Black Lives Still Matter

Something You Do That Turns The LADS Men On (including Valko)

Caleb

Caleb loves when you look for him in crowded spaces, unconsciously craving the safety and familiarity of your childhood friend and adoptive brother. Your eyes scan the crowd nervously, shining in relief when they lock with violet ones. The way you scuttle over to him, grabbing for purchase on the side of his jacket or interlocking your fingers with his, makes his throat tighten and blood rush downwards. In the end, even your subconscious brain knows that he is the one for you. Only Caleb could protect you and keep you safe. The fact that you weren’t even aware of the way you gravitated towards him made him want to take you right there, whispering sweet nothings as he gives his meimei exactly what he knows she craves deep down.

A ride home

When the warmth of Sylus's hand was always your anchor to this world after every battle.

୨୧⠀⠀˙⠀⠀˖⠀Tags: light angst, mild hurt/comfort. Sylus picking you up after a mission. Reader is MC.

୨୧⠀⠀˙⠀⠀˖ Requested by Scarlet Benoit, based on the prompt "Sometimes the hand holding your own is the only thing that connects you to the world" by by: ❀

Fandom: Love and Deep Space Ship: Sylus x Reader Rating: G wc: 960~ A/N: Shoutout to all my hyper independent girlies who refuse to let anyone take care of us but secretly wish they would push for it anyway ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

𑣲☾

Sylus already knows the mood you'll come home in. He knows the moment the clock passes 5pm that you'll be working late, mostly likely to deal with bullshit that has nothing to do with you. But nonetheless, you will handle it anyway. Flawlessly, by the way.

He loves that about you. Your independence, your motivation, your competence. All of it makes the loyalty woven into his soul even stronger.

But he also knows your secret.

The secret that beneath the finely pressed uniform, the sheer mastery in battle, and the absolute fury in the face of ignorance… You really just want a single place to feel safe enough to take a breath.

Sylus is happy to handle things at home. Even if that just means hiring someone for the cooking and cleaning considering he has his own business to attend to, but it is always worth it. Especially on the nights he hears the front door slam shut and the weight of your boots stomp up the stairs. He can feel the frustration radiating from your body from the other side of the door.

When it finally swings open, you stalk into the shared sanctuary, flop onto the lounge and snatch the boots off your feet before flinging them into the open closet.

"Long day, kitten?"

To anyone else, it would sound like Sylus was mocking or teasing you with the slow drawl in his tone. He doesn't bother to look up from the book in his hand and you don't bother to answer that question. Instead you launch into a deeply passionate rant about the asinine bureaucracy of the Hunter's Association.

"Why do I need to file 4 versions of the same report? They can't be copies either, they have to have different verbiage because they're going to different people with different purposes." You wave your hands wildly in the air, voice shrill and mocking as you stalk into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

The bathroom door remains open as you continue ranting. "It makes no fucking sense! I took this job to help Hunters not file shitty reports to managers that DONT EVEN READ THEM."

After a solid 15 minutes beneath the steaming hot cascade of water and the aroma of your favorite soaps turning suffocating, your ranting finally dies down. Sylus puts his book away as you emerge from the makeshift sauna wrapped in a towel and looking like a fresh prune.

The bed shifts as you flop onto the soft, pillowy comforter with a deep, existentially exhausted sigh. Your body aches and you hadn't even seen a wanderer today. The weight of ignorance and idiocy settles deep in your bones.

You groan in frustration, your voice nearly pained and eyes exasperated as you turn to him. "Sy, they don't even read the reports…"

"I know, kitten. Would you like me to take care of them for you?"

You hold back a laugh that escapes as an obnoxious snort. He can't make you laugh right now. You want to stay mad.

"I am all too familiar with corporate bureaucracy so I understand the mind numbing mundanity of it all." His voice is gentle and reassuring, but you aren't having it.

"Yeah, but at least you are the boss. I thought I would be gaining something, reputation, influence, anything. I barely even got a raise out of this promotion." The last word framed with bunny ears and a grimace.

Sylus chuckles. "Yes, but I still have to play the game sometimes."

Your anger has long ebbed away, pouring right down the drain but your muscles remain tense and your brow furrowed.

Sylus wordlessly lays down beside you, leaning in to kiss the wrinkle between your brows. As if his affection could will away your frustrations alone. "Why don't you take tomorrow off and relax. We can go to dinner too."

You frown and that wrinkle appears again. Sylus doesn't wait to kiss it away again with a knowing smile.

He knows you have a love/hate relationship with his money. You know he loves when he can spoil you, but there is always that hyper independent part of you that resists being pampered, even though you know you wholeheartedly deserve it.

You scoff, feigning annoyance as your face turns away. "You know I can't just sit around and relax, Sylus, that doesn't work for me."

Perfectly soft lips press against your cheek, beautiful nose nuzzling into your hair. "Come now, kitten. You know me better than that. Take the day off, take Callie and the black card, and enjoy your day. You work so hard. Do this for me."

His voice is a deep purr and his syrupy words settle right into the cracks of your armor. He mouths his way down your neck, teeth grazing your skin playfully as you pretend to consider his offer. He knows how much you loved that damn Corvette. Driving Callie was a treat that you reserve for special occasions, which you suppose impending burnout called for a treat.

"Well… I guess I do need a new dress for the party next weekend… And my nails are horrendous, right now… Fineeee." You grumble as you turn to face him, a knowing smile graces his lips as he watches you with red eyes dripping in adoration.

You were the one going on a shopping spree in a brand new car that hasn't even been released to the public, yet he looked as though he was the real winner here.

"Thank you for doing me this honor." Sylus whispers against your lips.

You laugh quietly as your fingers weave their way into his hair, closing what little gap remained between you.

Synopsis: reader who's obsessed with sylus's gorgeous, beautiful, majestic and gem like eyes and never stops to show their love for them<3

Warning(s): its all in bullet points, lots of fluff, sfw, a tiny bit of angst bcz i love suffering, established relationship, reader is gender neutral btw♡

Have ever seen eyes so beautiful, you just can't bring yourself to look away from them after looking at them, because they are so deep and absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous that you wanna drown in them? Well, now you do, cause Sylus's eyes have a whole damn universe in them, and they're your universe too.

You always love to caress Sylus's cheekbone, slowly moving your fingers near the area of his eyes, gently caressing it.

Even when he's asleep, you love snuggling next to him and caressing, touching his eyes and his pretty lashes. (gawd his lashes are genuinely breathtaking)

Sometimes, when Sylus is sleeping, the scar in the inner corner of his right eye becomes even more visible, as he's relaxed and vulnerable near you, and you can't help but gently, very gently, trace it like a feather. Before you know it, you have tears falling from your eyes without you even noticing, until they fall down your cheeks. Why did seeing that scar make you feel so much pain...?

When you and Sylus got intimate for the first time, he covered your eyes, not for any sexual reasons, but because he was afraid that his eye and the aether core in it would scare you. Although you gave him reassurance about it all, thinking about those moments makes your heart ache from how considerate he was of you and your comfort.

You love to see Sylus's eyes glow when he's hungry for you, the way his right eye glows as he's kissing you deeply, with so much love that it makes you feel weak in your knees, before lifting you up and carrying you to the bed, as you instantly wrap your legs around his waist and hold onto him tightly.

Sometimes, you'd be so lost staring at his eyes that you won't even notice until Sylus pokes you while looking at you with that signature smug grin. "You look distracted, sweetie." Smug bastard, he's gonna enjoy teasing you about being lost in him and his eyes for the whole day, and more.

Sometimes, Sylus would be talking and talking, and you would just lean up and kiss his eyes (not inside the eyeball ok? I mean like near it or when he closes it you kiss on top of it) and he would be a little surprised, but immediately pull you back closer to him as he feels you pull away after kissing his eye.

This one is fem!sylus x fem!reader

One time, you BEGGED Sylus to let you do makeup on her eyes, bcz she has the prettiest eyes ever, and after hours of pestering her and begging her, she finally agreed. You sat her down in front of the vanity and did ur magic: dark red lipstick, a mix of brown, black, red, and golden eyeshadow lightly applied, making her eyes look even sharper than they already are, and some soft blush on her cheeks (you said you'll only put makeup on her eyes, but having her here, you can't help but do the whole face). And ZOOWEEMAMA, the sight was so enchanting, you kept staring at her for 9 minutes straight without blinking, before she snapped you back to reality as she pulled you closer, trapping you between her long legs as she sat in front of the vanity. "Kitten, are you done doing my makeup yet? Or was this just another excuse to stare at me?" Fuck, she caught you, but you can't help it when she's this damn hot and has the most gorgeous eyes, body, face, personality... EVERYTHING.

a/n: I have a very unhealthy amount of obsession with sylus's prewtty pwetty eyes so i had to write this😞 where are my fellow sylus eye lovers

Author’s Note: Thank you for this request, anon! Thank you for trusting me - it was such a fun prompt to explore. I hope I captured what you were picturing. Happy reading! 💝

Summary: Different bills. Different strangers. Same reaction : "I've got her."

A collection of Love and Deepspace drabbles centered around jealousy, possessiveness, and the LIs absolutely refusing to let another man pay for you.

Pairing: all the LIs (separately), including Valko x Reader

Content : established relationship, romance, domestic fluff, protective LIs, jealous LIs

MINE TO SPOIL

pairing ؛ zayne, caleb, sylus 𝒸ontains ؛ reader is very bitchy. brat taming. forced apology during sex. mocking.

zayne

the rain had been falling since late afternoon turning the glass walls of the hospital into sheets of blurred light that smeared the city into soft gold and grey.

by the time your shift as a hunter ended and the residual evol strain in your chest started to ache in that familiar nagging way the private wing was almost empty. most of the lights on the upper floors had already been dimmed, only the surgical floor still glowed like a distant stubborn star.

you had sent the message three hours earlier, mild chest tightness nothing urgent just the usual post-mission residue. you expected a junior resident maybe a quick scan and a polite dismissal. instead the reply that came back was short and unmistakable.

come to my office. 12:26 — zayne

you arrived seven minutes late on purpose.

the corridor smelled of antiseptic and rain-damp coats. his office door was ajar. inside the only light came from the desk lamp and the city bleeding through the windows in long watery streaks.

zayne sat behind the desk in his white coat sleeves rolled to the elbows glasses low on his nose as he finished signing a chart. the top two buttons of his shirt were undone a faint shadow of stubble darkened his jaw. he did not look up when you entered.

“you’re late,” he said.

“traffic.”

“there is no traffic at this hour.” he set the pen down with precise care and finally raised his eyes. the usual calm was there but something cooler sat beneath it sharp and quiet like the edge of a scalpel.

“sit on the examination table. clothes off from the waist down.”

you stayed standing a moment longer than necessary letting the silence stretch until it felt almost physical. his gaze did not waver.

“what if i don’t feel like being examined by you?” you asked voice light.

zayne stood slowly. he walked around the desk without hurry closed the door behind you with a soft click and locked it. when he turned back the clinical neutrality was still on his face but his eyes had gone sharp, glacial and intent.

“you’re being difficult,” he said evenly. “on purpose.”

you shrugged the picture of unbothered defiance. he simply pointed at the examination table.

you sat. the paper crinkled under your thighs as you stripped from the waist down folding your clothes with exaggerated care and setting them aside. you spread your legs wider than needed and looked at him waiting open and defiant under the low desk light.

zayne washed his hands at the small sink the water running longer than usual. he dried them pulled on a pair of gloves with two deliberate snaps and stepped between your knees.

the height of the table put him at the perfect angle. he rested one gloved hand on your inner thigh thumb stroking once slow and almost thoughtful before he parted you with two fingers.

you were already wet. he noticed immediately.

“elevated temperature. significant lubrication. pulse elevated.” his voice remained flat clinical even as two fingers pushed into you without warning curling against the front wall until your breath caught sharp in your throat. “and yet you chose to test me the moment you walked through the door.”

he worked you open with methodical thoroughness, scissoring pressing curling watching your face the entire time.

every time your hips tried to rock against his hand he stilled completely waiting until you settled then continued as if nothing had happened.

the gloves made every movement feel both impersonal and filthy, slick latex dragging against sensitive flesh.

“you’re gripping my fingers quite tightly,” he observed. “is the residual evol energy concentrating here or are you simply reacting to being examined by your doctor after hours while deliberately provoking him?”

you didn’t answer. you rolled your hips again bratty and deliberate.

zayne’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. he withdrew his fingers stripped the gloves and dropped them into the waste bin with a soft thud.

then he opened his own trousers with the same calm efficiency he used for everything else.

his cock was already hard, thick flushed the head shiny. he didn’t ask. he simply lined up and sank into you in one controlled relentless thrust that forced a sharp sound out of your throat.

he didn’t give you time to adjust.

he fucked you deep and exact every stroke measured never speeding up never letting you set the pace.

one hand stayed on your lower belly pressing down so he could feel himself moving inside you, the thick drag of him the way your body yielded then clenched.

the other braced beside your head on the paper-covered table. the wet sound of him sliding in and out filled the quiet office, obscene against the soft hush of rain outside.

“you wanted my attention,” he said voice still level almost conversational even as he drove into you hard enough to make the table creak. “you have it. now take the consequences.”

you tried to meet his thrusts. he pinned your hip and slowed deliberately until you were shaking with frustrated need every movement precise enough to keep you right on the edge without mercy.

“impatient and disrespectful. two traits i don’t tolerate in my patients.” a particularly deep thrust made your back arch. “you’ll come when i allow it. not before.”

he edged you with ruthless precision, bringing you right to the edge with the exact pressure of his thumb on your clit then stopping the second your walls began to flutter. he did it three times. four. until you were panting fingers twisted in the paper pride finally cracking under the steady rhythm of his hips.

“zayne—”

“doctor,” he corrected quietly never breaking rhythm. “while we’re in this room you address me properly.”

the correction landed harder than any raised voice could have. you bit your lip stubborn for another few strokes then finally gave in, voice rough and unsteady.

“doctor…”

he rewarded the word by fucking you through the first orgasm with the same measured intensity never losing that clinical rhythm even as your cunt clenched and fluttered around him. he didn’t stop.

he adjusted the angle pressed harder on your clit and forced a second climax out of you before the first had fully faded. your thighs shook. the paper under you was ruined wet and torn.

only then did the composure crack just slightly. his forehead dropped to yours. the next thrusts were deeper.

he came with a low restrained groan flooding you while his fingers kept working your oversensitive clit until a third trembling orgasm tore through you hard enough that your vision blurred, white sparks behind your eyes and the sound of your own broken breathing loud in the quiet room.

he stayed inside afterward breathing evenly against your mouth one hand still resting on your belly as if checking that everything was still in place.

when he finally pulled out the mess of his come and your own wetness spilled onto the paper in slow thick trails.

he cleaned you carefully with a warm cloth from the drawer movements thorough gentle touches now that the edge of his anger had been spent.

he helped you sit up steadying you when your legs felt unsteady. then he leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to the inside of your wrist the only real softness he allowed himself.

“next time you decide to test me,” he said quietly voice returning to its usual calm “schedule earlier. i prefer not to work this late unless the patient requires corrective measures.”

he paused adjusting his glasses with one clean hand.

“and you will address me properly when you walk through that door. understood?”

caleb

for three days he had treated you like something fragile.

after that last mission left your lip split and your ribs aching, caleb slipped into a version of himself that almost resembled the boy you once knew.

he prepared meals. he filled the tub. he examined every bruise with quiet hands and even quieter commands. he simply stayed near too near watching you with that flat measuring stare that never quite melted even when his touch did.

you were not troubled by any of it.

you simply chose to be difficult anyway.

by the third night the n109 safehouse had grown too still, restlessness crawled under your skin for no solid reason the kind of sharp aimless spite that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the urge to push.

so when he stepped out of the shower black towel low on his hips water still dripping from his hair and asked if you wanted him to rewrap the bandages around your ribs you did not bother looking up from your phone.

“im fine,” you said voice flat and dismissive. “stop asking. its annoying.”

caleb stopped in the doorway. “im not asking to annoy you. im making sure you dont tear the healing tissue.”

“whatever.” you scrolled farther deliberately cold. “youre being extra. just leave it.”

he stood motionless for a long breath. then he crossed the floor water still tracing the lines of his chest and halted directly in front of where you sat on the edge of the bed.

you finally lifted your eyes and kept going pure meanness with no real cause. “ extra. hovering. asking the same question every five minutes. its a lot. maybe go do something else instead of babysitting me.”

“youve been testing me ever since,” he said. “for three days ive given you gentleness. care. patience. and this is how you speak to me.”

you shrugged still half buried in your screen as if he were not standing there half naked and growing colder by the second. “im just saying. you dont have to keep checking on me like im going to fall apart.”

that was the final straw.

calebs hand closed around your phone and threw it onto the nightstand hard enough that the glass cracked against the wood.

a heartbeat later your back hit the mattress and his full weight pinned you down. the towel had already vanished. he shoved your shirt up ripped your shorts and underwear down your legs in one rough pull and forced your thighs apart with his knees.

“just saying,” he repeated against your mouth voice low and cold. “you were just being a bitch for no reason.”

two fingers shoved into you without warning. you were already slick had been from every careful glance and quiet touch and the sound that left him was almost furious.

“soaked. while you sat there dismissing every single thing ive done for you.” he curled his fingers hard pressing exactly where it made your hips jump. “you wanted a reaction? fine.”

he pulled his fingers free lined himself up and drove into you in one brutal controlled thrust that tore a sharp cry from your throat. no slow stretch. no gentle pause. just the full thick length of him burying to the hilt while he pinned your wrists above your head with one hand.

he began moving at once deep hard exact. every stroke was measured and punishing the wet slap of skin loud in the quiet safehouse. his free hand locked on your hip hard enough to leave marks controlling the angle so he could slam in exactly where it made your back arch.

“three days,” he said against your ear voice still terrifyingly calm even as he fucked into you harder. “three days of checking your injuries. cooking for you. letting you rest. and you decide to be dismissive and rude for no reason at all.” another deep thrust forced a gasp from you. “you dont get to do that with me.”

you tried to stay defiant tried to keep the bratty edge but every snap of his hips drove the air from your lungs. he did not ease off. he set a relentless pace and held it never letting you catch your breath never giving back the soft edges he had offered for days.

he folded your legs higher and drove in even deeper. “look at you. taking every inch while you talked to me like i was nothing.”

he pulled out suddenly flipped you onto your stomach yanked your hips up and sank back in from behind in one hard thrust.

the new angle was devastating. he fucked into you with short powerful snaps one hand fisted in your hair to keep your cheek pressed to the mattress the other locked around your hip.

“youre going to come on my cock,” he ordered. “then youre going to apologize for being a bitch when i did nothing to deserve it. and then im going to fill you so full you feel it every time you move tomorrow. understand?”

you held out longer than was wise. he edged you for it fucking you right to the brink then slowing to shallow controlled strokes that left you shaking and sobbing with frustrated need.

only when your pride finally broke and the fractured apology spilled from your mouth did he give you what you needed.

“im sorry,” you gasped out. “im sorry for being a bitch. please—”

he fucked you through the orgasm hard enough that the headboard slammed against the wall.

your cunt clenched and fluttered around him while he kept driving in chasing his own release with rough almost vicious thrusts.

when he came it was with a low nearly silent groan against the back of your neck burying himself to the root and flooding you in thick pulses while he held you so tightly it bordered on pain.

he did not pull out afterward.

he stayed buried forehead pressed between your shoulder blades breathing controlled again even though his heart still raced.

“dont do that again,” he said voice quiet but edged with steel. “i gave you gentle. you spat on it for no reason. next time you decide to be a bitch just because you feel like it i wont wait three days to correct you.”

his free hand slid down between your bodies fingers gently circling your oversensitive clit while he was still thick and soft inside you coaxing little aftershocks until you were trembling and clinging to the sheets.

sylus

the private garage smelled of polished concrete and rain. sylus had driven you here after the gala without a single word of explanation the black car still warm from the drive the city lights completely cut off by thick concrete walls and the heavy silence of the underground space.

the second he had you on the hood of the car you smirked up at him deliberately uncooperative thighs parting just enough to feel the hard line of him through his trousers the fabric already strained.

“what the big bad leader of onychinus needs to drag me to a garage to get some? couldnt wait until we got upstairs like a normal person? or is this your idea of romance now?”

sylus’s red eyes narrowed. the playful smirk he usually wore sharpened into something colder the kind of look that made most people in n109 think twice before speaking again.

“careful kitten.”

you didnt stop. you rolled your hips against the hard line of his cock and added sweet and mocking “or what? youll talk me to death? lecture me about proper behavior? i thought you liked it when i was difficult. isnt that why you keep me around?”

that did it.

he flipped you onto your stomach across the hood in one smooth motion the cold metal pressing hard against your chest and the thin fabric of your dress as he shoved the material up around your waist.

your underwear was dragged down your thighs in one rough pull and then he was there sinking into you in a single brutal thrust that made the car rock on its suspension and forced a sharp cry out of your throat.

“or ill fuck the attitude out of you,” he said calmly against your ear voice low and dangerous. “and youll thank me for it.”

he didnt tease this time. he fucked you hard and deep from the start one hand fisted in your hair the other braced on the small of your back to keep you pinned against the polished surface.

every thrust was precise and punishing angled to hit the spot that made your knees weak and your breath stutter against the metal the wet sound of him sliding into you already loud in the quiet garage.

“still feel like running that mouth?” he asked when you tried to push back against him. he simply pressed harder and drove in deeper. “go ahead. i like the way you sound when youre trying to stay bratty while im balls deep in this greedy little cunt. keep talking kitten. tell me again how i should have waited.”

you gasped out something half protest half moan “sylus— slow down—” but he only laughed low against your neck and kept the pace relentless never letting you catch your breath.

the wet slap of skin filled the space every thrust rocking the car slightly on its tires the heat of him contrasting sharply with the cool hood beneath you.

“listen to that,” he murmured almost conversational as he ground deep. “soaking my cock already and you were still trying to talk shit two minutes ago? such a mouthy little thing. did you think i wouldnt do anything about it? did you think the leader of onychinus would just let you keep pushing in public and then expect me to be gentle once we were alone?”

when you started clenching around him he reached under and rubbed your clit in tight mean circles until you came hard enough to shake your forehead pressed to the hood as the pleasure tore through you.

he didnt stop. he fucked you through it then through the overstimulation murmuring low mocking praise the entire time.

“thats better. look at you dripping all over my car taking every inch. still want to talk shit? go on,tell me again how i should have waited until we got upstairs. i want to hear it while youre shaking on my cock.”

you could barely form words your voice breaking into soft broken sounds as he kept grinding deep. “i— cant— sylus please—”

he slowed just enough to make you feel every thick inch dragging out and slamming back in the stretch almost too much after the first orgasm.

“nothing coherent? good. i like you better when youre too full to be a brat.” his free hand slid up your side then back down to grip your hip hard enough to leave marks.

“this is what happens when you test me in public. i take you somewhere private and remind you exactly who you belong to. say it. tell me who you belong to.”

“you,” you managed between gasps. “i belong to you—”

“louder.” he drove in harder. “i want the concrete to hear it.”

“i belong to you!”

he shifted the angle of his hips driving even deeper and you cried out again the sound echoing off the concrete walls. he kept talking the whole time low and steady never raising his voice even as he fucked you harder.

“you feel that? how deep i am? how your body keeps pulling me in even while youre still trying to act like you have the upper hand? cute. but we both know better. this cunt of yours has been wet for me since the gala and you still thought talking shit would get you anywhere.”

when he finally came it was with a low rough groan burying himself to the root and filling you while he ground against your oversensitive clit forcing another broken orgasm out of you that left your legs trembling against the cold metal of the hood.

deadly sins. 🌹 (sylus x thief!reader)

he's looking in his wallet, missing a credit card and a few hundred bucks, scoffing. it seems this keeps happening. he still hasn't been able to find his rolex when he keeps all of his possessions very safe.

he growls, sitting on his leather couch in the midnight darkness, nursing a tumbler of whiskey, patient as ever.

an hour or so later, you're slipping in through the elevator, knowing his schedule perfectly, which means he's not supposed to be home right now.

the ding of his in-unit elevator has his jaw tensing, and his eyes darkening.

you're slipping to his bedroom when he flicks on the lights, your body freezing.

he growls, setting his whiskey down on the glass coffee table, his eyes locked to your lace stockings and delicious curves. he's licking his lips when you spin around to face him with your feline leather mask around your eyes, leading to cat ears. 'well, well. a kitten has come to rob me.'

fuck. you're caught.

a giggle escapes you as you lean toward the handsome man. 'see...i must have the wrong home,' you gush, batting your lashes at him. 'i'd never rob someone like you.' you practically purr.

a smirk wraps around his mouth, amusement in his gaze that's locked on yours. 'thou shalt not steal,' he muses. 'seems you skipped over that sin, hm?'

'good thing we can all ask for forgiveness, then, right?' you counter, a smirk grazing your perfect crimson-painted lips.

he takes your hand, tugging you to him, his big hand resting soothingly on your back. 'you're my wife now,' he husks, meaning every word.

you scoff, looking at him, unable to not be attracted to him. 'what?' you almost croak.

'you heard me. there's your partial forgiveness. i want my watch back, though.' he twirls you, and you're nearly blushing.

'your wife?' you rasp.

There, in the next table over at the brunch place terrace, were was another young woman while her friends giggled with each other, eyeing her and shooting quick glances at him.

"I'm so sorry, but I overheard the whole thing," she said pouting her pink, filled lips, and pressing her arms together at her front. He was pissing you off, intentionally ragebating, so of course you mouthed off and chewed him out, even if it was in the middle of the restaurant. You kept your voice contained, but it was inevitable with the close tables that it would slip out.

He didn't even need his eye to see her desires.

"Not a girl's girl," you would say, especially in your conversations with Tara, and while he was a "stupid man who would never understand," he was inclined to agree. After all, you were decked out in clothes that matched his and wearing his ring on your little left hand.

Everything about you two screamed that you were bound together, yet the young woman only got closer to him, scooting her chair toward the man.

"You know," she continued, oblivious to how he grew still. Not from nerves or fear, but he paused in the way he did when those his people were serving him: waiting for them to move around him and do their job impeccably, then pass by as fast as possible.

"I really hate it when girls are so mean to their boyfriends like that," she said with a little pout, almost cooing at him, "I mean, if it was me, I'd never talk to my boyfie—"

"I like my woman mean." This was boring him. He needed to stop humoring her with his silence.

"I—" That seemed to short-circuit her. Blinking her large eyes, she said, "What?"

Your husband chuckled to himself and looked at her with amused, narrowed eyes, as if he made a joke she wasn't in on.

"I like my woman mean as hell."

She nearly jolted in her seat when it finally hit her, pressing her lips together in a fake smile to try and save face in front of her friends and this restaurant. From his cold, blunt tone to the look he was giving her, it was a clear rejection. Even with other men she's tried this with, they would turn her down nicely, saying "Aw, sorry, but I have a girlfriend," but give her lingering, second glances.

It seemed like the husband could just be as mean as his wife.

he would buy you your own home library with a ladder, a comfy chair, and so many shelves

you want a book but it's out of print/in another language/hard to get in your country? he'll give it to you over breakfast, just saying that "he has his ways"

loves to read with you while one of his new records plays in the background

keeps track of your favourite authors and pre-orders their new books for you

loves to listen to you talk about books and how excited you get (especially if it was a book he recomended)

also enjoys when you read to him

would read to you if you asked (he could read the phonebook and it would sound heavenly)

he would buy you the best pens if you like to annotate your books

he obviously encourages you to use his card to buy books (or whatever you want, just use his card~)

the employees at the bookshop love his black card you (they will never go bankrupt <3)

bonus:

synopsis: A free use agreement is always fun pairings (separate): Zayne x f!reader, Valko x f!reader, Sylus x f!reader content: oral (m!receiving with Sylus, fem!receiving with Zayne), penetrative sex (with Valko)

ZAYNE

You don't even hear him come home.

You're a little too focused on trying to clean the underside of the table, on all fours underneath it. It's only when you feel the weight settling behind you, cool hands gently gripping your waist and tugging down your shorts.

Immediately, you grin. This agreement was really the best.

"O-oh my god..." You gasp feeling his tongue run over the seat of your panties, soaking the fabric. He hums, doing it a few times until you start to whine. Still, he's mostly ignoring you. This is for his pleasure after all. Your orgasm is just a bonus.

You try to keep cleaning, you really do. But you manage three swipes with the damp cloth before giving up, arching into his tongue when he pulls aside your panties and licks a loooong stripe up.

wc: 788

cw: nothing but wolf-hybrid!valko and feline-hybrid!reader (gn) and not proof read

sylus felt a brush against his leg, then another before a small warmth wrapped around his waist. he didn't even need to look down to see it was valko's tail around him, he was always clingy whenever he could be.

"we're almost there pup."

valko placed himself under sylus's arm, cozying right up into his side with a small pout. "wanna be home.." he whined softly, relaxing slightly when he felt sylus rub at his back.

deciding to stay silent, sylus knew what valko meant— he wanted to finally see you. you had been away for a few days with a friend, something valko had spent the days leading up to your departure grumbling about. you finally got back home a little after they had left for the day and they were antsy to get back.

Request: @tomriddlegirliepop Heyy could you maybe write a Simon x reader fic where he’s generally always acting as if he hates her guts and they’re bickering the whole time and then she gets back from a mission hurt and he gets protectiveeee Thxxxx already

Summary: you unexpectedly get hurt on a mission… he big guy you're constantly arguing with was the last person you ever assumed would care. [wc 1.1K] [ao3]

Warnings: soft riley, injured reader, hurt/comfort, hospitals, protective riley

The first time Simon called you a pain in the arse, you laughed. The tenth time, you rolled your eyes. By the hundredth...

"You know," you muttered, tightening the strap on your vest, "for someone who claims I annoy him, you spend an awful lot of time talking to me."

Ghost didn't even glance up from cleaning his rifle. "Someone's gotta keep your ego in check."

"Oh, there it is. I was worried today's insult quota hadn't been met."

As a fox hybrid, you sought out trouble like a hound for ducks. It was a deep-seated desire to find the most high risk place to get into, and go in.

CW: Hybrid!AU, fox!Reader, wolf!Ghost, kidnapping (technically)

Recently, you’d been sneaking into an army base and snatching anything you could get your paws on. A glove, a bullet shell, a sock. Anything.

You’d gone in for the big kill late one night, a gun. You had just reached out for the pistol on an officer’s belt when a hand gripped your wrist.

You immediately panicked and thrashed and nipped to try and get away, but the figure made no defensive maneuvers. Instead, you were pulled closer and scuffed before being shoved into a crate and poked with something sharp. Then you passed out.

You woke up in a room just like the ones you snatched from. A bed, a desk, and a dresser. Nothing more furniture-wise, but a masked soldier was leaned against the only door. You growled and pressed yourself against a wall at the sight.

“No need for all that crap, kit.” The man growled back.

You quieted to a rumble.

“Got yourself into some trouble, huh? Like to snatch things that don’t belong to you, like trouble?” He pushed off the door and took a step closer. “Quite the crook you are.”

Another step.

“Took a whole week before anyone noticed. You’re good at it, kit. Good at sneakin’ around.” He clicked his tongue. “Now I’m gonna offer you a deal, m’kay?”

You hesitantly nodded, only wondering the worst for what the options could be.

“You can go back to the woods and risk getting hunted by soldiers lookin’ for their shit, or you can stay here. Learn the ways of the base, follow rules, and you’ll get to sneak into the most interesting places you’ll ever get to see otherwise.” He sat on a knee in front of the bed. “Your choice. But if you wanna stay, it’ll be with me and I don’t tolerate misbehavior.”

You couldn’t help but question him. “Who are you?”

The man pulled off the mask and set it on the bed. He had soft wolf ears peaking out of his short-cropped blonde hair, scars on his eyebrow and cheeks, and flat, grey eyes.

“Name’s Simon. Everyone here calls me Ghost cause I’m good at sneakin’ around like you.” His voice had softened.

“Don’t look like you’re very good at it.” You bit.

He chuffed and his ears flicked. “Yeah, back when I didn’t follow rules. If you follow the rules you won’t look like me.”

You considered this while he leaned an arm against the bed. His scent floated over with his new closeness. It was rich and sweet, like the honey you once snatched from a bee hive.

“Even if you mess up I’ll keep ya safe, but it’s your choice. If ya want I’ll let you out right now. Or you could stay here with me, get three meals a day, and sneak around as much as you want. And if you ever change your mind later, I’ll let you go.” He offered again.

You leaned back against the wall and thought about it. Food, shelter, safety. But rules. Rules, but sneaking. Sneaking…

“I’ll stay.” Came after a long few minutes.

“Alright. Rules are gonna be simple unless you decide to break ‘em.” He moved to sit on the bed with you. “One, always do what I tell you. Two, stay close to me always. Three, don’t take off your collar. If you stay you’ve gotta have one so no one thinks you’re a stray. Got it?”

“Listen, stay, collar.” You said with a slow nod.

“Yes, very good kit.” He smiled softly and the sight made you pause. Something deep within knew this was a special sight.

Simon reached into one of the many pockets on his pants and pulled out a leather loop. “This is your collar. It’s got my name on it and 141. That’s the task force we’re in.” He explained as he unbuckled the loop. “C’mere so I can put this on you, kit.”

You crawled slowly across the bed and kneeled in front of him. He put the loop around your neck and buckled it shut. The weight was negligible and the pendant was warm from his pocket.

“You got a name or are you just gonna be my kit?” He asked as his hands fell back to his lap.

“Kit’s fine.” You answered.

Poly 141 x Reader? (John Price x Kyle Garrick x Reader + Simon and Johnny get some too)

John has been sending pictures of his younger girlfriend to the lads for ages and he finally has a chance to show her off.

Um. Idk what's gotten into me lately but this is still lowk the most normal smut I've written 🙏

cw: Dom/sub dynamic, Reader is in her mid 20s, Multiple partners, Voyeurism/Exhibitionism, Humiliation kink if you squint, Tit slapping, Oral sex (m recieving), Boot humping, Pussy job, Just the tip, Puppy play for those with eyes to see it, Orgasm denial, Jerking off, Cum marking, John is a little bit mean. Price calls Gaz "son" one time but not during sex, Threesome, P in V, Anal, Double penetration, Gaz gets special privileges, Dumbification, Unprotected sex, Aftercare implied

Not exactly poly but Gaz and John do make out sloppy style, and there's def a sexual dynamic within the 141.

AO3

141 MASTERLIST

"Good listener." Simon remarks, accent thicker than usual.

"When she wants to be." That husky laugh makes your heart beat even faster. "Should we show em, sweetheart? Can you be good and show my lads how clever you are?"

You nod, eager to please.

"Speak up."

"Yes. Yes Sir."

"Good girl. On your knees, then."

18+ MDNI

TW: mentions of micro-cheating, cruel Price amid sex

Masterlist

~^*^~

Simon is such an emotionally unavailable arsehole that after many years of trying to make a relationship work on false promises you both know he can’t keep due to much unresolved trauma, you finally decide to put yourself first. You love Simon, and you know somewhere deep down in his cold, dark, dead heart he loves you too. Just not enough to stop fucking disrespecting every boundary you put in place. It comes to a head when he is again caught texting another female from the SAS. They have never been in the same division, not even close, and you know she’s had eyes on YOUR boyfriend for months. They don’t work anywhere in proximity, so why does he need to speak to her?!

Simon is both naive to her advances (you genuinely believe he isn’t trying to fuck her) and stubborn against what he dubs your “control” and keeps talking to her after he promises you he’s unadded her number and won’t speak to her again. In his eyes, he is just being polite to a coworker, and you have to learn to deal with that. You know that she’s got nefarious intentions, and honestly, if Simon wants to ignore one of the only hard boundaries you’ve ever put in place, he can get screwed and fuck up someone else’s mental health. If she wants him, she can have him.

Enter Price, who sweeps you off your feet. Literally. He’s been waiting for Simon to cock this up for a long time and he wines and dines you at the immediate ample opportunity.

The motherfucker even grins at you, when he’s his entire length stuffed into your pussy and he starts talking about Simon.

“Don’t worry, dovie. I’ll never hurt you like that.”

The thought of Simon’s deceptions and lies hits your chest like a wrecking ball, and despite the fact John is dragging his cock through your cunt like he was made for it, you feel the first hot sting of tears. Your heart is still very much cracked in your chest.

John leans down and you feel the almost bristled surface of his hairy chest meet your soft breasts. He’s dirty, licking the first tear that falls so he can savour it. He’s going to be the reason no more of these are shed for Lieutenant Riley ever again.

“Don’t cry, angel, can’t you feel how hard you make me? I’ve waited and waited for Simon to fuck things up with you to the point where you come to my bed instead.”

The next tear falls, and the next, and you’re gripping the sheets more so to stop yourself from full on sobbing as Price fucks you through your torment. He likes seeing you like this. He knows it’s wrong. Maybe he should stop and make sure you’re alright. But you’re shattered and clearly hung up on Simon’s betrayal. Just not enough to stop his Captain from rutting his cock in and out of you.

“Bet he never made you feel this good, eh?” John coos into your ear, gently tucking your hair behind cartilage and running a big hand down the column of your throat. “You feel that? The way your pulse is singing for me while your heart and mind latch onto him?”

The sad thing is that you can feel it. It’s definitely all for John - the way your hips twitch and grind upwards to meet his. You’re breathless but not from the tears of your heartache. John’s cock is different to Simon’s. It’s not as long but it’s definitely a fuck lot thicker. It makes the way he grinds against the spongey bulge of your g-spot euphoric. Your back arches up into him.

“There she is.”

John could get used to this. He doesn’t mind the fact that you’re devastated over Simon. He actually loves the fact you are choosing him amidst your grief. Big ego and grey morals and all that.

“Sing for me birdie. Sing and I will set you free.” He grunts, working his way deeper into you, harder, faster.

You’re sobbing silently as Price fucks you. Your mind is full of Simon, the fact he is probably already screwing that other girl (he is), while you’re here in his superiors bed doing the same. Every now and then, Price manages to hit that spot deep in your cunt again that does have you crying out in pleasure and at that, a wolfish grin appears beneath his facial hair. Cry for Simon and moan for him. He can deal with your mind being preoccupies for now.

You've been part of the task force for almost 6 years. They were your family, the only family you had.

​You had been on deployment for almost 5 months—nothing serious, but long enough. You were so excited to see your boys. Five months without them; that's a long, long time. When you finally arrived at the base, you took a step out of the truck and realized your feet were aching so much. Carrying your bag on your shoulder, you started walking inside the building. Everything seemed exactly the same as it was five months ago, and that was refreshing.

​And then you felt it. Your stomach—God, you were starving.

​You walked down the hall and entered the common dining room. Today, the smell of the food was strangely nice, or maybe you had just missed the smell of the cafeteria a lot. You grabbed a tray and waited your turn in line.

​"Oh! Hey! You're back!" one of the ladies in the cafeteria recognized you.

​"Hey! Yes, I'm back," you offered her a big smile.

​"Come here, we have your favorite!"

​You were about to walk over, but someone stopped you.

​"Sorry, but it doesn't seem fair to me. Everybody is waiting patiently in line; why does she get different treatment from the rest of us?"

​The one who stopped you was a girl you had never seen before.

​"Yes, it's not fair!" another one chimed in, supporting her.

​"I—" you were about to speak, but then you heard it.

​"What's the problem here, ladies?" Price. That was the voice of your beloved captain.

​"Captain Price, this girl is trying to cut the queue. And personally, I think it's no—"

​"You're back. Why didn't you tell us?" Price said out loud, walking closer to you and pulling you into a big hug.

​"Hey, Captain, missed you a lot," you managed to say. He was hugging you so tightly that it was even difficult to breathe.

​"Hey, Price, why is it taking you so long to— Bird! You're back!" Behind Price, you saw the other three bulky men: Soap, Gaz, and Ghost.

​"You could have told us. We wanted to welcome you," Gaz said to you. Oh, God, you missed his bright smile so much.

​"I didn't want to bother you."

​"Oh please, we missed you so much, dove!" Soap approached you and planted a little kiss on your cheek.

​"Hello? She was just trying to cut the queue!" Oh, right, you were still in the cafeteria.

​"I see no problem here, soldier," Ghost said, crossing his arms.

​"Lieutenant, there's clearly a problem here!" The girl squeaked, notoriously pissed off because of the situation.

​"So, who's the newbie?" you whispered to Price, still wrapped in his arms.

​"She just arrived two months ago. Doesn't know who rules this place yet." He looked down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

​This was right where you wanted to be—with your four big men. This was definitely your favorite place on Earth.

simon ‘ghost’ riley x female!reader, 18+

Your favorite part of Simon is the tattoos on his arm. They're just as rugged as he is, scuffed in places and smeared in others. You think it's because he did them himself but you've never asked. You like to imagine a young Simon, probably in the military, hovering over his arm with a stick and poke gun.

You've never been this close with tattoos before, so the fact that he's covered in them does things to your head. It makes you want to trace them every chance you get, feel the way the ink rises from his skin and creates something worth staring at.

Your lips like to follow the path of your fingers.

Simon likes to watch you. He thinks you're like a kitten, rubbing your face on his arm in affection. It makes him feel warm, a foreign feeling to a man like him. You're his good girl, always so sweet to him. How can he deny you anything when you look at him with those doe eyes?

He watches you now, eyes lidded and a smile on his face, as you lick the rose that starts at his elbow. You like the taste of him, even if it's a little salty. You'd lick every inch of him if you could, but Simon is a busy man. You take what you can get.

His other hand comes to card through your hair, pushing it out of your face so he can see you better. "Like that, do you?"

You nod, not wanting to pull away from his arm. You're too focused on the way the ink tastes on your tongue, the way it feels against your lips. You move lower, to the words etched into his skin.

Simon's chuckle is low, the sound vibrating through his chest. "You're a curious little thing, aren't you?"

You hum in response, too lost in the feeling of his skin under your mouth to form a coherent sentence. You're at his wrist now, your lips brushing against the pulse point. You can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, and it makes your own race in response.

Simon watches as you take his fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the ink on his skin. He can feel your saliva coating his fingers, the warmth of your mouth making his cock twitch in his pants. You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes wide and innocent, but the way you're sucking on his fingers is anything but.

"Christ, bird. You're gonna make me cum in my pants if you keep that up."

You pull away with a pop, a grin on your face. "That's the idea, Si."

He shakes his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "You're a little minx, you know that?"

You just shrug, going back to his arm, your lips trailing down to his shoulder. You can feel the muscles there, the way they shift under his skin as he moves. You want to bite him, to mark him in the same way he's marked you, but you hold back. You don't want to hurt him, not like that.

Simon seems to sense your thoughts, his hand tilting your chin up so you're looking at him. "It's okay, love. You can bite me if you want."

You hesitate for a second, but then you're sinking your teeth into his shoulder, your mouth closing around the muscle there. You suck hard, wanting to leave a mark, wanting everyone to know that he's yours.

Simon groans, his hand fisting in your hair. "Fuck, that's it. Mark me up, bird. Let everyone know who I belong to."

You pull away, admiring the red mark you've left on his skin. It's not a tattoo, but it's a start. You lean in again, this time pressing a soft kiss to the mark. Simon's hand relaxes in your hair, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "My good girl."