#initial ring silver

[ruffalomark]

Our Initial Jewelry Collection has a great selection of rings, necklaces, charms, and more. So, you’ll have plenty of options to find the perfect gift for anyone.

[mechazushi]

Now I just need to find someone who makes rings that can work with enamel and is willing to accept a bucket of ball bearings and three spare rings I can't wear anymore.

[sirpeppersto]

hate that im allergic to nickel bc my glasses are made of it but i didnt know that until the plating came off, so now i have to periodically paint clear nail polish over it so my nose stops burning and peeling -.-

[cathnospam]

Bakugo has a weak spot on the right side of his neck.

He’s not sure if he always had that sensitive area, or if it was caused by all the scars he got as a teenager, because he sure as fuck was shocked at the moan that just whined out of his throat when you kissed his neck.

“Fuck—!”

He adjusted you further back off of his crotch, uncomfortably so you groaned in confusion.

“Sorry! Did I press on your dick too hard again?—“

“N-no!” He grumbles, “You just…”

You couldn’t quite read his face, it was mixed with annoyance and embarrassment. Like he was mad, but more at himself.

You give him a shy peck on the cheek to test the waters, seeing he didn’t push you away, your eyes were locked on finishing the hickey you wanted to give him.

Trying to finish the job his grip tightens and his palms warm up, you make an effort to ignore it seeing as he usually gets like that when you make him feel good, you keep going.

Bakugo tries HARD to suppress another noise, his throat nearly hurting from how badly he wanted to moan out your name, but regardless of doing so his body still betrays him and you begin to feel something hard press against your thigh.

“Shit…..sorry.” He apologized so softly you almost couldn’t hear it.

“What are you apologizing for?” You shrug aiming your lips back at his weak point. “I take it as a compliment, baby.”

He groans, not having anymore shame at this point he steadily presses your crotch against his and moves you to grind which lead to you moaning even louder against his skin. Your sneaky ass boyfriend TRIED to be slick and think since your moans are so loud you wouldn’t notice his whines of your name, but he isn’t as smart as he thought he was. You instinctively clenched tightly at his rasped voice. He was holding back and it drove you insane.

“Baby….” Pulling back from his neck, seeing his eye lidded, but his pupils dilated , “Are you sens—-“

“Shut the fuck up.”

Your lips curled at his response, knowing damn well you were right. He tried shutting you up with a kiss, not allowing you to dwell on it, however you being on top gave you an upper hand and you pushed him back slightly against the headboard.

“‘M not ganna make fun of you…” Fingers dancing against the silver dog tag you got him with your initials on it. “You sound…cute.”

“Cute?” He scoffed as if you just offended him. “Fuck you im not cuuuuuuaaahh!”

Humming against his exposed neck you also squeezed his bare chest. He’d probably kill you if you played with his nipples,

You’ll wait for that.

The sensation of your slithery tongue alone was enough to have Bakugo close to cumming, he felt it to so he continued his ministrations of rubbing your clothes cunny against his dick.

“Shit—-“ He huffed, trying to catch his breath after holding it while cumming in his sweats. “You—-“

Your giggle turned into a gasp when you felt him pin you backwards on his fully bed, smirking at the view of his fluster face and necklace dangling over your face.

“Why’d you…” His free hand reached inside your panties and rubbed his middle and ring finger against your slimy clit, making you moan out a laugh, “Fucking do that huh?…huh?”

He traced his name on your pussy with his digits making you squirm and cry out his name, didn’t take long for his dick to harden again, making the wet spot on his pants unbareable to wear.

“You’re needy.”

“Says the one who—-“ He stops to plunge his fingers inside you, you tried arching away from him but he pushes you back down to feel all of him. “Is wet as shit. Fuck…”

Kinda is a win win that you found his weak spot, because he spent the rest of the evening finding yours.

[machveil]

Roommate!Simon Riley who’s always got presents on hand for your birthday and holidays. he’s almost embarrassed about stockpiling gifts for you, all neatly tucked in the back of his closet… almost. that nagging embarrassment is quick to fade when your eyes light up, always excited that he bought you something and how, “Simon Riley, you didn’t have to get me anything!”

Roommate!Simon Riley that specifically likes buying you rings. nothing too fancy that would raise your suspicion, but always something shiny and pretty - something he wouldn’t dare tell you how much it cost. silver, gold, anything in between, if he thinks it’d look good on you he buys it. he likes seeing those bands decorate your fingers, reflecting in the light when you happily show them off to friends and family

Roommate!Simon Riley that gets one engraved - his initials delicately printed inside the band. he plays nonchalant, voice even when you notice, “Hm? Engraved is it? Didn’t know.”. you laugh it off, tell him ‘thank you’ before grabbing your phone. he loves when your friends ask you about the jewelry, how you always point to him as the one whose covered you in pretty metals and eye-catching accessories

Roommate!Simon Riley who has a matching ring, your initials engraved on it. snug on his ring finger when he’s at base - pretends it’s a wedding band, that his spouse is waiting for him at home. Simon doesn’t flaunt that ring at home though, not when he can have you tucked against his side. no, Simon doesn’t have that band on his ring finger, he slips it on with his dog tags. tucked under shirt, safe and sound on that silver chain as he holds you tightly

[stylessencefinejewellery]

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[simonrileysfavteacup]

Simon picked your engagement ring himself. He went to the jeweller, saw the ring, and immediately thought of you. He loves it. He’s always kissing your left hand. He’s so in love with you, it aches. 

When the two of you finally get married, he never stops looking at his ring. It’s a plain thick silver band, but he loves it so much. He’s just so afraid he’ll lose it. 

Instead, he wears the ring on his dog tag chain and gets your initial tattooed on him. The day he comes home from deployment, at first, you don’t notice anything different but his facial hair. Then, when you ask him to get you a fork at dinner, you gasp, “What’s that?”

“What?” he raises a brow.

You grab his hand, pointing to the tattoo. “What? Where’s your ring? What’s this?”

“Here,” he tugs at the chain around his neck. “And ‘is is jus’ to show people ’m married.”

“It’s permanent!”

“Is our marriage no’ supposed to be?” 

“But-”

“Are ya tryin’ to leave me, lovie?”

“No…it’s just…permanent…”

“Good. You’re my Mrs. ‘hat’s permanent too.”

You giggle. “Fine. I’m getting one too.”

“Like ‘ell you are. ‘M not letting you ruin that perfect skin.”

“But-”

“Lovie,” he warns. “No means no. I know how much you love me and you hate needles.” 

“Okay…”

“You could spread your legs to prove it though.”

“SIMON!”

[bootsukki]

I think this is cute

It all started with a ring. A simple, band of silver wrapped around Tsukishima’s left ring finger. It wasn’t flashy but it looked particularly new.

His coworkers, Kento and Ran, at Sendai City Museum noticed it immediately, especially when he had to take it off to clean pieces or when he needed to wash his hands.

“Did you see it?” one whispered, leaning against the coffee machine.

“Of course I saw it. How could I not?” another one murmured back, eyes moving towards the tall figure of Tsukishima, who was typing something on his computer.

None of them dared to ask. They all knew Tsukishima well enough to understand prying would get them nowhere.

Why was he wearing a ring? He never wore jewelry, so that initial theory was quickly debunked. Family heirloom? Could be, but still, it looked pretty new and he wouldn’t wear it. Then of course, the most obvious: marriage.

But, to who? Not even one of his workmates knew that he was in a relationship!

Their best bet was to observe him in his natural habitat— the museum. Maybe they could catch a glimpse of his lock screen or some text message received from a significant other. But nothing.

Until a group of students came to visit the fossils exhibit. Tsukishima was always the one who prepared and guided the students around the exhibit and gift shop, but today, he was accompanied by his two coworkers, as new fossils had been added.

“And there is the gift shop. We offer replicas of the fossils and several other objects that you may find interesting.” Tsukishima tells the children and their respective teachers. “We have a more specific area with educational resources for class.”

“Thank you so much, Tsukishima-san.” One of the teachers bows, showing him her respect and gratitude. “We’ll have a look.”

Tsukishima’s gaze lingers on something else for a moment and one of his coworkers notices the direction is going to.

“It’s no problem. If you excuse me, I need to grab something.”

The teachers nod and Tsukishima leaves their side, walking towards the front desk of the gift shop. Kento swats Ran’s arm.

“Look!”

“Kei, you forgot your lunch again.”

Their eyes looked at the shopkeeper, the lovely, bubbly (Y/N).

She stood behind the counter, holding a neatly wrapped bento with a look of fondness. The taller man sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I didn’t forget it… Just to lazy to carry it…”

“Aha, of course…” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, stepping out from behind the counter, leaving the bento behind for a few seconds. Without any doubt nor hesitation, she reached up to fix Tsukishima’s sweater and lanyard. It looked like she had just done that for years—her touch almost familiar.

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, a smile playing on her lips as she tapped a finger against his chest. A finger wearing an almost similar ring to Tsukishima’s, adorned with a small diamond.

Kento and Ran barely held back their gasps.

This was it. This was her. The mystery wife, the lovely (Y/N) that hang out with them, went to karaoke and went out for drinks on Fridays. How long had they been together? How on Earth did they not notice?

Hiding behind a postcard display, they started murmuring about possible timelines, shivers running throughout their bodies at the haze of Tsukishima’s golden eyes flicking in their direction.

“I can hear you, you know?”

Kento and Ran scattered instantly, but not before hearing (Y/N)’s laughter and noticing the playful little smile on Tsukishima’s face.

[airybcby]

જ⁀♡⊹｡° you outshine the morning sun

( sae itoshi x fem! reader )

♡ a/n — just a short drabble bc domestic sae has invaded my brain

♡ word count — 705

♡ content — sae itoshi x reader, sae x fem! reader, made sae abt 25 in this, marriage mentioned, pregnancy mentioned. AN: i'd give this man as many babies as he wants.

♡ synopsis — sae itoshi didn't need to be a soccer god, not as long as he had you

The roar of the crowd still buzzed in Sae Itoshi’s ears as he exited the stadium, the post-game adrenaline barely settled in his veins. The night air was thick with the voices of fans calling his name, their desperation and admiration mixing into a cacophony he had long since learned to ignore.

"Sae! Just one autograph!"

"Marry me, Sae! Please! Just one chance!"

"I’d give you as many babies as you want!"

The shrill voices of young girls, the deep admiration from older men, the wistful sighs of women both young and old—none of it meant anything to him. He kept his gaze forward, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he pushed through the chaos. The only thing on his mind was getting home.

A sleek black car idled by the curb, the driver standing by the door, already well aware of the arrangement. No talking. No questions. Just drive and get him home as quickly as possible, and the tip would be hefty. An even bigger one if the trip was fast.

Sae slid into the back seat without a word, the door shutting out the noise of the world outside. He exhaled sharply, leaning back against the seat as the car pulled away from the stadium and into the quiet of the night. The streetlights blurred past, but he barely noticed them. Instead, his hands moved instinctively to his duffel bag, fingers searching through the smallest inside pocket until they curled around something cool and familiar.

A simple silver ring, discreet and unassuming, warmed quickly in his palm. His thumb brushed over the carved initials—his and yours—etched into the metal. He slipped it onto his ring finger, feeling a sense of calm wash over him.

Yeah. He just needed to get home.

The drive was mercifully quick, and before long, he was stepping out of the car and up the pathway to the house—the one place in the world where he wasn’t Sae Itoshi, soccer legend. He barely had time to set his duffel bag down when something small and fast crashed into his leg.

"Daddy!"

A grin tugged at Sae’s lips as he looked down, teal eyes meeting an identical pair staring up at him with pure joy. His daughter, barely three years old, clung to his leg with all her might. Her soft pink hair was pulled up into two messy pigtails, bouncing as she giggled.

"Hey, sweetheart," he murmured, crouching down to scoop her into his arms. She fit so perfectly against him, her tiny hands grabbing onto his jersey as if she never wanted to let go. And he? He didn’t mind one bit.

"Oh! I didn’t know you’d be home so soon," your voice rang out from the kitchen, warm and full of love. Sae glanced up just as you turned the corner, a wooden spoon in your hand, eyes crinkling at the sight of him. "The game just ended."

"Took a shortcut," he said simply, stepping closer to you.

His gaze flickered down to the soft curve of your stomach, where a second life—one he helped create—was steadily growing. Without hesitation, he reached out, resting a gentle hand there, feeling the warmth of your body beneath his fingertips.

A soft smile played on your lips as he leaned in, pressing a quick but meaningful kiss against them. Before you could deepen it, a tiny voice piped up between you.

"Yuck!" your daughter squealed, squirming in his arms.

You laughed, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of pink hair behind her ear. "You say that now, but one day, you’ll think it’s sweet."

"Nuh-uh!" she insisted, her little nose scrunching up in defiance.

Sae chuckled, finally feeling the weight of the world ease off his shoulders. Here, there were no screaming fans, no demanding coaches, no suffocating expectations. Just you, your daughter, and the quiet hum of home.

Sae Itoshi didn’t need fangirls, fanboys, or old women begging for his attention. He didn’t need adoration from the world, validation from the media, or the empty promises of strangers who only saw him as a soccer god.

Sae Itoshi just needed this.

Sae Itoshi just needed to be home.

Sae Itoshi just needed you.

posting this as an apology for going MIA for a bit :)

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

[djarinova]

matching jewellery

what kind of matching jewellery i imagine the lads guys would like because i cant stop thinking about this . like.. i went to bed and woke up and it was Still plaguing me - lads x reader

Xavier — matching rings, but specifically matching rings on your pinky finger. he wants you both to be wearing the same style ring, on the same finger, on the same hand. the rings are silver, and i think he likes a slightly thicker band, but not a big chunky thing, with a little diamond star on it. he also gifts it to you with a tiny engraved 'X' on the inside of the band (and of course, his has your full name initials on the inside too).

Caleb — matching chains. i may be drawing from his canon use of dog tags here but idk man, something about him always wearing a chain you got him, and him getting to see the same chain around your neck every time he sees you. it makes him feel a little bit crazy. the chains are the same style, but his is slightly longer and has larger links than yours. he likes that yours is a little more delicate than his and i dont think he's too fussed about a particular metal or colour, whatever you'd prefer (although im leaning a lighter shade of gold..)

Rafayel — matching charms. these can go on a necklace or a bracelet, or even a keychain (although he will get pouty if you put it on a keychain and then he will buy you another for a piece of jewellery you actually wear on your person). i think once you have one charm he's more likely to gift you more and more, so you end up having to wear a charm bracelet even if you initially wore the charm on a necklace. it's not his fault he wants you to wear an 'R' around your neck or that this little starfish reminded him of you or that the strawberry is as sweet as your kisses...

Sylus — matching rings. unlike xavier i don't think sylus needs you to wear the ring on the same finger as him, he prefers to wear his on his left thumb but he wants you to wear yours wherever is comfortable, although i do think he would get a little lovesick and gooey if you were to wear yours on your right hand fourth finger (as a symbol of what's to come...). im torn on what metal type he'd want to wear (maybe even a black band), i think he wouldn't necessarily need to match with you in that sense, he wants you to wear the metal type that you want, but he is insistent on your rings sharing the same design and style—they have a tapered band that leads to an engraved feather cross instead of a gemstone.

Zayne — matching bracelets. he likes the simplicity and elegance. he also loves to help you put it on when the two of you are going out for a date evening, it makes his heart beat a little faster when you turn your wrist towards him and look at him with pleading eyes. he's the one to gift it to you, for Christmas, and the image of him going to a store and sorting through each design and asking for an engraving is making me feel insane. the engraving says "all my love is yours" and it's written on a plaque type thing that sits between the two ends of the chain.

[imgonnaeatyouhyugosugitmoto]

Random Solivan Brugmansia Headcanons Part 2

Art Credit: @ Chemziere on IG or @ cheamiiii on Tiktok (in case you can’t read the watermark)

Sol’s a D1 Gooner for m/c

⚠️Warning: Suggestive Language, and Violence Mentioned

—————————————————————

Headcanons 🎃:

Has considered getting more piercings, but you heavily influence this decision. If you told him you like his piercings he’d say something along the lines of “I was thinking about getting more…”in order to get a response out of you. He wouldn’t outright ask you this because he’d be nervous. If your response is along the lines of:

“You should definitely get more! Piercings are cool!” then he’s immediately getting more. Just imagine him straight after lecture speed walking off campus to a piercing shop. Also Bonus points if you suggest a certain piercing. The next day in one of your shared courses he has said piercing(s), though a bit swollen

“Oh that’s nice…” or No response would result in him tweaking out internally. Outside he’s non chalant about it and doesn’t bring up piercings into a conversation again. But He’d crash out, you can imagine he rips out all the piercings and punches the mirror at home, personally I don’t. Sol seems more like the type of person to keep his piercings. But he’d try to take breaks from wearing them, or even wears piercing retainers, since he had piercings before he even “officially” met you. He likes you but those are his piercings man. This is getting to logistical but in theory if each piercing costed about $50 USD (depending on where you go and location on your body and all that, it’s way more than $50 but let’s say $50 and not factor piercing guns which are cheaper) his upper body piercing including his ears would be about $700 USD since he has 5 on each ear, and he has his nipples pierced plus the spider bites on his lips. Only if you outright said “I don’t like piercings” is when he would consider removing his piercings.

Moving on from that analysis about his piercings, he would have some freaky piercings. I saw a person talk about him having a dick piercing and yeah I agree with them (shout out whoever said that) but I wanna add on that he’d have a stack…

Also! Imagine Sol with a tongue piercing… lowkey he’d have a silver one instead of a black one. Yeah he’s mismatching his jewlery but silver ball is superior (I’m sorry don’t cancel me)

Sol would go to great lengths to take care of his piercings! He cleans them daily with saline and does the whole salt water soaks if necessary.

Imagine Sol with a septum, not a ring or the the one withs the ball ends. A SPIKEY ONE!

Sol seems like the type to stretch his septum (if he had one) or his ears. Speaking of stretching his piercings I don’t think he’d be the patient type. He’d probably experience blowout (ouch if you’ve experienced it) because he couldn’t wait.

He gives off impaitient in general. Sol does not wanna play the waiting game anymore

This is more piercing talk but if you have piercings Sol has definitely thought about asking you about matching ones! But if you take the initiative he’d be cheesing, like kicking his feet in the air giggling.

“I was thinking that we get matching piercings Sol” his Jaw drops then he freaks out inside.

I can see Sol getting tattooed since he already has several piercings. Definitely would tattoo your name on him, though its between somewhere visible like his neck or arm or somewhere private like across his chest or above the groin (quite freaky if you ask me).

Some other tattoos that seem very “Sol” could be something Edgar Allan Poe related, maybe a raven in reference to “The Raven” or a line from a poem. A silly idea would be a pumpkin since yk you’re his “pumpkin”

Speaking of that imagine if he had a raven tattoo and you say something like “wow I like your Crow tattoo!”… like Crow? Which sounds like Crowe? Crowe as in that Ichabod?! Yeah Sol’s getting a coverup tattoo or if he’s feeling extra violent he’d scratch his skin off…

This idea is just goofy and doesn’t even sound like a headcanon but imagine Sol tattooed your face on his body somewhere like “aww” but also “wtf?”

Enough with the body mods and tattoo talk, moving on

Would love matching anything. Matching clothes? YES. Matching Jewlery? Sol might as well buy you a wedding ring and propose to you right there. Matching Hair? He already has the hair dye ready. He’s obviously crazy about you so Matching is beyond what he can imagine. Plus it would show others that you belong to him.

Speaking of matching I don’t think he would enjoy any commentary such as “awww you guys are so cute together!” Or “I love the matching the sweaters” like yeah boosts his ego but also “WTF?!” like what do they mean they love the sweaters? Do they love you? Also why are they complimenting you?! Why are they speaking to you?!(Sol is included in the compliments but he’s crazy so no logic there) The Brightside is that ygs are recognized as being together…

He’s probably really into smelling you, even if you are stinky and you came back from the gym or something. Your smell drives him CRAZY.

Forgot to mention but if you ever make him something, he tweaks out. Like oh you made him a bracelet? He wears it even in the shower. You made him lunch? He’s cheesing and finishes every last bite. Wrote him a note telling him “good luck” on a final? Yeah he’s keeping that note forever, of course he laminates it. As mentioned in part 1, he’d have a shrine, and everything you made for him resides within that shrine.

Your Opinion matters as stated on multiple occasions. If you ever say something like “oh short hair looks good on some people” then he’s getting that haircut. Same thing if you like long hair, he’d grow it out for you.

Quite literally everything he does is for you.

While we don’t know information about Sol’s family and if he even has any, if you asked him about his Family he’d get really quiet and you should take that as a hint to move onto a different topic.

I forgot if I mentioned this in my last post, but Sol is the type to wear guyliner and do his eyebrows….

Keeping up appearances is important to him as it directly impacts your perspective on him.

On my Sol you are the apple of his eye

He would enjoy intimate moments: sharing a pair of earbuds with you, video calling late at night, falling asleep next to eachother.

But if you wanna get freaked out and have sex all the time then he doesn’t mind that…

Sol’s down for all kinds of intimacy because it’s with you.

Even though your first “hangout/date” was the arcade at the movie theater, Sol would put in effort towards a “makeup hangout/date” so that you can see the better of him. Plus he’d like to know you and spend time with you. (He does know everything about you but he’ll pretend like he doesn’t know your social security number especially at a moment where you’re aware of the time you’re spending with him god he’s such a freak)

He manifests you. Sol is not exactly the religious or spiritual type but I mean if collecting crystals and getting tarot readings will help him date you then hell yeah. He needs all the help he can get, he already knows he has you but just for security I suppose…

We already are aware that he stalks the shit out of you and likely has photos of you but just imagine Sol walking to a print store asking the cashier to buy a 6 foot poster of you. The cashier isn’t paid enough to question Sol but they’re also like “wtf?”. Logically Sol would probably ask Hyugo for help since Hyugo has resources or Sol has a used and abused printer at home (Lolz)

As Stated in the last headcanon Sol doesn’t seem to be studious but if he needs to then yeah he can lock in. On one assignment he could get a D; the bare minimum, but he can easily get an A. Though the professor would question him if they cared enough.

Sol would lock in for class if it involves you. Although Sol is irrational and aggressive it doesn’t mean he isn’t academically Smart.

Socially he sucks and is awkward plus antisocial. This is seen with his interactions towards you and given the fact that his only friend is hyugo (albeit through a mutual agreement or contract). I mean you don’t just ask someone to get married after they compliment the lunch you made.

Anyone who’s not you isn’t worth his time. Regarding assigned partner work, he’d ask to do it alone or Hyugo in advanced helped him out and had the professor assign the two together. I can see Hyugo also helping Sol out by bribing your professor to pair you together on several occasions.

Sol is the Crazy ex. If you managed to breakup with him he’d go insane. He’d isolate you and kill everyone you love like duhh but let’s start out slow. His immediate response would be to get back together with you, he’d apologize and literally get down on his hands and knees begging you to come back. You’re stupid if you think he would let you go so easily. If he can’t get back together with you through apologizing and begging then he’d move onto finding out the cause. He’s stalking your socials, and also your friends to see if they were the reason. If Sol can’t deduce anything from his investigation then that’s when he becomes hysterical and takes it out on everyone with an axe of course!

Scenario

You: “I’m breaking up”

Sol: “I’m pregnant!”

You: “I meant the phone”

Sol:”Sorry I panicked” ahhhh Sol

Really suggestive but regarding sexual intimacy he’s so freaked out, if you can match his freak then you’re in for a long ride. Sol is the type to be into anything. He has to be open minded for his pumpkin.

An Idea I had is rather than let’s say Sol having photos of you up on his walls, he has portraits and all kinds of paintings of you on his walls plus the photos but more so Art of you. If he was into sculpture then he’d carve a marble statue of you. You are his muse. An analogy that can explain this relationship is how the ancient greek scuptors idealized the body and human form, Sol is the greek sculptor and you are the ideal form of the human body. You are beauty.

Speaking of art, he has definitely crashed out after drawing or painting you. Maybe the lightings off or he drew your eyes wrong, he’s putting that piece into storage or something. While he wasn’t able to capture your essence properly, he can’t bring himself to throw it away or destroy it because he thought of you while making it. The next piece he spends extra time on it.

He’s such a yearner. He has that yearning playlist dedicated to you on Spotify. I can already envision the Jeff Buckley “everybody here wants you” or Radiohead “all I need” albums on the playlist

Speaking of Music Sol looks like the type of listen to pierce the veil and sleeping with Sirens or some other alternative music but in actuality he’d listen to your favorite music (if it is actually PTV and SWS then hell yeah) or some other sort of yearning music directed towards you

Sol has written Poems about you. (Yk Since he likes Poe)

Sol’s Poems would range from Haikus about you to feelings of rage towards Crowe but also the frustration he feels waiting for you to notice him.

He is the ultimate Crowe hater. D1 Anti-Crowe.

To be honest Sol’s obsession with you is quite deluded. He is self aware that he is unhealthily obsessed with you but he doesn’t care. Feelings of doubt towards you are nonexistent and he’d shut down any contradictions. If Hyugo were to comment on Sol’s infatuation with you, Sol would be infuriated and say something snide like “your advice wasn’t a condition I agreed to” or straight up “shut the fuck up.”

In the “No Witnesses ending” where you strangle him with his choker, he probably enjoyed that. The physical part, not the part where you’re crying about Crowe because you love Crowe and not Sol. Boo Crowe👎 also Boo Hyugo👎 after he stabs you

It’s canon from Fantasia Tumblr that after the NW ending that Sol begs Hyugo to kill him. But if Hyugo doesn’t kill him, Sol would die exactly how you did. Sol would stab himself in the chest, kind of sweet in a sense, but it’s symbolic. It’d be retribution for your death indirectly caused by Sol.

Sol has a belt collection and specifically a studded belt one. Just imagine Sol with a green checkered belt.

Sol would change his aesthetic for you. He’d be like Ren from 14 days with you (if yk). If you say that you prefer softer aesthetics then he works on becoming your preference. You’re funny if you think you can have a type, like what do you mean type? Sol is your type and Your type is Sol. Sol becomes your type, your ideal boyfriend and eventually husband.

Sol pours his blood sweat and tears into you. All of his being goes towards you. You are his reason for living (duhhh)

I feel like one of Sol’s main methods for courting you is through imitation he’s like the periwinkle purple audio. If you like a certain food then all of the sudden that’s Sol’s favorite food. Your Likes, dislikes and hobbies become a part of Sol. Imitation is a smart tactic since people tend to go for others that are like them/ similar. Shared tastes is an easy way to make conversation,

Sol doesn’t care about the “opposites attract” trope, especially if its aesthetic wise . Only if you believe in the “opposites attract” trope then Sol would be fine with it

He’d let you yap about interests, some drama you heard, complaints. He’s a listener, but he can be a yapper (only if you want him to be)

I feel like sometimes Sol get tired of cooking since he cooks lunch for Hyugo and himself all the time.

Sol has a high tolerance for mostly anything you do. Mayb you kept burning the food while you guys were cooking at you apartment, he doesn’t mind it happens! Plus it’d be an honor for him to taste your cooking. Or Maybe you made stupid financial decision, dw Sol’s got you. But if you spend more time with someone other than Sol? That’s his final straw.

—————————————————————

Okay That’s enough. I spent over 2+ hours writing these and I can see a part 3. These have been checked for errors to the best of the abilities. Again thank you for all the support! And Suggestions are appreciated! I noticed in this series of headcanons I jump back and forth between ideas, apologies in advance, things just come to mind. I know I said I would write Crowe headcanons and I will soon! Also I don’t know if any of you notice but my formatting is between two types as I progress as a blogger. Okay enough thanks again you perverts… Also let me clarify that I do not condone the things Sol has done to m/c in the game, let me live and have imaginary headcanons, though some are on the far side of headcanon much less canon behavior.

[jennxxe]

Permanently marked.

pairings — erik campbell x fem! reader

summary — he gets your name tattooed over his chest.

warnings — cursing, getting tattooed, he lq wants u to baby him

a/n — manifesting a man like this thru my writing. this is js a cute lil short fic.

He said it like it was nothing. Deadpan, like he was letting you know he was gonna grab a smoke. Not declare lifelong emotional insanity.

“Yeah, I’m getting your name tatted,” he told you, flicking through needles like he was choosing a sandwich order. “Over the sternum. Big.”

You paused, looking up from your phone. “Excuse me?”

Erik didn’t even look up from the tray of freshly sterilized needles he was loading like a psychopath. “You heard me.”

You blinked. “You’re kidding.”

Finally, he looked at you—blue eyes steady, unreadable, but something flickered there. Not joking. Not exactly.

“Nope.” He gestured lazily to his chest. “Right here. Over the bone. Big enough to see from space. Maybe throw a little filigree under it, just to piss off my boss.”

“My full name? Not initials?”

“Yeah. Not some weak ass initials or hidden spot behind my ear. Your full name. Dead center.” A beat. “That way if I die, whoever’s scraping me off the pavement knows who ruined me.”

You couldn’t tell if your heart was pounding from horror, arousal, or some toxic cocktail of both. “Are you insane?”

He tilted his head. “Little bit, yeah. Thought we covered that already.”

And then he was shirtless, because of course he was. Sprawled back in the chair like it was no big deal, his pierced chest on display—those little silver rings glinting in the light like they knew they were part of the problem. He had one arm slung behind his head, the other resting low on his stomach. Ridiculously calm for someone about to have your name drilled into his body forever.

The tattoo artist raised a brow. “You sure about this, man?”

Erik didn’t even blink. “Not even slightly. Let’s go.”

You should’ve stopped him. Should’ve talked him out of it. But something about the way he lay there unguarded, cocky, quiet made your throat go tight. This man, with his temper and his filthy mouth and his emotional range of a microwave dinner, was about to mark himself with you.

And he didn’t even flinch.

You watched every second of it. The machine buzzed loud in the silence, echoing in your chest. The lines started sharp, bold, no delicate cursive. Just unapologetic black ink slicing across skin. Your name, letter by letter, carved into him like a dare.

He winced once, maybe twice, jaw clenching but he didn’t say a word. Just stared at the ceiling, fists curled, breathing steady like it didn’t hurt. Like he’d take a thousand needles if it meant making you unignorable.

The artist glanced at you halfway through. “People usually get initials. Or something abstract.”

Erik snorted. “Yeah, and people are cowards.”

When it was done, the skin around the ink was raw and red, a little swollen, like it was still becoming. He sat up slow, hissed through his teeth, then turned to the mirror. Looked at it.

Then looked at you.

“Well?” he asked, like he didn’t just do the most unhinged romantic gesture anyone had ever done in a strip-mall tattoo shop. “You gonna cry, or kiss me?”

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “You are such a dumbass.”

He stepped closer, eyes still on yours. “Yeah, well. I’m your dumbass now. Legally. Kinda.”

You ran your fingers lightly over the fresh ink and watched him shiver, just slightly. He tried not to show it. He failed.

“If you break my heart,” he said quietly, voice rough, “I’m charging you double to laser it off.”

You laughed, soft. “You wouldn’t laser it off.”

He met your eyes.

“You’re right,” he said. “I’d cover it with a skull and pretend it never happened.”

You go back to your place eventually, pulling up his shirt over his chest as you straddle him on your bed.

“Don’t touch it,” he muttered, voice rough, barely masking how much the fresh ink stung. “It’s pissed off enough already.”

But the second your fingers hovered near the red, swollen skin, he flinched, and then grabbed your wrist—not hard, but firm enough to stop you.

“I said, don’t,” he growled, but his eyes weren’t cold. They were… something softer. Vulnerable, even.

You raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Since when did you get so needy?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m not needy.”

“Sure.”

He sighed again, looking anywhere but at you. “It’s not the tattoo. It’s the stupid aftercare shit. Gotta keep it clean. Dry. No rubbing.”

You leaned in closer, voice dropping low. “So you want me to baby you.”

Erik blinked, like you’d just solved a puzzle he didn’t want to admit he was stuck on.

“Don’t say that.”

“Say what?”

“That I want you to take care of me.”

You smiled wider. “I’ll take care of you.”

His jaw twitched, and before you could react, he grabbed your hand and pressed it against the fresh ink. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin and just for a moment, the edgy ass exterior cracked.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered, voice rougher now. “Especially not Julia. I’m supposed to be the badass who doesn’t need shit.”

You chuckled softly. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

And as you traced the letters slowly, feeling the raised lines beneath your fingertips, he let out a low, contented hum. The closest thing Erik Campbell had to a purr.

[jarofstyles]

Merlot

Hello my lovely ducklings. I promised a good age gap DILF sorta thing and I’m here to hand ‘em over. He’s getting some silver at the temples and she’s loving every second of it. Let me know what you think 🍷

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second part and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8k

Warnings- age gap, dilfrry, smut, oral (m + f receiving) unprotected sex (please wrap it up irl), exhibitionism, daddy kink if you squint, and all the fun stuff.

“I hate to ask this cliche question, and it absolutely pains me to ask in such an uncouth way- but do you come here often?” Peeking over the rim of the glass, amber liquid brushed his top lip and the ice cubs clanked as the smoky liquor hit his tongue.

God knew what he was doing- the girl in front of him looked too young for him, but she had struck up the conversation first. Commenting on his silver lion’s head ring and asking where he’d gotten it, wide eyed and eager as she looked up at him with that pretty pout and mascara coated lashes. Perhaps it was the crippling loneliness of divorce, maybe it was the hint of a buzz of his second drink, or even a hint of desperation that had him continuing the conversation with the younger woman as she took the bar stool in front of him- but she seemed receptive. Leaning into the conversation and keeping eye contact, she played into him.

"Cliches can be cute sometimes." She laughed as she placed her own glass down, now empty. "I don't, no. I'm not one for the whole going out thing. Not anymore. I was in uni, but I think as soon as you graduate they take away your tolerance card." Rolling her eyes playfully she felt a lick of satisfaction in getting a chuckle out of him. "And what about you? Do you like to come to bars with overpriced drinks to talk to random people who decide to invade your bubble to ask where your pretty jewelry is from?"

"Well, I can't say I make a habit of it, but sometimes a man needs to escape the responsibilities of reality- and as much as I adore my pets, I think they’re tiring of hearing my voice.” He shook his head as he flexed his fingers, looking back down at the conversation starter. Pretty eyes met his own. It had been so long since he felt flustered but she had done a pretty good job at making him feel a little off kilter in the best way. A break from the mundane.

“I’ll have to agree with you on them revoking your tolerance once you exit uni. Though I will say it’s a blessing in disguise. I wasn’t terribly into partying in my last year, considering I’d started getting awful hangovers. Almost like s’bad for you, or something.” He teased, leaning against the bar top. It was clear that they’d shifted closer to each other through their conversation and he tried to not get his hopes up, but he sort of did feel like she was giving him… those sort of eyes. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, though.”

“You’re not.” She said simply, looking up at him. Usually, facial hair wasn’t something she considered much at all. Not many around her wore it, but she had to say the longer she looked at him, the more she liked it. It was just… masculine. Rugged, in a way, but he kept it groomed. This man was interesting all around, with pretty rings and a deep raspy voice, seafoam eyes and a little tiny gray streak starting near his temple. God, that was hot. “I’m plenty happy talking to you.”

His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those eyes sparkling with something he hoped was interest, but at the very least looked like genuine intrigue. Nothing about their encounter led to her feeling otherwise. It was a nice change, feeling the ease of a conversation flow even if he stumbled on words when he accidentally looked down at her lips.

Fuck it.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "I’m glad t’hear that. You're very easy to talk to." he said, his voice low and warm. The risk was there, initiating a bit of touch, but he had fo test to waters. See where this was headed. Was she looking for a safe haven? A reliable guy who didn’t look like a creep (hopefully), someone to buy her drinks as she pitied the older man at the bar, or… was this headed the direction the heat in his belly desperately wanted.

“Am I?” Her head tilted slightly, smile slightly shy but making no effort to move from where his fingers hovered slightly. “I do get told I have problems knowing when to shut up and let things be quiet, so I suppose that tracks. It can be nice in conversations.” Especially when he had seemed slightly apprehensive of her at first and now warmed up. “You’ve got a nice voice. It’s nice to talk to you.”

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to keep talking, then." He said softly, his voice growing even warmer as he leaned in closer, his eyes flicking back down to her lips briefly before returning to her eyes.

“I agree.”

Y/N could be considered bold at times, but she liked that he was showing some effort- some interest. It was give and take, push and pull, a fun little game as she was given a perfect chance when someone else approached the bar top from behind Harry. “Oop- come ‘ere.’ She laughed, gently tugging him in as her ankle hooked around the back of his knee to tug him into her. “Someone’s tryn’ to make an order.”

Now he was closer than she had anticipated, stood between her thighs as she sat on the barstool with her leg wrapped around his. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get in your space.” The girl could feel his body heat. Fuck, he smelled so good. None of that… the familiar cheap colognes and aftershaves she was used to, not was it overpowering. Harry smelled expensive and spicy with some sort of leathery vanilla and she had to wonder what it was. "You smell really good..."

"No, no, it's fine..." He said softly, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her, their faces inches apart. He didn't move away, instead, he leaned in even closer, his hand resting on her knee. “Thank you.” The heat felt a little overwhelming in his cheeks. Pathetic to be a grown man blushing over such a simple compliment but he was so close to her now, body head radiating off of her and she smelled equally as good. “Um, so do you.”

He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent. It was a unique blend of floral notes, with a hint of citrus and a sweet, vanilla-like undertone. It was feminine, youthful, and intoxicating. Sweet and fresh. It didn’t choke him in floral and musk like the women who had been after him since his signature had barely dried on his divorce papers, but something that he vaguely remembered from his own days around her age. Perhaps that was a sign he should back off, but he couldn’t. He felt himself getting lost in the scent, his head spinning slightly as he continued to breathe her in.

His hand on her knee nearly burned but she relished in the feeling, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled slightly at him. It was her first time attempting something like this. Older men were always a thing for her, a desire, but never one she felt bold enough to go for. Now, though, she wondered why she had waited. The feeling in her stomach and the delicate way she felt under his touch was something that had her nearly giddy.

“I like the mustache.” She pointed to it. “It’s a mature look. In a good way.” Of course she didn’t want to offend him, make him feel like she was calling him old. “Guys I’m around usually can’t pull it off. But you do.” Braving a touch, she let her fingers run over his jaw and felt a slight bit of scruff. “Are y’gonna go for a full beard? Or no?”

"Maybe..." Harry murmured, leaning into her touch. "Depends on how well it's received..." The joke was cracked softly, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as she touched his face. He let his hand slide a little higher up on her thigh, squeezing gently. "Thank you for the compliment though. Was hoping it wouldn’t be a bad thing cause I noticed y’looking at it.”

“Mm, I was. It’s nice.” Sexy. Her eyes felt heavy as she watched his lips curl in a slight smile. “ I’m assuming that there’s no missus at home?” She asked lightly. “You don’t seem like a cheater, Harry.” It was a tease, but he didn’t wear a ring on his ring finger. Usually she never gave men the benefit of the doubt but selfishly, she wanted to be right so she wouldn’t feel guilty about imagining her inner thighs raw from beard burn later tonight.

"No missus." He confirmed, his thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh as he opened his eyes to look at her. "Just me, and the office. I've been too busy to think about dating, let alone finding someone serious." He admitted honestly, his gaze lingering on her face. "I mean, I was married. Briefly." He said, his expression growing slightly somber. "But that's over now. It didn't work out." He shrugged, trying to downplay it, even though the divorce had been messy and painful. "What about you? Boyfriend at home?"

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She frowned. It wasn’t something she’d pry on because she could see it bothered him a bit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. Nor that she didn’t feel bad. “I’m single, thank god. My last boyfriend was a complete prick.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Cheated on me a few times on a boys holiday. Was stupid enough to post with other girls and think people wouldn’t send it to me just because he hid stories from me. but it was a relief, anyways.” It sounded cold, callous maybe, but it was the truth. “It’s just me now as I figure out what to do.”’

"He sounds like an idiot." He grumbled, his hand tightening lightly on her thigh. "You're too good for that." He paused, his eyes flicking over her features. "What do you mean, figure out what to do? Like, with life?"

“Yeah. Career wise mostly. I think I want to do writing but it’s been hard to tell lately. I do that part time and then work at a cafe as a waitress and pick up shifts when I need the money. I’m tired all the time so it’s taking me longer to simply sit down and figure out 100% what I want to do but, that’s life.” She shrugged. “So I get suckered into going out to bars with my coworkers and getting a buzz so I go up to a handsome man and demand to know where his ring is from, so it suppose it isn’t all bad.”

"Writing, huh?" There was intrigue in his voice as he took in her answer. The compliment wasn’t lost on him, and it fueled that bolder part of him that wanted to break out. "Like, books, or journalism? I happen to be in publishing, so if that’s something you’d like to walk about we can…." He trailed off, his thumb continuing to rub soothing patterns on her thigh. "It’s not the easiest thing to break into but you’ve got a lot going for you. I’d be willing to help you if you feel ready.” . That was a genuine offer, regardless if he got laid… but he still felt that the way she was looking at him had an undertone

"You should come by my office sometime, if you want." He offered, his voice low. "I mean, if you're interested in publishing. We could... talk shop. Or something." He added, his hand slowly creeping higher up her thigh as he spoke.

“Or something?” She grinned widely. “Are you making a pass at me, handsome stranger Harry?” Her fingers stroked down his jaw towards his neck, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I mean, m’being serious about helping you but… Maybe a bit of flirting is happening." He whispered, tilting his head to the side to give her better access. "I mean, you did ask where my ring was..." He pointed out softly, his hand now resting high up on her thigh, fingers spread wide, said ring gleaming in the low light. "And I haven't exactly been getting much action since the divorce..."

Eyes fell down to his hand and back up to his face, ever so slightly spreading her legs more to allow him to step closer between them. The heel of her shoe gently ran over his calf, biting lightly on her lower lip as she tried to keep the smile off her face. “And is that the only thing you want from me?”

Harry's breath hitched as she spread her legs, his heart racing at the subtle gesture. His hand tightened ever so slightly on her thigh, his fingers digging in just a bit as he leaned in closer. "No," He admitted quietly, his voice husky. "But it's a good start."

“Tell me.” She slipped her hand down to let them curl into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve never been with an older man before, Harry. Are you all just as shitty as the younger ones? Or are you better?”

Harry's eyes darkened as she slipped her hand under his shirt, the rough pad of her fingers against his skin making him shiver. "I'm better." He said confidently, his voice deep and rumbling. "I know what I want, and I know how to treat a woman."

The man’s hand tightened on her flesh as she let out a breathy sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "With respect," He said simply. "With kindness and attention. I open doors, I pull out chairs, I make sure they're comfortable and cared for. And in bed…" There was a pause, a slight smirk on his face as he averted his gaze for a single moment.

“In bed?” She echoed, looking up at him expectantly. “Don’t keep me on edge here. I’m dying to know.”

Harry smirked at her, his hand moving higher up her thigh, stopping right at the hem of her panties. His knuckles could feel how humid she was, no denying she was wet. It was hard to keep focused, but he had to. "Well, Y/N… I make sure they're satisfied," He said, his voice low and sultry. "I take my time, I pay attention to their body, I explore and learn what makes them tick."

“So you won’t just cum and roll over and fall asleep?” She hummed, her other hand running under his blazer and over his back. “Because I’m real tired of giving it my all and barely getting a subpar orgasm out of it. It’s why I was trying to be celibate for a while…”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not on my watch," He said, his thumb brushing against her panties. "I'll make sure you're thoroughly satisfied, multiple times if needed. I'll hold you close, kiss you, tell you how beautiful you are, while I make love to you."

“Ooo… he makes love..” She cooed, giggling lightly before leaning into whisper the next words to him. Was this an older man thing? Or a literature person sort of thing? Waxing poetically about the things he could provide, it all sounded amazing. But she had to know. “But can you fuck? Can you make me feel it for days, bruise my ass, get me so wet I ruin your sheets?”

Harry groaned quietly her words, his thumb pressing against her panties, feeling how soaked they were. "Fuck, yes." He growled under his breath, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "I can be rough, I can be gentle, I can do whatever the hell you want. All y’have to do is ask."

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed over her clit through her panties, looking to the side as she attempted to see if anyone was paying attention- but considering how crowded it was tonight, no one was paying them much mind. “So you’ll take me back to your place and make me cum? That’s what I want.”

Harry nodded, his thumb rubbing against her. "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll take you back to my place and make you cum so hard you'll see stars. And then I'll keep going, as long as you want, until you can't take it anymore."

“God.” The girl’s head rolled toward and thumped on his shoulder, feeling him chuckle as he rolled his thumb over her swollen clit. The lacy scrap of material she considered panties did little to hide how slick she was, the older man having plenty of fun playing with her as she turned her head and nipped her teeth into his throat.

Harry let out a low hiss at the sharp little bite, his hand still pressing against her clit through her panties. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out a text message before putting it back in his pocket.

“W-What are you doing?” She murmured, slowly pressing her lips to his skin and staining it with her lipstick. He was casual about playing with her, acting like stroking her clit was second nature as his other hand adjusted the straps of her dress back up from where they’d begun to droop.

Harry smirked as she inquired, his thumb still making small circles against her clit. He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "I'm sending a message to my housekeeper, to make sure the bed is prepared for when we get back to my place."

“God, M’gonna suck your dick so good.” She sighed, a tipsy giggle leaving her throat. “It’s big. I knew it was when I came over here but… shit, I’m gonna feel it for days.”

Harry grinned as she grumbled against his neck, his hand leaving her panties to grip her hip possessively. "You're going to love it, baby. I'm going to stretch your little mouth wide, and you're going to take every inch like a good girl." He crooned low in his throat. “But you need to get that pretty ass up and come t’the car with me. My driver is here.”

——-

Y/N let out a squeal of delight as Harry tossed her into his bed. His Californian King with a canopy, four postered, hand craved fucking bed frame, his shirt unbuttoned, belt undone and jacket on the floor. Her dress was over her hips and she wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten here, but what she was sure of was the fact that she really did like kissing him. “Kiss me.” She demanded, grabbing his scruffy face as he crawled up the bed and hovered over top of her.

Harry chuckled at her demanding tone, his mustache brushing against her lips as he obliged her request. He kissed her deeply, his hand wrapping around her jaw to pull her close. As they made out, he let go only momentarily to reach down and grab her dress, yanking it up over her head and tossing it carelessly aside.

That left her in just the pathetic excuse of lace panties, as she had forgone the bra for the sake of the dress, and there was no complaints on his end. Her hand pushed at the shoulder of his shirt, trying to get it off of him. “Want you closer.” She mumbled, leaning into him with a mewl as he pulled back to do as she asked. It was erotic and hot and she was surprised by the amount of tattoos he had, but god, did she want to see more of him.

Harry grinned, feeling her warm hands pushing at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing her to pull it off of him. His tattoos were extensive, covering most of his arms, chest, and back. Inquisitive hands ran over her sides, marveling at her form compared to his own build.

The man bent down and started to place kisses along her collarbone and up her neck. His rough hands squeezed her sides gently, thumbs brushing along her ribs. He continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his facial hair tickling her sensitive skin. He whispered, "Wrap your legs around my waist, baby."

She did as asked, eyes fluttering shut as she could feel him through his trousers. Of course, she’d been right. The man’s cock was big like she had expected, and it was thick. Throbbing against her through the fabric, her mouth watered slightly as she rubbed herself against him, fingers finding his hair as he made his way down her throat. “Fuck, it’s been so long.” The slight scratching of the facial hair only made her feel more sensitive, like she was on a live wire. It was decided that she definitely liked it now.

Harry groaned at her words, the sound coming out more like a rumble from his chest. He continued to kiss and nip at her throat as she ground herself against him. His hands squeezed and gripped her ass, encouraging her movements. "God, you feel so damn good, and m’not even inside you yet."

Harry paused for a moment, looking up at her with a heated gaze. "You're so precious, so sweet... I've never been with anyone like you before." His voice was gruff, filled with desire. He ran his hands up her sides, marveling at her smooth skin. The curves, the indents, all of it was new and exciting.

“No?” She asked softly. “I’ve never been with an older man either. Kinda like it.” There was no hesitation in admitting it. “Was your ex wife not good to you, Harry?”

Harry's expression darkened briefly at the mention of his ex-wife. "She wasn't... attentive. And she certainly never looked at me the way you are now." He buried his face in her neck once more, kissing and nuzzling her skin.

“No?” It was astounding. “I don’t know how. If I had a man like you…” She let out a breathy laugh. “You’d have to pry me off of you. you are so attractive, so sweet… Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be all over you, all the time.” It wasn’t something she could really understand. She barely knew the guy but she liked what she saw, and she liked it a lot.

Harry's heart swelled with pride at her words. He felt his ego growing a bit, having this beautiful young woman fawn over him. "I think she was always more interested in the status and prestige that came with being married to me, rather than actually being in love with me." It wasn’t something he liked to think about but in this instance he felt okay with it. If it hadn't ended, he wouldn’t end up here.

His lips continued to kiss and caress Y/N, his hands roaming over her curves almost in awe of what he had his hands on. It wasn’t what he had expected. People watching at the bar was his goal, really. He had one night stands a few times but he didn’t necessarily want this to be a one time sorta of thing. Not when she smelled this good and her lips tasted like cherry wine. He wanted to know what books she liked just as much as he wanted to know how she looked when she came. "But now I have you in my bed, and you're looking at me like I'm the most desirable man you've ever seen, so I think m’doing okay." He crooned, nipping at her neck.

“Because you are.” The girl purred. “All man and power in the best way. Not socially, but in what you are. You exude it.” Her cunt rubbed against him, making her eyes lull. “I knew you’d have a big dick. Knew it just walking up, how you stood. I wanted it inside of me.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "Is that right? You wanted me inside you from the moment you saw me?" His hands gripped her backside firmly, spreading her cheeks as she ground against him. "Well, you're going to get it, baby."

“Mmm… I want it now.”

Y/N nearly whimpered as he pulled away but quickly shut up as she watched him stand up, hands working the button of his trousers. It took her seconds to lift up and get on her knees in front of him, shooing his hands away to take over. it had been months since she’d given head and while she wasn’t a normal lover of it, she had been dying to get her hands on him.

Harry watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she pushed his hands away and undid his pants herself. He bit his lower lip as she slowly revealed what she'd been craving. "You don't have to do that, baby." He said hoarsely, knowing full well that he wanted her to- but he wouldn’t make her. It would be more than okay if he focused on her. He got off on giving, and that’s what he focused on.

“Need to.” She gave him a look as she slowly tugged the zipper down, guiding his trousers down before palming him over his briefs. “Fuck, I’m gonna be full of this.”

Harry let out a low moan at her grip and the words that followed. The image of her full and well used was enough to send any red-blooded man to their knees, but he just stood there in front of her, letting her take control, letting her give him pleasure. He watched as she pulled his boxers down, freeing his length. His hands moved to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He could see the lust in her gaze, and he couldn’t help but sigh again at the sight of her.

His thick, veined shaft jutted out proudly from a trimmed thatch of dark hair. The head was a dark, angry red and already glistening with precome. The older man let out a sharp breath as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, slowly starting to stroke him. He watched intently as she gripped his cock, sliding it over the sensitive length, causing it to pulse in her grip.

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine as she watched his control come undone. Her eyes were locked onto him, watching his cock pulse and throb in her hand. She could feel it grow harder with each stroke, leaning herself down and sticking out her tongue for a taste.

The sensation of her tapping tongue against the tip of his cock made him shudder, watching the precum string from his slit to the pad of her pink tongue. He looked down at her, seeing the hot promise in her eyes- this was going to be good and he knew it. She slowly began to slide the head of his cock back and forth between her lips, teasing it with her tongue.

Y/N wasn’t one to call any cock pretty, but she would dare to say it for him. Harry’s cock was appealing in the way most others hadn’t been. Maybe part of it was her overwhelming attraction to him in general, but she felt even more eager to make him feel good than she had with anyone else in the past. “I want to take it in my throat. I can do it, I promise. Jus’ need your help.” Her plea was finished with a kiss to the tip before opening her mouth, looking up at him to let him take over.

He guided her head forward gently, encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth. "Relax your jaw, baby, you can take it." He coaxed softly, his voice laced with desire. As Y/N did as he asked, Harry felt his cock slide deeper into her warm, wet mouth. Her lips stretched around his girth, pushing in slowly before he felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. He could feel her nose pressing against his pubic bone as she struggled to take him all in. “Shh, sweetheart. Just gotta get it wet for me, show me what you can do.”

He held her head steady, his hands gently gripping her hair as he started to slowly thrust his hips. The sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth filled the room, along with the occasional gagging noise as she struggled to accommodate his size.

"You're doing so well, baby," Harry praised, his voice low and gravelly. "Look at you, takin’ it like a good girl. You're gonna make me come so hard today, aren’t you, sweetheart? Just like that, that's it- relax that throat for me..."

As Harry continued to talk to her, his sweet words and praise, Y/N's eyes began to water from the effort of taking him so deep. She gagged a few times, her hands coming up to his thighs for support, but she refused to pull away for longer than a few seconds to catch her breath.

Her cheeks hollowed and her jaw ached, but she was determined to take him all in. Harry's hands moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, fucking her mouth with more urgency. "That's it, baby. You're making me so hard... S’been so long... Been ages since anyone’s made me feel like this..." Harry's voice trailed off into a low moan as Y/N finally managed to take him all in, her nose pressing against his lower abdomen. “Tha’s it, right there- fucks sake.”

Harry's hips began to thrust involuntarily, fucking her mouth with shallow pumps as he held the back of her head, still buried deep in her throat. He released the grip, trying to urge her off- but she didn’t want to. "Fuck... you’ve got t’pull off, sweetheart..." he groaned, his breathing heavy and erratic. “Need t’fuck you.” Y/N whimpered around his thickness, her eyes watering as she shook her head slightly, indicating that she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to taste him, to drink him down like he had with her. Harry's grip tightened in her hair, his voice strained.

"Babe...you've gotta-you've got to... please," Harry begged, his voice cracking as she continued to suck him off, her head bobbing and nose brushing his thatch of hair, making his eyes clench shut. "If you don't stop now, M’gonna, fuck...I'm gonna cum in your mouth..."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping his thighs tightly as she continued to suck him enthusiastically, eager to taste him. Harry's breathing became rapid and shallow, his fingers tightening in her hair as he struggled to hold back. "Y/N, last chance...I'm-"

The girl moaned as she felt him stiffen, his hips bucking forward as he finally gave in and let go, filling her mouth with his warm release. Watching his face fall in ecstasy, it was going to be worth the soreness tomorrow. She struggled to swallow it all, some of it dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. Harry's knuckles were white from gripping her hair so tightly, his body trembling as he came deep in her mouth. The sight of her swallowing him down was almost too much for him to handle, and he had to close his eyes and focus on not passing out. It truly had been a long fucking time.

As Harry finished cumming, Y/N eagerly cleaned his sensitive prick with her tongue, licking and sucking until he was completely clean. She ran her tongue along the veins and underneath the head, making him shudder and pull back. "Too sensitive...God, you're so good at that." he praised breathlessly. There was slight disbelief in there too, a slight tingling in his thighs as he looked at her as she pressed sloppy kisses to his hip bone. Mascara smeared under her eyes and lipstick a faded smeared mess, he wondered how he had gotten this lucky.

Harry needed a moment to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intense orgasm. He looked down at Y/N, her messy appearance only making her more adorable to him. "You know what would be perfect right now?" he asked, his voice still shaking slightly.

“What?” Her voice croaked, feeling his thumb brushed away some of the tears on her cheek that had fallen from the gagging.

"Letting me get a taste of that pussy I've been fantasizing about." Harry suggested, his eyes still lingering on her messy and sated appearance as he pulled her up and pushed her to lay back down on the bed. “S’my turn now. Spread those perfect legs and let me see that cunt.”

Y/N obediently spread her legs wide, letting Harry see her dripping wet pussy. He let out a low groan at the sight as he got on his knees, his thumbs spreading her lips apart to reveal her slick folds. He buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her scent deeply before diving in and licking her from asshole to clit. There was no wasting any time or pretending to be shy about a single thing.

A started squeak left her mouth as her head popped up, hands gripping his head as he dove right in with little hesitation. Harry hadn’t seemed like the type to have any reservations in taking what he wanted, and it was being proven by how his tongue slid over her most sensitive parts.

He continued to eat her out with reckless abandon, his tongue fucking her pussy as if it belonged to him. Her breathing was heavy as he sucked on her clit, nibbling at it gently before returning to lap at her folds. His hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks wide to give himself better access to her tight hole. He wanted to have it all. “S’this okay, baby?”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N hadn’t really had anyone touch her there before but she couldn’t say she hadn’t been curious and self explored. It was always something she wanted to play around with and it felt exciting, handing herself over to the man like that.

Harry grinned mischievously against her wet flesh, his hands spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper. He pushed his thumb against her hole, slowly sliding it inside as he continued to lap at her cunt. “You taste so good, sweetheart...” he murmured, his voice muffled by her flesh.

He added a second finger to her ass, scissoring them apart slowly as he tongue fucked her pussy. Y/N's legs started to shake as the dual stimulation became too much. She gripped his hair tightly, her back arching off the bed as she let out a high pitched whine. "Ah!"

Y/N's fingers tightened painfully in Harry's hair, her knuckles turning pale as she tried to stay grounded while the pleasure consumed her. His tongue was spearing into her soaking wet hole over and over, curling up to rub against that spot inside her that made her see stars. And his fingers… god, those hands.

His fingers were stretching her asshole, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking deep into her tight heat. He scissored them further apart, popping her open wider as he fingered her ass. Y/N's legs shook violently, her whole body trembling as she felt herself on the verge of a massive orgasm.

"Harry...it's...too- please..." She babbled, unable to form a full sentence as he continued to stuff her holes. It had never been like this before, no one had even come close. He ignored her pleas, instead burying his face deeper and pumping his fingers faster. She felt so stuffed, so full, the pressure mounting inside her unbearably.

He felt her whole body stiffen, her pussy fluttering on his tongue as she cried out. She gushed against his mouth as she came, the feeling so intense and overwhelming that the waves of pleasure forced her to collapse against him.

Harry worked her through it as she trembled and whimpered with pleasure, his fingers still buried in her ass and his tongue still buried in her pussy. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that he'd reduced this beautiful young woman to a whimpering, shaking mess. It was not only an ego boost from what had been lacking for a while now, but he liked seeing how she reacted to him. He alone had done it.

Harry slowly lifted his head, wiping her from his face as he grinned wickedly at Y/N. "You taste even better when you're coming apart for me, sweetheart." He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with her. "And you’re tight everywhere, hm?”

Y/N stared at Harry, her eyes glazed over and pupils dilated from the intense high she was still riding down from. Her mouth was slightly parted, breath hitching as she watched him clean her off his hands. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, embarrassed yet turned on by his bold actions.

"H-Harry...that was...I've never...I mean...no one's ever..." She stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence even still.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying how flustered she was. "No one's ever played with your pretty little hole before?"

“No.” Her face felt hot as he grinned up at her. He seemed more than pleased and it made her feel good to know he was happy but still, she had the slight embarrassment that only came with the territory.

"Well, consider that box checked then." He said smugly, crawling back up her body to kiss her passionately. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, the musky flavor a testament to what he'd just done to her.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued to ravage her mouth. She mewled into the kiss, arching up against him as she felt his hard length pressing into her stomach. "Does my pretty girl want more?"

“Mhm.” She nipped his lip. “Want you inside of me.” Was she still sensitive from her orgasm? yes. But she had been desperate to get him inside of her since she’d first spoken to him. “Do you- are you clean?”

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her cheek. "I'm always clean, sweetheart. I get checked regularly and I'm very particular about who I share my dick with." He gave her wrists a gentle squeeze before releasing them, reaching over to his pants to his back pocket to grab his wallet.

“I-“ Her hand reached for his wrist. “I don’t wanna use one.” The words laid in the humid air for a moment. It was risky, sure, as any sort of unprotected anything was, but she didn’t want anything in between them. “I want t’feel you inside of me…”

He groaned at her words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Christ, doll. You're gonna be the death of me." Leaning down to kiss her again, his tongue traced over her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth. He took his time, savoring every inch of her. His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, causing her to shiver in anticipation. His hands made their way under her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin.

“Can I push in, baby?” He asked with a low tone, his lips tracing her collarbone. At her nod, he wasted little time. Poor thing hadn’t been fucked right before, and he would happily give her a proper experience. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance. With one slow thrust, he entered her fully, feeling the warmth and tightness of her around him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he buried the tip inside of her. “Fuck, thank you.”

He groaned as he pushed into her, feeling the way her body welcomed him. He paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust and letting himself feel the depth of her wet heat around him. His hands reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Being with a younger woman was different for him, but maybe it was just her- he realized as he moved inside of her. It was like being with a whole new sense of being, one who was full of energy and life. Everything about her was so fresh and vibrant, from her tight little pussy to her perfect tits and gorgeous face.

He continued to thrust into her, feeling the way her walls tightened around him. His hands moved down from her breasts, over her soft stomach and to her hips, exploring whenever he could.

His movements were slower, each thrust deliberate and measured. He wanted to savor the feel of her, the way her body yielded to his. He was drawn to watch her face, loving the way her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open as he filled her. "Look at me," he murmured. She opened her eyes, looking at him with a dazed expression. "Good girl, like t’see those pretty eyes." The man sighed, unable to resist praising her. He continued to thrust into her slowly, each movement filled with lust and desire.

“Fuck.” She kept her eyes on him as her hands ran over his hot shoulderbaldes, keeping that contact as he dipped all the way back home as deep as he could. Her mouth fell open and a high pitched noise left her throat without her permission, brows furrowed. “It’s never been that d-deep.”

He grinned at her, loving the way her inexperience made her react to him. "That's because no one's ever taken the time to stretch you out right." He leaned down to kiss her neck, his hips continuing to move in slow, deep thrusts.

“Where the fuck have you been, then?” She laughed breathlessly, letting her eyes fall back closed as he kept the thrusts slow and deep, relishing every inch he took. her body was lax and hot, his for the taking. Right now she felt like he could do anything and she would welcome it. “Are all older guys like this, or is it j-just you?”

He chuckled darkly against her neck, "There's a reason why women often prefer older men, doll- but M’gonna say for greeds sake, s’just me." He suckled at her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs and push them back farther, opening her up even more to his slow, deep thrusts.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth fell open and he welcomed it, sliding his tongue back inside her mouth and humming at the taste of her against him. The fact there was not a single barrier, albeit risky for the first time fucking, made it even hotter.

His movements became gentler, his hands caressing her skin instead of gripping it. "You like that?" he murmured against her lips, his hips rolling into hers instead of thrusting. "You like knowing that there's nothing between us?" He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a heated gaze. "I want you to look at me when I ask you something," he said, his voice low and commanding as he took her eyes. "Are you on any birth control?"

“Y-Yeah. Uh-huh.” Her eyes wide, she looked up at him hazily as she wrapped her legs further around his hips. “Don’t pull out when you cum. Please- I know m’crazy, but I need… need it.” Y/N knew she was insane for it, but their connection was so strong, every thrust inside of her, hitting places she didn’t know existed prior to this… she needed it.

His expression softened, a coo leaving his mouth as he nodded at her. How precious. "Alright, sweetheart. I promise I won't pull out." A dumb decision on his part too considering they’d just met but in the midst of it all, it was all he wanted to do. His hips began to move again, his pace quickening as he felt the heat of her around him. "You're going to take it all then, aren't you?"

“Yeah.” She mewled. From the sounds and feel alone she knew she was making a mess on his cock, but she had a feeling he was enjoying it every time he snuck a glance between them. “Take everything you give me, Daddy.” It was a risk, but she wanted to see what he’d do.

His face contorted with pleasure, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching. "Good girl…" he hissed, his voice low and gravelly. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her with more need, his movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to make me cum, doll."

“Cum.” She begged. “Cum in me. Then fuck it into me. Please.” Her nails dragged over his toned back as she clung to him, his bed creaking as he fucked into her welcoming, wet pussy.

He let out a primal grunt and slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick cum. He held himself inside her, his hips jerking as he pumped his load deep into her cunt. "Fuck, baby... I'm going to fucking fill you up."

But he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest.

With his cum still pouring into her, he reached under her and grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide apart. Observing the mess he made, he fixed his fingers on her clit as he fucked the cum into her just like she asked. “I gave you what you wanted, darling. Give me what I need too, mm?” His lips brushed her cheek, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. She just needed a little extra, and he was more than happy to provide.

Y/N squirmed slightly as she felt it creep up on her faster than she could anticipate. The pulse of his cock as it dribbled the last of his cum inside of her, the feel of his facial hair brushing her tender skin and his fingertips rubbing quick circles over her clit, it was impossible to keep from holding back. Heat boiled in her stomach as she tried to tell him, but it came on quicker than she could speak.

A broken moan left her lips as her body shook under him, eyes burning with tears of pleasure as he fucked her messy cunt and continued the circles until she pushed his hand away, grabbing his face and kissing him far more messily than she would have done in any other capacity- but this felt right. Fucked out and wobbly, melting into the bed as he slowly stopped the thrusts and stayed buried in her.

“Mm- baby. Sweetheart…” he pulled back to look at her. “You alright? Tell me how you’re feelin’.” He needed to check in on her, make sure she was feeling properly taken care of. Just by the look of it alone he had a feeling she felt that way, but he wanted to hear it from her pretty lips.

“I’m so good.” She grinned, drunk with the pleasure as she looked up at the handsome man. He was everything that she had dreamt about when she woke up sticky between her thighs. Aged like a fine wine.

“Can we go again?”

[kitkatscabinet]

UNDERCOVER LOVER

requested: by anon

pairing(s): dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, stephanie brown, x fem! reader

summary: fake dating for a mission

a/n: I did kind of deviate a little from the initial request but I hope you still enjoy, lemme know who y'all wanna see in part 2

warnings: 18+ nsfw themes, oral sex in steph’s part I blacked out and it just happened, mentions of human trafficking. minors evaporate. Unedited.

DICK GRAYSON

Your feet were killing you. They hadn't even been on your feet for two hours and yet the godforsaken heels Bruce had procured for you were already causing blisters.

You already owned heels, you argued, pairs that had been tried and tested and weren’t liable to leave you stumbling around like a newborn deer. Mentioning this had received an unimpressed look from the billionaire, who’d promptly declared that any shoes you owned ‘weren’t expensive enough’, and that you’d ‘be made instantly.’

In hindsight, he’d been correct, your $12 Kmart bad boys that had seen you through many a club crawl screamed poor, even so, he hadn’t needed to read you like that.

Fucking rich people.

"You could at least pretend you’re enjoying yourself, honey." Dick grinned, sliding his arm around your waist, the contact setting your traitorous heart aflutter.

Well, if that's how it was going to be, two could play at that game.

"How can I, when I’d much rather have you all to myself?" You pout, running your hands up his chest and playing with his silken tie, the colour a perfect match for your outfit.

Some of the more drunken men jeer and whistle at a blushing Dick, crass comments whispered to their companions without a care for subtlety. Pigs.

"Aw, don’t be like that doll, I'm sure you and I could have a lot of fun." A particularly brave, or stupid, man with slicked back hair that just made him look greasy winked. Or rather, he attempted to, his face instead twitching strangely as he blatantly stared at your chest.

'The only fun we'd have together involves me smashing your face in, you soggy old ball sack,' Is what you want to say. What you manage, after a warning squeeze against your hip from Dick, is a flustered giggle, "I don't think my fiance would appreciate that very much."

"Now, now, Buck, you should know better than to think a woman so stunning would give you the time of day," a honeyed voice interjected, low and smooth. It'd be attractive, soothing even, the sort of voice perfect for audiobooks, if it weren't for the fact the voice belonged to one of the biggest scumbags in Bludhaven.

Victor Stevenson, the current leader of one of the largest arms trafficking rings in Northern America.

Instantly, the chatter surrounding your little group died down, all eyes turning towards the owner of the opulent mansion they'd been fortunate enough to be invited into.

Buck flushes a deep red, but is evidently not suicidal enough to defend his pride against the top dog.

Victor gently takes your hand, leaning down to place a kiss against the back of your palm that you have to fight not to immediately wash off. You feel gross, slimy from even just that brief moment of contact, but you force yourself not to react outwardly.

Dick must feel the same as you, if the miniscule twitch of his left eyelid is anything to go by. To the untrained eye, Dick appeared jovial, but to you, who'd known him for so long, the cracks were obvious. His jaw muscles tenses for a few seconds, teeth clenching before you nudge him with your hip, forcing him to relax, and his gaze has never once left Victor's person.

Just like Victor's gaze has never left you. Your toes curl inside your stupidly expensive and uncomfortable heels, the vapid mask you'd donned for the night rapidly dissolving as you fight the urge to hurl, or punch that smirk right off the douchebag's face. Whichever happened first.

The scumbag snaps his fingers and a waiter appears from thin air, a silver tray in hand ready to take Victor's empty drink, seamlessly providing him with a new glass of $1000 Merlot.

You shoot Dick a glance from the corner of your eye but he's already moving, excusing himself from the conversation smoothly as he tails the server, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch the glass with an undoubtedly perfect set of prints.

Amateur. All those investments and no gloves.

Unfortunately for you, with your man no longer by your side, Victor becomes bolder with his advances and there's only so many coy denial's you can throw his way before you'll be forced to beat him off with a stick.

"Come on darling, I could rock your world."

"I couldn't, my fiance — "

"Would never know, my men could keep him occupied long enough for us to get... acquainted." He purrs, and this time, you do spew a little in your mouth.

Before you can turn him down, Dick does it for you, aggressively, by pulling you into the dirtiest kiss of your life. It’s like he’s trying to eat you, one of his hands slipping down to grab a handful of your ass as the other clutches your jaw, preventing you from escaping. Not that you’d even want to.

You’re so surprised that you don’t manage to stop the downright pornographic moan that slips past your lips, which only seems to encourage Dick.

By the time he pulls away you’re heaving to catch your breath, more than a little dazed as Dick pulls you into his arms like he’s manoeuvring a doll.

“Sorry, I don’t share what’s mine.” Dick’s grin is feral, and you have no time to react before his fist is reeling back and smashing into Victor's nose.

You screech, not because you're overly opposed to Dick's actions but because you're now firmly the number one target of the ridiculous amount of security guards.

“If we make it out of this I will fucking kill you.” You hiss.

“If we make it out of this I’ll get down on one knee for real. After more kissing though, definitely gonna do more of that.”

You suppose that’s an acceptable apology.

JASON TODD

The gin martini you'd been nursing for the past 15 minutes was nearly empty, your nails drumming absentmindedly against the glass as you plaster a look of boredom across your face.

You were on your seventh game of Blackjack in a row, a favourite of your target's, and you were nearly at your wit's end. Jason had bitched out around game four, planting an obnoxious kiss on your cheek before scuttling off to observe from afar.

Just when you were beginning to lose hope he would even appear, the man himself appeared, sliding into the seat next to you with a lecherous grin that set your teeth on edge.

Word through the grapevine was your target had a thing for married women, a real gentleman, and if the way he leers at the gaudy ring Jason had thrown at your head earlier, before blatantly staring down your dress is any indication, the rumours speak true.

Bile rises in your throat, but you force a genial, slightly flirty smile, as you let the man lean closer.

"You come here often, sugar?" He breathes into your face, a rancid mix of steak and cigarettes assaulting your nostrils.

"Maybe I should, if it means I'd get to see you." You giggle, biting your lip to appear flirtatious whilst simultaneously using the pain to ground yourself.

“You’re gonna make me lose my lunch.” Jason grumbles through your earpiece, while you mentally flip him the bird. You were the one suffering here.

He doesn’t even play a game, opting to watch you play for one quick round, flirting with you and touching enough to warrant several showers afterwords before he’s inviting you back to his room.

Every molecule in your being is rebelling, screaming with disgust, but you force yourself to put on your big girl panties, giggling as you take his sweaty hand.

For the mission, you repeat the mantra in your head, maybe if you repeat it enough you’ll black out and wake up after it the nightmare is over.

Only instead of leading you towards his room like you’d expected, like was planned for, the man starts leading you in the opposite direction, hand wrapped in a bruising grip around your wrist.

“You’re hurting me.” You try to wrench free, only to stumble when a furious 6 foot wall of muscle blocks his path.

Jason is furious, murder in his eyes and a terrifying look on his face despite the goofy moustache. “Watch it man.” Your target drunkenly sneers, too blasted to apparently recognise your supposed husband, or have any self preservation instincts.

“Excuse me? That’s my wife you’re manhandling.”

It’d be comical how quickly the scumbag pales, letting you go like he’d been burned and stammering apologies if it weren’t for how ridiculously turned on you suddenly were.

My wife. It shouldn't be as sexy at is for Jason to be so possessive over you, if it were anyone else you'd probably be disgusted, but with Jason you find your mind and your pussy at odds with each other.

"I swear, if I find a single... mark..." Jason trailed off, his rage turning apoplectic at the sight of a hand print shaped bruise already starting to form.

Between one blink and the next, Jason't laid him out, fists and jaw clenched. "You, alright—"

You throw your arms around him, one hand tugging at the curls on the back of his neck as you kiss him. It takes him a few seconds to respond, but eventually he kisses you back gently.

He clears his throat, voice wavering a little as his tongue darts out to lick his lower lip, "You don't have to keep up the act, you know?"

"Who said anything about acting?"

"Oh wait," you leaned down, rifling through the now unconscious man's pockets before you victoriously pull out his wallet. "Room service's on him."

"Lead the way darlin'," he murmured, still a little dazed, eyes glued to your ass.

Cute.

TIM DRAKE

You were furious. Four months you'd been ingratiating yourself into Strickland's inner circle, greasing elbows with some of the scummiest humans on Earth, pretending to be just like them.

Four months undercover just to be told Strickland wouldn't possibly do business with you because you were a woman. Four months of doing the disgusting hard yards in your efforts to bring down a human trafficking ring only for the entire thing to come to a screeching halt because you didn't have a husband.

Enter one Tim Drake, who unbeknownst to you, is practically frothing at the mouth for the opportunity to play your husband. Enough to put up with your foul temperament as you spend hours drilling your undercover story into Tim.

It's not his fault, you know that, but still, your irritation manages to seep through the cracks.

"If you fuck this up Drake I will cut off your balls and feed them to you." You threaten him right before you step through the doors, forcing yourself into character.

To his credit, Tim plays his part beautifully, a possessive hand constantly resting on your waist, arm or thigh, a cool, dispassionate look on his face as he disinterestedly scanned his surroundings.

You even end up perched on his lap, your arm wrapped around his shoulders to keep your balance, his dexterous fingers thrumming against your thigh in a way that makes your stomach flutter.

It's a little alarming how easily he dons the skin of a cold blooded trafficker, cracking crass jokes and shmoozing with the circle of human dirtbags you'd clawed your way into. Typical, what had taken you months to achieve, Tim did within minutes.

Figures the traffickers would be sexist.

For all your threats, lectures and plans its not Tim that ends up blowing your cover, but you.

At some point a child is carted out, malnourished, bruised and terrified beyond belief. It's like you black out, one second you're in Tim's lap, basking in his affection and the next you've snatched a gun from the closest grunt and have shot Samuel Kelley in the kneecap.

To his credit, Tim rolls with the change in plans, easily springing up and joining the fight at your side.

The next few minutes pass by in a blur of adrenaline, gunfire and sirens. It's over quickly, you and Tim are a well oiled machine and you're running on sheer fury.

Tim's the one by your side through it all, and Tim's the one tending to your bloodied and bruised knuckles hours later as you decompress.

"If you fuck this up Drake I will cut off your balls and feed them to you." He mocked, breaking the sullen silence and you lightly kick him in the shin.

"You know, when you asked me to pose as your husband I was hoping to at least get a kiss." He looks up at you through unfairly long lashes and you nearly malfunction.

"Hmm, well I'm still wearing the ring..." You whisper hoarsely, leaning in, leaving it up to Tim to close the distance.

He doesn't disappoint.

STEPHANIE BROWN

Truthfully speaking, the mission hadn't exactly required you to go undercover with Stephanie posed as lovers.

Hell, it’d probably have been more advantageous to pose as two separate entities entirely, but you were nothing if not an opportunist, and there was no way you were going to give up the chance to have Steph on your arm all evening.

She was gorgeous, lilac satin dress clinging to her skin enticingly, drawing gazes from lecherous old men that had you baring your teeth like an animal whilst mentally thanking god for the opportunity to hold her close.

She’s too gorgeous, drawing attention even as the two of you attempt to disappear to investigate your target’s private study. There’s guards everywhere, most of them male, and two pretty women don’t tend to go unnoticed even with your stealth training.

You’d been able to flirt and misdirect your way past several guards already, Steph’s once immaculate appearance now rumpled from the various kisses you’d pulled her into.

Regardless, it had been easy enough to get into the study and get Oracle into their personal laptop. But if you were being honest with yourself, the mission had been long forgotten.

The only thing on your mind was the feel of Steph’s kiss swollen lips against yours, the soft surprised noises she’d made before practically melting in your arms.

Her skin’s slightly flushed and she keeps sending you quick glances from the corner of her eye, attempting not to be obvious. Cute, but you noticed everything about Stephanie, especially the way her thighs seemed to be clenching together when her gaze darted quickly to you before returning to a nondescript corner of the room.

Footsteps sound down the hall and you don’t even blink, pushing Steph back into the plush chair before dropping to your knees reverently.

“For the mission.” You whisper coyly with a hungry stare, before you throw her thigh over your shoulder and duck your head under your dress.

She makes an aborted sound somewhere between a protest and a gasp but then your lips are pressing kisses up the inside of her thigh and she throws her head back with a whimper.

More importantly she doesn’t stop you, her hips grinding forward as if to encourage you toward your destination.

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t, but you’re not sure when or if you’ll ever get the opportunity again and she’s right there. You’re so close you can smell her.

Her manicured hand grips the back of your head blindly and it’s all the invitation you need to pull her damp panties aside and lick through her folds before you settle your attention on her clit.

She moans loudly, heel digging harshly enough into your back to bruise just as the office door swings open.

“… ladies.” A voice coughs out, awkwardly motioning you to exit. “I do believe the office is off limits, perhaps I could lead you to a bedroom?”

Stephanie looks mortified, but you grin salaciously, licking your lips as you entwine your fingers with hers. “Lead the way, good sir.”

[deusfoundry]

yes this is, in fact, set in the same universe as popstar!reader and actor!sylus

it's a well known fact in the industry that veteran actress!reader is in a loving relationship and has been for the last decade.

except ... no one really knows who he is?

he's all over your mostly empty instagram account though, so they know he exists. through a picture of the bouquet he had delivered to your set with the greeting card folded and slipped between the flowers so only you can see his little message and the name he signed it with. through a video of you on a night out in paris where the low timbre of his voice can be heard when he calls out your name, holding his hand out as he tells you to be careful or you'll trip over your own heels.

and, perhaps most famously, through a picture of the food you ordered for a date where his hand sits on the side of the table, close enough to the plates that part of his forearm is visible. his long fingers and neatly trimmed nails, decorated with a gleaming, minimalistic silver band where an engagement ring would be. the watch adorning his wrist, no doubt expensive considering it was a gift from you, and the veins protruding down the length of his arm.

it was enough to drive people insane. enough to send them on a witch hunt trying to figure who this mystery man is.

but sadly, they come up empty-handed.

you don't exactly make it any easier for them too, with how well you dodge questions that would reveal his identity. they have no idea what he looks like, what he does for a living. all they know about him is his initial, if the Z pendant you refuse to take off your neck is anything to go by.

a/n: THANK U SM GILL FOR INDULGING MY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS MWAH ILYY @nezuswritingdesk

divider by @cafekitsune

taglist: @ladyparamount @sahxrii @leighsartworks216 @bigclownshoes @solifloris

[angrythingstarlight]

The way I picture mafia Bucky getting a tattoo with his girls initials on his left ring finger under his wedding band 💍 🥵

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader

A/N: First mafia Monday drabble of 2024. Unbeta'd and written on my phone. Part of the bumblebee series.

"Are you sure about this? That's going to be a bitch to cover up," Steve warns, arms folded across his chest.

Bucky doesn't share the reservations his best friend has. Perhaps he should be offended but Bucky knows that Steve hasn't been in love. One day he's going to meet someone that turns him inside out the way you have. He can't wait to deliver that I told you so on a silver platter.

"I'm sure." A smirk slides across Bucky's lips and he gestures for Natasha to continue. He'd get your name tattooed across his throat in your handwriting if you'd let him. Bucky's never felt the urge to be claimed by anyone until you. He wants the world to know he belongs to you. It's an unfamiliar feeling, being in love like this. You're wrapped around his heart and made it so that it only beats for you.

As the low, steady thrum of the tattoo gun fills the studio, Bucky loosens his tie with his free hand and flicks open the first couple of buttons on his shirt. He pushes the shirt over his shoulder. "Besides this isn't the first tattoo I've gotten for my girl."

Steve's gaze narrows on the intricate cross surrounded by the open pocket watch and church dome inked into his chest. It's nearly imperceptible—parts of the ink appear fresher, darker than the rest. Then he sees it like the last piece of a puzzle being slid into place. Your name in—his head tilts contemplatively—five different languages woven within the detailed design. He has to admit it's impressive, The font is delicate and small, enough so that the average person wouldn't see it.

You have though. Up close and personal. Memorized each one as you sat on his lap, your legs around his waist, tracing each letter with your fingertips. The night he decided it was fully healed, he celebrated by taking you softly and sweetly and so slow it almost drove you insane. He made sure that night was embedded in your memory . The warm, smooth glide of his chest against your breasts. His hand around your wrists pinning your arms above your head. His soft lips never leaving yours even as your cries grew breathier and more drawn out.

"Guess you're serious about her huh." Steve remarks, snapping Bucky out of his musings. "You know what you're doing?"

Silence falls in the room after Natasha finishes the final initial. Bucky holds up his hand, admiring her handiwork as he makes an amused, nearly sardonic sound in his throat.

"Y'know sometimes I have no idea what I'm doing with this girl." His voice is quiet, and thoughtful in a way Steve has never heard before. "I do know that I'm going to spend the rest of my life with her and I know for certain I'm going to put my ring on her finger."