#+ you knew but there was enough evidence to make it seem like you did actually do those things but you wont say rhat

[slutoru1207]

Behind the Mask

You weren’t sure what unnerved you more—the fact that Mark wore that mask all the time now, or that you still knew exactly what he was thinking just by the way he stood.

Like right now. Arms crossed, head tilted just slightly, muscles tense beneath the yellow and blue suit.

He was watching you.

“You’re staring,” you finally said, leaning back against the rooftop ledge.

Mark didn’t move. “You’re the one sneaking around at 2 AM.” His voice was smooth, slightly distorted by the fabric covering his face.

You scoffed, stretching your legs out. “You were already up here, Grayson.”

At the sound of his last name, his head twitched—just a tiny motion, but you caught it.

You smirked. “Or do you not go by ‘Grayson’ anymore?”

A pause. Then, “I go by whatever you call me.”

That shouldn’t have made your stomach flip the way it did. But it did.

Still, you rolled your eyes. “Right. So if I call you ‘Birdman’—”

“I’ll drop you off this roof.”

You laughed. “You’d never.”

Mark stepped closer, his towering frame making the space between you seem smaller. You couldn’t see his eyes through the yellow lenses, but you felt his stare—burning, assessing.

“Try me.”

You swallowed. Hard.

It was the mask—it had to be the mask. Something about it made him unreadable, untouchable. This wasn’t the Mark you used to tease about his bedhead or cuddle into during movie nights. This was someone else—someone who wanted you to see him differently.

And, God help you, it was working.

Licking your lips, you reached up, fingers hovering just below his covered jaw. “Do you ever take this thing off?”

Mark didn’t answer right away. Instead, he leaned in, close enough that you could feel his breath beneath the fabric.

“Do you want me to?”

Your heart pounded.

He was so smug. You could hear it in his voice.

You could also feel your resolve slipping.

“…Maybe.”

Mark hummed, like he was considering it. Then, at the last second, he took a step back, a smirk evident even through the mask.

“Then earn it.”

And just like that, he shot into the sky, leaving you breathless, flustered, and entirely too intrigued.

This was a dangerous game.

But damn it, you were going to win.

[insidekatmind]

Trap~Choi Mujin

Wearning: +18,smut, age-gap

Request: yes!

You stand in front of the imposing entrance to the building, your heart pounding in your chest. It’s not the first time you’ve found yourself in a dangerous situation, but this is different. The name of Choi Mujin, the head of the powerful mafia organization, rings in your mind as you grip the handle of the gun. The evidence you’ve gathered over the past few months is overwhelming, enough to finally put him behind bars.

The building is quiet, with dark hallways and dim lights. Every step you take seems to echo in the heavy air, and a sense of unease grows in you. Then, when you enter his office, you see him. Choi Mujin is sitting behind a massive desk, his face impassive, as if he’s been waiting for your visit forever.

“You’ve finally come, policewoman,” he says with a cold smile, but there’s something in his eyes that makes you shiver. It’s not fear, it’s something deeper, a tension you’re having trouble deciphering. Your breathing becomes more labored as you advance, holding the gun firmly in your hand.

"You know why I'm here," you reply, your voice betraying the determination, but also the fragility you're trying to hide. "The evidence is against you. There's no escape."

Mujin doesn't flinch. Instead, he looks at you as if he's studying you, his dark eyes like deep wells that seem to scrutinize every inch of you. He smiles and slowly gets up from the chair, approaching you with a measured, but relentless pace. "I've been waiting for you, we're finally alone," Choi Mujin says, touching your side.

“Were you waiting for me?” you whispered confused. “Did you know I was coming?”

Choi Mujin's smile widens as he hears your whisper, his fingers trailing along your side. "Of course I knew," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "I've been watching you, following your every move. You're quite the persistent little detective, aren't you?"

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. "I must admit, I'm impressed. Most cops would have given up by now, but not you. You're different." His hand slides up to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into, do you?" he chuckles darkly. "I could break you so easily, make you beg for mercy. But where's the fun in that?"

“All those clues were traps,” you whispered more to yourself than to him.

Choi Mujin's grip on your waist tightens as he hears your realization. "Ah, so the little detective is finally catching on," he purrs, his fingers digging into your flesh. "Those clues were indeed traps, designed to lure you in, to make you think you had me cornered."

He pulls back slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours. "But you walked right into them, didn't you? Like a moth drawn to a flame." His other hand comes up to cup your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. "And now, here you are, all alone with me, with no backup, no way out."

His thumb brushes against your lower lip, a mockery of a gentle touch. "So, what do you plan to do now, detective? Arrest me? Shoot me? Or perhaps..." he continues, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "you'll realize that you're out of your depth and beg for mercy." His hand slides from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. "I could make you feel things you've never felt before, detective. Pleasures beyond your wildest dreams."

He leans in, his lips hovering just above yours. "But first, I think it's time we even the playing field, don't you?" In a swift motion, he disarms you, your gun clattering to the floor. "Now, we're on equal terms."

You gasped softly and for a second you looked at your gun on the ground and realized you were defeated. Choi Mujin watches with satisfaction as the realization of defeat crosses your face. He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "That's right, little detective. You're all alone with me now, and there's nothing you can do about it."

His hand slides from the back of your neck to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it possessively. "I've waited so long for this moment, to have you completely at my mercy." He applies a slight pressure, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his strength.

"You know, I could snap your neck right now, and no one would ever find your body," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "But where's the fun in that? I want to break you, to make you beg for my mercy."

His other hand starts to roam your body, exploring your curves with a familiarity that makes your skin crawl. "I'm going to take my time with you, detective," he says, his voice dripping with menace. "I'm going to make you regret ever crossing me."

He suddenly spins you around, pressing your back against his chest as he holds you in a vicelike grip. His lips find your neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin. "You're mine now," he growls. "And I'm going to use you however I see fit."

His hand slides down to your stomach, his fingers splaying possessively. "Maybe I'll start by marking you, so everyone knows who you belong to."

His hand slowly slides lower, his intentions clear. "I wonder how loud I can make you scream," he whispers menacingly in your ear. "Will you beg for mercy, or will you try to maintain that stubborn facade until the very end?"

He bites down hard on your neck, marking you as his. "Either way, I'm going to enjoy breaking you, piece by piece." His hand reaches the hem of your skirt, his fingers brushing against your thigh. "Let's see how long you can hold out, little detective."

Choi Mujin smirks at your gasp, his hand continuing its upward trajectory beneath your skirt. "Sensitive, aren't we?" he mocks, his fingers brushing against your inner thigh. "I wonder what other sounds I can draw out of you."

He presses his hips against your backside, letting you feel his growing arousal. "You're trembling," he observes, his voice laced with sadistic pleasure. "Are you scared, detective? Or maybe... excited?"His hand reaches its destination, his fingers pressing against your most intimate area through your underwear. "Let's find out, shall we?" he says, his voice a low, menacing purr. He starts to rub you, his touch rough and demanding. "Wet already? You're even more pathetic than I thought."

You try to hold back your moans because you didn't want to give him any satisfaction.

Choi Mujin's smirk widens as he notices your struggle to remain silent. "Trying to hold back, are we?" he taunts, increasing the pressure and speed of his fingers. "It's no use, detective. Your body is betraying you."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel how much you're enjoying this. Your panties are already soaked." His other hand slides up to your breast, squeezing it roughly. "You're just a weak, pathetic woman who can't resist a real man's touch."

“You're crazy,” you manage to whisper.

Choi Mujin laughs, a cold, mirthless sound. "Crazy?" he repeats, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your most sensitive areas. "Perhaps. But you're the one who walked into my trap, detective. You're the one who's about to be fucked senseless by the man you swore to bring to justice."

He bites down hard on your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you, piece by piece. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging me for more."

His hand suddenly disappears from beneath your skirt, leaving you aching and frustrated. Before you can react, he spins you around to face him, his dark eyes burning with intensity. "On your knees," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument.

When you hesitate, he grabs a handful of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. "I said, on your knees," he repeats, his tone dripping with menace. "You're going to suck my cock like the good little whore you are."

You hesitate for a moment, the defiance in your eyes warring with the fear and reluctant arousal coursing through your veins. But with a cruel yank of your hair, Choi Mujin reminds you of your powerless position. Slowly, reluctantly, you sink to your knees before him.

He releases your hair, his hand moving to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. "Open your mouth," he orders, his voice cold and commanding. "And if you even think about biting, I'll make you regret it."

As you part your lips, he pulls out his erect cock, the thick length bobbing menacingly in front of your face. "Now, suck,"

You open your mouth and kiss his length then lick it and finally take it in your mouth.

Choi Mujin groans as your warm mouth envelops his cock, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Take it all, you little slut."

He begins to thrust his hips, forcing his length deeper into your throat. Tears spring to your eyes as you struggle to accommodate his size, your gag reflex kicking in. But he shows no mercy, continuing to fuck your mouth with brutal intensity.

"That's right," he pants, his grip on your hair tightening. "Choke on my cock. This is what you deserve for crossing me."

As you suck his cock you glare at him but as his cock goes deeper you roll your eyes in pleasure. Choi Mujin notices your gaze, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "Look at you, glaring at me even as you suck my dick," he taunts, his hips snapping forward sharply. "Such a fucking hypocrite. You hate it, but your body loves it."

He pulls out suddenly, his cock slick with your saliva. "Open your mouth," he commands, his hand pumping his length rapidly. "I'm going to come all over your pretty face, mark you as my whore."

With a final grunt, he reaches his climax, his hot seed spurting onto your cheeks and lips. "Fuck," he pants, his chest heaving. "You look even better covered in my cum."

Choi Mujin watches as you lick his cum from your lips, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "You liked that, didn't you?" he says, his voice dripping with mockery. "Dirty little slut, tasting my seed like it's the finest delicacy."

He reaches down, wiping the remaining cum from your cheek with his thumb, then forcing his finger into your mouth. "Clean it off," he orders, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "Taste every last drop of what belongs to me."

As you suck his thumb clean, he pulls it out, leaving you panting and disheveled. "Now, let's see how well you take my cock in other holes," he says, his tone leaving no doubt about his intentions. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight."

Your breathing becomes heavier at his words. Choi Mujin notices your heavy breathing, his grin widening. "Oh, so the little detective is getting excited," he mocks, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek possessively. "You're just a slut in heat, aren't you? Begging for my cock without even realizing it."

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget your own name," he whispers menacingly. "By the time I'm done with you, all you'll remember is the feeling of my cock stretching your tight little holes."

His hand slides down to your neck, squeezing lightly. "Now, be a good girl and strip for me. I want to see every inch of the body I'm about to claim."

Still with trembling breath you get up from the ground and undress.

Choi Mujin's eyes roam over your exposed body, his gaze hungry and possessive. "Fuck, you're even more beautiful than I imagined," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. "I'm going to enjoy breaking you."

He grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. His other hand reaches out to touch your breast, squeezing it roughly. "Such perfect tits," he says, his thumb brushing against your nipple. "I wonder how they'll look covered in bruises."

His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers teasing your folds. "And this sweet little pussy," he continues, his voice dripping with menace.

He plunges two fingers inside you without warning, pumping them in and out roughly. "So tight," he growls, his eyes locked onto yours. "I'm going to stretch this pussy out so much, you'll be able to take my entire fist."

He curls his fingers, hitting your Gspot with expert precision. "Come for me," he commands, his thumb pressing against your clit. "Show me how much you love being used by a criminal like me."

His other hand wraps around your throat, squeezing lightly as he continues his brutal fingering. "That's it, little detective," he pants, his own arousal evident. "Come on my fingers like the whore you are."

You moaned and pushed your hips harder onto his fingers. “oh god” you whispered.

Choi Mujin's eyes gleam with sadistic pleasure as he watches you moan and grind against his fingers. "That's right, beg for it," he growls, his pace becoming even more brutal. "God isn't going to save you, but maybe if you're a good girl, I'll let you come."

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel you tightening around my fingers," he whispers menacingly. "You're so close, aren't you? So desperate for release."

His thumb presses harder against your clit, his fingers curling deeper inside you. "Come for me, you pathetic slut," he commands, his grip on your throat tightening. "Show me how much you love being used by a monster like me."

Choi Mujin watches with a cruel smile as you come undone, your body convulsing with pleasure. He doesn't stop fingering you, prolonging your orgasm until you're a sobbing, trembling mess.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his fingers finally slowing. He pulls them out, bringing them to his lips to suck off your juices. "You taste even better than I imagined."

He grabs your hair, forcing you to look at him. "Now, it's time for the main event," he says, his voice dripping with menace. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll forget your own name. And you're going to love every second of it."

He pushes you onto the desk, spreading your legs roughly. "Hold on tight, little detective," he warns, positioning his cock at your entrance. "This is going to be a ride you'll never forget."

You hold onto his shoulders as you moan as you feel his cock rubbing against your entrance. Choi Mujin smirks at your moan, his cock throbbing against your entrance. "You're so wet for me already," he taunts, rubbing the head of his dick against your folds. "Your pussy is practically begging for my cock."

Without warning, he slams into you, filling you completely. "Fuck," he groans, his hips immediately starting to move. "You're so tight, it's like your pussy was made for me."

He begins to fuck you ruthlessly, his hips pistoning in and out at a brutal pace. The desk shakes beneath you, papers scattering across the floor. "Take it, you little slut," he pants, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "Take my fucking cock."

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk," he promises, his voice harsh with desire.

You groan louder. "Yes, please,keep going" you say between groan. "So good... so good."

Choi Mujin's eyes widen in surprise at your words, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. "Well, well, well," he says, his thrusts becoming even more brutal. "The little detective is a dirty talker. I like that."

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "You want me to keep going, huh?" he whispers menacingly. "You want me to fuck you until you're screaming my name?"

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing lightly. "Beg for it," he commands, his hips never slowing. "Beg me to ruin your tight little pussy. Show me how much you love being used by a criminal."

His thumb presses harder against your clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. "Come on, detective," he taunts, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Beg like the slut you are."

"please Choi Mujin, fuck me harder" you begged touching his face and shoulders.

Choi Mujin's smirk widens at your desperate plea, his grip on your throat tightening. "Good girl," he purrs, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you'll never forget this moment."

His free hand reaches up to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly. "You're mine now," he growls, his voice filled with possessiveness. "Mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to break."

He leans down, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck, marking you as his. "Come for me," he commands, his thumb rubbing your clit furiously. "Come all over my cock like the slutty little detective you are."

You moan loudly and take his face and kiss him. Choi Mujin is taken aback by your sudden kiss, but he quickly recovers, kissing you back with brutal intensity. His tongue invades your mouth, dominating and claiming you completely.

He pulls back, panting heavily. "Fuck," he mutters, his eyes blazing with desire. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

Without warning, he flips you over, bending you over the desk. "I'm going to fuck you from behind now," he growls, slamming into you without preamble. "And you're going to take it like the good little slut you are."

His hands grip your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he begins to pound into you relentlessly. The desk creaks and shakes beneath you, threatening to collapse under the force of his thrusts. "You feel so fucking good," he pants, his voice strained with pleasure. "I could fuck you forever."

You arched your ass to take more and whimpered. “Yes please, like this,” you murmured in pleasure.

Choi Mujin groans in pleasure as you arch your back, taking him deeper. "Fuck, yes," he hisses, his hips slamming against your ass with bruising force. "You were made for this, weren't you? Made to be fucked hard and used."

He reaches around, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. "Come on, detective," he pants, his breath hot against your ear. "I want to feel you come on my cock. I want to feel your pussy squeeze me tight."

His other hand wraps around your throat, tilting your head back as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. "You're mine now," he repeats, his voice low and possessive. "And I'm going to use you however I want, whenever I want. You're my personal fuck toy, my little detective slut."

He bites down on your shoulder, marking you as his. "Come for me," he demands, his fingers rubbing your clit harder. "Come all over my cock like the obedient little whore you are."

His thrusts become erratic, his own orgasm approaching. "Fuck, I'm going to come," he groans, his grip on your throat tightening. "I'm going to fill you up, mark you from the inside out. You'll be dripping with my seed for days."

Choi Mujin doesn't stop fucking you even as you come undone around his cock, your pussy clamping down on him like a vice. "That's it, take it all," he pants, his hips snapping forward relentlessly. "Take every last drop of my cum."

He continues to pound into you, his grip on your throat tightening as he chases his own release. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight," he groans, his voice strained. "I'm going to fill you up, make you mine completely."

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he comes. "Yes, fuck," he hisses, his hot seed flooding your pussy. "You're mine now, detective. My personal cum dumpster."

He stays buried inside you for a long moment, his chest heaving against your back. "Such a good girl," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "I knew you'd be perfect for this."

You turn around and wince in pain as your legs shake. You look at him as you sigh heavily as you had to come down from your orgasm.

Choi Mujin smirks as he watches you wince in pain, your legs shaking from the intense fucking he just gave you. "What's wrong, detective?" he taunts, his voice dripping with mock concern. "Can't handle a little rough play?"

He steps closer, his hand reaching out to caress your cheek possessively. "You look so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his eyes roaming over your flushed, sweaty face. "Broken and used, just the way I like you."

His thumb brushes against your lower lip, smearing a bit of his cum that was still there. "Open your mouth," he commands, his voice leaving no room for argument. "I want you to clean my thumb, show me how much you enjoyed being my little slut."

You open your mouth and suck his thumb, looking at him with your seductive eyes.

Choi Mujin's eyes darken with desire as you suck his thumb, your seductive gaze locking onto his. "Fuck," he mutters, his other hand coming up to grip your hair. "You're a natural at this, aren't you?"

He pulls his thumb out of your mouth, replacing it with his tongue as he kisses you deeply, possessively. "I could get used to this," he says against your lips, his voice husky. "Having you at my beck and call, ready to suck my cock or spread your legs whenever I want."

His hand slides down to your pussy, his fingers pushing inside your stillsensitive hole. "You're mine now, detective," he growls, his fingers pumping in and out of you. "Mine to use, mine to fuck, mine to break."You moaned and pulled him into another kiss as you moved your hips onto his hand and cuddled into him.

Choi Mujin kisses you back fiercely, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your pussy. He wraps his other arm around you, pulling you flush against his body as you cuddle into him.

"You're so responsive," he murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with satisfaction. "I love how you melt into me, how you can't get enough of my touch."

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down to your neck where he bites and sucks, marking you as his. "I'm going to keep you," he says possessively, his fingers curling inside you. "You'll be my personal pet, my little detective whore."

His thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in circles as he continues to finger you. "Come for me again," he commands, his voice low and dominant.

"Choi Mujin" you groan his name and come on his fingers.

Choi Mujin groans in satisfaction as you come undone on his fingers, your pussy clamping down around them. "That's it, come for me," he murmurs, his fingers continuing their movements, drawing out your orgasm.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his lips to suck off your juices. "You taste so fucking good," he says, his eyes locked onto yours. "I could get addicted to your flavor."

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you tremble in the aftermath of your climax. "You're mine now, detective," he says softly, his lips brushing against your ear. "Mine to protect, mine to pleasure, mine to keep."

His hand slides up to your throat, squeezing lightly. "And I always take care of what's mine."

[delirious-donna]

I’ll Be In Your Afterglow [Part Seven]

Your skin yielded to the intrusion of his fangs, like a sharp knife through the skin of a ripe peach. Blood burst like the freshest juices in a rush for freedom…

story summary: Levi isn’t hungry, or so that’s what he claims. A vampire must drink to survive, and his sire refuses to let the man give up without trying every trick up his sleeve. When a new ‘donor’ appears, one who is different from all the rest, will Levi be able to keep resisting?

pairing: Levi Ackerman (vampire) x female reader (human)

warnings: manipulation, powerplay between Erwin and Levi, oblivious reader, flirting, seduction, mind control, the threat of losing self control, blood drinking, biting, talk of marking, animalistic instincts, possessive behaviour, thigh riding, exhibitionism, voyeurism, heavy petting, nipple play, blood exchange, changing POVs between reader and Levi, some vampire lore

note: I apologise for how long it has taken me to get this chapter out. I knew it was going to be long and I did warn of that in the previous chapter but I definitely could have given it more of my time if I'm honest. Anyways, I hope it was worth the wait... reblogs and comments extremely welcome <3

Part Six | Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Part Eight

The outfit was a mistake. 

You knew that the moment you entered the now familiar study and heard the sudden sucking of air from between gritted teeth. Erwin’s back was to you, his imposing stature blocking the majority of Levi, who stood deeper in the room, but not enough that you couldn’t meet his alarmed eyes. 

The creamy silk blouse no longer seemed appropriate, even if the buttons were done up to reveal only the faintest glimpse of your cleavage. Silently, you wished that the black skirt you had pulled on hastily before trotting down here was not as tight around your hips and backside. 

Not that you could do anything about it now. 

You could kick yourself for that strange sixth sense that this meeting would be far from normal, along with your desire to dress to impress. There was no way for you to reason out why you were so innately certain that Erwin would not be alone when you arrived, it was almost like you could sense Levi’s presence. 

The idea was absurd, but what else could explain it? 

 “Ah, there you are. Right on time as always. I do appreciate punctuality,” Erwin said, turning to you and offering a smile that did not extend to his eyes. 

There was an evident tightness to his expression. He wore the mask of a politician—polished, vacant of emotion, false—and it raised your hackles. Your eyes met the cool Artic blue only briefly before returning to the grey ones over his shoulder. 

“Of course. I wouldn’t keep you waiting, Mr Smith.” 

Erwin tsked. “There is no need for such formalities, my dear. You’ve been here the better part of a week; I think we are on first name basis now. May I say you look lovely,” he added with the subtlest incline of his head. 

 You could feel the blood rushing to the surface of your skin, warming your chest, neck, cheeks. There was something indecent about how the compliment sounded to your ear, and the way he stalked towards you only added to the allusion that there was something amiss. 

Erwin had been nothing but pleasant with you, and whilst his general presence was not one to be taken lightly, this was the first time you felt yourself truly in danger. Yet it wasn’t exactly danger that you sensed, not in the way that he might attack you or harm you, more that he might make you feel things that you weren’t sure you should or that you wanted to admit to. 

“Don’t you agree, Levi?” he asked.  

He brushed his fingertips against the collar of your blouse, barely enough to feel it but something inside you pulsed and shook your knees. “Such a pretty colour, but… cream stains so easily.” 

He was behind you. It left a gap between where you stood and where Levi remained rooted in place, his hands tightly fisted by his sides as if he was being kept there by forces unseen. The distance was barely a few strides, but it felt utterly cavernous.  

You stammered in the absence of Levi’s reply. “I’m not especially clumsy.”  

Erwin barked out a laugh and your lashes fluttered low at the sickly sweet, honeyed drizzle that dripped down your spine along with it.  

“I think you misunderstand, darling, but no matter.”  

A hand fell to your shoulder, the long fingers and perfectly manicured square nails visible in your periphery. You wanted to squirm so badly, to twist your feet against the floor or to fidget with the hem of your skirt. Instead, you focused on Levi and tried to decipher whatever the hell was going on between the two men. 

Why wouldn’t he speak?  

Levi swayed ever so slightly before stiffening. His heels clicked together, reminding you of the dreams where he was dressed in military uniform. A muscle ticked in his cheek, his expression murderous. It made you want to reach out to him and as that thought formed, you felt Erwin’s fingertips dig a little more firmly into your upper arm, much like a snake who had coiled around you slowly, carefully, only to tighten when it was all too late. 

“Levi… are you okay?” you inquired, not able to suffer the continued silence for a moment longer. 

He blinked, as if waking out of a trance, and focused on you. His gaze softened for the briefest second until you let out a quiet whine at the increased pressure from Erwin’s fingers. It didn��t hurt, but you also couldn’t call it comfortable. 

Warm breath skittered across your neck as Erwin dipped his head to speak in your ear. “He isn’t happy with me, but that’s okay because I am rather used to him being unhappy with my decisions.” Gently, he pushed back strands of your hair, tucking them carefully behind your ear. “Levi likes to force my hand at times, and unfortunately… this time you are caught in the crossfire. For that, I am sorry.” 

You didn’t believe him. 

The contents of your stomach dropped into your toes. So, you weren’t delusional, there really was something going on and it somehow involved you. 

“I don’t understand,” you admitted. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“You see what you’re doing to the poor girl, Levi? She thinks this is her fault, and we both know that it’s not. Poor little dove,” he cooed, voice dripping in faux concern and you felt the ghost of a kiss pressed to your ear before he straightened to his full height. 

Erwin sighed dramatically when Levi bared his teeth. The long points of his canines had descended entirely, wickedly sharp and deadly enough that you knew instantly that he could rip your throat out without much effort at all.  

It should scare you, not excite you.  

“All you’re doing is turning her on. I can smell her arousal, and I know you can too, imagine how much more potent it is for me standing right here. Don’t you want to come a little closer?” Erwin urged. 

Levi didn’t move a single muscle. 

“You’d like him to come, wouldn’t you?” he asked.  

He tentatively encircled your wrist, as if waiting to see if you would resist. When you did nothing to stop him, Erwin raised your arm until he could press his nose to the pulse on the inside of your wrist. It fluttered wildly like the wings of a hummingbird. “Delicious.” 

“Don’t.”  

It was the first word Levi had uttered since you arrived, and the command was clear. If it had been addressed towards you, there was no doubt you would obey without question.

You were a pawn in this game of chess, and you could only wonder how you would survive on the chequered board when both players were calculating moves beyond your comprehension. 

Never in your life had you felt completely at the mercy of a man, let alone two. Erwin was a handsome man, there was no denying it. Under other circumstances you might have swooned beneath his attention, whereas here, you weren’t completely sure if he was interested or simply feigning it to get a rise out of the man staring bloody murder at him.  

As for Levi… he was also conventionally handsome, even when he was scowling, which seemed to be a lot of the time. He was not someone you would normally consider your type, but perhaps that only highlighted the magnetism that was evident between you. Unlike Erwin, you believed that his intentions were driven by desire and not by underhanded motives. 

It was a precarious position.  

It was downright infuriating to be spoken about like you weren’t standing right here, and whilst you fully appreciated that these were not men to be trifled with, you wouldn’t allow it to continue either, not whilst you still had a voice and a will of your own. 

Extracting your hand from Erwin’s delicate grip, you smoothed it down your skirt if only to hide the trembling. “Mr Smith, I must insist that these games stop at once. Why did you ask me here and why does Lev—Mr Ackerman look like he wants to see you dead?” 

“I admire your candour, little dove,” Erwin said, inclining his head and cutting his gaze towards the man in question. All you could do was observe the unspoken words that hung suspended in the air between them.  

There were decades, if not centuries, of history between these two. Maybe it was silly of you to wish the relationship between all of you was more amicable in nature, to be trusted by them. You were certain it would be lovely to listen to the stories that only they could tell—fantastical memories of their exploits and the mischief they indulged in during better days—but instead, you were stuck in this current limbo of not knowing, of not understanding anything. 

Erwin sighed after the long silence reached crescendo.  

“This is your last opportunity to tell her yourself, otherwise you will be forcing my hand, and I know you would never consider me a man who bluffs when so much is on the line.” 

“Can someone just say something!” you yelled, finally snapping under the weight of tension in the room. “I’m here. I’m right fucking here. Don’t talk in riddles or I’ll be forced to void this contract of employment with immediate effect, Mr Smith. I refuse to be a pawn in your Machiavellian games anymore, and remember, it was you that insisted I have a clause to allow me to walk away for any reason.” 

You were visibly vibrating; a tumultuous mixture of emotions fighting for dominance until you felt both sick to your stomach and ready to cry at the drop of a hat.  

Levi looked stricken and the most unsure of himself you had seen. His extended fangs were still on display as he panted through laboured breaths, eye swinging wildly between you and Erwin. 

Erwin had taken the seat behind his desk, and you turned to keep both men in your sight. He massaged at what you imagined to be an ache in his temples, eyes closed as if he could pretend—even for a moment—that neither you nor Levi were here. When he blinked them open, you nearly staggered back.  

The piercing blue was entirely swallowed by black. There was no shimmering sparkle in those pits of midnight, only an endless void that sent shivers of a different kind skittering down your spine. 

“I’m hungry,” he stated flatly, not a lie. “Will you cater to me? Levi is not the only one that can make it feel good. I promise that compared to him, my tricks are on a whole other level. Come to me, let me give you a taste of what I can do in return.” 

Instinctively, your gaze found Levi.  

It hurt to watch the expression on his face shut down, his eyes dropping to the floor whilst his entire body turned even more rigid than you thought possible. He was fighting himself, and you wanted to reach out and tell him to intervene. In your heart you knew that Erwin was pushing for such a result, but Levi continued to stubbornly refuse. 

Did you mean so little? 

A stupid thought given that you were even in this situation, but when ever had your brain been rational when it came to how you thought others perceived you.  

With flushed cheeks and a burning determination to not show how badly you wanted Levi to step in on your behalf, you took the few steps towards Erwin and placed your hand into his outstretched palm. After all, you were not contracted to Levi exclusively. 

He wasted no time in tugging you down until you were tumbling onto his lap in a tangle of limbs, squeaking in surprise at the sudden turn of events. The scent of him hit you first—woodsy notes masking fresh blood and old power—followed by whispered words inside your mind…  

“He will stop me. Do not fear me. Act with me. Make it look real.” 

“You haven’t answered, darling. Will you let me have a taste? It will be your first time, no?” Erwin asked out loud whilst the whispering continued in your head. “I have lots of experience with those giving for the first time.” 

He made it sound sexual, erotically thrilling and yet, behind what he projected, it felt wrong. 

It was hard to concentrate. Almost impossible to discern between what he was saying aloud and what was being fed to you silently. His fingertips danced up your bare arm until it reached the cap sleeve, drawing enticing lines beneath the silky fabric until you felt your mind grow lax and warm. 

Your worries started to melt away; a pleasant tingling replacing the hurt feelings and confusion. Warmth akin to the numbness found from imbibing too much alcohol had you relaxing against the man you sat upon. Everything slowed. The beat of your heart echoing inside your ears dulled down until you could hear every exhale with too much clarity. 

The desire to cuddle into him grew like a match struck amidst a fierce gale, it flickered and flared only to shrink when a particularly hard gust battered against that synthetic feeling desire. You frowned, eyebrows knitting together as you realised you had rested against Erwin’s chest and your fingers were laced on top of his broad palm. 

“Erwin… ‘m feeling funny.” 

Levi jerked forward at the slurred sound of your words, only to be stopped and held by invisible restraints. He tried valiantly to shove away Erwin’s power, knowing it was fruitless, but undeterred in his efforts. 

It felt as if his entire body was engulfed in flames. They licked at his bare bones and curled around the joints until he swore he could hear them hissing and popping from the heat. What was worse was the roaring inside his head. If he believed in souls, he would swear it was screaming at what he was bearing witness to. 

He knew the effects of mind control all too well, and he could practically feel the overspill of what Erwin was pouring into you. All he could do was watch as you walked to him—willingly—and fell under his spell the very second he cooed into your ear. 

To see your body soften against anyone but his was like being carved up on the inside. The pain hidden from others but the agony he felt was all too real. Not even in his darkest, most violent moments had he felt the fire in veins ignite so quickly and so intensely. 

Mine. 

Mine! 

Mine! Stop him! 

Except, he couldn’t. 

Erwin was his sire, and he could not overpower him even though he would be willing to give his pitiful immortal life for just one clear shot. He would rip the man apart until there was nothing left but blood and sinew. 

His animal brain was securely in the driver’s seat. 

Levi’s jaw snapped when Erwin made to press a soft kiss to your temple, his lips pursed as he hushed your complaints away and wound an arm around your middle. He would be damned if anyone else was going to drink from you—ever—and especially given you were still a virgin to giving your blood. 

He would taste you. You were his. Only his and no one else’s.  

No, no! His brain screamed, bringing with it a stabbing pain behind his eyes and near blinding him. The possessive instinct is wrong, all wrong. You don’t understand, but you will. If only you had taken what was offered freely when the opportunity was right there. Stupid! 

Levi staggered in confusion at where these coherent but viciously snarled words came from. Had he unlocked a part of himself previously unknown? Dormant until the right circumstances were met? Did it even matter? 

Your spine arched, pushing your backside into Erwin and the man dared to grunt, a devious smile that only Levi could see unfurling effortlessly. All he was missing was horns and a pointed tail, but even without them he was still a devil. 

He wondered how much of your actions were of your own doing… vampiric suggestion was a highly potent drug to most humans and when the vampire in question was as old and powerful as Erwin, well, it was safe to say it was like receiving a triple shot when you only expect the standard. 

Over the years he had witnessed scenes much like this one; sometimes he had joined in and others he merely watched from the periphery. Somehow this time it felt so obscene and debauched that it turned his stomach. The only difference was that this time he cared about the person at the centre of attention.  

He cared about what you might do or not do whilst under the influence. Levi had alluded to what his kind were capable of, and surely through your own research you were aware of the potential dangers but that didn’t make it easier to watch. 

“I’ll do it, just… stop. Take your hands off her and get your filthy fucking thoughts out of her mind. It’s not fair. She doesn’t understand,” Levi half snarled. 

The weight around his legs and feet melted away and he nearly collapsed to his knees when the adrenaline and lactic acid rushing through his thighs finally found the momentum to move forward he was searching for. Each step felt like it took forever, but eventually he was right in front of you. 

“As you wish,” Erwin acquiesced. 

Your face tilted up and the smile you gifted him lit up his insides. It was so gentle and welcoming, almost excited to see him and oh how he wished that to be true. He knew Erwin’s thrall had not yet fully dissipated, and that you would be receptive for several more moments, but he would enjoy the expression for as long as he could. 

He refused to acknowledge Erwin, though he knew his intelligent eyes were taking in every minute movement and unspoken action. Instead, Levi allowed his hand to slide along the curve of your jaw until he cradled your soft cheek like the perfect thing it was, indulging in how you naturally nuzzled into his palm. 

Your soft moan made his cock jump. He was going to live or die by your hand, that was for certain.  

Levi shuttered his gaze, trying to focus on what was expected of him and not what he wanted, which was far more scandalous. In his current state he would take you—blood and body—right on top of Erwin’s desk with the man present or not. In fact, if he were to be completely honest, he wanted him here so he could witness how Levi would claim you for himself and without the need for mind tricks. 

“Sweetheart, I have something to tell you, and it may change… everything,” he admitted honestly, “I’ll wait until his influence has left you, so I need you to keep looking at me and tell me when you feel more yourself again.” 

“Mm, can do that,” you said sounding sleepy and chasing the sensation of his fingers on your skin, and the comfort they brought. It wasn’t like the artificial comfort that Erwin fed you, this was real and slowly the difference became more obvious. Levi’s touch was helping to clear the perfumed smoke inside your mind, much like throwing open a window on a stuffy day. 

Erwin cleared his throat and Levi snarled, his body bowing closer so that he could at least try to remove you from Erwin’s hold should the need arise. The action did not go unnoticed and as if he was still yet trying to raise his hackles, Erwin chuckled airily. 

“Are you so sure that you don’t want me to give you bliss beyond definition… how can you know that Levi would treat you any better than I? I can read in your thoughts that you find me handsome, even if you do fear me a little. What is fear if not a shot of adrenaline in the right hands, hm?” Erwin asked, placing his hand in a gesture that mirrored Levi’s, his palm cupping your cheek. 

“What are you doing, Erwin? I told you to stop!” 

“Making sure.” 

“I will kill you if you do not get your hand off her right now you arrogant prick,” Levi hissed, spittle flying from the inelegance of speaking with his fangs extended. 

Again, Erwin laughed—a deep barking laugh that jostled you. “Oh, how I would like to see you try, but be careful what you wish for.” 

You were only vaguely aware of the conversation taking place over your head. The last remnants of whatever the hell Erwin had done was finally receding and it only left confusion and so many questions that you knew would be ignored. What you did know was that you found no pleasure in the touch of Erwin’s hand on your face. 

“Mr Smith, I mean… Erwin. Please stop. I don’t understand why I feel connected to Levi, but I do feel it, and I want to explore it if he’s willing. I dreamt of him last night,” you revealed whilst you sat up, moving so you were only perched on the very edge of Erwin’s knee.  

You couldn’t find the strength to look at Levi directly, choosing to speak to his chest. “I don’t know if they were dreams or memories. I-I thought… well, some of them were intimate and—” 

“Don’t say any more, not now,” Levi interjected, lifting your chin so you finally met his eyes and the swirling mercurial grey that had entranced you all those nights ago. “We can talk about everything else later. I swear on my honour that I will only be truthful with you, and if there are things that I choose not to reveal… there will be a reason, and that reason is to keep you safe.” 

That sounded reasonable, though you imagined that to be kept in the dark was something you would rail against when the time presented itself. For now, you nodded in agreement and marvelled at the smallest smile that graced Levi’s thunderous face. It felt like the rays of the sun breaking through storm clouds, and you wished to chase those rays and feel their warmth on your skin more than anything. 

“These conversations can wait,” Erwin mused, leaning further back as if trying to give the impression of space despite your continued seat upon his knee. “Whilst all I have is time, I am growing bored. The time for playing is over and I shall see you drink now or else I will make it happen, and neither of you want that.” 

Fear prickled the hairs at your nape and along your arms. There was no hint of deception in his threat, and you turned to Levi for a clue of what to do.

This was your job. It was what you wanted, and yet, to feel like it was somehow forced… no. That wasn’t the problem. What bothered you most was that it turned you on to think of Levi drinking from you whilst Erwin watched. 

Heat washed over your skin in a fresh wave. Your tongue felt thick and heavy in your mouth, making it hard to speak. “Drink from me?” 

In the blink of an eye, you went from seated on Erwin’s lap to on your knees with Levi’s thigh braced between your legs, the tight hold of your skirt bunched around your hips and barely hiding the curve of your ass. He held you at arm’s length whilst you gasped and panted, head spinning from the sudden and unexpected movement. 

From above and behind you, you could sense the weight of the vampire master’s gaze. If you were a gambling woman, you’d bet on him smiling in victory. 

Levi groaned and you reached for his cheek, only for him to turn away. You could feel the vibrations of his body travelling into you, and despite both kneeling on the floor, he was working incredibly hard to contain himself.  

Again, you reached out, determined to be the comfort he so desperately needed and this time he didn’t back away. The black cat was cornered and scared, but he did not lash out with claws or teeth. He melted into the affection, his shoulders slumping whilst the strain started to ebb out of him. 

“You promised you’d make me feel good. Let me do the same for you,” you cooed barely above a whisper, nails scratching indulgently into his silky hair. The lethal predator was letting you into world, and you refused to give up the ground he’d yielded to you so far. 

The melody had long reached a fever pitch.  

It was hauntingly beautiful; insistent and alluring much like the old tales of sirens who would call out to sailors in attempt to lure them to their doom. However, Levi could not believe that you would be his doom. Not in the larger sense, but perhaps you were a saviour sent to sustain him and heal his tainted, weary soul. 

Your blood—flowing like a powerful river—called to him and that shrivelled part of his heart that had desperately tried to ignore the call. His face burrowed into the crook of your neck; nose pressed directly over the thumping pulse. 

When had he moved you from your treacherous perch only to fall to his knees? His legs spread apart with your own entwined, so you were straddling his left thigh. Your hips shifted forward, followed by a sultry gasp. 

He could feel the heat of your core infusing him through the layers of clothing between you. What he wouldn’t give to rip it all away, to push his more than capable fingers through the flimsy cotton barrier of your underwear until the naked touch he craved was satiated. 

“You don’t know what you’re asking… the consequences,” Levi huffed out, hot breath fanning your neck and his tongue chasing the dewy sheen coating your skin. 

Your fingers curled into the hairs at his nape, one arm anchored around his shoulder as if you were scared for even one second that his grip on you would falter. Levi smiled against your fluttering pulse—you would learn soon enough how redundant that worry was. 

He licked a path from your neck to jaw, nudging your cheek before nipping your earlobe, mindful of his descended fangs. “You don’t care, do you? Brave girl. Foolish girl. About to get into bed with the monster and you’re practically rutting on top of my thigh.” 

“Levi… please.” 

The rest of the room fell away from his conscious. No longer was he mindful of the man watching from his seat of power. He could care less for what he witnessed, Erwin had already seen far more than he cared to admit to, and whilst this was not something he entered into wanting to be seen by any prying eyes, he finally came to terms that his sire would not be denied their curiosity. 

“Shh, that’s enough. Listen to me and feel the beat of my heart inside your body,” he urged softly, projecting the slow rhythm of his weakened heart into your body to harmonise with yours.  

It thumped sluggishly in comparison to your thunderous beat. 

Within seconds the two unique beats melded beautifully into one harmony that echoed in both your chest and Levi’s. The power of it shook his ribcage, so accustomed to the weakened organ over his period of self-inflicted starvation. It hurt, but it hurt in a way that he craved. 

Your body undulated in a hypnotic wave; hips rocking forward and back whilst your core and upper torso swayed as if you were in a trance. Levi listened to your breathing—the even in and out—and hummed in satisfaction. You were calm despite it all. Again, he wondered if you were the bravest woman he had met or the most foolish. 

He found the will to bring his face out of your neck, guiding you to look at him and meeting eyes that burned with intelligence and awareness. It made what would come next easier, to know that you were lucid and in control of your desires. Yes, he projected his heartbeat into you, but he refused to even peek into your mind. Everything in this moment would be real, genuine, authentic. It was the only way he could go through with it. 

“You’ll feel me pierce the skin, but the sensation will be akin to being penetrated sexually,” he said in between spreading butterfly kisses to the corners of your mouth, his fingers tightening on your chin as you tried to chase after his lips. 

“I won’t take much, I swear it… just a taste.” Levi added, more to convince himself than you. 

Finally, he kissed you, giving in to the petulant little whine that escaped your throat. The soft bounty of your chest pressed into him, comforting and so warm that he could imagine finding restful sleep with his head cushioned by your pillowy breasts. 

He took his time despite the urgency thumping at the base of his skull. Levi luxuriated in the feel of your mouth against his, tongue working along the width of your bottom lip only to slip past the seam when you sighed. 

He savoured the taste of mint mingled with whatever balm glossed your lips. He stroked your tongue slowly, languidly, in exploration of what he would one day know intimately. 

He wanted to be the only thing in your lungs, stealing the air until he could fill you up with his essence. 

It was far from what he expected given how you were both practically sprawled on the floor and not alone in the room, but it didn’t detract from the sheer bliss of claiming your mouth as his own. He imagined how this might feel in the security of his bedroom, both of you tangled together in bed with the sheets mussed and wrapped around your limbs. 

If only he could shadowstep with you, but that was a power he had never possessed. To his knowledge, only very few vampires were powerful enough to move more than themselves, and some couldn’t even do that. 

Distantly, he heard a tongue click against teeth and knew that Erwin was reading his thoughts. It soured his mood, a snarl building in his throat only to be soothed by your hand on his cheek. Tentative fingers stroked the apple of his cheek, sweeping outward to his jaw and cooling the fire that had barely kindled before it was snuffed out. 

“So good to me,” he murmured, pathing kisses back to where he had found solace against your neck.  

His thumb caught beneath your chin, tilting your head up and allowing him access to carefully nip at the column of your throat. The skin coloured from the delicate scrape of his teeth, causing him to nose at the area, inhaling the smell of perfume and your own unique scent beneath. 

Levi’s hand tangled deep into your hair, cradling the back of your head and moving you into a perfect position. Your neck stretched nice and taut, the expanse calling to him to leave his mark behind in a clear demonstration of ownership. 

He wanted to. 

He didn’t want to. 

Confusion clouded his judgement until his animal brain roared in fury at the possibility of being denied. Levi could leave nothing but tiny pinprick marks if he so wished, or… he could leave an entire impression of his teeth to scar your flawless skin. Only time would tell which would be the result. 

His eyes closed as he leant in to rub his nose along your shoulder until he could hear the thump of your pulse, the song receding into a whisper as if it knew that something was coming, something was about to happen and change everything forever. He licked over his teeth, nearly nicking his tongue in the process, and pressed the tips to the vein that would pour into his mouth imminently. 

“Keep moving,” he urged, shifting his thigh upward to your decadent moans. 

Your fingers curled tighter into him, nails at his scalp and shoulder, biting through the crisp fabric of his dress shirt. Through the thin silk of your blouse, Levi could feel the peaks of your nipples stiffen and rub at his chest. He afforded himself a glance down and groaned long and low at the sight of your breasts pushed together and thrust out in a display of wanton lust. 

A part of him wondered if he was drawing out this moment because he was scared. In fact, scared barely scratched the surface of what he felt. Levi, the strongest soldier, a moniker he loathed, was terrified of what would happen the second he tasted you. 

His senses took over at that moment, the allure of the liquid life too irresistible to be denied a second longer. 

Your skin yielded to the intrusion of his fangs, like a sharp knife through the skin of a ripe peach. Blood burst like the freshest juices in a rush for freedom and he sagged in relief as the hot, metallic liquid pooled on the flat of his tongue. Levi felt you stiffen then grow lax, he could hear your whimpered little noises over the pounding of his heart, the organ kicking into full gear for the first time in months. 

At first, he couldn’t fully appreciate the depth of your blood; the need for sustenance too strong to allow him to see past his hunger, but as the pull lessened, everything shifted. 

Your blood flowed down his throat in a warm trickle, spicy and indulgent like the finest dark chocolate laced with chilli and salt. The flavour profile hit him all at once, your life force finding its way into his circulatory system and starting to pump through his veins and finally hitting his heart. 

It was like being struck by lightning. 

A single sharp bolt straight to the heart and he had to pull away from your neck to take a great sucking breath of air into his lungs. They burned from exertion—white hot and raging.  

His head spun, eyes whirring like globes spun too hard and fast by a child’s hand. After a moment, he glanced down and saw the leak of your blood, the thin sluggish spurts escaping the open wounds he had left and streaking your otherwise unmarked skin. 

The cream of your blouse was stained in crimson, an unwanted reminder of Erwin’s earlier warning.  

Your expression was one of sheer ecstasy as you continued, undeterred, to ride his thigh like it was a thoroughbred steed. Heat washed over your cheeks, dewy with sweat, and those eyes that moments ago were bright and intelligent now looked muted in a way one does after experiencing really good sex. 

You lunged for his face, palms cupping his cheeks and pulling him in for a fierce kiss full of tongue and teeth. His lips, bloodied from his quick snack, bruised into yours and he hastened to lick across your plush mouth to chase the remnants with a gnawing hunger for more. He’d laugh at your nipping teeth if he weren’t holding himself back from flipping you over and pressing your stomach into the antique rug to mount you like a beast. 

You were approaching the precipice, he could feel it in the tightening of your muscles and your stuttered breathing in between those demanding, near dominating kisses. He was drowning in you, and he was happy for it. The last time he felt happy was so far in the past that he barely recalled it. 

The wounds on your neck were closing; he licked the area and left a wet imprint of his tongue in the mess of red. Levi fumbled with the top buttons of your blouse, impatient, and the sound of ripping silk rent the air. Despite the impatience, he was careful to keep your modesty intact from the other man in the room. 

Erwin was watching you grind your clothed clit and pussy over Levi’s thigh, so what did it matter? 

It mattered to him all the same. 

The lace of your bra spilled into his hands, rough texture scratching deliciously at his fingertips and palms. He held the weight of those wonderful mounds, thumbs working across your perky nipples until you arched into the touch. 

“Again… once more,” you said, and Levi barely recognised your voice. It was a whole octave lower and thick with arousal. 

His body agreed with your request and before he could blink, he lowered the cups and took your nipple into his mouth. Hotly, he swiped over the pert bud and suckled it deeper into his mouth.  

All this time and he hadn’t much paid attention to the throbbing ache in his dick. Levi was rock hard and trapped behind underwear and trousers. The forgotten organ didn’t need direct stimulation, not when you were keening so pretty whilst you got yourself off. If he came in his boxers like a pup, then so be it because he wasn’t going to make any effort to change a thing. 

“Blood singer… you are my everything,” he stated without thought. The words were conjured by something other than his brain, as if his soul—if he believed he had one—spoke directly. 

The song he had heard from that first meeting seemed to imprint upon his subconscious and became one with him. It was quiet and lilting, far softer now that the first taste had happened. Your blood flowed through him, even if not very much.  

Levi understood things he never thought he would and yet he couldn’t articulate them. 

You whimpered and shook, all your movements losing any form of cohesion and that’s when he struck for the second time. He waited until he could sense your orgasm flowing from your body into his, the sensations hitting him square in the chest, to pierce the vein running across the top of your ample left breast. 

Fireworks burned behind his closed eyelids at the first pulls, the decadent liquid filling his mouth until it spilled past the seam of his lips. He would gorge himself if he wasn’t careful, and distantly he recalled his promise not to take much. 

The effort was immense, but one mouthful was all he consumed. Holding you to him whilst you rode the wave of bliss to completion and beyond. Levi could feel wet warmth staining his trouser leg as well as his crotch. 

You shuddered once more and before Levi could kiss you, praise you for your efforts and how well you had done… you passed out cold in his arms. 

Levi blinked—stricken once more. 

He caught Erwin’s gaze for the first time in what felt like forever and saw the panic etch across his face in slow motion. The man was rising, hand outstretched in warning but before he could do anything—the two of you blinked out of existence. 

Erwin stood alone in his office. 

His world had changed incalculably in this past hour. He only hoped he could find the positive amongst the uncertainty. 

If not…  

Levi would be unstoppable. 

[th3-c0ll3ct3r]

WAKE UP BITCHES ISKALL DROPPED AND IMMA EVALUATE IT-

Especially considering I was never a fan of him in the first place I will have no bias in this horse race

Video:

The entire video genuinely sounds like a more constructive Dream allegations video minus the detective outfit and 2hrs of rambling and a serious lack of evidence due to privacy reasons which kind of, so lightly sound like an excuse

He claims that when he was alerted to these allegations, he was given a 1hr and 30 minutes deadline to produce proof to the Hermits he didn't do anything

He then contact the police and a lawyer

Girl we are going to pause right here because stunning that you contacted the police and a lawyer but if you didn't do the things that you're alleged or doing then you would have proof that you didn't do those things like the whole situation could it take in 20 minutes

If he didn't do even one of the things he was accused of it would have taken less than the hour and a half he was given to screen share his screen with multiple Hermits and just start scrolling through Discord

Then he goes on to say that he wasn't given enough time etc... And that they'd rushed him.

There have been MULTIPLE sources stating they tried for MONTHS to get into contact with the Hermits.

But IT IS odd that when he was "notified" of his wrongdoings, he first went to the police and a lawyer, DESPITE a hermit telling you first. If everyone knows then it's not a matter of privacy anymore.

Like personally if that was me, I'd have jumped into Discord no questions asked, shown the proof THEN contacted a lawyer for defamation or other relating charges

It's very unusual for someone to go the legal route in the situation not because it's never been done before it's because it's a waste of money and time. They will not gaf. Most cases in the similar situations come out with inconclusive responses and the person does not come out with a response themselves as their is seemingly enough evidence to smear their name and they would not like to proceed if there's that much evidence.

And it's VERY clear he's going the "innocent till proven guilty" route. Which is fair enough.

But, and I cannot stress this enough, HE'S NOT BEING ACCUSED OF TEXTING MINORS

He's being accused of having inappropriate relationship with multiple members of his audience/community and moderators, and using his Discord server as the catalyst for it all.

Which is especially alarming as some have said he's a moderator for them, which IN SOME PLACES is illegal to have a boss/employee relationship.

But it genuinely sounds like he's missing the point, as a content creator you have to hold yourself to higher responsibilities, accountability and credibility then the rest of your community. And even if it's not illegal, it's EXTREMELY INAPPROPRIATE for a content creator to have any form of relations with a fan, WITHOUT it being for certain types of videos (like challenges or servers) or for commissions/work

So unless they were gaining genuine service or having particular videos, having that sort of PM relationships with your fans is inappropriate, especially if your working with them or not. It's not appropriate at all.

He then blames it on cancel culture. WHICH GIRL-

I've seen alot of things pumped out of Hermitcraft fans but "cancel culture" IS NOT ONE OF THEM

Blaming it on cancel culture is the biggest excuse, genuinely.

He acts like it was public execution, even through its been CONFIRMED from MULTIPLE SOURCE that people tried for months to get into contact with the Hermits, so the END OF THE INAPPROPRIATE RELATIONS WITH MEMBERS OF YOUR COMMUNITY SHOULD HAVE BEEN WARNING NUMBER 1-

Like imagine all the people you allegedly had relations with suddenly all wanted to cut contact, did you think they would just disappear?

Cancel Culture, is when you're cut from your career for doing something OBJECTIVELY stupid, as it becomes a growing trend. It's unserious and often a social media trend.

Iskall's situation was not apart of cancel culture because it's genuine. And he knows it's genuinely enough to take legal action, meaning that in some capacity he did do at least 20% of what he's been accused of, to have grounds for a cases

So he's done SOMETHING it's just not what he thinks it is/isn't like what's allegedly

Then he goes on to talk about a developer he defended after they scammed him and we're generally not nice.

I have yet to see this developer anywhere and to my knowledge they have not pushed any allegations onto him.

He instead brings up this developer, because he defended them when they did something that was seemingly objectively wrong and it's meant to be a display of his good character

Personally I would have not used that as an example. Using an example of you defending someone when you in the same breath claimed that they had wronged you is putting the notion in your fans and audiences heads that even "if I do something wrong you should defend me because it was only a silly little mistake and it's the right thing to do"

And it was unnecessary. Completely unnecessary. He wants to be a display of a good character yet also once privacy so that's why he shares a personal story of him defending someone who wronged him so show that he's a good person who gives second chances? But then implies in the video that he had to give that person more than one chance?

And I think Goodtimeswithscar said it better then me. GASLIGHTING he's hardcore gaslighting.

It is similar to what Mr Beast, did with his allegations. Actually it's almost a copy.

Instead of completely addressing it he only addresses what he wants to in the face of privacy. He then brings up all the good things he's done to make him seem more trustworthy and like a better person even. And then he pays someone to investigate himself to find himself not guilty.

Iskall it's literally doing the same thing. He only addresses what he wants to because of privacy even though he knew about the situation before he got a lawyer, he uses the worst example possible to show that he's a trustworthy person, and then he pays for a lawyer himself to prove that he is not guilty.

Having the police and lawyers is meant to make it seem more 'fair'. But as we all know the police will only do so much before a lawyer has to step in. And if you're paying for the lawyer yourself obviously the lawyer is going to have bias because they want to do a good job because you are paying them to do a good job.

It's the most hardcore gaslighting I've ever seen.

And worst of all he might actually get away with it, because like Mr Beast he has a younger audience who will not understand how much he's trying to Gaslight them.

So to conclude, he's doing a Dream / Mr Beast remix on a smaller scale because money. And he's getting lawyer involved and unless they're suing for defamation, then there's nothing to sue for because no one is accusing him of pedophilia they are accusing him of having inappropriate relationships with his audience which is a big no-no for content creators..

Now for Stressmonster

Girl dug herself either a hole or a grave and now has to lie in it.

They tried to protect her dignity and integrity by not stating the reason why she left but it's now clear to many why she also left.

And yet again I would like to make it very clear like no one is accusing him of actually committing a crime (UNLESS HE LIVES IN AN AREA THAT MAKES IT ILLEGAL FOR BOSS AND EMPLOYEES/COWORKERS TO HAVE A RELATIONSHIP) he's being accused of having inappropriate relationships with members of his community and moderators, which is not a very good thing if you're a content creator

Its not a jailable offence unless *see point above*, and to be like "I'm standing with you 100% of the way!", is more telling about your priorities than 'what is right'

They act as if hermitcraft is a cult, that kicks members out for not conforming.

But I am entirely on the side of HermitCraft in the fact that I would indeed, kick Iskall out/get him to resign, if he'd had inappropriate relations with mods and fans REGARDLESS OF IF THEY WERE ADULTS

Because the main audience for Hermitcraft ARE CHILDREN. KIDS. NON-ADULTS

AND HE'S ENDANGERING THEM AS WELL AS THERE COMMUNITY EVEN IF IT'S NOT MINORS HE'S MESSAGING

LIKE GROWING UP IN A COMMUNITY WHERE IF YOU EVENTUALLY REACH AN ACCEPTABLE AGE YOU GET TO HAVE A PRIVATE RELATIONSHIP WITH THE CONTENT CREATOR YOU'VE BEEN IDOLISING FOR YOUR CHILDHOOD ARE YOU INSANE?

Overall he's digging himself a grave and handing out shovel.

And also. To be sosososososo clear.

NEVER. SEND. DEATH. THREATS. TO. ANYONE.

[tonycries]

Madam Gojo - G.S.

Synopsis. Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, arranged marriage, Satoru is a little (very) INSANE and down bad, the elders are awful, oral (fem receiving), use of “madam”, unprotected, créampie, kníves, overstím, féral Satoru, heinous things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.9k

A/N. I need clan leader Gojo SO bad you guys don’t understand.

They say that the head of the Gojo clan is the one person who could burn down this entire world and get away with it, too. 

The youngest of all the clan leaders - and the most infamous - a man who keeps his friends close, and his enemies even closer. Enough so that you’ve heard whispers of his cruelty at every nook and cranny of those stuffy social functions your family has dragged you to. And it was more than enough to paint a picture of such terrifying power.

Of a sharp blade and an even sharper mouth. Of an angelic figure that left no evidence, nor anyone to tell the tale - only the final, hauntingly beautiful image of cloudy white hair, and electric blue eyes.

Eyes that were currently locked with yours, and didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon. Dangerous. Magnetic. Twinkling with such odd amusement from across the long tatami room. 

Gojo Satoru, the head of the Gojo clan - your future husband.

“Tch, the Kamo girl’s family had a much better reputation than this one.”

Ah, right. How could you forget?

You shift awkwardly on the mat, managing to rip your eyes over to the line of elders behind Gojo, whispering just loud enough that you’d hear - and, of course, remember once more that no, the marriage proposal hasn’t been approved just yet.

And considering those disapproving glares you’d been so warmly welcomed with, it seemed that they were well and fully intent on keeping it that way.

“I can assure you,” you fight to keep the polite smile plastered on your face, painful and slowly cracking with each passing second being interrogated. “My family is well-respected in the community.” Eyes snapping over to a silent Gojo, skin burning at his intensity. “Very well respected.”

“Come now. We’re just saying.” Another voice speaks up, strained and tinged with a venomous tone you knew didn’t bode well. “Your lineage isn’t exactly illustrious, is it?”

The emphasis on “illustrious” isn’t lost on you, and it’s so fucking dramatic than you think you could almost laugh. Apparently, a few of the elders think so, too - because they’re positively seething at the sight.

Muttering an icy, “Something funny, dear?”

“Nothing at all.” you bite back any insults, sifting around the contents of your untouched dinner - the last thing on your mind right now when it seemed like you were the main scrutiny tonight. “Absolutely nothing.”

“Such attitude!” That offended croak is met with murmured agreements and nods from the end of the room, “The madam of the Gojo household must be demure- I told the young master we should go with the Kamo girl.”

God, why did you agree to this again? Something about strengthening your family ties? You felt sorry for the poor soul who’d end up marrying Gojo, because no matter how much beauty or power he held, it certainly wouldn’t make up for this. 

Scoffing, the words falling from your lips faster than you could register them. “Then why didn’t he?”

And this little question somehow seemed to have struck a nerve - multiple, in fact, as you watch in morbid fascination as the elders visibly bristle. 

“B-because-” one sends a hasty glance at their stone-faced clan leader, flushing at his still-unwavering gaze on you. “You- It doesn’t matter. Someone like you isn’t suited to marry-”

“Right, because this clan is that great.”

You freeze. The elders freeze. It seems like everyone in the world freezes except for Gojo - who only raises his brow. Letting your words hang in the air like a foul stench, studying just how awfully you’re digging your grave deeper in this hellish marriage meeting.

Eventually, the elder closest to Gojo’s right mutters a painfully saccharine sweet, “I knew we shouldn’t have let the riff-raff participate.”

And oh it was like a dam burst open.

“-out of the thousands of girls, for someone like master-”

“The scandal, too- imagine letting the Gojo name fall this far-”

“Isn’t worthy. Can’t let the bloodline be carried by some whor-”

You’re on your feet before you realize it. Whirling at the elders head-on, and if looks could kill then all those old fossils would be six feet under and their graves a dance floor for you already. 

Fists clenched, you spit, “If he’s so wonderful then you all can marry this oh-so-great bastard yourself-”

Oh. You’ve done it now.

You were fucked. You were so very, very fucked. 

You don’t even bother to meet Gojo’s stare, instead wondering whether you’d be able to outrun the strongest clan leader alive. Sure, you could take those old toads but-

“Sit.”

Your heart leaps at the voice, the first time you’re hearing it since entering this room - deep, almost-melodic, and for a second you don’t even recognize who it came from. Not until Gojo’s flashing you a mirthful grin, blue yukata shifting as he moves to sit cross-legged, “Sit.”

Oh, God, you didn’t know of any torture methods one could do while sitting - but you didn’t doubt that Gojo was an expert in all of them. 

And as your knees buckle, sinking ever-so-slowly to sit back down on the floor, Gojo tilts his head in confusion. Brows scrunching together as he gestures downwards.

“On your…lap?” You question, as if the answer wasn’t glaringly obvious. 

The only response you get is a careless nod, Gojo spreading his knees further as if to prove his point. No care or concern as he plows on, “If you’d like, of course.”

It’s a silent staredown - you, and him - and the elders watching jaw-dropped, of course. None of you have ever known the young master to let anyone get this close - let alone give them a decision on, well, anything.

. 

A weighty beat passes. One. Two. 

He wins.

And you find yourself walking unsteadily towards Gojo’s imposing figure, all eyes on you as you plop down unceremoniously in his waiting lap. Warm - and it catches you off guard. Gaze flickering over his broad shoulder to look at the aghast faces behind you. Tension crackling in the air as they wonder the same thing as you at this very moment - just what type of torture method is this? 

“Interesting…I need this one.” You blink up in confusion, heart racing and oh- shit, when did he get so close? But Gojo’s chest only rumbles with laughter. Circling his long fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his sculpted chest, “As the new madam of the Gojo household.”

What? 

The elders behind let out stifled gasps, as bewildered as you were. And you swear you saw one faint, though, you don’t get to take a close look, because Gojo’s gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head up at his pretty face. 

“Wan’ me to kill them?”

“Kill- why?” you sputter - both from his idea and the heat of his proximity. 

“Why not?” He looks at you through his long lashes, so deceivingly innocent that it makes your head spin. Tone so light, as if he was talking about something trivial like the weather. “An early wedding gift, maybe?” And he sounded like he was joking - you wished he was joking. But you knew better. 

So you swallow thickly, “N-no…thank you.”

At this, Gojo’s eyes twinkle. “Yeah, real interesting.” he coos, voice so uncharacteristically playful. And his lips are so close - too close. Running a thumb along your bottom lip, “Gorgeous, too. Tell me, pretty, what do you think of ruling over this trash?”

And you could feel every eye on you as you mull over the question. Weighty. Scrutinizing - except for Gojo who seemed like he was hanging onto your every word. 

Hell, might as well give ‘em a few heart attacks right?

Words that never come - because your body moves before your mind. And you’ve got one hand gripping his expensive Yukata, the other scrambling for his broad shoulders. Softening the blow as you crash your lips onto his.

Soft - it’s the first thing you register. Followed very shortly by the taste of those cheap lollipops from those local convenience stores you loved - strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because the kiss is over as soon as it happens.

Gojo’s pulling away with a strange light in his eyes, lips flushed a pretty pink, yukata dangling off his shoulder already. You have to train your eyes away from the milky skin, and over to the elders. Yeah, one really had fainted - three, now, actually. 

And only one of them is brave enough to pipe up a rapid, “You- how dare you dirty-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. In a split second, there’s a long dagger pulled out from his yukata, embedded deep into the tatami mat - not even an inch away from the elder who’d opened his mouth. 

“Out.” 

It’s so abrupt that for a second, you think Gojo’s talking to you, voice soft, and so so eerie. It sends shivers down your spine as you raise your eyes to look at his glare at the frozen crowd behind him.

Eyes wide, aura menacing - a grin gracing his features, absolutely nothing like the one he’d sent you - it was something so dangerous and cold. The temperature in the room dropping about ten degrees as he mutters, “I won’t say it twice.”

And immediately, it’s chaos. Each one stumbling over the other to run out the sliding doors first, none of them daring to look you in the eyes now. 

“O-of course, master.” the leader, seemingly, chokes out. One foot out the room already, “I’ll um- check that the servants are doing their work-”

“No. You all will stand outside.” Gojo murmurs, not even bothering to look at them. Instead, cupping your face closer towards his, “And close the door.”

That door could not have been shut faster, ringing in the tense silence. And suddenly you’re too-aware of the audience outside. Too-aware of being left alone with…your future husband? And the way he was looking down at you with something so dark in his eyes.

“So…” he runs his nose down your neck, breathing in your scent. “If you don’t want me to kill those bastards…what else must I gift you, my wife?” 

“Like what?” You gulp, back arching involuntarily into him. 

Gojo laughs at the reaction, teeth ghosting over your racing pulse. “An estate?” Dancing ever-so-slowly, up your jaw, “All the cars you could want?” He blows gently in your ear, chuckling as you yelp in surprise. “Maybe jewelry?” Kissing the tips of your ears, “You’d look gorgeous in blue. And the Zenin clan has the perfect necklaces I can…convince them to send over.” He pulls away, taking you in entirely, “Or maybe-” Lips now ghosting yours. “-something else?”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Gojo’s lips were so sweet on yours. So addictive. Palms cradling your face so softly, while his lips were anything but. 

“Open your mouth, pretty.” he pants into your lips. “Kiss your husband properly, now.”

Shit, you barely even realize the way you’re listening to every single word he says. Jaw falling slack to let him lick at the seam of your lips. Such a messy clash of teeth and spit and him - so hot and starved. Like he couldn’t get enough with the way he hastily moves to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. 

“Satoru-” you gasp, and he nips lightly at your bottom lip once you immediately shut yourself up because shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Calling the clan leader Gojo by his first name? Hell, you’ll see the gates of heaven before you see an altar. 

But Gojo himself seems to think the complete opposite. “Don’t get all shy now.” he pries away the hand covering your mouth. “Call me ‘Toru’.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, trying to will yourself to say this little nickname.

Too slow, apparently. Because his hands are suddenly everywhere - on your breasts, your hips, giving your ass a slow squeeze. “T-Toru-” you squeal. 

Gojo’s mouth drops into a soft oh! Immediately surging forward as if to claim your lips again - stopping mere millimeters from your lips with a pained grunt. Like it killed him to stay away. 

“See? Jus’ like that.” he angles your head just right, before spitting, once. Twice. Right into your pretty mouth. “N’ now you’re mine.”

And fuck if Gojo wasn’t going to prove it.

He’s laying you down on the mat, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Mine to wed. Mine to carry my legacy.” Thumb running over your hardened nipples as he urgently unbuckles your bra, throwing it behind god-knows-where. “Mine to-” Biting down, ever-so-lightly on your nipple, “-worship.” Hands dipping lower, and lower - just barely teasing the hem of your drenched panties. “Mine to ruin.”

You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - maybe from those words, which you’re sure he said loud enough for the elders outside to hear.

Maybe from the way he’s sliding a finger underneath your panties, sliding it up and down your puffy folds. Making you arch into him like such a slut as he pools your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips, popping them into his mouth with a low groan. 

“Oh. Fuck. Oh, fuck-” Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Not wasting a second before ripping off your flimsy panties, tucking them away into the waistband of his yukata. “Sweeter than I imagined.”

“S-so filthy-” you mewl, as he spreads your shaky thighs. Lips wobbling pathetically at how he’s admiring your glistening cunt. “Toru, no one’s ever…”

At this, his eyes are back on yours now. Half-lidded, pupil’s blown - and you don’t think you’ve ever even heard of the leader of the Gojo clan being so out of it, let alone see it first-hand. His voice strained as he breathes out a barely audible, “Shit- really? So then…” He’s moving to lick lewd little circles on your inner thigh, “...your husband’s gotta make this memorable, right?”

Gojo doesn’t give the time to even think about answering - he doesn’t trust that he has the fucking sanity to wait that long. Because you’re so pretty splayed out like this for him. Your moans too sweet. Your cunt too tempting. Too his. 

So, really, you can’t blame him when he’s plunging nose-deep into your quivering pussy, licking one, long stripe right up your swollen folds. And fuck the cute lil’ whines escaping your lips are so addictive that Gojo just can’t help but do it again. And again. And again and-

“O-oh my god, ngh- feels too good-” you card your fingers through his soft locks - something that would usually result in a lost hand or two. But for you - anything, for you. “More, Toru.”

Shit, if Gojo thought he’d lost his sanity before then he definitely wasn’t ready for this. 

“So needy.” he’s chuckling into your glistening folds. One hand throwing your legs over his shoulders, the other thumbing over your needy clit. “So perfect. Can’t believe no one’s ever hah- eaten out this pretty cunt before.”

Immediately, he’s squeezing his hot tongue past your folds. And it’s all you can do to buck your hips up so sluttily when he licks at your sloppy entrance. Your throbbing clit. Anywhere and everywhere Gojo could reach.

“Hngh- yes yes yes, too good.”

“Yeah? Ya like this?” He moves his fingers down from your already-ravaged clit, circling your sopping wet hole. “Ya like making such a mess on m’tongue?”

“W-wha-” The words get caught in your throat as you whirl down at the sight below you - Gojo. Gojo, with strands of white hair sticking to his forehead, eyes so glassy. Gojo, tongue lapping at your sweet juices, looking like he wanted to devour you with his eyes, as much as his mouth. 

At your reaction, he grins, furrowing his brow in mock-concern, “What’s wrong, pretty? Can’t talk?” Bullying his long fingers past that first feeble ring of resistance, massaging your plushy walls. “N’ you were so hah- feisty earlier. Thought my new mmpf- wife would be mouthy?”

You give his hair a warning tug, whispering, “Sh-shut up-” But it comes out more breathless than you intended. 

Gojo notices, of course he does. Because he’s letting out a whiny, “Sh-shut up.” Wrapping his pretty pink lips around your pulsing clit, “As you wish, madam Gojo.”

You hear a dull thud from outside, but you can’t even think about turning your head to look because Gojo’s drinking you in like a man possessed. Pumping his fingers in and out, expertly hitting that one spot with each and every thrust. Looking nothing like an infamous clan-leader and every bit on cloud nine as he rolls his tongue over your clit. Over and over and-

“P-please ah- oh-” you squirm.

“Move your hips like that. Yeah- jus’ like that, pretty- fuck-” The most powerful man in the country letting himself be angled and pulled as you pleased, grunting each time you drag your pussy all over his mouth. Fingers frenzied on your clit - sloppy. Fast. 

But it still wasn’t enough for Gojo - he thinks it’ll probably never be. But that’s fine - the two of you have until the wedding night to perfect it, right?

So he’s looping a big arm around one leg, pulling your snug cunt impossibly closer, reaching over to toy with your pretty clit. And then he’s nose-deep in your sloppy entrance, preparing you for what was to come - fucking you both on his tongue and his fingers. 

Jaw grinding deeper, stretching you out, thrusting in and out in and out in and-

“Fuck fuck fuck- Toru m’so…”

“Close?” he slurs into your cunt, grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Fingers just digging into your hips, sure to leave pretty little marks for him to admire later - and to give a message to those old toads outside. “Cum f’me. Shit- cum f’me, pretty.”

Gojo realizes it before you when you’re finally cumming - because your gummy walls are squeezing around him so tight that it’s almost difficult fuck you through your high the way he wants. 

You’re shaking. Blood roaring in your ears, vision spotty. Crying out a hoarse, “Fuck fuck fuck- oh my god, Toru-” Barely even realizing the way you’re rocking your hips so hard into his hot mouth. 

And Gojo keeps going. 

Even when you’re blinking your vision back, big fat tears pricking your eyes at the sheer overstimulation. Even when white-hot electricity sparks behind your eyes each flick of his tongue. Still toying with your poor clit, tonguefucking you so messily. 

“Toru, s’too- ngh- much- fuck.” You can barely get the words out, jolting. Wondering how the fuck his mouth wasn’t tired, yet - how his fingers weren’t cramping up, tongue still as greedy as ever. “C-can’t-”

“You can. You will.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Running his mouth now, like he was drunk off your pussy. Words as fast and ragged as his tongue. “C’mon, faster. Harder. Fuck-” you flinch as he spits out little profanities into your messy cunt. “Fuckin use me. Use me like the good lil’ wife you are.”

“Oh- shit.” you whine. Clawing at the mats, Gojo’s hair, his shoulders - just anything to cope with the sheer stimulation as he made out with your pussy like a mad man. “Wait- cum- m’gonna…”

You’re cumming and cumming all over again. So hard, even as you grind your hips deeper into Gojo’s mouth. Riding out your orgasm on his pretty face, so painfully good. 

And only then is he finally pulling away. Absolutely wrecked, eyes miles away already, mouth glistening with your slick. Going all the way down his jawline, and onto the tatami mat in a deafening drip! drip! drip!

“Oh.” he runs his tongue along his wet lips. “Who made you cum like this?” 

A smile slowly splits across his face as you manage out a little, “Y-you, Toru…”

“That’s fuckin’ right. Me.” Hypnotized by the heavenly sight of you all fucked-out and twitching with the aftershock. Marveling down at his hand - glossy, and covered with your slick, “N’ m’gonna love you.”

And, well, a good husband always shares, right?

Because Gojo’s shoving his fingers past your kiss-bitten lips, pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knew would have your eyes watering, gagging around him so prettily. Eyes widening at the feeling of something so hard and hot between your legs. 

“C’mon, lil’ madam. Lick them clean f’me, will you?”

You’re gasping, “Mmpf- Toru-” Eyes flitting between a smug Gojo and the hand currently untying his robe. So teasing with the way he’s giving you just a flash of those boxers before oh-

Shit. 

You thought that he’d be big - it was expected, in fact. But this was fucking ridiculous. 

All sculpted curves and dips of his body, faint scars painting his milky skin - stories he’d tell you about later, you think. A fucking masterpiece. All the way down, down, down to where his throbbing cock was leaking all over those tufts of white at his toned pelvis.

Rock-hard, and so so angry. Prominent veins running along the side, flushed a shade of pretty pink that glistened with precum in the dim lighting. So intimidatingly long that it already had you worrying for your poor cervix, and thick enough that it had your thighs pressing mindlessly together. 

Something that Gojo obviously didn’t appreciate.

“Now now.” he tuts, pulling back his fingers to spread apart your thighs with ease. So far apart that it burned. “I need these legs open, pretty. I like the view, y’see.”

And he made it quite obvious, too. Spreading your swollen folds so shamefully apart with his thumb - wet with your split. All the blood rushing to his cock at the way you flinch in embarrassment, at the feeling of being so used. Cute. 

“Shhh, relax.” Gojo hums. Spreading the spit and slick lazily along your cunt with his fat head, purposely letting it smear all over your thighs. “M’gonna make this feel so good for you.”

And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a merciless man - for everyone. 

Except maybe his cute lil’ wife. 

Because, yes, he’s suddenly splitting you apart on his massive cock. Yes, he’s holding your poor hips still, head dropping into the crook of your neck as he sinks in inch by fucking inch. 

But oh God does he have to hold back from fucking your tight cunt exactly the way he wants. The stretch too sinful, your pussy too heavenly. 

Instead he’s kissing away the single tear rolling down your cheek, muttering, “Too big? Aww, f-fuck, pretty. You needa breathe-.” Rich, coming from him considering that Gojo doesn’t know if he was breathing right now. Too caught up in the way he’s rolling your swollen clit between his fingers, gasping into your open mouth, “Trust me. M’gonna make it f-feel hah- good. So fucking good.”

“F-fuck-” Your head is spinning. And you can only give him such delirious little nods as Gojo starts to push in quick, lazy little grinds of his hips just to squeeze inside your gummy walls. Past that first, tight ring of resistance. 

“S’too big-” you squeal, nails raking down his back. “A-are you all the way in- yet?”

“Nope.” he’s popping the p, so unfairly smug. “Not even halfway in.” Drinking in all your cute lil’ sobs as he snakes a hand up to draw an invisible line across your stomach. “But you b-better be prepared, wifey. Because this-” Pressing down, hard. “-is where I’ll be.”

You didn’t know who wanted that to become a reality more - Gojo or you. 

Especially with the way your tight cunt is sucking him up so good, and shit for all Gojo’s reputation, he feels like he could’ve cum right then and there. 

“Shit- so fucking tight. God- you’re gonna make me lose my mind.” words so strained. So dangerous. He kisses down your neck, biting right above your racing pulse. “How do you want it? Like you’re my hah- wife- or my lil’ slut?”

A trick question, you think - as much as you could when you’re this cockdrunk, at least. 

Locking eyes down at the way your cunt was bulging so obscenely around his cock, clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in in in- Unstopping. Relentless. Mewling a little, “L-like I’m your…wife.” 

“Louder.”

“Like I’m your wife.”

Several things happen at once - that faint muttering suddenly increases tenfold, and maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed the few gasps. Gojo, however, does hear. 

It only takes an irritated growl and a split-second flash of metal for a second dagger to be struck deep into the thin wooden panel of the door - unfortunately for whoever just so happened to be on the other side. 

“That’s right. My wife.” And then he’s bottoming out - heavy balls smacking your ass, leaky tip nudging your poor cervix, letting you mark him up all you want as he rocks his hips faster into yours. “And you- ah- you realize they’re beneath you, right?” he’s stroking where he can feel himself bulging inside you. “That my lil’ wife just has to say the word n’ I’ll ngh- take ‘em all out?” 

You can only sob at the pressure, because his words are so soft but he’s fucking you so mean. Sounding like he was losing his sanity with each time your heavenly walls milked him. 

“I’ll kill ‘em- kill ‘em all-” he’s gritting out. “Hell, I’ll take down the r-rest of those clans ah- too if it pleases you.” Fingers getting so erratic on your clit, angling his hips just right to try and find- 

“Hngh- f-fuck, Toru- there-”

That.

So sloppy with the way he’s alternating between hitting that one spot and just abusing your cervix. Bruising - like he wanted to mark you everywhere n’ show it off, too. Biting down your neck, whispering into the skin, “Anything for you, madam.”

Rocking his hips harder, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck about the lewd little pool of slick and split forming on the mat below. Can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted. 

“Feels good?” he’s drinking in your adorable sobs, “S’what you imagined?”

You’re torn between running away and fucking your hips up so bruisingly into his, hells digging into the mat as you push and pull away. “Yes. Feels- ah- ngh-” And for all your mouthiness earlier, you can’t even form coherent sentences right now - something that makes Gojo balls squeeze so painfully.

Something that has him wrapping his arms around your legging, dragging you like some ragdoll back to him. Rocking his hips so bruisingly deeper and deeper as he babbles. 

“Gonna make you c-cum. So hard.” He’s fucking you harder into the mat. Faster. Sloppier. “Gonna ngh- make you my beautiful bride.” Bouncing you on his painfully hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside - to leave marks for everyone in the clan to know. His balls on your ass, your nails down his shoulders, lips on your neck leaving little bites. “Gonna make you mine, pretty. And everyone else s’gonna know.”

And Gojo can tell when you’re close because he’s learned that you have a habit of squeezing him to insanity when you are. 

“Close?” At your delirious nod he’s giving you a blinding grin, “How cute. Why don’t you hah- cum f’me like the good lil’ wife you are, hm?”

Cum for him you do - thighs shaking, body jolting. So hard and violent that you’re covering him in all your sweet sweet juices. 

And he can only watch - awe-struck - as your pretty pussy squirts all over his angry cock glistening, and just drenched with your slick now. Beads of it getting all over his burning abs, trickling down every dip and curve as he uses your quivering pussy harder and harder-

“God, you’re so good f’me. Look how much you came.” Giving a final, harsh thrust. “So perfect f’me.”

So fucking smug as he finally cums as well. Letting out a low, muffled moan into your neck as he fills your poor pussy with rope after rope of seed, painting your walls such a sinful white. All the way until he was sure you were bloated with his cum, until he could feel it dribbling down the side. Looking down to confirm and- ah, sure enough, it was such a heavenly sight - thick globs drenching your clothes below. Spreading in a pool as his hips push deeper and deeper. 

Like it hurt to stop. Like it hurt to even think of tearing his eyes away from you. 

But, alas, this old meeting room could only take so much, and Gojo thinks you’ll enjoy his - your - bedroom much better for round two.

Which is how the elders outside found the door kicked open not too long after. Blinking up in shock at the tall figure of the Gojo clan leader at the frame holding you. Tired and limp in a princess carry, all bundled up your yukata and one of his outer robes. 

And they can only avert their eyes, faces burning at the hazy expression on your face, hair so unsubtly messy, bare legs twitching ever-so-slightly from where they were just peeking out from where the fabric had bunched up. Sinful. Desecrated. And evidently his. 

“Clean that room up.” 

Gojo’s stern command snaps them all out of their reverie. 

But before they could all run to do so, he’s plowing on, unapologetic and low. “Oh, and bow down-” chuckling lightly as they scramble to their knees before him - and your barely-lucid figure. “-to the new madam of the Gojo household.

A/N. On my period I’m gonna cry. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Till death do us part ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : What if Alastors dear little darling wife, his partner in crime, the person he thought he'd never see again, turns up with Mimzy on the day of the visit of the big boss of hell.

Pairing : Alastor x fem! Reader

Word count : 1899 Words

Genre : Fluff , Drama , Angst

Warnings ➵ Mentions of death, you're shorter than

Vaggie, possessive Alastor, swearing

Prequel -> > The radio star lost <

a/n : I love this trope ngl, tried to not make him to much out of character, hope it worked.. T T

Also I'm rather new to Hazbin Hotel, so I say sorry if anythings seems wrong or out of character! ><

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

The whole hotel was a bit chaotic right now, Lucifer himself would be visiting in just a bit and Charlie wanted everything to be perfect. Colorful decorations were hanging everywhere, a banner was hung up for welcoming the king of hell, how does one even welcome the king of hell into their hotel? Charlie was probably the most stressed of all, but Vaggie did her best to calm her nervous wreck of a girlfriend down.

The moment Lucifer stepped into the hotel was meant to make everything go down, Alastor and his Ego had somehow always a snarky remark against Lucifer. Charlie tried her best to keep them apart, introducing her other friends, before she announced how she would be needing his help. And again the banter between the king of hell and the radio demon started all over again. As if throwing insults at each other before wasn't enough already, now they were pulling at Charlie left and right, like two babies fighting over a toy.

But all things come to an end, which Charlie was thankful for right now, as Mimzy, apparently a friend of Alastor, which was interesting to know he even had any, came barging in with a grand entrance. As the woman now settles down at the bar, talking with the others, Alastor and Charlie took Lucifer on a walk around, Husker disappearing for a second too, but soon joining them at the bar again, a scowl on his face, but something else, undescribable behind his eyes.

A bang was heard through the whole hotel as the entrance door was slammed open and heard could be an angry voice. "MIMZY! You little bitch!" A demon, a slight bit shorter than Vaggie probably, walked in. A scowl evident on the face, as her eyes scan over the place, before falling on the woman she was looking for. "How dare you leave me in the shit like that?! You've got it coming if those sharks don't kill you, I certainly will!" Ignoring the questioning looks of Angel and Husker, you stomp over to the blonde, ready to yank at her hair, when suddenly a bit of debris was thrown through the window and landed beside you, barely missing you by a hair. "The fuck?" The demon's head craned around, looking out the window and there they were, those fuckers Mimzy was in debt to.

You didn't really have time to react much, as three people stormed into the entrance hall, all you could catch was a glimpse of red before the person ran outside, screams of the sharks could be heard, at least those were finally taken care of.

The loan sharks were gone and fought off quickly by that person, his voice now directed to Mimzy, your own eyes on her yourself with a scowl. She and that red demon apparently knew each other quite well, as Mimzy was walking to the door, you finally really looked at the demon. He had short red and black hair, ears sat atop his head, despite scowling Mimzy he was smiling, though a sinister smile it seems. His attire was almost completely red too, a cane was clutched in his hands, as he watched Mimzy walk off, you could only make out a small part of his face. The man seemed so familiar as if you had known him for a long time.. Your heart was running a mile right now, it was getting hard to breathe, and then...

"Thank you Alastor, really.." The long-haired blonde spoke up.. That name, it couldn't be right? Mimzy would've told you, she knew him, she would've definitely told you.. right? You must be mistaken right now.. Your eyes were fixated on the man called Alastor, the voices and sounds around you were all a mush, drowned out as your brain was going all around. Now that you could see his face, he definitely had some resemblance to him.. to your late husband, who had died before you. You were his assistant, his partner in crime, when the news hit you that he was shot, it broke your heart, but still, you continued on alone, killing. That's probably what also got you to hell, well sooner than later you were figured out and soon arrived here in hell.

"Yo smiles, this girly is gawking at you for minutes now." Slowly voices were coming back to you, the white spider beside you talked, pointing his thumb at you, the red-haired now meeting your eyes, his ears straightening and standing alert like the ones of a deer caught in headlight. What irony if he was your Alastor, the irony of dooming him with deer-like features, after getting shot assumed for a deer while hiding one of the many bodies. That day you decided to let him go alone, oh if you just hadn't done that, maybe you both would be alive or you would've at least arrived together in hell.

Alastor was taking slow steps to you, the smile on his face looking strained, yet it never disappeared, his hand was reaching out for you but stopped. Eyes moving over your form, taking in everything. Resemblance to his wife evident, but.. how did he never notice you before? Had he ever met you, walked past, maybe even taken a second glance but dismissed this feeling he has right now.

Swiftly he grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him, ignoring the calls of his name of the other residents, his mind plagued by one only thought, more like one only person.. you.

Stumbling behind him, his grip rather firm on your wrist, yet it felt comforting as if you knew he would never hurt you. Not in your lifetime and also not now in your afterlife. Eyes watching the back of his head, you were wondering what expression his face harbors right now. Was he happy? Was he confused? Disappointed? Maybe he knew where you were all this time but didn't want to meet you. No, he wasn't like this. He may have been distant sometimes while alive, but in the end, he was always a darling to you. Taking care of you, just as he vowed on your wedding day. A distant memory, yet one of the most beautiful ones you have.

A door was opened and as you were pulled inside, the door closed. Steps echoed through the room, you noticed a forest on the other side of the room, but that didn't rather faze you, eyes on him again.. and him only. "Al-" You were interrupted by laughter, the man before you was hugging himself, his arms around him, yet you still weren't able to see his face. "D-Do you know.. How often have I thought about you?!" His voice was loud, a static sound like from a radio accompanied it. One of his hands was tearing at his hair now. "That bitch never told me... I'll make sure to kill her for that.. She kept you from me.." The laughter got even louder, as if the man before you was going insane.

This behavior was nothing new to you, he used to be like this, high on adrenalin when another murder was successful.. Or when he was close to being figured out by the police and detectives, yet he always slipped away right through their incapable fingers.

"I always wondered what happened to you, if you grew old with someone new.." If you were able to see his face right now, you would be able to see the sinister yet possessive smile on his face, his eyes darting around the room.

This all ended in a second when he felt a soft hand on his. He knew this hand, he also knew the person it belonged to like the front of his pocket. "I would never, I carried on alone in your memories, yet I was never as skilled as you darling, so sooner than later they connected all the dots to me." A low chuckle could be heard again, the static radio sound calmed down again too. The tall man slowly turned around now, his hand engulfing your own, his fingers softly running over your own, before he linked them together. How he had missed this feeling, despite having a distaste for people touching him, you were different. Your touch felt warm, like the summer sun kissing his skin, it felt comforting.

"I've missed you mon amour.." His voice was soft, probably the softest it had ever been since he had arrived in hell. His hand guides yours up to his lips, as he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a smile, now softer, on his lips. He was never one for kissing you on the lips, he definitely favored kissing your hand, like the gentleman he has always been. "I figured with how you were talking seconds ago my dear.." A soft smile was creeping up onto your lips too, mirroring his own one. Red eyes open again, your hand still pressed to his face, but now he was rather holding your hand to his cheek. "Oh how I wished I could've stayed with you my darling, we would've been so successful.." Giggling at his words, with him at your side, you probably would have been going for a long time. "But who says we can't be successful now?" A smirk etched its way onto your husband's face, oh how he loved your daring little mind, always thirsting for blood. With you by his side again now, he would definitely be able to get everything done that he wanted.

"Shall we go back? I want to meet your friends properly." Wanting to pull away your hand, he softly gives you a tug, your head landing on his chest now. Wide eyes look the the side now, as you weren't really able to move, his arms having snaked around you and his chin resting on your head. This was unusual much physical contact, but figured that you hadn't seen each other for multiple decades he yearned for your touch just a slight bit. Your arms lying around him, embracing the hug. "Let's just stay here a few minutes more, we got enough time to introduce you to everyone down there but for now.. let me have you for myself." Nodding softly, your head rests on his chest, as your eyes close and you simply enjoy the presence of your dearly beloved husband.

"What do you mean 'married to smiles'?!" Angel, as he was introduced to you, shouted from his place on the couch now, staring at you flabbergasted. "We've been married for quite a few years before his death." Smiling you answered his question. Alastor didn't like all the attention you were getting, but sooner than later he would have you all to himself again when you two go back to his cozy hotel room or the radio tower. "So you two fu-" Angel wasn't even able to finish his question before he shut himself up as he noticed the look on Alastors face. This time he would've been dead for sure if he finished that question.

Overall everyone invited you happily into their little hotel family, it was amazing. Charlie immediately took a liking to you and if you're being honest she quickly was viewed by you like a daughter.

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.

He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.

-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-

-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.

-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-

-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-

Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?

-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-

-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-

-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.

He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.

The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.

"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."

You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.

"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."

He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."

"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.

"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.

"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.

The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.

"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.

"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.

You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

[urmum-lovesme]

toxic!dad!rafe acting guilty and sweet around reader while she takes care of his kids because he acted her soo bad yesterday:( maybe hit her, maybe telling her reallyy bad things and she got hurt

This is so good wtf I love this idea it's lowkey fucked me up tho 😔

The morning was quiet, save for the soft tune of a lullaby Y/N absentmindedly hummed under her breath. She sat on the floor of the living room, legs folded beneath her, while her daughter sat in front of her, small and fidgety as Y/N carefully braided her soft curls. The little girl giggled every time her mothers fingers tickled the back of her neck, her chubby hands clutching her stuffed bunny tightly.

“Almost done, baby”

She murmured, gently smoothing her daughter’s hair before looping the final section of the braid. Her reflection in the door leading out to the garden, it caught her off guard. The faintest streak of red where Rafe’s signet ring had nicked her skin. The light swelling of her cheek, just enough to make her wince when she thought too hard about what had happened. Her breath hitched, and she squeezed her eyes shut, pushing the memory away but the calm didnt last for long.

She felt him before she saw him.

Rafe’s presence lingered in the doorway, heavy and suffocating. She knew he was watching- had probably been watching for a while now. Still, she didn’t acknowledge him, she just kept braiding. Rafe cleared his throat.

“I, uh- made you that tea y'like...”

Y/N didn’t respond. He shifted on his feet as he looked down to the little girl sitting. He muttered, nodding toward their daughter’s hair.

“Looks nice”

Y/N tied off the braid with a small elastic as she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her daughter’s head before nudging her forward.

“Go show your bunny baby”

The toddler wobbled off, giggling as she held the braid over her shoulder, showing it off to her stuffed animal like it was the best thing in the world. Y/N took a breath, exhaling slowly, then pushed herself off the floor. She barely got a step away before Rafe moved, cutting her off.

“Y/N…”

His voice was softer now. Careful. Like he knew he was treading dangerous ground. She felt his fingers barely graze her arm, his touch feather-light as they trailed down- over the bruise he left on her wrist, over the soreness beneath her skin. But then he stopped.

Right at her cheek.

The pad of his thumb brushed over the small cut, and she flinched causing him to pull away immediately. She turned to him then, finally looking at him. The guilt was evident in his face, but she said nothing.

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t.”

Her voice cracked, but she didn’t waver. His jaw clenched slightly, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. Not in anger- just restraint.

“I just... fuck Y/N, I don’t wanna fight—”

“You didn’t seem to mind last night.”

A hollow laugh escaped her lips, quiet and humorless. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, letting out a sigh as his head nodded a little.

“I know.”

She shook her head, turning away from him, her eyes landing on their daughter who now sat near her play pen, enamoured with some pink blocks wheezie had bought her.

“What were you even so angry about, Rafe? What was so fucking bad that you had to hit me?”

He paused at her words, yet her voice wasn’t yelling. It wasn’t even angry anymore. That made it worse.

“I—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face.

“I don’t know.”

He did know.

It had started over something stupid. He had been out late- again. She had called him- again, multiple times, like she did every night. And when he finally came home, she had been pissed—rightfully so. Their argument had escalated soon after that;

"You can’t just disappear all night, Rafe."

Her voice was irritated but careful- not because she wasn’t angry, but because she knew better than to raise it in the house when everyone was asleep. Knew that if anyone overheard, it would just give him another reason to twist things around, to make her seem like the problem starter.

"I was handling business."

Rafe’s voice was humerously calm, but it wasn’t apologetic. It was clipped, defensive, like he was already prepared for a fight. Like he had expected this reaction from her. Y/N scoffed, folding her arms across her chest.

"Oh, right. ‘Business.’ That’s what we’re calling it now?"

That got his attention. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of something dark crossing his face as he took a slow step closer. He muttered out, voice sharp and dangerously low.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"You know exactly what it means, jesus Rafe. You're a dad now—you can't do this shit anymore."

She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. Her arms tightened around herself, her voice cracking just slightly before she forced it steady again.

"You can’t be out all night doing God knows what and then just waltz back in like nothing happened."

"I just told you, I was handling shit."

He exhaled harshly through his nose, running a hand over his face. She shook her head as she looked at him, her hands were shaking from the fact she was arguing with him in the first place but she couldn't stop herself anymore.

"Handling what?"

She shot back, her voice strained but still hushed. She was tired- exhausted even. She'd been looking after their baby girl all by herself, days and nights, and she'd had enough. She was miserable and that's not what she wanted to be

"Whatever bullshit mess you got yourself into again? Do you even think about her? Do you care you've left me by my—"

"Of course I care." His jaw tensed, his entire body wound tight like a spring.

"Don’t fucking act like I don’t care."

He snapped at her and she took a step back, shaking her head, the lump in her throat growing.

"Well you don’t act like it."

She let the words hang between them for a second, watching his expression shift, his lips parting slightly before pressing into a thin line. She was so sick of his shit, she just wanted to scream at him, but she didn't- she couldnt. Yet before she could stop herself the words fell from her mouth,

"You're just like him, you know that?"

His entire body went rigid as the sentense passed her lips, and he instantly tured around to face her.

"What?"

Her throat felt tight, but she didn’t back down. "You're just like your dad." she whispered.

"Someone who pretends to care about his family but in reality—"

The slap came fast.

A sharp, stinging pain shot through her cheek, her head whipping to the side as she gasped. His signet ring sliced against her skin, the warmth of blood rising in its place almost instantly.

Silence

She barely registered the sound of her breath hitching, or the way her vision blurred for a second before sharpening on the floor. Everything felt muted, heavy. Her cheek burned and her ears rang, the sound reverberating. Rafe was just standing there, breathing hard. His chest rose and fell quickly, his fingers twitching slightly at his sides at the burn in his palm. His eyes weren’t on hers. No, they were fixated on the mark he had just left, on the crimson dot blooming just below her cheekbone. And then, his voice—low but edged with something unsettling.

"Don't ever fucking say that to me."

Her eyes were now unreadable, dark with exhaustion and something heavier. He hadn’t seen her cry last night. Not in front of him. Not after she had staggered back from the slap, a thin line of red appearing beneath her cheekbone where his ring had nicked her skin. She had just gone quiet and that had fucked with him more than anything.

“I just wanna make it up to you.”

Rafe said now, voice barely above a whisper. Y/N blinked, eyes burning as she mumbled out in return.

“I don't know...”

She stood there, breathing him in- his presence, his guilt, his need to smooth things over like last night never happened. Her cheek still stung faintly, the cut from his ring a sharp reminder of how far he’d taken it. And yet, Rafe was standing there, looking at her like he was the one hurting. Like he was suffering under the weight of his own actions. Her lips parted, words barely forming before she was cut off-

“Dada!”

Their daughter’s voice broke through the thick tension, her small feet pattering against the hardwood as she toddled toward them. She latched onto Rafe’s trousers with both hands, tugging insistently.

“Up!”

She demanded, eyes big and expectant. Y/N’s stomach twisted the moment Rafe bent down without hesitation, scooping their little girl into his arms with ease. His large hand supporying her small frame, letting her rest against him.

“Forgive me, please”

He murmured again, but this time, his voice was softer, edged with something sweeter. Y/N swallowed, throat tightening.

She knew what he was doing.

He knew she wouldn’t start a fight with him while their daughter was in his arms. He knew she wouldn’t reject him, not with their little girl looking between them, not with her small hands resting against his chest, oblivious to the storm simmering beneath the surface of her parents relationship. Rafe studied her carefully, watching the way her expression shifted- conflicted, torn. His grip on their daughter tightened ever so slightly, a silent reminder of what was between them, what they shared.

“C’mon, baby,” he whispered.

“Let me fix this.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, her gaze flickering to their daughter. She was sucking her thumb now, head resting lazily on Rafe’s shoulder, so blissfully unaware. She clenched her jaw, blinking rapidly at the water pooling on her waterline, lips pressing together into a thin line. And then- their daughter, still nestled in Rafe’s arms- turned her head slightly, her little eyes locking onto Y/N’s. The small hand that had been contently resting against Rafe’s chest now reached out towards her, fingers wiggling with in a grabbing motion.

An unspoken demand for her to come closer.

Y/N’s chest tightened. The sight of their daughter’s small, innocent gesture, that soft yearning for her mother, cracked through her resolve. She had no words, just the flutter in her chest with caused her breath to hitch.

“Okay”

Y/N whispered, so quietly it could’ve been mistaken for a breath. Rafe’s eyes softened, a glint of triumph flashing briefly before he stepped forward, a slow, deliberate smile tugging at his lips. Before Y/N could fully process the shift, Rafe closed the space between them, pulling her closer and capturing her lips in a kiss.

It was slow.

Sweet.

The kind that carried an underlying ache, as though they both knew that they were only putting a temporary bandage over something far more complicated. But in that moment, Y/N didn’t pull away, she couldn't bring herself to. Instead she let him kiss her and let herself fall back into the illusion of peace.

this lowkey made me want to sob. . . ?

[sugurouge]

switch up! sylus x f!reader

explicit content, smut, mdni. ༚༅༚˳ . ♱ . ˳༚༅༚ praise, pet names (sweetie, kitten, princess, dear, sweetheart, my feisty girl), manhandling, size difference, minor degradation, female/male oral receiving, creampie, rough sex, (pussy) spanking, snowballing, multiple orgasms, reader wears a dress & makeup - 4.7k words

synopsis: luke and kieran convinced you to give sylus a special gift for valentine's day! you only had to promise them not to peek inside before your special night. little did you know the harm a small booklet could cause (alternatively: sylus receives sex coupons from his beloved for valentine's day and his ego is bruised)

a/n: this pales in comparison to the actual event

It was your first Valentine’s Day with Sylus, and you could barely contain the excitement bubbling inside you. The bond you have built—filled with layers of trust, passion, and understanding—already makes every day unforgettable, though today was extra special.

As the evening arrived, the anticipation of finally being with him after a long, busy day was almost too much to bear. Sylus had sent you flowers earlier, each bouquet more perfect than the last, and presents that showed how well he knows what you love.

But now, this night was just for the two of you. No distractions. No complications. Just love and passion, the way you knew Sylus would want it.

When he arrived to pick you up, he couldn’t help but smile at you in that way that made your heart skip a beat. You were wearing the dress he had picked out for you—a deep, rich red that made you feel like a goddess; his goddess. It hugged your body perfectly, showcasing your curves in all the right places while ensuring comforting room for dinner.

Upon approaching, you could see the way Sylus’ irises widened as they roamed over you, a subtle yet intense hunger simmering beneath their surface.

─── ❤︎

Dinner had been a tranquil affair, with Sylus insisting on making the evening as perfect as possible for you. He always wanted to take care of you, especially on days like this. When the meal was finished, you surprised him by handing him a small, neatly wrapped gift—something he had not expected. But the beautifully crafted bracelets inside filled his heart with more warmth than he would ever admit.

To openly belong to you, to match with you—it stroked Sylus' ego in ways you may never fully understand. “I will treasure it for the rest of my life,” he promised with a smooth, satisfied voice as he put the jewellery on for both of you, finishing yours with a kiss to your wrist.

It was then that Sylus saw the surprise waiting underneath the box.

You managed to keep your promise to the twins not to peek inside this present, even though they’d clearly told you it was for Sylus; from you to Sylus.

"Give it to boss-man," they’d said, the mischief evident in their voices making it clear that whatever was inside was meant to tease him. "You won't regret it, just trust us!"

Has trusting the twins truly ever paid off for you?

Sylus, ever the confident figure, sat back, looking at you expectantly with one eyebrow raised. His sharp gaze lingers on you before he takes the suspisiciously thin package from the table.

"What’s this, sweetie?" he asks, his voice low, smooth—just his usual nonchalant tone. "Another present? Are you the one spoiling me tonight?"

His fingers expertly unwrap the paper, revealing a small booklet. His eyes narrow as he flips through it, recognizing the contents: sex coupons. Upon that realisation, his lips curl into an wickedly amused smile, but there is a slight edge to it—a flicker of something that almost seems offended, but not enough to break his calm composure.

Why on earth would he need something like this?

Are you trying to tell him something?

Did he not satisfy you with his love and devotion?

But he always made sure to give you everything and more … 

Sylus breaks the silence after a minute of racing thoughts. "You think this is funny, kitten?" he murmurs, his eyes glinting with desire as they zero in on you.

Sylus leans back, giving you that all-too-familiar teasing smirk. “Are you trying to tell me I’m not performing to your liking?”

But you can see the challenge sparking in his eyes, the silent promise that he would take whatever ball you threw at his court and turn it into something far more unforgettable. 

“I—” you start, though how are you to even explain this mess? It is also your first time seeing the coupons as well.

You are definitely going to make the twins pay for this.

"Well, if it’s a challenge you want..." Sylus trails off, his gaze locking onto yours with that intensity that makes you feel both flustered and thrilled all at once.

He opens the booklet wider, scanning the contents as if weighing each one. The sly smirk on his face grows wider with every flip. 

Maybe now is the chance to make amends before it's too late. “Sylus, I had no—” but he is quick to interrupt you, his mind already too far in this little game without a care for who started it. 

“You think I need these to prove myself to you?” He leans in over the table of the restaurant, reminding you awfully well of the fact you are sharing this conversation in public. But Sylus doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t seem faced to admit: “I live to please you, sweetheart,” while his fingers brush over your wrist to trace over your matching bracelet. 

─── ❤︎

By the time you return to Sylus’ mansion, the only thing weighing heavy on your mind are impact the coupons had on Sylus. Your intention was to leave an impression with the beautiful bracelets, to have a sweet moment together with your devoted partner.

No wonder you find yourself standing across from Sylus, rooted in the doorway and watching with curious eyes as he pours himself a drink. 

The leader of Onychinus makes a return once Sylus sits down at the table in the same imposing room you shared an encounter in before he took you on your first bike ride. The same room you heard witnessed him disintegrate a man for his betrayal.

With those memories in mind, the atmosphere shifts and you’re suddenly fully aware of those predatory crimson eyes raking over your figure above the rim of his whiskey glass. 

Sylus watches you, clearly amused by your flustered state. His hand pats his lap, the gesture commanding you to join him. “Don’t be shy now,” he warns with honey dripping from his lips. 

The moment you settle on his lap, Sylus wraps his arms around you, pressing your body against himself before reaching your lips in a deep, demanding kiss. His touch is insatiable, pulling you closer and closer, leaving no space for doubts or hesitation. 

The feeling of his muscles shifting beneath your touch, the growing erection pressing against you, and the heat of his body drive you to near that insatiable greed only he can bring out of you. 

It all makes your head spin. 

“You want to play, huh?” He chuckles against your lips, breathes a groan into your mouth as your nails graze his skin. “I’ll show you exactly what I can do, sweetie,” with that familiar predatory tone.

Sylus doesn’t hesitate. His lips crash with yours all over again, taking control as he pushes his tongue past your parted lips, kissing you deep and demanding undivided attention. Your hands fist into his shirt, desperate to pull him closer, or push him away, you’re not sure once air seems to slip from your lungs.

Sylus’ fingers are already working their way up your thigh, his lips come to trace the curve of your neck to revel in the unfiltered reaction in the form of your quiet gasp once his touch slips beneath the hem of your dress, drawing so close to where you want him most. 

Truly, not a second is wasted with a man like him.

Sylus’ hold on your thighs tightens, guiding you even closer, against the hard outline of his growing desire. "Is it better now, sweetie?" Sylus murmurs, his eyes darkened with desire as he watches your every reaction.

His thumb brushes against your kiss-swollen lips, and he can’t hide the proud smirk upon the sight of your already messy state. He also can’t refuse to lick off the spit he gathered from your lips, just to see you falter further.

“No,” you protest with a whisper as you fight to catch your breath. But the way you say it, so sweetly, almost as if you’re daring him to do more, has him looking at you with a quiet intensity.

"What? You want me to take you here on the table? In the room reserved for my guests? Aw... how naughty," he coos at you, exposing the whites of his teeth with an all-too-satisfied smirk as he tilts your chin with one finger.

“Can’t we just—” You pause, unable to think straight as the ache between your legs seems to only grow the longer he resists making a move. You shift in his lap, signalling in all the right ways how badly you want to skip the foreplay for tonight. 

But Sylus doesn’t budge. 

Why won't he budge? 

He always does exactly what you ask of him. 

The thought makes you act. Makes you chase, hunt. Lips searing his skin as you begin to litter his neck with lipstick kisses and demanding nips while you grind against his surely uncomfortable erection.

Sylus groans low in his throat, even if he tries to, he can’t resist you for long. His hands find your hips, halting your provocative movements just a moment before is patience runs thin. “Sweetie, you can't be serious...” 

But maybe that’s exactly what you need. A night without his gentle loving to remember how nice it is to be spoiled rotten by him and the comforts you're usually surrounded. Maybe he should allow some artistic freedom tonight.

Instead of finding words, you let your actions speak and tug at his dress shirt, pull off his neck tie, unbutton his expensive clothes swiftly all to finally get to his bare skin.

Greedy little thing.

Unable to talk but still so eager to get to the good part.

With a sudden shift in position, your back meets the table quicker than your mind could process, an overwhelmed gasp from the impact all you’re able to present once Sylus pushes the straps of your dress down and past your breasts.

He attaches his lips to your exposed tits, grumbling a rough “Entertaining at is, it’s still not enough,” in regard your antics. He devours you; kissing, nipping and sucking along your breasts before popping one nipple between his teeth. 

Who is in control now?

You arch your back in reaction, your lips part to let moans float through the air which only seem to grow louderr when you feel Sylus shamelessly grinding against you.

Firm hands reach around your thighs to pull your pussy further against himself before sneaky fingers find their way between your pressed hips, replacing his hard-on quickly in order to push your panties aside. 

“Let me thank you for your inspiring present, kitten,” Sylus murmurs before biting into your nipple hard. 

You try to find purchase on his body, nails digging into whatever fabric or skin they can find as your pretty pleas for him leave you breathless.

Your panties are snatched off your body in an near painful manner, yet it barely compares to Sylus’s mouth clashing with your pussy. Strong fingers dig into your inner thighs to spread you open for his assault. His sweet-talking tongue finally meets with your pulsing lips, mixing your slick with his saliva.

“I-I’m sorry!” you exclaim in a higher-pitched tone when the tip of Sylus’s tongue circles your clit, applying varying amounts of pressure on the little bundle to have you squirm beneath his lips. Though his broad shoulders keep you on display no matter how much you struggle.

The satisfied smirk on his lips presses against your cunt, and the vibrations of his deep hum leave you no other option but to tug on his hair, your legs struggling to remain open with every kiss and lick from your pissed-off lover.

When you finally open your eyes, you notice his intense stare that seems to have never left your face, basking in the glory he spoils you with as his tongue enters your clenching hole to feel your hips roll against his face.

Sylus’ hot breath against your skin only heightens your senses while his nose applies further pressure on your clit. His mouth is practically glued to your most sensitive parts, lapping eagerly at your folds and suckling your clit relentlessly until he feels your legs tremble in his hold.

But he doesn’t stop. Opting instead to fully drag the flat of his tongue over your pussy until his mouth latches onto your clit. The final nail to your coffin is the sudden stretch when two fingers seem to effortlessly slide themselves inside your convulsing walls.

Your makeup is long ruined, tainted by your tears and clamping hands over your mouth to stifle your frantic moans when Sylus pushes you over the edge.

The sensation has your hips lift off the table, inviting Sylus to grope your ass and push you mercilessly against him, continuing to stimulate your clit beyond your orgasm.

“Stop, stop, stop, please, it’s too much, too good…” you whine, yet your hips still move against his tongue, betraying your protests.

The mirth in his eyes is all he offers you to understand that he won’t stop tonight, that he is not done with you.

Sylus only pauses once he notices you calming down, placing a precise smack against your swollen lips like a writer sets the final words to his proudest work.

You jerk beneath him, almost thrashing in distaste upon your awfully aroused state and the delicious pain he puts on you.

It’s unfair of him to do this to you, to treat you like his toy, to do with you whatever he wishes. It’s unfair of him to unbutton his shirt in what feels like slow motion, exposing his sculpted body like it’s the best present he could ever give to you.

Your eyes roll to the back of their sockets when you hear his belt unbuckle, goosebumps decorating your delicate skin in anticipation of what’s to come.

That is until Sylus handles your body as if you’re nothing more than a feather in his grasp. His hold surely leaves traces as he pulls you impossibly closer. The head of his cock stretches your entrance with ease before he rams himself inside your already pulsating walls, spreading you open on his shaft and drowning in the way you swallow him without much resistance.

His actions steal desperately aroused cries from your trembling lips thanks to the burn he inflicts inside you. You arch up and try to get away from him, but he keeps you exactly where he wants you.

“My f-fuck, Sylus~” you wail, legs clamping around his small waist to suck him even deeper despite the pain. He is always a little too much to take for you, but the pride brimming in his eyes whenever you cream on his cock keeps you coming back until you’re formed just right to take him.

The feeling of your hot, wet cunt embracing his cock so willingly has beautiful groans clashing with your skin as Sylus’s lips attach to your neck. “So tight, so perfect for me...” he pants before his teeth graze your skin, teasing your already sensitive body further before he nuzzles his nose into the curve of your neck.

His soft affections stand in contradiction to his cock abusing your cunt like his personal toy. The way his hips almost painfully snap against your own undermining your strength difference only further.

Your arms find purchase around his shoulders, gently carding through his messy locks as his name falls from your lips repetitively.

A harsh slap to your ass rips a deep moan from you, which immediately shoots back at Sylus, as his cock twitches inside your clenched walls upon your desperate yelps and whimpers.

As your legs begin to tremble in his hold with raised moans falling from your mouth, a realisation dawns upon Sylus.

A chuckle follows, one that proves rather strained since he clearly is affected by the perfect embrace of your walls. “Are you into pain, sweetie?” a mere murmur against your racing pulse while he continously snaps his hips into you.

“And now you're cumming again already?” Sylus victoriously grins against your neck at the obvious answer to his question, your desperate clamping around his cock evidence enough for your nearing high.

Yet you nod frantically, burying your face in his silver strands while your tits bounce against his chest. “Please let me,” you whine.

“Please let you?” he echoes, with his thrusts slowing down to control your climax, bringing distance between your bodies so your fucked-out form is on full display for his greedy eyes.

Sylus takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers to he reveal your face to him. Your trembling lower lip and heaving chest are a gorgeous view, yet nothing compared to your teary eyes while your nails dig into the back of his hand.

“Let me cum, please, Sylus!” you beg in defeat.

Fuck, you've never begged before.

You wish you had the strength to smack him for his confident grin, but he leaves you whimpering instead as he pulls out from your drooling cunt, only letting the tip of his cock rest within you while he basks in your hatred.

“My feisty girl wants to cum so bad…” Sylus muses, mockingly brushing his fingers over your clit and pussy to smear your mixed arousal further. “Go on then, make yourself cum with whatever I offer you. Give it your best shot..” He whispers, the tip of his nose brushing against yours while he guides your hand down to your clit.

And you try, try so desperately to rub on your clit as you clamp around the head of his cock, cunt clearly trying to suck him back in as your hips rock in rhythm with the movement of your hands.

“Sylus,” is yet another attempt to get him to move again.

So he does. 

He slaps your overly motivated fingers away from your clit to replace them with his own in the same second he pushes hmself back inside you. Hitting your sweetest spots while he painfully pinches the sensitive little nub to send sparks running through your system.

Your fingers find purchase around his wrist, digging into his skin in desperation, while you want nothing more than to finally come undone.

“You feel so good,” he sighs in exhaustion.

Sylus pushes you over the edge with precise thrusts for you to cream around his cock. You're tugging nearly painfully at his hair as your moans mix with sobs and praise to his name.

"Mh... and you sound so hot," Sylus mumbles, his scorching gaze unwavering as he witnesses your orgasm wash over your glorious body. It is only then that he allows himself to cum deep inside you, his hand squeezing your boob as his teeth bite down on your nipple to control the overwhelming pleasure of his high, his moans rumbling against your body.

And you’re so eager to milk him dry, cunt pulsing around his sensitive cock for every drop he could share. Each shallow thrust spreads his load until you hiss and whine, complaining about your fucked-out state with gentle objections.

"I'm far from done with you, sweetie," Sylus promises.

Though you shake your drowsy head, and Sylus only nods in return while ensuring your eyes lock onto his face; as if that could change your mind.

"You were the one who gave me the coupons," Sylus reminds you softly, the memory sending another rush of anger through his blood. "Now let me make good use of the inspiration."

"But those were not—” you try to interrupt, but it seems like he has little interest in your rebuke. Instead, he pulls out of you, eagerly flipping you around to press your chest against the dinner table, displaying your ass to his gaze.

His cum leaking out of your pussy is the only thing he can actually notice, tempting his fingers to automatically push it all back inside your leaking hole as you wail in despair.

"I-I can't, please!" you curse as your body tries to crawl out of his reach once he begins to scissor his thick fingers inside you. Hot kisses along your spine leave a trail up to your ear, his strong body locking your smaller frame in place on the table, open for his actions. 

"Don’t tell me playtime is over already, princess," Sylus teases, "I’m sworn to please you, am I not?"

You know it's best to surrender once you make eye contact with him over your shoulder: The inquisitive glow of his right eye is a telltale sign for you to drop the act of defiance. 

He knows how much you enjoy this.

So, the hard expression melts as soon as Sylus witnesses your nod, and a soft smile returns to his face. "That's right. Now take it like a big girl, will you?" The words can barely count as a question since he immediately sheathes his eager cock inside your pulsing cunt all over again—stuffing his cum back inside you with each thrust.

Sylus pulls out once more, teasing your aching hole with the tip of his cock until your hips wiggle and desperate whimpers escape your lips.

So much for not wanting to go on.

"Beg for it," he commands, taking the opportunity to slide his tip up and down your puffy lips, running circles around your clit—intentionally pulling the words from your mouth. Y

es, he definitely got a rise out of your trembling begging voice earlier.

"Please," you bite out, though the teasing stimulations make it hard to keep your dignity. "Make me feel good," you use the words as a loophole instead of begging Sylus for his cock.

But your feistiness only amuses Sylus. It earns you another harsh smack of his hand on your ass, making you topple further against the table. Strong hands squeeze the soft flesh of your thighs, kneading it while your legs are being spread wider, nearly lifting your feet off the ground entirely by doing so.

"I think you can be sweeter than that,” his raspy nearly threatens before greedy lips latch onto your back. His hot tongue licks along your spine, while crimson eyes devour the intense shivers spreading across your skin. Sylus’ body drapes over yours as his cock prods against your fluttering entrance once more. 

"Sylus~,” you force his name out in a whiny tone, trying to lure him down the path of honey and sweetness.

Though your act ends the minute Sylus pushes himself further into you, the speed agonizingly slow yet so perfect to feel him spread your walls open for his thick cock once more.

You arch your back further, pressing your tits against the table and your ass against his hips, nails clawing on the hardwood.

"Aren’t you adorable when you’re being so obedient for me?” He praises in a whisper before chuckling near your ear. 

Sylus’ cock twitches inside you, hitting the delicate deeper regions once you grind against his movements. Creating an addictive addition of your clenching cunt as if you never want to let him go again.

His thrusts are calculated, with the way he pulls his heavy cock out ever so slowly, pausing just a split second outside your oh-so-inviting hole before snapping his hips back. 

The obscene smack of his thighs against your ass echoes through the room and mingles with your frantic moans as well as Sylus’ groans. "Creaming again, aren’t you?" he muses when your legs begin to quiver, barely managing to hold yourself up as your third orgasm threatens to roll over your body.

Your fucked-out expression meets his gaze over your shoulder, silently begging  Sylus to support your body. "Oh, my dear," he mumbles like a devil on your shoulder, the grip on your body adjusting. For one hand to push against your stomach, and the other to wrap around your neck, successfully holding you in a bicep lock while aiding your exhausted form to stay up as he fucks you through your climax.

"Just let go for me," Sylus encourages, in between his aggressive lips sucking marks on your neck.

You teeth find purchase on his forearm, digging into his skin to hear Sylus hiss in sheer pleasure. Nothing is more satisfying for him than to be marked by you.

Then, your orgasm rushes through your body, overwhelming all your senses with the intense overstimulation at this point. Your moans turn whiny as Sylus continues to fuck you through it, before he finally pulls out.

"Come here," he pants, exhaustion hitting your usually calm lover as well. Nevertheless, he swirls your nearly passed-out body around and pushes you down on your knees, with such ease as if you were made of jelly. He hesitates at your sight—he’s never seen you more submissive.

Though your shaky hands clamp around his thick thighs, digging into the muscles for purchase as your cheek rests on his right leg, tired eyes meeting his gaze when he runs a hand along your neck.

"Are you going to let me cum in your mouth, hm? I think the twins are traumatized from your moaning," he teases in time with his fingers grabbing your neck to pull your face close to his cock.

You can merely follow his guiding hands while nodding to whatever Sylus says until you feel the wet tip of his shaft prodding against your lips. Near automatically, your tongue darts out to kitten-lick around the head before taking him in deeper and deeper.

Your eyes remain glued to the view above: His heaving chest and flexing muscles, the nibbling of his bottom lip, and the slightly squinted eyes with a sweet scowl on his forehead. 

He is struggling. 

Large hands come to cradle the back of your head, a comforting gesture that turns desperate once Sylus guides you further down his cock until your nose is pressed against his groin. "Clean me up, sweetie. Taste yourself, go on," Sylus rambles near mindlessly while drowning in these sensations.

It’s a rare sight, it’s a pretty sight, and you want more of it.

So you bob your head, swirl your tongue and  hollow your cheeks until it is near impossible to deny the throbbing of his length while low groans turn to raspy moans. 

Though Sylus manages to command a final warning for you. "Don’t you dare swallow without my permission."

Your hand pumps along his shaft while your mouth collects his load, desperately trying to keep it all on your tongue. It’s a futile attempt as the white fluids already dribble down your chin, though nothing Sylus’ thumb can’t fix with a swipe before replacing his softening cock with his thumb. 

A moment later you’re already hoisted up to sit in his lap again, with his hand now gripping around your cheeks, pulling you down towards his face and forcing a pout on your lips. Sylus’ mouth captures yours in a searing, passionate kiss, moving with a hunger and desperation that steals the breath from your lungs, his tongue delving deep to taste you, him—everything at once. 

The grip on your figure adjusts to keep you in place while the mixture of his semen and your spit flow from your mouth onto Sylus’ tongue. The moan that follows is a deep, satisfied rumble inside his chest before finally pulling back to lock eyes with you.

Shamelessly, he swishes the concoction in his mouth while his nails tease up along your back. Though the seemingly tender gesture turns demanding once his hands lock around the back of your neck as he sits up to close the remaining distance between your bodies. 

Then, Sylus kisses you again, bending over your smaller frame when he returns the filthy mixture into your mouth, pushing his tongue against yours and creating the nastiest yet most exhilarating kiss you have ever shared.

The graze of his teeth over your sore lips brings the moment to an end. For him to whisper a "Swallow," with heavy eyes greedily watching you follow his request. 

The guiding drag of his thumbs down your throat encourages you to swallow until nothing but your pink tongue remains. Then Sylus pulls you close against his chest, mumbling a sweet “You’re full of surprises, kitten,” with his usual tender tone while you hide your face in the crook his neck.

As if he has any right to talk about surprises after tonight’s actions.

banner by @/cafekitsune

[bunny-1111]

Whoopsie - Theo Nott x clumsy!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Fluff + slight angst

Description: You can't help your clumsiness, but when you land with a bruise on your face, you're reminded that your boyfriend Theo really hates to see you hurt.

...

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the dimly lit corridors of the Slytherin dungeons, each step clumsy and uneven. You weren’t exactly the most graceful of creatures, but today had reached new heights of disaster. It was one of those days when the universe seemed to be playing tricks on you—making every doorframe, stair step, and corridor seem like an obstacle course designed specifically for you to fail.

And fail, you did.

It had started innocently enough. You had forgotten your Charms textbook in the dormitory, and in your haste to retrieve it before your next class. The last thing you needed was detention from McGonagall for being late or forgetting your book, and you were sprinting down the corridor. Too fast, too distracted, and—

BAM.

Your face met the hard, unyielding brass of the doorknob. Pain radiated through your skull, and you stumbled back, clutching your nose. "Ow, ow, ow," you hissed under your breath, blinking back the sudden tears that sprang to your eyes.

By the time you had made it to the mirror in the girls’ bathroom, a glorious bruise was already blossoming across your cheekbone and the area around your eye, swelling quickly and turning an alarming shade of purple. You groaned. Great. How were you going to explain this to anyone? Even worse, how the hell are you going to explain this to Theo?

You decided to skip class altogether and carefully make your way to Madam Pomfrey.

You managed to slip into the common room unnoticed at first, pulling your hood up in a futile attempt to hide the evidence of your clumsiness. But, of course, it didn’t take long for someone to notice. It was Theo, he always noticed everything about you, no matter how much you tried to downplay it.

“Baby, why weren’t you in class, Enzo ended up taking the seat I saved for you and Merlin he chewed my ear off about Quidditch being fixed last Saturday,” he rambled on.

Don’t reply, don’t look up, you thought to yourself. It was impossible; this was happening right now.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked, voice low and alarmed as he crossed the room in quick strides, his hand gently lifting your chin. You felt the warmth of his fingertips against your skin, but his expression was anything but warm. His brow furrowed in concern, soft brown eyes locking on the bruise that marred your face.

"I’m fine!" you blurted, though the words came out far too high-pitched to be convincing. You tried to pull away, but Theo wasn’t having it. His grip on your chin tightened ever so slightly, his thumb brushing against the edge of the bruise with a gentleness that made your chest tighten.

“Who hurt you?” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, but the intensity in his tone made your stomach flip. His eyes searched yours, dark and stormy. Theo wasn’t the type to raise his voice in anger. No, his was the kind of quiet fury that built up slowly, seeping into the air like a cold, creeping fog.

"I did," you confessed, trying to laugh it off, but the tension in the room was suffocating. You could feel his anger brewing, and you knew what was coming next.

“I’m fucking serious, don’t lie to me!” Theo snapped, taking a step back as if putting some distance between the two of you would help him calm down. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he began pacing, his jaw tight. “There’s no way you did that to yourself.”

“I did!” you repeated, trying to sound more convincing this time. Rubbing your hand quickly against your bruise. Not a good idea, as you instinctively winced at the touch. “I ran into a door. A doorknob, to be exact. It’s not that serious, Theo,” you try convincing.

Theo froze mid-step, staring at you like you had just said something utterly ridiculous. Which, to be fair, you probably had.

“A doorknob?” he repeated slowly, his eyes narrowing as if he was waiting for you to take it back, like it was some kind of joke. But when you just nodded, Theo let out a long, frustrated breath, running a hand through his hair. He shook his head as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re telling me… you smashed your face into a doorknob?”

“Yes,” you mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment. God, you wished the ground would swallow you whole.

“It's embarrassing already, alright? Leave me alone,” you huff.

Theo stared at you for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe you. Eventually, he sighed and dragged a hand down his face, turning away abruptly. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath before storming off, leaving you standing there with a gnawing pit in your stomach.

Theo didn’t go far. He was in the common room, pacing like a caged animal, still visibly agitated. His eyes flickered over the other Slytherins lounging nearby, most of whom had noticed his outburst but said nothing. That didn’t last long.

“Oi, what’s got you in a twist, Nott?” Blaise called from the couch, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. Beside him, Draco looked equally intrigued, lounging back with his arms crossed.

Theo glared at them but didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to look at you again, his jaw still set in that hard, unyielding way. The others followed his gaze, and it wasn’t long before the topic of conversation turned toward your rapidly bruising face.

“Wha- what the hell happened to her eye?” Blaise was the first to ask, looking genuinely confused as he gestured toward you.

“She said she ran into a door,” Theo growled, clearly still not convinced.

Draco, who had been staring at you with a mixture of concern and amusement, furrowed his brows. “Wait, what happened to who’s ey-?”

Before he could finish his question, Mattheo, who had just entered the common room, cut in with a dramatic, “Holy shit! What happened to your eye?” His tone was a mix of shock and humour, his eyes wide as he took in the sight of your injury.

You could feel everyone’s eyes on you now. Heat rushed to your face as you tried to explain yourself once again. “I fell,” you say quickly, raising your hands in a placating gesture, as if that would make everyone drop it and move on.

But of course, they didn’t.

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You fell? Into what, a troll?”

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I ran into a doorknob, okay? I wasn’t paying attention, and it just… happened.”

Blaise let out a low whistle, his smirk widening. “You really need to work on your coordination, love.”

You rolled your eyes, though the action hurt more than you expected, causing you to wince. Theo, noticing the movement, shot Blaise a glare that could have frozen over the entire Black Lake. “It’s not funny, Zabini.”

“Hey, I’m just saying…” Blaise shrugged, holding up his hands in mock defence. “You know, we could get you a helmet or something, just to be safe.”

"We should wrap you in bubble wrap", Pansy joins in laughing

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m fine, really.”

But the conversation was far from over. Despite your protests, the teasing continued—though most of it was good-natured. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Theo’s eyes on you, watching every movement, every wince. He hadn’t said much since his initial outburst, but you could feel his worry like a tangible weight in the air.

Eventually, the others got bored of the topic, and the common room returned to its usual low buzz of chatter. You took a deep breath, thankful for the reprieve, but when you glanced toward Theo, you saw that he was still tense, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as he watched you.

“I’m going for a smoke,” he stated as he stormed out of the common room. Well, we’ve done it, stressed him to the point of smoking. You thought he’ll be back soon, sinking deeper into the couch.

Later that night, when everyone had dispersed to their dorms, Theo found you sitting by the fire, absentmindedly poking at the flames with a poker. He sat down beside you without a word, the warmth of his presence instantly comforting. For a while, neither of you spoke, the crackling of the fire filling the silence between you.

Finally, Theo broke the quiet, his voice low and careful. “You really need to be more careful.”

You looked at him, your heart giving a small, traitorous flutter at the concern etched into his features. “I know.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair again. “I hate seeing you hurt.”

There was something in his voice that made your chest tighten. You smiled softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “It’s not that serious, Theo. It was just a stupid accident.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the fire. Then, after what felt like forever, he turned to look at you, his expression softening. “Promise me you’ll be more careful next time.”

You chuckled, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I promise.”

Theo wrapped an arm around you, pulling you

closer. “Good. Because I don’t think I could handle seeing you like that again, seriously.”

You gently kiss him, as you make your way towards his dorm, he wraps an arm around your shoulder, everything seeming good again.

That is until you tumble over your own feet, almost meeting the floor, but this time, Theo was there, tightening his grip on you, catching you before disaster could strike for the second time today.

You laugh as he stares at you, eyes widening. He cannot believe you actually fall over your own feet. He softens with a deep sigh.

“What am I going to do with you, my clumsy girl?” he laughs himself, kissing your head.

Author note: um like 4 theo fics posted in the last 24 hours.... getting that grind LMFAO

[omgeto]

☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU

summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.

wc: 3k

cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI

an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.

as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.

and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.

he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.

"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.

"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."

geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."

your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"

he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."

with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.

"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.

his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.

you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.

geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."

“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”

"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."

you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.

with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."

he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."

you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.

with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.

"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop. 

geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours. 

his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.

"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.

“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.

“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”

“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.

he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised.  ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.

as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer. 

“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.

“what type of pain?” you retort.

“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.

“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”

geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.

a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."

with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.

he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.

as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.

"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.

you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."

geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."

“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”

“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”

you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art. 

“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”

“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”

“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.

“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”

“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.

“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.

“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”

“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know. 

he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.

geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you. 

he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.

“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”

“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”

“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.

“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”

before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force. 

“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”

you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere. 

“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.

“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.

with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.

geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”

“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”

“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.” 

with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.

your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.

“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”

“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.

“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.

AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS

[luveline]

hey jade!!! do u think we can get a little something with bombshell and spencer 🙏🙏 missing them

—you and spencer get serious. 1.3k

“So,” you say, holding two hands behind your back, shoulders tight in a vague attempt at flirting, “come here often?” 

“To Austin?” Spencer nods. “This is the tenth time we’ve been in the last five years.”

“Big city. Thirteenth most populous city in the entire country, right? That’s a lot of crime.”

Spencer smiles approvingly. “Right.” 

“At least this one was easy.” 

You’re standing in the sunshine outside of a bar near the hangar, waiting for the jet to finish loading, the rest of the team inside drinking a round of well-earned drinks. Spencer was in good spirits but didn’t seem to love the ruckus, so you’d made some excuse about feeling light-headed and promised you’d be alright as long as Spencer came outside with you. 

You don’t not feel dizzy. You’ve been under the weather all week. Spencer’s concern has had moments of obviousness. He’s roped it in for now, only evidence of his worry the lack of space between you. 

You’re enjoying the game you’re playing for now. You lovingly ignore him. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” 

“Uh, trying to get home, honestly.” 

“Yeah?” 

“See, I know this girl,” he says, his voice a soft pattern of itself, “and she’s– she’s great. She really is. She’s smart, and she’s beautiful, and she’s stubborn as a mule when she wants to be. She won’t let me take care of her out here. I’m hoping when we get back, she’ll let me take her home. So I can look after her.” He has no intention of playing the ignoring game with you. 

“Stubborn as a mule,” you murmur, leaning back against the bar’s brick exterior, lulled into security by his voice, and the sweet breeze that passes over you, the right side of cold as the sun begins to set behind the buildings across the street and beyond. 

“You like that one?” 

“No. Not my favourite comparison.” 

Spencer holds his hand out across the way, palm up but low, his fingers still. “Stubborn,” he says as you slip your hand into his, “but in a good way.” 

“…I don’t need you to take care of me,” you say softly. 

“But I want to.” 

You don’t know why you’ve been struggling with Spencer lately. It certainly isn’t something he’s done wrong, and it’s not the first time he’s wanted to look after you. But things between you are looking serious. Just a few weeks ago you took the ‘next step’, long overdue, and you told him you loved him. You do. 

“If I did something–”

You wince and he stops. You knew he’d bring it up eventually, but it doesn’t make it hurt less. What a mess you’re making. “You didn’t do anything,” you say. 

“Are you sure?” 

“No, Spencer, it’s not you, really, it’s not, it’s me–”

The face he makes is of unbridled horror. You’re worried he’ll snatch his hand back. He squeezes tighter. “What are you saying?” he asks, his frown a pout that turns your heart. 

“I’m not breaking up with you. I’m sorry, that was a fright wasn’t it?” you ask, squeezing him too, pulling at him as you slip against his side. Your faces are close enough to kiss. “Not breaking up. I can’t describe how much I don’t want that.” 

“But?” he asks. 

“But… there’s been some chafing, lately, on my end.” 

“‘Cos of me?” 

“Aw, Spencer,” you murmur, turning your front into his side as you hold your free hand over his heart, “no, baby. No… No, it’s not because of you, or– it’s not your fault. I was alone for a while before you, and I guess being sick just reminded me that things are different.” 

“And you don’t like it?” 

“Spencer, please,” you plead gently, rubbing your thumb against his chest. “You haven’t done anything wrong. I love you–”

“I love you.” 

“–and I’m not asking for anything here, not space, not for you to change, I just want to tell you how I’ve been feeling so you can stop confusing it for something you might’ve done wrong.” 

Some days being with Spencer feels like you’re the same soul in two different bodies. It’s moments like this that remind you of how human he is, the depth of his feelings, and how much he cares about you —how much you can affect his life. He’s frowning like he’s not far from tears and you regret ever bringing it up in the first place, but you have to finish now. 

“It’s scary, for me, sometimes, to be with you,” you say eventually. 

“For me, too.” 

“I worry I’ll get used to you and one day I won’t have you.” 

“I promise you will,” he says. 

“But you don’t know that.” 

“For however long you’ll let me have you, you can have me,” he says simply. 

You tease a line into his chest with your two fingertips. “I love how you look after me. There’s nothing like it. I fall asleep sick and I wake up knowing you’re there to make me a cup of tea, and to help me shower when my head’s hurting, you don’t let me down. You know that?” 

“So why can’t I look after you tonight?” he asks, eyes dark as pine tar. 

“You can. You think I’m not going home with you?” 

“I wasn’t sure.” 

“Please let me come home with you.” 

Spencer lets his forehead drop gently against yours. The breeze runs a loop around your legs and cools your too-warm shoulders, pulling your blouse from clammy skin. For a while, you wait for him to speak, but when he doesn’t you figure you’ve overwhelmed him with your confession, maybe you’ve upset him. 

He rubs the tips of your noses together slightly. 

“Are you still dizzy?” 

“No.” Your voice is a croak. “I’m sorry.”

“For what, being scared of the future? It’s okay.” 

“I think it sounded like it was your fault.” 

“I won’t take it that way if you don’t mean it like that,” he promises. “I just want to look after you, angel. I want to be with you. I’m scared all the time that one day I won’t have you, but then you smile at me or you–” He laughs. “You tug on my hair trying to make me kiss you and I don’t feel that way for a while. I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

“The only thing that worries me is life.” 

“Not much you can do about that,” he says.

“I know. I didn’t mean for it to get to you, too.”

He makes a nice humming sound, says, “I want you to feel better, and come home with me, and I don’t really care if I have to beg. You know I will.” 

“You should know you don’t have to beg for anything. Not from me.” 

Spencer’s hand comes up to your neck. He holds it carefully, pressing the soft of his cheek against your temple, the other hand working its way behind your back. “And you’re worried I might leave you?” he asks, laughing bashfully as he presses two kisses to whatever bit of skin he can fin, the side of your nose and the soft well under your eye. “When you’re saying stuff like that to me? In public?” 

“It’s hardly the worst thing I’ve said to you in public.” 

Spencer pulls away to meet your eyes. He's smiling. Worry and love line his gaze. “Do you wanna go find something to eat before we leave?”

“Yeah,” you nod, trying hard not to smile ear to ear. “Let’s go eat.” 

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Hated. Fucked. Loved.

Kinktober Day 16: Hate-Fucked

Male Rival Yandere x Male Reader CW: PAINFUL noncon, bloody non-con, oral sex, face-fucking, cum swallowing, kidnapping, non-sexual bondage, piss, reader pissed on in shower, OC hates reader then turns yandere, sadism, sadistic yandere, protective yandere, mind-broken reader, briefly feminized reader, forced crossdressing, brief display of homophobia/f-slur, psychological damage, violence, minor character death, WHUMP, angst but eventual comfort, weapons-grade Stockholm Syndrome, Dead Dove: DO NOT EAT Word Count: 4.1k (Oh lordy, this one is brutal. Hope you enjoy it anyway. Not betaread so please excuse any errors. The longest fic of kinktober and the finale. I wish you all a Scary Hexmas and hope this Hexmas time meal is filling. Don't forget to comment <3)

Will. Fucking. Hated. You.

He had ever since he first met you in grade school. It seemed that no matter what he did, you always had to show him up. The only area he seemed to do better than you was in popularity. But that just didn't fulfill him enough.

Will wanted real acknowledgment that he was better than you could ever be. He wanted it reflected in his grades and in the opinions of the teachers. He wanted absolutely everyone to see he was better than you.

He wanted you to see it, too.

But despite all of his unmitigated vitriol towards you, you always ignored it and treated him with kindness. You figured maybe he had a bad home life or some other difficulty that made him take it out on you. His behavior still made you cry sometimes... but you really wanted to make everyone like you. You were a people pleaser, and you wanted him to be happy.

But it infuriated him, stoked the embers of his hatred for you into a full-on inferno every single time you did it. To him, it was clear evidence that you thought you were better than him. That you were above him. Morally superior.

As if poor trash like you could be better than him.

He knew all your kind behavior was a farce to make him look bad. To taunt him.

One time, when Will had been out of school with a broken leg, you had gotten the entire class to join you in sending him get well cards. You had even made homemade cupcakes. He was sure you were laughing at him!!! Goading him. And convincing everyone you were so great at the same time. Fucking piece of shit.

No matter what you did in life Will couldn't stop following your path until he proved he was the better man. He was obsessed.

When you went to a small cheap college, he dutifully followed you to it. His family was immensely wealthy. He could have gone to a much more prestigious university, he could have just gotten a job in his father's company, but he didn't want to use his money or connections to prove he was better than lowly scum like you. He wanted you to see he was better in every metric.

And he had to be there to see your face when you were finally defeated.

He even went into your field so he could do the same courses. So he could prove that you were a piece of shit to be discarded in comparison to him.

Since you were going to school to be a nurse for the elderly, you saw Will's obsessive competition not as a crazy need to prove you to be inferior to him but instead as absolute proof that he was secretly a wonderful person. For how could someone so devoted to the care of the old possibly be bad? Especially when nurses were paid relatively little and he had come from such a wealthy background! It wasn’t exactly a glamorous job.

So you still treated him with kindness. It was okay that he didn't like you. Now that you knew he was actually sweet below that prickly exterior, you could laugh off all his cruel behavior towards you much more easily.

This was unacceptable to him.

When you both graduated, he even went to work at the same nursing home as you. This gave you the impression that maybe he was a bit crazy over you. But not in the way that he actually was. You thought he had a crush on you. You thought all his meanness towards you was probably internalized homophobia with his following you through life proof of him really liking you.

You made the conscious effort to make Will happier and be even nicer to him now that you were sure you knew the truth.

That isn’t how he saw you doubling down on kindness.

Taunting him. Taunting him. Taunting him. That's all you ever did. Flaunting it for years. Pretending to be unaffected by him. As if he was an insignificant speck of dust that did nothing to you. That's how he interpreted your behavior. He hated you so much.

The final straw was when you threw Will a small surprise birthday party in the break room at work. Of course, he had to pretend to love it. Eat your overly sweet homemade cake.

To him, it was the ultimate humiliation. He had to pretend to like it. To thank you for the cake and the gift you gave him. A gift card to his favorite store.

You were just so smug. Thought you had pulled a great victory over him, he was sure. It wasn't like he could say anything. If he did, he would sound crazy. No one would believe him if he told them that you threw him the party just to anger and embarrass him.

Will snapped. He didn't show it, though. He acted calm for days as he slowly readied his revenge. He readied his basement and got all the required supplies for his self-appointed task. His reason for being. To break you and get revenge for the countless times you had made a fool of him.

For days after the party, Will had acted a lot calmer and less aggressive towards you. No more mean or sarcastic comments at your expense. You thought that maybe he was finally getting to a point where he was accepting his feelings.

But you couldn't have been more wrong. Will didn’t have to retaliate to perceived slights. You were beneath him, and he was finally going to prove it to you in every sense of the word.

You had stayed late at the hospital. Will waited for you to leave and followed you out into the parking lot. You had walked to work since the weather had been so pleasant, and since it was such a short distance from your house, you had to pass through the nearly vacant parking lot to go home.

As you passed his car, Will reached out from the shadows and grabbed you. Before you could scream, he held a cloth over your mouth with a strong hand. You struggled profusely until the chloroform overwhelmed you, and your body went completely limp. Will briefly noted that you looked kind of peaceful and cute before stuffing such gross thoughts aside. He quickly tied you up and hogtied you before stuffing you into his trunk and driving off. The journal you kept in your pocket fell out in the trunk.

His house was several miles outside of town. It was a long drive, long enough for you to regain consciousness, but that’s what your binds were for.

You were understandably terrified and disoriented. You had not even seen who had grabbed you, and they hadn’t spoken either, so you had no idea who had nabbed you or what they wanted.

When the car finally stopped, you heard your attacker snicker after opening the trunk. You redoubled your efforts to break free of your binds. But the rope that held you was too sturdy for that. Your abductor picked you up with some effort and quickly carried you into a building. You could only tell because the air changed and the sound of the door closing behind you.

You began screaming and shrieking into your gag, but succeeded only in hurting your own throat. Even if the screams had not been muffled by the cloth gagging your mouth, there were no other houses within earshot of you. And this wasn’t an area with any traffic either. Will had thought this all out.

You heard the rattling of chains and felt the cold touch of a metal collar around your neck. He rummaged through your pockets to take your phone, then your clothing was peeled away, and the binds around your arms replaced with handcuffs restraining your arms painfully behind you. The gag muffling your screams was removed, and you began sobbing pleas for your freedom.

The last thing taken from you was the blindfold. You stared up in confusion, not believing for a moment who you saw. Will, looking down at you with insane erratic green eyes and a smile that left a chill on your very soul. His medium length brown hair was unkempt, adding to the terrifying visage before you.

“Wha..? Will… Plea-!!”

You were interrupted by a sharp slap to the face that made your eyes water.

“Shut the fuck up! I am the one talking here. You don’t get to manipulate me with your smug words… I have been waiting so long to put you in your place. I think we should commemorate the moment!”

The unhinged man rummaged in a drawer until he pulled out a camera and took a few pictures of your sorry state. He put the camera away and produced a sharp knife from his pocket which he then held up to your oh so delicate throat. You sobbed more fervently.

“Aw, you’re crying already? We haven’t even gotten to the fun yet! We need to pace ourselves.”

His breathing was heavy. Like he was infusing his sadistic desires into the air with each breath he pulled into his lungs.

“Let’s make one thing clear from the start, if you try to escape or fight back, I will slit your throat. Do you understand?”

You nodded shakily. You knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against him in a fight. Even if he didn’t have the knife, he was still a very fit man.

“I am just SO excited… What should we do first… What will show I am better than you?”

As he sat down on the edge of a large bed a few feet from you and mumbled to himself you finally had a chance to catch your breath and try to calm the slightest bit down while you took in your foreign surroundings. You were in a neat, sparsely furnished room that appeared to be a basement. You were chained by the neck to a pole that was behind you. Only a scratchy blanket separated your bare skin from the cold concrete below. The bed he was on looked out of place, as if it had recently been moved down here, but it was clearly not for you.

“I know!”

Will walked up to you and pulled out his erect cock, evidently excited by having you under his control. He pressed the head of the thick appendage against your lips while smiling maniacally down at you in the same way that he had before, his meaning clear.

“Well hurry and get started then. And if you bite I think you know what will happen.”

Your jaw ached as you sucked him clumsily. It was rather large and you were rather inexperienced. It didn’t help that your hands were unavailable to help you grip the shaft to speed up the process. As he got closer and closer to orgasm he became more forceful. First humping into your mouth steadily and eventually gripping each side of your head hard and violently fucking your face until you thought you were going to pass out.

“You better not spill any!”

Finally he slammed down your throat, pressing your nose into his curly pubes, and came hard. You gagged but managed to swallow it all as he pulled out.

“Fuck. Maybe you were made to suck my cock. That was the best nut I think I have ever had. Don’t forget to clean it.”

After gasping for a moment you licked his cock clean of cum and saliva and he put it back in his pants. You had fantasized about doing things with him, but never like this.

You sobbed and asked why he was doing this, and he immediately put a stop to it by punching you in the gut, leaving you reeling.

“I still don’t want to hear your bitching.”

“You should know why. This is what you get for always looking down on me and having everyone convinced that you’re so great!”

He got in bed before continuing.

“You always thought you could compete with me, make people think you were better, outdoing me. But now you know you’re beneath me. I don’t know about you but I am tired from all the excitement, I need rest.”

Sleep did not come easily for you as painfully restrained as you still were, but eventually, you silently sobbed yourself into a state of unconsciousness. It was a fitful rest, one plagued by nightmares.

You awoke to the sight of Will leering down at you.

"Hey, sleeping beauty! I’m off this weekend, so we will have the next couple of days all to ourselves. I wanted more time, but I couldn’t take vacation right as you went missing. So we'll just have to make the best of it.”

Your lip quivered in fear of the horrors Will had in store for you. It was a warranted response. He started the day by having you gag on his morning wood and licking his nuts and dick clean of the cum that dribbled down them when he came.

You got smacked for spilling a drop, but it wasn’t as brutal as your treatment the night before.

Then he decided that you needed a shower so he hosed you down with cold water in the basement’s bathroom, the chilling concrete room had a drain in the floor making it a very convenient location for Will to torment you in as he did not need to worry about flooding. The concrete exasperated the chill. While the water was still running he took a moment to further degrade you by whipping out his half-hard cock and taking his morning piss all over you.

After that he noticed you sobbing silently again, your naked form shivering with anxiety, fear, and of course the bitter cold.

“Awe, are you crying like a little girly? Maybe you should be dressed like one then…”

A light bulb seemed to go off in your abuser’s mind.

“Hey, give me a minute!”

He tied you back up painfully before leaving abruptly. He came back with a maid outfit from a costume store down the street, it was October so it was open for Halloween.

"You look like such a slut in that, like the filthy whore you are."

You continued looking away in shame and humiliation.

"I bet you have a cunt like a girl's too. Bet you want to get railed by a real man."

"Stop it Will! A-anything but that! Please... I'm sorry!!"

That only pissed him off.

"You're not making the demands here slut!" He smacked you hard across the face, causing you to yelp.

"And you're not sorry yet... but you will be..."

He dragged you over and tossed you on the bed. You were shaking, crying into the pillowless mattress. You wanted to run but were terrified of what he would do. He was much stronger than you.

You heard the sound of him undoing his belt and pulling down his pants.

He spit on his cock and rubbed it to full length. Just enough lube so he could enter you. Not enough to do anything to bring you comfort.

The mattress sank with his additional weight as he got on. He positioned you with your ass up and moved the skirt of the maid outfit to show off your ass. You sobbed more. What had you done to deserve this? Had you hurt him somehow? Had he mistaken something someone else did for your own actions?

Will gripped your hips, nails biting into your flesh. He pulled you back hard and thrust forward at the same time. It felt like fire. His cock split your ass brutally and you screamed as loudly as you could. Will smirked. Music to his ears.

"Don't pretend that you don't want it. This is what fags like you are made for!"

A smack echoed as he slapped your ass but you didn't even register it beneath the all consuming pain of him violating you in such a brutal manner.

Will kept slamming into you over and over. Pulling out almost fully each time before thrusting back in as hard as he could. When he saw blood on his cock it only encouraged him. It wasn't like Will was into blood or anything. He wasn't really a sadist at all under normal circumstances, but he certainly was when it came to you. He was finally putting the trash that mocked and looked down on him in his place. The blood, tears, and choked sobs of pain were just evidence of that.

It felt like the violation was going on for an eternity. The burning pain was unrelenting as he mocked and teased you the whole time. You didn't even know he was talking anymore, and due to straining your voice, you could no longer scream. Will finally drove into you deeply and came hard. He stayed in a moment and let his cock twitch and pulse cum into you. He had totally owned you.

But when his anger ebbed away and he pulled out he saw the blood stained cum flow out of your abused hole. He saw your shaking crying form gripping the sheets tightly. He heard your ragged, uneasy breaths. He knew you were having a panic attack.

What was wrong? This was what he had wanted, wasn't it? To break you. But now that he had, he could only stare in horror at what he had done to you. Even if you had snubbed your nose at him and thought yourself superior, this wasn't a proportional response. Nothing could justify... this...

Will cleaned himself off haphazardly and pulled his pants back up. Then he removed the clothing from your body and picked you up.

He had to make things better.

You weren't aware of your surroundings. You had mostly withdrawn into your own mind. You kept mumbling that you were sorry over and over into his chest.

"No, no, no. Shhh. Don't be. I'm sorry. I'm the bad one... Shit, I'm so sorry..."

His words went past your ears, and you continued your chant-like apology over and over and over. Your brain just couldn't accept that someone could hate you so much without you having done something to deserve it.

Tears threatened to roll down his face, but he wouldn't let them. It was his fault. He wasn't the victim here.

Why had he done this? Because of some childish rivalry that may have only been in his head? No, he couldn't accept that it was in his head. Not yet. He couldn't just let go of the years of animosity towards you he had been harboring. But... still... he obviously took things way too far...

Will drew a bath and placed you in it gently. A stark contrast to how he had treated you up until this point. He washed you carefully, meticulously cleaning the wounds he had inflicted to prevent infection.

You slumped against the tub, eyes staring at nothing, as he washed you of all the filth and blood he had marred you with.

The rest of the weekend passed, and you had scarcely improved. You still muttered apologies and could manage to use the restroom on your own, but he had to feed you himself.

He didn't know what he was going to do. He hadn't actually planned on what to do when he was done brutalizing you. He couldn't just let you leave. There was no way he was going to prison. If he did, you'd be dumped in some psych ward and forgotten about.

He no longer needed the pictures he had taken to blackmail you as you were practically catatonic anyway. You couldn't care for yourself in this state at all.

Your abductor refused to leave you there while he returned to work, and without you 6 had no reason to go back anyway. He had been worried that it would be suspicious if the two of you disappeared on the same day, but he had your phone and just had to make up a scenario that would keep people away. Neither of you were particularly close to anyone, so it wouldn't be difficult.

The excuse he gave was that the two of you were going to move back to your hometown and get high paying jobs working for your father. He figured he could take care of you himself for a week or two while he got things worked out with his dad. Then he could take you with him to a new house there and hire a discrete caretaker to watch you while he was at work.

During the time before the move Will would sometimes get fed up with you and have to catch himself before he screamed or accused you of faking to guilt trip him.

As the week went on, he even caught himself thinking it was a bit cute when you were sleeping while he held you. He had to remind himself constantly that even though he went way too far, you were still in the wrong somewhat for how you had acted.

And then, while he was cleaning his trunk to pack your belongings he had retrieved from your place, he found your journal in his trunk and its contents finally got through to him. It detailed your crush on him and how you thought he must have one on you because of how he behaved towards you. It went on about your thoughts and feelings about your coworkers and all your interactions with them, including all the kind things you went out of your way to do to make them all happy.

It was obvious to him now that you were a real-life cinnamon roll. Part of the reason people liked you was because they could exploit your kindness, and they clearly had. And he had done far worse than that.

There was only one thing he could possibly do to even begin to make things right. He wasn't into men like you were, but he would be your boyfriend and eventual husband.

He would also make you his assistant at his new job so he could watch over you personally. It wasn't like he had to devote much time to work. He had an upper management position and could delegate most tasks. You had begun to do more basic things for yourself when directed so you could eat and sit and look busy so no one would suspect anything.

Eventually, after months of delicate, tender care, you were able to speak more and think properly again. Though you were still a nervous mess occasionally plagued by vivid nightmares that replayed what you had experienced. You never dared trying to escape. The lessons of obedience you had learned your first days with Will had been ingrained deeply within your psyche. And with your newfound anxiety, you couldn't really take care of yourself completely alone. You were dependent on him for employment.

Well, at least your boyfriend treated you kindly by that point. As if you were a porcelain doll that would crumble to dust under the slightest mean gaze.

In fact, rude employees had been fired for even shooting you a glare. And when there was a jealous bitch that had mean words to say about his darling assistant and lover? Some hired goons provided her with a broken nose one dark night.

When Will announced his engagement to you, his father objected because of your lower status and humble origins. He screamed at you directly accusing you of being a gold digging whore unworthy of his son. You curled up in the corner of the room, crying and trembling. Soon after that his father came down with a terrible case of sudden onset poisoned to fucking death with an untraceable toxin that gave him a stroke, a common enough cause of death for a man of his age.

Will wouldn't let anything threaten or hurt you. And if that meant his dad had to die, then so be it. You were his responsibility. But beyond that, what had started with him taking accountability for his actions towards you had slowly evolved into genuine love and care for you.

It took a long time, but eventually, your feelings towards him evolved into love, too. You would always be a little broken, a little fearful of him, but he was the only person you really had, he had isolated you thoroughly and was constantly in your presence, so it was inevitable that you'd start to see him in a better light.

[tonycries]

F*ck You! (Literally) - T.F.

Synopsis. Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, angry séx, spítting, degradation, y’all are both mean, rough, jealousy (Toji’s side), bréeding, smackíng, arguíng during it, cúmplay, overstím, oral (female receiving), mentions of Megumi and Shiu, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.7k

A/N. Gojo next week because I miss my man smh.

It’s not often that you contemplate something that would definitely end up with a night in jail - but it seems that somehow whenever you did, your ex-husband Toji was always sure to be the cause of it.

Like that time he had the audacity to ask you out to dinner right outside the divorce attorney’s office, mere moments after signing those papers. Or when he “accidentally” sent you some mouthwateringly shirtless photos - through email, of course, because you had him blocked otherwise. Although, you’d saved those pictures - a secret you’d take to the grave.

And now. 

Standing right outside your front door, on the night of what would’ve been your fifth anniversary. His imposing figure filling the frame, that tiny scar you loved and hated so much quirking up ever-so-slightly as he shoots you a sly grin. 

He’s here.

Looking as devastatingly handsome as the day you left him.

“Happy anniversary, ex-wifey.”

And just as irritating, too. 

That snaps you out of your traitorous little reverie, and before long you’re sputtering out a shaky, “Y-you. What do you think you’re doing here?” Not even waiting for his response before moving to shut the door in his face.

“Oh, believe me,” Toji lets out a humorless little laugh, reaching up a sculpted arm to stop the door in its tracks. “I wouldn’t be here even if I wanted to.”

That was a lie - and Toji knew that. He had half the mind to think that you knew that. But it didn’t matter when you’re glaring up at him so prettily. The confusion evident on your face as you grit out a shrill, “Then why am I seeing your stupid face tonight?”

“Chance? Luck? A blessing?” 

Scoffing, “A curse.”

“That mouth’s still as sharp as ever, huh?” He cocks his head in amusement, “Did you not see my email?”

“No, I uh-” you mumble, face burning. And oh you wish you could stop yourself from thinking back to those photos - stop yourself from wanting to smack the smirk off Toji’s face that told you he was, too. “-blocked you on…that…as well.”

“Mhm.” he hums, eyes lingering too long on your comfy pajamas - his favorite ones -  and the way you’re squirming so adorably under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, m’just here to pick up one of that brat’s toys. Won’t take long n’ I’ll be out of your sight, doll.”

And you can’t say anything about that familiar little petname, because it hits you with a pang - oh, how you missed Megumi. 

He’d thrown a tantrum until he was allowed to visit you occasionally, of course. But still, it was nothing compared to how inseparable the three of you were before your relationship with Toji soured. His line of work too dangerous, the fights more frequent until you’d had enough.

“Ah, yes. Megs probably won’t even leave the house without it.” you chuckle, opening the door wider. “I was surprised to find it the other day since he said that lil’ plushie was his best friend. After me.”

“After me.”

“Liar.”

“Gorgeous.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fitting for our anniversary, huh?” And oh how Toji enjoyed riling you up. To spy that little furrow between your brows as he strides inside your apartment like it was his own - he did know it like the back of his hand. “I already know where the bed is, after all.”

“Yeah, and you know where the door is too.” you mutter, acting like it didn’t make your head spin to think of Toji - in your home. With you. You and Toji. In your home. You and Toji in your home. 

You hadn’t seen him since the divorce just four months ago, and here he was looking so unfairly like he fit right in. Taking up much more time than necessary as he walks towards that little wolf toy on your couch. Eyeing up the sappy romance movie paused on-screen, and those familiar photographs on the wall. 

You still had that one of the two of you from that beach getaway two years ago, he noted with delight. 

“Heh, for someone that hates me so much, s’funny you have my face hung up here.” he smirks, words just dripping with that familiar dark tone that has shivers running down your spine. “Knew you were still into me.” Defiant - challenging, even, because he always did like to push all your buttons. 

Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for-

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, walking towards where Toji stood. “I jus’ use it to scare off clingy dates in the morning.” 

And you loved to push his buttons even more. 

“Oh? Dates, huh?” And something about those words make you feel like something’s too-tense. Exciting, even. Especially as he repeats - more to himself than you, “Dates.”

“Jealous?”

“Heh, of whatever scrub took you out? In your dreams, doll.” Maybe it was the way Toji was joking - but didn’t sound like he was at all. Or maybe it was the way he didn’t move as you stepped closer, enough that you’re almost toe-to-toe with him. Probably it was the way he murmurs out a strangled, “M’not jealous.”

Oh. 

You watch the way his body stiffens, darkened eyes flitting between you and the picture and you- Smirking “Good, because m’having one over soon.”

“Oh, you little bitch.” He spits out the words, gaze hardening in a way you knew did not bode well for your - or down there. Hitting it where it hurts, “This is why I’m so fuckin’ glad we divorced.”

“Fuck you,” you tilt your head, anger simmering beneath your skin - and you didn’t know who was pissing each other off more. “So then you can get out before my date gets here.” And the emphasis on “date” isn’t lost on him.

“Such a liar.”

“M’not lying.” You were - but you didn’t care if Toji could tell because it was ticking him off just the same. “You could say he’s an-” Now close enough that you could feel the heat of his proximity. A finger stabbing right in his pecs with each word, “-upgrade.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled to his rock-hard chest, all the dips and curves of his body so sinfully obvious against your skin as he questions, “How so?”

“Well, for starters he’s-” you gasp, casting a sidelong glance at the way the muscles in his arms ripple. And it takes everything in you to try and keep your voice steady, “-bigger.” Thighs pressing together at the tiny grunt of disbelief that leaves your ex-husband, too-aware of the strong hand wrapped around your waist. “And sexier.”

“And?”

“And what?” you gulp, raising your head to blink up at him in confusion and oh- 

Oh, shit. You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Toji’s eyes were wide, a mirthless smirk spreading across his face, jaw tensing as he leans down to whisper hotly against your ear, words hoarse - stilted, like it pained him to even speak them into existence. “And what other lies are ya gonna make up?”

And you might be a genius - you might just not know what’s good for you. 

Because you’re batting your lashes just the way you knew he liked, the words - saccharine sweet, and falling from your lips faster than your whirling brain could even register them. “And he makes me cum so much harder.”

Toji’s lips are crashing against yours - and you knew it was coming. You wanted them to. Bruising, angry - like he was telling you to just shut the fuck up, another word of your imaginary date and it would kill him. 

He tasted the same as he did all those months ago. Sweet, like those cheap lollipops he would buy you and that absolute sin of his scar rubbing against your lips. 

“Fuck-” he lets out a guttural groan into your lips. Only a sloppy mix of teeth and spit as he kisses you with the collective desperation of a little over four months. “Hate how you’re-” Like he didn’t even care if it left your poor lips swollen and bruised - at least that might give whatever loser coming here a hint. “-still addictive.”

With that, he picks you up like it’s just nothing, your traitorous legs easily wrapping around his toned waist. Letting you pull off that sinfully snug t-shirt to feel the smooth planes of all his muscles. Soft. Warm. 

You gasp at how he manhandles you so that your thin pajama pants are just above his achingly hard cock, throbbing, and so so angry against your core. Trousers already so damp with- precum? Your slick? 

“Hah- not jealous my ass-” you hiss, grinding down on his bulge.

And Toji’s parting mere millimeters, chuckling darkly at the disappointed little whine that escapes you. “Yeah, well, does he ever get you like this?” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, purposely not giving you what you want. “Does he ever get you this-” Grinding you against his straining erection, two fingers sliding down, just teasing the drenched front of your shorts. “-this fuckin’ wet?”

“Nah,” you pull on Toji’s silky locks, nipping at his collarbone. “He gets me wetter.”

“You little-”

It’s like something snaps - whatever’s left of Toji’s sanity, your patience, possibly you by the end of this. Anything but the thick, suffocating - tension in your living room. Now too small. Too hot. 

Before you can react, your back  is hitting the soft cushions of your couch. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw as Toji looms over you. 

“Thought you knew where the bed was?” you manage to get out, in the heat of it all. 

“Thought you hated me?”

“Gonna kill you if you break this cou-” but the rest of the retort on your tongue dies as Toji’s hands are suddenly everywhere.

Groping your breasts - your waist - your ass. Barely giving you time to even think before fisting your shirt in one hand. Too impatient - too starved - to do anything other than pull down, down, down until it-

RIP!

“Oh you fuckin’ slut.” Toji’s jaw drops into a soft little oh! at the sight of your heavenly breasts before him. No bra - exactly how he liked it. “How I missed these.” Massaging them under his hands, “Is this for him or ya really had no idea I was coming?”

“You’re t-too fuckin’ hah-” you whine as he immediately takes one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipples. “-full of yourself.”

And you don’t even know if Toji registered the insult - looking like he was on cloud nine as he rolled your other nipple between two fingers. Pulling off with a lewd pop! only to say, “Wonder if you’re the same down there.”

You are - Toji discovers, with wonder. 

Hooking a finger underneath the hem of your already-soaked shorts to pull them off. And, hey, Toji hasn’t had this view in months - so he really can’t help himself from bringing them up to his face. Your jaw drops at his pure audacity as he breathes in the scent of your dripping pussy with a strained, “M’keepin’ these, doll.”

“You’re sick.” 

“And you’re soaked.” strong hands spread your legs so shamefully. You can’t fight it - how fucking wet and glistening you were for him under the dim-lighting. Toji grins cockily, “Who’s she this wet for, huh? Me or him?”

“Not- not you-” you whine, despite how your sloppy cunt was leaking all over your legs - such a mess. A mess that Toji was shifting down the couch to lick up. Slow, lazy circles right at your inner thighs. Sweet - so sweet, his favorite. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste and oh, how Toji missed this. 

Missed teasing you until you broke. 

Which, it turns out, happens fairly early.

“Y-you’re just fucking talk.” you hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. Your voice betraying how badly you wanted him. Needed him to do something - anything. “He-”

Toji doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - and you don’t need to - because without another word, he’s surging forward until he was nose-deep in your messy cunt.

Licking one, long stripe up your swollen folds - up and down, up and down, up and- He murmurs into your cunt, “Do ya still like when I-” Hot tongue flicking roughly against your clit. Just barely, and you’re bucking wildly underneath him. “Ah, you do. Old habits die hard, huh?”

Of course, the only response that Toji gets is a wet, pathetic murmur of something - maybe a plea, probably a curse at him to shut up. 

But it’s something that has all the blood rushing to his aching cock, something that has him biting down lightly on your inner thigh - just a little punishment. 

“What was that?” he purrs, “Didn’t seem to hear you right, wifey.”

It takes everything in you to gasp out, a barely-audible determined little, “I-I said-” fingers threading through Toji’s hair, pulling up his face. Hard, so that he’s forced to meet your eyes instead of admiring your pretty lil’ cunt. “-fuck you.”

And you don’t know what you expected - maybe an insult back, maybe for him to get up and leave you all high and dry right then and there.

But oh you should’ve known your ex-husband better, because he has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh, more to infuriate you than anything as he promptly spits on your quivering pussy. 

Once. Twice.

You flinch as some splatters against your thigh, and you both know it’s on purpose. Because Toji Fushiguro always had perfect aim - but when it comes to you, well, he had to knock his bratty lil’ wife down a few pegs. 

Throwing your legs over his shoulders to lick all over your sloppy pussy once more. “Fuck me, huh?” he groans out little profanities into your cunt, “Fuck me fuck me fuck me-” 

Smack!

You register that delicious little sting on your ass far before the realization that Toji smacked you - and even later do you realize that you liked it. Slick beading through at the painfully good feeling.

Liked the way his rough palm was soothing over the sting, words strangled and slurring together as he smacks his lips against your swollen, sensitive ones. “I’d rather you fuck me than some hah- other loser.”

“S-so fucking mean-” you moan.

“So what?” His thumb draws tight little circles on your throbbing clit, the other hand looping around your waist - bruising - as he drags your sloppy pussy all over his hot mouth. “No one else could do this.” Soft tongue going all the way up from your base, “Get you this wet-” Just dipping into your clenching hole. “-taste you like this.”

“Hngh- fuck-” you groan, as he alternates between flicking your clit so mean and squeezing his tongue into your tight cunt. “Fuck fuck fuck- s’too much-”

Too much? Toji wanted to laugh - if he wasn’t so addicted to the feeling of your gummy walls stretched out so obscenely on his tongue, anyway. He knows you can take it - you always did. 

And he tells you that - a little over ten times, actually, as the hand on your waist arches you deeper and deeper onto Toji’s tongue. Fucking you so harshly - merciless. Unrelenting. Like he was taking any and every shred of anger out on your ravaged cunt.

Bucking your hips wildly, you tipping your head down to look at the sight below you and oh-

You gasp at how sinfully blissed out Toji looks between your thighs. Eyes glassy and hooded, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. Your slick glossing his lips so prettily - and if you angled your head just right you could catch the way it drips down his jawline. Yeah, maybe you really did like his face between your legs. 

“Always knew ya did, doll.” he echoes against your glistening lips and shit, did you say that out loud? 

It doesn’t matter, because Toji has his lips smushing against yours, such a filthy mess of spit and fingers and tongue - everywhere. Like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to taste more. “Knew your pussy missed me, even when you’re such some other bastard. She’s still so sweet.” Thrusting in and out faster past that first, feeble ring of resistance. “So messy f’me. Fuckin’ my tongue so good for s-someone that hates me.”

And you have half the mind to wonder whether it hurt - how his fingers weren’t cramping up yet, lips aching. Letting you push his face deeper into your pussy, ankles locking around his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to shut him up. Close. 

“Y-you talk ngh- too much.” Blood roaring in your ears, feeling his smirk against your cunt. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nah, I know you ah- love it.” Smack! Another handprint on your ass that has you stuttering and jolting on his face. “Can feel you clenching all around me because I-” Toji gives you such an infuriating wink from below,  “-eat this pussy the best.”

 And you would be mad at how cocky he was being - if you weren’t cumming all over his pretty face. 

Stars behind your eyes with each little lick of Toji’s tongue as he fucks you through your high, lapping up all your sweet sweet juices. 

“W-wait oh-” you were letting out such delirious little whines. “S’too sensitive- too- hngh-”

“No-” he grits out, voice shot. “No no no no- wan’ it. Need it.” Scrambling to pull your hips back onto his mouth. Fingers just bruising on your skin. 

He was like a man possessed, and you can only lay there and take it as Toji tips his head back to let your slick slide, down, down, down his throat. Voice shot, as he grits out, “Oh fuck, been holdin’ out on me.” Eyes unfocused and miles away as he comes up to squish your cheeks together in an embarrassing little pout. “Open that fucking mouth.” 

And you barely even realize it when you are - tongue lolling out so sinfully. The only thing jolting you back to whatever senses you have left is Toji spitting in your mouth. 

A steady, angry stream of saliva before his lips are clashing once more with yours. Purposefully letting your juices smear all over both your lips, tasting yourself and him and how desperate you were on his tongue-

“O-oh my god.” you break the kiss at the feeling of something so hard against your cunt. Delicate strings of spit snapping as you whirl down to look. Shit, when did he even take off his-

Ah, how Toji loves the breathless little whimper that leaves your lips at the sight of his too-tight boxers, the insults failing you now. Humming, “Like what ya see?” 

As if to prove his point, he tugs them down just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free. Fuck, you think you’ll never get used to it, even after so long - Toji was so fucking massive. Flushed red, soaked in beads of precum that drip down, down, down all the way to the tufts of black at his toned pelvis. 

So thick and angry that your legs were clenching together just at the mere sight. And Toji notices - how could he not?

“Yeah…” he murmurs, as if continuing a conversation from before. Muscled arms pushing your thighs apart to watch how your sloppy pussy was drooling all over the couch. “She definitely missed me, look how much she’s gushing.” Pooling your juices on his fingertips, “Clean your act up, doll”

“Shut up.” you squeal, embarrassedly, giving Toji a glare that makes his balls squeeze so painfully. Smirking, “You’re not even as big as him.”

Oh. 

Well, Toji didn’t like that - not one bit, in fact, as he shoves his dripping wet fingers in your mouth - pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knows will have your pretty eyes welling up with tears.

“Then why aren’t you with him, you little bitch. Think I like you better when you’re f-fucked dumb.” he spits dangerously against your lips. Fisting his cock to lazily drag up and down your puffy folds. “Don’t you hah- agree?”

He doesn’t get to find out if you agree - and he doesn’t care, either. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to give an answer even if you wanted to. Because his swollen cock was too thick, the stretch too sinful, too dizzying as Toji splits you apart on his unforgiving cock. 

“Mmmpf- fuck! Hah-” you mewl, torn between running away from his cock and bucking down for more more more-

“More?” he laughs, “Ya ask him for more like this too?”

And oh how so very cute and pliant you were being stuffed full. He barely gives you the time to adjust because - why would he? Toji has his mouthy wife all breathless and splayed out so shamefully, desperately trying to milk his cock for all he’s worth. 

Barely even halfway in, yet he rocks into you in shallow, teasing little grinds just to fit himself inside your tight pussy. So mean. Not giving a fuck about those teary whimpers leaving your mouth.

“They ever ngh- fuck you like this?” he rasps, dropping his head to leave little bites down your tender neck. “Ever h-having you crying for his dick like ngh- this?” And despite all his confidence, Toji didn’t want to hear the answer - didn’t want to know the truth. “Such a slut.”

Your nails rake angrily down his sculpted shoulders - a warning, and it’s about the only thing you can do as Toji speeds up. Faster. Deeper. 

“Heh, what? Markin’ me up for others to hah- see?” he cooes, mockingly. And you could just cry as his grin widens, finally - finally - pulling his fingers out. “Why don’t you ngh- use your words instead?”

And you should probably breathe, probably tell him to fuck you exactly the way he wants to - to confess to him that this is all you’ve ever wanted on those lonely nights these past four months. But the both of you know that it’s more fun this way.

So instead, you smile sweetly, “F-fuck you. They do - a lot better, too.”

If only your voice hadn’t cracked so unconvincingly at the end - if only you hadn’t let out such a pornographic moan as Toji pulls your face to meet his. Kissing you over and over and his hips-

“I’m the one fucking you, doll.” he bites down on your lower lip, tugging and pushing at a senseless little rhythm - the complete opposite of his hips. “Remember that.” And that’s all that’s said before Tojis finally bottoming out all the way to the hilt. Heavy balls smacking sinfully against your ass, fat head just kissing your cervix. “It’s me. I don’t give a hah- shit if it’s been f-four mouths, it’ll always be ngh- me.”

The couch creaked in protest as Toji fucked you like it was the last thing he’d do. Like he was trying to fuck every thought of whoever came after him right out of you - along with those silly little thoughts about the divorce.

“B-but-” your eyes widen as Toji runs his mouth - as hasty and urgent as his movements now. Fingers snaking up to toy with your still-sensitive clit, not even drawing circles anymore - just messy, little patterns just to get you off. “We’re already-”

“You s-still think we’re oh- nothing but exes?” he questions, sounding as surprised as you felt. “We can’t stay ah- God, we can’t stay apart and you fuckin’ know it. So…”

You gulp, already knowing the answer to the question he was just goading you into asking. “So?” 

“So…” Toji muses, giving your swollen lips a short, chaste peck. Whispering against them, “M’gonna hah- fuck you till everyone knows you’re mine.”

A promise that Toji Fushiguro was well and fully intent on fulfilling. And you didn’t doubt that he’d have any trouble with it, in fact. 

Because he’s rutting into you so animalistically now, so so sloppy. Torn between savoring the feeling of your plushy walls squeezing him to insanity and abusing your poor cervix. Prominent veins making you feel a maddening little thump thump thump as he roams for that one-

“Ah! Hngh- Toji!”

Found it. 

And Toji had everything he needed - you, his wife, spread so sinfully and stuffed to the brim with him. Hitting your sweet spot over and over- 

“No loser’s gonna fuck you like this.” he breathes against your ear. “Have you ngh- feeling this good.”

“I- ngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” you let out, hips mindlessly bucking down in a pathetic attempt to meet his rough thrusts. “S’too- hah- oh my god. S’too good-”

“Shut up.” Oh he sounds so absolutely wrecked. Sanity crumbling away bit by bit every time he’s plunging his cock - so painfully hard - into your wet pussy. “Do you even ah- realize how sexy you look right now?” Toji throws his head back, eyes still locked on you like it killed him to look away. “Never lettin’ anyone else s-see ya like this. They’re gonna look at you and see me-”

You don’t even know what he’s babbling about anymore. Just that his achingly hard cock was making such a mess of you, pulling back only to go deeper. Massaging all the right spots as fucked you harder into the couch. 

“Me-” he gasps. “That date is gonna fuck- know,” Hips stuttering and absolutely filthy, “That cashier d-down the ngh- street that eyes you up every time is gonna know-” Angry. Desperate. So, so needy. “Your fucking lawyer- ngh- s’gonna know. They’ll s-see you and see me me me me-”

At this point you can only nod deliriously, letting out a broken little, “Hngh- yeah, wan’ that, Toji. Wan’ you so bad.”

Toji presses another chaste kiss - this time to your forehead. Whispering a quiet, “Then cum f’me, doll.”

You do - the hardest you ever think you ever have in your entire life. Thighs shaking, vision spotty, sparks of white-hot electricity going all the way from your hazy brain to where Toji was fucking you through it.

Muffling your moans with his mouth as he gives one, harsh thrust. Then spilling into your gummy walls, painting it all an obscene white with rope after rope of hot cum. 

So wet and hot - with him. All him. 

And you look so cute taking it all like the good little wife that you are, that he can’t help but press down on your lower stomach. Awe-struck at how your cunt gushes around him, coating his twitching cock as Toji fucks his seed deeper and deeper into you. 

But, hell, that wasn’t his favorite part - not by a long shot. Instead, it was probably when you pulled him into his arms, whispering sweet little nonsense in his ear about “how you missed this” and “that date wasn’t real anyway” as he fucks the two of you through your highs. Sweet. Familiar. 

“Oh, God-” he mutters into the crook of your neck, slightly calmer now. Much more clear-minded than the two of you were mere seconds before. “We broke the couch.” 

And it was true - one side was sagging much more than the other. Though you can only let out a giggle in response. Doesn’t matter, the two of you’ll pick out a new one tomorrow - he always hated this new one, anyway. “Happy anniversary, wifey.”

---

“Damn kid, that ol’ dad of yours sure is running late.” Shiu crosses and uncrosses his legs with slight nervousness. Eyeing the small, dark-haired boy playing with blocks a few feet away, “Maybe we should-”

“It’s okay. He’ll be back.” Megumi deadpans, sounding like the absolute last thing on his mind was why his dad was taking way too long for what should’ve been a half an hour errand. Shiu - on the other hand - had his mind whirling with imaginations of traffic accidents or murders or- what if the two of you killed each other- “And he’ll bring back mama too.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. The older man stared wide-eyed at a slightly-smiling Megumi. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait- no, what did you-”

“Nothing.”

Because, hey, Megumi might’ve had to go without his favorite wolf plushie for a bit - but a magician never reveals his tricks, right?

A/N. So how does it feel to be played by a kid, hm?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[mulloey]

the shop

your car has broken down for the nth time, but yunho’s there to save the day. just your luck you don’t have enough money to pay him.

mechanic!yunho x fem!reader

words: 2.7k

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warnings: dom!yunho, sub!reader, paying with your body trope, you already wanted to fuck him though, probably inaccurate pricing for car repair services cus i can’t drive tbh, unprotected sex, degrading, choking, slapping, creampie etc. not proofread

—

You’re dizzy and delirious, putty in his hands as he holds you firmly in place, right where he wants you.

“Y-Yunho!” You squeal. You writhe in his grip a little but it’s far too strong to resist.

He’s got you bent over the hood of the car—your car—while he pounds into you like a desperate, starving man. His overalls are hanging around his waist, just low enough for him to pull his cock out; his white t-shirt is soaked in sweat and the oil-covered gloves on his hands rub painfully against the skin of your hips.

“F-fuck,” he grunts. Your hips collide painfully with the hood every time he thrusts into you and your ass bounces and reddens each time your bodies collide. “What a fucking cock whore. You do this every time you can’t pay the bill? Huh?”

“N-no,” you sob. “Just you, Yunho. Just… hngh… just you.”

“I don’t believe you,” he snarls. His hand comes down on your ass again, raw and painful over the marks he left earlier and you find yourself looking back on everything that lead you here—lead you to being bent over your broken down car while the hottest man you’ve ever fucking seen is slamming his dick into you like his life depends on it.

You suppose the first part—ending up at the auto shop—was inevitable. The car was fucked when you bought it, honestly, but there weren’t many other options for a broke college student. You lived in another district where rent is cheaper, so needed a car to get to class. Didn’t matter how good it was, it just needed to run.

Trust your luck that that seemed to be the only thing it wouldn’t do.

For a period you managed to get by fixing it yourself; Youtube tutorials and favours from friends were enough to deal with all the minor issues that came up, but as minor issues tend to do, they quickly piled up on top of each other until, the morning your presentation was due, you put the keys in the ignition, started the car and—nothing. It did nothing. You were the unluckiest person in the fucking world.

You’d called your best friend immediately, hoping he’d be able to find and fix the problem, but really, you knew it was past that point now—and if you didn’t before, the shock on Hongjoong’s face when he’d popped the hood was evidence enough.

“Jesus, woman,” he said. “You gotta get this thing to a repair shop.”

“You know I can’t afford that,” you snapped back. Instantly you felt guilty for your tone, he was just trying to help after all, so you tried to soften up a bit. “Joong, can you really not fix it?”

“No, I’m sorry. But I know a guy who owns an auto shop. He’ll probably let me use my friends and family discount on you. I’ll give him a call.”

Relief flooded your chest and you hugged him tightly, thanking him profusely even as he walked away chuckling to make the call. In the meantime you called your professor; you thanked God you were such a good student, never missing class or assignments—you doubt she’d have been so forgiving otherwise. “Come by during office hours tonight and you can present it then,” she’d said, and you thanked her with a smile.

Okay, you thought. You just needed to deal with this, do your presentation and the nightmare would be over.

How wrong you were.

—

The auto shop was, well, pretty much how you pictured it. Cars in various states of completion sat in the spacious garage, walls piled with wheels and various other parts, the uses of which you probably would never have been able to guess. The only thing that took you by surprise was the tall, young looking guy who came up and introduced you as the owner.

“Hey, darling,” he smiled. “I’m Yunho. Let’s get you all fixed up, yeah?”

You blushed at his words, and the deep, sultry voice that spoke them. You imagined that was his intention; the way his eyes flickered up and down suggested the attraction was mutual. Or maybe that was just his personality; maybe the flirtatious tone, the innuendo of his words and his intense, intimidating gaze just came naturally to him.

He walked you over to where he had your car laid out and ready to go. Popping the hood, he surveyed the condition with a serious, focused expression. In the heat of the garage, his face was sweating slightly, and he swallowed thickly as he looked everything over. It made the vein in his neck bulge, tension obvious. When he stood back up again he seemed cool and assured; the opposite of you. You felt… confused. Hot. Tense.

“It’s not a huge problem,” he smiled. “Shouldn’t take more than an hour to fix it.”

You didn’t expect that. “Really?” You lit up, overjoyed and he chuckled.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’ve got a staff room if you wanna wait around. May as well, since I should be done pretty quick.”

“Oh, yeah.” That made sense; there didn't seem to be many cafes or places around here for you to wait in anyway—and even if there were, none of them offered the view that the staff room he led you to had; the large glass window looking directly into the garage. You’d be able to keep an eye on your car as he worked—and on Yunho.

He got to work straight away and though you knew next to nothing about cars, save for the Youtube tutorials on greasing brakes and whatever else, but his skill was obvious. His large hands, covered by thick, dirtied gloves, worked quickly and efficiently.

He clearly knew you were watching him, and he clearly enjoyed it; every now and then he would look up from the car, meeting your eyes and tilting his head with a small, smug smirk. When he stood up to unzip his overalls, revealing a thin white t-shirt clinging to his broad chest, you found yourself inching closer and closer to the window without realising. Only when your face was practically pressed up against the glass did you back away, blushing furiously as you sunk into your seat. What the hell was wrong with you?

You’d never been like this about a man. Not even close. No one had ever made you so needy, so hot, so desperate. You didn’t even know you could be affected by someone in this way, yet here you were; thighs clenched together, breathing heavily and your face so hot you were practically feverish. He’d catch your gaze now and then still, and the expression on his face told you he knew everything that was going on in your head—and your body.

The sight of him putting the hood back down was a mercy and a curse; your car was fixed, you could leave, and you could get away from this man; three things you’d been waiting desperately for all this time.

But…did you even want to leave? It would be the smart thing to do, and the sooner you could get him out of your head, the better. But everything in your body screamed at you not to go, to stay and see what happens—if nothing did, at least you’d know. At least you wouldn’t have to wonder for the rest of your life.

He gestured for you to come out of the staff room, proudly showing you your fixed car. Your attraction to him aside, Yunho’s skill surprised you; the old, battered vehicle almost looked new, and when he started the engine to check it worked it sounded clearer and healthier than ever. “Holy shit,” you muttered.

Yunho laughed. “Yeah, I’m pretty good. How do you wanna pay?”

You sighed. You never liked this part; who did? It was always painful to part ways with the little cash you earned at your god awful waitressing job, but you had to do what you had to do. “Card,” you mumbled.

“Alright,” he smiled. “It’s 250,000won. I’ll get the machine.”

He disappeared into what you guessed was another staff room and you stood awkwardly for a moment. Even with him gone the air was thick, sweaty; tense. He returned with the card machine, holding it out for you to take and you put your card in with shaking hands, pressing down the familiar numbers. Well, there goes the last of your mone—

The machine made a high-pitched, displeased noise that you knew all too well. Declined. You made a noise of shock, shaking your head in disbelief. It can’t have declined. You knew you had enough for this. You had to have enough. What the hell is—

Oh. Fuck. When they towed your car here this morning and you followed in a taxi with Hongjoong. When you insisted on paying the fare to thank him for his help. Fuck. You need to be a worse friend.

You didn’t realise you were crying until you felt hands on yours; he grasped your shaking hands carefully, holding them steadily. His face was blank, but he seemed thoughtful.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “Fuck, what do I– I swear I–”

“Hey, hey.” His voice was calm and soft but a little lower than before. “Relax, doll. We’ll work something out, yeah?”

“Work something out?” You echoed his words, voice shaking.

“Of course,” he smiled. He tilted his head and you saw his eyes raking over you again; but this time it felt less like leering and more like… an inspection. You knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Tell me.” His voice seemed to have dropped an octave, thick with tension. “Are you really out of money?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Are you really out of money?” He repeated it, slower this time as though he was trying to dumb it down for you. “Or did you do this on purpose?”

You shook your head fervently, your body heating up with embarrassment and desperation and shame and, well, pretty much everything honestly. “No, Yunho, I—”

“I think you did.” He was grinning now, eyes piercing as he stared you down. He was still for a moment, seeming to consider something before he grabbed your chin, yanking your head up to meet his eyes. The material of the gloves was rough against your soft skin and the tightness of his grip was even more painful. “I bet you put the wrong numbers in on purpose, huh? Didn’t you?”

“I…” You didn’t know what to say. You knew what he was saying wasn’t true, but fuck, you could already feel wetness pooling at the thought of what he’d do to you if it was. But he seemed to have made his mind up either way, so you decided to play his game—you widened your eyes fearfully, lip shaking as you said “I promise, I didn’t” in the most pathetic voice you could muster.

He knew what you were doing, and he fucking loved it. His smile widened as he leaned in closer to you. From this distance you could see his pupils were blown, eyes flashing with arousal. “I think you’re lying to me,” he whispers. “And you know what’s more, little girl?”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

He tightened his grip, yanking your head upwards again to expose your neck. His other hand wrapped itself around your throat like it belonged there. “I hate liars.”

—

You don’t even know how long he’s been fucking you now; your sense of time has blurred and muddied and it could have been minutes just as much as it could have been hours. All you can feel or think about is the feeling of his dick fucking you open, hitting your cervix over and over; and the strong arms that move and manipulate your body to increase his own pleasure.

He grabs your hair, yanking it back painfully and forcing you to look at him. “That’s it,” he grunts. “You’re gonna look at me while I’m fucking you, yeah?”

“Yes,” you cry. “Yes, Yunho.”

“Good fucking girl.” His other hand wraps around your throat again, choking you just this side of too much. The head rush it gives you only sends you further into delirium, amplifying the other sensations. His deep, strained voice is fire in your ears. “Fucking stupid whore, aren’t you?”

He punctuates it with an extra hard thrust and you cry out again, voice strangled. “Yes, Yunho!” You scream. “Yes!”

“Say it,” he growls. “Tell me you’re a fucking whore.”

“I’m a fucking whore,” you repeat. To hear the words from your own mouth, to taste them on your tongue as he forces you to degrade yourself sends another wave of pleasure through you that pushes you closer to the edge. Yunho makes a pleased sound, rewarding you by loosening his grip on your neck ever so slightly.

“You’re my fucking whore,” he whispers. “Yunho’s whore.”

“Yunho’s whore.” You repeat it without thinking and you feel him throb again inside you at your natural submission. “I’m Yunho’s whore.

“That you fucking are. Bending over for me over 250,000 fucking won. You’re a cheap little slut,” he spits. “But only for me, yeah?”

“Yes!” You feel yourself about to come undone and just as you finally reach breaking point he pulls out, cock hard and leaking; before you can protest he picks you up without a word, flipping you onto your back before shoving his cock back inside. “Wanna see you properly when I come in you,” he grunts. “Wanna see those eyes go fucking dumb for me.”

He lifts your legs and pushes them back towards you. The stretch is painful and uncomfortable but it’s hard to care about any of that when he’s fucking you so deep and hard. The weight of his hands pressing down on the backs of your thighs will surely leave bruises but you don’t mind—you’d probably love it, actually.

Now that you’re facing him you can see all the small details of his face while he fucks you; the beads of sweat pooling on his forehead, the black hair soaked through with it, the narrowed eyes and clenched jaw as his grip on your thighs tightens even further. He’s practically pressing all his weight against you now and it’s a delicious, painful pleasure. You reach out to him desperately—though desperate for what you’re not quite sure—and he grabs your hands, bending down to pin your arms against the car as he takes you in a hot, wet, messy kiss.

“Pretty girl,” he chokes. “So fucking pretty.”

“Yunho.” You feel tears pouring down your cheeks, overwhelmed with sensation, with the feeling of Yunho on every inch of your body. He pulls his mouth away from yours to press sloppy kisses across your jaw and neck, teasing the skin with his teeth. “Think you can come for me?” He murmurs. “Just from being used like this?”

“Yes, Yunho,” you whisper. “I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” he growls. He moves a hand down to press his thumb against your swollen clit, making you buck against him. “Come on my fat fucking cock like a good little girl. Earn your keep, baby.”

The heat in his words and the pressure of his thumb on your clit are enough to send you barrelling over the edge; you come with a noise you didn’t even know you made and he follows quickly, releasing inside of you with a strangled cry.

It’s silent for a moment and time seems to still while you process what’s just happened. You whine when you feel him pull out of you and he chuckles, gently slapping your pussy. “What a good girl,” he muses. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He sends you on your way with his business card in your pocket and his number in your phone. It takes you two weeks to find the nerve to call him, and that’s only because your car’s been making a weird noise that you can’t figure out. To be honest, it’s probably something Hongjoong or one of your other friends would be able to solve, but it’s too late now; you’ve already pulled up his contact and pressed call.

“Well hello, sweetheart.” Yunho’s voice is as deep as ever, his tone teasing. “Was starting to think I wouldn’t hear from you.”

“Yeah, um.” You clear your throat awkwardly, feeling yourself heat up again. “My car— it’s making a weird noise. Can you take a look at it?”

“Of course,” he says, and you hear the leering smile in his voice. “Why don’t you come down now? It’s a slow day at the shop anyway.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.”

“Great. Oh, and baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t bring your credit card.”

—

requests open! comments and feedback appreciated. love🖤🖤🖤

tags: @pixie0627 @hon3ysun @bbdeongi @hwaromi

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+

Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included. 

The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost. 

The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger. 

You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence. 

You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely. 

It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?

Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life. 

One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–” 

“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.” 

Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?” 

You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.

 “What are you trying to say?” You ask. 

“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."

Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?” 

Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.” 

Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did. 

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.” 

You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”

“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek. 

You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him. 

“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”

“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?” 

Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder. 

It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside. 

As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in. 

“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?” 

“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"

You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.

“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses. 

“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.

“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says. 

“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!” 

Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.” 

Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings. 

As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?

Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.

Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time. 

Chapter II [x]