#the commanders aren't amused

[bi-writes]

ghost is such a daddy, isn't he? ;) too bad he's such a dick. (18+)

but it's hard to find a donor. you've been single for practically your whole life, it's the whole reason you're looking to just get pregnant by yourself. you don't need a man--you can walk into a clinic and pick from their little flip book.

but none of them fit what you're looking for. too short, hairline too far back, you don't care for the look in their eyes or the occupation they chose or their descriptions of how much they like model trains and reading george orwell every christmas. they're john does in different colored suits, and they reek of entitlement and the need for perfection and lack the individuality that you crave.

not special, no--you're looking for an edge. and none of them have it.

you're glaring at your lieutenant from three hundred yards away when your eyes soften with realization. ghost is such a bastard to you; he snaps at you easily, uses his obvious stature to overpower you in the most inconvenient of situations, and he always turns his nose up at you for being even slightly less than perfection, just a smidge off your target or just below your personal record.

he demands more of everyone he commands, but you in particular he likes to pick on. you used to think it was because you were the only woman around, but that wasn't it. ghost isn't a misogynist, he's just a right asshole.

but a gorgeous one. not in the way he looks, per say, because his face isn't all that pretty. you've seen his face, glimpses of it, enough to put the puzzle together in your head. he wears mangled skin, torn apart at the seams and scarred to high hell, but ghost is more than just stitched together skin.

he's huge. large and so fucking well in charge. he takes up space, and he does it with intent. spreads his legs when he takes a seat, crosses his arms over his chest when he's standing idly by. his expressions aren't visible under the mask he wears, but it is very obvious when he isn't happy. his glare burns through the fabric, dark eyes narrowed intensely; it is impossible to not understand when ghost is less than amused by you.

he's so capable. you've seen him take apart his gun and put it back together many times. big fingers sliding over metal and fastening it back together with practiced ease. you've seen him haul over two hundred pounds of man over a railing, seen him set up his sniper rifle and shoot a target more than a thousand yards away. he's smart, and he knows what he's doing, and even in the face of uncertainty and chaos, he's oftentimes the voice of reason in the field, and it's sexy.

god, he's so fucking hot. especially when he's rolling up his sleeves, showing off one sleeve of shitty military tattoos and telling the private that's practically in tears what a fucking muppet he is for assembling his standard issue pistol without a fucking magazine loaded into it.

that's what you want.

someone resilient. capable of overcoming tragedy, of finding purpose even when there really isn't anything to live for. the drive of bettering yourself, of not fucking it up, of being able to breathe easy and get out of a corner even when the path ahead is just more of the unknown.

unable to die.

"ever thought of being a father, lieutenant?"

he laughs, bitterly, licking the pad of his thumb before rubbing at a spot on the scope of his rifle.

"fuckin' hate kids," he mutters. "loud. dirty." he grunts. "besides. bloodline dies with me. don't need anymore fuckin' rileys mucking up this place."

you bite your lip. it's not the worst reason you've ever heard. it's just too bad he's exactly the kind of baby daddy you're looking for.

"that's too bad, lieutenant," you purr, standing up. you pass by him, your hips swaying and brushing against his shoulder. it's enough of a touch that his gaze follows you as you leave, his eyes flickering to the curve of your ass as you leave. "you'd make such a good daddy."

the fuck?

it's hard to focus. you keep bending over in front of him; dropping papers, picking things up, leaning over desks just to make his face twitch under the mask. you're constantly in his line of sight, wearing the tightest fucking shirts he's ever seen. cleavage on display, definitely a violation of protocols that no one is enforcing, and it's making his head spin as you lick chocolate off your fingers and swipe it off the curve of your breast. he thinks you must be mad when you make eye contact with him and keep it as you slip two fingers into your mouth and suck.

the worst was when he was stuck in the back of a humvee with you. the back was packed, soldiers pressed together as they rode back to base. he was sweaty and exhausted, leaning his head back as the truck rattled along the dirt road. on a particularly rough bump, you bounced into his lap, ass pressed back against his pelvis. on instinct, one gloved hand caught you by the curve of your waist, and you hummed as you leaned back against him.

"sorry, lieutenant," you had cooed, in that soft, honeyed voice he hated. "am i hurting you?"

"fuck you, sergeant," he had snapped, but his growl was cut short when you arched your back a little, nestling your ass against the fucking hard rock in his pants.

"just happy to see me then?"

acckkk, a fucking fiend, you are. pressing up against him when you slip into line in front of him in the mess hall. asking him for help because your aim is off, just to look at him from over your shoulder and give him that smile. the absolute doe eyes you give him when he berates you for the hundredth time that day, just for you to mumble back, "oh...yes, of course, sir..."

ngghhh...and he's thinking about you. thinking about smoothing a hand down your back as he bends you over a desk. thinking about what it would be like if you climbed over him on his cot and sat your fat ass down onto his face. thinking about the sounds you'd make, the big, wet eyes you'd give him, how good you'd look in his bed and wearing his clothes and cumming on his cock--

"the fuck are y'doin' ta me?" he growls in your ear. you blink up at him, tilting your head back, leaning against his door.

"johnny said you were training, so i thought i'd wait for you. got something real important to talk to you about."

you smile at him innocently, ducking under his arm as you slink into his room. when he shuts the door, you spin around to face him again, giggling.

"there's something i want."

"out with it."

"something i need."

"fuckin' tolk then, yeah?"

"want a baby, lieutenant."

"yeah, right mad about tha', luv."

"want your baby."

he laughs, humorless, "be fuckin' honest."

but you are honest. you're honest when you smile wider, and you're honest when you turn around. you're honest when you bend over onto your forearms against the cot in his room, and you're honest when you shimmey your trousers just low enough, right under your ass, showing off the wet cunt you've had since watching his arms flex as he stacked boxes after breakfast.

he steps forward, leaning over, smoothing two big hands up your plush thighs before spreading your ass, watching your little hole pucker. he smirks, chuckling low.

"'f y'want t'be a riley so bad, don't need to 'ave m'baby, swee'eart," he murmurs, but the echo of his belt undoing clinks in the room anyways. you squirm a little when you hear the zipper of his pants.

"but i want it," you whine, and you slide your arms out in front of you, pressing back against him as you grip the thin sheets on his bed. "i want it!"

"shhhhh," he scolds, gripping his cock with a calloused hand and shoving it between your thighs. you moan as he wets his cock along your folds, grinding slow, getting himself nice and slick. "y'want m'baby, swee'eart? wanna 'ave my cubs? gonna be bears, love. they're gonna split y'open, got such a little cunt."

you cry out, pressing back against him.

"want it! i want it!"

ghost chuckles again, laying over you, his weight pinning you down as he laces his fingers with yours. he's so big, you can feel him heavy and throbbing between your thighs. you need it, even if it doesn't take, even if he just takes you apart right now, you need it.

"you'll make such a good mama though," he mutters, mostly to himself. "fuck...you'll get so bloody nice and fat. nnghh..." he lets go of one of your hands to smack his paw against one side of your ass, gripping it tight and jiggling it. "every part of ya. right for the taking, luvvie. oll f'me."

he reaches down between you, notching the head at your entrance before sinking in easy. you're so wet now, dripping between your thighs, and he grunts as his hips meet your ass quick.

"tits'll get so big..." he smacks his lips together before giving you a heavy thrust. "fuckin' hell...takin' y'out afta this...gonna make you a fuckin' riley today. how's tha' sound, aye?"

you gurgle a little, a line of drool dribbling down your chin. he leans over, pushing his mask up, and he licks your spit off your face, his breath hot as he starts to pick up the pace, fucking into you quick.

"want y'just like this, every day," he growls in your ear. "in m'bed...spread out for me..." he sucks on the edge of your ear, making you cry. "gonna 'ave y'for oll three meals, swee'eart--fuck--until we know it takes."

you smile, your cheek smushed into the bed and rubbing raw against the sheets as he fucks into you from behind. his big hands squeeze your own, holding onto you tight, and you push back against him, your orgasm coming unexpectedly as he babbles in your ear about your tight cunt, your pretty face, the perfect place for him to empty his cock. it makes your vision go white, but you don't feel satiated until he holds his hips against you from behind and curses as he spills inside.

so creamy, slick and soft, but he refuses to waste a single drop. he keeps his pelvis against you, wrapping a forearm around your waist and yanking you up until your back meets his chest. you giggle, dizzy and a little drunk, leaning your head back against him.

"knew you'd fuck me," you mumble, sticking your tongue out, not satisfied until he leans down and kisses you, sucking your tongue into his mouth and kissing you wet and sloppy. he laughs, his chest rumbling, and you put your hands over his, scratching along his skin as he licks into your mouth.

"tha' right, luv? why's that?"

you giggle. "because i always get what i want, simon."

next

[manikas-whims]

request for LADS

what if u have to fake date the guys for some reason but its starts becomin difficult for ur heart cuz you start catching feelings

thank you 🙏

thanks for this request! ♡ i went a lil overboard with this LOL. WARNING ⚠️ long post..

Fake Dating the Love and Deepspace men but you catch feelings pt. 1

ZAYNE

❄️ Tara keeps trying to set you up with one of her colleagues, and no matter how subtle she acts about it, you're getting tired of it. Thus, you come to this decision! You request Zayne to play your fake boyfriend for a while.

❄️ The matter of his own feelings aside, Zayne just thinks that fake dating someone to avoid potential dates is incredibly crazy. “You can simply ask your friend to stop.”

❄️ His suggestion is baffling. You feel like an idiot for ignoring the obvious solution. But only a moment later realize that even asking her to stop won't likely deter Tara. At least not until she sees you with a person better than any of her chosen candidates.

❄️ So you decide to let go of the little self-respect you have and beg Zayne to do this for you. He is amused by this ridiculous proposition but agrees nonetheless since he can never really say no to you.

❄️ It's an amazing experience cause Zayne is the perfect boyfriend anyone could ever ask for— handsome, smart, caring, strict when needed, protective and very accommodating.

❄️ The first time Tara meets him, her eyes literally glow with admiration. And she pats your back like a proud aunt, winking suggestively as she does so.

❄️ However, Zayne has always been great at adapting to the situations at hand and soon your arrangement starts becoming a bit of a problem for your delicate heart.

❄️ It is one thing to show him off to your colleagues. But Zayne has started doing stuff like dropping you home everyday after work, his only explanation being “that's what he would do if he was your REAL boyfriend”.

❄️ And this isn't all. He's taking breaks in the afternoon to have lunch with you everyday and make sure you don't miss any meals. He slips your hand inside his coat pocket on particularly colder days. He even focuses on the little things like wiping a coffee stain from your bottom lip or gently pushing the stray strands of hair behind your ear. All this while, his explanation is: it's what he would do if he were your real boyfriend. And you aren't sure your heart will manage long if this goes on.

❄️ The real issue arises when one of your colleagues point out how they've never seen you kiss. And this makes Tara perk-up too.

❄️ In your defense, you spout some nonsense about how Zayne is kinda shy by nature and doesn't believe in PDA much. “When we're alone, he's very passionate.”

❄️ This leads to Tara and a bunch of colleagues secretly tailing you when Zayne comes to pick you up one evening. For they also wanna see this passionate side of him.

❄️ “Um..Zayne, can we kiss?” You whisper, your eyes averted, and fingers fiddling in nervousness. Its not that you are worried about the "kissing" part. Thats easy. You are actually worried about kissing Zayne.

❄️ As for Zayne, he is confused and shocked at first. Even blushes a little. But thanks to his perceptive nature, he quickly spots your colleagues and understands.

❄️ So as you clumsily teeter closer to him and raise yourself on your feet to reach his height, he chuckles at your efforts as well as the pained expression on your face.

❄️ “Relax.” He commands and magically, his words do calm your nerves a little.

❄️ He smiles then, his big arms wrapping smoothly around your waist as he lowers his head and lets his lips gently linger against yours, igniting a desire within you.

❄️ When he finally pulls back moments later, you nearly loose your footing.

❄️ This is it. The last shred of your sanity blown away. It may have only been a few moments but the kiss leaves an impact on you. Your heart can't take it anymore. Because you enjoyed the kiss more than you should have. And its made you realise that you may have actual feelings for Zayne.

XAVIER

⭐ There's this creepy resident at your apartment complex who's been trying to make moves on you but he's just been so nice and subtle about it that you have no idea how to turn him down. Thus, instead of that, you ask Xavier to play your fake boyfriend for a while.

⭐ “This doesn't seem like a good idea.” He says, hesitantly scratching his cheek.

⭐ Xavier also believes beating the shit out of the guy is a better option, and a permanent solution. But again, you can't do that because the guy hasn't actually done anything threatening or concerning. Thus, any sort of unwarranted violence against such a guy will only result in more problems for Xavier and You.

⭐ So Xavier sighs, and nods with a smile. “Fine. What do you need me to do?”

⭐ “Just do things only a boyfriend would do whenever that guy is around.” You tell him and he nods.

⭐ And so it starts with you dragging Xavier out for morning laps and evening walks around the complex, and you always make sure to hold onto Xavier's arm whenever you spot the strange guy.

⭐ But as the days go by, you sense as if Xavier may be a little too good at his new job.

⭐ One evening as you are working out at the gym on the top floor of the apartment complex, the guy walks in and approaches you. To your annoyance, he begins his usual small talk. But he's barely strung two words together when you feel the warmth of a hand gliding along your waist.

⭐ You look up to find Xavier, his clothes sweaty from workout. He tucks his chin on top off your head, his arm around your waist tightening ever so slightly. “Do you know this guy?”

⭐ It takes a moment for you to realise you're gawking! At the same guy you had asked to pretend to be your boyfriend. And it's not just his fingers stroking circles on your belly but also the way his voice sounds more intimate!??

⭐ Quickly, you compose yourself and stammer a response. “N-Not really. He's a resident just like us.”

⭐ And with that said, you're being steered out of the gym, Xavier's arm never leaving your waist.

⭐ Ever since you've known him, he rarely breaches your personal space without permission. A gentleman through and through. It's you who's been messing with his hair, squishing his cheeks and poking his chest to tease him all this time.

⭐ But ever since you asked him to play boyfriend, he's the one initiating skinship at the most unexpected moments. It's as if this fake dating arrangement has given him a free pass to do everything he usually holds back from.

⭐ Now he holds your hand whenever you're walking together, idly plays with your hair strands when hanging out at your place, and ALWAYS makes sure his arms are around your waist or face nuzzling your neck in the presence of that strange guy.

⭐ You may have been the one who requested him to do this but you aren't so sure about this whole thing anymore.

⭐ A few weeks have passed but the guy is persistent. Now he's always trying to find you when he's sure Xavier won't be around.

⭐ “It's not working. We need to do something more convincing.” You say in a deflated tone. You and Xavier are standing in the hallway of your floor, having just returned from a mission.

⭐ And that creep is lurking at the end of the floor by the elevator, waiting for Xavier to leave so he can ask you out yet again.

⭐ Xavier tucks a hand under his chin, his nose scrunching in thought. “Something more you say..”

⭐ Then in the very next moment, he pushes you against your own apartment door, a hand coming to rest upon it to keep you in place; his other hand gently cradles your face, arching it slightly before he presses his lips against your own.

⭐ Only a moment later he pulls away, then kisses you again. This time with more fervor than needed to fake it. And when he breaks the kiss again, his lips gravitate towards your neck.

⭐ “Xa..Xavier..?” You're stunned. You're not even sure how you are meant to react.

⭐ Xavier pushes away from you slightly and turns his head, his gaze directed right at the strange man. “She’s mine.” He asserts.

⭐ The man is as shocked as you are and immediately runs away.

⭐ Xavier looks back at you and flashes his usual soft smile. “This should convince him enough.”

⭐ Seriously!? Who cares about that guy anymore? Your heart is the most convinced that you may possibly be falling for Xavier.

RAFAYEL

🌊 “Miss Bodyguard, would you like to date me?” Rafayel asks one day out of the blue, and you are left feeling equal parts flustered and confused because WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?

🌊 He enjoys watching you trying to act nonchalant when your fidgety movements and flushed cheeks clearly tell him otherwise.

🌊 Finally he explains how he has accumulated quite the fanbase, thanks to not just his art but his gorgeous looks. And now these same loving fans are becoming slightly toxic with how they stalk him around, making it impossible for him to even go out in peace. Aa such, he wants to promote you from the position of his bodyguard to fake girlfriend.

🌊 You don't like the sound of it. You can already smell trouble from afar but you know he'll keep pestering until you relent. So you agree to it in the end.

🌊 Only later you realise what you've actually gotten yourself into.

🌊 Rafayel is already kinda clingy by nature but now that you've agreed to his dating charade, he's fully taking advantage of it.

🌊 Everytime he drags you out to a public spot, he makes sure that the two of you hold hands. And rather than going to places that may inspire him for his paintings, he drags you to expensive fashion brands stores.

🌊 Even as you refuse to let him buy any of it, he makes you try on the outfits for hours, making you turn this way and that, asking you to pose in specific ways as he snaps numerous photographs (which he'll definitely use as reference for his portraits of you). And just when you think it's over with all the fancy clothes, he makes you try on footwear next.

🌊 He's also buying you all these gifts you never asked for. He's basically spoiling you with things you can't otherwise afford.

🌊 He's also posting a lot of cringe yet cutesy couple photos with you on his social media accounts.

🌊 And you may not admit it but you are beginning to enjoy being spoilt like this.

🌊 Weeks pass without you even realising. This arrangement is becoming more and more dangerous for your heart. Because lets be honest Rafayel may be enjoying playing around with you like this but the same can't be said for you. You know that if this goes on any longer, your heart is bound to make space for him.

🌊 “How much longer do we need to keep this up?” You ask one day.

🌊 He merely winks at you. “Just a little longer.”

🌊 You try your best to keep your emotions in check. You just need to endure him and his charm for a little longer. Heck! You kill wanderers for a living so the matters of heart shouldn't be anymore difficult than that. Right? Right?

🌊 Oh how foolish you are.

🌊 It happens during a private gala Rafayel is invited to and of course as his “girlfriend”, you're supposed to go with him.

🌊 That, and the other reason being this crazy musician who will be there. Apparently she's been hitting on Rafayel for a while now, and your appearance may finally make her retreat.

🌊 So there, amidst the crowd of snobbish strangers, Rafayel asks you for a dance. And in the dim glow of the hall, paired with a slow, romantic tune, he feels closer than he is. And it happens..your resolve falters.

🌊 He wiggles a brow towards the corner of the room, and surely enough, you spot the aforementioned crazy musician. Indeed, she doesn't seem very happy with the way Rafayel has his arms around you.

🌊 And to deliberately spur her further, he lowers his head. His breath is ticklish along your skin as he whispers in your ear. “You’ve moved along quite well to my tune. You're a good dancer.”

🌊 For some reason, you don't like those words. Rafayel complimenting you so freely cannot be a good sign.

🌊 “Just endure a little longer, Miss Bodyguard. Tonight will be the last run of this charade.”

🌊 Then he tucks a lose strand of hair behind your ear and leans his face in, his lips gently brushing along yours before pressing harder.

🌊 The kiss is slow and lingering, just like the song being played. But it seems that the moment you begin to give in and truly relish it, the moment ends. He pulls away and smiles.

🌊 Yet you can't muster enough strength to smile back for its happened. Your resolve is broken. Your heart has already reserved the best spot for him. And you aren't ready to let go of this charade any time soon..

here's [PART 2]

i have 4-5 more LADS requests to finish. i'm working on them and will post them soon ✌️😊

THANKS FOR READING ♡

SEND ME REQUESTS FOR LOVE & DEEPSPACE HEADCANONS VIA ASKS.

» MASTERLIST «

[majikkulu]

𝟎𝟎𝟏 ⭑ 𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖇𝖊𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖋𝖚𝖑? .ᐟ by majikkulu

allegedly, for entertainment purposes only ━━ ❝ masterlist ❞

⭑ 𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖊

what makes you truly beautiful is your confidence. people are often captivated by how easygoing and charming you are. you're always open to new experiences and unafraid to chase after something new. your adventurous spirit and readiness to explore the world inspire and energize those around you. you also offer a deep sense of security and comfort that makes people feel at ease in your presence. your sense of style and natural aesthetic draw people in, creating a warm and inviting environment. it's easy to imagine that you even smell wonderful! people are naturally drawn to you because you make them feel comfortable enough to open up and share. your magnetic presence and ability to blend in so effortlessly impress others. you’re someone who isn’t afraid to take bold actions, and your strength often surprises people. you have a knack for knowing just what to say and when to say it, bringing light into every room you enter, even when you're just being yourself. your laugh is contagious, and your calming presence is another beautiful aspect of who you are. you have a natural grace and a unique ability to bring people together, always finding beauty in everything around you.

⭑ 𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖜𝖔

pile two, your beauty lies in your ability to connect deeply with emotions. you have a gift for forming genuine, meaningful connections with others. you embrace change, even when it brings challenges, and have a natural understanding of life's rhythms—the ups and downs. you're always there to offer support to anyone who needs it. your kindness and empathy are rare gifts, making you a breath of fresh air. you have a way of evoking feelings of nostalgia in others, which makes you incredibly approachable. children are likely drawn to you, captivated by your warm and intriguing aura. your eagerness to learn and explore, always finding new ways to be creative, adds to your unique beauty. you're quick to take on challenges, and the way you speak is both captivating and amusing to others. above all, you have a healing energy that affects people without you even trying. simply spending time in your presence helps others feel restored. you truly understand people on a deep level. you are enchanting.

⭑ 𝖕𝖎𝖑𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊

you're far more mature than most people your age. you're wise, reliable, and trustworthy, and you don’t need validation from others to know your worth. you're independent and self-sufficient, focused on achieving your goals through your own hard work. what makes you beautiful is your clarity of purpose—you know what you want, and you go after it fearlessly. your dominant and assertive nature can be intimidating, but it's also captivating. you have a commanding presence that inspires others to do better, and you never settle for less than what you deserve. there’s a certain mystery about you; you don’t easily reveal much about yourself and aren't swayed by trivial things. are you a bit melancholic, pile 3? do you appear sad to some people? you’re unafraid of conflict and even thrive on competition. your passionate nature draws both wanted and unwanted attention, and it’s likely that some people are jealous of you. but you never back down; you always fight for what you believe in. you’d probably excel in debates and arguments, too.

[littleprinces]

The Korean Rookie

Idol Minju x M! Reader

As I entered the dimly lit room, I could see her silhouette in the corner. Park Minju, the Korean new Idol I had been eyeing for weeks. She was alone, sipping on her drink, her black hair flowing over her back. I approached her, my heart racing with anticipation.

Hey, Minju," I said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "Do you mind if I join you?"

She looked up at me, her eyes a mix of curiosity and desire. "Sure, I don't mind," she replied, a small smile playing on her lips.

We exchanged small talk, discussing our jobs and interests. I could feel the sexual tension building between us. I decided to take a risk and make my move.

"Minju, I have to tell you, you're incredibly sexy," I said, my voice low and seductive. "I can't help but imagine what it would be like to have you beneath me, your legs wrapped around my waist as I thrust into you."

She looked at me with wide eyes, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I... I don't usually do this," she stammered.

"I know, and that's what makes it so exciting," I replied, my hand reaching out to stroke her cheek. "Let's go back to my place, and we can explore each other's bodies."

Minju hesitated for a moment, but the desire in her eyes was clear. She nodded her consent, and we left the bar together

Once we arrived at my apartment, I led her to the bedroom, where I began to undress her slowly. I could feel her body trembling beneath my touch as I pulled her shirt over her head, revealing her perky tits.

"I want you to lie down on the bed," I commanded, my voice deep and authoritative. She complied, her eyes never leaving mine.

I crawled on top of her, my lips finding hers in a passionate kiss. Our tongues danced together as I explored her mouth, tasting her sweetness.

"You're being such a good little slut, aren't you?" I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. She whimpered in response, her eyes glazing over with lust.

I positioned myself behind her, my cock throbbing with need. I spanked her ass, leaving a red handprint on her flesh. She yelped in surprise, but her body betrayed her pleasure.

"Ahhh oppa, this is so good" she moan so hard, makes my cock harder

"Do you like being degraded like this?" I whispered in her ear as I nibbled on her earlobe. She moaned softly in response, her body arching into mine.

I moved down to her breasts, licking and sucking on her nipples while I massaged her ass. She let out a soft gasp as I pinched one of her nipples, my fingers leaving red marks on her delicate skin.

Doggy style, you dirty little whore," I growled as I slid my cock into her tight pussy. She cried out in pleasure as I began to thrust, my hands gripping her hips tightly.

"Ah oppa, you are so big, claim this dirty slut as yours, oppa" Minju moan softly

"Fuck Park Minju, you are so tight ughh" I said in her earlobe

"Yess i am nghhh oppa, fuck me harder" minju moan harder

"You're such a filthy slut, aren't you?" I taunted, my voice filled with lust. "You love having my cock inside you, don't you?"

She moaned in response, her body shaking with each powerful thrust. I could feel her pussy tightening around me, her orgasm building deep inside her.

"You're going to cum for me, aren't you?" I demanded, my voice stern. She nodded her head frantically, her eyes wide with desire.

I reached around and began to rub her clit, my cock still buried deep inside her. She let out a loud cry as she came, her pussy clenching around my cock.

"Now cum inside me, breed this pussy," she begged, her voice hoarse with desire. I couldn't resist, my balls tightening as I released my load deep inside her.

We lay there, our bodies entwined, as we caught our breath. I looked down at her, her eyes hazy with satisfaction.

"You're such a dirty little slut, aren't you?" I said, my voice filled with amusement. "Yes, I am master" She smiled, her eyes shining with pleasure.

[ddejavvu]

imagine reader always trying to make hotch flustered for the fun of it and then one day she is losing a lot of blood and hotch asks her what her type is and she answers with "you" nsjsja (also pre relationship)

(also also I loveeee everything you write for hotch it's always so good !!! and I actually cannot get enough🤭)

MWAH thank you!!! you're so sweet <3

--

You've been told that your comedic side comes out at the wrong times. You're a natural tease, your tongue moving faster than your head to razz whoever you're speaking to. Typically, it all blends together; it's just normal. But with Hotch? He's different.

He's different because he tries not to laugh at your jokes. He tries to keep his composure, thinks that maybe if he just ties his tie tighter that morning, it'll hold his face in a frown and a smile won't be able to escape. No matter how hard he tries to resist amusement, though, you know he feels it.

Perhaps that's why you're so harsh on him. Why you steal a seat next to him on the jet just to peer over his shoulder, asking if he's texting a hot date. Why you knock feet with him under the table, gasping dramatically and asking him if he's trying to play footsie with you. He acts tired of it, sighs and scoffs and grumbles but his cheeks go red every time, and you take it as a win.

What's less of a win is the bullet in your shoulder. It's hard to think about much else now, just the searing pain above your arm that makes you want to chop the limb off completely.

Your knees give out and you crumple to the concrete beneath you while your team moves in. Derek handles the arrest, JJ and Reid keep their weapons trained on the unsub just in case, and Hotch darts to your side.

"Hey," He huffs, tugging your knees out from under you so that you're sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall behind you, "Hey, keep your eyes open, okay? We can fix this, this isn't-" He presses his hand into your wound and you wince, "This isn't as bad as it could be."

"Yeah," You rasp, peering down at your red-stained shirt, "'Coulda been wearing my favorite top."

"Head back," Hotch commands, pointedly ignoring your attempt at a joke, "You're loosing blood fast. What's your type?"

Your head feels fuzzy, but you're not far gone enough to miss that opportunity. You muster a sleazy smile, blinking hazily at him, "Mm, you, boss."

"Shut-!" Hotch scoffs, almost a snort, scrunching his face in a poorly-withheld grin and knocking it against your good shoulder. He takes a moment to laugh, and you're sure the adrenaline coursing through his veins is the only reason you're getting such an open reaction from him.

"Shut up," He musters, a weak smile on his face as he lifts his head again, maintaining steady pressure on your wound, "You can't take anything seriously. You just got shot."

"With Cupid's arrow," You gush, and if you had the strength to lift your arm, you'd cup Aaron's cheek, "Thank you for saving me my sweet prince."

"Don't ever call me that again," Hotch lets out a sound that's somewhere between a groan and a laugh, "Careful, L/N, the medics aren't here yet. If you keep teasing me I might take you down."

"Do it!" You beg, your own laugh wheezy and weak as you manage to grab hold of his tie, "Please, sir, take me!"

[accioscarheadthings]

I been reading your ken sato stuff and love them🤭. Could you do one were it’s like curvy reader but they just have that milf aura to them but that’s just how they are. Like basically Ken kinda met his match idk how to say it😞. But ya keep up the beautiful work pooks ☺️

thank youu anon 💖💖 i hope i delivered what you asked for...

Tender Dominance

pairing: kenji sato x curvy!fem!reader

warning: none, fluff, soft moments, partial nudity(?), mentions of smut towards the end

summary: kenji with a curvy!fem!reader who has milf energy

masterlist !

⇏ kenji couldn't help but feel a surge of desire every time you entered a room. your mere presence seemed to ooze a magnetic energy that drew him in.

⇏ as you stood there, talking to a friend or adjusting your clothes, his eyes would follow your every move, tracking the subtle curves of your body. he'd find himself staring at the way your hair framed your face, or the way your lips curled into a smile as you laughed.

⇏ kenji was captivated by the way you moved and carried yourself. there was something about the way you commanded attention, the way you held yourself with such poise and grace, that he found utterly intoxicating.

kenji clung to you like a lifeline, his arms wrapped tightly around you. even the threat of being late couldn't break his hold. he needed this closeness, the warmth of your body, the scent of your skin, the rhythm of your heartbeat. it was a primal need, an inborn craving. your presence was a balm for his racing mind, soothing the anxieties that plagued him. with you, the world seemed quieter, simpler. the constant chatter in his head faded, replaced by a sense of peace and comfort. you cradled his face in your hands, gently tracing the contours of his cheeks and jaws. his eyes fluttered shut, a look of pure bliss washing over his features. with a soft smile on your lips, you began to cover his face with a series of tender kisses. you started on his forehead, then moved down to his temples, followed by the tip of his nose. finally, you arrived at his lips, where you lingered for a moment, savoring the softness of his mouth against yours.

his fingers curled around your waist, gently gripping the soft flesh there. he relished the feeling of your velvety body against his muscular one, the subtle give of your stomach making him want to pull you even closer. "kenji, aren't you late for a press meet?" you reminded him gently. his eyes snapped open, and he cursed under his breath, "crap, you're right," he muttered, reluctantly pulling away from you.

he sat up with a huff, raking a hand through his hair in frustration, "i can't believe i lost track of time again," you rolled your eyes as he regretted his lack of timekeeping skills, "of course you can't," you echoed, pulling the bedsheet up to cover your bare chest. as you watched him scramble to get ready, you couldn't help but feel a mix of amusement and affection for his scatterbrained nature. kenji quickly rose from the bed, stretching his limbs as he searched for his clothes, "damn it," he muttered under his breath, "i should have set an alarm," he flung open the wardrobe doors, grabbed the closest items of clothing he could find, and began pulling them on like a man possessed. his hands fumbled with the buttons and zippers, fingers trembling with frustration as they tangled in the fabric. you watched with a mix of amusement and concern as he frantically dressed, amused by his chaotic energy but concerned about his punctuality, "don't you think you should take a moment to calm down?" you offered teasingly, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips.

the bedsheet was draped around you, the sheer material hugging your curves in all the right places. the way it clung to your body, the thin fabric leaving your bare flesh tantalizingly visible.

kenji's eyes roamed over your form, taking in every inch of your exposed flesh as the sheer fabric clung to your body. his gaze lingered on the way the material bunched at your stomach, drawing attention to its soft, rounded shape. it curved up around your breasts, creating a delightful crevice that framed your cleavage, and then continued to hug your sternum, the taut material pressing against your skin. your hardened nipple was clearly visible through the translucent material, leaving little to the imagination. his hands itched to reach out and touch you, to run his palms over your curves and feel the warmth of your skin under his fingertips. but he knew he couldn't, not when he was running late. he immediately felt his cheeks flare up in a deep blush. he stammered, his words lodging in his throat as he found himself unable to look away. "eyes up here, big boy," you chuckled at his flustered state, enjoying the effect you were having on him.

kenji's heart thumped in his chest as he heard your words, his desire for you growing stronger with every passing moment. he fidgeted restlessly, his hands clenching at his sides as he fought the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch you. he bit his bottom lip, his eyes still glued to your seductive form, "you're killin' me, mama," he groaned, his voice hoarse with longing. you laughed, enjoying the effect you had on him, "and you're a sucker for it," you retorted, running a hand idly across your barely covered waist, the bedsheeet dipping between your legs and revealing a hint of your bare thigh. kenji's eyes followed the path of your hand, his mouth going dry as he watched the way the sheer fabric moved with your touch, "you drive me insane," he rasped, his voice low and husky with need, "fuckk," "is that a good thing or a bad thing?" you teased, leaning back on the bed and deliberately arching your body to give him a better view.

kenji's breath caught in his throat as he took in the enticing sight before him. his eyes raked over your form, taking in every curve and contour, "both," he answered, his voice hoarse and strained, "good because it makes me i feel lots of things. bad because I can't act on it right now," you chuckled, relishing the power you held over him in that moment, "poor baby," you purred, feigning sympathy, "so desperate, but so helpless." you rolled over, laying on your stomach, and gazed up at kenji, a coy smile playing on your lips. the bedsheet fell open slightly, revealing an irresistible glimpse of your bare skin through the sheer fabric. you beckoned him closer with one finger. kenji's eyes widened at the sight, his heart racing at the way the bedsheet now hung loosely off your form, the sheer fabric revealing just enough to drive him mad with desire. he swallowed hard, walking towards you, torn between his primal urges and his sense of duty, struggling to keep control.

you caught his hand gently, bringing it to your lips and showering each knuckle with a tender kiss. the gesture was so simple, yet it made his breath hitch. he watched you, entranced by the softness of your lips against his skin. you bit his knuckles playfully, gently nipping at them with your teeth as you gazed up at him. kenji's breath hitched at the sensation, a mix of surprise and pleasure coursing through him. he watched you, a smirk forming on his lips as he noticed the cheeky gleam in your eyes, "you're a naughty one," he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. he flexed his fingers slightly, testing the way your teeth pressed softly against his skin.

he squatted down on the floor, positioning himself in front of the bed. his hand slipped from your grasp to the back of your head and pulled you towards him, clashing your lips to his in a deep kiss. your mouths meld together, and your lips move in a passionate embrace. a low moan escaped from your throat, the sound muffled by the intensity of the kiss. kenji's hands immediately slid down to your hips, groping possessively, trying to feel as much of you as possible, his touch both demanding and tender. you pull away from the kiss with a soft gasp, meeting his gaze as you remind him, "you're late, honey," kenji whined in frustration, his eyes clouded with desire as he looked down at you, "i know, mama," he muttered, "but I can't help it when you're being so damn tempting," you roll your eyes at his response, knowing all too well the effect you had on him, "well, you better get untempted quick,"

⇏ those times, when the weight of public scrutiny and criticism felt too heavy to bear, he found himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he'd come home after a particularly tough day and seek you out, desperate for comfort and reassurance that he wasn't as bad as the media made him out to be.

kenji stumbled through the door, his expression a mix of sullenness and shame. he knew he had messed up, again, and the weight of media criticism was weighing heavily on his shoulders.

the media had jumped on the incident between kenji and his teammate, exaggerating the fight and painting him as a volatile and uncontrollable athlete. to make matters worse, his subsequent outburst at a news conference had earned him the label "wild athlete gone loose."

kenji was met by your disapproving gaze in the living room, your arms crossed in front of you. you fixed him with a steady glare, your finger pointing at him firmly, "i notice you've been keeping yourself busy," you said, turning off the television and giving him your undivided attention. he hung his head, feeling ashamed of his behaviour, "i'm sorry, babe," he murmured, his voice sheepish. he took your accusing hand into his own, gently covering the span of your fist with his. he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to your pointer finger.

"i snapped," he admitted, a hint of regret in his voice, "i know i shouldn't have, but i just couldn't hold it in any longer," his grip on your hand tightened in distress. your expression softened a little as you watched him, your stern demeanor faltering in the face of his remorse. your fingers shifted to intertwine with his. you knew kenji was impulsive, prone to letting his emotions get the best of him. but you also knew he was trying to change. you sighed, "you can't keep doing this," you chided, your voice firm but gentle, "every time you lash out, it reflects badly on you and on your team," you continued, "the media is already having a field day with your behavior. you need to learn to control your temper,"

kenji nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "i know," he muttered, squeezing your intertwined hands, "i just get so frustrated sometimes. the pressure, the expectations, it all builds up and i just can't take it anymore," he sat down on the couch, in front of you, his hands coming to rest automatically on your hips. with you still standing in front of him, he pulled you closer, his face nuzzling into your stomach as he inhaled deeply. the warmth of your body, your soft scent, and the familiar feel of your flesh under his touch immediately eased some of the tension in his body. you threaded your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp in soothing, circular motions. he closed his eyes, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he leaned into your touch. the feel of your fingers on his scalp was like a tonic, seeping right through his blood and easing the stress pumping through him. he buried his face deeper into your stomach, seeking comfort in your presence, "'m just so sick of everything," he groaned, looking up at you with his chin on your tummy, a pout on his adorable pink lips, "'m so tired, mama," you hugged his head closer to your body, kissing the top of his head, "i know, baby. it's okay. i got you,"

⇏ you could be doing something mundane as preparing dinner, the spatula in your hand, and kenji couldn't help but watch you intently.

⇏ the way you stood, your hip naturally resting on one side, had a certain allure to it. your confidence was captivating, and the casual grace of your movements was effortlessly attractive.

⇏ it wasn't just the action of cooking that caught his eye, but the way you carried yourself while doing it. every move you made was fluid and confident, radiating a subtle sensuality.

kenji was watching you in the kitchen, fascinated by how you skillfully wielded the spatula, your hand resting on your hip as you cooked.

suddenly, he found himself completely captivated by your look - something about the way you stood, hip cocked to one side, holding the spatula like a seasoned chef, drove him absolutely wild.

he couldn't help but approach you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzling his face into your neck, whispering, "you don't know what you do to me when you look like that,"

you leaned back lightly against him, sinking into the warmth of his body.

he pressed his body against yours, his hands resting on your hips as he inhaled deeply, taking in your scent, "you look damn amazing like that," he murmured, his lips grazing against your skin, "like a hot mama, cooking for her man."

"but i'm just cooking," you defended with a chuckle, his words shooting shivers down your spine, "does it turn you on?"

"yeah," he chuckled in your ear as he ran his hands up and down your sides. "there's something about watching you cook. i especially love the way you stand, hip cocked, like you know exactly what you're doing," he moved one hand up to your hair, gently tugging on it, "it's like you're tempting me or something," his lips found their way to your neck, starting to press hot kisses along the sensitive skin as he continued, "it makes me want to forget about the food and just have you instead. right here against the counter," you sputtered, mouthing wordlessly as you tried to ignore the effect he had on you, "k-kenji..." he chuckled against your neck, feeling your surprise, "you're speechless, huh?" he nipped at your skin playfully, "that's okay, mama. you don't need to speak. your body is doing all the talking for you,"

he ran his hands along your sides again, his touch growing more possessive, caressing the soft flesh of your tummy, "the way you stand, the way you move... it all screams 'take me, i'm yours',"

"mmhm, you can take me, but not now. i gotta cook. so now, you gotta behave," you responded by reaching your hand back to cradle the nape of his neck. you turned your face slightly to place a quick, sweet kiss on his cheek.

he let out a low hum of satisfaction as he felt your lips on his cheek, "now that's just not fair," he murmured, tightening his hold on you, "you can't do something hot like this and expect me to behave myself!"

⇏ kenji’s flirty ambiance was all about confidence and charisma. he’s not afraid to use his good looks and charm to get what he wants, and his smooth talk and easy-going attitude make him hard to resist.

⇏ but this demeanor faltered in your presence. becoming a tangled mess of nerves. his usual charm and wit are replaced by stutterings and stumbling over words, making him seem flustered and vulnerable around you. it’s as if his feelings for you overwhelm his usual charm and wit, leaving him speechless and off-balance.

kenji entered the kitchen, his eyes taking in every detail of your appearance as you sat on the counter, your legs swinging back and forth. a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he admiringly ran his gaze over your form, taking note of the way the white sundress clung to your curves and the way the hem swayed gently around your thighs. he let out a low hum of appreciation, his eyes trailing over your figure as he approached you, "mm, you look good, mama," he leaned over and sponged a loud kiss to your cheek, pulling an endearing smile from you.

kenji couldn't help but be enchanted by your charming smile. you pulled him closer, wrapping your legs around his hip, and tugged him toward you, causing him to stumble between your legs. he took in the sight of you, lounging on the counter with your hands resting behind you. you looked down at him, "thank you, baby," your voice was sultry and soothing. kenji's cocky smirk faded into a flustered boyish expression as your seductive presence and the way you took charge made his heart rate quicken, "y-you can't just... do that to me, babe..." "do what?" you tipped your head to the side with a questioning look, your hair falling in the same direction.

"this," he paused, "this thing you do... when you just... take control like that," he let out a shaky breath. his fingers trailed over the exposed part of your thigh, his expression shy and timid, "'s driving me crazy," you brought up a hand to cradle the side of his face, adoring how submissive and pliant he got around you. he leaned into your touch, his eyes half-lidding as he relishes the feeling of your palm against his skin. a shiver ran down his spine as you grasp his face, and he involuntarily lets out a soft, low hum of pleasure.

you traced your thumb just below the outline of his lower lip, cooing softly at him, "my pretty boy," kenji tilted his head closer, his lips instinctively following your thumb. he let out a shaky exhale, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through his body, ”more,” he muttered, his voice a mere whisper as he tried to press closer to your touch, "please mama," his hands made their way up to your curves and your stomach. he let out a satisfied hum, his fingers digging into your flesh as he gripped your love handles almost possessively, his palms cupping to mold them into the hollow of his palms, ”i love your body so much,” he muttered, his voice low and filled with reverence.

you looped a finger into his gold chain, leaning back and pulling him closer. your lips landed on his jawline in a smooch, the hand on his face caressing lovingly. he closed his eyes, relishing the tenderness of your touch. growing shy, he hid his face in your neck, making you poke fun at him with a chuckle.

⇏ when kenji calls you 'mama', his voice takes on a soft, sensual tone. he's not just saying the word; he's savoring it, the way it rolled off his tongue in that sweet and affectionate way. it portrayed how much love he holds for you in his heart.

kenji would come home to you with a bouquet of flowers, a proud smile on his face. he had personally picked them out for you, hoping to make you smile. "these are for you, mama," he said warmly, his eyes softening as you accepted them with an excited gasp.

⇏ sometimes, there's a hint of desire and longing in his tone like he's trying to show how much he craves you. a subtle but unmistakable hint of the depth of his need and want.

"oh f-fuck, you feel so good, mama," he groaned against your neck, bottoming out and grabbing a hand full of your ass. with both of you on your knees, your back pressed against the strong expanse of his chest. he wrapped his arm around your body, holding you snugly in place while he fucked his hips into yours ruthlessly. your mouth was wide open with each breath, sending puffs of air past your lips. drool dripped down your chin, creating a sight that was both sultry and captivating. he dragged his cock out of your sopping heat, groaning at the way your pussy sucked him in. your mixed arousal dribbled down your inner thigh with the force of each dip of his cock. "hnng, so perfect. so," thrust "fucking," thrust "beautiful,"

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - The Princess

Requested: yes

Prompt: 6) "I'm not religious, but I do think I've seen an angel

Warnings: none tbh, just more requests whilst I'm watching sprint quali

The sun was setting over the glamorous streets of Monaco, casting a golden glow over the iconic circuit as the Grand Prix came to a thrilling conclusion. Max Verstappen stood atop the podium, his heart pounding with the exhilaration of victory. As the crowd erupted in cheers, he couldn't shake the feeling of winning the prestigious race yet again. He waved down to the team before the glorious tune of the Dutch national anthem began playing.

Y/n, the Princess of Monaco, fiddled with the hem of her dress as she looked down to the huge crowd. Whilst she was royalty, crowds generally did seem to get to her. Her older brother took sick and had to cancel his plan to present the winner their trophy last minute. Hence, Miss Y/n was asked to. As the announcer declared the Princess to the crowd, Y/n stepped forward with grace, her regal presence commanding attention. She held the gleaming trophy in her hands, ready to present it to the triumphant driver. Max's gaze locked onto her, captivated by her beauty and poise. He felt a surge of something unfamiliar stirring within him as their eyes met.

Y/n smiled warmly as she handed Max the trophy, her eyes sparkling with admiration. "Congratulations, Max." She said, her voice soft and melodious. Max smirked, ignoring his heart skipping a beat at the sound of her voice. "Thank you, your Highness." He replied, unable to tear his gaze away from her. Max watched intently as the Princess walked away, applauding the dutchman before Max lifted the trophy and showcasing the newest clunk of metal he would add to his collection.

As the photographers clamored for their attention, Max and Y/n posed for the celebratory photos, their smiles bright and genuine. But as Lando Norris, another driver on the podium, playfully aimed his champagne bottle in their direction, Max instinctively shielded Y/n from the impending spray.

Y/n laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as Max turned his back to protect her. "Thank you, Max. I dont think this dress would pair well with chanpagne stains." She said, touched by his chivalry. "When someone like you is wearing the dress, I dont think anyone would care." Max replied, his voice tinged with sincerity. "And plus, I couldn't let you get soaked." Y/n beamed at the subtle compliment from the race winner.

As the champagne-fueled celebrations continued, Max found himself walking by Y/n's side, unable to resist the magnetic pull she had on him. "Oh, here. Let me help you." He offered her his arm, guiding her down the steps of the podium with care as she navigated the stairs in her heels. "Well aren't you just so lovely." Y/n smiled as her arm linked with his, leaning onto him. "You looked stunning up there." Max remarked, his eyes lingering on Y/n's radiant smile. "I'm not religious, but I do believe I've seen an angel today." Y/n blushed at his words, her cheeks flushing with color. "You're bold, arent you?" She asked, a tinge of amusement lacing her voice. "I'm a racing driver, your Highness. You need to be bold." Y/n rolled her eyes. "Of course, but I don't see any other drivers making moves on me, Mr Verstappen."

"Well, I think they see we are having a conversation. It would be rude to interrupt, no?" Max smiled. The pair stood for a moment,him towering over her as she simply looked between his eyes. "I'd like if we continued our conversation." Y/n whispered. "So would I. How about we return to this conversation later?" Usually, Y/n wouldn't like how suggestively the driver was being, but her gut trusted the man. She sighed. "Where do you suggest we have our little rendezvous?" She smiled. "How about dinner?" The dutchman suggested. Y/n arched a brow. "You know, for a Monaco race winner, your idea of a celebration is very boring." Max didn't really know what to say. It wasnt until Y/n leaned towards his ear.

"I'll be meeting you ag some stage tonight." She pulled away and winked. For the first time in a while, Max felt butterflies in his stomach as the Princess walked away with her security surrounding her, while he stood there wondering when he would bump into her next.

[tonixe]

goverment hooker..

a/n: I'm back again, there is no surprise. I'm feeling devious so I might post again, wowzers. Also, the sped-up version of the government hooker sound so fire, like it feels like I'm in one of those edits, anyways lemme stop rambling. I hope y'all enjoy, reblogs, and comments will be also appreciated.

warning: smut, penetrating, p in the v, unprotected sex, creampies. proofread (?)

pairing: Young!Coriolanus Snow x reader

word counter: 1.4k

What appeals to you to most men, maybe it was your cute antics, your siren eyes that attracted anyone toward you, or your body, sculpted with your delicate curves, and a perky bosom to match the appeal of your young face that can lull a man to sleep.

Or was it how you talked, deliberately making a slur of your words, with your ribboning voice, that can make anyone feel safe and warm with you. You fooled some powerful men, their hearts were already tainted and covered in greed, easy to control someone with their needs. You were in command of it, you made them your pawn, you played the cards, and made a charade of it.

Every time you talked or did anything, you automatically moved your chess piece forward never back. But..what were you doing in a low district as a 'prestigious' woman like yourself, doing in the slum like this. Well, these 'slums' they would call, these 'desperate streets' were your home, even though you won't admit with your own mouth, your words, it still was your home...

Trying to lift yourself from the slums called your homes, to a place where it is much safer than here, maybe to Capitol, but you would need a ticket in. They wouldn't allow just anyone, would they?

But here you were standing in a speakeasy, in a tight little red dress, with a lacey red lining. It was odd to see polished women like you in a bar in District 12, you looked like you were for the Capitol, but all things you see and hear aren't what it seemed. Drinking up on the cheap liquor they offered, looking at the scene in front of you with the happy and dancing couples on the floor, as live music played. The 'Covey' they called them, and the main star, Lucy Gray. Staring at the stage, as she sang into the mic, playing her guitar.

She was familiar to you, the only reference you saw was when she was fighting in the Hunger Games, it was a surprise seeing her still living, breathing, and standing up there, but needless to say, she was still good at what she did. You waving your body to the relaxing music, fixing yourself on the stool, swaying to the music. "What is a lady like you sitting in here" You turned your head to the gentleman talking to you, staring at him.

"I'm just sitting here, enjoying the show," You said, taking a sip of the alcoholic liquid, "How about you" you tilt your head to the side.

"Just enjoying my show" He gestured to your form, and you giggled at his compliment as he sat on the stool beside you. You really got to see the man that was next to you. He had a handsome face and a chiseled face, he wore a blue open-collar shirt and a blondish-white buzz cut, He seemed like one of those Peacekeepers lurking around the district. "Do you do this every girl you see?" You were amused by the blonde man who sat beside you. You wouldn't lie that he was indeed attractive in your eyes. Scanning his frame, his body, his face. "Not to every woman, but to the ones that look beautiful like you my dear" You couldn't help to smile at him, "━And your not bad-looking as well" You admitted, crossing your legs together. As you deliberately lean towards him, revealing a white lacey bra.

Pouting your lips together, "An attractive man indeed" giving him a sultry look, with your eyelids drooping down slightly. "So, what is your name, handsome" You took a sip from your drink, "Coriolanus.." He took your hand and kissed it, "Y/N" you smirked taking your hand gently away from him,

"Should we..take our business elsewhere for a private scene?" You whispered into his ear with a suggested look on your face.

Your hands were with his as you walked in the night street, your body already feeling hot. "Where are we going?" He was amused with your antics, as you batted your eyes at him, "A place, special" you gave him a smirk, your heels clicking down on the wet cement road. A neon sign coming into view, a little motel still opened near the bar. As you opened the door, walking down the lobby of the motel, the clerk managing the reception, "A room for one" The clerk nodded his head, and gave you the keys, "room 9" He said, as you walked away with his hand with yours. Your hips sway sensually, your heels stepping into the room and opening it.

Turning yourself on your heels, stepping closer to the man, "So..what are we going to do?" You pouted, your eyes dilating feeling the feeling of being aroused.

Feeling his hands on your lower bottom, as you hoof your legs around his hips, wrapping your arms around his neck, as you both leaned into a kiss, feeling his hands groping your body. Feeling him moving, as he withdrew from you, your chest heaving. "You do know how to make a man crazy, don't you" He groaned, Feeling him putting your body onto the bed gently,

His body touching you recklessly, his hands going under your dress, slowly taking off your red lacey panties, discarding it on the floor. Biting your lip down in excitement, crossing your legs together covering yourself. Staring at him, taking off his pants and his boxers, feeling yourself getting aroused, as your cunt pulsed.

As his dick sunk into you, the pain writhing through your body, feeling the pain in your lower abdomen. Feeling your cheeks getting flushed, as you groaned in pain. His hips push into you, slowly before increasing his pace.

The bed rocked with your back on the bed, your skirt flipped and your legs being held up with his arms. Your sinful moans came out of your lips, his cock splitting your open, as you bit your lip down. His hands massaging your waist down, "F-fuck" stuttering out of your lips, your lipstick already messed up, smeared on your cheeks.

Your skin felt sticky, your lacey dress sticking onto your skin. "C-corio—" You were cut off from his hips smacking into your pelvis, your hands gripping on the sheet, holding down for support, leaning back in pleasure and relief, feeling a rush of pleasure.

Your slick lubricating his dick, makes him slip inside you easier. Your face burning up, fixing your legs on his around his waist. Your cunt clenching down around him making him groan in your ear. Feeling lips and your crashing into each other, into a hungry kiss. His tongue abused your mouth, making you moan against him, before you withdrew for air, your chest heaving, up and down.

Feeling his cock reaching to your cervix, "Hmm" You whined, your eyelids getting droopy in the process, feeling his slender fingers rubbing the nub of your clit, your legs wrapping around his waist tighter, "Corio, I'm sensitive" You whined, his hips grinding onto yours, with his unrelenting pace, arching your back. His hands on your hips tilting up, plummeting into you.

"Don't be greedy, darling" He asserted, harshly rubbing on your clit, making you scream in bliss. His body leaning toward you, his dick still throbbing inside of you, making you go crazy. His mouth sucked onto your flesh, as the blooming mark left your neck.

Your body getting overstimulated, as your body trembled, skin prickling and your cunt dripping out.

Feeling a wave crashing down on you, clenching down around his cock. The pace of his hips getting slower, feeling his hands on your waist, gripping down making you wince. "I'm close" He groaned into your ear. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and your legs, "Inside" you mewled, feeling his hips stuttering against yours. His dick pulsed inside of you, as he thrust into you one more last time, painting your walls white, as your cunt fluttered around him. Your body feeling tired.

Falling down on the bed. Feeling his warm essence leaking out of you, feeling himself still inside you. "Don't leave...please" You whimpered, feeling his soft lips on your lips, before he withdrew, looking at him, pursing your lips gently. His hands lift your chin up, "I have to.." He looked at your lips, scanning your face. Taking your appearance from your smeared lipstick to your ruined makeup, before he drew you into another kiss, a longer, more passionate one. For the first time feeling your heart swell with a man you slept with once at a bar, "Please.." you said, breathlessly.

"I'll be back" he gently traced the shape of your lips with his finger, his voice was tender to your ears, lulling you to an endless abyss. As drowsiness took over your body, your eyes shut and closed.

[aixeko]

⋆ “ SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY ” ⋆

| Starring | Cowboy!Arlecchino x Aristocrat!Reader

| Setting | Wild west AU

| Scenario |  [ DRABBLE ] SMUT! Porn no plot. Arle has a cock and tongue piercing. Brat reader and brat tamer Arle. Power dynamic. Semi-public sex + Nearly getting caught. ROUGH sex. Penetration. Degradation. This is just filthy asf. Fully consensual of course. AFAB reader + Usage of feminine pet names and pronouns. OOC Arle? Idk.

► RADIO CHANNEL [Author note]

× First time ever writing smut uhhh yeah, I’m so sorry this is so bad.. 2/4 drabble for Arle birthday. × I had to cut it short too due to having a busy schedule, maybe if this get enough attention then I can maybe expand on the ideas I had and have for it 😭

[ Word count: 1730 ] | Art credit: Stumkek_pics / 37396536718l on Twitter

The saloon storeroom erupts in chaos as Arlecchino slams you against its wooden wall, causing barrels to scatter across the floor in place of your body. Sweat rolls down your temple, followed by disorientation and breathlessness at the harsh act. Compared to her usual cool composure, this intense change in mannerism makes the very essence of your soul feel as though it has been ripped apart and exposed just for her predatory gaze to ravish in.

With a single, generously tattooed colossal hand, she grips both of your wrists, immobilizing them completely above your head. Helpless now, you are at her absolute wildest mercy, unable to move or resist the overwhelming force she exhibits.

Despite the large ferocity of power competency between the two of you, every ounce of your muscles can't help but race with oppressive lust behind tinted fears. Your breathing heightens as your eyes come within the proximity of hers; never have you seen eyes so infuriated with lecherousness. Just the mere sight of its savage sexual desire for you is enough to get your undergarments shamefully wet.

"Seducing me openly, then daring to snatch and wear my hat in the public eye, did you expect no repercussions?" Arlecchino leaned in dangerously close, her hot breath brushing against your ear as she continued. "How formalities work with your people is none of my business to pry into, but for a woman of nobility, especially a lady of your standing? Your etiquette is lacking greatly, sweetheart."

Somewhere in your dazedness, you still find enough courage to provoke the cowboy even further.

"For a cowboy hired to protect me, you are facile to prick."

The ghastly remark is pathetically laughable but unfazed; Arlecchino chooses to indulge in this little charade of yours, her confidence unshaken by your feeble act. With a free hand, she maneuvers her hand under your knee, lifting it up and wrapping it around her waist. Now, in between your legs, she presses her growing bulge against you, making sure to roll her hip for you to feel the full extent of it. At the feeling of the enormous monster, you cannot help but whimper.

"Talk about facile; look at yourself, princess. I barely touched you, and you're already this filthy for me. Not as almighty as you ought to be. Pathetic, aren't you, love?"

You turn away, eyes shutting; a hiss of pleasure escapes at the feeling of her against your throbbing, clothed clitoral. Releasing your knee, Arlecchino's hand finds your cheek, redirecting your face to meet hers once more.

"Look at me, darling."

Timidly, your eyelids lift. For a moment, you can see her hardened gaze soften ever so slightly.

"Safeword," Arlecchino commands, brooking no room for arguments.

The edge of your lip twitches upward in a smirk; in spite of her rough exterior, the cowboy's hidden tender nature still slips through in its own ways. You know she's itching to completely fuck you over, and yet the woman still has the attentiveness for your comfort.

"Such a puppy... Let's see—crimson eyes for stop."

An amused scoff releases from Arlecchino's lips; to dare act so cocky as to even insult her by calling her 'puppy' even with the clear disadvantage is praisable.

Arlecchino let go of your hands, which effectively left you in a confused state. You fully expected her to go rough with you again on the spot. You watched her intently, anxious for her next move. She inched away slightly and unbuckled her belt, her eyes trained on you as she did so.

"Hands out, doll."

The moment your hands are bound, the aggressiveness once present in the air returns in full force, leaving no room for adjustment. Her lips crash into yours, her pierced tongue darting between them in frantic motion, as if she has been forced into famishment for centuries. You gasp, unwittingly granting her entry with ease. The coldness of the metal-tipped tongue invading your warm mouth has your eyes rolling back in hungry pleasure. Meanwhile, her hands struggle in a battle against her zipper, showing how hastily she is moving.

"Hugh... wait—urgh," you slurred, struggling to speak with the little amount of room she was giving you. "Let..me help."

Fortunately, she caught your grasp amidst the mess of arousal, easing slightly away from you. You take rapid breaths, inhaling and exhaling the air that has been sucked lifelessly out of you by Arlecchino. Once you deem that your consciousness is stable enough, you slowly lower yourself to your knees. Your eyes gaze up at her, your tongue darting out as your mouth makes its way to her zipper. With your teeth, you pull it down, revealing the wet patch of her boxers. Arlecchino groans when your tongue makes contact with it, licking and sucking the outline. Your skillful navigation is enough to get her cock even harder and throbbing controllably; it is practically begging her to release it from confinement.

Arlecchino prides herself on being composed when faced with any situation, but something about you—something about the way your tongue dances against her rock-hard cock—the image of you sucking it and being filled with it has her imagination going beyond heaven's forgiveness.

She grips a handful of your hair and uses it to shove you down to the cold floor. Any clothing blocking her from your entrance is torn apart, leaving your bottom half completely bare for her to absolutely destroy and consume. Arlecchino pulls out her enormous size of a dick, instantly fisting it with a gratified exhale.

You stare in a brazen manner, drooling at the bulk leaking pre-cum and the mere thought of it trying to fit inside your smaller frame; no more do you care for your virtually nonexistent dignity. Arlecchino groans at your expression, fisting herself faster and making her way in between you. God, why does a rich brat like you have to be such a fucking sight to marvel at?

"What a slut," Arlecchino mumbles, her once-controlled speech, and movement losing to the affray of lust.

Her patience runs thin and evaporates into nothingness. In one swift motion, she bends your legs beside your head, folding you into a piledriver position as her arousal peaks at its fullness. Without warning, she thrusts forcefully, penetrating you with a single, ravenous stroke.

Your teeth sink into the flesh of your hand, stifling a loud moan. Tears well up and cascade as Arlecchino's relentless pounding intensifies without a sign of stopping. She bends you further, her pulsating member probing ever deeper. Your body shakes violently, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations. Your eyes find home at the back of your head in the intertwining of pleasure and pain, every thrust overstimulating your senses and sending shockwaves through the very core of your soul.

Arlecchino grumbled out incoherent words of satisfaction: The tightness of your gummy wall feels so goddamn good. How can she not lose herself in it?

Footsteps echo throughout the hallway of the saloon storeroom, shattering your erotic, fervent trance. Without delay, Arlecchino swiftly lifts you up, her member still heavily gaping at you all the while, as she hides both of you behind stacked barrels.

Your hearts race at the prospect of getting caught with her ball deep in you, in an aroused or frightened way you couldn't place your finger on it.

"Say, have you seen Father at all today?" A familiar young adult male voice comes through, one that you remember goes by the name of 'Lyney,' and decrypting from his questioning tone, he isn't alone.

"Mn... no, but... I think I saw her with that aristocrat earlier," another young, softer male voice answered the previous one's question.

Your breath hitches as you feel Arlecchino begin steadily dicking you again, building up the lost momentum without care. Arching upward, you clutch the back of Arlecchino's shirt, all the while biting into her neck to muffle the sound of your moans.

If at any given moment the boys decided to turn their backs, this little affair of yours would be easily exposed to their unfortunate sighting.

But you can't; you're so close—so, so close. You feel heaven in your eyes and your body as your head clouds with nothing more than blank whiteness.

Between gasps of inaudible, long, low sounds of sexual pleasure, you babble on about the closeness of your ecstasy. "I'm almost there," you breathe, her name half-forming: "Arle—"

Arlecchino suddenly withdraws, leaving only her tip to linger within you, tantalizing you by prolonging your climax. Then a formidable thrust from her hip surges forward. She plunges deep, her cock once more ball-deep, filling you completely. Her aim is precise and calculated because it strikes exactly at your g-spot, inflaming your core. With that perfect amount of force, your pent-up frustration unleashes in a paradisiacal orgasm.

"Huh, what is that sound?" Lyney's voice once again vibrated through the room.

Arlecchino seems indifferent to the fact that she could be caught fucking a noblewoman by her children. You share none of her collectiveness, cursing in panic after you calmed down slightly from your climax.

A young adult woman's call sounds through the corridor. "Lyney, Freminet? Where are you guys?" The boys' ears perk up, drawn to her searching voice. Their focus shifts from the strange sound that they heard to her distant one.

"In the storeroom! We're coming, Lynette!"

Hearing the sound of their retreating footsteps, you let out a breath of relief, the tension in your body loosing, or at least the most it can, before remembering that Arlecchino is still yet to finish her business with you.

Arlecchino forces you to stand upright; you may have reached your peak, but she has yet to have her ejaculation, and she is clearly frustrated, as evidenced by the way her eyebrows are furrowed, her darkened eyes, and the way her member is still pulsing with unsatisfied urgency. You brace yourself, knowing her restraint won't last long against the mounting pressure of her impending release.

"Lift your hip for me, sugar."

How you will cover up your messy appearance and the bruises and love marks she is going to leave on you is a problem for your future self to suffer through because right now the world is nothing more than a soundless void, and the only thing that matters right now is the way she feels around you.

[abiatackerman]

Healing touches

The sound of the raindrops hitting the window glass and the soft scent of wet soil is creating a peaceful atmosphere in Levi's room. But neither Levi's mind or body is feeling peaceful. It's just the opposite.

Levi hates rain. He hates it because it creates mess, because it makes an expedition more disastrous, because he lost Furlan and Isabel because of it.

Now he hates it more because he has caught a damn flu because of it!

Levi's not the type who gets ill, he's the strongest soldier. But when he had to supervise the costly equipment of the survey corps being delivered by the government for 4 hours straight, under the rain, in a completely drenched state... He unexpectedly has gotten ill.

Cursing at the rain, he tosses over his bed. His body is burning. He can't even lay still because the mattress under him gets hot by his temperature which is making him feel more uncomfortable. His head is aching, body is feeling weaker and unwell than he ever felt before.

But sadly no one has noticed his severely feverish state. He's glad. He doesn't want anyone to notice anyway. He hates to show his vulnerability.

"Levi? May I come in?"

A gentle voice calls his name and then asks him in a more polite tone which is carrying affection and worries in it.

He's scared of this voice, of the owner of this voice. Scared of you, who never fails to enter his thoughts, makes his hormones go crazy and even changes his behaviour too. He gets more open, more vulnerable, more friendly, most importantly more possessive around the damn woman.

He hates you. Hates you for making him fall for you.

He gets up from the bed after another knock and curses as the cold air hits his body. He flimsily walks towards the door and opens it.

"Hey, you ok?"

Before he can even say anything, you ask. Then to Levi's utter surprise you place a hand on his forehead with worry. You flinch.

"Well, you're definitely not."

"You're a pain in the ass."

He grumbles, his voice raspy. You push the door open and enter his room. He looks at you with disbelief. How can he not? You're a woman and you're entering a man's private room without any care? The audacity!

"Well... I noticed you're not in your office. You rarely come to your room, you even sleep in the chair of your office. So I thought you might be sick since you worked in a wet state for a long time and it seems like I'm right."

You say as you look at him softly. Levi scoffs though he's happy knowing that you care for him. That you noticed he's not well.

"Why are you even bothering?

Hiding his happiness, he speaks in an annoyed tone. You ignore his complaint and reply in a commanding voice.

"You're gonna lay down on your bed with nothing but underwear and you'll keep this door open for me until I return. If you're not gonna listen to me I'll let the whole survey corps... No, the whole city know that the strongest soldier got ill due to silly rainfall."

You say and leave his room making Levi sigh. He smiles softly because your commanding behaviour always turns him on. He pulls his shirt off and hisses due to the cold weather. He doesn't take his trouser off though.

You return to his room with some medicine, a bowl of warm water and a piece of cloth. You hand him the medicine as you sit on his bed and dip the cloth into the bowl of the warm water. As you remove the blanket from his body, the scares of his chest gets revealed. Each mark tells a story. A battle he won, a life he saved. But now in this quiet room, he is just a man, vulnerable and feverish.

As the damp cloth touches his skin, he hisses. Because of the comfort of your touch, because of sensation.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

He asks in a tense voice as you roll your eyes.

"Absolutely, like I don't want to sleep instead of serving a grumpy old man who refuses to take my care. Whatever, let's discuss your fear of ginger tea."

You reply in a sarcastic tone, your touch gentle as you wipe his chest. He scowls, but there is a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"It tastes like...."

"Shit, yes. Rich for the complaint coming from a man who takes tea five times a day. But it’s effective."

You finish.

"Anyways. It's effective. For the fever though, not for your grumpiness."

You say as you dip the cloth again and dap it on his abs, unable to hide the little pinkish blush from your face. Your hands are pressing and lingering on his skin more than necessary, to feel his strong muscles. Levi can't hold back a slight smirk, his body is already healing by your affectionate and caring touches. He keeps looking at you with a soft gaze filled with love as you forcefully tug his body's extreme temperature with every single touch. He smiles a little wider as he decides to reply again.

"First of all I don't drink ginger tea five times a day. I drink plain tea. Also I'm not grumpy. I'm..."

"Charmingly irritable?"

You reply immediately like you were waiting for him to say it. He huffs with amusement.

"Exactly. And you're an annoying persistent brat."

He speaks with affection as he touches your thigh over your clothes which is resting right beside his abdomen. You dip the cloth again, ignoring his touch.

"You're the strongest. A little flu won't defeat you."

You say softly and lean on him as you place the cloth on his forehead. You smile as you cup his left cheek, your thumb caressing his cheek. Another palm is wrapped around his neck, trying to suck his high temperature. He closes his eyes, his body completely relaxed.

"You're different, Not like the others."

He speaks in a soft voice tone, which he uses only with you. You chuckle.

"How so?"

You ask softly as you remove your hand from his cheek and press the back of the hand on his burning closed eyes.

"You care too much. It's annoying."

He replies, his hand still resting on your thigh. Not with a sexual intention, he's just touching you. Just to feel you. You smile as you lean closer to his face, you breath hitting his face.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

You speak as you notice Levi taking a deep breath. His eyes are still covered with the back of your hand as he tilts his head up a little, to reach you.

"You shouldn't."

Just as he mumbles, you softly press your lips against his, caressing his warm lips with yours, Tenderly and softly, with love.

"Stubborn woman, You're going to be the death of me."

Levi says as you remove your hand and lips from his face and look at you. You chuckle as you dip the cloth again.

"Only if you keep refusing my care. Now try to sleep. I'll stay, don't worry."

You say as you notice his tired state. He doesn't argue. He scoots closer to you, closing his eyes. His one hand wraps around your waist as he speaks in a low voice.

"Thank you, doll."

A/N: I got completely drenched by the heavy rainfall, on my way home from college. I had an umbrella but the rain was so heavy and the wind was so sharp that the umbrella couldn't save me. Now, I'm in my room, sitting by the window, watching the raindrops falling. Somehow the idea hit me and I quickly wrote a oneshot. Hope you all are gonna love it.

[jeannineee]

coming up lavender, part three

cassian x reader x azriel

part one part two

author’s note: part three!!! comment to be added to taglist <3

summary: reader tries to hone her abilities. cassian is down bad. azriel is too, but he acts like azriel.

warnings: suggestiveness!! this is an 18+ series.

“I can’t do it.”

Scowl, rise to your feet. Glare at Rhysand, picture of indifference, if not a little amused.

“You’ve been trying for all of thirty minutes. You’ll have to work at it.”

Cross your arms over your chest, avoid his gaze as you make your way across the room to pour a glass of water. "My power isn't summoned on command. It surfaces when I feel any strong emotion. I learned that a long time ago."

Rhys sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I think you're wrong. I think you're scared--"

Your whirl on him, seething. "I am not scared."

He holds his hands up, body tense as his violet eyes dart between your face and your hands. You follow his eyes, face heating as you notice your fists, encased in swirls of purple energy.

Sigh and murmur an apology as you force your power away. "I didn't mean--"

"I know."

"I just--I know my power. I don't think it will work the way you want it to."

Rhys nods. "We'll try again tomorrow."

Offer him a grateful smile, toy with your thumbs as you gather what little courage remains within you. "Can I--will I be able to leave the House soon?"

Rhys pauses in the doorway. "You haven't made much progress. It's been almost three weeks."

"I know that," you reply, picking nervously at your nails. "I just--I need out."

He ponders, remaining still for so long you almost consider relenting.

"I'll permit you to explore the city."

Your heart leaps out of your chest. "Thank you--"

"But you will need an escort. Myself or my inner circle. Whoever is available any time you want to leave."

Bite the inside of your cheek. "I'm not dangerous, Rhysand."

"You are. More than you know. But I'm not requiring you to have an escort solely because of that."

"Then why?"

"If our enemies knew of your power, they would stop at nothing to take it."

Take you, is the part he didn't say aloud.

"I don't understand."

"My inner circle are having dinner at my townhouse tomorrow night. We'll explain everything to you then," Rhys pauses, as if having a silent conversation with himself--no, with someone else. "For now, enjoy Velaris. My home is yours."

~~~

"You're my escort?"

Cassian sports a shit-eating grin as he approaches you. "Sure am. Who better to show you around?"

Close your eyes and sigh. "Fine." You step forward, place your hand on his bicep. Try not to notice how large it is. When you don't notice a change in the environment, your eyes open again, to be met with a confused Cassian.

"I'm more than happy to let you touch me, but I am curious as to why...?"

Groan and drop your hand. "Aren't we supposed to winnow?"

"Winnow?" Cassian barks a laugh. "No. I can't winnow. We're flying."

"We're what?"

"You heard me, sweetheart."

Glance down to the city. The very far away city. A couple thousand feet below. "I don't like heights."

"That's tough," Cassian says from behind you. "But it's flying, or climbing down ten thousand steps."

Loose a shaky breath. "You better not drop me."

A wide grin. "Didn't you feel my arm? I could bench press you for hours and not get tired."

Your cheeks flush. "Let's just get on with it. We don't have all day."

A chuckle from Cassian, and he places one arm behind your knees, the other behind your back, lifting you with ease. "Bossy. I like it."

He doesn't give you the dignity of a response before launching into the air. You bury your face in his chest on instinct, noting the way the wind whistles in your ears. The air is chill enough that you find yourself grateful for his warmth, trying ever-so-subtly to lean into his touch.

"Cold?" Cassian questions, grip tightening a bit.

So much for subtle.

"Just a little."

"You should look."

"Absolutely not."

Cassian scoffs. "I won't drop you. You're safe. Just look."

You slowly, very slowly turn your head, audibly gasping as you take in the view around you. Snow-capped mountains in the distance, a winding river leading into the sea, surrounded by countless ships and houses and people. So many people. "Oh, wow."

"I know," Cassian's breath fans against your ear, and you turn, only to find him staring at you, rather than the view.

Clear your throat as your face burns, remnants of that strange ache in your chest returning as you ask, "You've lived here your whole life--in Velaris?"

"Mostly. I've spent plenty of time in Illyria, though."

"I've heard it's brutal."

Cassian nods. "Not so different from your Court of Nightmares."

You study each other for a moment; some sort of unspoken understanding passing between you, before forcing your attention back to the scenic view; stomach dropping a bit as Cassian begins descending.

~~~

“That’s the best food I’ve had in a while,” you tell Cassian as you sit back in your chair, so full you’re fairly certain your stomach will burst.

Cassian hums and nods; speaking over a mouthful of food. “Told you so. Nothing like it.”

You sigh, tilt your head back. Grateful for the outdoor table; the sun in your face, warming your skin. Grateful for the salt-kissed air filling your lungs. Grateful for things you never thought you’d have.

“Doing alright?”

Cassian’s voice startles you from your thoughts, and you sit up, smiling sheepishly. “Yeah. Just contemplating.”

He arches a brow, silently urging you to continue.

“I never had…anything like this, back…” you swallow thickly, words caught in your throat, “…back home, if you can call it that. This is all new to me.” Fold your hands in your lap and pick at your nails; avert your eyes. "Nature, people, community...”

The silence stretches long enough that you begin to wonder if you've said too much.

"I slept outside, the first several years of my childhood. Not even in a tent. Outside. On the ground."

You meet his eyes, feeling a pull so strong you lose your breath. "I--I'm so sorry."

Cassian smiles halfheartedly, and continues, "I didn't know true kindness until I met Rhys. He was an ass, but the first real friend I had. My point is--I understand, how everything feels foreign."

“Like I don’t belong,” you mutter quietly.

“That will go away too, with time,” he says, before rising from his chair and holding a hand out to you. “If you’re ready, we can head back to the House.”

Slowly take his calloused hand, ignoring the flutter in your chest as you do so. “Lead the way.”

~~~

“Careful,” Cassian murmurs gently as he helps you settle after landing back at the House of Wind. “Didn’t realize you were so clumsy.”

Roll your eyes. “We’ve been walking around all day. My feet are bound to hurt.”

Cassian grins. “I’d be more than happy to carry you.”

You laugh, unamused as you turn on your heel. “Unnecessary, but thank—”

You trip over your own foot and curse, prepared to eat the floor, but Cassian grabs you, settling you upright. You lock eyes, face burning with embarrassment.

Cassian arches a brow. “You were saying…?”

“I was saying…” breath catches as you realize his hands are still on your waist, but you make no move to stop him. “I was saying that carrying me is unnecessary, though i’m sure you’d jump at the opportunity to show off—”

This time, you’re cut off by his lips pressing against yours. You tense at first in shock, but melt into him as though you’d kissed him a thousand times before. Stifle a whimper as his tongue dances with yours, still tasting of wine.

You aren’t sure how much time has passed when Cassian pulls away. His eyes search yours, almost worried. “Are you okay? I probably should have asked first—I didn’t think—”

You smile. “I’m fine. More than.”

~~~

That night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to cease your racing thoughts. Those of your powers, of the consequences of leaving the Hewn City. But the main concern that won’t leave you:

Who are the Night Court’s enemies, and why were you relevant to them?

See a shadow out of the corner of your eye, and scoff as you sit up. It swirls around the foot of your bed; observing.

“Tell your master he doesn’t need to spy on me. No evil plots coming from me.”

The shadow remains. In your head, you hear a question: Are you alright?

“I’m fine. Get out of my head.”

The shadow leaves your room, though you still have the feeling of being watched. Surprisingly, it gives you some level of comfort. But as you near the brink of sleep, you can’t rid yourself of the impending doom; the sense that the worst is yet to come.

taglist: @cleverzonkwombatsludge @marina468 @cherry-cin @sevikas-whore @tequilya @nickishadow139 @thatacotargirl @skylarkalchemist @lilah-asteria @acourtofbatboydreams @esposadomd @aelincaddel @sharknutz @pruvii

[cosmerelists]

Stormlight Characters Switch Roles for a Day

As request by anon. :) [Some spoilers for Stormlight! Includes some roles people only have in later books]

It's important to me for you all to know that these combos were generated by a random number generator. Here is how fate (=random number generator) has decreed that Stormlight characters will be swapped around! How will they do in their new job?

1. Renarin takes on Jasnah's role as Queen of Alethkar

Renarin: [smiling beatifically] Rlain: You're stressed out of your mind, aren't you? Renarin (calmly): I am about to vibrate out of my skin, yeah. Rlain: Does it help that we already have three preemptive surrenders from nations who "don't want to risk angering the all-seeing prophetic god-king of Alethkar"? Renarin: What?! Rlain: Just kidding. Rlain: ...There's only been one surrender so far. Renarin: ... Renarin: I didn't even SAY anything!

2. Navani takes on Kaladin's role as leader of Bridge 4

Navani (Hour 1): I'm not a commander, of course. I'll stay out of the way and allow Teft and the other lieutenants to handle things. Navani (Hour 4): I'm not a commander, of course, but I have suggested a few small improvements. If Teft and the other lieutenants can make them work, then that's great. Navani (Hour 8): With the help of Teft and the other lieutenants, we have created nineteen new devices that have improved the efficiency of Bridge 4 by 35%. I'm so glad I can support them in some small way. Navani (Hour 12): Wait a second...I'm actually amazing at this.

3. Shallan takes on Adolin's role as duelist

Jakamov stands in the dueling ring, frozen. The 7 Shallans surround him, taunting him. One of them seems to know all of his secrets. One of them wears the face of an old girlfriend whom he ghosted. One of them has his mother's frown--only her frown. All of them have swords. All of them are watching him. Shallan (actually up in the stands): I'm so great at this, actually. Adolin: Shallan...he's crying.

4. Dalinar takes on Shallan's role as Ghostblood spy

Dalinar tramps into a seedy bar. Everyone takes one look at him and immediately they all file out. He is alone. Dalinar: ... Dalinar: And I wore a fake mustache and everything.

5. Teft takes on Dalinar's role as leader of Urithiru

Teft: Kal...congratulations on becoming the leader of Urithiru. Kaladin: I'M PRETTY SURE THAT'S NOT HOW THIS WORKS

6. Szeth takes on Navani's role as artefabrian

Navani: Well...you've certainly been...busy. Szeth: I am physically incapable of not giving a role my all. Navani: So... Navani: ... Navani: They're all complicated instruments of horrible death, huh? Szeth: I like the one with the spring.

7. Sadeas takes on Szeth's role as the Assassin in White

Sadeas: Ialai...can you have your assassins kill all these men? Ialai: Already sent 'em out. Sadeas: I love you! Sadeas: Wow...this job was so easy and not emotionally taxing in the slightest.

8. Leshwi takes on Sadeas' role as betrayer of Dalinar

Leshwi: I feel like........I'm just going to fly down and stab him. Leshwi: Well, after I introduce myself of course. Leshwi: And allow him to summon his sword for an honorable duel. Lezian: You suck at betrayal. Leshwi: ...Thank you?

9. Rlain takes on Wit's role as the King's/Queen's Wit

Rlain: I see that you have chosen to wear yellow to this feast. Rlain: It was a good choice. It looks nice on you. Wit: I want to cry. Rlain: What? I said it to Amusement.

10. Wit takes on Rock's role as Bridge 4's cook

Wit: As a vegetarian whose morals are supernaturally enforced...I'm gonna introduce you all to a little something I call "Tofu." Rock: YOU'RE FIRED

11. Jasnah takes on Teft's role as Kaladin's lieutenant

Jasnah (holding an enormous notebook): I have some suggestions...Captain. Kaladin: M-My life is flashing before my eyes!

12. Adolin takes on Lirin's role as ultra-pacifist doctor

Adolin: Okay, but...dueling is pacifist, right? No one dies. Lirin: Play-violence is still violence! People get injured and it's so horrible and pointless! Adolin: What about fighting but, like, noble fighting? Lirin: D-Do you know what pacifist MEANS? Adolin: But my sword is my best friend! Lirin: ...every day the Almighty tests my patience.

13. Lirin takes on Renarin's role as Prophet of the Everstorm

Lirin: ...and that is how and why I know that something bad is coming, and why I think you need to prepare to save everyone. Dalinar: Wow...you just...said all that. To me. Directly. With details. Lirin: I understand that you may choose to execute me for blasphemy or whatever, but I couldn't sit back and allow people to die for my own comfort. Dalinar: What a mature and straightforward way to handle that!

14. Rock takes on Rlain's roll as "Parshendi" spy

Rock: Here are everyone's secrets! Rlain: I am...impressed. How did you get all this intelligence so quickly? Rock: People LOVE talking to the cook!

15. Kaladin takes on Leshwi's role as leader of shanay-im

Kaladin: So...you guys...can't die? Shanay-im guy: That is correct. Kaladin (tears welling up in his eyes): S-So...I can be commander of a squad where...no one ever dies? I-Is this happening? Shanay-im guy: However, we have to kill someone and take over their body to return. Kaladin: GOD FUCKING DAMMIT

[charlesslut16]

Hi, i love your writing, could you write something about jealous and angry sex with Charles? 💋

-new guy friend-

summary : you and charles were at a beach party and a guy flirted with you...

PAIRING : charles leclerc x fem!reader

WARNINGS : +18, smut, NSFW, dirty talk, fingering, p in v, badly translated french, curse words, public sex, jealous!charles, unprotected sex (be safe!)

note : i hope you like it! I'm watching f1 so i hope there will be no mistakes. Love you.

masterlist 

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You and charles were at a beach party, as he had some time of Formula One. Your friends were inside, while you were outside on the beach, enjoying your time alone together.

Before you went outside, charles played beer pong with his friends, while you were with Pierre, who introduced you to your new friend, René. You talked until charles came to you and you went outside.

The night air was cold and breezed through your whole body, you felt so relaxed as you sat between charles legs in the sandy wind, enjoying yourselves. He stroked your skin with his long fingers, the chill causing undeniable goosebumps.

You tried to ignore them as you nodded your head along encouragingly to your new friend's words, René's big hand came to your forearm as he spoke excitedly.

Usually this wouldn't have bothered charles, being more chill himself. But it was clear that this 'new friend of you' didn't give a single shit about your boundaries.

This new guy's hand kept finding you, grabbing you, tugging at you or making you laugh. And it drove charles mad. You were his girlfriend, you were here with him, and you would go home with him.

Charles couldn't help but glare at him. René didn't even notice, though. He only kept his eyes on you, which pushed Charles to being even more fucking bothered.

Charles' fingers grabbed at your thighs, and you brushed him off with a yelp. Your beautiful voice echoed in his mind. But you continued to give all your attention to whatever the jerk was saying.

"Ma cherie" Charles said in your ear. You knew that tone. He was warning you.  But you continued trying to give your attention to René, and Charles squeezed you tight to make his warning clear.

"Ne devrions-nous pas y aller maintenant?" Shouldn't we go now?

You and charles had rented a beach house just blocks away from the beach, the place comfortable and cozy. You wondered if he wanted to head home already because of the cold, breezy beach air.

"Already?" you asked, voice smooth. "Aren't you having fun? Rene was just telling us- "

"Yes already." He said annoyed, his voice husky. 

"Venir." He commanded softly, standing up. Come

"Sorry, mate, but me and y/n are heading home now." He simply stated towards the man in front of him, Rene's lip pulled down into a frown as he nodded his head. 

"Okay." He cleared his throat and added. "Nice meeting you guys."

Charles guided you upwards, his hand in yours as you rose to your feet. He finally met your eyes and didn't look all too pleased. You two walk hand in hand in silence towards the beach house, the only sound that filled your ears was the crash of waves.

"So-"

"Don't" Charles cut in. He didn't say it harshly, though, but there was a slight bite in his tone. Implying that he wasn't all too happy. He took a deep breath before glancing over at you.

"What am I going to do with you?"

"What do you mean, baby?" The innocence in our eyes made charles scoff, he squeezed your hand in his and pulled you up to the porch of your rented beach house.

"Don't play dumb with me." He led you towards the front door, but didn't stop to get his keys out of his jeans pocket. Instead, he backed you into the wall, his hands going to your hips.

"I don't usually get..." he sighed out, "Jealous." He lowered his eyes, he didn't want you to see the anger and disappointment in them.

"What? You had absolutely nothing to worry about."

"Oh?" Charles eyes twinkled with amusement, "You think I was worried? No. I didn't like him touching you. It fucking pisses me off. " He admitted, his voice raspy.

"Mais je n’étais pas inquiet. Il ne pourrait jamais te toucher comme je le fais. Le seul homme qui peut te toucher, c’est moi. Droite?" He squeezed your hips. But I wasn't worried. He could never touch you the way I do. The only man who can touch you is me. Right?

"Charles..." You breathed out, his name tasted so good on your tongue. "Montre-moi comment tu me touches alors." Show me how you touch me then.

Charles's head fell down to your shoulders as he chuckled, his hands brought your hips in closer to his. You could still hear the waves in the background along with his breathing.

"Vous toucher?" charles asked, one of his fingers slid down to the waistband of your red mini skirt, he peeled is back and then let go, slapped the material against your skin.  Touch you?

"Et comment devrais-je vous toucher?" He didn't lift his head, his words fell against the skin of your shoulder. "Si vous méritez même d'être touchée." And how should I touch you?  If you even deserve to be touched.

You slowly closed your eyes and tilted your head back as you felt Charles's big hand dip beneath your red mini skirt, his long fingers brushed against you so lightly.

"Baby..." you breathed out, "Only you can touch me like this."

"That's right." Charles said, lifted his head to take a look at you. Your head leaned against the wall, exposing your neck to him. He surged forward and kissed the expanse of your throat, you moaned, as you felt his lips suck on you.

"Tous les miens" He said quietly. "This is mine too." His fingers slide between your wet folds. "D’accord, princesse?" All mine.  Right, princess?

"Yes, Charles." you choked on your own words, as you felt his index finger play at your hole, teasing you so suddenly.

"Je détestais qu’il te touche. Je détestais la façon dont vous riez de ses blagues stupides. Et je détestais la façon dont il touchait ce qui m’appartenait." Charles's lip traveled all across your neck and collarbone.  I hated that he touched you. I hated how you laughed at his stupid jokes. And I hated how he touched what is mine.

"Dis-moi que tu n’appartiens qu’à moi. Dites-moi que vous ne répondez qu’à mon contact. Et dis-moi que tu ne seras jamais que mien." He suddenly demanded.  Tell me you only belong to me. Tell me that you only respond to my touch. And tell me that you will only ever be mine.

"Oh baby." You opened your eyes, but they rolled back, as he started pushing his fingers inside. "Oui...", you moan. "Qui." I do...  I do.

"You will only cum around my fingers, won't you? You will only ever cum on my cock, won't you?" He said, his tongue licked a strip up to your ear. 

"You'd only moan for me?"

"Qui, charles." You clenched hard around his fingers, as he started thrusting them deep into you, his long fingers, brushed against your special spot, that always got you to cum.

"Dis que tu es tout à moi, princesse." Say you're all mine, princess.

You bit back a loud moan, realized that you were outside and people were still walking around. "Je suis tout à toi."  You tried to whisper. "All yours." I'm all yours.  Bien à vous

"No." Charles halted his fingers, which made you groan out loudly. "Say it loudly."

You gulped, when your eyes met his, his gaze intensified, as he stared at you harshly. You moved your hips forward for some friction, but he stopped you from moving.

"Say you're mine." He repeated. You could hear the slight anger in his voice, you felt your heart skip a beat.

"Je suis tout à toi." You said with a grin. "Tous les vôtres alors s’il vous plaît"  You moved your hips desperately. All yours, so please...

"Brave fille" He managed to say between a few rough breaths. A third finger got added, as he began fucking you with them again. Your knees giving out on you, as you started to feel your orgasm approaching again.  Good girl.

You started to whimper, when he leaned forward and nibbled on your neck, his hands never quit. You felt the intense, wild, euphoric feeling of coming all around your jealous boyfriend's fingers.

"Only I can do this for you. I'm the only one who can make you come like this."

Then you fell into his arms, breathed out roughly, when he stroked your hair back. He then picked you up bridal style, took his keys out of his pockets, opened the door and walked into the beach house.

He then went into your shared bedroom, laid you on the bed and took off your shoes. You sat up straight, lust still in your eyes, as you waited for charles to come back, as he went out of the room.

"Ready for your second orgasm tonight?"

You only nodded as an answer, Charles came to the bed, while taking off his clothes until he stood in front of you, naked. He crawled on the bed and started taking your clothes off too.

In order not to talk about it, Charles pulled you down a little and pushed his cock in your pussy. You let out a loud moan, as you felt his big cock deep inside your pussy.

He started to ram his cock into you with a hard and steady pace. He was furious, but now he could release all his pent-up anger on you. 

"Rappelez-vous que je suis la seule à pouvoir vous baiser et vous faire jouir." Charles said, with a look that told you, that he fully meant it.  Remember, that I'm the only one who can fuck you and make you cum. 

As you felt your orgasm approaching, you signaled it to charles, who increased his pace in fucking you. And a minute later, you came with a loud moan. Soon after, Charles came deep inside your pussy.

"This is how it is supposed to be you are under me, me fucking you. You understand? You're all mine, and if I ever see you talk to this guy, you will face the consequences."

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

New year, new me?

Nah.

New year NEW CHARACTERRRRRR BITCHESSSSS

So anyway.

Those ABC Headcanons I did for Mihawk, Shanks, Sanji, and Zoro a few months ago when I first started this Tumblr. I'm doing one for Crocodaddy now. Needed to iron them out to write him later in a fanfiction I already have in-progress, and this helps.

This also means I'll be accepting requests for him tentatively (I know I'm way behind on ask requests as is, bear with me pls).

Also excuse me while I squeal about being able to create semi-transparent banners and shit now

A through Z

NSFW Headcanons

A — Afterglow (How are they have sex?)

He'll be sitting up against the pillows and headboard of your shared bed, striking up a cigar while you're still lying alongside him gasping for air.

Glancing down at you in your utterly spent and trembling state, smirking with the cigar between his teeth and pulling you up by your shoulder to recline back against his chest.

Not at all above taunting you about how utterly ruined you are.

"Oh, what's wrong? Was it too much?"

Chuckling when you tell him to go fuck himself as he leans over to pour himself and you a small glass of bourbon.

Leaning down to brush his lips and nibble at your neck, murmur in your ear while you take a sip from your glass, praising you with that same edge of almost cruel amusement.

"Such a good little fuck toy."

This is the most relaxed you're usually going to see him, and the most inclined toward cuddling up with you he's going to be.

B — Backrubs? (Do they like them? Like giving them?)

First time you come into his office and circle around behind his chair, he's going to be suspicious, probably even standoffish about it—until your hands are rubbing his neck and his shoulders.

"The hell do you think you're—......oh. Oh, that's...mmmm..."

You won't hear one single further complaint out of him after that.

He's not going to ask you to do it again—he's more likely to demand that you do, to send for you after a particularly long day so he can just lean back and let you work your magic on his stiff muscles.

If he returns the favor at any point, you can rest assured that it's not without an ulterior motive—he won't settle for having his hand on you without getting more out of it.

C — Cuddling (Do they enjoy cuddling a lot or only at certain moments?)

He's more likely to pull you against him or onto his lap in public than he is in private—he likes showing off his trophies, after all, and you're among his most prized possessions.

Gets off on making sure that everyone around knows that you're his, tugging you onto his knee with an arm curled possessively around your waist.

In private, he's still not going to shove you away if you lay back and drape yourself across his lap.

He might not say so, but he honestly loves it. He'll probably absently stroke your hair or brush his thumb across your cheek—but he's not as likely to initiate.

D — Dance (Are they good at it? Do they enjoy it?)

He's got his share of experience—being a filthy rich business magnate doesn't come without its share of formal to-dos, after all.

He's going to spend the majority of said fraternizations discussing business and making connections—but he can't and won't ever resist any opportunity that arises to show you off, either.

Whether you ask or not, at some point he's going to wrap his arm around you and curl his hook around your waist—pull you in close by your chin to speak against your lips.

"Let's show these low-lives what they're missing."

Lowering his hand down and squeezing your ass to tug you against him.

It's definitely more of a command than a question, and he's already smirking because he knows you aren't going to protest—at least not if you know what's good for you.

E — Extravagant Gestures (Things they do to make you feel loved)

"Love" is a strong word, and one that it's going to take a hell of a long time for him to actually admit out loud or really show.

He'll mostly show his appreciation in a material manner—buying you flowers, jewelry, clothes.

Anything you desire or he thinks you deserve, he's going to give you without any hesitation. He doesn't always have much time to spend, but he has more than enough money to spend, and he's going to.

It might seem like empty gestures on the surface, but showering you with gifts is his main mode of affection.

When he does have time to spend, however, he makes sure that his sole focus is on you and you alone, either flat out ignoring anyone that dares interrupt or putting them in their place on the spot.

He intends to ensure that his lover should never have to need or want for anything.

F — Fighting (How do they handle arguments/apologies?)

He's not apologizing. Doesn't matter if he's at fault or in the wrong, he's not going to acknowledge it.

He'll typically keep a cool head about it, even if you're shouting—but if you take a stab at his pride, things are probably going to escalate until you're not on speaking terms for a bit.

Closest thing to an apology you're going to get is him conveniently forgetting about the whole thing and you suddenly being showered with even more lavish gifts than normal, likely even accompanied by little handwritten sappy notes.

He'll also probably let it go entirely if you come back and apologize, but he's going to remain bitter about it for a while.

At least until he gets you alone later to bend you over and grudge-fuck your brains out until he's satisfied you've learned your lesson.

G — Getting Hot (What do they do turn turn you on, and vice versa?)

He stays busy enough that it tends to stray from his mind that physical intimacy an important part of a healthy romantic relationship.

On the rare occasion he isn’t busy, however, he's likely to have his hands and lips all over you—even if you're busy at the time yourself, intent on distracting you from your own priorities and enjoying you at his own whim.

Pulling you back against him by your waist while you're in the middle of some important business or personal call, pushing his hand down between your thighs, his voice a low murmur in your ear, conveying in great detail what he plans to do to you.

"Hang up the phone...unless you want them to hear me ruining you."

Pushing his hook under your chin to tilt your head back, giving his lips free roam of your neck and your jaw, trailing them slowly across every inch of your exposed skin.

The quickest way to get him riled up is to subtly do the same to him in a situation where he can't do anything about it.

To cup your hands around his ear while he's in the middle of some important business or social exchange and whisper all your dirtiest fantasies, forcing him to keep up a calm and professional demeanor in spite of his carnal desire for you.

He's going to act like it's annoying him, but you know better.

You know that he's going to be tearing your clothes off the second he manages to get you alone.

H — Heartache (How would they handle it if you broke up with them?)

He's used to courting his losses, so in the surface it's going to seem like he's unbothered, and anyone that suggests otherwise is going to get their head bitten off over it.

He's going to be more cruel, more impatient with his subordinates.

He's going to be a lot more likely to fly off the handle at anything that could be taken as a slight or insult.

He's going to be unfocused in his business dealings, delegating more work than usual to those below him.

He's going to engage in a great deal of debauchery and self-destructive behavior to push you from his mind—rebound sex, heavy gambling, heavy drinking, chain smoking.

He's going to spend sleepless nights glaring uo at the ceiling and white-knuckling a bottle of liquor, beating himself up over it in silence and solitude.

He's probably going to end up drunkenly den den mushi dialing you after a few weeks, slurring about how big a mistake you made and how much better off he is...and slurring about how big a mistake he made while begging you to come back.

Emotional availability isn’t one of his strong suits.

I — Intimacy (When are they intimate with you? And how often?)

Whenever he feels like it.

He could go a week without paying you much attention at all; then revert to shoving you against a wall or pulling you onto his lap and having you every time he catches sight of you.

Depends largely on his mood, which depends largely on other aspects of his life.

Unless he's incredibly busy or frustrated from stress, he isn’t likely to turn you away if you initiate.

Whether you're circling behind him to rub his shoulders or sitting yourself on his lap, he's likely to pull you closer and breathe you in, brush his lips to your neck and jaw, enjoying some much needed peace and solace in your closeness.

But he's still going to tease and belittle you about it, making sure you feel his lips curve into a smirk against your skin.

"What's the matter? Does my little girl need some attention?"

J — Joker (How do they make you laugh)

His sense of humor is typically cruel and comes at the expense of others.

Certified master at roasting—typically with deadpan delivery, maybe with a hint of a condescending smirk as he verbally destroys whoever has dared to cross him.

There might be a playful insult battle between you and him here and there—he's not going to do it to be outright hurtful, but if you call him an arrogant prick (a slur he frankly agrees with and gladly owns), he's going to put you in your place and chuckle at whatever you manage to throw back at him.

K — Kissing (How good? How often?)

Like other brands of physical affection, he's not going to initiate it very often.

Which is a bit of a shame, because he's incredibly good at it—if more than a bit of a tease.

Slow and sensual, curling his hand around the back of your head, his teeth grazing against your bottom lip, tongue brushing against yours.

Smirking and drawing away when you moan to tease you in a low murmur.

"Oh...? Did you want more, sweetheart?"

Grasping your waist and pulling you against him aggressively to deepen the kiss, devouring your lips possessively with a low growl.

No qualms at all about doing so in public—he greatly enjoys the thrill of all those judgmental and envious eyes, of showing others what they're missing out on.

L — Lay down (How do they sleep with you? Are they a cuddler or do they prefer their space?)

His pride won't allow him to say so aloud, but he cannot sleep without you.

There's always the slightest subconscious worry, eating away at the back of his mind, that he doesn't do enough for you, that he isn’t there enough for you, a worry that really only surfaces in the minutes and hours before sleep when he has no choice but to be alone with his own thoughts.

He'll lay awake until you're there with him so he can pull you against his side, lower his head over yours and breathe in your scent, relaxing into the comfort of your warmth.

This is when he's most vulnerable, most affectionate, when he's anything even close to self-conscious.

When he might brush his lips to your temple and praise you in a low murmur without any expectation of you reciprocating.

"Mmm...so warm....."

He'll slip his arm under you, pull you against him, and refuse to release you until morning.

M — Making babies (Do they want to settle down and have kids?)

HAHAHAHAHAHA no

No, absolutely not.

This really isn’t negotiable. He has no interest in having children at all. Doesn't remotely have the patience necessary and doesn't wish to change his lifestyle to fit around parenthood.

N — Nervous? (How confident are they when it comes to romance?)

Confident really isn’t the word—the man's arrogance is unrivaled.

He's filthy rich, he has unrivaled social standing, the physique of a living god, he knows he could have damned near any woman he wants. Why the hell would he be worried?

His only concern is the matter of trust—that letting anyone get too close could be detrimental to his status. You could blackmail him, you could entice him too deeply and take him for all he's worth, so he might keep you ag arm's length for a while.

Despite his confidence, he also won't tolerate any other men hitting on you—you're his, and he doesn't share his things.

O — Oral Fixation (Giving or receiving? And how good are they?)

Far more into receiving.

Very into pulling out abruptly after fucking you relentlessly and forcing his cock down your throat while you're still gasping for air, reveling in the sight of your make-up smeared over your flushed face and the sound of you gagging on it.

"Yeah, that's it, baby—take every fucking inch—"

But he does love making you beg, and giving isn’t off the table if you satisfy him adequately and ask very nicely.

Just as much as he loves ruining you—so he's going to hold you down by your hip, isn’t going to stop until you're screaming, gasping, hyperventilating from overstimulation, limp and trembling and barely conscious in his grasp.

P — Pet Peeves (Things they don't like in a partner)

Excessive neediness is going to irritate the hell out of him.

He doesn't have the time or the patience to constantly offer his attention and reassurance, so he strongly prefers a confident and independent lover.

Absolutely can't stand you flirting with other men to make him jealous.

It might get his attention, but not in a good way.

He's already iffy about trust, and all that will do is put him on high alert and make him more likely to push you away.

Q — Quiet Time (How much alone time do they need, or do they want to be with you 24/7?)

He stays busy—whether it's running several profitable businesses around Alabasta or dealing with Cross Guild, he doesn't have much spare time, and he's pretty used to it.

That means he's also accustomed to a lot of alone time, and that it's required for his work.

He doesn't mind you being there while he's dealing with it, but only if you're quiet—if you insist on distracting him, he's not going to be pleased.

He's fine with you laying back across his lap, even against his chest with his arm stretched over your shoulders, just as long as you're not intentionally disturbing his concentration.

Though if you are intentionally disturbing him, he will bend you over and wear you out until you're too spent to bother him any further.

R — Romance (How romantic are they? Do they have to force it ir does it come natural?)

Not much of a romantic at all. He's pretty accustomed to just being able to win over women with money and status.

Dinner reservations at expensive restaurants where the waiting lists go on for months, ritzy parties and clubs, anything that allows him to throw his weight and wallet around and show you off.

He will make a point of keeping his attention in you—his arm curled around your waist, keeping you close at his side—but traditional romance is definitely not his strong suit.

S — Spending Money (How much do they like to spend on you?)

Physical touch is his love language, but it's best that yours is receiving gifts, because you're going to be getting a LOT of them.

Designer clothes, jewelry expensive enough that it could be used as collateral in purchasing a small nation, the finest perfumes, date nights that could cost a few hundred thousand berries—whatever your poison, he's providing it.

You're never going to want or need for anything. Even if something just briefly catches your eye in a shop window or a vendor stall, you're likely going to find it in your possession before the end of the day.

In a way it's an apology for not being able to spend as much time with you as he feels you deserve—he'll never say so out loud, that would injure his pride, but the implications of it are heavy.

Only the best of the best for his lady.

T — Trust (Are they trusting of you? Jealous?)

There are some definite trust issues with Croc. It's not uncommon for women to cozy up to him just for monetary and material gain, and he's well aware of it. It's going to take a lot of time for him to fully believe that this isn’t your endgame.

Even once he does trust you, may the heavens have mercy on any man whose eyes linger on you for too long, because he'll need divine intervention to save him if Crocodile catches him.

At that point it's less a matter of his trust wavering—it's more a matter of the fact that he does trust you, and doesn't want to lose that, to lose you now that you do have his trust.

U — Underwear (What kind do they wear, and what kind do they like on you?)

Tends toward tight boxers and briefs (always designer) to show off his physique.

That's his default, at least; you could pretty easily talk him into wearing something more skimpy if you want.

He's going to have a full closet of expensive lingerie for you. If it's something he wants to see you in, he's buying it.

The finest silk, the smoothest satin, the most delicate lace. If it's fit for a queen, then it's yours.

V — Vulnerable (How vulnerable are they with you? Is it easy for them to open up to you?

There's a solid steel wall separating you from his emotions and his past that is damned near impossible to break down.

He has to be able to trust you before he can be open, and again, that's going to take time. A lot of time.

He doesn't allow himself to take that kind of risk—one single mistake, being the slightest bit too open with the wrong person, and every ounce of power he's built up could come crashing down on the wings of blackmail and betrayal.

That being said, once you do manage to gain his trust, you'll be the only person he's open with.

And he'll be completely open, because it's a bit addictive, as it's not something he's accustomed to—being able to be comfortably vulnerable is a nice, relaxing change of pace.

W — Wine and Dine (Do they prefer meals at home or going out with you? Who does more of the cooking?)

Domestic endeavors definitely aren't his forte. He's had a personal chef on his staff since well before he met you.

He isn't going to prevent you from cooking if you enjoy it—though he might find it a little strange, since it's a task he considers below him.

He might even watch you out of sheer curiosity, though it's doubtful he will partake; he'll be more likely to sit back and puff on a cigar, taking the opportunity to enjoy the view and let his eyes roam over you while you work.

Overall, he would usually prefer to just go out, or let the staff handle it...but he does find something particularly enticing about seeing you working with your hands, regardless the reason.

X — X-Rated (How good are they in bed? What do they like?)

You're going to need a safe word, because he's aggressive. He desires total and absolute control, and won't settle for anything less.

You're his free use slut—if and when he wants you, you had best be ready for him.

He'll curl his hook around your neck and his hand around your waist to pull you back against him, let out a slow breath against your neck as his slips your clothes down your shoulders to lay in a pool at your feet.

Or simply rip them away from you, pressing against you to ensure you feel the hard heat of his arousal straining against his clothes, throbbing against your ass and your lower back.

Tilting his head down to ensure you both feel and hear his low, commanding growl in your ear.

"You're mine. Aren't you, my little whore?"

Whether he leads you by the edge of his hook to the privacy of your bedroom he simply bends you over his desk is entirely at his whim.

Either way, he's going to do little more than pull your panties to the side before he thrusts straight into you and fucks you relentlessly.

He's selfish, his main concern is mostly his own gratification—but he still has some concern for yours.

He does love the sound of your breathless moans, after all. Your cries of abandon are music to his ears, and there's nothing more intoxicating than the feeling of your pussy tightening up and pulsing around his cock as you fall limp beneath him in the wake of release.

Pulling you right back up by your hair before you've recovered, hearing your breath catch in your throat.

He lives for it, growling in your ear as he tightens his grip around your tender flesh, pinching and rolling one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, his lips curled into a cruel smirk.

"I didn't say I was done with you, slut."

He has no intention of stopping until he is done, until he's fully satisfied—whether that means making you cum until you pass out or cramming his cock down your throat until you're choking on his cum, it doesn't matter.

Either way, he always gets what he wants.

Y — Yearning (How long will they pursue the person they're interested in before losing interest?)

Not long, in most cases. He can just throw money and gifts at most women and get the gratification that he's after out of it.

He's going to be more interested, and honestly more likely to pursue, if you can't be bought.

If you're interested in more than what he can provide for you on a material or physical level, he's going to be intrigued. That's not something he's used to.

In that case, he very much enjoys a good game of cat and mouse. He'll want to find out exactly what makes you tick, and he's going to persist until he does find out.

He'll likely be courting and fraternizing with other women at the same time initially, but he'll push them away in a heartbeat if you engage in the game and show interest.

He'll probably still throw money and gifts at you, as that's what he's accustomed to doing—but he'll make a point of learning about you, and make the gifts more personal, more in line with your interests and passions, to ensure you know he's paying attention.

He still won't wait for too long. The whole hard-to-get shtick is fun for a time, but he will move on if it begins to seem to him like he's being strung along. If he isn’t the one in control and he feels like he's being played a fool, he'll cut his losses without a second thought.

Z — Zen (What do they do to wind down and relax? Do they prefer to do it alone or with you?

He doesn't have much time for rest and relaxation, so he values it immensely—and he absolutely requires your presence for it.

Even if he doesn't show it most of the time, you're his solace, his peace, the one thing that warms the cold and calculating persona he has to keep up almost twenty-four seven.

If he's reclining back with a glass of bourbon and a cigar, he wants you there. He needs you there.

Reclining back against his chest, his thumb brushing circles against your waist, trailing delicate patterns over your hand as he lies his head back to slowly exhale a plume of smoke.

Lowering his head back down to admire the sight of you, to brush your hair behind your shoulder and murmur in your ear.

"Get comfortable. You're not going anywhere until I say so."

[ddejavvu]

Can‘t stop thinking about the usually so confident hotch getting yk kinda shy and clumsy all of a sudden, everyones just so confused as to why he‘s getting a bit quieter or redder in the face with seemingly no reason

But when in a case meeting they notice Hotch gripping the sides of his chair, biting his nails (nervous tick), making himself small in his chair and his leg shaking so much that they can feel it in through the floor

And you just standing behind him, one hand on the back of his chair not even really touching his shoulder with your fingertips and listening to whatever Garcia has to say with your full attention that they realize how Hotch has it bad BAD for you

You don't make it into the round table room until after everyone else is already seated, and unfortunately for you, that means you're out of a chair. Your typical seat is filled by Strauss, who looks less-than-pleased at your late entry, but holds her tongue.

"I'm sorry for being late, everyone," You linger behind the seat facing the screen that Garcia has prepared, your hands resting on the back of Hotch's chair, "There was an accident right in front of me, and I had to give a witness statement. Have we started yet?"

The team is used to Aaron leading conversation, but it's not necessarily weird that he doesn't, and Derek shakes his head.

"All good- uh, Y/L/N." He seems to have been going for a nickname that Strauss would not be amused with, and wisely reels himself in, "We barely got halfway through."

"I'll-" You lean down over the back of Hotch's chair, and it creaks as he shifts in it. You peer down at the case file that's open in front of him, and his eyes are glued to the word victim as you scan the details over his shoulder. He can't move them, he can't act natural, he's stiff as a board and tense in his seat.

"Oh," Your nose wrinkles at the word enucleator, "Gross. Okay, well- uh, go ahead, Garcia. I think I'm caught up."

"Okay. So victim number three was just last night, in this parking garage," She grimaces as the image on the screen, "And wow, that's nasty. But- um, Houston PD has asked for your help, and I really don't want to look at this anymore, so I'm gonna go, and- and let you take over. Do your- profiler genius thing," She stammers, gaze averted from the screen as she rushes out, emphasizing her command with a wave of her hands, "Be gone!"

Reid gets right into things by rattling off statistics on enucleators. They're fascinating, really, but not entirely helpful, and you lean down once more to inspect the case file.

"Sorry," You murmur beside Hotch's ear when your fingertips brush against his shoulder, "My seat was taken."

He doesn't answer, can't afford to open his mouth and hear his voice waver. All he does is nod, once, stiffly, and it casts an uncomfortable ache over your chest. Is he angry with you?

He could be annoyed, perhaps. That you were late in front of Strauss. But he's never been afraid to chew out an agent in front of an audience if it's what they truly deserve, and if he had a problem with your tardiness you're sure he would let it be known.

"Are you okay?" You ask him in that same low murmur, one that sends shivers down his spine to a place he can't think about with you hovering above him. He nods, vigorously so, and his tie moves with the gesture. You decide that he's just uncharacteristically nervous about Strauss's presence, perhaps she's threatening once more to demote him or fire him altogether.

You reach down to place your hands on his shoulders in what's supposed to be a supportive gesture. You squeeze gently at them, feeling his muscles impossibly tense, and the room falls silent as Reid's ramble ends.

"Okay, so these victims aren't connected," Morgan reads off of his case file, "Different genders, different races, different tax brackets, nothing in here that suggests there's a common thread. Opportunity, then?"

"It looks like it." JJ agrees, "I mean, a parking lot at night? That's high-risk. I'm willing to bet this guy just stumbled upon his first chance and took it, then couldn't stop."

There's a quiet round of agreement, some 'yeah's and a thoughtful nods, and the room falls silent. This is Hotch's moment, his time to share his conclusions, his thoughts, his doubts, his orders,, but he can't bring himself to do any of that. Not when your thumbs are gently rubbing out the kinks in his muscles, hidden from view like a comfort you're sharing with him in secret. He can't bring his mind to generate any adequate responses, so he pretends to busy himself with the file in front of him to avoid the probing gazes of his coworkers.

They're smirking. They know what's going on, they see the pink tinge on Hotch's face, they hear his foot tapping the floor beneath the table, they know he's fumbling for words like a lovesick teen.

Strauss is not as amused.

"Agent Hotchner, might I remind you that you're the chief of this team? They are awaiting your instruction."

You press your hands harder into his shoulders, thumbs digging further into his tense muscles to soothe him through his nerves. He feels your hands hold him tighter, feels that staticky feeling threaten to envelop the last part of his brain that had remained clear, and speaks before it can overtake him.

"Wheels up in thirty." He snaps, voice forcibly firm, "Dismissed."

Strauss seems rather displeased with his mediocre orders, but she doesn't say it. She lets Dave herd her out the door with the promise of freshly brewed coffee in the kitchen, and Aaron pointedly ignores the thumbs-up that the older man shoots behind his back as he leads her away.

"She's gone," You breathe, patting Hotch's shoulders as you release your grip on him, "God, she's scary."

"Derek," Emily calls sweetly, "Can you come with me to my desk? I had a newspaper clipping I wanted to show you."

Your nose wrinkles, newspaper clipping? Emily doesn't read the newspaper.

"I'd like to see it too," Reid rushes to follow them, "Uh- JJ, come on, Garcia said she wanted to see you before we took off. She wanted to give you that- uh, thing."

"That thing!" JJ repeats, grinning madly at you as she tails Reid out of the door, "See you on the jet!"

"That thing," You echo in a scoff, "Hotch, did you ever follow through with that drug test on Garcia? I think they might both be on it. Whatever it is."

Hotch manages a weak chuckle, and it brings a frown back to your face.

"Hotch, come on." You plead, "Are you really worried about Strauss?"

No. He's not. He always is, a little bit, but that's not what has his attention. He can't shake the feeling of your hands on his shoulders, rubbing out the knots in his muscles and pressing flush to his form. He wants to feel your hands over him again, in the same places and in others, but there's a bozo running around Texas removing people's eyes, and he can't afford to focus on that now.

"She's got nothing on you," You take his silence for an answer, smiling sympathetically at him, "Come on, Hotch, just forget about her, and lead like you normally would. That's enough to impress her, I guarantee it. You can do this, Hotch."

Looking at your earnest smile, standing only feet away from you when you reach out to grab hold of his hand and squeeze sympathetically, Aaron is certain of only one thing: He cannot do this.

[fafnir19]

Genie's lamp

Lex strolled along the cobblestone streets of the small coastal town, soaking in the salty breeze that whispered tales of the sea. His summer holidays had brought him here, seeking respite from the bustling city life and his studies that had consumed him for so long. As he wandered, a glint of light caught his eye, drawing him to a narrow side street where an ancient-looking shop stood, its wooden sign creaking in the wind. Intrigued, Lex pushed open the heavy oak door and stepped inside, the musty smell of old books and incense enveloping him. Shelves lined with peculiar artifacts and trinkets stretched out before him, each item holding a hint of mystery within its aged confines. "Welcome, young traveler," a voice called out, drawing Lex's attention to a figure behind the counter. Declan, the shop owner, stood before him, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Feel free to browse my collection. I must make a quick errand to the post office, but I'll return shortly." As Declan made his exit, Lex's curious gaze wandered over the shelves filled with curiosities from distant lands. His eyes landed on a tarnished Arabic lamp, its intricate designs whispering of tales untold.

As he lifted the lamp, a playful grin tugged at his lips, recalling childhood tales of genies and their whimsical magic. He rubbed the lamp absentmindedly, half-expecting nothing but a puff of dust to emerge. Lex's eyes widened in awe as he watched the ancient lamp in his hands start to emit wisps of smoke. His heart raced with excitement, a smile spreading across his face. The air crackled with energy as the smoke coalesced into a muscular figure, clad in black leather harem pants, standing with their back to him.

"Cool, a real genie! I already know what I will wish for! Ahm… what’s actually your name, genie?" Lex exclaimed, overcome with excitement. Turning slowly to face Lex, the genie's eyes gleamed with a potent mix of mischief and malevolence. "I am Jafar," the genie rumbled, his voice laced with authority "You will refer to me as Master, mere mortal." Confusion clouded Lex's features at the genie's command. "Master? What do you mean?" he spluttered, uncertainty tainting his tone. The genie's next words sent a shiver down Lex's spine. "Kneel before me and submit," Jafar commanded, his voice steely with power. Fear gripped Lex's heart, his instincts urging him to flee as he took a step back. With a shaky voice, he stammered, "I...I have to go." His heart raced as he made a break for the door. But before he could make it, an unseen force lifted him off the ground, tendrils of smoke enveloping him. Panic seized him as he felt himself turning to smoke, his very essence slipping away.

The laughter of the genie echoed around him as Lex found himself being pulled into the ancient lamp. Inside, the world shifted around him, his clothes transforming into exotic harem pants and golden rings adorning his limbs.

Panic surged through Lex as he pounded against the walls of the lamp, trying to break free from this strange and terrifying prison. Jafar, the genie, held the lamp nonchalantly, observing Lex's futile attempts with amusement.

"You're quite the spirited one, aren't you?" Jafar's voice dripped with malicious charm. "But fear not, the lamp's magic will soon calm you and make you more... impressionable." A strange calmness settled over Lex, his mind clouding with a soothing fog. "Relax, kneel," the genie's voice commanded, its tone both hypnotic and commanding. Filled with a strange sense of peace, Lex obeyed, his anxiety giving way to a bizarre sense of acceptance.

Lex's thoughts grew foggy, his will bending to the genie's influence. "It has always been your hidden desire to help others," Jafar purred. "What better way than to serve me?" Finding a strange sense of logic in the genie's words, Lex embraced the idea of serving.

Followed by the genie's revelations about Lex's yearning for confidence and independence hit uncomfortably close to home. "Your struggles stem from your desire to be strong, my dear Lex," Jafar continued, his voice a luring whisper. "You do not need to be strong yourself, but to walk in the shadow of greatness," Jafar's words resonated within Lex's soul. The genie continued, his voice like a hypnotic melody. "Simply follow a strong master, and you shall find your purpose." A revelation dawned upon Lex, a realization that perhaps he had been searching for guidance all along. Lex felt a strange sense of clarity wash over him and gratitude swelled in his chest as Jafar offered his help and guidance. So, Lex embraced the notion of relinquishing his independence and accepted willingly, to follow where the genie led with a newfound sense of purpose.

Jafar's words cut through the haze, revealing a truth about Lex that he had never acknowledged. "All your struggles stem from one simple truth you deny," Jafar's voice carried a weight of finality. "You are secretly gay, Lex." Lex's breath caught in his throat, his mind racing as he grappled with the unexpected revelation. Could it be true? Had he been blind to his own desires all along? “But... but I’ve never...” Lex's voice faltered, uncertainty clouding his mind. Jafar demanded, "Admit it. Say it aloud. Acknowledge who you truly are." Doubt flickered in Lex' eyes, but after a moment of hesitation, he said, "I...I'm..." his voice trembled before he took a deep breath and uttered the words, "I'm gay, Master." Jafar's laughter rang out, a mix of triumph and satisfaction.

"Well done, my obedient pleasure boy. Embrace your new self." Lex felt a strange mix of liberation and vulnerability wash over him as he acknowledged his hidden truth, sending ripples of change through his being. As the words hung in the air, a wave of acceptance washed over him, mingling with the confusion and fear that clouded his thoughts. Before he could dwell on his newfound revelation, Jafar swiftly sprung into the lamp.

Jafar's eyes danced with triumph as he took a step closer to Lex, his movements predatory and sinuous. With a swift motion, he caressed Lex thighs and member through the delicate fabric of the harem pants. A moan escaped Lex's lips as he felt the undeniable response of his body to Jafar's touch. The genie's dark eyes held a predatory gleam as he watched Lex' cock respond eagerly to his dominance. "That's mine now, right?" he purred, his voice dripping with power and desire. Lex's response was a guttural moan, a simple "Yes, Master," escaping his lips as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. Jafar's grip on Lex's chin was firm yet gentle as he lifted his gaze, locking eyes with him in an unspoken command. "Show me your devotion," he demanded, his voice laced with undeniable authority. Feeling a mix of devotion and arousal, Lex knelt before Jafar, his hands trembling as he reached for the genie's leather-clad thighs.

As he sucked Jafar’s dick, his mind clouded with submission, a strange eagerness washing over him. The genie's deep chuckle filled the air as Lex' obedience pleased him.

As Jafar reached the heights of pleasure, Lex obediently swallowed every drop of his master's cum, savoring it with an appetite fueled by his submission. Jafar's dark laughter mixed with Lex's moans, creating a symphony of domination and pleasure within the confines of the magical lamp.  Just when the intensity of the moment peaked, a sudden interruption shattered the moment. The shop owner's return brought a jolt of reality to the surreal scene unfolding before him. Declan's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the sight of the genie and the student, frozen in a moment of twisted bliss. "Ah, Declan, your timing is impeccable as always," Jafar's voice dripped with smooth amusement, his gaze lingering on Lex with a knowing look. Lex's cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal, unsure of what would come next in this unexpected encounter between master, servant, and unwitting spectator. The air crackled with tension, a sense of anticipation hanging heavy in the magical shop.

Declan's voice cut through the silence like a sharp blade, "Jafar, I wish that you let the boy free!" His words held a tone of authority that demanded obedience. Jafar's eyes narrowed, but he begrudgingly complied, knowing he had to obey Declan's wish. "Your wish is my command, master," he hissed through clenched teeth. In a swirl of magic and smoke, Lex was released from the confines of the lamp, standing once more in the shop, his eyes wide with a mix of relief and confusion.

Declan approached Lex, his gaze filled with sympathy as he explained the gravity of the situation. "I arrived just in time. A few minutes later, and Jafar would have transformed you into a genie for good," he revealed, his tone grave yet comforting. Gratitude swelled within Lex as he realized the extent of Declan's intervention. He had been spared a fate worse than he could imagine.

Lex mind was still reeling from the whirlwind of the events that had unfolded and he felt a sense of overwhelming fatigue wash over him. "I think that's enough excitement for one day. It's time for me to leave," he mumbled wearily, ready to escape the bewildering events of the day. Yet, Declan's words halted him in his tracks, his gaze locking onto Lex with a mix of intent and purpose. "As you have already swallowed Jafar’s seed, you have gained magical powers that need to be trained," Declan explained, his tone unwavering. "You must become my sorcerer apprentice now."

Lex's mind reeled at the sudden shift in his destiny. From a simple student on holiday to now a budding sorcerer under Declan's guidance, his life had taken a dramatic turn.

Though Declan reassured him that Jafar's revelation about his supposed hidden gay desires was part of the genie's corrupting influence, a lingering sense of longing remained within Lex. The memory of serving Jafar, albeit under false pretenses, had stirred something deep within him.

As Lex embarked on this new chapter of his life, delving into the world of magic and sorcery under Declan's tutelage, he couldn't shake off the echoes of his encounter with the genie. The allure of power, the pull of submission, and the whispers of forbidden desires tugged at the edges of his consciousness.

And so, Lex's journey into the realm of mysticism and enchantment began, marked by the lingering shadows of his past encounter and the uncertain promise of what lay ahead as he navigated the path to becoming a powerful sorcerer and, perhaps, mastering the depths of his own desires.