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moondirti · 19 days

Note

Hellloooo🖤 I’m the anon who asked about the Safehouse story!

My brain, unfortunately, is not nearly as wrinkly as yours so I cannot come up with creative ideas like you 😂 BUT! I have a few ideas? Maybe? If you can call them that lol.

Was the spanking the first physical interaction they had? What did the morning after that look like?

What happens if reader has a nasty mental health episode & tries to hide it from Ghost?

Does the pet thing progress? I think we all know that Ghost has a thing for the pet play. I don’t even care, that’s totally canon for me at this point.

Would you ever consider writing about the general dynamic they have? Like the “rules” Ghost might have for them?

Totally and completely a self indulgent ask from someone who just had to pull themselves out of a nasty mental health episode lmao I’m so sorry please ignore this if it’s annoying or dumb!

shh i love all of these. i have so many thoughts now / prev

cw: dubcon d/s lifestyle. petplay. controlling behaviour. possessiveness. panic attacks. toxicity. noncon collaring. financial manipulation. mention of self harm. brief fluff.

Your thing with Simon is hard to contextualise.

Or even understand, really.

Parts of it are welcome. He asserts himself in a way you haven't found in the nobodies you've hooked up with previous, happy to fuck you dumb if it means you'll surrender yourself completely. Which you do. You listen intently and follow every direction he gives in bed, and as a reward he wrings orgasm after orgasm from your squirming body. You cum more in one week than you have in the past month, never not naked and sore, wrists tender from where he anchors his hand to keep them pinned above your head. You hear puppy more than your own name, at this point. And it's a concerning because– Well...

You don't mind it.

But you still don't like him.

It isn't like you necessarily need to like your partners in order to have a good time, but it certainly helps if you can tolerate them beyond a dick-in-hole condition. Simon is an anomaly in that he is the worst person you know, whilst also serving as the best lay you've ever had.

That is to say, his habits haven't changed. He's a fucking terror to live with. Nightmare flatmate, the type you see strangers complain about on reddit forums or hear in a friends story from their sister's husband's cousin. Not something you would take seriously until you live the experience – now existing as a sore, precautionary tale you'll no doubt be pitching to anyone also considering subleasing their place as a safe house.

Perhaps it's made worse by the sexual element you share. Before, he had just been your average perverse man, stealing clothes and walking in on you in the bathroom. Now, it seems that sleeping with him has given him the go-ahead to push that behaviour to an extreme. He'll pat your ass while you go about your business, or tug your hair when you raise your voice. Treats you like a pet that has yet to be debarked; just a silly, sub-human way of entertainment.

You can't help but feel you enabled it. But no–

The pet play is cute when he's drilling your brains out – and perhaps only because you can't think straight enough to raise concern – but you're not a dog. Nor do you want to be treated like one throughout all hours of the day. The onus is on him for not catching the hint.

But of course, accountability isn't in his lexicon.

Things only get worse from there.

"An' where d'you think you're going?"

You're halfway out of the door when he catches you leaving.

If you had been more iron-willed, you would slip out and scurry away before he can continue whatever spiel he has stirring. Instead, it's instinct to shrivel in on yourself, clicking the door shut before turning to face the behemoth waiting in the foyer.

"Out." You huff, intent on cold-stoning him. But it's a fools game when your opponent in the broad-shouldered lieutenant – for he merely cocks his head, waiting your silence out with more silence, and it's all you can do to bite your tongue against the deluge of excuses that pile up. "My mates thought it would be a good idea to catch brunch. Y'know– to celebrate the start of summer break. It's a nice day out so..." You gesture to your attire, like you have any reason to justify a sundress to some man you are in no way committed to.

But you can read the possessive gleam of his eyes as they take stock of your appearance: from your expensive mules, up your moisturised legs, to the low cut of your décolletage. It's easy to connect it to that look he had when you came back home that fateful night, the look of warning before he'd taken you over his lap and slapped your ass raw.

And for some odd reason, you're compelled to dig yourself out of trouble.

"Hm. It is a nice day, innit?" You nod a bit too quick. He stalks closer. "Lots of people out." Your nod is a little less enthusiastic. He's centimetres away now. "Some bad, bad men too."

He lifts the ends of your dress, slowly. Your next words quiver on their way out your chest. It's alarming to find that they don't sound nearly as assertive as you intend for them to be, not like they do horny.

"Where are you going with this?"

Your skirt pools around your hips now, held up by one hand as the other smooths over with the gusset of your panties.

"You plan on lettin' them have at this puppycunt? Have I not been givin' it enough attention?" He mockingly coos, pressing harder against the mound between your legs. Your knees grow weak. Not of your own accord, but weak nonetheless, and you have to hold onto his wrist to keep yourself upright. "Is tha' it?"

"N-No–"

"No? But that's what they'll think seeing you walk around like this, silly thing. Poor, neglected mutt, they'll say. Don't have a firm hand to keep 'er in line." Simon tuts, releasing his grip on your dress to pull something out of his back pocket. With the way he crowds into you, you can't crane your head to see what it is. "Now we can't have tha'. I spoil my girl rotten, wouldn' you say?"

"Yes. Yes but–"

"No buts, pup. Have ta stake my claim on you somehow." Something clicks. All too suddenly, you're made aware of the new weight on your neck. It tightens against the column of your throat – not enough to constrict your airways, but enough so that it hinders the way you move. "There we go. So pretty like this."

Panic seizes you, the steel fist of paralysis capturing your muscles in a vice-like clutch. Even as Simon pulls away, you're almost scared to find yourself in the nearest mirror. Scared of what you'll find dangling between your collarbones. There's no mistaking the textured leather that presses against your skin, nor the soft clink of metal hanging from it. No fooling yourself that this is all some cruel joke, not with the sick leer of satisfaction that warps his face.

Stumbling, you navigate to the bathroom and blindly turn on a light.

That cruel fuck.

"Simon," Your voice is devoid of the anger you feel roaring through your veins, circuiting through the frenzied stutter of your heart to find new passion. Instead, you sound horrified. Near hysterical, choking on your own pleas as you run back to the foyer. Your hands tug at the collar clasped around your neck, desperately searching for a buckle that will aid you in ripping it off, despite seeing the lock latched right at the centre that tells of its permanence. What's more, he had it engraved with a crude variation of a dog collar tag. If lost, leave alone. Or else count your days. "S-Simon, Simon please. Fuck– take it off. Take it off, take it off! I don't want this, I don't want... This isn't funny. I'll change if that's what it takes. Please."

Snot bursts from your nose, cheeks wet with a hot mess of tears. You can't suppress the hiccups that interrupt your begging like pathetic shots to the chest, or the weak hits you beat across his pecs. If you could, then perhaps he would give your tantrum more weight.

As it stands, you're nothing but a feral creature resisting training.

"Shhh. Pets can' speak. Pets don't cry." His thumbs press to your under eyes, tamping the flow of brine that mark steady tracks from your lashes. "You'll ruin your makeup like this."

"Si–"

He stare hardens into something dangerous. Against your better judgment, you clamp your lips shut.

"That's it. You're s'good when you listen to me, pup." Once he's sure you've stopped crying, he removes his thumbs to instead push one into your mouth. You can taste the salty residue of your tears on his fingertips. "Now, this is the bes' of both worlds, see? You can go see your friends with this on. I know pets need their playtime, af'er all."

You arch your back in protest, but all that does is bring you closer to the lieutenant. He misinterprets that entirely, of course, and a small smile breaks his face like you've agreed to his terms. A heavy palm pats your ass.

"S'jus' so you don't forget who you belong to." He chuckles. "An' if your friends like the idea, then I have a few friends for them."

You make it one block before hightailing back home.

Nothing in you wanted to give that bastard the satisfaction, but he made it so that whatever you chose to do – stay home or leave wearing a symbol of his ownership – he'd end up triumphant. Naturally, then, you opted for the lesser of two evils: to leave his vicinity immediately. Besides, you'd promised your girls you'd see them after going AWOL the past fortnight, and you knew you'd get an earful if you decided to reschedule at the last moment.

You thought you would convince them it was a bet. That the collar is just some silly joke you have to bear for the day after a football match didn't go in your favour.

But you make it one block before a tradie on his lunch break catcalls you (you about that freaky ting, beautiful?) and decide to change course completely.

You arrive back at your flat without further incident. Ego stung from the various odd looks you received on your way, but nothing as egregious as being singled out as a freak in the midst of a crowd occurs again.

Still, your hands shake as you push your key into its slot.

Which progress to full body tremors as you turn it in place.

Thankfully, Simon isn't waiting on you on the other side of the door. He sits, manspreading on the couch instead, focus zeroed in on the telly that broadcasts Fulham v Man City. When he doesn't look away, you allow yourself to hope he hadn't heard you come in. But it's a naive pool to place your faith in. Nothing escapes the man, and soon enough, his tone of humoured indifference shatters the silence you've been precariously trying to keep.

"Miss me 'lready?"

A wretched sulk, pit of anger hollowing out anew. You swiftly snatch your laptop from the breakfast bar before storming to your room, making sure to lock the door firmly behind you.

The website is bookmarked. Taunting. Sublet your home as a safehouse for our armed forces. Serve your country and help soldiers find refuge. You would laugh if you weren't so single-minded, typing in your email and password upon being prompted to. You don't have to deal with this shit any longer, nor do you intend to. If you remember correctly, there had been a way to report any problems you face. If you phrase yours right, you might just get Simon pulled from your services.

Good dick be damned.

But when you hit enter to sign in, an error message blinks in red.

Account does not exist.

Which is fine. Shit like this happens all the time. There's no reason to work yourself into a panic, you probably just used the wrong email.

So you try your alternate. Account does not exist.

It feels unlikely, but maybe you'd created it under your school email to give yourself credibility. Only–

Account does not exist.

Your blood pressure is no doubt sky high by now. Other symptoms of stress already start to wrack through you – blurry vision, chest aches, difficulty breathing. Your hands sweat excessively as you dig for the customer care number you're sure exists somewhere, efforts impaired by the ever-present weight of the collar around your neck. You wonder if Simon can smell your anxiety like a predator does its prey. If he's in the other room, salivating, waiting for you to wobble out of your room to go for the kill. Some part of you – a needlessly paranoid part – rests on the conclusion that this is somehow his fault too.

Your phone already rings in an outgoing call once you blink back to the present. While you've been functioning on autopilot, you must have found a number to call that related close enough to your issue.

And your suspicion is confirmed when an automated voice picks up. You are currently... second... in line.

It takes five minutes. When a placating woman speaks up amidst the nauseating music they have queued, you can hardly contain yourself from word-vomiting onto her. Safehouse signup. Lost account. Need to report an issue. Please. It's urgent.

"Okay ma'am. If you could give me your name, I'll be happy to find the source of your problem today." You can't spell it out any faster. "Alright. One moment, please."

"O-okay." You sniffle miserably.

"I see. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but it seems that you've been pulled from the program after a complaint was lodged against you. Unfortunately I can't provide more detail than that, but if you need anything else, I would be happy to assi–"

You hang up. The poor thing doesn't need to hear the incensed scream that tears from the deepest parts of you, or the following crack as you chuck your cell at the wall. She'd done what she could. It isn't her fault. It was that self-serving bastard that had you blacklisted from the only thing keeping you financially afloat. It is that that self-serving bastard that continues to occupy space inside your home, despite having no real right to it now.

The tantrum isn't near cathartic enough to unfetter you from your prison of aggravation, and you continue to take it out on everything in your near radius. Your duvet and pillows. The lotion you keep by your beside table. Your own skin, nails piercing into the soft flesh of your palms.

And especially the collar constricting your throat, like vines that tighten at the first sign of struggle.

You have to get this collar off. Even if you fail at everything else, you have to get this collar off.

Scrambling off your bed, you turn your room upside down looking for a bobby pin or a knife. One is unquestionably the safer bet, but you know you'll sit for hours trying to pick the lock that keeps you shackled – so when you find the boxcutter sitting at the bottom of your junk drawer, you immediately take it to your neck.

Just as Simon barges into your room.

You're so far gone, you don't even question how this must look to him. In fact, it doesn't occur to you that you locked your door, and that the only way he could've gotten in is by having a replica of your key. No. You merely twist away from the all-encompassing hold he wraps around your arms, determined to keep the boxcutter away from his confiscation until you can slice through the leather.

But you're crying. Visibly, alarmingly unstable. And Simon's breaths are a little faster than normal, faltering in a way they only do when he's close to climax. He must be worried, which is a funny thought, seeing as he's the reason you're in this mess.

"Alright thas– that's enough of that." He grunts after managing to pry the blade from your hand. You hardly mourn the loss, rather crumbling in on yourself as your sobbing escalates. No longer frustrated, nor determined. Just primed into a suffocating panic attack.

Somewhere in your auditory periphery, you hear the clinking of glass. It doesn't register until he holds a vial of lavender extract you keep under your nose, forcing you to inhale the medicinal aroma. Soon enough, your mouth opens to swallow gulps of unscented air alongside it, and the imposed breathing exercise calms you to a point of blubbering calm.

(For someone so apathetic, you admit he handled that expertly.)

That isn't the end of it, though. Moments later, you're lifted off your feet. He cradles you in both arms as he makes his way to your bed, sitting up against the headboard and placing you on his lap. Safe. Undisturbed.

You say nothing, pressing your wet face into his shirt. For comfort, first and foremost, but the makeup that'll undoubtedly stain the white fabric is an added bonus.

"Know this is hard for y'to understand, pup." Simon begins. "Hard for you ta wrap your head around ownership after bein' alone for s'long. I won't punish you for tha'."

"Y-You don't own me." You accuse.

He shakes his head in response, like your mind is truly as little as he claims. Like you're a dog, complete with two ears and a tail, and he plucked you off the street on the condition that you heel.

If anything, he's the stray.

"Oh, but I do." A large hand rubs circles on your back. Never have you been so conflicted, so torn between leaning in and biting back. "Just don't see it yet, pet. Bu' you will, in time. And in the meanwhile, we'll establish some ground rules to help you adjust."

#do not be a cute girl around this man he will ruin your life #unedited #sorry this took me ages to pump out #tumblr deleted the first draft (?) so i had to rewrite #hate this dumb site #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #ghost #simon riley #x reader #x female reader #call of duty #fanfic #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader

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ronearoundblindly · 5 months

Text

Midnight Kiss

Steve Rogers x reader

Just a little ditty in honor of the upcoming holiday. Warnings for suggestive language and bad puns. It's just cute, awkward, and chivalrous...until it isn't. If you couldn't deduce it from the title: they kiss lol. WC 1.5k+

He's happy to see the team having fun, but this isn't exactly Steve's 'scene.' Granted, his 'scene' flew the coop long ago, when his generation aged out of large, raucous celebrations, or rather, Steve never had any true social scene because he never really lived .

He's still trying, he swears; it's just...

really. damn. loud.

The lights are somehow too dim and too bright all at once. Everyone is happy and blitzed and dressed to the nines and leaning on the closest stable object. Any minute now, he'll bow out and call it a--

There's an ear-piercing cackle from a woman in a '2024' gold-streamered headband not two yards to his right, and she tips backwards, shoving an innocent passerby straight into his solid side.

"Sorry," you squeak, rolling your eyes because the word wasn't loud enough to shame the drunk woman beside you, but you're facing him, too, unable to see she's about to make it worse.

The woman snorts and laughs harder, toppling over because her party of friends have the reaction time of sloths, their hands full of dainty champagne flutes and mini-snacks.

Steve instinctively pulls you out of the way, his broad, strong arm wrapping your waist and pinning you to him.

"Oof," you grunt in alarm, the woman's drink spilling over your shoulder.

Hors d'oeuvres, Steve thinks sullenly, that's what people call them these days.

The woman doesn't apologize, and neither do her friends.

He counts a full five seconds before anyone in the small group even raises a hand to help the woman still giggling on the floor. Mostly, Steve is now concerned with the glass shards near your feet.

He's all for having fun, he's all for letting off a little steam, but he is not a fan of sloppiness. That's not a generational trait; that's simple courtesy.

"Ok, 'nough of this," he mutters, an itchy irritation scurrying up his body while he tries not to take over care of the woman. Instead, he checks your legs with a glance, sees the open toes of your strappy sandals, and hoists you into his arms.

He walks away from the bar, sound of crunching fading with each step, and finds a tiny bench--the only spot not occupied--where he can set you down.

Steve can't hear your shock or protest because his blood races past his ears. That was the last straw. He's annoyed now.

"Stay there," he commands, putting up a finger that gets shockingly close to touching your lips since you leaned in to speak. "I'm getting some napkins."

The bartender is oblivious, and why should he not be? The man is one of two serving over a hundred guests, give or take, for hours and hours. Steve doesn't bother getting his attention. He stretches a long arm over the bar top and grabs a stack of cocktail napkins.

It might as well be toilet paper.

He dabs and dabs at the sleeve of your dress, but the napkins dissolve and turn to damp pills. In his day, those results would make excellent spitballs to pass the time in class. They aren't so trendy on your black velvet.

"I thought this would work." He doesn't know what else to do but keep dabbing, so he anxiously continues, not noticing the precarious proximity to your chest until you put a hand on his.

You have kind eyes, he thinks, even though he can't fully make out their color in the mood lighting.

"Please, don't--" finally one of the woman's group yells over a quick sorry "--don't bother with that," you finish. "It's just a dress. You can go back to your people, Captain."

He scrunches his brow. He sometimes wants to introduce himself; he wouldn't always use his rank, but he rarely gets that luxury. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." You nod. "Was heading out anyway. I'll just sit a sec and then leave."

Sounds like the highlight of my night--leaving.

Instead, Steve stands to his full height and scans the busy room for any of his team. He shrugs to himself since, who's he kidding, no one will miss him if he disappears early. He's put in the appearance. He's made enough small drunk talk. Yikes, does he wish alcohol still affected him...

"I'll walk you out," he offers, careful to modulating his volume when one song abruptly ends and another starts lower.

At first, you don't take his hand, and your first two steps seem sturdy.

Then your weight crumples after a deep hiss.

Steve has you back up and carried to the bathroom in a flash. It's lit so he can actually see and muffled so he can actually hear, thank goodness.

Glass did sneak into your shoe, and it easily poked through the ball of your foot. He's so quick to find it that not one whole drop of blood has even eased out of the wound by the time he's pulling the shard out. His bare hands pinch the sizable chunk.

He's careful, slow, and gentle. He's also a touch proud that you make very little fuss, only squirming in discomfort while he works.

"All better," he says, dropping the glass into the trash bin. "We'll just wash it and...you alright?"

You're already pushing yourself off the counter top.

"You shouldn't put weight on it yet." Steve gingerly lifts your leg at the knee to keep the foot from touching the bare tile floor.

"Yeah, but--" you make a face "--you set me down in water."

Steve's eyes bug out. "I--oh gosh--so sorry, I--let me--" there are no paper towels, only an air dryer "--shit."

Defeated by modernity again, he sighs. "I just...I can get more napkins and maybe a first aid kit from--"

The crowd outside is starting to yell. They're counting, backwards, and there's no way anyone will understand what he's asking for in that chaos.

"Ten!"

Steve meets your eyes.

"Nine!"

He can see their full color now and that your dress isn't black. It's a very, very dark maroon velvet. Wetness is easily visible though, since your sleeve seems fully black at the shoulder.

"Eight!"

He points to the door. "Somebody I can get for you?"

You shake your head.

Not that he was fishing for your relationships status, but he's encouraged nonetheless.

"Seven!"

"Only me," you shrug, "braving the party for a thrill..."

"Same."

"Six!"

"How was the year?" he cracks with a smile.

You tilt your head. He's distracted by the cute gesture.

"Five!"

He stares.

"Four!"

"Not great," you admit.

Steve thinks while he stares.

"Three!"

Actually, no, that's a lie. He doesn't think; he just acts.

"Tw--"

He swoops in, big palms cradling each side of your face, soft lips pressed to yours for just an instant, but only because he wants more.

Unless tortured, Steve Rogers will never admit that he didn't plan for one instant where his tongue was not involved. He absolutely wants to taste you. He absolutely wants to own you, just for these few seconds. He absolutely wants to hear you moan in encouragement, the sound crystal clear in isolation from the party.

The roar of the crowd is soft static compared to that racing blood of his.

He pushes himself closer, his bent arms getting in his way, so Steve props up with a palm on the--oh wow, that is wet--counter. His thumb touches the soggy velvet covering your hip and thigh.

He'll buy you a whole new dress if only you lace your fingers in his hair, if only you take his bottom lip between your teeth, if only you whine just like that again.

By 'again,' he means in a few seconds, and maybe tomorrow, and, for good measure, whenever after that.

A loud thud on the door knocks him out of his lip-lock trance. It's not a single restroom, so he suspects another overly inebriated patron since no one comes through the door.

But now some sense is knocked into him, too.

He chews on his swollen lips for a moment, nervous to look up. He hopes you don't regret it, and he hopes you know that he does not, can not, and will never regret that kiss.

Your sated sigh breaks the tension after a beat. "Starting this year off right," you mutter, "at least for me..."

"Yeah," Steve chuckles, glancing at the door before finally taking in your lounging form, "the gang is gonna love how I ended up in a ladies' bathroom at the stroke of midnight, necking a stranger."

You snort.

"Don't leave out the part where I was wet for you, head to toe, huh?"

Too bad the florescent lights are bright enough to show his raging red blush, but he clears his throat with a deep growl.

"They'll never believe me..."

Steve sweeps you up into his arms again.

"...unless I take you as proof...and to get a bandage, of course."

You snatch up your shoe and purse, but he won't let this Cinderella run off. You'll be right here against him all night.

"Well, go ahead and splash my other shoulder," you tease. "I can't be lop-sided."

Steve grins, already adding more and more things to list of what he'll do for you, to you, and with you. The list can include parties, too, if this is how wonderfully sweet and silly they can all be.

Happy New Year, indeed...

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp (My taglists are all jacked up again, so if you are missing from the list and/or want to be tagged, please let me know!)

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you

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dead-dove-yandere · 3 months

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Hiiii~! I'd love to request a Mean Girl Yandere x Class President Darling.

Sure she acts out a lot, but only to get attention from you. But she really does hate it when other people take up your free time...

You can make up whatever name you'd like, also I don't mind waiting a while so don't stress yourself out.

Goodbye, sweetie~!

~ 💌

Hi! This one was fun to write! Tbh in my country, they don’t really have class presidents in schools so I wasn’t really sure what a class president does, but (in my school at least) they have something called a student ambassador which I think is similar? So I based it off of that lol. Enjoy!

OC Intro - Cayce

Mean Girl Yandere

Female ♡ 18 ♡ Human ♡ Student

TW: Bullying, Stalking, Obsession, possessive behaviour, implied violence

♡ - You’re total opposites - Cayce’s rude, mean, aggressive, flippant and disobedient. You’re a role model, studious, a shining example to your peers - although she thinks that’s just a long way of saying that you’re a borderline nerd.

♡ - It was no surprise to anyone when you ran for Class President, and she spent your entire campaign rolling her eyes at your every speech - including when you promised to try and help struggling students improve their behaviour.

♡ - Cayce sneered - what did a posh goody-two-shoes like you know about her life? She was going to make you pay for trying to stick your nose in her business.

♡ - She started by acting out even more, disrupting classes she shared with you and trying to distract you from your work, hoping that would annoy you.

♡ - When that didn’t work, she just got worse, focusing all her ire onto you - calling names, yelling at you, occasionally even throwing pencils or erasers at you.

♡ - But no matter what she did, you didn’t lash out. You held your nerve and kept your patience, always making it a point to remind her that you want to offer her support.

♡ - Cayce can feel her face flush and get warm every time you tell her that in your kind voice. At first she thought it was anger, but then it slowly dawned on her that she wasn’t angry anymore. She liked the positive attention you gave her.

♡ - She was mortified that she might ever gain a crush on someone like you, and yet she couldn’t deny her feelings any longer. She swore to keep it a secret, yet she wanted your attention badly.

♡ - Instead of helping with her behaviour, you accidentally only made her meaner, crueler, snider, all because she knew that it would be the way to grab your attention.

♡ - And when she saw another school council member talking to you, getting too close and smiling too much, even putting her hand on your arm? Well, she knew exactly how she could really get your attention then.

Personality

Cayce is fairly antisocial and despises authority and anyone she sees as an authority figure - even if secretly, she yearns for approval. She likes to be independent and in control, and when she doesn’t get the attention she desperately craves she’ll act out in order to get it. To her, good and bad attention doesn’t exist. As long as her darling is looking at her, talking to her, focusing on her, it’s good enough for her. She’s easily made jealous and her short, explosive temper means that jealousy can easily switch to rage.

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

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cannellee · 3 months

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May I request Alpha!Kanto Mikey taking his S/O to a gang meeting (cause we know he's not leaving them alone just for a meeting 🙄🙄) all his executives are probably not even allowed to look when the S/O's around LOL

If you want to you can definitely add some spice 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Your writing is so good every time I read anything you write my heart goes 💕💕💞💞

TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆

୨୧ yandere! alpha! mikey x omega! reader

— mikey taking his omega with him during a gang meeting

my masterlist : ☆

(not my best and I made it yandere + the spice isn't that spicy, I hope you don't mind though:/)

YANDERE! ALPHA! MIKEY (kanto era)

mikey had developed a deep fear of leaving you alone. he isn't particularly expressive, but his thoughts are constantly assaulting him with horrible scenes of his loved ones dying and he'd rather die himself than let that happen to his omega.

you're very precious to mikey, indispensable and a necessity. he forces you to be by his sides at all time, ordering you to inform him whenever you want to go somewhere on your own -if he even lets you-.

gang meetings at night were a regular thing, mikey used to lock you up inside his room whenever he had to leave for one of them. but after you accidentally dropped a vase and hurt yourself to the point of bleeding, mikey was against that idea.

he brought you everywhere, demanding respect from his members for you. everybody knew who you were, despite never having once talked to you. you were like a precious doll people could only admire from afar, your guardian mikey being the only one allowed to consider you as more than an untouchable jewel.

you didn't know what mikey did that you sparked fear in the eyes of every man present. was it the scent of your alpha lingering on you, the way his eyes seemed to bore a hole into their head whenever they did as much as look at you? you didn't know, but they all kept their distance with you. the bravest only stealing weak glances your direction, while never actually approaching you. was it out of respect or out of fear for mikey? you weren't sure.

during the meeting, mikey kept you close to him. he towered over everyone at his usual spot, looking down at his members. you had a special spot next to him, on top of the stairs. you had to sit quietly, waiting for mikey to finish talking, all sweet and docile.

you mindlessly munched on the snacks mikey had bought you beforehand, to make the wait less boring. he knew you weren't that pleased to be here, but he was glad you didn't put much of a fight and just listened to him.

as you watched him, his back in front of you, you wondered how he could get so sweet sometimes. he, who was so fierce and menacing, feared by others gangs and even his own members. you liked the gentleness he showered you with whenever it was the two of you.

after those kind of meetings, mikey was always enthusiastic about showing you how much he cared and how he will never let anyone have you.

your exposure to the hungry eyes of other alphas always seems to spark a surge of possessiveness. how dare they look at you that way. mikey can only imagine the kind of thoughts they have upon seeing his precious omega. even with all his warnings, there still are reckless alphas who think they're worth more than you. who don't believe mikey would beat them up to a pulp just to ensure his omega's dignity and comfort are untouched.

mikey will send the others off at the end of that meeting. barking commands at them to leave the fastest they can, and they'll be left wondering who annoyed their leader. because despite mikey's temperament, he doesn't get mad pointlessly. he most usually acts on impulse whenever his omega is involved, so it isn't hard to guess what could have pissed him off if you pay attention to his reactions.

after everyone's gone, mikey is dragging you far into the temple, making you drop your snacks on the ground in the process. you can protest all you want but mikey doesn't care.

he pins you against of wall once he's sure you're both safe from any potential curious eye. he buries his head roughly into your neck, his nose nudging your scent gland, searching for the spot which lets out the sweetest scent. he's pestering your jawline with wet kisses, slowly travelling down your neck and softly bites your collarbone. you whine, gripping his blonde hair and abandoning yourself to him, completely at his mercy.

with dark eyes and wet lips, he finally looks at you, giving one last deep kiss to your panting mouth.

"I can't stand how they're looking at you, should just gouge their eyes out"

you laugh softly, knowing that despite his impulsive nature, he wouldn't act so cruelly, "don't, or you'll soon have no one else attending your meetings"

"might be better this way, nobody will ever bother us, and they won't watch so carelessly what's mine anymore", he continues his assault on your skin, drawing a few moans out of you. he makes sure to leave red marks, putting his claim on you as if it wasn't already clear that you were his.

he relishes the sighs of pleasure you let out. he feels proud and satisfied to be the one eliciting such vulnerable and intimate reactions out of you.

that's right, you were his omega only, and those alphas could look at you all they want, but in the end, mikey was the one able to touch you this way, to play out any fantasy he had while the others could only dream.

you were his to own and possess, mikey had put his claim on you and from that moment onward, you had nowhere else to return to if not his arms. mikey will always make sure you'll stay with him, safe and sheltered. he'll give all the affection he has to give, all the love he can provide. and you'll love him despite his fucked up self and suffocating embrace.

"you know you're mine, don't you? you're such a pretty little thing, love you so fucking much baby"

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afriendlyblackhottie · 2 years

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Dangerous Woman

Summary: you’ve been a thorn in Lloyd’s side for too long. Turned out you were wearing him down.

Warnings: smut, minors dni, daddy kink, dub/non con towards the end, creampie, rough sex, name calling, if there’s any tags I missed please tell me lol

(A/N: there’s no way I’m alone in my new obsession with Lloyd Hensen so I wrote this fic hoping others would see my vision. Unedited. Like, follow, and reblog with a comment 💜 ✌🏾)

———-—————-—-—————-———

It was an understatement to say that Lloyd saw you as a thorn in his side.

The way you seemed to pop up wherever he may be. Trying to get your hands on the same shit as him. Who the hell did you even think you were, trying to step to him. Must have been out of your goddamn mind.

You’d fancied yourself as a “good guy.” He took it more so to mean you were just boring. Couldn’t keep up in a world like his so you had to become a whatever the fuck you were trying to do to feel like you were doing something special.

But what were you really doing aside from annoying the fuck out of him? Not much. Well except…

It wasn’t often that a man like Lloyd found someone that could keep up with him in the slightest. He liked being one step ahead in any given situation. Was a man with a plan even if those plans didn’t account for any casualties. He didn’t give a shit if people died as long as he was still living the world was blessed with his presence and that was all anyone needed.

So when you started popping up like a gnat to the finest fruit, he knew he had to squash you somehow. Not like he was against playing dirty to get to where he needed to be. Just because you wanted to be a goody two shoes doesn’t mean he cared. If anything it only made him want to get you to cut this shit out sooner.

Such a shame though. In another life he could have marveled at your beauty. Found you cute enough that he’d even be willing to make an honest woman out of you if you didn’t annoy him so fucking much. Maybe that’s what made it worse. Crushing on the enemy? What the fuck was this? Middle school?

But first he needed to find out who the hell you were working for. So far the CIA had been ruled out. You didn’t appear to be a cop. Unaffiliated with that other shmuck and his team. That was the strange part.

Yet you managed to keep up somehow. Funny how that worked.

First it started out with you intercepting a “package” he was supposed to pick up. Then you somehow ended up getting your hands on a very expensive painting that he was pretty sure was meant to be hung up in his humble abode of a mansion in Croatia. And he was pretty sure you were responsible for that building blowing up when he had his eyes on a target.

The paranoia had started eating at him. Making him feel like he always had to watch over his back. Grown men hadn’t bothered him as much as you had. Each encounter seeming to be a bigger version of the one before and that’s why he was making it his mission to destroy you.

——————————————————

“I would have had her if you stupid fucks would stay the fuck out of my way!” He yelled as he stomped up their stairs. Not wanting everyone to know how things had really went down.

This was supposed to be easy as hell. Should have been an in and out if anything. Just take you out and boom he could finally move on from this game of cat and mouse.

He had you! The two of you finally getting into it one on one when he found you alone on top of the building. Was just about to pin you down when the team came up. Making you do a quick disappearing act.

Before anyone could respond because it’s not like he gave any fucks about what excuses they came up with, he stomped up the stairs. One more move away from throwing a full blown tantrum. This shit should not be this fucking hard.

Lloyd huffed as he retreated to his bedroom. For once didn’t even want to say anything anymore. Probably because this was total and complete bullshit.

For once he wasn’t getting his way and he really didn’t fucking like it. It wasn’t like they didn’t know who the fuck you were. It was like you weren’t even trying to hide it. Of course he had the technology to crack your nothing ass passwords. It was the same for everything.

Sure there were things they had nothing on like your family and where you came from, but they knew your name. Your fucking phone number. What you looked like.

Almost like you wanted him to find all that shit. God it- it pissed him the fuck off. How he couldn’t stop staring at those photos of you. Like he was waiting for you to pop out from the shadows. Then he could finally show you just how fucking much you annoyed him.

His chest tightened as he inhaled deeply. Feeling a fire in the pit of his stomach. He can’t remember the last time something had gotten him this worked up.

How he found even more ready to finally get rid of you was that each time he looked, he found himself going over every feature. From those eyes to that curl in your lips to the cleavage you were definitely not trying to hide.

It wasn’t like Lloyd couldn’t get any woman he wanted. Of course he could. For all the things they say about him all of them wanted to know what it was like to get a piece of him. They’d be willing to put up with it for a millisecond.

Hell he hadn’t even been able to hit up his usual roaster of broads as he’d been too pre-occupied by you. Fucking, ugh!

He doesn’t know what it was. Call it a crush as disgusting as that sounds, but he found himself fucking obsessed with the idea of getting his hands on you and at this point you’d toyed with him so much he wasn’t even sure how he meant it anymore.

Maybe it was that no woman had ever given him a real challenge before. He couldn’t marry some basic bitch that wouldn’t understand his line of work. He deserved better for himself.

No, no. He wanted the type of woman that was just as ruthless as him. One that didn’t shrink down in his presence and let him walk all over. Someone that understood his vision for the world.

The only problem was he didn’t know what the fuck you were trying to do. But god he couldn’t stop fucking staring at that cleavage.

He didn’t even think he wanted to kill you first when he finally caught up with you. No, no, no. He wanted you to really feel it. Something… something that’ll make you understand his frustration.

Torture might be fun. Obviously tying you up. Getting that rope real tight. Duct tape around your mouth so he couldn’t hear a fucking peep. If he was really feeling like a dick he would really fuck around with you. Maybe stuff something in your mouth so you couldn’t even whimper.

He’d get a gag just for you. Or not give a shit and really humiliate you. Maybe shove your panties in t-

Lloyd shook his head. Not even sure about what the fuck he was thinking. Clearing his throat as he stepped under the shower head. Hoping to wash it all away.

If anything he was tired of thinking about you. You didn’t deserve this much attention from him. Rolling his head back as he tried to force himself to relax.

He didn’t like being this tense. Would definitely need a massage soon. Hmmm could get one of those girls that would give him a happy ending to do it. Definitely a good idea. He could really use the release.

What would really release him, is catching up to you. Forcing you to be the one to do it. Tying you up, panties stuffed in your mouth, maybe topless with those clamps attached to your-

Fuck what the hell was going on with his head. What was actually wrong with him. He knew he couldn’t be this attracted to some cleavage to make him lose his fucking mind. He was Lloyd fucking Hensen. He didn’t lose his mind over some random bitch.

Right?

Maybe it came from his need to absolutely over power you. Take advantage of you for once. Show you that he was the one in power. God he’d fuck you until he split you in half. That’s what you deserved.

It was like he was an autopilot. Had went from trying to bathe to getting distracted by how hard he was. God he doesn’t think he’d ever been like this before. Just raw fucking need.

Lloyd grasped it in his hand. Tilting his head back as he starting to move up and down his shaft. Fuck. Yeah what it he turned the shock on. Really get down to business punishing you.

Unlike his usual session, the two of you could be alone. He wouldn’t want those fuckheads to see those parts of you. Not to see he was totally against fucking you in front of an audience. But this would need to be something he did specially to you.

He could see himself degrading you. Telling you what a little bitch you were for taking shit shit. Fuck you like he hated you.

Fuck, he shouldn’t be thinking shit like this. And yet once he told himself to stop the feeling just grew.

That was when he heard a giggle that made him jump. Stopping what he was doing to grab the fluffy white towel to wrap around his waist.

Either you had him paranoid, or-

The banging on his door let him know he wasn’t totally full of shit.

“What the fuck do you mean she’s in the house!” He yelled. Still only in a towel and totally unprepared. Of course you’d catch him jerking off. Not that he even wanted to think about how it was you he was fantasizing about. “You stupid fucking morons! Are all of you that shitty at your goddamn jobs you couldn’t keep look out?”

He needed to get his gun and change considering you’d caught him with his cock out. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

As he went back to his bedroom he was ready to rip his hair out. Couldn’t even jack off without you trying to fuck with him. He swears he heard that little giggle. Where the hell were you.

“Hello, Mr. Hansen,” the greeting came out as a purr making him turn around to face you.

There you were sitting on his bed. The little cat suit you were wearing was taunting him. It clung to you in a way that made him almost think it could have been painted on. He wanted to wipe it all off and that fucking smirk off your face.

“You know you’re really fucking annoying,” was all he could even say. That feeling coming back in his chest. God he really did want to fucking destroy you.

You shrugged, before standing up. Crossing your arms. “So I’ve heard,” you replied. “What can I say? I don’t stop until I can get what I want.”

“Really? Because it seems like what you want is to get on my fucking nerves.”

There goes that giggle again. The same one he’d heard in the bathroom. Had you been watching him? God, and you were a little fucking pervert. Just wait until he gets his fucking hands on you “And what if it is?”

“Look, whatever you’re trying to do I need you to either step the fuck out of my way-,”

“Or?” You cut him off.

“Or I put a bullet in your ass.” He took a step closer to you.

“Figures you wouldn’t fight me like a man about it,” you replied with a smirk.

“What? Is that what you want?” He laughed.

“Well, no,” you mused. “I just thought you’d be a bit more… diplomatic.”

“Do I look like a give a shit about diplomacy?” He growled.

“True,” you replied. “I mean neither do I so at least we’re on the same page.”

“The only reason I haven’t killed you yet is because I’m curious to know what the hell your deal is.”

“I dunno, Mr. Hansen, you tell me.” Once again you purred out his name, getting a little closer to him. “Maybe you have something that I want.”

“Well, whatever it is get it out of your mind.”

You pouted. “What’s the matter? Don’t think you can take me?”

He found himself wishing he could fuck your face. Maybe then he’d get you to shut the hell up. Pretty soon the gap between the two of you had closed. You cocky little shit.

That’s when he finally grabbed you. Turning you around so he could wrap his hand around your neck. Shoving you into the wall. His towel loosening around his waist. “I think you want me to do my worst to you. That’s why you’ve been doing all this shit.”

You struggled against him as he pushed your face into the wall. You’re not gonna do shit.”

His lips getting close to your ear. “I’ve been dying to destroy you. Do not fucking test me.”

The grip around your neck tightened as he found himself pushing his body against you. A thought flashing in his mind about how he’d just jacked off thinking about this very moment. Shit.

“Is that a gun under your towel or are you just happy to see me?” You teased.

“You’re not exactly in the right position to make jokes.”

“No? Then what am I in this position for?”

“You’re not the one asking questions, you little bitch.” He could have sworn he heard you let out a little gasp. “Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“How did you even make it passed my men?”

You let out that fucking giggle again. “Come on, Mr. Hansen. You and I both know they’re not the most competent. Besides this is between me and you.”

He finally loosened his grip so you could turn around. Though he had you still pinned. Wasn’t about to let his guard down.

“Oh yeah? And why is that?”

“Because you have something that I want,” you replied with a shrug.

“I’m getting real fucking sick of your cryptic bullshit,” he said, grabbing your neck again. “Tell me why I shouldn’t end you right now?”

“Because you need a girl like me,” you said, then bit your lip. Were you enjoying this? You sick fucking freak.

“I don’t need shit from you,” he said.

“I dunno, Lloyd. Definitely feels like you need something from me,” you said.

As much as he was trying to annoy the affect you were having on him it wasn’t exactly easy. Considering his dick clearly wanted to make its presence known.

“Shame you didn’t get to finish taking care of that in the shower,” you added. “You know I think we’d work well together, you and I.”

He rolled his eyes. Deciding to humor you. “And what makes you say that?”

“Let’s be real, all of your men are morons. Wouldn’t it be nice if one person under you wasn’t?”

Lloyd raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side. “And you’d be the person under me?” He laughed.

“I could be. In more ways than one.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t thought about it,” you said, reaching down to finally grasp his cock in your hand making him hiss. Licking your lips. “You didn’t get so worked up after our fight for no reason.”

Lloyd groaned as he let you work your hand up and down his length. It didn’t make any sense how good it felt. Damn he’d needed this bad.

Thoughts flashed in his mind again of him being the one to tie you up. Putting clamps on your nipples and turning on the electricity to watch you jolt. He wasn’t sure what kind of affect you were having on him but his dick clearly didn’t care considering it only grew harder as you worked it up and down.

A knock on the door, stopped you from taking things further. Making him look down and then up at you with a glare. Fuck. Not these idiots interrupting the two of you again.

“What?” He barked, trying to act like things were normal.

“We can’t seem to locate the target,” one of his guards told him, trying to look everyone else but him as he stood in front of him, not having bothered to cover up.

“Well, keep looking and don’t come back until you’ve got her. I shouldn’t have to do every fucking thing around here.”

As he slammed the door in his face he turned back to see you back on his bed. God he still wanted to wipe that smirk off your fucking face.

He found himself grabbing your face. Squeezing your cheeks in his hand and bringing your head up. “If you want this, let’s get one thing straight. I’m the one in charge. I sign off on every goddamn thing you do. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” you said again.

That was when he leaned forward. Finally closing the gap between the two of you as he finally put his lips to yours. You putting your hands on his shoulders as he brought your leg up so he could grind his hardness into you.

Quickly pushing you away, by grabbing your neck again. “Hope you like it rough, Dollface, because I don’t plan on showing you any mercy.”

“You promise?” You pouted at him again.

God he should have known you were a little fucking slut. “Is that what you’ve been wanting? That’s why you’ve been pissing me off. Needed me to fuck the annoying out of you.”

“Uh huh,” you whimpered.

“Beg for it. You don’t get to just have my dick after all the trouble you’ve caused.”

Before you could even say anything, you got on your knees looking up at him. “It’s prettier than I thought it’d be.”

“Yeah?” He groaned.

“Mhm,” you hummed out. “Can I please put it in my mouth? Been wanting to suck it so bad. Can I? Please? Can I suck your dick, Sir.”

Lloyd knew that as soon as he said yes, his brain would shut off. Was he ready for that? To have his guard down around you.

“Hold on,” he said.

You groaned. “What?”

“Because just because you look like a good like cock sucker doesn’t mean I trust you.”

Another pout came on your lips. “Fine.”

“Ever sucked dick with a gun pointed at you?” He asked as he came back with his firearm in hand.

Fucking whore he could see you salivating. “No, but there’s a first for everything.”

Lloyd groaned when you finally put your mouth on him. Sucking him like you’d done it a million times before. Fuck you were good with your mouth. Had him thinking that damn maybe he did need a little freak like you around.

“Fuck,” he put his hand in your hair. “You’re a good little cocksucker.”

“Think so?” You asked him as you pulled off.

All he did was glare at you. “I don’t think I told you to fucking stop.”

With that he tightened his grip in your hair. Forcing himself back into your mouth. You wanted to do this? Then you would have to take him exactly like he wanted you to.

He pushed you back so your head was against the bed. Pinned in between the mattress and his hips. You wanted to act like a thirsty little bitch for him, then he’d treat you like one.

Lloyd Hensen could be a very cruel man and sex was no different. He wanted to dominate. Show no mercy. Maybe you were the perfect candidate to be treated like this. Not like he hadn’t already been thinking about it.

He moved his hips so he could fuck your throat. Laughing to himself as you gagged around him. Finally letting you off so you could breathe.

“Get up,” he demanded grabbing you by your hair again, so he could toss you on the bed. Still in that little suit and he needed to get you the hell out of it.

Hurrying to take off the thigh high boots because the quicker he could have access the quicker he could fuck you like he’d been wanting to. Something about a woman doing all this shit to impress him made him only want to fuck you more.

As soon as your skin came into view he got to nipping at your skin. You were so damn ready for him. Maybe it was because of all the fighting served as a kind of foreplay for him. Maybe you were onto something.

“Lloyd,” you gasped, putting your hands in his hair. Tugging at it as he started kissing your stomach. Pushing you down so he could move to your thighs.

Bringing your legs up so he could finish taking you out of your suit. His lips going to your tits as he climbed on top of you.

“Ugh!” You moaned.

Fuck you sounded so pathetic, but he kind of liked it. Wanted to bring it out in out more. Take you down a few notches. Make you really feel it.

Fuck what the hell were you doing to him. Was he really planning on keeping you around. After all of that? Right now he had the upper hand and instead of taking you down to his men, he was about to fuck the shit out of you. And you were a very willing sex toy.

Maybe a part of him was flattered even. All he knows is you did look sexy as fuck. Ready for him to use you however he pleased. But first…

You let out another pathetic noise as his tongue touched your clit. What can he say? He wanted to know what you tasted like.

And fuck did you taste good.

“Fuck me, please,” you sobbed out.

“Yeah? And why should I do that?” He asked, pulling away. Keeping his fingers inside of you so he could twist them inside of you. “I could get a million other bitches on my dick. What makes you so special?”

“Cuz I think you like the challenge,” you replied.

Lloyd rolled his eyes. Couldn’t argue with that one. That was the worst part. Instead he pushed you back down to climb back on top of you. Keeping your legs up so he could still finger fuck you.

“Fuck!” You gasped into his mouth as he started kissing you again.

“That’s it,” he hissed. “Little slut. Did all this shit for my attention. So fucking desperate for me. You just wanna get fucked that bad.”

“Uh huh,” you breathed out as you tensed up. Could tell he was getting you on the edge and he wanted nothing more than to push you there.

“Fuckin’ cum for me,” he said. “Cum all over my fucking hand.”

The way your body jolted as you squirted out. Trying to find something to grab onto as he took you over the edge. Damn you were getting his sheets all messy. Nasty little slut.

“This what I do to you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you cried as you finally clawed at his shoulders. “Oh god! Oh my god!”

“That’s a- that’s a good bitch keep cummin’ for me,” he hissed into your ear.

You let out another one of those embarrassing little whimpers. “I- ugh- god!”

While a part of him wanted to keep doing this another part wanted to feel this wet little pussy creaming on his cock. Watching as your grool covered his hand.

Lloyd smirked at it and then back at you. Chuckling to himself before smacking it onto your face in a sharp slap. Making you let out a little squeak before he smacked one of your breasts. Fuck be was having so much fun disrespecting you. It was exactly what you deserved after all the trouble you’d caused.

And god was he planning on fucking you like it. He’d get to the other punishments later. For now he was gonna let his dick tell you all you needed to know.

He dipped the head of his dick into your wetness first making you mewl. Fuck you were so ready for him. And he was ready to give it to you.

“Oh, fuck!” You cried when he finally slammed in. As if he was about to go easy on you. He’ll savor it later. Right now he needed to hate fuck you.

“Acting fucking crazy just so you can get my dick. Wonder what’ll happen when you’re fucking addicted to it for real,” he said into your ear.

“Lloyd!” You squeaked scratching his back. “Yes!”

He was so deep. Definitely trying to rearrange your guts. You scratched at his shoulders. Practically clawing at him.

He grabbed the back of your head, bringing it up as he pressed his forehead to yours. Your deep breathing fanning across his face as

“This what you wanted, huh?” He asked with a groan. Fuck you felt good all tight and snug around him. Only getting worse as you clenched around him. “You gonna cum for me?” He asked into your ear next.

“Yes, Daddy,” you cried.

“That’s it. That’s a good little bitch. You know who your fucking daddy is don’t you,” he groaned. “Cum for me, Baby. Cum all over daddy’s dick.” He hissed as you did as he told you. Screaming out with tears in your eyes.

Lloyd pulled out, but didn’t let you get comfortable in thinking he was going to let you take a break. Instead he just grabbed you again, snatching you close so he could pull you into his lap.

“Come here,” he said, grasping your hip as he positioned you on top. Not giving you anytime to recover from your orgasm as he worked you up and down his length. Slamming his hips up so he could meet every thrust.

You pushed his hands away, getting on your feet so you could take better control. Lloyd let out a moan as you started riding him just fucking right. Like you’d done this a million times before.

He tilted his head back, closing his eyes as he got comfortable underneath you. He’d be lying if he said he’d felt a woman feel as good as you did. The way your pussy tightened around him. How wet you were. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t the only one about to get addicted.

He grabbed your ass as you leaned down to kiss him. Gripping your flesh as he moaned into your mouth. Fuck. He was not about to be able to hold on at all.

“Shit, I didn’t put a condom on. Lemme cum on your face,” he groaned as he tried to push you off. Instead you stayed firmly on top of him. If anything riding him a little harder. Slamming your pussy down his dick like you were trying to force it out of him.

You shook your head as these gasps came from your mouth. “No.”

“Get- fuck!” He groaned as it started to hit whether he liked it or not. His eyes rolling to the back of his head. “That’s it, Baby, fuck you’re riding me so fucking good.” He groaned.

You put your hands on his chest, holding him down as he succumbed. “You’re mine!” You purred as he felt it hit cumming deep inside you. Not stopping until every last drop of him was milked from his cock and inside of you. Even sinking down a little deeper like you were trying to make sure you got it all. Breathing all heavy as you fell off of him finally.

Lloyd looked at you, unsure of what he was supposed to do next. If he’d been expecting for you to be the one obsessed, he had another thing coming apparently. But that’s why men shouldn’t stick their dick in crazy, he was bound to get hooked.

#fics by afbh #lloyd hansen smut #Chris Evans smut #lloyd hansen x reader #Lloyd Hansen x black!reader #Lloyd Hansen x female!reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x black female reader #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black women

3K notes · View notes

letmewritepliz · 27 days

Text

Captain John Price (COD) NSFW Headcanons (1) (requested)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

I think he would pretty much be into every kink you’re into/ask him to perform with/for you (except scat, but the golden shower is okay-ish). He trusts you. He wouldn’t shame you for it, rather he would find it interesting/hot that you’re into that kind of stuff. When it comes to sharing you, though, for example, he would def have to be present to watch or, even better, participate in the sharing of your body. Others can use your mouth or ass, but your pussy is his (he would make you wear a plug/wearable dildo to make sure you, and everybody else seeing it, remember that. The sharing thing shouldn't be too frequent though, otherwise it would start to annoy him, and never with the same people more than once (you get to choose them and he never says no to whomever is your choice). He would always personally make sure everybody’s clean though, he would never risk your health (or his, for that matter)

He wouldn’t pressure you into performing his own kinks, bc he’s lowkey “scared” it would backfire on him during a discussion. As long as he’s fucking you and you know you’re his, almost everything else is secondary to him

I think he would be one of those men who enjoys you sending them nudes and videos (even the ones where your face is visible). He would never share them with others or let anyone else see them on purpose, but I’m pretty sure that, if you two ever broke up, he wouldn’t delete them and would lie about having deleted them… Also, he wouldn't/couldn't send you his nudes/videos (reputation and all. I know, double standards suck, but let's also remember what his world and profession is)

He gives off the vibes of a lover who would praise and degrade you at the same time during sex (if you’re into that). For example: “Who owns this greedy pussy, love?”, “Your cunt is sucking me dry, love (he always throws the "love" in there, for good measure, lol)”, etc…

He’s gonna give you all the kids you want, seriously. He definitely has a breeding kink and likes seeing you pregnant with his kids. Plus, I'm sure he would be a great father and very patient with them (would give them life lesson speeches at every occurrence, lmao)

He likes manhandling you into every position

Don’t ask me why, but I think he would be a good and dedicated pussy eater, lol

Would def appreciate a non-shaved pussy: “Like God intended”, and would not pressure you into shaving—in general

I will certainly come up with other headcanon bc this is like my fav thing to do in fandoms, lol. Ask away in my ask section if you have a particular topic in mind. 🙌🏻 Please, read my pinned post first! ✨CLICK HERE TO GO TO MY MASTERLIST✨ P.S. Any nice words and likes/reblogs are appreciated, cuz I really need it, lmao. Thank you if you do. 💙

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

Text

For The Hell of It - Ateez X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Crack!Fic & Idol AU

Genre: Fluff, Humour, Crack

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 7,178

A/n: So, this was inspired by my own frustrations as both a tall and chubby girl and always seeing indicators about how “small” the reader is compared to the love interest in reader insert fics. It’s time to pin THEM against the wall! They swim in YOUR clothes!! Hehehe As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Disclaimer: This fic isn’t meant to ‘call anyone out’ if they use these tropes or do these things the reader rants a bit about to start. This is just me writing out some of my feelings and expression emotions surrounding my own frustrations. If you aren’t tall or chubby, you’re still most definitely welcome to read this! It might put some things into perspective for you, who knows! Also, as a reference, I'm literally as tall as Mingi, so that’s how I pictured heights in this lol there may or may not be smuts to come of this later in the future, but that’s still undecided. ;)

Summary: San finally gets to live out one of his fantasies... yet, so do all of his friends.

A Friday night unlike any other. Well, for the most part. You finally had an evening where all of your schedules lined up, so you agreed to spend the night drinking with the guys. They were all celebrating a successful tour wrapping up, and the start of a month long vacation to rest after their most recent comeback. You, on the other hand, are celebrating a promotion at work, with a generous pay raise to boot.

You’re just happy you can all find jobs that you love, and still find time with each other to spend hanging out. You haven’t been best friends for years for nothing.

“No, I’m serious!” You continue, noticing you have every single one of their gazes transfixed on you right now. “I can’t count the amount of fics I’ve read that someone has sent me where it’s supposed to be a second person point of view, only for it to say some shit like, “you looked up into his eyes” or “character tilted your head up to meet his gaze”. Don’t even get me started on the “swimming in his clothes” trope.”

The way you snort is echoed by both Yeosang and Wooyoung.

“Literally, it’s so annoying when you’re reading something, get almost fully immersed in it, only for the “he towered over your small frame” to get thrown into the mix.” You continue, gesturing at yourself with your hands to emphasize your next point. “Like, what part of me is small?”

You laugh, incredulously, and most of them can only blink at you in shock.

“Listen, if I want to imagine myself, I don’t know, sword fighting with Zoro, I’m definitely going to be eye level with him.” You rant. “I’m literally taller than he is!”

“You read One Piece fanfiction?” Jongho asks, a teasing glint in his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink.

“There is a serious lack of Shanks reader inserts, and I am devastated,” you sigh, shaking your head.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Wooyoung leans forward, a mischievous quirk to the corner of his lips. “So, then, have you ever read any fanfiction about us?”

Your eyes gleam, “wouldn’t you like to know, loverboy.”

Mingi snorts out a laugh, right alongside Yunho as Wooyoung pouts.

“My one friend sent me a Changbin size kink one once,” you recall, scrunching your nose. “Weirder when you know the person, but like, I’m literally double his size. Was hilarious when my friend tried to explain to me how that was supposed to work when there’s no way in hell he could ever make me feel small.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong leans back onto the couch. “Don’t need to know that.”

“I can’t wait to tell Binnie about this,” Wooyoung cackles, already pulling out his phone to text said male.

“Like, I know it’s not the worst inclusion issue that reader inserts have,” you comment, shaking your head. “Don’t even get me started on the descriptions of skin tone or hair type. Yet, it just gets so frustrating when every fic you read isn’t as inclusive to you as you’ve been lead to believe.”

“Write your own,” Yeosang shrugs, offering a solution.

“I do!” You reply, and you watch as nearly all of their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines. “Though, half of the time it’s easier said than done.”

They nod, seemingly in understanding as you continue to rant.

“Literally, for once I just want to read a fic where the reader pins the guys against the wall.” You take another sip of your drink. “Have him wear my clothes for a change, and see how he swims in my hoodie.”

You fail to notice the way both Seonghwa and Jongho shift slightly in their spots, both swallowing thickly.

“And don’t even get me started on a lot of the chubby reader type fics out there.” You sigh, shaking your head once more. “I’m more than just my insecurities, but that’s all chubby people seem to be known for. Like, I’m fat, not ugly.”

The guys all tip their drinks in acknowledgement at that, agreeing with you wholeheartedly.

“Do you know how venerating it was when Resident Evil Eight came out, and everyone and their mom started simping for Lady Dimitrescu? Confidence boosting to the max. The fics that came out of it were immaculate.” You lift your hands in front of you for emphasis, touching your pointer finger to your thumb.

“Oh yeah, Sannie boy had much to say about her,” Wooyoung teases, and you notice the aforementioned man turn bright red.

“Hey!” He reaches over to hit Wooyoung’s knee harshly.

“Boy wanted to be pinned to the wall so bad he asked me to do it for him,” Yunho chuckles, only causing the younger male’s blush to deepen.

“Did you do it?” You raise a brow, pure mirth dancing on your features.

“No,” Yunho chuckles, shaking his head. “I didn’t.”

“Neither did I,” Mingi adds, grin stretching across his features and causing his eyes to crinkle at the sides.

You turn to Seonghwa who just shakes his head in response.

“Wow, some friends you are,” you laugh, turning your gaze to a pouting San in the next moment. “Still want to be pinned to a wall?”

Suddenly, he can no longer meet your gaze, embarrassed sputters escaping his lips. Yet, he doesn’t deny it.

“Wait, have none of you ever been pinned to a wall?” You look around, seeing as they all shake their heads in response. “Received a kabedon by someone you like?” More denials fall from their lips. “Then, I’m assuming you’ve never been lifted against a wall, either?”

“Can’t say that I have.” Jongho grumbles, lips tugging downwards in the corners as if the thought greatly distresses him.

“Seriously, you guys are missing out.” You take a sip of your drink. “Though, can’t say that I have, either. In fiction, though, apparently I’m a goddamn feather.”

A brief moment of silence passes over all of you as you collectively take sips of your drinks. Then, you’re turning to look at San.

“Do you still want to be pinned to the wall?” Your brow quirks as you ask him this for the second time, noticing how more than just San shifts slightly in his spot.

He averts his gaze, suddenly finding the coffee table between you the most fascinating thing. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” you stand, stretching your back out as you do so. “Let’s go.”

His head immediately raises to look at you, mild shock pulling at his features. It’s most apparent in the slight way his eyes widen, lips parting as he meets your gaze.

“I’ll pin you to a wall if you want,” you shrug stepping out of the sitting area and cracking your neck. “I am taller than you, and as long as you’re okay with it-“

“No fair! How come San is the only one that gets to be pinned to a wall by you?” Wooyoung complains, quite loudly at that.

“Oh, my offer is open to all of you,” you huff out an amused laugh. “If you want.”

The way you see them all straighten has the grin on your lips widening.

“I can’t promise I’m who you want to pin you, but just picture it’s someone else if you’d like.” You shrug. “But I’m willing if you are.”

Wooyoung physically hops off of the couch before attempting to male his way over to you. Only, he gets harshly pulled back down into his spot by Yeosang in the next moment.

You quirk a brow.

“The offer was for San first,” Yeosang grumbles, and though he tries to hide it, his cheeks begin turning the slightest bit darker as a blush dusts his features.

“So,” you trail off, tilting your head slightly to the side, “is that a ‘yes’?”

Both Yunho and Hongjoong quirk their bros at you, while Wooyoung nods eagerly. At the way Seonghwa, Yeosang, and Mingi blush, you know you have them, too.

“Well, if you’re offering,” Jongho shrugs, tossing the remaining contents of his drink back as he settles fully into the couch.

Wordlessly, Mingi pours him another one.

“Make it sound like I’m forcing you, why don’t you,” you snort, rolling your eyes. “Just say you don’t want to do it. You don’t have to give in to peer pressure, bubs.”

“Oh no, I’d love to see this.” Jongho grins, a sudden gleam to his eyes.

“Well, I’m first!” San immediately pops up onto his feet.

You grin, “someone really is eager.”

“It’s only been the biggest fantasy of his for-“

A hand gets clamped over Wooyoung’s mouth curtesy of Yeosang.

If your eyes could go any wider, you swear that they’d fall right out of your head.

“How do you want me?” San asks, moving beside you near the wall.

“Those are dangerous words, Sannie boy,” you smirk, turning fully to face him and noticing how he glances up into your eyes. “This is all about your comfortability though. The second you want space, or anything, you let me know. Okay?”

“Okay,” he nods his understanding.

“Do you want a full immersive experience, or just what you signed up for?” You ask, taking a step towards him while he takes one back.

The sudden dark look in your eyes makes his lips part, excitement strumming through his veins. At the way you quirk a brow at him, he realizes he still has yet to answer you.

“Uh,” how is his brain already this fuzzy when you haven’t even done anything to him yet? You’ve been close before, San clinging to you more often than not. However, it’s just so much different when he’s on the receiving end for once. So much more intense.

“Immersive! Immersive! Immersive!” Wooyoung begins to chant, followed shortly by both Mingi and Yunho. Even Seonghwa cannot help but to lowly add in his voice to the chanting.

San swallows, licking his lips. “Immersive.”

A cheer rising up from the other males in the room greets your ears, and it only serves to boost your ego for the moment.

Again, you quirk a brow. “Ready?”

A nod is all the confirmation you get before you’re bringing a hand up to firmly press it against the wall beside his head. The sound of your palm making contact is synonymous with the way his breath hitches as he watches you lean into him.

Slowly, you bring your opposite hand up to rest your fingers lightly against his chin. Your eyes hood over as you lift his head to make sure he’s staring deeply into your gaze.

You shift closer, the corner of your lips quirking upwards.

San’s breathing deepens, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows again thickly. Briefly, his eyes dart down to your lips. A fact of which, you seem to notice.

“Quite a different feeling when you’re on the receiving end, huh, Sannie?” You lean in, breath ticking the shell of his ear.

A shudder wracks his entire body, goosebumps trailing up his arms as his chest just brushes against your own with each breath he takes. His lips clamp shut, suppressing the moan that wants to escape him.

“Do you want to wrap your leg around-“

The question hasn’t even finished leaving your mouth when you feel him lift his left leg to loop it around your side. Your hand immediately finds purchase on his thigh, and you can physically feel the way he trembles within your touch.

A chorus of ‘oh’s echoes behind you.

“Shut up!” San snaps, turning his head to glare at his group mates.

Unfortunately for him, the movement causes you to drop his leg, backing off of him shortly after.

San’s lucky to turn back around to face the others the moment you move off of him, for you fail to see the way he slaps the sides of his cheeks with both hands. The way he can feel his skin continuing to heat beneath his own touch only adds to the fire burning within his soul from these turn of events.

He knows you said he could picture anybody pinning him, but the fact that it was you somehow made it so much more intense. It was - you are - perfect in every way, and this has just made him realize that. How could you fit together so easily, like this was a position you had always been meant to be in with him?

The worst part is, it’s over, and he may never get to experience this type of euphoria again.

“Alright, who’s next?” You turn to the remaining males, not noticing the crisis San seems to be having against the wall behind you.

“Oh, me, me!” Wooyoung, again, eagerly pops up from the couch, only to be dragged back down by Jongho this time.

“I’ll go,” Yunho surprises you by standing to his feet. At the curious looks both Hongjoong and Yeosang send him, he’s shrugging. “What? I’m intrigued.”

“Alright, Beanpole,” you motion him over using two fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture. “You’re next.”

He mumbles slightly under his breath about you calling him ‘Beanpole’ again, stating how you’re no different, seeing as you’re practically eye-level with him. Though, with the way he eagerly steps over Mingi who still rests on the floor, you can tell he’s attempting to maintain his composure for now.

Finally, San walks back to his spot beside Seonghwa, almost as if in a daze. Only when the elder male pats the younger on the shoulder does he seemingly snap out of it. In the next moment, San sits back on the ground, pulling a pillow over his lap as he leans forward.

“If my back gives out, you guys are paying for my medical bills,” you casually comment, turning towards Yunho who leans against the wall.

“Are you planning to lift us?” Hongjoong asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Possibly,” you shrug. “Depends on if you want the full immersive experience or not. I’ve got ideas for all of you.”

“Oh, so you’ve thought about this before?” Yunho’s familiar smug grin begins to pull at his features.

“Not necessarily,” you hum. “It’s just more interesting this way.”

“Then, please,” he meets your gaze, “immerse me.”

The moment those words escape his lips, you’re in front of him. Your hands gently grab his waist, before stepping directly into him. Your brow quirks just as you hear his breath hitch.

“When I tell you to jump, jump.” You say, a playful gleam shining in your eyes.

He nods.

“Jump.”

The moment your hands settle on the skin of his thighs, you press yourself fully against him. The way your chest feels rising and falling against his own sets his heart fluttering in his chest. Not to mention the way you quite literally have him pinned against the wall in your arms.

His eyes are wide, breath hitching in his throat as the full reality of the situation comes crashing down upon him. Never has he imagined that he could be the one being held against the wall like this. The way your eyes shine as they continue to stare into his own only make it that much more intense.

Yunho swallows as he hears you giggle.

Shit, he really wasn’t prepared for this.

“What’s the matter, Yuyu?” You tease, breath tickling the skin of his neck as you lean into him. “Tall girl caught your tongue?”

A few hoots and hollers are heard from the others as Yunho’s ears turn bright red. His lips part in answer, but no words escape him, too immersed in the feeling of your warm, plush body pressing against his own. The way that you’re suddenly slightly even taller than before as you hold him against the wall, his legs wrapped around your waist, has a pleasant shiver running down his spine.

A moment later, and you’re dropping his legs back to the floor.

You smile, patting the side of his gobsmacked face gently. “There ya go, beanpole. Now you know what it’s like.”

Turning around, you see Mingi practically rush to his feet. “Me next.”

You chuckle at his eagerness as Yunho slowly walks back to his spot, caught in a trance.

Just as San was before him, Yunho cannot help but marvel at the feeling of having you pin him to the wall. He never really thought about it before, and it was simply to sate that curiosity in his mind, but the fact that it was you, and that he enjoyed it immensely because it was you, is making his head spin.

He swallows thickly.

“Come on, Big Boy,” you extend your hand out to Mingi in offering, to which he gladly takes.

A giddy smile rests on his features as you guide him over to the wall. The eagerness you can sense radiating off of him is contagious, and you cannot help but to mirror his expression.

Your lips part in question, but Mingi beats you to it.

“Immersive.” He confirms with a firm nod, only causing you to chuckle lightly in response.

“I think it’s safe to say we all want the immersive experience right now,” Seonghwa voices, and you spare a glance back at the group to see all of them eagerly nodding at you.

“And here I thought I was touch starved,” you joke, a giggle to your words.

“Hey!” Wooyoung complains. “When you have a pretty lady offering to pin you to the wall, call us, and then see how you feel.”

Compliments from them, especially Wooyoung, are not unusual. However, something about this time feels different when he says this. Perhaps it’s the way he never breaks eye contact with you, or perhaps it’s the way you can just feel how sincere his words are. Still, it shocks you to your core.

You let out an amused puff, turning back to face the male trembling in excitement against the wall.

“Woah, there, Big Boy,” you grin. “Don’t be turning full Chihuahua on me.”

“Oh, leave the poor man alone,” Hongjoong joins in on the teasing. “He’s just excited.”

“It’s not like I’m giving him a lap dance.” You chuckle, stepping in closer as you watch Mingi’s face turn a bright red.

“Are you offering?” Wooyoung sounds just a tad too hopeful.

“Don’t even joke about that, Woo,” San throws the pillow in his lap at his friend.

“Yeah, cause you probably wouldn’t be able to hide your boner next time.” Yeosang deadpans.

A beat of silence.

Laughter erupts throughout the room as San turns bright red once more, stuttering out denials all the while.

“You won’t be laughing when it’s your turn!” He shouts, pulling his knees up to his chest as a pout pulls at his lips.

“Hey, no judgement here,” you grin, raising your hand nonchalantly in his direction. “Huge confidence boost when knowing you can turn someone on like that.”

San sticks his tongue out in Wooyoung’s direction as if to say, ‘so, there.’

You chuckle once more, taking the time to casually lean against the wall right beside Mingi using your one hand. The way you see his whole body freeze for a moment as his breath gets caught in his throat has a smug grin pulling at your features.

“By the way, are we still on for movie night next week?” You ask casually, completely ignoring the male beside you for the moment.

“I swear, if you make us marathon Star Wars again,” Hongjoong jokingly turns to glare at Seonghwa.

“Oh, give the guy a break,” you comment. “It’s his favourite series.”

“Have you seen the new Lego Death Star that just came out?” His eyes light up, looking around hopefully at each of the males scattered around the room.

Yunho nods, somewhat aware of what the elder male is talking about as the topic of Legos is discussed.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Mingi finally calming down. Though, the slight pout that pulls onto his features has you leaning in to his ear.

“Don’t worry, Min, I haven’t forgotten about you,” you whisper, lips but a hairsbreadth from his ear. He shivers again, and you smirk. “Immersive, remember?”

In the blink of an eye, you’ve shifted your position to stand directly in front of the male. Your head is still buried in his neck, nose barely brushing against his skin as his breath hitches once more. Again, your hands settle on his hips as you lean into him, and he swears he can feel you smirking against the side of his throat.

The room goes silent, watching the scene unfold before them. The others seem just as caught off guard as Mingi is by your sudden shift in position.

Yet, why are Yeosang, San, Wooyoung, and Hongjoong suddenly all feeling jealous?

You pull away form Mingi’s neck only to move in impossibly closer. Your one leg slips between his own, nose brushing against his as the corner of your lips tugs upwards. In the next moment, you’re lifting a hand to cup the side of his face.

The way your thumb tenderly strokes along his cheekbone as you step away mirrors how your touch fades from his skin. A fact of which he doesn’t like all that much, body attempting to follow yours as you pull away.

“Someone likes attention more than I thought,” your voice is light, a teasing glint to your eyes as Mingi begins stuttering before you.

“You can’t blame the man,” Jongho takes another sip of his drink. “You’re acting hella intimate with us all of a sudden.”

“I said immersive, remember,” you playfully wink at the youngest, noticing how he hides the lower half of his face behind his glass in the next second. “If you don’t want it, I won’t do it. I told you, I’m not trying to make any of you uncomfortable.”

“Well, more for me, then,” this time when Wooyoung stands up, neither Jongho nor Yeosang stops him. “Make it as immersive as you’d like, Darling.”

“As long as you can handle it, Baby Boy,” the moment the words slip passed your lips, a chorus of ‘oh’s reach your ears again.

Just as Wooyoung happily bounds over to you, you notice Mingi trudging back over to his spot on the floor.

Mingi cannot help himself. He’s distracted, mind reeling with the revelations of the past events that he’s just experienced. The only problem is, now, he wants more. He wants you to hold him against the wall like you did Yunho. He wants you lean into him again, just like you did with San. Only this time, he wants to feel your lips on his own.

He shakes his head. What is he thinking? You’re one of their closest friends. He shouldn’t be thinking about all the other ways that you can pin him, and then how he can pin you to the wall. Perhaps, even to the bed…

“Oh, this is going to be good,” San shifts forward, eagerly watching as his best friend finally gets to experience what he did only a short while ago.

Wooyoung is eager. In fact, he’s the most visibly eager out of all of them so far. Well, that you can tell. He even goes so far as to reach out for you, back not quite pressed against the wall.

Before he can so much as touch you, though, you have his wrists in your hands, pinning him to the wall. You lean into him, body towering over his smaller frame as a choked moan manages to escapes his lips. From the way red begins to creep up his neck, you know that he did not mean for that to come out so suddenly.

“Did I say you could touch me?” Your voice lowers, head tilting to the side almost mockingly.

His eyes go wide, and you’re surprised how willingly he shakes his head ‘no’.

The corner of your lips raise. “Good boy.”

This time, the moan that escapes him is much louder than the first. You watch on in amusement as he begins squirming beneath your hold, hips shifting slightly against the wall as you keep the lower half of your body distanced from his. He whines slightly when he realizes you aren’t budging.

Behind you, the rest of the guy’s jaws drop.

“You were just waiting for this, weren’t you?” You hum lowly, feigning concern for his current state. “Desperately wanting someone to hold you like this against the wall?”

Wooyoung bites down on his bottom lip, nodding shamelessly.

You step in closer, and you can physically feel how his body melts into yours. You lean into his neck, lips ghosting the skin just below his ear. “Good boy.”

The moment you back away from him, Wooyoung lets out a whine in protest. As soon as you release your hold on his wrists, he reaches for you, but you easily dodge his hands. A chuckle falls from your lips as you see him pout.

“So,” Hongjoong’s voice draws your attention to his smirking features across the room, “you’re a domme.”

“What was your first clue?” You quirk a brow back at him, amusement dancing in your eyes. In the next second, you shake your head, noticing how Wooyoung begins to walk back to his spot in a haze, that pout still tugging on his lips. “When I want to be, I can do both. Not that any of you will get to experience either.”

“Not that we’d want to,” Jongho rolls his eyes playfully.

You point in his direction, “hurtful.”

“Never say never,” Seonghwa breathes, seemingly lost in his own world for the moment.

Your brow raises, mild surprise painting your features as he seemingly comes back to reality. The tips of his ears begin to go red once he’s realized what he’s just said.

“Well, I think our eldest here should go next, then.” Yunho claps the male on his shoulder, giving him a firm shove forward all the while.

“Yeah, come on, Hwa,” San encourages, a knowing gleam in his eyes. “It’s much more fun than it looks.”

“It looked to me like you were having a lot of fun, there, San,” Seonghwa’s eyes sharpen slightly as he pushes himself to his feet.

“I can’t watch,” Yeosang shakes his head playfully, standing to his feet and heading down your hallway in the next second.

Your eyes follow the movement, amusement shining within.

Seonghwa stepping towards you draws your attention.

“I’ve never been a fan of getting pinned to a wall.” He states, somewhat bluntly.

“I don’t have to pin you to the wall, you know.” You grin, nudging his shoulder lightly with your own.

“I thought the whole point of this was to ‘show us what it feels like’,” Jongho comments, placing his now empty glass onto the coffee table before him.

“There are other ways to encapsulate the same types of feelings,” you reply, placing a gentle hand onto Seonghwa’s shoulder.

“And just how do you plan on doing that?” He raises a brow curiously at you.

“Wrap your arms around my shoulders,” you begin, already moving to lean into him to prepare yourself for what you’re going to do. “I’ve seen videos of you guys doing this with each other, but,” you shrug briefly, “context.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrows, but he still does what you ask of him.

The moment you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders, you’re bending down and lifting him into your arms.

“Oh, Jesus, I wasn’t prepared,” you wobble slightly, now carrying him bridal style in your grasp. “How the fuck do you guys make this look so easy.”

“Are you saying I’m heavy?” Seonghwa pouts, resting quite comfortably in your arms for the moment.

“No, I’m saying I’m surprised my noodle arms haven’t given out on me yet without the wall for support.” You reply, a slight chuckle to your words.

“Should we start preparing those medical bills of yours?” Hongjoong teases, though you notice there’s a certain glint in his eyes that has never been there before. Well, not that you’ve ever noticed. A glint that has only appeared due to the fact that he’s witnessing you be so close with the others. Others that aren’t him.

“Hey, can I borrow a sweater?” Yeosang calls from down the hallway. “I’m cold.”

“Go for it!” You call back, shifting your hold on Seonghwa slightly as he peers out at the rest of the guys while still held in your arms.

“You know, you’re right,” he hums, nuzzling himself deeper into you. “This is quite nice.”

“It’s the old ‘Uno reverse card’,” you chuckle, setting him back onto his feet just as Yeosang comes meandering back into the room. “You don’t realize you want it until it’s happened to you.”

Yeosang stops just beside you, blinking at the way Seonghwa slowly returns to his spot. The way the eldest glances almost longingly back at you from over his shoulder while doing so does not go unnoticed by any.

Turning your head, you finally notice that Yeosang has opted to clothe himself in one of your largest hoodies. The material quite literally drowns him, the hem reaching the middle of his thighs.

“Now, this is what I’m talking about,” you motion to Yeosang’s body, nodding approvingly.

“Yeah, yeah, we all know you like Yeosang,” San rolls his eyes, cheeks puffing slightly as he rests his chin on his knees.

“First of all, I like all of you,” you reply, a playful snort escaping you as you smile. “No, I meant the clothing difference. This is what ‘swimming in their clothes’ means. It’s nice to be on the receiving end instead.”

“But you’re not the one wearing the clothes?” Mingi’s brow furrows, confusion shining on his features.

“You know what I mean,” you wave him off. “Literally, I can understand certain size kink fics now where the character fucks their love interest in their hoodie, and nothing but their hoodie.”

“Are you saying you want to fuck me in nothing but your hoodie?” Yeosang quirks a brow, a wide grin tugging at his features.

“Depends,” you hum in response, and you watch as Hongjoong spits out his drink, choking on the liquid in the next second.

“On?” He tilts his head curiously, blinking innocently.

“You wanna wear my thigh highs, too?” The way you see his eyes nearly bulge out of his head at your words has all of you bursting into laughter.

However, what you fail to see is how Yeosang goes quiet, cheeks flaring with colour.

“Well, this is certainly a game of truth or dare I never expected to get into.” Wooyoung cackles, tossing another drink back.

“I think we’re learning more about your interests tonight than in all of the years we’ve known you.” Yunho laughs, leaning back in his chair.

“You’ve never asked,” you shrug his words off casually, mirth dancing within your eyes.

“Who’s turn is it, anyways?” Yeosang grumbles, hiding his hands deep within the sleeves of your sweater.

“Yours.” Your response causes another round of heat to spread across his cheeks.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Wooyoung nudging Jongho beside him. A male of which is clearly annoyed by the elder’s actions, but who nudges back, nonetheless.

“I don’t know how I feel about being pinned to a wall,” he raises his hands in front of himself in caution, backing away from you slowly.

The way his hands are hidden by the long sleeves of your sweater has you smiling lightly.

“If you don’t want me to, that’s quite alright,” you reply with a nod in understanding. “Like I said, I’m not about to force you guys into something you don’t want.”

“Oh, believe me,” Wooyoung chuckles, hiding somewhat behind Jongho as Yeosang takes a threatening step towards the younger male in warning. “He wants it.”

“I’ll believe it when he says it,” you tilt your head in acknowledgment in Yeosang’s direction, meeting his gaze once more.

The room goes silent, all of you turning to look at Yeosang once more.

“Uh,” he blinks, turning to look at any one of the other guys for help. Only, the way they simply watch on in glee lets him know they’re not going to do anything.

“Welp,” you turn back to the seven guys seated around your living room. “Maknae, leader, which one of you is next?”

“I’ll do it.” Yeosang’s voice from behind you draws your attention to him once more.

“Oh?” The smug grin on your face says it all, and he swallows thickly.

“Not against the wall, though.” He replies.

“That’s fine,” you reply with a nod, walking closer to him in your next breath.

You motion him closer, and he steps into you quite eagerly. Though, he does attempt to hide it, he doesn’t do a very good job.

“When I tell you to jump, jump into me,” you whisper lowly into his ear, and the way you feel him shiver as you lean away from him has that familiar smirk tugging at your lips. “Jump.”

Yeosang hesitates only a moment before quite literally leaping into your embrace. Your hands come to settle on his thighs, pulling him closer into you as he wraps his arms around your neck.

“Kind of different when you’re on the other end, isn’t it?” You smile, eyes crinkling as you watch him nod, somewhat amazed for the moment.

The way you can feel him tighten his legs around your waist has you chuckling, turning back around to face the other guys.

“This is… different than I thought it would be,” he mumbles into your ear, chin resting on your shoulder as he buried his face into the side of your neck. “It’s quite nice.”

The way you raise you eyebrows in agreement says it all, that same knowing look shining on your features.

Slowly, you lower Yeosang back to his feet, but he doesn’t release his hold from around your shoulders. Of course, you lean down slightly, allowing him to embrace you for as long as he wants.

“Another perk to it is simple things, like hugs.” You say, just as Yeosang finally pulls away from you.

Of course, you notice how he avoids your gaze now as he walks back to his spot on the couch.

“What do you mean?” Mingi inquires, knocking back the rest of his drink shortly after.

“Chest height.” You shrug, to which he immediately starts coughing at your answer. “What? You’re telling me you wouldn’t take full advantage of burying your face in your significant other’s chest if you could?”

You notice the gears in San’s head turning, before a devious look is shining in his gaze. “Does that mean I can have a hug, then?”

He starts to move, only for Hongjoong to reach over and quite harshly tug him back to the ground.

“Ow,” San begins to rub at his ass. “The fuck was that for.”

“You’re not as slick as you think you are,” Jongho rolls his eyes, standing up from the couch next.

“She didn’t deny it!” San counters, pointing in your direction all the while.

You shrug, “maybe next time.”

The way they all turn to look at you, eyes full of both mild surprise, but also excitement has you chuckling in response.

“If that excites you, you guys should all really try thigh riding,” you joke, and you notice how Jongho stumbles over his own two feet just before reaching you. “Oh, someone’s eager.”

“Shut up.” He grumbles, leaning back against the wall closest to you with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that a challenge?” You quirk a brow, turning fully towards him now as you take a step forward.

“I doubt you’re up for it,” he quips, the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

“You’re right,” you smirk, hand landing right beside his head as you lean into him. The way his breath hitches has your voice dropping slightly. “I’ve never really liked brats, but that doesn’t mean I’m not up for taming one.”

A mixture of loud, boisterous laughter, and pointed ‘oh’s can be heard from the others around you.

You huff, clearly amused by how silent Jongho gets. His arms fall to his sides as you step in closer, noticing how red begins to creep up his neck as he attempts to maintain his composure.

“What’s the matter, Baby Bear?” You feign concern, your nose brushing against his neck as you lean further into him. “All bark, and no bite?” He shivers as your breath caresses his skin. “Pity.”

His one hand moves to grab your hip, but you’re much quicker.

In the blink of an eye, you have his wrist pinned against the wall, your one leg sliding between his own.

“I wouldn’t try that, if I were you,” with the way your head tilts and the angle you find yourself in, you manage to be looking up at him through your lashes.

Jongho has never felt smaller in his entire life. The position he finds himself in with you, combined with your words and the way your looking at him has him melting into your touch. So, when his body sinks slightly, allowing himself to rest on top of your thigh between his own, you let him.

The worst part for him, though, is when you pull away.

Jongho just manages to catch himself before he stumbles forward, not expecting you to release him so suddenly. He can only stand there, staring intently at the floor for a good thirty seconds in order to compose himself as you turn back to the other guys.

“Goddammit,” he curses lowly. “How are you so good at this?”

You giggle, and the sound fills the room with a vibrance unlike anything before. Yet, why are their hearts suddenly racing?

“It’s nothing more than the shock of your first time experiencing something like this, probably,” you shrug him off, proud smile pulling at your features. “Or you’re all just secretly in love with me.”

This time, it’s Seonghwa who spits out his drink in response, choking on his breath soon afterwards. Comfortingly, Yunho pats his upper back.

“I’m just playing,” you chuckle, arms crossed loosely over your chest as you shake your head.

“Seriously, you were right,” Wooyoung voices, staring directly at you while Jongho slowly moves back to his seat. “I never knew I needed this until now.”

“San was right to want this,” Yeosang corrects, shooting a brief look at the aforementioned male out of the corner of his eyes.

“I’m glad I could be of service,” you salute lightheartedly, two fingers pressing to the side of your forehead before letting out a small click of your tongue as you flick your wrist.

“Hang on, you’re not done yet.” Hongjoong stands to his feet, and immediately, there’s a sudden tension that fills the room.

“Never said that I was, Captain,” you wink playfully, and you almost miss the way he loses his footing just as he steps over Mingi for the moment. Though, you chalk that up to him simply misplacing his balance.

The moment he steps before you, a silence unlike ever before fills the room. All of the guys watch on eagerly to see what you have planned for their leader, and just how he will react to it, too.

“So, I take it you want the immersive experience?” You quirk a brow teasingly.

“Give me everything you’ve got,” he replies, breathlessly.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that, yet, mister,” you poke his upper chest lightly, noticing how he tilts his head upwards slightly to meet your gaze.

“We’ll save that for later, then,” he grins, noticing how you slowly begin to back him up into the wall.

“Who said there will ever be a later?” You hum, tilting your head slightly as you watch him lightly hit the wall behind him.

His breath hitches as he looks up at you through his lashes, the corner of his lips tugging upwards slightly.

“I just did.”

This time, when you place your hand beside his head, it’s slow. The movements are precise, keeping your arm straight for the moment as you casually lean into him.

“Oh, really?” You quirk a brow. “What makes you so sure that I’ll agree?”

Hongjoong smirks, his one eyebrow twitching upwards slightly. “I’m positive you’re just as curious as I am.”

“Am I?” You hum, taking a step in closer to him and noticing how his breathing deepens. “Curious of what? Are you sure you’re not just projecting, Joong?”

The way you say his name, your lips curving around the one syllable, is like music to his ears. He cannot stop himself, he goes to reach for you, a shameless whine getting caught in his throat.

Like every time before, you’re quicker. Only, this time, instead of pinning his wrist to the wall beside his head, you raise it, holding it above him as you lean over his entire body.

“You boys are very touchy tonight,” you tut, shaking your head as you lean the slightest bit more into him.

“Can you blame us?” He replies, staring up into your eyes. “This is the first time we’ve experienced a temptation like this before.”

The room remains deadly silent, as if the other seven are fully agreeing with the words Hongjoong is speaking to you right now.

“Yes, the heat of the moment can do that to people,” you chuckle, stepping the slightest bit closer to him so that he can feel your body heat against his own.

It’s slight, but you feel him arch forward in your grip, pressing his body flush against your own.

“We both know it’s more than just that,” his tone is low, sultry as he melts into your touch.

The corner of your lip quirks upwards smugly, pushing him flush against the wall.

“Is it really?” You feign innocence, leaning in to press your forehead against his own. Your noses brush. “I guess we’ll never know.”

In the blink of an eye, you’ve stepped away from him, releasing his wrist and letting it fall back to his side.

“Well, that was fun!” You chirp, completely unaware of how Hongjoong’s dark gaze never leaves your figure even for a second as you move to finally return to your own spot.

He licks his lips, clearing his throat lightly. Taking a step back towards the seating area, he blinks, refocussing his vision. The sound of laughter reaches his ears, and you all continue on as if nothing happened.

Yet, how can they just act like nothing happened when you’ve fulfilled desires within them that they didn’t even know that they had? This has certainly made them all change the way they view things, especially the way they see you.

All that they do know, is that now, they want you. In ways more than just a friend should.

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