#he'd look gorgeous with gold...

[magnuficentwo]

What kind of Jewelry would Archer like.. Do you think he'd wanna try any

Oiuuhhg very good question actually... I think Archer's for too repressed to actually get any jewelry in fear it makes him effeminate, the most he usually wears is a watch or a ring or (pushing it, because he tends to prefer ties) maybe a cool necklace, but ☝️ I know for a fact that as a kid he wanted to get his ears pierced so he could use pretty earrings :] his favorite would be the kind with little gems and stuff... would absolutely love to wear diamonds :] It would be way easier if Archer wasn't. Like. Transphobic pretty much only to herself

[bbokicidal]

[REUPLOAD] skz + head [giving + receiving]

warnings : oral, obviously.

notes : if they prefer receiving or giving head, how they do it, etc!! a reupload from my old blog !!

chris : prefers giving

eats that pussy like it's his last fucking meal. gently, of course. but he's 100% going to be fucking his tongue into you until you're almost crying. it'll be the most blissful thing you've ever felt - and part of you prefers his mouth to his cock just because of how much passion he puts into it. of course, sex in general is great with him. he's just the type to put his full attention into making you feel good when he's got your hips pinned against the bed and his head is stuffed between your legs.

loves it when you suck his cock. his favorite place to have you do it is the studio, because he knows if he asks nicely you'll come running to him after a long day of working and you'll sit right under the desk while he works. it eases him, relaxes him some. he still may not sleep a whole lot those nights but he's feeling a lot better by the next day - especially if you wake him up with some banger head, too. (also the type to hold the back of your head and force your nose to his pelvis a few times just to feel your throat oops.)

minho : prefers receiving

he definitely likes eating you out. he's the type to like, sit up on his knees and drag your lower half up with him though, your shoulders pushed into the bed and neck cramping. the pain mixed with the pleasure from his tongue is perfect, either way. he loves seeing you unable to squirm, dark eyes staring down at you, lidded and warm with lust as you make a mess of his mouth.

he loooooves when you give him head though. give him head? let him use your head. he'll let you start off at your own pace while he sits on the couch and scrolls on his phone, one hand keeping your hair out of your face so you're comfortable. but it always, always ends with him fucking into your mouth and throat and holding your head with both hands to keep you still. he thrives off the wet noises that come from you.

changbin : prefers receiving

will absolutely wake you up by eating you out - with your explicit consent prior, of course. he adores waking up early mornings and seeing you all curled up and squirming because of a dream about him. he loves rolling you onto your back and letting you wake up to see him under the blankets, hands splayed over the soft warmth of your sides before one trails down to let his thumb brush over your clit. he's so gentle when he eats you out - he's there to worship, baby.

will melt when you give him head. will literally pool in his studio chair when you sit on the coffee table and lean in to take him in your mouth. his head'll drop back, he'll let his hands grip at the arms of the chair. he'll refuse to touch you because he knows you'll ruin him the way you want on your own. it's gold to see, truly. his ears getting all pink. ugh. he's a sucker for your mouth.

i'm also a firm believer that binnie shoots fucking ropes, so take that as you will. (will fill your throat with cum, absolutely.)

hyunjin : prefers giving

he thinks you're like the most beautiful piece of art on earth. you're so gorgeous when you're squirming and writhing on the dressing room couch, hips perched up on the arm of the sofa while he kneels nearby and buries his face in your pussy. he's weak for you, absolutely - so desperately weak. he loves hearing your sounds for him. he loves the idea of the others hearing you from the locked dressing room - he loves the idea of someone walking in and joining. yeah, he just wants them to see how he gets you whining.

not a huge fan of receiving head just because he'd much, much rather be eating you out instead. he thinks you're too pretty to be on your knees, but when you are you can bet he will absolutely be looking down at you with his hair falling over his eyes and sticking to his face. motherfucker is gonna be dripping sweat just from the way you make him feel.

jisung : prefers giving

lazy eater. not bad, by any means - just lazy. he likes to lay between your legs while the two of you are lounging watching a movie (probably HMC.) and just casually eat you out. you won't be squirming or whining or gasping for breath - you'll just be smiling, moaning here and there and combing your hand through his hair while his tongue slips over your folds just the way you like. he'll let his thumbs massage over your clit as his hands rest on your hips, breathing heavy and big eyes focused on the television. he just likes doing it so casually, but there's always a massive wet spot on the sofa after because he'll sit there for hours just doing it and letting spit drop.

another one who doesn't really like making you get on your knees for him - but the occasional blowjob won't upset him. he likes when you have him squirming in bed, holding his thighs open so he doesn't close them on your shoulders or choke you out - not that you'd complain about dying there. he's the type to get reaaaal loud and whimpery.

felix : prefers giving

messy, messy boy. i have a feeling he's the type to spit on your pussy and then lick it up or push it into you with his tongue, and he's the type to get you to squirt. he will not stop until you're making an absolute mess of your bedsheets, but he will of course take care of it all after and make sure you're comfortable immediately. he's the type to leave bruises on your hips from his rings digging in.

likes head every so often - another one, i know i know, who doesn't prefer it but doesn't mind. he's pretty casual about it, rocking his hips into your mouth and breathing hard when you take him into your throat. he likes to cum on your face, rather than in your mouth - because again, he likes the mess, and likes the image of you with his cum just painting your pink cheeks and puffy lips.

seungmin : prefers receiving

another one who just eats that pussy like it's his last meal. he prefers you giving him head instead but he's going to make this shit good, holding you down and sucking on your clit until you're actually crying. he's a bit mean in bed, slapping your ass and maybe even spanking your pussy when you get too wiggly on the bed.

is all too casual, sort of like minho. he'll sit there and just comb your hair back, let you lay on the sofa with your feet kicking while you keep him in your mouth. you're comfortable, he's comfortable - he's also taking a few short videos to send to the groupchat so the others know why he's a little late to practice. you're his main priority and he prefers being with you anyways. but yes, he's definitely got at least 30 different videos in an album of you sucking his cock in multiple locations.

jeongin : prefers giving

mo. ther. fucker. the ONLY one out of the boys to use his fingers when he eats you out - deserves to be in the hall of fame. have you seen his hands?? (guilty, oops.) he will absolutely be pushing two fingers into your cunt while he eats you out, sucking and nibbling and licking long stripes over your slit and clit until you're whining loud. he'll only eat you out in his bedroom - because he loves rubbing it in his hyung's faces that he can make you feel this way.

will only let you give him head IF you're in the car. roadhead. he figured out he reaaaaally liked it after you offered it up once when he got his license. he absolutely said yes, and at first was a bit shaky but now he's a pro at keeping a straight face. one hand'll be holding your hair back while the other grips at the wheel tight, white-knuckled and chewing on the inside of his lip as he drives. if you ask really nicely, he'll even let you do it while seungmin is in the backseat.

Taglist :  @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @vanillacupcakefrosting

[mickandmusings]

third times the charm

pairing: tyler owens x f!reader

word count: 3.8k

summary: life has a funny way of putting people in your path, and ultimately making them part of your life. but what happens when the one person you never want to see stumbles in over and over again, a disastrous tornado tearing up your path of moving on?

aka: the two times tyler owens enters and, consequently, leaves, your life at the wrong time, and the one time he comes at the perfect moment and finally stays.

warnings: reader is described in a feminine manner; why are we ignoring his bull rider trope? cause i'm not babes xx; angsty mainly, but fluff too; lovers to enemies back to lovers (sorry); this author knows nothing about tornadoes or weather so sorry

shoutout to megan moroney and her banger new album where this title and idea come from :)

-

i.

"What do you mean you're leaving?!"

Tyler shuts the tailgate of his red pick-up with a loud slam, the cowboy hat on his head nearly flying off with the force. Y/N stood just a few feet away, her arms crossed over her torso as her chest heaved in short, shaking breaths. The sunlight hits her just right, and the gold chain around her neck glimmers in the sunlight. It catches Tyler's attention from the corner of his eye-it had been burned into his mind from the moment he'd bought it with a chunk of his earnings from last year's rodeo. The chain was delicate, simple, but the charm had been the main appeal: it was gold, the same shade as the chain, but in the center of the small heart shaped pendant sat a capital 'T'. She'd worn it since he'd given it to her for a birthday present, and it had been the center piece of even their most intimate moments-her bare beneath him with only the glittering jewelry adorning her as he had her unraveling under his touch. Even the thought of it had heat traveling up Tyler's neck, and he swallowed down the feeling, along with all of the guilt bubbling to the surface.

"I'm leavin', simple as that."

"Ty, I-I don't understand. You get bucked off one time and you're giving up?! You've been riding since we were kids, I-"

He turns to her, emerald eyes blazing with an emotion he couldn't put a label on.

"I didn't just get 'bucked off', I almost got my head trampled in case you forgot!" His voice is laced with anger. He's not angry with her, he's angry with himself. After a series of unfortunate injuries in last month's local rodeo, Tyler knew he couldn't ride again, it would kill him. He'd spent the last few weeks in physical therapy and doctor's offices just to make sure the damn bull hadn't left behind more than scars.

It was better this way, he could leave his town behind, and forget about the deep, gut-twisting feeling of failure that sat like acid in his stomach. But leaving his hometown also meant leaving her.

Tyler had fallen for Y/N their junior year of high school, and they'd rarely been seen without one another ever since then. She was sweet and shy to his brash and confident, his biggest supporter-always sitting in the stands for all of his rides-whether he was the talk of the town or stumbling home, his shotgun rider, and the girl who wore his heart (literally and figuratively) on a chain around her neck. Looking at her now, with tears lining under her gorgeous eyes, he wanted to just forget all of his plans and pull her into his arms. He wanted to reassure her that he'd stay here, that he'd give her the life that he'd promised her-apple pie and babies, the perfect picket-fence life she deserved.

"Tyler, you-you can't be serious! W-What about your parents, your plans, hell, Tyler, what about me?!" Her shoulders now moved as she let out shuddering breaths, eyebrows furrowed as she grew frustrated. "Tyler Owens you promised me, you promised me a farmhouse, and a wrap-around porch, a-and babies! And now you're just gonna take off to God-knows-where to what? Storm chase?"

She stops and lets out a dry chuckle. She'd been 'chasing' with him before, vivid memories of him scaring her shitless chasing tornadoes in his truck, only to 'apologize' to her by making love in the backseat after the storm had passed. Through their time together, she, too, had grown to love the storms. Y/N took her camera into the storms with them, more than ready to capture the freakishly beautiful moments of pure disaster before it struck. She'd stand in the pouring rain next to him, laughing as wind whipped hair around her face. He'd snap a picture of her with her own camera that she'd set aside and she'd roll her eyes. They'd been happy, bonded by a mutual love of mother nature's chaos and one another. Now, she turns her back to face him, shaking her head as her bottom lip trembles.

"Ya know, I should've listened to everyone who told me to stay away from you in high school, that you'd just hurt me. I didn't believe them, not one bit, because I know you. You're running because you're scared. You don't have to run, Ty. You've never run from your fears, for God's sake you ride them! What the hell are you thinking?!"

Tears stream down her face, and Tyler feels his resolve slipping. He hadn't thought it through, not really, and now as she stands in front of him, he realizes he's only hurting her more and more. He needed an out, he needed to skip town, no matter who it hurt.

"I'm thinking that I'm a fuckin' failure at everything, no matter what I try! The only thing I'm good at is storms, chasin' them, getting close enough to see something! I fail at everything, Y/N/N, and if I stay, I'll just fail you, too. Over and over."

"Tyler, you've never failed me," she brings her hands to either side of his face, her thumb brushing a cut that still hadn't scarred over from his fall. Her eyes were blurry and her hands trembled. "Please, stay." Her voice was hardly a whisper, pleading desperately.

"You know I can't."

She nodded solemnly, wiping tears so she could take a final look into his eyes. She gave no warning when she launched her arms around his neck, all but hanging onto him like a child. He hugged her tighter than he ever had, and when she let go, he placed a final heated goodbye kiss on her lips. Y/N looks at him, her brain screaming pleas to make him stay, but she simply kisses his cheek before speaking.

"C-call me when you get there?"

He takes one last glance at her, taking her in completely, as if trying to memorize her. His eyes land on the jewelry adorning the spot just below her collarbone, the gold shining in the sunset, knowing he'd never see it on her again-if he ever even saw her again.

"You'll be the first person I call, baby."

Y/N's call never came.

She spent the summer miserable, but refused to take off the gold chain she hid under shirts. It burned her skin in a metaphorical sense, but she ignored it, just like the heartbreak that had festered into deep resentment for Tyler Owens. She'd decided to take off to the local university for a clean start, somewhere new, somewhere his ghost wouldn't haunt her. Things had begun to look up, and she found herself smiling again. The morning before her first day of classes, she almost took the chain off, but couldn't bring herself to do so.

When she spotted his tall figure sitting a row ahead of her in her Intro to Meteorology class, she pretended not to know who he was. It was only fair, he'd done the same to her. For a reason that neither of them could vocalize, they begin to hate one another. Without knowing it, Tyler had become the storm that had sparked her into chasing after danger forever, the one that had left destruction so fatal she wasn't sure if she'd ever recover.

-

ii.

"You've got to be kidding me."

Y/N rolls her eyes and nearly throws her laptop across her dorm room when she looks down at her field partner pairing. The name in bold stares back at her like some sick joke.

Tyler Owens.

She shuts her laptop with a force that could shatter glass and slams her face into her pillow to let out a scream that could have easily been heard four counties over. The universe had to hate her.

With one glance at her watch, she hops from her bed and packs her duffel, her camera slung around her other shoulder. After silently praying that this storm takes her away in one quick swoop, she opens the door to her room and stumbles down the stairs to the lobby, where he was waiting for her outside the double doors. She can already feel her skin flaming with anger when she catches sight of his towering frame, baseball cap thrown backwards over his head.

"'Bout fuckin' time sweetheart, thought the storm would pass before we even got out there!"

"Oh, kiss my ass, Owens."

She rolls her eyes and climbs into the red truck she had once been a permanent fixture in, feeling almost like nothing had changed since the last time she'd crawled into the passenger side. She had half a mind to let down the driver's side visor to see if her picture still sat inside it, but Tyler climbs in the second she thinks about it. The half hour drive is uncomfortable, silent, and laced with tension so thick both halves of the couple begin to wonder if the air supply is getting thin. But as the storm approaches, both of their eyes are locked on the massive twisting figure just ahead of them. Y/N reaches for her camera, focusing the lens as best as she can through the windshield of the truck. She sighs when the view is less than satisfactory. Without much thought, she begins to move the window crank on the door to let down the window.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Tyler's voice breaks their silence.

"What does it look like, Owens? Getting a better shot." Her body hangs halfway out the window, camera leaning out the window as she moves the lens and clicks.

"Get your ass in the truck, I'm not payin' your hospital bills when you fall out and I run over you."

She rolls her eyes and ignores him, almost her entire body hanging out the window.

"Okay, okay, get in the truck, I'll get you closer, Jesus."

She pulls herself back into the truck and rolls the window back up as Tyler moves forward down the muddy path, closer to the storm now building ahead. The wind and rain grow more intense, shaking even the bulky vehicle that could easily withstand even the most treacherous of conditions. The spiraling tunnel only moves at a more pummeling speed, and Y/N's sharp shout fills the air.

"Stop the truck!"

He hits the brake and before the truck even stops, Y/N's rolling out of the passenger side, camera raised as she captures a monster of a storm. Tyler finds himself silent, momentarily distracted-her hair blowing with the force of the wind, the smile drawn across her face, and the long sleeve button down she'd been wearing was slipping down her shoulders, exposing her tank top and-wait-he raises an eyebrow, his heart stopping. Against her neck sat a gold chain he knew too well. It stops him completely in his tracks, shocked that she still wore his initial around her neck. The sound of a roaring train pulls him from his thoughts and sends him leaning out his own door.

"Y/N," he's shouting over the loud winds. "GET YOUR ASS IN THE TRUCK!"

The barrel of wind only gets closer, the fierceness of wind making Tyler's heart race. The girl outside his truck, however, only smiles wider, raising her camera for another shot of the approaching storm.

"I'M FINE, TYLER. WIND'S NOT EVEN THAT BAD!"

Tyler huffs as his voice, raspy from yelling, shouts again.

"THAT WASN'T A REQUEST, SWEETHEART. GET YOUR ASS IN THIS TRUCK!"

She ignores his shouts, only squinting her eyes at the horizon as the wind picks up another notch, making the shirt now halfway down on her arms blow like a flag in the wind. Tyler gives her a minute to comply, hoping this was just a momentary phase of her being stubborn. After five minutes, Tyler cursed and stomped out of the truck over to her. He says nothing, picking her up over his shoulder.

"TYLER! WHAT THE FUCK?! PUT ME DOWN, ASSHOLE!"

He doesn't give in to her retorts, simply swinging her door open and shoving her into the passenger seat. He gets into his driver's side and slings his arm on her headrest, turning to back the truck around.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! Do you have some sort of sick kink where you get off on ruining my life? I had a perfect shot, it-"

"You had a perfect shot of getting sucked into a tornado is what you had, Y/N. You're gonna get yourself killed gettin' that fuckin' close!"

"Like you would care." Her voice isn't even a mumble, and Tyler hardly hears her over the sounds of the storm.

It sends a jab of pain through his heart he doesn't expect, and instead of saying anything, he lets her stew in anger in his passenger seat. When he drops her off at her dorm, she agrees to email him her half of the project, and a week later he receives it.

He opens the email to find exactly what he imagines, the most spectacular shots of a storm he's ever seen. After the report and photos are submitted, the two never speak to one another again. They both graduate under the same Arkansas sun, but lead different lives in the same area of the country. Y/N swears she sees his truck pass her every time she goes out to shoot, and he sees her in every girl that stands in a field with a camera.

Y/N would never admit that she has a burner account subscribed to his livestreams, or that she laughed and smiled as she watched him hoop and holler with his ragtag group of friends, memories of the chases they once went on filling her mind more fondly than painfully these days. And if she had one of the red and white shirts with his stupid cartoon face plastered against it, well, no one would ever know.

When Boone and the rest of his crew would stop for food and rest breaks, if Tyler saw her name plastered in a newspaper or magazine, he'd put it on the counter next to his plethora of snacks. He'd never admit he'd cut her articles out of them and kept them in a small scrapbook that lived in his glovebox, right next to the picture of her that once lived in his visor-only because a magazine cut-out clip of her lived there now, her smiling with a massive twin barrel storm behind her, the gold chain peeking from the shirt was wearing.

-

iii.

"Ty, man, this one's a beaut! She's unreal!"

Boone's voice filled Tyler's ears from the passenger seat, but as Tyler looked out at the horizon, his attention was far from the brunette that sat next to him. He saw her car before he saw her-the same rink-dink, decked out, black Subaru she'd had in college, meaning she was here on her own, not for business.

His green eyes darted to the field across from where it was parked, spotting her instantly as she stood in the tall grass, hair blowing as she brought her camera to her face, crouching down to get the perfect shot. She shook her head when she pulled back from it, enjoying the sight in front of her.

Tyler puts the truck in park and all but barrels out of the door, his boots taking him towards her, but not nearly fast enough.

"Jesus, who's that? And why's she got Ty all in a tizzy?" Boone leans over to Lilly, who gives him an incredulous look.

"That's Y/N Y/L/N, she's a storm photographer, apparently he's got some fan girl crush on her or somethin', he keeps her work in a binder."

"Holy shit! Tyler knows the Y/N Y/L/N?"

Tyler would've blushed and denied Lilly's statement vehemently, but he was too far away to hear. Instead, the whipping winds and the sound of Y/N's delightful laughter filled his ears.

"She's a beaut, huh?" Tyler's voice carries over the noise, falling on Y/N's ears. She takes a breath and turns to face him for the first time in years. She nods slowly.

"Yeah, she's gorgeous. Got some great shots."

Her throat feels dry as his eyes peer down at her. She finally braves a look up at him.

"Um, I'm not studying it or anything, just bored, really. I'll let you and your crew have her."

She gives him a small smile, but he notes it's genuine as she caps the lens on her camera.

"It was good to see you, Ty. Good luck."

"Y/N, wait. I-I need to ask you somethin'."

She pauses her steps, turning back to face the man in front of her. For a split second, he looks just like the younger version that had left her all those years ago-the hat, the belt buckle, but none of that same all consuming fear.

"Sure, go ahead."

"Why do you still wear it? I saw you, that time in college, and when you did that shoot outside of Kansas City, the picture they published of you, it-you can see it real clear."

Y/N stills, pushing back hair that's blowing in the wind as she looks at him. She could say a multitude of things-how she wore it because she'd gotten so used to always wearing it. That she wore it because she wanted to hold onto him the only way she could. She could lie and say that she used it as a good luck charm. None of them would be the truth, and she was sick of lying to him, so she simply told the truth.

"Well, all the best chasers, they carry their first storm with them, right?"

She pauses, realizing how vague that was.

"What I mean is, without you taking me through my first storm I never would've done this. I was terrified of them, and you and that stupid red truck of yours showed me how beautiful they can be, and now I capture their beauty for a living. I never would've had any of this without you, so-"

She shrugs, giving him a small chuckle. The silence suffocates as he looks at her.

"Tyler listen-"

"If you're gonna apologize, don't. I'm the one that should apologize, I left you all those years ago. That was real shitty of me, and I didn't give you a warnin' or a reason why. So, I'm sorry, for all of it."

She nods, giving him a smile. The quiet floods between them again, and she pushes back her hair again before she speaks.

"I-I watch your videos, y-your livestreams. You're still crazy, but it reminds me of when we used to chase, and you'd scare me to death, and then you'd, uh, 'apologize' for it and, sometimes it's like I'm there with you."

He laughs with her.

"I-I've got every newspaper and magazine clippin' you've ever been in. You're pictures they're-breathtakin', it feels like you're standin' in the field right there next to you. I guess that's just because I used to be and memories, ya know?"

She nodded, giving him a sweet smile, one that sends his heart racing. They both turn their attention to the horizon where the storm seems relatively calm, at least by their standards.

"Uh, Y/N? I'm sorry, I promised you somethin' all those years ago, and I never made good on it. I think about that a lot, and-just-I'm sorry."

"I forgave you a long time ago, Ty, we were kids." She pauses, tilting her head as she looks at the storm brewing. "Besides, I don't think I'm cut out for that life anymore, I like life on the road. I mean, where else do you get moments like this? The storms back home are wonders, but nothing like this."

"I agree with you there," he chuckles. His heart pounds, and the words slip out of his mouth before he can stop them. "I miss you though."

She cuts her eyes to his own, as if waiting for him to explain himself.

"You were my original chasin' partner, ya know? Plus, when things got scary, you never flinched, not really. This reporter I've got now? God help us all, can't stand much more than a strong wind."

Y/N laughs loudly before she shakes her head.

"Well, you might be in luck. I hate working for that magazine, I really, really do." She turns to face him, camera pulled close to her chest. "The Tornado Wranglers hiring? I'm looking for a job. I have a portfolio if you need it, references too."

Her statement is laced with sarcasm.

Tyler finds himself laughing now, a wide smile plastered across his face.

"I'm familiar with your work, have it on good graces that you're just what we're lookin' for. Lucky for you, we've always got room for one more, that is, if you'll have us. I gotta warn you, those over there are a handful."

"If they're anything like you, I'm likely to fall in love with them instantly."

Y/N doesn't register the words stumbling out of her mouth until they'd already filled the air between them. Without a word, Tyler grabs her hand, pulling her in closer than people who have a history like theirs should. His calloused fingers reach out to the gold pendant lying on her neck, moving it back and forth between its fingers. It had withstood their time apart-it was scratched and a little weather-worn, but, then again, so were they.

"The clasp broke about a year ago, the rest is all original. Pure gold, willing to sell it for a good offer. The guy at the pawn tried to undersell me, I know what I've got."

Tyler's chest warms, that sarcastic, witty humor he'd missed back in full force.

"Do you take alternate forms of payment?" He pulls her in by her waist with a cocky grin.

"Depends, Owens, what did you have in mind?"

He cocks his eyebrow, giving her a sort of contemplative look as his hands rest on the small of her back, hers around his neck.

"Well, I still owe you about-," He lifts his hand from around her and pretends to count on his fingers. "A billion apologies, we could chase this stunner of a storm, drop these characters back off at the motel, find us an empty field, and I could apologize like I used to...maybe?"

She shakes her head and pulls him in for a heated kiss. They're both smiling so hard its hardly a kiss, but the feelings are there.

"You've got yourself a deal, but I'm keeping the necklace."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, baby." He kisses her head, pulling her back towards his group of friends, who were now whistling at the pair, obviously catching the interaction. "Fair warning, after he finds out just who you are, Boone's likely to fall in love with you."

She raises her eyebrow, pulling away and heading towards the motley crew ahead of her.

"Guess you'll just have to chase me next."

-

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

[keirareidss]

tight skirts and nerdy glasses - s.r

♡ summary: spencer gets flustered when you wear a short skirt to work pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader warnings: 18+, MDNI, smut wc: 1.3k inspo

Spencer glanced at his phone again. Read 20 minutes ago. You'd been texting earlier, him telling you about the toast he made this morning, and you letting him know you were going to be a bit late to work because of your doctor's appointment. His last message to you read, 'how's everything at the doctors office?'

You read the message but never responded. Maybe your name was called. Maybe you got some really bad news and couldn't handle talking to anyone right now. Maybe-

The door to the BAU office opened, heels thumping quietly on the carpet floor, Spencer's head lifting to follow the sound. His eyes caught on your figure, watching as you strutted towards your desk, sending a dazzling smile at Derek.

"Hey, gorgeous." Morgan's chair spun slowly as he turned to follow you with his full body. Spencer understood the feeling. The magnetic pull of you, his body being tugged in your direction.

"Morgan." You drawled in greeting, reaching your desk where you set down your purse, turning your attention to the dorky man across from you. "Hi, Spencer."

"Hi." He said, his throat dry. "You didn't answer my text." He was deliberately keeping his eyes on yours, forcing them not to drag down to the short skirt clinging to your legs. The hem barely kissed mid thigh, surely not appropriate for work but you were on good terms with Hotch so he'd let it slide.

Spencer had noticed the skirt right when you walked in. The sway of your hips distracted him from the cute pink and black pattern, his eyes widening. He barely pulled his eyes away from your ass when you reached your desk, not confident that you hadn't seen him ogling.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you know what happened? I responded in my head and I forgot to actually text you back." You explained, chuckling as you tuck your purse under your desk. His eyebrows furrowed, confused.

"Oh." He said dumbly.

"Do you want a coffee? I'm gonna run to the kitchen." You asked, hesitating by your desk.

"No, I'm good." He responds, unable to help the way his eyes follow your ass. He tries not to stare, he really does, but he can't help but be bewitched by the way your skirt rides up the back of your thighs as you walk.

He forces his eyes back to the file on his desk but, out of the corner of his eye, he notices your figure bending down at the waist, picking up one of the stir sticks you dropped on the floor. He turns his head, his breath hitching as he caught a glimpse of your underwear under the skirt.

He quickly averts his eyes, a blush rising on his cheeks. He kept his eyes down as you sat back down with your coffee, sighing softly as you turned on your computer, heading to your email folder. Spencer didn't have to worry about accidentally mindlessly gazing at you, burying himself in his work.

The next incident is when you bump into Penelope as she hurries her way up to Hotch's office. She drops her pen which you bend down to pick up. Spencer's eyes find their way to you once again, burning into you. You hand Garcia her sparkly pen with the fuzzy top back to her, your head turning to find Spencer's stare.

You grin at him and he looks away, blushing as he adjusted his glasses. If there was one thing Spencer wore that you were absolutely obsessed with, it was his nerdy, black and gold glasses. They made him look so cute and innocent. They made you want to get on your knees and suck his cock until the glass fogged up.

You round his desk, leaning back against his and looking down at him. His eyes flicker to your thighs before he glanced up at you.

"Hi, Spence." You smiled, bracing your hands on the edge of his desk.

"Hi."

"Can I show you something?" You asked,

"What is it?" He tilted his head, the gold of his frames glinting in the light.

"Just come with me." You pulled him to his feet, starting to walk away. He doesn't follow right away frozen in his spot by the sight of your skirt, high on your thighs. He blinks quickly, rushing after you, following you out of the bullpen.

You lead him to a dark storage closet down the hall, following him inside. He turns to face you, his eyebrows furrowed.

"What did you want to show me?" You stepped forward, chest to chest with him in the small space, standing up on your tip toes, your lips inches from his.

"I've seen you staring, Spencer." You purred and his eyes widened, cheeks flushing a pretty pink to match your skirt. "Is there something about my skirt that's enticing to you?"

"No! No, I mean, well- yes but, it's just-" You chuckled, your hands sliding down his chest, feeling the soft of his sweater vest under your palms.

"Or is it something other than my skirt?" His face got redder as his back met the wall. Your fingers untucked his shirt from his slacks, finding his belt buckle. His breath hitches as he watches your movements. "Do you want this?" You asked looking up at him. He nodded frantically.

"Yes- please, please." Grinning, you sank down onto your knees in front of him, pulling his zipper down. His head falls back against the wall with a thump when your hand palms him through his boxers.

You free his hardening cock from his pants, stroking slowly and watching a bead of precum dribble from the tip. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, taking him into your mouth, feeling him heavy on your tongue. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, breathing deeply through your nose.

"God- you, you're so..." Spencer whimpers his hand gripping your hair as you bob your head. You swirl your tongue around the tip and he twitches in your mouth.

A trail of spit follows, clinging to your bottom lip as you pull back, looking at him. You were a sight for sore eyes, skirt bunched up your thighs as you sat on your knees, your hair tousled from Spencer's grip. You were his wet dream come to life. Well, it's more the other way around. His wet dreams were inspired by you, made of you.

His wide eyes stared down at you from behind his glasses as your hand continued to lazily stroke his length, his small whimpers music to your ears.

"I'm close." He warned you, moaning quietly.

"Do you want to cum in my mouth, Spencer?" He swore he stopped breathing when that sentence came out of your pretty pink lips. He could barely make his brain work enough to form a response.

"Y-yeah." You grinned, taking him past your lips again, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked. With a few more bobs of your head, drags of your tongue, and twists of your wrist on the base of his dick, he's coming down your throat, his hot release coating the inside of your mouth, dribbling down your lip.

He moans, cursing under his breath as his hips jerk, his eyes squeezing shut. Once you've pulled every last drop from him you sit back, climbing to your feet. You brush off your skirt as Spencer does up his pants.

"You, uh- you look really pretty in that skirt."

"Oh, honey, I know." You pat his chest, walking out of the storage closet, leaving him leaning against the wall, chest heaving deeply as he stared at the sway of your hips in that skirt. That damn skirt.

Taglist: @superbeaglewitch, @perfectgoopfishuniversity-blog, totallynotabuckybarnessimp, @dramioneforevertilltheend. @cynbx, @diminombre, @tinythebunni

[lilacgaby]

title: awaken.

pairing: barbarian!bakugo x goddess!reader,

synopsisꨄ. you've been asleep all this time, who knew a barbarian would be the one to awaken you?

(extended ver of this)

as katsuki wandered through the never ending forest, he let the words of the elders ring through his head. "you'll never be anything more than a placeholder for the next king."

he set off, destined to prove himself, show that he was worth more than any of them could predict. his father was worried and heartbroken at his sudden departure, but his mother understood that he'd need to do this now, or he'd never forgive himself.

the first thing he did as he set off was to secure food for the night. he eyed a group of hogs, all large and heavy, perfect for feeding him throughout the night. he grabbed the bow out of his satchel and aimed it at the largest one, which landed perfectly in his target's head. he couldn't help but to let out a celebratory laugh as it fell to the ground, making the hogs around it scurry off into the forest.

that seemed to be the last of his luck for the day. he now wished he chose a different day to set off, as the rains and winds were heavy, it was impossible to set up camp in the forest as it was. suddenly, through the curtains of heavy greenery, he saw an abandoned structure. he'd prefer anything to the harsh conditions mother nature set out on him now, so he cut through the vines as he made his way into the structure.

it was grand inside, he thought. he couldn't see very well thanks to the darkness brought on by the rains, but from what he could see it must have been a place of high regard in its peak.

he lit a torch, carrying it as he continued on into the structure. he determined it had been a church in its old days, long forgotten due to.. well he didn't figure that part out yet.

he bumped into a object that resembled a bench, besides the old candle wax, fresh leaves, and golden statutes he saw littering it. he made a mental note to take those with him as he organized his things onto the bench.

he laid his wine down first, a treat he'd enjoy on the way back to his kingdom. next, he laid down his clothes he planned to change into. though he was a barbarian, and by nature they did not wear many clothes, katsuki knew the trip would require such clothing, so he brought the best.

his next item was the huge hog he'd caught earlier. he lugged it on to the bench-like object, thinking of how it was a perfect spot to gut and prepare it for his meal later on. speaking of his cooking, he made sure to bring only the finest oils to cook in. he set it down next to the hog, satisfied with his array of items, he'd slumped against the bench, closed his eyes and sighed.

when he opened it again, he saw the shadow of a person moving behind him. alarmed, he readied his other weapon he always kept on his side, his blade welded by his mother.

though, his blade was dropped out of his hand at the sight. his jaw went slack, eyes wide, and the sudden urge to worship overcame him as he finally saw who was behind him.

a gorgeous.. deity? who glowed with an luminous essence, who adorned pointed ears, heavy amounts of gold, a silk dress that encapsulated your body, and an unreadable expression as you sifted through his items.

the ability to speak was taken from him, he felt as if he was at your mercy, and he was. he was on his knees before he could process it.

your hands glided through the items he had placed on the bench, after you finished looking through the group, you finally spared him a glance.

"your gifts are of high value," you spoke, your voice royal, with an unimaginable presence. "i'm not as powerful as i used to be, my temple and followers were lost to time, my memory faded from the minds of the new." you sauntered over to him now, becoming eye-level with him.

he'd never felt so unworthy.

"i have not much i can give you or do for you, so what would you like from me?"

his ability to speak finalky returned, his mind though, remained blank, so he answered with the only thing on his blank mind:

"your hand."

he immediately rescinded back, never feeling so unnerved and unknowing as he did in this moment. "i- it was an unreasonable request! you-- it's beneath y-"

"that's acceptable. i will go with you, barbarian."

he was shocked as you accepted, though he wouldn't dare question your judgement. "katsuki." he blurted out. "please call me katsuki."

"i will marry you, if it's what you desire katsuki."

his eyes shot open. "yes. i-- it's what i'd like."

"you may call me [name] then." he clutched his heart, he wasn't sure if he was dreaming, but if he was he'd never want it to end.

"alright.. [name]." you smiled at the hesitance in his voice, and waved his worries off with a smile.

"shall we head out then?"

"we can't, the weather is horrible."

"what weather? it's sunny as normal." surely enough, as he turned around the weather had returned to a calm, warm day. the harsh winds and rains no longer present, replaced by the mundane weather.

"i-- i suppose you're correct." he gathered his supplies, even getting your permission to take the things he had on your alter, as he learned it was, back with you two. he slung his satchel behind his back and turned to you.

you held out your hand, and after he placed a chaste kiss on it, he carried you in his arms. the journey back was a blur to him, the burning in his feet nonexistent as he focused on the feeling of his skin on yours, the feeling of his hands on your body.

you arrived sooner then expected. internally, katsuki was excited. not only did he manage to revitalize a goddess, but he'd marry her. he was ecstatic not only at the prospect of beating this into the elders' faces, but to be yours for his eternity.

as he burst back into the conference room, the elders were shocked to see him back so soon. the smug expressions they would've gotten were wiped off the second they noticed you in his arms.

even they, from their distance at their cabinets, could sense the raw presence you had.

"prince bakugo, what is the meaning of this?"

"i've brought to you undeserving folks my wife."

the table of elders all collectively choked at the revelation. "wife? but we've yet to go through the proper trails and period of compatibility. that woman isn't even a barbarian."

"you're right, she's above all of you. she's a deity, and i've earned her hand in marriage. i want my wedding planned for next week, make it fit for a god."

"a deity you say?" the elder's felt like their eyes were about to burst out their sockets. "but--"

they heard nothing as he walked away from the room, you still in his arms. as you eyed the new, strange innovations and buildings around you, katsuki clutched you closer to his chest.

he set you onto a bed, the feeling of silk under your hands one that was foreign, as you hadn't been awakened for over a century.

he knelt in front of you, taking off one of his necklaces, and wordlessly asking for permission to set it on you.

you didn't know this, but this was sacred to the barbarians, presenting one's necklace to another was like talking a piece of your soul and entrusting them with it.

he looked at the sight of you, his ruby necklace with the teeth of the beasts he slayed contrasting severely to the gold you adorned, and he smiled.

you felt your heart go into a knot at the sight of him, he held your hand as he suddenly made a vow to you.

"i vow to be your greatest worshipper. even if i am not the last, i will set a standard that will long exceed my lifespan.

for you are my wife now, and i'll cherish you as long as i may live."

you smiled softly, reaching out to him to hold his other hand. "you've already become my most interesting worshipper, that i'm certain of."

as the two of you basked in each others presence, other gods were smiling upon you two as well.

unbeknownst to you, zeus, a god who had favored you since your birth, had set off the storm on bakugo, leading him to your alter.

not like it was what you were pondering at the moment anyway, as you caressed and embraced your soon to be husband, who you were already planning to turn into a god alongside you.

[mcpostinghours]

I'm going to torment y'all with more Obey Me posting, here's what sorts of dresses I think the boys would pick for MC ( regardless of gender)

Lucifer: He can act like he's not as horny as his brothers, but I think he would imagine something super form fitting. Classy, true, but form fitting and probably black or blue or red. Feather details are a bonus.

Mammon: Thinks MC is so, SO hot, so something short and revealing, decorated in glitter and gold. Obviously something in black and gold. That being said he'd also all but faint to see them in something white and shining, loosely hanging over them like some old depictions of the gods.

Leviathan: Also horny, but also a nerd. Something with fantasy elements, and definitely at least one leg slit. He also likes oceanic colors, or orange to match him of course. Tbh his dream dress for MC would make them look like a mermaid.

Asmodeous: He's also horny (noticing a trend) but he ALSO loves fashion. I think his ideal dress would look like really really fancy lingerie. Definitely heavy on the lace, and definitely something in pink or white.

Satan: A hopeless romantic who loves fairytales? He absolutely would choose some kind of princess looking gown, with a structured bodice and fluffy skirt. Naturally he'd like something in green, or maybe purple.

Beelzebub: I feel like he doesn't think about this kind of stuff much, but if pressed he'd probably pick something short and cute. Or something that made MC's butt look good, he's totally an ass man. I feel like he'd like the color red too, or black.

Belphegor: Now he would want something that's soft and nice to touch, so probably something silk. Naturally he'd like something in purple or deep blue, super dreamy nighttime colors. It also doesn't matter how small your boobs are or if you even have them, this guy wants to see and rest his head on your cleavage. (Brat)

Diavolo: Something luxurious and regal, he wants to show MC the extent of what he can offer them. Also something white and gold, it's gonna end up looking like a wedding dress. He does not care, in fact that's a bonus. Something that glitters and makes them look even more divine. (He low-key wants to make them look more gorgeous than the angels as a flex)

Barbatos: Something slinky and formal. Something that matches the turquoise of his tail. Where Mammon would drape MC in gold, Barbatos goes for jewels. On MC's neck, chest, in their hair. He wants to see them glimmer.

Simeon: Something sweet and power blue. He prefers fabrics that drape and flow, loosely hightlighting their form. He'd never admit it but he also has a thing for dresses that are a bit transparent...

Solomon: While this asshole would probably say he'd prefer them nude, there is a legitimate answer. He would like a dress that looks like the night sky, black with glittering silver stones. Something that makes MC look as magical as he thinks they are. That being said he also wants a really REALLY high leg slit with a garter. He'd have a conniption.

Edit: I have now illustrated part of this:

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

Please I am obsessed with your loaded roommate max post, hear me about what about loaded boss!Mac and his assistant reader who has to come up with all sorts of convincing ways to get him to do PR??

Anon, I'm obsessed with THIS. Did a little combo of the two, hope you like it

Bring your ?????? to work - Max Verstappen x reader

Whoever said that you shouldn't mix business and pleasure hadn't met or worked with Max Verstappen. You didn't mean to, really. You already lived with him, the two of you having some weird psychosexual back and forth due to the forced proximity. But now the Monaco Grand Prix was nearing, and the Redbull social media team was missing some members, something about Imola airport and strikes. Max was overjoyed on Monday when they told him, visualizing a week without filming stupid TikToks. But you pounced on the opportunity to help out. Taking over would do wonders for your online presence, your freelance portfolio, and your wallet. Everyone would give an arm and a leg to "cook in Redbull's kitchen." Step one was to make a nice presentation of the things you needed to film, scripts, storyboards, and shot lists. You pulled an all-nighter, fueled by manic determination and energy drinks. When you're satisfied, you move on to the next one - getting it somewhere. Max is sloppy with closing his door, still sleeping. You neatly move the covers and grin at the morning wood. You pinch his thigh, hard, and he jolts a Dutch word beginning with K on the tip of his tongue.

"Can I?" You ask, motioning to his hard cock. Max is honestly happy to be alive right now. He needs a peaceful start to the morning. Usually, he'd settle for a coffee, but your mouth would do, he supposed. You want something. He can tell, by your slow kisses to his shaft, the way you're teasing his tip. Max can feel your eyes burning into his shut eyelids. When he looks at you, you moan for him, letting the sound please him. You fucking cup his balls and he's gone. Not coming yet, but on full autopilot. He doesn't seem to be careful anymore, he wants to cum into your mouth. Wants to watch you take him to the base, no matter how. It fucking ruins him to see you gag just a little. He slows down, but you're gripping his thighs, desperate for more. Truth be told, you're enjoying this more than you thought you would. His strong hands holding your hair in a ponytail. His gorgeous blue eyes looking at you in awe. His fucking taste, somehow so fucking good. Whatever his nutritionist is doing, they deserve a gold medal. Of course your thoughts are quickly pulled back to Max when he notices you're spacing out.

"Don't get distracted, darling. Be good and finish what you started." He says, voice still scratchy. You intend to, so you hollow your cheeks and let him move his hips again. Max cums and watches you swallow it. He's barely out to door to clean himself when you ask him about the presentation. Post-nut clarity works in your favor.

Max marks his email as urgent, wetransfer link intact, and not even an hour later, you get the notification that it's opened.You're nervous and you've got half a mind to keep sucking off Max until there is any notification back. Franco might have been onto something with that one out of pocket interview about the sex right before the race. If you simply blew your roommate until he was shooting blanks, that would help him, surely? But before you can test that out, you get a reply back. You're in. They like your ideas, and you're gonna start filming on Thursday with Yuki and the VCARB boys, too. Max would be saved for as little socials as possible. But that simply wouldn't do. You needed him. You knew that people would stop scrolling for Max. The silly audios you've prepped wouldn't pack as much as a punch without him. So you had to resort to some more unconventional methods of convincing him. So be it.

Max didn't plan on being on his yacht 2 days before the Free Practice session. He didn't need the attention, especially now when the fans were crawling around Monaco like cockroaches. But you insisted on it for "training purposes." He didn't want Yuki to complain about "the new admin losing her lunch" in the crystalline waters of the harbor.

"Can't believe you've lived here for months, and this is about to be your first time on a boat." Max says. You hum, busy taking it all in.

You weren't a materialist, but Unleash the Lion was impressive. You want to make a biting comment about the cost of the yacht, and how he still insists that you split grocery bills. But you need to be on your best behavior for your plan to work. "You know, you're partially my landlord, on Thursday and the weekend you'll be my boss and here you're the captain. I sure do have a knack for a good power imbalance, don't I?" You say, teasing him.

"If you're about to reveal a weird kink you have, don't bother. I think I'm already very familiar with what you like." He quips back, already aware of your more submissive nature. "Not all of it. There's the exhibitionism." You reply, with the subtlety of a bull in a china shop. Maybe innuendos weren't your strong suit. But getting Max's attention certainly was. "And it's time to steer this fast enough to a place where we can dock this." He says, making the boat go as fast as the 2023 Redbull car. You try to enjoy the ride, and all but you're also thinking of the ride that you wanna give Max. You strip down to the tiny, barely there bikini that you picked just for this "cruise". Slip the box of condoms around the strings, ask the driver to spread sunscreen on your back. The whole shebang.

As soon as the yacht docks, Max is on you, fingertips hovering above your bikini strings. A "Please, I need you" is all it takes for him to melt for you. He makes you suck his fingers in your mouth, before he slides them down your bikini bottoms against your clit. You rut against him, desperate for him to be inside you already, to give you everything you need. Max enjoys the scenery instead. The sun, the sea, the soft moans you're letting out. If he could, he'd stay here forever savoring life. But time's arrow marches only forward, and with your ass rubbing against him, he has no choice but to get on with it. So he gets out of your jeans, takes off your bottoms and takes out the condom, tearing open the package with surgical precision. He lines up behind you, pausing to grip and knead your ass. Sex standing up was clearly new for you. You're a bit awkward, not knowing where exactly to put your hands. That's why Max leads you to the railing, making you grip it. He wraps his hand against your waist and pulls you towards him. He's deep inside of you, the angle doing wonders for you both. Max mutters something about the motion of the ocean as he fucks you. He wants to remember this, how you're christening the yacht, no need for champagne bottles smashed. He'd much rather have the visuals of you squirming against him, ass bouncing. He's a fucking nerd, scolding you about "scaring the fishes" with your sounds, to which you roll your eyes. He thrusts faster, making your legs shake as you come. He fucks you through it, chasing his own orgasm. Under the Monaco sun, he gets it. When you've cleaned yourselves up, as good as you could with the wet wipes you brought, you sit half-dressed. You break down what you'll need to him filming wise, and he groans.

"I want you to remember what we just did the entire time we're shooting. When I'm playing at creative director, only you and I will know that I was moaning your name like I'll call it." You ask and hope that it will be enough. Of course, you know you'll sweeten the deal . You'll brush up against him when no one is watching. You'll make innuendos in Dutch, and of course, promises of what's to come when the cameras are off. After all, you hadn't told him about the other 2 Tiktoks in the planning.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Vergil, and Dante react to his gn s/o who always makes it a habit to tell him that they love him whenever they can like when they wake up, before going to sleep, before they leave, and when they return please?

Dante

heaven is real and it goes by your name.

he loves nothing more then coming home to you waiting for him, holding his face in your hands as you tell him you were happy he was home safe, how you love him, as all he could do was hold you tight and praying that you don't slip from his grip.

never let him wake up from this beautiful reality he mamanged to fall deep into, this beautiful reality that you had made beautiful by just a few simple acts.

dante reciprocates you 'i love you's' with his own eagerly, treating each and every 'i love you' that escapes your lips as though it were made of pure gold, like he would never hear it again, and how does he reciprocate them exactly? by kissing your lips in thanks.

you say 'i love you' in the morning, head rested on his chest, looking gorgeous in your early morning mess, voice barely above a whisper? Dante is quick to peck your lips repeatedly as you laugh at how silly and loveable he was being, yet it was one of the many things that left you warm ans smiling for the entirety of the week.

you say 'i love you' to him before he leaves for a mission, confident in his abilities and know for certain he was coming home to you, holding his calloused hand between your own, showing him that while you believed in him and his unique abilties after so long.

you still had your worries as his lover, his other half, his soulmate that only showed him how deep your love went for him, deeper then what words could ever convey. Dante would reassure your worries with a few well placed hisses as he hold you to his chest, muttering against your head 'love ya too cuddle bug, keep the bed warm for me, wear my old coats, anything if it makes you feel better.'

all before forcing himself to pull away as he mourned the loss of your warmth for the duration of the mission, wishing for it to hurry up so he could go back home to you, even going so far as to make his thoughts known vocally. 'can we finish this right now? i've got a date with the warmest, most comfiest bed to make promise of.' the bed in this scenario is you.

you tell him you love him before drifting off to sleep? feeling so warm by his bodily heat and inable to let him go even an inch? Dante will coo and cuddle closer to you as he pepers kisses across your face before finally your lips.

'don't wander too far sweetheart.' he'd murmur in a tone unlike his usual and overused one. he means it when he tells you not to wander too far from him, for he fears that this is all a dream he'll never truly got to live out entirely.

and dante didn't want that, he wanted to stay here with you for as long as he could, to finally get a taste of the domestic lifestyle in your own uniue way of having strawberry sundaes and pizza to your heart's content. sure it's not healthy but it's what makes you both happy.

Vergil

Vergil is probably the type to say 'you too' after you say 'i love you' those words are strong and emotionally charged words to be saying as frequently as you do, he's not going to say them so quickly.

not unless he was certain that you weren't going anywhere, not unless he was certain he wasn't going anywhere becuase until then he wont say shit.

it's not something i can see this man doing unless he's 100% certain he can't see himself anywhere other than your side.

so he admires your ability to be so open about your feelings, about how you feel towards him without making him think deeply into your every action towards him, knowing he nver has to second guess you as you said what you meant and meant what you say.

whenevever you said 'i love you' to Vergil he feels like he doesn't deserve a love as pure and as unconditional as yours, he feels like a fraud and it sometimes make him want to scream and ask what could you possbly love about him so freely and without judgment?

it doesn't make sense to him at all, but yet he still lets you claim you love him until he finally begins to feel the effects of every 'i love you' you had ever said to him.

during missions, his mind will wander back to you, wanders back to the 'i love you' you said to him beforhand as he wonders what you were doing without him, wonders whether you were waiting for him in his makeshift study reading one of his many books just to feel closer to him

like he knew you did whenever he came home to you sleeping with a half open book in your hand. suddenly his resolve to being done with the mission swiftly became to one of finishing the mission to see you again,

his glacier heart had softened enough by your warmth at long last as he reconciles with the idea thar you love him with no known bounds to speak of, you love simply becuase you do.

your words are no trickery but a simple proclomation, a reminder that his place within your heart had not changed nor wavered. it has not soured, it had ripened and blossomed like a beautiful flower and he had the audacity to question it, foolishness.

so the moment he got home, you ecitedly greeted him from the study, hold his hand by the fingertips, telling him you love him and for what felt like the first time out of many to come, he smiled softly at you and greets you with a small 'hello again little dove.'

'hello again little dove' or just 'hello little dove' is his version of 'i love you.'

you admit your love in the morning to him, having been protectively tucked into the crook of his neck, arms latched to his waist as his back was to the door out of a habit to protect and keep you safe. He'd say 'hello again little dove' in response, his heart softening more when you smiled brightly at him afterwards.

you admit your love when seeig him off to sleep? voice soft as a feather as your voice lulls him into a sense of saftey, sense of belonging with you by his side. he'll say 'i'll see you soon little dove.' reminding you that even in your dreams, he'd follow like a protective second shadow.

[f1fantasys]

Only Mine

Summary - Lando giving you a necklace with his number. Find Charles' version here

Warnings - explicit smut, blowjob, fingering, oral sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, swearing.

'Baby?'' Lando called out to you while you were finishing off your makeup in the bathroom.

''Yeah Lan?'' you replied, walking up to him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. He was standing in front of the floor length mirror in your bedroom.

You rest your chin on his shoulder and looked at him through the mirror. ''Missed you'' you whispered.

You really did miss him. He'd just gotten back from the Chinese and Japanese races which you couldn't go to because of work, so 3 weeks away from each other had you both on edge.

''And i missed you too, which is why i got you a gift'' he said, taking your hands in his and walking to you sit on the bed.

''Oooh i like gifts!'' you excitedly joked.

''Trust me baby, I know'' he smirked.

He opened his drawer and pulled out a long box before sitting next to you and handing it to you.

Intrigued, you took it from him but not before pecking his nose.

You carefully opened it to reveal a gorgeous, dainty gold necklace, but what caught you eye was the pendant in the middle.

It was the word ''four'' etched out with tiny diamonds covering it.

Your breath hitched as you looked up at Lando, your heart fluttering.

He smiled at you. ''Just want you to always remember you're mine, only fucking mine''

''Lan, it's so beautiful, thank you'' you said, launching yourself at him for a tight hug.

He hugged you back before you pulled away and looked at it again. It really was beautiful, but then something else caught your eye.

The word was cut out in handwriting that you knew all too well - it was Landos'.

''Baby, this is your writing. How did you do this?''

''Yes it is, but that's a story for another day. I hope you like it'' he cooed.

''I do, going to wear it everyday. And i love you''

''Love you too sweets''

Lando pulled you in for a kiss which started slow and gentle but very quickly turned sloppy and desperate.

You granted him access as he slid his tongue into your mouth, causing you to suck it for a while as his hands roamed your body.

He pulled you onto his lap and started groping your ass, while you tried to grind down on him.

But you had to stop this from going any further - you had a dinner with friends to get to, and you didn't wanna just have a quick fuck.

''Lando wait. Later. Dinner. Friends'' you mumbled.

''Fuck them'' he said, showing no intentions of slowing down.

''Hmm, I'd rather you fuck me, but later. Come on'' you said, detaching yourself from him and standing up, though your core was screaming in anger, clenching around nothing.

Lando groaned. ''Ugh y/n''

The dinner started off well. You were celebrating a friends' birthday so their was a large group of you. Of course, Lando's hand found homage on your thigh for the whole night, itching closer to where you craved him the most.

You tried to distract yourself by following conversations that were going around the table, which was working until Lando decided to let his fingers slip past your panties and run through your folds.

The action had you jumping in your seat, a flurry of confused eyes looking at you, until he said he kicked you by accident.

Fortunately for you, or unfortunately for Lando, it was soon time to leave and head to the club for a few drinks.

You tried to make up an excuse to go home, but your friends weren't buying it, so here you were being forced to down a few drinks and dance the night away.

You actually were both having fun - you with the girls and Lando with the guys, gossiping and talking shit, dancing crazy to the music on at Jimmy'z, until you went to the bar to get another drink.

A guy - who was at the dinner as well, a friend of a friend, stood beside you and tried to make conversation. He had being giving you weird glances all night, smirking at only you, which you tried to brush off. Right now, you wasted no time in making it obvious that you didn't want to interact with him.

He wasn't budging though, and he was inching closer to you in the limited space. You tried to search the crowd for your boyfriend- or anyone else for that matter but everyone was caught up doing their own thing that no one saw your eyes begging for help.

He looked at your neck and obviously saw your necklace, and putting on a fake, sarcastic laugh.

''Lando Norris huh? Really?''

You looked at him, your eyes throwing daggers at him. ''What's that supposed to mean?'' you asked.

''Well, for starters, he's such a fucking useless driver. Bet i can do better than him and win a race. And baby you can surely do better than a man like him''

You hated when people down talked Lando like this. He was one of the best fucking in drivers in the world and 2 bad races do not define him. And what the fuck does he mean you can do better than someone like Lando?

You took you necklace in your hand and squeezed it tight, somehow trying to draw power from it to tell this guy to fuck off. But he started talking again.

''Bet he doesn't even know how to fuck you properly, bet you can't even make you cum. Let me show you how a night of passion should be' he rambled on.

By now you were seeing red.

''Seriously you need to fucking stop talking right now. I don't owe you anything but I will tell you that you are wrong. Lando is the most talented fucking driver on that grid, and for your information, he fucks me better than you could ever fuck yourself''

Just as you finished saying that Lando appeared by your side. His face laced with confusion as he took your one hand in his and then noticed how you were clinging into the necklace.

''Y/n'' he said. ''What's going on?'' he said, looking at the guy now, throwing his own daggers at him because you wouldn't be pissed off for no reason.

''Oh nothing, just a low life who thinks he knows shit, trying to interfere with our lives, but really just needs to fuck off'' you spat.

''Oh please, what are you guys? 12 years old that you have to wear a piece of jewelry to show off?'' the guy spat back.

Now it was Lando's turn to see red.

''Listen, this is the exact reason she's wearing it. To show losers like you that she's mine, and not yours. So fuck off before I do something you'll regret'' Lando shouted over the music.

You won't lie - hearing him claim you as his and saying he got you that necklace so everyone knew that your only his had turned you on more than it should have.

You squeezed his hand, not bothering to pay any attention to the guy again.

''Lan, take me home please'' you said, rubbing your lips together.

His anger faded when he looked at you and smiled. ''Gladly'' he said, before throwing one last dagger at that stupid man.

You rushed out of the club hand in hand. Lando never let go while waiting for the valet to bring his car over.

The ride home was palpable with tension. Neither of you saying a word but stealing glances at each other ever so often.

Thinking you were being discreet, you started rubbing your thighs together - trying to get some relief to your aching core.

He didn't miss that action though. He settled his hand on your thigh again and squeezed it.

''Wait til we're home baby. I''ll take care of you'' he whispered.

As Lando parked and stopped the engine, he made way to open his door though you stopped him.

Unbuckling your belt you got onto your knees on your seat as best you could in the small car and leaned over. You quickly unbuttoned his shirt before leaning forward and taking one of his nipples into your mouth.

He hissed at the contact. ''Fuck y/n'' he panted as he held your hair out of your face, pulling at it, hard.

You bit and sucked at it while you hand snaked down to unbutton his jeans and slide into his boxers. He was already half hard so when you pulled his dick out it was already standing stern, begging for attention.

You continued to lick a stripe down his torso, stopping to peck his moles, as you pumped him a few times, using your thumb to spread his pre-cum over his slit.

Just as you were about to take him into your mouth Lando pulled your head up to give you a dirty kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss, goosebumps appearing on your skin at just how rough he was.

''You're only mine y/n, never forget that. And next time someone behaves like that, kick him in the balls'' he said, pulling back and looking into your eyes.

Before you could even respond, Lando was pushing you head down and his dick in your mouth, making you bop up and down his length.

You deep throated him straightaway - his tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag.

''Yes baby, that's it, taking me so fucking well'' he said as he continued to fuck himself into your mouth.

You moaned at him - words of encouragement always turning you on even more.

''You like that, don't you? Taking my thick girth down the back of your throat so good like that''

You moaned again and pulled up for some air.

Lando watched how your spit was dripping down your chin and he couldn't help but lick some of it off of you before pushing you down on him again.

You could his dick start to twitch in your mouth - his own movements becoming sloppy.

''Fuck me, y/n, not gonna last baby. Gonna cum now'' he grunted through gritted teeth.

And he did. Sheets of warm and salty cum shot in your mouth as he pulled harder on your hair.

You rode him through his orgasm, sucking on his tip before pulling off completely, breath heavy as you looked at him.

He cupped your face and chuckled lightly.

''What?'' you asked, curious as to what his answer would be.

''Who knew an asshole like that would lead to me earning the best head you've ever given me?'' he whispered.

''Fuck Lan, need to feel you in me now!'' you said, already climbing out of the car and running towards the front door of your penthouse.

Lando followed you and as soon as the door was shut he had you against it.

Crashing his lips to yours with an urgency while his hands ripped your dress off of you. You couldn't care less about it. All you knew was you needed to feel him everywhere.

You'd not worn a bra tonight so it was easy for Lando to bend down and latch his mouth to your nipple. Biting and sucking at it, showing it no mercy while his hand massaged your other boob.

You held onto his hair as he sank lower and lower down your torso, eventually settling at his knees.

He pryed your legs open, sliding your tiny panties down them before he attacked your pussy with his lips.

''Fuck Lando'' you panted, your back arching off the door as your pulled on his hair harder.

He wasted no time in finding your clit and kitty licking it with the tongue, while his eyes never left yours.

''Hmm yes, please'' you begged him, not sure what for.

He pulled your pussy apart with both hands, allowing his tongue to slide in with ease through your entrance, before replacing it with two fingers, thrusting in and out of you.

Your nails were now digging into his shoulders, probably leaving purple marks for tomorrow. Your way of showing everyone he was yours..

He set a quick pace, curling his fingers at just the right time for you to feel your orgasm approaching.

''Lan, gonna cum'' you said through bated breaths, and in no time you were gushing your sweet liquid all over his face, his tongue trying to lick and swallow it all while you were a moaning mess above him.

Your legs, definitely like jelly by now, started to give way but Lando quickly stood up and held you up, before jolting you up over his shoulders and walking towards your bedroom.

''So pretty my love'' he whispered, more to himself, as he dropped you on the bed.

You whined. ''You're still wearing too many clothes'' you said as you sat on your knees and helped him work off his shirt and jeans, stripping his boxers off.

His cock bounced freely, already hard and aching for more. He pumped himself a few times while looking at you watch his actions.

'''Ready baby?'' he asked, though he knew the answer already.

''Fuck me now, please'' you begged again.

Lando pushed you to lay down and placed your legs over his shoulders as he lined himself up with your dripping pussy.

''Remember babygirl, you asked for it, yeah?''

All you could do was nod embarrassingly eagerly, as he thrust his whole dick in you at one go.

Normally he'd give you time to adjust to the intrusion, but on nights like this when you were both riled up, there was no holding back.

You palmed your breast as he fucked into you at a relentless pace, both your moans filling the room, loud enough for people walking on the streets to hear.

''So fucking tight baby, taking me so well. God you feel so amazing'' he muttered through his moans before he leaned down to adorn your neck with enough hickeys to last a month.

''Lan, Lando, Harder, deeper, please'' you edged him on.

Within minutes your body was shaking and trembling below him, your orgasm washing over you violently.

''Fuck me'' he mumbled, his hands now finding your waist and ramming into you with just as much force.

You dug your nails into his biceps, begging him for to stop - or for more - you weren't sure.

Suddenly, you got an idea, so with whatever energy you had, you pushed Lando off you so that he was now laying down.

You quickly climbed on top of him and sank down again, gripping at his abs and setting a quick pace. You watched as he licked his lips and smiled to yourself as his eyes shifted from yours down to your neck.

The necklace

Shining bright and looking beautiful as every on you - this was the reaction you wanted. His eyes grew shades darker and you watched as his breath hitched and he bit down on his lower lip.

You couldn't help but let out a few moans.

''Like what you see baby?'' you asked innocently.

It was as if you tapped him out of his daydream as his eyes found yours again and gave you the biggest boyish grin you'd seen in a long time.

''You fucking know it'' he smirked, now lifting himself up to thrust into you.

You leaned forward so the necklace was now dangling right in front of his face, going crazy with the movements of both your bodies.

Lando leaned up a bit and took it into his mouth, sucking it while his eyes remained your yours above him.

That action alone shot another orgasm through your body, shuddering and closing your eyes to calm your breathing as you felt your cum sliding out of you with each thrust Lando was giving you.

''Mother of fucks this is incredible'' you say incoherently as Lando slides out of you and pushes you back down, pulling your whole body to the edge of the bed where he is now standing and lining up with you again.

He thrust in, holding your legs out the way while watching you face contort with pain and pleasure, both your breaths reaching new heights.

''How did i get so lucky. The prettiest, more intelligent girl out there and best of all the one who fucks me the best. Y/n, you're something else'' he said, clearly now chasing his own orgasm as he was becoming sloppy and could barely hold himself up.

You were too fucked out to know what was happening to be honest.

So you let him have his way with you. You did feel as his thumb found your clit and started circling it.

''Gonna cum for me again? Hmm baby? Got one more in you?'' he asked, not that you had a choice.

Words had long left your brain, so you just let out a series of moans to pleasure his ears, while the sound of your bodies slamming together pleasured yours.

You opened your eyes and saw how Lando let his spit drip from his mouth down to the place you were joined, sliding around his dick and disappearing into your cunt.

''Lan I'm done, gonna cum'' you panted, eyes shutting at how sore you actually were now.

''Do it y/n, let it out'' he said.

And just as you moaned out his name when you felt your orgasm ripping through you, you felt ropes of warm cum filling you up and painting your inner walls white, his dick twitching uncontrollably inside of you.

''Fuck me'' he said as you pulled him down to let his weight fall on you.

The both of you were so zoned out, neither making a move to get up and clean up.

You just held each other, trying to calm your breaths, shivering at the cool air now drying the sweat that was covering you.

Lando felt himself soften inside of you so he slowly slid out - you whined at the loss of contact.

''Be back now, let me clean you up'' he said, running to the bathroom.

You sat up and looked down, seeing the mixture of juices slide out of you had you scooping some up on your finger, just as Lando returned with a warm towel.

Just as you were about to put your digit into your mouth, he moved quickly to lean down and take your finger into his mouth instead.

''Uh, Lan!'' you whined, watching as he sucked on your finger.

He swallowed and smirked at you.

''Sorry baby, it just looked so fucking hot''

You pouted at him but watched as he leaned down further and licked more that was dripping out of you before leaning up and prying your mouth open to drip it into.

''There'' he said, and you couldn't help but smile at him.

After cleaning up and climbing into bed together - you wearing nothing but some lacy panties and a certain piece of jewelry - Lando pulled you into his side and held you close, pecking your nose.

''I love you baby'' he whispered.

''Love you too handsome'' you replied back, you fingers playing with the necklace.

''Thank you again for this Lan. I love it, and it will always tell me - and others - that I'm yours and only yours'' you said.

''Only mine, babygirl''

Requests are open for Lando and Charles!!

[rika-mmendmethings]

Belly Dance | Sylus

Summary: Sylus unearths a college-era belly dancing outfit during your move-in to his house. After you reluctantly agree to perform, his awe and love help you rediscover the fun, confident person you were. The night ends in passion and sensuality as Sylus shows you just how beautiful you have always been.

Tag(s): belly dancer! Reader x bf! Sylus, written with a female reader in mind, fluff, sensuality, mildly suggestive, fade to black, insecurities, kinda au idk???

Word count: 3.3k

Now playing: Beautiful Liar by Beyoncé and Shakira

Notes: Got suggested a few reels of absolutely gorgeous women belly dancing on this song, and the rest was history. Writing this was less of a pain since I'm quite adapted to writing for Sylus. Hopefully you enjoy reading this as well ♥

The apartment was filled with the soft rustling of cardboard as the task of moving into Sylus’s place stretched into its third hour. The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting long, lazy shadows across the wooden floors. You stood among a sea of cardboard boxes, surrounded by the mismatched chaos of your things — clothes, books, framed photos, knick-knacks from various places you'd lived, and little trinkets that each carried a memory. Today was the day you were officially moving in with Sylus, and as you carefully unpacked your things, you felt a wave of excitement mixed with a touch of nervousness. The air smelled faintly of lavender from the air fresheners Sylus had placed.

Sylus was behind you, moving about with an easy grace, methodically folding your clothes and putting them in drawers. You glanced around. The place was mostly empty, save for a few scattered boxes and the odd piece of furniture — most of the bigger pieces had already been moved in. You were mentally running through the checklist in your head that you didn’t even notice Sylus calling out to you at first, his voice cutting through the quiet atmosphere.

“Sweetie, what’s this?” he asked, the words laced with surprise and curiosity.

His voice was tinged with amusement, and you could tell he was holding something up, clearly intrigued by whatever he'd just unearthed. You didn’t turn to look right away. Instead, you lifted a box of your own, checking the contents as you sorted them into piles. You were so engrossed in organizing everything just so that you didn’t quite register the change in his tone until he continued.

“It’s... beautiful,” he said, his voice sounding almost reverent now.

At that, you turned around fully, a frown already forming on your face, only to freeze in your tracks when you saw what he was holding. In his hands, Sylus was gently lifting a belly dancing outfit — a stunning set of rich, maroon fabric adorned with delicate gold beads and sequins that glittered faintly in the light. It was the outfit you had bought years ago for a silly bet you’d lost with your friends back in college, and one you hadn’t thought about in months. The top, a halter-style design, was made to hug the contours of the body, while the skirt was sheer and flowing, the kind that danced with every twist of the hips.

You didn’t even realize you’d already taken a step toward him until you were dashing across the room, a gasp escaping you. “Sylus, no!” you half-laughed, half-scolded as you stretched out your arms to grab the shimmering material. But of course, he was much taller than you, and the outfit was far out of your reach, held high above his head. His smile spread even further, amused by your quick reaction, and he stepped back just enough to keep you from grabbing it.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich, and with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he danced out of your reach once more. “I don’t know... this is really pretty,” he taunted, inspecting the outfit more closely. “I’m just surprised I’ve never seen it before. Do you belly dance?”

You froze mid-step, eyes widening, and your body tensed instinctively as you registered his words. His Cheshire smile was widening, and there was something undeniably playful in his gaze. You blinked twice, unable to form words for a moment, before you quickly crossed the room to stand in front of him, hands on your hips in an exaggerated motion of mock annoyance.

“Give that back!” you demanded, your voice thick with embarrassment. The red in your cheeks gave away how flustered you were, and you reached up again, trying to snatch it away, but to no avail.

He tilted his head, watching you with an utterly delighted expression, clearly enjoying this moment far more than he had any right to. “What’s the story behind this?” he asked, his voice dropping just enough to give it a soft, teasing lilt. “You never told me you belly danced.”

You exhaled in frustration, biting the inside of your cheek, but a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You stood there for a long moment, your hands still raised in a half-attempted grab. There was no escaping this now. You might as well come clean.

“Fine,” you said, rolling your eyes as you put your hands down, your expression melting into something more sheepish. “You really want to know?”

Sylus nodded eagerly, a smirk still dancing on his lips as he waited. His face was playful, but there was an underlying sincerity in his gaze, as though he genuinely wanted to understand.

You let out a sigh, feeling both embarrassed and strangely warm from the look in his eyes. “Okay, okay,” you began, your voice a little quieter now, “In my final year of college, my friends and I were part of a small group — a little clique. We were always making silly bets and pranks on each other. Anyway, we were having this trivia contest one weekend, and I lost too. So, the bet was that I, along with the other girls who lost, had to join this belly dancing club at the local community center.”

Sylus mused. “Belly dancing?”

“Yep.” You grinned sheepishly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “It was a two-month program. We had to go to lessons every week. I won’t lie, at first, we were all ridiculously self-conscious and awful, but after a while... It was actually kinda fun. There was this one friend of mine who was so into it, and she got us all hyped up.”

You paused, lost in the memory. It had been such an unexpectedly fun experience. “Anyway, after the program ended, one of the girls threw this huge sleepover at her house. We all decided to bring our glittery outfits — because, why not? We were all completely drunk on the fun of the whole thing, and we danced around like idiots, trying to outdo each other. It wasn’t... it wasn’t a great performance or anything, but it was hilarious and a good souvenir from my final year.”

You trailed off, a soft smile on your lips as you looked at Sylus, who had been listening intently, his face unreadable for a few moments as he mulled over your words. The silence in the room felt different now, charged, full of something unspoken. His gaze was thoughtful as he met yours, fingers gently toying with the fabric of the outfit in his hands.

Finally, Sylus spoke again, his voice quiet but filled with something that caught your attention. He spoke with a slight request, a softness that seemed hesitant. “So, um...” His voice trailed off as his gaze softened. “Could you... show me?”

You blinked, stunned. “Show you?” The words left your mouth before you even processed them. You rubbed your arm, heat flaring up in your cheeks. The thought of dancing in front of Sylus, of him watching you — in the way that made you all hot and bothered — was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You hesitated, biting your lip, but then you saw it — the pleading look in his eyes, the way his lips curved into a small pout. The effect was immediate. It was so uncharacteristically adorable that you found yourself melting, despite the nervous flutter in your nerves. You never stood a chance.

“You really want me to?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice betrayed you.

“I’m not going to... be good. It’s been years since I last danced,” you muttered, crossing your arms defensively.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” Sylus said, his voice so soft now, almost coaxing, “Besides, I personally think that you’d be my Shakira.”

You let out a laugh at that but inwardly melted at his sincerity. “Okay, fine.”

As you stepped into the bathroom to change, the soft click of the door closing behind you did little to block out the swirl of critical thoughts rushing through your mind.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for a long moment before slipping into the outfit. As you pulled the top over your shoulders, you couldn’t help but notice how the fabric felt tighter across your chest, how the waistband of the skirt sat differently on your hips. You tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust it as though that might make it fit just like it did in those carefree days. But it didn’t. The outfit was a little snugger now, and that familiar feeling of unease began to creep in.

You bit your lip, studying yourself more intently. Your reflection seemed foreign, as though it didn’t belong in the same outfit you’d worn just a few years ago. This isn’t how it used to look. You felt the uncomfortable weight of your own self-doubt creeping in, clouding the excitement that had originally made you agree to Sylus’s request.

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open startled you, and you turned quickly. Sylus was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

The moment his gaze landed on you, your stomach twisted. You were still caught in your spiral of self-doubt, suddenly feeling too exposed in front of him. His eyes moved over you slowly, taking in the fabric of the outfit, the shimmer of the beads catching the light.

"You look stunning," he said, his voice quiet, but steady.

You crossed your arms over your chest, awkwardly, almost like you were trying to hide yourself. You couldn’t help it; the words still felt distant, not quite convincing enough. "It... doesn’t fit like it used to," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, like the words themselves might shatter the fragile confidence you were trying to hold onto. "I— I don’t know... I don’t look the same anymore."

He took a slow step toward you, his movements easy, as if he were already certain of what he wanted to say — and for a moment, it calmed the frantic chatter in your mind. You felt your breath catch when his hands reached out, gently pushing your arms away from your body. He gently lifted your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“You know," he said softly, "it doesn’t matter how it used to fit. You look beautiful. You always look beautiful.”

His eyes, warm and steady, never wavered from yours as he continued, “The outfit doesn’t define you. You define it. You always have.”

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing, the lingering doubts still tugging at you. “But I—” you began, but Sylus cut you off with a gentle shake of his head, his thumb softly brushing against your chin.

“You’re perfect the way you are,” he said, the words carrying an undeniable sincerity that stopped you in your tracks. “Nothing has changed about how amazing you are. The body you have now? It’s the one I fell in love with. And I’m telling you, the way you move your curves in that outfit...” He let out a soft chuckle, eyes twinkling with affection. “It’s gonna be ten times better than before, I promise.”

His words were so simple, but there was such undeniable truth to them. The self-consciousness that had taken root in your chest slowly started to loosen, replaced by a warm sense of reassurance. Sylus wasn’t looking at you with the same judgmental gaze you feared; he was seeing you beyond the nerves and self-doubt, straight to the person you were, right there, in front of him.

With a deep breath, you let your arms fall to your sides, as the last traces of doubt melted away. His words had broken through that negative cloud hanging over you, and you realized he wasn’t seeing what you saw when you looked at yourself. He wasn’t comparing you to anyone or anything, least of all some distant, youthful version of yourself.

You took a steadying breath and finally gave him a smile, one that was small but full of gratitude. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it.”

Sylus’s grin broke wide across his face, the warmth in his eyes making your heart skip a beat. “That’s my girl,” he said, stepping back to give you some space. “I’m going to wait for the show.”

When you emerged a few minutes after him, Sylus was waiting on the bed, looking up at you with such anticipation that you couldn’t help but feel your heart stuttering. His eyes traced the delicate beads that shimmered along the top of the outfit, the way the skirt swayed as you moved. His gaze was so full of admiration that it made you feel almost weightless.

The first few seconds of music you had set filled the room, and you closed your eyes, letting the sound settle into your bones. You took a breath and rolled your shoulders, letting your hips follow the flow.

And then — you began.

Your arms rose slowly, your wrists circling with delicate precision as you stepped lightly into the center of the room. The maroon fabric swayed around your legs as your body moved in time with the music. Your hips rolled with practiced, fluid ease — slow at first, teasingly graceful — before picking up the rhythm in waves, each movement melting into the next like silk.

You could feel his eyes on you, heavy and electric, and the weight of his attention made your skin tingle with awareness. Every time you dared to sneak a glance at him, your heart jumped.

He looked completely, utterly undone.

Sylus was frozen where he sat, his hands now curled slightly on his thighs, his lips parted as if he’d meant to say something but had forgotten how. A faint flush had risen high on his cheeks and spilled down his neck, staining his skin a soft rose. His jaw flexed once, but still — no words. Just him, utterly transfixed.

His gaze followed the sway of your torso, the flick of your fingers, the arch of your back as you turned. You dipped your chin coyly, catching him again in a quick glance — and that time, you saw the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, his breath coming more shallow now. One of his hands had gripped the edge of the bed, knuckles white.

He was mesmerized.

The confidence he’d planted in you just minutes earlier was blooming now, unfurling with every step, every isolated roll of your stomach, every beat that your body translated into movement. You weren’t just dancing to entertain him. You were dancing because it felt good to be seen again. To be desired exactly as you were. To feel alive inside your own skin.

The music faded into a soft echo, and you stood in your final pose, chest rising and falling delicately with your breath, the air thick between you and Sylus. You let the silence linger for just a heartbeat longer before taking a slow step forward.

Then another.

His gaze tracked every inch of you like a man possessed.

You walked with a purposeful sway, letting your hips roll just a little more exaggeratedly than necessary, enjoying the soft jingle of the beads at your waist. You stopped just in front of him, his knees between yours, your fingertips trailing lightly up the side of his jaw, testing him.

Sylus tilted his face into your touch, but he still didn’t speak. His pupils were fully dilated, and the way he licked his lips made heat bloom low in your nether regions. He looked like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to worship you or pull you into him and never let go.

You leaned in close, your lips barely brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, voice soft, “You’re staring.”

His breath hitched. “Can you blame me?”

A slow smile curled across your lips. You didn’t say anything. Instead, you leaned back just enough to let him see the glint in your eyes before you took a half-step closer and eased onto his lap.

Sylus went completely still beneath you, his hands hovering instinctively at your sides like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch you yet. You sat sideways, one leg hooked over his, the skirt of your costume falling open just enough to show the stretch of your thighs. Your fingertips toyed with the fabric at your own hip, the corner of your mouth lifting playfully.

You tilted your head, your voice lowering to a purr. “Did I drive you crazy, huh?”

Sylus leaned in, his nose brushing the line of your jaw, lips ghosting your ear as he whispered, “Absolutely.”

His hands found their place now, sliding around your waist with a reverent kind of slowness, thumbs brushing your bare skin where the top met the curve of your belly. You laughed softly, letting your fingers slide through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You let out a startled sound — a breathy half-gasp, half-laugh — as Sylus suddenly flips you onto your back with such fluidity it leaves your head spinning, causing the maroon fabric of your skirt to fan out around you like a pool of molten silk, catching the soft light, shimmering with the motion. He’s above you now, propped up on his forearms, his body warm and solid over yours, his eyes shining with a mix of lust and unmistakable tenderness.

Your laughter dies down into a soft hum as you meet his gaze, and for a moment, neither of you speak. You feel the weight of his stare, not possessive, but present, grounding you in the moment like nothing else ever had.

Then, his hands slowly begin to move, skimming along the maroon fabric that clings to your body, fingers light and reverent. “What a pretty dress,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with awe before his sanguine eyes flicker up to you. You smile at the compliment, but it’s what he says next that truly knocks the breath from your lungs.

“And what a prettier you.”

You can’t help the way your breath catches again, how you instinctively roll your eyes, embarrassed but secretly delighted. A blush surges hot up your neck, and you bite your lower lip in a bashful attempt to temper your reaction, but it’s useless — he sees right through you. And judging by the soft, crooked grin on his face, he likes that he can still surprise you.

Before you can even gather a response, Sylus moves — shifts lower, slower, with deliberate care — and plants the softest kiss on your ankle. Your breath hitches again. Then another kiss, just above it. He works his way upward, mouth brushing along your calf, your knee, your inner thigh — lingering longer, his stubble grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp softly and squirm beneath him.

He continues with an almost worshipful focus, trailing higher still, the kisses dotting your soft belly now. He works his way up to your ribs, your shoulders, then along the delicate curve of your collarbone. You’re giggling now, high and breathy, unable to stop yourself, both from the ticklish trail of his mouth and the sheer overwhelming affection of it all. His kisses turn playful along your jaw, your cheeks, the tip of your nose — until finally, finally — his lips brush yours.

It starts as the softest kiss — just a whisper of contact. Then another. And then a deeper one, as though he’s trying to pour everything he feels into that single moment. His hand cradles the side of your face, thumb stroking gently against your cheekbone. When he pulls back — just enough to breathe — you're a kind of giddy that comes from being loved so thoroughly it leaves no room for doubt. You blink up at him, trying to gather yourself, but all that spills out is a shaky laugh as you cover your face with your hands.

You peek at him from behind your hands after a while, unable to stop smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”

Sylus grins down at you, before wrapping your legs around his waist. You instantly pick up on his intentions and tease, “We were supposed to unpack.”

“Later, sweetie.” He murmurs, nudging your nose with his, “Let me have you for now.”

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[evansbby]

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sugar daddy!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sugar daddy Ari, age gap, smutt, daddy!kink, ab riding, dirty talk.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your sugar daddy decides to dress you up in a costume of his choice for Halloween.

𝐀/𝐍: Random spontaneous Halloween "drabble" that is 3.8k words long lol. Inspired by the hottest daddy of them all, Ari Levinson, and his gorgeous abs. Hence the gif. Enjoy! And Happy Halloween, despite the fact that this drabble is not spooky at all.

“Twirl for me again, princess.”

Ari leans back against the headboard of his king-sized bed, his blue eyes dark as navy as he brings his glass of scotch up to his lips and takes a sip. His gaze is stuck on you as he lounges relaxedly, still dressed in his suit from work. Well, you’d taken his jacket off and loosened his tie for him before he’d patted you on your bum and sent you to your dressing room to try on the new costume he’d got for you.

You’d only been seeing Ari for two months. And by “seeing” you meant you’d only been his sugar baby for about two months, when you’d met him at the cocktail bar where you worked as a waitress. He’d come by one night with a bunch of his colleagues (all of them in expensive suits, clearly extremely wealthy). That notion had been confirmed when he’d pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into your hand at the end of the night, his eyes looking at you expectantly as if he knew you’d give him your number.

You had, of course. What followed was two months filled with expensive gifts, a hefty weekly allowance, a new designer wardrobe, glittering jewels and some incredible sex to top it all off. You’d gotten to know Ari in many different ways these past sixty days. But what you didn’t know he was so big on Halloween.

Your “costume” was for Ari’s eyes only, as he’d warningly told you when he’d handed you the shopping bag. And there was no way you could’ve worn it anywhere else: the baby pink satin negligee barely reached mid-thigh, but it was so breathtakingly pretty, so dainty with the lacy white trim and matching satin white gloves. The back was almost completely exposed, showcasing the pretty pink lace panties you had on underneath (with a heart-shaped cut-out that exposed your bum). A sparkly tiara on your head completed the look.

He'd dressed you as his little princess.

“How come you don’t have a costume, Ari?” You ask as you twirl around for him slowly, trying not to topple over in the expensive white pumps he’d also made you wear.

Ari licks his lips, beckoning you closer with just a look. He’d trained you well in the two months he’d had you, moulding you into his perfect angel who leapt at his slightest command. It was easy, since you were so cute and innocent, and so happy to please him. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you’d jump to obey him. He watches you closely now, looking so precious and hot in your little princess costume (or lingerie, rather) and your lips part as you eagerly move closer to him, almost tripping in your heels to do so.

He chuckles, “I’m too old to be dressing up for Halloween, sweetheart.”

You pout, “You’re not old, Ari! You’re just perfect!”

He can’t help but smile at your cuteness and naivety; he really had plucked up the prettiest and most innocent little girl with a heart of pure gold.

“That’s real sweet of you, baby. Now turn around and bend over for me so I can see that cute baby ass.” He takes another sip of his scotch. You’d made him his favourite drink the moment he’d walked into his penthouse apartment where you’d been waiting for him like the delectable little treat you were – sweeter than any Halloween candy, and he could ravage you forever without ever feeling sick.

You giggle, feeling slightly rebellious. You’d had a few sips of wine before he’d come home, your anticipations running high whilst you waited impatiently for him. He was like a drug to you, with his rugged good looks and muscular body and charming smile. You were also incredibly attracted to the power he wielded; Ari owned and was the CEO of multiple companies across the globe, and for the life of you, you couldn’t imagine how he’d ever decided to ask for your number that one fateful night two months ago.

“But Ari, since I’m a princess tonight, that means I’m royalty. Which means I don’t have to follow anyone’s orders but my own, right?” You smile triumphantly.

Ari looks infinitely amused as he runs his hand through his unruly hair, his other hand inching down to palm his clothed crotch.

“Little princesses like you still have to take orders from their daddy,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you teeter in your high heels. “Which, by the way, is what you should be addressing me as. You call me Ari one more time and I’ll take you over my knee. I don’t care if it’s Halloween.”

You pout harder, looking so extra cute that Ari has to pace himself from reaching over and grabbing you right then and there. He’s waited to dress you up in this costume for a while now, though, and he knows he needs to savour it.

“That’s a good little princess,” he murmurs in approval once you turn around and bend over, giving him the perfect view of your cute ass. “Look at those pretty little princess panties, hugging that cute baby ass. You like your panties, baby?”

“Y-Yeah,” you pant, and he knows you’re turned on by his words. “Thank you, daddy, I really like them.”

“You like being my little princess?”

“Yes, daddy. Wanna be your princess forever.”

Ari can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are, and when you say things like that, he just wants to gather you in his arms and plant a thousand kisses to your face, cuddle with you and buy you whatever you please. But he has to keep a strong resolve tonight, because he’s been waiting for an opportunity to ravage you in your princess costume for ages now, and he’s been working overtime at the office and he knows he deserves this.

“Daddy? Can I stop bending over now? It’s startin’ to hurt.”

Ari swirls his glass of scotch around absentmindedly, a wicked look crossing his face, “Soon, baby. First, I want you to spank yourself.”

You gasp, and then there’s a pause.

“M-Me? Spank myself?”

“You heard me, baby. I won’t repeat myself.”

You reach back gingerly, squeezing your eyes shut because you’ve got your back to him and you know he can’t see (usually, he always demands you keep your eyes open). You give your behind a tentative little slap, feeling embarrassed to say the least.

“Harder, sweetheart. How can you be a princess if you don’t have a firm hand?” You can hear the smugness in his voice, and it just turns you on more. You know your new princess panties are soaked through, and you wonder if he can tell.

“B-But I don’t wanna have a firm hand,” you whimper, already feeling very submissive. You like it when he spanks you (although it hurts but it hurts so good). But you spanking yourself? It’s embarrassing. It turns you on because you’re doing it for him, but it’s still embarrassing.

“Are you talking back to me, baby?” Ari’s eyes are hooded with lust as he openly palms his dick.

“Sorry, daddy,” you bite your lip before giving your ass another slap – harder this time. And Ari exhales slowly as he watches your ass jiggle cutely, and he commands you to hit yourself again, to not stop until he says so. And he watches you spank yourself, turned on beyond belief at your complete submission.

“Fuck, you have such a cute ass, baby. Squeeze it for me.” He orders you, voice gruff and strained because of how horny he is.

You obey, squeezing the soft flesh through your barely-there panties. Ari’s fingers itch to touch you himself, make you mewl with pleasure just with his touch the way only he could. Because he’s the only one who’s ever touched you like that, who ever would touch you like that. You were his baby, his little princess and he’d take care of you forever.

“Stop. Now come here.”

You swallow, straightening up to walk over to him, except he stops you again by just a look.

“No, baby. On your knees. Daddy wants you to crawl.”

You decide to test your luck one last time, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, “But daddy, I’m supposed to be a princess and not a kitten. And princesses don’t crawl.”

Ari rolls his eyes, “You’ll do as I say. Baby princesses like you still need to obey their daddy because you’re not in charge, got that?”

“Y-Yeah, I got it.” You sink down to your knees and slink over to him, making sure to sway your hips as you crawl because you know he loves that. And you love how he looks at you darkly, his eyes so blown out with lust and want. As if he’s restraining himself from just grabbing you and fucking you. Because you know how virile he is, how high his sex drive is.

“That’s my good little girl,” he coos, making you feel all special. You stop at the foot of the bed and he reaches down, petting the top of your head, stroking your hair like you’re some kind of pet. Your sparkly tiara falls lopsided, but manages to stay on your head. But you like how he strokes you, you like how affectionate it feels, and so you nuzzle up into his palm, wanting him to stroke you some more.

Instead, he grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you up, manhandling you as if you’re his little baby, till he’s got you nestled on top of him, and you can feel his hard dick underneath you. A wicked look in his eye, he straightens your tiara before patting your cheek condescendingly.

“How’re you enjoying Halloween so far, princess?”

You mull over it, trying not to focus on his hard dick directly underneath your butt. “It’s nice. This is the first time in a few years that I’ve stayed in for Halloween, instead of going to a party.”

This was true, since being at college for the past two years meant that you always went out on Halloween.

“Oh yeah? You’d rather be at a frat party right now?” Ari’s hands land on your hips, grinding you down against his dick so that you’re effectively dry humping him. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, and you made grabby hands at him but he holds you at bay.

“No, no, no!” You answer desperately, trying to lean forward to kiss him but he holds you in place firmly, “Would much rather be with you, daddy. I love you so much.”

Ari can feel his heart melting fast. You’re just so delectable and cute, blinking up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours. And it had been so easy for you to fall in love with him, you’d told him so only two weeks into your whirlwind romance. He’d taken you out on his private yacht, and he’d bought you the prettiest sailor outfit, and you’d clung to him because you were scared you might fall overboard because of how clumsy you were.

But you’d looked so pretty as the salty sea air rushed over your face, and how you just wouldn’t let go of his hand. You couldn’t stop smiling either, and when he’d kissed you on the deck, holding you firm against the railing as the sun set into the ocean behind you, that’s when you’d whispered it breathlessly against his lips. Like you couldn’t keep it in any longer: I love you.

You’d tried to tug away from him after that, embarrassed at how you’d let your inner feelings slip out so soon into your relationship with him. But you couldn’t help it, he just made you feel so safe, so alive, so wonderful, so you. You’d tried to make a hasty exit, making up an excuse that you had to make a phone call, and praying he hadn’t heard you whisper those three forbidden words…

But Ari had heard you, and his heart had swelled in a way he never thought it could. He’d entered this relationship with you because he needed someone to take care of, and well, you were so hot the night he’d first seen you. So pretty and innocent and lovely. And then he’d gotten to know you, and you were so lively, and made him feel so youthful, made him feel so powerful and important, made him feel like he had to protect you while you danced around his life and made him laugh and cheered him up the way only you could.

He’d held you tightly against him that night on the yacht, not letting you slip away as he’d cupped your beautiful face in his hands, and he’d told you that he loved you too, more than he’d ever loved anyone else. And the look on your face, that look of utter devotion and awe, like you had stars in your eyes – he wished he could bottle it up inside a jar and keep that look safe forever.

That’s how you’re looking at him now, in your cute little princess lingerie, and your lips are begging to be kissed. Ari can’t stand it any longer, and he grabs you by the back of the neck and pulls you down, pressing his lips on yours in a heady kiss.

“You’ve been waiting for tonight, haven’t you?” He breathes against your lips.

You swallow harshly and nod. Of course you had, the moment he’d texted you this morning telling you to be ready for him at his apartment when he got home. That was obvious code that he was going to ruin you tonight, and the pretty princess costume was just the cherry on top of the cake.

Biting your lip, you shyly untuck his shirt from his pants and lift it up, revealing his toned, hairy abs. God, he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen – with an amazing, buff body that was twice the size of yours. He was bigger than you in every single way possible, and you sigh as your fingers run over the deep ridges of his tanned six pack.

Ari snorts, “Like what you see, princess?”

“Uh huh. You’re so hot.” You blurt out.

“Thank you, baby. Why don’t you give me your panties?”

The way he so casually redirects the conversation has your cheeks feeling hot and your pussy clenching in anticipation. Taking your panties off while straddling his crotch proves to be difficult, but you’re nimble enough to make it work. The lace is wet with your juices and your cheeks heat up even more as you hand your panties to him.

Ari brings the lacy material up to his nose, sniffing in your pretty scent. God, he wanted to be buried with your scent if it was possible. He can’t help but find the gusset, sucking the silk into his mouth and tasting your juices.

“You’re so sweet, princess.” He mutters, before shoving the panties in his pocket.

“I’m all wet, daddy,” you pout, knowing your wetness has seeped over to stain his pants as you sit on top of his crotch.

“Oh yeah?” Ari feigns disinterest, busying himself with another sip of his scotch. “Is your little baby cunt getting needy?”

“Yeah!”

“You want daddy to take care of her? Your little cunt?”

You throb at his words, “Yes, please!”

He makes no move to put his scotch away. “I think I’d rather watch you, princess. You can rub yourself on me to make yourself cum.”

You shudder at how casually he says it, but at the same time bite your lip, “B-But daddy, I feel so empty down there. Need you inside me, pretty please?”

Ari pretends to mull over it, “I don’t know, gorgeous, your baby pussy’s awfully tight. I don’t think I’d even get a finger in.” (That was true, you were super tight, but he could work you open in a matter of minutes. He always did, after all, but he wants you to work for an orgasm tonight).

You grab his hand and push it between your legs, feeling like you’re about to go into heat by how turned on you are. “Y-You could stretch me open, daddy, I-I don’t mind! Just wanna feel you inside me.”

“Maybe later, sweetie,” Ari murmurs, indulgently brushing your hair off your face and pulling your cheek when you pout. Of course, he definitely intended to fill you up real good, fuck both your holes silly with his cock and his tongue and his fingers. But the night was still young, and right now he wanted a show while he enjoyed his drink. “C’mon, baby, it’s Halloween. Even a princess has to work a little to get her treat.”

He picks you up by your waist, placing you on his hairy abs, which are rock hard just like his cock which is still in the confines of his pants.

You grab on to his shoulders to steady yourself, before you start moving. And oh, it feels absolutely heavenly, your quivering pussy rubbing against his hard abs, the hair on his torso catching against your swollen clit and immediately making you moan.

“F-Feels so good, daddy,” you whimper, and it makes Ari smile at how cute you are. How much you love it when he makes you feel good, how you selfishly chase after your own pleasure whenever you can because he knows it’s never felt this good for you before. You don’t have to tell him that he’s the best you’ve ever had – he can see it in your eyes every time.

“Yeah? Is your cute baby cunt getting some relief? You enjoy using your daddy like this?” He mutters lowly, pinching your hip to make you move faster as he takes another sip of his scotch. His cock is incredibly tight still confined to his pants, and he’d have loved for you to grind against his cock instead but he knows he would’ve blown his load because of the friction paired with how hot you look right now.

“You enjoy dressing up like a little princess and giving your daddy a show?” He continues, feeling the beast inside him awaken as you whimper so cutely on top of him. With his fingers gripping your hip tightly, he roughly drags you back and forth over his abs, “That’s right, slutty baby, make a mess all over daddy, you like that, don’t you?”

“Yes!” You cry, getting to that point where everything that leaves your mouth is either a plea or incoherent gibberish and crying. That’s when you get so submissive that there isn’t a single thought in your head, and Ari’s sure he could make you do absolutely anything when you’re in that mindset.

His stomach is wet with your cream, and you’re grinding against him desperately now, and he knows you’ll cum any second because it doesn’t take much to get you to cum. He remembers doing this a lot with you in the early days of the relationship, when he knew for a fact you’d need a lot of prep before you could take his big, fat dick inside your pussy. So he’d made you grind on his torso instead, like how you were doing now, as a sort of practice before the real sex. And it’s like you’d never been pleasured before in your life because you came so quickly, over and over again, squirting all over him and begging for him to put it inside you.

Clearly, nothing had changed in two months.

He downs his scotch before setting the glass aside on his bedside table. Then he licks his lips, hand slipping down between your legs. He spreads your folds and you gasp, rocking your hips faster as you feel more now, your clit rubbing deliciously against his abs.

“C’mon, princess,” he urges, moving you up and down on his abs harder, “make yourself cum, baby, squirt all over daddy like the good little girl I know you can be. Like all good princesses squirt on their daddies. You wanna be a good princess, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do!”

“Say it, then.”

“W-Wanna be a good princess for you, daddy. Wanna be so good!” Your face is glistening with sweat and tears, and you’re working so hard for your release. He knows all he has to do is rub your clit once or twice, or even just press against it and you’d cum. But he wants you to work for it, so he can praise you for it and then reward you for making yourself cum with minimal help from daddy.

“You’re daddy’s sexy little princess,” Ari murmurs lowly, pulling you down by the neck till your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you bite at his skin and cry and moan his name as he talks, “you’re doing such a good job, baby, rubbing that baby cunt all over daddy’s abs. You’re so good for me, baby, so fucking good and I love you so much. Daddy loves you so much, honey. More than anything in the world.”

You squirt all over his stomach, your sweet cream covering ever ridge and dip of his muscular torso. You cry and cry, like how you often do when you’re overwhelmed when orgasming, grabbing at his face and kissing him, and he kisses you back fervently, allowing you to make out with him because he knows how overwhelmed and good you feel.

“That’s such a good girl,” he praises you, rubbing your back as you quiver in his arms, and he can feel your pussy quivering too, “such a good fucking girl, you worked so hard, baby and I’m so proud of you.”

“L-Love you so much, daddy,” you whimper pitifully, your poor tiara finally falling off your head, and Ari wants to chuckle at how spent you look, how exhausted you look from rubbing your pussy on him for a couple of minutes. He reminds himself to get you a bottle of water in a few minutes once you’ve calmed down, because he knows he’ll be keeping you busy for the better part of tonight and he wants you to have the energy for it.

But for now, he’ll let you rest for a few minutes. You snuggle up into his chest, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Ari pours himself another scotch, and lights up his cigar, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke out in your direction.

“Happy Halloween, sweetheart,” he grins wickedly, and you lift your head up slightly to offer him a weak smile. “Now put your tiara back on, princess. The night’s not over yet.”

AKSHDSAJGA WHAT DO YOU THINK???? PLEASE LET ME KNOW THIS WAS EXTREMELY SPONTANEOUS AFNKLAGNSKAL I JUST AM OBSESSED WITH SUGAR DADDY ARI AND HIS ABS BYE.

anyways lemme know what you think and pls do reblog and leave any feedback thank you ily

[whateveriwant]

what about task force 141 always admiring their s/o picture before going on field or when they’re feeling lonely and missing them

Price

Because he's old (fashioned), he carries a standard 4x6in photo of you with him during his deployment

He had the picture developed ages ago – so long, in fact, you thought he'd gotten rid of it many many tours ago (he never would, of course; he even has an extra copy of the negative stowed in a shoebox in the back of your shared closet, just in case)

Every day, he makes sure your face is the first thing he sees when he wakes up, as well as the last thing he looks at before going to sleep (just like he would if he was home with you)

When he's not admiring the photo, he keeps it in the breast pocket of his tac vest directly over his heart

He's folded and unfolded it so many times that it's starting to fade and tear at the seams, showing just how loved it is all these years later

Gaz

I can see him having a locket with a tiny picture of you inside

Just a little circular gold pendant, no bigger than the pad of first finger, which he hangs around his neck right beside his dog tags

He bought a matching one for you (which you wear all the time, regardless of whether he's home or not), the only difference is yours is heart-shaped and has a picture of him inside

Most of the time, he'll keep the locket tucked safely beneath his shirt, but will pull it out and look at it on days he's feeling particularly lonely or homesick

However, sometimes (especially when he's anxious about an upcoming mission), he doesn't even look at the picture inside – just worries the surface of the pendant with his thumb, rubbing at the thin grooves that form the looped letters of your initials

Soap

Similar to Price, he carries a larger picture of you with him – his, however, is a polaroid

You bought him the vintage style camera for his birthday a few years back, and immediately upon unwrapping it, he started snapping a bunch of candid photos of you with it

Despite how unflattering you say you look in them, he thinks you're absolutely gorgeous (after all, that's why he carries multiple with him – his favorite one always on the top of the stack)

If he can get away from the guys during the mission, he often finds himself talking out loud to the photo, speaking as if you're really there listening to him

As much as he loves to study your face, his favorite part of the polaroid is your little note scrawled across the bottom: Any more chins and I'll be using your parachute as a scarf

Ghost

This might be a little controversial but I don't think he'd carry around a physical picture of you

Pictures of you on his phone? Sure. But he's not taking his unencrypted smartphone into the middle of enemy territory, you know?

Instead, I think he carries a little trinket of yours with him – something small, seemingly inconsequential, like a hair tie or one of your favorite bookmarks

You might've noticed some things gone missing here and there, but never realized that he was nabbing them for his own little keepsake

He keeps it hidden away majority of the time, but every now and then when he starts to downward spiral, he'll pull out that token as a reminder of what (or whom) he has waiting for him back home, and it gives him the strength he needs to power through

[angelsluva]

promise - Hamzahthefantastic

💌: fem reader + sfw!

Your name lived in Hamzah's head 24/7. You were always on his mind, It was crazy. He'd do anything for you. You had been revealed to the fans after the long documentary they dropped. Since then, he's always mentioned you.

You brushed makeup onto the apples of your cheeks as you were getting ready to go spend the day with Hamzah. He had texted you prior for you to get ready. You heard the front door open as you slid into your coat.

"Babee" he sang as he noticed you all dolled up. "Wow you look so good honey" he placed his backpack down as he kissed your forehead then your lips. "You ready to go?" he questioned as you nodded.

You both arrived to the Toronto Centre as you walked through out the many shops. You couldn't help but notice a very cute, vintage looking bag through the glass window of 'Coach'. "Like it baby?" he shook your held hand in excitement as you bit your bottom lip, "It's gonna ruin my bank account" you scoffed as he suddenly pulled you into the store, "Hamzah!" you tugged his hand as he grabbed the purse from the shelf "Never say your gonna buy something yourself when I'm here" he huffed as you got immediate butterflies. He went to ask for a newer bag as he swiped his card and made it all yours.

It was always something shopping with Hamzah. He’d always buy you something no matter what. He just loves seeing you happy.

"Babe I can't believe this! I love you!" You shrieked as you held the bag in your hands as his lips curled. He loved seeing you so happy. One of his favorite things to do was giving you things that reminded him of you.

“Of course y/n” he said as he kissed your rosy lips as his whole goal today was to spoil you.

", where else do you want to go?" he hummed as he wrapped his arm around you. You both walked into many stores and came out of them with more and more bags on your hands. You felt a small guilt whenever he did this. Especially when it came to expensive places. “I’m sorry baby, this is all so expensive” you said worryingly. “No baby, don’t worry about the prices. Whatever you want you get, remember that.” He said softly as you blushed in response.

You both ended off the day going to a small park to eat lunch. Your eyes glowed under the sunset as the sun kissed your face so well. His face brightened up seeing you. He knew you were the one from the start. The way you matched his energy with everything, your similar personalities, and the way you were drop dead gorgeous. He never said or thought anything like this since his little elementary school girlfriends but he wanted to be with you forever.

"I'm so glad were able to spend more time together because of the break” he smiled, "me too babe" you leaned your head on his shoulder as his eyes were stuck onto you like glue. He felt so comfortable and confident with you he couldn’t believe he introduced you to his fans.

"I also have a little gift for you" he licked his lips as you stood up from his shoulder, "what? Hamzah you bought so much stuff for us already?" you frowned “here you go worrying again!” He sighed as he placed a hand on your knee. You inhaled and exhaled as he digged in his pocked to take out a small heart shaped box. Your heart dropped to the floor as he opened the small box and pulled out a (gold/silver) promise ring with the most shiniest heart shaped red gem in the middle.

"I wanted to give you this ring as a promise I'll stick with you forever y/n" he smiled as he slipped the ring onto your finger as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Hamzah! I can’t believe you!” You shrieked as you kissed all over his face as he giggled from your soft lips brushing his face. His face was covered in kiss marks as you looked down at the gorgeous rock on your finger.

“Do you like it?” He questioned as he rubbed your back, “I LOVE it baby, thank you so much!” Your eyes sparkled - “I promise to be with you forever too Hamzah.” You added as you sat down on his lap hugging him tightly.

-

I’ll def be posting tomorrow as well but I hope y’all enjoy this small little story <3!

[ckret2]

i am FASCINATED by the little scraps i've heard about bill's uncle. am i allowed to know more about him. and if the answer is no do you have a chapter estimate for when i am

yeah sure, I already made a post on Bill's mom, I've finally got enough material to make a post on Bill's dad.

Bill got his gorgeous eyelashes, warm color scheme, black limbs, and personality from his mom. He got his shape, his brick lines, and his slitted pupil from his dad. His dad's a self-made businessman*! (*His dad got suckered into joining a multi-level marketing scheme and now he makes money by suckering other people into joining the MLM scheme.)

And: his dad has a brother. They're twiiins!

Bill keeps targeting twins. (The Stans, the kids, TBOB says Pyronica's got a twin sister Hydronica...) I imagine Bill's twin obsession is rooted in something close to home.

Because Euclid & Euler's eye split in half mid-development, they have unusually oval-shaped eyes—a common sign of twins. They've been going to an optometrist since they were toddlers to deal with poor eyesight and floaters in their peripheral vision. They've had a mix of surgery, corrective lenses, and medication to narrow their field of view to the area they can see clearly. So when baby Billy said he was seeing "bright white dots" on "the outside of everything," Euclid went aha! He knows exactly what Bill's seeing!

He did not, in fact, know what Bill was seeing.

Bill's parents didn't regularly visit family, but Euler was the one relative they saw most often. He was the first person to snap out of the "haha it sure is funny how Bill can guess when somebody's about to knock on the door" rationalizations to realize that Bill really could see things no one else did.

And since Bill's parents are sort of disasters who think starting a cult is a great get-rich-quick scheme, Euler was one of the most emotionally stable role models in Bill's life. It sure is a good thing that Euler was a constant presence and nothing happened to him during Bill's tender formative years!

"But wait," you say, "you told us that Bill got his shape and slit pupil from his dad. But wouldn't that mean he got genes for a square? And how could he have gotten a slit pupil if that wasn't a genetic trait, but a consequence of an eyeball splitting in half?"

Triangles and slit pupils don't run in Euclid's side of the family. But squares and twins do.

I imagine Bill's twin obsession is rooted in something close to home.

"So Steve exists in your headcanon—?" No. He's a stillbirth his parents pretend doesn't exist. He's a crime Bill committed before he was born. He's the imaginary phantom Bill's parents are searching for when they look at Bill—starting fires, hallucinating, spitting up his medicine—and wonder what he'd be like if he was different. He's a symbol representing a source of unconditional love and support that Bill deserved and needed, but never had. Steve's all those things—but he doesn't and never has existed.

And there at last is my Euclid headcanons post. If y'all are interested & didn't see it, here's my Scalene headcanons post! And some headcanons about shape twins that still basically work post-TBOB, we just know now that Euclideans don't need a line and a polygon to reproduce.

(95% of my headcanons about Bill's dad & uncle are pre-TBOB. The only difference is that I originally designed Euclid & Euler as green trapezoids that had split from a hexagon. Trapezoids so that Bill and his dad could do this, green so that Bill's dad could be the original color Bill was designed as before the Gravity Falls crew made him yellow & so that his family could be money-colored: gold-colored Bill & mom, dollar-bill-colored dad.)

(After TBOB/TINAWDC revealed his dad's a triangle and either red or blue, I decided to make the twins blue-green (because I wanted to keep in that "bill's original color scheme" reference) and finagle it so that Euler could still be a trapezoid; after Pyramid Steve came out, I suddenly had a really good thematic reason to make them blue-green. I'd been playing with the idea of making Bill a shoulda-beena twin, Steve finalized that decision by giving me a physical design that could tie into Bill's extended family.)

[redeemingvillains]

how mattheo would love you in every love language ♡

G I F T S

Mattheo wasn't proud of where his family money came from; in fact, most people didn't even know he was wealthy as he walked around in frayed robes and old hoodies.

But he l o v e d being able to spoil you.

It wasn't just about how expensive the gifts were...

...I mean some of it was (looking at you, diamond earrings for Christmas, the 16k gold 'M' around your neck, your new Louis Vuitton and the trip to Italy you took over fall break).

But the gifts that meant the most to you had nothing to do with what they cost: his favorite band t-shirt, worn and washed so many times it was heavenly soft, or the playlist he randomly texted you one day with every song that made him think of you.

Better yet were the smallest things that let you know you had been on his mind, like when he grabbed you extra dessert at dinner and brought it to you in the library while you were studying, or the flowers that showed up the morning of your big exam.

This boy lived to shower you every way he knew how.

W O R D S of affirmation

Mattheo is so cheeky and such a goofball, honestly.

He's quick with a joke, and his signature smirk, but he chooses his words very carefully around you and doesn't throw around empty compliments.

So, when he did speak up, you knew it was important.

You craaaveeed his praise and feedback, so when he picked you up for your first date and he didn't immediately say anything about your outfit, you were lowkey devastated.

But when you were walking hand in hand back to the castle after a perfect evening in Hogsmeade and he pulled you into his side and whispered "you are unbelievably gorgeous, I can't keep my eyes off of you" it was so much more sincere and meaningful.

(After that, you were his hook, line + sinker).

Not everything he'd say was about your looks. He would brag about you and gas you up to his friends, complimenting your intelligence, your kindness, your hard work.

"You know YN could have been a model? Yeah, they asked her and she said she wanted to focus on her studies, fucking brains and beauty that one."

And trust this carried over into the bedroom, the one place he went absolutely overboard, whispering every single thing you wanted to hear, knowing how crazy it drove you.

Quality T I M E

Something that was different with Mattheo right from the start is that you were always a priority to him.

Boys asked to hang out when you two already had plans? Too bad.

In big ways and little ways it was like he created moments to spend time together.

He'd go out of his way to walk you to every class, even though it made him late for all of his.

"And miss the chance to show off my girl to the whole school? Pass."

The way he'd lay on your bed as you did your nighttime skincare routine, or join you in the library to study.

(Well, you studied potions and he studied you).

He had a permanent seat next to you at every meal.

He'd only had to shove Pansy, then Draco, then Theo aside so many times before they got the hint, all shifting automatically when he came to join you now.

He would look for literally any excuse to be near you, to be in your orbit.

Acts of S E R V I C E

The way this boy would do literally anything for you. A n y t h i n g.

On anyone else, it would look foolish the way he ran after you like a schoolboy, but he cherished you like his queen.

Putting his jacket over puddles so you didn't have to step on them.

Rushing ahead of you to open every door.

Kneeling down to tie your shoe.

One fifth year once had the audacity to say something about it.

The next day he had a black eye.

Date nights? Organized, sorted, planned.

You basically never had to lift a finger again, you wanted for nothing.

He'd carry your books, really carry anything for you (your bag, your jacket, your wand, your water bottle).

And when he couldn't be there to walk you to class or carry your books, trust there were two Slytherin first years waiting for you to do it for him.

You were Riddle's Princess after all, and everyone knew it

Physical T O U C H

His hands. On you. All. The. Time.

Rubbing your thigh, his fingers tangling in yours or twirling your hair. A hand at your back in the hallways or grasping you firmly to him in larger crowds.

King of Casual Dominance™️

Why would you sit in a chair when his lap is open and waiting for you?

His head on your lap whenever possible so you could run your fingers through his chestnut curls.

And, conversely, not knowing what the fuck to do with his hands when you weren't around; his leg would bounce anxiously, his hands would fidget, messing with his tie, tapping on his desk, fiddling and twitching to feel your soft skin.

Oh and the way this boy kissed you...

In the morning. In the evening. On the stairs. In bed. Before Quidditch practice. In the middle of breakfast. During class. He did not give a single fuck who was around or what the circumstances were.

You're literally standing outside of transfiguration, two feet in front of McGonagall and his lips are warm and running over yours like he's going off to war. "That's enough Mr. Riddle!" her shrill voice would ring out.

(He'd ignore her).

And you'd slip past her a full minute later with rosy cheeks, trying to right your lipgloss, a shy smile on your face as you avoided eye contact with her.

taglist: @kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf, @sleepiibunniiii, @darlingshecried, @girllblogging777, @foivetimesacharm, @clar2aa, @broadwaybaby123, @slytherinscreamqueen

[nyao-mi]

NOT MY ASTARION BRAIN ROT CONTINUING CUS LIKE i just got the scene where he literally says he misses seeing his face and that like he wishes he knew what he looked like and i??? WANTED SO BADLY FOR IT TO BE AN OPTION TO DRAW HIM

LIKE IMAGINE STARING AT HIM ACROSS THE BONFIRE, watching the way the light dances across his pale skin. youve been through hard times and one of the things you've learned to get through it was to draw

at first, you loathed the fact that you had to paint rich people for mere couple pieces of gold when you knew your art was worth more than that. you loathed even more that they'd upturn their posh noses at you and scoff when, truly, they knew what a treasure your art was.

now, seeing astarion, the way his white hair seemed to almost form a halo around his head, reflecting the moonbeams that graced his body, watching as he crossed his legs and meditated; you knew that you didn't regret a single second of the trials and tribulations that led you to this point.

you could finally put this agonizing skill to use. you could draw him.

and so you scrounged up some paper, an ink well, a quill; all things you'd pocketed during your adventures with the rather willful vampire.

you sat there, nib of the quill scratching against the parchment.

your art was nothing compared to the paintings you'd done before; these were mere lines and ink blots. you wished you could truly show him how beautiful he was through water color or pastels. instead, trapped in a land you barely knew, all you could do for him was this.

he had his eyes closed, of course, so you drew them from memory. strikingly red, like rubies, like blood. you didn't forget his crow's feet; you loved the way they wrinkled when he laughed. you shaped his lips, soft but rough from years of bite and chew, and formed it into his infamous mischievous grin.

his hair always seemed unruly but, drawing it now, it felt like drawing gorgeous chaos; there was an order to it, the way the bangs fell across his forehead, the way the sides feathered in front of his ears and curled behind them.

when you stopped, you realised you'd drawn him over and over, across several pieces of parchment.

the way he frowned and his fangs would glance across his lips. the way he'd look confused and his eyebrows would furrow. the way he'd look longingly at the stars, mind distant and eyes almost empty, like he'd made so many wishes that were never granted by the cosmos.

you never liked tooting your own horn but you felt like you truly captured him.

so, you took your pieces of paper, all drawings of him, dozens of them, small and sketchy; you took it all and you sat beside him and spread them out in front of you.

it took him a second to realise you were there. he'd been letting his guard down recently, especially when you were on watch duty, and it took you laying your head across his shoulder for his eyes to flutter open.

he opened his mouth, like there had almost been a retort slipping off his tongue, but the sight of your drawings stopped him.

he let out a ragged breath, eyes flickering across all of them. his clawed hands hovered in the air, trembling, as if taking a hold of the drawings would make them crumble under his touch.

and perhaps, in his head, he really believed they would.

'darling,' he'd call you, his voice wet with unshed tears 'what's all of this?'

of course he'd still joke. it was how he coped with things. he joked to hide how he truly felt and, of course, you were always there to understand.

'it's you,' you answered a matter-of-factly, as if you hadn't just turned this vampires world upside down 'its you the way i see you.'

and that's what makes him crack. because maybe, since you were the one that drew all of it, you hadn't noticed. but he noticed.

he noticed all the love and devotion you spilled across the page. every single detail, every single stroke, it was all from love.

and as someone who had never been on the receiving end of it, astarion cracked and he hid his face into your neck and he cried.

they were soft sobs, almost unnoticeable. but he cried nonetheless.

he cried for his past that he'd lost under his sadistic master, he cried for his difficult present that seemed impossible to escape, and he cried for this hopeful future you seemed to lay out in front of him.

he cried because he didn't realise that he had this much hope left inside of him. because he didn't know what else to do in the face of your devotion.

you just sat there, humming and rubbing his back, ignoring the way his arm wrapped around your waist, claws digging into your skin as if you'd disappear in front of him if he didn't hold on to you as tightly as possible.