#if he wanted to make him clearly 'oh he just fucks up a lot' he WOULD have

[missdynamighttt]

acidentally snooping on bf! katsuki's phone and seeing something... kinky.

you were just on katsuki’s phone, playing subway surfers. you honestly didn’t even remember because the moment you accidentally swiped to his notes app, your eyes landed on a particular note titled “shit to try w/ her” and curiosity got the best of you.

at first, you thought it was something mundane—maybe new date ideas, training routines, or even a new recipes. but as soon as you opened it, your face went hot.

because it was a list. a very detailed list of all the filthy things katsuki wanted to do to you. some of it was stuff you’d already done—rougher, filthier things that had you squeezing your thighs together just remembering them. but then there were the others. the things he clearly hadn’t brought up yet.

shit to try w/ her

- overstimulating her (worse than usual. she looks so pretty when she cries on my dick)

- mirror sex while making her watch (want her to see how fuckin’ pretty she looks fallin’ apart.)

- recording it (for us only).

- thigh riding while i just sit back and watch (bet she'd whine so fuckin pretty too)

- more praise. (she likes that. she gets all shy. cute as fuck.)

- see how many times i can make her come in a single night.

your eyes widened at that last one. oh.

you kept scrolling, your thighs pressing together involuntarily. you knew katsuki was a freak, but seeing it written out like this, with all the little notes and thoughts he’d clearly been holding onto—made your breath hitch.

this was… a lot. not that you were opposed to most of it, but the fact that katsuki was sitting on this list, keeping it to himself, planning? that was almost hotter than the list itself.

you were still staring at the screen when you heard the bathroom door open. before you could react, a shadow loomed over you.

“the fuck you doin’?” katsuki’s voice was gruff, but he sounded relaxed—like he was toweling off his hair as he walked into the room.

you scrambled to lock his phone, but it was too late. the second he saw the look on your face, the way you were gripping his phone like you’d just uncovered a government secret, his eyes narrowed.

“…what did you see?” his voice was cautious now, tinged with suspicion.

you slowly turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “me? what are you doing making a list of all the filthy things you wanna do to me?”

katsuki froze .a slow, deep flush crept up his neck, spreading to his ears. his jaw clenched, his hands twitching at his sides like he wasn’t sure if he should snatch his phone away or act like nothing happened.

“…you weren’t supposed to see that.”

your smirk widened. “oh? and when was i supposed to?”

he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “dunno. when i fuckin’ brought it up.”

you leaned in, voice teasing. “well, damn. didn’t know you had all these filthy little fantasies about me.”

“shut up,” katsuki sputtered, face burning, his hand swiping for the phone. he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “fuckin’ kill me.”

you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “y’know, all you had to do was ask, baby.”

his fingers dug into your waist, his jaw clenching. “don’t—”

“i can’t believe you wrote it all down,” you teased breathlessly. “you’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.”

katsuki groaned, muffled against your neck. “i’m gonna kill you. you keep runnin’ that mouth, and i’ll start checkin’ shit off that list right now."

you bit your lip, feeling bolder. “you know… we could. cross something off the list.”

his eyes snapped to yours, darkening in an instant.

“…get on the bed.”

and then, without another word, he crushed his lips against yours and, well—you did end up checking something off that list that night. particularly, the last one.

you lost count somewhere after the third orgasm, but katsuki didn’t. oh no, he kept track. every time your body seized up, every time you sobbed his name, every time you gasped that you couldn’t take anymore—he whispered the number into your ear like a reminder.

“four,” he’d growled, dragging his thumb over your swollen clit. “look at you, fuckin’ cryin’ for me.”

“five,” he rasped later, his grip on your thighs tightening when you tried to squirm away. “told ya you could give me more.”

by the last one, your body was boneless, your voice gone, and your mind a hazy blur of pleasure. katsuki finally relented, collapsing beside you and pulling you into his chest.

you felt his lips press against your temple, his breathing uneven as he whispered, “fuckin’ champ.”

the morning after, you were sprawled across katsuki’s chest, his arm draped lazily around your waist as the sun peeked through the curtains. your entire body ached in the best way possible.

you groaned softly, shifting to get more comfortable, and his chest rumbled with a low chuckle, his fingers traced lazy patterns on your bare back. "you alive?"

"barely," you mumbled into his chest. "my legs hate you."

he chuckled, the sound vibrating beneath your cheek. "told ya you could take it."

you huffed a laugh, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. his crimson eyes were soft in the morning light, the usual sharpness replaced with warmth—and just a hint of smug pride.

“well, i didn’t know you were gonna go for the damn world record,” you teased. “how many times was it?”

his smirk deepened. “seven.”

your jaw dropped. “seven?”

“mhm,” he squeezed your waist. “you were real fuckin’ cute, too. cryin’, beggin’, squeezin’ me like that. thought you were gonna pass out on number six.”

your cheeks burned. “oh my god, stop.”

“why? can’t handle hearin’ how fuckin’ pretty you were last night?”

you covered your face with your hands, groaning. but katsuki was having none of it—he pried your hands away and pinned them to the mattress, leaning down until his lips brushed yours.

“seven,” he repeated against your mouth, grinning when you squirmed beneath him. “and next time? we’re goin’ for eight.”

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[goldenroutledge]

kiss you soon

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

word count: 1.7k

prompt: ❛ if you’re tired of kissing me, i’d better go. ❜

summary: three times where lando can’t get enough of you.

masterlist || be my valentine blurb event 💌

the first time.

“Just one more, darling.” Lando bats his eyelashes from where he sits in his makeup chair, with you lounging on a plush couch nearby. He’s filming an interview with Hilton today, so he got some touch ups from a makeup artist. His eyes glance at the door every so often to make sure she won’t be here to scold him for messing anything up. “Come on, please?”

You stand up, granting his wishes by kissing him gently. His fingertips brush your cheek as he deepens the kiss, clearly craving more than just a peck.

He smirks when he pulls away to look in the mirror, checking out the gloss on your lips that has transferred onto his. The crew on set will surely put two and two together. “Look at that baby, you made me pretty for TV.”

You giggle, pinching his cheek. “You need no help with that.”

Lando shrugs. “Maybe not. At least it will send a message, though.”

“You want all of your fans to know that you were making out with someone before the shoot?”

“Yes, it will put those nasty Norizz rumors to rest, and maybe the camera guy who’s been eyeing you since we got here will take a fucking hint.” Lando gives you his signature cheeky grin as his eyes roam your features lovingly. “Not that I can blame him.”

Heat creeps up your cheeks, and for that, you peck his lips one last time. “No more flattery, you’re on the job. That sweet talk won’t get you very far right now.”

“It’s gotten me far enough.” He muses cockily, laughing as you take a throw pillow from the couch and aim it for his head.

A few knocks sound on the door and the production assistant tells him that Max and the crew are waiting for him in the next room. Lando gets up, but not without blowing you a kiss through the air first.

You pretend to catch it, blowing one back to him. “Go get ‘em.”

“I’ll try!” Lando shouts, making his way to the nearby room where the interview is being filmed with his best friend.

Upon finally seeing Lando arrive on set, Max stands up from his own chair that reads ‘TALENT’ on the back of it. “It took you long enough! What was the hold up?”

Lando doesn’t respond verbally; the grin that spreads across his face is better at revealing what exactly he’s been up to this time. “Oh, right.” Max acknowledges, remembering that you’ve been with Lando in his dressing room all morning. “Does that explain why your lips are so shiny then? They didn’t do that to my lips.”

Lando laughs when he notices the candid moment between them is being captured by a camera, coincidentally being filmed by the same guy that he knows has the hots for you. “Apparently there’s a kissing scene in this. Y/n and I were just practicing.”

Max pretends to gag, shaking his head in faux disgust. “Alright then, I’m leaving.”

Lando turns to the camera man who looks almost stunned at the confession. So much for his PR training, it’s gone out the window by now. Months have gone by since he was last inside a Formula 1 paddock and it didn’t take long to wear off at all. “Make sure to keep that in the final cut, okay?”

–

the second time.

“You’re tense, honey.” Lando murmurs while his hands massage your shoulders as gently as they can.

“Tell me about it. I think I slept wrong.” You wince but lean into his touch, telling him to massage harder because it hurts so good.

“Or you’ve just been stressed out lately? Trying to be everything to everyone without taking care of yourself.” Lando suggests as if it’s obvious. There’s nothing he’s more attuned to than your well being, he’s always quick to notice anything that might be going on with you. It’s truly a blessing and a curse.

“Thank you, Dr. Norris, but I just have a lot on my plate right now. It’ll pass.”

“But I can’t just sit back and let you forget about yourself in the process.” Lando adds, planting a kiss to your exposed neck. “You deserve to relax, it just so happens that I can help with that.”

Your fingers run through his curls, letting your eyes flutter shut as he focuses more on leaving trails of kisses on your skin and less on massaging the tension from your muscles. “I think I need one of your yoga classes. Remember when we did yoga on the beach in Miami?”

“How could I forget? Stretching you out happens to be my favorite pastime.”

You gasp, smacking at his hand lightly. “Lando!”

“What? I meant stretching you out for yoga. Don’t tell me your mind went other places...”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“-ly funny. I know I am, baby. And I got your mind off things already, didn’t I?”

“That you did. Maybe you’re not such a bad doctor after all.” You sigh contentedly, turning around to pepper his lips with kisses. “And it pains me to say this, but I still have so much more work to do that I should be getting back to.”

“When was the last time you took a break?”

You smile against his lips, breaking away for a moment. “Doesn’t this count as a break?”

“No, it does not. I’m talking something that lasts longer than a few kisses before you go back to spending hours staring a hole through your laptop.” Lando trails his hands across your shoulders and down your back, never pulling away too far from you. “These knots won’t work themselves out. Just let me take care of you. Please?”

“Well since you asked so nicely…” Your hands travel from tangling in his hair to resting on his chest. “How about in 30 minutes from now?”

Lando groans, you can feel the vibrations against your lips. He finally pulls away, putting some distance between you two. “Fine. If you’re tired of kissing me, I’d better go.”

“No! I’m never tired.” You whine more urgently than you mean to, surely boosting his ego more than it needs to be boosted. To prove it, you kiss him once more.

It’s short-lived as he pulls back with a smug grin. “I can tell, darling.”

“You’re a tease. I won’t even be able to focus now, thanks to you.”

Lando makes his way towards the door, deciding to leave you to your work. The sooner you finish, the sooner you’ll kiss him again. “Good. When you’re done trying to focus, you know where to find me.”

–

the third time.

It’s a McLaren 1-2 for Lando and Oscar to kick off the season.

Everyone in papaya rushes to parc ferme, ready to greet the drivers in an aggressively eager embrace, you included. From the moment Lando stood on top of his car, waving a fist in the air, you were cheering at the top of your lungs.

Lando hops down from his car and rushes to where you’re standing behind the barriers, passing by his team before he gets to you. He engulfs you into his arms, and neither of you care about the sweat that he’s accumulated during the race.

“You did it!” You shriek, and the sound is surely picked up by the nearby camera capturing your interaction. “I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

“What did I tell you?” Lando muses, reminding you of the confidence he’s had all weekend about winning today. The quiet promise your boyfriend made that he’d win this race for you, and he did. But the people didn’t need to know that. It was just fine being a kept secret between the two of you.

Neither of you had made it a point to confirm your relationship publicly, wanting to keep your romance under wraps for as long as you could. You can’t risk anyone trying to pop your love bubble. It was only because of Lando’s insistence that you were in parc ferme with everyone to begin with.

Lando proudly embraces his team and Oscar follows suit. The two drivers congratulate each other and the crowd roars once again. Lando hears you better than anyone else, though maybe he’s just acutely aware of the sound of your voice. He smiles at you, helmet off this time, and stops in his tracks.

“You coming? What are you waiting for?” Oscar questions, realizing that Lando isn’t keeping up alongside him on their way to the cooldown room.

“Give me one second!”

Before his teammate can ask why he’s rushing back to you, Lando’s lips are on yours and he’s kissing you for the world to see, surprising you both. You always knew Lando could be impulsive, but this was different. It doesn’t take long for you to melt into his hold, smiling against his lips with pride and it sends the crowd into a frenzy.

The look you give him is one of astonishment, as if to say, ‘I can’t believe you just did that!’. If nothing else, it’ll give you something to talk about later. Lando walks away cooly, receiving a nudge in the ribs from Oscar as they walk away.

“Looks like you have more than just the win to celebrate, eh?”

Lando smirks, shrugging to play off his public display, or declaration, of love for you as if it was meant to happen. And in many ways, it was. “Something like that.”

There’s nothing quite like standing on the top step of the podium, it’s a feeling that Lando could get used to. As long as you’re here cheering him, he plans on it. The Australian sun shines onto the podium and the trophies sparkle from its golden rays. ‘God Save the King’ plays throughout the paddock, and Lando spots you front and center in the crowd.

He winks, blowing a kiss in your direction as you beam with joy. The questions will be endless as to who Lando was kissing below the podium, but he doesn’t care. When this is over, he’ll be able to kiss you with the world watching, like nobody’s watching at all. Lando can say confidently that is by far his biggest win of the day.

💌: comments & reblogs are always appreciated! feel free to request more from the be my valentine blurb event!

taglist: @marjorieswrld @n3versatisfied @freyathehuntress

(add yourself here!)

[jammyjen26]

Valentines Day.

February 14th.

The day of love, one could say.

Simon doesn’t forwardly show his attention, he doesn’t say it, but his actions show how much he cares and loves you.

You weren’t expecting much for valentines day, in fact you weren’t expecting anything.

However, after all your friends send pictures in the group chat about what their boyfriends, fiancés and even husbands did. You envy them.

Of course, you know Simon loves you. The man is whipped, he’s at your beck and call. Would even kneel before you is asked to.

But that doesn’t mean that you wish for rose petals leading you to the bed, a bunch of gifts on the bed in a hotel, and an intimate night with your boyfriend.

You sigh helplessly and turn off your phone, you glance at hime as he scrolls on his phone. You sigh even louder to get his attention.

he glances at you, looking you up and down. “What’s wrong with you, love?”

“Oh nothing, just thinking and daydreaming. Happy valentines day, Simon.” you smile and kiss his cheek, batting your eyelashes.

“Happy valentines day to you too.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer, you were hoping he’d get the hint.

The day goes by like usual, breakfast, grocery shopping, him working out, nap time, and then lunch.

By the time the clock turns 6pm, you’re bored. You want to go out.

“Love, get dressed.” He says abruptly.

“Huh? Why?” You ask confused although excited, expectant.

“I’m taking you out for dinner. You’ve been sulking all day, lovie.” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

You get up and peck his lips, squealing. As you turn around and make your way to the bedroom.

You shower and take your time getting ready, making sure your dress looks right, your hair, your makeup, your shoes, accessories, and everything else.

He of course drowns you in compliments, rough hands touching your hips, making you spin for him to get a better look.

The dinner was amazing, steak and mashed potatoes, although Simon seems a little jittery than usual.

After dinner, you get in the car. However he isn’t going in the direction of your guy’s apartment.

“Simon? Where are you taking us?” You’re confused obviously.

“Got a surprise for you, dove.” He grumbles out, hand squeezing your thigh.

You’re clearly ecstatic considering the big grin on your face. He turns into this probably 100 floor hotel, underground parking lot and then leads you inside.

Your legs are shaking as the elevator goes up higher and higher, 20, 30, 40,…60! Ding.

He leads you to a room, pulling out a keycard. The room is dark, he turns on the lights. There’s rose petals on the ground.

“No way…Simon..” Your voice is already cracking. You follow the petals, leading you into this large bedroom. There’s gifts covering the whole bed.

You stop and just sob, grateful and feeling loved. However, you turn around and there he is. On one knee.

“I’m not much of a talker. I have walls around me, I’m not perfect. I’ve killed people, I’ve done horrible things, and yet. You somehow look at me like I’m the world, you understand me, take care of me, and love me. When I’m wrong, although I raise my voice, you stay calm and sit me down. You make me talk through things instead of running away from the problem and the world. I don’t know how to explain my feelings for you. But I hope this is enough for you to see how much I love you.” With a shaky breath, he continues. “Will you marry me?”

Your hands cover your mouth, sobbing, you grab onto him and nod. “Yes, yes..fuck yes.” He slides the ring onto your shaky finger. It’s perfect.

It’s gold with a big diamond but not too big.

Today is the best day ever and it marks a new step in your relationship.

You best believe he made you cream on the damn flower petals on the bed not even ten minutes after the proposal.

(This is late cause I was procrastinating!😍)

[seitmai]

Many thoughts, so read more it is

"Didn't you hear that? Someone's crying" "That's just a girl who got what you promised me", she retorts, but it only makes him cringe. If this is how she imagined the sound of a consenting couple, he sure as fucking hell didn't want her in his bed.

👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

For a moment he wondered if he should call Phoenix or even Penny to make sure he wasn't doing more damage than good, but then he saw how a ring caught the light from the Hard Deck entrance.

Fair, I would trust Phoenix and Penny with my life more than anyone 🫡

"Are you...", he begins before he stops himself. Was he really just about to ask you if you were ok?

Clearly not lol

The woman for the impossible jobs and who you call when shit hit the fan and you need someone to fix it. A woman tough as nails and level-headed who always has a backup plan for the backup plan to make sure you got your people home safe and you were fucking brilliant at it. They named you after the goddess of victory for a reason. Whenever he was on a mission you were responsible for he felt a lot calmer and he knew he wasn't the only one. People trusted your competence and your judgement. They trusted you.

Period

"Then say what you need Nike. Please?", he pleads feeling completely helpless. He has never seen you so utterly terrified and there is a feeling rising in his chest that makes him want to knock on the door of whoever left you so scared and very impolitely beat the shit out of them.

Valid 🤷🏻‍♀️

"It's ok, Nike. I am here", his voice is low and raspy as he places one hand on your back and bends down, placing the other under your knees to pick you up bridal style. He felt the way your body seemed to relax in his hold, face buried in his neck as he rested his head on yours before he murmured into your hair. "Let's get you home"

🥺🥺🥺

The thought that someone treated you so badly was infuriating him. You had dedicated your life to protecting people, making sure that they get back home to their families and loved ones unharmed. To treat someone like you bad enough to send you spiralling called for a grade-A asshole and a part of him hoped you'd tell him the name later. He would gladly pay that asshat a visit and he would bet, the rest of the dagger squad would happily tag along.

Oh they are ready

"I'll be right back, Nike", he hears you stifle a sob while you tremble. Whether it's the chill night air or your fear, he is not quite sure and so he leans to the side to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You tell me when you are ready", he adds, pulling you into an embrace as the two of you sit here in his car. He'd stay here with you for hours if you needed it. "Promise you'll come back" "I promise", he looks down at you and you nod. Letting go of his hand so he can get out of the car. Brad cannot remember any other time when he ran up the steps to his house this fast, unlocking the door and grabbing the quilt from his couch before he gets right back to you.

I'm obsessed with how considerate and thoughtful he is 🥹

"Told you, I'd come for you Nike", he steps closer and gently places the blanket around your shoulders and when he picks you up again he feels how you instantly melt into his embrace. "I'll always come for you"

🥹🥹🥹

"I'm back", he announces himself and sees how your entire body relaxes, shoulders lowering and fingers no longer playing nervously with your ring. "I'm gonna take your shoes off first"

His communication skills are chefs kiss 👏🏻

He is looking up at you from his crouched position. He wants to seem as non-threatening as possible for what comes next.

🥺🥺🥺

"Whatever it is, if I can do it, I will" "Can you help with the stockings?" You don't meet his eye, probably embarrassed to make yourself vulnerable in front of a coworker like this but right now Rooster doubts that there is anything in this world he wouldn't do for you.

I'm melting🥺

You give him a small nod, hand moving from his shoulder closer to the crook of his neck, fingers lingering on his scars and Brad couldn't help but close his eyes at the gentle touch, willing his body to stay perfectly still to not destroy this moment of peace. Not for you and not for him.

They both deserve this little moment of peace 🥹

"Thank you Rooster", he's had your voice in his ear so often, assertive and commanding, but now your voice was gentle, as much a caress for him as your fingers. "For you, always", he looks up at you and for a moment he feels like the world stops turning and he wonders if given another chance at a different time, you would return to his home and allow him to prove to you that there were men out there who could treat you right.

"No" "What no?" "No", you looked Hangman straight in the eyes, pretty brow arched, and everyone in the room could feel the fury start to simmer in Hangman's veins at the way you're dismissing him and his points so easily. "No is a complete sentence, Lieutenant Seresin. Considering your reputation as base casanova I was hoping you'd understand the concept" That was the moment Rooster knew that he liked you.

Iconic, no notes 👏🏻

He knows that this is far more than a simple statement. It is your way to ask for him to stay, to have him around for your comfort. It's not like he doesn't want to, but there is a part of him that wonders if this would be something you'd come to regret the next morning. He had always known you as someone who loved her personal space, avoiding even handshakes whenever you could. He had his hands all over you tonight and he didn't want to push his luck, but then he saw your pleading eyes and he smiled down at you.

Urgh I can't with how sweet he is 🥹

He couldn't remember the last time he had been this soft around someone and yes, the circumstances were shitty at best, but there was a part of his heart that revelled in the gentleness of these moments.

It was probably his mom which makes this hit even harder 🥹😭

When he reached the bed where you had curled up already, he crouched down to be on eye level with you. "Tell me what you need from me", his voice is soft and quiet as he talks, pushing a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. He sees how you try to sink even deeper into the pillow as if you wanted to hide from him and that makes his heart ache. "Remember Nike. Whatever you need as long as I can make it happen, you'll get it" "Can you...", your voice is barely above a whisper and when he tries to meet your gaze you turn around and scoot over on the bed to make room for him. "I just really don't want to be alone"

🥺🥺🥺

Never Alone

paring: Bradley Bradshaw x female!IC!reader (callsign Nike )

wordcount: ca. 3700 (only because this will be a multi-part thing XD)

synopsis: When Bradley stumbles out of the Hard Deck with a pretty tag chaser he has a plan for the night. Take her home, fuck her, kick her out. Not that this was something he did often but with the stress at work he needed to let off some steam. That is until he hears someone crying and his night takes a turn he hadn't expected at all.

note: I initially intended to post the whole thing (currently at almost 12000 words 🤯 ), but I really wanted to post a new piece and since I started a lot of new WIP instead of finishing something I thought this would be a good idea. Also, my Rooster debut so to speak (you can thank @mynameismckenziemae for this one. The fact that Rooster is the hero in this one is kind of on her 😅 . Thanks for helping me decide and for listening to my rambles on the regular. I am really thankful for the support) and I hope you all like it. And you know that navy inaccuracies are a given with my stuff, but this time I went a bit more ham than usual. The role of IC (Incident Commander) is existing in crisis and natural disaster management but fuck if I know if some work for the Navy. I made all of that up for the sake of the plot. Don't like that, please skip this one. And last but not least, yes this is yet again very self-indulgent stuff and it will get only worse with the next part, so if you don't like it, click off 😘

Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): plus-size!reader, military/navy inaccuracies, non-canon (not even sure if this is canon compliant so, take that as you will), allusion to trauma/dissociative episode, written by a non-native speaker

|| Masterlist ||

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics banner by @firefly-graphics gif by @jensens-ackles

!!!Minors do not interact! I block blank blogs/without age/Minors!!!

When Bradley stumbles out of the Hard Deck with a pretty tag chaser on his arm he knows how this is gonna end. Take her home, have some fun and then kick her out. He wasn't one to indulge often, but considering how Maverick had been on his ass during training all week, he really needed to let off some steam. His arms were wrapped around her waist, lips wandering over her neck as he manoeuvred her back towards his Bronco until he stopped in his tracks.

There it was again. He had almost missed it with the busty brunette giggling into his ear, but he was sure that he heard right. "Hey Casanova, I am down here", she puts a hand on his cheek to pull his focus back to her," You wanted to show me a good time, remember?" But Rooster couldn't focus on the way her hands were roaming his body or the way she began to kiss his jaw, leaving a trace of lipgloss in her wake. "Didn't you hear that? Someone's crying" "That's just a girl who got what you promised me", she retorts, but it only makes him cringe. If this is how she imagined the sound of a consenting couple, he sure as fucking hell didn't want her in his bed.

Untangling himself from her limbs he walked over to the dark place next to a huge palm tree. The curled-up figure was barely visible in the shadows, but the sniffling was getting louder the closer he walked. "Hey what about me?", the woman whines, stomping her high heel sandal-clad foot on the ground. "Go in and find yourself another set of tags", he growls back annoyed, regretting the tone of his voice and the volume the moment he sees the figure flinch.

This was bad.

For a moment he wondered if he should call Phoenix or even Penny to make sure he wasn't doing more damage than good, but then he saw how a ring caught the light from the Hard Deck entrance. He knows that ring. The silver laurel branches that are winding around a delicate finger. He has seen it more than once.

"Nike?", he freezes for a moment unable to compute the situation. He had been at the Hard Deck all night and was sure he would have spotted you in the crowd. Not to mention that you weren't one for bars. You said as much yourself whenever one of the others had invited you for an evening out. "Hey Nike, it's me. Rooster", he tries to make himself small as he approaches, not wanting to intimidate you, voice soft and gentle. "Are you...", he begins before he stops himself. Was he really just about to ask you if you were ok? It's so goddamn fucking obvious that you are not, so he settles for something else. "What happened, Nike?" You were still sitting there, legs pulled close to your body, head resting on your knees as you cried. He moved another step closer when you suddenly looked up at him as if only now you realised that someone was there. "Rooster?"

Your chest was heaving, your fingers nervously drumming on your kneecaps while you tried to focus on him, clearly struggling with the situation "Yeah. It's me. Shall I call someone?", he asked and as soon as he mentioned the call you began frantically shaking your head, reaching a trembling hand out to him to grab the wrist of the hand that was about to reach into his pocket. "No, please don't" He pulls his hand back out of his pocket and lifts it up in the air to signal surrender. "Ok, I'm not"

Bradley only knows you as IC. The woman for the impossible jobs and who you call when shit hit the fan and you need someone to fix it. A woman tough as nails and level-headed who always has a backup plan for the backup plan to make sure you got your people home safe and you were fucking brilliant at it. They named you after the goddess of victory for a reason. Whenever he was on a mission you were responsible for he felt a lot calmer and he knew he wasn't the only one. People trusted your competence and your judgement. They trusted you.

Hell, you were probably the only person on planet Earth to tell Admiral Simpson no if you thought something was a shitty idea and lived to tell the tale.

"Then say what you need Nike. Please?", he pleads feeling completely helpless. He has never seen you so utterly terrified and there is a feeling rising in his chest that makes him want to knock on the door of whoever left you so scared and very impolitely beat the shit out of them. You loosen the grip on his wrist and let your hand glide down his arm until yours is in his and he gives you a reassuring squeeze. Even with his fingers wrapped around yours, he can feel the trembling. When you finally answer him your voice is barely above a whisper. "A place to stay"

He didn't need to hear anything else. He just nodded and pulled you up by the hand that was still clinging to his own. Your feet were wobbly and the heels didn't make it any better. His eyes wandered over you, assessing whether there was any injury that he had to be mindful of before he let go of your hand for a second, the terror lighting back up in your eyes immediately. "It's ok, Nike. I am here", his voice is low and raspy as he places one hand on your back and bends down, placing the other under your knees to pick you up bridal style. He felt the way your body seemed to relax in his hold, face buried in his neck as he rested his head on yours before he murmured into your hair. "Let's get you home"

At a red light on the drive to his place he looks down where your hand is still holding his, his thumb gently petting the back of your hand while your head rested on his shoulder. In all the years of knowing you, he's never seen you so close to someone else. You usually prefer to keep people out of your personal space. It was something everyone on base respected and that makes him wonder.

You were so strong, so resourceful and intelligent. You had seen so much shit in your life and 9 times out of ten they called you in when it already hit the fan, so you were no stranger to working under immense pressure, the lives of people depending on the shots you were calling. How could someone bring you into a position where you would be so utterly terrified that it'd push you into a state that looked like a full-blown anxiety attack?

Considering the pretty dress, the heels and your by now smudged make-up it was likely you'd been out today and since bars and clubs are not your scene, he figures it must have been a restaurant. The thought that someone treated you so badly was infuriating him. You had dedicated your life to protecting people, making sure that they get back home to their families and loved ones unharmed. To treat someone like you bad enough to send you spiralling called for a grade-A asshole and a part of him hoped you'd tell him the name later. He would gladly pay that asshat a visit and he would bet, the rest of the dagger squad would happily tag along.

It's not much later when he puts the Bronco in park in front of his house, feeling the way you instantly stiffen next to him. "I'll go ahead and open the door", your grip around his hand tightens even more. You are holding on to him for dear life. Bradley Bradshaw was your lifeline right now and to be someone you trusted so much filled his heart with pride. He only wished he would have found out under different circumstances.

"I'll be right back, Nike", he hears you stifle a sob while you tremble. Whether it's the chill night air or your fear, he is not quite sure and so he leans to the side to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You tell me when you are ready", he adds, pulling you into an embrace as the two of you sit here in his car. He'd stay here with you for hours if you needed it. "Promise you'll come back" "I promise", he looks down at you and you nod. Letting go of his hand so he can get out of the car. Brad cannot remember any other time when he ran up the steps to his house this fast, unlocking the door and grabbing the quilt from his couch before he gets right back to you.

Seeing the way your eyes light up when you see him as he opens the car door makes his heart soar and ache at the same time. "Told you, I'd come for you Nike", he steps closer and gently places the blanket around your shoulders and when he picks you up again he feels how you instantly melt into his embrace. "I'll always come for you"

He tried to kick his front door closed as quietly as he could to not spook you even more and kept the lights off too as he made his way to his bedroom. From there he goes into the en-suite and sits you down on the counter. "Blanket on or off?" "Off" He nods, taking the colourful patchwork off of your shoulders and throwing it in the corner where he usually stores his dirty laundry. He could deal with that some other time. "I'll turn on my bedside lamp in the other room. Close your eyes and I’ll tell you when to look”, he was looking for any sign that you needed another moment but you nodded.

So he turns around and walks into his bedroom, turning on the lamp and throwing the next best piece of fabric over it to dim the light. It was enough to see something but not too much on your eyes that had probably gotten used to the darkness outside. "You can open your eyes", he says, turning back to look at you, eyes wandering over you for a moment to see if there was any injury that he had missed in the darkness outside the Hard Deck but he couldn't find anything. On his way back to you he rummaged around in his drawer, finding a Phillies jersey that could fit you if the dress wasn't comfortable enough for you to sleep in.

"I'm back", he announces himself and sees how your entire body relaxes, shoulders lowering and fingers no longer playing nervously with your ring. "I'm gonna take your shoes off first" He throws the jersey over his shoulder before he goes down on his knees, unlacing your oxford heels, every move slow and deliberate, before he places them down on the floor under the cabinet, to get them out of the way. He is looking up at you from his crouched position. He wants to seem as non-threatening as possible for what comes next.

"Do you want to keep your dress on or change into a shirt?", he asks, taking the jersey from his shoulder and showing it to you. He sees the way you are contemplating for a long while, brow furrowed and teeth sinking into your lower lip before you reach out for the worn-out material. It's soft and you are digging your fingers into the material and holding onto it the way you'd been holding onto his hand. Holding on for dear life.

"Want me to stay or wait outside?", he asks, not wanting to put you into a worse situation than you are already in. Damn, he wished you would have allowed him to get Phoenix or Penny, then this would have been not as bad by a long shot. You are quiet for a while and he wonders if you've drifted off again the way he found you in front of the Hard Deck, but then your gaze finds his and you take a deep breath. "Can you help with the zipper?" "Of course"

He gets up and watches you jump off the counter, your stance much more stable now that the heels are off. It's more the look he's used of you and it gives him the feeling that he's at least doing something right here. You turn around, his jersey still pressed to your chest, looking down at the washed-out red and white fabric as if it gave you some form of solace. Bradley takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the mirror to make sure you know what would come next and when you give him a nod he reaches out his hand, gently pulling down the zipper. Underneath the fabric is some sort of underdress all laced up with a pretty bow. Fuck. He would have never taken you for the corset-wearing type of gal.

You let the dress slide down to the floor before you pull his jersey over your head. He wants to help you to smooth it down your body but you shake your head and his hands are off immediately. "Sorry" "No...Can you untie...?" This time he's the one nodding, letting his hands glide under the fabric, pulling at the laces to undo the bow and then loosening them enough so you could let it glide down your body too and step out. The pile of fabric, tulle and boning is on the floor and he sees that you attempt to lean down, your hand on the counter for balance in order to pick your clothes up but he's faster. "Thank you" “I can put this on a hanger for you”, he nods over to where he usually stores his drying shirts. “There are loops...”, you start and he easily finds them, placing them on the hanger's hooks before he puts them on the clothes rail. As his eyes wander over the dress, he's wondering for a moment who you had met to doll up like this. "Anything else?"

He sees the way you are thinking, fighting with yourself "Whatever it is, if I can do it, I will" "Can you help with the stockings?" You don't meet his eye, probably embarrassed to make yourself vulnerable in front of a coworker like this but right now Rooster doubts that there is anything in this world he wouldn't do for you.

So for the second time tonight, Bradley Bradshaw lets himself fall onto his knees, feeling your hand on his shoulder for support while both hands are smoothing up your calf to your knee and under the jersey, feeling where the nylon ended so he could pull it down for you. His eyes are glued to the ground to make this at least a little less awkward for you. Once the fabric is gone, he switches to the other side and repeats the same movement before he looks up at you, the bunched-up material ending up under the sink next to your shoes.

"You good, Nike?", he asks, eyes searching your face for any sign that he's overstepped but all he finds is that gentle expression of fondness on your face, not quite a smile but considering the circumstances, Bradley would settle for this. You give him a small nod, hand moving from his shoulder closer to the crook of his neck, fingers lingering on his scars and Brad couldn't help but close his eyes at the gentle touch, willing his body to stay perfectly still to not destroy this moment of peace. Not for you and not for him. "Thank you Rooster", he's had your voice in his ear so often, assertive and commanding, but now your voice was gentle, as much a caress for him as your fingers. "For you, always", he looks up at you and for a moment he feels like the world stops turning and he wonders if given another chance at a different time, you would return to his home and allow him to prove to you that there were men out there who could treat you right.

When you finally pull back your hand he slowly moves up to stand before you, towering over you but you don't flinch. Bradley Bradshaw doesn't make you feel you need to and he cannot help but feel a pride rising in his chest that of all people, you chose him to put your trust in. "Now let's get you into bed", he steps to the side, letting you walk past him with his hand hovering over the small of your back. His hand wants to touch, but he doesn't want to push. Not after the night you had. That is until he realises that you are walking towards the door.

"Where do you think you are going?" "Couch" Fuck no. He would not make you sleep on that thing that was short and so worn out that it'd surely break your back. But what was even worse than the idea of you on his couch was the fact you believed that he would allow, let alone want that. Getting his hands back on you he picks you up bridal style and carries you back over to the bed. "You take the bed" "Rooster..." "No" There is a small smile playing on his lips. It reminds him of the first time he met you way back when.

You had just finished the mission briefing when Hangman suggested a change to the plans and your only reply was: "No" "What no?" "No", you looked Hangman straight in the eyes, pretty brow arched, and everyone in the room could feel the fury start to simmer in Hangman's veins at the way you're dismissing him and his points so easily. "No is a complete sentence, Lieutenant Seresin. Considering your reputation as base casanova I was hoping you'd understand the concept" That was the moment Rooster knew that he liked you.

Rooster was a navy guy and could sleep wherever, even on the hardwood floor if he had to, but you needed some proper rest. He lays you down on the bed as gently as possible and when he straightens his back he sees the expression on your face. It's such a wild swirl of emotions that are washing over your features, ever-changing like the ocean, that he doesn't know what to expect next, but it sure as hell wasn't this. "I'm scared of being alone"

He knows that this is far more than a simple statement. It is your way to ask for him to stay, to have him around for your comfort. It's not like he doesn't want to, but there is a part of him that wonders if this would be something you'd come to regret the next morning. He had always known you as someone who loved her personal space, avoiding even handshakes whenever you could. He had his hands all over you tonight and he didn't want to push his luck, but then he saw your pleading eyes and he smiled down at you. "I'll just get into some comfortable clothes and then I'm right back", he leans down and presses a soothing kiss to your forehead. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this soft around someone and yes, the circumstances were shitty at best, but there was a part of his heart that revelled in the gentleness of these moments. "Thank you, Bradley"

He has to stop himself for a moment, eyes wide with surprise as he looks at you. Never before have you used his first name. It was always Lieutenant, Bradshaw, Rooster or a combination of those three, usually depending on how pissed you were at him for fucking around with your meticulous mission plans. There was a flicker of fear that washed over your face as the realisation hit you what you just said but he reached out his hand, gently resting on your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. "No need to thank me, Nike. I am glad if I can help"

He allows himself another moment to enjoy the feeling of your soft skin against his before he pulls back and turns to grab some fresh clothes to sleep in and heads to the bathroom. His movements are hurried, almost frantic while he gets out of his clothes and ready for bed. All the while feeling a fear creeping up on him. He closed the door, to make sure to respect your boundaries but now he regretted it. It meant he couldn't check in on you, couldn't make sure that you were ok and not spiralling. Throwing his worn clothes over to the hamper without caring if he actually hit or not he just pulls on his sweat pants and opens the door, muscle shirt still in hand as he walks into the bedroom and pulls it over his head.

When he reached the bed where you had curled up already, he crouched down to be on eye level with you. “Tell me what you need from me", his voice is soft and quiet as he talks, pushing a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. He sees how you try to sink even deeper into the pillow as if you wanted to hide from him and that makes his heart ache. "Remember Nike. Whatever you need as long as I can make it happen, you'll get it" "Can you...", your voice is barely above a whisper and when he tries to meet your gaze you turn around and scoot over on the bed to make room for him. "I just really don't want to be alone"

You feel the way the mattress is dipping under his weight but you cannot bring yourself to turn around and look him in the eye. "You are not alone Nike", his voice is close to your ear and you can feel the way his breath is fanning out over your cheek and neck. And then you surprise him when you reach behind him and take his hand to place it over your waist, your fingers interlaced with his as your thumb drummed a nervous rhythm into the palm of his hand. "You are never alone"

Part 2

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always

If you want to read more you can find my masterlist HERE

[boxwinebaddie]

this selena cover is the cd song ever of all time jysk :*

[misspickman]

transfem kon proposal could have been good if was good

[blujayonthewing]

so in juniper's campaign we've just found ourselves in a high-stakes situation that I as a player do frankly find stressful and am anxious about, but hey hi also the DM was like 'okay here are the exact mechanics of how this is going to work because I don't want to surprise you with serious repercussions, also here are all the options you will have to try to do something about the situation-- [affected player] what do you think? honest feedback, I don't want it to feel unfair, I want to be clear that I am not just trying to kill your character, and if it ends up being badly balanced we can revisit it down the road' and oh my god I could COLLAPSE and WEEP with gratitude

[wriokitty]

“Did you know—”

“I don’t care,” Sukuna interrupts, wholly disinterested. It’s half past three—(which is, of course, his fault, but that doesn’t mean he’s any less tired).

But you, wholly uncaring, promptly ignore him. “—That some female spiders eat the male ones after mating?”

“What do you want me to do with this information?” He looks at you irritably, glaring at you from the corner of his eyes. You flash him a grin—it’s a mischievous little thing, your lips curled in a cheeky, flirty way that warns him silently that he’s about to risk popping another vein. He seems to do that around you quite often, and it certainly feels like it’s underway once more.

(And, as it always is, his intuition would be right).

“It’s a warning,” you hum.

He snorts, raising a clearly disbelieving brow as he hums, “oh yeah? For what? Are you gonna—wha-hey!”

Not a lot catches Sukuna off guard. You giggle as he barks out a surprised yelp of your name, harshly shoving you away from his chest. There’s a nice, fresh, very crystal and very clear outline of your teeth marked right on the flesh surrounding his nipple.

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He asks incredulously.

You let out a soft, amused little giggle that sounds through the room before he feels your weight shift and fall onto him, making him grunt as his arms steady you and his eyes stare up at your hovering face with an agitated purse of his lips.

“I’m eating you,” you say cheekily, “see?” For emphasis, you leave an equally as shocking bite to his bicep, your head leaning down to get a mouthful of his bare arm. He lets out a low, startled grunt before one large and very firm hand grabs the back of your neck and yanks you off.

“Have you completely lost it?” He hisses.

“We just mated—”

“Who on Earth talks about sex like that? We are not animals who—”

“—And now I’m going to eat you after mating. Like a female spider.”

“If you’re going to be weird, just go the fuck to sleep,” he grumbles lowly.

Sukuna is tired.

(And yes, the reason is partly because he’s a bit inexhaustible once he’s felt the velvet heat of your walls, and yes, it’s technically his own greediness that’s worn him out so physically for the night. But that’s all been the cost for something of greater benefit to him. Something he doesn’t exactly mind draining his energy for.

Bur your odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird schemes are not a part of the list of things he’s willing to sacrifice his energy for. There isn’t much pleasure in entertaining your nonsense most of the time.

If anything, there’s pain—the stinging bite marks on his skin can attest to that.)

“I’m not tired,” you hum.

“Then let me make you tired,” he offers smugly, lips tugging into a cocky grin as he looks up at you.

“If you didn’t manage that the first time, what makes you think that’ll work the second?” You tease.

He doesn’t seem to like that very much, because with a growl, he pushes the back of your neck until your face falls into the crook of his neck, a strong, bulky arm wrapping around your waist and keeping you in place against his body.

It’d be awfully intimate, and awfully sweet if he didn’t mumble, “I love when you sleep because it’s the only few hours of the day I get to hear you shut the fuck up.”

“Maybe if you’d just appreciated my fun fact—”

“You bit my fucking nipple.”

“I could bite the other one, too, if you want,” you pipe up with an excited grin. He can feel it pressed against his skin as your face buries deeper into the space between his neck and shoulder.

Sukuna is tired. Most of the time, it’s because of you. All of the time, he chooses to allow it because he likes having you around for a good fuck.

(And, of course, there’s all that bullshit about love and affection, too. But that’s just that odd stuff you like to babble about—that odd, unsettling, abnormal and very plainly weird emotional part of you that somehow ropes him into being the same way every once in a while.

He doesn’t like it.)

“You need a lobotomy,” he mutters, wincing when you bite the skin of his neck in response. Not in a manner he likes, either—very much in a manner that makes sure he feels the sharpness of your incisors.

“Don’t be rude,” you scold, “I’m biologically meant to be your predator.”

“You biologically give me fuckin’ migraines.”

You grin—it’s a smile that’s easy. Smooth. Maybe a little giddy, too. It comes out only around Sukuna. Him and his gruff, rugged way of accepting your affection, and his double as rough and crude way of giving it back. His callused hands and toughened knuckles that brush along your cheeks carefully. His crass and undignified words that are carefully thought out enough to never cross the line. His downturned lips and narrowed eyes that only ever soften at the sharp corners around you.

“Next time, I’ll eat you for sure,” you murmur, settling against his chest and getting comfortable. He wraps both arms around you, warm and tight enough that you almost think you can forgo the blanket altogether. “Assert my dominance.”

“You can’t even open the pickle jar.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s only a matter of time until natural selection gets you,” he snickers quietly. You huff, biting back a smile as he yawns.

Gently, with a kiss over the bite mark you left against his neck, you say softly, “goodnight. Love you.”

“Night.”

“I love you.”

“For the love of—love you too, holy fuck. Go to sleep.”

[skrunksthatwunk]

playing dmc1 with my earbuds in (but on low volume bc they're being weird) while my roommate and her shitty bf argue. i feel like i'm recreating the very specific experience of some child of divorce out there

[rqnarok]

summary: old man!logan finds himself having a breeding kink.

cws/tags: smut, mdni! old man!logan. fem!reader. heavy breeding kink. dom/sub dynamics. unprotected p in v. pet names. not proofread. 

Logan’s younger self would not approve of this idea. 

Hell, it would not even cross his youthful, unbound, and liberated version. Younger Logan would have brushed off the idea - dodging it like a bullet - revolting against it. 

Having a kid? A noisy five-year-old child running around the house, screaming and kicking everything in sight? Yeah, fuck no. 

He’d even hate just thinking about it. 

But now that years have gone by and he’s almost hitting 200 years of age–a lot has changed in how he sees things, alright. Suddenly he’s not that idealistic-insufferable-annoying fuck anymore.

The heavy feels of his own body, his poor visions, his utter tiredness and wounds are slowly tended by settling down with you. Living in a small countryside home just outside Texas is the life Logan needed all along.

So he just can’t fucking help it when he sees how you act with those children at the Barbeque party. How you treat them with such care as if they’re yours. 

The smile plastered on your face after you give each one of them a cookie is Heaven sent for Logan. He’s too focused on being mesmerized by your acts that he almost does not realize how his trousers feel tighter.

He quickly hides his bulge whilst embarrassed of himself, thinking ‘M fuckin’ old for this shit. But who gives a fuck anyway? 

Oh, he in the past would not approve of this at all. 

“Fuck. You’d look so fuckin’ good with y’r belly swollen with my child.” Logan grunts out, thrusting his girth into you as his mind fills up with visions of you carrying his child. 

The images themselves make Logan go feral—growling when he feels how your velvet walls manage to clench around him.

“A-ah! Please!” The high-pitched noise you let out is almost humiliating as you bounce yourself on top of your husband, making the head hit your gummy spot every time you fall down.

“Hm? Y’want that, Little Missy? Want me t’give you a baby?” His calloused fingers rub shapes on your sticky skin, guiding your hips as he tries to search for the answer in your eyes.

You reply with a frantic nod, your mind feels empty as his tip deliciously kisses your cervix. The thought of being full of his seed, pregnant and giving him a baby—makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

With one movement, Logan manages to manhandle you to a new position, his cock never slips out from your heat, “Want this old man t’give you one? Make you a momma?” 

The sound of his full balls slapping against your ass makes you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Now clearly hearing the obscene moans emitting through the dim room, “Yeahyeahyea—W-wanna be a momma—”

While you wonder how he still has this much stamina at that age, Logan leans down to your ear and buries his face on your neck, “Pretty wife. Gonna make the cutest goddamn babies, y’know tha’?” 

His palms hold your thighs spread open to reach deeper inside you, “Let me fill ya’ up real good.”

Logan’s eyes flicker to watch your pussy swallow his cock in and out. The sight alone makes him throw his head and let guilt wash him over for a minute.

He feels perverted—corrupting you by plugging his cock to the hilt as if it is trying to mold your insides. A dilemma growing.

You could feel how his thrusts steadily became desperate, “L-Lo.” Whining out, your fingers crawl into his back to pull him tighter. 

He can’t fucking wait to have you round up. Shit. You’d be so dependent on him—need him at all times. And he’d fulfill everything you ask him to do. Logan would never even let you move an inch. 

Everything caught up to him as an acute wave, “F-Fuck. There ya’ go, baby.” Logan mutters - his hands shake slightly as they lose their grip on your thighs. 

His cock never pulling out, “D’ya think it takes, pretty?” You could feel him deep inside you—how your walls are painted by his thick ropes of cum. 

Logan gives lazy circles of his hips before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips, whispering several ‘I love you’s’ before lowering himself so his face could level with your pussy.  

“Fuck.” The older man has never seen a far more beautiful sight than this. Watching his cum begin to leak out of you makes his cock twitches again. 

The scruffy feel of his beard scratches your inner thighs as he leans closer—dragging the tips of his fingers along your folds before plugging his digits back inside. 

“Logan-n!” 

A deep rumble comes out of Logan, “Shh. Be a good girl for your husband, yeah? Need’a to make sure it takes.”

[nochepsicodelica]

"All those drinks are gonna do you dirty, ma. You're gonna throw up if you don't get some food in your system, so eat," Toji says, pushing the box closer to you.

You giggle at his serious face, before standing up from your chair for the fourth time, trying to go around him. Toji's used to this by now and stands up, bringing you back down to your chair.

"Stop getting up and eat your food. You literally begged for this. Why aren't you eating it?"

"Why aren't you eating it?" You return, raising your brows at him, seductively. It doesn't come off too sexy when raising your eyebrows makes you immediately squint because of the light going into your sensitive eyes, but it does lure a chuckle out of Toji.

"I'm ignoring that. Just eat. I don't wanna hear you upchucking in a couple hours."

"You won't hold my hair back?" You pout. Your feigned little flash of sadness produces real tears in this state, so it's a little confusing for Toji when you start giggling while wiping at your reddened cheeks.

"Your food's getting cold. I know how you are about reheating fast food, so eat it before it goes to waste."

You smile at him, your eyelids almost completely shut in your drunken daze. Toji can't even lie, it's cute. It's the only reason he's not up the wall about this little situation. Then you decide to drop a bomb on him.

"I'm not hungry anymore. Too tired to eat." You rest your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes. It feels nice. It would take less than thirty seconds for you to fall asleep.

Fuck. Think, think, think...

"Hey." Toji pokes your forehead, lightly, earning a hum and a furrow of your brows. "What if I feed you?"

You laugh, giddily. "Ooo, you trying to romance me?"

"Sure, if you eat."

You laugh again. "Toji, you dog, you. I'm not putting out." You shake your head, eyes closed with a dumb grin on your face. "No, sir. It's food and then goodnight for me."

"You already put out for me, earlier, doll." He smirks at the way you blush, clearly having an 'oh, yeah...' moment. "Eat some more so we can go to sleep."

"Hm?" You hum, rolling your eyes open after your blink of sleep. You crack a grin as soon as you look at Toji. "You wanna kiss me sooo bad. Look at you."

"I'm not gonna kiss you. You're not listening. You think you deserve kisses for that?"

"Uh... yes? I mean no. Pshhh, nooo. Of course, not."

"That's right. So eat, or you'll go to sleep without kisses, tonight."

"Noooo," you whine, dramatically. "Wait! Fine, fine. Look." You take a huge bite of your sandwich, your cheeks puffing up as you chew. "Oh, this is really good," you say, muffled by your mouthful of food.

"Don't choke, doll. Small bites are fine," he says, picking up a napkin and wiping the excess condiments off your face.

You push through it and gulp down the bite. "That was a lot. Got bread stuck on the roof of my mouth." You take a sip of your drink to wash it all down. "Did I look so pretty for the party, today?" You ask, your lips curling as you put the cup back down.

"You did, mama. Stunning. Swept everyone there, off their feet."

You smile, the gesture transitioning into a giggle. "Even Shiu?"

"Yup. Even Shiu said he wanted a piece of you."

You gasp. "No... Did you fight him?"

"Nah, I wanted to, but I kept my cool. If he had put his hands on you, then I might have, but I had my eye on you all night, to make sure nobody did more than look at you."

"I wouldn't have followed him anywhere, anyway." You roll your eyes, suddenly so hostile against the host of the party. "Probably would've kicked him in the nuts and gone to find you."

"Yeah, that's a smart idea, doll."

Toji's elaborate answers to your questions kept you awake long enough for you to mindlessly eat while he talked. You were at the end of the sandwich when you realized how much you had eaten and how full you were.

"Can't... do it..." You groan, lying on the arm you have extended on the table. "Too full." You sigh, heavily, setting the rest of the sandwich down on the scattered fries in its box.

"That's good, ma. You don't have to eat it, anymore. We can go to bed, now."

You let out another heavy sigh, sluggishness washing over you before you force yourself to stand up from your chair, this time with Toji's 'okay'. He looks at your little belly as it protrudes from your dress, proof of how full you actually are, and pokes at it. Your usually soft tummy is temporarily stiff and it's adorable.

You grab Toji's hand so that you don't stumble as you walk. Before leaving the table, he finished the remainder of your sandwich in one bite and threw out the container with the remaining cold fries.

"Damn, you were right, baby. That was good."

"Mhm," you mumble, waiting for him to lead you to the room.

Toji helped you brush your teeth and wash your face, and when you finally made it to the room, he helped you dress down into comfier clothes. Now, you're in bed together and you're in his arms trying to doze off, but you can't with the way he's smothering your face with kisses. It's just kiss after kiss with him and you can't focus, but it is what you wanted. After all, you stuffed your face for this.

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 with a partner who likes to bite

Okay, anon. I'll be honest. When I read this prompt, I immediately thought of "cute aggression." Not sure if that is what you meant or if you meant something else, but that's what I went with. Kinda. There are some more suggestive undertones in a few of these. I had a lot of fun with this one. Thank you so much for sending it in!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, biting, cute aggression, established relationship, teasing, flirting, suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"Are you teething?” asks John. “Do I need to get you a pacifier?"

John sounds annoyed, but you know that he isn’t. Not really. He happily puts up with your shenanigans.

"Can't help it,” you reply, showing your teeth. “You're too tempting."

The two of you are curled up in bed. He’s trying to read. And you’re trying to annoy him. When John is shirtless and reclined in bed, you have a clear view of his muscles. The temptation is always there, and it’s a pull you can’t resist. The aggression isn’t violent. It’s just overwhelming.

Clearly not liking your answer, John grunts. He tosses his book aside, uncaring of losing his place. One moment you’re next to him, and the next you’re fully on your back, trapped beneath his weight.

Giggling, you playfully shove at him, but there is no intention to escape from him. It’s not like you could break out of his grasp if you tried. He is warm and taut. A weighted blanket. This is what you wanted all along. To be beneath him.

"Stop."

He nips at your throat.

"Fucking."

Then he nips at your shoulder.

"Biting."

Finally, John nips at your upper arm.

"Me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"Someone's going to think you're abusing me."

You grimace, even though Kyle’s tone is teasing and not at all upset. His arm and neck are peppered with small teeth marks. Most of them look like random little indents in the skin while others appear to be in the beginnings of bruising.

“I might have used excessive force,” you murmur, thumbing one of the marks.

Sometimes you can’t help yourself. The need to do it is overwhelming. Most times, you shake it off.

Kyle grins. “I like them. They’re little reminders.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? Reminders of what?”

Kyle leans in, hand sliding up your back to grasp the nape of your neck. Pulling you close, Kyle lowers his voice. It’s all sultry smoothness.

"Of how many times I can make you come,” he coos.

“Kyle!” You lightly smack his chest, face heating as his gaze softens.

He shrugs. “You also just like to bite me.”

“Can’t help it,” you mutter.

“You’re like one of those small dogs,” he teases.

You roll your eyes. “Don’t you dare,” you scold.

“Adorable. Sweet at first glance.”

“Kyle.”

“Mean bite.”

“I swear to God, Kyle.”

“A—”

You place your hand over his mouth.

John "Soap" MacTavish

With Johnny as your bed, you spread yourself over him, head resting against his right pectoral. A rugby game is on. Johnny’s completely focused on the television as the two teams move about the field like small insects.

Johnny’s large, muscled arms are draped over your back, but his left bicep is dangerously close to your face. Every vein is pronounced. Tempting. You want to trace them with your tongue.

A naughty little urge creeps in. Makes itself known. Slithers around your brain to whisper that you should.

What’s one little bite?

It won’t hurt.

Like an itch that needs to be scratched, you lean forward, lightly chomping down on Johnny’s arm. The urge settles, the neurons in your brain content and happy.

Startled, Johnny jerks. Then, he laughs, arms tightening around you.

One second, you’re in full cuteness aggression. The next, Johnny is rolling you over, trapping you beneath him against the couch. Instead of you biting him, it’s Johnny biting you.

You shriek playfully, but he continues to nibble.

“Let me go,” you laugh. Smacking at him does nothing.

“You little goblin,” he mutters, dragging you off the couch and hauling you toward the bedroom, rugby match forgotten.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon wears only a thin, black shirt, leaving his arms bare. Your mouth waters at the sight of the protruding veins and taut muscles. The urge to touch and taste is overwhelming. It burns bright and hot beneath your skin.

"What are you looking at?" asks Simon without looking away from the menu board on the far wall.

“Nothing,” you reply instantly, glancing away like you weren’t thinking about his muscles.

A few seconds pass, and then you slip an arm between his, clinging to Simon. He doesn’t react. The menu board has his full attention. Simon is more worried about filling his stomach.

Turning your face into his arm, the urge to bite down—to unleash the aggression—wells inside you like a tsunami. At first, you resist, reminding yourself that you are in public and this behavior is inappropriate.

But you lose.

Your mouth starts to open, teeth poised to lightly bite.

“My arm isn’t a chew toy,” says Simon out of the corner of his mouth.

"I didn't bite," you mutter.

Simon slips his arm out of your grasp and then drapes it over your shoulders.

He leans in close. "You can bite me all over later."

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @cod-z @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@umno-yeah @daemondoll @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez

@ash-tarte @enarien @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[ms-spkhd]

It's not like there's anything inherently wrong with Steve. Just...weird. Odd. A wealth of other various synonyms to describe his decidedly bizarre behavior.

Well, Bizarre's a strong word.

But Eddie's point still stands! Steve's a little to the left and it makes Eddie feel endlessly awkward for noticing. The fact that he's uncomfortable about it compounds his unease over it.

"Wanna talk about it, then?" Jeff asks, riffling idly through the record crate. Of course, the one day off they spend window-shopping in Indianapolis results in Eddie getting the fucking 'let's discuss our feelings about things' talk from Jeff. He wonders how the man isn't green with sickness from therapizing all the goddamn time.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "I'd look like an idiot."

"Would the idiot keep running or confront his problems head-on?"

"This feels like a trap."

"Oh yeah," Jeff says simply.

"Like the ones with the cardboard box and the stick."

"Pre-cisely."

Eddie's shoulders slump in defeat. Better the idiot who speaks, he supposes. "He's very smiley about me being gay."

"Smiley."

"Smiley. As in he's acting like I vomit flowers and shit rainbows." Eddie shakes his head in frustration. "I'm not opposed to the support and everything...it's just that. He's like an octave higher than usual about it."

Jeff purses his lips in thought. "Like, his voice?"

"No--like...like, he's very enthusiastic about my sexuality."

Eddie leans back against the shelf behind him. Steve's a nice guy, really, but the way he goes about his support of Eddie feels like he's trying to compensate for something. A lack of empathy when he was younger, perhaps.

"He always asks if I have a boyfriend, or if I've been hooking up with any guys lately--which, hello, does he not know that queer metalhead nerd isn't a very hot item here?"

Jeff pulls a face but nods in understanding.

"And when I tell him obviously no, he says he can hook me up with his, what? Fucking father's brother's cousin's former roommate? It's like he's begging for a double date with him and his new squeeze, it's goddamn ridiculous." "New squeeze?"

"I'm hyperbolizing." Eddie blows a raspberry and shrugs. "He says it's sad that I don't have someone for how good-looking I am. You're making the face again."'

Jeff snaps out of whatever trance he's in, his drawn eyebrows shooting up to his hairline in surprise. After his gawking mouth clacks shut, he cautiously gestures at Eddie to continue.

"It's stupid," Eddie concedes, "but I really don't understand what changed, y'know? He used to be this cool, confident guy with a dorky side, but now he's just so...I don't know."

Jeff smiles lightly and knocks Eddie's shoulder with his. "I have a theory."

"Go on."

"I think Steve isn't being supportive."

"Uh-huh."

"Far from it, actually."

"Yeah. Whatever you say, chief."

"He isn't smothering you," Jeff points out. "He wants to fuck you."

Eddie blinks. Takes a moment to access and really take in what Jeff just said. "What?"

"Or at least, he wants you in an entirely non-friendly and possibly even carnal way."

"Excuse me?"

"Biblically."

"Dude," Eddie insists. "What. The. Fuck."

Jeff raises his hands placatingly. "Steve clearly likes you. A lot. He probably sees you being gay as an in for him."

"Okay, well, I don't understand. He tries to set me up with randos he knows all the time."

"He called you good-looking."

"While he was trying to set me up with said rando!"

"Guys like him have a really backward way of doing things." Eddie crosses his arms sternly. "Or he's straight," he says.

"Again," Jeff asserts. "Good. Looking. Dude, he's fucking obsessed with you! You said he's an octave higher around you now, right?"

"Because he's a well-meaning friend?"

"Eddie, remember when he crashed band practice last week?"

Oh yeah, Eddie remembers that. The man of the hour randomly parked in Gareth's driveway, leaned against his Beemer with his arms crossed, and watched Eddie play like he fucking hung the moon. Afterward, he'd sung his praises for the band and gave Eddie a yellow guitar pick attached to a sparkling silver chain. "Found the pick a couple of towns south with Robin the other day. Reminded me of you," he said softly. "Since you lost your last one."

It went unspoken where Eddie lost 'the last one'.

Eddie remembers smiling back at Steve with the force of a thousand supernovas, and thinking later in the night that it felt like a scene from a romance movie. Steve's favorite color is yellow, isn't it? It was like he wanted a piece of himself with Eddie at all times, right next to his heart.

Eddie didn't want to give himself that stupid hope. That Steve Harrington wanted in on his heart.

It doesn't feel so stupid anymore.

He looks back at Jeff and says, "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Part two

[coffee-and-geto]

waxing time with your boyfriend. ryomen sukuna (sfw)

cw: fluff, crack, sukuna is too confident.

After yet another groan of pain, you rip off the strip of hard wax from your inner thigh. “Fuck…” you curse.

The wax has gripped all your hairs well, and you raise an amused eyebrow, holding the strip up to the light to observe the satisfying bulb pulled out from the root. Waxing has always been a monthly routine for you, a way to maintain your body to feel good with smooth, soft skin — and not to please your boyfriend who clearly doesn't care about your body hair.

And you thank him for that.

Sukuna is not the kind of boyfriend who complains or cares about your appearance. While many partners refuse to have sex with their girlfriends over body hair, knowing that Sukuna is not one of them soothes your nerves when his angry/irritated side shows. You even accept closing your eyes when he yells from the other end of the apartment that he's hungry and wants his “woman” to make him some food.

With a smirk, you stir a wooden stick to mix and then take some more wax from your wax warmer. The next strip is inevitably painful, located along the bikini line. The particularly sensitive and thin skin around this area never fails to elicit a squeal of pain when you rip the hairs from this spot.

And that’s exactly what happens.

Your sharp cry of pain catches the attention of your boyfriend, who stomps into the room, growling. He leans against the doorway and crosses his tattooed arms over his chest. “What is it now, woman?”

“I rustle up a magic potion,” you reply tartly.

Without leaving the room once, you finish waxing your bikini line, one hand armed with a cold compress pressed against the irritated, slightly reddened areas.

Sukuna steps over the distance between you and lowers his nose towards your wax warmer to sniffle it. “This is really a stupid thing humans have invented.” He rolls his eyes.

“Well, this ‘thing’ hurts a lot,” you clarify, hopping in place because the irritation annoys you, and the best way you’ve found to cope is to hop around to distract yourself.

“Pfff. You’re just an overdramatic crybaby. It can’t hurt that much.”

Your eye twitches and a vein bulges on your temple. “Oh yeah?”

A few minutes later...

“THIS IS SORCERY! GET IT OFF ME!” Sukuna yells, one foot propped on the edge of the bed with a long pink wax strip along his hairy calf.

On your side, you’ve been laughing uncontrollably for a good five minutes, tears in your eyes and your stomach almost painfully contracted from laughing.

“STOP LAUGHING, WOMAN! I’LL KILL YOU!”

And as you’re about to pull the wax strip, you grip the lip with your fingertips to yank it off sharply.

Sukuna lets out a scream as high-pitched as a little girl’s or a bat’s while your even louder laughter echoes in the room.

[badbtssmut]

Magic Stick

Jungkook is kinda sad because he has never been with a girl who could take him balls deep because of his size, reader doesn't believe him and she wants to see, but he tells her that he can't atm bc he's not hard. She is wearing this kinda halter top style with no bra so she looses the top and shows her tits to him and let's him touch them. After he's hard he shows her his dick and she says she's willing to try to take it all and she rides him into the sunset

Admin note: idea by anon

Contains: Big dick JK, handjob, some boobplay, missionary, riding, reader expresses that she is uncertain if it will fit, it takes some time getting it fully in ;), reader whimpers a bit, JK’s ex cheated on him, jk cums a lot

—

“What’s wrong with you?” You glanced over to your best friend, he has been in a horrible mood for a week and no one knew why. Not even your mutual friends knew what was up with Jungkook.

”It’s nothing.” He mumbled in response.

“Come on, I can tell something is bothering you.” You pushed.

"Fine. My girlfriend broke up with me.” He finally cracked.

"Wait, what?” You stood from the dining table, and inched closer to Jungkook who was sitting on the sofa. “Why’d she do that?" You question, shocked by the sudden news. "You two seemed so happy. What happened?"

"She… she was cheating on me.” He confessed.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What a bitch." You really couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Don’t blame her, I guess.” Jungkook said and shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't be silly. You’re too forgiving." You sighed.

"It's not that. The sex, my size— it just never worked out in bed. It was never a good fit." Jungkook confessed, a tinge of sadness in his voice.

"So, you're saying, she dumped you ‘cause of your dick size? The fuck? That's just shallow. Why would she do that?" You sat next to him.

"Yeah, it didn’t fit, literally. I’d hurt her, it wasn’t going to work out from the start. We tried a few times, but the whole experience was just awful. I guess she couldn't stand it anymore." He said, defeated.

“That doesn't make any sense, surely you aren’t that big? Are you sure she’s not just making excuses?” You couldn’t believe his ex would end things with him over his size.

"No, I am that big." Jungkook replied.

"Really?" You were skeptical.

"I've always had a big dick." He added.

"Show me."

"What?"

"Show me." You repeated. “I just want to know if you’re bullshitting or not.”

"No." He declined, looking at you as if you said the most ridiculous thing ever, clearly embarrassed by your request.

"Oh, come oooon, we are best friends. It’s not like I’ve never seen a dick before in my life." You rolled your eyes. "I'm not going to judge you, I promise. Just let me see."

"Fine." Jungkook sighed. "But… I’m not hard now.” He muttered.

“Will my boobs make you hard?“

“Hell yeah. You got great tits." He said, a bit too enthusiastic, as if he had been dreaming of the day you’d offer your tits in return to see his cock. You stood right in front of him, loosening the straps of your halter top. His mouth was slightly open, as he looked at you, completely mesmerized. You removed the straps from your shoulders and let the shirt fall to your tummy, revealing your breasts.

"Like what you see?" You teased.

"Yeah. Very much." He was nearly drooling at the sight.

"Want to touch them?"

"Fuck, yeah." He nodded, eager. You stepped closer and his hands were instantly on you. Squeezing your breasts, rubbing his thumbs on your nipples, taking it all in. When he was done caressing your tits with his hands, he started to suck and lick on them, at which you moaned softly, and the sound of it made him rock hard. He was definitely huge, you could see the tent forming on his pants.

"Are you sure you want to see it? It's… quite big." He was almost apologetic, as if his huge dick was some sort of inconvenience for others.

“I do, show me already.” You chuckled, not sure what he was being shy for.

"Okay." He nodded, unbuckling his belt, and lowering his jeans, together with his boxers.

Holy shit.

How was a dick that big even possible? You didn't even think that dicks like that actually existed. And it wasn't just long, but also thick. No wonder his ex broke up with him. You were pretty sure that dick wouldn't fit anywhere.

"Wow." You couldn't believe your eyes.

"Told you. It's big. You wouldn’t believe me." He shrugged.

"Can I touch it?" You asked, still unable to avert your eyes.

"If you want." He agreed, a little surprised but not put off by the idea.

You grabbed his dick and slowly moved your hand up and down his length, marveling at how big and heavy it was, how thick. His cock was truly impressive, and it seemed to get even bigger as you stroked him. You wondered what it would be like to take him.

“Wow. This is amazing. How can you fit this inside a girl?" You were truly impressed, and couldn't help but keep stroking his cock.

"I can't." He admitted, his breathing starting to quicken. “No girl can take it, they always start out confident but when it’s actually in… they can't take it. Not even halfway through. I have never met a girl that can take me all the way, even the ones that brag about having experience are not able to." He sounded dejected.

"I bet I can." You challenged him.

"No. You can't. There's no way." He scoffed. All of the girls said the exact same thing, and it never worked out, ever.

“Want to bet? If I can’t take it, I’ll give you 200 bucks.” You said, not convinced by his pessimism.

"200 dollars? That's a lot of money." He said, surprised by your proposal, but he shrugged. “But alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

—

"Are you sure about this?" He asked, for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

“If you ask me one more time… I will leave." You said, annoyed.

"Sorry. Just don’t want to hurt you." He apologized with a defeated sigh. It made you feel bad for getting annoyed, but Jungkook really had nothing to worry about.

You got this.

Jungkook held onto his cock as he pushed the head of it against your slick pussy lips. Your body tensed a bit, but he took his time, working on you slowly. You breathed deeply and relaxed, spreading your legs further as his shaft dragged against your sensitive skin. His cock was so hard and thick that it rubbed against every single inch of your folds.

Jungkook continued to move his hips back and forth, his errection dragging against your clit with each thrust. The sensation was amazing, and your body was trembling in pleasure, and he wasn’t even in yet.

The tip poked against your lower belly as he continued to rub the shaft against your pussy, his hips moving slow and steady.

“Want it.” You whined.

“Yeah?” He whispered.

"Yeah."

He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing the head against it. You tilted your head back, fuck, that was only the head, how could you feel this full already?

Jungkook began to slide his cock into your wet, aching pussy. His cock was stretching you out so wide, it felt incredible. He stopped when the head was all the way in, giving you a moment to adjust. Jungkook slowly pushed his cock deeper inside you, inch by inch. You could feel his cock filling up every inch of you, the stretch and pressure so intense, it was almost too much.

"Shit, you’re stretching me so good…” You moaned, as his cock kept going deeper.

"How are you taking it so well? I can't believe you can take it this far, pussy takes big cock so good, baby." He pushed in more, eager to fill you with every inch.

You couldn't speak, the sensations were overwhelming. It felt like your pussy was being stretched to its limits, and there was a pressure deep inside you that made your mind go blank.

Jungkook's cock was buried all the way inside you now. You were filled up completely, and it was the most amazing feeling you'd ever experienced.

"Don’t move,” It felt as if he would rip you in two if he pulled out even a little bit. "Not yet. Give me a minute." You whimpered, as you adjusted to his length and girth.

Jungkook nodded, kissing your neck, his hands cupping your breasts.

“This is how pussy feels, huh? Fuck, this is amazing. So tight, warm, perfect." He whispered against your ear, as he kept his dick deep inside. “It’s like my cock is being choked and squeezed, so good.”

“Told you… I could take it.” You said in a shaky breath, sitting up only to peek at where your bodies were joined, impressed to see how your body managed to take that monster cock in.

“You can move now." You gave him permission.

Jungkook started to move his hips back and forth.

The pressure from his dick was too intense, it felt like you were being split open, and you thought you were going to pass out from how good it felt. You held in your breath, unable to moan as you tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of his cock stretching you wide.

Whereas you were silent, Jungkook was grunting, groaning, panting, moaning, he couldn’t contain his pleasure. Jungkook was overwhelmed by the feeling of being buried deep inside you. His thrusts were slow and deep, his cock pushing against your inner walls, massaging them.

You opened your eyes and glanced at his face, he looked like he was in ecstasy, his mouth was open and he was moaning with every thrust.

His cock felt incredible, so big, so deep.

You had never felt anything like it before.

"I can't believe I'm fucking a pussy that can take my whole cock. Shit, it feels amazing. Pussy is so tight and wet. So fucking good. Never felt anything like it. Fuck!” Jungkook licked his bottom lip, picking up the pace.

Jungkook was pounding you now, his cock thrusting in and out of your dripping pussy, hitting all the right spots. Fuck, you were seeing stars, your whole body was on fire.

You couldn't stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. You spread your legs as far as you possible could, allowing him to thrust even deeper into you. Jungkook continued his relentless rhythm, his thrusts were hard and fast, the sounds of his cock slamming into your pussy filled the room.

The feeling of his dick filling you up was indescribable, it was pure bliss.

“Want to ride you, want to sit on that cock." You needed to feel in control, and you wanted him to watch you as you sat on his massive dick.

Jungkook pulled out and laid down on the bed, his dick standing straight up, and you couldn’t wait to take it all again.

You straddled his hips, hovering above his erection and you slowly lowered yourself down onto his cock, gasping as it slid into you, the pressure and friction sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Jungkook's hands were on your ass, helping you move up and down on his cock. He was thrusting his hips upward, matching your rhythm, driving his dick even deeper into you.

"God, you look so hot riding my cock. Never would’ve thought to see this.” He bit his lip, his eyes roaming over your body.

"So big…” All you could think of was how his cock felt inside of you, how shallow it might sound… you couldn’t even think of the person attached to it.

Jungkook was now holding onto your hips, pulling you down harder onto his dick. His thrusts were strong, and fast, and it felt so fucking good.

"Fuck, I can't last any longer. Gonna cum soon." His thrusts became erratic and he was moaning loudly, his whole body shaking. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him, trying to match his rhythm.

"Y/N… like that, love it just like that." He moaned, his breathing unsteady, his fingers now gripping into your thighs.

“Yes, yes…” You whispered, riding his cock, feeling your own orgasm build up inside of you.

“Ah!” Jungkook beat you to it, his body stiffened as his cum spurted inside of you, filling you up. He was gasping for air, his face was flushed, and his grip on your hips loosened, he ran his fingers through his hair as he squirted his cum deep inside of you. It was as if he had a never ending supply of cum, shooting spurt after spurt, his cock throbbing as it emptied its load inside you.

“Keep going, y/n, you didn’t come yet, I’ll stay hard, take what you need, keep going." He encouraged, his breathing still shaky, his dick was still hard, and it was pulsating inside you.

"Yeah." You whispered, continuing to bounce on his dick, the feeling of his cum inside of you and the sight of him beneath you, sweaty, breathing hard, his hair sticking to his forehead, was so incredibly sexy. The sound of your drenched in cum pussy sucking him back in was loud, his cock coated in your juices and the cum that was spilling out of you was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You leaned back, resting your hands on his thighs as you moved up and down, faster, deeper, until you were finally climaxing, your orgasm taking over your body. Your body shook and your eyes fluttered open and shut as the warmth spread through your whole body, you had never felt anything like it before. You could feel the hot cum leaking out of you, and it just kept coming.

Your hips slowed as you rode out your orgasm, and when it was over, you collapsed onto the bed, panting.

“Jungkook?”

“Yeah?”

“You owe me 200 bucks.”

[philosians]

ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴄᴇ

a three week paid-vacation provided by your captain gave rise to the opportunity to finally show you the gift sylus had gotten you. and no, it isn’t the yacht you’re on—but he wouldn’t be opposed to giving you that either.

[ !! ] — mdni | established relationship, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, mating press, unprotected sex, sylus is soft in the bedroom okay now hush ;; alcohol mention (sylus drinks whiskey), fluff. oh did I mention soft! sylus?? uhhh maybe more tags than this idk there’s a lot going on lmao. unedited af I know that’s a warning. if y’all see cut sentences just know it’s a brain glitch >.< lol

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! phew i got this out before it ended hehe just in the nick of time. I do wanna forewarn everyone I don’t actively write smut so I deeply apologize for any sort of repetitiveness or just it being inaccurate and rushed overall, my apologies. but please enjoy reading! bc i wanna curl up and die and delete this after writing it actually lmao I’ll probably never write anything like this again haha

word count: roughly 4.8k

The starry expanse of sky moves quickly outside of the window of the car, nothing but a blur of cosmic colors. Where you’re going you’re not quite sure, with all the secrecy from Sylus and the twins. It’s something Sylus has clearly planned for awhile, from the way he wanted you to dress tonight, but you’re still unable to put your finger on it.

At the very least, you’re glad that Kieran is the one that’s driving instead of Luke.

“Are you two going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“Afraid not, Miss,” Kieran replies. “That’d be against orders from Boss.”

“Are we at least almost there yet?” you ask.

“We have about ten more minutes,” Luke chirps. “Then you’ll finally get to see Boss, don’t worry.”

You’re stunned into a mild fluster and look at your hands in your lap. You heard the twins snicker and you can’t help but shake your head incredulously. Oh well. You’re almost to your destination anyway.

After the last two months of an increase in Wanderer appearances, you could most certainly use a break. It’s been nothing short of hectic, battles here and evacuations there and the occasional dumbass that doesn’t want to listen to the warnings given out that an area is too dangerous to go into.

You softly sigh. You really shouldn’t be thinking about work.

You tug the large coat on your shoulders over you further, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth and the smell of the man it belonged to.

Whatever in the world Sylus had planned must be big, even so that he couldn’t be bothered to tell even the twins exactly what he had in store. All the three of you knew was that he had a surprise, and the two brothers were more than happy to have the opportunity to have the base to themselves.

You just wish you knew where you were going.

“Is this it?”

“I think so. Ah, there’s Boss.”

Oh, already?

True to word, you open your eyes and see a familiar patch of silver against the darkness of the world. And you also happen to see a very, very large yacht not far from him.

A marina? You blink incredulously. A private fucking marina. Good lord, how much money does this man really have?

Upon stopping, you watch as Sylus turns his head slightly to the car. Luke quickly jumps from the passenger side and opens the door for you, ushering his hand outward dramatically and says, “After you, Miss.”

The heel of your shoe clicks against pavement as you step out, holding Luke’s hand for stability until you find your balance.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Not a problem! Enjoy the honey— Uh, vacation!”

Luke jumps back into the car, more than likely to save himself from your questioning eyes. You can’t help but shake your head and make your way toward Sylus and the man in uniform, more than likely the captain of the yacht.

“Ah, Mrs. Sylus,” greets the captain with a tilt of his hat. His eyes blink as he does a once-over on you and then laughs. “I was wondering what kind of woman would tie such a man down, and now I understand. Please, come aboard.”

Your brows raise at Sylus as the captain pivots and boards the yacht. “Care to explain that?”

Sylus, in all his audacity, simply shrugs and smiles. “Nothing to explain, sweetie. He came up with that himself after I told him my lady would be joining me.”

You scoff in disbelief, but can’t help the small smile that falls to your lips. You take Sylus’s arm, wrapped your hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads you onto the ship.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, gazing around as he takes you to the deck. And you could only imagine what it would be like when you went out to sea.

“I figured you would like it,” he murmurs. “Glad to see my instincts weren’t wrong.”

You don’t miss the way his red eyes look to you, knowing he’s waiting for your words of affirmation. You laugh behind your hand, because yeah, he’s right.

You hum, taking his hand in your own. “Thank you for considering me.”

You also don’t miss the way his large fingers eagerly twine with your own, nor the way his eyes soften and blend with devotion and affection.

“Always.”

Thirty minutes pass before the ship takes off into the open sea. You barely feel it until Sylus has you stand to take you back outside from the dining area.

“So, where are we going?” you ask, gazing up at him.

Sylus’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”

You grumble, humoring the man. “Of course it is.”

Sylus’s coat never leaves your shoulders the couple hours you’re both out on the deck. He seems to enjoy that, too; you wearing his clothes sparks something behind his eyes that you’re all too familiar with. The thought itself has your cheeks warming and thighs pressing together.

He flicks his wrist to check his watch when a timer beeps twice. You can’t help it when your eyes linger on his hand. You’ve always had a fixation on his them—on how big and warm they are in comparison to yours, on how his long fingers stretch across your body, and how they gently wrap around you and pull you close like he’d die without touching you. Those hands that had once forced you to attempt to resonate with him for three days had become soft, remorseful and loving. And he’d more than earned your forgiveness.

“Dinner should be ready.”

You grin. “You brought your chef?”

“Just for this trip,” he retorts, standing to full height. “Come.” His hand outstretches to you and you take it without hesitation.

You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly light up at the way your fingers immediately interlace with his. It’s a small joy to you, but to him it means everything—a testament to how far the two of you have come.

Dinner, as always, is perfect. Dessert even more so. You’re not too full, but more than satisfied. You give your compliments to the chef, who in turn happily skips back to the kitchen like he’s on cloud nine. And you can’t help but look at Sylus and smile as he downs his whiskey like it’s water.

“You don’t compliment your chef enough,” you comment. “One sentence from me and he acts like he’s never heard praise.”

Sylus hums as his brows raise, humored. He chuckles with the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing it to retort, “He knows his cooking is excellent. I suppose I just have a limit to how many compliments I can give out in a day.”

You place your chin in your hand. “Oh, really? Then how many do I get to have in a day?”

Adoration fills his ruby orbs. “As many as you want, my beloved.”

His hand reaches for your left over the table. Sylus’s thumb rubs over your fingers, resting atop your ring finger.

“Have I told you that you look exquisite tonight?” he whispers.

“You haven’t,” you reply cheekily. “I think you owe me a few more, don’t you think?”

The soft music in the background dies as you begin to hear your heart thunder in your ears. You do hope that Sylus can’t hear it pounding away like you can.

“Seems like I do,” he says in an exhale, leaning back in his seat but not letting go of your hand. His eyes have changed—once filled with adoration, now filled with a fire that makes heat rise to your cheeks and desire burn between your legs. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom yet, have I?”

You grin. “You haven’t. I’d like to see it.”

But what you don’t anticipate is your man standing and abruptly lifting you into a one arm carry. Your sharply inhale in surprise, arms immediately weave around his neck for support, but you know he’d never drop you anyway.

You trail your nose under his jaw, pressing a long kiss to his skin by his ear. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, the subtle presser making him hasten his long strides.

“Sweetheart—” Sylus gulps as you press two fingers to his mouth to silence him.

You pepper slow kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin every other kiss. It’s when you reach his collarbone you hear the click of a door. And seconds later you find the plush fabric of blankets underneath you and Sylus’s firm hand cradling the back of your head as he tilts your head back to capture your lips with his.

Between each heated kiss you attempt to catch your breath, only for your lover to devour your mouth with his own again and again.

“Mmmh— Sylus, let me—” another kiss “—catch my breath.”

He has a hard time pulling away. Sylus rests on one knee at the edge of the bed, hands grasping at the back of your bare calves as he catches his own breath and tries to pull himself back to his senses before he finishes himself off early.

While you toss your head back and close your eyes, trying to let oxygen catch up to your brain, Sylus lifts his head to look at you. He drinks in your appearance—the starry night sky sewn into the strapless obsidian dress (one that he had specially made for you) accentuated your body exactly the way he envisioned.

As he watches your breasts rise and fall with every breath, he feels his pants tighten even more. He’s so painfully hard just from simply kissing you—a testament to what you do to him, how deeply you affect him.

He rests his head against the plush of your thigh. As he trails his hand down your leg, he realizes you still have your heels on.

Your head snaps up at the feeling of one heel coming off, then the other.

“Sylus, what— Oh, shit.”

The momentum of him lifting your body further up the bed and hiking your dress up catches you off guard. His mouth latches to your thighs, kissing and biting all the way up until he reaches the fabric of your panties—the only thing between him and what he wants.

“Such a dark red, darling,” he hums. “Was this for me?”

“It might’ve been,” you tease.

As his finger loops around the red fabric covering you, Evol ready to help rip it off, your hand makes its way into his hair and tugs, forcing his eyes to attention.

“Rip these, I’m okay with that. Rip the dress, and I’ll kill you,” you say, half-joking. But damn did you really like this dress.

He chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “Understood.”

As soon as he tears them away and hikes your dress even further around your hips, Sylus’s mouth does nothing short of devour your pussy. You let out the loudest, wanton moan you’ve ever heard from yourself as his tongue buries itself in and against your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows, hands moving to grip the sheets beneath you to maintain some semblance of being grounded as Sylus eats you out like a starved man. Your legs are over his shoulders, allowing him the best access to your womanhood.

“Oh— Fuuuck, Sylus. Ohmygod, please don’t stop,” you beg, threading one hand through his hair again, grip tighter than earlier.

His reply comes in the form of him pushing his thick middle finger inside of you and mouth sucking on your clit. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth. His ring finger promptly follows, stretching your cunt and sinking deep inside of your walls. Tears of overstimulation line your eyes as you grasp at then pillow behind your head.

Both hands twine into his silver locks of hair, pressing him deeper into you. What you miss amidst your own haze of ecstasy is Sylus grinding himself against the mattress to find some sense of relief. His mind is at war, wanting nothing more than to cum right then and there versus wanting to watch his seed spill from your hole. It takes every ounce of self-control of his own body to not climax while he simultaneously loses his mind while his mouth is attached to your cunt.

“Don’t— Please— Sylus! Sylus, I’m gonna—”

Your back arches off of the bed, and you can’t help but press him further into you and grind against his face. Sylus’s arms wrap around your thighs, holding you steady. The deep groan of his satisfaction that leaves him only spurs you on further and further and further until your thighs clench around his head and you cum. Hard.

And Sylus more than enjoys sucking and licking away at your release as you climax, prolonging it as much as he can. He lifts your lower body into the air as he continues his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and tongue, the pressure of your thighs on either side of his head making him dizzy. Your essence coats his chin and nose, your scent driving all his senses wild and pulls the remainder of his blood down to his cock.

He gains a free hand as you tighten your legs around his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and slips it off with practiced ease before moving to unzip and unbutton his pants, tugging away at them.

When your hips stop shaking is when Sylus grabs your thighs with both hands and sets your body back down on the mattress. He hovers over you once again, taking in your disheveled appearance and partially-lidded eyes. His long fingers brush your skin and cradle your jaw.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asks.

You pant and gaze up at him. “Barely.” You swallow. “That tongue of yours is brutal.”

Sylus laughs. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the painful fact that his cock is straining against his pants. Until your knee brushes against it when you lift yourself from the bed and he groans.

You giggle as his head presses against your shoulder.

“You really shouldn’t neglect yourself like that,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Sylus’s lips meet your neck opposite of your arm wrapped around him and presses a long kiss to your sweaty skin, murmuring hotly into your ear, “There’s no one to blame but you, beloved. And I highly suggest you take responsibility.”

You moan and arch into him as his hands work on your dress, unzipping the back entirely and lowering it just below your breasts. You arch your back so he can undo the bra, and as soon as it’s on the floor, his mouth is on your chest. Sylus sucks and bites at your nipples, worshipping them and your breasts as he grinds his clothed erection into your bare pussy, soaking his dress pants in your juices.

You begin unbutton his shirt through the haze of your desire… before you slip your hands through the remaining buttons and fully rip his dress shirt apart, exposing his thick torso. You both chuckle at the sound of the buttons hitting the floor.

“Impatient?”

“Like you aren’t,” you remark.

Sylus shrugs off his shirt in a fluid motion and tosses it to the side from one arm. You manage to slide off your dress within a few moments, just as Sylus manages to get off his pants and briefs and… Oh…

You’d almost forgotten how big he is. Sure, the two of you have spent a couple more… sensual evenings together since you had him use your place as a safe house (and then him bringing you to his), but it always makes you shudder when your eyes land between the apex of his muscular thighs.

His tip weeps with precum, heavy cock red and flushed and—

Sylus’s breath is hot against your ear as he asks, “Like what you see, darling?”

—goddamn it you need it inside of you.

Your nails dig into his bicep, your other hand wrapping around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, and Sylus is more than happy to oblige. His kiss is deep and reverent. A small moan escapes him as you two briefly pull apart for air before diving back into one another.

Everything is hot; your cheeks are flushed with the heat of desire and your pussy aches to have Sylus buried inside of you.

You pull him down on top of you with the arm around his neck, your other hand grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sylus hisses, hips bucking slightly as his fingers clench at his attempts at restraint.

“Fuck,” he pants. His red eyes clear for a moment, turning into a gentleness reserved for you as he asks, “You think you can take it?”

“I think you ate me out enough earlier I’ll manage,” you joke. Then your nails dig into the meat of his back, the sensation making him softly hiss again. “But if you don’t I’ll be doing it for you then.”

Sylus chuckles, nose dipping to your collarbone.

“My beloved is always so greedy, isn’t she?”

There is no retort from you—only a loud moan as Sylus’s tip enters you fills the room. He stops after that though, and as you look up to him to ask him why he stopped, you’re stunned at the sight before you.

Sylus is flushed red, panting and sweating as his muscles flex.

“Sylus?”

“Don’t,” he warns, shaking his head. “Give me… a moment. You feel… too good.”

The implication is clear. Sylus’s head falls as he inches himself a little further, delighting in hearing you gasp as he sinks more and more inches of himself inside of you. It takes all he has not to just cum at the feel of you; every ounce of self-control he has is being tested. He’s never been harder in his life, and being inside of the woman he loves—who feels like heaven wrapped around his cock—only proceeds to spiral him into a deeper pit of pleasure.

“Sylus… Sylus, more, please,” you hears you beg.

He’s halfway in, trying to take his time and let the romance of the evening last. But at that, and the sensation of your nails digging into his back, he finds himself a goner and lets his hips fall into yours, sinking the remainder of his fat cock into the depths of your wet pussy. A deep shudder passes through him, bliss running through his body.

“Fuck. Fuck, you feel divine,” Sylus says in a deep exhale.

“You’re so big,” you gasp, eyes clouded with the haze of lust. “Oh, Sy, you feel so good.”

The praise goes to his head immediately. He drags his cock back out slowly and a whine escapes you, hating the emptiness. But when Sylus places your legs over his shoulders and leans over you, it’s over for you both.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sylus rolls his hips, sliding his full length back into the warm expanse of your pussy. His head falls back, and the pace he sets proceeds to bury you both alive underneath overwhelming ecstasy.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants, clenching his fist into the sheet. “How I feel every time I look at you? Utter perfection is all I see. Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”

All you can feel is Sylus’s weight on top of you and the feel of his heavy cock inside of you as he stretches you open on him, carving your pussy into the shape of his cock. His pelvis rubs against your clit deliciously, spurring you on further. As much as you want to drive your hips up to meet his thrusts, Sylus has you pinned down into a mating press and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

The papping noises of your bodies meeting filled the room, sending your thoughts into an even dirtier place. He feels so good reaching so deep inside of you, tip rubbing against that special spot perfectly, like you’re made to be perfect for each other. You clench around Sylus at another thought and he inhales sharply.

“What’re you thinking about?” he questions.

You shake your head. “N-Nothing.”

His long fingers grab your jaw gently. “Tell me.”

And then he slows his pace. “No, Sylus—”

“Then tell me what my beloved is thinking in that pretty head of hers,” he murmurs into your ear. “Or else.”

“I was thinking… about… Uhm…” Sylus rolls his hips back into you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as he awaits your answer.

“Well?”

“I, uh— A baby.”

At the word, you shy away into your arm. But Sylus doesn’t say anything, which makes you confused. After a couple seconds, you gaze back up at him. His eyes show how stunned he is, pupils blown as no doubt the word also revolves around his own mind.

“Sylus, I— Oh, fuucckk.”

His body weight presses your body into the mattress further, leaving you at his mercy as Sylus’s pace becomes brutal, like he’s let his base instincts take over. His big hand finds yours and twines your fingers together as he drives his cock into your pussy over and over and over again, the squelching noises only growing louder and louder in your ears.

“My kitten… wants a baby then?” He hums into your ear. “She wants me to cum inside of her and carry my baby, is that right?”

“It was… just a thought.”

He laughs as your pussy clenches around him more at his words.

“Seems like it’s more than just a thought.”

Sylus’s mouth meets yours in another kiss, powered by something more than just lust. Your brain turns fuzzy and hot, reality beginning to finally blur as another climax ascends from the depths of your core.

Your eyes shut as his mouth finds the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin with his teeth and you’ve no doubt that there’ll be plenty of love bites scattered across your skin for days after tonight.

When he nips at your ear, you squeak and clench around him again. Sylus groans into your ear, “Do that again.”

You oblige, clenching down on him and making him piston himself in and out of you faster. Every thrust turns into one that pushes the air from your lungs. All you can see, all you can feel is Sylus—feel his body heat as he presses your body down with his; feel the thickness of his cock stretch you open and the weight of his balls as they slap against your ass.

And it feels so good. The shlick and pap noises are getting to you. The coil that’s been winding up all night finally feels like it’s about to burst. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressing into Sylus’s firm chest.

“Ohmygod, Sy, gonna cum, gonna cum fuckfuckfuuucckkk!”

He nips at your earlobe, biting down on it gently before whispering into your ear, “Indulge, my love. Indulge and I’ll fulfill every single one of your desires tonight.”

At long last, the coil snaps. Euphoria pilots itself to your brain and all across your body. You shake from the intensity, having to wrap your arms around Sylus to ground yourself as you reach your high.

Your orgasm sends him over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before he finds himself pressing himself as deep as he can possibly go and releasing his seed inside of your pussy. It’s almost too much, even for him. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum harder than tonight.

Your bodies rock together as you both fall from the heights of cloud nine. Sylus peppers your sweaty skin with kisses, across the bruised love bites he’d left earlier.

It’s only when he feels himself soft enough to slip out of you does he ask, “A family?”

Sylus’s voice is soft. So soft in fact that you barely hear him. You take a moment to reply, only to find yourself being easily lifted from the bed and onto Sylus’s chest.

“It’s… Something that’s crossed my mind a few times,” you admit bashfully.

Silence fills the air for a moment before he asks again, in the same, quiet tone he’d just used.

“With me?”

Your smile stretches across your face instantly. Your lips meet his chest, right over his heart. Your eyes meet his—uncertainty meeting unconditional love.

“And no one else.”

The next three days after are filled with you and Sylus partaking in all the activities that his yacht has to offer (plus more intimate times across the boat and it’s other rooms). He’d told you at one point that he would’ve just used the one he sails on regularly. But due to him wanting to spend more time with you than anything, and for you to have fun during the trip, he’d bought another and hired the captain to ensure safe passage.

Tonight however, was the night that you both were supposed to be arriving at your destination. You tried to help the anxiety and giddiness inside of you, trying to flatten it under a cool demeanor but Sylus just saw right through you.

Of course he would.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like I’m taking you into enemy territory,” he jokes, gaze flicking to you from the stars in the open sky.

“I know that. I just can’t help it,” you mutter.

You shiver from the cold breeze, and Sylus shrugs off his leather jacket and places it over your shoulders. He leans down and zips it partway, resting his chin atop your head.

“Those hunter instincts of yours need to settle down,” he hums.

“I wish they would— Sylus!”

A hearty chuckle leaves him as you bounce away from his hold. Your eyes narrow at his treachery.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t you try and tickle me,” you warn playfully. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, trying to pull the sleeves back from over your palms to point at him. “Or I’m gonna tickle you back.”

Sylus smirks and rubs his fingers together. “Is that a challenge?”

“Mr. Sylus, Mrs. Sylus,” greets a familiar voice.

Embarrassment makes you duck your head away from the captain for a brief moment before you look at him.

“Just thought I’d come and let you know we’ll be docking soon.” The captain takes his hat off and bows before you both. “Thank you for allowing me the chance to sail you both for the last three days.”

Sylus nods his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you for giving us safe passage, Arthur.”

Arthur nods, reapplies his cap and heads back to steer the ship into the upcoming port.

You don’t get to watch as he disappears since Sylus wraps his arms around you, pulling your chin to his chest. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I do believe we’re here.”

The distraction of the captain was long enough that the scenery before you had changed into the moonlit sea into a large landmass illuminated by the full moon above.

Your jaw drops open at the sight, eyes lighting up as you get closer and closer to the port where the ship would dock.

“Sylus, where are we?” you ask quietly.

“It’s an island,” he states. “One that I bought awhile back and was making… renovations for.”

“Renovations? For what?”

He laughs softly and looks at you like you’re a goddess. “For whom, you mean.”

Your eyes widen into saucers. Is he…? Could he seriously mean…?

“Sylus, you bought me an island?” you inquire, utterly flabbergasted.

“I can’t exactly un-buy it, so I do hope you’ll like it,” he replies. To your ears and yours alone you can hear his wavering tone, like he’s awaiting your disappointment. You can’t have that.

You cup his cheeks and force him to look at you again.

“Sylus, I love it; even if it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever been gifted, I love it. It’s just going to take me time to get used to it,” you tell him. Then you step on your tippy-toes and give him an eskimo kiss. “Thank you. I love you.”

You kiss him there at the front of the ship, wrapped in his warm, protective embrace, momentarily oblivious to the world and your surroundings.

What you’re also oblivious to, and have been since the start of the trip, is the fat diamond ring that’s been tucked away, hidden in Sylus’s bottom drawer to his dresser. And also to the fact of his other reason of being nervous.

To him hoping that you’ll say “yes” when he gets down on one knee to ask you to marry him.

But he’ll save that for later. Right now he intends to indulge and savor your lips on his and you being tucked into him, safe from the world to be loved and worshipped by him.

And hopefully, for the rest of this lifetime.