#but oh... it just makes everything sweeter

[nekonaps0]

The mood is gone pt1

✦part2 part3

✦gn!reader

✦ characters: Trey, Leona, Floyd, Jamil, Idia, Lilia

✦slightly smut

✦how the boys would react when things are just about to get heated with their beloved… and then bam! someone barges in, killing the mood.

Trey Clover

Everything was perfect. The kitchen was quiet, the air thick with sugar and tension, and Trey had you backed against the counter, voice low and teasing as his lips brushed your ear.

“You taste sweeter than anything I’ve ever baked…”

His hands slid around your waist, lips ghosting along your jawline when—


CRASH.

“YO TREY! Did you put those tarts in the oven—”

Ace burst through the door, freezing when he spotted the two of you tangled together like frosting on warm cake.

Trey jolted back with an awkward chuckle, eyes wide.

“Ace—!”

“Oh. Ohhh. My bad. Real bad. Continue. Or not. I’ll just—bye!” slams door

You sighed, untangling from Trey’s arms.

“Yeah… the mood’s gone, thanks Ace…”

you muttered and left, cheeks flushed in irritation.

Trey stood there, stunned for a second. Then, quietly:

“Ace is never eating anything I bake again.”

Later that night, he showed up at your dorm with a slice of your favorite pie and the softest apology kisses you’ve ever tasted.

Leona Kingscholar

The sun was setting over the sands of Savannaclaw’s yard, but inside Leona’s dorm room? The heat was from something entirely different.

You were pinned beneath him, his voice low and growly as he nipped at your throat, smirking when you shivered.

“Told ya I could make you purr, herbivore…”

But then—


BANG

“Oi, Leona! You left your stupid practice schedule out and now Vargas is—”


Ruggie’s voice froze mid-sentence.

Leona slowly lifted his head from your neck, and Ruggie turned a delightful shade of oh no.

“...My bad, boss.”

You wriggled free, cheeks hot and mood completely dead.

“Well, that’s ruined. The mood’s gone. Good bye Leona.”

You left with a sigh. Leona blinked once.

Then:

“Ruggie.”

“...Yeah?”

“You’re cleaning the training yard alone for a month...”

“Yeah… I know that’s coming… shit…”

Later that night, Leona tracked you down and wordlessly pulled you into his lap, whispering against your collarbone:

“Let me fix the mood. Right now.”

Floyd Leech

You were breathless, half-laughing and squirming beneath Floyd on his bed. His fingers grazed your thigh, teeth just barely nipping your earlobe as he growled:

“Shrimpy looks so biteable tonight…”

Your fingers tangled in his shirt. His knee nudged yours apart—

Knock knock. Door opens anyway.

“Floyd, Azul wanted to remind you to—”


Jade blinked. Stared. Blinked again.

“Ah. You’re... busy. My bad.”

Floyd turned his head slowly.

“Jade...”

“Just passing through.” click Door closes.

You groaned, shoving your face into Floyd’s chest.

“Mood’s gone,” you muttered. “Completely gone.”

You stood and left. Floyd looked betrayed.

“But shrimpy...! We were at the good part… nooo…!”

Later that night, he pouted on your bed, peppering you with annoyed kisses like a sad eel.

“Stupid Jade. Mood killer. I’ll get you back in the mood, Shrimpy... even if I gotta start from scratch~”

Jamil Viper

The music was slow, the lights low, and Jamil had you caged against his room wall, voice husky with restraint as his thumb traced your bottom lip.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me…?”

He kissed you, hot and firm. Your hands slid under his shirt—

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK—BANG.

“Jamil!! Are you in here?! I learned a new trick with the flying carpet and—OH!”

Kalim stood in the doorway, eyes wide with genuine innocence.

You gasped, pushing Jamil back.

“Kalim!” You both screamed.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! You two looked busy!” door slams shut

You straightened your clothes, flustered and groaning.

“thanks to Kalim…Mood’s gone. Se you later Jamil.”

You left. Jamil stood frozen for three seconds.

“...I’m going to hex that carpet.”

Later, he cornered you in the hallway, muttering

“Im sorry for what happened, I’ll triple-lock the door next time.”

Idia Shroud

You were in his room… yes, the room. The glowing screens, and Idia looking like he might combust from how hard he was trying to be smooth.

“Uhh... so... if you wanted to, like, maybe... take this to, um, level 18?”

Your lips were already on his. His hair flickered neon pink as his hands trembled on your waist—

DING DING!


Ortho's voice chirped from behind the closed door

“Big Brother! You said you’d test my new program pack today! Should I come in—?”

“NOOOOOOO—!!”

Idia dove off you so fast he might’ve phased into the digital plane.

You blinked.

“Yeah. That killed it. Mood’s gone. I think it would be better if I go now.”

And you walked out. He groaned into a pillow, hair now a dull blue.

“I’m gonna fake my own death. Then I’ll haunt the server room and live in eternal shame.”

Later, he shyly tapped on your door with snacks and a very nervous

“I promise… it’s never gonna happen again…”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia had you right where he wanted you—against his chest, your breath shallow, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Careful, my love. Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll have to bite…”

You squeaked. He smirked.

“So delicious when you tremble.”

His hands wandered lower when—


SLAM.

“LILIA-SAMA!? I HEARD STRANGE SOUNDS—!”

Sebek burst in, wild-eyed and shouting.

“Sebek!” you both yelled at once.

You scrambled away from Lilia, flushed and fuming.

“Mood’s gone. I’m done! Bye.”

You stormed out while Lilia slowly turned to Sebek, a twitch in his brow.

“...boy… we gonna have a really fun training tomorrow… I hope you’re ready.”

Later, Lilia showed up at your window, upside-down, charming as ever.

“Now... where were we, my dear~?”

..............................................................................................................................

[hahaifolded]

hello!!!!!

I don’t know if this is a stupid or unnecessary ask but how would Kyle and the team react to Soap and Reader’s break up? Would they notice a difference since Soap wouldn’t be so happy and loud anymore? Maybe he would just whine and complain the whole time, and it happened too much that one of them pushed him to confess what happened (I would believe that to be Kyle since we called him and not the captain or such). I might be going off topic and beginning to rant right here, I am so sorry!!!! 🫶🏽

Enjoy this rough, continuation of Cellophane (Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x POC!GN Reader

Warnings: MDNI, ANGST (racism), comparatively not as bad as the first part, Johnny still sucks however, mid-writing, abrupt ending Author's Note: You know what, I wasn't going to do a part two but I read this and boom... thoughts! Thank you for the ask, @shitaaba

Has the sun ever felt better on his skin? Gaz doesn’t think so.

What a perfect day! No early meetings or training. Sun is shining, the town isn’t too busy, and Kyle finally has time to hit that coffee shop you and Johnny showed him all those months ago. 

You and Johnny… what a beautiful couple. Well mostly you but Kyle will keep that to himself as he doesn’t need Johnny on his back for “fucking you with his eyes” again. His teammate sure is a lucky man, especially since Kyle isn’t a homewrecker, because if Gaz had his way, you’d be right next to h— 

“Ah!” Kyle quickly grabs at the poor soul that he smacked into. 

“Shit, so sorry. Are you ok… oh, it’s you!” he first apologizes then gleams. What a strange coincidence. Is this manifestation? 

You look up and immediately pull away from his grasp. Your eyes are wide as they wander for a quick getaway. “Don’t even worry about it. If you’ll excuse me,” you rush out as you side-step Kyle. 

Kyle blocks you and throws you a warm smile as an attempt to ease your embarrasment. “Woah, woah, why the rush? It’s been awhile. What, Johnny has you caged up?” Gaz laughs at his own joke. He thought that would for sure make you laugh. It doesn’t.

Your face falls, and for the first time ever, Kyle sees you shrink. Your energy completely dissipates as discomfort overtakes you. 

“Hey, everything okay?” Kyle softens his voice and reaches out, laying a gentle hand on your upper arm in an attempt to lift you up. You slowly step away from it which only worries Kyle more. “What happened? Did Johnny do something?” 

“John and I broke up.” 

-- -- --

“Up for drinks tonight boys? My treat,” announces Price at the end of the team meeting.

“Sure.”

“As long as you pay, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Can’t.”

“Again Johnny? This is the fifth time you’ve bailed on us,” Ghost remarks. 

Soap lets out a deep laugh. “You’re just bitter that I have something sweeter waiting for me at home.” Ghost rolls his eyes while Price laughs. 

“Wanker.” 

Soap, Ghost, and Price all turn towards Kyle. Did he just call Soap a wanker? Why?

“Just a wee joke. Meant no harm,” Soap yields. Gaz just rolls his eyes and continues packing his things. 

Instead of engaging with Gaz, Johnny decides to concede and continue packing. Clearly something is bothering his fellow sergeant but Soap knows it's better to wait until Kyle opens up. And if he’s honest to himself, he really doesn’t have the capacity right now for other people’s problems.  He has enough of his own. 

“Before I forget, ma has been nagging me to bring you guys over for dinner again. Worried that we’re starving or something. Think next week works for all of ya?” 

“Sure.”

“Should I bring anything?”

“Your mom okay with me coming?”

Ghost and Price do a double take as Kyle’s question catches them off guard. Kyle pays them no attention as he stares down Soap who’s smile drops. 

However, as fast as it dropped, it immediately reappeared. “What kind of question is that? Course she knows,” the Scotsman smiles. 

Kyle chuckles in disbelief. “Really? So she knows about me but not your bird?” 

“What?” Soap’s entire demeanor changes. His confident, go-lucky self crumbles, now replaced with shame and discomfort. “What are you on about?”

“Mate, you can’t be serious?” Kyle barks. He takes a step forward towards his counterpart but is stopped by a confused, but attentive captain. Price steps in and asks for an explanation. 

Kyle stares Soap down and bites, “you want to tell them or should I?”  All color drains from Soap's face

“That’s enough you two,” Ghost jumps in, unable to take this anymore. “Whatever problems Johnny is having with his bird is between him and—“

“They broke up two months ago!” Kyle finally exclaims. Ghost’s eyes widened. Price’s jaw drops. That made no sense as just last week, Johnny went on and on about the perfect getaway you two went on. Ghost and Price look to Johnny for answers, but with the way Johnny is standing, head down, shoulders slumped, their questions are answered. 

“Johnny, what happened?” Price tries to comfort the Scotsman. He saw how happy you made the sergeant happy. He even had a heart-to-heart with Johnny when he expressed his desire to marry you. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’ll tell you why.” And with that, Kyle goes off. He tells the team how Johnny, despite claiming to love you more than life itself, refused to fight for you. ”I bet you’re just like your parents,” spits Kyle. 

“You don’t get it,” counters Johnny. His face twists in despair. 

“What’s not to get? Your parents are fucking racist and you refuse to do anything about it.” Kyle couldn’t believe it. Johnny is his friend, his comrade, his brother in arms; despite everything they’ve gone through, Kyle thought he could trust the Scotsman. And worst of all, he wasn’t the one who got hurt, it was you, sweet, beautiful you got hurt. “You’re pathetic. You never fucking deserved them!” 

“That’s enough,” Price puts his foot down. His face stern. He gestures to Soap and sends him to his office. Soap drops his head and nods in defeat. As Johnny walks away, Price lets out a deep breath and asks Ghost to watch Kyle before heading off himself.

The lieutenant and sergeant stand in silence as Kyle is way too angry to speak and Ghost is just uncomfortable by the entire situation. Did Johnny really lose you because of his parents? Ghost couldn’t believe it. He’s seen firsthand how Johnny furiously defended you during late nights out at the bar when other soldiers got a little too crude with the way they spoke about you. Ghost personally has had to rip the sergeant off one too many times from rude allies. What made Ghost even more uncomfortable was the amount of time he’s spent with Johnny’s family and never once got the feeling that his parents were racist. They’ve always been kind to the Lietenant. He assumed it was because of his rank or even his own past, never for… 

“Kyle?” Kyle cocks his head towards Ghost, eyes still buring with rage. “Has his parents ever…”

“No,” Kyle admits. He exhales deeply, his shoulders easing a bit. “I mean, there's been some weird comments here and there but I just assumed it was cause they’re old, never…” Kyle trails off, clearly affected by everything. 

Ghost just nods. He stays quiet for a bit until another question pops in his head. “Are they okay?” 

Kyle shrugs his shoulders. “They’re alright. Still hurt but they’ll survive” 

Ghost hums. He has a million other questions but decides to stay quiet. As much as he wants to know how Kyle found out or what (but really who) you’re doing these days, Ghost sees that Kyle is just exhausted. So with that, the two men finish packing in silence. With their bags in hand, they both leave the conference room, walking side by side in the hallway. 

Kyle pulls out his phone and lets out a small chuckle. Ghost can’t help but give Gaz a weird look. What’s so funny? 

“You know something, L.T., I don’t even feel bad anymore.” Ghost tilts his head as Kyle shows him something on his phone.

You: Saturday works for me! 

Word Count: 1246

Thanks for reading! - Fold's Page Guide + Masterlist

[hazard-haze]

Eddie and Volt headcanons (no player)

Soooooo

My brain has decided this shit is my new hyperifxation

And that these are my new comfort characters

But I heard that everyone was getting a hate ending with them and guess who got friendship with them first tryyyyyy! So uh, skill issue/j heres some headcanons for ya'll :)

-He doesn't do it often because he knows Eddie hates it, but Volt can 110% pick up Eddie and will abuse this power if he needs to

-Eddie is Volt's anger translator. It usually goes something like this:

Volt: "We are sorry you weren't satisfied with our service, but this is the best we can do and I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

Eddie *passing by behind him*: "Pay your fucking tab and get out!"

-Volt cannot keep his hands still, he tries to play it off suave-ly (?) by just tapping his fingers and running his hand through his hair repeatedly but when he gets really excited or angry about something he will wave his hands with big, fast, eccentric gestures.

-Volt wears eyeliner, sometimes Eddie helps him put it on.

-Eddie is very talented at most things he does, fixing, building, mixing drinks (he can even do some tricks with shakers), and there's a plethora of odd things he's picked up throughout the years. However this makes him get pretty frustrated when things don't work out the first couple times he attempts something. While not the main reason, this is part of why he was so frustrated and irritable during most of his main plot. Volt sometimes has to remind him that it's okay to not have everything figured out immediately, or pull him from his work if he's starting to stress out or exhaust himself too much.

-On the topic of pulling Eddie from his work, that is a feat. Volt full well knows he can't just ask Eddie to take a break, usually he has to either ask him to do something easier as a favor, or blame the break on himself.

"Oh Eddie, I know your in the middle of something but could you wipe the bar down? I have no time before we open."

"Eddieeeee, I have no one to watch the new season of Cougar vs Cougar with! Would you take a break to and come watch it with me? Please! Just for a little bit! Just one episode!" (They got through like 2 1/2 before Eddie passed tf out)

-Oh yeah, Volt loves reality TV and Eddie pretends to not be at least a little invested.

-Eddie can draw. Volt cannot. Volt is very jealous of Eddie in this regard.

-Infodumpingggggggg. They infodump to one another without even realizing it, it is so much of how they communicate. They will ramble and bounce ideas off each other, mostly about the club but about other stuff too.

-On the flip side. They can also communicate by saying pretty much nothing, just through brief glances. I think it would partly be because they are literally split from the same thing but it's more in that way when you widen your eyes slightly at your bestie and that equates to like a full paragraph of text.

-Eddie is short af, Volt is tall af.

-Volt makes fun of Eddie for being short

-Like seriously ya know that audio that's like "I know we don't always see eye to eye" "that because your too short to do so"

-Eddie will get revenge. He can kick/punch really hard but he can also come up with some other very clever ways of revenge. Do not mess with the guy who has access to the tools.

-Neither of them really like just hard liquor. Volt likes sweeter drinks and Eddie likes quality craft beers. If either sees the other drinking something like scotch/whiskey they can usually assume somethings wrong.

-Volt has sooooo many ideas for the club, several of which are not exactly... possible. Eddie has to be the one to break the news to him that No Volt we can't break down the retaining wall of the bar and turn it into an inanimal fish tank. Why? Because without it the roof would collapse!

-Volt's love languages are physical touch and words of affirmation

-Eddie's love language is acts of service.

-Going deeper into that, Volt loves physical touch, as previously mentioned. Eddie however does not. But they make it work, Eddie can tell when Volt needs a hug or just to have someone next to him, Volt can tell when Eddie is getting overstimulated or just needs space.

-They both have their ears pierced. Volt did it for both of them.

-Eddie actually quite likes talking to people, I mean he's definitely tended the bar at some point, he just doesn't like talking to annoying people. He's sarcastic and his humor is a bit deadpan and he's more reserved, but he 100% can be very funny and hold conversations very well with patrons and even better with friends.

-That being said, bro does not chat while he works on maintenance. If anyone, including Volt, is working with him, he isn't saying shit unless its telling them what to do, or looking over their work. If someones lucky they get a "Good job."

-Neither have ever been a fan of the dark, but they especially would not be after the black out.

-They both hate silence, I mean they work in a night club, at this point it just feels unnatural.

-Kinda already mentioned this but Volt gets quiet angry and Eddie gets loud angry. If Volt goes silent, you know you fucked up. On the opposite end, it will sometimes be assumed that Eddie is mad because he's being quiet but that just how he is, if Eddie actually is properly yelling you know he's upset.

-Nerve damage babyyyyyy. It is all up Eddie's arms, contributes to why he's not super touchy because his arms get that awful pulling, itchy, pain when something touches them.

-Volt can get some nasty fatigue. The electricity fluctuates? Bro is immediately drained, head rush, migraine, the whole shabang.

-Not really headcanon but neither of them are good at admitting they need help or at accepting it when its offered.

-They both know each others triggers tho, and make sure to tell the other to rest when they need to. Neither take their own advice.

-Eddie hyperfocuses like crazy. If he sits down with his tools, something to fix and no one around he will not move from that spot for hours.

-Volt is always jumping from project to project, person to person, never slowing down. There's a lot to do in the breaker box and he is more than happy to juggle all of it.

-Both of them forget to sleep because of these facts. and eat (do they eat?). and talk to other things. and talk to each other. and-

-They would be cat people. Volt has definitely brought up getting an inanimal from Mateo but Eddie is always hesitant (even though he would 100% end up loving it to bits if they got one)

----

Ya'll I think I'm a loser. Instead of being out on a night off I am sitting in my bedroom writing headcanons about an actual breaker box in a dating sim that I'm not even attracted to, I just think their silly. What is my life T-T

[hooked-on-elvis]

[devilsrecreation]

New hc that makes me lowkey emotional

One of Pua’s lullabies is that he would sing about staying strong and how their parents will always love them even if they’re not with them anymore

Jasiri and Madoa’s mom, Athiri, sung a similar lullaby, where she encourages them to be brave and kind before she passed away

[sysig]

Good to see you again ♥ (Patreon)

Bonus:

[deathofacupid]

★ biker!sukuna who's lovesick for bimbo!reader <33 › more for this dynamic here !

biker!sukuna's friends tried to warn him. they told him you weren't the sharpest tool in the shed, that you had a reputation. it didn't work. sukuna's never been one to listen, so they gave up on warnings and went straight to making fun of him instead.

they teased him endlessly about how you'd managed to wrap the king of the streets around your pretty, perfectly manicured finger.

gojo would point out the way sukuna literally blushed when you kissed his cheek. toji would poke fun at him for nearly snapping his neck just hearing your name in conversation. even nanami, the ever-stoic man, couldn't help but mention the genuine heart-eyes sukuna got whenever you walked by.

it's annoying to him, but what's even more annoying is how true it all is. yeah, he's down bad. yeah, he's addicted. so what? you get him higher than any drug, with the sweet scent of your shampoo and the even sweeter taste of your lips.

what's most irritating is that he's completely accepted it. he's yours, all yours. he parades it around like a known fact: the lipstick stains on his collarbones, the several annoyingly pink bows you've tied to all his belongings. (he's talking bike handles, helmet, backpack, dog-tag chains — everything.)

and sure, you weren't some rocket scientist, but who cares? it's kind of refreshing, actually. you live in this little, glittery, naive bubble. you don't know the horrors out there. when he comes home to you, you don't smother him or ask where he's been. you don't assume the worst because you're simply not aware of it.

he used to call you princess in a snarky way. you had your daddy's money, always used to getting your way. he thought he knew you, knew your kind—the filthy rich elite.

but when he really got to know you, he realized he was wrong. you smiled at every stranger, fed stray cats, and were even nice to kids, who are usually a pain in the ass. the nickname stuck, but now it was endearing.

he'll follow you around on your shopping sprees, more often than not shooting death stares at any man who even glances at you. it’s an odd sight: such a broody, large man covered in tattoos... right next to a sweet, pretty doll draped in baby pink. it's an oddity, but anyone who wants to keep all their limbs intact won't utter a word.

"'kuna," you hum, glossy lips pursed in thought. "which shade should i get?"

half-heartedly, he looks up from his phone, shifting his weight from one foot to another. the many, many shopping bags rustle in his hold.

sukuna grunts, shrugging. "what do i care?" briefly, his eyes skim from one end of the aisle to the other. every tube of lipstick looks the same to him.

you pick one up, inspecting the color. not even looking up, you chirp, "it's your cock that'll have the ring of it around." you say it like it's a fact, like you have no idea what you do to him.

"oh, jesus," he mutters, nearly choking as he shoves his phone into his pocket. sukuna sticks his hand out, swiping it across the entire top row; the lipsticks clatter into the plastic of the basket.

oh, well, okay then. all of them it is. you won't be caught dead complaining, anyways.

[s0dium]

Cocky men

A/n: Cocky prideful men have been on my mind

Warnings: Mating press, teasing, submissive reader

~ Cocky men who are just so full of themselves, who know how handsome they are, who know how good they fuck.

You want to resist, you hate knowing that you're just another one of his conquests but he's just so irresistible. And he's close to you, too close. You can smell his old spice shampoo mixed with something sweeter and you can practically taste it on the tip of your tongue- it's a smell that makes you want to bury your nose into him over and over again.

He bends down, his lips just grazing your cheek, a feather-light touch that sends shivers down your spine, making your entire body quiver. "If you want me to stop, say it now," he whispers. When you remain silent, he brushes his mouth against the hollow of your temple. "Or now." He traces the curve of your cheekbone. "Or now." His lips meet yours.

It is all a blur from there, but now your on your back, naked, legs pressed flush against your chest effectively folding you in half and spreading you open. And oh boy do the curtains match the drapes because he is so big. His dick fills you up better than your fingers or a stupid dildo ever could and the drag against your walls with every thrust, the friction, it's delicious.

"This what you imagined in that pretty head of yours?" He chuckles, and you open your mouth to say something but he already capturing your lips with his. You whine into his mouth and you let his tongue weave its way into yours. His hands slides down to your throat, giving your the sides of it a squeeze to softly block your air flow.

"Huhhh... so good m'feel so good." You whine. You think you must be dreaming with how euphoric everything feels right now. The pleasure is so good it's all you can think about, it's absorbing you. Your abdomen tightens with every surge of hot tingly goodness that comes with each thrust and electric flesh arrows of pleasure dance along your skin.

"Oh I know baby, I know you do," He coos, bucking up his hips teasingly.  He lets out a soft groan at the way your pussy feverishly grips his dick. The sound of wet sweaty skin slapping mix and mingle in the sex steamed air. You want to scream at the way his dick fills you up so perfectly every time he snaps his hips into yours.

A mixture of pre cum and your juices accumulates at the base of his dick and every vein on his cock dragged against your velvety walls, catching on your entrance as her pulled back before falling back into you.

“You can cum princess, we got all the time in the world."

Gojo, Sukuna, Toji, Kuroo, Atsumu Miya, Oikawa, Kakashi, Sanemi, Uzui Tengen

[monstersholygrail]

Ex-Playboy Snow Leopard Hybrid is used to bringing out the vocal side of his sexual partners. Both outside and inside the bedroom. They just can’t hold it in around him, their endless sounds of pleasure.

It’s no surprise how easy it is for him, he’s more than well aware that he’s special. He’s a prize, a rare hybrid that anyone would give their lives to pleasure. And he took advantage of that for a long time.

That is until he met you and gave it all up.

On average he can make a person unravel and scream their throats raw with ease. It barely took any effort for him at all. But like everything when it comes to you, is a special case.

He’s trying and failing not to lose himself in you as he fucks orgasm after orgasm out of you. Bringing you to release at least twice on his fingers, another thrice on his tongue, and who knows how many times he’s rolled you around into different positions till you’re squirting all over his sheets.

Yet while he’s drunk off your holes and your sweet essence, you look completely indifferent. Your eyes just barely glassy with arousal is the only proof he has of his effect on you. A harsh whimper tears out of him. He’s getting desperate here.

Slipping out of you causes you to softly whine, momentarily soothing your bf from going feral on your ass. But it’s still not enough, not even close. He digs his claws into your plush hips and flips you back over, his arms hook beneath your knees and he folds you into a mean mating press as he slams his cock back inside you in one brutal snap of his hips.

He growls furiously as you don’t even gasp, your eyes only slightly widening and your back arching. He needs more, he needs to hear you. His tail thrashes around behind him and he’s not even controlling it as it wraps your ankle tightly, claiming every part of you.

It’s impossible to control himself now that he’s back inside your snug walls so he immediately starts back up at a frantic pace, driving his cock upward and hitting all those deep sensitive spots inside of you. Meanwhile his eyes never leave yours, looking for any sign of a reaction. A flush of your soft chubby cheeks or a tear of euphoria that falls from your gorgeous eyes.

One particular smack of your hips against his has you crying out loudly, your body writhing beneath him and silently begging for more.

“F-fuck, nngh, yes!!” You cry out.

Your bf gasps in awe like he’s finally found his perfect prey after a long hunt. It’s no scream or mewl but it’s a start. And thank god, he was starting to wonder if he’s actually bad at this. But of course he’s not.

And he continues to prove it as he picks up his pace, rutting into you like he’s gone into his rut. Eliciting louder moans, cries, and even small shrieks with every precise and carefully planned plunge of his cock along your sopping tight hole.

“Oh, yes! Ah— fuck yes, right there! Don’t stop!” You scream as if possessed and your grins, his fangs glinting in the light as he fucks into you at a steady rough pace.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby,” he purrs, low rumbles vibrating from his chest while he watches the pleasure he wracks out of you as he fucks you brainless.

Satisfaction curls in your bf’s chest and he hasn’t even cum yet. But your sounds are sweeter than any release he’s ever experienced in his entire sexual history. He can tell that each snap of his hips sends you closer to release. There’s nothing he wants more than to give that to you. I

“So good, oh my god, it’s so good! More, more, mmph-more,” you scream out your ecstasy with stars in your eyes. And there it is. Just what he’s been looking for.

“Well… only ‘cause ya begged so pretty,” he rasps and slips a hand between your hot sweaty bodies.

Your body jolts against his as he rubs his fingers along your bundle of nerves, forcing out strings of delightful shrieks and moans. The force of his thrusts send your thighs shaking and your hole fluttering around his toe-curling girth. And the dual stimulation has you hurtling over the edge.

Waves of euphoria wash over you and your final orgasm crashes through your body like a storm. Noises even he’s never heard of fall out of you, the sounds warping and crackling under the weight of pleasure. Worse than the sounds of a dying animal. And your bf is relishing in it, letting it fuel him to reach his own release.

With one final buck of his hips, he slams his knot inside of you just in time to release his heavy load as deep inside your hole as he can get. He roars while he empties himself of you, spurt after spurt flooding your tight channel and filling you to the brim.

He works you both through it until your trembling body relaxes and merely twitches from the aftershocks. Afterwards he plops down right on top of your plush frame and nuzzles into the thick curve of your neck, purring loudly and contently. Looking at him like this you never would’ve guessed he was ever a playboy.

His own satisfaction in himself and how good he made you feel makes you happy in return. A soft smile spreads across your face as your arms curl around him. Relaxing and holding him close as his knot keeps you two locked together.

Seeing just how proud he is of himself maybe it’s better not to tell him that while the climax was real, all of the noises were faked.

[yintous]

party 4 u

❪ masterlist ❫ · out of character (or not) things the batboys did while being head over heels for you ⸝⸝⸝ crackfic ノ situationship hcs

🗒️ not proofread, more content under the cut ; VERY SATIRE. inspired by my sweeter than honey work and stupid things i did for my ex-situationship

DICK GRAYSON

wholeheartedly cussed out a barista inside his head when he saw them subtly flirting with you at the cashier

when his jealousy is mild he’s like “oh my god. i hope they slip on a drink and ruin that stupidly clean apron.” or “i can make a better latte! (name) just hasn’t seen it yet 🙄”

and he actually did learn how to make a better latte—that resulted in you visiting his apartment for morning coffee (when you went home he turned to the sky and absorbed the sunlight. eyes closed and everything out of pure gratitude)

started journaling whenever he got impulsively jealous and frustrated over the unlabeled relationship and somehow it always ends up being a love letter to you???

when he senses your presence, he gives himself five seconds to fix his hair and practice a charming smile before facing you 😭😭😭 atp it’s a habit he can never get rid of

you once saw him smiling weirdly at a mirror when he thought you weren’t looking (he was trying to see what the best smile was…..literally scrolled abt the types of smiles people have before it all) and you had to resist the urge to outright giggle

JASON TODD

listened to radiohead’s whole discography when he first got jealous while glaring at his ceiling, arms crossed and everything

his brooding got ruined when his earphones started glitching and he had to hold one of them at a specific angle so both of them would have audio

brushes his bangs back whenever he sighs at the thought of you (you literally cannot leave his brain). he brushed his hair back so often you thought he suddenly started liking slickbacks

scrolled through a comment section full of people that were ranting abt the annoying stuff their partners do and made a vow to himself to never do the things mentioned to you

goons CANNOT get away from him when he’s having a day wherein he got jealous over someone else flirting with you 😭 and after allat beating up and shooting the said goons, he acts like nothing happened

as in he literally texts you a “good evening” text and asked if you were free for dinner (it was two am)

TIM DRAKE

he felt like he was in a bad romcom. desperate times call for desperate measures i fear 💔 tried to analyze your body language to somehow read your mind/feelings toward him (he got 0 sleep that day)

wasn’t a believer in astrology but proceeded to analyze his and your birth chart to see if you guys would fit (he somehow found your documents)

tried the “triangle method” on you where he looks to your left eye, then your right, then to your lips—and was genuinely confused when YOU looked confused

you overheard him ranting to himself about your situationship. he was putting a lot of emotion into it

(sometimes he literally mumbles in ANGER abt it when he sleeps)

tried to deepen his voice around you (esp during the times where you two banter) but it did nothing but make the mood awkward (grew the habit of sending vms instead of text messages while deepening his voice bc he thought it’ll make you like him more)

DUKE THOMAS

bit a little too hard on your bottom lip while kissing you

he could’ve sworn he saw the grim reaper because of how embarrassed he was when he heard your noise of pain LIKE 💔💔 every time he closes his eyes, he sees it happening again

like jason, his charger instead of his earphones broke while texting you so he had to angle his phone a certain way while trying to keep up a convo with you

to make it even worse, it was overheating and all too 🥀🥀🥀 in the back of his mind he could already see the image of his phone exploding right in front of him but he still didn’t gaf and continued texting you

was lowkey obsessed with your perfume and hated the push-and-pull situationship thing so when you were away from him, he went on a whole perfume hunt

and the salespeople who assisted him were so?? confused?? because of how specific his description was??? and the description felt targeted to a certain someone instead of it being about an actual perfume??

DAMIAN WAYNE

dedicates every art he’s consumed to you OR gets inspired by said art to create something similar to the media that was presented to him

once wrote a romeo and juliet piece but it was yours and his version of it with no death or wtv (he made one of the lines from the story his wallpaper)

made a 100 excuses about needing to learn body anatomy so you’d get the hint and FINALLY let him use your appearance to study anatomy (he needed an excuse to look at you more without getting teased)

overheard that you liked ear piercings on guys so he pierced himself while half asleep in his bathroom

he would’ve regretted it if he didn’t catch your eyes wandering to the new piercing the morning after

impulsively carved your name on his sword and he is NOT hearing the end of it from his family at all

© yintous do not copy, repost, plagiarize, or feed any of my work into ai.

[luna-azzurra]

Write Rivals With Chemistry So Hot It Hurts

╰ Rivalry isn’t hate — it’s obsession True rivals aren't just like, “ugh, I dislike you.” They’re watching each other. Studying. Matching moves. Thinking about each other when they shouldn’t. Hating how much they notice the other person. Rivalry is two sides of the same coin: hatred’s messy little sibling is fascination.

╰ Let them know exactly where to hit—and hesitate The best rivals know exactly where to stick the knife. Childhood wounds. Secret fears. Insecurities no one else sees. But the most powerful moment isn't when they stab, it's when they hesitate. When they flinch. When the reader sees the care underneath the kill shot.

╰ Make every win personal Every victory between rivals should feel like flirting with a knife’s edge. They don't just beat each other; they get under each other's skin. "I outsmarted you" translates directly to "I'm the only one who really sees you." (And no, they're not ready to talk about why that makes them insane.)

╰ Layer the attraction under everything You don't have to write "he found her hot" every five seconds. (Please don't.) Just lace it into the friction. The way they notice each other’s hands. The way a sarcastic smile feels like a slap and a kiss at the same time. Let it be unspoken, which somehow makes it ten times louder.

╰ Give them one private, honest moment and then destroy them for it That one late-night conversation. That brush of honesty. That accidental partnership in a bar fight. That glimpse of trust that leaves them both raw and feral because now it’s personal. Now it hurts. And guess what? Neither of them is stable enough to handle it like adults.

╰ Let them wound each other in ways no one else can Rivals with chemistry are like: “I know your softest place. I know where you hurt. And maybe I’m the only one who could ever touch it.” Terrifying. Intimate. Sexy. Self-destructive. Delicious.

╰ Don’t make it easy to flip to love If they hook up too soon, it’s cheap. If they confess too soon, it’s fake. They have to fight it. They have to screw it up. They have to almost kiss and almost kill each other in the same breath. The reward is sweeter because it’s hard won.

╰ Make them jealous, but make it messy Not cutesy "oh no I'm jealous" moments. Ugly jealousy. Pride-shredding, shame-inducing jealousy. Watching their rival smile at someone else and feeling like they're drowning in acid and denial. Bonus points if they pretend they’re above it and then spiral anyway.

╰ Tension isn’t just in the fighting, it’s in the silences It’s the stare across the room that says “I hate you and I want you” with zero words. It’s the hand that lingers a second too long after pulling them out of danger. It's the unsent text. It's the "accidental" meeting. Sometimes not speaking burns hotter than the screaming matches.

╰ Remember, they don’t want to ruin each other, they want to matter At the core of a rival/chemistry dynamic is one truth: “I want to matter to you more than anyone else does.” And they’ll deny it. And fight it. And wreck themselves over it. (And we, as the readers, will eat it with a goddamn spoon.)

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader (2)

contents: tooth-rotting fluff. arranged marriage au. sylus as your sweet and doting husband who's simply in love with you and anything that you do. 1.5k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ thank you for everyone's patience who requested a part two!! I truly hope this meets your expectations <3

part one here. ꒱

⭒ You’re an early bird married to a night owl. After gradually moving your belongings into Sylus’ master bedroom, your different sleeping schedules were made acutely aware. His day is just beginning when you’re heading to bed and he’s more or less mentally retired after a long night of business dealings and meetings when your body decidedly rises with the first rays of light at dawn. Because of this, you both compromise to meet somewhere in the middle—Sylus sweetly tucks you in later than your usual bedtime and leaves only when you’d fallen asleep, and you snuggle with him in the mornings until the very last minute and you’re forced to get ready for the working day. However, his sleeping patterns are more on the irregular side and he’ll check in on you when he’s supposed to be resting.

⭒ When Luke and Kieran witness you and Sylus bid each other with a goodbye kiss—an affectionate and wholesome display between lovers as your husband sees you off to work at the front door, they are stunned and lose it from the sidelines at the budding romance. “Wait, what just happened?” “Was there a development while we were gone?” The crow twins would share glances and decipher the scene before them together. They both have been rooting for you and their boss since day one, and they marvel at the way you both are completely smitten with each other. As though you two are like newlyweds who can't get enough of your shared love, unwilling to separate just yet even as you slowly step away from Sylus.

⭒ His touch linger with purpose to hold onto every last part of you and his hands move from your waist and slide down your arms to hold your hands until his fingers curl slightly and mourn the loss of your warmth when he eventually has to let you go. When Sylus watches your figure disappear and return back inside his home he receives a thumbs up and pending double high fives respectively from his two henchmen. He walks past them and ignores their antics by giving them orders, but Luke doesn’t leave his brother hanging and celebrates that their boss is officially and undeniably in love.

⭒ Anniversaries were an unexpected thing to celebrate with Sylus—along with holidays and birthdays. You were caught by surprise when you received a gorgeous dress and pearls inside a pretty wrapped box adorned with ribbons after being married to Sylus for three months. You weren’t quite romantically involved with him at that point and went along with what he planned for the evening, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just a performance for the public at an upscale restaurant but he genuinely wanted to make this night special for you. Then something in the air shifted and became sweeter and you suppose you wanted to start making the smaller things in life count. Even if there wasn’t a particular milestone coming up, you decide to make one up yourself. After all, there’s a true saying that the secret to marriage is keeping it fresh and interesting.

⭒ With the help of the cute twins, they set up a cozy tent in the verdant space of the garden meanwhile you decorate fairy lights all around in swooping arcs and tight lines, arrange pillows and blankets inside, and place a deck of kitty cards in the center. After everything is where you need it to be, you show the boys your gratitude and send them away as you work on the finishing touches. You gather the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and two glasses for the red wine when suddenly your husband sneaks up from behind you and wrap himself around you, inquiring about how the twins wanted him to come find you… Oh those cheeky little things. Well, never mind them. “Don’t tell me that you forgot what today is. Happy 300 days since our first kiss, baby.” You admit that it may come off as a little silly and no one’s truly keeping count, but you simply wanted to do something nice for him.

⭒ Sylus never passes up an opportunity to take care of his darling wife. Even if that means going along with your unusual ideas like you suggesting to borrow his dress shoes after the auction show was over. He throws you a puzzled look followed by a bemuse chuckle, and he supposes he could oblige if that’s what you really wanted. You explain to him that being well dressed from head to toe to match his outfit came at the price of your painfully, aching feet. And he can’t resist giving into your demands when you ask with such adorable little pouts. There are more practical methods to go about the situation, but he certainly loves humoring you even if things don't work out the way you thought they would.

⭒ Sylus leads you to a nearby bench and gestures for you to have a seat while he removes his shoes and bends down on one knee before you, unworried about dirtying his expensive trousers. He works diligently to undo the straps around your ankles and place your heels aside to focus on slipping his shoes onto your feet. “Well, you look quite fetching in my shoes. Now shall we continue our walk or do you have any more requests to make?” He helps you straighten yourself as he returns to his normal height. You huff and make a discontent noise when you almost trip over your own two feet trying to take a step forward in your (his) much too large and too spacious shoes. “Actually, these won’t do. I changed my mind, I want my heels back.”

⭒ Sylus chuckles at your hopeless attempt, his hand going on your hip to keep you from toppling over and accidentally hurting yourself. “Ah, it appears my shoes are too big for you, kitten. You say you want your heels back, hm?” He kneels before you once more as he retrieves your pair of heels, his fingers brushing along the underside of your leg and he carefully tugs them back on your feet. He gives your ankle a gentle squeeze as he finishes securing the straps, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. "There, I hope you're satisfied now, my sweet wife." His arm then goes around your waist and he effortlessly lifts you off the ground without so much as a warning. He smirks at your precious reaction, your body flushed against his meanwhile your arms encircle his neck for balance. “Why don’t I just carry you the rest of the way instead?”

⭒ You’re snuggled up against Sylus’ chest as you bring a concern to his attention one night. “What happens when our arrangement comes to an end?” The main reason you agreed to marry him in the first place is because it was a contract marriage with a specific time frame of five years that you’d have to spend with him. And you realize that with everything he does, he’s always been considerate of you as a whole even with how he drafted this contract knowing that it could end at his own expense. He provided you with a means of freeing yourself from him if you for whatever reason wished to no longer continue your marriage with him after the term ends. The choice is left entirely up to you because he never wanted you to feel trapped but he won’t make it easy for you. “If I decided to leave, you’d really let me go?”

⭒ Sylus hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on you and he seems to be thinking about something as his expression grows serious. “You always know how to ask the tough questions, don’t you sweetie?” After a moment, he lets out a small sigh and nods. “…Yes. Technically, you’ll be free to go. I won’t stop you if you truly want to leave.” Another sigh escapes him, yet his voice remains soft and sincere and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his palm cradles your cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay. What do you want to happen when the contract ends, darling?”

⭒ You mull over your thoughts, teasing him with a pensive look as you purposely drag on the seconds. “Since you’re leaving it up to me, I think… I want to renew our vows at the five-year mark. How’s that sound?” A surprise and slight disbelief flit across his face at the same moment his countenance softens at your affirmation. “You want to renew our vows?” You offer him a demure nod with your sweet smile and he gently takes your hand in his, bringing it to his face and laying a kiss against your knuckles. “Then it’s settled. I would be honored to renew our vows when the time comes. There will be no more contracts or strings attached. We’ll be bound by our love and our love only.”

[barnesonly]

omg could u write a lil blurb abt Buck breaking the bed? just somethin cute and fluff where it happens and they kinda just stare then laugh? thanks!

YESSS oh my god honestly I think about his super soldier strength so often… maybe this isn’t the cutest at first but i tried to make it more rough to soft 😭

You knew dating a super soldier would come with some… perks. Like the fact that Bucky could lift you like you weighed nothing, pin you down with just one hand, and fuck you so deep you forgot your own name. But apparently, it also came with casualties.

Like the bed.

The poor, innocent bed.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled against your throat, hips snapping into yours hard and fast with enough force to make the bed creak., his metal hand gripping the headboard for leverage. “Takin’ me so good. You feel that? So fuckin’ good for me.”

You did feel it. You felt everything—his voice in your ear, the drag of his cock, the way his fingers gripped your thighs tight enough to bruise. You could barely catch your breath, moaning and gasping, lost in the bliss of it—

Then came a loud, splintering crack.

And suddenly the entire top half of the bed frame gave way behind you with a groan of tortured wood and metal.

You both froze. Just… blinked at each other.

He was still inside you. You were still gasping. The headboard was definitely no longer attached to anything.

There was a long, stunned silence.

Then you both burst out laughing.

You buried your face in his shoulder, wheezing between giggles, while Bucky let out a breathless “shit,” laughing right along with you. “I didn’t mean to—fuck, that was not the plan.”

“You broke the bed, Buck,” you wheezed, tears stinging your eyes from how hard you were laughing now.

“I mean,” he grinned down at you, completely unrepentant, “I was giving it my best effort.”

You rolled your eyes, still grinning like an idiot as the laughter slowly faded into something softer. His hand brushed your cheek, gentle now. The same hand that had been holding you down moments ago like you’d come undone if he let go.

“You okay?” he murmured, voice lower now, sweeter.

You nodded, heart still racing for more than one reason. “Yeah. Are you?”

He smiled—one of those rare, unguarded smiles that made your chest ache a little. “I’m perfect.”

He kissed you then—slow, deep, like he had all the time in the world—and suddenly the broken bed didn’t matter. The only thing that did was the way he held you afterward, warm and close and careful, like you were the only thing in the world he couldn’t break.

And honestly? You could live with that perk.

[mic-qw]

Yandere Femboy x Reader

Warnings: emotional manipulation, bullying, obsessive possessive behavior, emotional dependency, toxic relationships.

Aiden was always perfect.

You knew it from the first day he sat next to you in class, deliberately dropped his pencil case, and said with a bright smile, “Oh, can you grab that for me? I’m so clumsy!”

From that moment on, you were stuck to him like you had no choice. But the truth is, you didn’t want one.

Aiden was addictive.

You never realized when he stopped being just a friend and became a light that followed you everywhere. He’d wake you up with voice messages at 7 a.m.:

“Good morning! Time to wake up! You look tired today… did you dream about me, or did you cry because I wasn’t by your side?”

And even though he said it jokingly, there was always something more. A pause. A “laugh” that didn’t sound amused.

He bought you things you never asked for. He took photos of you without you noticing. He introduced you as “his favorite person” to others—but if you so much as talked to someone else, he’d go silent and serious for hours.

Once, you told him you liked someone. Just as a joke, to see how he’d react. And he smiled. Not a nice smile.

A small, tight-lipped smile with a clenched jaw. You could feel his gaze drilling into you. He slung his arm around your shoulders and said,

“Glad you have some hope. But no one’s ever going to love you like I do, right?”

Then he kissed your cheek, hard. You could still feel the smear of his lipstick afterwards.

After that day, something changed.

Aiden wouldn’t let you walk home alone, even if you lived close by. He always had a reason. That he was just passing by. That he wanted to talk. That you looked sad.

“Don’t lie to me. I know you better than I know myself.”

He’d send you pictures of his meals, his outfits, even his bed.

“I miss when you used to sleep over… you haven’t come by in forever” He’d say it with cute emojis. But it never felt cute.

And when you started talking to that other person—the one you only shared classwork with—Aiden’s gestures became even softer. Sweeter. More perfect.

But the messages didn’t.

One night, you found one that said:

“So that’s what you’re into now? God, how basic. Did you seriously lower yourself like that? I wonder how long he’ll be interested once he realizes it takes you HOURS to reply.”

You didn’t answer. And the next day, that person never looked you in the eyes again.

You didn’t get it at first.

You thought it was a coincidence. That people were just busy. That the weird comments were misunderstandings. That canceled plans were just bad timing.

Until you noticed how people looked at you— With a mix of pity, discomfort… and distance.

Aiden, on the other hand, was shining more than ever. Surrounded by people. Smiling radiantly. Speaking in that sweet, angelic way that made everything sound like poetry.

“Don’t tell her I said anything, okay? I’m just… worried. She’s been acting so strange lately.”

A soft laugh. A touch on someone’s arm. A downcast look, like he was really hurting.

And that was all it took. A sad little smile and a concerned tone. Everyone believed him.

He was so beautiful. So perfect it felt unreal. But without a doubt—he was the best at playing the victim.

And you, without even realizing it, started to lose everything.

One by one, people drifted away. They stopped texting back. They avoided you in the hallways.

But Aiden was always there to comfort you.

“Poor thing… Nobody wants to talk to you anymore? That’s so cruel. But it’s okay, you don’t need them. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

He’d say that while brushing a tear from your cheek with his soft palm, that delicate smile of his making him look like an angel who had just fallen from heaven.

And even if you tried to connect with others, to get away from him… You knew deep down— You would always end up back in your best friend’s arms.

[cutielando]

paws and chaos | lando norris

synopsis: in which you and Lando decide to adopt a golden retriever

a/n: i don’t know about you guys, but Lando always gives off golden retriever energy, so it’s only logical that he adopts a goldie

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

my masterlist

It had all started with an innocent comment on your part.

"I saw the cutest video of a puppy on TikTok this morning" you had said one morning, scrolling through your phone while Lando sipped on a cup of tea next to you.

"Oh yeah?" he said, looking up from his phone to look at you.

"Yeah. I'd love to have one someday" you said, absentmindedly.

Lando tilted his head, his lips curling into a mischievous smile.

"Someday? Why not today?" he asked, making you blink up at him.

"What?"

"Let's get a dog today" he said, his voice filled with excitement.

"Lando, we can't just-" you started, ready to list all of the reasons as to why this was not a good idea.

But Lando was having none of it. He had already stood up from the dining table, his tea long forgotten as he grabbed his laptop from the counter.

And that's how you found yourselves, twenty minutes later, scrolling through the website of the nearby animal shelter in Monaco. Each puppy he pointed out seemed cuter and sweeter than the last, and despite every protest you tried to make about the two of you being unprepared to care for a puppy, you couldn't deny the effect that each of the tiny faces staring back at you had.

After meticulous analysis of every puppy picture on the website, Lando had stopped on the one.

A scruffy little thing with floppy ears, soulful eyes and a patch of fur that stuck up awkwardly on the top of his head. Both of your hearts melted once you had stared at the picture, a silent agreement that this was the one for you.

The shelter had named him Benny, but Lando immediately decided to rename him Turbo.

"Look at him! He's perfect, don't you think?" he exclaimed excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat.

You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked at your overjoyed boyfriend.

"Do you really think we can do this?" you asked, wanting to make sure he knew what he was getting himself into.

He nodded, his eyes staring back at you.

"Fine, let's go meet him"

♡♡♡♡♡

Not even an hour later, you were at the animal shelter, waiting for the staff to bring out Benny Turbo.

The moment he toddled into the room, he made a straight beeline for Lando, his tiny tail wagging so hard it looked like it might propel him off the floor and into the air.

"Mate, you're going to break the sound barrier with that thing" Lando laughed, scooping the puppy into his arms.

Turbo immediately licked Lando's cheek, earning a delighted squeal from your boyfriend.

After a couple of moments, the goldie turned his attention to you. And then it was game over. He wiggled out of Lando's arms and climbed into your lap, pawing at your hands and nibbling on your fingers with his tiny teeth.

"Okay, he's absolutely adorable" you admitted, your heart completely stolen as you enjoyed the attention from the small puppy.

Lando grinned triumphantly.

"I told you" he said, making you roll your eyes.

By the time you got home, Turbo had already earned himself the spot as the king of the house.

He darted from one room into another, sniffing everything he encountered in his sight. When he found Lando's shoe near the couch, he proudly dragged it to his newly installed bed and plopped down on it, staring at the two of you with the shoe still in his mouth.

"Turbo, that's not a chew toy" Lando groaned, chasing after him.

You watched from the doorway, laughing as Lando tried to wrestle the shoe from the determined and stubborn puppy.

It ended with both of them sprawled on the floor, Turbo wagging his tail like he'd won a championship, the shoe still with him.

"What did we get ourselves into?" you thought to yourself.

♡♡♡♡♡

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of adorable chaos.

Turbo was a ball of endless energy, absolutely no corner from your home being safe from his antics and zoomies.

He chewed on the table legs, got tangled into the window curtains and almost broke them. He even managed to steal an entire loaf of bread off the counter while you weren't looking at him.

"Where's the bread I just bought?" you asked one evening, looking around the kitchen with a confused face.

Lando looked around with you until he stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide.

"Uh... Turbo?" he slowly said, his eyes focused on the living room.

You followed his gaze to the room, seeing Turbo sat proudly next to the loaf you had been looking for, crumbs scattered all around him on the carpet like confetti.

"I can't even be mad at him" you sighed picking him up.

He smiled as he started licking your face, his tail thumping against your arm excitedly as he got your attention and affection.

Lando laughed, quickly taking out his phone to snap a picture of you and Turbo.

"You're going to break the internet with that face, Turbo" Lando said, looking at his phone for a moment.

You laughed, leaning down to press a sweet kiss on the top of his fluffy head.

A couple of hours later, it was late into the evening when you and Lando decided to head to your shared bedroom.

Despite the mischief and endless zoomies, Turbo was the sweetest little cuddle bug when nighttime came. Every night, just like that night, he would climb into bed with you and lay down between you and Lando, waiting for belly scratches.

"This is my favorite part of the day" you said, scratching Turbo's ears as he sighed contentedly.

"Yeah, mine too" Lando said, staring at you two.

What more could he want in life?

♡♡♡♡♡

As the weeks passed and Turbo grew, so did the bond between the three of you.

You celebrated every little milestone that he would have: his first trip to the local park where he chased the butterflies and made friends with every dog he came across, every road trip that you guys would take where Turbo would insist on sitting on your lap, every Grand Prix that he would attend as Lando's number 1 fan.

You celebrated and captured every moment.

But you also loved the bond between him and Lando.

One night, after coming home late from a girls' night out, you found Lando lying on the floor with Turbo sprawled across his chest. Lando was whispering softly to him, his voice filled with affection for his little best buddy

"You know, you're the best decision I've ever made. But don't tell your mother I said that, she'll get jealous" he said, running is fingers through Turbo's soft fur.

"I heard that" you called from the doorway, grinning widely as Lando looked up sheepishly.

Lando reached out to you, prompting you to sit down next to him, smiling once Turbo got up from Lando's chest and settled on your lap.

"Traitor" Lando said, pouting as he lost in your detriment.

You shrugged, sticking your tongue out at him as you cuddled Turbo close to your chest.

"You're both the best decisions I've ever made" Lando whispered under his breath, making sure that neither of you heard him.

He was just grateful for you both.

♡♡♡♡♡

Months later, as you sat on the couch with Lando's arm around your shoulders and Turbo snoring softly in your lap, you realized just how much joy the tiny, scruffy puppy had brought into your lives.

"I have to give you credit. Turbo was the best impulse decision you've ever talked me into making" you murmured, your hand continuing to caress his soft fur.

You felt Lando smile against the top of your head before planting a kiss.

"I told you"

And as Turbo let out a little snort in his sleep, you couldn't imagine your home without him or without Lando by your side.

They were everything you could ever need.

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[soluversworld]

HEY GIRL so I was stalking fantasias page and looked at her NSFW alphabet for Sol with a wild card being "He thought about getting a Frenum piercing to see if you'd like it/feel the metal"

Idk if I already asked abt this or not😭

I GOT YOU BESTIE, NO YOU DIDN'T REQUEST THIS BEFORE!

(Edit, Wrote this because, I'm stressed out)

Genre : Smut

Sol x GN!ReaderContent Warnings: Piercing kink (frenum), first time, Sol, praise, soft dom/sub energy, possessive undertones, oral (M receiving), heavy blushing, Sol, mutual yearning, mild teasing, general smuttiness

It's been a while.

You found a place for yourself in this Uni- Not among Crowe's group.

It's with these idiots.

Hyugo and Solivan Brugmansia...

Hyugo's your best friend....

Solivan....

He's your boyfriend! Soulmate!

You trusted him so much after that incident. He made sure, you're safe! You trust him, Oh! You trust him so blindly!

You trusted him so easily, as if his devotion was a promise that would never falter. His presence was comfort, his words gentle, but there was a weight in his gaze you never noticed, a possessive hunger masked by sweetness. Every smile you gave, every laugh you shared, only tightened the invisible chains around you, binding you to his obsession. He swore to protect you, to keep you safe, but you didn’t see the way his hands trembled with the secret he held—how his love, though tender, carried the shadow of something darker. And maybe that was his plan all along: to make you feel so cherished, so adored, that you’d never suspect the madness lurking beneath his every word.

He's a sweet sweet rotten saint soul! You trust him. You trust him so easily, so wholeheartedly, as if his quiet words and tender gestures could never harbor anything but sincerity!

You trusted him, Oh, you trusted him, And maybe that was his plan— To have you so wrapped up In his sweetness, In his tender words, That you'd never notice The madness wrapped behind them. He loves you so much. And you— You just think he’s being kind.

Now! You made desserts for your boyfriend, sadly Hyugo thought it was for him! You giggle at Sol's cuteness how he pouted.

Hyugo’s voice is all joy as he clutches the dessert you made like it’s a family heirloom. His teeth are already sinking into it before he finishes the sentence, glitter practically beaming from his eyes.

You laugh. “I’m glad you like them.”

“They’re perfect. Sol, do you want a piece? They're really good!" he gestures toward the plate, eyes wide with expectant brightness.

Sol’s voice answers before he even fully looks at you.

“Of course…”

It’s low, smoky, almost reverent. He speaks like a cathedral whispering back a prayer. Then his gaze flickers upward—those red-orange eyes glowing beneath his lashes, already flustered just from the attention.

“But…” he pauses. “Ain’t that the schoolteacher you’ve been lookin’ all over for?”

You frown. “Who—?”

Sol's lips curve—barely—and Hyugo whips around before you can fully process it.

“Really? Wher—?” ” Hyugo whips around with a mouth full of cream and sugar.

Gone.

Sol’s fingers slide over the edge of the plate, slipping the last of the dessert while Hyugo’s back is turned. He takes a bite. Then looks directly at you with a flush crawling high up his neck.

“It is good…” he murmurs, cheeks pink as spring petals. “But… you taste sweeter.”

Hyugo turns back too late. “You ass!” he laughs, mouth open in faux betrayal.

Your heart stutters. The words come out so softly, so poetically ruined by his shyness and confidence folded together like mismatched origami. He says everything like it’s secret and sacred.

You should leave it alone.

But you’re not going to.

Later, your fingers are tangled in the soft cotton of his black-and-green striped shirt, the smell of old books and clean soap and something uniquely him wrapping around you like fog.

You pull him closer—close enough to feel his breath catch.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you whisper, smiling against his jaw.

Sol stares down at you, flushed as ever. “Like what?” he says, voice barely holding itself together. “Like you're something I've spent my whole life dreaming up but only now dared to touch?”

You blink.

He bites his lip. “Too much?”

“No,” you say. “Not enough.”

He exhales, trembling. Then, hesitantly, he brings your hand to his chest.

“You make me feel like my ribs aren’t big enough to hold all the things I feel,” he says, breathless. “Like I’m gonna spill all over you if you stay near me too long.”

You kiss him.

He melts.

He’s trembling when you lift his shirt off, his chest kissed by shadows and silver—his nipple piercings catching the soft lamplight. His skin is warm, trembling under your touch. He always blushes when you stare too long, but he never looks away.

"You wanna stop?" you ask softly.

He shakes his head. “No. I wanna keep going.”

His pants come off slowly, reverently. And then—

You see it.

Nestled at the base of him, delicate and gleaming: the frenum piercing. A single bar of metal glinting like something sacred. His cock is flushed, hard, leaking slightly, twitching when he sees your eyes lock on it.

“You weren’t joking,” you murmur.

He swallows. “Was thinking about it for weeks... Did some research. Watched too many videos. Wanted to see if you’d… feel me differently.”

Your fingers trace up his shaft, slow and featherlight. He sucks in a breath when you brush over the piercing.

“You did this for me?” you ask.

He nods, cheeks darkening to crimson. “I wanted to be unforgettable.”

“You already were.”

Your hand wraps around him, stroking with delicate precision. Sol groans—quiet, desperate, his hips twitching into your palm. He’s leaking more now, eyes fluttering shut.

“Can I taste you?” you ask.

He whimpers. Nods.

You take your time.

Your lips kiss his inner thighs first—then the curve of his hip, the hollow where his body starts to tremble the most. His hands grip the pillow beneath his head like it’s the only thing anchoring him to earth.

Then your mouth is on him—your tongue tracing that silver bar, letting it drag across your tongue as you swallow him deeper. His hips buck.

“Oh f-fuck—” he gasps. “Y-you feel—You feel like—”

Like heaven. That’s probably what he meant to say. But Sol loses language in moments like these. Instead, he whines. Cries your name. Moans in breathless little sobs as you take him deeper, then back off—licking, teasing, letting that metal bar roll against your lips again and again.

He starts trembling—legs twitching, body arching.

“P-please,” he begs. “Please, I can’t—I’m gonna—”

You pull off, stroking him gently now.

“You can come,” you whisper. “Wanna see how pretty you look when you do.”

His hands clamp over his face. “You c-can’t say that—”

But it’s too late.

His body jolts—his back arches—his cock pulses hot and thick in your hand, twitching as you stroke him through it. His cum spills over your fingers, thick and messy, painting his stomach.

And Sol sobs your name into his palm like it’s the only thing he remembers.

Afterward, he clings to you like he’s starved for your presence. His cheeks are still pink. His arms wrap around your waist, keeping you locked in place like you might vanish if he even blinks too hard.

“I didn’t think I’d survive it,” he murmurs into your neck.

You run your fingers through his hair. “You liked it?”

He makes a sound—half whimper, half laugh. “I liked it too much.”

There’s a pause.

Then: “You’ll ride me next time, right?” he whispers, already breathless. “I want you to feel the piercing. I want— I want to hear what it does to you. I want to watch you fall apart on it.”

You bite your lip, pulse skipping. “Yeah?”

He nods into your shoulder. “I’ll blush the whole time. But I’ll survive it… for you.”

"Why not now Sol?"

"What?"

“I want you to kiss me.”

The words slip out of your mouth before you can fully process them, hanging in the air like a promise that’s been waiting for too long.

Sol’s eyes flicker. They’re bright, full of emotion, but also guarded—a beautiful storm. You see the hesitation, the vulnerability beneath his usual cool façade. The kind that only you seem to draw out of him.

His lips part, almost like he’s going to say something, but instead, he pulls you closer—slow, deliberate. His hands rest on your back, light, almost reverent, as though you’re something delicate he’s afraid to break.

And then, his lips meet yours.

It’s not rushed. There’s no frantic hunger in it, not yet. Instead, it’s soft, a slow and tender exploration of warmth and yearning. His lips press against yours with a quiet intensity that feels almost like a promise—like he's telling you everything he’s been hiding behind those shy smiles and hesitant glances.

He tastes like cinnamon and the sweetness of your shared dessert, his kiss a slow burn that builds with every soft touch. His hands trace the small of your back, his fingertips brushing over the curve of your spine as if memorizing the feel of you.

You let out a small breath, your own fingers threading through his hair, tugging him deeper. He responds instantly, pressing his body against yours, as though he can’t get close enough. Sol’s hands slip to your waist, his touch a little firmer, a little more desperate now, as though he’s afraid you might slip away.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re the one I can’t stop thinking about. I—I don’t want anyone else.”

He loves you..

It makes your heart race in your chest, a beat that matches the rapid thumping of his own heart as he deepens the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in slow, deliberate motions.

Your body responds instinctively, your hands roaming over the hard planes of his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch. His breath is shallow, his whole body trembling under the weight of the kiss.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes dark with a mix of awe and something far more primal. “You make me feel things I can’t explain,” he whispers, his voice shaking just a little. “I—I never thought someone could make me feel this way. You make me weak.”

“You’re not weak,” you say softly, tracing his jaw with your fingertips, smiling when he shivers at the touch. “You’re the strongest person I know.”

He blushes deeply, his head dropping just a little, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “I don’t deserve you,” he breathes. “But I need you.”

You lean in again, brushing your lips against his—soft, slow, like savoring the moment. His body leans into yours, his hands coming to cradle your face, holding you close, as though there’s nothing in the world but the two of you. His lips move with an aching tenderness against yours, as though he’s pouring everything he feels into this kiss.

“Don’t say that,” you murmur, pulling back to look at him, your fingers gently brushing the hair from his forehead. “You deserve every bit of this. You deserve to be loved like this.”

Oh you fool!

The words seem to settle around him like a warm blanket, and for a brief moment, his guarded expression softens completely. He closes his eyes, his face flushed, his lips parting slightly as if the warmth of your touch is all he needs.

Then, without warning, he pulls you back into a kiss—deeper this time, harder, as though he’s been holding back for far too long. His hands roam, tracing the contours of your body, and the kiss is everything—longing, need, affection, all tangled up together. You give yourself to it completely, letting the intensity of the moment sweep over you.

He pulls back, breathless. “I don’t know what I’m doing to you… but I need to feel you closer,” he admits, his voice rough with desire, but still carrying that poetic tenderness.

Your fingers slide down to his chest, feeling his heartbeat in the soft heat of his skin. You want him—now, more than ever. “Then make me yours,” you whisper, your lips brushing against his once more.

Sol’s eyes flicker, a slow smile curling at the corners of his lips, and before you can blink, he’s lifting you—gentle but firm—his chest pressed against yours, heart pounding, body shaking with anticipation.

“I’ll take my time with you,” he murmurs. “I’ll make you feel every inch of me. But you need to know—when I kiss you, you’re mine. When I touch you, you’re mine.”

His hands trail down your sides, soft and exploratory, making you gasp every time he finds a sensitive spot, every time his fingertips graze the edges of your skin.

His lips move to your neck, kissing the soft skin just below your ear, and you can feel him smiling against you, his breath hot and steady as he whispers against your skin, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted… everything I never thought I could have. You make me feel—” he pauses, his lips trailing lower, “—like I’m home.”

Why is..Sol so possessive?

Why..?

Wait, It doesn't matter-

You don’t ask how you ended up on his lap. You don’t need to.

Sol's fingers trail reverently up your back, ghosting over fabric like he’s scared to touch skin too soon, as if you might vanish before him. He looks like a fever dream—shirt unbuttoned at the top, collarbones adorned with silver chains and the faintest mark you’d swear wasn’t there yesterday. Maybe it was. Maybe he wanted you to notice.

“I’ve thought about this,” he whispers, forehead resting on your shoulder, “so many times I’m not sure what’s memory and what’s fantasy anymore.”

Your fingers toy with the silver around his neck, gently tugging. “What part, Sol? Kissing me like this?"

“Yes. And—" He swallows. “Everything after.”

You tilt his chin. He blushes again. It’s violent this time. His cheeks are lit like fire—contrast against the dark room, against the green in his hair, against the faint, nervous tremble in his fingers.

“You’re so red, Sol.”

“I always get like this… when something I want becomes real.”

"Sheesh! Solivan, We just met 2 months at our art class..Hehe....You're cute.."

If only you knew, He knew you before

You kiss him before he can say more—soft, slow, and unhurried. He moans so quietly it’s almost a hum, his hands flying to your waist as though they belong there.

You move together gently at first—layers shedding like old poetry, piece by piece, until he’s bare beneath you. Beautiful. Huggable. Laced in silver and trembles.

You press your palm flat against his stomach. “I’m thinking about it right now.”

He looks like he might combust. And then—

“Use me,” he whispers. “I— I don’t care how slow or rough— just let me give this to you.”

You kiss him again, and then guide him inside.

He cries out—quiet and broken—when you sink down fully.

You feel everything. Not just the stretch of him, but the press of metal. The sharp contrast of temperature, the way it catches perfectly against your inner walls like a secret only the two of you get to share.

“God,” you whisper, “I feel it—”

His hands fly to your thighs, gripping tight. His eyes roll back, and for a terrifying second, he stops breathing.

“You okay?”

“Perfect,” he gasps. “Perfect—oh my god, you— you’re perfect—”

Each roll of your hips sends another jolt through him. His head tilts back, hair falling like ink across the pillow, the light catching the glint of metal on his lip, his ears, and now—there.

You take your time. Let him feel every inch. Let him blush and sob your name, the sound soft like a hymn being offered to a god he doesn’t believe in—only you.

His voice is breathy. Poetic. Delirious.

“Your name tastes better than every poem I’ve swallowed... And you— you feel like fire wrapped in silk. I can’t—I can’t last—”

You grind your hips, and his moan breaks off into something desperate.

“You’re allowed to finish, Sol,” you murmur. “You’ve been so good for me.”

That’s what does it.

His body arches, and he clings to you as if drowning, crying out your name like a prayer. His release is overwhelming—hot, thick, filling—and the pulse of it makes you shake.

You ride the waves together, tangled in breath and silver and sweat.

Later, when your breathing slows and you’re here, you glance at him again.

He’s watching you. Still flushed. Still blushing.

“Did it feel good?” he asks shyly.

You kiss his temple. “It felt perfect.”

Sol hums, eyes fluttering shut.

You raise a brow. “What if I change my mind?”

He turns, one arm wrapping around you, his voice low and possessive:

"...I won't let you."