#spoiled reader

[cameronsbabydoll]

you’re half-undressed, gold bracelets still on, your matching la perla bra pulled down just enough for him to mouth over the lace.

“look at you,” he mutters, biting at the strap as his hand trails up your thigh. “you were made for this, weren’t you? daddy’s spoiled little princess… just for me.”

he’s still got his watch on. rolex flashing every time his fingers slip between your thighs like he’s not even trying to hide how much money he has. and god, you hate how hot that is. he fucks you like it’s an art form—like performance and power and punishment all rolled into one.

“come on, baby,” he whispers against your neck. “be a good girl for me—show me how grateful you are to be fucked by someone in your league.”

he holds your wrists over your head with one hand and uses the other to pin your hips down, just so he can watch your perfect manicure curl into the sheets. he doesn’t care that the pillowcases are silk—he’ll buy more. he cares that you’re crying out his name like it means something. like it’s yours to say.

[rafeyssugar]

CHERRY GLOSS AND CIGARETTES

bf!rafe cameron x bimbo reader

she walked like sin on satin heels. bubblegum gloss, glitter on her lids, and that tiny pink mini barely covering her ass. everything about her said trouble, but rafe? he was the kind of boy who begged for it.

she twirled her gum around her finger like it was a cigarette and rafe cameron swore she was made in a lab. a doll. a daydream. a walking heart attack in heels that clicked when she walked toward him, always toward him.

“hi baby,” she purred, soft and sweet like cotton candy melting on the tongue.

he was leaning against his truck, hands shoved in his pockets, but the second she got close, all that fake nonchalance went out the window. she was wearing his varsity jacket over her outfit. god, she looked like a fantasy — his fantasy.

“you wearin’ that just to kill me?” he asked, voice low, gravelly, eyes drinking her in like she was his favorite kind of poison.

“no,” she said, giggling. “but if i did, would you die happy?”

rafe smirked, stepped forward, cupped her cheeks in those big, rough hands and tilted her head back like she was something precious. “i’d die fuckin’ euphoric, princess.”

she gasped all dramatic, plush lips parted like she was in one of those old romance films. “you’re soooo obsessed with me.”

“can you blame me?” he murmured, eyes flicking down to her lips. “look at you. you’re like... the end of the world.”

she blinked up at him, lashes thick and fake and flirty. “i don’t even know what that means.”

he laughed. soft. stupid. completely enchanted. “means you’d be the last thing i’d wanna see before the apocalypse.”

she tilted her head, letting that process with her glossed-up, bubble-brain pout. then she grinned like sunshine. “aww, baby, that’s soooo sweet.”

rafe kissed her like a man possessed. slow and messy and full of hunger. her gum got caught between their tongues, but she didn’t care. she moaned into it, fingers tangled in his golden hair, hips bumping into his, all heat and perfume and pink-sugar chaos.

he pressed her up against the truck door, his jacket falling off her shoulders, but she didn’t fix it. just kept looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“you smell like strawberries,” he muttered, burying his nose in her neck. “you’re gonna ruin me.”

“duh,” she said, giggling. “that’s, like, the plan.”

he groaned, head thudding against her shoulder. “you have no idea what you do to me.”

she bit her lip. “i do. that’s why i wear the little skirts.”

he looked down at her legs — long, smooth, tan, perfect — and nearly whined. she hooked one over his thigh, pouting up at him.

“you gonna take me to the diner or just keep kissing me till i’m dizzy?”

“both,” he said, without a beat. “diner first. dizzy later. maybe both at once.”

the neon motel sign flickered outside like a dirty promise. room 7 smelled like smoke and lemon cleaner, but rafe couldn’t care less.

not with her sitting on the edge of the bed in her thigh-high socks and panties, reapplying her gloss like they weren’t about to ruin the room.

“you look like a dream,” he muttered, kicking off his boots.

“i am a dream,” she said, smacking her lips. “and you’re so lucky i picked you to have me.”

“i’d thank god if i thought he had anything to do with it,” he murmured, crawling between her legs. “but i know you’re way too good for heaven.”

she giggled, squealed when he grabbed her thighs and dragged her closer.

“careful! i just did my nails.”

“then you better hold onto the headboard, baby,” he growled, yanking her panties down with his teeth, “cause i’m about to make you forget your name.”

she gasped, tossed her head back, eyes all heavy-lidded and pretty while he buried his face between her thighs. one hand in his hair, the other clawing at the sheets, high-pitched moans falling from her lips like a pop song stuck on repeat.

“rafe— ohmygod, rafe—”

he hummed against her, grinning, totally feral. “say it again.”

“rafe,” she whined, “baby, baby, please.”

he pulled back just long enough to look up at her, lips shiny with her gloss and her. “you look so fuckin’ pretty like this. all messy for me.”

she blinked down at him, face flushed, hair a mess, and god, he wanted to take a picture. frame it. tattoo it on his chest.

“come here,” she whispered.

he climbed up over her, hand slipping under her bra, squeezing just to make her gasp. she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him like she owned him — which she did.

he slid in slow, thick and deep, both of them moaning into each other’s mouths.

“god,” he hissed, “you’re so— tight— fuck—”

“told you i was a dream,” she whispered, biting his lip. “don’t wake up, baby.”

he laughed. “never could.”

they moved together like it was choreography. like a vintage tape left on repeat — her moaning his name, rafe whispering mine, mine, mine in her ear, her pink nails scratching down his back, her lips parted just enough to look obscene.

when she came, it was loud and pretty and perfect. when he did, he swore he saw stars.

after, she laid on his chest, tracing hearts on his skin.

“you’re, like, so obsessed with me,” she mumbled, yawning.

“you don’t even know the half of it,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.

and when she fell asleep, lips parted, cheeks pink, hair a mess, rafe just stared at her like she was everything. because to him? she was.

and he'd burn the world down just to keep her soft and spoiled and smiling like that.

taking requests !!

[yutxsgf]

Rich!Megumi, who's head over heels for you, waiting impatiently around the store, as stiff as a stature as his eyes occasionally flit over the clock. But he wouldn't dare to rush your shopping time.

Rich!Megumi, who doesn't even flinch at the large amount of zeroes that slip out of the cashier's mouth, already pulling out his card to swipe it.

Rich!Megumi, who pays for anything and everything for you, despite wanting to go home already. Hating shopping, down on his knees for you.

Rich!Megumi, who has you bent over on the luxury coffee table within his empty mansion, everything scattered off of the table and long forgotten as he ruts his cock into your pretty cunt.

Rich!Megumi, who makes you tell him everything you want to get on your next shopping spree.

Rich!Megumi, who relishes in the way your walls flutter around his dick when he says he'll buy you the entire world.

Rich!Megumi, who holds your hand, raising it up so he can admire your newly done nails after you asked ever so weakly if he liked them.

“..Yeah. They're nice.”

[misssilversunny]

Ok wait i just had a funny idea

Why stop at just a yandere batfamily? Why not all of Gotham?

Like, imagine Bane kidnapping you, calling you his "firefly" or whatever because you're a fleeting light in the darkness or something, and you're more guarded than the actual thing he stole.

And despite that, Poison Ivy manages to nab you, her "little rose", while Bane is busy dealing with Batman. She takes you back to her apartment, where you greet the plants you recognize and introduce yourself to the new ones (There aren't many, you were here 3 months ago).

At some point you take a breath of fresh air through an open window, and Scarecrow grabs you, taking you to his lair, into a room which is also pumped with a special strain of fear gas that makes you cling to him for safety.

And then, shock of all shocks, the one and only, motherfucking Joker snatches you from the lair, leaving behind a dummy for Scarecrow to find. Unlike the others, Joker's obsession is in the fact that everyone else is obsessed with you. He finds it hysterical how one person can have all of Gotham in a spin!

Eventually, the Batfam grabs Reader from the Joker, since he's not actually obsessed so he has them the least guarded, maybe a short conversation with Batman, but even Joker knows he's in water too hot to joke about severe injuries, especially since he doesn't know if Red Hood is nearby.

Batman might not kill, but he cannot guarantee that anyone else wouldn't if he killed their favorite person, and he does not have the influence where he could get away with that.

You get returned to your nice cage room in the manor, where the Batfamily scolds you yet again for another failed escape attempt trip outside getting you shipped around Gotham for weeks!

At this point, you're pretty sure you not only can't leave, but also any attempts at a normal life are pointless. You mostly do this because humans are animals and animals need enrichment, and no, the cycle of games/quality time they're giving you are not a suitable replacement for touching grass and seeing new faces.

Even the brief moments of time between kidnappings, the short moments of normalcy that the other villains, the other heroes and vigilantes give you, are a welcome change of pace.

Bonus points if it's literally everyone in neighboring cities/Justice League, so Superman finds you and you're just like "Well shit" because now you're taken to his house, maybe his parents' farm, and you're kept there until someone catches on that Clark has you.

Also if you tack this onto Spoiled!Reader, this becomes infinitely funnier because In my mind I'm treating that AU as 90% a crack/lighthearted fic, and another thing is I think of them as being ~12 sometimes, so it's the entirety of Gotham fighting over a middle schooler.

If it's an adult Reader, it's more of a "This is fine" as they are carted from villain to villain to vigilante to hero because their family literally has a fan club for them, so their perception of what is "normal" levels of interest is severely skewed.

If you want to go for the Neglected!Reader, then it would be really interesting for them to try and figure out where is a good level of "interested in your hobbies", and doubts whether they're so uncomfortable because they're actually too invested in their day to day life, or if it's because they were neglected for so long that any interest feels overwhelming.

Btw all asks about Spoiled!Reader and this Reader are welcome!

[catcze]

No bcs the way Sylus would never ever let you pay for anything…..one time, you try to pay discretely during dinner when you think he’s not looking ( bc you wanna pay for something !! It's not like you're broke, after all, and you don't want it to seem like you're only after him for his black card ) and he just. Snatches the bill away from you !! Before you can even blink !! And when you look at him, his brow is raised and there's a smug, playful smirk on his face— and a silent 'Really, sweetie?' hangs in the air, like he can't believe his eyes. And before you can even protest, he's already handing the bill —with his card in it— back to the waitstaff.

"Better luck next time," Sylus says, shooting you a smirk, knowing full well he's not gonna let you pay next time, either.

[teddybeartoji]

megumi NEEDS you to pay attention to him at all times but he won't ask for it bc fuck that but if you haven't 'bothered' him in like an hour he's huffing and puffing and stomping his foot. he doesn't call or text, he just shows up at your place and then stares at you because he refuses to tell you what's wrong either.

but you can tell he's clingier than usual. he joins you on your bed/couch and he sits a bit closer than usual, his thigh pressed against yours as he sinks into the pillows. he toys with the hem of your (his) shirt and stares at you like a puppy – he thinks he's being tough but you read him like an open book, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips when you turn to steal a glance at him.

"did you miss me, megumi?"

he hates how teasing your tone is.

it's making him want to sink even deeper, to hide from your curious eyes. he knows he can't though – as stoic and brooding he wants to be, around you he's laid bare no matter whether he likes it or not.

"...yes."

and he loathes the way your lips curl up and the way your eyes lit up.

awful, awful, awful – you're awful for him. there's a weird feeling in his stomach and he feels sick, his hands are starting to get clammy and it's all just so strange. how can a person have such a big effect on him? why is he losing control over his own body at the sight of your smile?

the honeyed coo that spills from your lips is almost enough to kill him off. a dark shade of pink takes over his whole face and the tips of his ears burn and everything gets even worse when you reach out and cradle his jaw like he's a frail little thing. you press your lips against his in a sweet, gentle kiss but pull away in the same breath just to watch him chase after you.

you knew he would.

cute.

"i'm sorry for neglecting you, baby."

megumi pushes his head back into the pillows with a grumble and throws a hand over his face in a pathetic attempt of saving himself. he feels you rest your hand on his stomach and it's heavy, it's so heavy, he feels like he can't even breathe properly around you.

"whatever."

laughter bubbles from your throat and megumi thinks about physically giving you his heart. what the hell is happening to him? what kind of a magic spell do you have him under?

but it's not like he's really complaining, now is he? he'll pout and he'll sulk and he'll tell you to stop being so lovey-dovey but everybody knows he likes it.

everybody.

everybody can see how much he wants your attention, how much he wants you to baby him. he wouldn't ever admit it, not even if he had a gun to his head, but it's clear as day.

his fingers ghost over yours in a silent plea and you decide to put him put of his misery by snaking your arms around his middle and taking your place by his side. you rest your head on his shoulder and chuckle at the sigh of relief he lets out.

"better?"

"mhmm."

[willaminareads]

PERFUME

mean!rafe x spoiled!reader

he slams the car door like it personally pissed him off. no hello. no compliment. just the growl of the engine and his jaw clenched like he’s grinding diamonds between his teeth.

you, perched pretty in the passenger seat in a soft pastel pink set and glossy lips, blink at him.

“hi to you too,” you say gently, trying to keep it light, even as your eye twitches.

he doesn’t look at you. just mutters, “seatbelt.”

you click it in, still hopeful. “well, this is cozy... i missed your grumpy radio silence.”

“jesus,” he mutters under his breath.

your lips press into a thin line. okay. asshole.

you try again a few minutes later. “so… where are we going? you didn’t say.”

“does it fucking matter?” he bites out.

your hand curls into a fist in your lap, voice wobbling just slightly. “i was just asking.”

silence.

he drums his fingers against the wheel like it annoys him just to have hands. takes a turn too fast. your perfume fills the car and he doesn’t say a damn word about it, even though he always notices. always makes some cocky remark like, “perfume’s doing all that manipulative shit again...” not today.

you stay quiet the rest of the ride, stomach tight, heart sinking.

୨♡୧

at his place, you follow him in like a damn ghost — still trying. you sit on the edge of the bed while he yanks off his hoodie and flings it across the room.

“you’ve been quiet,” he says suddenly.

you blink. “you’ve been mean.”

he looks at you. “i’ve had a shit day, y/n.”

“i know,” you say, voice soft but starting to sting. “and i’ve been nothing but sweet to you. but you don’t get to treat me like shit just because you’re in a mood.”

he rolls his eyes. “jesus, everything with you is a thing.”

your jaw drops slightly. “excuse me?!”

“you always need a reaction. a compliment. a fucking thank-you. you can’t just exist without needing attention every second.”

that’s it.

you stand up fast, voice sharp and shaking. “well sorry for expecting a little effort from my boyfriend. and you know what? i do need attention. i’m prissy and i’m spoiled and you fucking knew that when you begged for me in the first place!”

rafe doesn’t move. his arms cross, eyes narrow, mouth tight — like he’s daring you to keep going. but he doesn’t say what he should’ve.

you grab your purse off the dresser, chest heaving. “i’m going home.”

but before you can reach the door, his voice, quiet and rough, cuts through the tension. “don’t go.”

you turn halfway, arms folded across your chest like armor. “why not? so you can keep snapping at me for breathing?”

he looks at you. the gloss on your lips. your perfectly styled hair. the way your stupid little floral cardigan slips off one shoulder like it’s trying to break him.

he steps forward and grabs your wrist, not rough, but firm. “i had a bad day,” he says again, a little softer this time. “but you’re the only part of it that wasn���t completely fucked.”

you blink.

you exhale shakily, stepping into him, pressing your forehead against his chest. “you suck,” you whisper.

he smirks slightly, finally wrapping his arms around you. “yeah. i know.”

[shotmrmiller]

military issued wife but you didn't know that using the "dating app" your friend brought up once in idle talk would end with you in an office with a (signed) marriage license on the desk, actively not looking at your 'husband', the burly lummox with a skull mask who's dwarfing the chair he can barely fit in.

you'd thought it'd be like tinder. a potential dating site. as in messaging on the app, getting to know each other, exchanging personal numbers before going on a date. not marriage. not opening your front door expecting it to be your door dasher and instead it's him with a rucksack in one hand and duffel in the other.

he'd looked down his thick nose at you, grunted a quiet, "not bad", and pushed past as if you were a swinging door to a saloon. what the fuck had he been doing there? you'd only spoken a couple of times with him and left on read for the some of it. you'd chosen to move on, try to match with someone else but the app had stopped working (you couldn't swipe right or left anymore) so you'd just put it on the back burner. you had better things to worry about than another disappointment of a man then.

except now said disappointment of a overly large man is taking up most of the couch and his legs aren't even all that far apart. and he's at your house. the house you'd never sent him the address to. as a matter of fact, you'd received a text from an unknown number earlier that had said someone would be home in a few. you'd ignored it thinking it was a wrong number situation but now you're sure it was him. how he got your phone number is also a mystery.

you'd tried to argue. to threaten him with the cops. to get him out and away, far fucking away, but he'd only scooped you up and let you pelt his broad back with your fists. chuckled low in his throat while he smacked your arse to keep still. "i'd hate to drop m'wife."

whatever fight you had he ate right out of you with the heels of your feet digging into the large curve of his shoulders and his hands curled around the back of your thighs. maybe it's because it'd been a while but he'd played your body like an instrument and had you bucking your hips against his tongue, slick coating his face in minutes. (your cheeks burn furiously hot when you think back on what he'd said then. "tight little thing 'nd you've only taken my two fingers." it's flattering, sue you.)

he'd lapped at your sodden cunt until you had overstimulation clumping your lashes together, inner thighs tender from the bristles of his shorn hair and unshaven jaw, your palm on the crown of his head having both pulled him to you and pushed him away.

and then he'd wiped your release with the back of his hand, thumbed the swollen flesh of your bottom lip and rumbled that it's time for bed.

which eventually led to you being here. in front of a man he calls Price, a marriage certificate unlike any you've ever glanced upon, a large gloved hand curled snugly around your leg, fingers grazing a little too close to where he'd left aching and swollen just yesterday.

you're reading the terms and conditions of anything from here on forward. even the fine print.

and then soap comes around and plants a seed in his head of him planting a seed in you :/ at least you can tell your nosy ass aunt that at least you've got a man while she's on her 4th divorce on thanksgiving 💅🏼

[pyraomen]

𐙚⋆.˚ 𝒀𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝑩𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 , elijah moore.

𝑺𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─── after leaving chicago with mob money, smoke and stack open up their own juke joint in the mississippi delta. when cash starts running low, they call on a favor from an old friend. that same favor came with a price, and now smoke’s new job is to protect one thing mr. laveau loves most, his daughter.

꒰ bodyguard elijah “smoke” moore x spoiled!black female reader. time setting can be interpreted by you, profanity used, sexual tension, suggestive content, criminal themes, power dynamic, older!smoke, younger!reader — very much legal 21 and above, dominant!smoke, brat!reader, light possessiveness. ꒱

the summer heat was evident in the backroom of the juke joint, the air heavy with the remainder of last night’s activities. smoke and stack sat at a small table, peeling apart stacks of crumpled bills from the register. business was decent, couldn’t complain, but not nearly enough to keep up with the promises they made after skipping town with pockets full of mob money.

after hitting both the irish and italian mobs in chicago, they hightailed back down south with blood on their hands and a vision of owning something that was theirs. the juke joint was supposed to be that vision. but when the profits didn’t match the heat they were under, they reached out to an old acquaintance, mr. laveau.

mr. laveau was cut from the same cloth as any other black man, but he made a name for himself in the mississippi delta. people didn’t go to him unless they really needed to. still even with all the power he possessed. he couldn’t protect his daughter from everything, so he fronted smoke and stack a loan with one simple string attached — one of them would serve as his daughter’s personal bodyguard and that duty fell onto smoke.

“ain’t you supposed to be picking up lil miss right now?” stack asked, raising an eyebrow as he skimmed through the cash. smoke sucked his teeth and let out a low hiss, already irritated. “damn,” he muttered, pushing back from the table. “finish countin this for me, and don’t fuck up. you know damn well yo ass can’t count past ten without usin your fingers.” he pointed a serious finger in stack’s direction.

stack looked up, insulted. “nigga i can count the hell.” smoke didn’t bother arguing. he was already on his feet, grabbing his keys off the hook near the door. “be safe,” stack called after him. smoke nodded once, “always.”

by the time smoke made it across town to [ꪆৎ]’s house, the sun had started to set. his mind was tangled in thoughts of how to make it up to the girl, how to soften her disappointment, how to explain without sounding like he was making excuses.

he hated being late, especially with her. she wasn’t just some job or favor owed anymore. no, she was something else entirely. something that gnawed at him in his quiet moments and pulled at him more than he cared to admit.

the tires crunched over gravel as he pulled up to the laveau residence. the house stood tall and proud, just like the man who built it — gated, guarded, protected. he adjusted the collar of his shirt, wiped the sweat from his brow, and approached the front door like he had serious debt to pay.

the door swung open before he could knock, and there she was. standing there in dim lighting, arms crossed, lips pursed in a pout that could get her anything she wanted. the dress she wore was the color of warm strawberry cream, soft pink with a delicate texture. it hugged her body with purpose, the corset bodice sculpting her waist and lifting her chest just right, while the skirt flared out.

smoke leaned against the doorway, his eyes trailing down the length of her legs. those soft, thick thighs he remembered tracing with his eyes, countless of times, distracted.

he remembered when she first tried that dress on in the boutique, standing barefoot on the carpet, indecisive, per usual, with two different options in hand. she had walked out the dressing room twirling, asking him, “this one… or the other one with the slit?” and his only response was to toss both on the counter and pull out his wallet.

now, here she was standing in front on him. wearing the one she’d picked for the day, looking too fine and too proud for her own good. “you’re late,” [ꪆৎ] said, voice soft, but the pout on her lips and the disappointment laced in her tone cut deeper than anything loud ever could. smoke blinked, shoulders tightening as he looked at her. “i know,” he sighed, eyes softening with guilt. “i’m sorry, miss.”

[ꪆৎ] didn’t move. she just stared at him, slow-blinking like she was deciding whether or not to slam the door in his face. she wouldn’t. he knew that, but the possibility was still there.

“pa already left,” she said, finally stepping aside to let him in. “told me not to wait, but i did anyway.” smoke stepped inside, letting the cool air hit him, but it didn’t do much to ease the warmth crawling up his neck.

“i appreciate you waitin”, he said, glancing down at her again, the way her thighs brushed together as she turned, her scent lingering in the air — a hint of vanilla and something fruity he couldn’t put his finger on. “you look… real beautiful.”

[ꪆৎ] scoffed, soft but pointed, her back to him now as she reached for her small purse on the foyer table. “you only sayin that cause you late.” “i’m sayin it cause it’s true,” he replied, voice low, watching her from the corner of his eye. “and i apologize, should of been here earlier.”

she waved her hand, dismissing his apology. “you ain’t never been late before,” she said, stopping at the mirror near the door to check her makeup. she shook her head, “not this late.” smoke sighed, “we had a long night at the joint. stack was draggin his feet countin.” she turned toward him, giving him that look. the one that made his chest tighten and his mouth go quiet. “you should’ve left earlier. you know how my daddy feels about being on time.”

smoke nodded, taking the weight of her words. he stepped forward, just a little closer than polite. “i ain’t worried about what your daddy thinks,” he said. “i’m worried bout how you lookin at me right now.”

she tilted her head, arms folding once more across her chest — drawing the dress tight across her bust, the top straining dangerously close to slipping down the soft swell of her breasts. the motion was unintentional, but it still left an affect on him.

“and how’s that?” she asked, one brow raised, her voice laced with challenge. “like you wanna be mad,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to her chest before meeting hers again. “but you miss me just a little.”

her lips twitched, the pout threatening to soften. “i don’t miss you,” she said, turning to open the front door, but her voice had gone soft again, stinkingly sweet. “i just hate waiting.” smoke followed her out, his hand brushing the small of her back, lingering longer than he should’ve. the fabric was soft, but her skin beneath it was softer. “then i’ll make sure you don’t have to wait next time,” he said.

[ꪆৎ] glanced at him from the corner of her eye, “you better mean that, smoke.” he opened the passenger door for her, holding it with that quiet kind of care that said everything he couldn’t. “i do,” he said simply. and he meant it.

she sat into the passenger seat without a word, her legs crossing slow, deliberate. smoke rounded the hood, settling behind the wheel and starting the engine, but he didn’t pull off just yet. silence settled for a beat too long before she spoke.

“you know you don’t have to call me ‘miss,’ right?” her voice was soft but direct, eyes fixed ahead through the windshield, hands resting in her lap.

smoke glanced at her, the corner of his mouth tugging up. “and you don’t have to call me smoke.” that made her turn. just a little. enough to look at him from under her lashes, a faint smile threatening the edge of her lips. “well… i don’t know what else to call you,” she said, half teasing, half serious.

he shrugged, shifting the car into gear. “you’ll figure it out. i’m sure you got all kinds of names for me in that pretty little head.” she let out a quiet laugh, turning back toward the window, but the tension eased, for now.

“you were supposed to take me shopping,” she reminded him. “i had half the boutiques in town holding things”, a frown showed on her face. “i know,” he nodded, making the first turn onto the road. “and we still are. just got a little sidetracked.”

“you always got an excuse,” she huffed, crossing her legs slow like she wanted to be seen. knowing good and well her dress was sliding higher with every movement, showing more of those soft thighs he could never ignore.

smoke glanced at her, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, his grip tightening slightly on the wheel. he knew her game. she wanted a reaction out of him, but he wasn’t the type to let her get her way just yet.

he cut his glance from her to focus on the rode. “you gon keep actin like that, or you gon let me make it up to you?”, he asked, voice low, laced with warning to check her attitude. she didn’t answer right away, just smirked to herself, fingers toying with the strap of her purse. “you lucky i’m still in the mood to let you spend money on me,” she said sweetly, like she hadn’t just tested his patience on purpose.

“not doin it cause i’m lucky,” he muttered, giving her another look, longer this time, letting his gaze linger on the fat of her thighs. “i’m doin it cause you deserve it. even when you sitting in my car with this fake pissy attitude.”

she didn’t say anything to that, just pressed her lips together, fighting a knowing smile, and turned to look out the window. that told smoke everything he needed to know. the rest of the ride hummed with quiet tension. not awkward, just thick. like both of them had more to say but neither one wanted to be the first to cave.

they pulled up to a boutique tucked between a flower shop and a record store, one of those high-end spots with blacked-out windows and gold-painted lettering that barely needed to advertise. everyone already knew who it catered to.

smoke killed the engine and turned to look at her, but she was already unbuckling her seatbelt, hand poised on the handle like she didn’t need him. still, he got out first and came around, opening her door like he always did. a gentleman, no matter her mood.

she hesitated for a second, just enough to make a point, then placed her hand in his. her fingers slid into his palm like they belonged there, soft and warm, with that quiet kind of confidence that always knocked him a little off balance.

smoke steadied her as she stepped out of the car, slow and smooth like she knew he was watching. the second she rose to her full height, her perfume hit him again. it wrapped around him thick, curling low in his gut and settling somewhere behind his zipper.

he clenched his jaw, eyes flicking away too late. the soft bounce of her body, the way her dress clung when she moved. every step she took made his self-control slip just a little more. his pants had already begun to tighten, his bulge pressing uncomfortable and obvious against his slacks, the effect of just being near her. and the worst part? she knew.

the way her gaze dropped for a second, and the slow curve of her smirk afterward? she didn’t need to say a damn thing.

no cars were in sight. the boutique was empty, just like it always was when she came. the owner knew better than to have customers hanging around when [ꪆৎ] laveau was in. she liked to browse in peace, and with her last name, peace was something folks were quick to make space for.

just as they crossed the threshold, smoke held the door open for her. “you gon behave in here?” [ꪆৎ] scoffed, brushing past him with a toss of her curls, hips swaying with purpose. “that depends. you gon show up on time next time?” her tone laced with sharpness. then she paused, just long enough to glance back at him.

“i ain’t no child,” she added, eyes narrowing slightly. “and i damn sure ain’t stack, so don’t talk to me like i am.” he just stood there for a second, watching her sway farther into the store.

he should've been annoyed. he should've put her in her place. but truthfully? he liked the way she said it, low, firm, with that little bite in her tone — damn near made him grin. he stepped up behind her, close enough for her to feel his presence. “you right,” he said, voice low and steady in her ear. “you ain’t no child.”

she froze for half a second, then kept walking like she hadn’t heard the change in his tone. as if just his tone didn’t make her wet. “and if i wanted to be round stack,” he added, following her with calm, measured steps, “i’d be back at the juke joint listenin to him count ones like they fives.”

[ꪆৎ] tried to hide her reaction. “i’m here with you,” he continued, watching the way her fingers skimmed over fabric. “so act like you know the difference.” she turned to face him then, dress she picked up in her hand. “is that you checkin me, smoke?” he tilted his head, eyes dragging from her face down to the hem of her dress. “nah. that’s me remindin you who you talkin to.” a beat of silence passed between them, hot and heavy like the mississippi air.

their moment of silence was interrupted as quick as it came. “miss laveau,” the girl behind the counter called, perking up. “everything you requested is in the back. i’ll set up your fitting room now.”

“thank you, baby,” [ꪆৎ] replied, her tone softening just enough to let her charm peek through. she turned back to smoke, gaze flicking down the aisle of mannequins and dresses. “make yourself useful.”

he didn’t say a word. just followed her as she moved from rack to rack, holding every dress she picked out. she held a champagne-colored dress up to her frame, studying herself in the mirror near the end of the row. “you gon stand there lookin, or help me pick?” she said smartly over her shoulder, not even glancing at him.

smoke stepped up behind her. he reached past her slowly, his hand brushing lightly against her shoulder as he plucked a deep red slip from the rack. it was cut low, short, made of silk, and left nothing for the imagination. something she could wear only for him.

“this one,” he said, holding it out. “fits that smart ass mouth.”[ꪆৎ] turned her head a knowing gleam in her eye. “you sure you can handle my mouth?” smoke met her gaze, unbothered, that lazy smirk working its way across his face. “i been doin just fine so far, ain’t i?” she rolled her eyes with a small huff, snatching the dress from his hand, but not before their fingers brushed. [ꪆৎ] grabbed two more pieces on her way to the fitting room.

smoke watched her go, brown eyes trailing her figure the whole way down until the velvet curtain swished behind her. “you need anything, miss laveau, just holler,” the shopgirl called after her. “i’ll be alright,” [ꪆৎ] yelled back.

smoke exhaled slow, dragging a hand down his face as he leaned against the nearest wall. the boutique was still and quiet again, except for the hum of the AC and the faint rustle of fabric behind that curtain.

she hadn’t even been in there thirty minutes. and already, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to keep playing it cool.

sevyn’s note: i didn’t feel like writing a smut scene, just know the poor girl that works at the boutique would of been traumatized 🤭. expect more smoke fics and i hope yall enjoyed, feedback is welcome <3.

layout inspo @dollerin

[cameronsbabydoll]

spoiled kook reader is everything rafe wants: soft, naive, and effortlessly pretty, with that clueless, wide-eyed charm that makes him feel needed and in control. she’s not dumb, but she’s oblivious to danger, which fuels his overprotectiveness. rafe gets frustrated when she doesn’t take things seriously—like when she giggles at something he’s mad about or brushes off red flags because she’s too caught up in her own little world.

but at the same time, rafe loves it. he loves that she needs him to make decisions, loves that she’s so wrapped up in her pink-tinted bubble that she doesn’t see how crazy he is about her. she’s the kind of girl who pouts when she doesn’t get her way, who spends hours doing her hair just to lounge by the pool, who buys expensive things without thinking about the price. and rafe? he enables it. always tells her she doesn’t have to worry about anything—that’s his job.

the way he grips her jaw and forces her to listen when she gets too lost in her own head? the way he growls out, “pay attention when I’m talkin’ to you, princess,” because she’s too busy twirling her hair and admiring her manicure?

and can you imagine when rafe brings her around his friends? she’s completely out of place in their conversations, sitting pretty in his lap with her pink manicured fingers wrapped around a vodka cran, her lips glossy and slightly parted because she’s only half-listening. rafe is of course deep in conversation about something serious—money, business, or maybe even something dumb like the stock market or sports —and she just blinks up at him, twirling a strand of her perfectly curled hair.

“rafey, what does offshore mean?” she asks, tilting her head, genuinely clueless while the guys snicker.

kelce will mutter something like, “god, she’s adorable,” and topper will laugh and say, “you keep her around for the looks, huh, rafe?”

and rafe? he hates when they talk about her like that, like she’s just some dumb, pretty accessory. his grip on her thigh tightens, fingers digging into her soft skin as he glares at his friends. “shut the fuck up.”

but she doesn’t even realize what’s happening. she’s just giggling, clinking her nails against her drink. “ugh why are you squeezing so hard, rafey? gonna leave bruises,” she pouts, not even realizing that’s exactly what he wants.

and when another guy—maybe some no-name Kook douche—tries to flirt with her, assuming she’s too airheaded to notice? rafe will lose his shit. because sure, she may be ditzy, but she’s his.

“she is not interested,” rafe snaps before she can even process what’s happening, wrapping a possessive arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

but instead of understanding, she just blinks up at him, wide-eyed and confused. “omg wait, was he flirting?”

rafe clenches his jaw, barely containing his frustration. because of course she didn’t. she’s far too sweet, too oblivious. and it drives him crazy.

and later, when they’re alone, he makes sure she knows who she belongs to. “you don’t even get it, do you?” he mutters, pressing her against the nearest surface. “y-you walk around lookin’ like that, talkin’ like that, and you don’t even realize what you do to me.”

and she just blinks up at him, chewing on her glossy bottom lip. “…like what?”

and rafe just groans, dragging a hand down his face. Because he loves her, but she’s gonna be the death of him.

[rafeyssugar]

SWEET LIKE TROUBLE

bf!rafe cameron x bimbo reader

you were so annoying. like really. you were clingy and soft and always cold. you couldn’t open water bottles. you refused to learn how to put air in your tires. you cried when your lashes didn’t go on right. you had an entire separate bag just for your lip glosses and perfumes. and you made rafe stop walking every time you saw a flower on the ground that was “too cute to leave behind.”

you were the kind of girl that other girls got exhausted by. but rafe? rafe was in love.

like stupidly. sickly. head-over-heels obsessed.

not that he’d say all that. he’d just tell you to stop wearing skirts that short in public. and maybe he’d keep your strawberry perfume in his glove box. and maybe he’d never tell you no. ever. no matter how bratty you were being. he’d just groan and say “fuckin’ hell, babe…” like you were a burden. but he was already pulling out his wallet, already giving you his hoodie, already texting back where are you the second you left his sight.

“rafe,” you said, curling your legs into his lap as you laid back on the couch, your voice high and sweet and already getting him in a mood.

he didn’t look up from his phone. “hm?”

“what’s my middle name?”

his eyes flicked to you. “what?”

you pouted. “you forgot?”

he narrowed his eyes. “…no?”

you squinted. “then what is it.”

he paused. “…baby.”

you blinked. “wrong.”

“it is when you’re mine,” he smirked.

you groaned, throwing a throw pillow at him. “you’re so annoying!”

rafe caught it mid-air, laughing under his breath. “no, you’re annoying. you make me take selfies and look at your nail inspo board like i know the difference between baby pink and ballerina pink.”

you gasped. “they’re completely different!”

“sure, babe.”

you sat up on your knees, arms crossed, fake-pouting now. “you don’t take anything seriously.”

rafe put his phone down. his smile softened. “i take you seriously.”

you froze. then blinked at him.

“you do?”

“duh.” he reached over, tugging you into his lap like it was second nature. “you think i’d let just anyone cry in my car over lash glue and still kiss her forehead after?”

you giggled. “okay but that was literally a crisis.”

“you called me at 2am.”

“my lashes were lifting!”

he rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. not when you were straddling him, arms around his neck, smelling like something fruity and way too expensive. not when you kissed the corner of his jaw and whispered “love you, baby” like it was the easiest thing in the world.

he didn’t say it back. not with words.

just held you a little tighter. tilted your face toward his with both hands and kissed you slow. long. soft. like you were made of glass and pink clouds and sugar.

you hummed against his lips. then pulled back with a grin. “you’re blushing.”

“shut up.”

“you are,” you giggled, cupping his cheeks. “you get all red when i say your name. rafe.”

“stop.”

“rafe rafe rafe—”

he kissed you again just to shut you up.

and maybe because he missed the taste of your lip gloss already.

later, you were laying in his bed wearing one of his old t-shirts that hung off your body like a dress. your legs were cold, so rafe threw a blanket over you. you made him paint your nails (badly). he made you watch heat for the fourth time. you fell asleep on his chest halfway through. he pretended to hate it. but he didn’t move a muscle for hours.

you whispered something half-asleep into his shirt.

“what’d you say?” rafe murmured.

you blinked slowly, nose nuzzled into him. “said you’re my favorite.”

his heart thumped. he swallowed. “oh.”

“i’d pick you. every time.”

he blinked up at the ceiling.

“…even over strawberry acai?”

you paused. “mmm… close call.”

he laughed. “fuck you.”

you smiled against him. “love you too.”

he didn’t say it back. again.

but his hand stayed in your hair. his lips pressed against your forehead. and when you fell asleep for real, he whispered it into your skin like a prayer.

love you. love you. love you.

you never even noticed he said it. but he didn’t care.

he’d say it a thousand times if he had to.

[lamb-teaa]

` Transactional Tantrum

` pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

` tags: fluff. romcom. silly shenanigans. filthy rich Sylus. chaotic!reader cuz we all want to be spoiled and provided by him don't lie 🫵🏻

` teaa's note: where can i get a husband like Sylus (⁠ ⁠⚈̥̥̥̥̥́⁠⌢⁠⚈̥̥̥̥̥̀⁠)

People hail him as a powerful man amongst all existing factions in the N109 Zone, yet even someone like Sylus isn't immune to the dread of a tedious business dealings.

Don't get him wrong, it is practically his job for a lack of better words but you can't blame the man for nearly dying out of boredom at the moment.

Ping!

A sudden notification from his phone tore his attention away from his yammering business partners. Sylus briefly glanced down at his phone, brows furrowed in confusion when he read the transaction alert message on his screen.

'Ten million was charged to your Credit Card at Summers Jewelry'

Sylus didn't even have the chance to ponder over the sudden message further when he was suddenly startled by another barrage of notifications - yes, plural notifications.

'Four million was charged to your Credit Card at M&Hs'

'Six million was charged to your Credit Card at Nebulas'

'Eight million was charged to your Credit Card at Zapple'

Despite the deadpan expression on his face and his usual nonchalance silence, the slightest quirk of his brows were enough to give away his bewildered reaction to seeing such random transaction alerts on his card.

He doesn't recall making any on-hold purchases and certainly didn't give the twins any permission to spend any after the last time they went all out using his card in the past.

Which means only one person would be bold enough to overspend his money on a whim like this and his eyes instantly flickered in amusement when another transaction message came through his phone.

'Thirteen million was charged to your Credit Card at Abyssal Attire'

Seems like a certain kitten is on a wild spending spree.

Observing the transaction alerts, Sylus let out a low chuckle, ignoring the strange looks from his business partners who continued on with their discussion.

His sole attention now was you - his lovely kitten spending all his money with reckless abandon.

As his thumb hovered over the icon of your picture on his phone, he couldn't help but grin at the large purchases you made - given the fact you had always been reluctant to spend on his card before despite the countless times he had reassured you that he wants you to use his money to your heart's content.

Sylus, without a doubt, always wants the best for you. Even when you nagged him on buying such expensive gifts before, yet that will never stop him from spoiling you rotten.

Though.. he wondered what sparked this sudden influx of random purchases this first time around?

With his interest now piqued towards you, Sylus strode out of the conference room without a care in the world, especially when said discussion had led to no satisfying result on his end, thus he neither bothered about the frustrated and flabbergasted looks of the businessmen as he made his way along the hallways of the building.

Luke and Kieran, who's been by his side the entire meeting, automatically followed their boss out. Both brothers exchange curious looks from behind their masks with a shrug. Though they had great knowledge that only two things could spring their boss out of his usual routine - an unexpected ambush or well, you.

And it seemed like they were right on the nose as they watched Sylus’s thumb pressed onto the screen of his phone before bringing the device close to his ear, an amused yet genuine smile curled on their fierce leader's lips as he called out your name.

"Is it just me or a certain kitten is behaving quite impulsively with her spending today?” His voice held a steady yet teasing affection tone, his mind already picturing your smug expression at overspending his money. “This is a first, sweetie.”

"Oh look who finally remembered me!" Your voice snapped, the snarky and sarcastic response made Sylus pause in his track in surprise.

Before he could say anything, you cut him off, your voice faux innocent under a thinly veiled anger from the other line. "To think it took blowing your credit card to call me after making me wait for you the past THREE hours, you better have some explaining to do mister!”

To say you had left Sylus utterly speechless would be an understatement of the century, but it quite frankly did as your unexpected anger left his mind reeling in both confusion and worry.

Even his brief frozen state wasn't left unnoticed by Luke and Kieran, both could heard your snappy voice from the other line and they know an unhappy Miss Hunter equals to a agitated Onychinus leader, so they quietly watched in as Sylus slowly recover from his initial surprise before turning his attention back to the phone call.

“Kitten.” Sylus blinked, a frown forming on his lips, "I don't recall us having plans today? And I'm out of town for the time being as well.”

There was a sudden silence from your side, and for a second there Sylus thought you had hung up on him but your next words made him even more confused.

"Wait, what, I thought Luke and Kieran said you'd be free for the weekend and they'd told you about our date for today?"

At the mention of the twins, Sylus's head immediately snapped towards his henchmen who visibly tensed up. It didn't take long for Sylus to put two and two together that Luke and Kieran had pulled another of their mischievous pranks on you.

Oh but this one is definitely going to cost them their four months worth of paycheck for making his kitten angry at him.

"It seems like the twins have made a mistake. I wasn't aware of such plans today." Sylus's voice dropped low and dangerous, a flicker of annoyance as he shot the tensed twins a hard glare.

Though, knowing it would be no use to him to be mad at them at that moment, Sylus paused briefly once more before taking a deep breath, calming himself down. "I assure you, sweetie, I would never intentionally forget anything, especially when it's about you.”

There was another stretch of silence before you spoke up again, your voice softer and apologetic, wincing in guilt for assuming he'd purposely ditched you when that wasn't the case. "I'm sorry.." You sighed quietly. "I just.. I was looking forward to seeing you today and I.. I missed you, Sy.."

His annoyance instantly melted away at your confession. He understood that his work often kept him away, leaving you feeling neglected at times and he wanted nothing more than to rush to your side and hold you dearly in his arms. You always had a way to tug at his heartstrings and even then he relishes at the admission of you needing him as much as he needed you.

"I'll make it up to you, right now. Anything you want, name it." Sylus emphasized seriously, already giving Luke and Kieran a look of command. Not needing any further words as the twins bolted off to prepare his private jet to head back to Linkon.

"Well, you could start by allowing me to strangle those twins." You chirped, your voice brighter now yet held intentional malice mostly directed towards his loyal henchmen for tricking you with false information regarding Sylus's work schedule.

"And cuddles. I expect to see you at my place later tonight for cuddles or else I'll empty your entire bank account." You demanded sweetly, with a clearly joking threat but given you had waited three whole hours like a fool in public, you were tempted to do it again if Sylus bails on you twice in a day.

Your laughter tinkled over the phone, a lovely sound that never ceases to make Sylus's heart swell with blissful affection. The business deal be damned and he'll handle the twins' antics another time, for now, all he wanted was to go back to you.

Sylus chuckled, a warm smile tugging at his lips despite himself as he made his way up the building's rooftop. He knew his kitten was quite a force to be reckoned with, and yet such side of you made him drawn to you even more than ever - oh, he couldn't wait to see you again soon. "Deal. Cuddles it is, and you have my word, sweetie, I'll be at your doorstep by tonight. As for the twins, well, I'm sure they'll be begging for mercy by the time you're done with them.”

Back to your awaiting loving embrace.

[loveanddeepsecrets]

Domestic + Intimate Headcanons Pt. II

An impromptu two parter of me just spitballing (Pt. I for reference). This started out as a cutesy mini headcanon post for Raf’s bday, but quickly grew into hyper specific romantic scenarios and wishful thinking. It’s still probably clear who my mains are 😭 but I did my best to showcase the humility in all LIs

⤠ Disclaimer: I’m quite happy with the intimate headcanons from my initial post and truthfully couldn’t expand too too much without basically repeating myself from last time. So with the exception of Caleb, there’s a bit less spicy bullets this go-round :/

⤠ Tags: 18+, MDNI, *slight spoilers depending on affinity level or personal progress in main story +myths, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but written with an afab + fem!reader in mind

⤠ Word count: 2.1k (mostly proofread)

Xavier

SFW

✧ Eats the raisins you pick out of the trail mix

✧ Always draws stars next to your name when writing you letters/cards

✧ Bookstore dates. At every visit, you pick one of your favourite books to read for each other

✧ After begging him tirelessly to teach you a song, *any song* on the piano, he mischievously chose ‘Heart & Soul’

✧ Saves every voicemail/voice note. He often replays them to stay sane on dangerous solo missions 

✧ On top of that, he made a bunny plushie version of you at one of those 'Build-A-Bear' type shops and used one of your voice notes . He sleeps with it on nights he can't sleep with you

✧ Sprays more cologne on his hoodies knowing you love the scent. He also thinks the extra spritz of fragrance will ward off other men since he knows you borrow his clothes. It’s his silent way of marking what’s his

✧ Loves making you blush. He didn't get enough time to court you in the past timeline on Philos, so he seizes every opportunity to (quite effortlessly) rizz you up to see your flushed expression

NSFW

✧ [canonically makes bolder moves to see how you’d react —secret times lvl 165]

✧ Game head. He gets a bit of an adrenaline rush if you do it while he’s online

✧ Doesn’t give not one shit about how loud you guys are. He probably prefers sex on the couch on the off chance Charlie might be passing through the hallway

✧ Though I still think he’s pretty quiet, he becomes a bit of a whiny mess when you’re edging him

✧ A gripper. Grabs on your ass during cowgirl, your chest during missionary, your hips/thighs during doggy, etc

✧ Sprained his neck from holding your hips down and guiding you when you sat on his face. It left him smirking throughout his recovery. Every painful twitch was a pleasant reminder of a job well done 

✧ Has the fastest pace ot5. He moves at lightning speed when batting wanderers, so he probably moves at a back breaking break neck speed while inside of you 

✧ After rewatching the 'No Restraint' card on YouTube… *sweats* he’s got magic fingers. I’ll put it like this and move on: firm, tiny circles 🫠

Caleb

SFW

✧ 10+ hours long face time calls

✧ Would actually be pretty decent at the claw machine if he wasn't such a massive cheater

✧ Utility man. He's your personal chauffer, home chef, alarm clock, umbrella, trainer, handyman, and so on. He strives to be the perfect emergency contact

✧ Has definitely seen those videos of couples trying to recreate yoga poses and had you try with him (would probably cheat using his evol)

✧ Bounces his leg if you scratch that one spot on his head when you play with his hair

✧ You always end up sitting on his lap when cuddling watching tv or reading peacefully together 

✧ Holds pinkies more often than holding hands

✧ Super athletic and adventurous dates i.e. zip lining, skydiving, paragliding, kayaking, hiking, etc. He’s patient, encouraging, and talks you through the scariest parts of the activity and rewards you with several kisses in between telling you how brave you were

NSFW

✧ Hands down has the roughest sex regularly ot5

✧ Mile high club

✧ Orgasm denial + overstimulation 

✧ LOUD, TALKATIVE, and MESSY 

✧ Sloppy eater

✧ He expects a sloppy eater in return. Is probably the type to grab your head and start guiding you when he’s close 

✧ Ik I said Xavier was bossy, but this man? His gravity evol? His colonel position? CONTROL FREAK

✧ Likely has the biggest “Sir” kink

✧ While I do think he aligns slightly more with booktok Sylus, I can’t see where degradation would fit with their dynamic. You’re the very thing he wants to shield and protect. Why would he degrade what he cherishes?

✧ On the softer side, he’s the type to melt into your touch. There’s true devotion in his eyes (and heart) when you’re making love

✧ On the days where he’s not rough, the sex is more sensual and almost tantric 

✧ Will always find a way to be physically closer to you during the act. Whether it’s putting his forehead on yours, burying his face in your neck, hugging your waist, or simply holding hands 

✧ You both probably cried (happy tears) after your first time. Being intimate felt like a confirmation from the universe that you knew each other more than words could express. There was no trial and error, you just knew 

Sylus

SFW

✧ Hot air balloon rides

✧ Monogram matching robes

✧ Secret fan of game shows. He thinks they’re hilarious— or in his words “highly amusing”

✧ Bought you a birdhouse + birdfeeder for your apartment after he noticed you birdwatching on the last date 

✧ Purposely chooses horror films on movie nights on the chance you’ll hold onto him and hide your face in his chest. He’ll laugh and make some remark about being hurt that you’d use him as a shield, but will hold you tighter and soothe you later in the night when you’re too scared to sleep

✧ Random slow dances. In the kitchen on the nights you make dinner together; in his study while music emits from his record player; in the bathroom, sleepily swaying side to side while lazily brushing your teeth 

✧ Whenever you're holding hands, he often aimlessly draws random shapes on your ring finger

✧ I think all the LADS men have a default position they fall into when getting close or snuggling up. For Sylus, it’s resting his chin on your shoulder. It’s the perfect place to capture your scent plus, he can hear and feel your heartbeat. Of course he’ll playful bite or nuzzle into your neck, but he rests his head there because it’s most familiar and comforting to him and his old dragon form

NSFW

✧ Road head 

✧ Mile high club

✧ Eye contact 

✧ Has a secluded sex dungeon even Luke & Kieran don’t know about

✧ Due to the nature of his job, I don’t think he’d engage in explicit sexting. Too many people on his case and has probably dealt with his fair share of hackers. If one of your messages/photos/videos leaked anywhere, it would be the end of the N109 zone and the world as we know it 

✧ That being said, if he wants to make home movies, it’s done with a vintage film camera to ensure the utmost privacy

✧ More of a grunter and groaner than a moaner. The few times he does moan, is when he’s buried between your legs

✧ I actually think he’d be into role play. He likes how you always keep him quick on his feet in your relationship, and will often humour and indulging in the change of pace. He’d like this even more in the bedroom

✧ Chuckles to himself and humours you whenever you suggest 69ing bc he knows you’ll inevitably just lay there with his dick idle in your hands, while you whimper on top of him

✧ Stamina coach. His methods for overstimulation are twofold. While he loves the state of you withering and coming completely undone, he also does this to help you expand your limitations and enjoy each other for as long as he can go. I already said he’s a pleasure dom, but he’s a pleasure dom with a purpose

Zayne

SFW

✧ Botanical garden tours

✧ Couples ice skating during the holiday season 

✧ Uses his surgical skills to patch up injured plushies [x] 

✧ He may or may not have added an extra rest day or two in your doctor’s note to Jenna so he can spend more time with you. He’ll deny it and insist you need the additional rest, and who better to take care of you other than your doctor?

✧ There’s something about the way he holds your hand that’s sickeningly sweet. Gentle, slightly cool to the touch that warms up quickly, with loving caresses

✧ Surprised you to a dessert degustation for your anniversary. Each dish is a highlight of the standout desserts you tried over the year

✧ Occasional late night strolls along the river. He passively recalls scenes from the western dramas you watch and (successfully) tries skipping rocks

✧ Enjoys exploring artistic outlets with you. Often suggests different workshops to try i.e. stained glass studios, culinary classes, candle making, terrarium building, etc

✧ A bit needy nowadays. To experience a love he never knew he could have, makes him hold your hand a little more tightly, hug you a few seconds longer and kiss you twice as many times as he did before

NSFW

✧ Much like Sylus, he’s also big on eye contact (when he’s in control)

✧ Literally the cutest thing ever when you go down on him. He’ll keep his composure, and lustfully tell you what he wants, but gets so flustered and stuttering as the pleasure builds and he gets close

✧ Truthfully, I don’t like to compare Zayne and Caleb all that much, but the love making between you two is also very tantric

✧ If you listen to the way he kisses you, it’s pretty similar to how he eats you. When completely drunk off your juices, it’s like he’s breathing you in. There’s a desperation to his licks and kisses, feening for the taste of your nectar

✧ He’s also the type to spell out his name with his tongue over and over again. Think of it as a spell. He needs to hear you call to him

✧ Incredibly patient. Foreplay isn’t some tit for tat curtesy thing, it’s important to him. He’s less of a tease and more methodical. "Relax into my arms. No, I'm not bullying you. I need you to come for me again. You should always warm up before stretching, and I don't want to hurt you so please, come for me love. Can you do that for me?"

✧ A stickler for clear communication. You must speak in full complete sentences. It’s not enough to say just say “Please.” What exactly are you pleading him to do?

✧ Slight exhibitionist. He’ll never allow you to get caught, but likes the challenge of finding the quickest ways to cover your mouth— using his hand, tie or lips to stifle your moans

Rafayel

SFW

✧ Hates going in hot springs, saunas, or jacuzzies. He’ll say he feels like a boiling crab

✧ Asked to keep your first completed sketchbook that are filled with many one on one art lessons with him

✧ Can’t sleep if some semblance of you isn’t with him. Will literally drag or carry you to the couch so he can take a nap. You don’t have to nap with him, just lay next to him and stroke his hair

✧ Apart from Moments, you’re the only one he’s following on all socials

✧ Always responds with a stream of texts in all caps and several emojis when you send him a selfie 

✧ His biggest artistic aspiration is to find just the right pigments/colours that encapsulates you. Next is finding a colour palette that encapsulates both of you 

✧ Used to think you were mocking him when you took him on aquarium dates

✧ Your pearl engagement ring was made from the tears he cried while drafting his proposal speech [x]

NSFW

✧ Next to Sylus, he’s a comfort king. Making sure you have enough pillows underneath you during missionary; repositioning you when he notices your head leaning off the edge of the bed; several consent check ins; "my hands aren't too cold, right?"; taking over when your legs start to tire out from riding him, etc

✧ Unpopular opinion, I think he’s the most into period sex out of the five. You really think a MERMAN is scared of the red sea???

✧ Speaking of which, he’s extra sensitive to your scent and the way you feel when you’re on your cycle. Though he won’t necessarily initiate anything 

✧ Has you take the week off for Ebb Day. You’ll need the extra down time and he’s more than happy to spend the rest the week caring for you till you're back in good health

✧ On particularly intense— passionate rounds, he starts swearing/speaking in Lumerian

✧ Pretty gentle with you when you go down on him. He’s usually holding your hair back, softly running his fingers through your strands or caressing the back of your neck 

✧ The biggest tease when he’s eating you out and MEAN about it too. Giggling when you mewl. That annoying "mmm?” when you start to get louder. "Speak up, cutie."

✧ Best stroke game. Ik I said this last time, but I’m dying on this hill. Dizzying backshots, frontshots, sideshots— literally whatever position you’re in, his hips are steady, fluid, and unrelenting

ꨄ︎ A/N: Thanks for reading 🤍 these lists were a bit harder to make this time ngl. Quite a few bullets from pt. I are now canon— which I’m happy about ofc, but it made it harder to bounce around new ideas since there’s fewer “what ifs”. It’s probably best to end this series here tbh. But I’m definitely open to different content suggestions to post next!

[x] - denotes credit for headcanon inspo.

⤠ dividers by saradika-graphics & anitalenia

[goatgoesmbe]

Sugardaddy!Price

...

Being John Price's sidechick

Where he's already married.

And you're just his second choice.

plz trust the plot yall

Well you shouldn't really expect anything more with him in the first place when you agreed to be his sugar baby.

But with how he treated you, how could you not?

He made sure all your wants were met and more. Most of the time you didn't even need to ask, he would just know somehow. Boxes of designer clothes, shoes, bags, and jewelry at your doorsteps.

That gruff voice of his sounded gentle when he spoke to you, causing butterflies to flutter in your belly. Low timbre that made your core purr whenever he whispered sinful things in your ear as he encapsulated you with pure pleasure. And even when his tone was more tender, uttering something innocent like simply asking about your day- it would still get you to squeeze your thighs together.

His touches made your skin blister, sent shivers down your spine, leaving you breathless. You could still feel them when he was not around, it made you shiver. Longing for more. For him.

You glanced at the ring on his finger, one he didn't even bother to take off when he first approached you.

Does he treat the missus at home the same way?

It was your own fault really, you put yourself in this situation. You should have said that you were not interested at that time. You should feel horrible- a voice at the back of your mind said.

You didn't know what were you thinking.

Well.. you didn't think, that's the problem.

But how could you? With his smile rendering your brain useless, wired neurons malfunctioning when he sets his eyes on you.

Sometimes when he thought you were still asleep, you caught him smiling at his phone. Some other times, he unconsciously fidgeted with said ring.

Seemed like he had a good thing going on with the missus, why did he come to you then?

Men, you sighed. The hypocrite that you are, snuggling to his hairy chest.

...

John wasn't the first one who took interest in you that night.

It was one of his beloved, Kyle, who squeezed his hand under the table to get his attention before pointing at you with his chin.

John saw that look in his eyes, and the others. He looked around and noticed Simon and Johnny stopped exchanging spit to look at you too.

Pretty thing that you are. With your tight little dress and sweet-looking face, looking innocent yet so sinful effortlessly.

They want you.

But of course, they couldn't just waltz over all at once. They didn't know your preference yet, what you would be comfortable with.

They were in it for a long run after all, not just a quick fuck. Til death do us part.

John was the leader, in and out of of their job. He was also the most experienced, even if Kyle argued he was the most charming of them all. Johnny was too eager, and Simon was.. Simon.

And so John made his move.

A tempting bait that you bit without a second thought.

He gave the updates of his progress with you to the others. Sending candid pictures, and even recording of your sweet moans that he took without you knowing.

...

Kissing the top of your head when you snuggled to him, he smiled when he saw the eagerness of his partners in the groupchat.

He expected you wouldn't escape their grasp now that you've bonded with him.

It's about time for you to meet the others after all.

Next

[threadbearsweater]

Nanami is that sort of boyfriend who's prone to spoiling you during the holiday season.

He's equally as bad at making excuses for not indulging you when you're out shopping together and see something you really love.

This time, it's a sweater. Cashmere; soft and supple, a pretty shade of your favorite color, one that makes your eyes sparkle. One, you plead, that would look great with the scarf you were gifted from a friend. You could wear it to the office holiday party. You could wear it to dinner with family.

He knows. And he tries– oh, he tries– to keep a straight face when he tells you no.

And, oh, you give him a look. "I'll get it myself, then. Merry Christmas to me."

Kento huffs, indignant. "You don't have to buy it." I already bought it. It's in the trunk of my car. Please stop being so stubborn.

You take the sweater off the rack and use the sleeve to caress his cheek. You grin, you chuckle. Your boyfriend looks like he might melt into the floor. "Feel how soft it is? I think I'll buy one in each color."

His voice is strained when he speaks, his cheeks pink. "Just get the green one."

It's an odd request. "But I really love the color of this one," you insist. "Besides, I can buy both. I'm using my money anyway."

Kento is patient to a fault, but he's terrible at keeping anything from you, even a secret as harmless as a gift he's already purchased. "–already bought–"

"What?" You tap his chin and plant a kiss there. He grabs your finger and kisses the tip.

"I already bought you one in that color," he concedes. "Saw you eyeing them last time we were here and came back to buy it when you weren't with me."

Your face positively blooms into a smile, and you throw your arms around his neck. "Oh, Kento, you shouldn't have!"

Kento– flustered, stoic, smitten– kisses the top of your head. "I know."

[dreamyblanket]

lil request of shadow milk cookie with reader, the eyes in his hair always looking at them with hearts? 🥺

If you don't want him to cause chaos in your house just stare at him. He love being the center of attention, especially if it's yours ^^