#so i will soon have short orange hair

[villainology]

omg yeah here’s a picture of my new hair bc I haven’t shown anyone my hair the last two times 👉🏻👈🏻

[pleasureable]

Pink Goes Well with Purple

Summary - After entering in a series of death games, a popstar fallen from grace finds comfort in a certain purple haired stranger.

Warnings - mentions of reader having pink hair (hence the title lol), ooc Thanos?, bad writing, please excuse any grammatical errors, this is pretty short

A/N - this is my first ever attempt at writing fanfiction for a character so I know this story might be hot ass, I just really wanted to jump on the Thanos bandwagon since he's one of my favs from this season and there's not enough fics on here for him to quench my thirst lol

Once a universally loved popstar, the emotional distress caused by the separation from your ex-boyfriend caused you to fall down a rabbit hole of sex and drugs, not to mention the $70,000,000 lawsuit you were slapped with after punching a paparazzi for putting his camera just a tad bit too close to your face. The heavy fallout from the legal battle was enough to make the whole world turn its back on you. Essentially blacklisted from the industry as a whole, you were desperate to rebuild your image (or at least get your money back) in any way you possibly could.

That's when you were approached by a man in a suit offering you $100,000 if you beat him in a game of ddakji. Managing to win 2 out of the 3 games played, you were given your $200,000 as promised by the suit-clad man standing before you.

"You know, I have a simple solution to your debts." he said. You were confused as to how he knew you had debts, you didn't recall mentioning your financial situation to him, at all. You tried to brush his comment off, maybe he had seen your name in a tabloid mentioning your lawsuit somewhere and he recognized you.

"How do you know I'm in debt?"

No answer, he just pulled a card out of the inside pocket in his suit and handed it to you. "We don't have many spots left so if you're interested, please call us as soon as possible." Then, he was gone.

You spent the rest of the day looking at the brown business card given to you, you took notice of the shapes that were on the front of it. The simplistic design of the card was weirdly intriguing. On the back, a phone number. On one hand, you didn't want to be wasting your time. On the other hand, you needed money in order to rebuild your life. So, this could either be the biggest scam or the biggest blessing of your entire life.

Fuck it, you dialed.

You didn't really know it at the time, but that phone call would unleash a chain of events that would change your life, forever.

That's how you winded up in the situation you were in now. Transported to a room designed to simulate a courtyard, a giant doll on the other side of the room.

Suddenly, you heard a voice come up from behind you, "Hey señorita" the deep voice spoke. Turning your head around, your eyes were met with the sight of a tall, purple haired man. "Knew I recognized that pretty pink hair from somewhere. You're that singer that socked that paparazzi guy in the face; Y/N, right?"

"Yes, Y/N. Who are you?" I said back. "You don't know who I am?" He said, a twinge of pretend hurt in his voice. "Am I supposed to?" You always had a slight dislike for people who expected everyone to know who they were. Clearly, this guy was one of those people.

"No, but we can get to know each other. Tell me about yourself, beautiful."

"Are you flirting with me?" a slight smirk began to form on your face. While his attitude was a bit off-putting, he was pretty cute.

"Yo, pink hair, you're so fine

like a bouquet of flowers, all intertwined

You're the rose to my thorn, the petal to my stem

Red, orange, yellow, green

I'm a legend, Thanos"

You giggled at his comically bad attempt at freestyling. "Thanos, huh? I guess that would explain the purple hair. Although, you're not as hideous as the titan."

"I'll take that as a compliment, petal."

Masked men wearing pink jumpsuits began to round up every other person who was dressed in the same blue-green sweatsuit as you and Thanos; you did a quick head count, confirming the amount of people to be about 400. Once a female voice on the intercom explained that you were all going to participate in a game of Red Light Green Light, the big robotic doll began to recite the games' chant.

Red light, a bee had landed on the neck of the girl standing in front of Thanos while the doll was scanning the room for movement. ''There's a bee on you, don't freakout." Instantly, the girl began to swat at her neck in an attempt to get the insect off. While the scene unfolding was slightly amusing to watch, your heart felt like it had stopped once a single bullet pierced her forehead. Her blood had splattered onto Thanos's face, and you watched as his face dropped once her body hit the ground.

Green light, Thanos picked up his cross-shaped necklace and opened it, revealing an array of colorful, circular pills. "Want one, petal? They'll help you relax." Red light, you stood still while staring at the pills in his hands; you had been clean for a little over 3 months now, but pill popping had never sounded better. "Fuck it, give me one."

Green light, he quickly placed a blue colored pill in your hand then grabbed an orange pill for himself. He grabbed your hand and started to lead you both further across the courtyard. Immediately, you began to feel the effects of the mysterious pill you had just ingested. As you continued to advance through the game, your vision became nothing but a colorful kaleidoscopic blur. The sudden energy burst allowed you and Thanos to quickly cross the red finish line, jumping, dancing, and twirling together on the way there.

After the game was over, the remaining players were all taken back to the room where your bunk beds were. You and Thanos were standing against a wall together, giggling at seemingly nothing. "Stick with me from now on, petal. I'll protect you." He said, finishing his statement off with a playful wink. "THE Thanos wants to protect me? Wow, I'm so fucking lucky" you chuckled. "I'm serious! I wouldn't want anything to happen to my flower now, would I?"

You just looked at him with a slight smile. His nickname for you made you blush, your cheeks taking on a subtle hue that matched your hair. He had such a way with words, you couldn't help but be totally charmed by him. "Fine then, let's team up. Thanos the Mad Titan and Y/N, Popstar Fallen from Grace; world's greatest duo." Your words made him smile like an idiot. He loved your company already.

"Of course we're the world's greatest duo. Pink goes well with purple, petal."

[lalunanymph]

I GET THOSE GOOSEBUMPS EVERYTIME

summary. your husband decides to take playtime to the next level

warnings. fem!reader, wife!reader, reader is pregnant, reader has children with sylus, reader is his submissive, teasing, orgasm denial, oral, nipple play, clit play, orgasm control, bdsm, bondage, panel gags, panty gags, petnames (good girl, doll, my love, my wife, darling, sweetie), sir kink, biting, edging, free use, mild exhibitionism, dirty talk, Dom/sub dynamics, begging, super indulgent and so self-ship coded :,)

The flickering vintage lamp spilling warm, orange light on his large, blackwood desk is the only accompaniment to Sylus’s late night work. 

His sharp ears, however, detect a hint of movement, and he looks up in time to find you standing by the doorway, hair mused and face still warm with sleep, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Mhm... love? You’re not asleep yet.”

Those crimson hues soften at the sight of his beloved wife, a surge of affection and warmth filling his chest.

“Did I wake you, doll?” 

A hint of amusement dances in his ruby gaze as you pout and pad over to him. Sylus doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist, dragging you onto his lap. Your head rests perfectly in the dip of his chest, your eyes slipping close to enjoy the warmth his broader body offered. 

He can faintly make out the small protrusion of your belly hiding underneath the silky black nightgown you wore that left little to the imagination. Your husband’s large hand strokes through your hair, and he leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know I cannot sleep if you’re not in the same bed as me,” your petulance earns a chuckle, Sylus’s blood red eyes twinkling.

“I have some documents to review and then I’ll be in bed soon with you, doll.”

But, you wouldn’t budge, stubbornly twining your arms around his neck, pressing your body flush against his. 

Your body heat seeps past the thin sleep robe he wore, straight into his skin which was tingling from your close proximity. 

“I think I’ll just take a doze here.”

“Are you sure, doll?” He exhales a short laugh. “It’s not exactly comfortable to sleep on me, but if you can wait for me to be done, I promise I will carry you back into the bedroom.”

You sigh, and shake your head. “I don’t think I can sleep, either.” A sly smile plays in the corners of your mouth, and Sylus feels a shiver of excitement running down his spine.

“Doll, are you saying what I think you’re saying…?”

No longer sleepy-eyed, you were awake and teasing, your hands pressing flat onto his broad chest. 

“Well, since we both can’t sleep…” You trail off, letting him fill in the blanks. Sylus did not disappoint, of course, just as sharp and keen as you are whenever it came to the matters of fulfilling your shared lust.

His hands came to wrap around your waist, sliding down to grip the bare skin of your exposed thighs. “Hmm, what do you have brewing in that devious mind, my beautiful, sexy wife?” 

You fight back a smile, pretending to be coy and demure. 

“Do you remember that night at the Eizer gala? Where you gagged me with my own panties in the bathroom while you took me there? Or, the beach when you tied me up before you collared me and made me yours in every way possible?” 

Sparks of heat light the base of his spine, your words instantly bringing to mind the memories of past carnal encounters which he holds dearly in his soul. 

Sylus grins, his eyes darkening with arousal at your words. He loves that you’ve been thinking about your previous play sessions, and the thought of having you bound and gagged again was incredibly arousing to him. He reaches out and gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Mhm… you’ve been thinking about that, haven’t you, doll? You want to be tied up and gagged again?” 

A tremor of excitement twists in your gut, tightening the band of arousal around your belly. 

“Yes, Sir. I want to completely submit my body to you again, Sir.”

Sylus’s grip on your chin tightens, his possessive fire roaring within him at your admittance. He loves it when you desire to submit completely to him, to give yourself over to him in every single way. 

“Mhm, that’s my good girl. And you’ll do exactly as I say, doll? You’ll allow me to do anything I want with your body?” 

You nod, your eyes drooping to half-mast from the desire thrumming in your veins. “Anything, Sir… anything you please. Hurt me, tease me… I want it all.” 

Sylus growls at your words, his mind racing with all the things he wants to do to you. He knew that he had to keep himself somewhat restrained, as you’re pregnant with his child, but he can still have you in so many different ways.

“Anything I please, doll? And you’ll be completely obedient and submissive like a good girl should?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you answer docilely. “Anything you want… I will be your good submissive.”

Sylus’s grip on your chin tightens, his carmine eyes boring into yours, his gaze dark and dangerous. 

“Mhm… I won’t go easy on you, my love. You need to understand that. If you give yourself completely to me, you’ll be completely at my mercy. There’s no backing out once we start. Are you sure you’re ready for that?” 

You bite on your lower lip, nodding eagerly. “Yes, Sir. I know what I want and what you can provide. I’m ready for it.” 

Sylus smirks, satisfied with your answer. 

“Then, I have something special planned for you, doll. I’ve purchased a surprise. Do you want to know what it is?” 

Your eyes shine with curiosity. “What is it, Sir?” 

Sylus releases your chin and leans back in his chair, a smug grin on his face.

“Mhm, doll, I’ve always wanted to try something new. I've been looking into some… equipment. Specialized handcuffs, designed for a specific reason.”

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers the next words: “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Your curiosity is at an all time high, the eagerness to uncover these new methods he had up his sleeve to torture and tease you driving you wild.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Sir.” 

Sylus’ grin grows wider as he watches you shiver with anticipation. He loves seeing your excitement, your eagerness to be at his mercy. 

“Doll, I know you’re going to enjoy this. But, first, we need to talk about safe words. Do you remember our rules of play?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you begin to recite the rules from the top of your head. “Red is for ‘stop’, yellow is for ‘slow down’ and green means ‘yes’.”

Sylus nods with approval, satisfied that you remember the rules. He knows it’s important to establish a system of communication, especially for situations like this. 

“Very good, doll. I’m glad you remember. And you’ll use them, right? You won’t hesitate to use a safeword if something becomes too intense or uncomfortable for you, correct?” 

His large palm rests on your belly, reminding you of this precious gift you’re carrying—his second son and third baby which he loves with his entire soul. Sylus would hate himself if something were to happen to you in the middle of playing that would unintentionally harm Dante. 

You nod, solemn and sure. “Yes, Sir.” 

Sylus moves his hand to rest on our face, his touch gentle but firm, his eyes locked on yours. 

“Good girl. Now, I have a few other rules for you. If you do something without my permission, or if you disobey me, I will punish you. Are you ready to hear the rules, doll?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you whisper, your heartbeat thudding with a mixture of dread and excitement.

Sylus can sense the contradicting emotions, his eyes darkening at your eagerness, the dark flame of dominance burning within him as he prepares to lay down the rules.

“Rule number one: you will not touch yourself. Do you understand?” 

You shiver at the demanding implications of his order, nodding. “Yes, Sir.” 

Sylus can’t help but to grin at your shiver, your body responding to his crisp command. He knows you’re excited and willing to submit to him. 

“Mhm, alright. Rule number two: you will remain submissive and obedient, following my every command. No hesitating, no questioning my authority. Do I make myself clear?” 

Again, you nod, growing restless on his lap, feeling the heat of his bigger body seeping into the skin of your split and bare thighs wrapped around his waist. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Sylus slides his hand down from your face to your neck, his fingers closing around your collar, tugging you closer to him. 

“Mhm, good girl. And rule number three: you will tell me exactly how you feel, doll. I want to know every bit of pleasure and pain I caused you. You will not hold back, and you will not be shy, understand?” 

This time your teeth find refuge in your lower lip, biting down on it to quell the mounting sexual tension threatening to squeeze the air from your lungs. 

“Yes, Sir… oh God, yes.” 

Sylus grins, his need to dominate growing stronger with each of your words, each shiver of your body. He can feel the power he has over you, the control he has over your body and mind. He’s addicted to it, the feeling of being able to control you completely.

“You’re being such a good girl, doll. But, there’s one more rule. One more important rule, doll. Do you know what it is?” 

“N-no, Sir.”

Sylus’s predatory smirk widens as he looks into your eyes, his hand still holding onto your collar, pulling you closer to him. He leans in, his lips nearly touching yours, his voice lowered to a rough, possessive whisper. 

“Rule number four, doll: you will follow all of my other rules, or I will punish you. And my punishments will not be gentle.”

Your agreement comes swiftly, born on the willingness of your eager nod. “Yes, Sir. I will follow all of your rules.” 

His ruby eyes gleam with satisfaction, hearing your words. He knows you’re ready to submit to him, to give up control, to be completely at his mercy. 

“That’s a good girl. Now, are you ready to try out your new equipment, doll?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He almost laughs at the excitement leaking through your tone, how your eyes are shining brightly with anticipation and lust.

Sylus opens a drawer under his desk, pulling out a set of handcuffs made of sturdy leather. He holds them up for you to see, the black bands connected to each other by a short chain.

“Here they are, doll. Specialized for this situation.”

You marvel at them, reaching out to graze a finger against the supple leather. “They’re beautiful, Sir.” 

He can’t help but grin at your words, the need to dominate you flaring the flames within him as he sees the eager submission in your eyes. He knows you’re excited to be bound by these handcuffs. 

“I thought you’d like them, doll. But, they’re not just designed to look beautiful. They’re also designed to be completely inescapable. There’s no wriggling out these handcuffs, doll. Once they’re on, they’re on.” 

Your breathing hitches, the idea of being completely bound and helpless at his mercy causing goosebumps to erupt across your body. 

“Will you gag me too, Sir? So we won’t accidentally wake up the twins.” 

Your babies are just down the hallway, sound asleep in their nursery and oblivious to the wicked games their parents are playing in daddy’s office. Since they’re starting to teeth, getting Sabrina and Protus to fall asleep was an endurance contest every night, and the idea of having to get up in the middle of playing to soothe them back to sleep daunts you. 

Sylus smirks, seeing the shiver of excitement run through your body as you ask about the gag. As if he can read your mind, he can tell what’s troubling you; how you’re eager for more and to be completely under his control.

“Yes, we wouldn’t want to ruin playtime tonight because I have so much in store for you, doll. You will be wearing this gag for the entire night. But, I won’t use a ball gag, my love. I have something much better.”

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you tilt your head to the side. “What is it, Sir?” 

Sylus moves his hand back to the top drawer of his desk, pulling out a slim, black device with a leather strap attached to the top. 

“It’s a special gag designed specifically for this kind of play, doll. It’s not a ball gag, it’s a panel gag. It’ll look more elegant on you, much more suited to a beautiful woman like you. And it’ll do a wonderful job of silencing your moans.”

Your eyes glimmer with wonder. “It’s beautiful, Sir. I love it. And the dildo insert—” you reach out to touch the phallic plastic protruding from behind the gag. “—that’s supposed to pin my tongue down, right?” 

Sylus’s smirk deepens at your enthusiasm, hearing the wonder and lust in your voice. He looks at you, feeling a shiver of desire run through him at knowing how much you want to be bound and silenced.

“You’re right, doll. The insert is to pin down your tongue, keeping you completely silenced and unable to speak. And the way it sticks out like that… it’ll look perfect on you, doll.”

“Mhm, like I’m sucking on something… naughty… while you have your way with me.” 

Sylus’s breath hitches at your words, the image you paint in his mind sending a wave of dark desire flowing through him. His eyes darken as he imagines you bound and gagged with the phallic panel gag, mouth stuffed full and completely at his mercy. His control is crumbling, the urge to fight back the need to stake his claim on your body weakening. 

“You’re being such a naughty tease, doll. So incredibly sexy with your words. You want to be my helpless plaything, don’t you?” 

You don’t help the urge from taking over him when you nod, meek and submissive. “Yes, Sir. I want to be controlled by you, Sir.” 

His ruby eyes darken with a dangerous gleam as the words leave your plush lips, the need to dominate and get you screaming for him burning hotter with each moment that passes. “Mhm, you’re mine, doll. Completely and utterly mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember that. Stand up, doll.” 

He gets up from the chair and guides you to the front of the desk, holding the gag and handcuffs in his hands.

“Time to get these on you, doll.”

You demurely get to your feet, fidgeting with your hands. But, before he puts you under his control, you want to do something for him. 

“Sir… can I strip for you?” 

Sylus’s breath trembles at your question, his eyes flicking down your body as he imagines you stripping for him, revealing your bare skin for his hungry gaze.

“... you want to strip for me, doll? You want to give me a show before I bind you and gag you?” 

His words elicit a dark wave of heat washing all over you, involuntarily making you moan softly.

“Yes, Sir. I want to make this good for you, too.” 

Sylus’s eyes darken with that all-consuming desire to claim you, a low growl escaping his chest as he looks at you with the fire of his immense heat. 

“Go ahead then, doll. Show me how much you want to be bound by me.” 

He sets the handcuffs and gag down on the desk, then crosses his arms and leans back against the edge of his desk, watching you with a heated gaze. He looks devilishly handsome in the dim light, frosty silver hair mused from your wandering fingers, and those piercing dark red gaze drinking in your every movement and expressions. 

You bite your lip and sway your hips, moving to a slow rhythm, starting with your nightgown straps. Gently, you ease them off your arms and let them fall, then you peel the band of your dress down your chest, sliding the slinky material over your barely there baby bump and down your thighs, leaving you in just your underwear. Glancing at him through your lashes, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your black thong, teasing him. 

Sylus’s breath is coming faster now as he watches you, his eyes glued to your body as you move with slow, alluring motions. The sight of you stripping for him, revealing the curves of your body and the soft skin of your pregnant stomach makes the fiery desire to claim you blaze even hotter. 

“You’re so beautiful, doll,” your husband praises you in a low, husky tone. “So damn beautiful.”

His fingers are starting to itch, aching to touch you, to feel your skin under his palms. But, he keeps his arms crossed, forcing himself to wait, to watch you finish your little strip tease for him. 

You hook the thong and drag it down your hips. With a sweet yet devious giggle, you ball it in your hand and toss the lace scrap onto his chest. 

Sylus smirks and catches the lace underwear, his fingers closing around the soft fabric. He looks down at the garment in his hand and then back up to you, his eyes darkening with desire and his slipping control. 

“Mhm… doll… you’re being very naughty, throwing your underwear at me like that.” 

He brings the tiny scrap of lace to his nose, inhaling your scent and a growl escapes his chest, low and possessive. 

Your eyes darken with a similar shade of desire and longing. “Anything for you, Sir.” 

Sylus can feel the fire to claim you threatening to engulf him, burning hotter with each moment that passes, his blood-red eyes locked on you and the desire in your own restless gaze. 

“That’s what I like to hear, doll.”

Your husband sets your thong on the desk and gets up, moving to stand in front of you. His hands reach out, fingers gently tracing the outline of your hips. “Turn around, sweetie. Let me put these handcuffs on you.”

Obeying him, you turn around, and rest your wrists on the small of your back.

Sylus’s eyes darken at your perfect submission, as he sees your wrists in their position, ready for him to bind. He picks up the handcuffs, the leather cold in his hand, and snaps the bands around your wrists. Pulling them taut, he secures them in place and snaps them shut with a click.

“How do they feel, doll?”

The low rumble of his question lights the warmth of arousal between your thighs, and you squirm, breathing growing heavier. “Heavenly, Sir… I can’t escape them.”

Sylus lets out a chuckle and a low growl, his need to dominate flaring up as he watches you squirm, testing the cuffs, trying to pull free. He takes a step closer behind you, his chest pressed flush against your back.

“That’s what I love about these cuffs, doll. They’re completely inescapable. No matter how much you struggle, you’re not getting out.”

Once upon a time, the idea of being bound by the infamous Onychinus leader would have made your fearless heart tremble. But, after falling in love with him, marrying him and giving him two beautiful twins and with another baby on the way, the fear is no longer there, replaced by the intense desire to always belong inexplicably to him. 

You lean against his chest, a soft moan slipping past your teeth. “Feels… so good…”

Sylus wraps his arms around you, his chest pressed close against your back, the heat of his body warming you. He pulls you closer, his hands running along your hips and sides, up to your shoulders, his fingers brushing over your skin. The feel of you against his chest, the sounds of your sweet moans, makes him burn hotter for you.

“Mhm, such a good girl. The way you respond to being bound is so damn sexy, doll.”

Your hips involuntarily undulate, desire singing in your veins. 

“They make me feel so sexy, Sir.” 

Sylus tightens his arms around you, his fingers tracing along the curve of your hips as you grind your lower body against his. He can feel your desire, hear the need in your voice, and his control is close to snapping. Gritting his teeth, he fights back against the urge to just bend you over the desk and take you like an animal. 

“You can really feel how helpless you are now, can’t you, my love? These cuffs make you feel so vulnerable, so exposed… so completely under my control.”

No one can say your husband wasn’t an expert and talking through your mounting desire. You tilt your head back and moan softly. 

“Yes, Sir. I feel so helpless… It's intoxicating.” 

Sylus leans down, his lips hovering over your exposed neck, just below the line of your collar. He can feel his possessive fire burning ever brighter, the instincts to devour and pleasure you taking over.

“Mhm, doll… you’re completely at my mercy like this. You can’t do anything except wait for me to touch you, to tease you, to give you whatever I want.” 

Your body begins to shake, the force of his words enough to bring your composure to its knees. 

“Please…”

Your Master and husband smirks, feeling your body tremble with desire, the need in your voice fueling the dominant flame within him. He doesn’t give you what you want, instead continuing to tease you, his lips just barely touching your neck.

“Please what, doll? Use your words.”

A gasp flies past your lips, your eyes squeezing close; the words that spill from your tongue are wanton and take you aback with how desperate you are for your husband. 

“Use me, Sir. Touch me. Tease me. Make me your toy, Sir.”

Sylus grins, feeling the power surging through him at your words. He loves it when you give yourself over to him, when you surrender to his indomitable control. 

“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it, doll? You want me to use you, to do whatever I want and please to your sweet, hot, tight little body?” 

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, breath hot and insistent.

“You want to be my toy, my plaything.” 

“Yes, Sir,” your voice shakes from the force of your desire. “I want to be your filthy plaything… your sweet toy…”

Your husband’s dominant fire roars, the possessive need within him flaring up at your words. He knows you’re completely his; his to do as he pleases. Your submission and your surrender only serve to stoke the flames of his desire, making him want to push you further, to take you to the edge and beyond. 

“That’s exactly what you are, doll. You’re my dirty, filthy sweet little toy. And I’m going to use however I please.”

Those words and promises… they drive you insane with need and want.

“Oh God… oh God…” you groan needily. 

Sylus moves his lips down your neck, biting and sucking on your sensitive skin, leaving possessive marks on the tender stretch of your throat. His hands wander down your body, tracing the curves of your hips and stomach, gently pinching and tugging on your swollen, tender nipples until your hips stutter, his touch setting your skin ablaze. 

“Mhm, doll… say it. I want you to say it. That you’re my toy. That you belong to me.” 

Your head tilts back onto his chest, your breath coming out in hard pants. “I’m your toy, Sir. Your beloved toy and I belong to you.” 

He grins against your skin, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Hearing you say the words, hearing you claim yourself as his, only serves to fan the flames of his desire to dominate even further. Your husband pulls you flush against his chest, his body pressed against your back.

“That’s right, my doll. You’re mine. Mine to do as I please. Mine to play with, to tease and to take however I want.”

His lips move to your ear, voice low and dangerous. 

“And trust me when I say this, sweetie. I plan on using you all night.” 

Your hips quiver, the surging heat clawing through your body, demanding to be whetted. “Please, Sir. Make it hurt. Make me cry. I want you to consume me.”

This dark game you and your husband love to play will never cease to enthrall you, leaving you bright-eyed and impatient for him to fulfill your desires. 

Sylus’ demanding nature roars at your words. He understands you’re giving him explicit permission to push you to your limits, to take you beyond the edge of pleasure and into the aching terrain of submission. 

“Careful what you wish for, sweetie… you’re giving me all the permission I need to do things to you that will make you scream and cry. Are you sure you won’t regret this?” 

“I won’t, Sir,” you promise. “I need it… I want it…” 

He grins, knowing that he has your complete trust and surrender. Your white-haired devilish husband knows he’s going to push you to your limits and he’s going to make you enjoy every second of it.

“Hmm. Alright, doll… you asked for it.”

Without warning, he bites down on your neck, his sharp canines sinking into the delicate skin of your throat, marking you as his. Your body jerks instinctively, and he moves his hands to your wrists, gripping it tightly in his grasp, pulling you back against him, keeping you captive and pliant to the pleasure he’s eliciting in your bound body. 

“A-ah!” 

Tears fill your eyes, your loud moan catching you off guard. 

Suddenly, you hear a rustle over the baby monitor he has installed near his office desk, and you gasp softly, catching his attention. Sylus stills, following your gaze to the baby monitor, hearing one of the twins starting to sniffle, having been startled by your shattering moan. 

He grumbles and releases your wrists, reluctantly pulling away from you. Sylus can tell from the cadence of the tiny sniffles that Sabrina has woken up from your unintentionally jarring moan. 

“Damn it, doll,” he hisses, “you woke the baby with your screaming. Are you happy now?” 

Despite being bound and at his whim, you shoot him a glare and whisper-yell: “That was what the gag was for, Sylus!” 

The rustling continues over the baby monitor, Sabrina smacking her lips and yawning. Your husband makes to move to the nursery, wanting to comfort his baby girl when you shake your head and whisper, “Wait! Let’s just give her some time to settle down…”

He grumbles again, the aching need to dominate you temporarily stifled by this unforeseen interruption. He knows that it was his fault for not gagging you sooner before proceeding with playtime, and he can’t help but feel frustrated at his lack of foresight.

“Fine, doll. We’ll give her some time. But, trust me, when she goes back to sleep, we’re picking right back up where we left off.” Your husband’s ruby red eyes seem to glow in the lack of light with the intensity of his need to assert his dark desires over you. “And this time,” he promises, “you will be wearing a gag.” 

Nodding, you rest your head on his chest, listening to the baby monitor. Sylus remains quiet, too, sliding his hands up and down your arms and shoulders, praying to whatever deity above that his sweet children will remain asleep while he has his way with their mama. 

Like his prayer was answered, Sabrina stops sniffling and coos, rustling sounding over the scratchy audio. Then, soft snores fill the office, the baby monitor picking up on both the twins sound asleep. 

Sylus waits until his baby girl’s snores turn into soft, even breathing, indicating that she’s fallen back asleep. When he’s absolutely and 100% sure she’s knocked out cold, he glances down at you, corners of his lips twitching in a smirk at the sight of you tense and waiting in his arms. 

“I hope you know what you’re in for, doll. You asked me to push you to your limits and now that our precious babies are asleep… I’m not holding back anymore.”

You nod, squeezing your thighs together, despite the guilt swimming in your soul at how easily you had already disobeyed his orders tonight. 

“Sir… I’m sorry, Sir.” 

Sylus grins, noticing the way you’re squirming from the heat in between your thighs, your body responding to his dominating words. “You’re sorry, sweetie? Yes, you should be. You woke the baby and now we had to stop. But, don’t worry, I’m going to make sure you remember this lesson, doll.”

Your eyes flash and your shoulders tense when you hear him pick up the panel gag from the desk. 

Like he’s completely attuned to you, Sylus smirks when you turn around to show him the flash of excitement in your eyes. He holds up the panel gag, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Doll, this is the exact punishment you get for waking the baby. You’re going to be wearing this gag for the rest of the night.” 

He shifts closer to you, reaching forward to tilt your chin up. 

“Open your mouth, doll.”

You obey him with no resistance, letting your mouth fall open. 

Sylus’s grin stretches wider when he watches you obediently drop open your mouth, your eyes filling with excitement and submission. He lifts the panel gag up, sliding the black phallus between your teeth and securing it behind your head. 

“There you go… mhm… you look so beautiful with the gag in your mouth, doll.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear and inciting shivers down your spine from his honeyed threat. 

“Now, let’s see how loud I can make you scream.”

You gurgle his name, biting down on the black plastic, humiliation and desire running through your veins. 

Sylus runs his hands over your body, tracing your curves and planting his mouth on any inch of skin he can reach, leaving his marks all over. He sees the way you look at him, the desire for more melting in the depths of your gaze, and the way your body responds to his touch. It only serves to fan the flames of his need to dominate. 

“You like being gagged, don’t you, my love?” He brushes his fingers across the outline of the gag, moving his hand to grip your neck lightly, enjoying your stuttering breath and muffled moan. “You like the way it feels when I take control and you have no choice but to surrender to me, don’t you, darling?” 

Tears of pleasure and yearning fill your eyes and you nod, your hips twitching pathetically from the impact of his debauched words.

Sylus smirks at the tears in your eyes, knowing it’s him that is making you feel the way he wants you to. He can tell that you’re completely engrossed in the moment, that you’re drowning in the subtleties of this power dynamic between you two. 

“I can see it in your eyes, my love. You’re desperate for me, aren’t you?” His voice is a low, alluring rumble that comes from his chest, vibrating against your back. “You want me to take control and make you mine, completely and utterly.”

The gag slurs your plea, but he hears you all the same. “Pwease.” 

The ache in his loins flares up at your muffled plea, the way you’re begging for him makes Sylus even more excited to deny you.

“You want more, doll? You want me to edge you hard and fast? You want me to deny you and make you drip with pure, pathetic need?” 

You nod desperately, clipping your hips forward, a slutty tick of libidinous desire you cannot control.

Sylus grins at your body’s desperation manifesting in the uncontrollable movement of your hips. He sees the way you’re squirming and pleading for more, even when he hasn’t touched you fully yet; his sick, twisted desires growing harder to control at the sight. 

“You’re so eager, doll. So eager to give yourself to me, to let me take control. But, you have to be patient, doll. I’m going to make you feel sensations you've never felt before. But first…”

Sylus presses closer, his lips hovering close to your ear: “I’m going to do something you won’t like.” 

You chew on the phallic silicone stuck between your teeth in frustration, tensing up and waiting for his next words.

He notices the tautness of your jaw, grinning at your reaction. The tension in your body as you wait for his next command is delicious, and he takes a moment to soak in the sadistic enjoyment he’s getting from the way you’re desperately waiting for his next command.

“I’m going to give you a choice, doll. And I’m not going to tell you which one is worse.” 

There is nothing you can do but nod. Sylus’s large hands drift to your midsection, curling around your waist. With a nudge of his knee, he spreads your thighs wider, leaving you vulnerable and unsteady on your feet with nothing but his grip around you to keep you upright. 

He grins, fully enjoying how helpless you are, knowing that you’re willing to do just about anything to please him. He raises three fingers in front of your face, chuckling darkly. 

“Doll, I’m going to count down from three and I want you to choose one of my fingers. Whichever one you choose will be the punishment that you will get.”

Behind you, he grins, knowing that he’s setting you up for a sadistic game that is designed to push your limitations and boundaries.

“Are you ready, doll?”

You jerk your head, burbling a muffled, “Yes.” 

Sylus grins, the fire inside of him burning brighter at the sight of your eagerness. He starts to count down, slowly and deliberately, his voice taking on a rough edge that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Three… two… one…”

You blindly bump your nose against his ring finger—the third one. 

Sylus grins cruelly, seeing the finger you chose, knowing you have fallen right into his trap. He takes a moment to enjoy the moment, letting the anticipation build before delivering the punchline. 

“Heh… doll, that was the choice you would have wanted to avoid the most.” 

He grabs your hair, turning you around to face him, fingers tangling in your soft strands as he pulls your head backward, making sure to keep eye contact. 

“Silly, stupid little doll. You fell right into my trap,” he croons, low and dangerously.

Sylus lets your fear and anxiety marinate, unwilling to break the tense silence for the grand reveal. You run your tongue over the plastic cock stuffed in your mouth, simmering in your frustration and dread.

Your tormentor chuckles, watching the way you squirm, delighting in the look of frustration on your expression, how your jaw tenses as you flick your tongue against the plastic phallus in anticipation. 

“Mhm… someone’s eager to know what their punishment is, aren’t they? You want so desperately to know what I have in store for you, doll?” 

As much as you’re dreading the reveal, you can’t stand the thought of being stuck in limbo. You twist your wrists in the handcuffs and bob your head.

“Pwease, Sir,” you speak past the gag. 

Sylus is immensely enjoying the way you beg for him, calling him ‘Sir’ in a thick, slurry voice that’s impeded by the panel gag. He leans in, his lips hovering just inches from your ear, his voice taking on a low, dangerous edge. 

“You’re being so desperate and eager… it’s so easy to tease you, doll. But, since you’re begging me nicely, I suppose I’ll tell you what punishment you’ve chosen.”

He lets the words dangle in mid-air, intentionally drawing out more of your frustration. If there’s one thing your husband excels at, it’s being a goddamn tease. 

You make a sound of curiosity from the back of your throat, brows dipping together in pure frustration. 

Sylus grins, seeing the way your frustration and dread is mounting, the plastic bit of the gag digging against your teeth as you bite down on it in anticipation. 

“You’re just so cute when you’re desperate, my love. But, I suppose I’ve teased you enough…”

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, the words making your blood run cold. 

“Your punishment, doll… is two days of edging.”

Your stomach sinks right to your toes, your breath catching and eyes widening.

“Nwooooo,” you protest, shaking your head, already regretting your agreement for these titillating games. “Pweeasseee…”

All your resistance does is make him grin, seeing your reaction, the way your eyes widen in shock and dread as he reveals your punishment. He can feel the sadistic glee surging in his chest at your pleading voice, begging him to change his mind.

Sylus grips your chin, forcing you to stare right into his glinting, ruby eyes. “Nuh-uh. No can do, sweetie. You made your choice and now you’re going to have to suffer the consequences.” 

He runs a hand through your hair, pulling tighter on the strands, making sure you’re gazing directly into his eyes when he utters these devastating words: 

“You’re not getting out of this, doll.”

Tears glitter in your eyes and you hiccup, the pain of his tight grip around your hair pebbling your nipples, making them irresistible to his wandering mouth. 

Sylus ducks his head, sucking on them gently and making them shiny with his spit, earning a whine from you. 

“Mhm…” he sees the tears glossing in your eyes, the way you’re flushed and responding to his ministrations. 

“Look at you, doll. You’re desperate and begging already and I’ve only just started,” he chuckles darkly, “You’re going to be in so much trouble by the time these two days are up.” 

He kisses a path from your chest to your neck, brushing his heated lips against your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“But, you’re going to be a good girl and take it, aren’t you, doll?”

There is nothing you can do but lick and suck on the gag, nodding furiously; hoping he would take mercy on your poor, keyed up body and disregard his punishment.

Sylus grins, noticing the way you’re chewing on the gag in frustration, answering his question without saying a word. Tenderness seeps into his heart and he runs his knuckles down your cheek.

“You’re being so good for me already. But, you’re going to have to be even more of an angel for these next two days if you want me to give you what you want, sweetie.” 

Without warning, he grabs your chin in his hand, forcing you to look directly into his dark and intense eyes. 

“Can you do that, sweetie? Can you be a good girl and let your Sir edge you for two days?” 

Tearily, you nod. 

Sylus is satisfied with your answer, the way you’re still desperately agreeing to his terms. 

“Doll, your desperation is delicious. You’re so eager to please, to be a good girl…”

Gently, your husband runs his hand over your cheek, his fingers tracing the outline of your gag in a soft caress. 

“But, you still need to wait a little longer, doll. Two days. What happens after that… we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

It must be the hormones or the baby you’re carrying inside of you, because you start to tear up, wondering if you can endure such torment and if he will begin it tonight.

Sylus’s smirk grows at your reaction, how you’re squirming and already on the verge of tears just from the anticipation. 

“Mhm… my love, you’re already so desperate from such a simple punishment. I wonder how you’re going to fare by the end of the two days…” 

He moves behind you, his hands resting on your hips, his front pressed up against your ass, letting you feel the half-hard presence of his cock digging into your thighs. 

“But, I suppose there’s no time like the present to begin.” 

Your body seizes and you cry out softly, whether from anticipation or dread, you have no idea. 

He grins, feeling your reaction to his words and touch, the way your body tenses up and the hitch in your breath and composure. He can feel your skin heating up, the desire and need building within you from just a simple touch. 

Sylus brushes a tender kiss onto your temple. “Mhm… you’re so sensitive and responsive tonight. You’re just begging to be touched, aren’t you?” 

He moves closer, his body digging harder against your backside, his lips trailing hot kisses down your spine. 

A soft, involuntary moan slips past your gagged mouth and you nod, wishing he could go lower. 

Sylus thoroughly enjoys hearing your moan, the way you’re practically begging for more with your body. He can feel your skin slowly burning with the aching heat, the want and need coursing through your body. 

“You want more, don’t you? My dirty little desperate doll.” 

He kisses his way further down your back, each brush of his lips on the sensitive expanse of your back making you twitch, his lips slowly inching lower and lower.

Your eyes roll back into your head, a steady stream of moans trickling past the black, phallic plastic and leather strap over your mouth. 

The heat from his mouth makes your entire body tingle, and Sylus grins at your non-stop moans, growing bolder and more demanding. 

“Doll, your skin is so hot and sensitive tonight. You’re so responsive to my touch… so desperate for more.” 

He moves his lips even lower, trailing them over your backside, nipping your skin and leaving a stinging bite right on the plush globe of your right ass. 

You squeal from the pinch of pain, back arching and body growing warmer. The need to come undone blazes hot in your veins, and you wish Sylus will just give into you.

But, he only grins, chuckling low and darkly at your reaction; the way you arch your back and lead for more, the way you’re begging for your release. He knows you’re fighting it, trying to hold back. Trying to be a good girl for him and obey his rules. Your sadistic husband loves seeing you at his mercy like this, desperate and needy, begging for him to save you from this torment with your glassy eyes and bulging cheeks stuffed full from the gag. 

“Oh, doll… you're such a good girl for me. But, you need to wait a little bit longer… you need to wait for two more days.”

He kisses his way back up your spine, his lips and teeth marking every inch of your body. Sylus gently nudges you against the edge of his desk, guiding you to your back, careful not to crush your bound palms from the weight of your body pressing into them. 

He lays you against the cool wood, taking his time to run his hands down the length of your body. 

Those calloused, thick fingers play with your nipples, squeezing and teasing them until you cry out and gurgle his name. 

In this position, it’s a breeze for him to keep your thighs wide open, using his large and warm hands to hold you wide as his tongue dances along the seam of your inner thigh, teasing the length of your pelvic bone.

Sylus smirks when he hears your choked moans, seeing the way your hips twitch in an effort to get his mouth right where you need him the most. 

Patience, he murmurs and gives your throbbing clit a little kiss.

Your body seizes and you shiver, desperately undulating your hips for more friction—for more of him. 

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” Sylus coos, trailing his mouth to the apex of your thighs languidly. “Such a good… girl…”

Your hips jerk violently at the sensation of his mouth on your clit, his tongue running through your folds. Sylus eats you out passionately, not holding back, flicking your throbbing bundle of nerves relentlessly; mouthing your folds and spitting it back out, branding his name on your clit with his tongue. 

He can tell you’re on the verge of coming undone, your hips bucking up and an endless stream of moans blessing his heated ears. 

The second he tastes your orgasm crashing around his tongue, Sylus pulls back, laughing low and devilishly at your chagrined cry. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, doll. Were you close?” 

He eyes the tears beading on your lash line and chuckles darkly, smoothing his palm over your stomach soothingly. 

“There, there. You need to wait a bit longer, my love. Two more days.” 

Your husband’s cursed mouth kisses his way up your body, his frosty white locks falling right in his face, the tips tickling your bare sternum as he moves his lips to your swollen nipples again. 

The tears gathering in your eyes begin to drip down your cheeks, and you start to sob.

Sylus pauses, seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks, hearing your hitched cries and the way your body is shaking from your ruined orgasm and the effort of holding back. 

“Mhm… sweetie, you’re being so good for me,” he praises you softly, pressing his body onto yours, his hand caressing your cheek and thumb wiping away your tears. “But, you need to wait a little bit longer, alright? Two days. You can do it.” 

Shivering, you sniffle and nod.

Sylus grins. “That’s my girl.” He sees the shiver wracking your body, how you’re sniffling and knows you’re trying your best to obey his rules. As a sign of comfort, he pulls you even closer, his body flush against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you tight. 

“You're such a good little doll for obeying me. You’re doing so well…”

He leans in, his lips close to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Now… how shall I reward good little dolls who listen to their Sirs, hmm?” 

The answer comes in the form of Sylus edging you for throughout the night, his mouth, tongue and fingers expertly bringing you to the brink, only to rip you back time and again. By the end of the night, you’re left sobbing, aching, and unfulfilled. 

He removes the gag, but keeps the cuffs around your wrists, leading you to the office sofa where his arms wrap around you and he caresses your hair, slowly bringing you down from the high. His heart aches seeing tears in your eyes, knowing he’s intentionally kept you frustrated and unsatisfied. But, he can’t deny the pride shining in his ruby red eyes when you keep holding out and do your best to obey his commands. 

“You did so well tonight, doll,” he praises you in a soft, husky voice. “I know you’re frustrated and unfulfilled, and it’s going to be like this for two more days, but you’re being so good… I’m so proud of you.” 

Sylus unbuckles the cuffs and brings you to bed, holding you close and caressing your body, trying to ease you into sleep. But, you can still feel the need humming in your veins, the desire burning within you; the need for a release he’s been denying you the entire night. 

He knows you won’t be able to fall asleep like this, but he also knows he needs to stick to his word and let you suffer for another day. 

The next morning, your husband takes you again, his hands and mouth working over every inch of your body, bringing you right to the edge and pulling back when you’re about to spill over; crimson eyes dancing with glee at your choked moans and teary hiccups. 

He loves how you cry out in frustration, writhing naked on the bed with your sweet little body unfulfilled. How you grab his shoulders, trying to tug him back into the circle of your embrace, but he evades you easily, sitting up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Sylus!” 

Your whine doesn’t phase him. Sylus’s eyes darken with his own desire as he presses you back into the mattress, aching to take you but at the same time, he still wants to see you suffer more. 

“Doll, you need to wait, remember? Two days. That’s your punishment.”

You groan and turn your body away, hiding your face in the plush pillows while screaming, “It’s not fair!” 

Sylus exhales a chuckle at your petulant whining, the way you’re hiding your face in the pillow and complaining. It makes his heart swell with glee and pride, seeing you like this, so desperate and needy, but knowing he’s the one in total control. 

“That’s the whole point of a punishment, doll. It’s not supposed to be fair. I told you, you have to wait until the two days are up before you can come.”

You should’ve known his words would herald a full day of torment, but you were too slow and soft hearted, desperately hoping he would be swayed by the tears in your eyes and finally give in to your need to release.

But, Sylus did no such thing. 

He mercilessly edges you throughout the day, never giving you any respite. 

He loves the way you’re getting more desperate as the day goes on, his hands and mouth bringing you close to release again and again but never giving you what you need. Your husband loves seeing you on the edge like this, fighting against your own body’s needs, fighting the urge to give in and just let go. 

His lips leave the juncture of your thighs, the TV humming in the background while the twins are busy in the playpen, cooing and rolling around. 

Normally, you would never let your husband have his way with the babies so close in the vicinity, but your mind isn’t where it is today, desperately in need for him to take you over the edge and let you come.

“You’re doing so good, taking it and holding back,” your husband praises, rising to his feet and adjusting your skirt, hiding your bare and neglected pussy from his view, making you decent once again before you have to feed the twins. “You don’t need to come, doll. Coming is only for good girls and you’ve been bad to the core.” 

Your brain feels like it’s melting, no thoughts but the feeling of his mouth on you, his fingers sinking deeply into the heat of your cunt, thrusting in and out to bring you to that sweet edge where he doesn’t allow you to spill. 

It’s a borderline addiction, the pain and pleasure rolling into one that you don’t know what you want anymore. 

Sylus edges you wherever he wants: in the living room after the twins have been put to sleep, in the kitchen against the counters, in the bathroom, in his office. 

He grins, seeing how exhausted you’re getting, how you’re struggling to keep up with his constant teasing and edging. His punishment is even worse now that he’s home with you, Onychinus duties relegated to Luke and Kieran who overlook the day-to-day operations while the organization isn’t in crisis mode. 

Sylus knows it’s torture for you, but he also knows it’s what you need.

“You’re doing so well, my love. Just a little longer, doll. One more day. Just hold out a little longer.” 

Night comes by, and after the twins are fed and put to bed, Sylus immediately pounces on the chance to tie you up to the bed, edging you over and over until you cry out for him to stop past the lacy thong he’s stuffed in your mouth, crying out from the oversensitivity. 

Sylus grins, seeing how sensitive you’ve become and how you’re begging him to stop but at the same time, still hold on and obey his commands.

“Oh, doll… you’re being so good, so strong. I’m so proud of you for holding on this long.” 

Twisting in your bonds, you writhe, whimpering through the makeshift gag in your mouth.

“Yesh, Shir… one mwore day…”

He traces your cheek with the tips of his fingers, smiling softly, loving how you’re fighting off your body’s baser needs, determined to obey his every command.

The next day is the worst for you. You’re sore all over, and completely sensitive to his touches. Due to the constant arousal thumping in your veins, you barely had a decent night’s sleep. 

Sylus notices how tired you are, how exhausted and worn down you’ve become from the constant edging he’s been doing to you. He was the one who suggested asking Sara to babysit the twins for a day because you’re too tired to take care of them yourself. 

You’re dozing off on the sofa, blankets tangling around your legs when he sits down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

Even in a doze, you instinctively wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest and Sylus’s heart squeezes. His sweet, delicate, naughty little doll.

“You’ve done so well, my love,” Sylus whispers, tracing his fingers over your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his gentle touch. “It’s finally time for your reward.”

“Wait?” You perk up in disbelief, fully awake now. “Really?” 

“Mhm. Yes.” Sylus grins at the way your eyes light up at the idea of finally getting to come after being teased for so long.

“You’ve been so obedient and good, I think you deserve to shatter around my cock, now.” 

Giggling, you nod. “I’m ready, Sir.”

He laughs at your excitement, loving how eager and desperate you are to finally get what you need. 

“Mhm… doll, lie back and relax… let me take care of you…”

Sylus gets your skirt and blouse off your body, his ruby eyes hungrily devouring the expanse of your skin. You’re so beautiful to him like this—spread out on the couch, your hair fanning across the pillows, body supple and ready for the taking. 

He removes his clothes as well, slowly easing his touch up and down your body, though it's useless to do because you’re already so keyed up and ready for him. 

Your eyes roll back into your skull when he finally sinks his thick cock inside of you, a ring of cream already forming at the base of his girthy length as he fucks you hard and fast, urging you to rub your clit and play with your nipples as your release builds to a crashing crescendo. 

That’s it, good girl, good girl, he coaxes. Come for me… come for me, doll… make me proud and come together with me…

Sylus makes you come more times than you can count, and afterwards, he holds you in his arms, his body pressed against yours, his breath hot against your skin as you pass out cold, fast asleep.

A pang of pride lights up in his chest, seeing how spent you are, completely satisfied and pleasured but also completely worn out from the experience. 

He caresses your hair, gently pulling you closer to him, caressing the slight bump of your stomach where his son is growing inside of you.

Sylus kisses the top of your head, tightening his grip around you as he sighs, enjoying this moment of unfettered peace and love surrounding the two of you. He might not be the best at vocalizing his emotions, but with your defenses completely down and your body resting after such a strenuous experience you willingly went through out of your love for him, Sylus thinks you deserve a bit more praise and credit for putting up with his demands.

“Rest well, doll,” he whispers into your hair, stroking your belly. “No words can encompass how much I love you and want to protect you with my life, my precious wife. I’ll be here when you wake up… sleep tight.” 

As the day goes on, all is right and well in the Qin household.

— reblogs with comments and feedback are so appreciated <33 thank you for your constant support and love on my fics !!

©️lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, repost and claim as your own.

[felassan]

Snippets.

A user asked if there are instances wherein Rook will be referred to by their last name. "Yes, there are places where we refer to Rook by their last name. It's very contextual - we don't want to awkwardly insert a reference in where it doesn't make sense - but it does happen, though it is going to be more common with some backgrounds than others."

Q. "Does Solas have a type of tea he doesn't mind as much as others? Or are all of them equally detestable?" A. "Orange zinger."

A user asked about the ages of the companions. "We're not getting into specifics right yet, but the companions cover a broad range of ages and experience. They're all pretty established in the world and in their expertise by the time you meet them, though. You are recruiting a team of experts after all."

You can have body tattoos!

John Epler: "Echoing Corinne, the last few weeks have been an absolute whirlwind but also incredibly rejuvenating. I'm so excited to share more with y'all."

A user stated "There are no restrictions on lineage/faction/class combinations other than dwarves cannot be mages". Corinne added "Correct. I've really been enjoying the different combinations."

Q. "Will the gender identity of a trans/non-binary Rook be acknowledged in game by other characters? (beyond just pronouns I mean)". A. "There are moments when you can disclose and discuss, however, disclosure remains the right of the individual so you have to make that choice for yourself." (!!)

Re: release date. ''Exact date has not yet been revealed. Fall 2024 is as much as we can say right now.''

''Lots of great cameos in the game, but I'm not going to spoil anything. You'll have to play to see who shows up for yourself.''

''We can't reveal our upcoming marketing beats or media presence just yet. Stay tuned.''

Q. ''Can companion AI be customized - ie. DAO/DA2 style tactics or even something like Aggressive -> Defensive'' A. ''Very different system this time around. In the skill trees you can affect their behaviors, like setting you up for combos, or auto-healing you when health gets low. Each Companion is a little different mechanically.''

Q. ''Will we get the option to give our Rook more fantastical hair colors, like purple, blue, pink?''. A. ''Yes''

Q. ''How about heterochromatic eyes?'' A. ''Yes''

Corinne: ''We're so excited too! As much as I've played, I absolutely cannot wait to do my first playthrough when the game is out. Also cannot wait to hear about all of your decisions and experiences.''

Q. ''Will I be able to make a short qunari and a tall dwarf or are there limits to that? Do the qunari have to be buff?'' A. ''There are limitations, of course... but yes, you can make a Dwarf that is tall or a Qunari that is short, relative to their lineage. We stan the skinny Qunari''

Corinne: ''Need to get back to it, all. But it's always a pleasure to check-in and see the great questions. We'll do this again soon :)''

[source: the official BioWare Discord]

(emphasis mine)

[ang3ltine]

❝ℭ𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 ℭ𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔰❞  𝑓𝑡. 𝐵𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑟 𝑆𝑒-𝑚𝑖 𝑥 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐴𝑢𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑟'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠: semi would deffo own a motorbike you can't convince me otherwise. This is just a short scenario for self indulgence heh , also pls share and follow if you like my work <3,

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: slight mention of toxic relationship and mild suggestive themes towards the end ( scroll to avoid)

✰ She first met you at a vintage store downtown called 'savvy styles'. During your shifts she would constantly flirt with you shamelessly in front of other customers. At some point you got used to it and would play along.

✰ You ended up being close friends with her at the time you were dating your bf. Things ended terribly with him, you decided to take a break for a year, and Se-mi was with you every step of the way.

✰ Se-mi loved having a smoke every now and then so you gifted her the vivienne westwood heart lighter for Christmas. She still cherishes 'till this day and she couldn't be more grateful.

✰ After flirting back and forth she finally asked you out. She was actually super nervous but tried to cover it up with her cool girl facade ( you totally saw right through her xd).

"So uhh.. wanna go out sometime? " she asked while leaning against the counter top. There was a slight falter in her voice but she covered it up quickly with a cough.

"Ofcourse! I'd love to"  you bodly gave her a soft kiss on her cheek " pick me up after my shift at 6?"

She stood there in awe with the tips of her ears turning pink, after pulling herself out of shock she was back to her charming self.

"Yeahhh sure, after 6 right? I'll see you then angel ♡"

✰ Your first date was a memorable one. She had picked up after your shift like she had promised. Se-mi gave you a text message an hour before to give you a heads up of the dates location and that she'd be arriving soon.

✰ Hearing the sound of an engine revving in the distance you see Se-mi approach you. She took her helmet off and you reached up to fix her messy raven hair, which she gladly appreciated.

✰ Se-mi eyed you up and down with her dark eyes to take in what you were wearing. It was a cold winter night but here you were sporting a white ruffled dress that cut just above your knees with no tights. The intense staring got you flustered so you quickly scrambled onto the back of her bike after putting on your helmet.

✰ Being the humble woman she was, she handed you her jacket to wrap around your waist so you would feel comfortable during the ride.

" Thanks, but aren't you going to feel cold?" Shrugging her shoulders she looked back at you and shook her head.

"Nahh I'll be fine, I'm wearing thermal clothing. It's you that I should be worried about princess ~" you bit back a smile as you wrap your arms around her waist and leaned against her back. She smelt just like you had imagined, cherries and cigarettes.

✰ It took almost an hour to get to the beach just outside seoul. After doing some stretches once you got off the bike, you both headed down to the beach.

✰ The sun had begun to set across the horizon, giving the sky beautiful hues of oranges and pinks. Se-mi being the little shit that she was, hauled you onto her shoulder and sprinted towards the waves while you squealed.

✰After you had fun splashing in the waves, the night slowly crept in. Strolling down the beach at this time of the night wasn't something unusual for the pair. It was a special place that Se-mi would take you to calm your mind and to relieve stress. Which always worked.

✰ Your ex-boyfriend had emotionally and mentally drained you last year. Se-mi was the one who beat up your ex when you caught him and another girl making out in an alley way behind a cafe while you were still dating. That was a day that you would never forget.

" I can't believe how fast this year has gone.." , Se-mi hummed in response. You both were sitting down on the sand, looking towards the crashing waves against the rocky shore. They were surprisingly calm tonight despite yesterday's weather warnings.

"Hmm I'm proud of you. It takes alot of courage to get out of a toxic relationship and move on...", she turned to face you and reached out to move a loose strand of hair away from your face. Gently rubbing her thumb across your cheek while you nuzzled into her warm touch.

" You're the one who helped me the most Se-mi , and I have no idea how to repay you.."

✰ Se-mi was the first to lean in and brush her lips against yours, testing the waters. Not knowing if you wanted this or not. Without a second thought you pressed your lips fully against hers. They molded together perfectly, you don't know why you waited so long to feel this, to feel her.

✰ The rest of the world faded behind you as you both got lost in time. It was beginning to get hard to breathe as  she pulls you against her to deepen the kiss. You felt a rush of fireworks go off in your stomach that you never felt before with your ex, and it was exhilarating.

✰Se-mi could taste the slight hint of strawberry on your tongue from the candy you ate at the gas station and it just fueled her to ravish you even more. She nibbled softly on your bottom lip and tugged on it pulling out a quiet moan from you. Her hands were all over you and she had a hard time keeping herself under control. Giving your hips a gentle squeeze while you sat on her lap. Having no shame of being caught like this in public.

✰ But eventually you both had to pull away for air, your cheeks were flushed but you were content. Smiling softly down at the ravenette below you.Se-mi lightly nuzzled her nose against yours and both your breaths became foggy due to the cold air.

"So.. can I finally call you mine?" 

Ps. I'm sorry that this was super short but please repost and like the fic if you enjoyed it! ♡

[huhmiya]

FORTNITE | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: you have been watching chris play fortnite for most of the evening, but you were bored scrolling through social media and he wasn't paying much attention to you. so you found a way to get him to notice you.

warning: smut, sub!chris, use of y/n, swearing, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names (baby, ma, darling), blow job, slightly teasing, mommy kink, mention of blood, ass grabbing, cockwarming.

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. this one is kinda similar to lipstick marks. I hate the new season of fortnite, wbu?

WORDS: 2.8k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange | matt - blue

-

You were sitting on his bed, scrolling through social media while he played Fortnite with his brother, Matt. You could hear them both speaking to each other through their mics, but Chris's voice was clearer since he was in the room with you, while you can only hear Matt's voice through the mic when he shouted.

The sound of keyboard clicking filled the quiet room as he focused on building and shooting his opponent.

"52," Chris exclaimed louder than necessary, prompting you to glance up from your phone to see that he had hit the opponent.

You observed Chris and his game, noticing his intense focus, while catching a whiff of his invigorating savage cologne from across the room, which made your knees weak.

"Touch grass, you fucking kid!" Chris grumbled after being knocked down by the opponent, leaving Matt to take over.

“Calm down, young man” Matt said after Chris spoke, making him just roll his eyes.

You chuckled quietly, shaking your head and rolling your eyes with a slight smile, finding it funny when Chris’s rages since he comes up with something random.

He didn’t hear your chuckle or anything because he had his mic on. As he watched himself lose two health points every second after being knocked down, he soon perished, eliciting a groan as he realized he had lost all his items.

You observed Chris remove his mic and put it back on once his hair was away from his face. He then turned to you and muted himself to avoid Matt thinking he was addressing him.

"Are you okay ma?" he inquired, eyeing you wearing his shirt with your own pajama shorts. You nodded, unsure whether to speak since he was still muted and you couldn't see him unmute.

He smiled, turned back to his gaming chair, and resumed speaking into the mic. "Could you grab my sniper since you have a free inventory slot?" Chris asked Matt. “Will do”

As the gaming session continued, it eventually reached 1 am. You found yourself bored and craving Chris's attention, but he only glanced at you briefly whenever he died without saying anything.

You place your phone on the bedside and sat up instead of laying down on the bed. You couldn't help but approach him and hug him from behind.

He gasped slightly when you startled him, but his heart rate returned to normal once he realized it was you. "Hello," he mouthed as he continued talking to his brother on the mic. “Hey,” you smiled and ran your hand along his shoulder, feeling the warmth compared to your own hands.

He leaned back in his gaming chair, still engrossed in playing Fortnite. You couldn't resist trailing your fingers along the veins in his arm and not hands since he used his hands for gaming.

"You seem to have a thing for my hands," Chris remarked, making you smile before pausing. Matthew fake gagged, already aware that you were with him, anticipating Chris's flirtatious nature. "No, please, save the flirting for later," Matt chimed in on the mic, his voice audible as you were close by.

"Oh, shut it," Chris said with a small eye roll. You stopped tracing the veins on his arms and just looked at him in amusement. His hands clicked on the keyboard as he focused on shooting a player in the game.

You kept staring at his hands, the PC, and then back at the screen. He continued chatting with Matt until there were only 20 people left.

"The fuck?!" Your boyfriend, Chris, shouted as he was suddenly sniped out of nowhere. Matt tried to build and revive him, but his structures kept getting knocked down.

Chris seemed a bit irritated but didn't do anything. You looked at him again, and he met your gaze. The stress in his eyes softened a bit when he saw you. "Stressed, huh?" you said to Chris, and he nodded with a faint smile.

You brushed his hair out of his face, tucking a few strands behind his ear. He watched you before taking off his mic, readjusting it like a headband again, and putting it back on. “Goofy hairline” you tease making him squint his eyes at you before shaking his head.

He looked at you once more before watching the screen in disbelief as his character perished, with approximately 260 seconds left to get his reboot. Letting out a sigh, he grumbled as he lost his loot once again, although he understood it wasn't Matt's fault.

In the background, Matt discussed the damage he inflicted on the opponent who had taken down Chris.

"Do you trust me?" you whispered, catching Chris off guard with the unexpected question, even though deep down he knew he did. "What?" he muttered before confirming, "Yeah, I trust you..."

A smile played on your lips as you noticed the confusion on his face. Moving closer, you positioned yourself between his legs, causing his heart to quicken its pace, especially when he noticed you pulling your hair up.

Unaware that his mic was still on, Chris whispered urgently, "Y/n... come on."

Although he realized he was still audible, he spoke softly, ensuring Matt wouldn't overhear. "Y/n, I swear," he murmured, reluctantly allowing you to remove his shorts, revealing his half-erect cock in his boxers.

He glanced down at you, biting his lip to stifle any sound as the cold air sent a shiver through his excited member.

"Are you going to say something?" You teased Chris as he was on mic with his brother, causing him to press his lips together before speaking.

"What was that? I was fixing my hea—" Chris was interrupted as you began to pleasure him with kitty licking his tip, causing him to grow harder and struggle to remain quiet.

"I said I'm going to the lavish lair to reboot you," Matt announced, but Chris simply hummed, his attention fixed on you and your hands.

"That's right, baby," Chris murmured, prompting Matt to inquire about his comment, but Chris brushed it off, focusing on you instead.

You increased your pace, then took him into your mouth, eliciting a wide-eyed reaction from him as he covered his mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his pleasure. The sensation of your mouth around him brought him to the brink of ecstasy.

He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to remain silent for Matt's sake. "D-do you really have to reboot me?" Chris stammered out.

"I'm not suffering alone in a top 5," Matt says as he goes to reboot Chris. He breathes quietly, more in pleasure from the sensation of receiving oral pleasure.

He watches Chris get rebooted, not wanting to play but seeking only pleasure, planning to then engage in intercourse until Chris forgets his own name.

Chris places his hands on the keyboard to resume playing, as you had instructed him to do, but his hands are shaky as he feels himself nearing climax.

"I found a legendary assault rifle for you," Matt announces over the mic, to which Chris expresses gratitude. Chris lets out a slight whimper and looks down at you.

It's evident that he is struggling to keep the fact that he is receiving oral sex from you a secret from his brother. Your tongue swirls around his tip, making his legs tremble slightly as he tries to focus on the game.

"The storm is closing in, it will take five health," Matt informs Chris, who simply hums in response without daring to speak, especially when on the brink of climax.

As Chris continues to play, you gently massage his thighs while pleasuring him. He can't help but moan, a sound that Matt overhears.

“You just moan?" Matt asked, but Chris quickly denied it before another moan escaped. He gave you a warning glance, indicating he was close, although you could already tell by how many times he twitched in your mouth.

Closing his eyes, Chris bit his lip, which bore the marks of his attempts to silence himself. His hands trembled as he grabbed your messy ponytail, making you gag on his member. He was confident that Matt hadn't heard anything, so he made you gag on him once more.

"Can I cum, please, mommy?" Chris murmured, gazing at you, desiring permission to release in your throat, finding it incredibly arousing.

He took a risk by uttering those words, as he had forgotten to mute himself. When you hummed, the vibrations widened his eyes as he came deeply down your throat.

His muscles tensed, and he bit his lip harder, feeling the intensity of his orgasm. In the game, he went afk, needing to muffle his moans once more.

You smirked and licked the veins on his shaft, savoring every last drop of his essence.

You lean back to gaze at him, noticing his vulnerability and weakness in that moment. He was breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath, still feeling the lingering sensation of your mouth on him even though you had stopped.

Matt asked about his heavy breathing, but Chris simply placed his headset down, forgetting to mute himself.

"You're so beautiful darling," he whispered to you, gently wiping his release off your chin, causing your cheeks to flush as he chuckled.

No longer aroused, Chris shifted slightly so you were no longer between his legs. He lifted you onto his lap, ensuring you weren't causing him discomfort since he wasn't wearing any underwear, but neither of you minded.

"CHRIS!" Matt's voice boomed through the headset, causing both of you to glance at it. Chris let out a slight groan, then put his headset back on. "What?" he responded.

"We're in the top two, I need your help or we'll lose this game. I care about y/n and you, but please just assist me for now, and then you two can resume your playful, cheesy banter," Matt suggested.

Chris adjusted his position, ensuring you were more comfortable on his lap before diving back into the game, which seemed to stretch on forever for him.

"They're over there," Chris announced over the mic, using your head as a makeshift headrest, though you didn't mind. You observed him play alongside Matt, eagerly pursuing an opponent who was attempting to escape.

"Quick, oh my god!" Chris exclaimed as he and Matt gave chase. Matt managed to weaken the opponent significantly, exclaiming, "He's one hit!" Matt said so loudly that his voice carried upstairs to where you were in Chris's room.

In a triumphant moment, Chris landed a headshot with a sniper, prompting him to win the game and smile. "Headshot as well," he declared before embracing you and planting a kiss on your head.

You gazed up at him as he met your eyes, his hand resting on your thigh while you sat on his lap. Despite looking at you, he couldn't resist the desire to be intimate with you or have you ride him until he was overwhelmed with pleasure.

"Matt, I'm going to leave," Chris abruptly announced without saying goodbye. He shut off his computer, then kissed your lips and playfully squeezed your ass while you remained on his lap.

"You're so lucky I love you or else I would be pissed at you, pleasuring me while I'm gaming with my brother," he remarked with a chuckle, before engaging in another passionate kiss with you.

He let out a soft moan before breaking away to gaze at you. "I need you, make love to me until I forget my own name, please, mommy," he pleaded.

You smirked, brushing his hair away from his face, causing him to groan. Feeling his arousal grow beneath you as you sat on his lap, with him only clad in a shirt, you whispered, "Do you want to be taken by mommy, hmm?"

He nodded, his eyes pleading as he kissed your neck, attempting to arouse you in order for you to fulfill his desires. "Please, mommy."

The expression on his face revealed his desire for you, as you locked eyes with his captivating blue gaze, betraying his vulnerability because all he craved was you.

You removed your shirt, revealing your bare chest, catching him off guard as he bit his lip in surprise, but refrained from any complaints. “Holy shit ma," he murmured, fixated on your breasts.

You playfully nibbled on his neck, eliciting soft whimpers of pleasure from him, marking your territory as he embraced you by the hips, undressing you further until both of you stood naked, except for his shirt.

"I belong to you, mommy," he declared, his gaze fixed on you as you withdrew from his neck, leaving behind deep purple marks that would be difficult to conceal even with makeup. "Good boy," you commended.

His desire for physical contact intensified, particularly as your skin grazed teasingly against his sensitive areas.

You removed his shirt with his permission, both eager to consummate your passion as he eagerly surrendered to your lead, yearning for the moment when you would be one, lost in each other's touch until all rational thought faded away.

He struggled to control himself, placing his trembling hands on your hips as he positioned himself between your legs. His desire was solely for you, no one else but you.

As he entered you, a deep moan escaped his lips and he leaned back, resting his head on the gaming chair. You bit your lip in an attempt to stifle your own moans as he stretched you with his considerable size.

"fuck," you whispered to yourself, fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure mixed with a bit of pain as you adjusted to his size.

"You're so good to me, mommy. Your pussy was made for me, I swear," Chris whispered, gazing into your eyes before closing his own as you began to move.

His large hands firmly gripped your waist, urging you to quicken the pace, his movements expertly hitting your sweet spot, eliciting more moans of pleasure from you.

Despite his lips showing signs of strain from his nervous biting, he let out a loud moan as you both reached a peak of pleasure and perfect synchronization.

He paid no mind to the possibility of his brothers hearing him, his focus solely on you and the intense connection between your bodies.

"Mommy," he whimpered, his blue eyes fixed on you in disbelief at the overwhelming pleasure. Despite his usual dominance, the way you made love to him drove him to the brink of madness.

As you continued, he found himself unable to decide where to touch you - whether to hold onto your hips, waist, breasts, or thighs - as his mind was clouded by ecstasy.

His climax was building, but he knew yours had not yet arrived. Despite struggling to contain himself, he couldn't hold back any longer.

"Can I cum, please, mommy?" he pleaded loudly when he felt your walls tightening around him.

You bit your lip, nodding as you quickened the pace. He closed his eyes tightly, gripping the handle of his gaming chair as he released inside you.

You reached your peak with him, your essence mingling and dripping onto the chair as Chris tried to catch his breath from his release.

"Fuck... mommy," he muttered, still breathless. He caressed your cheek, both of you still recovering. "Darling...?" he hesitated.

You nodded but avoided his gaze, intending to stand up from his lap. However, he gently whined and persuaded you to remain seated, still connected to him.

He tenderly lifted your chin to meet his gaze, and as you did, he smiled and kissed your lips. "I love you, baby," he whispered.

"I love you too," you replied, brushing his sweaty hair away from his face, while he was captivated by your eyes in that moment.

A brief silence passed between you before he hesitated and considered asking you a question.

"Can we cockwarm?" he inquired, gazing at you with puppy eyes. You were willing, but mindful of the need to clean up. "Now?" you questioned.

He nodded and embraced you, knowing your preference for aftercare, yet pleading he speaks innocently, "Please, darling?" with a furrowed brow.

You rolled your eyes but relented, agreeing to his request before embracing him. "Only for a few minutes," you stated, and though he didn't promise, you both understood that he would likely prolong the aftercare session.

[logicalpearl]

Hi, Mrs. Hughes...

quinn hughes x reader

synopsis: where y/n meets the family for the first time...in a slightly compromising position...

warnings: suggestive themes, allusions to sex, heavy makeouts, MINORS DNI, 18+

wc: 1.7k

*not my gif*

It wasn't y/n's first time staying the night at Quinn's apartment. In fact, it had become quite normal during their time together. Quinn and y/n had only been seeing each other for about 2 months. Quinn hadn't even told his family about you yet. He was enjoying the time with you all by himself. He knew the second he introduced you to his family that they would fall in love with you the same way he had.

Jack and Luke would be absolutely smitten with the prospect of having a sister soon. Jim would love to have his first daughter, and Ellen... well, Ellen would be over the moon to see her eldest so happy.

Quinn absolutely planned to introduce you to his family soon, but he wanted to soak up these moments before he was constantly bombarded by his family.

That is how he found himself this morning, you wrapped in his arms, soft snores coming from your mouth. He watched your chest rise and fall steadily, reaching his hand out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. Maybe it was creepy, but he loved to see you so peaceful. He traced a finger along your cheekbone and watched as your lashes fluttered and a small smile graced your lips.

"Good morning, handsome," you whispered to Quinn as you slowly opened your eyes, meeting his gaze. Quinn dipped his head down to place a chaste kiss on your lips before responding, "Good morning, angel. Did you sleep well?" Quinn already knew the answer to this, yet he still asked you every morning. You sat up against the headboard of his bed and interlaced your fingers with his, "I always sleep well in your arms, Quinny."

Quinn sat up as well, pulling your intertwined hands to his lips to kiss the back of your hand. "You flatter me, babe. I'm glad you slept well because I know I did." He leaned over again to give you a kiss. it was sweet and you could feel the love he poured into it. You felt his tongue sweep across your lower lip, a slight groan reverberating from his chest as you opened for him. Before it could get any further you pulled away, rubbing your thumb across his lips, "Handsome, as much as I love your kisses, my breath is absolutely gross and we need to get ready for today."

Quinn groaned and fell back against the pillows. Ah yes, today. The day of the infamous Hughes Bowl and the day you would be meeting his whole family. He hadn't even told them that you would be there. He wanted it to be a complete surprise.

He rolled out of bed, kissing the top of your head on the way by as he made his way to the bathroom for his morning shower. You slowly got out of bed, making it and putting all of the pillows back against the headboard. You walked into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and telling Quinn that you would be making breakfast for when he gets out of the shower.

You slipped on one of Quinn's hoodies and a pair of sleep shorts before walking out to the kitchen. You opened the fridge, eyeing the leftover pancake mix from the previous morning. Pulling out the mix along with some fresh fruit you began heating up a skillet and prepping the fruit. You heard the shower stop and knew Quinn would be out in just a few minutes for breakfast.

You were standing at the stove flipping pancakes when you felt two strong arms wrap around you from behind. Quinn peppered kisses along the side of your neck before humming, "Thanks for making breakfast, angel. Do you need any help?" You flipped the last pancake before shutting off the burner and turning to face Quinn, "All set, handsome. if you want you can pull out the orange juice from the fridge? Or you can brew some coffee, I didn't get that far yet."

Quinn released you from his hold and moved to grab the juice out of the fridge. You grabbed two plates out and dished out servings for you and Quinn, placing them on the counter and waiting for him.

You and Quinn stood in silence eating your breakfast, simply soaking up the silence. Both of you knowing that tonight would likely be a whirlwind and neither of you would be able to get away. After finishing your meals, you set the plates in the sink, getting ready to wash them. Before you could get very far you felt two strong hands grip your waist. In one quick motion, Quinn had spun you around, lifted you up, and set you on the countertop.

You let out a quiet gasp as Quinn stepped in between your legs. Your hands coming up to the nape of his neck and looking into his eyes. He looked at you like he was still hungry, like he wanted to devour you in this moment. You opened your mouth to say something but instead he grabbed the back of your neck and brought your lips to meet his. The only way you could describe this kiss was dirty. Quinn kissed you like it would be the last time. One of his hands curled around your waist to pull you closer until your legs were wrapping around his waist. Your hands moved from his neck to comb through his hair, lightly tugging until he was groaning into your mouth.

Quinn pulled away, trailing his lips down your neck as his hand slipped up your (his) hoodie. His lips detached from you for only a moment to pull the hoodie up and over your head, depositing it on the counter behind you. Left only in your tiny sleep shorts and a white cropped tank top that you slept in. Not wearing a bra, the cold air immediately made your nipples peak beneath our shirt. Quinn took notice of this and leaned down to mouth at your collarbone while his thumb came up to rub over your nipple. Your body arched into his as you felt the pleasure flow through you. You gasped as he lightly pinched your nipple, "Oh god! Quinn- I- it's so good. You're so good, handsome... Please!"

You could feel Quinn smiling against your neck as he relished in your whines, "Please what, angel? What do you need, use your words, honey." Now your hands were grabbing at the back of Quinn's shirt, your hips bucking forward, trying to seek some friction. Quinn gave you a little reprieve and brought his mouth back to yours while his fingers trailed to your inner thigh.

Both of you were so caught up in the moment that neither of you heard the front door open. You also didn't hear the sound of voices coming from the hallway, coming closer to you both.

"Quinn! Honey, we came to see yo- OH!"

Both you and Quinn pulled apart to see not only Mrs. Hughes, but the rest of the Hughes behind her as well. Ellen's eyes were wide as she watched you slide off the counter, hastily pulling the previously discarded hoodie over your head. Jack and Luke were standing there trying their best to hold in their laughter. Jim stood there just smiling softly.

You and Quinn both stood there with flushed cheeks before you finally spoke up, "Mr. and Mrs. Hughes it is great to finally meet you. Plus Jack and Luke! Quinn has told me so much about you all!"

You were trying your best not to burst into tears, having been caught by your boyfriend's family, who you hadn't even met yet, in such a compromising position was beyond embarrassing. Quinn was quick to jump in after the shock had worn off, "Mom, dad, this is y/n. My girlfriend of about 2 months. I was going to introduce you to her tonight at the game but clearly that did not go as planned..." Quinn trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before meeting his mom's eyes.

She seemed to break out of her trance when she made eye contact with Quinn, she cleared her throat before smiling and rounding the counter. She pulled you into a tight hug and then Quinn, kissing his cheek lightly. She stepped back from both of you,"y/n it is so great to meet you, dear. I can't believe Quinny here has been able to keep you a secret!" She shot Quinn a slight glare before addressing him, "Quinn, why on earth would you keep her from us?! We want to know you are happy, sweetheart. I can see you are from the way you look at her, but let your mother know!"

Quinn smiled at his mom sheepishly before shrugging. y/n let out a little giggle at that, looking over at Jack and Luke. Once she made eye contact with them they both burst out laughing. Jack nearly falling over as he cackled at his older brother. The rest of the men made their way over, giving y/n a hug and telling her how happy they were to meet her.

Quinn easily fell into conversation with his dad and younger brothers, while his mom turned to y/n, "Dear, we really are so excited to meet you! Please do not call me Mrs. Hughes, it makes me feel far too old. Call me Ellen, and we will definitely be texting Quinn before we try to show up again" Ellen let out a laugh, winking at y/n and wrapping her in another hug.

It was safe to say that the Hugheses absolutely loved y/n, even if the meeting was a tad unconventional. They stayed for another hour, talking with both Quinn and y/n about anything and everything before they left. Once they had walked out the door, y/n turned to Quinn, walking up to him and smiling. She then smacked him on the chest, "We are never doing anything in the kitchen ever again! That was so embarrassing!" She whined at him while he just tucked her into his chest and smiled.

At least she could say that meeting the family was done and over with...

note: my first time writing and posting it! let me know if you like it :)

[pitchsidestories]

taste II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1018

a/n: dear readers, this short, a little silly but cute oneshot was inspired by this request here, happy reading. 🫶🏻 🐈‍⬛

Autumn has finally arrived in Barcelona. Leaves painted in red, orange and yellow started to fall from the trees for one last dance. Baghera was entranced by what nature did and watched everything from her favourite spot in the living room close to the window.

Every year you both were falling in love with that season of the year, as it might be an ending to a summer you fully lived, but also the beginning of something fresh and new.

The champion’s league was about to start and games under the lights were always something special, alone the thought of it filled you with giddy excitement.

“Girls, I invited Esmee for dinner. That’s alright, right?”, you asked your girlfriends who were already in the kitchen.

“Yes, of course, kjaerste.”, Ingrid nodded friendly, standing in front of the stove. While Mapi was launching around in one of the chairs in a sitting position which screamed gay, and parents would judge because of bad posture.

“She was so sad that her parents left again. I thought she could use the distraction.”, you continued. The sad face of the young player was still fresh in your memory.

As a foreign player yourself you knew that being separated from your family for such long periods of time was hard especially when the nights got colder and the daylight shorter.

When you first came to Barcelona at Esmee’s age you were glad that Mapi and Ingrid welcomed you into their home with open arms, the appartement you began to share with them turning into a home away from home soon.

“That’s very sweet of you.”, the Norwegian commented, her forehead covered in frowning lines, looking concentrated at the recipe ahead of her.

“What’s for dinner?”, Mapi questioned smirking.

“I’ve something delicious planned.”, Ingrid announced delighted.

The Spaniard and you took a curious glance at the cookbook before exclaiming, faces formed to disgusted grimaces. “Pumpkin soup?!”

“Why do I have two children, one who has no patience and the other has the taste bud of a toddler?”, the dark-haired women groaned in response.

“Excuse me?”, you replied, pretending to be offended.

“I said what I said.”, Ingrid declared who tried her best to suppress a smile.

“Can’t you make some chicken nuggies?”, you asked your girlfriend, giving her puppy-eyes which you hoped would warm her Scandinavian heart. Often this worked out perfectly fine.

“Please, please, please.”, Mapi supported your suggestion loudly.

“Girls, seriously?”, Ingrid sighed, the defender and you knew from her sigh alone that you both had won in the question of what’s going to be for dinner.

A knocking on the door interrupted the discussion. You opened the door for Esmee and led her into the kitchen.

“Hi everyone. Ingrid, what are you cooking? Can I help you?”, the young player asked politely, peeking over the shoulder of the tall Norwegian.

“I’m making pum-…“, she started, one last attempt to get someone on her side.

“We’re having chickie nuggies!”, Mapi and you announced simultaneously.

Finally, Ingrid gave in: “Yes, we’re having chicken nuggets…“

“Thanks, love.“, you thanked her, beaming.

A small smile appeared on her face as she nudged your side: “You’re lucky I love you two so much.“

“We love you too, amor.“, Mapi replied, kissing Ingrids right cheek while you got on your tiptoes to kiss her left.

Esmee cleared her throat, making sure you hadn’t forgotten that you had a visitor.

Blushing, Ingrid pushed the two of you away and got to work.

You grinned at Esmee: “Hope you like nuggets, Esmee.“

She nodded happily, looking a bit relieved that it wasn’t pumpkin soup: “I do.“

“Then sit down while Ingrid shows us her cooking skills.“, you joked.

Ingrid rolled her eyes next to you. Of the three of you, she was definitely the best cook so making chicken nuggets was beneath her actual cooking skills.

Still, she managed to present you with a batch of perfectly crispy nuggets, a homemade dipping sauce and a bowl of fresh salad. You were all athletes after all.

“This is…“; Esmee said between two mouthfuls of salad.

“Delicious as always.“, Mapi completed the sentence for her, gleefully biting into a nugget.

Ingrid smiled across the table, seemingly happy that you all enjoyed her food: “Thank you, girls.“

“You’re the best cook.“, you agreed with the others.

“I’ll try the pumpkin soup another time though.“, the Norwegian warned you jokingly.

“I promise we’ll try it then.“, you assured her. It was only fair that she would get her pumpkin soup.

“Appreciate it.“

The food was quickly gone, leaving the table cluttered with empty dishes.

Mapi leaned back in her chair with a yawn: “Now time for a nap.“

“Thanks for the dinner, girls.“, Esmee said after she made sure that Ingrid didn’t want any help washing dishes.

“No worries, you’re always welcome here.“, you assured the young player and pulled her into a quick hug before she left.

You smiled to yourself as you closed the door behind her, you loved providing a safe space for the young players, making sure they had everything they needed even if it was just dinner.

“Y/n, Ingrid, hurry up!”, you heard Mapi call from the living room.

Ingrid left the kitchen, rolling her eyes: “That kid has no patience.“

“You still love it.“, you laughed as the two of you entered the living room where Mapi laid sprawled out on the sofa.

“Come into my arms, my loves.“, she laughed, making space for both of you on each side.

You didn’t even think twice as you launched yourself onto the sofa: “Coming!”

“All here.“, Ingrid smiled as she took the other side of the sofa.

Mapi sighed with content, wrapping one arm around each of you: “That’s how I like it.“

“Sandwiched on the sofa? We know.“, you teased her.

Ingrid chuckled lightly, reaching over Mapi and intertwined her fingers with yours: “Me too. With my two favourite children.“

With her eyes already closed, Mapi mumbled something unintelligible, already snoozing.

You cuddled closer into her side.

There was nothing better to do on your free day.

[bunny-jpeg]

unhinged

lando norris

cw: possessive!lando, smut/pwp, biting, doggy style, filthy, bratty!reader, jacket wearing, rough sex

bunny says: i apologize to the f1 fandom for this <3

lando was in a bit of shock. in the bright afternoon sunlight, there you were in a floral printed sundress and you had a pen in your hand. you were leaning into leclerc after his 25 point win.

you were smiling at him, but your attention was caught by your boyfriend for a brief moment before you went back to writing on leclerc's hand. you whispered something in his ear before you walked away.

lando saw red but couldn't act on them. not while the cameras were still rolling. so with a big inhale and a deeper exhale, he put on a smile and went to go say hello to the winner of the race.

you'd be dealt with later.

-

the hotel in monte carlo was beautiful. with the sun fading into night, you knew that your time was ticking. after your little stunt with leclerc, you knew that lando would be rather pissed off at you.

you just can't be flirting with the competition like that! you should know better by now, after all you had been with lando for the past two years. there were stick guidelines (while unofficial) that the girlfriend of a driver must follow. and that meant not flirting with other drivers.

so when you heard the door to your hotel room open and close, followed by lando's driver's jacket being thrown onto the bed, you knew it was showtime.

you looked over your shoulder at him and gave him a little wave. he looked at you from your spot on the bed.

"put it on.. and only that." he said as he started to undress, "hands and knees when you're done." his tone was a little more stern then what you were used to your boyfriend sounding like.

you got up off the bed and started to undress, you were facing him. you could see and feel his eyes on you, his stare lingered.

"leclerc..." he said, "what did you write on his hand anyway?"

you replied with a sly smile, "my number." it was a bold face lie, you didn't actually write anything on him.

lando bit the inner part of his cheek, "then it'll be a spank for every number you wrote down." he was naked soon after and watched with a hungry gaze as you slipped the jacket on.

the orange was a little comical, especially with the branding. but when you dipped your nose into the collar it smelled like him. not just the wash he used that morning, but also his sweat.

it wasn't baggy on you, but it was his sign of ownership. you in nothing but the hazard orange jacket.

he nodded his head, "on the bed."

you got into bed, on top of the soft white covers. your ass in the air and your face in the pillow. his gaze lingered as he kneel beside you. one hand in your hair and the other on your ass.

"i love you too much." he said, "i don't want anyone to take you from me. you're my girl." his tone was laced with possessiveness. between the two men there was a bit of rivalry, so your little stunt didn't help either.

you nodded into the pillow, before you could say anything. he landed his hand across your ass. you jumped and held onto the pillow under your head. the noise you made was tight and short.

"count for me." he said.

you dutifully counted every smack that crossed your ass, totaling to ten. he rubbed your cheek soon after and loomed over you. his cock was hard as he rubbed it up against your pussy.

"you're soaked." he remarked with his hands on your hips, "why do i have a feeling that this was all some kind of set up." he leaned over you with his mouth against your ear, "to make me jealous."

"i would never." you replied.

"right, right." he said with a short chuckle, "so plainly obvious, you watched me as you were talking to him." his chest was pressed against his jacket on your back. his lips trailed down to your neck before he started to leave bites on the left side.

you whined but he kept you down on the bed. you could feel the skin getting bruised on your neck from his mouth. and you knew you'd be in a panic trying to cover it up in the morning.

the wetness between your legs grew as you laid under him. you felt owned in a strange way.

"you try to get with my friend, rival even. i bet you wanted this. to be under me." he remarked when he was finished with your neck. even in the low light of the bedroom he could see the dark reds and purples on your skin.

his cock was pressed up against your slit, threatening to sink in and fuck you. he could see you were tense as a bow and soaked like the rain.

"never." you replied, your voice wavered.

he chuckled, "right, right." he said before he sank his cock into your slick pussy. fully inserting himself with one hard thrust. he gripped your hips and felt his heart in his throat from the intensity of it all.

he knew it was an act that you got leclerc in on. he had enough faith in your relationship to know that you wouldn't just run off like that. you just wanted a rise outta him.

"you like that, huh?" he asked, "you like how i feel?"

you muttered something into the pillows, but the last part got stuck in your throat as he started to thrust as a rougher pace. the bed creaked under the both of you as he hammered his cock into you.

no formalities, just hot sex.

his jacket clung to your body the hotter you got. you panted wildly into the covers and arched your back as much as you could. the pleasure coursed through your bloodstream. you tried to kick out your legs but he had you properly pinned down to the bed.

"you're not going anywhere." he said. he kissed the shell of your ear, "you want to play stupid little games. well, i'm just going to have fuck them out of you." his pace was brutal from the start.

and you loved it. the hammering in your chest had you seeing stars with every hard thrust of his hips.

"please, lando." you whimpered.

"no, no." he said, "you don't get to ask for anything." his grip tighten on your hips as he continued to move against you. the angle he fucked you in made it feel like his cock was in your throat.

you felt like you belonged to lando. from the marks on your neck, to the jacket on your back to the cock in your pussy. you were lando's girl.

you raked your nails on the sheets and panted wildly into them. heat pooled in your gut as you felt like you were edging close to orgasm.

his heart leapt at the sight of you. so beautiful with your wet pussy slick around his cock. his pace was becoming unsteady. he pressed his forehead against your back as he gave a few more heavy thrusts.

you came first, you clenched around him and moaned loudly into the pillows. your head was dizzy as you started to come down from the sexual high.

he pulled out quickly and finished on the back of your thighs, cum dripped down them and onto the bed. he left quite a mess on you. but smirked to himself possessively. maybe he should snap a picture and send to leclerc. that'll teach him.

but he wasn't done with you yet. you two had a whole night together.

-

"hey charles." you said late into the evening, your backside still ached from when lando took you from behind earlier in the night. you rubbed the ache in your neck as you said, "well, that went well."

"he better not kill me." leclerc said on the other end of the line, "i don't want to be involved in your sex life after this. i hope you got what you wanted, but leave me out of it."

you looked over at lando whose face was buried in the soft pillows of your hotel room. you reached over and rubbed his back a little as you replied, "don't worry charles, you'll be left out. i promise. but thank you."

he replied, "whatever. have a good night."

you hung up the phone and put it on the nightstand. you got back under the crisp white covers with your lover. you snuggled up next to him, you knew you'd have to find a way to hide the hickies or the press would have a field day.

but it was worth it. so worth it. <3

[dorabellingham]

Underwear

warning: smut; +18

characters: jude x fem!reader

summary: when you go to pick him up at the training center and things end up heating up along the way

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You were waiting for Jude outside the training ground. The sun was starting to set in Madrid, painting the sky a soft orange, and the cool afternoon breeze caressed your face. Dressed in a skirt that hugged your curves and a low-cut blouse that made Jude very interested, you already had a plan in mind. Today was not an ordinary day — You wanted something more... intense, more fun.

You could see from afar when he came out of the locker rooms, his short hair still wet from the quick shower he had taken. His white shirt was a little stuck to his body because of the water he hadn't dried properly. He walked towards you, with a tired look, but full of that familiar smile that melted your heart every time you saw him.

However, this time, it was you who had something in mind. You couldn't take your eyes off his body —The way his shirt outlined the muscles he'd just worked, his hair still messy from training, his strong arms that made you feel safe but also left you with other intentions.

When Jude approached, before even greeting him like he always did, you pulled his arm closer, making your bodies meet quickly.

—Hi, sweetheart...

He began, surprised by the gesture, but soon noticing the spark in your gaze.

—Hi, babe... —You answered provocatively, with a low voice, your face very close to his. —I was waiting for you, but... I have to confess something. —You said, your tone of voice getting lower and more insinuating.

—And what is it?

He asked, arching an eyebrow, already understanding that something was in the air, but without taking away his smile.

You moved even closer, slowly running your hands over his chest, feeling the tense muscles under the thin fabric of his shirt. You bit your lip lightly before answering, letting the anticipation hang in the air.

—I think I have a certain... desire to take you home now, but not just to rest, you know?

You said, leaving a soft kiss on his neck, just below his ear. The light touch of your lips made Jude take a deep breath.

Bellingham already knew what that meant. You had that way of teasing without saying everything, but doing enough to make him crazy with the desire to tear you away from there and take you where you could be alone. And he could feel it just by the way you touched him, how your eyes shone with a desire that you weren’t trying to hide.

—Do you have a plan, Y/n?

He asked, his voice coming out huskier than he intended, while his hands naturally went to your waist, holding you tight.

—A plan? —You answered, feigning innocence for a second, but soon laughing softly. —Maybe... Maybe I do. What do you say we skip dinner and go straight to... something else?

You slid your hands to his shoulders, running your fingers over the tense muscles and then slowly down to his chest, where you stopped, your eyes still fixed on his. The heat between them was growing, and you knew it. You knew the effect you had on Jude, and you used it with confidence, especially in moments like this, when every inch of your body seemed to scream for him.

—You know, you should be more tired after training... —You teased, your voice even lower, as your face got dangerously close to his. —But from what I see... —You glanced down at his body, biting your lip again. —I think you still have energy to burn.

Jude laughed, his voice muffled as he held your waist a little tighter, his eyes never leaving yours.

—You’re driving me crazy, you know that?

He murmured, the tension between you growing more intense. He was starting to understand what you wanted, and the truth was that he wanted nothing more than to take his wife home and put an end to this teasing.

—That’s the idea.

You replied, with a smile that was anything but innocent.

—So, what do you say we get out of here now?

He suggested, his voice low and full of desire. Jude pulled you a little closer, your bodies almost touching now, and he could feel your heat against his own body.

You smiled, feeling the shiver that ran down your spine just from his touch. You were anxious for what would come next, but you also wanted to enjoy every second of this anticipation, this tension that made you almost forget where you were.

—I think it’s perfect.

You said, holding his hand as you started walking to the car, both of you with smiles knowing very well what was to come.

The drive home seemed longer than usual, with the tension between you growing by the second. Jude kept teasing you with his looks and subtle touches on your arm, and you, in turn, were almost out of patience, gripping the steering wheel tighter at every turn.

Finally, when you arrived home, Jude didn't even wait for you to turn off the car properly before pulling you into an intense kiss, as if he wanted to make up for all the hours of waiting. You reciprocated with the same intensity, his hands going straight to your waist, squeezing you as if you never wanted to let go.

You laughed between kisses, pulling away for a second only to say, teasingly:

—Let's see if you still have energy after this workout, Bellingham.

He didn't think much, he didn't even have time to think, he just pulled you onto his lap quickly and practically. He was in the passenger seat, there was no steering wheel and it was more spacious, for the first time, you thanked the heavens that your husband didn't know how to drive.

Your hands ran over the fabric of the shirt he was wearing, and skillfully unbuttoned all the buttons, Jude sighed at the action and you smiled victoriously.

—You know, having you on top of me in this car is like being in paradise.

You laughed and began to leave light kisses on the boy's neck, who squeezed your waist trying to contain his desire.

—Paradise, Jude? We haven't even started yet and you're already like this?

He laughed and took off your shirt to access your warm skin, which shivered at his touch, you gasped softly and caressed the back of his neck. The desire was palpable and you felt the need to be closer and closer to each other.

The parking lot looked morbid, it was dark and there was no sound around, you internally hoped that no one would decide to leave now and that you could have that moment just for yourselves. Bellingham continued trailing kisses down your neck and his fingers ran over your bra, looking for the clasp so he could get rid of it. The small piece of fabric was really getting in the way of his work.

You tried to move and bring your hands to your back to help him with the task, but before you could do it, one of his big hands grabbed both of yours.

—Sweetheart, calm down. We have all the time in the world, whether it’s here in the car, in the kitchen, in the living room, in the bedroom... Anywhere you want, but let’s take it slow, enjoy everything, okay?

He unclasped your bra and removed the piece quickly, making your back relax as you felt the pressure decrease. You could feel Jude’s gaze burning into your skin, appreciating every little bit that was exposed, it wasn’t much, but he loved you too much not to appreciate anything. The piece slipped down your arms and he threw it somewhere in the car, you would probably spend some time the next day picking up the pieces from the car, but none of that mattered.

His mouth was half open, and he slowly approached the bare skin of your chest, his hands left your waist and went to your breasts and his fingers began to play with, as did his mouth that seemed too skilled for the region. You moaned softly and held on to the back of the seat, Jude laughed and the little air that came out seemed too exciting to you.

You weren't in the mood, you wanted to feel Jude like that and you wanted it now. Your hands went to his belt, the sound of the piece being removed along with your weak moans were music to his ears, if that beginning was heaven, this was the beyond for him. You pulled his pants down to his thighs, enough so you could sit on him, enough to drive you crazy.

—J-Jude... Let's get on w-with it.

He laughed, pulled his hands away from your body and smiled, his lips moist in a tempting way. You kissed him, grabbing the short, curly strands of his hair. Bellingham spread your legs, placing one on each side of his waist, there was only a skirt and a useless soaked fabric in his way, but it wasn't a problem, not for him. Jude pulled the pieces apart with his fingers and you moaned, almost begging for more contact.

—Jude, please...

You begged, holding the boy's wrist and trying to create some more contact with the area.

He laughed sadistically and placed a chaste kiss on each of your breasts, which sent a shiver through your body. You rolled your eyes when you felt two of his fingers inside you, the sound of something wet and your moans made him even more anxious to be inside you.

To him, it was almost comical how wet you got just by looking at him, it was comical how you tried to close your legs while he put his fingers in and out of you, but he was much bigger and you didn't have the strength for that.

The moans with his name started to get louder, the speed at which he moved his fingers also got louder and with that, you just wanted more. You wanted him to fuck you in every way, but the space was too small for the 6.1 feet tall man.

You squeezed his arm, asking him not to stop and to keep going at the same pace, and he, like a good husband, obeyed you. You came on his fingers and he could only smile at the sight.

—Sweetheart, you’re outdoing yourself every day. I can’t stand it much longer with my wife getting hotter every time I take her clothes off.

You laughed, still a little dazed, you could feel your pulse down there and stared at Bellingham with a look that said more than a thousand words, but even so, you wanted to say them.

—Fuck me already, Jude.

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹。and my body keeps saying (it's yours) | gojo satoru

wc: 1.6k

summary: gojo thinks this is different, new, almost like it’s the first time for everything.

contains: f!reader in mind but no specifics are mentioned, 18+/mature/soft-slight n*ft/w, sex with feelings (it’s really just vanilla tho!), first time!, there’s an awkward bit but that’s intentional!, lots of nervous feelings! but also lots of intimacy!

a/n: for nonie.🫧 who asked about what it would be like for their first time! title is inspired by an emotional oranges song, devotion (which i used as music inspo for the entire fic too + troye sivan, what a heavenly way to die). this is also my first time writing anything close to n*fw so please be kind! idk if i’ll ever write one again; takes place between tell me about love (show me how) and so this is what it means to be in love!

collection masterlist: conversations on love 02. tell me about love (show me how) <- you are here -> +02 (extra). look my way, you're what i crave

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT.

It’s a touch—

—fingertips brushing the edge of his jaw, trailing down his neck, lightly, delicately.

Gojo kisses you beneath the glow of your bathroom lights and he twitches, just a little bit. 

“Sorry,” you stop, attempting to pull away from him immediately. 

His neck is sensitive, always has been since Toji. The mark has faded over the years; what used to be a line running through the shadow of his jawline is now nothing, but you know the feeling lingers, still. You’ve tried to avoid the area as much as you could—while sparring, hugging, kissing; holding him in moments as intimate as this. But sometimes, your fingers slip, and he jolts, so you move away, apologetic—

And he wishes that you didn’t, wishes that he didn’t have to react that way when all he really wants is for you to hold him like this.

He stares at you now, lips puffed and kiss-bitten, and thinks, he shouldn’t even be here—

—at 2:00 a.m., in your apartment, fresh out of a three-day assignment he caught the last train for, just to see you. 

He shouldn’t even be here, bone-tired in a black t-shirt and track pants he couldn’t be bothered with—there just wasn’t enough time to change out of it. 

And he really shouldn't even be here, except, he cut the assignment two days short, rushed through it, restless, eager at the thought of getting back soon. 

All because he missed you. 

Gojo keeps you close, his fingers splayed on the base of your spine, warm and pressing. You can’t read him, his next move, but his eyes hold lightning crackling. He takes your hand and guides it back to where he’s weakest, underneath his jaw, on his neck—healed skin and tissue, his lifeline to you.

“Keep it,” he murmurs, eyes piercing. 

He still twitches when you touch his skin, but it’s always been involuntary. You should know that it could never be because of you, your hands that hold every good thing his heart carries. 

You lean in first, tiptoeing, nudging his nose with yours and your lips hovering. His pulse point rests beneath your fingertips—can you feel how fast it’s beating? Just from having you near him? 

The tips of his hair tickle your forehead and he swallows, throat bobbing. It’s impossible to resist him when he’s this boyish, this charming, so you kiss his lips once, before pulling away, teasing. He bites his lips, red blooming against pink, and you don’t know exactly what you’re anticipating—

But he leans in. 

When you kiss again, the feeling is familiar, a memory of trembling lips and shaky breaths by a bathroom door that isn’t yours. He doesn’t tremble anymore, isn’t as stiff when he has your lips memorized among many other things, but Gojo still flushes the same way your cheeks heat up and your breaths intermingle at the same rate your hearts race.  

You follow where the lights have diffused into your hallway, this dance with him a push-and-pull you’ve done a few times before. He keeps his palm flat on your lower back, pushing you closer, while pulling you towards your bedroom door.  

His hands slide to your waist, dipping you, grip tightening as you bite his lips, tugging. He moans softly, voice low when your hands rake through his hair, the vibrations rippling through your mouth. Your fingers grasp at the short strands of hair at the back of his head, sighing when his lips are released from yours. 

There’s a moment where you catch his eyes, pupils blown a dangerous blue—a sky swallowing you whole before he begins trailing kisses down your neck, nips and licks evidence of just how greedy he is with you. 

A heat builds within you, rooted deep in your belly as you stay pressed against the outline on his crotch. 

It’s hard to imagine a time before all this, how he even struggled to hold your hand when he touches you now like this. 

You stumble over his feet as he backs into your bedroom, steadied only by his hold on you. You chuckle, a small ‘oops’, so sweet, as your collarbone clashes with his teeth. He smiles, lips curled against your skin as he teases, “So clumsy,” 

He’s kissed you this much before, has held you this tight, and touched you much more but this feeling between you now, he can tell—

Tonight is different. 

You lead him this time, to the edge of your bed as you keep him closer, hands all over him. When you lie down, lower lip caught between your teeth, you smile shyly but your eyes burn sinfully, and Gojo wonders if you know that this is what he sees when he’s dreaming. 

He moves closer, your mattress dipping as he hovers above you, arms caging the sides of your face. His head is spinning, eyes zeroing in on the skin exposed by the single button undone on your pajama top. 

When you cup his cheeks, thumb running across his swollen lips—

He thinks he might go crazy. 

You have no idea what you just did. 

He takes a breath before pressing every bit of his longing onto your neck, kissing, sucking, licking, imprinting proof that he was here, with you. It’s red and blotchy, situated right underneath your ear and it’s one too many but still not enough—for him, never enough.

You gasp, tugging at the hem of his shirt, and it’s overwhelming, this feeling. As quickly as it escalated, Gojo freezes, as if you’ve burned him, as if he’s caught up to what could possibly be happening, and it’s—

It’s a lot. 

He pulls away slowly, eyes wide and breath shaky. The air is thick, hot and heavy, and this—where this is going is something he’s never done before, not entirely. 

You sit up, alarmed, hands cradling his face carefully. His eyes are frantic, nervous, blinking at a pace that only makes you worried. 

“We can stop,” you mumble, lowering your hands to take his, gently.

He sees you, hair a mess, marked his, beautiful, and  he just wants to make sure—that you’re okay with this, that you want this, with him. Truly. 

“Do you want to?” he asks, a sky you could fall into, “Honestly.” 

He breathes out, staring. You gulp before shaking your head. “Do you?”  

And he doesn’t have to think much about it, really, because of course, he doesn’t want to stop. 

How could he, when it’s you?

He shakes his head too and you smile.

You squeeze his hand, guiding it to the buttons of your top, “Okay—”

“We’ve never…” he hesitates, trailing off.

It’s weird because it isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before; you’ve both done things at the very least, just never all the way. And now, with the knowledge that that very fact is going to change—it feels different, new, like it’s the first time for everything. 

You nod, stroking his knuckles to reassure him, “You said you’re a fast learner, right?” 

The nervous laugh you give is oddly comforting, and he remembers that first kiss and the single thought that if he doesn’t do this now, how much longer ‘till he does? 

So he takes it—

—unbuttons your top one-by-one, and he’s a bit shaky, hands clammy, but he gets it off eventually. Then goes his shirt, and your shorts, his pants, a struggle to get past his ankles until you’re both bare, cheeks hot while giggling, like first loves—and maybe it is. 

Gojo sees you stripped down, uncovered, wholly you for the first time and thinks he could die. 

It’s vulnerable and strange as he hovers over you this time, skin-to-skin, but you fit together this way, just right. 

You giggle some more, unable to hide your nervousness. It’s a habit you have—laughing in inappropriate situations, but he thinks it’s cute, so he does it right back. 

Your fingers trace his eyebrows, down to his nose and cheeks, then to his lips, still red and bitten, “You’re so pretty, Satoru. Not fair.” 

He blushes, tips of his ears and neck flushing, “‘Course,” he kisses your nose, pulling away to get a good look at you.

“Have to be if I’m with you.” 

It’s cheesy, and you roll your eyes, laughing full-on but he smiles wider and it feels good knowing that he’ll forever get to share this moment with you. 

“I, uh,” he mumbles, trying to find the words, “have to prep.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” you move, hands reaching for him between you, but he catches your wrist before you touch him, stopping you. 

“Don’t,” he says, firm, face red as he looks straight at you. “I might not…” he doesn’t continue but you know what he means, so you nod, pulling away. 

His hand trails down your body, inching closer to where you need him to be, and it’s sweet you think, because he kisses your lips once before asking, “Can I?” as if he still has to.

You nod, before whispering, “Don’t ask next time.” 

Next time, you said and it rings, echoes in his head as a promise for more—that this is just the beginning. 

So he touches you, in every way he thinks you should be, in every way he knows you want to be. 

There’s a gasp, then a moan as he leaves another mark on your neck, and you’re so close when he stops. 

You whimper, but you know what’s next, and you see it in his eyes as he prepares himself, fingers discarding a square packet, “You’ll let me know?” he whispers, soft, concerned.

You’ll let me know if I hurt you? he means, and his eyes stare into yours, sincere. 

You nod, brushing your lips against his, and when you feel it—it’s unusual, maybe a bit uncomfortable but he’s there kissing it away. 

There’s an adjustment, a few awkward positions until he finds it, then he goes slow, rhythmic. Your sighs grow louder and he groans, withholding, then you say it—

“‘Toru,”

—by his ear, soft and breathy, and he’s gone, stilling and spilling, a part of him forever yours, irrevocably. 

thank you notes: to nonie.🫧 for asking about this in the first place, and to niku (@stellamancer) for emotional support and for reading this first!! + for helping me go over it!! i love u niku 😭

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[asapeveryday]

The Last Time Pt1

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex

Summary: You rarely go out due to how hard your classes are, but a rare outing to a Halloween party draws you to a certain blonde’s attention.

Authors note: Not my first fic, but my first time writing for Paige, or writing anything on this app!!!im nervous asf but it’s okay 😇 pls point out any spelling mistakes pls I write these at like 2am.

Minors DNI beyond the cut!!

The house was one of the massive ones off campus, white picket fences and a big kitchen perfect for partygoers to escape the loud music. Fall had turned the hot, humid and vibrant summer nights into colder ones. Streets were littered with brown and orange leaves, and houses decorated with cobwebs and blow-up ghosts.

Your friends were used to going out for Halloween parties, but you never really bothered. Your classes just got harder by the year, so you always put off a long night out. To you it was worth it, because your grades were top 3 in your program.

“When was the last time you even got laid?” Your best friend asks you.

You shrug. “I dunno. July?”

“Whatever.” She sighs, realizing it wasn’t as bad as she thought. “Still, that’s like almost 3 months of no puss. Please just come to this party, it’ll be fun!” She whines.

“Isn’t it early for a Halloween party? It’s only the 20th. We still have a week. Plus, I don’t have a costume.” You say, hoping she’ll let you stay home.

“You don’t understand, this is massive. A Halloween-birthday-party is not one that you wanna miss” She beams at you. “And I have a basketball jersey you can wear for the night. Wear shorts with it, be sexy.”

“Shorts?? It’s October!” You groan.

Regardless, you found yourself inside of this house. Your friend wasn’t lying when she said this was a pretty big party, with all the people shoving up against you it was uncomfortable to be in in your sleeveless jersey and black shorts. The kitchen was slightly less rowdy so you started to search the fridge for some comfort in the form of food or alcohol before you heard a cough behind you.

“Yo.”

You turn only to find yourself having to look up at a much taller girl. Her blonde hair was long and down on her shoulders, except for the front pieces which were Dutch-braided closer to her head. She was wearing a really casual outfit, a matching Nike tracksuit. The only thing remotely Halloween-y thing on her was the pair of fake Angel wings on her back.

“Nice costume.” You almost scoff.

“You can’t be talkin. What are you, a fangirl?” She looks down at you. Her eyes are so blue you almost stumble backwards into to fridge.

“Fair.” You sheepishly smile at her. “It was really last minute, this isn’t even my jersey.”

“That’s cus it’s mine.” The mystery blonde laughs.

Immediately you look down at yourself, a white number 5 is sprawled against the navy fabric of the women’s basketball jersey you borrowed. You look up at the blonde again and your face drops.

“Oh shit! You’re-“

“Paige.” She finishes your sentence. “Not a basketball fan?”

“Not really.” You smile. You tell her your name and she repeats it back to you with a smirk that you feel straight in your gut. You’ve rarely seen Paige on campus, so having her right in front of you has helped you realize just how fine she really is.

“The jersey looks good on you.” Her eyes sweep throughout your body.

“You don’t come off as much of an Angel to me.” You raise your eyebrow at her, referring to her half-assed costume. You haven’t heard too many rumours about Paige Bueckers sex life, but you can just tell by her silent confidence, the way she stands and even just the way she looks at you that she gets around. Being a D1 athlete probably helps too.

“You’ll see for yourself soon enough.” She shrugs, maintaining eye contact with you.

“So Paige, is this your place or..”

“Nah. My friends threw this party as a surprise for me. Not even sure who’s crib this is but whatever.” She rubs the back of her neck. “You didn’t come with a gift, did you?” Paige asks.

“No, was I supposed to?”

“It’s my birthday ma, I think you owe me something.” She steps closer, looking at you through her long eyelashes.

You actually feel your heart drop to your ass at this point, and she can tell. Paige cocks her head to the staircase nearby and you almost run after her when she leads you upstairs.

You’re already making out by the time you crash into a bedroom, she slams the door shut and pushes you up against it. You almost faint when you feel her knee between your legs, applying pressure to your clit. She kisses you slowly, taking her time to memorize the feeling of her hands grazing your face, then trailing down your body and finding themselves inside the jersey. Her blonde hair tickles your neck as she starts to trail her kisses downwards.

Paige’s hands trail from your abdomen to your hips, roughly pulling your shorts down and kneeling to be face to face with your heat. You resist the urge to cover yourself from her, and can’t help but think about how awkward you must look from this angle, but she doesn’t seem to care. Gripping your thighs and looking up at you with her ice-blue eyes, she licks a slow stripe onto your already wet undies, chuckling when you shudder.

Pulling your underwear to the side with one hand, she slowly eases her finger inside of you and you throw your head back with a breathy moan that makes her smile. She sucks at your clit while adding another finger, then pumping into you almost on beat to the music blasting downstairs. Her tongue is insane to you, circling your clit so skillfully while curling her fingers inside of you, your knees almost buckle and your hands find her long hair, pushing her head. “Oh my god.” You breathe out. “I’m close.”

“Already?” Paige chuckles into you. When she removes her fingers and quickly replaces them with her mouth, lapping and licking inside of you you almost scream. The vibrations from her voice huffing around you are enough for you to feel that tight, building feeling in your stomach, and you cum right there and then.

She cleans whatever she can before pulling up your shorts for you and kissing you chastely, enough so you can taste yourself on her lips. When she pulls away you slump to the floor, legs twitching.

“Shit!” You embarrassedly mumble. Paige laughs and sits next to you. With both of your backs to the door you turn your head to meet her stare. “Happy birthday.” You laugh. She rubs her face, hiding her smile. “Pfft, thanks.”

“I thought I was supposed to gift you? You just gave me like, the best head I’ve had since I started college.”

“Seeing you fall to the ground at my head game is enough of a gift for me.” She shrugs, a smug look on her face. “Plus, there’s always next time if you wanna make it up to me.”

The two of you exchange numbers, the situation is so unreal to you that you’re convinced this is all some mistake.

“Did you even plan on hooking up with someone tonight?” You ask her suddenly, and she seems surprised at your honesty.

“Uhh…I’m not gonna lie, not really. This party was a surprise, remember?” She sighs. “I think seeing some cute girl in my jersey, totally oblivious, jus did something to me.”

You raise your eyebrow. “You didn’t even get to see what was under it.”

“Don’t tempt me, woman.” She laughs. “I’m exhausted, giving ankle-breaking head does that to you.”

“Shut up.” You say, shoving her lightly.

There’s a pause before you take a chance and say “There’s a good burger place nearby if you want to recharge a bit.”

The minute you say it you regret it. Paige Bueckers was in no hurry to get upstairs with you, there’s no way she’s gonna take you out for food too. Plus, since when did you go out with girls you met at parties?

She looks at you for a second, considering you. Finally she says “Fuck it, why not.”

Paige gets up and you follow after her lead. She laughs at the way you walk down the stairs and the two of you slip out of the house as sneakily as possible. Paige offers to drive you even though it was your suggestion. “What can I say, I love my car.” She smiles.

The burgers are good and her laugh is contagious. The two of you sit in her car while you eat, she almost screams when you steal a fry and you pretend to be annoyed when she takes a sip of your drink in retaliation.

You feel so nervous being around her, Paige seems so sure of herself. You can tell she already knows what she wants out of college, out of basketball, even out of girls. Sometimes, even though you devoted so much time to preforming well academically, you weren’t entirely sure it was all gonna work out for you. You feared all your hard work wouldn’t be worth it in the end.

After a moment of silence, you ask her “Does it ever freak you out, having so many people betting on your success? If I were you I’d be so scared of letting people down.” You disguise your own fear as a question for her. Paige looks at you for a moment, then smiles.

“Yeah, It does. I’ve already had moments where it felt like I let everyone down.” She says, looking down at her leg. “But no success comes without pressure, so I guess feeling that way is more of a blessing from God than anything. It’s like He’s reminding me of everything I have to lose. Ion’ think there’s much wrong with that.”

You’re surprised at how mature her answer is. “There’s no way you’re talking about God after you just gave head to a stranger.” You laugh.

She shrugs, a guilty but satisfied look on her face. “You’re not human if you don’t sin once in a while.”

“Amen.” You smile.

The two of you talk about stupid things until it’s well past midnight, and when she drops you off at your dorm you turn to say “I had more fun then I thought I would tonight.”

Paige smiles, her blue eyes staring holes into yours. “It won’t be the last time you have fun with me.” She says, laughing to herself.

“Shut up.” You nudge her. She shakes her head, and waves at you when you start to walk to your building.

You turn to wave back. Even though you know you can’t be anything serious with Paige, you can’t ignore the warm feeling in your stomach when you think about the night you shared. You seriously hope it won’t be the last time.

[the-californicationist]

he gets his revenge

Part 2 to "he comes closer and closer" -- at @numberonetastemakerwhispers request. <3

TW: explicit consent, sadism, masochism, spanking, degradation

“I know all of your hiding spots, pretty girl,” Price teased you in his low, rumbling voice, “....and I know that this one is your favorite.”

He was right, of course. But, you’d chosen this one on purpose. There was a part of you that wanted to be caught this time. You saw his bare feet pad slowly, skillful and silent, across the concrete floor of the office. You had fled to the base's reference room, and you were hiding under the microfiche machine. It wasn’t big enough to allow him in, but you could just barely squeeze through. 

“You like it because I can’t come in there after you, but...” he leaned his head down to the ground in a half-plank, snarling at you in the orange glow of the machine’s lamplight, “I have a long reach.”

You tried to dodge his hand, but he caught you by the ankle and dragged you out of your burrow like a cat does to a mouse. He flipped you over onto your stomach and shoved your body underneath his. He was still only wearing his gym shorts from before, and his dick remained soft and spent from your earlier edging. He’d asked you to play with him, to edge him, and you had. But, you may have taken it a little too far. Now, he wanted revenge and it was very much at hand. 

“John! Please. I was just doing as you asked!” He loved it when you turned helpless. You raised the register of your voice to a higher pitch, exciting his drive even further, feminizing your movements by over-exaggerating your cowering stance. Doe eyes. Just for him.

“Yeah?” He chuckled darkly, fully unrestrained in this dark office, “Call me by the name I like, love, or else…”

You pressed the first of many buttons,

“John…”

The slap that hit your ass was so hard that it made your body run cold. You couldn’t even scream. It was as if you had been a camera, and your mind had just taken a photo with the flash on. You were dazed by the stinging pain. He was upset, that much was certain. As the burn melted into a masochistic sort of pleasure, tingling out and radiating from the point of impact like a fresh sunburn, you cried out the words he wanted to hear,

“Sorry, Captain! Please…”

He purred like a lion, humming his approval as he pinned you to the dirty floor,

“That’s a good girl. Why can’t you be so good all the time? Such a fuckin’ brat. Needs her Captain to show her how to behave.”

Two more slaps stung sharply through your skin. One was to your ass cheek again, the same aching spot, but the other was to your hamstring on the back of your thigh. That one made you cry out in earnest.

“Mmm, yes. That’s what I like to hear. Sing for me, pretty girl.” 

He took both of his huge hands and smacked them down at the same time on both of your thighs. Your body tried to make sense of the feeling, and you could literally feel the wetness begin to slip out from between your folds, making your pussy lips slide together as you writhed from the pain, trying to escape his trap. 

“Ah! Please, please, Captain. I’m sorry,” you begged, knowing how much he liked it. Second button pressed, you waited for his response. 

“You will be.”

You had truly underestimated his wrath this time, and you were worried that he might actually take it too far. 

He grabbed your pants and raked them down, exposing your ass and thighs. He hummed, running his fingers lightly over the damage,

“Mm, that’s gonna be a bruise, love.”

Price slapped you hard again, just like the first one, but this time on bare skin. You felt it rattle your bones in your body, and you seized up from the pain, involuntarily trying to escape it. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. You had known you’d be a crying mess after his threat to chase you down, but you hadn’t expected to cry so soon. 

He grabbed your hair and yanked your body back into a cruel arch to meet his face as he hunched over you, menacingly. Price had a glare in his eyes that made you imagine him as some sort of animal. Beastial and primal in his ruthlessness. He kissed you, awkwardly and upside-down, licking you more than truly kissing your mouth. He whispered softly into your face, a heavy contrast to the pain he was causing to your body,

“Are you wet for me, love?”

You tried to whisper out a yes, but he was pulling your neck at such an angle that only the air escaped through your gritted teeth. He understood you anyway, letting your body fall back to the floor unceremoniously.

“You are, huh? Let’s see, shall we?” He pulled your ass cheeks apart like he was breaking open a pomegranate, witnessing your plump flesh turn red from his slaps and spill its juices from your swollen lobes.

He seemed pleased, letting out a low whistle and chuckling to himself, delicately fingering your drooling hole, soft and supple, pulsing with anticipation,

“Wow… look at you. My naughty girl craves her punishment, don’t she?”

“No! No, Captain, I - ah!”

The captain used his other hand to smack you hard and fast, three times in the same spot. 

“Oh, fuck. You do like it, love. I can tell. Every time I hit this fat arse...” he slapped you again for effect. You let out a sob. He continued, “...your pretty little cunt grabs my finger and doesn’t want to let me go.” 

He was moaning now, humping his hard length on your thigh, fully erect again and extremely aroused,

“I wanna feel that with my cock, love. Green?”

Price was good about checking in, especially in the middle of a scene. He was patient, and he gave you plenty of processing time, leisurely fingering you while he waited for your consent. You sniffled, nodding,

“Yes, Captain. Green.”

He slapped you twice and left his hand on your ass to fondle it roughly, shaking it like a dog with a rabbit in its mouth. 

“Good. Now, give me what I want.” 

You were openly crying now, tears rolling down your cheeks. You peeked over your shoulder to show him your tears and to watch him push himself into you. He had his shorts rucked down to his knees and his cock in his hand, pointing it towards its target, and as he found it, you watched Price’s face twist into that familiar agony you knew so well.

Teasing him had been enlightening, and you knew that he only made that face when he was on the brink of his pleasure. You decided to press button number three, and you slammed your hips back into him, forcing his cock inside of you all at once as opposed to the controlled entry that he had planned. His eyes went wide with shock, and he looked up at you, just in time to see you hide your grin. The captain’s gaze turned sinister. 

As much as you had tried to spear yourself onto him, you’d left a few inches on the table. His first order of business was to remedy that, ramming you down to his base, stretching you far beyond what you had bargained for. Then, he began to slap you in steady, harsh, evenly-spaced beats. He chose a cheek at random, so you never knew what to expect except for more burning pain.

Each time he slapped you, you cried out, and eventually, the pain warped itself into rhythmic bliss. You could feel yourself clench around him. He wasn’t even thrusting into you, but it felt like he was since your body was squeezing him so damn hard. 

“You naughty girl,” he berated you, slurring his words, “Thinking you could rush me, trying to fuck yourself on me like a…” every word forward was punctuated by a slap of its own, each harder and more merciless than the last, “...filthy. fuckin’. slag!”

He gathered you up by your shoulders, somehow reaching into you deeper than before at your new, arched angle, and you moaned from his effort, feeling your pussy melt around him like hot wax. Price groaned too, low and slow, and you could feel his rod throb inside of you, aching to come. With your chest high, he raked up your shirt and played with your nipples messily and without aim, growling into your ear,

“Such a good little slut for me. Always so goddamn starved for my bloody fuckin’ rod, huh?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied obediently, making sure to put a high-pitched whine on it for his benefit, and for yours.

Price began to thrust into you now, no less cruelly than his hand had treated you, hard and deep, bullying your womb with his fleshy, swollen head. 

“Mmm. Every time you pulse around me, it makes me want to come in you. Makes me mad with it. I imagine how it feels while I watch you on base, sittin’ in your fuckin’ uniform, listenin’ to my bloody briefings, starin’ at me all hungry like. Arghh!” He slapped you again and sighed contentedly, “I get so. bloody. hard.”

“Ah! Captain, please…” He was too deep. It was as if you could feel him in your throat. If you swallowed, you thought the spit would soak his cockhead. 

“It’s my favorite fuckin’ thing,” he smacked you over and over, fucking you into the concrete floor, thrusting your body forward with his massive weight. Your nipples were raw, scraping the ground, and you tried to use your hands to catch yourself, but he was too strong. 

He shuddered, shouting with a gravelly resonance, still slamming himself into you, pushing through his orgasm, and you felt him spilling into you, warmer than usual. It felt like he had poured hot caramel into your walls and was stirring it up in you, frothing his cream to a bubbling, sticky mess. 

Then, he stilled. Laying on top of you, he panted harshly, trying to catch his breath. He began to kiss your neck and shoulders. Then, he gently removed himself and pulled your body into his lap, leaning against the photocopier behind him. You were draped across him, clutching his chest and neck with your hands, crying softly into his skin from your twisted joy. He used his fingers to play inside of you gently, feeling his messy come and spreading it all over your folds, massaging it into your ass cheeks, smearing it across both of your holes. 

“You okay, love?”

“Yes, sir,” you kissed his chest as it was the closest thing your mouth could reach.

“Gonna come back to my quarters tonight? We need to ice that arse. Not gonna be able to run your drills tomorrow.”

“Drills?” Your voice couldn’t hide your panic. 

He chuckled, kissing your forehead,

“I warned you, love. Don't test me.”

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

[lyssaluvs]

Just Play the Part

(Luke Castellan x Fem!Dionysus!Reader)

Summary: A makeover from Silena and the Aphrodite girls gives you the confidence boost you need.

A/N: this took me so bloody long it's borderline embarrassing. also luke is so out of character it almost makes me sick but whatever. god this is so short, i'm so sorry.

Warnings: Use of Y/n, reader is described to have curly hair but that's about it.

Children of Dionysus are rare, daughters even more so. As a matter of fact, you were the only one. To your knowledge… Before you came to Camp Half-Blood, you were an only child, and when you arrived, you suddenly had a much larger family that you did before. A father, brothers, it was fantastic, it felt amazing to have the family you had always dreamed of. However, with a somewhat absent mother, apparently no sisters, and not a whole lot of friends, let alone female ones, you had had little to no feminine influence in your life. This resulted in you becoming a bit of a tom-boy. It’s not that you didn’t want to embrace your femininity, you just didn’t know how.

“Oh goodness, those curls are a mess.”

“That outfit certainly isn’t doing her any favours.”

You heard the whispers as you walked past the small group of Aphrodite girls. As a child of Dionysus, you had quite a talent for theatrics, as well as being prone to sarcastic remarks, so you just couldn’t help but snap back.

“Can I help you?” You asked the group of girls, hands on your hips with your brows furrowed.

“Actually, we were wondering if we could help you…”

---

You now found yourself sat in a surprisingly comfortable barber-style chair in the bathroom of the Aphrodite cabin.

“Sorry I got defensive; I’m not really used to talking to girls much.” You apologise to Silena once again. 

“Stop apologising! We love having a new girl to give makeovers to. And who knows, maybe this will give you the confidence boost you need to finally talk to Luke, since he’s obviously too shy to talk to you first.”

You cast your gaze downward as a warmth spread across your cheeks.

“Don’t worry, you’re not that obvious. I just have a knack for these kinds of things, comes with being an Aphrodite kid. Luke, however, is about as subtle a sledgehammer. Please don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.” She paused combing your hair to look you in the eye.

You just shrugged.

“The lingering touches when he corrects your stances, yearning stares…” She awaited your reaction and when she was met with a befuddled expression, she continued.

“Oh my god, you’re oblivious. Here’s what you’re going to do. Once we’re done here, you’re going to walk right up to him, and ask him out. There’s no way he’ll say no, so don’t try that excuse. And I’ve seen you on stage, you can certainly play an outgoing character, so if you’re going to use the shy excuse, I’ll tell you to just pretend you’re on stage.”

---

It had been almost two hours and your makeover was finally over. Your curls were healthier than ever, your nails were painted, light makeup had been applied, and you had never felt more beautiful. You looked at your outfit in the mirror, taking note of the way the new flare jeans were much more flattering than your previous daggy cargos, and your camp tee now a size smaller and no longer drowning you.

“You’re lucky orange suits you, now go get your man!” Silena pushed you out the door, giving your butt a playful smack on the way out.

---

Feeling more confident than ever you approached Luke while he was practicing his swordsmanship in front of the setting sun, alone, as he usually was at this time of day.

“Luke”

The brunette boy turned around so swiftly he almost lost his footing. He looked you up and down and swallowed heavily.

“Y/n, you look ama- “

“Do you want to go out with me?” The words shot out of your mouth before you could stop them. Regardless of Silena’s reassurance, if he did end up rejecting you, you wanted to get it over and done with as soon as possible.

His jaw dropped and he looked as though he wanted to say something, but his voice wouldn’t cooperate.  The two of you stood in silence for a few moments as you waited for an answer.

“It’s fine if you don’t. I’ll just go.” You began to turn around.

“YES! Sorry, yes, I want to go out with you. Please. I really want to go out with you.”

It seemed his voice had finally caught up with his mind.

Hmm… He’s cute when he rambles…

@elz-zalarrr this one's for you!

credit to @cafekitsune for the divider!

[noxturnalmoth]

What Could Have Been

Summary: Silco, the Eye of Zaun, the Industrialist, was first and foremost a son of Zaun who wanted his motherland free. After an altercation in which his adopted daughter shot him in a fit of rage, he is left dying while the world goes on without him. His life's work and ideals soon trampled to nothing as his memory fades from the world. But what if he was saved?

Warnings:

Word Count: 6,397

Masterlist: here

Chapter 2 - Alone

"You have five seconds to explain what happened before I snap your neck."

Was gruffly said in your ear, ragged breath fanning the side of your neck and hair as the wet rag around your throat was pulled tighter. Although you knew very well he could and would kill you if given the opportunity, you refused to give in to your base instinct of attack, fight engraved in each cell in your body instead of flight.

"Can't do much if I can't talk." Was wheezed out as you managed to elbow him in the ribs. The attack could lead to either Slico dropping the rag to cradle his fresh wounds or him dragging you down while the rag choked you further, you were relieved that it was the former. Taking a gulp of fresh air, you turn quickly on the bed and ignoring your ankle's painful straining, straddled the man's waist, your legs hooked around his thighs while you pinned his hands above his hands. His teal eye was narrowed viciously, the teal a biting cold that clawed at you as his disfigured eye burnt you down, charring you to nothing by a simple rageful look. The black of its sclera seeming darker while the orange of the iris was shining bright like an inferno, a a much more different look than the calm yet restless dullness of it when Silco was unconscious. "And if you can't stop trying to kill me I'll have to leave us in this very uncomfortable position for the forseeable future. You're gravely wounded, barely stabilized, and if you try anything not only would it be easy to subdue you but if you managed to escape you'd be dead meat, no matter how strong you are. So can you please not?"

Nightmare fresh on your mind, still appearing behind each blink, exhaustion having sucked up all you had even after a small rest and pain making your voice clipped. His good eye widened slightly in surprise, probably not used to being talked to in such a way or physically handled for quite some time. His lips were pulled back in a sneer but when he tried to escape your grip and blood seeped from his wounds, pain shot through his and cut the action short by making him go limp and groan.

"Fine."

Is huffed from beneath you before you peel yourself away and softly appologizing for your action under your breath, action that also seems to astonish the man as if he had never expected his "captor" to show any ounce of humanity. And you had to rectify that horrible misunderstanding, if not for your pride, for his clarity of mind and relief.

You start the introduction by saying your name as you unwrapped his bandages.

"I found you in a building pretty well hidden between the fringes and the entresol level. I had been there for personal matter regarding a Chem Baron meeting." Silco takes a sharp breath, as sharp as the daggers he had hidden on his person when you first brought him home, aswell as the glare he was currently shooting you while you were cleaning and checking his wounds. "I know, it sounds suspicious, and it was. Those are worse sump rats than I am, because they don't even harbor any loyalty or cause but their own, not even to our people, to Zaun as a whole. I heard from the grape vine that you'd already have an attempt on your life done by Finn, so when I learned he was organizing a little clandestine takeover I had to know what it was about. Plus there's always good extra information to get, they're not careful enough with how they speak and act, it reveals all their cards to the one who actually has a mind and uses it properly."

He scoffs, tensing as your hands touch his skin but biting back any comment or insult he may have for you, knowing better than to bite the hand that heals.

"I was about to hide in the building you were detained in until the meeting started, and heard a whole lot of ruckus. Turns out a family reunion was happening, and i may have not seen anything but I heard enough to know someone got hurt. Even after I saw it was you I couldn't stop myself from running home, I had witnessed manslaughter and I was not about to let a fellow Zaunite die if I could help it. So what if it was you? I would have done it if it was anyone else of our people, even if it was a Piltie. But like hell I, as a trencher, was gonna let one of my own die if I had a say in it."

Your voice resounded in the curtain walled room, the rounded window letting the fluorescent lights filter through the mezzanine, as your hands applied ointment softly to the puckering scars. None had to be restitched but the movements he had performed earlier would make them more sore than they would have been had he not done that. Yet you understood, the man who had all the cards and control in Zaun dying, then finding himself in bed with a stranger was bound to activate fight or flight. And just like you, rebellion was carved deep within his soul.

"What do you want?" His voice had asked so roughly, like angry, rolling thunder hidden behind a curtain of dark, inky clouds.

"Nothing. I want nothing but your health and safety at the moment." Is what you humed back, your hands grazing him gently as you wrapped his chest and stomach. A hiss was heard, and as you looked at Silco you found him analyzing you, mouth downturned as if your mere existence displeased him, and it may have but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You were doing what you thought was right, you were helping one of your own and that's all that mattered.

"I'll ask again." He all but growls out. "What do you want?" Is clipped from behind clenched teeth, his hands going for youe throat. "I don't believe in good samaritans."

"You shouldn't. Everybody has something they want." My hand catches his wrists and his snarl grows deeper, carving his face with a grave expression. "My condition is you taking it easy to not make it any harder on either of us, and to just let me do this. Because I don't know if you've noticed but you've come back from near death Silco. Gone are the Eye of Zaun and the Industrialist, it's been a week and the world goes on without you. You've been old news since you got shot."

His breath hitches and his weak grasp on your throat tightens, eyes looking between each of yours, trying to find something, anything. Turns out, even if you're Silco, near death by the hands of a loved one is enough to make all your walls tumble down like a house of cards. So you bring my other hand up, enclosing both his wrists between your palms.

"I've admired you since I was a kid, Silco." You begin, speaking softly, your eyes looking onto his. "Somewhere along the way you lost yourself and you lost sight of what mattered the most, Zaun. You were obsessed with the idea of it and did all that you did for it, but in the end all you've done was for the semblance of a dream of youth. All you did was for revenge against Piltover, you were fuelled by hatred and now your dream and your empire both have toppled because you've grown overzealous."

"In the pursuit of great, you failed to do good, Silco." His hands clench again, your breathing slightly altered yet not enough to make you take action, his eyes looking at you, drowning and flaying you with their dual violence. "I wanted to save you not for the man you are and what he possesses, but for the man you once were that raised hell to Piltover's enforcers, the man that was a founding member of the Children of Zaun, the idealist who wished for all of his people to finally be free and happy, the child who fought tooth and nail in those mines to survive, the co-founder of the Lanes who helped us generate some of our own profit without Piltover, the man on whom the bridge attack's responsibility fell who then disappeared and came back a monster."

You grab his wrists tighter as he brings his face closer to yours, breath still smelling like tobacco even days after.

"I am not that man anymore, he has died."

"And so have you." You push his wrists away, getting out of the bed and pulling the chair back up from its position on the ground, sitting on it to rewrap your ankle. "So who will you be now Silco?"

Is the last thing uttered from your lips as you take the basin downstairs with your tray on top of it, emptying the cold water and preparing food for two for the first time since you crawled up from the deepest, darkest and most lawless parts of the sump you grew up in. Figments of memories still clinging to you as you hum to occupy the silence, to occupy your busy, loud mind, your gramophone too far for you to want to drag your exhausted body to it. Later, with the tray and basin filled with food and water respectively, you climb back up the stairs, careful not to hurt yourself more.

And opening the curtains you're surprised to see the man still awake, yet a part of you isn't, it feels like the coma he was in for the week was the most sleep he's gotten in years, and that saddened you as you knew exactly how it felt. He was sitting up on your bed, back on the wall, legs stretched as his eyes looked in front of him absentmindedly, lost in thoughts you could only guess were dreary.

"I have to work today, I've been gone for six days and people need me." You say as you set the tray on the bed, his eyes snapping to you as if he only just noticed you were there. "I'll be back later on, please don't try anything. If not for my sake, for your own. If there are still things you wish to accomplish in this life, rest." And those were the last words uttered between you that day as you left right after eating your breakfast.

Down in Zaun in this time of year the weather was bitingly cold, the metal storing the cool from the wind, rain and snow and distributing it to the whole of the Undercity, the bite getting worse the lower you got. But that was no matter for you, the forge was always warm, the hearth burning brightly and illuminating the shop in a soft orange glow as you fixed appliances and made tools, day in and day out helping your community. It felt good, cathartic even, to hit something in order to help someone instead of hurting them, and it felt good when people needed you because you were good at fixing and creating, not destroying. And everyday that Janna let you breathe, you'd thank yourself for working so hard towards achieving something worth being proud of with no one's help but your own and your community's. People who had taken you in their arms and offered a new chance at life seven years ago and for whom you worked incessantly for to balance out the ledger, to repay your debt. And as you arrived at your shop, started the flame and opened up, you saw people pouring in, faces old and new, but all of them you could help and you would, for in Zaun everyone knows the one rule: "we never give our own people away".

But everyone forgets its second part: "we always help our brothers and sisters if we can".

You didn't, and it was the one motto you lived by, day by day, muscles flexing and clenching, sweating at the flame's heat as you fixed, as you created, and today wasn't an exception, and neither was the next week. Silco seldom talked to you, his stomach healing slowly but surely as he begrudgingly followed your advice of staying in bed while you wondered what he was thinking about that had his eyes glaze over, staring into the nothingness and his ears deaf until you metaphorically shook him awake. You took on no new mission of your own, your mind not up to sabotaging the Piltie pigs or the Sump leeches while the man you now shared your life with was still healing, although while his stomach was getting along quite well, the rest of his body seemed to degenerate. You had told about him to your landlord, telling him and his family how you've come to have an unwilling roommate and revealing who he was, knowing that you didn't have to plead for them to keep their mouths shut and you couldn't be more glad to be a Zaunite.

News in Zaun could travel as fast as lightning or as slow as the rolling of the clouds bringing it forth. It had taken two weeks for you to hear from a client that Piltover's council building had been attacked the night you saved Silco, and that three councilor had died, Councilor Hoskel, Councilor Kiramman and Councilor Bolbok, aswell as Viktor, a fellow Zaunite and one of the brilliant minds behind hextech which revolutionized technology on topside. Your heart grew heavy as you were revealed the Perpetrator: Jinx, Silco's daughter and the one who nearly killed the man she called her father. The rest of your day was spent pondering how you could break the news to the man, his daughter had probably been so guilt stricken she destroyed the world and herself alongside it, yet you couldn't lie to him, even less if it's about the only person he loves. So that night, you pass by a food stall, getting food that you bring upstairs with you to Silco, stubble had filled his face, the marred side patchy and irregular. His eyes were tired and glossy, and when you sat down on your chair next to your bed and placed the warm bag on the bed, they dragged lazily to you instead of snapping as usual. His shivering curled up form on the bed, his jaw locked tight as if in immeasurable pain, he wrapped himself deeper in your blanket, trying to maintain a cold façade even after everything.

He was ashamed and you knew it, ashamed of his near death at the hands of his daughter, ashamed at his weakness in this whole ordeal, control slipping between his fingers like sand. But it looked like something else was at play, he was flushed, sweaty and sensitive to sound, touch and light since the day he woke up, the condition getting worse as time passed, and you knew you would never be able to get information as to why if you didn't drive a good bargain, so sighing you straighten up.

"I have knews of your daughter." Was what had him sit up, doubling over in pain yet it wasn't his stomach that he held but his eye. "But I will only tell you if you tell me what's going on."

"So you've finally decided to execute your power over me?" His voice wavered as he tried to force it to unleash venom, spittering and acidic against your skin as he got close to your face, his tired eyes looking particularly frenzied, the braziers of hell flickering dangerously in a way that had you narrowing your eyes in confusion.

"No, but there is something you're not telling me that's ailing you and I can't help if you don't let me."

"Why would I?"

"Because you want to know about Jinx." Cut through the fast paced hissing tone he had set for the conversation. "Don't you?" You tilt your head, secretly hoping that in his exhaustion he'll bite, because as much as you wanted him healthy you also knew of how comandeering and stubborn he was. And if his rough sigh, partly sounding like a growl, was anything to go by? You had won your bet against yourself.

"My eye. It's a source of constant pain, migraines, blurry vision at times, others it's depth perception being messed with. Those I can deal with usually, but this.." He stops, taking a deep breath, hand covering his bad eye. "I get episodes. My skin is rotting, so are my nerves, slowly but surely. I usually have a medication for it, but I have not the injector nor the serum."

There it was, and as you observed just how bad his condition was now, you knew he had been hiding his pain better than anyone else could have in his situation. Skin looking so much paler and its flush so much redder, the sweat gleaming all over his flesh, the marring across his left cheek running deeper, the gray flesh looking darker and like it was conquering more of the sickly territory of his face. That's when you realized that the flickering of his eye was a very persistant and visible pulsing of the organ. His flesh had been rotting before your eyes and you have no idea on how to help.

"What serum?" Your voice rushes, eyes looking at him as your hands measured the temperature of his forehead, burning.

"Shimmer." His voice croaked, no longer the energy for an angry growl. You take a sharp breath

"And the injector?"

"Made to deliver the shimmer directly in my pupil, it had a circular tubing around it to help place it around the eye." He pants a bit, closing his good eye to try to focus on anything but the pain. "I normally need one injection per day" And at that you were back up, telling him to eat without you.

"You still havent told me about-" He starts, scrambling on the bed to reach you, his voice breaking, tears clinging to his lower lashes, yet you cut him off.

"I'm not letting you know news about your daughter while you're agonizing, I'm not a monster. But just know that for now, she's a fugitive."

Closing the door behind you, you rush as much as your twisted ankle can permit you, stinging pain eating at every single one of your steps while youcut through town, goin to see an old connection of yours. Samira was a pharmacian, one of the rare ones down here in the Undercity, her pharmacy more akin to an apothecary shop yet her products were proven to help and provided whatever relief you seeked. If anyone had to have proper uncut shimmer, it was her. And you were right, as you explained your conundrum to Samira she nodded and handed you a dozen of vials. "Free of charge" as the eye of Zaun had died, she had said huffing out a laugh at the Irony, but as you shoved them in your coat pockets hurriedly she asked if you were alright.

"I'm managing." Was all you answered before high tailing it for your shop, leaving her in the dust.

The hearth was burning bright as you lit it, pondering how to go about making his injector. You couldn't make one from scratch, it would take too long and you shivered as you thought back of the fact he had hidden the fact his flesh was rotting away. He had been in horrible pain, adding up day after day, effects piling up as he curled up on his own. And you felt for this man, although it was misplaced pride he was still clinging to the last thing allowing him control: himself. And there, in your bed, weak and helpless albeit still fighting for the last shred of his integrity, you had recognized the man you admired as a child, the look in his eyes as you mentionned his daughter had been fiery. Even if he was in pain he was still doing all he could, although he couldn't move, he was still holding on. And as you picked spare parts in the back of the shop and set them on the anvil, you decided that as long as he was with you, you'd provide him with all the help he needed. Even if he never came back to the young revolutionary he once was, even if he remained the stubborn mean bastard he was now, even if he left, what you saw today was a lonely man. His eyes, his voice, you knew that look more than anyone. It's the one you had, surrounded by people yet never truly feeling like you fit in no matter what you did.

So as you heated up the metal parts and assembled them together you allowed yourself to think back to that loneliness. The one that makes everything feels transactional, like you can only be loved if you provide, the crippling pain of seeing others have friends and family while companionship of any kind terrifies you to the core, like it was a starved beast ready to gnaw you alive, from your skin to your flesh and even your bones. It's that loneliness that mixes with the sleepless nights, haunted by visions of horror as if you were in a fancy Piltovan cinema, locked in a theater of your own demons while the film rolled indefinitely. The one that leaves your throat and skin raw as you scream and claw at your skin, hoping to wash and expell away any ounce of pain you feel, but it's never enough, so you never scream again and encase your heart in molted iron, letting it cool into a spiked shell. The look Silco had in his eyes, the tone in his voice, you felt for him because you were the same, and you knew he'd reject you, but you were willing to try to help him. It was selfish, you knew as much, but you had been someone good for others for almost a decade, shaping yourself into someone accepted and beloved yet nothing could bring you close enough to your people no matter how much you loved them and how much they loved you. Because there was always a part of yourself you hid, an ugly past that you didn't wish to unhearth in fear of your house of cards crumbling down. Yet the need for emotional closeness intrinsic to human beings ate at you day after day. And maybe it was foolish to think that by helping Silco you could help yourself too, and it disgusted you to think that you had maybe expected something from him after all even if unknowingly, but you were willing to try, even if he was the only one benefitting from it at the end.

A couple of hours had passed by the time you finished the injector, rushing back home ignoring your own pain again in favor for helping the man in your appartment, as you have done for the past two weeks. Door slamming open and shut as you hurried your limping form upstairs, Silco crumpled on the bed, curled up on himself. And when you touch his shoulder he reels back, as if your touch had branded him. His eyes were angry, confused and pained, cheeks painted with bitter sweat and salty tears as blood dripped from his bitten lips, his arms and ribs marked with half moons. He had been hurting himself, to forget the pain you wager, of his condition and of how in the span of so little time all he has worked towards for crumbled to dust. And as one of your hands goes to your coat pocket to retrieve the injector and one tube of shimmer.

"I did all I could, do you want me to let you do it on your own?" You say softly, hand caressing his before raking some of his sweaty, messy bangs back to the crown of his head and away from his eyes. As my hand leaves his burning face he grabs it and sits up.

"What happened to Jinx?"

"Silc-"

"What happened to her?!" A gasp escapes him at his own raised voice as he falls back on the pillow, writhing in pain yet tensing to not let it appear quite as much, the concern and anger in his tone and mannerisms still very present.

"She..Shot the Council, three councilors dead, a Zaunite civilian aswell, the co-creator of Hextech I believe, she's now considered an enemy of Piltover and will be hunted down. It happened the day you nearly died." I sigh, my hand turning in his, entertwining our fingers and squeezing, hoping to bring any measure of comfort. "Silco you're torturing yourself, take the shi-"

"I need to go back to Jinx, she needs me." His voice cracked, his waning strength pushing you away as he stood up, knees buckling under him before you caught him in your arms, his extra weight making you taste the violent crack in your ankle.

"Haven't you done enough Silco?" You ask gently as you set him back down. "That girl is already haunted enough as it is, don't you think it's better to not appear to her again, that it's time to let her go? You'd be another ghost to her, and in the state you're in now you'd die in front of her again by the time you got to her."

"You don't know what's best for-"

"I may not know what's the best for your daughter but you do, and you know as well as I do that coming back will only hurt her further. You have nothing anymore Silco, how can you expect to be someone she falls back to? How can you expect to be a good father if you're not even the man she knew?" His anger is evident on his face, and you're understanding of why, it wasn't the lack of refusals towards him in the past few years that provoked his rage, no it was that he realized how the little control he believed he still held had been gone, and that the words you uttered were nothing but the unfortunate truth.

"I don't mean to hurt you, all I want is for you to be back up and running, and happy if that's even possible, but let me ask you that. Is your past life really worth you rushing back to? The senseless violence and drugs you dealt to your own people, an empire brought forth by our brothers and sisters you've subdued, greedy, stupid and distrustful collegues that wait for any occasion to stab you in the back no matter how loyal they may seem. We've all heard of Jinx, if we haven't dealt with her first hand, do you really believe a good father would have weaponized his daughter, Silco? Had you been a good father, would she have even been there and done what she's done? You've been the best father you could be, but blinded by your own trauma and ambition you've used the girl's affection to further your own agenda. Look at yourself, alone and destitute, and no one brought it upon you other than yourself, Silco."

"We've grown up in a world were there was never enough for everyone. I was trying to pull us out of the depths Piltover dragged us in but I don't expect you to understand, child." He all but spits.

You sigh, placing the injector and shimmer on your desk, sitting on the bed next to Silco who was shaking, rage and a maelstrom of other feelings emanating from him, swirling like a destructive tornado as his eyes ripped you apart.

"We've grown up in a world where there wasn't enough to go 'round for everyone, but have you made it any better? Or have you just capitalized on our pain, profitted on the fear and violence you brought forth? All you've done was make Zaun an enterprise and still saying it was for all of us, but you lost all of that years ago haven't you, you fought for all of us even when you've lost the plot. You're a lonely, terrified and pained man hiding behind a façade of control you've carefully built over the years, but that pain only grew hasn't it? So you tried to make yourself into the monster every Piltie sees in all of us so their attention is diverted to you, you shouldered all of the responsabilities in Zaun, you've raised a child, and you've still failed in all of those! Your façade terrifies even your own people, your empire toppled over and your child's crazy! You make everything worst by clinging to it, trust me, sometimes it's better to just let go. "

You breathe heavily, gulping as your hands gripped the bed, sheets crumpled in between your fingers. A thud resounds through the room and looking behind you, you see Silco sitting up with his back against the wall, his bi colored eyes looking to the copper tool and the glowing purple vial. The rage softening slowly, the chipped teeth showing from his angry snarl now hidden behind the curtain of his lips. He breathes heavy and shivers, pain mixing with emotions he seems too overwhelmed to even try to understand. But then his good eye opened a bit more, no longer hiding the tumultuous ocean within his teal iris as it looks from you to the table on which are placed the objects he needed. A silent invitation, you decypher. And so you nod, your lungs heaving as you bring the shimmer and injector to the poor man beside you. Your eyes meeting his again, all the energy and the fight had left him, there sat Silco in what you surmised was his purest form, tears flowing down his cheeks, eyes so pained you felt like you were about to double over. His jaw was clenched and his lips pulled in a sneer, the usual rage nowhere to be seen, it was something more visceral this time. And as you went to give him the material he shook his head, his arms crossing across his chest, nails digging to the sides of his arms.

So you approached slowly to not agitate him any further, he looked troubled enough as is. You looked at him every step of the preparation, putting the vial in the contraption, unlocking the needle cap, and placing the cylindrical apparatus to his eye to stabilize your hand, giving him a chance to back down everytime. But he never did, and once you injected the product, his form crumpling in pain, you realize just how vulnerable he had allowed himself to be. Your thumb wiping away a purple tear, the same purple tainting the burning orange of his ruined eye, before he slaps it away and turns his back to you, laying down. His body was no longer shivering and from what you had seen neither was the unblinking black and orange gem adorning the left side of his face. Understanding he needed space after that, you left the vials and injector and went downstairs, showering before you crumpled in the couch you've been sleeping in for the past two weeks, curling up on yourself.

The days are long after that, no more words uttered between you two, a tense and overwhelming silence taking over your appartment, he still only ate whenever you were away and you grew more restless but you understood. He needed time, to digest the hard truths, to take a good look at himself and wonder what he was doing to himself, what he had done to himself, and what he would do with himself later on. You knew that confusion better than anyone, and as you remember the feel of your bruised and ruined hands, the sounds of screams and cheering, the stench of corpses, booze and sweat, the taste of blood and tears. You've become someone good, helpful and, you hoped, worth knowing. But in whichever future you imagined it was always lonely, no one waiting for you at home, no friends close enough to you to know everything, a void still ripping your chest apart. He had lost himself for some reason, but you could only imagine the crippling loneliness he felt was why he clung to his dream so hard even after diverging from it, why he clung to the comandeering façade he had created, why he clung to his daughter like a lifeline. Because they were the only thing that reminded him he was alive and human at all. Just like helping people no matter the cost has been what kept you going.

One day after work, your body heavy and dragging as you moved, you brought up his dinner as always, expecting him to barely look at you, chilling eyes sizing you up as you left. But when you began to retire his hand caught your wrist, dragging you to the bed, tray discarded on your desk.

"Would letting her go truly be the only good thing I can do?"

His voice, rough from unuse, breaks the silence. Its low rumbling leaving a crackle of electricity behind it.

"I believe so." Is the simple answer you give.

"I would have nothing left."

You shake your head, freeing your wrist and laying your hand upon it on the bedsheets. "You'd still be alive, there's a chance for you to build something. You've forgotten yourself Silco, you've locked who you truly are away for too long. I think it's time for you to redescover yourself."

"Do you know who you are?" And at that you chuckle and shake your head again a soft "no" escaping your lips, your eyes gently raking over his form which was much healthier now that he had his medicine. "Then how do you-"

You interrupt his angry inquiry. "Because I know what I'm not. Do you?" And he freezes, his scowl softening as do his eyebrows, his eyes looking past you and through you to see something you cannot.

"The Eye of Zaun, the Industrialist, they're gone." He breathes out roughly, one hand dragging through ink black and soft silver, and when arrived at the back of his head the hand tugs as if to bring his focus back. You nod, they had died a month ago, both of them, and as his eyes looked down to your linked hands you feel like that realization finally weighs in on him.

"You asked me when you woke up what I wanted from you. I've said that I only wanted you healthy, but I suppose I can't in good conscience continue to lie." He freezes and his eyes snap back to yours, hand gripping yours in a vice, not in anger, in something deeper, more all consuming. And you know that from the way the air shifts and his face twitches, like a child terrified of getting struck. "I did want your health to return to you, but I suppose I also didn't want to be alone anymore. People suffer in Zaun, that much is a fact for all of us, but I have seen things and done things, I've lived through events that molded me against my will. Events that most would not understand no matter how much they care. So I remain surrounded but alone, never truly myself with anyone. I guess, knowing parts of what happened to you, deep down...I hoped we could be friends. So I decided to be good to you no matter how bad you could be to me, as I always do, and even if you end up leaving I'll be glad if you at least felt cared for. Because I believe that no matter how well you hide it, you feel alone too."

Eyes lock and his hand relaxes, his eyebrows twitch and his eyes flutter around your face, digging for any hidden viciousness, for any burried intentions, but he finds none. You can see it in the drop of his tense shoulders, in the slow breath coming out of you.

"And you think I'd understand?" He drawls softly.

"I know you would, whether you want to or not. But you have a choice to stay or leave, I will never keep you against your will. As soon as you're good to go, feel free to do whatever you want."

"I'm not a good man."

"People can change, the question is whether they're willing to or not."

Silence ticks by, food untouched as you shift on the bed thinking the conversation is over, yet Silco's hand drags you back down.

"And you're willing to try?"

"Of course."

"It would be rotten work." The words spill from his lips before he can even think of a less emotive answer and your head shakes yet again. You set yourself next to him on the bed, enjoying the plushness of the mattress for the first time in weeks.

"Never to me. It's my job to fix things after all, no matter how battered, broken and unusable, no matter if the process is long, complex, or if I get hurt in the end."

Your hand quits his as it and its twin burrow in your pockets, procuring a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You place two rolls of paper and tobacco between your lips, lighting them with a flick of the thumb, opening the silver rectangle which provided a large flickering flame. You take one cigarette between two fingers and show it to Silco, asking for a truce of sorts. His hand hesitates, yet shivering fingers find your question and accept its terms, the filter that had previously surrounded by your lips now enclosed between his.

"I don't think I ever had a friend." Your voice softly says, expelling smoke as you broke the comfortable silence, eyes looking up at the ceiling. You see him nod from your peripherals, his head leaning back to do the same as you.

Everyone needs to be drunk on something to stay alive.

And albeit differently, for the both of you it was affection.

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Tailgating

Uptight Benji tries to force his way though rowdy tailgaters to get to work. How was he supposed to know the stupid game was such a big deal? Seems he’ll be learning in short order after having a beer or two to take the edge off.

Spin on one of my favorite older stories on here, also named Tailgating! Slightly shorter fratification, burps and personality changing sunglasses ahead! Also only a few days left to vote for the Talismen finale, there's a clear favorite but anything can happen! Enjoy this little ode to sweaty bodies and hoppy breath! -Occam

The roads around the campus library are closed for the big game, but Benjamin was still determined to host his Office hours. He knew there was some kind of football thing today but had no idea it was apparently the biggest of the year. Some bowl game or massive rivalry or something, He didn’t care- doesn’t and will never care, in fact . He’s done good work avoiding the jeering crowds of drunkards so far as he sneaks across campus. Nearing the home stretch however it’s clear there is no way around. He must somehow power through the horde.

Benji makes it a few good yards into the festivities unassailed, dodging elbows and spilled drinks like the best of them. Unfortunately the prudish academic takes time to grimace and sneer when one of the behemoths burps loud enough to make him flinch, pausing just long enough to become irrevocably caught in the chaos. 

Like an animal held by the scruff of its neck, Benjamin finds himself in the clutches of Bruiser, president of the school’s new Beta Delta Alpha chapter. “Yooo lil bro! What’s up? Looks like you’re not havin’ a good time?” Stuck in a meaty hand and between instincts of snide remarks and swift flight he opts for smarmy sarcasm, “Nono you bovine brute I’m having the time of my life on this commute.” Bruiser narrows his eyes, “hmmmm I dunno dude.”

Feeling the man’s sweaty, surely beer-covered palm soaking through his shirt he swats at it, “Ugh, the idea of work foreign to you hedonistic morons?” Bruiser’s lip twitches into a smile as he reaches to grab something with his free hand, “ohhh you’ve got work lil bro?” The hairs on the back of Benji’s neck stand on end as he feels something shift in the man’s expression and he tries to bolt away, Too Late.

Bruiser forces a massive mirrored visor onto Benji’s eyes and the prude freezes. His vision is shaded a dark burnt orange and his eyes scramble, the only remaining part he seems able to move himself. Bruiser releases his shoulder and pats his back, “Welcome to the party bro hahah!” Benji cannot see the man’s own eyes glimmering through his new visor, though as he leans in close all his senses are overwhelmed by how powerful the scent of beer is on his breath, “Here lil bro, let me help you chill out.” Despite disgust, despite fear, despite everything in him begging him to flee, the scent of beer on Bruiser’s thick breath fills him with an overwhelming thirst.

Benjamin doesn’t know how a tall boy ends up in his hand, but he can guess what is soon to happen when Bruiser turns to shout, “Yo bros! Lil Benj over here is gonna kill a tall boy in one gulp!” Through his tinted visor he sees the can raise to his lips, no one can see his eyes widen from fear as beer begins to pour into his mouth. Try as he might to slow the flow, to close his mouth, to not swallow he is totally unable to move. And then, his eyes lose focus for half as second, why would he want to stop drinking it?Did he like beer? As it continues to flow into his mouth he can’t imagine not liking it? ‘S pretty good. Despite his body willing itself through the can, in its paltry state he could never manage to drink this quickly. Rivulets of the swill spill out of his cheeks and down his jaw, staining the recently shaved upper lip and cheeks darker, a mustache never given the chance to thrive begins to sprout. Benji’s throat burns from the effort of racing to down the drink, through with each gasping swallow it becomes easier, more adept at performative drinking competitions, tight to the can his mouth widens into something cruder, made to be loud. And then he’s done

Tossing the can to the ground without a care Benjamin stands, swaying back slightly despite having only had the one drink. His hand pats his stomach and it jiggles slightly, the tall boy must be expanding in his stomach or something. He grimaces as it grumbles, his neck reflexively tenses as he feels a burp coming up. He can’t, no surely not- the glasses squeeze tighter on his head and he laughs once, wouldn’t it be funny though?

Bruiser watches with as smile as he sees the meek man’s torso begin to fill out as he fights the urge to burp. Beneath the visor his eyes surely go glassy as his midriff is exposed and soon enough covered by a treasure trail climbing up towards his chest. Buttons begin to pop from the beer-stained collar of his shirt as something a little less defined than pecs begin to hang on his chest. Impatient with the nerd’s hesitation, Bruiser steps in and pats the man on the back. 

With the slightest encouragement from his bro, er- from this frat bro, Benji lets loose. *BRGURRRP* It lasts a few seconds, it’s not alone *BUURRP* Immediately Benji’s mind returns and he again tries to take control of piloting the machine that is his body. His arms feel heavier as they hang limp from his shoulders, his neck falls back as from another back pat and the shouting of Bruiser he burps again, *BURRP* shorter, deeper. He feels his arms straining his sleeves and a gut that shouldn’t be there pushing against the buttons of his shirt.

Stains begin to make themselves clear in his pits as he grows sweaty from the effort of, drinking? Growing? Struggling to keep his mind? His declining mind accelerates as the smell of his own musk begins to assail his nose. He’s unable to fight the urge to laugh as a hand unfamiliar, clumsy and thick scratches into his pits. He has the clear memory of putting deodorant on his almost hairless pits this morning before leaving the house for, uh- surely not to come here right? 

No no, he had something to do. It’s Saturday. Usually on Saturdays he has work? “YO BENJ!” Bruiser shouts into his ear, “YOU WANT ANOTHER DRINK?” Benji nods wordlessly as whatever shred of himself is left in his mind tries to remember. Yeah he had work, it’s why he’s wearing this button up- He looks down to see a stained shirt, skin clearly peaking through a litany of tears through. He grumbles as his head hurts, he scratches at his itchy chest as it begins to pattern with hair. Suddenly his nose twitches as he smells something. 

Grimacing at the stink he moves to smell his own pits and laughs once more, unaware he’s caught himself in some perverse feedback loop. Man though, he would’ve sworn he sprayed some axe before heading out? He scratches his chin with his pit-sweat covered fingers as he remembers sniffing them at the house and flinching before spraying the forests with at least a few coats. Yeah he’d never leave for, uhh- looking down he sees the shirt has now completely shredded off, leaving him topless as his beer gut continues to fill out and shift 

His once waifish treasure trail spreads to cover his thickening waist as he grows a beer belly that makes it clear this is not his first rodeo. Looking down at his meatier torso his mouth falls open as his struggling mind grinds slower, he’s not- this isn’t him. His body rocks as Bruiser returns and throws an arm around him, “Sorry it took so long BJ- You know how it be huhuh! Had to show a couple bitches who was boss!” 

Benj reflexively raises a fist to bump his bro, discarding a bottle he can’t remember downing to do so, nor does he realize that he seems to be in control of his body once more. Scratching at his crotch he goes to grab the drink Bruiser brought him and he remembers he can always ask his main bro what’s up, “Yo uhhhh, Bruise? Did I have somethin’ tah do today?” Bruiser smirks as he hears the man’s plodding, clearly thoughtless voice, “Fuckin’ yeah bro! You had to show those fuckers who’s boss!”

BJ stares mouth ajar for a few seconds as his existence recontextualizes itself. Sure he’s a student but C’s get degrees huhuh, Bruise’ll have a job for him at his dad’s firm when he graduates anyway. The new tank’s mouth grows into a wide smirk as he remembers that the only thing college is about is having a blast. “YEAH DUDE!” All eyes turn as the man’s new voice tears through the tailgate party, “LET’S SHOW THOSE BITCHES WHAT A REAL FOOTBALL TEAM LOOKS LIKE!” Foam sloshes out of his cup as he raises it in the air, before pouring it on himself and shouting some more.

His resounding cheers are echoed by the crowd of people around him, many almost spitting images of himself and Bruiser. Burly beer soaked men guffawing and toned men only concerned with vanity muscles, all drowning themselves in jungle juice until the game starts. Most frats on campus have sororities over for the shindigs but not the ΒΔΑ guys, no their quarry is all those fuckers who think they’re too good to have a good time. BJ smirks as any prior desires are completely paved over by the idea of molding some pansy little fucker into a real man, just like him, just like his pres.

Indeed he and Bruiser go about the crowd like predators, hungrily seeking out people who were harangued to come to the game. Offering wallflowers drinks and watching as their hair bleaches platinum, pecs bursting through newly bought faux jersey’s. Giving frat-thirsty twinks a chance to become their quarry sweat stained sunglasses and delighting as they fill crop tops to bursting, new furry bellies and hairy below the belt bulges making their intentions clear for all.

 In no time at all Bruiser has a platoon of brother’s behind him, all suddenly excited for the game and otherwise finding the newly stubbled mouths of their fellow brothers. The president’s eyes scan the rowdy crowd around him with glee, excited to sample his new brothers after the game, but none is he more excited to ravish than his new number two, BJ.

When kick off nears he bumps his new brother on the shoulder, the same he clutched when the fucker thought his prissy little job was important. “Yo bro, game’s about to start- Let’s head on in-” BJ’s glassy eyes wrinkle with a smile as he begins to stumble alongside his bro, excited to watch his team stomp. Excited to just watch another game. “LET’S FUCKIN’ GO BRO!” His drunken voice dull and louder than he could dream to near before meeting Bruiser

Even as Brusier clutches his ass his mind stays focused on the upcoming game, though his cock bulges in his shorts either way. His own hand clutches at his bro’s defined waist. God it’s been like a decade since the last rivalry game, and to watch it right by his Bruiser. Man, BJ wouldn't miss this for the world.