#like maybe tone it down just a little bit i would have been convinced even before that other thing happened 🙄

[fairy-angel222]

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—your boyfriend does not appreciate you, but his uncle toji does.

pairing: toji x fem! reader

content: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, choking, petnames, praise, a little degradation, toji’s hot ass has tattoos, belly bulge, cumming inside you

You couldn’t really pinpoint when things went wrong. When your boyfriend just lost interest in you. You couldn’t even date back the last time you had been fucked. Simply turning his body when you tried to start something, or using the excuse that he wasn’t in his mood and that you needed to stop being so needy.

But how could you? You just needed to feel something. Anything. You were so tired of using your fingers when he left for work. Or the shower head on your clit when you showered alone, which was now always.

Your relationship was failing, but you couldn’t find it in you to break up with him.

You were quite confused when your boyfriend invited you over for a dinner at his parents. Getting to meet all his family as he introduced you with a wide smile, hands on the small of your back to guide you from person to person.

There was somebody who stuck out like a sore thumb. And you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man was probably twice your age and most definitely twice your size. Tall, broad and muscular with tattoos of all shapes and sizes trailing down his neck and onto his toned arms.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the heat you felt in between your legs as you ogled the greek god infront of you. With his messy black hair and dark eyes, a smirk spread across his handsome face as he tilted his head to stare you down. Hands in his pockets as he strolled towards you, your hand gripping your boyfriend’s shirt as you felt yourself getting smaller and smaller under his gaze.

“Now who’s this pretty thing?” The deep voice questioned, looking down at you with the subtle bite of his lip as he let his gaze run over your figure. “You’re not gonna introduce your lil ole uncle to your girlfriend?”

Your boyfriend scoffed, rolling his eyes and pulling you closer into him. “I have no need to. Now beat it.”

You frowned at his harsh tone. Toji’s hands raising in defense as he chuckled. “Just trynna be nice.” His smirk widening when he turned to face you fully. “Now, what’s your name doll?”

Your knees grew weak at the deep rasp of his voice, avoiding eye contact when you felt yourself face getting hot. “uh.. y/n, my name’s y/n.”

Toji hummed, grabbing hold of your hand and bending down to place a kiss to the back of it. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He winked.

“Okay that’s enough. You can go now.” Your boyfriend fumed, your eyes never leaving the older man’s as he took his leave, leaving you with a short. “Nice to meet ya, doll” before he walked away.

“We’re leaving.”

Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s words. “What? Baby why? Your family seems so nice we can’t just leave.” You tried to convince him.

“We can when you’re looking at my fucking uncle like he’s a five course meal.”

You resisted the urge to scoff, maybe you wouldn’t have to if he did what he was supposed to. “I promise you, i wasn’t. Now let’s at least enjoy an hour for dinner before we leave. Okay?”

Your boyfriend only scoffing before shrugging your arm off of him and walking away into the kitchen.

Great. This was just what you needed.

The dinner was awkward for you. Your boyfriend wouldn’t talk to you and kept glaring at his uncle. Who only added fuel to the fire by sending short smirks your way, his muscles flexing as he ate.

You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, fidgeting with the food in your plate as you bit down on your lip.

“Y/n, dear? Are you okay?” your boyfriend’s mother asked in genuine concern. “You have barely touched your food honey.”

You gave her a smile. “Sorry, i’m just feeling a little sick right now.”

“Oh dear, would you like to go to the bathroom? Darling, show her the way.” his mom insisted. Your boyfriend not even sparing you a glance when he spoke, “I’m sure she knows the way, mom.”

You sighed, a piece of you missing the relationship you once had. Giving a tight lipped smile and assuring her that you knew the way before getting out of your seat and heading to the nearest bathroom.

You stood staring at yourself in the mirror, rubbing at the bridge of your nose while telling yourself to get your act together. You gasped when the door swung open. A smirking Toji closing the door behind him and leaning onto it, his hands crossed over his chest as he looked you in the eyes.

“You know, for a girl pretty like you, you sure are stupid.” He laughed, “Don’t you see you deserve better than my scumbag of a nephew?” Closing the gap between you two until you were backed up against the sink’s counter.

Toji’s hand reached up to stroke gently under your cheek, trailing his finger across your lip as he bent his neck to look down at you. In turn looking up at him through your lashes when his other hand held onto your waist.

“You gotta know how a real man treats a lady. How a real man fucks. You want that doll?” Waiting for your shy nod of approval before sitting you on the cool marble top. Your legs hooked around his waist and your hands gripping the counter’s edge when his rough lips met yours. Kissing you hard before trailing soft bites down your neck, careful enough to not leave any marks.

You let out a moan, Toji’s hands moving to peel off his shirt so his rock hard abs were on display. Grinding lightly onto the hard surface with a whimper at the full sight of black ink spread across his pale skin. A grin on his face when he went back to attacking your neck, hand slipping under your dress and pressing against the heat of your panties.

“This wet for me already? I’m flattered.” His fingers making their way to rub between your folds through the side of the fabric. Collecting your wetness before dipping a finger into you. “Think you can take it doll? You’re so fucking tight. Practically a virgin again, how long’s it been since you were given a good fuck?”

You truly didn’t know the answer for yourself. Only moaning as Toji pulled off the lace material, spreading your legs wider and pulling his thick cock out the confinements of his jeans. You whimpered when Toji stroked his length, the size being bigger than anything you’d seen before. “‘S alright, ‘m gonna mold her round my cock.” he groaned, lining up with your sopping hole before slowly thrusting into you.

“Nnhg— so big, T-Tojii— can’t take it.” you mewled, Toji’s hand latching over your mouth to muffle your pleas as he forced himself deep into you. “Gonna make it fit doll, just sit real pretty for me and take it yeah?”

You nodded with a shaky moan, your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick girth as he bottomed out inside you. Grunting heavily at how tight you were around him, his cock so deep that he could see himself bulging in your stomach through the thin fabric of your dress.

Toji started off slowly. Your moans increasing in volume as he sped up. The burning sensation turning into nothing but pleasure as he fucked into you, ricking your body back and forth with each thrust.

Toji’s hand fell from your lips, the tattooed skin finding itself wrapped snugly around your neck instead. His cock grazing your gummy spot as he leaned into your ear. “This is exactly what you need doll. Need me to fuck that pretty little pussy so good.” he grunted. “Exactly what your dumb boyfriend failed to do.”

You could only let out a cry, your smaller hands holding tightly onto the arm around your throat. Digging your nails into his flesh as you moaned out into the air. Your lips parted in a string of mewls as the older man’s cock pierced deep into the depths of your insides. Fucking perfectly into your g spot before bullying its way to the entrance of your cervix.

The unfamiliar sensation making you cry out even louder as your head fell back. “T-toji- ahh— so good Toji, feels s’ good.” you cried, your legs trembling around him with curled toes.

“Careful now doll, as much as i would love for him to hear me fucking you right, there’s other people out there.” he teased, your pussy clenching when your eyes met his. Your eyes glassy and your head fuzzy as you were fucked into oblivion.

Letting out a whimper when his grip tightened unintentionally on your throat. Drool falling past the sides of your lips as your eyes fixed on his v line, up to his abs then further until you reached his face. Finding his dark irises staring back down at you hungrily before pulling you closer to him.

His large body swallowing yours when he pressed you up against him. Your moans and cries getting noisy again as you felt yourself getting close. “Tojiii— nnh, ‘m so c-close, ahh— gonna cum.”

“Yeah doll? Close f’ me? Gonna make a mess on this old man’s cock?” he rasped, broad hips still rolling hard into yours as he watched your mouth hang open slightly, your eyes rolling back before closing completely as you reached your high.

Body shaking and pussy spasming around him as your pussy held onto his cock like a vice, letting out a choked scream muffled by Toji’s knowing kiss as you came. Squirting messily onto his cock with the quiver of your hips.

“So fucking hot.” Toji groaned as he pulled away from you. Your breathing noticeably heavy as he fucked you through the aftermath of your orgasm. “Fuck, gonna cum. Where’d you want it?” he breathed.

And you let out a mewl as his thrusts grew sloppy, veiny cock twitching against your walls as he got ready to release. “Fuck, gotta hurry up and tell me doll.”

“Nnhg— inside, want you inside.” you moaned, “C-cum inside me.. please.”

Toji’s pupils dilated and his grin grew wide. “You’re a slutty one in disguise aren’t ya? ‘S my pleasure baby.” His thrusts becoming merciless as he slammed into you. Using your pussy to stroke his cock as you choked out little cries at the fast pace.

“Fuck, gon’ fill you up so good.” he panted, “Gon’ stuff you so full that you’ll be begging to be my good girl again.” his cock throbbed, “Shit— there we go, that’s it doll.” Spilling spurts of his hot cum into your cunt. Making you moan at how easily he filled you up.

Toji gave his final slow thrusts before he was pulling out of you, letting his cum seep out as he helped you put back on your panties. Trapping his seed deep inside you with a hum. “Feel better doll?” he smirked, giving you a short kiss to your lips and laughing as you tried to not let him go.

“Come back to me when you gain some sense and drop that asshole, okay? I’ll be waiting.” Pulling his shirt back on and tucking himself into his boxers, giving you a wink before trying to fix his hair. Your eyes glued onto his back as he walked out the bathroom door.

Leaving you touching your lips that just felt his tongue. Your heart beating faster before you were startled by hard knocking on the door followed by your boyfriend’s voice. “Can you hurry up in there? You’re making my mother think you’re dying or something.”

You closed your eyes and let out a breath, thoughts of Toji plaguing your mind and keeping you calm. “Coming!”

[norrizzandpia]

Let Me Be Happy. Don’t Be Mean. (LN4)

Summary: Y/n is not experienced in the realm of dating. For years, she has convinced herself that no man sees her as lovable. So, when a guy steps into the picture who checks off all the boxes, making her feel secure in his feelings towards her, she’s elated. However, when she goes to share in the excitement with her best friend, he ruins it all, along with it her happiness, by uttering three small words.

Warnings: language, mentions of grinding

Note: this is very very little women coded but nobody is related. You’ll see. Once again, this is a sad ending, but a happy one will be up soon. I just wanted to get something out to you guys because it’s been so long since i posted and im finally feeling up to returning to you all. Genuinely, i feel like this isn’t my greatest greatest work, nothing quite worthy of a comeback fic, but i hope that doesn’t deter you all <3 ill be back with some of my regular abilities soon just a bit rusty so forgive me lol

Y/n had never had a boyfriend. There were failed talking stages and men who stole longer-than-preferred glances at her, but there was never an official, labeled and definite boyfriend. A part of her life which her friends always teased her for, a part of her life which she was secretly so deeply insecure about. Throughout her twenty-two years spent on Earth, she had been told that she was intimidating, that she was “too pretty” to be approached, but, as high school passed and she graduated college without anyone putting in effort, the passing thoughts of “something is wrong with me” took hold. Maybe it was the way she dressed, or the fact she liked musicals; maybe it was the friends she hung out with, or the jokes she made; maybe it was her looks, or her smile; maybe her laugh was obnoxious, or she didn’t seem like girlfriend material. She could never escape the feeling that she was inadequate, that somehow, over the years, she had molded herself into a person that no one else would stick around for romantically. Somehow, she wound up unloveable.

Lando, in the beginning, was a maybe. Becoming friends with him was, if you asked her, one of the scariest things she had ever embarked on in her life. Famous, rich, and successful Lando Norris loved her company, even adding in a few questionable and suggestive comments in the midst of it all. Her friends, however relentless, had continuously talked about the possibility of Lando liking her, but she shut it down every time. With the way she had forced her brain to be wired, Lando would never see her as more than a friend. The comments about how beautiful he thought she was, though, she could never explain.

“Are you going to answer me or what?” Y/n’s eyes focused back to the man in her mind, sitting before her at his kitchen table and staring at her as if she had died and came back to life.

She leaned her body against the counter, “Yeah, sorry. What’d you say?”

He scoffed and laughed all at once, “You didn’t hear anything I just said? Are you okay?”

His eyes flitting over her face made her chuckle and shake her head, “Yes, I’m fine. I was just thinking about the upcoming projects I have for work.”

He nodded, though his slightly furrowed eyebrows portrayed confusion, “Okay… Well, Max invited us to go out tonight. There’s a new club a few blocks down that he got on the VIP list for. You in?”

Deciding that maybe going out would somehow remedy the strong belief that no man wanted her, Y/n nodded.

—

“Can you hear me?!” Lando screamed into Max’s ear. His best friend looked at him, a drink in both their hands, and laughed.

“Yes, I can hear you, dumbass! When you yell right in my eardrum, it’s hard not to! What’s up?”

Lando was hesitant before leaning in once more, his tone lowered an octave, “Who is that dancing with Y/n?”

Max followed Lando’s eyeline, finding his good friend grinding up against a man he couldn’t even recognize.

He shook his head, “I don’t know. At least, she’s having fun!” His laughter at his comment died down when he turned his head to see Lando pouting.

Max scoffed, “Mate, you can’t be upset with her venturing out. She doesn’t even know you think of her that way!”

Lando shook his head, “I don’t see her that way.”

Max shoved his shoulder, “All I hear is denial, denial, and fucking denial. When you wake up one morning and find out you loved her all along, don’t come crying to me when you realize you’re too late because she’s with someone else.”

Lando laughed it off, though the pit in his stomach made him want to puke up the alcohol he had consumed for the night. Maybe he had just had one too many, he told himself.

Yeah, it was the alcohol consumption.

Max’s piercing gaze leveled with Lando’s, liquor coursing through the Brit’s veins as he said lowly, “I’m sick and tired of that bullshit.”

Lando rolled his eyes, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Max nodded feverishly, “Yes, you do! You know I can’t fucking stand the way you shun your feelings for her! I know it’s probably a dick move on my part to tell you how you feel, but if you keep dancing around her, you’re gonna lose her. I don’t want to see that for you.”

Lando shook his head briefly, coolness flowing from him as if Max’s words didn’t strike panic within his blood, “I’m not going to lose her, Max. I think alcohol makes you overdramatic.”

Max groaned and stomped away, liquid sloshing out of his glass as he retreated into the crowd. Lando’s eyes were left to fall back on his Y/n. The man’s hands were on her hips, swaying hers against his as he kissed her neck. He hated the sight and he didn’t know why.

Truthfully, he did know why.

—

“If a guy visits you at work with your favorite coffee order, does that mean he’s interested in you?” Y/n waltzed into the sunlit living room of Max’s apartment, Lando sprawled out on the couch as Max scrolled through his phone on a big chair in the corner.

“Uh, yes.” Max replied quickly, before Lando had the opportunity of selfishly saying no.

Holding her phone in one hand and the other balled in a fist, Y/n blurted, “Are you sure?”

Max pulled himself from his slouched position, looking at her intently and not daring to see the way Lando was eyeing him. He could feel the fiery gaze on his shoulder, “No man is going out of his way to buy you your favorite coffee and come see you at a corporate office for .2 seconds. Trust me, Y/n, the man likes you.”

She nodded her head side to side, “Mmm, maybe.”

”He’s right.” Lando murmured, a heavy heart as he watched her gaze snap to his, as if his thoughts on the subject convinced her more of what was right in front of her.

Max side-glanced him, a war in his head as he tried to decipher Lando and whatever he was trying to accomplish.

“You think?” She whispered, looking down at her phone when it buzzed. A blush across her cheeks made Lando’s heart squeeze.

Did she smile that way when he texted her?

Lando cleared his throat, “What’s this guy’s name? Is this the same guy you were dancing with at the club?”

She nodded, “Yeah, it is. His name is Chris.”

“Last name?” He continued, listening intently for the information.

Y/n laughed, “What? Are you going to Instagram-stalk him or something?”

Yes.

”No. Just curious.” He smiled lightly. All the while, Max was rolling his eyes.

”Chris Greenberg.” She smiled back, a moment between the two where Lando seemingly couldn’t tear his eyes off the grin displayed in front of him.

He sat back, “Alright, most generic name I’ve ever heard, but okay.”

She shook her head at Lando, the smile still on her face as she plopped on the couch beside him.

His arm instinctively draped around her shoulders, his hand toying with the ruffled fabric of her shirt. Lando tried not to fall into the mess of her in his mind yet the soft skin under his fingertips made his mind get away from him. He didn’t want it to be real. He didn’t want the morning where he woke up and he found out he was in love with his best friend to come.

But, he also couldn’t bear the thought of Chris touching her in the way he does. He willed himself not to think about Chris seeing her naked or taking care of her in the way Lando always had. Maybe he had never kissed her, but he had held her hand in moments of pain and he had been there for her when no boyfriends had the privilege of being able to show up. Lando had always been something to her and she had always been something to him, they both knew that.

He wanted her to stay single and he wanted her to stay his precious girl.

And suddenly, he couldn’t deny what he felt for her.

On the couch, with Max a few feet away from them and his fingers only lightly grazing her warmth, Lando’s eyes turned to her and he gave into the pull that he had been fighting for years.

A minute away from begging her to see him for what he needed her to, her phone lit up between them. One singular notification lit up the screen, her lock screen a picture of them two after he had gotten his Silverstone podium. A notification which was from Chris, a blushing emoji next to his name.

His mouth opened from the words he so recklessly wanted to say, he realized what he was about to do: confessing feelings he found out about five seconds ago while Max was sitting next to them. So embarrassed and slowly reaching a state of distraught, Lando retracted his arm from her body.

Y/n grabbed her phone from the space between their legs, opened her phone, and giggled at whatever stared back at her.

Lando knew his face said it all. He was always facially expressive. If she had turned her head, or Max, they would’ve seen it written all over his face. The sickening realization that he was in love with the girl sitting beside him.

Part of him loved that they weren’t paying attention to him, but another part wished she would move her head a few centimeters, catch his eyes, and let him study the way she took his breath away.

—

“Where are you going?” Lando stumbled over his feet as he ran to the door. Y/n in a black, tight dress looking stunning had alarms going off in his head.

Her hand on the door knob, “A date.”

“Why?”

She laughed slowly, “Um, because? Chris asked me? I said yes?”

Lando’s hands rested on his hips, gray sweatpants slugging low on his waist as he stared at her, “Where’s he taking you?”

She mirrored his stance, “Why?”

He scoffed, “Because! I should know where you are! What if he tries to kill you and nobody knows your location?”

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully and opened the door. In the crack, Lando could see Chris standing against his car with flowers in his hand, looking like everything Y/n deserves and more. Chilling as he realized he’s trying to fight something that is not meant for him. Y/n doesn’t deserve him. She deserves someone who will sleep next to her every night, who won’t leave her every weekend for their job. She deserves someone who is available and dependable. He isn’t that. He will never be that. Chris already is that.

“I will be fine, Lan. Thank you for worrying, but Chris is a nice guy.” She smiled, not giving him room to argue as she slipped out and closed the door.

He stared at the wood for a moment or two, hearing her giggles from outside and knowing how taken she sounded. He wanted her to turn around, to open the door back up and say something that would give him confirmation that Max wasn’t right; that he didn’t realize too late the things he felt for her.

She would never come to the door and Lando would, after fifteen minutes of waiting and hearing the tires drive away, slink back to his bed.

—

She came to the door. Knocking frantically and rambling the moment Lando opened it, Y/n burst into his apartment.

Lando’s hands raised in the air, “Woah, woah, woah, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re saying.”

He watched her face light up before she took a deep breath and withheld his favorite smile, “The date went so amazing, Lan! He is so considerate and… and he listens! Lando, he sat there and listened to me ramble about my family, my friends, and everything else about my life and then asked me questions about the things I was mentioning! He likes the same things I do and he’s so cute and I can genuinely feel like he really likes me this time! He puts in the effort! He! Puts! In! The! Effort! Lando! Seriously, he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy!”

Even though he knew it before answering the door, her bursting summary of this perfect guy solidified it for him.

She came to the door, but she didn’t come for him.

He stared at her, his heart emptied out of hope as he watched her big smile dwindle down.

”Why don’t you look happy for me?” She cocked her head as he stared back at her, a dead expression adorning his usually calm face.

”I love you.”

Lando watched her face drop, a hopeful smile morphing into a void. Her bag dropped to her feet and she leaned her head forward, “Stop.”

He blinked at her, “What?”

She looked back up at him, “Stop, Lando. Don’t say that.”

He scoffed, “It’s true!”

Glistening tears pooled in her eyes, “Lando, stop. Don’t be mean.”

He shook his head, “Y/n, I’m not being mean. I’m being honest.”

She roughly wiped the wetness that had fallen to her cheeks before looking at him with such a deadly gaze, “No, you aren’t! This is so fucking selfish of you! For once, I’ve found someone that will put in the effort and that I can genuinely trust in making the right decisions when it comes to me! And, now, here you fucking are, telling me you love me! It’s fucking cruel! Can you just let me be happy just this once? Why can’t I get my chance to be in love? You’ve experienced it! Why can’t you just let me do it?!”

He took a step closer to her and she took one back, “I do want you to be happy! I want you to be with me!”

She crossed her arms, “Oh, and you’re going to make me happy?”

“I will try.” He whispered.

She memorized the heels strapped around her feet, “Not good enough.”

He reared back, “What?”

She willed her eyes to meet his, “Not. Good. Enough. Chris will be good to me, I know that. I can’t trust that you’ll be good to me or be good to me until you get bored and find someone else to have fun with.”

”Is that what you think you are to me?” He asked, his heart reaching out for her, but breaking into pieces for how she views herself in his life before he can get there.

She looked up at him, eyes reddening under the tears, “If I meant something to you, if you loved me, you’d want me to be with the safe option.”

His hand trailed up her arm as tears fell from his cheeks similarly to hers, “I can be the safe option.”

”No, Lando. No, you can’t. I want Chris. I can’t deal with whatever life crisis you’re in the midst of right now.”

He groaned, “It’s not a life crisis. It’s me realizing what you truly mean to me.”

She waved her hand, “Sure, Lando.”

She moved away from his cornering, taking steps toward the door before Lando stopped her, “Don’t tell me I don’t love you.”

”I’m going to. I won’t give up the first guy to genuinely show me I mean something deeply to him for someone else who just apparently figured out they loved me after years of spending time together.” She continued by confirming his deepest fears, “You’re not reliable. You can't always be there when I need you to. That’s fine. I understand, but I’m not going to put myself in a spot to get hurt for you.”

He pleaded with her, “Why can’t you just give me a chance?”

”It’s not worth it, Lando.” She stared at him, “Let me be happy.”

”You can be happy with me.”

She shook her head, “Everything looks clearer in the morning, including your feelings for me.”

”What does that even mean?” He questioned, her form retreating to the door and practically screaming at him to let her go.

She sighed, “I’m sure you’re just tired. I’m sure you don’t mean any of this. How could you? Lando, you could get anyone. I’m not the girl you choose.”

Tears falling harder, he exhaled a quick breath, “You are the girl I choose!”

”And how long until I’m not?”

A silence followed, one that gave her enough time to open the door and leave. What was supposed to be the start of a new chapter for her turned into a reference to a past one.

The past chapter in her life where she loved Lando just as he described to her seconds before and a chapter where she convinced herself he would never feel the same. Still, she believed he never would. That what he had said to her was an episode, some dream he was sleep-talking in.

Lando would never pick her in the long run.

Even when he said he would.

[messylustt]

a distraction? — miguel o’hara. drabble based on this writing prompt request.

your fingers tightened around your mission report as you made your way into miguel’s office. as always he’s stood, busy swiping and tapping at the multiple screens, different lights reflecting onto his monotoned face.

“uh, miguel?” you call. your sweet tone has his ears perking up as if he’s some dog. like always a scowl sets on his face at his own reaction to you. “mission report.” you slightly hold up the file in your hand as he finally turns his head to look at you.

cold. that’s all you feel and that’s all you see in his expression. maybe if you looked close enough, dared to actually look him in the eyes you’d see something far from a considered ‘chilling’ word. he lets his body drop down in front of you, grabbing the report.

“did you catch him?” miguel asks, briefly flipping through the papers. “i think i’d be pretty ballsy coming in here if i didn’t” you lightly chuckle.

miguel glances up his expression not having shifted as you press your lips together, quieting yourself. “yes, he’s all locked up”

“good. lyla.” he calls, the bubbly ai appearing by his shoulder “add this to the reports”

she mockingly salutes, earning your lips to quirk up a fraction, before she disappears with your report. “any troubles?” miguel’s almost strict undertone, makes your almost smile fall.

“none that needs accounting for.” there had been a small incident where the anomaly had gotten a hold of your wrist watch. it’s now partially smashed, and in the hands of hobie. you didn’t think you had the best of luck when it came to miguel so you decided it best to let hobie try and fix it before alerting miguel of your mistake.

“hm.” miguel hums, his gaze darting. what you didn’t know was that miguel couldn’t help but let every detail of you sink in. every time he saw you his eyes traced the same path. and when his gaze trailed along your wrist he paused. “where’s your wrist watch?”

you look down at your bare wrist. “oh, i just took it off. got a bit…irritating.” miguel’s eyes narrow as you try not to visibly gulp. “so, uh, if that’s all…” you go to step back, but miguel’s hand reaches out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist, simultaneously pulling you back (even closer than before), as his hand brings your wrist up to his face.

you slightly stiffen at the contact, brows furrowing. miguel brushes a claw over your wrist earning your muscles to twitch. he takes note of this. and drawing back your suit he’s presented with a discoloured bruise, wrapped around your arm in a circle. “what’s this?”

“normal…anomaly catching…injuries.” you say, your tone attempting to sound convincing. miguel’s claw brushes back along your wrist, his gaze now narrowed.

“it’s where your wrist watch was.” miguel states.

“as i said, it was getting irritating.” you subtly try to pull your hand back, but miguel’s grip is strong and strangely persistent.

“you lost it.” miguel remarks.

you scoff. “no i didn’t lose it.”

then miguel clocks on. “you broke it.”

“alright well — i didn’t break it.” as if that would change much. miguel met your gaze with a slight raise to his brow, as you sigh. “i didn’t mean for him to get to it. i just got too…close. and then he was grabbing my wrist. broken wrist watch, bruised skin, so on.” you mutter. “but it’s handled.”

“handled?” he still hasn’t let your wrist go.

“yeah, it’s getting fixed. and it’ll be as good as new soon.” you remark standing a little straighter.

miguel’s gaze hasn’t shifted from your eyes, his focus a little too intense. “why were you so close?”

“sorry?”

“the anomaly. why’d you need to be that close?” miguel elaborates.

“oh, well…uh…we needed a distraction.” you mutter out, not meeting his gaze. “so, that the other spiders could get all this guys gadgets and stuff. so he’d be weaponless.”

“and?” miguel pushes.

“and…i seemed to be voted the best candidate.”

“to do what, exactly?” everything about miguel hasn’t wavered.

you slightly nibble on your lower lip, actually a fraction embarrassed by this. “just to, you know…flirt…a little bit.” you instantly wince as miguel’s grip on your wrist tightened.

“i’m sorry?” he remarks, coldly.

“as a distraction. it surprising worked…for a bit. before he clocked on when I leant away and — ”

“leant away?” for the first time you can actually catch a proper emotion in miguel’s tone. “how close were you, y/n?”

your tongue brushes along your teeth. “like…” you demonstrate by lifting your hand in front of your face, and slowly closing the distance.

as miguel watches just how close you had gotten, his jaw clenches. “so, you’re telling me that in order for you to catch this anomaly you brought him this close…” miguel provides his own demonstration, pulling you in by your wrist as you slightly stumble into him, your faces inches apart, making your breathing hitch. “is that right?”

you slowly nod. “we catch dangerous anomalies, not flirt with them.” he says.

“it was only so that we could catch him.” you say a little too quietly as your breath hits miguel’s face. “right.” he mutters, his tongue dragging along the roof of his mouth, clearly agitated.

“and what was your plan after the flirting? i mean if you got this close, i’m sure you would have had a plan.” miguel’s tone is dripping with mocking as he tries not to snarl out the words.

you assume that he’s pissed because it undermines what the spider society is made for. when in reality, miguel just doesn’t want a man to be close to you. “you aren’t stupid, y/n. usually this kinda distance…means something.”

you’ve noticed the change in your breathing, as you stare at miguel. if you leant the smallest fraction forward your lips would be touching his. “so, is that what you planned? to kiss him?”

you can’t help but feel flushed at his words, your embarrassment clear. “of course not.”

“you said you leant away.” he begins to lean forward, your lips parting a fraction as your mouth salivates. “is that right?”

you quickly nod. “he’s an anomaly. i wouldn’t have just…kissed him.”

“mhm.” but miguel isn’t stopping, his lips now slightly parted in front of yours. “just because he was an anomaly?”

your silence makes miguel’s grip shift to your back, forcing you to arch into him, as a small misstep of breath leaves your lips. you’re now extremely close. “no.” he answers for you. miguel doesn’t know how he’s gotten you this close, but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to step back.

“you wouldn’t have kissed him because you don’t like him.” he speaks slowly, almost telling you that that’s how your answer should be. “you don’t like anyone right?” his claw has shifted from your wrist to a small strand of your hair. he’s now too far gone.

“what?” your eyes are fluttering as you stare at miguel, still inches away.

“i'll admit...you're peeking my interest....and that's not good…” he mutters out, half speaking to you half getting it off his chest.

you’re in shock, miguel’s lips now faintly brushing yours, mouth open. “not good at all…”

but before he can finally close the distance a loud bang resonates around the room, from what sounds to be the opening of a door. you immediately manage to shove miguel away, fixing yourself. you tried your best not to look flustered as peter emerges. “hey, miguel — oh, hey, y/n.” peter smiles, oblivious to your heaving chest and miguel’s deathly glare.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[iwaasfairy]

congratulations on your 15k milestone fairy!!!! i’m such a fan of every single one of ur fics, I’ve been here ever since u started publishing mirror and indelible and it’s been such an amazing ride!!! ur the best fairy, hope u reach 150k now ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

for the event maybe could u make megumi + stepcest? make it as dark as u wish haha <3~

:<<< I have a very sad kitty image that I wanna put in here but I can’t buT iMMMM Big emOtional yOUre so swEEETTTT

tw (step)cest, jealousy, manipulation

Megumi knows he has you wrapped around his finger. It’s not particularly hard to see in the first place, watching you ‘hmm’ and gawk each time you do as he asks. He doesn’t think that you’re stupid, but you are naive, and just like the lot of them - you didn’t get enough attention from daddy. Ever since Tsumiki moved out, you’ve become even more clingy, sticky and pushy with your affection.

“You know that’s not going to stop me, right?” He asks, and watches how your big eyes flutter up at him like you’re trying to take a shutter the sight and print it into your brain. It takes a few seconds for your pout to appear, and heat to start prickling on the tip of your nose and ears.

“‘M not trying to stop you,” the hands you had wrapped around your tits to protect your modesty drop, as you glance down and step out of your panties too. “It’s cold in here, niichan~”

Megumi clicks his tongue, before putting the toothbrush back into the glass. He can do that later. “Then get into the bath already, shitty sister. I don’t know why you’re twirling around here in the first place.” He can’t help the snappy tone when it comes to you, truly, he does try. But the meaner he is, the softer you become. And how’s a man supposed to ignore your glittering puppy-dog eyes? He truly can’t.

“Are you getting in too?” you patiently ask, sliding into the hot water with slightly wobbly legs, like you’re a baby fawn taking its first steps. Megumi never really felt called to be a protector… but you are something else entirely.

His answer comes before the thought. “Of course I am. Move over.” You do, and he strips down and gets in like he says - but instead of any of this calming his hard-on, he’s only getting harder when your skin slides up against his and you sway the water when you get comfortable against his chest, dropping your head back onto his shoulder. “Gotta clean you up. Move your arms.” And his hands follow, kneading the soft skin of your tits with slightly rough touches.

“Nii nii?” He responds with only a hum, and runs his hands down your body a few times to slide your legs apart so he can fit a hand in between and trail his fingers over your pussy, putting more pressure on your covered clit until you start to melt against him a little. After a few soft gasps, you turn your face to hide against his throat. “Did you use to take baths with Tsumiki neechan too?” Your voice is too soft to make out any true undertone, but he still feels a slight smile tug at his mouth corners.

“Hah?” Of course he didn’t. While he appreciates both your older sister, he’s pretty sure she would have killed him if he had tried. She might still kill him if she finds out what dirty thoughts he’s put into your head now, too. Only you could be doe-eyed and obedient enough to let your big brother trick you into playing with your tits and pussy after hours. He pinches your clit between thumb and pointer until you squeak, and it sends you slipping down and out of his touch with a frown.

“‘Gumi niichan~ That hurts!” Your bottom lip wobbles as you stare at him, and more heat starts collecting on your cheeks until you look all flushed and drowsy and a little bit too distracted.

“That’s what you get for asking stupid questions.” He keeps your eyes for a second, before you finally look away in embarrassment and run a hand over your eyes. But when you try to get up, he pulls you back down into him and sloshing the water around more. “Hey, what- are you jealous?”

“No, ‘m not jealous!” You’re convincing exactly no one. And his grip on your wrist stays even though you try to wrong loose, before you eventually give up and you blink away tears. “God, let go, niichan. I don’t like you.” He takes hold of your head and pulls you closer until you’re nose to nose and he’s unable to keep the slight smile from showing up on his face.

“Gimme one kiss, c’mon.” You give him the saddest, most pitiful peck - before he leans in more and squeezes your face. “A proper kiss.” Those long lashes almost brush his when you look up at him and suck your bottom lip. But be it wanting to be done quicker, or actual want, you go back in and let him capture your mouth with his until he can push his tongue between your lips and force them open. Until you’re relaxing against his hold on you and your tits get pressed to his chest - slumped against the naked body of your own big brother.

After a bit of letting you kiss him back, he taps your cheek. “Get onto your knees, we gotta clean me too. You do it so well with that pretty mouth, right?’

[jarofstyles]

harry damn near begging for yn and being needy, mouthing at her neck chest and stomach while she’s trying to read plsss

PLEASE I LOVE THIS SHIT!

Patreon.

-----

Harry was a horny little menace. But god, was he a convincing one.

It had started when he crawled into her cozy little nest in their bed, cooing about how pretty she looked. In her glasses and her hair thrown up in a bun, along with a few pimple patches, she was sure she wasn't at her prime but it always did give her butterflies when he complimented her in her most relaxed, vulnerable state.

When he asked what she was read, she explained the general synopsis of what had happened so far- a royal romance, enemies to lovers-, and he had snuggled closer. Freshly showered, he was shirtless in just in a pair of grey sweats, skin and hair still slightly damp as he rested his head on her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the pages. But his intentions weren't pure.

"Oh? This is one of those dirty books, isn't it?" He cooed. Of course, as fate would have it, he had turned up during one of the smut scenes in the book. He knew she read filth, had an entire collection of smut ridden books, but this time in particular he felt rather smug about catching her.

"They're all dirty books." She drawled, turning the book so he could see better. He had a one track mind though, and turned his face to bury in her neck with a deep exhale. If he was being honest, he had been aching all day. Y/N had teased him slightly over text and he knew coming home that she would be in his shirt, looking so soft and familiar, he simply wanted to bury himself in her and never leave. Getting to see her so warm and relaxed, it did things to him.

"I have a better idea." He murmured into her skin, kissing the smoothness of her neck. "Why don't we have our own fun, hm? Been gone all day, wanting to come home... and you're reading' about other people having sex." He grunted, slipping his hand under her shirt, nosing at her like a needy pup.

"Well, yes." Y/N laughed through her nose. "I do tend to do that. I enjoy reading some tasteful sex scenes. Beautifully written ones. Is that so wrong?"

"Never said it was wrong, sweetness. Just said the obvious. M'home now, you don't need to read about it." His hand found her breast as his kisses moved up towards her jaw, sloppy with his movements and smearing the wet kisses over the curve of it. "You can experience anything y'want with me. M'ready to role-play, even. Just let me into that pretty pussy, and I'll make all those dreams come true, off the paper."

Of course Y/N knew she was fighting a losing battle- one she very clearly wanted to lose, based off of the sudden awareness of him in between her thighs and his fingers gently plucking her nipple. He liked to beg for it a little bit, though, so she sighed. "I dunno, H. This scene is really good. Maybe you'll just have to wait." The tone of her voice sounded serious but they both knew the game. This was part of it.

"Please, baby?" He whined. "Just a taste of it? Or... can let me warm myself inside of you." His teeth nibbled under her ear, a sweet spot he knew would cause damage to her resolve, sucking on the skin. Y/N felt it between her thighs. That familiar pulsing, her clit beginning to swell, her hole beginning to leak. Harry had quite the effect on her every single time, but hearing him beg always did it to her.

"Please, jus' let me make us feel good. Know you love t'be nice and full, can have it stuffed in you in just a few minutes... get you to feel it in your tummy, baby." He pleaded. "Cmon. Can make it so good for you. Missed feeling you wrapped around me all day, didn't get enough of you this morning." A horny thing he really was. "Can't help that you feel so good that I need you all the time, but m'dying for it. Been thinking about it all day long, just let me slide in." He continued with the begging, slipping his hand back down to the band of her panties.

When Y/N didn't tell him off, he slipped his digits between her thighs and let out a strangled moan. "Fuck me, baby. You're dripping." He whimpered. "Please, let me have it. Let me feel you around my cock, babylove. It aches, you're the only way to fix it." He was getting desperate, rubbing against her thigh as his fingers slid up and down her wet slit. "M'begging you, my love. Let me in."

"Okay, baby. Okay." Y/N laughed at his desperation. "You can slip inside, but you can't move until I finish this chapter." Harry didn't need further instruction, slipping his pants off and tugging her panties to the side with impatience. It took him but a few seconds to do it, spreading her legs open as he turned her on her side so he was spooning her from behind and letting himself in. Slowly pressing the ruddy, leaking tip of his cock through the soaked folds of her puffy cunt and finding her hole, notching against it before pressing inside.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." His whimper was vibrated against her ear, making her clench slightly around him. He was truly desperate for it, letting her stretch as he sunk in inch by inch and rested his head against her cheek, hand going back up her shirt. "I'll be good. Promise."

[buckets-and-trees]

Eva! You wicked little thing!

But this just feels like a sweet, stoic, protector bodyguard Steve, doesn't it? You've fallen for him, hard - how could you not? And you've maybe only just within the last few days stopped dancing around each other and pretending you don't have feelings for each other. You've kissed, you've slept together, but there's still just a little bit of that brand-new-ness of the relationship where you're a tiny bit hesitant, and Steve - aside from trying to be professional - has that bit of shyness, but that sexual tension is thick. His driving you is the first time you've been alone in a couple of days for more than a few minutes during the day.

He reaches over to adjust the dial on the radio, and you just can't help yourself.

You nudge your knees up, and he growls your name in warning,

"Steve," your tone is thick with want, a hint of whine on the edge of it.

And when you see his eyes dart down to your bare knees, you tempt him further by rucking up your skirt.

"We shouldn't..." he tries to convince himself.

You part your thighs. "But you said you would always take care of me. I want you to take care of me now, Steve."

And once his fingers are on your smooth, pliant skin, even though part of his brain is trying to be sensible, his body takes over, and those fingers quickly skim down your thighs and eagerly slip right under the gusset of your panties, and he can't help but hum in approval. "So wet for me, sweet thing?"

"Yes, daddy."

He arches a brow. "Daddy?"

It slipped out before you could think.

"I-"

"I like it," he assures you. "Be sure to call me daddy when I have you begging here soon."

You gasp at this new element he's put on the table, but also because he's slipped two fingers deep into your cunt at once.

And he's going to only slowly shift them in and out, and curl them up against that spongy spot that makes you lose your mind, and edge you for the next few miles of the highway.

He really will edge you until you're begging with tears spilling down your cheeks before pulling over and fucking you over the hood of the car down a secluded side road.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for tabetharasa behind the cut; alpha Jazz, a dark alley, and a very pretty omega. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

Jazz has no idea why Red Hood thinks he smells anything but delicious, but there’s a very reckless and dubiously-ethical part of her that would be willing to prove it to him. Not that she would, obviously, because that would be, again, incredibly unethical and highly inappropriate and also a total dick move. 

She just could, that’s all. Just if it came up or whatever. 

“Well, it’s not,” she says, mildly put out by whatever’s going on here, and Red Hood growls. His scent blockers continue to be useless. Just–absolutely useless, yes. 

Ancients, he smells so good. What is she even supposed to do about how good this omega smells? 

Maybe offer to walk him home, or at least offer him her jacket so he has enough alpha scent on him that no one bothers him on his way back to his den. Although he’s a crime lord–or a vigilante? one or the other, whatever–who’s built like a truck, so that probably isn’t really a concern, she supposes. 

Then again, some people seriously do have no sense of decorum. 

Or survival instincts. 

“Shut the fuck up!” Red Hood snaps. Jazz frowns. That seems like a disproportionate amount of anger in his tone. Maybe he's sensitive about his pheromones. Well, if people have been telling him he smells like death . . . 

Though “death” doesn't necessarily smell bad, in Jazz's opinion. 

Admittedly, that's a liminal's opinion and besides the point anyway. But still. 

“Alright,” she says. “But can you get to your den safely? Or . . . somewhere you can den down, anyway, I don't know. I assume you have a headquarters or a safehouse or two, something like that. Or at least can afford a heat hotel or know a decent clinic.” 

Red Hood hisses at her. It crackles through his modulator, but the sound of it still makes her jeans a little . . . uncomfortable, she'll just say. Sue her, she likes omegas with a bite to them. Johnny 13 definitely didn't win her over by being the sweet and polite type; he won her over by being a blunt asshole in a leather jacket who'd convinced her that he was a sincere and straight-up person. 

She wonders how “sincere” the average Gotham crime boss really is, but it’s a little difficult to concentrate on that question with the scent of old books and burning cedar filling up her nose. And also that note of lilac. That note of lilac is a problem. 

A serious problem. 

“I realize heat drop is probably imminent and you must be uncomfortable, but it’s a valid concern on my part, given your condition,” she says, which normally she’d make sound politely disapproving but really can’t make sound any kind of disapproving right now. Again: the lilac. “So can you?” 

“Fuck makes you think I'd let you anywhere near my den?” Red Hood snarls. Jazz blinks; tilts her head. 

“Nothing,” she says. “What makes you think I was asking to go anywhere near it?” 

Red Hood–stalls, briefly. Jazz tries to be polite about how incredibly obvious a tell that statement was. 

Flattering, but incredibly obvious. 

“I mean, I'd be happy to escort you if you’d like,” she says. “Or lend you my scent, if you need it. But I'm not trying to presume anything.” 

“Fuck off,” Red Hood snarls. “Nobody escorts an omega like me.” 

“Do you think maybe you have some self-esteem issues?” Jazz asks. Heat is almost definitely making him a bit more volatile and emotional than normal, considering the kinds of things he’s been saying to her, but it still seems like a valid question. Being on their cycle doesn’t make people different people; just makes it a bit harder for them to censor and control themselves. 

Or a lot harder, sometimes. 

Judging by how strong Red Hood’s pheromones smell right now . . . 

Well, he might be having a harder time than he’s used to having, so far as “controlling himself” goes. 

Jazz certainly is, all inappropriate knotheaded puns aside. 

Do Poison Ivy’s pollens make cycles hit harder, actually? Or does the suddenness of the effect disorient or throw people off, maybe? 

Well, that’s a worrying thought, since Red Hood seems to be out here alone. 

“‘Self-esteem issues’?” Red Hood repeats incredulously, his pheromones briefly sparking with bewilderment. Jazz decides not to press it, since he might be feeling a little vulnerable right now. 

“Yes,” she says. “Is there someone you can call, if you don’t want an escort or to borrow my scent? I could wait with you until they show. No offense, just Park Row’s not a very nice neighborhood.” 

Red Hood laughs. 

“No fucking shit!” he says, spreading his arms. “It’s Crime Alley!” 

“I know, sorry, I just keep accidentally calling it ‘Park Row’ in my head. Still new in town,” Jazz apologizes. She assumes a crime lord would prefer his territory be correctly referred to, anyway. Seems like a thing. She knows standard humans don’t actually have haunts–even most liminal ones don’t, including her–but sometimes she does . . . well, not forget, exactly, but just . . . expect them to anyway, she supposes? 

She spent way too long in Amity, yes. 

Even without Crime Alley being Red Hood’s actual haunt, though, it’s still disrespectful to call it the wrong name. It’s still his territory either way, and she imagines someone on their cycle especially wouldn’t appreciate the mistake. 

“What is your damage?” Red Hood snarls, his voice modulator crackling threateningly as he visibly bristles, and Jazz catches notes of that electric and unexpected edge in his pheromones again. Still vaguely familiar, but still not quite what it seems like it should be. Just . . . 

Really, if she didn’t know better . . . well, she’d think he was liminal. But that seems like a very unlikely coincidence for her first week in Gotham, so . . . 

Then again, her life is her life. 

It’s not really the time to be asking Red Hood about his levels of ecto exposure, though, and she’s pretty sure they’ve both got more important priorities right now. 

“We don’t really have time to unpack all that, to be honest. You really do need to get home,” she says. “Or at least call someone to pick you up. If you go into heat drop alone in Crime Alley, I can’t imagine it’s going to end well.” 

Red Hood hisses. That might’ve sounded like a threat, Jazz realizes belatedly. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, apologetic again. “But it’s not safe, is it?” 

“If anyone I don’t want near my ass tries to touch me, I’ll put a bullet up theirs,” Red Hood growls, low and crackling. 

“That seems like a lot of trouble when you’re on your cycle, though,” Jazz says. He’d have a body to deal with, and maybe someone would call the cops–well, she supposes it is Crime Alley, so maybe not . . .? But it’d be self-defense anyway, and if he is a crime lord, maybe he has people for that. 

Hm. 

She really needs to get familiar with this area as soon as possible, yeah. And just Gotham in general, really. Every city has its own idiosyncrasies, but Gotham is its idiosyncrasies. 

Well, so is Amity Park, of course. 

“I think you belong in Arkham, lady,” Red Hood says. Jazz feels like a Gothamite should be more understanding of someone taking supervillain attack side effects and hostile heated-up crime lords in stride, but apparently not. 

“Technically, you’re not wrong,” she says with a wry smile. She’d offer him a handshake, but that’s not really appropriate for an alpha to offer to an omega in heat. Especially not an unmated alpha, which Jazz very definitely is. “I start Monday. Jazz Fenton, psychiatric intern. At your service.”

Red Hood manages to very clearly stare at her without actually taking off the helmet. It's actually an impressive amount of expressiveness to get across, under the circumstances. 

Or there could be a touch of liminal empathy happening, admittedly. That's possible too. Especially with another liminal involved. 

Jazz briefly considers what knotting a liminal omega might actually be like if an empathy loop got established somewhere in the process, which is a lie, because what she’s actually imagining is picking up this liminal omega and showing him exactly how delicious she thinks he smells. 

Definitely inappropriate. 

“They will literally eat you alive,” Red Hood says. 

“I mean, there’s a risk of it,” Jazz allows, because nothing is a perfect guarantee. It’s just not a very large risk. Comparatively, she means. 

“You applied to Arkham on purpose, lady?” Red Hood says disbelievingly. 

“Oh, no,” Jazz says, shaking her head. “They made me an offer. Somebody read my thesis and liked it, apparently.” 

Well . . . “thought we should interview you for either a position or to have your file established for whenever the convictions start rolling in”, whichever. The interviewing psychiatrists had a range of reactions during her interview, she supposes is the best way to put it. 

Jazz really doesn’t think it’s fair to classify her parents as actual supervillains, but an increasingly long list of professionals has, admittedly, not agreed with that assessment. 

She can’t imagine what they would’ve thought if she’d told them about Danny, considering. 

Well, it’s not her problem if someone else is going to be close-minded about things like that. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be pushy here, but are you sure you don’t want to call anyone? Or want my scent. Or . . . literally anything,” she says, gesturing a little awkwardly with her shopping bags. “I do get told my pheromones are pretty discouraging to unwanted attention, if that helps?” 

“Sure they are,” Red Hood snorts. Jazz tries not to look disapproving, given his compromised state. That kind of thing can bother omegas in heat, she knows. 

“That’s what people tell me,” is all she says. Obviously it’s not just the default parts of her scent that make it a strong deterrent, but as for the force of the emotions and claim she can put into it . . . 

Well. She just hears it’s “discouraging” to other alphas pretty regularly, that’s all. And also some betas, depending on their sexuality. And, um . . . well, a little closer to “catnip”, for omegas, but . . . 

“I’ll believe it when I smell it, knothead,” Red Hood snorts again. “Prove it.” 

Jazz isn’t sure that’s a good idea, considering–again–his compromised state, but, well . . . he’s clearly a strong omega himself, and maybe she’s a little miffed by him just assuming she’s lying about something like that, that’s all. She knows plenty of alphas do lie about their pheromones or even lay on fake ones, but . . . well, it’s hard not to wonder if he just thinks she’s a lesser alpha because she’s female, or because of how she’s dressed or looks or speaks, or just because. 

Her inner alpha doesn’t love the experience of one of the most gorgeous-smelling omegas she’s ever scented sneering at her worth as an alpha without even giving her a shot to prove it, either way. 

“Are you sure?” she asks.

[jasonsmirrorball]

SOUP FOR THE SOUL JASON TODD

↳ taking care of jason while he's sick

“Hey, sit up for me.”

Jason winces as he pushes himself up from the bed, looking so pitiful it tugs at your heart. You set the bowl of soup on the table nearby, pressing a warmed hand to the fevered skin of his cheek.

“Baby,” you murmur, sympathetically. He frowns through bleary eyes, and you skim your thumb over his jaw. 

“Y’don’t have to fuss over me,” he rasps out, and you think maybe it would sound more convincing if he didn’t sound like his voice box had been dragged over gravel, scratchy and hoarse. 

“Course I do,” you say, reaching for the bowl once more and handing him the spoon. “Can you manage to keep anything down? I called your dad and he passed on a recipe. It’s not butler-made, but I hope it’s not awful.”

He manages a weak grin at the joke, accepting the spoon. His fingers brush against yours, tracing a minute path up the inside of your palm before curling around the metal. Soft steam curls up from the bowl, and you hold it closer for his convenience. 

“My sweet thing,” he rumbles, taking a sip. You watch carefully, feeling your shoulders relax when he sighs. “‘S great, baby.”

“Yeah?” you prompt, warming all over when he nods tiredly. “Okay, I’m glad. Can you take a bit more for me?”

He keeps a hand on your thigh as he finishes the rest of his soup, and you talk to him in low tones as he does. The evening sun begins to bleed through the shutters, crimson and gold pooling in the bedsheets. Your lover remains hot to the touch, but you think the food does him some good, a little colour returning to his face as he eats. 

The dryer beeps as he finishes the last of it, and you take the spoon from his fingers. They clasp around your waist when you go to stand, and you wobble slightly, looking back at him. His lips curve down into a frown, the barest makings of a pout beginning to form on his mouth.

“Don’t go,” he murmurs and you sigh. He’s sweet like this, you think, needy and reaching out for you.

“I’m just going to put this away,” you assure him. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“Promise?” he asks, and you bite back a laugh, drawing an X over your heart in affirmation. 

“Swear.”

You’re back sooner than Jason expects, and clutching a pair of flannel pyjamas and a blanket in your hands. He squints as you enter, and you tilt your head in silent instruction.

He’s still burning as you help him take his clothes off, skin heated and covered in gooseflesh, replacing the tattered shirt and shorts with the most loved set in your wardrobe. He’d laughed the first time you presented them to him, but had worn them so much the flannel had felted over. They’re warm in your hands now as you help him into them, depositing him on the nearby chair and wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. 

“I love you,” he mumbles into the fleece, as you’re stripping the sheets. You look over your shoulder, finding him half asleep in the chair. 

“Love you, baby,” you whisper back, tugging on a fresh set. “C’mere.”

The dirty linen pools on the floor and Jason tugs you into bed with him, curling himself around you and leaving little chance for escape. Jason falls asleep almost immediately, and you hope he feels the trace of your fingers in his hair, in his dreams.

[jimblejamblewritings]

the fake date plot | part 6.

Summary: Gryffindors, seventh years, classmates, unrequited love. Just a few things Y/N and James Potter had in common. When a brilliantly dumb plan is hatched the two end up getting something a little different than what they wanted.

Warnings for the Series: oh, this is a slowburn now. Or at least that's the plan.

Pairing: James Potter x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: yeah I know I've been gone for a year... I have no words, my bad

Previous Part | (Series Chapter List)

James came down with the rest of the marauders to find you had already fixed a big plate of breakfast for him. He gave you a peck on the cheek as he took off his quidditch jumper before sitting down. 

“Thanks, bug.”  

“Why do you call me that?” you asked, taking a bite of your English muffin. 

“Do you not like it? I can call you something else.” 

“No, I like it. I was just wondering why.” 

James shrugged. “Never thought about it… You’re cute and little, some bugs are cute and little. Yep, makes sense.” 

“I’m not little.” 

“You’re littler than me. It counts.” 

“You’re freakishly tall.” 

“Remus is freakishly tall.” 

“So are you.” You popped a fried potato chunk in your mouth. 

“Just accept it, bug.” 

You went back to your breakfast, deciding his answer and little argument was satisfactory enough for you. James nudged you with his shoulder, beginning a mini battle between the two of you until he finally conceded. It was still a learning process for the two of you, trying to figure out how to play up your fake dating. Your friends were definitely suspicious and while Lily seemed to move a bit closer, Xeno didn’t even glance your way. 

You were worried that maybe you and James were switching places in regards to the objects of your affection. You felt something squeeze your thigh ever so slightly and looked over to see James was seemingly in conversation with Peter. He must’ve caught you staring too long at the Ravenclaw table and a certain someone. 

Shaking your head, you went back to eating. That’s right. You were with James and you two needed to be sickeningly in love. Besides, Lily was coming around so maybe Xeno was just distracted right now. You opened up your journal to jot down a few notes. A looming presence hung over your right shoulder. 

“Yes, Jamie?” you asked without looking up. 

“I’m just looking at your calendar.” He pointed to a blank Wednesday. “Quill in a study date, right when classes end.” 

“Study? James Potter, when have you ever studied anything that wasn’t Charms and Defense?” 

“Well, do you really need to study wand lore or broom craft? And does memorizing a whole script count as studying?” 

“It does when you’re in a drama club. And if I can’t become an actress then I need to feed myself so I’m learning to make quidditch equipment. You idiots break at least two brooms every week each, not to mention the other stuff. I’ll never have to worry about money.” 

“You’re learning about quidditch?” 

You finally looked up, recognizing the shift in James’ tone from when you two were acting for your friends versus being genuine. Giving your fake boyfriend a smile, you stole some food off his plate. 

“It’s not because you like it. It’s because you, especially, are rich and will buy my brooms and convince all your teammates to buy my brooms.” 

He laughed so loud it made students at the other houses’ tables, including Xeno, look over. James squished your cheeks and gave you a peck. 

“I should have known you were only with me for my money. Well, I hate to inform you, love, I’ve just squandered the family fortune on flying carpets.” 

You rolled your eyes. “How do you have a cute comeback for everything?” 

“You think it’s cute?” 

You stood up from the table. “You are the cutest, Jamie. The most adorable scrumdiddlyumptious squishy-wishy super-duper boyfriend in the whole world.” 

“I sense I’m being teased.” 

“I would never tease you, Jamie bo-baimey taimey waimey rai—” 

“Ha ha, very funny. Now you deserve the punishment jumper.” 

“Punishment jumper? What am I, five years old?” Your words were muffled by a red jumper covering your face before your head popped out the other side. You looked down. “You just wanted me to wear your jumper.” 

James blushed and you wanted to laugh. Natural blush wasn’t easy with fake dating but the two of you figured out a relatively uncomfortable trick if the two of you weren’t on the same page. You were allowed to picture Xeno whenever you wanted and James was allowed to picture Lily. He was totally imagining her in his jumper— it probably helped that you and Lily were the same height and body type so the jumper fit exactly like it would on her. 

Your fake boyfriend scratched the back of his head. “Some of the team was talking about how they like seeing their partner in their jumpers and I wanted to know what that was like.” 

“And?” 

“Don’t know yet, it just looks like I dropped it on you.” 

“That’s cause you did drop it on me. Wait, let me fix it.” 

You pulled out the collar and untucked your shirt so the tails were sticking out. The sweater almost covered your skirt entirely since it was already oversized on James that you weren’t sure if you’d get a violation or not but you didn’t try to adjust it. You gave a little twirl. 

“Tada.” 

“You look great.”    

Leaning over James, who covered your skirt with his hands to make sure nothing showed, you collected your stuff. “I’ll see you later, okay? Marls, are you coming with me to Herbology or still eating?” 

Marlene tried to recover from getting caught staring, mouth open, at you and James. She shook her head no and you made your way out of the Great Hall to head to Herbology. James left only five minutes after you in order to give your friends space to gossip in peace. 

The two of you were counting on Sirius and Mary to get louder by the minute until it garnered everyone’s attention. You were sure it worked when Alice came into the greenhouse practically squealing at you. You and James were the hottest topic in school. All you could do was roll your eyes and keep taking notes as Alice started planning your entire future together. You turned to look at your friend. James wouldn’t hate you for telling one person. You both had planned to tell your closest friends when the time was right and you couldn’t take keeping a secret anymore. 

“Hey, Alice. Me and Jam—” 

The door to the greenhouse swung open but it was Professor Sprout that came in. It was James standing in the threshold. 

“Your birthday is this weekend,” he said, pointing an accusatory finger. 

“Yes, James.” 

“Bug, you didn’t say what you wanted for your birthday.” 

“I’m okay.” 

“What?” His eyebrows crinkled together. “You don’t want anything?” 

“It’s not that big a deal.” 

“Birthdays are a completely big deal.” 

“Well… I just don’t want anybody spending too much on me this year. My parents and I are saving up for university… if there is a university.” 

It was an unspoken thing that no student might make it to university when the war was ramping up. If Voldemort and the Death Eaters got bigger, a draft was likely to happen. And unlike muggles, men and women were drafted in the wizarding world since all the fighting was done with magic and didn’t require any strength outside of mental. James shook his head. 

“That’s an even better reason to give you something. It won’t be large, I promise.” 

“Small things can still be very expensive.” 

“Honestly, I’ve never looked at a price tag in my life.” 

You sighed. “You and Sirius live totally different lives from the rest of us, I wish I had rich parents… Okay, I concede. If it isn’t big then it can be whatever you want.” 

“Good. I have to go now before Slughorn loses his mind that I’m not there or worse pairs me up with Snape as a punishment.”   

(part 7...)

THIS TAGLIST:

@starsval @helloitsmeeeeeee @callsigndiamond @isabela30 @rachelccollier @ghostkingblake @b3t0xic @tendous-pretty-hair @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @superduckmilkshake @sendnuwudes @prongsprincessworld @slightlynotslightlyobsessing @wildernessflora @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @mommymilkerfanclub @amandachrystinallc @lupinsbookshelf @harrysgoldenwatermelon @loving-and-dreaming @that-simp-sin @bubybubsters @peachesgaeass @jellyfishlioncrab @cenkisabibl

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl @peaches-n-sunscreen @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr @thebitchinleo @23victoria @scarlets-widow @pagetpagetpagetpaget @lovexnatasha @awesomebooklover17 @1234-angelika @imatrisk @blackreaderatrisk @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a @siriuslysirius1107​ @i-have-no-life-charlie

[headkiss]

little steve request/idea… just sitting and playing with his big hands .. i can’t stop thinking abt them since watching this 😩😩

ah yes steve’s hands <3 ty for your request! | 0.6k fluff and hands!!!

Steve has pretty hands.

Often, your gaze will drift to them without meaning to. When he unscrews a tight lid, when he reaches for the remote, when he puts a hand on your thigh.

He doesn’t even have to try.

You’ve made a habit of using his hands as some sort of stress ball. You’ll pull one into your lap and fiddle with his fingers or run your fingertips over the skin of his knuckles. Even better, on the days he wears a ring or two, you twist them around.

Steve doesn’t mind one bit. At least one of his hands is usually on you in some way, and the added contact only makes him smile with a silly little flutter in his chest.

Now, you sit beside each other in a booth at the diner despite having nobody else with you. Steve likes to be close to you and you like to be even closer.

“Milkshake with two straws?” He asks you, looking over the menu.

“Such a cliché, Harrington.”

“I prefer romantic,” he nudges your shoulder with his. “Come on. I’ll even let you pick the flavor.”

You’re easily convinced.

You and Steve look over the menu together, heads bent and almost leaning against each other. You’re sharing one menu when there’s a second one laying on the table.

Soon enough, you order. Steve lets you pick the milkshake as promised and gives you time to order first. He’s a proper gentleman very often, but on dates most of all.

You’ve been with him for long enough, and still, he treats every date like the first (minus the nerves).

“Did I tell you I saw spider guy at work again?”

Spider guy is a man who comes into the library and only ever checks out books about spiders. He’s become a staple in your work weeks.

“No! How many books this time?”

“Three!” You laugh and Steve can’t help but laugh with you. “And two of them he’s already checked out multiple times. How interesting can spiders be?”

“Hey, maybe he’s actually Spider-man and he’s trying to study his abilities.” He holds his hand by his mouth, like he’s holding a microphone, putting on a new reporter voice for the next bit. “This just in: there’s a superhero in Hawkins!”

Before you knew him, you never thought Steve would be so funny. He’s the type that can say something completely normal and turn it into a joke just by switching the tone of his voice.

He makes you laugh with ease, an unguarded sound.

Steve’s still pretending to be a reporter when your food is brought out. You tug his fake microphone-holding hand down and into your lap to make him stop. You won’t be able to eat if you’re giggling the whole time.

You both thank your waitress, and you start to fiddle with Steve’s fingers in that habit of yours. His hands are big, and the one in your lap is lax, letting you fidget with it like he can’t even feel it.

Today, he’s wearing a plain band around his thumb. You twirl it around his finger, tugging it off and sliding it back on.

You pick up your fries with the hand furthest from him, the other keeping his own hand trapped in your lap. You love his hands and the way they feel in yours, the way the skin goes from soft to calloused.

“What’s that!?” Steve gasps, looking out the window.

You turn your head to look and see absolutely nothing exciting. You turn to Steve with a deadpan look on your face, though you’re fighting a smile.

“Sorry, thought I saw Spider-man out there!”

“Steeeve.”

You squeeze his hand in yours despite your fake annoyance. He enjoys it very much.

While eating a burger one-handed isn’t the easiest thing in the world, Steve manages. He much prefers keeping his hand in your lap, anyway.

[sapphicseasapphire]

ok, so, this has been bugging me for a bit today, but, what was Sky's reaction to when he first met Warriors? like there's got to be a strong emotion there given that Fi is also a sword spirit.

so yeah, I'm just wondering what you have planed for that.

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.

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(also great artwork it's absolutely stunning and looks really yummy)

((dont question it))

SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO RESPOND TO THIS, I HAD TO DRAW IT.

(Lore under the cut. Sorry, I have a lot to say about this haha)

Sky’s reaction when he first meets Warriors? Awe.

They find Wars last- or, well, they find his sword. The others are notably confused because they were looking for the hero. The temple that they were led to is completely empty except for a single sword atop a pedestal. Surely their lead was wrong- this can’t be it. Maybe this is the hero’s blade? And he will return to the temple? Or is this just the wrong spot entirely?

While the others are arguing with each other about what to do next, Sky steps up to the blade. It’s… a lot fancier than the ones that the heroes are accustomed to. Gems are inlaid into the guard, fabric is woven around the grip in a familiar pattern. There are diamonds that run down the blade and a piece of blue fabric is tied around the ring of the pommel. This level of decoration is not usually suited for a sword to be wielded in battle. In fact, the only sword that he’s known to be this beautiful and but also effective is currently strapped at his side. As Sky walks closer, he can see the blade glow unnaturally, and his voice echoes through the temple:

“It’s a Sword Spirit,” he’d say, reaching out to the blade but not touching. Not yet.

There’s a mix of emotions when Sky looks upon the blade. He’s relieved, for he had feared that Sword Spirits had been forgotten entirely. His heart aches at the cold weight of Fi at his side, empty and quiet where she used to be full of life. It’s good, he thinks, to see a new sword shine so bright. He’s a little afraid, he’d admit, since he has unsavory memories of a different Sword Spirit. Phantom hands at his shoulders, tongue at his ear, black blades arcing in the air.

Still, Sky can’t repress the way his heart leaps in excitement, a smile at his lips, even as his hand falters in the air. Another Sword Spirit, here, right in front of him. Another opportunity to make things right, to fix things. Oh, how he misses Fi.

“This is the hero we’re looking for.”

And the others would approach, their curiosity piqued by the reverent tone of Sky’s voice. (Note that Sky had just joined them about two-ish days ago? He was the second to last to meet the Chain, the last being Wars).

No one else has met a Sword Spirit before, not even Wild or Time (who, at this point, everyone thinks is a spirit), so they’re all a bit hesitant to accept Sky’s words at face value. Sky explains that he’s met Sword Spirits before, that the Master Sword herself is a spirit. Puzzle pieces click into place but they still need more convincing. They’ll believe that Sky’s correct: that the sword in the pedestal is indeed a Sword Spirit, but they don’t agree that it’s the hero that they’re looking for.

At least, not until the spirit bursts from his sword in a flash of white light, floating in the air as Fi had done so long ago. The eight heroes stand, eyes wide, before the glowing metallic figure. Sky could cry in at the joy he feels as the spirit utters his first words to them:

“Hello, Masters.”

. . .

• Sky inherently trusts everything that Wars says because he trusted Fi. Fi didn’t lie, she was always helpful, and she told him exactly what he needed to hear every single time, even if he didn’t like it. She was calculating and intelligent and Sky (well… Link) could not have survived on the Surface without her. He trusted her with his life. Sky has no reason to think that Wars would ever lie to him, either. Especially in the early days, when he’s more robotic and less human. And so, he trusts Wars to always be honest.

• This will totally definitely 100% not be a problem guys, I promise. Wars would never lie to Sky about something dangerous. And it totally would never result in Sky getting hurt. And it’s definitely not why Wars looks so upset in the sketches I did yesterday. You can trust me. I promise.

• Sky and Wars talk a lot about Fi. Wars is curious about her, since he’s met her before in his own era and doesn’t know what happened to her. So Sky would explain that she went to sleep after his first adventure, and Wars would stare at him blankly.

“Sword Spirits do not necessitate sleep, Master.”

“I-” Sky would look away, something terribly vulnerable in his eyes. His voice would be sad and quiet as he continued: “I know.”

• I know I’ve talked about this before, but Sky is the most knowledgeable about Wars. He understands. And so his interactions with Wars are a lot easier for the Sword Spirit than with the others. The others don’t like being called “Master.” They don’t like the matter-of-fact way he talks, how he calculates every sentence before speaking it, how he uses percentages and simulations to back up his arguments. (How he always wins arguments). And Sky doesn’t necessarily like these things either, but he’s always patient. Always gentle. He allows Wars to call him “Master” because he understands how much Wars needs it. When Wars goes off on tangents and describes every bit of data he can think of, Sky sits and listens and they talk and it’s just so easy. Sky is probably Wars’ favorite, just for that.

• The REASON that Sky is so supportive of Wars goes back to the one thing that drives him through literally everything in his life: guilt. He said goodbye to Fi much too soon. She was just starting to open up, to feel and express her emotions, when their time ran out. He never got to know the person she’d end up to be, and he’s not making that same mistake again with Warriors.

I think I’ve talked about this before? How when Sword Spirits are young, they talk robotically and don’t express themselves, but as they mature and are around more people, they kind of adopt their traits and become a more well rounded person? Fi, for example was only around for what? A few months? Ghirahim had thousands of years to develop. That’s the difference between “According to your social customs, I should provide you with my personal designation. Fi is the name I was given,” and “You may call me Ghirahim. In truth, I very much prefer to be indulged with my full title: Lord Ghirahim. But I'm not fussy."

Sky wants to see Wars grow in the way that he never got to see Fi. He wants to know Wars. Not just as a spirit, but as a friend.

[ynsvnte]

Everyone adores you (at least I do) — Park Jongseong

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers, slight angst, wc: 868 warnings: swearing, pet names, kissing, arguing, pairing: bff!Jay x fem!reader

Synopsis: Your were always well liked growing up even by Jay. Having a huge crush on you and trying to show signals. until that’s when he had enough.

Sing along at Lispenard St. (Series Masterlist)

Jay smiled hearing your giggles. Oh how downright bad this boy was for you. Little backstory, You and Jay grow up being neighbors and your parents thought about inviting their new neighbors over to welcome them. When you both first met, you both clicked instantly. Having a friend around during the weekends was great. As you and Jay were insuperable, growing up everyone knew how much Jay liked you. Everyone expect, you. You did like Jay at one point but just gave up as one of your friends also liked him too and you thought she deserved him more (she got rejected) Now in university you both are going to the same university. Still insuperable.

“Hey Jay look..” you show Jay your phone, a video of a puppy that you thought was adorable. Jay gets closer and watches the video. Laughing at the cute puppy. “Hmm, very cute..” He said. You turn off your phone and sit up. “So are you doing anything..this weekend..?” You asked Jay, curious what he's been up to. “Nothing really, just might just stay indoors all day maybe..” your mouth widens. “Staying indoors..? Jay you got to be kidding me. You should go out with your friends and find yourself a girlfriend..” your words seemed pathetic to him. Girlfriend? Who is he to find one when he has you..that’s if the feeling is mutual of course. “Yn look I’m not looking for someone right now..” all lies he wants you. “Whatever” you roll your eyes at him. Jay could only hope that one day you could realize his feelings for you..

2 days later..

You and Jay are now in his dorm room. Working on assignments that are due tomorrow. “Some professors should fucking rot in hell.” You muttered, making Jay laugh. “Yeah..but watch that pretty mouth of yours..” he warns. He glances over to you. Noticing you didn’t react to his words. He only signs before going back to work. Trying to ignore the feeling of annoyance.

1 week later

Jay visits you unexpectedly.

“Hey..” he said awkwardly. You wave at him allowing him inside. “So what brings you here?” You asked him. “Nothing just bored sweetheart.” Sweetheart..this made you blush a bit but you ignore the feeling. Jay settles down onto your sofa getting comfortable.

“Hey now you’re the guest..” you say giving him a glare.. “yeah but this is like my second home.” You shake your head in disappointment before sitting down next to Jay. Turning on the tv.

“You know I had one girl ask me if we’re dating..” you spoke up. It wasn’t new for others to think you both were dating. Everyone was convinced you were together. Just by the way you both interact with each other. “Oh..” Jay said.. He wishes it was real..

“It would be weird if we dated..” okay ouch..Jay wished deeply how you see his feelings and his thoughts about you. To him you were the most perfect person in the world. Jay goes silent. Making you worried.

“You alright..?” You asked him.. jay nodded a bit before speaking up.

“Are you sure it would be weird if we dated..” Jay's tone was stern, making you shiver a bit. “Y-yeah..”

“And how would it be weird?” He asked, that question caught you off guard. “Well to be truthfully honest. I don’t know.. I mean you don’t like me-“

“Says who..?” Huh..? What does he mean by that.. “what..?” Okay now you’re very confused. “How do you know I don’t like you..” Well you don’t have any good reason at all you just assume because you thought Jay would never like you. Especially considering a lot of girls like him. “W-well i-i don’t know..” Jay only sighs in frustration.

“Yn..this is all bullshit..Yn I want to say this..I like you. More than a friend..I keep giving you hints hoping you would notice one day. But no you never do. I liked you for years. And yet you want to say it would be weird? Yn we’ve known each other for so long..” what.. his words shocked you. You face him with your eyes wides

“Huh-..” you’re only shocked. Not knowing your crush likes you back. Yeah after all you couldn’t move on. “You like me..?” You asked him. “Yes..” Jay says, looking straight at you. You only looked down at your lap. Before you feel a hand touch your face, grazing your cheek. You move your head slightly before seeing Jay's face close to yours. You and Jay both make eye contact. Not breaking it.

“C-can I..?” Jay asked. You only nodded your head. You feel his lips meet yours. His lips felt so nice. You move your arms and wrap it around his neck. And you feel him move, making you sit on his lap. You feel him wrap his arms around your waist. Pulling you closer. You both kiss for a few more minutes before pulling away. Both gasping for air. Jay pulls you into a hug..

“I love you…” he says softly into your ear.. you sink into his hug and kiss his cheek

“I love you too..” ahh young love.

Author’s note: went overboard with Jay sorry but 800+ without me not losing motivation something is wrong.. 🦧 or it’s bc my drafts is filled and it’s annoying me so much

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[guilty-pleasures21]

Jason Todd submissive? Please I'm obsessed 😭🙏🏼 (I don't speak English, sorry Google translator JAKSKAKSKK)

— 🐏

Ahh! My first request! I tried my best based on what I understood of the assignment and I really hope you like it 😅!

Also, I speak French, a little bit of Spanish, Mandarin (though it's been ages! 🫠) and Punjabi, so don't worry about having to translate these if it's easier for you! Although I'm only comfortable writing in English, so I hope this is still all right!

Also, also, I know most writers on this site write in Y/N format, so you guys can just let me know if you prefer that format or 3rd person and I can change it accordingly.

Interrogation practise

I feel like Jason wouldn't let you try to dominate him, so you'd just have to try to trick him into it 😉.

Part 1 - the interrogation

Part 2 - the revenge

Part 3 - the roleplay

Warnings: bondage, explicit description of sex including blowjob (m receiving) and penetration (p in v).

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

     She gave the knot a final tug, then looked up at him. “Is this okay?” 

     “That’s perfect, baby,” Jason assured her, shifting in position to get himself more comfortable. She stood up and moved to stand in front of him. She’d asked him to help her practise her interrogation techniques - she was always too soft when it came to questioning criminals and she wanted to learn how she could improve on her weaknesses. She’d tried asking some of the others before - Bruce, Cass, Dick - but they were all either too impatient or too violent for her tastes. And even though her boyfriend could be … a little hot-headed at times, he was always gentle when it came to her, helping her use her own unique talents to better improve her crime-fighting style. 

     “Okay, so, how should I start?” X asked him. Jason let his gaze trail over her body, his eyes lingering a little too long on her tanned and tone legs, bare beneath her little shorts. He dragged his gaze back up to hers, trying not to think about how very helpless he was right now, tied up to this chair in front of his pretty little girlfriend, just waiting to torture him. He shook the thought away.

     “So, you want to start gentle,” he coached her patiently. “People are already scared of the big old Bat, right? So you want to convince them that it’s better for them to talk to you instead.” She nodded in understanding.

“Okay, so … What should I be trying to get out of you in this situation? Give me a storyline.” He smirked, amused by how seriously she was taking the situation. She was so cute, his sweet little girlfriend. 

     “Hmm … Maybe you could be trying to find out where the Riddler’s hideout is?” Jason suggested. “I could pretend to be one of his goons.”

     “Okay,” she agreed. She cleared her throat, taking a moment to get into character, then raised her head again, clasping her hands behind her back and strolling over to him. “Look. You and I both know things are going to get a lot more … unpleasant when my boss gets here. So, why don’t we help each other out?” 

     She placed her hands on the back of his chair, bending over so that her lips were just a breath apart from his. “You tell me where the Riddler’s hiding and I’ll make sure the Batman goes easy on you.” 

     Jason’s lips curled at the ends as he appraised her and he raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Oh, sweetheart. You’re going to have to do a lot better than that to convince me.” 

     “Hmm,” X considered, her dark eyes trailing down his face and landing on his lips. “What would you like me to do for you, Mr Todd?” 

     F*ck. This was a bad idea. Why had he agreed to this? Oh, right: because she’d given him that pretty little look of innocence that drove him mad whenever he saw it, her dark and curly eyelashes fluttering up at him, her full and rosy lips twisted down in a pout. But shit, they’d barely started and he was already regretting his decision. He should have made them do it the other way around instead; he should have tied her up to his bed while he ‘demonstrated’ the proper technique to her. She dragged a finger down his chest, her eyes following the path she made along his hard muscles. 

     “What would it take …” she slid her legs on top of his, settling herself in his lap, “... for you to tell me where the Riddler is hiding?” She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned forward, her breath tickling his ear as she murmured into it. 

     “Hmm? 'Sweetheart'?” His head fell back with pleasure as she chuckled at her own words before nipping playfully at his ear.

     “Ah, f*ck!” Jason shifted in position, struggling against his binds so he could free his hands and run them all over her deliciously bare thighs. God, she was hot. X straightened and moved one hand to cup his face, her lips so close to his, but still so painfully far.

     “Why won’t you tell me, Jace?” she whined, pouting at him pleadingly. Then her lips twisted into a grin and she dragged her thumb across his lip before beginning her mouth to his. “You know what I’ll do for you if you do.” 

     He leaned forward, meaning to kiss her, to close the distance between them and lick up the sweet taste of her. But she pulled away again and he growled in response. “X!”

     X giggled and stood up, curling her fingers around his shoulder and moving to stand behind him. 

     “This is an interrogation, Jason,” she reminded him, bending over and sliding her hands down his chest appreciatively. He was so hot, her big and strong boyfriend. “You’ll get what you want when I say you get it.” She nipped at his ear again and he sighed, wriggling his legs to try to free his ankles from their binds. She pressed her lips to his neck, the soft moans escaping from her throat driving him crazy as she made her way down to his shoulder. 

     “Mmm, Jason,” she mumbled, her voice low and seductive in his ear. She straightened, her hands returning to his shoulders as she stood over him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to maintain his self-control - and his control over the situation he’d landed himself in. 

     “Princess,” he called to her, his tone sweet, lazy - like he was the one still in charge. “Why don’t you untie me and we’ll see what we can work out?” She pursed her lips, pretending to think about it as she moved to stand in front of him again. 

     “Hmm, I don’t know,” she admitted, grabbing his shoulders again and bending over him, her dark hair falling forward to frame her sweet face. “I’m having much more fun trying to work things out like this.” 

     Her eyes fell to his chest, to the sharp lines of his muscles pressing against the soft fabric of his shirt as he sat there, hands bound behind his back as he looked up at her. “It’s too bad you still have your clothes on though - we could have had so much more fun if you’d taken them off first.” 

     He sighed and let out another curse as she shot him a wicked smile. Then he watched as she turned around and went over to the kitchen, grabbing a knife before making her way back over to him. His heart started picking up its pace in his chest and he couldn’t decide whether he was terrified or thrilled by the idea of what she was about to do next. “Princess.” 

     She ignored him as she walked back over to him, her steps slow and precise. Then she grabbed the collar of his shirt and traced her knife over the soft fabric before slicing it down the centre. She stood back and licked her lips at the sight of his bare chest, setting her knife aside before climbing back on top of his lap. 

     “Mmm, Mr Todd!” she chuckled, running her hands down his chest and leaning forward to bring her lips to his ear. “Looks like the Riddler’s got his men working on an extensive exercise routine.” She curled her fingers around the waistband of his pants, wriggling back a little to give her hands more room, and he felt his body start to heat up in anticipation. 

     “Does he have a gym? At this secret hideout of his?” She traced her fingers over the outline of his cock, already starting to harden in his sweatpants, and let out another little laugh. “Maybe you could take me there sometime. How about that?” She nibbled on his neck as she slid her hand into his underwear and wrapped her fingers around his cock, sliding them up and down teasingly. 

     “F*ck,” Jason groaned, his head falling forward at the sensation. X pulled back to look at him, brushing her thumb across his bottom lip. 

     “What’s wrong, Mr Todd?” she asked him, delighted to finally have the upper hand over him. “Still not convincing enough for you?” She lowered her lips to his, but continued to dodge his attempts to kiss her, chuckling when he groaned in frustration. Then she leaned forward to pull his lip between hers and sucked on it before letting him go again.

     “Ah, shit!” Jason exclaimed, his breaths getting heavier as he started to become more aroused. He let out a choked gasp as she brushed her thumb over his tip and began circling it gently. “X. Don’t … Stop it, sweetheart.”  

     “You want me to stop?” She shook her head at the thought, lips still curled into that devious smile. “Don’t you remember what I said, Jace?” 

     She brought her face back to his, smirking at him in the way he’d always smirk at her when he was teasing her, pushing her to the very limits as he played with and pleasured her. “I’m in charge tonight.” 

     His head fell back against the seat as she continued twirling her slender fingers around his cock. He should never have agreed to this; he should have known the moment she’d asked him to help her out, that mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes as she'd gazed up at him. Had she planned this all along? Had she wanted to tie him up just so she’d be able to dominate him for a change? Dominate him in the way he’d always dominate her? X frowned, feigning confusion as she looked down at the frustrated crease between his brows. 

     “You’re feeling a little dry, Jace,” she informed him, removing her hand from around his c*ck and pushing herself off of him. He swallowed hard as she lowered herself to her knees and pulled his pants down, licking her lips hungrily at the sight of his cock exposed before her. “Let’s see what we can do about that, hmm?”

     “X, don’t … This isn’t how an interrogation works, sweetheart,” he informed her, trying to keep his tone gentle so she wouldn’t be tempted to challenge him. She glanced up at him quickly, then fixed her gaze back on his cock, her eyes lighting up with delight. 

     “Hmm?” she mumbled, reaching forward to grab hold of his dick. “I’m just trying to use my strengths, Jay. Like you always tell me to do?” She turned her face up to his, grinning at the feeling of his cock throbbing in her hand. Then she leaned forward and dragged her tongue across his tip, licking him up slowly. He bit down on his tongue, trying to stop a groan from falling out at the sensation. He could do this: he’d been in much, much worse situations before and he hadn’t cracked then. There was no way he was going to give her the pleasure - the satisfaction - of knowing that she was the only one capable of breaking the unbreakable Jason Todd. No way in hell was he going to let her have this! But then she wound her tongue around his shaft, closing her mouth around him and letting out a low moan that danced along his skin. F*ck. He pressed his lips together, barely muffling the groan that managed to escape his throat. 

     “X, don’t … don’t …” he panted heavily, struggling against his binds as she continued sucking his cock, her pretty little mouth taking him in so nicely. She pulled her head back slowly, dragging him out of her mouth, then lowered her lips to his balls, her fingers continuing to work on his tip as she suckled on him gently. 

     “Don’t what, Mr Todd? Are you not enjoying this?” She licked one of his balls, curling her tongue around it before pulling it into her mouth to suck on it. 

     He was definitely not enjoying this - not at all! He was the one who was supposed to be dominating her; throwing her around and teasing her until she was begging him for relief, her perfect little breasts bouncing up and down as he brought her to the edge of her pleasure and back down again. He never hurt her, of course - never forced into anything she wasn’t comfortable with. But it was just one of the only times he finally felt in control of something in his life and he was f*cked if she found out how so very aroused he was right now. 

     She chuckled, knowing exactly how much he was enjoying it - and exactly how much he was hating the fact. She’d wanted to try it, just once, but she knew her boyfriend would never have agreed to something like this, proud as he could be. So, she’d devised this clever plan, playing into his ego to make him think that she was just so innocent and so desperate for his help. She pulled his dick back into her mouth, moaning against his tip when it hit the back of her throat before letting him go again. Then she stood up. 

     “Okay. You’ve had your fun,” Jason relented, the muscles in his shoulders flexing deliciously as he pulled against his binds again. “Now untie me, X.” She rearranged her features into that innocent expression that drove him crazy every time she used it on him. 

     “But you still haven’t told me where the Riddler’s hideout is,” she pointed out, eyes wide as she waited for his response. He huffed in irritation, his chest heaving up and down as he glared at her. He looked so hot like this, jaw clenched in anger, strands of his dark hair falling into his mossy eyes. There was no way she was going to let him go so easily - not until she was completely done having her fun! He kept his mouth shut and she shrugged. “If that’s how you want to play.” 

     X started taking her clothes off, taking her sweet time removing each piece of clothing and dropping them into his lap. She smirked when she saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down and her eyes fell back down to his cock, the tip glistening now with the prec*m starting to leak out of it. She slid her hands up her abdomen and squeezed her breasts when she reached them, her body entirely bare before him now. 

     “What’s wrong, Jay? Are you gonna come all over my clothes?” She blinked at him sweetly, feigning innocence before bending over to murmur in his ear. “Why would you do that when my pretty little p*ssy is already waiting for you to fill it up?”

He let out a choked gasp at her words. “F*ck!”

She straightened and giggled at the thunderous expression on his face, his thick brows crashing together over his darkened eyes. Then she flicked her hair over her shoulder and straddled him again, wriggling her body against his as she ground her hips into his slowly.

     “F*****ck,” he groaned into her neck, his dick so painfully hard for her. “Shit, baby. Faster. I need you. Now.” She twisted her fingers into his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look up at her again. 

     “You just don’t listen, do you, Jason?” She flicked her tongue out, licking his lips before giggling and tugging on the skin of his neck with her teeth. “We should do something about that.” She slid her hands down his hard chest, pressing quick kisses down his neck before licking a stripe back up to his ear. 

     “Shit, baby. Anything. I’ll do anything you want me to.” He began thrusting his hips against hers, desperate for relief. “You want me to tell you where the Riddler’s hideout is? I’ll tell you. Gotham … museum … or whatever.” Had they agreed on a location? He couldn’t remember. And he didn’t really care, either way - all he needed was her, her tight little p*ssy clenching around his dick, her warm and wet walls squeezing him tight as he unloaded himself inside of her. She giggled as she bounced up and down on his lap, clearly delighted by how desperate he was for her. Then she took hold of his chin, tilting his face up to hers so she could look him in the eyes. 

     “Really? You’re not just lying to me so I’ll give you what you want?” Jason shook his head quickly, doing his best to focus on what she was saying. But f*ck, she felt good, her p*ssy already dripping for him as she waited for him to fill her up.

     “No!” he reassured her. “I promise. I … Shit. Please, X. Please, sweetheart, I’ll … F*****ck.” His head fell forward as she stopped her movements, his dick pulsing and throbbing with desire. Then finally, she reached down to take hold of his cock, sliding it through her already drenched folds in preparation. He suck in a breath at the feeling of her warm and sticky c*m, then let out a grunt as she started easing him inside of her, his hips thrusting into hers as his body begged him for relief. 

     “Slow down, Jay!” she laughed. “You wanted to hold out against me, right? You didn’t want to give me what I wanted?” She grabbed his hair again and pulled his head back so he was forced to look up at her, at the wicked curl of her lips.

     “And I asked you so nicely, too!” she continued, letting go of him and lowering her lips to his. “Should I wait? Should I just stop and wait for the Batman to come and deal with you?”

     “F*ck, no! Don’t … Shit.” She wouldn’t actually stop, would she? Not when he was already halfway inside of her? “I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you anything you want to know, baby. Please, just …”

     He lowered his head to her shoulder, brushing his lips along her neck and murmuring against her skin. “Come on, sweetheart. Please? I’ll give you anything you want, baby.” 

     “Hmm, anything?” she asked him, her body tingling at the low rumble of his voice, at the way his thick cock filled her up so very nicely. She held his head in her hands, guiding his mouth to her breast as she ground herself into him, her p*ssy pulling him deeper inside of her with every roll of her hips. She shivered as he closed his lips around her nipple, dragging his tongue around it and suckling on it in just the way he knew she liked. “Mmm, shit, Jay.” 

     She moaned at the way he licked and sucked on her breasts, his cock brushing up against her walls every time she moved. She slid her fingers into his hair and tugged on the strands, pulling his head back again to see that dazed look on his face again. Her nipples tingled at the way his eyes had glazed over from pleasure, his pupils so wide now that the beautiful green of his irises had disappeared almost entirely. She giggled at the sight, then pressed her lips to his, moaning into his mouth as she kissed him deeply. He raised his hips to thrust himself into her repeatedly, his dick hitting that one spot that had her curling over in ecstasy. And then she hit her breaking point, her body shuddering and shaking against him as she came. She gripped onto his shoulders, trying to maintain her balance as her p*ssy pulsed around his dick, clenching it tight and begging for him to fill her up. His hips stuttered as his c*m gushed into her, the warm and sticky liquid shooting into her vagina and leaking back out again. X whimpered at the feeling, curling herself around him and burying her face in his neck as he unloaded himself inside of her. Then finally, he leaned back against his seat, the tension leaving his body as he finally got his release. 

     “We … are never doing that again,” Jason panted warningly, his green eyes boring into her as she straightened. His eyes fell to her breasts as she tried to catch her breath, the beautiful mounds glistening with sweat just waiting for him to lick away. 

     “In that case … I guess I’d better take advantage … of right now,” she joked, delighting in the way his dick was still buried inside of her. Jason growled, baring his teeth at her in a snarl. 

     “X. Untie me - right now,” he demanded, not playing around anymore. X sighed and got up off of him, her body protesting at the sudden emptiness inside of her. She knelt down to undo the ties around his ankles, then moved to take care of the one binding his wrists together. He jumped up as soon as he was free, shrugging his shirt and pants off before grabbing her and lifting her up in his arms.      

“Just you wait, sweetheart,” he growled in her ear, carrying her over to his bedroom. “It’s my turn now: and I don’t care if it takes me the entire night to get what I want from you.”

[blakeswritingimagines]

Kink List With Jamie Drysdale

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

He's all smiles and warmth. He loves caring for the person he's been with – making sure you’re hydrated, fed, and maybe even cuddling up for a nap together if it’s been a long session. He just feels so good and warm inside after being with you.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his is definitely his legs – He has long, toned legs that he loves to show off. As for a partner, he really loves your eyes. He finds it so enticing and powerful to look into your eyes during sex.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

He usually releases inside of you when you're engaged in lovemaking. He prefers this method as it gives him the opportunity to truly connect with you in a deep and intimate way, while also being satisfying and fulfilling for both of.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has a very kinky side that only a select few know about. He enjoys exploring new things in the bedroom and he has a weakness for power play and light dom/sub dynamics. Even though he's a top athlete, he likes feeling powerless and vulnerable at times, so it's exciting for him to experiment with that in bed.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

I would say he's pretty experienced in the bedroom. He really enjoys sex, and likes to experiment and try new things. He's had his fair share of experience and he's confident in his skills. But, he's always open to learning more and improving himself. He believes that good sex is all about communication and being comfortable with you.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Generally speaking, he's a pretty open-minded person when it comes to sex positions. He enjoys switching things up and exploring different avenues of pleasure. Some other favorite positions of his include prone bone, doggystyle, and modified doggy.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

More serious at the moment, but he can certainly add some humor if the situation calls for it. He likes to make sure that you are nothing but comfortable and he can lighten the mood by saying something playful or funny if needed.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

The carpet matches the drapes perfectly, he likes to keep himself well-groomed and maintained down there, and always makes sure everything is clean and tidy before he gets into bed with anyone.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

He's very much a romantic person at the moment. He loves to hold hands and kiss, he loves to whisper words of affirmation and how much he cares for you and wants you to feel good. He loves to make eye contact and have intimate conversations, he loves the physical closeness and connection. He loves giving attention and affection, it's definitely one of his strongest traits.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He likes to imagine different scenarios and scenarios with himself or you in order to stimulate his imagination and create an experience if you can't help him out.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

He's a pretty kinky and open-minded person, and he's always open to exploring new things in the bedroom. One of his favorite kinks is definitely being dominant in bed, and he also enjoys incorporating elements of role-play and different power dynamics into his sexual fantasies.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere, he's not really picky about the location, as long as it's somewhere private and comfortable. Some of his favorite places include the bed, the couch, the shower, or even a little bit of outdoor adventure if you can convince him.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

A lot of things turn him on and get him going - He's a very sensual person, so he's easily aroused by physical touch and physical stimulation. He also really loves it when you are vocal, and he loves the sound of your voice, especially when you're expressing your pleasure. He also gets turned on by visual stimulants - seeing your body and seeing your face as you enjoy what he's doing is always a big turn-on for him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Something he wouldn’t do is engage in anything that involves harm or degrading treatment towards you or himself. I think that’s a pretty hard line for him, and he wouldn’t be able to do it even if it was your fetish. He’d also never want to do something that puts your health or safety at risk.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He's really versatile when it comes to giving or receiving, but he definitely leans more towards giving. He loves being the one who is controlling the action and delivering satisfaction to you. As for skill, he's definitely an enthusiastic and talented lover

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He's actually pretty adaptable – He can be fast and rough when the mood calls for it, but he's also really good at being slow and sensual. It really just depends on the mood and what you want at that moment. He's pretty good at reading people and reading the room, so he's pretty able to switch between these two modes and hit it right each time.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Quickies can be hot and exciting, but he definitely prefers proper sex over quickies. Quickies are great for when you're in a hurry or just want to get each other off quickly, but when you have the time and space to explore each other more fully, it's such a different experience. He would never turn down a quickie, but he definitely prefers taking things at a slower pace and really enjoying the process and connecting with you on a deeper level.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's definitely game to experiment - He loves trying new things and pushing boundaries in the bedroom. He's always open to exploring different kinks and play styles, and he's always up for a bit of risk too.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

How many rounds he can go for and how long he lasts can vary a lot, depending on a bunch of factors like his energy level and how excited he is. But I'd say on average, can usually go for around 2-3 rounds, with each round lasting anywhere from 15-30 minutes.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He does own some toys - although he's not really an expert in that department. He definitely uses them on you, and sometimes on himself as well when he's away. In terms of using them on you, he usually incorporates them during foreplay to help you get warmed up or when you want to take things up a notch. For himself, he sometimes uses them to satisfy his own needs when he's feeling a bit more impatient.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves to tease. He really enjoys driving you wild with anticipation and letting you feel like you're slowly going crazy with desire. He loves being the one in control and seeing how much he can push you before you're really begging for him and desperate for release.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I'd say it really depends on the situation and the vibes you've got going on. If you were really turning him on and hitting that spot juuuust right, he can be pretty vocal and make some loud sounds. On the other hand, if you're going slower and taking your time, he might be a bit more subdued.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He really likes it when you tell him how good he is in bed. In a way, it's not that wild, but still, something about it just really drives him wild. It makes him feel so confident and empowered, and the way you say it - just with so much passion and desire - is such a turn-on for him.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

His cock is 7.5 inches long when fully erect, with a girth of around 4.5 inches at the base and a head that is always leaking precum when he's ready to go. It has a perfect curve and a thickness that only gets more impressive as it stiffens up. The glans are always covered in precum and have a deep vein running down its length. His cum is thick and white

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is actually pretty high, probably higher than average. He just really loves having that close, intimate connection with someone and experiencing all the feelings of pleasure that come with it. I'd say he has a pretty active sex life.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It depends on the situation, but usually, after you've had sex, he likes to cuddle up with you and stay up for a little bit, just enjoying the closeness and the after-glow of the moment. He finds that it's a nice way to come down from the high of the experience and savor it before finally falling asleep.

[halbravd]

stereotypes

pairing: sugar daddy!levi x reader.

summary: having a sugar daddy is all fun and games until you realize he’ll never fuck you if you don’t do something. you have to beg for it, to earn the right of bouncing on his cock — otherwise you’ll never get to know the bliss of being fucked by mister ackerman.

content warning: minors do not interact, implied age gap, use of pet names, dry humping, light bondage, oral & fingering (f. receiving), spitting, overstimulation, degradation, impact play (cunt slapping), hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie.

word count: 3k

writer’s note: here’s the reupload i promised! <3

Two months. Two months since it all started, and still nothing from his side. Fresh flowers brought to your apartment every two days, hundreds of dollars sent to your bank account with a little note telling you to buy this or that, dates at the fanciest restaurants… Yet he couldn’t give you so eagerly wanted — Sex. You, who were so afraid he’d ask to fuck you on your first night out, are more confused than ever, as days go by. Why would he buy you so much lingerie if he never planned to see you wearing them one day? Damn. Why was he always so polite, always so distant.

It wasn’t your place to ask him to fuck you senseless… Or was it? The more you think about it, the more you can feel your blood boil in your veins, burning your skin and breaking your heart. It didn’t have to be that personal, yet you just couldn’t help it — If Levi Ackerman was so reluctant when it comes to touch you, you must be the problem.

‘Don’t you find me pretty?’ You break the silence set between the two of you, fingers of yours toying with your fork. Suddenly, the meal in your plate didn’t look as delicious as it used to, long forgotten as the metallic tool played with it for a matter of minutes.

‘If you weren’t I wouldn’t spend a single dollar on you.’ Straight forward, as expected from him. ‘And with the amount of money I’ve spent for your pretty ass, I guess it’s pretty clear.’ Levi adds, his chin resting on the palm of his hand, elbow flush against the glass table. Of course he noticed that something was wrong. As soon as you stepped inside, to be more specific. But would he ask by himself? Surely not — He isn’t your dad or your friend. Most importantly, he thinks you’re old enough to start the conversation.

‘So why don’t you just fuck me instead of playing the cool guy?’ You spit, fork falling in your plate in a loud crash — Metal meeting porcelain. If your words weren’t enough, then it’s probably the tone in your voice that made his eyebrows furrow. Maybe you shouldn’t have raised your voice, maybe you should have tried to act like he didn’t affect you one bit. But this man always knows everything, and hiding things from him has been proven useless, many times.

‘Ah. This is what makes you so angry, after all… Hurts your ego, princess?’ The raven head mutters, a single raise of his finger enough to dismiss the few domestics standing there — He didn’t need them to hear such an important conversation after all. Especially if you decide to throw a tantrum out of the blue. ‘Beg for it, then.’

Eyes widening at his words, you almost choked on your own saliva, taken aback by the sudden change in his eyes. It took you a while to understand he was absolutely serious, silver eyes boring into you until you no longer feel safe in this damn room. It’s a matter of seconds before you feel hopelessly small and vulnerable, teeth nervously nibbling at your lower lip and eyes avoiding his piercing gaze. But there is something so arousing in the way he’s staring at you. The way he straightens his back and waits for an answer, savoring the moment — You can feel it down there, how wet and hot you’re becoming, lace panties damp and sticky.

‘Please, fuck me.’ Damn you didn’t mean to look so desperate. Whimpering like this when he hasn’t even touched you yet, struggling to swallow your own saliva.

‘Come on, be a bit more convincing. You can do much better than that,’ he snorts, and that’s enough to have tears rising to your pretty eyes. He won’t give it to you so easily, and it’s now too late to step back. Of course you could just leave this huge penthouse of his, petty and angry. But that problem sitting so nicely between your legs won’t go away so easily, and he’s the only answer to it.

Putting away your pride for the night, you’re quick to get on your feet, only to kneel right before his eyes, arms wrapped around one of his leg, and cheek rubbing against his thigh. The sight is painfully sinful. So filthy it has his cock throbbing in his pants and his heart missing a beat. Mind flooded with the nastiest thoughts, Adam apple slowly bobbing in his dry throat, he watches you grind your hips against his black polished shoe, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

‘Please Levi, fuck me,’ voice just above a whisper, your chin is met with two of his fingers, the latter lifting your face up so you could see how dark his eyes got. How blown wide his pupils are — All just because of you.

‘I want you naked on my bed. I’ll be there in five.’ Levi mutters, loosening the grip on your chin until he’s no longer holding it. Eyes of yours brighten up at his words, and you’re quick to follow his order, stuttering a bunch of thank yous on your way out.

Saying you walked to his bedroom was an understatement — You literally ran to it, just like you feared he’d change his mind. And you were ridiculously fast at getting rid of your clothes, something he would have definitely mocked you for if he was there, witnessing it all.

But you know how to be obedient when needed, and this is why you’re sitting on his bed all nicely for him, eyes focused on the closed door, painfully aware of your surroundings. Excitation rushed through your veins when you heard his footsteps getting closer and closer. Your mouth salivated when you saw the doorknob slowly rotating.

All of this was nothing compared to the blissful sight he was met with once he opened the door. If he always found you pretty, you were nothing but gorgeous. He stood there, shamelessly staring at your bare body, from your beautiful face to the birth of your breast, your stomach and your exposed pussy — Glistening under the warm lights of his bedroom. It was worth the wait. It was worth the painful rides back home, cock hard as a rock, begging to be taken care of. It was worth waking up in the middle of the night at the thought of you, stroking his hard dick to soothe the accumulated tension.

He wants to ruin you. To wreck that perfect body until it’s clear as day that you’re his. And acting calm and collected becomes more and more difficult, especially when he’s met with those two eyes — Pleading and desperate.

‘On all fours. Ass up.’ Levi orders, and you comply. Cheek buried in the mattress, hands resting from either side of your face, you arch your back oh so nicely, ass in the air and legs slightly spread.

All you can hear is the sound of his hands fumbling with his belt, his pants falling on the ground, soon followed by his dress shirt. The mattress dips under his weight, his cock resting against your ass and eliciting the sweetest gasp off your mouth. His hands trap your wrists, bringing them to the small of your back and tying them together with his leather belt — That makes you frown, mouth opening to protest.

‘You’ve been bad, you don’t deserve to touch me tonight. Be good or I’ll teach you how to behave.’ Levi hisses, not giving you any opportunity to defend yourself. So all you do is groan, a quick nod of your head in approval.

The palm of his hands find their way to your ass, spreading your cheeks to have a clear view of your pussy — Covered in slick, eager to be touched and filled. So much better than the dessert waiting for him downstairs. Hollowing his cheeks, he opens his mouth enough for a ball of saliva to fall close to your fluttering hole, goosebumps adorning your skin.

’Such a pretty cunt just for me, I’m such a lucky man.’ If Levi wasn’t very chatty, he was now the opposite side of the spectrum. Cursing under his breath, praising you for having such a nice body and degrading you for being a needy slut. But all that shame that was burning your face vanished as soon as his tongue got his first ever taste of you, licking a long stripe up your clit, flickering the sensitive bud with the tip of it. It makes you gasp and writhe underneath, eyes rolling at the back of your head and nails digging in the palm of your own hands.

He’s all over the place, and that slowly drives you insane — Pinching your clit with his thumb and index finger, fucking you with his tongue and spreading your folds, always looking for more. But as much as he loves how sweet you taste, it’s the sounds you make that keeps him going. Whispers of his name, high pitched moans when he takes care of that particular spot of yours, breathless gasps when he dips a finger inside.

He can feel your walls fluttering, two knuckles deep enough for him to rub that spongy spot that has your legs shaking and your head spinning. And when his thumb draws tight circles on your swollen clit, you feel yourself unravel right before his eyes. With one arm wrapped around your waist, he has you trapped. You can’t go anywhere, even when you’re trying to squirm away because it’s all too much and not enough at the same time.

‘Levi… I’m gonna—‘ your voice breaks mid-sentence, the coil in your stomach snapping so furiously it pulls a soft scream out of your throat. You’re writhing and moaning, warm juice spilling from your tight hole only to be avidly collected by his hungry tongue. He doesn’t stop either, pumping his fingers in and out of you, lapping your folds and slapping your clit until you’re crying and begging him to stop, too sensitive to keep going.

But even in that state, you’re quick to realize he isn’t doing it for you, but for his own pleasure. Eating you out like a starved man, addicted to your whimpers and the way your back arches so prettily. It’s only when he’s satisfied with how messy your pussy looks, only when his sheets are drenched in your cum, your tears and your drool that he finally straightens his back, chin glistening and lips swollen.

You wish you could see more of him, the blurry view of his face through your watery eyes not even close to be enough for you. But when you try to speak, to ask if you’re allowed yo get on your back, all that spills off your mouth is a bunch of senseless babbles, and a pitiful hiccup. And that makes him chuckle. Evil man’s firm grip on your hip, free hand fisting his cock so the tip of it could slap your sloppy cunt. You whine and he smirks, collecting your arousal and teasing your entrance until you’re crying all over again.

‘Crying like a baby? My little slut doesn’t like to be played with? What a shame.’ And fuck how pretty it is, to hear you sob and cry because of him. That makes his cock grow impossibly harder, string of profanities leaving his lips when the head of his cock stretches your pussy. It’s so tight he’s wondering if all can fit — But he will make sure it will. There’s no way he would be satisfied with only the half of it. He needs to be balls deep in you, has to feel your walls around his cock, and the tip of it nudged against the deepest spot in you.

But there is no way you wouldn’t be good for him, right? So you take him just like he wants to, inch by inch, until he finally bottoms out with a low grunt. Heart vibrating in your chest, air stuck in your burning lungs, it’s like you can feel him in your throat, the veins adorning his cock grazing against your velvet walls and turning you into a whimpering mess. If he isn’t necessarily thick, his length makes up for it — It makes you see stars and lose track of time, pussy fluttering around him as you’re adjusting to his cock.

‘You’re so fucking tight. None of your college boys did a great job at fucking you, right?’ Levi hisses, leaning forward so his lips could kiss the warm flesh of your shoulder, messy and wet.

The grip on your hips is unforgiving, promise of bruises that are yet to paint your skin. The need to break you grows more and more intense, and the urge not to pound into you right now gets unbearable. Hurting you would be like breaking a toy he had for Christmas only a few hours after its addition to his collection, and he wouldn’t want to do that to you… Or does he?

You’re babbling again and that’s what makes his hips rock against yours, each of his thrust stealing the air off your throat, making your body jolts forward. It’s a toe-curling pace, his hips crashing against your ass fervently and with so much strength — He waited so long for this, he doesn’t find the courage to keep it slow and steady anymore. If it wasn’t for the grip on your hips, you’ll be flying god knows where.

‘Please… More…’ you struggle, but the words are there. Eyes turning white, hands wriggling in a failed attempt to get rid of his belt, all you can do is moan and take what he has to give you without a complaint.

‘Such a slut. Hopeless.’ He grunts, one of his hands flying to your hair, fisting them in a messy ponytail and yanking your head backward. He wants to see those pretty eyes of yours, the tears falling down your cheeks and staining your skin with mascara. He wants to see the disheveled look on your face and the way your mouth hangs open shamelessly, inked in his mind forever.

You don’t even know how he managed to, be he did as he’s told — Faster, deeper. How can such a small man be so brutal — That’s a question you’ll have plenty of time to think about… But not right now. Unable to think or speak, you can’t even warn him of your upcoming orgasm. Strangled moans fall off your mouth messily, gummy walls clamping down on him like a vice and making it almost impossible for him to keep going.

But when he’s struggling to chase his high, you’re too far away to care. Making a mess on his sheets, being so vocal about your own pleasure you fail to hear him groan and pant. A few more deep thrusts was all it took for Levi to reach his end, thick ropes of cum filling you to the brim and dripping off your abused cunt. It has his grip on your hair tightening, bringing you back to reality only for you to hear the prettiest sounds on earth.

There’s something about how whiny he gets when he finishes, how sensitive his cock becomes when he keeps fucking into you to make sure you won’t lose a single drop of his cum, that makes you shiver. Letting go of your hair and resting on his heels, Levi’s hands grab your waist only to bring you closer to him, your ass flush against his hips and his cock still buried deep.

He’s a sight for sore eyes — Beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and the tip of his nose, muscles flexing and wet strands of hair falling before his eyes, hips still stuttering and chest heaving. All he needs is a few seconds to go back to his usual self, but even with that, he’s not quite ready to let go of this sweet pussy of yours.

[camimadra]

Unruly Patient ◇ Zayne x reader ◇ fluff ◇ 2,249 words

You take deep breaths as you walk along the corridor, convincing yourself that you’re doing the right thing. Earlier, you’ve been at the hospital for a checkup when you’ve been told that Zayne is sick himself and another doctor will check on you.

While you’d rather have Zayne as your doctor, you went along with the checkup, knowing full well that he would be angry with you for skipping it. Afterward, you still kept thinking about Zayne, and that’s how you ended up here, at his place.

After another deep breath, you knock on the door, hoping that Zayne won’t chew you up and spit you out for just dropping in without warning. It takes a few moments until the door finally opens, and your breath hitches when you see Zayne.

His eyes and nose have a slight red tinge and he looks tired. There’s nothing left of his usual vitality and energetic aura and even worse is the fact that he’s wearing sweatpants and a plain shirt. You’ve never seen him look so vulnerable and out of his element.

“Yes?” he asks, his tone and expression quite pensive, but both grow softer when his eyes fall on you. “You’re here? Why?”

“Hello, Dr. Zayne,” you say, trying your best to keep your voice steady. “I just finished my checkup and got told at the hospital that you’re sick.”

“Call me Zayne, please. I know well enough that I’m a doctor,” he says, and his usual stoic expression returns to his face. “If your checkup is finished, then why are you here?”

“To help you get better, of course. You take care of me when I’m sick, so I might as well return the favor.”

You hold up the little basket you brought, filled with medication and home remedies that he could try to get better. Thanks to your grandma, you certainly have a lot of those.

“I think we just established that I’m a doctor,” Zayne says as he raises a doubtful eyebrow at your basket. “It’s my job to take care of you. You on the other hand risk getting sick yourself.”

You assumed it would be hard to persuade him, but you’re not giving up just yet. “Considering that you’re the best doctor I know, I thought you would want to get better as quickly as possible so you can care for your patients again. Maybe I was wrong.”

Zayne lets out a small growl, but then he steps aside and opens the door wider for you. “Show me then what you have in there that can heal me.”

You walk through the door and make the mistake of taking a deep breath as you pass Zayne. Usually a little bit of the hospital clings to him, like the smell of disinfectant, but now it’s like walking through a snowy forest, the trees covered in morning frost. You imagine a low rising sun, making everything glitter in the first light, and a sense of calm washes over you.

Only when Zayne closes the door behind you do you manage to snap out of it. He steps up to you and points to a door. “In here.”

You walk into a surprisingly comfortable living room. Judging by Zayne’s office, you imagined his home to be just as minimalistic, but the room is dominated by a huge blue sofa on a fluffy rug, one side covered with a whole array of pillows. The walls are lined with wooden shelves, most of the space used for books, but there are a few little trinkets you wouldn’t mind looking at a little closer. You don’t want to pry though, so you wait for Zayne and follow him to the sofa when he sits down.

“Will you tell me your secrets now?” Zayne asks, leaning over to you. For a moment you’re unable to speak, but then you remember the basket in your hand.

“These are the medications I usually use,” you say, handing them to him, and your hand tingles when Zayne’s fingers brush against yours. 

He does you the favor of checking them all thoroughly although you suspect that as a doctor, he probably recognizes them on sight. Finally, he hands them back. “These are similar to what I already take, so you better keep these in case you get infected.”

The words are accompanied with a frown, telling you that Zayne still disapproves of you being here. “I never get sick. Hurt maybe, but not sick. You should know that.”

Zayne’s face grows even more grim, but he still hums in agreement. “I guess that’s true.”

“Anyway, what you really need is this,” you say, pulling out a small container. “Best soup for when you’re sick. You’ll have to heat it up, but then it’ll do wonders.”

“You cooked this yourself?” Zayne asks, and something in his voice twists your stomach into knots. He sounds surprised and somewhat touched, making you wonder if nobody ever cooked for him when he was sick.

“Yes, I did. It’s a special recipe from my grandmother. No sickness has a chance to survive this one.”

Zayne takes the soup from you and studies it for a moment before setting it down on the table. “Thank you for making the effort. I have just eaten, so I have to try this later.”

“No worries,” you say, “we can start with this instead.”

You pull out a small cream jar and open it up to hold it under Zayne’s nose. “This is great to help you breathe better, especially when you sleep.”

You’re about to pull your hand back, but Zayne holds on to your wrist. His fingers are cool against your warm skin, and the tingling feeling is back until he tugs lightly to get the jar closer to his face. “That does smell good. Where do you apply it?”

“Under your nose,” you say, “although it feels a little cold to the skin. You might prefer to put it on your chest and get under a blanket.”

“I don’t mind when it’s cold,” Zayne says, and while he lets go of your wrist, he studies you intendly. “How about you? Does the cold bother you?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking about your medicine or himself, but you want to make sure that he doesn’t feel bad in any case. “No, I quite like it. It feels nice, especially when you’re running a fever.”

“I don’t think I do,” Zayne says. “As my self-declared nurse, will you check my temperature?”

There’s a taunt in his voice, but he will learn that you don’t give up easily. He can make fun of you all he wants, but you’re determined to take care of him. 

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you muster up the courage to lift your hand and put it on his forehead. For a second, he draws back, but then he holds still, the tiniest of smiles appearing on his lips. "Measuring my temperature like this won’t give you any valuable results. Even you should know that.”

“Even I can tell that you don’t have a fever,” you say, taking your hand back. “So my methods are perfectly fine. You just need to be a better patient.”

Zayne seems to ponder that for a moment before he looks at the jar in your hand. “My nose is not the only problem. I had trouble sleeping due to a light cough. Would you recommend putting the cream on my chest?”

“Of course. That way it will be the most effective.”

Maybe you should have caught on to his scheme sooner the second Zayne stopped arguing with you, but you’ve been so invested in making him better that you never stopped to think how he might tease you.

Without warning, Zayne pulls his shirt over his head. He brings his arms down to cover his stomach with it, but that still leaves his naked chest. You try to look away as he leans back against the pillows, but Zayne’s eyes don’t leave you for even a second. “Will you apply the medicine then? After all, it’s your duty as my nurse.”

You know he’s doing this on purpose to get you to cave, but you certainly won’t give him the satisfaction. He might make you nervous, but two can play this game, and you certainly did way more frightening things in your life than touch your crush.

“Fine,” you simply say while scooting closer. Then you put a generous amount of cream on your fingers and lean over Zayne. He still has this triumphant look in his eyes as if there’s no way you could keep going. 

You prove him wrong by dapping little blobs of the cream along his collarbone before turning your attention to his chest. The cream needs to be rubbed in to work properly and you start by making little circles with your fingertips, prompting Zayne to close his eyes and lean his head back. 

While you’re no longer under his scrutiny, you use the chance to study his face. It’s a little unfair that he can be this pretty while sick and tired, but you’re glad that he tries to relax. Fighting the urge to run your hand through his hair, your focus on rubbing the cream into his skin wherever it makes sense. It’s soft and warm to the touch, and you get a little lost in what you’re doing.

Zayne opens his eyes and lifts his head while raising an eyebrow at you. “I might not be a nurse, but I don’t think this is supposed to go there.”

With horror, you realize that you ran your fingers along his neck, your thumb still following the sharp line of his jaw. You quickly take your hand back and get to your feet. “I need to wash my hands.”

“The bathroom is at the end of the corridor,” Zayne says and you fly out of the room, your heart pounding.

As you wash off the cream, you can’t stop picturing Zayne just lying there and letting you take care of him. Usually, he pushes everybody away who even suggests that he needs help. Does that mean something, or is he simply trying to be nice?

After a few deep breaths, you walk back into the living room, finding Zayne going through the basket. He put his shirt back on which might actually be healthier for you at the moment and you dare to sit down next to him.

“All these things you brought,” Zayne says, his eyes finding you again. “One could think you were trying to take care of the whole house, not just me.”

“I don’t care about the whole house,” you say before you can stop yourself. The implication is pretty clear and something in Zayne’s eyes seems to shift. You bite your lip and decide that maybe you made enough of a fool of yourself for today. “I should probably go.”

You try to get up, but Zayne grabs your wrist again. The touch is light and you could still get free, but you’re rooted to the spot as Zayne looks up at you. “I’m still having trouble sleeping. Shouldn’t my nurse help with that?”

This time, he doesn’t sound like he’s teasing you, and you wonder if he doesn’t want to be alone. After all, who doesn’t want to be taken care of while sick.

“If you have a cough, you should try to lie a little elevated,” you say, propping up some of the pillows behind Zayne. “Try it.”

Zayne lies down, but frowns. “This isn’t particularly comfortable.”

He takes a big, soft pillow and puts it into your lap, and before you can ask what he’s doing, he lies down on it, looking up at you. “Is that okay?”

“Yes,” you say, trying not to sound as breathless as you feel. “Is that more comfortable?”

Zayne turns to the side and closes his eyes, his nose barely an inch apart from your tummy. If he leaned forward just a tiny bit, he could bury his whole face in it. “It’s perfect.”

You wait for a bit to make sure that he stays this way, and since he’s the one who got into this position, you find the courage to touch him again. He doesn’t move when you trail your fingers over his forehead and tousle his hair, and when you pet along his ear and neck, he lets out a soft hum and looks up at you. “This is nice. I already feel better.”

“Nice try,” you say in a mocking tone although your heart tries to beat out of your chest. “You need sleep, so close your eyes.”

Zayne actually does as he’s told and you go back to petting him. He whispers a small “Thank you,” and you’re pretty sure he falls asleep right after. It’s not exactly the most comfortable position for you to be in, but you don’t mind at all.

It’s nice to see him relaxed and comfortable, especially when you’re the reason for it. Now you only have to figure out your own problem. When you came here, you thought you were helping a friend that you have a bit of a crush on, but looking down at him now, you know it’s way worse. You might be a little bit in love with Zayne, and knowing him, it’s going to be impossible to tell if he feels the same way about you.