have somewhere to be.”

“You can’t rush these things. Your body will cum when it wants to. A forced orgasm doesn’t promote anything beneficial.”

“Well can we find a way for this to happen quickly and in compliance with the sensors?” You’re trying not to let your frustration show, the pleasantness of your orgasm fading. “I don’t think I have the patience to do two more rounds.”

Zayne listens to you impassively, but those amber eyes flecked with green had an underlying intensity you couldn’t place. “You don’t have the patience to do two more rounds?” He gets up and comes over to you. “You want to just leave then?” He approaches the edge of the table and there’s tension in his jaw. Perplexed, you look at him, his reaction unexpected. 

“No, I’m sorry, I know I can’t leave because of compliance and all that.”

“Compliance,” Zayne mutters under his breath before grasping your chin and forcing you to look at him, a gasp leaving your throat. 

“You’re getting frustrated because you have to do this a few times every month while being supervised? Do you have any idea what I have to do before you come in for these sessions?” His voice is a growl and you clam up, shocked by this aggressive display of expression from him.

“Every month I have to remain professional as you come in, pleasure yourself, and then leave. I have to endure seeing your beautiful body bare in front of me and control all my impulses to touch you, to not overstep my limitations as your doctor. I pleasure myself remembering the noises you make and ensure I’m well spent before coming in to do your appointments. You sit there, acting like it’s hard for you, but do you have any idea what you do to me?”

One of his knees is on the table, and he’s looming over you making you feel like a tiny animal caught in his fury. “It’s torture, to watch you. You’re not like the other patients I see. You never have been. Because with you, I always feel like I’m on the verge of losing control. Do you know how difficult it is to not do things to you that aren’t specified on your medical record? To have my fingers so intimately inside you, feel every little drop of pleasure clenching around my fingers, knowing at the end I can’t have you to myself? To hear you call my name and know that you only see me as your doctor?” 

Your face is a bright shade of red but you can’t look away from his face. His teeth are gritted, and when you dare to glance down, you see the noticeable bulge that has formed between his legs. He follows your glance and clicks his tongue, letting go of your chin. 

“I know I crossed a boundary today. It’s all right. You can go. I’ll reschedule you with another doctor. I know you didn’t want me in the first place.”

Your mind is a blur as you quickly reach out to grab his hand, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. His admission was like a prayer answered, and you weren’t going to meek about this. His breath hitches as he feels you pulling at his hand and gives you a look of uncertainty. Your lips part but the words you want to say refuse to come out. 

“Damn it,” he whispers ferally before his mouth captures yours in a rough kiss. It was wild and demanding, a contrast to the reserved, patient man he usually was. You’re swept up in the feeling of his mouth on yours, the taste of his tongue, and the softness of his lips. When you break apart, his hand cups your cheek, his eyes searching your face.

“This isn’t just because of the session right?” He asks keenly and you realize what he’s asking you. He’d been aching for you before this whole stupid policy came into place. The same way you’d been longing for him. 

“No, it’s not. I had a crush on you back when you became my doctor to check on my heart condition.” A sigh of relief leaves him before he tenderly presses his forehead to yours, and you’re caught up in the sweetness of the moment. 

“I just had to be sure.”

Boldly, you raise your head, delighted when he meets you, pulled back into his kiss, your tongues sliding over each other, your fingers tangling into his hair, scratching the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you. 

You gasp as he breaks the kiss to drag his tongue down the column of your throat, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the heated flesh, your blood humming in your veins as your eyes flutter closed. He pulls away the gown and pulls your perked nipple into his mouth, and you revel in the jolt of pleasure it brings you, each suckle felt in your clit which had already swollen up again in need. His fingers capture your other nipple, softly tweaking and pulling it and drawing little whines of desire from your throat. 

Your hand finds the junction between his legs and cups the heavy bulge, drawing a groan from him, palming him through his slacks, feeling it grow and tent the fabric under your ministrations. A low guttural sound leaves him and he gets off the table, and you almost protest until you see him dragging the small wheeled stool from earlier towards the table. He settles down on it, looping his arms around the tops of your thighs and pulling you closer to the table's edge until your feet find the stirrups again. 

“Stay open for me darling,” he instructs, his eyes glittering and you shiver as you feel his breath against your swollen folds. You squeak as he pushes your folds apart with his nose, inhaling your scent, his eyes growing dark with lust. “You smell delicious. I always wondered. Had to stop myself from sniffing my gloves after you climaxed. Not professional you know.” 

The musky tang of your pussy fills his senses, and his tongue darts out and dips into your slit, finding the swollen bud and licking it with just the right pressure that makes your toes curl and stars pop into your vision. 

Your hand rests on his head, tugging his beautiful dark locks, his name falling from your lips without barriers. Your hips rock against him, moaning, then let a sob as his lips suction around your clit. His fingers, free from the gloves at last, probe your entrance, scissoring inside to prepare you for what was to come before they curl up into that gummy patch that he knew too well. 

The sensations flood you, and the sheer knowledge of knowing you had Zayne touching you this way, unbound by the usual rules was sending you into a frenzy. Incoherent noises leave your mouth, crying out hotly as he teases the orgasm from you, your body shivering from the intensity. 

He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand and takes in your appearance, so soft and satisfied on his table, a dreamy look in your eyes.

“Are you prepared for the after?” he asks, you nod, more than eager to experience him. A sly smile crosses his face before he reaches over into the little chest of drawers by the table and pulls out a condom. 

“Hospitals have free condoms. It would be impractical to not use one when it’s on hand.” He explains seeing your questioning look and stands to undo his pants. You watch curiously as his cock is finally freed, eyes widening as it faces you, so impressive and veiny, standing proudly with a slight curve in its length. His pubes were neatly trimmed at the base, ebony curls visible behind the shaft. As he starts to roll on the condom, you feel your whole body heating up in anticipation. 

He leans down to kiss you before taking your feet and resting them on his shoulders, his cock at the perfect angle to enter you. As he sinks into your welcoming heat, you let out a sigh of longing, feeling the delicious stretch of muscle as he pushes up inside you, gasping as you feel his full length sheathe itself. As he bottoms out, his eyes close in bliss, hardly daring to believe that after all this time, he is finally getting to fulfill this private dream. 

Each stroke has him brushing against your gspot and kissing your cervix as he paces himself, feeling the primal urge to take you roughly and selfishly calling at his self-control. A growl leaves his throat as you whimper, straining towards him as the both of you struggle to keep a grip on reality. He feels the seductive way your walls clench around him, hears the soft noises you make, sees your face contort in pleasure with every roll of his hips. 

“Oh you feel so good,” he pants hotly, glasses askew, almost at the tip of his nose as he thrusts. “Clenching me so needily. Gonna milk me dry.”

Your response is a shuddering whimper, your back arching greedily to feel all of him, creating the perfect curvature to brush your clit against the base of his erection with each push of his hips. He feels the little bud on his heated skin, your combined fluids dripping onto his shaft, slickening the bundle of nerves with each stroke. 

“Be a good girl and cum on my cock the way you do on my fingers.” Zayne’s voice is husky as he tries to hold on, damned if he came before you. “I know you want to. I can feel the way your walls are spasming. They always do this pattern before you orgasm.”

The fact that he had memorized this knowledge of you was too much and you let go, your voice filling the room as you climax. Zayne’s hips stutter as he feels you around his length, pussy fluttering so him. His pace quickens, the sound of slapping skin becoming more and more urgent, his balls hitting your ass each time as he chases his orgasm. 

A shiver passes through his body as it happens and he buries himself in your warmth. You hum in satisfaction as you feel his cock twitch and pulse inside you as he spills his load. He pants, sweat on his forehead as he bends down to kiss you again, carefully lowering your legs which burn from the stretch as they settle on the stirrups. 

Threading your fingers through his hair, you brush your noses together, smiling shyly at him as he smirks, his eyes closing as he catches his breath.

“Can I see you outside of my office sometime?” he asks and you laugh at the invitation. 

“Are you asking me out on a date after having sex just once?” you tease as he grips the base of the condom and slides out, your pussy feeling the loss keenly. 

“I have been wanting to for a while. I was just wondering if I was misreading the signals. But I think I have a solid answer now.” He helps you sit up and cradles your body against his, idly stroking your skin, before gently removing the sensors off your body. 

“Let’s get dressed,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead after a moment of cozy silence, and the both of you hunt down your clothes. As he fixes his tie, Zayne passes by his computer and lets out an amused huff. 

“Something funny?” you ask as you button your blouse.

“The sensors definitely gave enough information to make anyone’s head spin.” You walk over and snort as you see the window, full of sharp spikes. 

“Well, at least I am guaranteed you had a good time.” Zayne’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he pulls you in for another kiss. 

“I’m not changing my doctor,” you reassure him as you pull away. There’s amusement in his gaze when he replies. 

“Oh, definitely not. I think if the Hunter’s Association ever sees this record, they’ll heavily advise you to remain with the same healthcare professional.” 

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating support banner by @/ cafekitsune @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @actuallysaiyan

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader

contents: fluff, suggestive. arranged marriage au. hints of slow burn. you like playing hard to get and he loves calling you his wife. 1.4k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ I had to deposit my messy thoughts somewhere and this headcanon post was the result.

part two here. ꒱

⭒ Arranged marriage with Sylus where he prefers to call it a “strategic partnership” as a means of appearances to flaunt that he has it all—an empire, riches, strength, influence and now a darling wife who waits for him at home. You’re not so much as a random choice, Sylus had been watching you from afar for a while and in exchange for his protection in the N109 zone he strikes a deal with you to play a simple role. You have every reason to be wary of him and know to keep your wits about yourself, but even you acknowledge that your chances are better with him. Though, if you asked him how he was so certain you’d agree to his proposal he’d admit that he wasn’t but he knew you’d consider it if he had an advantage over you.

⭒ He sets his terms and conditions—you reside in his humble abode, wedding ring always worn on your finger, and attend events with him as a pretty accessory on his arm to contribute to his image. But he’ll never admit that he actually enjoys your company at business functions that often feel dull to him. You are more than welcome to spend your days as you please so long you don’t cause him trouble, and that also means you have his black card privileges to spoil yourself rotten. Of course, he accommodates most requests you may have like sleeping in separate rooms if that’s what you wish (and redecorating because his furnishing decisions are quite bleak).

⭒ Luke and Kieran can sense that their boss feels something for you despite his nonchalance toward this little arrangement. It starts off small, it always does—Sylus takes note of your morning and night routine, your picky eating habits and has the chef make adjustments to your preference, how he sees you out in the gardens and come back with spring tulips to brighten the space and the next week he already replaced the slowly withering flowers with fresh ones. The twins whisper among themselves that he’s often less annoyed and irritated when you’re around, and their boss wouldn’t go through the trouble of being considerate unless he cares for you. It’s almost exciting for them both to witness a budding romance unfold before their very eyes and they do offer a helping hand here and there to keep things interesting.

⭒ Sylus thinks it’s adorable how you keep trying to resist him and that’s precisely the reason he loves seeking you out just to watch your resolve crumble under his touch. He finds you in the kitchen preparing a snack and cages you from behind with his hands planted on either side of you against the counter. “Hey kitten, I thought I’d find you in here.” You feel his hot breath down your neck as he pushes your hair aside just enough to lay a soft kiss on your shoulder. He chuckles when you comment that he’s being awfully touchy with you, and he purposely moves closer so that his chest is pressing against your back. “Perhaps I just can’t keep my hands to myself where you’re involved. Besides, you’re my wife now. I think I have the right to touch you whenever I like.”

⭒ You remind him that you’re his wife in title only, but that doesn’t discourage his flirtation and teasing as he allows you to nudge past him. He follows you into the common area and takes a seat on the couch, spreading his legs wide and taking up a lot of space. His gaze is settled on you as he pats his thigh and his lips curl into a smirk. “Come here, wife.” You naturally scoff meanwhile you place the plate of seasonal fruits on the side table and situate yourself closest to the armrest, taking a bite into a juicy red strawberry as you ignore his piercing stare.

⭒ For someone who always gets what he wants, Sylus isn’t used to being defied like this. And had it been anyone else his patience would wear dangerously thin, but he supposes that you’re a special exception because he seems to enjoy the chase and claiming its reward. With one small gesture, he drags you across the couch by a gravitational pull and you squeal when the swirling red easily turn and maneuver you so you’re forced to straddle him and your hands prop on his shoulders for support. “There, much better. Comfy? This is the best seat in the house.” His gaze locks with yours, and he thinks you huffing and frowning at him is simply cute. He firmly grabs your wrist with the bitten strawberry in your hand and lifts it to his mouth for a sweet taste.

⭒ “No fair… using your Evol against me like this.” You grumble under your breath as you gently trail your thumb from his chin to the corner of his mouth where the strawberry juices began to spill. Then an impulsive thought takes over and you pinch his cheek between your fingers, creating a sticky mess on his face. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself. That’s for treating me like a sack of potatoes.” He chuckles once more, his hand falling on your hip and he gives you a light squeeze. “Oh, I do have every intention of fully enjoying my wife tonight.” And by that, he means taking you out for a joyride on his motorbike and feeling your arms wrapped around him tightly as the engine roars through the streets under the night sky and sinking moon. Sylus would never engage in any intimate acts you weren’t ready for, but he loves seeing you fluster at his suggestive remarks.

⭒ As the weeks cross over into months, you never imagined that you’d be spending so much time with Sylus outside of your agreed terms. He’s everywhere in every waking moment of your life even when he’s not there physically. You’re learning new things about him each day and you (begrudgingly) like being around him—even when he can sometimes be a playful bully toward you. When he’s gone for long stretches of time to deal with negotiations and other important matters in the N109 zone, you can feel your heart yearning for him but you’d never say that you miss him out loud when you think he's still toying with you. But with the way he cares for you like you’re both in a real and genuine relationship, it’s hard to know his true intentions and keep your feelings buried deep inside your chest for long.

⭒ You accidentally confirm that Sylus does harbor romantic feelings for you when you carelessly bring up your replacement in a lighthearted joke. You’ve never seen his face falter so quickly at your words as he averts his gaze for a moment to collect himself—a hint of vulnerability in his crimson hues. “I wouldn’t have found a new wife.” He shakes his head and tells you, his voice a little rougher than before. You don’t know what to say, but you manage a soft “No?” that reaches his ears. “No. I wouldn’t have been able to replace you, kitten. You’re it for me. The only one. No one could fill the void you’d leave behind.”

⭒ You and Sylus have kissed before, but this is the first time you’re initiating it. As you brush your lips against his, there’s a softness you never noticed. His hand slips around the small of your back and he pulls you close against him, returning your kiss with the same tenderness as though savoring the taste of you. You lean back after a moment, your palm meeting his cheek in a sweet embrace. “You know, I'm still getting used to the idea that I’ve fallen for you.” You can see him returning back to normal when he offers you a cocky smirk. “And yet here you are. In my arms, with your lips on mine. I think you’re not being entirely honest, my beautiful wife.” Sylus has waited a long time to hear those words from you but you don’t need to know that right now.

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference]reacting to their s/o calling them husband/wife for the first time

I’ve finished the first chapter of the long fic about Universe 7 (Anytime it rains). As soon as my second beta reader gives me the okay, I’ll post it. While I wait, I’ve written the first headcanon (out of three I’m definitely planning to write and post in the next few days) and picked up the drawing of Steb I’d left unfinished. I’m slow, as usual, but English isn’t my first language, and I’m juggling a lot of things at once. Enjoy!

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 | poster: | Jayce poster | | Silco poster | |Silco +self insert poster 1| | Steb poster | if you want to read the fluff longfic with vander and his happy family + Silco x reader you can find it here! ↠ Masterlist

Jayce:

-This man is planning to put a ring on your finger as soon as possible, okay? -Between the academy, public appearances, and both theoretical and practical studies, there isn’t a single moment when he’s really in the right mindset to bring up the topic -The worst part is that, deep down, he’s terrified of putting pressure on you -That’s why, the first time he hears you refer to him as “my husband” during a gala with noble families, he almost chokes -He has to gather all his strength not to grab the interlocutor by the shoulders and ask if they also heard you say that word -He’ll try to keep his composure, maybe responding to your remark with, “Yes, exactly. Her husband really did say/do/design that.”

Viktor:

-It’s not a thought he’s ever really entertained; it never crossed his mind -Part of it is that science is his priority, and part of it is that marriage doesn’t seem like something meant for people like him, -The first time you call him “your husband”, that thought suddenly becomes real in his head, and he can’t help but lean against a wall and wait for the other person to leave -“So, I’m your husband now, huh? Mmm… I don’t mind, a bit pretentious, though…” he jokes, making you roll your eyes -Now, more than ever, he has no idea what to do. He’ll give you a bronze ring from a machine he’s building -“Until I can get one worthy of you.”

Ekko:

-Yes -That’s it -The end -Okay, seriously. The idea of being certain that something will last forever is probably his greatest wish -The first time you call him your husband, he doesn’t see it coming -“Wait, you’re married?” -“I was talking about you, Ekko.” -The moment you say it, he points to his chest, you see his lip tremble slightly, and his eyes grow shinier -He won’t stop talking about it for a week, and at least once a day, he’ll ask if you still want to marry him, if you’re sure, if you love him -No rings before S2; the promise is made by drawing something for each other on your masks and clothes -After S2, he still can’t afford a ring, but now that life is more stable, he can start thinking about a more traditional gift, like a piece of jewelry

Vander:

-This man is ravenous for any family role you might offer him—fiancé, father, husband. Anything goes -The first time you call him “husband”, he plays it cool but will seize the first opportunity to return the favor by telling a customer you’re married -As soon as he can, he’ll squeeze your hand, even under the counter -The idea of being married and having a complete family is everything he’s ever wanted -He won’t stop calling you “my beautiful wife/husband” from that moment on.

-You said it first; you can’t take it back. Now you have to get married

Silco (old man):

-This man’s only sin is loving too much, but I’ll save that reflection for another post -Having no ties other than his illegitimate daughter doesn’t make him someone who’s particularly keen on formalities -The first time you call him “your husband” is in front of Sevika, and he slowly turns to look at you, while she slowly turns to look at him -“Did I... miss something?” Sevika asks, but he doesn’t reply, still perplexed, before glancing at her and saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” -He’s relieved but doesn’t show it. He can’t afford to just yet -As soon as he confirms you were serious, your name will be flamboyantly forgotten—he’ll constantly refer to you as “my wife/husband”

Silco (young):

-The man who survives on love -The first time you call him your husband is in front of Vander, and while Vander bursts out laughing, Silco chokes on his drink -“Are you serious?” He’s so happy that his pale iris are completely swallowed by his dilated pupils -He grabs a pen and draws a ring around your finger -To his credit, he works in a mine, so it’s hard to do better than that, but it becomes the goal that keeps him going -Completely focused on family, the future, and anything that sees the two of you together and happy

Steb:

-The first time you call him your husband is at a dinner among enforcer families, and being mute doesn’t stop him from stealing the spotlight -He whips around, blinking slowly with only his third eyelid in a gesture of confusion -When he’s 100% sure he understood what you said, his eyes widen, the small membranes under his eyes flutter madly, and even the barely visible gills near his jaw gasp for a moment -Someone says, “I didn’t know you were married,” and he immediately nods enthusiastically, not giving you time to take it back -Within 48 hours, he’ll have the ring ready

Jinx:

-The first time you call her “your wife”, she freezes -“What did you just call me?” -She’s used to being a little sister, a big sister, a daughter—she’d never thought she could be a wife. Family ties aren’t chosen, but the idea that someone would want her in their life so much they’d marry her feels incredible -“You want to marry me? Really? Why?” -She bursts into tears, and it’ll take at least 24 hours of cuddling in bed to calm her down -After that, she’ll run to her father to announce that she’s now a married woman

Vi:

-She might not be Silco and/or Vander’s blood daughter, but she’s inherited their deep desire for family -From her family’s tragic fate to Vander’s, she’s always seen family as the ultimate aspiration -When you call her “your wife” for the first time, she doesn’t notice right away, but a full minute later, she whirls around to look at you, as if to ask for confirmation -“Say it again.” -“...You need to buy bread?” -“No, all of it.” -“My wife needs to go buy bread.” -“Again.”

-"My... wife?"

-"Again"

Caitlyn:

-Has she thought about it? Yes -Was she planning to act on it? Not exactly -Caitlyn struggles with emotions and feelings, which is why she hesitates and takes her time -But when you first call her “your wife”, her brain completely shuts off—she just stares at you, unable to hear a single word being said -If you or someone else asks her a question, she’ll snap out of it and respond, -“My wife/husband said everything.” Even if it makes no sense as an answer, making you laugh and leaving the other person baffled

Mel:

-Not a single flicker of surprise—the first time you call her “your wife”, she remains completely composed -“So, I’m your wife?” she asks as soon as you’re in private, approaching you like a feline. You can almost hear the purr in her voice -She’s amused but also intrigued by whatever game you’re playing -The idea of marriage is complicated for her—on one hand, it feels like it would limit her freedom to act, while on the other, unresolved family issues seem to devour her at the mere thought of starting a new cycle -She’ll tell you to go ahead, to get married, but she’ll also ask for time -In the meantime, though, she’ll start using the term “husband/wife” with you—she likes the way it rolls off her tongue

Sevika:

-Between the work she does, the environment she lives in, and all the interesting circumstances of her life, marriage has never been on her radar -Not to mention that in Zaun, it’s not exactly a common practice—people just move in together and build families when they can, without much fuss over formalities or bureaucracy -The first time it happens, she’s playing cards with the other goons, and you casually ask if “your wife is winning” -Her first reaction isn’t even hers—it’s the others’. Dustin, the blond goon with the lazy eye, almost starts crying, embarrassing her -Don’t worry, she’ll make you pay for it at home -She won’t ask to formalize anything, but in true Zaunite fashion, she’ll consider you married, plain and simple

[muntitled]

Hangman

Pairings: The Salesman x Fem!reader

Summary: What's a broke girl to do when her university bills keep piling up and a sadistic Salesman offers to take all her problems away? All at one tiny little price.

Warning: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Kidnapping, SociallyAnxious!Reader, Blindfolds, Stalking, Knives, Blood, Stockholm Syndrome, Mentions of Suicide, Restraints, Anxiety, Smut (+18) mdni, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Erotophonophilia, Dom!Salesman, Sub!Reader, Dacryphillia, Sadomasochism, Oral Sex (m!rec), Deepthroating, Blood Kink

A/N: I'm not responsible for the media you consume

You hadn't initially intended on slitting your own wrist. That idea was birthed almost vicariously in the moment. If he hadn't stopped you, your corpse would have been found laying on a park bench, covered in its own wet blood that would have been dripping from its open wrist like a faucet. Surely his proposition would be better than that.

With your vision obstructed by a heavy blindfold, your hearing is ten times more prominent. You hear the sound of your own breathing, as if your body was taunting you with all the life it still begrudgingly held inside it. You also heard heavy yet elegant footsteps cross a marble floor. Then you hear the scratch of a vinyl as the very sounds of an orchestra bleeds into the atmosphere.

"Hello," said the Man in the gray suit who had accosted you in the park. You remember the way in which he had sat beside you.

No one had ever sat beside you. Not even any of your peers that roamed the university. Everything about your countenance was so worried and severe. You wore your money problems on your sleeves and that evidently warded off any chance of a social life you had hoped to have.

The moon was shining particularly bright and the stars were twinkling little spectators to your silent meltdown on the park bench. Your eyes had been reading and re-reading the email sent to you by the university. An urgent email amongst a sea of urgent emails begging you to 'please just pay them'.

"Don't slit your wrist," he had said, "Not before you've given yourself a chance to win at life first."

You had looked up at him with bloodshot eyes from all that crying over potentially getting kicked out of university. He hadn't melted at your expression, in fact he only smiled softly. "We ought to play a game-"

"I wasn't going to slit my wrist."

"You were just holding that boxcutter for fun, then?" He curled up an eyebrow, leading both of your gazes down to the pocket box cutter that sat in your lap, the blade extended.

"I'm not in the mood to play a game."

"Not even at the cost of your university fees?" Your eyes snapped up to him then. He sat a healthy distance away from you. The space between you both was filled with possibilities so endless it was becoming uncomfortable to breathe. "How much do you owe them now?"

"That's none of your business," you were on the verge of gathering your things. Your boxcutter and your pride.

Perhaps you could kill yourself somewhere else, preferably without a man accosting you about the embarrassing state of your funds.

"I could pay for your university fees, you know," His words morphed into an anchor, keeping your butt firmly planted to the park bench. A midnight runner passed by you two. An evening breeze blew through your scalp and the goosebumps descended.

"Of course, you'd have to win first."

Anyone could see the conflict warring within your irses.

"This is how people get sex trafficked," you'd said, "Absolutely no thank you," How utterly in control you had been! A girl with a firm head on her shoulders.

He only laughed then. He laughed and laughed, so much so he had to politely clear his throat.

"You were about to kill yourself. Don't pretend to have any self preservation now," his words had struck a cord deep within the inner workings of your soul. Your face heated as you hid yourself, tucking your chin against your chest. You did suddenly feel remarkably silly and so incredibly juvenile.

"Don't worry," he had said with an almost lopsided grin, "It's your lack of self preservation that I find so incredibly intriguing, hence I'm asking for one game."

It was only one game.

One game and if you were lucky enough to win, you might coast through the rest of university stress-free. Like a normal 20 year old with normal 20 year old problems. Boyfriends. Clubbing. Whatever else all those girls did when they huddled together in their magnificent little groups. You could be a part of them. For once you had to give yourself the opportunity of feeling like a member of society.

"Are these restraints a necessary element of our game?"

As you sit in this room- a room he had brought you too- blindfolded- you tell yourself that you are giving yourself a chance to be a normal 20 year old. That's why you were currently restrained to a leather chair. The restraints held your wrists to the armrests and your and your ankles to the feet of the chair. This led to the slight and uncomfortable spreading of your legs- a dangerously vulnerable position to be in when you were wearing nothing but a university jumper and a pleated skirt.

You quickly find out that you didn't like to be restrained.

Your chest rises and falls a little higher with every sharp intake of your breath as you will yourself into calmness. Freaking out now seemed completely silly.

Almost as silly as letting a stranger bring you to his hidden location.

Had you no sense of self preservation at all?

Were you a walking piece of meat, waiting for the first predator to sink its teeth into you?

Has that predator finally arrived?

"The restraints are unfortunately a necessary element.” He says, softly, “The human body tends to get jittery when it's met with unforeseen stimuli, and I don't want you running out on me."

That lets the panic solidify itself even more in your bones. This man walked as if he was a perfectly stand up guy and that helped in your decision of letting him bring you here.

Nothing seemed particularly wrong with him at first glance.

His face has all the workings of a perfectly normal man. He looked like he was in possession of a cushy, stable job with pensions and benefits. A salesman.

He looked like he attended his kids soccer matches on the weekends.

He looked married to a beautiful woman who looks good in mom jeans and baked brownies for her Wednesday night book club.

He looked so painfully normal.

But the panic is rising, the more that ‘danse macabre’ fills the room.

"C-Could you at least play something else," You are fidgeting now and it causes him to raise a brow. "Danse macabre is just," you attempt to swallow but your tongue is completely dry, "-incredibly unnerving, right now."

You try to massage your wrists in the restraints and you breathe through your nostrils as a phantom pain shoots through your legs. The need to move was eating you alive.

"You know your classical music," The man regarded you with slight intrigue as he folded the piece of material he had once used to obstruct your vision. He places it on a tiny coffee table before you. "Interesting for a kid your age. Do you know the story behind it?"

"Of course, I do, why do you think I'm nervous?" You had his full attention now. You were almost drowning in it as he lowered himself to a leather chair directly opposite you.

You had never had anyone listen to you as intently as he does. No one bothered to hear what you had to say. The voices in your head were your only audience…

Now you have someone seated before you, so lax as he urges you to, “Go on, explain why it makes you so nervous.” It was completely addicting.

“W-Well,” you swallowed the air again. “Danse macabre quite literally means dance of death,” he sits back in his chair, his fingers tapping against his mouth.

“Why?” he asks in deeply monotony, as if you had captured him as much as he, evidently captured hou. Like you weren't the only one in restraints.

Your brows furrowed “Is this quiz apart of the game-”

“No. I just want to hear you talk.” He says as he reaches over the side of his chair uncovering a sleek black briefcase veneered in expensive leather. He assures you with a single nod of his head that he's listening as he clocks open the briefcase.

“Well,” your eyes are on the whiteboard he pulls out, “Camille wrote this symphony all dark and depressing because it's supposed to sound like it's being played by death himself,”

The suited man smiles down at his busy hands as he lays your boxcutter on the coffee table beside the whiteboard. “I-It tells us that death is the great equalizer. It doesn't matter if you have money or you're about to be kicked out of university for insufficient funds-” he cracks a small smile at that, pulling out a whiteboard marker in the process, “the dance of death is inevitable for us all. Money can't buy you out of it.” You shake your head, “It's real medieval shit.”

You watch him smile again. It's devastatingly attractive which immediately raises the alarms in your own head. This man has restrained you in a chair, in an undisclosed location. For all you knew, death was very well the thing waiting for you at the end of all this.

But he wouldn't stop you from killing yourself, only to kill you himself, would he?

You'd heard about serial killers being raging narcissists. You would virtually be a lousy victim, having already wanted to die.

That thought calms you somewhat.

“We're going to play ‘Hangman’,” he turns the board to reveal a simple drawing of a gallow and a man hanging from it.

“Are you familiar with it?”

“Of course,” you nod your head, your nerves level somewhat at the sight of the little stick figure.

Just guess a letter to a mystery before the Hangman is drawn. These were children's games.

“For every word you get right, a semester of your studies is paid in full.” He smiles, warmly, watching the awe blossom across your face. “You'll get your degree and become the psychologist you've always wanted to be.”

Your brows furrow, “H-How did you know I-”

“Of course there's a penalty to the game,” you watch him erase the little stick figure, as he draws the little lines corresponding with the amount of letters in the mystery word. “If you don't guess the correct words in time,” Time stands still. “Well… The word get carved into your skin.”

You had never been a cautious individual. When your mother would fret and nag about your safety, you would roll your eyes. Everyone else always had self preservation for you. Why would you need it? Bad things rarely happen to boring people. The news coverage worthy stuff? You?

But here you were, fucking drowning in the Bad stuff.

"I'm not playing,” You begin to try and twist your wrist out of the restraints as your panicked eyes zero in on the blade seated on the desk. “I'm not fucking playing-”

“I'm afraid that isn't an option. What's your first letter?”

Despite the soundproof padding stylishly plastered against the sleek black walls you still scream "HELP-Oh my god- HELP”

He walks over towards you in large strides, clamping his hands in your skull and pulling your head back. He's much closer now. Closer than he had been at the park. His eyes are sparkling with intensity and a manic sort of quality that escaped you on your first meeting. Where were these eyes when you were still on that park bench, still able to choose to run far, far away to the nearest police station.

Where were these wild eyes then?

“Look at how scared you've gotten...” He laughs, in your face, “A scared, terrified little Doll-”

“Please let me go-”

“I'm not the one keeping you restrained here.” He lifts his hands as if he were completely crime-free, “You decided to play this game out of your own volition. You're restraining yourself, Doll”

“Jesus, that doesn't even make sense-” you cry, “HELP-”

He pulls a tighter grip around your hair, silencing your cries as a wince bleeds out of your instead..

“You don't wanna do that,” he says, staring deep into your glassy irses, “I have a thing for little girls with pretty tears-”

“Please don't hurt me-” you didn't wanna be a newspaper girl. You didn't want to be a nobody-turned-somebody because her death was so grisly it graced the front pages of a newspaper. That isn't the way your story was supposed to go and so you plead with the humanity inside him. You search for it under all that black ink filling his almond eyes.

Nothing.

They're absolutely black.

“Guess a letter, Doll."

You steal your nerves. Your shoulders slump.

“E-Every word has a vowel in it right?” his eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips against the side of your face. He seems like he's transforming into a completely different person right before your very eyes and it set you alight with fear.

Fear and something else.

“That's it, now we're getting somewhere,”

“I'll go with ‘A’,” a tense, mortifying silence stretches between you too. He begrudgingly removes his hand from your hair, patting down your head like the child he regressed you to as he strolled to the white board.

“Correct.”

He writes the letter ‘a’ twice on the little lines. The first one of the second line and the second one on the fourth line and almost with your brain slotting into place you raise your head. you wipe a stray tear on your shoulder before saying, “I-I- know what the word is.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Already?” Intuition was a scary thing. It was like a last resort, leaving you clamouring for hope.

“Care to share,”

“Is there an ‘r’” you look up at him. “I need to be sure.” Your legs are fidgeting in anxiety. Your fingernails dig into the leather under the armrest.

He is quiet as he draws an ‘r’ over the second last line.

“Macabre. The word is ‘macabre.’”

A slow almost predatory grin stretches across his face.

“How much did you say tuition was?”

Your heart stammers in its chest.

For those few moments you don't think about death. You don't think about blood. All you think about is that outstanding amount as you murmur a quiet, “₩3,893,852.”

You had it memorized.

The number that haunted your every waking hour, bleed from your lips like a prayer.

You watch as he lowers the white board marker to uncover a phone in his back pocket. He taps a few buttons and in a matter of moments- he turns his screen towards you.

What a remarkable day this had turned out to be.

“How do you know my banking details?,” you ask, squinting your eye at the screen, “Who are yo-”

“That round was too easy.” He moves to sit back down, “Here's your next word,” your heart falls when he only draws three lines underneath the gallow.

Three letter words could be the easiest or the most difficult when it comes to a game like this.

“A?’” you ask through wet lashes. Your only option was to hammer through the list of vowels.

“Ooh-” he pouts, before drawing a Hangman's head. “Try again.”

“E?”

He's silent as he draws a stick for The Hangman's body. The panic kickstarts once more.

“Shit-”

“That's not a letter?” He jests, “One more non-word and you're Disqualified, Doll.” His knee is bouncing up and down. As if everything in him was anticipating the end of the game. Your nerves are drowing in anxiety.

“I-”

“You can't just name every vowel under the sun, Doll. You don't have very many options remaining.” He draws the stick figures first arm.

4 chances left.

“O?” Your breath catches in your lungs. You watch as he throws his head back to lift his hips slightly, as if adjusting his pants. It almost immediately lowers your gaze to the prominent bulge there. Fuck. Not only was he anticipating your loss, he was getting off to the thought of it.

“Well done.” He writes ‘o’ in the second line. Right between the middle and end lines.

“Uh- ‘c’”

He adds another appendage to the stick figure. “3 more chances remaining.” He says, standing up. His arm jitters as he picks up the boxcutter in.

“G-” you ask through tears. He kneels in front of you, his eyes are almost as desperate as yours.

“You are the most fun I've had in years,” he admits, before turning to draw another appendage.

“Guess again, Doll,” the boxcutter extends and you cry.

“You don't have to do this,” You plead and he only sighs as he places his forehead against yours.

“You are such a brave little girl, you know that-”

“Oh my god-”

“2 more guesses.”

“‘T?” You squeak out so quietly, as your eyes squeeze shut.

He presses his lips to your right cheek and you melt. The fear all disappears and it's just you and him. Even on his knees, he's so large, so towering. It sets you alight with incomparable need.

“Well done, Doll- I'm so proud of you, " he sighs, “One more word, baby.”

“P- wait, No!" the sound barely makes it out of your mouth and looks down at you, chest rising and falling.

You hold your breath, eyes wide and wet and it makes him so fucking hard.

“Y- my answer is ‘Y’.” He exhibited all the signs of a sadist. Of course his word for you word be-

“That's my answer. “Toy”

A tense silence bleeds as he brings the boxcutter into your field of vision, and you're once again writhing in your seat. “Please- please no-”

“Fuck I'm gonna need to cum-” He admits gravely. Even more grave, even more harrowing, you're squirming in your seat. Lust balling deep within your cut. You're terrified but so utterly turned on.

Is masochism a symptom of loneliness?

“Please-”

He presses the blade to your leg and you both watch as he sinks the tip down onto your skin. For all those moments, you revel in the pain. The blade breaks skin and you cry out as droplets of blood grows pregnant along your thigh. Danse macabre crescendos and tears fall. As he swipes his finger along the drop of crimson.

“D-Did I not get it right?"

“”You got it right,” he admits, undoing the buttons of his blazer as he stands to his heavy feet once more. The menacing shadow of a God. He's humongous and you crane your neck back to look at him.

“my little winner-” he mumbles, planting a heavy hand on your head as his other hand rubs over his erection.

“I-If I got it right,” you mumble through your sniffles, “Th-Then why did you cut me?”

He looks down at you. The hand planted on your head moves down to the side of your face as he unzips his pants. Your heart is banging out of its cage as he lowers his pants just enough to have his hand slipping into his boxers.

He watches the blood smudged across your thigh.

“I just-” he curses as he uncovers his fully erect cock, leaking precum,“I just wanted to see your blood.” he admits gravely before bringing his cupped hand to your lips.

'Spit.’ He commands.

You're unable to look away. The precum beading the head of his cock slides down the thick veins along the length of it- all the way to the base. You want him in your mouth. Inside you. The need and the pain is an avalanche of contradictions.

He makes you feel so scared, so wanted.

“Don't make me ask again.” He says darkly, tilting your head up to look deep into his eyes.

His fingers prod at your lips and your mouth falls open as his hand delves inside. “Tongue out.” He whispers hoarsely, cursing once again when you roll your tongue out. Somehow incredibly obedient.

“You're gonna be a good girl for me, Doll?” He asks, bringing the tip of his cock to your lips. You nod cautiously, feeling yourself descend into a state of mind you'd never been at before. You feel so pliant with his hand still on your cheek as he guides his cock into your mouth. You feel completely reckless. Someone like you who spends her time studying and worrying. Right now you were made to feel completely empty.

“That's it-” he coos, looking so utterly pained as his cock slides against your tongue, “That's my Doll,” he thrusts in and out of your mouth and you just sit there. Quite literally a doll. You let him use you, feeling more useful now than you've ever felt in all your years of living. There is beauty in submission that has a wet spot forming along your panties. You writhe as he begins to fuck your throat, drawing out a moan from him in the process.

“Shit- you're such a good girl-” there's fire in his eyes as he thrusts in and out. His hands move to the back of your head, forcing you down deeper on his cock. The sounds of your struggle -the gagging- it has his cocm twitching in your mouth

“Fuck-” he grunts, breathing so heavily as you begin to writhe in your seat, needing air.

“I knew you were special, Doll- I knew you were so far beyond self preservation- it borders pathetic” the saltiness of his precum trickle down your throat and you attempt to stomp your feet as your cries vibrate around his cock.

“Look at your hips moving baby,” he says, “You like this as much as I do. You're on my side. Even if you think you aren't.” Your hips are circling as if you're searching for friction along the chair as he groans. “Tell me you're on my side.”

He pulls your mouth off his cock and you breathe in deeply. You're coughing as droplets of spit run down your mouth. Spit and tears. Your face shows it all.

Your voice is hoarse. “I'm on your-”

“F-Fuck- I'm gonna cum-" He brings his cock back to your lips, “All over that pretty fucking face- fuck,” your tears fall as he strokes cock, emptying cock over you face. You keep your eyes shut, letting the sound of his pleasure-filled groans shoot straight to your puffy clit.

“I'm not letting you go,” his thumb moves over the cum coating your face. He moves his thumb past your lips, letting the cum seep into your mouth. Saltiness and need.

He needed you.

“You're not?” You ask petulantly, sucking on his thumb like you've regressed right before him.

“I'm not.” He confirms, “My little winner.”

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