#and just picked me up under my arms like I weighed NOTHING

[crybaby-bkg]

I had a seggsy dream about toji last night and I keep getting flashbacks like it really happened and I am. feeling Tortured. this is Pain.

[cumikering]

Ghost x plus-sized reader

2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that

“Can I carry you?”

At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.

You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”

“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”

“And you picked me?”

He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”

You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”

His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”

You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.

How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?

“N- no.”

His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”

Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”

He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”

“Wait- are you sure you can?”

“Hop on,” he repeated.

At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.

You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.

It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?

“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”

He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.

“Oh! Where are you going?

“I’m getting you a drink.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”

You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”

“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.

He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.

“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.

He shook his head.

“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”

“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.

“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”

Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.

He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.

“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.

When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.

“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”

“You’re the lieutenant?”

He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”

“He put you up to this then?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.

”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.

“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”

When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”

So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.

“Right. Okay.”

You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.

“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.

“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.

“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”

With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.

Huh, first date?

You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.

Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?

He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.

He smirked. Smart girl.

“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.

“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”

“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.

He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.

With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.

“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.

“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.

He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”

He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.

His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”

“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”

Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”

“Simon, what’s…”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.

“That’s not all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.

Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.

You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.

The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”

“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.

He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.

“Did he…”

“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.

“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”

Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”

“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”

“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.

You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”

“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”

When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.

“Would you like me to send you home?”

“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”

“Would you let me, if I want to?”

There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”

When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.

“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”

“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.

Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.

“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”

It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.

“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”

You chuckled.

“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”

“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”

“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”

“Extra chips?”

“Extra chips,” he affirmed.

“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”

Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?

“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”

He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”

You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.

As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.

Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.

“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.

You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Right now isn’t even too soon.”

You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.

For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out her page for fic recs!

Neighbour Ghost AU if he still had his family

Ghost's online fantasies came true Masterlist

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ STRAWBERRY FLAVORED — GETO SUGURU.

contents. here is a lil prequel to this btw, basically this is suguru’s shower scene but if he actually had someone to take care of him, reverse comfort, aka my extremely self indulgent drabble of fixing suguru before he turns into a mass murderer <3

it’s been a while—suguru has been in that shower for long enough that you’re starting to grow concerned. you contemplate for a bit, whether it’s a good idea or not to enter the boys shower, weighing the possibilities of being caught.

satoru’s not here, you reason, nanami and haibara are gone too, and yaga shouldn’t notice either—so, with a heavy sigh, you walk up to the door, opening it slowly. you can see him, standing as the water pours over his body, not even moving a little when you enter.

suguru is not the same—not after everything that’s happened. you can tell, you can see it under his eyes from the lack of sleep, you can see it in his cheekbones as they show a bit more from the lost weight, you can see it in the stiffness of his body when you’re around him. he’s not the same, and no one’s seem to have noticed, but you have. you always have.

you slowly strip from your clothing, walking up to him quietly until your arms circle his waist and your cheek rests against his bare back.

“baby,” you hum, “you’re turning into a prune. look at your skin,” you grab his hand, running a thumb over the tips of his fingers, wrinkly from the water.

he gives you an empty chuckle—you don’t think you’ve heard a real laugh from suguru since that day. “but aren’t i a handsome prune?” he mumbles.

“of course,” you kiss his shoulder, “the handsomest.”

“that’s a relief,” he says playfully—there’s nothing playful about his tone, though. it’s numb, automatic, like he’s trained himself to respond to you the way he always does. but you can feel it. he’s not the same.

“you’ve been in here a while. i got tired of waiting.”

“sorry,” he drops his hand from yours, falling limply to his side, “lost track of time, i guess.”

“suguru,” you say softly, “what’s wrong?”

he’s quiet, probably contemplating his answer. no one else might’ve noticed, but you have. you always do—he knows you always will. finally, he decides to answer, “are you really asking me that?”

“yes,” you say firmly, “i want to hear it. i want you to hear it. stop pushing it down.”

“i’m fine,” he mutters, “just tired.”

“i know,” you say softly, “i know you’re tired. what’s got you so tired?”

gently, your arms twist his body—he doesn’t put up a fight, just spins to face you until his face is digging into your neck on instinct. he can smell your body wash, can inhale the familiar scent of you from here. there are no curses to consume and no people to save at the risk of himself here, just the soft feeling of your skin and the warm press of your lips on his head.

riko would’ve liked you, he thinks. he can’t help it.

for a fleeting moment, when his hand was outstretched to her, he’d wondered if you’d like her too. he’d decided you would—you’re kind, you always have enough love for one more person. you’ll like riko, he’d thought. and then just like that, she’d been on the floor, dark pool of blood under her head.

you never got to meet her, and he never got to introduce you.

“what’s wrong, sugu?” you ask again, voice more delicate this time.

“everything,” he whispers.

he’s tired, so incredibly tired. suguru is exhausted. so for today, he’ll let you pick up the pieces. he doesn’t want to worry about you right now, doesn’t want to think about whether or not the edges will be sharp enough to slice your fingertips. suguru is exhausted—so for once, he lets you worry about him instead.

“i see,” you nod, letting your fingers trail to his head, stroking the wet strands gently as he trembles against your body, “everything is a lot. let’s start with just one, yeah?”

“i hate the taste of curses,” he spits, “it tastes like vomit.”

“that’s no good,” you agree, and then you’re pulling his head out of your neck—he wants to protest, wants to stay right where he is so he doesn’t have to face you, or anything. but you’re insistent, gentle as you are firm, cupping his cheeks as you force him to look at you. “can you still taste it?”

“yeah,” he nods. it’s true, he can’t forget the taste even if he tries. it’s like a phantom pain—but it resides on his tongue, haunting him long after it’s gone, even as he breathes and swallows and talks. “i hate it.”

your lips are on his after that, soft and sweet against his mouth. he can taste the strawberry of your chapstick, the familiar taste of you that he also could never forget. it washes down the vile taste of curses easily, so he leans in for more. and more. and more. he needs more.

“what about that?” you ask, stroking his cheek when you pull away, “how does that taste?”

“good,” he says shakily, “i…i like that.”

“i know you do,” you smile, pecking the corner of his mouth, “i can’t change how curses taste. but if i could, i’d make them strawberry flavored for you.”

he chuckles at that—it’s small, but it’s real. for the first time in a long time. it’s real.

suguru hates how curses taste, and you can’t change that, but you can help make swallowing become easier. he’ll take it—he’ll take anything you give.

“that might make the job easier,” he says, burying his face back into your neck, “they’d taste like you.”

“i’ll kiss you then,” you stroke his hair, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his head. his lips wobble, vision turning blurry. suguru is tired—he doesn’t want to hold it in anymore. “after every curse you swallow, i’ll kiss you. it’ll make it easier.”

“i don’t know if it will,” he admits, “this….what do we do it for? none of it is easy.”

he used to think it was. fighting curses was easy—satoru and him were the strongest. fighting curses was like stepping on ants as they walk on the concrete, crushing them before they can bite anyone. but he starts to wonder if people deserve to be bitten, if the people who kick at ant piles mindlessly for fun deserve to be saved from themselves.

you think for a bit, contemplating his question as the water runs over both of your bodies, slipping into the thin crevices between your skin and his.

“it’s not,” you agree, “it’s not easy. i would’ve loved to meet riko. i know you wanted me to. i’m sorry, suguru.”

somewhere along with the water on your shoulder mixes his tears, and his body shakes against yours. suguru is tired. he’s tired of swallowing curses and tasting bile. he’s tired of pretending the weak are innocent. he’s tired of carrying so much weight on his young, innocent shoulders. they deserve to be free.

“is it worth saving them?” he asks as he sniffles, “if they clap over people like us dying?”

“people like us aren’t always so different,” you point out.

people like us don’t need saving, he wants to argue—but you don’t give him a chance to, turning the water off behind him as you stand there holding him as he leans into you.

“there will always be someone who needs to be saved,” you murmur, “and there will always be something they need to be saved from. it’s not always as simple as curses and exorcisms, though.”

“that doesn’t make any sense,” he frowns, “that’s the whole point of jujutsu. to exorcise curses.”

“and if we exorcised them all? would that make everyone safe?”

“maybe not,” he furrows his eyebrows, “but at least we wouldn’t be dying for them.”

“you never know,” you reach for the towel, slowly pulling away and patting his skin gently as you dry his dripping skin, “maybe you’d die from something worse.”

“what could be worse?” he asks bitterly. he doesn’t understand. but you smile, pressing a kiss to his jaw as you brush his bangs from his face.

“i don’t know,” you shrug, “but i’m sure there’s something. there’s always something worse. but there’s always something better too.”

he still doesn’t completely understand. but the weight on his shoulder doesn’t feel as heavy when you lean and kiss it again—he feels like at least some of his youth is still his, still yours.

“you make no sense,” he grunts, scowling when you ruffle his hair obnoxiously with a giggle.

“well, maybe you’ll make sense of things after a nap,” you poke his chest accusingly, “you really need one. and then you’ll eat something. c’mon.”

“i don’t sleep with wet hair,” he reminds you as you tug him along, stopping where his clothes hang. you gesture at him to hold his arms up, grabbing his shirt. he rolls his eyes and indulges you, letting you dress him.

“i’ll dry it for you,” you chuckle, “my sugu is so high maintenance.”

and then, before you can turn to grab your own clothes, he tugs your wrist and pulls you in, kissing you hard, kissing you hungrily, kissing you like you’re all he has. just because he can. he can taste the last bits of your chapstick—he wants to keep tasting it forever. it’s strawberry, his favorite.

“i like strawberries,” he presses his forehead to yours, closing his eyes, “so don’t change the flavor.”

“okay,” you grin, cupping his cheeks, “i’ll always get strawberry for my sugu.”

he just needed a few kissies and he would’ve been fine. i guess i’ll take one for the team and kiss him a few times 😔 i guess i can take the responsibility of loving him 😔 i’ll be fine guys no need to worry about me 😔

[heavenlyraindrops]

☆ “ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴍᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ.” | ᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ☆

☆ She said “fuck me like I’m famous” | Chapter Two

☆ Warnings: profanity, blowjobs, light grinding, part two of a series but you can read it as a stand-alone too (the only context required: they fucked once before), author!reader, reader writes smut :)

☆ Word count: 2k, Available on: Tumblr, AO3

You stared at the phone clutched in your hands, held above your face. Ken’s number on the screen. 

You’d gotten it about a week ago. You hadn’t spoken to him yet. 

In all fairness, that was your fault. He didn’t have your number- you’d both been so dazed it was a miracle you’d remembered to ask him yourself, simply telling him you’d call him. 

You hadn’t called him. 

You sighed, your arms tiring out from the strain of holding up your phone, so you rolled onto your stomach, elbows digging into your bedsheets. The screen read the time- five to nine. 

You bit your lip, and pressed the call button. 

It took a couple of rings for him to pick up, and when he did, the silence was so deafening you didn’t even notice.

“Hello?” You asked tentatively.

“Hey- hey!” His voice was tired, weighed down by fatigue. It made something stir in between your legs. “[name]?”

“Yeah.” You ran your tongue over your lips nervously, listening to his soft breath on the other end of the line. “I’m not- I’m not bothering you, am I?” You asked weakly. He gave a low laugh, and oh my god it sounds so fucking hot. 

“No,” he murmured. “You’re not bothering me.” Your chest untightened, despite the fact you could tell he sounds like he just woke up. 

“Plus,” he continued, “If I got to hear your voice I’d hardly call it something bothering me.”

You sucked in a harsh breath, but didn’t say anything, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“I was getting worried you wouldn’t call, you know.” You eased yourself onto your side as he spoke, pressing the phone against your ear. “So. Did you need anything, or…”

“No,” you said quickly, then froze up, wondering if it came out wrong. “N-no, I mean, I just wanted to wish you… good luck on your game tomorrow.” You buried your face half into the pillow, wrapping an arm around it. “You probably don’t need it, but…”

A few seconds of silence ticked by, and you wondered if you had angered him, when he spoke up again, voice still hoarse with sleep and now seemingly laced with something else you couldn’t- could have deciphered. But you pushed the thought away from your brain. 

“You wanted to wish me good luck?” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

Your eyes became half lidded, as excitement raced through you. “Yeah,” you mumbled, lips still pressed against the soft fabric of your pillow cover. 

“And you think I don’t need it.”

You hummed softly. “You’re a good player.”

He paused, amused. “I was under the impression you know nothing about baseball.”

You frowned. “Well, I’m not, just, like, saying it.”

“Oh sweetheart, I know.”

Your face suddenly grew hot, and not just at the nickname. Instead of insinuating you were just saying whatever came to mind to flatter him- was he implying that you specifically researched stuff for him? Or that maybe it was just him that you looked up?

Well, he was right. But that was far beyond the point. 

“All I’m saying is that you’re a good player. You got a problem?” Your tone didn’t match your words at all. 

“Nah… I actually quite like it when you compliment me. Go on, do it again.”

“What?”

“Say it again.”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. “You’re good at baseball.”

“That’s right. And what else am I good at?”

You froze, muscles tensing up, then fell back face first into your bed, buzzing with embarrassment. “Don’t push it, Ken,” you mumbled, face burning. 

He laughed again, slightly breathless this time, and you pulled your hand up and trapped it under your chest to stop it from sliding down below your waist. “Tell you what, sweetheart. If you wanted to wish me good luck so badly you called me while I was asleep, late at night-“

Your chest tightened with anxiety.

“-maybe you should come over and wish me good luck personally.”

You immediately shot up out of bed, heart hammering in your chest as you stared at the screen. “Y-yeah?”

“If you’re down.” His voice suddenly sounded slightly nervous.

“Oh, I’m down.”

“Great. I’ll see you th-“

You immediately cut the call.

You kicked the covers off of your legs, hands searching blindly for your keys as you pulled on a hoodie. A notification popped up on your phone- his number, a single text message, and address.

Oh, Lord, thank you for forcing me to go outside and undergo true human interaction that fateful evening. 

-

“Hey.”

You stood outside his door, face flushed from the cold and shivering with your hands buried in your pockets. He looked you up and down. 

“You got here fast,” he murmured, and you shrugged nervously. 

“Excited to see you,” you tried, and he laughed, hand reaching out, fingers curling around your wrist and pulling you inside, up against him for a split second before he moved away, much to your disappointment. 

“Get comfortable,” he said, flicking his head at the couch. You pushed your fists back in your pockets, following him over, where he flopped down, tipping his head back. You went to sit next to him but he grabbed your waist, pulling you into his lap. 

You let out a sharp breath. “What are you doing.”

��Helping you get comfortable,” he said nonchalantly, slipping his digits in between yours, kissing your fingertips. A shiver shot up your spine, and he tilted his head. “You know what? Let’s talk.”

“Talk?” You echoed.

“Yeah, get to know each other better.”

“We got to know each other at the dinner,” you pointed out, and he rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah, and after that too, right?” He remarked. Your face slowly turned red, making him grin. “And I said better, baby.”

“Fine, better. What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything. Just ask me a question.”

“Fine.” You thought hard, but with him pressed up against you, hands on your thighs, it was hard for you to think clearly. “How’d you get into baseball?”

He tilted his head. “It made my parents happy watching it, so I thought…” He looked down, and smiled softly. “I thought, if I could do that, if it would make them cheer like they-“ he sighed, cutting off his sentence. “Then I’d have to. You know?” His thumbs were rubbing circles into your skin. 

You leaned over, running your hand through his hair, pushing it away from his face. “That’s… sweet, actually.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “Did you think it wasn’t gonna be?”

“Considering how you act-“ you jabbed him in the chest, and he smirked. “-no.”

“How exactly do I act?” 

You paused, then frowned. “I don’t know, confident?”

His hand went from your thigh to your hip. “What’s wrong with that?”

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Nothing.”

“Exactly.” His fingers dug into your skin. “So, why’d you become an author?”

You swallowed. “I like stories.”

He laughed. “Is that it?”

You smacked his chest. “Obviously there’s more. I’m just not good with words.”

“You’d think, being an author…”

“Whatever!”

“Don’t you work with words for a living?”

You stayed silent for a moment, then sighed. “I started daydreaming a lot when I was younger. I figured, if I could put those dreams down on paper, like other authors did, bring them to life, make people feel things-“ you shrugged, embarrassed. “Look, I don’t know. It just started with a massive maladaptive daydreaming problem.”

“Right.” He hummed, fingers splaying across your skin, creeping under the hem of your top. “For the record, I think that’s sweet too, you know.”

Your other hand was still buried in his hair. “Thanks,” you mumbled, feeling his breath on your lips.

“Maybe I should read one of your books some time. They’re really popular, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, then your eyes suddenly widened. “No way. No, you’re not reading them.”

He laughed, amused. “Why not? What’s stopping me?”

You glared at him. 

“What did you say you write?” He continued. “Romance?”

Your face burned as you quickly looked away. “It’s not just that, okay?”

He hummed, eyes fixed on your collarbone, a few faded, barely-visible bruises. “Right. You ever include, like, sexual stuff in your novels?”

You almost shot out of his lap and threw yourself out the window right then and there. “Huh?” You spluttered. “What do you mean?” Yes, yes I do.

“Like, smut, or whatever it’s called. You write that?”

“How’s that relevant?” Your voice was slowly rising in pitch, and he smirked.

“Nothing, just wondering why you don't want me to read your stuff so badly. Plus, I could figure out what you like.” He tapped his finger against your side, and you swallowed. 

“I’d probably like anything you do,” you laughed, albeit breathlessly. He raised an eyebrow. 

“Or you can tell me.”

You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. He smirked, a subtle roll of his hips making him grind up against you not going unnoticed. You sucked in a harsh breath. 

“I bet you write down every little fantasy you have onto that paper, yeah?”

“I type it,” you retorted, albeit breathless as your body responded to his touch, involuntarily bucking your hips. His grip on them tightened, holding you in place as he clicked his tongue. 

“So you do write that sort of stuff.”

You bit your cheek to smother a whimper, instead worming your hand down to palm his growing bulge. His breath hitched visibly, a muscle in his neck tightening as you stroked gently. 

“Maybe,” you breathed, eyes glittering. 

Getting off of him, you sank to your knees, nestling yourself in between his legs. You pressed a kiss to the tented fabric, making him tense up underneath. “Now, you want me to ‘wish you good luck personally’ or not?”

Your hand unzipped his trousers, and you could feel him holding in a breath as you pulled his length from his boxers- throbbing, a pearl of precum on the tip. You could feel your saliva gathering in your mouth as you swiped your thumb across it, making him flinch and almost buck up into your hands. 

“You know,” he said, voice wavering. “Maybe I’ll win the game from this alo-“ he cut off with a light groan, lips falling open and head tipping back as you pressed your lips to the tip, tongue flicking out in tentative kitten licks. You locked your eyes onto his as you dragged your lips down to his base, licking a long strip up his shaft. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hummed, and he shuddered as your tongue languidly traced a vein, his eyes lidded as his hand came to bury itself in your hair. 

Another curse, alongside your name, fell past his lips as you wrapped your lips around his head properly this time, trying to take in as much of him as possible. It hit the back of your throat, which tightened, tears springing to your eyes. 

“Oh yeah baby, just like that,” he breathed, voice shaky as you bobbed your head up and down, hips bucking needily against you as he collapsed into a few groans and murmured praises. His grip on your hair tightened. “Fuck [name] I think I’m going to cu-“

You simply hummed in response, vibrations running down his shaft and making him twitch, eyes innocent and wide-eyed, a betrayal of your lewd position. 

The look alone was enough to tip him over the edge, and his fingers curled around your locks, yanking your head away from him as he shook, his cum dripping down his length. You reached for the box of tissues on the table. 

After cleaning up, he looked down at you, and frowned. You tilted your head. “What?”

“You have a little…” cupping your face in both hands, he pulled it to his, tongue darting out to lick up a trickle of saliva that had escaped the corner of your mouth. It made you burn with desire, and you turned slightly to press his lips against yours. 

“Good luck,” you whispered against him, and he pressed back in, teeth nipping at your lower lip. 

“After I win,” he breathed, “I’m taking you on a proper date.”

You flushed. He pulled away, your chin in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him. 

“And that’s a promise.” 

[thetriumphantpanda]

be my Venus of the stars | general marcus acacius

Summary | He's been visiting you for months, fresh off the battlefield, to be cleaned and reborn, but this time, something is different, this time, he might finally touch you back.

Pairing | General Marcus Acacius x F!Reader

Word Count | 2.8K

Warnings | Set in a bath-house, it is suggested that reader is a sex worker, The General™️ is dirty and needs a bath, as historically accurate as I could make it, use of Latin terms of endearment, explicit smut, handjob, fingering, oral sex (f), unprotected PiV, creampie, marking during sex, mention of ancient roman methods of.... not getting pregnant, no use of y/n, reader is a blank slate but does wear a dress.

Authors Note | Listen, I know we know literally nothing about this man, but what I do know is that he looks like a needs a bath and a nice lady to help him destress... so here we are. Leave it to the archaeologist to fall head over heels for the roman general, right? Whilst my ancient archaeological interest has always been Greece, you best believe this is right up my street. We won't talk about the amount of academic papers I read to make this as historically accurate as possible. I hope you love this, and if you do, please consider reblogging, commenting and screaming with me in my ask box!

Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Divider by the ever wonderful @saradika

He’s weary, his body drooped from the weight of his armour, but you suspect there are other things that are weighing him down too.

He’s been gone a while, sent away to some far-fought battle, never knowing if the view of his back when he leaves will be the last you ever see of him or not.

As he always does, he drops a coin purse onto the table, sliding it across to the bathhouse owner, before he turns, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Always you, only you, he’s never paid attention to anyone else in this damned place and he never will. His face is covered in dust, dirt and grime, his clothes in no better shape - you know you have your work cut out for you, but you find that when it’s him, you don’t mind at all.

It’s a familiar dance, how he follows a few steps behind you, the clinking of armour filling the hallway as you lead him to the private bath. You do as you always do, and open the door, letting him move inside as you let the door click shut behind you.

The hour is late, candles the only source of light, the sounds from the street below filling the silence as you ready the water for him. Warmed already, you drop a few rose petals into the water and pick out the oil you know he likes. It strikes you then that he’s not undressing, something he normally does himself. Instead, he stands at the window, staring out into the darkness.

“It is ready, sir.” You speak softly, motioning your hand to the bath when he turns around.

“Come,” he all but whispers, “Help me.”

You step closer, following his lead as he starts to undo whatever straps keep his heavy armour in place, dropping his hands when he knows you’ve got the hang of it. You take it off, piece by piece, setting it gently on the ground until he’s just in the under layers he wears.

Night is falling, and the candles in the room and the orange light from outside bathe him in gold as he motions for you to do the rest. Your hands, trailing up his body, lifting the tunic he’s wearing under his armour, over his head. There’s a hiss of pain as he lifts his arm, then a sigh of relief his tunic is gone, and it’s at this moment, that you realise he hasn’t stopped looking at you.

This man, born and bred for the fight, with brown eyes softer than you’ve ever seen staring down at you as you undress him.

“You can touch me.” You offer.

You look at him, eyes through eyelashes, as his roam across your body, draped in cotton and pinned in just the right place to accentuate every inch of you - it was a gift from a wealthy customer many years ago, a traveller who had taken to you, promised to take you with him but left you with nothing but a nice dress.

He goes to reach out, but stops short of touching the material, “It is such a pretty dress,” he muses, stepping back from you to let the final garment he’s wearing drop to the floor, “I must bathe first.’

You aren’t shy in the way you look at him, you’ve seen him without clothes more times than you care to admit, you’ve touched him, made him sigh, made him cum more than once, but he’s never once reached out to you. But there’s something different tonight, something charged, and as he walks towards the bath, muscles in his back rippling as he does, you wonder if tonight might be the night you finally know what it is to be touched by him.

He lowers himself into the warm water, groaning as he settles his back against the metal, warm from the water and from the fire lit to keep it that way.

You do as always and kneel beside it, picking up the small bowl on the table next to you. You scoop some water into it and let it drain across his curls, his head tipped back because he knows this dance. Fingers run through his wet hair, freeing his locks from the weeks of dirt and sand and blood and fight, until the water runs clear.

Then, you move onto his body. It’s arguably your favourite part, letting your hands run across his skin. He rests his arms on the lip of the bath, a well-rehearsed dance now, and lets your pour the scented oil onto his skin. You massage it in, thumbs digging in where his armour has left marks, easing weeks of tension with firm presses. You use the strigel to scrape the oil and the dirt off until his skin is clean.

Only once you have used your hands to rinse him off do you consider moving lower. You always do, run oil soaked hands up and down his legs under the water, feel his muscles tighten when you drag them higher, which is how it always ends up with your firm hand wrapped around his cock. Your fingers dip below the water but his strong fingers grip at your wrist as they go to drift lower to his legs.

You let him guide your hand, your eyes meeting his own chocolate-brown orbs, which are blown wide and dark, as he shows you what he really wants. No preamble this time, as your fingers meet the skin of his semi-hard length.

“I haven’t finished.” You purr at him, letting your fingers close around him anyway.

“I find I don’t care,” He speaks back, tone low, “I have been gone for weeks, this is all I want.”

You watch as his head tips back and his body lowers into the water when you start the languid pumps of your hand up and down his cock, gripping tighter when you reach the tip, loosening when you move down. You’ve seen him for years, you know how he likes it, slow to start with, faster to bring him over the edge.

There’s something different this time though, of all the years he’s seen you, he’s never once touched you, only ever a tight grip on your arm as he comes, or a drag of his thumb across your cheek when he leaves. His grip tightens around your wrist enough to still your movements, then, he’s dragging your hand away. You wonder for a moment if you’ve done something wrong, until he shifts and stands.

You’ve seen him without his clothes enough times to know every dip of his body, ever mark and scar that he’s accumulated, but as he stands now, water dripping from his skin, cock hard and heavy in front of you, he looks nothing short of God-like. All the statues in all of Rome could never compare to this man in front of you.

Standing from your place on your knees, you watch as he steps from the bath, water pooling on the floor as he walks towards you. He lets a hand drape across your waist, palm flat against your back as he pulls your body to his own, wet skin against dry garments, head dipped so his mouth is a whisper away from your own.

“Tell me I can,” He asks, “I want to kiss you.”

You let your hands entwine at the back of his neck, wet curls locked between fingers, so you can drag him closer to you. When his lips finally meet yours, all the years of wondering what it was like prove worth it. They’re chapped, dry from whatever battlefield he’s been within, but it’s perfect, as they slant across yours and he pulls your body tighter to his own. He’s gentle, unlike other men, his tongue is tentative as it drags across your bottom lip, mouth opening against your own as his tongue melds with yours behind your teeth.

There is movement that you only register at the last moment, when the backs of your knees hit the bed in the corner of your room. You tumble down upon it, lying and watching as he watches you, fist tight around his own cock as you start to undrape your dress from your skin. His eyes rove across your body when you finally reveal yourself to him, spreading your legs for him, letting your hands cup your breasts.

“You do this for everyone?” He asks quietly, settling himself between your open legs, his cock resting against your mound.

“Maybe,” You respond, “But you’re the only person I want to do this for.”

“Do they treat you well?” He murmurs, laying his body across your own, the weight on him on top of you making your cunt pulse.

“Some do, some don’t.” You shrug, cupping his face with your hands.

“Any of them make you come?”

You shake your head against the bed, “They come here for their own pleasure, sir.”

“My pleasure is your pleasure,” He whispers against your ear, “Tell me, has anyone ever kissed you here?”

One of his hands drags down your body, his hips lifted enough to let his hand cover your cunt.

“N-no,” You choke, the heat of his hand stifling against you, “They h-haven’t.”

“Would you let me?”

You nod, words failing you, as he lets his mouth drag down the naked skin of your body until his broad shoulders are settled between your thighs, pushing them apart, spreading you obscenely wide for himself.

His mouth is hot as it kisses the skin of your pussy, soft feather-light touches to every inch of skin. His thumbs pull your folds apart, baring every intimate inch of you to him, and then it’s all ecstasy as that wonderful mouth clasps around the bundle of nerves that you know so intimately of yourself, but others seem to forget.

It makes you buck your hips into his mouth, pressing further into the feeling of absolute bliss as the tip of his tongue flicks fast and then slow across it in undeterminable patterns. One of his hands splays across your stomach to keep you still, as he switches from the tip of his tongue to the flat. You can hear the slurping from between your legs, can feel your slick leaking from your cunt at his ministrations, the moans he lets out when his tongue dips lower to taste you - he’s enjoying this just as much as you are, a man committed to making you feel good before anything else.

There a knots twisting in your stomach, a fire that you know only from your own hand spreading across your lower body, you’re close, and you think he knows it too.

He brings his mouth back to your clit, lips enveloping it whole as he sucks it into his mouth, rolling his tongue across it as you feel two of his fingers slip inside your wet cunt, curling upwards almost immediately.

“Gods,” you breathe out, letting fingers tangle in his quickly drying hair, “I’m- oh fuck - so close.”

He continues just as he is as your body starts to convulse. Your eyes clamped shut, sweat pooling in crevices you didn’t know you had, until his tongue flicks just right and you’re snapping, coming undone. Body arched into his mouth as your cunt clamps tight around his fingers, as pleasure bursts across every inch of your skin. His tongue doesn’t let up until you whimper quietly that it’s too much, chest heaving and vision blurry.

His body clambers atop yours once more, hot skin against hot skin, his lips at your neck as he fumbles between your bodies, hand guiding his heavy, hard cock to nudge at your leaking centre.

“Tell me it’s okay,” he breathes against your skin, “Tell me I can have you like this.”

You moan, hips moving upwards into his own, heavy arms wrapping around his neck, “I’ve wanted this for so long,” you whine, feeling the tip of his cock right where you want it, “Please,” you beg, “Please, put me out of my misery.”

One of his hands grips your chin, turns your face to his. He’s so close, his eyes burning with lust you’ve never seen before, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Look at me,” he begs, shaking your head a little when you close your eyes at the feeling of him starting to push inside, “I want to see you when I do this.”

So you do, eyes open and boring into his own as he slips his cock into you. He’s big, bigger than you think you’ve had before, your mouth drops open as he slowly feeds every inch of himself into your cunt, stilling and sucking in his breath when he can go no further.

“I have dreamt of this,” he speaks softly as he drags himself out of you, “Wondered what you would feel like,” then he pushes back in, all at once this time, “It is nothing like I imagined.”

His face is buried in the crook of your neck now, his hips pulling back only to push back in again, tip of his cock brushing against that spot inside you that makes you keen, fingernails digging into his arms as you hold on.

“Is it better, General?” You ask in his ear, “Am I all your dreams come true?”

He answers with a hard thrust of his cock, causing a shrill shriek from your throat as the tip bruises at the very depths of you.

“It is everything I wanted and more, carrisima.”

He pushes himself back from you, cock still buried deep, and gathers your legs, hooking them over his arms before he presses forward again, bending your body in a way you know will make you ache tomorrow.

His hips pull back, before the slam back into you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, as he sets a pace that you’re not even sure the God’s could keep up with. The room filled with nothing but the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, the wet squelch of your cunt sucking him in on every thrust, and the hot pants and moans from the two of you.

You let your arms reach around, palms against the toned muscles of his ass. You squeeze and dig fingernails into skin on each bruising thrust, head thrown back to let him press forward enough to suck at your neck, teeth nipping and tongue soothing. No-one but him would get away with marking you.

“I’m close,” he manages to choke out, “Tell me I can fill you.”

You’ve waited too long to feel him like this to deny him. You would go to the healer in the morning for a cyreniac balm, but all you wanted right now was to feel him claim you, to make you his in every possible sense.

“Fill me, General,” you moan, “Let me feel you, please.”

It does take long, his hips faltering, stilling into your on one final thrust. He growls into the night air, his cock throbbing within you, the feeling of his seed painting your walls makes you hungry for more. He collapses on top of you, softening cock still deep inside you, as you wrap your arms around him, run comforting fingers through his hair as he recovers his breath.

Finally, he slips himself from your heat and rolls onto his back, dragging you with him to drape across his chest, one hand on your lower back, the other placed atop yours on his chest.

“I go back to war soon,” he speaks quietly, mouth pressed to your forehead, “I-“ he stutters for a moment, “I’m not sure I will make it back this time.”

You lean up and press a soft kiss to his jaw, “You are lucky, Sir,” you speak, “I think the Gods look upon you.”

“I feel a premonition,” he explains, “I couldn’t go back without knowing what it was to have you.”

You move the hand you have on his chest to entwine your fingers with his own, “You must come back, I cannot live without you now I know you like this.”

He smiles a little, shifts the two of you so you are both led on your sides looking at each other. His big palm traces down your side, resting at your hip.

“I will try, mea columba,” he whispers, kissing the tip of your nose, “But for now,” he rolls you gently to your back, fingers trailing back through your folds, slipping inside you, gathering his come and your slick on his fingers, dragging it up to circle your clit softly, “We must make the most of the time we have left together.”

[irisintheafterglow]

um blah blah blah something about knight!katsuki tearing through panicked crowds to find you slumped behind a knocked-over table, paling when he sees the growing red patch under the hand on your side.

"shit," is all he manages to force out, and it's all he can say for the next thirty seconds while he tries to figure out how to get you out of here. "no, no, no. you're not fine, dumbass," he snaps when you insist that you're fine. he registers a figure sprinting towards him with an axe and throws a dagger from his belt without even thinking, the assailant falling onto the dirt. "this is all your fault," he mutters as he pulls you from under the table and into a nearby alley.

"i can't believe you're blaming me for my own assassination attempt," you exhale shakily, your breathing too uneven for his liking. "all i wanted was to pick some flowers."

"we could have had the flowers brought to the palace," he argues, raking a nervous hand through his hair. "but you wanted to see them straight from the farmer's market."

"there's not much we can do now that i am bleeding out," you groan, fighting down the bile in your throat when you see how red your hand has become. katsuki's hand gently but firmly grips your wrist, forcing it out of your field of vision.

"don't look at it. just look at me," he commands, scarlet eyes revealing his panic. for the first time in your history together, katsuki looked scared. "just keep looking at me, okay? i'm gonna move you to a safehouse a few blocks away."

"no, please," you plead with him, grabbing his wrist before he can loop his arms under your legs. "it hurts when i move."

"the other option is for you to die, princess, and i'm not letting that happen," he swears. "i shouldn't have ever let this happen to you in the first place."

"it's not your fault," you whisper, your thumb smearing red across his cheekbone.

"isn't it, though?" the expression of pure grief on your knight's face disappears in an instant and, before you can protest, katsuki lifts you from the ground like you weighed nothing at all. you muffle a broken cry into your hand and squeeze your eyes tight against his chest, shaking from the white-hot arc of pain cutting your side. "just stay with me, princess. you're gonna be okay."

"it hurts, kats," you sob quietly and a part of him dies. "it hurts so much."

"i know it does, baby. just stay with me and the pain will go away soon."

katsuki isn't there when you wake up in the palace infirmary, but the news of the pub bloodbath where several members of the criminal underworld were being investigated reached you eventually. your knight was supposed to be leading the investigation, but dragon keeper kirishima revealed that, after the attack in the market, he had taken matters into his own hands.

he had a single thought as he inserted his dripping sword back into its sheath. long live the princess as long as he lived.

[tenjikufag]

Do you write for hsr? Can I ask for aventurine x tall top male reader? The reader is 6' 3" tall and he just can easily pick it up like 😩 If possible, I would like nsfw, but in any case, have a nice day! <3

Winner.

Aventurine x Tall!Male Reader

-smut, size difference, dom!top reader, general nsfw warning

-thank you for the request~

Aventurine was an average guy, extravagant but incredibly average at the same time.

He was know for being quite a reckless but skilled gambler, also known for his sturdy and quite intimidating tall partner and body guard, you.

You stood quite a bit taller than him, his blonde head only meeting just under your shoulders. Despite his cocky demeanour getting him in quite the.. situation at times, it was easily settled with your intimidating stature always leering over his shoulder.

And he loved it.

He adored you not only for being quite an attractive guard dog, but also how you manhandled him behind the scenes.

Just like now.

He clung to your torso and laid his chin on your shoulder, feeling the tickle of your fingers thrumming on his thighs as you carried him back to your hotel room. Well, it was basically an apartment at this point. You carried him as if he weighed nothing, securely attached like a child.. it made him excited if he had to admit..

“I’m putting you down.”

You gently placed him on his feet despite him huffing in disapproval, crossing his arms with pursed lips as you swiped the keycard to your room.

Soon as the door closed, his slim arms wrapped around your waist

“Why not reward me for the big jackpot I got for us~”

He shivered under your gaze when you looked down at him, knowing he’d piqued your interest.

A winner gets all the spoils, right?

He’s greedy, he wanted it all.

—

Aventurine whimpered, your large hands gripping his waist tightly- surely leaving a mark from every finger. Your cock was deeply buried into his ass, drilling into him at a speed that made his vision white; his head lulling against the wall you pinned him against. The males body was held up high against the wall to meet your waist and yet he could barely reach your face to kiss.

Tears welled in his eyes when your hand met his pathetic dick and started pumping it, spreading his precum all over his shaft.

You held him up with one arm and it drove him crazy, the helplessness and no opportunity to get away from the abuse his ass was getting almost made him cum immediately.

“Y-you’re too big! Slow down! Fuck!”

Biting down on his neck, he yelped and scratched at your back trying to keep his body from trembling.

“This is what you wanted though, all the spoils? You’re a winner, baby.. is your prize too big to claim?”

Grunting, you thrusted up into him, making sure to hit his prostate with every harsh singular thrust.

The male continued to gasp and moan, stupidly nodding his head at every word you said.

“Is.. too much..”

He pat your shoulder, pulling out and putting him down he fell to his knees and leaned his face onto your thigh.

“Is.. is there any other way to claim my prize?”

He huffed, his tongue trailed up your thigh and the side of his face brushed against your dick.. smirking down at him, you roughly grabbed a handful of his hair.

“Claim it however you want.”

Delicate, soft, and unworked hands pumped your dick desperately and guided it into his warm mouth. He choked on it, mix of his spit and your precum bubbling at the corners of his mouth.

Greedily he chased for your load, but you pulled him off and picked him up with ease. Throwing him onto the bed, his small body bounced against it before being pressed deep into the sheets by your weight, entering him again and making him cry out.

He bit his lip trying to keep himself from drooling, from this angle he was filled to the brim and his walls clenched on your dick greedily- your grunts like music to his ears as his eyes rolled back and he came.

Gasping again, before he could catch his breathe you flipped him on top, making him ride you.. his legs barely held him up but that was no problem- you easily picked him up from the waist and lifted him up and down on your dick, a glorified flashlight to you at this point.

Aventurine moaned endlessly, being manhandled was his biggest turn on and he was working on cumming again pretty fast.

“You want the bonus? Are you greedy enough for it?”

You felt the knot coming untied in yourself, only needing the pathetic squeak of approval from the male to blow your load deep in his ass. As soon as he felt the warm cum in his ass he pathetically came on himself and almost fell over if it weren’t for you catching him.

As the two of you caught your breathe, you gently picked him up and packed him to the bathroom to wash him up. In your arms, his lids became heavy and the warmth, the security and safety he felt in your grasp was enough for him to be lulled asleep as the bath filled up.

[uravitypng]

Koutaro's kinks, let's talk about it 🤓 even better with our chubby reader🤩☝🏼

eeek !! i'm soooo excited to talk about him !!♡

praise- koutaro LOVES praise!! giving and receiving. he likes being told about how good he's making you feel and how much you love him. he likes praising you, if you have self esteem issues or you don't bokuto is going to do everything in his power to constantly remind you how wonderful and pretty you are. "so gorgeous baby, my pretty girl. just perfect, i love you."

size kink- his size kink kicks in whenever he's around you because you're just so soft and squishy (smaller than him in height too, because he's superrr tall) and he loves having you under him, his large form caging you in between his arms. "you look so good under me, i could just eat you right up." he's so much bigger than you and can pick you up like you weigh nothing, pressing your pudgy body against his harder firm body makes his head go fuzzy. he will manhandle you without even realising it, he just wants your soft small body where he wants you to be and will move you to make sure you are there.

breeding- boy oh boy does he have a breeding kink. the idea of filling you up for hours sounds like heaven. "come on babe, you can get that later. i'm sure you're sore. if you really want your charger i can get it for you," he thinks you don't know whats happening. you do. he doesn't want to have any of his cum drip out of you. it would be a waste, the only place his cum should be is in you with no chance of any spilling out.

daddy kink- he obviously knew about daddy kinks but he never thought he had one. the idea didn't seem super appealing to him and he never thought to ask anyone to call him it in bed butttt when you accidentally slip out a breathy moan of 'daddy' when he slides into you his pace becomes unsteady because holy hell did that sound good coming out of your mouth. his previously stated breeding kink is doubled. bokuto's super into it and it never fails to get a blush out of him.

the more common it's become with you both the more confident he will get in indulging himself with calling you 'mama/mummy' while folding you in half and plowing into you, making sure by the end of the night you end up with at least three loads of his cum in you. "that feel good? want daddy to make you a mummy?" "want daddy to fill you up?"

[jester-lover]

Reverse of the ask where TWST bois pick the reader up: Reader is surprisingly strong and scoops *them* up.

I think the bigger the dude, the funnier, but Riddle’s reaction would be hilarious to me as well.

Somewhere in the distance, Ashton Vargas just found his new favorite student…

OG Post! Something similar for the Jack fans!

Buff Girlfriend Casually Lifting Them

Featuring! - Riddle, Jack, Malleus, Sebek

CWs/ Fem! Reader, fluff, humor

Riddle

“Unhand me at once!”

Riddle is shocked, appalled, and redder than a strawberry the second he feels you hook your hands under his knees and neck and pick him up like a bride. His hands immediately flail around and land around your shoulders, increasing his embarrassment tenfold.

His demands quiet down once the shock of the situation soaks in. His girlfriend is lifting him up and carrying him around like he weighs nothing. He has always been aware that you’re physically strong, but he didn’t know you were this strong!

Riddle usually won’t like being carried, but on the rare occasion, after a long day of school and his duties, he’ll ask for a piggyback ride back to his room. He’ll use a very standoffish tone while asking, but the way that he presses his head against the back of your shoulder lets you know he likes it.

Jack

He is so flabbergasted. Jack is in shock.

While he is aware that you’re into fitness—maybe the two of you even train together—he never knew you were this swole.

Jack is blushing; if you look close enough, his hands are shaking. He’s just realized he’s found the ideal woman for him—kind, gentle, who could break him in half like a pixie stick…

Bragging isn’t in his principles, but he might have to gloat a little bit with his track teammates when you’re literally running around with him thrown over your shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I mean, you’re not even exerting that much energy; he’s astounded!

Jack will (very quietly) ask for you to lift him again, just because he can’t believe it and he needs confirmation that he didn’t just make up the situation in his brain.

“Wanna join me for my morning run? It’ll be good cardio.”

Malleus

He’s getting the princess treatment. Very happy to know he’s your favorite lizard.

Since Malleus is very tall and imposing, he’s not used to such blatant displays of affection.

Having a physically stronger girlfriend would be a point of great pride for Malleus, particularly if you were a human, because then your strength would have been something you'd worked hard on. Something you’ve earned.

Being carried around is no problem for him; he may laugh a little at your strange human whimsy, but he happily agrees to being carried about at any time.

By any time, I mean any time. You could pick him up in the middle of a crowded campus hallway, and he’d just wrap his arms around you, place his head on your shoulder, and let you lead the way.

“Child of Man, be sure to drop me off at my alchemy class; perhaps I’ll let you pick me up and take me to Spelldrive Practice afterwords…”

Sebek

“How dare you, human!”

Sebek is appalled at the absolute gall you’ve got to have to do something so unabashedly romantic; don’t you see he’s too repressed for something so affectionate?

His face turns so red, and he tries to shake out of your ridiculously strong vice grip. Once he leaps off of you, get ready for an hour-long lecture. Sebek is shaking in his boots, explaining to you how inappropriate your actions were and how if you wanted his attention, there were better methods.

Midway through, he kind of realizes how hot it was that you were literally able to pick him up and carry him away like it was no problem, which makes Sebek quieter than you’ve ever seen him before, contemplating his words.

He quietly asks you to pick him up again because he wants to test your human endurance! (Ignore the way his eyes lock in on your defined shoulders, okay?)

[thedroneranger]

Fireside

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Synopsis: Jake wants to make sure his wife's terrible work week ends with a bang.

Notes: Part of the To-do List collection. Shoutout to my BB™s that listen to me drone on and on about Jake (and Glen and all 32 teeth): @cherrycola27 @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32 🖤

Warnings: 18+ only; smut.

Word count: 3.3k.

This week was one of those weeks Mrs. Seresin had to remind herself she loved her job. Most of the time, her clients were a joy. Even her selective clients—she enjoyed the challenge they brought.

What made her sometimes rethink her line of work were the naysayers and women who were mean to her because their husbands had wandering eyes. 

She was not looking forward to potentially taking a client to court. Her drive home was spent on the phone with her attorney and accountant, revisiting the terms of her work agreement. She always had the option to terminate a contract but needed to weigh the financial loss.

Jake knew his wife had been having a rough week, and he was determined to end it on a high note. 

Many of his higher-ups had a soft spot for his wife, and he wasn’t afraid to use that to his advantage. Yesterday, he used it to ensure he was able to leave work early today. On his way home, he picked up some groceries to surprise her with dinner—any excuse to use the outdoor kitchen.

A sucker for his wife’s three-legged best friend, Jake also came home early enough to take Ruck for a run. After their jaunt, he prepared the things that needed to be marinated for dinner before popping upstairs to shower.

Mrs. Seresin was surprised to see his truck in the driveway as she neared the house. Tempted to rush her call, she patiently sat in her vehicle and finished it. She was not surprised that Ruck was the first to greet her as she entered the house.

It was silent as she set down her things and wandered around, looking for Jake. Finally, she stumbled upon him, barefoot, shirtless, clad in gray sweatpants—slung low on his waist—and messy, wet hair. He was dicing okra and tending the grill.

“Hi, chef,” she said as she slipped out the door into the backyard. He greeted her with his bright smile. Jake stopped and sat the knife on the counter as she wrapped herself around him. She rested her cheek on his bare chest, relishing the feeling of the hair there as they hugged. The tension in her body told him her day was just like the other four this week. 

Jake kissed the top of her head, and then she looked up at him by resting her chin on his pectoral. He leaned down and kissed her lips. She pushed onto her toes to deepen it. He smiled into the kiss, and then broke it. “You should shower while I finish dinner.”

She closed her eyes and pushed her lips into a pout, pretending to think about it. “Fine.” Feigning a whine, she untangled herself. He smacked her ass as she turned to head into the house, and then he acted like he’d done nothing as he went back to cutting okra. She glanced over her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at him.

The shower was a welcome reprieve from the day. She stood under the showerhead and let the water rush down her body. She replayed her day in her head before letting herself think about the evening with Jake. Curled up, with healthy pours of wine, next to the outdoor fireplace. Ruck at their feet.

Her thoughts of the evening ahead were interrupted as her stomach growled. Remembering she had skipped lunch, she quickly finished her shower to get to whatever deliciousness Jake was cooking. She had a hunch she was getting a signature Texas comfort meal.

Since his outfit was nothing but gray sweatpants, she decided on a silk tank-short set and a long cardigan. 

Ruck escorted her down to the kitchen where Jake was aerating one of their favorite red wines. She sidled up behind him and wrapped her arms around his narrow waist as he poured the last bit of the bottle into the decanter. She placed a few kisses along his spine, and then moved to stand beside him. She rested her palms on the counter as she patiently waited. Finally, he slid a glass in front of her.

Her lips curved into a soft smile. “Thank you.” She rocked onto her tiptoes to kiss him. Jake turned toward her, snaking his arm around her waist and pulling her to him. A moan escaped her as he licked into her mouth. “You were sipping while you poured!” she teased as they parted. 

He grinned, and then placed a kiss in the center of her forehead before he snagged his glass and headed back outside. “I should check the grill.” He sniggered as he walked away.

While he was grilling and sautéing, she wandered over to the fireplace. It was one of her favorite renovation projects in their home. She returned the smoke-stained, white-washed brick to its former glory.

Wine in one hand, she shuffled logs from the woodpile to the hearth, stacking them in the perfect formation. One match and a handful of fire-starter later, flames began to creep along the ridges of the logs. The wood began to char as the heat bled into the cracks.

The sun was beginning to set and it was going to be the perfect night. Cool enough the flames and a sweater provided an extra warmth, but warm enough not to be wholly dependent on the fire.

Mrs. Seresin poked and prodded logs, moving them to prolong the burn. Ruck sat just out of range of jumping embers and supervised as she worked.

Soon after the fire was blazing, Jake summoned his wife to the dinner table. Her chair was pulled out, and then he stood behind and pushed it in as she sat. She looked up at him and he bent over her to give him a thank-you kiss. 

Jake was no slouch in the kitchen, especially the outdoor kitchen. Her mouth watered as she looked at the spread on the table—fried okra, garlic parmesan crusted carrots and a quick-and-dirty smoked brisket that he had come to perfect over years sans smoker. 

“Oh! One more thing.” He jumped up and jogged over to the grill. She spied the wine bottle and topped off hers and his glasses while she waited. Finally, he came back over with a single-serve baking dish. 

The minute he sat the container down, she knew what it was. She smiled as he pulled the lid off to reveal crispy, bubbly golden macaroni and cheese. 

Jake took his seat beside her and began to fill her plate. As he filled his own, she moved her chair so they were angled toward each other and their plates touched. 

She watched Jake until he was finished and looked at her. “I hope this is helping your week end on a high note.” He gave his signature smile. 

It was infectious, and she couldn’t help but respond with a grin. “Mhmm, feed me some mac and cheese, and we’ll find out.” Jake stabbed a few cavatappi and fed them to her. She closed her eyes as she chewed, enjoying the buttery, salty combination that coated the noodles. They fed each other bites of brisket, okra and mac and cheese until their plates were empty. Never forgotten, Ruck got his own cubed piece of meat to enjoy. 

Jake shooed her away as he cleaned up after dinner, so she wandered back over to tend to the fireplace. The flames crackled as the charred wood crumbled into white ash, collecting in the hearth. She stared into the flames and nudged the embers with the poker.

“Might as well throw at least one more log on.” She turned to find Jake with another bottle of wine, refilling their glasses. He took a swig of his drink and then wandered to the logpile. He sidled up beside her to position the log among the embers. Once his hands were empty, he snaked them around her waist as he stood behind her and his lips met her temple. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his embrace. She hummed as his lips found her jaw and then her neck.

She pressed herself against him as he continued to kiss whatever bare skin he could reach. Using his chin and nose, he nudged her sweater off her shoulders to expose more. She obliged him, helping slack the fabric to rest in the crooks of her arms.

Her backside pressed against his crotch, which made him groan. His hands found their way to the waistband of her shorts. He practically growled as his fingers dipped to her bare pussy. “Before I go anything further, how exactly did you see the rest of the evening going?” The fire danced as she stared into it. They swayed ever so slightly while Jake ghosted circles on her pubic mound and peppered kisses on her neck as he awaited a decision.

A moan dropped from her mouth as he kissed her in just the right spot. She spun in his arms to face him and forced his hands to shift to her rear. Tucked under her sweater, one of his thumbs absentmindedly stroked her “good girl” tattoo. Her arms coiled around his waist as they stared at one another. 

“Well,” she began, “I was thinking I could sip wine on the couch while you ate me out.” Jake groaned and felt himself grow harder at the thought. “Or,” she continued, “it could be cathartic if you fucked me doggystyle over the back of the couch.” His breath caught in his throat. Her lip quirked ever so slightly at his reaction.

“Mmmm, I should’ve chosen white wine in case of spills.” Jake was shocked he was able to say his statement with a straight face. However, he did allow himself to look down where they were pressed chest-to-chest. 

The swells of her cleavage gave him thoughts of his cock between her tits… He needed to focus. “So my takeaway is, at some point, we should end up naked,” he clarified.

“Mhmm, yes.” Pushing onto the balls of her feet, she cupped his face as she kissed him. Jake practically melted into her. 

Her lips still on his, he followed her over to the outdoor sectional. Only then she broke the kiss to push him down and straddle his lap. His hands were immediately back under her sweater on her ass, squeezing and kneading. Meanwhile, Mrs. Seresin ground herself into his lap.

They continued to make out and she stealthily began to push his sweats down until his cock popped out. He groaned as the smooth silk of her shorts rubbed against him. She smiled as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. 

Unable to help herself, she positioned him between her pussy and her shorts, which allowed her to slide along his length. Jake felt her wetness. “Fuck.” He hissed as he leaned back, resting his head against the sofa and looking at her with hooded eyes. 

A smirk grazed her features. Without a word, she slipped off his lap. Jake groaned again, this time, at the loss of her body heat. He watched as she gathered the open wine bottle and their glasses. She handed him his glass. “Let’s drink some wine and enjoy the fire.” She kept Jake’s gaze as she took a sip from her glass.

Then she shimmied out her shorts and sweater. Jake helped her as she climbed into his lap. This time, her back to his chest. While his free hand came to rest on her lower belly, her free hand guided his cock into her heat. Jake’s head lolled back again as he reminded himself to take deep breaths. Nonchalantly, she sipped her wine as they shifted until they were both comfortable. 

Jake’s rough fingertips lazily swirled patterns on the exposed skin from her belly button to her cleft. Every now and then, he’d pick up his chin from her shoulder and trail kisses there. Mrs. Seresin was content as they watched the flames lick the inside of the chimney and the smoke tangle with the growing twilight. “The fire is getting low,” she said as she hopped off his lap. 

“Come back!” Jake whined and extended a hand in her direction. Realizing his begging was for naught, he leaned forward, tucking himself back in his sweats and setting his now empty wine glass on the table. Elbows on his knees and chin on his palms, he watched her tend the fire. Of course, Ruck was at her feet. Not in the way but close in case of emergency.

Happy with the fire, she turned to see him watching her. Her shoulders slumped a little and she pouted her lips. “Is the fun over?” She finished her wine as she came back to the table and filled both their glasses. 

“Not at all.” Jake leaned back with his hands laced behind his head. His half-hard cock glaringly obvious. “It’s a little chilly without you keeping me warm.” She grinned into her wine glass.

After setting her cup down, she ventured around the back of the couch behind him. Leaning down, she kissed the shell of his ear as her hands glided down his chest to his waistband. He closed his eyes as her fingers dipped into his pants. Meanwhile, she alternated between nipping and sucking his ear and neck.

Now he was at full mast. Legs spread wide to allow her the most room to work. One hand played with his balls, while the other ghosted along his shaft and around the head of his cock. Jake felt his muscles tightening more and more. “Keep this up, and I’ll be coming in my pants like one of the neighbor boys seeing you in your swimsuit.” 

“Mmm, could you not mention the neighbors right now.” She tugged his earlobe with her teeth. His chuckle turned into a moan. She continued to tease him, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one edging you?” he stammered out. 

She planted a wet kiss on his neck. “But it’s way more relaxing, and fun, for me this way,” she explained. His only response was to moan as she touched him just right. One more move and he was done, so to prolong him, she recoiled.

Jake almost came off the sectional. He looked over his shoulder to see her, cleavage pushed up just right in her silk tank, chin on her fists, looking at him. “Why don’t we play out that second scenario?” She winked. 

His million-dollar smile appeared as he leapt out of his seat. Their gazes stayed locked as he rounded the sofa. He watched in awe as she grabbed the bottom hem of her tank and pulled it over her head.

Seeing her naked never ceased to amaze Jake. She leaned against the couch back, arms spread to support her, and waited until he was standing directly in front of her. “You’re wearing too much clothing,” she told him, running her knuckle from his belly button to the waistband of his pants. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, never breaking eye contact. There was a split second she thought about disobeying but decided otherwise. Quickly, Jake discarded his pants and on his way back up, he kissed a trail from the round of her ass to her neck. 

Her elbows resting on the couch, she looked at him over her shoulder. His lips finally met hers, and his hands came to rest on either side of her, caging her in. She pushed against him as they continued to make out. He knew she was getting impatient. He smiled into their kiss, and she tugged on his lip. “Hey, now!” he teased.

She did it again and pressed against him again. “Will you fuck me, please?” Jake’s smile grew wider, and he looked into her doe-eyes. She wiggled against him again, and he grunted in response. 

“Since you asked so nicely…” Before she could reply, he buried himself in her to the hilt. A gasp got caught in her throat, and Jake covered her open mouth with his while his hand found its way to her neck. 

Zero hesitation, he immediately began a steady pace. He kissed her lips one more time before directing her to bend further over the couch. She melted into the cushion, pushing up onto her toes as Jake’s hands moved to her hips. As his pace picked up, a hand eventually came to the back of her neck, pushing her further into the sofa. 

Enjoying the manhandling, she was pliant in his hands. Her whimpers and moans kept him going. Soon, the only tension in her body were her walls squeezing him. “Fuck,” he groaned out as he continued pounding into her. It was total bliss for them both as he felt her juices dripping down his balls.

Jake’s voice began to strain. “Where do you want me to come, baby?” Her answer was barely coherent and a smirk crossed his features—he’d poke fun about fucking her speechless another time. 

Ready, he slowed as he felt himself beginning to spasm. He always enjoyed watching where they connected and the oozing white ring that formed as he continued to fuck her until he was soft. Slowly, he pulled out. One hand still resting on her hip, he used his free one to catch any fallout. 

Bottom lip tucked behind his teeth, he smeared his cum back on her swollen pussy. Her sounds spurring him on, he popped two fingers into her and stroked her G spot. “Ohmygod.” It came out as one word and her legs kicked off the ground. Jake caught her thigh to hold her steady as he continued to finger fuck her.

She supported herself on her elbows as she tried to look back at him. Jake leaned over to give her the sweetest kiss while his fingers were buried inside her. “Don’t. Stop,” she said between strokes.

“Yes, that’s it, baby,” Jake cooed. He was also enjoying her squeezing his fingers. So much so, his cock was on the rise. 

She drawled his name and said, “I’m so close.”

“Good thing cum makes the best lube.” She gasped and arched her back as he plunged back into her. He slipped a big hand between her and the couch, and pressed on her lower belly. Almost immediately she began to flutter around him. Jake held her steady as her toes curled and she moaned, lacing her hands together behind her head. Her face buried into the cushions.

Carefully, he untangled himself and unfurled her onto the couch. She gladly stretched out with an arm over her face. Jake leaned over the back of the coach and watched in awe. Finally, he moved to put his pants back on. Then he sat her up and helped her back into her silk set. 

Wine glasses full, he rejoined her on the couch. She cuddled into his side. “Cheers.” She held up her glass. Jake gently touched his to hers, and they drank.

“Was that a good way to end the week?”

She burst into laughter. Jake immediately bore a confused expression. “Good? Are you kidding me?” His expression morphed to match hers. “It was excellent.” She captured his chin between her thumb and forefinger, holding him for a kiss. When she let him go, she grabbed his arm to read his watch. He observed her. “We have a few hours left to make this week end on an even higher note.” 

“What do you have in mind?” He was smirking at her. She licked her lips as she looked at him. He could tell the wheels were turning. 

She slipped off the couch, placing her wine glass on the table. “Meet me in the outdoor shower in five.” She pulled her shirt back over her head, and then she turned to look at Jake over her shoulder. She was silhouetted by the firelight. “Then maybe we can go for a night swim.” It was more of a statement than a question as she strutted away. 

Enjoying the show, Jake stayed put and watched her until she was out of sight. Then he looked into the sky, thanked his lucky stars, finished his wine and followed her.

Visit my masterlist for more | Sign up for my tag list!

A kind reminder: Likes work hard, but reblogs and comments work harder 😈

Tag list: @taytaylala12 @galaxy-of-stories @awildewit @shanimallina87 @malindacath @violyn20 @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @blue-aconite @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @desert-fern @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @mavrellover91 @s-u-t @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @seitmai @abaker74 @startrekfangirl2233 @dakotakazansky @bradshawsprincess @damrlova @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @sweetwhispersofchaos @bellaireland1981 @fanboyswhore9 @hardballoonlove @catsandbooksandstuff @mygyn

[scruus]

✎ sub afab childe + dom amab reader notes: just rough filthy wall sex; dirty talk; degradation. Bitch i was horny when i wrote this. Again, NOT PROOFREAD.

It was really really REALLY fucking hard to do normal chores around the house when your boyfriend is roaming the entire place with those tight yoga pants that show off his plump ass so well. Forget chores, normal daily actions were now difficult to go on about without a boner in your pants.

And my god when he bends down to pick something up and his fat cunt just peeks at you from behind. Even eating a damn meal is making you sweat just because he likes to “stretch” himself and “do yoga” at the same time you’re eating dinner.

You don’t know who gave him the idea to do yoga at home and recommended those tight ass pants but you’re just praising that good old lad because it wouldn’t have led to the present situation.

Your arms hooked under his leg, carrying him like he weighs nothing. His back against the wall, arms around your neck and his mouth screaming whorish moans.

He feels you in so deep in his womb he fears you’re gonna split him open with the way you’re moving so damn rough and fast.

He didn’t even mean to tease you? He just was following the advice from his friends on how to stay fit these days.

But how could he complain now when you’re filling his cunt so well. Your thick cock just drilling into his sopping fat cunt and he can do nothing but cry and moan.

“You did this on purpose didnt you slut? You made sure i was looking at you all those times while you were bending down and showing that gorgeous ass to me huh?”

He wish he could deny it but his brain has turned to total mush so he just lols his tongue out and nods like a brainless bitch. Not even a few seconds has passed and he is already going dumb on your dick.

“Yea thats right, take that dick like the good fucking bitch you are ”, his cunt squeezes down on your dick so hard when you call him that and it just fuels your lust. Hugging him to your chest and groping that ass while you treat him him like a fleshlight.

“Ahn~ sh-shit am g-gonna cum w-wait”, he cries out, his hands clawing at your back, trying to slow you down but you just dont falter.

Your neighbors are probably gonna complain tomorrow about the loud and scandalous noises coming from your apartment but you give two fucks about it.

With a loud wail, his eyes roll back as he cums on your cock, his entire body shaking. His voice all hoarse and breathless as he mumbles your name. It looks like he won’t be able to speak without sounding scratchy for a while.

“We are not done yet hun”, you huff out in his ears as you carry him to your bedroom. “Huh?”, childe mumbles mindlessly not understanding your words but feeling a shiver run down his spine.

He will probably also not be able to walk for a while…..

[yayakoishii]

sleep it off | Ace x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Genre/Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Slight NSFW at the start and end, Suggestive, Established Relationship, kinda crack/silly

Summary: Ace falls asleep in the middle of your first time having sex together.

A/n: I have had this idea for a while but, there were multiple factors I had to consider before I wrote it. So, fair warning, I have no clue how actual narcolepsy works. It would be best if you read this as a silly fic based on his gag. Secondly, I have never written sex or sex adjacent scenes so, really sorry if this is awkward ;-; Other than that, I hope you enjoy reading this !!

also available on ao3!

"You better fuck me hard, commander," you whispered into Ace's ear. His grip under your thighs tightened at the words and he lightly growled, holding you even closer against him. You tightened your arms around his neck when he started walking back to his room with you in his arms. "Fuck, Ace, that's…"

You trailed off, cheeks burning at how hot it was that Ace could pick you up like you weighed nothing. Like yes, you knew he had to be crazy strong considering he's the second division commander, but having him actually pick you up was enough to give you butterflies in the stomach. Even the wolf whistles and jeers behind you only fuelled to make you flush harder, the arousal pooling in your gut.

Ace slammed the door shut with his foot when you finally reached and up close, you could make out his pupils dilated with lust as he gently placed you on the bed. You crawled backwards to give him space and Ace immediately hovered over you on all fours, trapping you underneath him.

"You don't know how long I've waited to have you underneath me like this," he looked equally flushed. In fact, Ace's eyes seemed to have a quality to them that said that he couldn't quite believe he actually had you.

"Mm, I think I have an idea," you teased him, hand reaching up to card through the bottom most hair.

"You will be the death of me," he groaned and sat up, straddling your waist just so that his weight wasn't on you. "Don't you think it's unfair that I'm the only one who's half naked here?"

"You're always half naked, though?" You laughed even as you removed the form fitting top you had worn solely for the purpose of enticing Ace into having sex with you. "Not that I'm complaining. It's just my luck that I get blessed by the sight of your abs every day without having to do anything for it."

"Returning the favour every now and then seems like a fair deal," Ace's eyes were trained on your body intensely. It made you squirm and blush harder but you focused on throwing your shirt over to the chair a distance away. (You missed but that was a problem for later, right?) "God, you are beautiful."

Without waiting for a response (not that you had one other than to feel pleased at his words), Ace dived right at your neck, pressing open, wet kisses at the juncture of your neck and shoulders. Every part of him was so much warmer and hotter than you expected and it felt like his lips were leaving a trail of fire. You keened at the feeling, back arching as he marked the way down to your chest and over the nipples.

"Ace–" you exhaled shakily, fingers automatically tightening in his hair. He went lower and lower, down your stomach and then suddenly, you felt him drop on top of you. His weight trapped your legs, his face poking into your stomach. The sudden sensation startled you and you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at Ace. "Ace?"

To your surprise, he had fallen asleep. Of course, you were aware of Ace's sudden bouts of sleep and found them endearing at times, but right now, you could only stare at his calm, sleeping face for all of two seconds before you burst into giggles.

He really fell asleep in the middle of your first time. You smiled softly at him as you scrambled to pull him up and settled him beside you in his bed. Although someone else might have been upset, you were too in love with this fiery idiot to not find it cute and hilarious. You gently pressed a kiss on top of his forehead and leaned over to turn off the light after you put on your shirt.

Curling up next to Ace's warm body, you fell asleep.

•

When you woke up, the bed was empty. It was just you and the crumpled up sheets that you had thrown off yourself after Ace made you sweat all night with his insanely high body heat. You sleepily sat up and looked around but it looked like Ace had already left.

He was a division commander, so he was busy a lot of the time. You didn't think too much about it and trudged back to your room and freshened up with a nice bath. It was normal to even miss him at breakfasts sometimes so you didn't realise until half the day had passed that Ace was avoiding you.

Unbeknownst to you, Ace had woken up and remembered what happened last night. He was mortified and embarrassed and didn't know how to face you after that. He fell asleep in the middle of sex?!! How could he have fallen asleep in the middle of the one thing he had wanted to do so desperately for months now? And you had even gone all out yesterday, dressing to seduce him (not that you needed it, but it sure had helped speed things up) so for him to fall asleep like that… You must be so upset with him!

Ace just ran out and started on his work, avoiding everyone else as much as he could. The other commanders were giving him suggestive looks or asking him how it was and all Ace could stammer out were nervous lies. There was no way he could let anyone find out what had actually happened. They would never let him live it down.

Of course, he already knew that he couldn't hide it forever. After all, you were definitely upset with him and might even break-up with him and then everyone would know what had happened the night before. And then Ace would have to jump off the Moby Dick in mortification and also as an apology to you.

"You're not being very subtle," Marco's comment made Ace freeze. The two of them were currently going through some data compiled by the recent investigation team. Outside, the sun was starting to dip beneath the horizon. "Did something happen with (y/n)?"

"Uh, no, why would you think that?" Ace didn't think he was this bad at lying. Maybe he was just terrible when it came to things related to you. Even he knew that his nervous smile at Marco wasn't convincing anyone, not even himself.

"Avoiding your lover after you finally have sex with them, for one," Marco said pointedly without looking up, "is a sure sign that something's not right. What is it? Was it bad? Did you have a fight?"

"I kinda wish it was that," Ace admitted, giving up on the papers in front of him and also on trying to hide what happened. Marco could see through him a bit too much.

"That bad?" Marco finally looked up with a raised eyebrow. "I'm curious what could make you say that but, regardless of whether you want to tell me or not, I'd say you better figure it out soon. (Y/n) is looking really upset, you know."

"I…" Ace sighed and buried his face in his hands. You were the best thing to happen to him. He had liked you for so, so long and when you accepted his confession (that had been a complete disaster too, what with a bar set on fire, his bloody knuckles and the bloody tooth you had found in your hair), it had felt a lot like a dream. You liked him back too and said yes even though he fucked up the confession. But now he had gone and fucked up again. You deserved better than all this, right? "I need to fix this. But I don't know if I can, or how to even."

"You could start by apologising for whatever you did wrong," Marco suggested.

"How do you know it was my mistake?" Ace pouted. Marco just smiled in amusement as he looked back to his papers again.

"Doesn't take a genius to figure out it wasn't (y/n)," he answered. "An apology and your honest feelings would help. I don't know anyone who would accept and forgive you as easily and quickly as (y/n) does."

Ace sat there in silence for a few seconds, thinking over the words. You deserved better, yes, but all that meant was that he had to better himself. It's not like he would just give you up. After all that time he had spent on trying to get you to like him back, he sure as hell wasn't giving you up without fighting for it. He would beg on his knees if that's what you needed, but he would get you to stay.

"Um, Marco?" Your voice startled Ace and his head snapped towards the door where you were standing nervously. "Could I borrow Ace for a few minutes?"

"Of course," the first division commander flashed you an easy smile. "Just make sure he comes back. He still has quite a bit to finish."

"I'll do it," Ace grumbled as he got up. You had come to him. You had made the first move. A part of him was sure that you were going to suggest a break-up but he told himself that he was jumping to conclusions. You wouldn't do that… right? "Let's go to my room to talk?"

"I was going to suggest that," you smiled weakly at Ace. The two of you walked in awkward silence; it was so unnatural and Ace hated it. Your relationship stood on the basis of your friendship and the ease with which you treated each other.

Once inside the room, Ace closed the door behind him and gestured for you to sit on his bed. You did so and Ace settled down next to you. Silence rang in the room for a few more seconds.

"Did–"

"Are–"

The two of you abruptly cut-off.

"You go first," Ace said hurriedly. You worried your lower lip between your teeth before you spoke again.

"Did I do something wrong?" Your voice was small. Ace had never heard you speak in such an unsure manner. You were fidgeting, playing with your fingers nervously. "You've been avoiding me all day, Ace…"

"I'm…!" Ace reddened in embarrassment. Rubbing the back of his neck, he turned to face you properly before he spoke. "I'm the one who made a mistake. I have been avoiding you out of embarrassment but, you deserve better than that. You deserve a proper apology for last night–"

"Apology?" You were confused. "For last night?"

"Yeah, I," Ace was confused by your confusion. Weren't you upset with him?

"There's nothing you need to apologise for last night, though?" You tilted your head in question. "An apology for avoiding me today would make sense but… why are you apologising for yesterday?"

"Aren't… you upset?" Ace flushed, looking down at his own lap. "That I fell asleep in the middle of our… y'know."

There was silence for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. Ace looked up in surprise, finding you laughing through watery eyes.

"You thought I was upset about that?" You were giggling and Ace didn't really understand it but it didn't look like you were upset about it. "Here I was, worried that I did something wrong and that you didn't want me anymore and you were avoiding me because you thought I was upset you fell asleep?"

"So, you aren't upset?" Ace asked, bewildered at your reaction. You beamed at him and shook your head then folded up your legs to inch closer to him. You straddled him and sat yourself on his lap and Ace automatically wrapped his arms around you so that you wouldn't fall.

"Why would I be upset, silly?" You smiled at him, eyes soft and full of love. "I admit that it was shocking but it honestly just made me laugh. It was unexpected but it's nothing so bad that you need to hide from me, Portgas D. Ace. I knew what I was signing up for when we started dating. Honestly, I'm just glad you fall asleep in moments like these instead of on the battlefield."

"Hey!" Ace weakly protested but it died down the moment you cupped his cheeks in your palms and kissed the tip of his nose. You were smiling so happily at him and suddenly, all his embarrassment and mortification from before felt silly. "Does this mean I get a second chance to prove myself?"

"I wouldn't be against a redo of last night," you trailed a finger down his chest as you spoke, "but don't you have some work to finish, commander–oof!"

Ace didn't wait to hear you finish speaking before he toppled you onto your back, his frame hovering over yours just like last night. You didn't resist and pulled him in for a kiss. Only after a few minutes of making out did you look up at him slyly, flush and with spit-slicked cherry red lips.

"I guess it can wait for later, hm?"

°•❀•°

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!! ♡

�� Taglist:

@toertchen | @boomboom-tanjiro2019 | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki

[milkywaydrabbles]

Your writing is so good, I love it!! If I may, I'd like to request #16 size difference with Rindou Haitani please. I just love the way you write him ❤️🫶🏾

A/N: Okay so this actually was a little hard for me? Bc Rindou's only 5'8/5'9 and that's not very tall, so I kind of went size difference as in build? With how strong he is I can imagine he's a bit beefier? and the kink really is only on his end, so he's a lil cwazy. Thank you for the request, I hope this is okay and that you like it! Thank you so much for enjoying my work! MWUAH

Size Difference x Haitani Rindou

 Rindou’s never thought much about his height. He’s never been the tallest in the room, he’s never been the shortest either. Conversations about height used to come up when he was in middle school, which were shortly crushed after he showed whoever was trying to run their mouth why his height doesn’t matter, not when he has the strength he does. Now, as an adult and Bonten executive it’s never brought up, there’s no reason to. It’s never been disadvantageous. He never cared. Even after he met you, it never really mattered much. Rindou was still a good foot or so taller than you. 

What he did start to notice around you though, was his sheer overwhelming build. Rindou was strong, naturally, so thick arms and strong shoulders came with the territory. And you were so small, needing Rindou to pick up heavy boxes for you to open jars here and there. He remembers the look in your eyes the one time you asked him to pick up a corner of the couch so you can clean underneath it (he decided to flex more than he needed to just to see you salivate over him.) It started becoming difficult for Rindou to concentrate the more he thought about how delicate you were, how strong he really was around you, until he couldn’t take it anymore. 

After a (particularly irritating--fucking Hanma) meeting with the rest of the execs he came home to the beautiful sight of you casually lounging on the sofa (in his shirt no less). “Hi baby” You chirped, noticing him at the door and bounced over to him for a proper greeting. You didn’t  even get to kiss him before he hoisted you up from your knees and slung you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. “Rindou!” He heard you gasp over him, and instead of replying he gave a smack on your ass. “Bad day, help me make it better pretty girl?” You knew it wasn’t a real question.

-

“F-fuck, Rin, wait--aah,” it was starting to become harder to breathe, Rindou was so overwhelming around you, strong arms tossing you around on the bed like you weighed nothing. Hands splayed on the back of your thighs, fucking up into you so hard you felt the bed shaking. Rindou saw how his hands engulfed your thighs, how small you looked under him--it was driving him crazy. Wild eyes roamed your body underneath him, folded in half and squirming, looking up until he saw how fucked out you looked: eyes rolling back, brows furrowed, mouth open--drooling. You were a fucking sight. It wasn’t enough for him, so he leaned forward more, pressing your knees to the sides of your chest and covered you with his broad body. You couldn’t help the screams you let out, feeling him so deep in your swollen pussy you swore he was in your throat. “Feel me, beautiful? Feel how deep I am?” Rindou practically growled in your ear, he wondered if you could even process the words he was saying. You nodded, barely, whimpering and crying as he humped into you. “S’deep, Rin--fuck fuck fuck, too much--” You cried as your pussy creamed around him again, his thick cock rubbing against your walls so deliciously it had your head spinning.

“Fuck, pussy’s so good baby” Rindou stayed panting in your ear, only thrusting harder when he felt your delicate hands claw at his back. You could barely get your arms around him in this position, he only furthered his ravenous thoughts of how tiny you really were underneath him--how he could break you in half just like this. In an instant he was off you, your juices spilling onto his thighs as he grabbed hold of your hair and pulled you up, relishing in how easy it is to throw you around. Rindou practically dragged you up with him as he sat up against the headboard, turning you around and immediately shoving his cock back into you as he sat you down on his lap, no time to breathe in between. “G’na fuck you good, pretty.” He mumbled against your skin, kissing your shoulder before his arms looped around your thighs, trailing up and clasping behind your neck--fucking you in a full nelson. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move with how forceful and strong he was. If you could see him, you’d know Rindou was so far gone inside your cunt his pupils were dilated, jaw clenched and sweat dripping from his temples. 

So small, so weak, so defenseless. Those words kept repeating inside his mind, telling him his sweet baby needed him, because she was so fucking defenseless against everyone, easily in harm’s way. “I got you baby, I got you.” He whispered against you, though you were so fucked out of your mind you couldn’t process anything anymore. All you could focus on was his thick cock, pumping in and out, in and out, abusing that gummy part of your walls that has you creaming and squelching, white ring all frothy around his base. “Fuck, g’na cum baby,” He panted like a dog, feet planted on the mattress and forcing you down to meet his thrusts, pumping into you until he couldn’t help himself and shot his load deep inside your walls, warm and sticky liquid keeping you stuffed full. Slowly, he let go of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and you trembled, still calming down from each orgasm he gave you. 

You found enough strength to lift yourself off his softening cock, his cum flowing freely now out of your abused hole. “Sorry, baby--think I overdid it.” He murmured, chuckling to himself as he laid down with you to hold you a bit longer, he’d clean you up later. “S’okay, Rinnie...Just--warn a girl before you throw her into the wrestling ring, jesus christ.” He couldn’t help but belly laugh, forehead against your shoulder as he calmed himself. 

“I’ll keep that in mind for the next round.” 

[sunflowerreid]

My Angel - S.R

Spencer shows you how perfect you are

Warnings : Soft dom spencer, mirror sex, use of sex toys, Sub reader, insecure reader, negative self talk

Never in your life have you felt like you were particularly good enough, the insecurities from your teenage years followed you all the way through to adulthood. You had the most perfect boyfriend in the world, no idea how you managed to get him but you were grateful for every second you spent with him, the trust and commitment issues you had developed from your ex didn’t exactly help, the fear that he would walk out of your life forever if you ever disappointed him or did something you thought was wrong is always looming in the back of your mind.

You’d been waiting for Spencer to come home from work when you had decided to try on the dress you had ordered, a mini black dress with a laced back and low cut front, on the model it looked absolutely gorgeous. But stood in front of the mirror now you regret wasting your time. Staring yourself up and down you saw nothing but disappointment, your shoulder blades stuck out too much, your stretch marks were peeking out from under the dress that came down to the top half of your thighs, your hair didn’t fall right and the low cut design proved just how small your chest was. Tears began to form in your eyes. How could he ever love someone like you, he must be joking around, maybe he asked you out as a dare, that explanation seemed more reasonable than anything else. Despite trying your hardest you couldn’t stop it as a tear fell down your face.

You didn’t hear the door open or close, the sound of Spencer’s footsteps on the soft carpet in the hall or the bedroom door slowly opening. “Wow, god you look gorgeous sweetheart” Spencer said softly as he admired you from the back, too amazed to notice the tears streaking down your face in the mirror. You said nothing, shying away from him as he got closer, “sweetheart?” He questioned walking towards you slowly, you’d never turned away from him before, always greeting him when he got home before jumping into his arms with a huge smile on your face. “Darling what’s wrong?” he panicked, noticing your tear stained face and reaching out for you. That pushed you over the edge, your eyes watering once again. “Please talk to me honey” he whispered as he reached out for you, “why are you with me Spencer, you can do so much better, you deserve so much better” you sobbed as he held you, walking you towards the bed as he place down you onto his lap, your head resting comfortably on his shoulder. He held onto you tightly, his hands around your waist as you calmed down listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Honey you’re the most beautiful, perfect person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, I love everything about you, everything, you’re the only one I want” Spencer whispered, reassuring you as you tucked your head into his neck, beginning to squirm in his lap. “Please can I show you how much I love you sweetheart, how much you should love yourself” he asked sweetly, waiting for a response as you nodded your head slightly, “Words darling”, “yes please” you replied shyly, your head still hidden in his neck. “There’s my good girl” he smiled as he lifted your head up to look at him, your glistening eyes meeting his.

Spencer took hold of your thighs as his lips met yours. The kiss continued, your insecurities being washed away as you shifted in his lap, your clit starting the throb from the lack of friction. He pulled away picking you up as if you weighed nothing as he walked over to the mirror, gently putting you down facing it. “You’re absolutely stunning honey” he smirked as he reached his hand down the front of your dress from behind, pulling it up slightly to rest on your thigh as he pulled your panties to the side, his fingers gently circling your clit in a teasing manner. You whimpered, your eyes closing as your head rolled back resting on Spencer’s chest. “No darling, I want you to look at yourself” he said in a serious tone as he kissed down your neck, his fingers pressing down slightly harder as you moaned quietly. “You have absolutely no idea how special you are sweetheart” Spencer mumbled into your neck, his fingers began wandering down slightly, pulling off your panties before slipping through your soaking wet folds. “Please” you gasped as he sank inside, curling his fingers up inside you as he slowly pulled them out before sliding them back in. “Look at yourself honey absolutely stunning”, “Fuck please Spencer please” you whimpered, begging him to go faster. “Such a good girl for me aren’t you honey, stop whining and you’ll get what you need” he said reaching into the dresser draw as he pulled out the small vibrator he bought for you.

“So pretty for me” he whispered in a calming manner, his fingers speeding up as you tightened around them. “God please Spencer please” you moaned, tears glistening in your eyes for the third time that night as you felt yourself getting closer, “Please can I cum please” you begged. Spencer reached round with his other hand reaching under the skirt of your dress as he placed the vibrator on your clit, “Cum for me sweetheart” he smirked as he turned on the vibrator. “Oh god I’m cumming Spence I’m gonna cum fuck please” you moaned loudly as you clenched around him “Come on honey, your doing so well for me” “FUCK” you screamed as you began to cum, clenching down hard onto his fingers before feeling another rush flow through you, squirting onto the mirror in front of you as Spencer moaned behind you. “Fuck you’re so pretty for me honey” he groaned, his erection confined in his slacks beginning to throb as you came down from your high.

“Please” you moaned gently, out of breath as he held you up from falling down. “You sure honey? We can just go to bed if you can’t carry on sweetheart I know you’re tired” he said sweetly managing to keep his composure as all his blood was rushing down to his raging erection. “Please Spence please” you begged, barely able to stand upright. “I’ve got you honey, I’ve got you” he said reassuringly as he picked you up and placed you back on the bed. Wasting no time Spencer pulled down his slacks and boxers all in one, stripping himself of his shirt while his erection bobbed up and down, swollen, red and leaking profusely at the tip. “So gorgeous for me honey” he moaned as he slipped his tip between your folds, both of you throbbing in unison as he slid up and down teasing both you and him. You whimpered as he kissed you, lips connecting in a passionate kiss as he dipped his tip inside of you. “Oh fuck” he moaned quietly as he pushed inside of you, “so tight for me honey god you feeling amazing”. You moaned loudly as he pulled out before thrusting back in, quickly creating a rhythm as he placed his head into your neck biting down gently as he marked you. “Fuck” he moaned loudly as you tightened around him, his thrusts sped up as he humped up erratically, “So perfect for me, I love you so much, you’re an angel honey, my angel all mine” he groaned he could feel you clamping down as your orgasm approached, him following very quickly. “Need you to cum for me angel c’mon so close”, “Spencer” you shouted as your head rolled back onto the pillow as he pushed you over the edge. “Fuck that’s it angel” he moaned loudly as he began to cum, his tip twitching as he gave you everything he could.

Spencer collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you with his weight as he rested his head gently on your chest, listening to your heartbeat slow down as you caught your breath again your eyes drooping slowly as you melted into the mattress. Noticing the mess you’d made Spencer gently untangled himself from you hearing you whine before kissing you on the forehead, “I’ll be right back angel” he whispered as he walked to the bathroom, returning with a wet flannel to clean both you and the mirror off, he’d clean it properly tomorrow morning. He climbed back in bed with you, your head resting on his chest. “I love you so much honey” he said softly as your eyes finally shut. In that moment you knew everything would be alright.

[callsign-rogueone]

like snow on the beach - r.g.

Ridoc Gamlyn x marked!reader a continuation of love at first fight, part of the Ridoc and Sweetheart series 🦋 words: 2.8k 🏷: FOURTH WING SPOILERS. she/her, feminine reader (wears a dress for Reunification Day, referred to as a girl/woman). mentions of canon character death, mentions of dissociation and anxiety. you have a panic attack, but someone helps you through it. titled after the tswift song!

“Don’t look now, but that guy from second squad is staring at you again,” Liam says quietly. “At your four.”

You twist in your seat as if cracking your back, looking over your shoulder. Sure enough, the cute curly-haired boy who had handed you the dagger you’d won from Jack Barlowe the other day is looking right at you. 

“Say the word and I’ll handle him,” Imogen offers, picking at her nails with disinterest. She’s been itching for another fight since her last opponent tapped out after ten seconds. 

The tall redhead sitting across from him notices you’re looking in their direction, and he kicks his friend under the table. He looks away quickly, starting a conversation with the rest of the group. Not discreet at all.

“Hurting anyone in Sorrengail’s squad wouldn’t go over well with Xaden. And look at him. He’s harmless,” you defend. 

“He definitely doesn’t want to kill you,” Liam agrees. “He’s just smitten.”

You glance to your right again. He has his back turned now, still engaged in conversation with his friends, who are all laughing at something he said.

So he’s the class clown type. Interesting.

Imogen scoffs. “He can bark up that tree all he wants, but we all know it’ll never get him anywhere.”

--------------------------------------

And bark he does. You can’t shake the guy and his sunny personality. He’s everywhere you are, always having something to say, some shameless line to drop on you.

“If I make this bullseye, you have to let me take you out for dinner. There’s an amazing pasta place in town, you’ll love it.”

“No,” you say flatly.

“You don’t like pasta?” He asks, and you know that if you say you don’t, he’ll just offer something else. 

“I do. But we’re not going out.” 

He misses by an inch and a half anyway.

You pick up one of your own blades, weighing it carefully in one hand before pulling it back and letting sail. It lands to the left of his, in the dead center of the target.

He doesn’t look embarrassed in the slightest. “Alright, we’ll stay in and work on my aim. Just you, me, and a whole rack of knives. What do you say?” 

“I’d say that putting us in a room with one weapon is a bad idea.”

He grins. “There’s just something undeniably sexy about a woman who wants to kill me.” 

“I don’t want to kill you.” It’s true -- you have no ill will toward the guy, you just wish he’d quit while he’s behind.

“That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

You falter for a moment, thinking about it. You don’t think you’ve ever been objectively mean to him, just blunt in declining his advances.

“You’re moving your arm too much,” you say instead, yanking your dagger out of the wood panel, but leaving his where it stands, off-center. “Less in the elbow, more in the wrist.”

You don’t stick around to watch him try again.

--------------------------------------

Nothing seems to discourage him, not your dry responses nor being ignored completely. He’s determined to keep chipping away at your shell, but why?

“Is your dragon mated? I was thinking we could go on a double date. Aotrom’s an upstanding guy, she’d like him.”

You can’t even begin to imagine the conversations this guy must have with his dragon. Is he as weary of the boy’s enthusiasm as you are, or is he encouraging this behavior?

“I’d consider it if he wasn’t missing so many teeth,” Rhith muses. “But he’s a bit old for my taste.” 

“Their personalities wouldn’t mesh at all,” you answer, as if you’re speaking about Rhith and Aotrom, and not you and Ridoc. 

“I think if she gave him a chance, she’d change her mind,” he says slyly.

“I don’t date men under six foot.”

He mimes taking a knife to the chest. “You wound me, sweetheart. But I promise I can make up for it in all the ways that matter.”

“With that dazzling sense of humor?” 

“I was going to make a dick joke, actually. But I’m glad you think I’m dazzling.”

You roll your eyes, leaving.

--------------------------------------

You have never considered yourself vain, but you’d spent a full minute admiring your reflection in the bathroom mirror before heading down for the festivities. 

The formal dress looks incredible on you. Tight in all the right places, the cut highlights the muscle you’ve gained since starting the term at Basgiath, but it covers enough to still be somewhat professional.

You don’t need jewelry -- your rebellion relic is the perfect accessory, the black swirls forming the illusion of a lace sleeve up one arm, complimenting the black satin draped over your skin.

You’d even fixed up your hair for the occasion, freeing it from its usual sweaty braids and washing and drying it carefully, letting it fall over the exposed curves of your shoulders. Simple. Perfect.

Imogen hadn’t hesitated to hype you up when she saw you, her jaw dropping at the sight. “Holy shit, girl, you look hot. If you’ve ever wanted to fuck anyone in the quadrant, tonight would be the night to do it.”

You laugh. “I’ll be perfectly content to have a calm night. Some boring speeches, some fireworks, and then straight to bed.”

“Suit yourself,” she calls, headed off.

“Someone should tell Amari that she’s missing an angel.” 

You don’t need to turn to know who it is, but you look over your shoulder at him anyway.

Ridoc continues to wax poetic, a lazy smile on his face. “You are a goddess among men. The kind of woman bards write songs about and men go to war over.”

“How many drinks have you had?” 

“None,” Sawyer answers for his friend, sounding like he could use one himself. “This is just the way he is.”

Ridoc agrees, grinning. “Stone cold sober, gorgeous. I want to remember this sight forever.”

You laugh at his bold absurdity, and the light, clear sound goes straight to his heart.

He beams even brighter. “You laughed. That’s a crack in the armor.”

“You’re a menace to society, Gamlyn.” 

“Gods, I love it when you’re mean to me,” he says with a dreamy sigh. “I’m gonna write about this in my diary when I get back to my room.”

“Goodnight,” you say, ending the conversation, or trying to.

“Someday, sweetheart,” he calls, watching you walk away. “I’ll get there someday, I know I will.”

--------------------------------------

You should already be on the flight field, but the fear gripping your heart has your boots stuck to the stone ground of the courtyard. You’ll be no use to your friends in this state, anyway. You need to relax.

You close your eyes for a moment, picturing the meadows of Tyrrendor. A dozen blue butterflies materialize in front of you, the gentle motion of their wings as they float through the night air soothing your nerves.

“Whoa.”

You startle, and the butterflies vanish, your head snapping toward the voice. 

Ridoc stands a few yards away, still in his dress uniform, though he’s undone the first two buttons of the shirt, rolled up the sleeves and ditched the jacket entirely. A few dark locks fall across his forehead, loosened from the gel that had been holding them earlier.

He looks good like this. Too good.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he offers. “I’ve just never seen anything like them before. They’re beautiful.”

You compose yourself quickly. “They’re native to Tyrrendor. They don’t live anywhere else on the continent.”

“You’ll have to show me the real ones sometime,” he says, smiling.

You raise an eyebrow at the implication that you’d be bringing him home any time soon.

He continues, not missing a beat. “I may look like a hotshot dragon rider, which I am, but we both know you’d be the one in charge between us. I’d do anything you asked, sweetheart.” 

“Anything except leave me alone?” you ask, regretting the sharp words as soon as they enter the air.

He’s silent. Maybe you’ve finally proven your point, proven to both him and yourself that you’re no good for him, that you don’t deserve the starry-eyed reverence he’s afforded you for months.

A whistle echoes across the courtyard, a three-note gliss you’d recognize anywhere; the one your parents had used to call you inside for dinner when you were kids.

You don’t turn toward the sound, still looking at Ridoc. For the first time ever, he isn’t smiling at you, and it feels like the world has stopped turning, that the sun has burnt out and the moons have disappeared from the sky.

You’re sick with guilt, struggling to form complete sentences. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… that was a really fucked up thing for me to say. I just… I don’t understand why you-”

“Hurry up,” Garrick calls, impatient. “Xaden is pissed.”

“You should go,” Ridoc says softly. “We can talk about this another day.” 

Why is he looking at you like that after what you’d said to him? Why does he still care about you? Why did he in the first place?

“Be safe,” he adds quietly, and that’s enough for you to finally move your feet, to run toward your foster brother, to follow him and Xaden to gods-know-where for their final assignment. 

Garrick’s words go in one ear and out the other as you race toward the flight field. It doesn’t matter where you’re going or what you have to do, only that you come back, that you see Ridoc again and tell him the truth.

--------------------------------------

The next few days go by in a blur, devoid of color. You’re barely aware of your existence, just going through the motions to keep yourself alive. You sleep, you eat, but your dreams are blank and the food tasteless. 

You settle onto the cold stone of the main staircase, leaning your cheek against the banister. 

It’s easy enough to conjure a few of the soft blue butterflies, watching them flutter about above your head. You reach forward, extending your hand to one, and it lands on your finger, flapping its wings gently.

“You’re getting really good at that,” Garrick says quietly, sitting down on the step above you. 

Five years living as siblings has attuned him to your emotions -- he knows that something is wrong, that something had been wrong even before you were sent on this suicide mission and lost two of your friends. “Do you want to talk about what happened when I came to get you?”

You really don’t, but the words come out anyway. “I fucked up,” you whisper, still watching the butterflies. The sight of them only reminds you Ridoc, of the soft awe that had lingered in his eyes even after they’d disappeared — until you’d snapped at him. Gods, the look on his face…

You push the thought away, and they fade back into air. “I hurt him, because I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” He asks. There’s no judgment in his tone, just gentleness; he genuinely wants to understand.

“That he was being serious, that he actually likes me,” you answer. “I keep pushing him away, but he keeps coming back, he keeps looking at me like… like I mean something to him, and I don’t understand why. He doesn’t know me, he isn’t one of us, he isn’t even in my squad. There’s no reason for him to care about me.”

Garrick lets your words hang in the air for a moment before he speaks. “I thought it was fitting that you developed an illusion signet.”

You look up, waiting for him to elaborate.

“It took me a full year to figure you out when we met, to realize that the person you really are on the inside doesn’t match the person that you show people. I think he saw right through that perpetual stone-faced look, saw the girl that I’m proud to call a sister.”

“You really think so?” You ask quietly.

“I know so.”

You rest your head against his shoulder, a gesture that he knows is equivalent to a tight embrace from anyone else -- you’ve never been a touchy person. 

You’ve never been good at feelings, either. “It’s too damn quiet in this house,” you say after a moment, changing the subject.

He laughs. “It really is.”

--------------------------------------

Ridoc is standing in front of you.

You’re relieved at the sight of him, that no terrible fate befell him in the week you’d been away, but you can’t handle the conversation that you need to have, not when you feel like your heart is going to give out.

“I can’t do this right now,” you say, but the words don’t come out as strongly as you’d hoped, not enough air in your lungs to speak properly. “So if you could find somewhere else to be, that would be great.”

In true Ridoc fashion, he isn’t discouraged by your protests, kneeling down next to you. “Can you look at me, sweetheart?”

His seriousness confuses you enough to comply. You raise your chin, stunned at the softness in his eyes -- you’ve never been this close to him before. He’s beautiful.

“I’m gonna check your pulse, okay?”

You nod silently, allowing him to extend a hand toward you. Two fingers press into the side of your neck, feeling for your heartbeat. 

He’s never touched you before. His hands are warm.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Basgiath,” you answer easily.

“Good. How long have you been sitting here?”

“I don’t know. Since we got out of formation?”

He realizes exactly what upset you — that must have been your first flight since you got back from War Games with the rest of the marked ones.

“I don’t know what you saw out there, and you don’t need to tell me, but whatever it is, it can’t hurt you right now,” he promises. The genuine sincerity in his voice has the tears falling faster. 

Through your blurred vision you see him open his arms, and you lean into them without hesitation. He’s so warm that you can’t help but melt as soon as your skin touches his. 

He rubs your back, speaking softly. “You’re okay, pretty girl, you’re safe. Just breathe with me, okay?”

You attempt to match the even pace of his chest rising and falling against yours, deepening your shuddering breaths.

“That’s it,” he soothes. “You’re doing great.”

Grief comes flooding out of you, and you clutch at the fabric of his flight jacket to remain upright. “I miss them so much,” you sob. “They didn’t deserve to die.” 

Liam and Soleil, the two marked ones that hadn’t come back with you. 

“I know, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

He continues to rub your back, murmuring soft reassurances to you until your grip on him has loosened and your breathing has slowed.

You’ve relaxed, your heart no longer pounding as it had been when he found you, but you still don’t want him to go, you couldn’t bear it if he left right now. “Stay?” You ask in a small voice.

“Of course,” he answers, pulling back to sit beside you. “As long as you need.”

Your tears have dried, leaving you with a headache and a hollow feeling in your sinuses. “Why did you help me?” You ask quietly, looking out at the river. 

He wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Because it was the right thing to do. And because I can’t stand to see pretty girls cry.”

“Of course you’re back to cracking jokes already.”

“I’ve never been joking with you,” he says, shaking his head. “I meant every word I said to you, sweetheart. You’re beautiful, but you’re so much more than that, too. You’re capable, strong, witty, kind, caring, gentle… everything about you is good, and I wish that people would see past the relic on your arm and realize that.”

You blink at him, stunned.

“It’s true,” he says softly. “When you smiled at me that day at challenges, I knew that there was a soft heart under all that steel.”

A soft heart. A sweet heart.

There’s a moment of quiet while you work up the courage. 

“Is that pasta place still there?” 

He laughs, perhaps a little too loudly, but you’ve grown to love that sound, and the way it shakes his chest is comforting, like the rumble of a thunderstorm when you’re safe and dry indoors. “I think so.”

“Wanna go there tomorrow? Together?”

He grins from ear to ear. “Are you asking me out right now, sweetheart?”

You look over at him. “Yeah. I am.”

“This is going in the diary too, for the record.”

You can’t help but laugh, leaning back against him. If only for a moment, your anxiety has melted away.

You feel like you could face anything, as long as you have Ridoc to come home to.

[korpuskat]

Worth

[Ao3 Mirror] Pairing: Ramattra/Reader (GN, has a vagina) Rating: E WC: 1.7k Warnings: Self Image Issues =

Happy one year anniversary to me writing for Ramattra!

=

“A year…” You murmur, tracing along the sharp angles of white. Even sitting in his lap, you have to look up at him, raise your arms up to touch his faceplate. “I can’t believe it’s been a year.”

In turn, his fingertips run along your cheeks, mimicking the motion and returning all of the adoration. “I know. I am… frequently in disbelief that you are here at all.” His synth is toned down, as close to a whisper as he can get.

“That I’m here?” You sputter, stroke one ribbon cable away from his shoulder. “Ramattra, I never understand why you’re here. You-” You laugh at the incredibility of it all; “you’re a leader, a hero. I’m nobody, I don’t-”

“Stop.” His hands on your face stills, turns firm against your jaw. Embarrassment heats your cheeks. “You don’t…” He starts, voice harsh- before his vents click open, releasing a quiet burst of steam as he self-regulates. “You cannot fathom why I choose to be with you?”

You can't meet his gaze. The embarrassment of having admitted it burns as badly as the fact itself that you don't feel worthy of him. You want to brush it off, to pretend you hadn't revealed a crushing vulnerability, but you can't will your lips to move, to lie to him.

Ramattra’s hands skim over your shoulders, down until they settle on your hips. “I am… truly sorry if I have not made you understand.” His thumb dips lower, slides along the crease between your thigh and hip. “May I show you?”

You shiver at his touch, but still you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Deep-rooted shame won’t let you even entertain the thought, so you deflect: “You don’t have to, Rama’, it’s okay, really-”

“But I want to.” He asserts.

Even though you do want his touch- will always want it no matter your thoughts on your worth- it’s difficult to allow yourself. But when he wants to… It’s hard to argue with that… because it would be selfish to say no, right? So carefully, quietly you swallow as much of your apprehension as you can and nod.

Ramattra’s hands shift under your immediately, lifting you, picking you up as though you weighed nothing and pulling you forward while he simultaneously drops onto the bed. His weight makes him bounce softly, but through it all he moves your entire body effortlessly, repositioning you how he likes. And how he likes is depositing you directly on his faceplate.

The view instantly makes you blush- only gets worse as Ramattra’s hands resettle your hips until the hard line of his chin is pressed firmly against your clothed sex. It’s obscene; all you can see of him is the upper half of his faceplate and the cables of his hair that have fanned out around him. You stare into the dark slits that hide his optics and tremble with nervous energy, waiting for an explanation. If Ramattra had a mouth- which you’re fairly sure he doesn’t- his intentions would be obvious. But he doesn't and you're with him holding you against solid metal.

“Tell me,” His vocoder clicks on. His voice is soft, cautious- but the effect is immediate. You gasp, clutch at his hands as his head vibrates between your thighs. Your sudden jolting makes him laugh, the vibrations wavering in time with his ha ha ha, then returns to an even pace as he continues, “I suppose it works, yes?”

As he stops talking, the vocoder clicks off, returning to stillness. You pant, “What… How did you even think of this…?”

“You told me.” Again the plates of his face transmit his voice, purring more confidently now. “You would laugh and say you liked it when I spoke while you kissed me. That you could feel my voice buzzzzZZZing.” The emphasis makes you gasp, squirming against him for more.

“Rama-”

“Shhhh,” He intones and you whine, holding ever harder onto his hands. The cadence of his voice slows, lingering over syllables just to tease you, meandering through towards his point and with it the vibrations against your pussy do the same: “I want you… to consider exactly… where you are right now… exactly what I am doing to you.”

You whimper pitifully, grinding your hips onto the smooth surface of his face to return to the pleasant vibrations of before. But you do obey, peaking your eyes open again to take in the sight of him. He’s gorgeous, dark hair splayed out over the sheets, offset by the bright titanium white of his faceplate, the burning reds of his array. If it were anyone else, perhaps you feel like you’re supposed to be the one in power here, but the grasp he’s keeping over your hips and his cool, unaffected voice buzzing right against your clit keep it very clear. You're here because he wants you to be.

“Do you think I would allow nobody to do this, hmmm?” His vocoder never clicks off, hushing down to a quiet rumble, humming in his throat just to keep it on. Shame makes you duck your head, the implicit praise already too much with the insistence of his voice box purring relentlessly. And distracted as you are, you don’t even realize he moves- one large palm catching both your wrists. The other slides up, under your shirt and immediately tweaks a nipple. You yelp from the pressure- just a touch too sharp to be entirely pleasurable- and Ramattra’s voice raises up again, “That wasn’t rhetorical.”

“No!” Without his hands at your thighs, your hips move in longer strokes, rutting against the inseam of your pants.

His hand at your chest relaxes, spreads out to massage rather than pinch. “No, what?”

You whimper, squeeze your eyes closed. You can’t say it, can’t admit it yourself- and Ramattra’s hands shift, sliding back down to your hips. No longer keeping you pinned against him, he lifts you up to your knees- and for a moment your heart drops in the cold fear of disappointing him.

He tips his head towards the button of your pants. “Take those off.” You don’t move, head swimming in the whiplash of emotions, of praise and self-doubt. But when he speaks again you all but melt, haphazardly undoing the clasps with shaking hands. “I want to feel you.”

The air is cool on your heated skin, but still not as cold as his faceplate. Even with such proximity to his main processors, the outermost layers of his armor are still chilly- makes your hips flinch as you lower yourself back down onto him. Your body soon heats him- even faster as you blush at the obscenity of your bare pussy settling onto the pristine lines of his plates.

“Comfortable?” Ramattra purrs, voice quiet and testing.

You shudder and gasp; without the muffling layers of your clothes it’s so much sharper, radiating more into your thighs. You nod, but adjust slightly, shifting, spreading your lips until your clit presses to his hard metal.

“There are so few things I truly envy in humans,” His voice rumbles softly, but directly against where you need it most. You shiver and grasp blindly below you, burying both hands in his thick, cabled hair as though you could pull him any closer. Even with his voice still lowered, it’s so intense you can’t quite process what he’s said at all until he continues: “That I cannot taste you is high on that list.”

You shiver, buck your hips against his smooth metal faceplate. Already you've made him slick enough for your pussy to glide against him without any resistance. And this only makes him purr. A soft vibration that draws a moan from your lips, a stutter in your hips.

“You're perfect.“ He says, and despite the direct feedback against your clit, you still pinch your brows, turn away from the praise. But he doesn't let you run. He reaches up and draws your chin back towards him with one cool hand. “No one is as important to me as you are.” He holds the noise, a rough rumble that makes your thighs shake and clench around him.

You bite your lip, want to deflect-- but he beats you to it.

“Shhh,” Louder now, forcefully buzzing- “No one.” He doesn't speak, only hums a smoother, consistent vibration that makes you gasp, rubbing your pussy against his face and grabbing his arm, his head for any support. And he doesn't stop. He holds that same note, makes it easy for your hips to chase that sensation, rutting against him as the heat inside you rises.

“Rama,”

His hands are on you again, sliding down to hold your hips in place, to pull you ever closer- the smooth rumble stops as he speaks again.

“Go on. Show me again how gorgeous you are. Cum for me, just like this.” He purrs again, his voice vibrating right into your clit- and with his hands on your hips you have nowhere to go, no way to escape the incessant rumbling. Pressed so firmly against him, all you can do is shiver and gasp and tug on his cable locs.

The pull surprises him- and he moans. It's all it takes, his own pleasured noises turned to vibrations make you tumble over the edge, grinding onto his face as much as his hands will let you as he purrs his satisfaction. He holds you there, keeps rumbling away until your twitchy aftershocks fade and you begin to slump down, spent and boneless.

He lifts you off himself, adjusting your limp body until you can lay on his chest. You stay there, listening to the soft hum of his internals, his fans spinning heat away from his processors, the vents on his shoulders finally opening to cycle in fresh air.

“Thank you,” You murmur after a while, sneaking a small kiss against the rib-like armored bands on his chest.

He waits a moment, before sighing and stroking your back softly. “It hurts me that your self image is so poor.“

Guilt pierces the afterglow. ”I know.“

Ramattra catches your mood shift instantly. He draws your chin up again, to meet his gaze. Instead you're faced with the cooling, shiny mess you've left on his chin, the proof of his devotion. ”The next time you have such thoughts, tell me immediately. I will correct them.“

The implication makes your cheeks heat again. ”What if I keep having them, what if they don't stop?“

His fingers shift, running his thumb along your lips. “Then I will keep correcting them until they do.”