#of what he had been and was no more fueling him moved me to the bones and I didn't even know he was All That in canon

[nebulaeternal]

「 ✦ Play by Play - Pt.2 ✦ 」

―୨୧⋆ ˚GENRE/WARNING: f!xm, porn w/little plot, guided masturbation, edging, teasing, evol use, size kink, overstimulation, implied marathon sex, spitting in mouth, praise kink, dirty talk, pussy play, vulgar Caleb, absolute brainrot.

―୨୧⋆ ˚SUMMARY: Caleb has you sprawled out below him, voice low and teasing in your ear as the tension builds even further. Find out what happens when it finally snaps.

―୨୧⋆ ˚WORD COUNT: 2.4K

―୨୧⋆ ˚A/N: Sorry y'all but I'm going to have to continue with ANOTHER part. There's just so much and it's a lot easier to write the whole story in multiple parts. I hope you enjoy this one tho, let me now what you think! If you wanna sign up to be tagged, the link is right below :3

―୨୧⋆ ˚LINKS: AO3 Ver. , Twitter, Taglist Sign-up

―୨୧⋆ ˚TAGLIST: @noone-png, @kicupo, @rafayelsplush, @imissnanami, @zanasoledad, @m00njinnie, @rafayelschewtoy

“You love being called princess, don’t you? Princess.”

A whine escaped your lips, desperation growing with each passing second. “Don’t tease me..” you trailed off. Caleb smirked into your neck, nipping at it, causing you to let out a suppressed moan. He rose to meet your eyes, face close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin.

You were unsure whether to look away or match his intensity. His gaze on you was hot, it seared your skin like the sun. You had completely forgotten what position you were in till you felt his hard-on pressed right against your core.

It was difficult to ignore, and quite frankly not something you wanted to do anyway. His hands trailed from your thighs to your waist, thumbs resting right below your stomach and he pressed down firmly. Sparks shot to your core as you let out a moan and arched your back.

“There you go. That’s what I like to hear.” He growled lowly. Writhing in his hold, your desperation was now tangible, and you wanted him inside you, badly. One of your legs was hung on his shoulder, his lips meeting the flesh of your calf in a tender kiss.

“Caleb, please I can’t wait any longer.” You ground against his bulge, a sharp grunt came from the man at the unexpected gesture. Involuntary, his hips bucked into yours, both of you sighing in symphony.

He doesn’t know what took over him but he began to roll his hips against yours, slowly. With a satisfied sigh, you threw your head back, feeling the clothed tip flick against your clit when his crotch slid against yours perfectly.

“Hng—Baby..” he couldn’t stop himself, despite needing to be inside you. The feeling of your bare cunt against his restrained cock nearly drove him mad as his hips continued the motion.

“Oh god. Yes~” Your sighs were music to his ears, the energy fueling him to keep going. The rigid fabric created the perfect friction you craved. Clutching the sheets, your hips moved against his own.

The room was hot. A symphony of your moans, his grunts, and fabric shuffling filled the air. You felt that familiar coil in the pit of your stomach as your moans increased in pitch. “I’m-Caleb..” 

He could tell you were close, and like the sick bastard he was he stopped. Your head whipped up, annoyance and desperation written on your face clear as day. He watched your reaction and chuckled, his grip on your hips loosening slightly.

“Caleb, what the fuck?” You let out an exasperated grumble. He only continued to laugh, mocking you “I’ve been trying to get off all day, why would you do that?!” Your exclamation only made his laughter increase, in turn making you more upset as your face burned hot. Not entirely registering what he was doing, you continued your ramble as he placed the most gentle of kisses along your leg, up your thigh, and finally your mound. A gasp slipped from your lips.

Before you could say another word, Caleb’s tongue flicked out, tasting you. A moan was drawn from your mouth, hands grasping his hair desperately as the warm muscle invaded your walls.

“Mmph! Hah..” the desperation and satisfaction in your whines and whimpers spurred Caleb on, his tongue aggressively assaulted your clit. His lips suctioned around you, causing you to buck and arch.

“Caleb!” He caught you by surprise, sucking and flicking the sensitive bud as you wriggled in his hold. It was almost too much, unsure whether you wanted him to stop or keep going. “Haaa fuck—“ 

Your wanton moans fill the air, the slurping and sucking accompanying Caleb’s mouth, all making your head spin. 

The grip on his hair got tighter as you shoved him further into your dripping cunt. “Caleb please~” you begged him. You were so close, not wanting to be denied, you begged him hard. The word “please” fell from your lips like a mantra, feeling that coil in your stomach ready to become undone.

He pulled away with a pop. “Wanna cum, princess?” His words reverberated against your sensitive flesh. You bit your lip, nodding eagerly as his tongue laved over your bundle of nerves. 

“Yes—please, please let me cum.” You sobbed, eyes pricking with tears once more, threatening to spill. “Please~” you whined, attempting to shove his head closer to your core if that was even possible.

Your walls began to convulse as your hips bucked wilder. Caleb held you down firmly and worked you thoroughly, finally letting you hit your climax. His name spilled from your lips while he helped you ride it out.

Even after you had finished, you still felt his tongue drawing lazy circles on your cunt, scrounging for remnants of your release to savor with his tongue. “S-Stop it’s too mu-mmph!” his lips wrapped firmly around you. Giving one final suck before pulling away.

He looked up at you like a hungry animal, pupils were blown out, staring at you almost like he was ready to dive back in, but he stopped himself, for you of course. Rising back up, you could see your slick glistening on his nose, chin, and lips. 

“Fuck...” You exhaled, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Without skipping a beat, Caleb captured your lips in his own, teeth and tongue clashing in a passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, only making your body grow hotter. You both pulled away, panting with flushed faces as you stared into each other’s eyes. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that..” He murmured onto your lips while his fingers wrapped gently around your thigh, pulling you flush against his crotch once more. Involuntarily you bucked into it, earning a groan from him. He truly was trying to do the gentlemanly thing and not fuck your brains out but you were making it so hard for him to resist that temptation. His hips rocked against yours, clothed bulge pressed against your cunt, staining the thin fabric concealing his raging boner, preventing you from feeling him fully.

Once more, you both found yourself grinding against each other like animals in heat, almost scared to rid of the barrier between you both.

Another climax was already en route, still very sensitive from the previous orgasm. “Almost-“ Then he stopped. Again. 

“Caleb, I swear to fucking—I will walk away right now if you do this again. Fuck yo—“The tip of his cock was pressed right against your clit. A gasp slipped from your lips.

He was big. Could it even fit inside you?? 

“I’m trying, princess.” You hadn’t realized it but while you were busy pouting and fussing, Caleb slipped himself from his boxers, a stupid grin plastered on his face because he couldn’t believe he could have you, finally.

“It’s so big—“ he smirked, feeling proud. “I don’t think it’ll fit.” You said exasperated. You could see the smirk on his face droop slightly, faint worry laced in his expression.

The last thing he would ever wanna do is hurt you.

“Do you really want this..? Want me?” He sounded almost pathetic with how he was whispering against your lips, the question carrying a pleading undertone. His breath was warm and fanned against your skin. The tip of his cock pushing insistently against your clit while he waited for your answer.

You felt a little less nervous about the sheer size of his cock. You grabbed the sides of his face, pulling him in for another kiss. “If I didn’t-“ kiss “I wouldn’t-“ kiss “be here. Now stop talking so much and put yourself to use.” 

That was all he needed to hear. If there was one thing Caleb loved to do it was tease, which I’m sure you’ve picked up on by now. He rubbed his length up and down your quivering slit, studying your reactions intently as his lips quirked up slightly.

He loved seeing the way your mouth fell open, bliss completely enveloping your body and senses. “Caleb, please, you’ve teased enough.”

“Beg.” You couldn’t believe your ears. He could not be serious. 

“You’re joking..” to which he tilted his head at you silently. You let out a whine nearly crying with his prolonged silence only caving because you desperately need him inside you. Setting aside what little pride you had left, a string of pathetic pleas left your mouth.

“Pleasepleaseplease, I nee—hng~” he slid the tip of his cock into you slowly. Watching you closely for any signs of discomfort. You were squeezing him like a vice, it nearly choked the air out of his lungs.

“Nnggh..Baby..relax—you’re so tight..” your toes were curling, his cock felt like it was splitting you open. Your nails dug crescent shapes into his skin as he sunk into your walls slowly while you bit your lip to brace yourself.

“Too big—“ you choked out, thumb frantically tapping his arm, to which he stopped his advances. Caleb was about halfway in, straining and doing his best not to fuck up into you.

He brought his lips to your forehead, planting a gentle kiss as he stroked your skin. “I’m sorry baby, it’ll be over soon.” The sensation of his lips fluttering along your face helped you soon forget about the numbing sensation on your lower half.

Testing your comfort, you gave him a squeeze, his hips twitched in restraint as he threw his head forward, hair tickling your nose. Nothing but groans and heavy, shaky breaths left his body, arms braced at the sides of your head.

“Ok..you can continue.” You murmured. Caleb continued slowly pushing his way inside you, fighting against your tight walls before finally bottoming out.

You felt full. You nearly couldn’t breathe. You could feel him twitch inside you, sweat pricking his skin as you both adjusted to the position. After some moments of exchanged groans and sighs, slowly but carefully, he pulled out.

“Oh my god…” you gasped, thinking it couldn’t get any more intense till he slid back inside. “Oh fuck—Caleb…” he let out a sigh of satisfaction, feeling your walls hug his cock with each thrust of his hips.

He continued this slow pace, lips finding yours as he swallowed up every sound that spilled from your mouth.  His fingers slid along your palm and tangled in yours. 

Caleb loved you. He wanted to cherish this moment before his last shred of sanity was squeezed away by your tight walls. So he made love to you. It was a slow, sensual tango of bodies, the steady rhythm of his hips forcing cries from your lips.

His eyes bore into yours, feeling yourself get consumed by him. “You’re so beautiful princess..” he whispered above your lips, eyes full of affection and adoration. 

You could only sigh in response, eyes screwing shut and head thrown back as he found a particular spot inside you. With your throat now exposed, Caleb planted kisses along the column of your neck while his hips moved in tangent.

“Caleb~” Something in him snapped with the way you moaned his name. He’s shown his tender side, now you were in for so much more. He gripped your thighs, hooking them over his shoulder, he stared at your wandering eyes, drinking in the sight of the last few seconds of serenity that would cross your face while he was inside you.

His hips snapped forward, slamming himself deep inside you. The action caught you very off guard as it choked a moan from you. Giving you absolutely no time to speak, he pulled out almost entirely before slamming his hips back, knocking the wind from your lungs.

Your attempts to call out his name were drowned out by the sound of your own moans. The intensity and vigor with which he fucked you was beyond anything you could imagine.

He was practically splitting you open as he bullied his way into your cunt, tip kissing your cervix while you babbled. He gathered your wrists in one hand, raising them above your head before pinning them there with his evol.

You were trapped. His hands slid along your body before reaching your breasts. With his rough padded fingers, he grasped a nipple between his fingers, pinching and rolling it like a toy.

A yelp escaped your lips, the sensation of it all making your head spin. He continued to play with your nipples, making sure to give both equal attention while he stuffed you full of his cock.

Hooking his hands under your knees, he pressed your legs against your chest, folding you nearly in half “HNGG! CA-“ he pulled out, driving deep into you once more, the sound of skin slapping skin was prominent with each thrust.

Your eyes rolled back, feeling how deep he was hitting. Tears pricked your eyes, the sensation causing that knot to form in the pit of your stomach. Spit trickled from the corner of your mouth, moans spilling endlessly while he drove his cock into you. Any sense of coherence left in your body was gone. He watched your mind go blank while you attempted to beg him. The only thing on your mind was his name and his cock. “Open.” his words didn’t register in your mind. Gripping your face firmly, he tilted your head till you looked him in the eyes. You were such a beautiful mess for him. Eyes glimmering, face flushed, lips swollen and caught between your teeth. “H-Huh..?” “Open.” His thumb forced its way past your lips, hooking on your teeth and prying your mouth open. He spit in your mouth. “Now swallow.” You did as you were told and swallowed what he gave you, sticking your tongue out to show him. “Good fucking girl.” his hips slammed harshly against yours. You were such a dirty broken mess for him and he loved it. Feeling your climax draw closer, you could feel yourself nearly forcing yourself away from him. But he only drew you closer, pushing your legs impossibly closer to your chest. “Take it.” The look in his eyes was almost sinister, dog tag hitting his skin aggressively with each thrust. You felt yourself unraveling, the coil in your stomach snapping as you came hard. “There you go~” He cooed watching you break beneath him. “Mmmgh..” you were no longer capable of using words. His pace didn’t let up as you shattered, fucking you through your orgasm. That creamy white ring formed around the base of his cock while he fucked you. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

「 ✦ Part 3. Coming Soon! ✦ 」

[takes1]

playing with asahi azumane's hair

ahhh an original for a change woo! hope this finds the right crowd

warnings. sfw :0 minors still DNI

details. afab!reader / fluff / sprinkling of suggestiveness / crushing on asahi / validated crush / platonic?touch / mutual!crush / sweet!asahi / sensitive!asahi / love language: physical touch / sleepy, feel-good fic / 1.4k words

links. masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests OPEN.

Asahi's shoulder had been rubbing on your calf for three hours now. It was warm, pleasant, but not indicative of a damn thing.

You craved more.

The only evidence you had, equally falsifiable as it was, was the fact that he had not moved away from you.

You gave a disinterested sigh at the colorful, flashing TV. Smash Bros was fun for the first hour, but you soon gave your controller to Nishinoya and had no stake in the fight.

You glanced down at Asahi's handsome face for the umpteenth time tonight.

He held a soft frown, his brow naturally heavy and set like he was frustrated at whatever he focused on. Asahi didn't play much. He liked to watch, and gave some commentary, but you figured out that he must have simply enjoyed the inclusion, the company, of a close sleepover such as this one.

When he reached across the floor in front of you to grab another sour gummy worm from its bag, you forced a fake interest in the screen again. He lingered a moment or two too long. Then, he found what he was looking for and sat back upright, chewing on it, color by color instead of all-in-one.

Your fists tightened. Morbid curiosity, mixed with a bit of sleep deprivation, and compounded boredom, fueled a stormy, boundary-crossing question.

It was a mutter, but anyone not paying 100% attention to the game could probably hear you, "Could I play with your hair?"

As soon as the last syllable left your lips, you grew hot with regret.

That was the kind of question that could make things too weird, too quick, and things might never be the same. You could spare that embarrassment with just about anyone else in this room, but not him.

It was innocent, but didn't sound like it; not out loud. You just wanted to touch him. That sounded awful, but the feeling was so strong and pure, you couldn't fully believe that it was as wrong as its near-guaranteed perception.

Asahi raised his brows, honey-brown eyes made intentionally softer for you.

He returned your exact volume, "Sure!"

Your expression remained still, a little wide-eyed, still polite, as you digested his too-easy yes.

Suga gave you an ultra-soft nudge, your queue, in a way, to come back to the land of the living. You glanced to him, unable to hide your shock, and he chuckled at you.

"-Haven't brushed it in a few hours--," Asahi was pulling his hair out of the clip he had it confined in.

It all cascaded down his shoulders in a dark, rich, shade of brown. His fingers racked through it, close to the scalp, a few times, with a little shake. His curls came loose and you couldn't see his face as he leaned, settling onto the carpet in front of you.

"Let me know if there's too many tangles. I can get those- uh--,"

You both realized your knees were not a comfortable surface to lean back on.

In an awkward, shaky adjustment, you spread your knees apart to make room for his shoulders on the back of the couch, closer to you. He took the liberty of grabbing your ankles and placing your legs in front of him.

Your body was frozen, unsure of what to do, with the sensation of his warm, warm body on your legs- his hands easily wrapped around your ankles. You could feel his bulky, muscular shoulders on the back of your thighs and had to collect yourself for a few moments.

His hair was so soft. It slipped through your fingers like water.

Coconut oil. You caught a whiff of it and almost melted. You desperately hoped he couldn't sense the tremble in your fingers.

Every twitch, every movement, you made mental note of.

It took minutes to get adjusted to the act of being this close to him, without overanalyzing every breath. He kept the bag of gummy worms in his lap, and ate more frequently now that he didn't have to try as hard to get to them.

But you couldn't stay so nervous forever.

Fatigue, if anything, overcame your anxiety and helped you slowly relax. You paid half-attention to the screen, half to the braids you began, brushed out with your fingers, then restarted with muscle memory.

You would take your time parting his hair at the scalp, using your nails to better separate the sections, and go about the process from side to side, then back again.

"Looks like somebody's falling asleep," Suga mumbled.

As sleepy as you felt, you automatically thought was that he was talking about you.

When you turned to look at him, confused, you noticed he was instead looking at your lap. A feint smile, amused, but charmed, on across his own tired face.

Curious, you craned to look down at Asahi-- his eyes were rolling back into the sockets, his whole face completely relaxed. It was downright adorable.

You slowly brushed out the braid and just used your nails to give him head scratches, instead.

"Mm-h," Was his short, quiet groan.

Now you could feel the full weight of his body adjust, twitching, as he woke up and started to fall back asleep again.

His deep sigh lifted your thighs along with the height of his shoulders. He leaned his head back onto your hands, then crossed his arms, trapping your ankles with a small shimmy.

From here, you realized his skull was kind of big. It was proportional to his body, but it felt like he was spreading your inner thighs further than you fantasized he might.

The way he craned his head back made it almost impossible to get to his hair. You were looking straight down at his twitchy, sleeping face.

Your fingers needed something to do. They flitted over his skin in a natural reaction.

He sighed through his nose, relaxed again, fully into you.

Your heart fluttered at the seemingly unconscious action. You were careful not to scratch him as you began tracing over all his chiseled features.

His crooked nose bridge, up to his forehead, through his thick eyebrows. You dipped your knuckles down his cheeks and discovered exactly how much you liked his facial hair.

He shaved more of his face than you thought. His 5 o'clock shadow was rough, and textured, along his jaw.

The other guys were starting to head to bed.

Some looked satisfied in their bundled up blankets, laying on the floor where they had fallen asleep a while ago watching the first-years and their endless energy. They, at least, continued to play into the small hours of the night.

Your desire to keep him here was getting blurred with your need to get some rest, too.

You took as much as enjoyment as you could waking him, using the kindest voice you could, lightly scratching his scalp again.

"Mm-!" He woke with a mumble and a quiet gasp.

His stubble scratched against your inner thigh as his head jerked properly upright. As much as you felt the scratch of his jaw, he felt the soft, smooth flesh of your leg and loved it, too.

Immediately, he realized his position and his rough hands slid back over your calves, calculating how much he actually needed to move.

You caught his hesitation for what it was, for once.

Your small, excited, smile remained audible as you told him, "We're going to sleep now."

Asahi nodded, but didn't move. Not right away, at least.

"Mmkay," He grumbled, and twisted to lean hard against your right leg. He clutched it tighter and smushed the side of his face into your supple skin.

The way his small movement shifted your balance kept your fists tight, your lip bitten, and your heartbeat strong throughout your whole body.

You whispered, giddy, "Asahi-!"

"(Y/n)," He muttered, in a very weak attempt to return your inflection.

Your hand placement was second, triple, then quadruple-guessed before you decided to place it on his chest, doubled over to better speak to him.

"I'm serious, I need to get up."

From here, you were nearly eye-level. He glanced at you. Needy, still.

His gaze was low, steady, and fuzzy in intention.

It sent a shiver down your spine.

After a moment, he yielded with another tired sigh and rubbed a firm squeeze into your shin. And even though you were released, you remained to return his kindness with another stroke through his hair.

From the side, you could see how his jaw tightened at the motion. It needed to stop there.

You prayed he wouldn't forget about this when the morning came around.

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco @screamin-abt-haikyuu

links.

my masterlist. requests open.

[zuzu-tries-to-write]

Katsuki Bakugo X Reader

Summary: Bakugo has spent years bullying you, masking his true feelings behind insults and harsh words. But when he finds out you’re dating someone else, something inside him snaps. Fueled by jealousy and frustration, he finally confesses—his way. With heated words, desperate kisses, and a possessiveness he can’t control, he makes it clear: you were always his. And now, he’s never letting you go.

(This one bakugo is a bit possessive but please don’t mind that)

Bakugo had always been a problem in your life. Since the first year at U.A., he had made it his mission to push your buttons, belittle your victories, and scoff at your every move.

At first, you thought it was just his personality. He was an ass to everyone. But as time went on, you noticed things—how he only seemed to get truly pissed when you outshined him in training, how he always had a comment about your friends, how his teasing was relentless when it came to you.

You had no idea why he was like that, and frankly, you had stopped caring.

Which was why, when Daiki—one of the second-year students from another class—asked you out, you said yes. He was sweet, kind, and most importantly, nothing like Bakugo.

The moment Bakugo found out, everything changed.

You weren’t expecting the confrontation to happen so soon.

It had only been a few days since you started dating Daiki, and already, your phone was full of texts from Ashido and Kaminari.

Ashido: Girl, I just saw Bakugo nearly murder a training dummy. WTF did you do to him?

Kaminari: Bro’s been pacing like a damn tiger in the lounge. He’s gonna explode.

You ignored the texts. It wasn’t your problem. If Bakugo was being a moody asshole, what else was new?

But you weren’t expecting him to grab you right outside the training hall and shove you against the wall, his arms caging you in before you could react.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His voice was low, dangerous.

You blinked up at him, shoving at his chest, but he didn’t budge. “Excuse me?”

He scowled. “Don’t play dumb. You and that extra.”

Your stomach twisted. “Daiki?” You narrowed your eyes. “That’s what this is about?”

He let out a harsh scoff. “Of course it’s about that. The hell are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking I finally found someone who isn’t an asshole to me,” you shot back, frustration bubbling up. “Not that it’s any of your damn business.”

His jaw clenched. “Like hell it isn’t.”

“Why do you even care, Bakugo?” You pushed harder against his chest, but he still didn’t move. His whole body was tense, his crimson eyes blazing. “You’ve spent years making my life miserable, so why the hell does it matter to you who I date?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, his fists clenching at his sides. “Because it should be me, damn it!”

The words hit you like a shockwave.

Your lips parted, but nothing came out.

His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling like he was barely holding himself together. “You think I just fuck with you for fun?” His voice was lower now, rougher. “You think I spent all this time chasing after you just to piss you off?”

Your heart was pounding. “What—”

“I didn’t know how to fucking say it,” he snapped, his hands slamming against the wall on either side of you. “I didn’t know how to—fuck—I didn’t know how to deal with you!”

You stared at him, stunned.

“You make me insane, okay?” His voice was raw, like the words were being ripped straight from his chest. “Every time I see you, every time you smile at those idiots, every time some loser gets too close to you, I wanna—” He exhaled sharply, his forehead dropping against yours. “I wanna fucking destroy them.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“I don’t want anyone else touching you.” His voice was barely above a whisper now, but it was so much more intense. “I should be the one with you. Not him. Me.”

Silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

Then, before you could stop yourself, you grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him down into a kiss.

It was desperate, messy, needy. The second your lips met his, Bakugo let out a low, guttural sound, his hands flying to your waist as he slammed you back against the wall. His grip was firm, possessive, his fingers digging into your skin as his mouth devoured yours.

You barely had time to process before his tongue slid past your lips, claiming you completely. Your head spun as he kissed you harder, deeper, like he was trying to burn himself into you.

One of his hands slid up your side, gripping your jaw as he tilted your head back, giving himself more access. You moaned against his mouth, and he growled, pressing his body even closer to yours.

“Mine,” he muttered against your lips, biting down gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. “Say it.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him back in for another bruising kiss. “Yours,” you whispered breathlessly. “Only yours.”

His grip on you tightened, his breath hot against your skin. “Damn right,” he growled, before kissing you again, harder, deeper, like he never planned on letting go.

Bakugo’s breathing was ragged as he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his grip on your waist still firm like he was afraid you’d disappear. His crimson eyes bore into yours, intense and unyielding.

“You’re not going back to him,” he said, voice hoarse but certain. “I won’t fucking let you.”

Your chest was rising and falling just as fast as his, your lips still tingling from the heat of his kisses. And the worst part? You didn’t want to go back.

You swallowed, your fingers still curled into his shirt. “Then what happens now?”

Bakugo let out a sharp exhale, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them like an anchor. “You’re mine,” he repeated, like he needed to hear it again. “And I’m gonna make damn sure you never doubt it again.”

His lips found yours once more—slower this time, but just as deep, just as needy. His hands moved over your body, memorizing every inch, every curve, like he was staking his claim. You melted into him, fingers threading through his hair as he pressed you back against the wall, letting his kiss say everything his words couldn’t.

When he finally pulled away, his smirk was cocky, but his eyes were softer—warmer.

“You should’ve known, dumbass,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips. “You were always mine.”

And this time, you didn’t argue…

[benz12313]

Surface Tension - Ridoc x OC!Doll

|Images are not mine|

Description: Despite wanting to be anywhere but the rider's quadrant, Daisy Jenkins loves her family, and so begrudgingly, she volunteers herself to go and throw herself to the mercy of dragons. She struggles with her confidence, but will a certain man with a penchant for mischief and a flirtatious attitude show her that she doesn't have to hide? That she too has a voice that can and should be heard? Will she be bold enough to claim him as her own? Or will she let him slip through her fingers, forever just out of reach? {Slow Burn/Mated Dragons/Friends to Lovers}

Warnings: violence, death, swearing

Next Chapter

Chapter One - Encountering Death

“Daisy Jenkins.” I tell the scribe taking names, silently cursing myself for the shakiness in my tone. To be fair I didn’t want to be here to begin with, but coming from a line of riders just famous enough to have a reputation to uphold, I’d had no other choice without dishonoring my family. Especially as an only child. It didn’t matter that I’d rather have been a healer, I’d been training for this since I’d turned six under the instruction of my parents and their closest friends. 

“Jenkins? As in Mikael and Raya Jenkins?” I nodded and the roll keeper smiled gesturing to the line of potential cadets waiting to go up the tower. “Good luck, I’m sure we can expect you to be a great rider.” 

“Thank you sir!” I said, nodding my head in acknowledgment before I made my way to the line, taking my place behind a mouse of a girl who had to be just below five feet tall and had little to no muscle, who was nervously twisting her hands and eyes darting around to anyone who’d gotten remotely close to her. She met my eyes for a moment, but before I could even shoot her a friendly smile her eyes widened in terror before darting away again, and I sighed. 

“Allies, no friends. Friends don’t exist among riders, at least not until after graduation. Death is far too common to be making friends among cadets.” My father's words rang in my head as I stared at the back of the girls head as we inched forward. She had long brown hair, that unlike my own amber-brown waves, wasn’t pinned in a braided crown atop her head. No, hers flowed freely, and I couldn’t help but frown. She wasn’t going to make it across the parapet. Between her shaking, her hair, and her severe lack of size, she had no chance. 

Not that I was much taller, but I still had more than thirty pounds of muscle and a couple inches on the girl. Not to mention the hundreds of hours of winter training across practice boards outside my parents home nestled in the mountains I’d undergone. If I fell off today, I’d just be an embarrassment. 

“Damn! This line moves so slow!” A playful male voice rang out behind me and I turned, heart launching into my throat as I schooled my features, fighting off my reaction to gape at the man. Standing behind me was a man that had fallen out of every wet dream and spicy fantasy I’d ever had. Brown, curly yet unruly locks that he ran his long fingers through, trying to get them out of his shining dark-brown eyes that were dancing with mirth. Sun-kissed skin, and tall, though admittedly not the tallest around (there’s an obscene amount of giants in this quadrant just from looking at this years applicants). He had to be close to six foot, and still towered over my five foot two self. He was lean, but I could see where muscle was beginning to form, and I could only imagine what a few years in this place would do to him. He winked at me, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he looked me up and down in a matter of a second, before a mischievous glint settled in his eyes. “What’s your name Doll?” 

“D-Daisy Jenkins.” I silently cursed myself for stuttering but he didn’t seem to mind, in fact it seemed to fuel something within him, and he just grinned wider. 

“Such a pretty name for a pretty girl.” He said, voice just a hair deeper than his first sentence and I hastily turned forwards, hiding the immediate blush heating my cheeks, neck, and ears. “Aww, don’t be shy!” He poked my side, and I squeaked in shock, jumping slightly and causing him to chortle with laughter that made my chest squeeze. I shot him back a glare with no heat as we entered the tower and I looked up the seemingly endless stairs with no protective railing. No doubt a ploy to weed out the pathetically weak. I gulped, hoping I didn’t fall into that category. 

“What’s your name?” I called over my shoulder to try and distract myself from the fear starting to lodge itself in my gut as we began the ascent. 

“Ridoc Gamlyn.” He said, male pride dripping off his words and I rolled my eyes, but found myself smiling softly anyway. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a quadrant like this?”

I snorted, ignoring how my cheeks flared despite the ridiculous attempt at a pickup line. “Rider parents and family lineage. Reputation to uphold and all.” I waved my hand in a dismissive way and he chuckled lowly. “You?”

“Can you imagine me in the infantry? This handsome face? Nah, too straight laced for my taste. Besides-“ He paused and then suddenly I felt his warmth next to my ear. “All the glory is with the riders. And I want a dragon of my own.” His voice was downright dripping with sex appeal, his tone low and breath fanning across my neck. I shivered and he let out another low chuckle before he backed out of my space again. “Hmm, you’re too cute for this place, you know that?” 

“You don’t even know me.” I shot back, even though it was mostly bluster, “How do you know where I should be?” He laughed lightheartedly as we made our way up the steps. 

“Fair enough cutie, I bet those thick thighs of yours could crush a mans skull.” He was teasing now, and my heart raced at the traitorous thought of him nestled between my thighs. 

“Are you volunteering?” I used every bit of confidence I had to send back that retort, and it seemed to work because when I glanced back his entire face was lit up, like a kid on Winter Solstice. He grinned, meeting my eyes and sending me a playful wink. 

“Most definitely. I’d die that honorable death.” He nodded eagerly, and then laughed as my cheeks reddened. 

“Oh shut it Gamlyn.” I shot back, groaning as I turned forwards again. 

But he most definitely didn’t shut it. In fact, by the time we reached the top I found he was incapable of any sort of silence, prattling on and on. If it wasn’t teasing and flirting with me, it was him making comments about those around us, how many steps there were, how excited he was to get a dragon, lamenting the start of classes, and seemingly whatever other random thought happened to pop into his head. 

I couldn’t say I wasn’t grateful for the distraction though, as by the time we’d made it to the top, my heart was light, fear nonexistent. A far cry from the dread that had begun to settle in my heart at the bottom of the stairs. I watched in silence as the girl ahead of me went out onto the parapet, which was mid-thunderstorm, shaking like a damn leaf. 

“Name?” I turned to see three hulking guys, all intimidating as hell, looking like gods amongst men. Two of them were marked ones, holding the dark, swirling relics inked into their skin. Children of traitors. Hot, but definitely more terrifying than my taste. I looked to the one holding the scroll. 

“Daisy Jenkins.” I said, keeping my voice steady as one of the men motions me forward, looking bored as hell.

I did as motioned, as Ridoc called out encouragement behind me. I’d missed the words though, because as soon as I’d stepped out onto the narrow stone, all I could hear was the howling of the wind as rain pelted my skin. It was cold and biting, each drop trying to pierce my skin with the force of little needles.

“One step at a time.” I nervously muttered to myself aloud, the habit I’d never quite kicked no matter how much my mother had tried to train it out of me. Adrenaline raced through my veins as I took a careful step, then another, and another. It was harder than usual with the pelting rain, but the hours of training had done me well. In regular weather, I could probably stride across the parapet with ease. 

I glanced forwards, heart stopping as I watched the girl wobble, only halfway across now. Then she dropped to her knees, hair clinging to her skin, unmoving and clinging to the stone for dear life. Three steps forward, and she still hadn’t moved. Four more steps and she was still huddled, unmoving and white knuckling the parapet. I stilled, half a dozen steps from her, my own panic starting to set in. I couldn’t move around her, I had to wait for her to move or fall. But she’d stopped not only me, but Ridoc and the rest of those behind us. Someone was bound to get sick of it and start chucking people off. 

“You need to move!” I yelled over the rain to her. Her terrified eyes flung to mine and I knew in a second that she wouldn’t, couldn’t,as fear had completely paralyzed her. She shook her head in fear as her hair partially blocked her vision. 

“Doll’s right!” Warmth settled itself near my shoulder as Ridoc was suddenly behind me, his body giving my own just enough space to not send me out of balance, but giving me warmth that I relished in amongst the bitter cold. “You need to start moving or we’re all dead!”

Movement ahead of her caught my eye, and fear sank into my gut. A damn ox of a man with bright red hair, obviously dyed, hulking muscles and an irritated expression was stalking towards us. He was the volunteer who’d been in front of this girl the entire way up the staircase, who’d been absolutely silent, other than a scoff or two at something Ridoc had said. 

“Shit!” I hissed, immediately palming a dagger off my hip and holding it at my side tightly. I couldn’t back away, so fighting was my only option if he decided to take us all out. “Get up!” I screeched but she shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut and having no fucking clue her death was about to be handed to her. 

“Sorry Doll,” Ridoc hissed, and before I could question him, he pulled one of the daggers off my chest brandishing it in front of us as his other hand wrapped around me, hand splaying over my armor covering my stomach, quickly steadying me as he backed us up three steps, putting more distance between us, the girl, and the monster stalking towards us with murderous fury in his gaze. 

“MOVE!” A male voice bellowed from behind us, no doubt one of the men who’d been taking names at the entrance. 

“Get up!” I called, desperation lacing my words. He was only five steps away now. 

“I can’t- AHHHH” I watched in horror as he lifted her like she was a damn rucksack and flung her off the side effortlessly. I forced my own terrified scream down and Ridoc tensed, pulling me tighter against his body as her screams were consumed by a crack of thunder. 

The murderer stared calculatingly between me and Ridoc before taking two steps towards us. “We’ll drag you right down this mountain with us!” Ridoc bellowed, voice sure and steady. The man stopped, and rolled his eyes before turning forward, stalking back to the other side, ignoring us once again. 

I let out a shaky breath as I waited until he was off the parapet completely, and then sheathed my dagger once more. Ridoc relaxed too, gently sheathing the dagger he’d borrowed, before his hand moved from my stomach to my waist, still steadying me. 

“Are you good?” He asked, his voice too close and I nodded. “Okay Daisy, you need to start moving for me, alright?” His tone had an undertone of teasing that snapped me from staring where the girl had disappeared off the side. I gulped as my vision turned watery and my eyes burned. 

Training was a lot different than the real thing. 

I fought off the tears, vision returning to normal as I nodded to him and myself, not trusting my voice to work without breaking. Ridoc’s hand left me, and I took a shaky step away from him, immediately missing his warmth amongst the biting cold. I was in a daze as I made my way across the rest of the parapet, not slipping once, but painfully numb, both literally and physically. I was drenched from head to toe, cold, and all I could picture was that girls face as she’d screamed. As she'd fell. As she'd disappeared into the haze on the cliffside.

It was only when I’d dropped onto flat ground that my stomach eased and I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. “Name?” A woman asked, giving me a small sympathetic smile. Her eyes were bored though. No real comfort. 

“Daisy Jenkins.” My voice was hollow, barely over a whisper but she nodded, seeming to hear me. I moved away, barely making it a few steps before hearing Ridoc give her his name, and I felt his presence beside me. 

“Hey doll, see ya around, yeah?” He asked, shooting me a heart stopping smile that made my breath hitch. But it wasn’t his carefree smile that caused my heart to ache, it was the barely concealed terror in his gaze, flickering just underneath his guise of flirtation. The way his eyes raked over my form like I meant something to him, like he’d almost lost something important. 

But that was fucking ridiculous right? He’d known me all of an hour or two. There was no way that much emotion was simmering just below the surface of his gaze. I had to be imagining things. Right? Right? 

“Sure.” I whispered, voice cracking and he nodded, backing away slightly, giving me more space than he had all afternoon. 

“Good.” He muttered, and then he was gone. A crack of thunder sounded, and I immediately missed his radiating warmth. Nothing but a chill I couldn’t shake remained, like he’d taken the last bit of light with him. I blinked, silently cursing myself for letting him weasel into my psyche in such a short time. 

C’mon Daisy, you’re better than that. Sighing, I stepped into the crowd that had gathered, neatly locking away every emotion I’d gathered since ascending the steps. Time for the next challenge. 

Authors Note: AHHHHHHHH! It feels so good to be posting again, and I have SO many ideas for this story. Let me know if you liked it! Next chapter will be posted in the next few days. ☺️☺️ Also if anything is spelt wrong let me know, I only have the audiobooks currently so I'm relying on google for name spellings and such.

[vortexbloom]

need a yandere phainon so much

Of course !

I already made some Yandere Headcanons for him, so I decided to write a OneShot :3

Unbound Obsession (OneShot)

Pairing: Yandere Phainon x Reader

Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)

Warnings: Yandere themes, Obsessiveness, Stalking

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Marvel

Boycott List

☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆ ────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── ☆

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters !

Have fun reading this :D

Art by: @illix233 on X (Twitter)

Phainon had always admired you from afar, your beauty, your kindness, your very essence drawing him in like a moth to a flame. But admiration soon turned into something darker, something obsessive.

It all started on one fateful day when your eyes met across the room. It was innocent at first—a passing glance, a momentary connection—but to Phainon, it was a spark. It ignited a fire in his chest, a fire that could never be extinguished. He began to watch you more closely, studying your every movement, your every word. He knew where you would be, what you would do, who you would speak to.

At first, he tried to be subtle. He would show up at places you frequented, pretending it was mere coincidence. A smile here, a soft greeting there. But as time passed, his actions became more bold, more possessive. He was always there, lurking in the shadows, just a step behind you, waiting for the perfect moment to claim you as his own.

He started sending gifts—flowers, trinkets, tokens of his affection—but none of them were ever enough. You never seemed to notice, never seemed to appreciate the lengths he would go to. That only fueled his obsession. He began to track your every move, learning your routines, discovering your likes and dislikes. Each new piece of information brought him closer to the conclusion that you two were meant to be together—forever.

And then came the day when he finally confessed.

It was a quiet evening, the world outside shrouded in darkness, the air thick with tension. He had orchestrated the perfect moment, knowing they would be alone. The room was dimly lit, the only sound the soft rhythm of your breathing as Phainon stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with a strange intensity.

"I’ve been watching you," he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. "I’ve been waiting for you to realize that we belong together. No one else matters. Just you and me."

Your heart raced, a chill creeping up you spine as you took a step back. But Phainon was quick, grabbing your wrist, his grip tight, unyielding.

"You don’t have to be afraid," he murmured, his lips curling into a smile that sent shivers down your spine. "I’ll make sure no one can take you from me. You’ll never leave my side."

His words were both a promise and a threat, a chilling combination that sent a cold sweat down your neck. But Phainon didn’t care. In his mind, this was fate. This was the way things were meant to be. And nothing—nothing—would stand in his way.

From that day forward, you would never be free again. Phainon’s obsession consumed him entirely. His love was suffocating, possessive, and there was no escaping it. He was always watching, always waiting, and no matter how much you tried to run, Phainon would always find a way to bring you back into his twisted, unrelenting embrace.

Because, to him, there was no other choice. You were his. Forever

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[nausicaamusiclover20]

NAUSICA I LOVE SO FREAKING MUCH YOUR WORK

i have a idea for a smutty fanfic with james hetfield 🥳

idk if someone already asked you this but anyways.

I just had the idea of ​​a fanfic of James who is married to reader and they have Cali (James's first daughter) newborn and reader's mother spends almost every day at her house with her granddaughter and those things, and because of those things they have not been able to have sex for months. But one night when his daughter and reader's mother are sleeping they have sex. It may sound strange but since James hasn't fucked for months, he goes a little hard, rough and very vocal with reader and makes everyone else wake up?

thank you so much!

Thank you so much for loving my stories. I'm so sorry if I'm posting this now. I hope you like it!❤

Warnings: mauture themes, sexual themes, strong language

_________________________

Interrupted desire

The house was finally silent. After months of exhaustion, between taking care of our newborn daughter, Cali, and my mother practically moving in to "help," James and I hadn't had a moment alone. Every night, we were either too tired or interrupted, and with my mother always around, privacy was nonexistent. Intimacy had become a distant memory.

But tonight? Tonight was different.

Cali was fast asleep in her bassinet, her tiny breaths even and peaceful. My mother had passed out in the guest room after an entire day of fussing over her granddaughter. For the first time in what felt like forever, there were no interruptions. No baby cries, no unannounced visits—just me, James, and a tension that had been simmering for months.

I barely had time to process it when James's hands were on me, his lips finding mine in a desperate kiss. His touch was rough, needy, and I felt my stomach tighten with anticipation. Months. It had been months since we had touched each other like this, and judging by the way James was gripping me, I wasn’t the only one feeling the ache of longing.

"Fuck, Y/N... you have no idea how much I've missed this," he growled against my skin, his voice thick with need. His hands slid under my shirt, rough fingers dancing over my skin, making me shiver.

I gasped as he lifted me effortlessly, pressing me against the mattress with a hunger that made my body burn. He wasn't holding back tonight. There was no slow build-up, no gentle teasing. Just raw, unfiltered need.

"James—" I barely got his name out before he was on me, his mouth trailing down my neck, teeth grazing my skin as he bit down, sucking marks onto my flesh. His body pressed against mine in a way that made me dizzy. The bed creaked beneath us as he moved, his groans mixing with my gasps.

He was rough. Desperate. Months of frustration poured into every movement. His hands gripped my hips tightly, keeping me right where he wanted me. He flipped me onto my stomach, his fingers pressing bruises into my skin as he yanked my hips back against him.

"You're mine, Y/N. Fuck, I’ve needed you so bad," he rasped, voice raw and wrecked.

The way he was panting, groaning, muttering curses under his breath—he wasn’t holding back, and neither was I. My fingers clawed at the sheets, trying to muffle my own moans, but it was impossible. The headboard hit the wall with a rhythmic thud, and the bedframe creaked louder than I remembered.

Too loud.

James didn’t seem to care. If anything, it only fueled him. His grip on my waist tightened, his thrusts growing even more relentless. He tangled a hand in my hair, tugging my head back as his teeth scraped against my shoulder. "Take it, baby. Fuck, you feel so good."

And then—

"What the hell?!"

The voice sliced through the air like a bucket of ice water.

James froze. My heart nearly stopped.

We turned in sync toward the door, where my mother stood, wide-eyed and horrified. In the crib, Cali stirred, letting out a tiny, confused wail.

James let out a long, frustrated groan and buried his face in the crook of my neck. "God damn it."

Heat flooded my face as I scrambled to grab the covers, my mind racing for an explanation—any explanation—but what could I even say?

Before I could come up with anything, my mother sighed dramatically. "For god's sake, at least have the decency to put a pillow behind the damn headboard next time!"

Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and marched down the hall, muttering under her breath about "young people and their hormones."

As soon as she disappeared, silence hung in the air for a long moment before James let out a breathy chuckle. "Oops."

I swatted at his chest, laughing despite myself. "Oops?! That’s all you have to say?"

James smirked, nuzzling into my neck. "What else can I say? Next time, I’ll try to keep it quieter."

James collapsed on top of me, breathless and defeated. "We finally get a moment and this happens."

I let out a helpless laugh, still reeling. "Well... at least now she knows we’re still married."

He groaned again, rolling off me, arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me close. "We’re trying this again tomorrow. No interruptions."

"If we survive the embarrassment," I teased.

I rolled my eyes, but the truth was, I couldn’t wait for next time.

And honestly? It really was worth it.

[longagoitwastuesday]

Thinking of one of those two fanfics that rewired my brain this last summer once again. Thinking of the sunrises

[cuteniarose]

It’s almost 6 a.m and I can’t sleep because I’m being plagued by thoughts of The Latest OC

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon was seething. Never had he been so viscerally angry, his temper dangerously towing the tight rope that was his self control. You’d almost been killed. You’d been shot, and you were damn lucky that it hadn’t been fatal.

He found you on the roof later that night, no longer hiding the pain the bullet wound in your side had caused once you thought you were alone. It took all of two seconds of him seeing you hurting like that for him to snap.

“The fuck were you thinking out there, Y/N?!” His voice echoed in the night air, causing you to flinch slightly. “Do please tell me you’ve got a reasonable explanation for what happened.”

“Simon, please just calm down for a minute.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and it only fueled his anger more.

“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” Simon bellowed, his self control rapidly slipping out of his grasp. “You almost fuckin’ died, Y/N!”

Simon hated the way you flinched, hated the way you backed up ever so slightly away from him, but he couldn’t control himself. He had almost lost you.

“I know that, Simon. I know. But I don’t regret what went down.” You forced your voice steady, your eyes not leaving his as you attempted to stand your ground. “I-.”

“You don’t regret almost getting shot? Y/N, you’re not on this team to make reckless decisions. If I knew you’d be making choices like that, I’d have had Price kick you off the team months ago! Almost dying, for what? For what?!” Simon moved closer to you, the red in his vision nearly blinding, and this time you didn’t back away.

“For you, asshole!” You screamed, your hands reaching for Simon’s chest, pushing him as hard as you possibly could. Simon barely moved an inch before you screamed again. “For you! If I hadn’t taken that bullet, you would’ve died!”

Simon’s world stopped in that moment, the red vanishing from his vision, his heart coming to a slow halt in his chest as he absorbed your words. For him?

“He was aiming at you, Simon. If I hadn’t stepped in the way, we would’ve lost you. And I.” You trailed off, unable to look at the hulking man in front of you. “I don’t know, I didn’t hesitate, it was as if it was just instinct for me.”

Simon could hear his heartbeat in his ears, the soft thud thud thud the only thing keeping him grounded. You’d saved him. You’d risked your life to save him.

You, the sweet soldier who always put others first. You, the one who’d always patched him up late at night, laughing at his shitty jokes. You, the one who understood him like nobody else. You, the one person in this godforsaken world that got him to lower the never ending walls within him. You, the one he’d unknowingly loved for years. Saved him.

“I know it was stupid, and if you want to kick me off of the team for it, fine. But I’d do it again.” You threw your hands up in the air, and Simon didn’t miss the way you winced from the pain in your side. “I don’t regret it.”

Simon only stared at you, his eyes betraying none of the inner turmoil that he was currently experiencing.

“I couldn’t lose you, Simon.” Your voice was barely audible as you spoke, your eyes falling on the lower half of his mask. “Not now, not ever. I don’t know what I would’ve done if that bullet hit you.”

Simon’s eyes found yours as he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He opened his mouth to speak, but his tongue felt heavy, incapable of moving. For the first time in his life, he truly didn’t know what to say.

He watched as you chewed your bottom lip, your eyes leaving his yet again as you looked down at your feet. God he wishes he could say something, anything, but as always words failed him around you.

“I’ve got to go report in to Price.” You said, slowly turning away from him to face the door. “I won’t apologize for what I did, but I’m sorry for causing you to doubt my ability to support the team. Have a good night, lieutenant.”

Watching you turn away from him had finally stirred something within him, his heart rapidly beating in his chest. He had to make this right.

“Y/N.” Simon found his voice as you reached the roof’s door, causing you to turn to face him. “Wait.”

Your heart practically stopped beating upon finding Simon’s mask discarded, his face now fully bare for you to see. You weren’t sure what you had expected, once you’d finally seen him, but it certainly wasn’t this.

He was simply beautiful. Every scar, every small freckle, dimple, wrinkle had formed his face impeccably well, and you couldn’t help but stare at him as your mind ran completely blank.

You’d fallen for the masked man long ago, his dry humor, loyalty and bravery were something that’d you’d found yourself drawn to. You’d meant what you said to him about not regretting taking a bullet for him. You loved him. And truthfully couldn’t fathom a life without him.

“Now you see me.” Simon breathed, his eyes softening as he watched you take in every inch of his face. He should’ve felt vulnerable, shy even. But he didn’t. Not with you. He wanted you to see him, every imperfect inch of him.

He bared himself to you, let his face and eyes tell you everything he didn’t know how to express with words.

“I’ve always seen you, Simon Riley.” You spoke, your voice barely above a whisper as your hand softly cupped his cheek. “Always.”

And that was all it took for Simon to know he loved you.

[preqwells]

imagining simon with a reader that's extremely awkward since it's their first serious relationship.

simon was practically yearning for your touch, ready to burst at the seams and teeter over while you hesitantly refrained. you two had been dating for at least eight months and had known each other for longer around this point, so he was well-adjusted and within his comfort zone with you; he trusts you. you’ve had flings here and there, all of which lasted more than a month if you were lucky— not your fault these assholes did a complete 180 once you officially put a title on things. for a long time, you convinced yourself that it was your fault since the only common factor in all of those relationships was you until simon was practically desperate to prove you wrong— although his poker face and lack of flowery words would ever allow him to do so.

every time simon would try to get closer to you at night? you didn’t know what to do. cheek kisses? you’d just press your lips into a tight-lipped smile, managing a small “thanks” and averted your gaze. if simon tried to hold your hand? it was almost like you’d find a way to wiggle out of it. it was almost like you weren’t used to affection— how could you of all people not be used to affection, he wondered.

he started to eventually get discouraged at one point. he wasn’t one for affection often, but you didn’t seem to want to get closer to him— why didn’t you want to get closer to him? he’d try to brush it off, but he wasn’t good with words and touch was all he had left.

it was abruptly brought up when you two were seated on the couch, his eyes mindlessly mapping out how your hair framed the side of your face, assuming it began to tickle you from the way you raised your hand and began to gently scratch the softness of your cheek. “why do you move away from me when i try to touch you?” he suddenly asked, his voice vibrating in his chest. he caught onto the way your jaw undulated at the question which only fueled his curiosity. were you aware you had been doing this to him? were you dangling your affection above his head? what a cruel game if you were, honestly. “um…” you began, a silence ensuing between you two. you didn’t know what to say— what could you say? your reasoning felt silly the more you thought about it— you didn’t want to push simon away of all people.

“i don’t know what to do or where to put my hands… and im afraid i’ll get clingy. its not that i dont like it… i do…. i just…” you mumbled, your eyes flickering between his and the tv.

…that was it?

you didn’t know where to put your hands and you thought you’d be clingy just after giving him a small hug? small kiss? he stifled a laugh which you caught onto, prompting a small pout to form on your plush lips. “why’re you laughing? i’m being serious!” you groaned, slightly frustrated at the feeling of simon not taking this seriously. simon took your frustration in stride, the roughness of his hands grazing across your cheeks as he gingerly cupped the sides of your face. “s’nothin— nothin a’ all…” he mumbled, secretly on cloud nine as he silenced you with a kiss, feeling you tense up to which he elicited a throaty chuckle. “it’s not— s’not funny!” you attempted to reprimand him which failed, seeing as how you were holding back your laugh at simon’s smile and at how ridiculous the situation was now that you thought about it.

“you’re right. i’m afraid you’ll be like a leech if you get used to me.” he mumbled against your lips. he was pleasantly surprised at the feeling of your hands returning the gesture and cupping his face, your thumbs grazing the stubble which pricked and prodded needles into the soft pads of your fingers. “shut up.” you mumbled back, pulling him down onto the couch with you as he landed on your chest. he tried to ignore the rapid beating of your heart and how it hammered in your chest, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think it was cute.

if you weren’t used to affection, he’d have to change that.

[angelicjas]

"WHY DONT YOU LOVE ME DADDY ? "

starring ꒱ gojo, s. geto, k. nanami.

sum ꒱ plethora of jjk men to fuel your daddy issues — which we all know you secretly have

wc: 2.3k

@warnings! ꒱ daddy!kink, age gaps, p in v, basic sex stuff, filthy smut, cumming inside, cunnilingus, degrading, praise, not rlly proof read, kind of buns but oh well. dumbification kinda, i think thats it lmk if not !!

SATORU GOJO; the sugar daddy.

that new bag you eyed for 2 seconds last week? you find it on the dining table with a note that simply writes, ‘enjoy baby!’. your amazon cart? shein cart? bought with fast shipping, no matter how expensive or full it is. those cute pants you keep seeing everyone on tiktok gloating about? bought and on your nightstand.

satoru, loved to spoil his baby in all sorts of shiny jewels and designer, he loved to see the big smile on your face no matter how many times he’s bought you things. when you go out for girls night? he’s sending you with a stack of money, the size and weight of atleast 1000 dollars cash, throwing it down as if it was a mere 20, his only request was to call him if you or your girls needed anything.

but what satoru loved most, was buying you pretty lingerie.

“mmh!- fuck. .” pap, pap, pap. was the only sound that could be heard in your shared bedroom, your body was wrapped in a light blue lace satoru had bought you, the light color matching his eyes beautifully, the panties were pulled to the side, since he claimed he just ‘had to fuck you with it on.’

“fuck baby, you look so gorgeous with this. .” he pants in your ear heavily, he had your legs on his shoulders, ankles to his ears,

“yeah, mmph- you’re taking me so well baby.”

you could barely register his words, the only thing on your mind was how fucking deep he was, you could feel him in your stomach as he hits that spongey spot deep inside over and over.

your jaw seemed to be stuck in a permanent ‘o’ shape, the only thing coming out of your mouth was the pornagraphic moans that you couldn’t seem to hide even if you wanted too.

your body was bouncing with every thrust, your eyes rolling to the back of your head on a particularly hard thrust.

“yeah, fuck- mhm, you look so fucking pretty, holy shit.” gojo never seemed to shut up during sex, even as he moans inbetween every word. he just felt like he had to let you know how good you look and feel.

the pleasure he was feeling made his body want to roll his head back so bad, but he refused to look away from the fucked out expression on your face.

gojo could also never keep his hands off you, caressing your hips, to your waist, down your arms.. groping and pawing at any skin he could get his greedy hands on.

his mouth was no better, when he wasn’t talking your ear off he’s kissing you sloppily, mostly containing of teeth clashing and tongues colliding more then actual lips touching, or kissing down your neck in a poor attempt to muffle his moans.

“t-toru!” you barely whimper out as more tiny ‘ah, ah, ah!’s leave your lips, he shushes you gently with a sinister grin plastered on his face. “I know baby, I know. you can take it thought right?” he whispers moving his head next to your ear, nipping at your skin lightly.

“hmm?” he hums in question, as if you were even able to answer.

“yes!, yes! holy fuck, yes!” you weren’t even quite sure what you were saying yes to at this point, the repeated jabs to your g-spot making you dizzy, you could feel the pleasure slowly become overwhelming.

“mmm,” he hums and speeds up his hips impossibly faster, causing more moans to usher past your lips unexpectedly. he tilts your chin to look at him, making you kiss him as your teeth bump together and your tongue’s tie. “good fucking girl.”

he breathes into your mouth as his eyebrows furrow, he knows you’re just as close as he is.

“g-g’nna cum!” you just barely find the words as you had been fucked utterly senseless. he hums in delight into your mouth before pulling away, kissing and sucking at your neck sloppily,

“cum baby, please.” he begs as he feels you clench around him and chant his name like a mantra.

hearing his name swarm out of your mouth mixed with the way your tightness squeezed around his cock, it sent him over the edge aswell, moaning even louder then you as he buries himself deep in your wetness, letting the ropes of his warm cum spill into you.

SUGURU GETO; the kids you babysits daddy.

It’s probably wrong, the way the same night you tucked his girls into bed after reading them a sweet story, you’re downstairs getting fucked over the kitchen counter.

it was a side gig, an attempt as a broke college student to get some money, eventually you grew to love the two girls you babysat as if they were your own. it also helped that their dad was a fucking smokeshow.

the way you’d run home and tell your girlfriends all about how hot the kids you babysit's dad is, “id call him daddy.” you speak into the phone as you all giggle, in that moment you can also feel your heart drop to your stomach as you hear someone clear their throat from behind you.

“call who daddy sweetheart?” you hear your friends exchange “ooo’s” and laughs through the telephone as you slowly turn around, much to your horror, and see the same man you were just erotically speaking about..

“such a whore baby, is this really the way my children's babysitter should be acting? hm?” he had you in a mean arch, pounding mercilessly into you, the only sound throughout the kitchen being your muffled moans and the squelching beneath you two. you were bent over the kitchen counter, the same one you’ve made the girls food countless time.

it was wrong, you’re sure of that, but its hard to think about that when the only thing on your mind is how fucking deep he was, you swore you could feel him rearranging your guts with each harsh thrust, he knows how to hit that spongey spot deep inside with perfect precision over and over, much better then all those stupid college hook-ups you had.

“s-sugu!, so deep! . . s-shit!” you hear a menacing laugh behind you, mocking you.

realistically, suguru always knew you found him attractive. he could tell by the way your eyes lingered a little to long when you thought he wasn't paying attention, but he always was. he kept a keen eye on you because, frankly, he was also head over fucking heels.

he thought you were the cutest little thing, always showing off in those cute dresses and skirts that hugged your body so tightly, even the days where you wore sweatpants and tracksuits he found himself drooling, still imagining what was underneath.

call him a pervert all you want, especially going for a girl so much younger, so naive. but you were just as much of a pervert. always bending over a little to far in front of him, showing off your cute dainty panties. hugging him a bit to tightly as you left, making sure your boobs pressed riiiight up against him.

which is why he wasted no time bending your little slutty ass over as soon as he could.

“cmon baby, do what you told your friends, yeah?” his head tilts lower, giving open mouth kisses over your neck and down your back, groaning against your skin everytime he feels you clench around his cock.

“mmm-!” you could barely form a coherent thought, hearing the ‘schlick, schlick, shlick’ noises of your messy cunt drooling around him.

“f-fuck! can’t- jesus-!” you stutter out, your eyes crossing as you throw your head back impossibly farther, making suguru reach for your hair and grab it into a sloppy ponytail.

he pulls you by the makeshift pony so your right up next to his own face, “not gonna ask again, little girl.” the husk in his tone, the vile words he’d say, all made you clench tighter and moan louder, biting your bottom lip until it was raw and swollen from trying to contain them.

“s-sorry!” you moan out, the sound of your skin clapping with the wet noises echoing louder throughout the kitchen.

“daddy! fuck fuck- daddy, daddy, daddy!” you can barely contain your screams as he hushes you gently, all with the same sly smirk on his lips that hasn’t left ever since he walked in on your little phone conversation.

“thatsss it,” he groans feeling his own orgasm creeping up. “atta girl, so fucking good.” you felt like you could cum from his words alone, tightening around his shaft once you feel that familiar pleasure consume you.

“c-c’mming!” is all you can manage to get out before it hits you like a fucking train. your legs are shaking, eyes rolled back, uncontainable moans spilling from your lips.

looking at your disheveled state, suguru moans against you burying himself deeeep inside your tummy, what really pushed him over that edge was one more small tight hug from your pussy, causing warm ropes to shoot into you as you squirm, still trying to recover.

“whoopsies, maybe you’ll just have to carry our own kids, hm?”

oh fuck.

KENTO NANAMI; daddy issues daddy.

your relationship with your father was…never great, to say the least, it caused a few problems in your life, sure, but the main one, was the attraction you had in much older men. your friends never understood, i mean, why don’t you want a young guy that can handle you? or a guy your age you can grow old with?

they didnt understand, of course they wouldnt. an older man can throw you around much better then any young guy you’ve been with ever could.

which is why nanami, who you happen to meet at a bar, is practically your dream man ever since the moment you laid eyes on him.

“come here often handsome?” you sit next to him with a seductive smile, leaning your elbow on the bar and resting your cheek on it. he simply turns to look at you, and with an amused huff shakes his head.

“very nice sweetheart,” you can feel your heart swoons at the name. “but im far to old for you.” tch, yeah right.

you aren’t exactly sure how you got where you are now, whether it was the booze, your head being clouded with lust, or maybe both, but your seated in the back of his fancy ass car, with him between your legs.

“you don’t have to do that y’know, if you don’t want too.” you pant looking down at him, I mean afterall no man you’ve ever known has ever really wanted to eat pussy. yet, he still shoots you a perplexed look, shaking his head aggressively.

“I want to,” the words catch you off guard yet make the ache between your thighs even louder. “need to teach you how a real man does it, hm?”

you moan simply at his words and nod your head, throwing your head back as he continues his work kissing along your thighs, humming here and there.

he eventually, comes face to face with your glistening cunt, blowing on it causing your legs to squirm shut, before he quickly grabs ahold of them, now putting your knees allll the way up to your chest, you whine at this before it quickly gets cut off with a real moan once he swipes his tongue through your folds, humming into your wetness.

his tongue swirls around, collecting and swallowing every ounce of your slick as if he was a dehydrated puppy. you’ve never been eaten out with so much . . pleasure? every guy that’s done it before was either terrible at it, completely missing and licking the lips, or just plain hated it anyway.

“mmh- shit. . . feels s’ good.” your head lolls back and more whimpers escape past your lips blissfilly, his lips curl to suckle your sensitive clit, causing you to grab at his hair and whine loudly.

“fuck- so needy baby.” he pants into your soaked hole, mixed with your arousal and his spit. “she’s never been treated right has she? poor thing.” he coos and speaks to it as if it was a real person,

the filthy wet noises emitting from between your thighs only turned you on more, between the constant torture to your clit mixed with his dirty talk? you knew you were a goner soon.

his tongue explored you as much as he could, thrusting the wet muscle into your opening as you needily moan from above him, the grip on his once put together hair, becoming tighter. he sped up, tongue lapping at your essence as he switches between suckling on your clit, to drinking up your dampness.

“s-shit! wait- . . nanami!” the sudden change in pace causes your legs to shake and much louder moans to escape your lips.

unfortunately, everyone that could see the car definitely knew what was going on inside. not only could they hear, but could probably see the car shaking.

your head flew back and your legs attempted to clam together again before a harsh smack! landed against your thigh, causing a whimper to escape your lips.

“keep ‘em open.” the man speaks between your thighs.

“’m close, so f’ckin close-!” the windows were fogged with heat already, nanami slurping at a quickened pace, never failing to reach the most sensitive parts inside of you.

you can feel your climax approaching, the warmth in your belly growing with lust,

“cum.”

was all it took for your legs to shake and your body to writhe and twist above him, he continues to gulp at your creaminess until you ride out your orgasm and have to practically push him off of you.

“wanna see how a real man fucks angel?”

hell yeah you do.

-

toji was supposed to b in this but i got lazy

[greengoblinswifey]

Fatal Attraction

pairing— The Salesman x Recruiter!Reader

summary— You and the Salesman share an undeniable attraction that’s filled with playful banter and sexual chemistry, despite the risks of being involved as recruiters for the Squid Game. It eventually boils over in a way you didn’t expect. based on this request.

warnings— sexual tension, flirting, jealousy, switch!salesman, manipulation, groping, slight voyeurism, thigh riding, praise kink.

a/n— part 2?🤭

Part II

The evening air was cloudy as the city hummed around you. Dressed in a chic black dress that hugged your figure and a pair of sleek red bottom heels, you walked through the dimly lit streets with an air of effortless confidence. Your black curls cascaded over your shoulders, catching the light as you moved, each step commanding attention. The world around you seemed to part as men turned their heads, unable to resist the allure you exuded.

You smirked, feeling the eyes on you. Most of the time, you didn’t need to say a word. They came to you. A flirtatious smile was all it took, and you knew that by the time they left, they'd be clutching the game card in their hands, their minds already made up. It was easy, really. Your beauty and charm were weapons, subtle but deadly, and you wielded them with precision. It was no wonder they hired you.

Behind you, the Salesman was watching. His gaze followed you, a mix of admiration and something else, something darker? He’d always been fascinated by you, but you knew he wouldn’t admit it. His competitive streak ran deep, and that was what made the dynamic between the two of you so—interesting. You had a way of making him lose focus, just for a moment, and he hated how much he liked it.

“Are you always this distracting?” he asked. He stepped closer, his presence almost predatory as you felt his eyes linger on you for too long.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you teased.

He narrowed his eyes, clearly annoyed but intrigued at the same time. “You're making it hard for me to concentrate,” he said.

You leaned in just enough to feel the heat between you, brushing past him sultry, making sure to brush your ass against hun. “Well,” you said, your voice a whisper, “maybe you just need to focus more.”

The way his jaw tightened gave you a little thrill. He wasn’t used to being the one distracted, but there you were, effortlessly captivating him. He hated that you had this power over him, but at the same time, it only fueled his need to be around you.

As you approached a group of lower class men, you effortlessly captured their attention, your words emphasized as you explained the game to them, each one of them hanging on your every word. They didn’t even care about the money anymore, they were entranced by you, by the way you spoke, the way you looked, the way your eyes sparkled with mystery.

You glanced over your shoulder, catching the Salesman’s narrowed eyes. There was a flicker of jealousy there, and you smiled to yourself. He was usually so composed, so in control, but when it came to you, it was clear he was a little off balance.

As you handed the last card to a willing participant, you turned back toward him, catching frustration in his eyes. “You’re still looking at my ass,” you noted. “Is there something you want to say?”

His eyes flickered to yours, something passing between you, but instead of responding immediately, he took a step closer, cornering you against a nearby wall. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel his breath on your skin, and for a moment, the world around you both seemed to fade away.

“We need to focus,” you said, your voice a mix of teasing and determination. You could feel his body heat radiating against yours, and for just a second, you almost let go. But the chemistry between you two was a game of its own, one you weren’t ready to lose yet.

His lips hovered inches from yours, but you moved away just in time, leaving him wanting more, the silent promise of what could be lingering in the air between you. You walked away, leaving him there, caught between frustration and fascination.

“You’re impossible,” he muttered, but there was a smile at his lips. He couldn’t stay mad at you for long.

“You love it,” you called over your shoulder with a wink, and he couldn’t argue with that.

The bustling subway platform crowded, filled with footsteps, idle chatter, and the occasional rumble of an approaching train. You stood poised, elegant as ever while the Salesman stood nearby, his briefcase in hand and his usual smirk in place, but even he couldn't deny that all eyes were on you.

“You’re making this too easy,” he said, his voice laced with amusement as he watched another man approach you, drawn in like a moth to a flame.

“Not my fault I have—certain advantages,” you replied, letting your hand drift over your tits for just a moment before returning to the man who had approached you.

The man stammered as you handed him a game card, your voice smooth as you explained the rules. He barely registered the words, too mesmerized by the way you leaned in just enough to catch his attention.

From the corner of your eye, you saw the Salesman watching, his expression a mixture of pride and annoyance.

“You’re going to spoil them,” he muttered under his breath as the man walked away, clutching the card like it was a love letter.

“Jealous?”

“Hardly,” he shot back, but the way his jaw tightened said otherwise.

As you moved through the station, you approached another potential recruit, a man sitting on a bench, his head in his hands. His clothes were old, his expression weary. You softened your approach, sitting beside him with a look of genuine concern.

“I couldn’t help but notice you look like you could use a fresh start,” you began, your voice gentle.

The man looked up, startled by your presence. His eyes widened as he took in your appearance, clearly caught off guard.

“It’s not easy, is it?” you continued, your tone having fake empathy. “But I can offer you something better. A chance to turn things around.”

By the time you handed him the card, the man was nodding eagerly, his despair replaced by a spark of hope.

The Salesman watched from a distance, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re a witch,” he said when you returned to his side. “The way you manipulate people—it’s almost unfair.”

“Takes one to know one,” you said smiling.

Later that evening, the two of you stood in a crowded peak, each of you scanning the crowd for potential players. He approached a group of men, his signature ddakji tiles in hand. “Care for a game?” he offered, his tone inviting.

The men glanced at him, then at you, their interest shifting immediately.

“Actually, we’d rather play with her,” one of them said, his gaze fixed on you.

You smirked, stepping closer to the Salesman and leaning in just enough to make him flinch. “Looks like you’ve got competition,” you whispered.

“Careful, or I might start charging for your services,” he retorted.

As the men prepared to play, you caught the Salesman watching you again. You met his gaze, your lips curving into a sly smile. Then, almost unknowingly, you bit your bottom lip, letting the subtle action hang heavy in the air.

His eyes darkened, his composure slipping for just a moment before you stepped away, leaving him standing there, frustrated and wanting more.

During one particularly tense recruitment, a man you’d just handed a card to glanced between you and the Salesman, frowning. “You two, you should really sort out whatever this is,” he said, gesturing between you.

Without missing a beat, you turned to him. “What you need to sort out is that broke issue you have,”you retorted, leaving him sputtering as you walked away.

“You’re ruthless,” the Salesman laughed, shaking his head.

“And you love it,” you shot back, not even bothering to deny it.

As the night wore on, the two of you found yourselves alone again, leaning against a railing overlooking the city. He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his hand brushing against your arm. For a moment, it seemed like he might close the distance, but you stepped back, breaking the spell.

“Back up,” you snapped.

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “One day, you’re not going to walk away,” he said.

You smiled, turning away as your curls bounced with each step. “Good luck with that,” you called over your shoulder, leaving him to brew in his frustration once again.

Another evening at the busy train station, you and the Salesman stood on opposite sides of the platform, each scanning for potential recruits. You caught his eye briefly before a man in a tattered suit approached you. He didn’t hesitate to ask your name, his interest plain.

The Salesman watched from a distance as you gave the man a coy smile, tilting your head to send the perfect signal. The man eagerly accepted the card you handed him, and even after walking away, he kept glancing back at you.

“Showing off again?” the Salesman said as he finally approached.

“Not my fault,” you said with a shrug. “They just come to me.”

“They should try not flirting with you for once,” he muttered, his jaw tightening as his gaze darted to the men still watching you.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” you laughed softly, leaning in for him to smell your perfume.

Later that night, the two of you walked back to the car after another successful round of recruitment. He was unusually quiet as you strolled under the streetlights, the faint sound of your heels breaking the silence.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked, glancing up at him.

He hesitated, then said, “I was just thinking, how do you do it?”

“Do what?”

He stopped walking and turned to face you. “Get everyone to fall at your feet like that.”

You tilted your head, a small smile on your lips. “It’s a gift. But don’t worry, you’re not immune.”

He shook his head, his smirk returning.

During one recruitment night, you and the Salesman found yourselves at a lounge. You moved effortlessly through the room, drawing attention without even trying. At the bar, a man offered to buy you a drink, and you accepted with a polite smile, leaning in to keep him hooked.

From across the room, the Salesman watched, his jaw clenching when the man leaned closer to whisper something in your ear. You laughed lightly, slipping the card into the man’s jacket pocket before walking away.

When you rejoined the Salesman, he raised an eyebrow. “Enjoy yourself?”

“Totally,” you replied, sipping the drink you had brought back with you.

“Next time, I’ll be the one buying you a drink,” He leaned in, his voice low.

You looked up at him, your lips curving into a playful smile. “If you’re lucky.”

One late night, as you were reviewing the day’s ‘victims’, a playful argument broke out between you two.

“You only got that guy at the park because I wasn’t there,” he teased, leaning against the table.

“Oh, please,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “He wouldn’t have looked at your ass twice.”

“Care to bet on that?”

You met his gaze, unfazed. “Fine. Loser buys dinner.”

“Deal.”

As he turned to leave, you called after him, “You should practice your flirting first. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass yourself.”

Another evening you stood on the busy street corner, your black dress and signature heels drawing stares as usual. A potential recruit leaned lazily against a lamppost, his attitude immediately grating.

“You think I’m fucking stupid enough to fall for this?” he sneered, flicking the card you handed him back toward you. His tone was sharp, his words laced with anger.

Your smile tightened, but you didn’t break your composure. “I wouldn’t say stupid, but if the shoe fits—”

The man stepped closer, his expression darkening. “Listen, woman, don’t test me. You think your little tricks work on everyone?”

Before you could respond, the Salesman appeared at your side, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the man. Without warning, his fist connected with the man’s jaw, sending him falling backward. The man scrambled to his feet, muttering curses as he stumbled away.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It’s my job to make sure you’re safe,” he replied firmly, his voice softer now as his eyes stayed on yours.

For the first time, you faltered. His protectiveness caught you off guard, leaving you unsure of what to say.

He cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “How about dinner?”

“Sure, what the hell.”

The restaurant was cozy and dimly lit, a bit romantic. You sat across from him, sipping your wine as laughter filled your small talk. For the first time, the banter felt easy, natural.

The waitress arrived to refill your drinks and smiled warmly at the two of you. “You two make a great couple,” she said.

You opened your mouth to correct her, but the Salesman beat you to it. “Yes, we do,” he said, his grin almost asking you to challenge him.

You shot him a look, your eyebrow arching. He just shrugged, clearly enjoying himself.

As the meal continued, you slipped off your Louis Vuittons under the table, your stocking clad foot gliding toward him. You made contact with his leg first, and when he didn’t react, you moved higher.

His fork clattered against his plate when your toes brushed against his cock. He coughed, his eyes darting to yours.

“Careful,” you said, tilting your head innocently.

“What—what are you doing?” he stammered.

“What do you mean?” you asked, as if you had no idea what he was talking about.

His jaw clenched as he tried to maintain his composure, but you could see the cracks forming. “Act normal,” you murmured softly, your foot still teasing his cock. “Wouldn’t want anyone to know what we’re doing.”

He nodded stiffly, attempting to make small talk, but his sentences came out broken and stuttered. You held back a laugh, savoring his discomfort.

By the time the meal ended, you had stopped, sitting back in your chair and putting your heels back on with a satisfied smirk as he paid the bill.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet, but the air between you was filled with more tension than usual. You placed your hand on his thigh, rubbing lightly as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Why are you so tense?” you asked.

“Don’t act dumb,” he muttered, his voice strained.

You giggled, sliding your hand higher until you reached his bulge. His sharp inhale didn’t go unnoticed, and you leaned back in your seat, thoroughly enjoying yourself.

When you finally reached your apartment, he followed you inside, closing the door behind him. Before you could take another step, he spun you around and pressed you against the door, his hands braced on either side of your head.

His face was close to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m sick of your games,” he growled. “It doesn’t matter what happens out there. In here, I’m in control.”

You bit your lip, your pulse quickening. “Yes, sir,” you murmured, your voice teasing.

That was all it took for his restraint to snap.

His lips crashed against yours. It was magnetic, a clash of sexual tension and pent up frustration. His hands framed your face as if you were going to slip away. Your arms went around his neck instinctively, drawing him closer. The world outside the apartment ceased to exist. His lips moved with a ferocity that made you forget every rule you were breaking.

Before you could even catch your breath, he lifted you effortlessly, his hands firm on your thighs as he carried you through the dimly lit apartment. His strength, his control, sent something through you. He didn’t hesitate, pushing open the door to the bedroom with his shoulder, and setting you down in his lap as he sank onto the edge of the bed.

You slowly began grinding on him, his hands moved to your waist, guiding you instinctively. “You always know how to push me, don’t you?” he murmured against your lips.

“Me? I think you’re the one who—”

He cut you off with a smirk, his grip tightening. “Ride my thigh,” he said suddenly.

Your heart beat faster. “W-what?” you stammered, caught off guard.

“You heard me,” he repeated, his dark gaze locking with yours. “Show me how much control you really have.”

Your breath hitched as his hands remained steady on your hips, guiding you forward. You hesitated, unsure if this was a line you should cross, but his touch, his words, it was consuming. Slowly, you moved on his thigh, the friction and the intimacy making your pulse quicken.

“Good girl,” he murmured. “Just like that.”

His praise sent a thrill through you, but as the moment grew more intense, the reality of the situation began to creep in. Your hips moved back and forth and your head fell back as the pleasure began to build in a way you didn’t expect. You were leaking through your thong and stockings, staining his pants. His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “Cum on my thigh,” he whispered.

The coil in your abdomen snapped, your release hitting you like a truck, and you sagged against him, breathless and unsure how things had escalated this far. His arms wrapped around you as he steadied you, holding you close as the weight of what just happened sank in.

“W-we shouldn’t be doing this,” you whispered, breaking the silence.

“No,” he agreed, his voice low. “But I’m not stopping.”

The rules echoed in your mind, the Front Man’s orders, the consequences if you were caught. You knew you were playing with fire, but there was no denying the pull between you.

“If he finds out,” you trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence.

His thumb brushed against your cheek as he met your gaze. “He won’t,” he said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

The words hung in the air, a reassurance and a promise all at once. You knew it wasn’t that simple, but in his arms, you felt obligated to believe.

[gloomwitchwrites]

For call of duty, can you write how 141 would react to you coming home after being announced KIA?

Love your work btw ❤️❤️

Not gonna lie, anon, but I genuinely read this as us reacting to the 141 coming home after being announced KIA, not them reacting to us coming home. I literally dumped everything I had planned and redid it because I missed that ONE word. (oops). Still, it's an emotional one. Your tears fuel me. :)

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

Task Force 141 x Task Force 141!f!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): angst, reunions, fluff, kissing, secret relationship, established relationship, grief/loss, swearing, mild humor, suggestive themes, mild sexual content

Word Count: 2k

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

John Price

Reality isn’t fair. It’s not kind or forgiving.

A week gone and John is simply floating, going through the motions, simply existing. This is why you don’t date military while in the military. It’s shit like this. It’s being told the person you love is fucking dead and now you’re the one left to pick up the pieces.

There wasn’t even a body. Vaporized is what they told him. Instant and painless. You felt nothing. It’s a small comfort, but John would rather have you in his arms than knowing you’re nothing more than atoms.

He sighs, and then puffs on his cigar. Smoke curls around him. It’s all quiet on base. Everyone is gone other than the routine patrol. John sits alone in his office, looking for files for an upcoming mission.

There’s a soft knock on is office door.

“Come in,” he says, not knowing who it might be but it must be important for it to be this late.

The door clicks and then creaks as it opens. John glances up, the cigar halfway to his mouth before the world around him completely stutters to a halt.

A phantom—a vaporized phantom—stands just inside, one hand on the doorknob. You are unharmed—clean. No scratches or wounds that John can see and wearing civilian clothing.

John is already standing, already moving, unable to resist the urge to remain in his chair and write this all off as a delusion. The cigar is forgotten, probably burning a hole in the wood of his desk. You match the forward momentum, shutting the office door, reaching out to him. When his arms go around you, and pull you in, John realizes that this is not an illusion. You are real and alive and here.

“You’re dead,” he murmurs, disbelief in his tone.

“I know. And I’m so sorry. It wasn’t—”

John grasps the back of your neck in a harsh hold, pulling you in for a kiss. He silences your voice, only needing your warmth and taste. You melt for him perfectly, answering the kisses with your own. With a gruff groan, John presses you up against the closed door.

“John,” you mumble, pulling back slightly.

“How are you here?”

“I’m sorry. We had to. It was the only way to extract me safely.”

John presses his forehead to yours, breathing you in. “Never again. Promise me.”

“Promise, John.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

One. Two. Three.

The seconds tick by, and still, Kyle refuses to move. For the last two weeks, Kyle has been cold and distant, sitting in the recliner in the corner of the living room.

He doesn’t read, doesn’t return the numerous missed calls and text messages, and he doesn’t turn on the television. He just sits, staring off into space, unable to figure out where his life will go next.

Why you? Why are you gone and not him?

It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. You should be alive and whole and happy. You should be home, wrapped in Kyle’s arms.

Kyle sighs, running his hands over his face. An overwhelming wave of grief bubbles up, threatening to rip a sob from him. Leaning forward, Kyle rests his elbows on his knees, cradling his face in his hands. He takes a deep, shuddering breath. The wave crashes against his resolve, eroding some of the numbness.

The coffin is empty. No body to bury. He still hasn’t contacted your family. He can’t do it. Can’t face them. That fact that he is here and you are not is a failure on his part. Kyle promised that he’d look after you, and now you’re gone.

Around him, the air stirs—shifts. Kyle rubs at his face, sudden awareness slipping in. There’s an anticipation in it—a tension.

“Kyle.”

That voice. He knows that voice.

Shaking his head, Kyle keeps his face covered, his breathing becoming ragged.

“You’re not real,” he gasps.

Phantom fingers lightly brush across the back of palm, traveling to his wrist. Another set join them, and two warm hands gently wrap around his wrists. They tug, and Kyle surrenders, glancing up at the delusion his consciousness is creating.

Your smile is a beacon in the dark. It is everything he’s dreamed up these aching days, only wanting to see you again. And this is no dream, this is the waking world—reality. Somehow, you are standing before him, grasping his wrists, smiling down at him with such happiness that Kyle doesn’t entirely understand how this could be possible.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Kyle.”

He’s standing, wrapping you up in his arms. There is no mistake. You are here. You are here.

Kyle murmurs your name over and over again like a mantra. He touches you everywhere, needing to know that every inch of you is real and not a figment of his imagination. You curl against him, tears forming, threatening to fall and stain your cheeks. Kyle kisses them away, grasping the sides of your face to steal your breath.

You melt beneath him, and Kyle’s only desire is to keep you near him, to relearn your every moan and whisper. He can get answers later. Later. Right now, you are here, you have returned to him, and that is enough.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny made the choice, and now he has to live with the consequences.

It’s his own fault for caring about you, for deciding that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He should have found a civilian. That way they’d be mourning him and not him mourning you.

Three months and the missive still burns a hole in his chest. It’s folded up nicely, faded and worn from him unfolding and refolding it, tucked into an inside pocket beneath his bulletproof vest. It’s right over his heart. Right where you should be. Right where you belong.

The missive doesn’t belong to Johnny. It’s addressed to Captain Price, but the man handed it over to him, because he knew—even though Johnny did his best to hide it. He didn’t want to share what he had with you with anyone. That was just for the two of you.

“You all right, Soap?”

Simon’s voice cuts through the static.

“I’m aces, Lt. Don’t worry about me.”

The words feel false on Johnny’s tongue. He hates lying—but he especially hates lying to Simon.

Even behind the balaclava, Johnny can sense Simon’s frown. But the big bloke says nothing, appearing content with his answer.

“Price wants you in Conference Room B.”

“Now?” asks Johnny. “We’re supposed to transfer out in a few.”

Simon shrugs. “He didn’t say much. Just said he needed to talk to you before we leave.”

Johnny sighs but he goes, patting Simon’s arm before jogging to one of the main buildings. It’s inconvenient—and Price could have just met him on the fucking tarmac.

“What do you need, Captain?” says Johnny, pushing open the door.

Captain Price stands just inside the doorway. And he’s not alone.

At first, Johnny doesn’t understand. It’s like all but one singular bulb has been extinguished, the remaining light illuminating the one ghost in the room. Because that’s what you are. A ghost. Unreal and ethereal. Not reality at all but a simple hope in the back of Johnny’s mind that has finally blossomed into delusion.

“Soap.” Price’s voice is gruff. He sighs and then takes a step away from you. “I’ll leave the two of you to it.”

He brushes past Johnny, lightly squeezing his shoulder as he makes his exit.

And Johnny does not move. He stands in the doorway like a bloody git, unable to understand how you’re standing before him.

You’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead.

Your smile is hesitant at first, your movements even more so. It’s a tentative walk to him, and you don’t touch, you only gaze at him, eagerness and hope in your eyes.

“Johnny,” you breathe, and he knows that voice.

So crisp and clear and real.

Johnny reaches out, and pinches. He pinches your arms, your waist, your cheeks.

“Ow,” you laugh. “What the hell?”

You are not cold, but warm. Solid.

Johnny laughs in disbelief. “Had to make sure I wasn’t dreaming.”

Your arms go around him and suddenly, like a firework bursting with color, Johnny is happy and whole.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon shuts the front door and frowns.

Whenever Simon comes home, Bravo always greets him. The all-black German Shepherd is a singular ball of energy, turning in quick circles and tap tap tapping his paws against the hardwood in anticipation of back scratches and belly rubs.

For the past week, Bravo’s presence has been the one bright thing, the only bit of happiness keeping Simon going. The rest of it was snatched from him, torn apart and shattered, scattered to the wind. The letter is tucked inside the drawer of the bedside table. He only read it once. And once was enough.

You are dead. That’s what the letter says anyway. And it infuriates him more than anything. Every mission you’ve ever been on has been with Simon. Except this last one. And on this last one, you did not come home.

“Bravo!” shouts Simon, dropping his keys in the designated spot next to the front door.

Removing his coat, he hangs it up, and then kicks off his sneakers. Sighing loudly, Simon heads down the hall but Bravo does not emerge. Simon pokes his head into the living room and finds no dog. Kitchen, and still nothing. He even checks the backyard. No Bravo.

As Simon turns into the bedroom, he comes to an abrupt halt.

There’s Bravo on the bed, and sitting on the edge—

“You—”

You hold the letter in your hands, attention turning to Simon as he enters. Standing quickly, you extend the arm holding the letter while you bring a singular finger to your lips, implying silence.

Simon’s stomach flips, and then twists quickly. He moves across the room a couple strides, grasping your waist and pulling you close. He says nothing, only searching your face as you keep that finger pressed to your lips.

You flip the letter over to the blank side.

Compromised.

Everything clicks into place. Either you faked your death or someone lied.

Simon cups the side of your face as you drop your finger away from your lips. His mouth replaces, tasting and seeking, wanting to remember. You open for him, accepting it all. His hands tighten on your waist and it takes every ounce of Simon’s control to not throw you onto the bed and rut like an untamed beast.

But he does refrain.

Simon has the car loaded and the alarm system armed in ten minutes. Even on the road, Simon doesn’t speak. He’s not sure if he can. All he does is keep his hand on your thigh, squeezing tightly, attempting to ground himself and keep his focus on the road.

At the safehouse, Bravo takes off, running through the tall grass as you and Simon enter the barn through a small side door. The moment the bags are dropped onto the floor, Simon is on you, fisting your clothes, tugging at them in a need to seem them gone.

“Simon,” you groan against his mouth.

He wants answers. He needs to know what happened. But reconnecting with you is far more urgent.

“After,” he begs. “Please.”

You nod, understanding.

The two of shed your clothes quickly, falling onto the sofa in a tangled heap. Simon’s hand delves between, fingers finding your arousal. You’re ready for him—just as eager as he his. He makes no gentle effort, just a quick thrusts until he’s in to the hilt. Your brief gasp is swallowed up by his mouth, tongue delving inside for a taste as he starts to thrust.

This is what he needs. More than anything.

Talking can come after.

taglist:

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[beloveds-embrace]

More roomate!au thoughts because, again, my brain never stops. When you move in with them, dont expect to be able to do anything by yourself ever again (unless its housework and their away), your car needs fuel? Dont worry Simon will go with you and fill it up for you and dont even think about trying to pay for it yourself, you tried once and Simon just glared at you so you tucked your card back into your purse. You need to go get a few supplies for college, Price and Gaz are joining you and giving their opinions about the best laptop to get or the best stationary (they fill out enough paperwork that they know the best ones). You're cooking them dinner, Johnnys right by your side following your every order and helping to wash up while you go relax on the sofa waiting for whatevers in the oven. And you will want for nothing, you see a pair of shoes you want while out shopping but their outside of your price range, they arrive at your door a week later just after the boys deploy, you see a pretty necklace on TV and comment on it, Johnnys there behind you fastening it just before your next night out. You lament that your mattess and bed are uncomfortable, a new one arrives the next and it just so happens to be big enough to fit all 5 of you on it.

Yeah, the boys would 1000% give you princess treatment

My mind is still on that drabble so i absolutely love this so so so very much god yes….

Original post

It doesn’t end there, of course. God, they do so, so much for you.

It’s Simon who stands right outside the bathroom door when you get sick late at night, trying to be quiet and not bother anyone yet when you tell him he should go to sleep, you’ll be fine, he doesn’t even let you finish your sentence.

“Don’t need sleep,” he grunts, pulling you against his body. Despite your protests, his warmth alone makes you melt. “Jus’ tell me what you need.”

It’s Gaz who gifts you with a surprise spa day kit after he notices how exhausted you look during your exams, gently pushing aside your laptop. “You look knackered, lovie,” he murmurs. “Let me take care of you, alright? You always spoil us when we return anyways, this the least we can do.”

It’s Johnny who immediately knows your day has been shit just from listening the way you shuffle in, shoulders slumped and head downcast.

“Someone steal yer sunshine, hen?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it, Johnny,” you mumble tiredly, yet you have no energy to refuse when he leads you to the couch. “Bad day. I’ll just go to my room-“

“Nah, none o’ that,” he shakes his head, taking your bag. “Sit down, aye? I’ll fix you up something warm.” Though he makes sure to drap a blanket over yours shoulders before he goes into the kitchen, muttering about food.

It’s Price who goes hand in hand with your safety. All of them do make you feel safe but John is just- a bit different.

Once, you were being followed after you finished shopping and like an idiot, you’d forgotten your usual pepper spray you carried. You knew you were being followed because you could feel the eyes constantly on you and you circled the same area several times. Your hands are shaking when you text him, praying to every god-

- john

- Yes, love?

You are too afraid to even crack a smile at his serious punctuation.

- someones following me idk what to d

You don’t wait for him to reply. Just nervously, with too many typos, you tell him where you are and if please can he come or any of the men-

When John appears by your side in no less than five minutes, he just pulls you close to his side.

“Come on, sweetheart.” He ushers you along. “Bloke’s been dealt with. Give me your backs, yeah? Next time tell me or any of the muppets to join you.”

Too late you notice the blood splatters on his knuckles.

Also, remember when I said the original ad had been because they wanted someone to keep the place tidy when they are away? That doesn’t apply when they are home. If they see you cleaning or cooking, they are helping- nu uh, no complaints allowed, they are not about to let you slave away when you have four very capable men at your beck and call.

Hell, once it was Johnny who saw you scrubbing the kitchen floors and he just picked you up and placed you on the counter, tsking at you.

In a few hours, John returned to find all of them cleaning the kitchen; Soap was now dusting, Gaz vaccuming, and Simon wiping the counters.

And you were bundled in the couch corner, cozy and cute.

“What’s all this?” He asked, an eyebrow raised, and you shrug.

“She was tryin’ to clean.” Johnny grumbled from the corner.

“And you didn’t stop her sooner?”

“Bloody stubborn bird,” Ghost was the one who replied this time, not even looking up.

You opened your mouth to argue, but the look John fixed you with made you shut your mouth with a click.

“Good girl.”

The warmth on your cheeks was definitely not from overworking, at least.

You mention needing new clothes? You wake up to Simon’s credit card on your nightstand with a note ordering you to use it. “Strangely”, you can’t find neither your own card nor your wallet.

You also can’t find him, but Kyle’s there and oh wow! He has nothing to do so he will in fact be joining you (and making you model the dresses and outfits and send pictures to the others so you can be drowned in compliments)!

Also i like to hc that john(s) are both huge coffee lovers and they do in fact have those huge, fancy coffee machines yk? They are insulted when they see you drink the cheap, shitty, tasteless instant coffee you are surviving on and from then on, you will wake up every day to warm, fresh coffee made for you <33

Anyways gods i love them sm can you tell 😩😩

[ay0nha]

Don't Bite the Hand That Feeds | Lucius Verus Aurelius

SUMMARY: "Your brethren trust you, you are the embodiment of redemption.” They spoke around Lucius, spewing anything in hopes of saturating his mind.  “Where is your image of hope? Where is the person who will relieve you of the grief you share with your people? Where is your Empress?"

PAIRING: Lucius Verus Aurelius x f!reader (arranged marriage for political reasons)

WORD COUNT: 2.4K

WARNINGS: canon-typical things, not much, mentions of alcohol, old-timey language, Google-accurate Roman empire things, dancing, arranged marriage, talks of lineage, angsty-ish, quotes from various people like Nina Simone and Octavia Butler sprinkled into dialogue,  etc. 

A/N:  I quickly wrote this in a few days with the amazing help of @astrd00. This is just sort of an introduction to my fic idea so apologies if it's a little boring. Arranged marriage trope sort of colleagues to friends to lovers. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged for future parts. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE comment it really helps me to keep going! More to come, enjoy!

The Latin translates to: a water drop hollows a stone, not by force but by frequent falling.

Everyone clung to the fog of death in the air with stiff fingers, unwilling to let their proof of newly promised freedom go. They celebrated in the streets, disregarding the savagery that occurred only months ago. The public enjoyed the amnesia, looking to Lucius not solely for responsibility but as a new object to place culpability. 

Yet, the heaviness permeated Lucius’ marrow. He hid it well behind the mask of authority. Even a sharp eye would miss the way it restrained him, intentionally ignorant of a flaw in their new leader.

It might have even been seen as a strategic move, a way to humanize the gladiator who seemed to defy the Gods. Strategy outside the arena was new, different from the portrayed brute that dusted his hands with sand. What lay in his palms now was similar to that of a child’s heart, beating rapidly with a not-yet-known burden of life. It was heavy and warm, begging for unwavering loyalty from its possessor. 

Lucius remained delicate with his hold, but the heart wanted more from him. Strength and honor would soon no longer suffice. It needed sustenance worthy of devotion and destruction. His eyes were steady on this phantom heart until those around him required his attention. 

“Emperor—” A magistrate repeated, voice raising enough to tease an echo. The new title sat heavily on Lucius’ shoulders, contorting his body into a position that mimicked Atlas.   “Our suggestion should not be taken lightly, it is for the prosperity of your Rome.”

Scrutiny wasn’t found in his tone or bitterness behind the remark but rather in genuine regard. However, there was an intention behind the ownership of Rome, a hint at the generational promise.  

“The public can wonder, speculate, but they do not see beyond the issue.” He continued, watching the twitch on Lucius’ face. “You may not like the mere thought, but gutta cavat lapidem, non vi sed saepe cadendo.” The magistrate paused, his words lingering. “How much longer until Rome is hollow once again?”

“This order is a fallacy.” Lucius finally made contact, eyes surveying those around him. “There is a need for trust, yes. And yet, you ask for deception?” 

“You misunderstand us, Emperor.” Another member of the senate spoke, hoping to alleviate tension. “There would be no deception in this union, only fortification of the reigning; an image for the people to find themselves in.”

 “Your brethren trust you, you are the embodiment of redemption.” They spoke around Lucius, spewing anything in hopes of saturating his mind.  “Where is your image of hope? Where is the person who will relieve you of the grief you share with your people? Where is your Empress?”

—

You smiled through the wine-fueled chattering of the ceremony, appeasing those who had just witnessed your union, but your focus moved beyond the conversation and revelry.  Above you was a darkened sky that mimicked night. Rain poured down, tempting you to fall prey to its numbing hold. 

The Gods are favoring your union, you were told when the sky opened. Divine intervention.  

But you knew the Gods were fickle, always testing your will against temptation. It was a test sent for you, one that an elaborate wedding and an emperor declaring your shared existence hid well. 

So you ignored the call of the humidity, being dutiful to your new role as empress. People bowed to you and nearly cried at how beautifully you paired with your new counterpart. Even as you sat on the marble throne beside Lucius you couldn’t deny their exactness. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll soon pass out from the wine.” You spoke softly, eyes ahead at your guests as you spoke to your husband. His grip on your hand fidgeted exposing his anxiety.  

Lucius paused, determining if honesty was worthwhile. His self-awareness was enough to remind him how unfamiliar he was with the environment that consumed his senses. 

“It is for them.” You nodded ahead to the crowd. The room was hot from the amount of bodies swirling around.   “Remind yourself of this when their faith falters.”

Lucius looked at you, attention trained on your profile. Even with a soft veil over your features, you were so absolute. 

“I know my purpose here. You are still learning yours.” You continued. “All I ask of you is that when they falter you place your trust in our bond.”

“I will place it where it is due.” There was your gladiator. The defiance comforted you. 

“Those around you are untroubled by that; all they crave is to spit on the fallen. It doesn’t matter if you are one of them, they are quick to turn.” You sharpened. “Be careful; join the sinful and you will be remembered with spite and desperation.”

You spoke of hidden things, of politics that lingered like venom in the bloodstream of the empire. Lucius knew not to mistake your words for ulterior motives. You were direct in your vows to further his image of a new Rome, it was why you were chosen to be by his side. Your mind was clear. You read the room perfectly, unraveling every detail of what was inherited. 

“My legacy does not motivate me,” Lucius stated. His ears attuned to you and you only, enraptured in how deeply you spoke as if it was a common thought. “I will not look to them for fame.” 

“You will, conscious or not. And once you do, you will not be able to look away.” You smiled pitifully as though you knew something he didn’t. “Just as they watched you fight, you misunderstand the impact of what is before you.”

“You believe that little of me?” There was a swirl of censure in his chest despite the small smile pulling at his lips.  

“There is opportunity to win, but that is a fool’s goal—

“To win?” Lucius scoffed. “Even you have been mislead, then. Thinking that there is a conquest waiting to happen.”

“I do not wish to insult you.” Your thumb adjusted against his fingers. It was in your nature to be candid, but at times you placed your frustrations unfairly. You softened. “Your promise of growth will help amend this.”

Lucius wished to pull away from you. He needed to think, to be separated from the feigned festivities adjoined to love. This was love; love created not between two people, but shared by you and him for Rome. 

That was not to say you were birds of a feather. 

Your strengths were found in your experience. Although young, you were no novice to how to hold your chin high while delivering truths to the senate. You learned from your uncle, an official who raised you on the true meaning of government. You were clever. The public viewed you as such. You were of noble status and fit to stand before them. 

What you lacked was a specific connection that Lucius brought to the people. He was one of them, raised humbly, hands worn from the earth’s harvest and war forced upon him. Lucius spoke well to them, building comradery with every way of life. 

“I would never ask you to compromise your beliefs. I know better than to think you’d behave.” You teased at his rebellion, hoping the guard that was up would calm. “Besides, a well-mannered lover is an offense.”

 “We are not lovers.” It was sterile in tone but revealed emotions long since buried.

“And we are not enemies.” You were quick, reading between his words to find the insult. 

“My lord!” A raspy voice begged for attention. “My lady!” 

You stood, bowing politely to the affluent man before you. He took advantage of the night; jewels adorned every finger that pulled at the elaborate fabric of his outfit. 

“It is time.” The rasp withered when he lowered to speak to you directly. His arms went wide as if inviting a hug, but he spun skillfully to face the audience. 

“Time?” Lucius looked to you. 

The man boomed over the forgotten rain. ““It is time!” 

Standing, you didn’t release Lucius’ hand. There was resistance on his end, wanting to remain sedentary and silent to wait out the rest of the night. 

“Our dance.” You answered to his wide eyes. Your guests cheered, clearing space. “It is customary to rise together and move as one. It will complete the ceremony.”

He rose at your words, not much of a choice otherwise than to follow. 

The fabric of your dress swam behind you, kissing the floor with each step toward the middle of the marble floor. The dress looked like water cascading down your body, hiding each bend and swell of your body. Yet, it highlighted something else, something deeper. It was subtle but powerful, like the way a garden seemed to breathe life into a space. 

“May the rain create a river to fertility.” The man held a contagious grin that spread around the room. 

Prosperity and posterity.  This is what they wanted. Lucius alone was not enough. The bloodline was more important than a single figure. It hadn’t needed to be discussed as it was the obvious forethought for your unification. 

The officials of the republic were more concerned about your fecundity and frame than the knowledge you held. It was a typical belief, one that you expected. Your fingers itched to bring your willingness to support the new decree to play and if this was your path to it, so be it.  

You remained clinical at the thought. It was a means to an end rather than something to be meditated on. The way Lucius hardened at the man’s words told a story from another perspective where the political became personal. You did not miss the ring on his pinky that rubbed against a new gold one. 

“Does the great gladiator know how to dance?” Your voice flowed to Lucius only knowing the opportunity rarely presented itself. 

The music shifted from something fast-paced to something more melodic that would encourage you both to move swiftly but attractively. You knew your words would hit a nerve, but it was strategic to motivate Lucius’ hesitant hands. 

“It is a back and forth. A push and pull.” You guided your hand to press against his palm, meeting together as if you were to pray. “Just like the arena, no?”

Lucius’ eyebrows pinched together. Not out of curiosity or frustration. He was genuine in his response. 

“Rarely is a touch this…subdued.” Soft.  

“Shall I spin you in circles, then?” Your painted lips were easier to see now that Lucius was close. He saw as they rose through your veil with the quip. “Disorientate you to the point of submission?”

Your arms weaved behind your back still connected to Lucius’. The dance was simple, one practiced as children. There were very few steps and wistful gestures that even the familiar still enjoyed. 

“Those are my only options? Coercion or blind fealty.” 

It left little room for interpretation or defiance. The statement came without hesitation but held pent-up sentiment veiled by familiar poise. You vetted his blank gaze for proper determination of his upset. 

It was odd to see Lucius so close, your memory had failed to cast such a strong light on him. Once overgrown hair had been trimmed to only curl at the nape of his neck. Dirt was cleared from every line of his face.  He was still rugged, but you saw through the exterior to find a boy.  

A boy who had been stripped of child-like wonderment and care. Instead, he held his broad shoulders high and an expression that lingered from his exile. Lucius’ skin perked every time your dress acted as a barrier between the two of you, a warning that whatever you offered had to be earned.  

“I do not ask much of you, Emperor...” You put it simply, knowing your worth and wisdom. You needed to be promised his word that against anything you would be beside each other.  “...so I will not ask again.”

“You are not satisfied with the trust of the marriage alone,” Lucius stated his question like an observation. “You wish I promise myself to you in ways which I may not be able to provide.” 

“Able or willing?” 

Your faces were close, noses mirroring each other as you turned on beat.  You could feel the warmth of your frustration start in your chest, only to spread across your skin as goosebumps.  

“The past and the future press so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.” You spoke again before he could answer.  “You must decide where you belong.” 

The music returned to Lucius’ ears. Its melody weighed down your words, letting them settle deeply in his mind. His head spun with thoughts busy on reasoning.  Perhaps he was too guarded for his own good, but he’d gotten himself this far relying only on himself. He had held in a great deal. Often he felt he couldn't speak until the waters overflowed their banks and broke through the dam. 

Those around him garnered support, but this was different. You understood what freedom was; it meant no fear. Fear rolled right off of you. Fear was like a pet to you: something you picked up to get a better look at but that you soon grew tired of.

The music slowed coming to an end. Lucius removed his hands from your body but didn’t venture far. His calloused fingertips followed the seam of your soft veil to meet the laced end. Once there, he gently revealed your true manner. 

Your features were accentuated by an internal glow. There was no modesty in your gaze, it shattered any notion of strength. There was no insight into your emotions. What Lucius found was someone gifted. It was a marvel he hadn’t heard of you until you presented yourself as the wise option for him to marry. 

Although you ran in many circles, your name wasn’t whispered among the council. They didn’t believe beauty and wit could fit within the reach of a woman. Yet, here you stood. A new challenge to be accepted. Lucius resisted the urge to swallow quick breaths as if he were going to endure a blow from Viggo. His body agitated in preparation, but looking at you so wholly all he could muster was concession.

 “You have my word.”

[pynkfairyheart]

hiii so I saw you said request were open! i really LOVE your writing so yk yk i had to ask but can you do like a story where ony does a being mean to my girlfriend prank but y/n is a reallll crybaby!! BYEE

pairings: onyankopon x sensitive!reader

warnings: smut 18+, ony is a lil mean, reader cries a lil bit

a/n: so sorry it took me this long, life has been....lifing.

What goes around comes around

Actions have consequences, you knew this and yet you still decided to go with your plan.

Setting up your phone you smiled into the camera and started your intro.

“Hi, lovelies. Today we’re gonna do a get ready with me, while I tell you three reasons it's okay to cheat on your boyfriend.” 

Taking a quick glance in the mirror of your vanity, you could see the wheels working overtime in the handsome head that belonged to your boyfriend.

The decision on whether to be calm or tweak out playing tug of war on his brain. 

Settling on the thought that he misheard you he decided to go the calm route.

“Whatchu say, baby?” Deep voice contrasting against the soft tone of Jhene Aiko in the quiet room.

“Hmm?” You feigned innocence as you met his eyes in the mirror.

“I asked, ‘What did you say?’ ” His straightening posture and tone transition to demanding letting you know his patience was thinning by the second.

You were positive this would end with you folded in half, crying from overstimulation as he continuously ripped orgasm after orgasm from you. The thought only excited you and fueled your response. 

With a shrug of your shoulders you hummed a quick ‘I don't know’ and went back to your task.

“The fuck you mean youn know?” He chuckled in disbelief, hand running over his freshly maintained waves before coming down to rub the lower half of his face.

Opting to ignore him, you continued along with your routine, silently. 

“So you just gon ignore me?” Heavy thuds bouncing off the walls as he made his way to stand behind you.

The light pressure applied to your neck, as he tilted your head back having your thighs clench.

Oh, how you wanted to ditch the plan and jump his bones. Brown eyes glaring down into yours, as he tightened his grip. 

Feeling a little risky you decided to do the one thing Ony hates most. Roll your eyes.

“Mmm, aight” He nodded his head. Zero fucks given to the content you were creating as he lifted you from your chair and bent you over.

Never once slowing his assault even after you managed to tell him it was a prank through your moans and cries. 

The new information only encouraging him to go faster as your arousal trickled onto the wood floors while he required you to tell the camera why it wasn't okay to cheat on your boyfriend as he fucked you dumb. 

Usually, your consequences consisted of the audacity being fucked out of you whenever you did something to piss Ony off, but this time he decided to play a prank of his own.

Waiting a week to execute his plan, he chose to carry it out the day you came back from your girl's weekend. 

“You didn't hear me or get my texts?” A small pout forming on your glossy lips as you sat next to him, despite him taking up more than half of the bed. 

“Baby, I'm home” You sang as you wandered around the house looking for him.

Only to find him laid out on the bed as he watched an episode of Judge Mathis.

“I did” Eyes trained on the TV.

“Did something happen?” You gripped his jaw, forcing him to finally look at you.

“Nah, I just don’t feel good.” He removed your hand from his face and moved to the opposite side of the bed. 

“You need me to make you some soup?” Pout returning to your lips as he flinched away when you tried to check his temperature. 

“I’m good. You could leave me alone though.” 

You considered yourself to be very understanding when it came to relationships. Whether it was with family, a coworker, or a client, but more than anything when it came to your relationship with Ony. You understood he needed time to himself just as you did, but the way he said it was just… mean.

The stinging sensation of your eyes was becoming unbearable as the tears pooled in the inner corners of your eyes.

“Oh” Voice cracking despite swallowing the lump that lingered in your throat.

Your tone raised alarms in the man. His own heart gained a pace that matched yours as he saw the tears that began to spill from your eyes. 

“Wait, I'm sorry, ma. I was just playing. C'mere” Hand reaching out to hold you, only to pause when you flinched away from him.

“Mama, it was just a prank. I'm sorry, baby” Panic rising at the influx of tears flowing from your eyes. 

Seeing you cry from any negative emotion always pained him, but knowing he was the reason for the tears falling from your pouty face made him feel as if he failed in life.

“What do you mean it's a prank Onyankopon?” You huffed, the palm of your hand wet as you wiped away your tears. 

“I was just joking. You know how you did that video last week? I was doing something similar. I didn't mean to hurt you, mama. Please believe me” He pleaded.

Maybe it was the immense amount of love you had for him or that it'd be wrong to not forgive him when he put up with all your antics, but you couldn't stay mad at him for too long.

“You really need to work on your pranks. They're terrible” Pink satin pillow softly hitting him along the side of his head. 

“I know, I'm sorry, c'mere” He smiled, happy you were no longer crying and motioned for you to straddle him.

Caring less about the fact you were wearing a dress you crawled over to him, getting comfortable on his lap as you traced the small tattoo of your name behind his ear,

“You know you're gonna have to make it up to me right?”

“Mhm” He mindlessly hummed, eyes trained on your lips before he could no longer resist.

Low groan escaping his chest as he pulls you closer, tongue tracing your bottom lip before diving into your mouth.

“Ony” You whimpered as his lips moved down to your neck, peppering gentle kisses along your skin before sucking on the areas that made you weak. Your body craving for some sort of friction as you ground your hips down onto his.

“I know, mama” He murmured. His fingers sliding up your dress before slipping past the waistband of your panties, digits immediately coming into contact with the slick that was pooling in between your chubby thighs.

“Lil ma already soaked for me” He groaned against your warm skin. A small bruise forming where he was previously sucking. 

“Ony, stop teasing” You whined as he slowly rubbed your clit, the pads of his fingers barely grazing the bud.

With a slight smirk on his lips his fingers gravitated to your entrance, slowly rubbing at the pulsing hole before his fingers worked their way into your walls.

Fingers knuckles deep as he curled them against the soft spongy flesh against your walls. 

“Need you inside now” You pouted, craving something more than the two digits plunging in and out of you.

“Yeah?” He mumbled as he pulled out his fingers. Placing the pads on your tongue as you sucked your arousal off his digits, just as you would do his cock.

Watching you with lust filled eyes he removed his fingers from your mouth, and wrapped a hand around your neck before pulling you in for a nasty kiss. His tongue exploring the path down your throat while you rocked against the growing bulge in his pants.

Pulling away to fumble with the waistband of his pants he pulled down his sweats just enough to release his throbbing cock. Standing tall with his viens prominent and tip leaking a small amount of precum.

“Ride your dick, ma” He pulled your panties to the side rubbing his tip along the slick folds of your puffy pussy, before lining up with your entrance and helping you sink down onto him. Hiss escaping him as your warm walls engulfed him.

“Ony s'so big" You whined in his ear. Allowing him to lift you up and down his cock at a deliciously slow pace, your walls contracting around him at every movement.

“Doing so good fa me.” Two toned lip stuck in between his pearly white teeth as he bucked his hips up to meet your thrust, tip grazing against your cervix.

“Fuck. Faster, daddy, please” You gasped, head resting in his neck as he did all of the work.

Listening to your plea, he picked up his pace, thrusting deeper into you. The sound of your pooling arousal, slapping flesh, and your mixed moans filling the room, atmosphere becoming nastier by the second. 

“I love you so fucking much” His arms wrapping tightly around your waist as you tried to run when he increased his pace.

“Say it back, ma” He grunted. Palm landing on the flesh of your ass.

Tired off your running, his hands gripped your hips and he pulled you off him, flipping you over onto your back before ramming back into you.

“Ohh, shit, Onyyy” You cried, knees near your ears as he pushed your legs back.

"Say it or I'm stopping" He threatened. Eyes focused on your sopping pussy sucking him in, sticky ring of arousal dripping from the base of his cock.

“I- mhmph love you too Ony, so much” Bed creaking under the speed and force of his thrust.

Releasing your legs he leaned down, lips immediately on yours in a sloppy kiss. 

“I'm so close, pa" A mixture of moans and whimpers escaped your agape mouth, nails digging into his back with every thrust.

“Mhm, I know, baby. Let go for me” He grunted, reaching between your bodies to rub his thumb against your clit.

A series of curses left your mouth as you creamed around him. Walls contracting so tightly that he had no other choice but to cum.

“Fuuuck” He groaned, hips stilling inside you as he flooded your walls.

“I'm sorry for making you sad, baby. I love you so much, I'll never do anything to hurt you again” He whispered into your neck.

“I know Ony, I forgive you"

Pulling out he kissed you once more before laying flat in front of you, your thighs on each side of his head.

"Lemme show you how sorry I am, yeah?"