#(he wanted a do-over to try to be better this time)

[kitimeq]

✿‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ say yes to heaven 🤍 sylus 秦 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ ✿

pairing ✿‧₊˚: lads sylus x reader

summary ✿‧₊˚: 3+1: three times Sylus suppresses his desire to have you, and one time his control finally snaps. sprinkled with relationship fluff, size difference, love confessions and whole lot of overthinking from our fav crow boy.

word count ✿‧₊˚: 13.6k (a whole ass freaking novella, grab a snack.)

tropes ✿‧₊˚: 18+, 3+1, smut, but packed with feelings, fluff, est. relationship, body worship, plot with porn??, love confessions, sylus is obsessed, and so in love, first times implied, p in v, size difference, (by size difference i mean sylus is freaking huge, like a mountain of a man, so big it actually makes him nervous bc u so small, every single one of us would be a small dot next to him that’s my personal headcanon, have you seen his ib memory? yeah, yeah u have this man HUGE), anyways what is protection they don’t use it don’t be like them, needy sylus, pet names, everything is consensual, awooo.

author’s note ✿‧₊˚: hello! i was cooking this one for so much time, i hope it’s not too boring! I’m not a native speaker so i apologize in advance for all mistakes or repetitions. I was also trying to write inclusive y/n and i hope i succeeded. I also did not imagine y/n to have a specific body type — i truly believe that no matter your size, next to sylus you would look like a crumb. as small as a pebble. believe me, i’ve studied the sacred texts (night of secrecy, grassland romance, innocent birdcage do i really have to keep on listing the memories where he enormous u get the gist). so!! i hope you’ll enjoy it ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

!!do NOT read if you’re not 18+!!

˙⟡⋆˚✿˖°⟡ ݁

Sylus usually considered himself to be a patient man.

He occasionally did act on his desires—he could admit that much—but when it came to the things he truly cared about, the things he treasured, he didn’t mind the wait. He knew that the best things in life came at a price, and if the currency was time, in this case he was willing to pay in full. He knew it was worth it. That you were worth it.

You, who accepted him as he was, with all his flaws and imperfections, making his life better every day you were together. You, who were so brave, gentle, and kind that you made him want to become a better man too—just so that one day, he could say he truly deserved you. You, who he had completely fallen for, unable to imagine a world in which he wouldn’t make the same choice of courting you all over again.

That’s why he wanted nothing more than to treasure and respect you in every aspect of life—including intimacy and his own desires. And to be perfectly candid, he had plenty of those from the very moment he laid eyes on you. But he wanted to act like a gentleman, never rushing you into anything. He was patient, waiting for you to make the first move. He wanted to be sure you trusted him, that you weren’t afraid of him—or of the things he wanted to do to you if he ever got the chance.

And even after several months of officially dating you, he still stuck to his resolve, despite the unhealthy hunger growing inside him. He was adamant that you make the first move, even though the waiting was slowly killing him from the inside—his desires burning through his skin, desperate to see the light of your glossy eyes, to feel you squirming beneath him, and to hear your soft moans and whimpers, letting him know that you wanted him too.

He wanted you passionately. He didn’t desire anyone or anything else in his life. He had never thought of anyone else in such terms, which made the wait much more bearable, fun even. The occasional tension in the air only made things between you even more intriguing. Sylus wondered when the moment would come for you to finally let him explore you, taste you, just as he had wanted since the first time he held you in his arms.

He was a patient man. An inquisitive one, but patient nonetheless.

But it was just getting too much for him to handle lately.

He wondered if you were doing this on purpose. Were you trying to make him go feral with want, push him into some action? Maybe you were just too shy to ask for something more, and decided to coax him to take you right then and there? Was it an act? A part of your meticulous, sneaky plan?

He felt his sanity slowly dissipating.

“Sylus? Please, hurry up and help me, we have to go!” You turned your head to look at him, your lips puckered in an adorable pout, and your feet anxiously shifting from one to the other, the sound of your beautiful black heels clicking against the floor of your apartment. The red soles didn’t go unnoticed by him.

And what didn’t go unnoticed as well was how breathtakingly gorgeous you looked, dressed in your tight black gown that accentuated the figure he was obsessed with.

However, he was a strong man. He could look at you in a dress and not get an instant boner; he wasn’t some mere beast. But when you asked for his help, he realized that life hadn’t prepared him for everything you had up your sleeve.

Because right now, you stood before him, your back turned toward him, holding your hair in your hands and exposing a zipper that you wanted him to take care of. A zipper that ran from your neck down, down, down to your red lace panties, which peeked out from beneath the unzipped black material.

He turned his head upward at the sight, his hand reaching for the bridge of his nose, a silent prayer escaping his lips. If God existed, He was not merciful this time.

He could also clearly see that you weren’t wearing a bra, the soft skin of your back exposed, slightly hidden under the material of the dress. Hadn’t he suffered enough?

He wanted to bark. Badly.

Oh fuck, was he really going to bark?

He hoped not.

“Sy?” The nickname almost made his legs buckle. He needed a moment to calm himself after just one look at you, and it seemed to take him much longer than what would be considered natural. The impatience in your voice betrayed your desire not to be late for the opera performance, which he had promised to take you to today. He gulped audibly and realized that you had no idea what you were doing to him—and that scared him.

If you were this dangerous unintentionally, how will he survive when you’ll finally, consciously decide to take things further?

“Yes. Yes, of course, sweetie.” He managed to choke out and stepped closer to you, your delectable scent overwhelming his senses. He tried to hide the slight tremble in his hands as he reached for the zipper at the bottom of your dress. When he zipped you up, he took his sweet time caressing your body with his knuckles, basking in the soft feeling of your skin and the dangerous touch of the lace of your panties. He hoped you couldn’t hear his heartbeat—or see the pink in his cheeks. He couldn’t remember the last time he had blushed, but now he was sure of it, judging by the warmth on his face.

He was hopeless. Utterly ruined.

“There you go.” He said quietly, caressing your beautiful hair with his fingers, smoothing the creases which appeared after your hold. He brushed it from your neck and planted a slow kiss there, his movements far too composed for someone who was boiling with desire inside.

“Thank you. I couldn’t reach it at all and we’re already short on time.” You put your hand on his head, patting it gently and sighing when he touched your waist. He couldn’t help but squeeze you there, feeling the warmth of your skin through the soft material of your dress. You understood this gesture as teasing and giggled adorably.

“You look magnificent, my dove.” The compliment slipped through his lips, earning him your sweet smile and a kiss on a cheek. He watched as you passed him to grab your purse, going straight to the front door, leaving him behind. Trusting he’ll follow your step, as he always did.

Sylus closed his eyes and touched the very spot on his cheek where your lips had grazed, releasing a sigh that could be interpreted as both contentment and a silent prayer for endurance.

“You coming, Sy?” He could hear you calling for him, and he opened his eyes. His left one shone brightly at him from his reflection on the window. His Evol proved useless when his body already made it abundantly clear what—or whom—he desired the most.

“I fucking wish.” He whispered under his breath, turned around, and walked up to you, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as he reveled in the weight of your body pressing against him. His ears were graced by your little squeal, that quickly transformed into uncontrollable laughter, a sound he wanted to record and play every time you were away.

You slapped his back playfully and joked about wanting to use your legs once in a while, and he laughed, saying that he just wanted to make sure that he had all he needed with him. Then, he grabbed his coat with his Evol, and used it to slam the door after you both went out. He hoped that the lust he felt, which started to get out of his control, managed to stay behind them.

He waited for so long; how hard could it be to wait for another couple of months?

˙⟡⋆˚✿˖°⟡

Hard.

Tremendously hard, both theoretically and physically, given the reaction of his body upon the contact.

He shifted slightly so that you wouldn’t feel his growing bulge against your core, his hands hovered over your thighs, his cheeks flaming hot. He was about to fucking pass out.

But you were none the wiser, sitting on his body, strangling him with your soft, mouth-watering thighs, practically rubbing yourself against him, and performing your little dance of victory after pushing him to the ground during your sparring.

Normally, he would have laughed with you and treasured your moment of happiness, his senses overwhelmed by pride as he watched you get better and better at self-defense with every practice.

But that was just cruel.

Not only did you showed up in that little piece of fabric covering your breasts, something you dared to call a sports bra, its thin straps reminiscent of a fish net, offering NO support whatsoever for your charms, but you also dared to wear that pair of leggings you claimed you had bought with your friend during your last trip to the mall.

And they were leaving nothing for his imagination, your every curve hugged tightly, every dip deliciously emphasized. And fuck, you looked gorgeous in wine red. You knew you did.

“I got it in your color! Do you like it?” You asked upon entering his gym, twirling for him like the most adorable fucking thing he had ever had the pleasure of seeing, your arms up and your hair still untied. He did saw red, and it wasn’t just the color of your clothing.

His color. His girl in his color, he was going absolutely feral.

“I do.” He choked out, and tried to avert his eyes from your posture but lost that battle quickly. “You look stunning. My little gem.” He answered and you dared to look at him sheepishly, your face showing the signs of getting flustered.

“I’m not just a gem anymore. I’m a professional fighter.” You playfully punched his shoulder, jumping around and mimicking boxing moves, making him laugh out loud as he grabbed your fists in his hands. He pulled you closer to him and kissed your forehead, his arms wrapong around your frame.

“Is that an apology in advance?” You asked him when his lips left your skin. He smirked, his brow raising.

“Might be. Today we’ll be practicing attacks and knocking down your opponent.”

“Me? Knocking you down?” You looked at him with disbelief, your hands dropping to your sides, already defeated. “I’m doomed. Sylus, can’t I knock down Luke or Kieran instead?” Your cute pout and hands clasped in a begging gesture made him laugh again, as he fixed the bandages on your hands.

“And you think they would be easier to conquer?”

“Yes. Obviously, yes.”

“But they wouldn’t make sure you’re not going to hurt yourself, kitten, and I already know your patterns…” He leaned over you, his hot breath caressing your ear, making you shiver. His hands avoided touching your body. “And weak spots…” A whisper and a gentle bite on your earlobe were enough to send your adrenaline soaring.

“You—!” You jumped from him, like a little kitten, your face flustered and gaze filled with playful threat. “You’re going down mister. You’re SO going dooown.”

And down he went.

Right under your soft body, squashed between your warm tights, looking up at your beautiful lips twisted in an adorable, cunning smirk.

Oh, the way he loved you. The way he wanted to have you. The intensity of that feeling started to suffocate him.

“Okay, you got me, sweetie.” He choked out and tried his best to sound as nonchalant as possible. But nothing about this situation was nonchalant—your soft tights squeezing his waist and your butt pressing on his weak spot almost made him see stars. He grabbed your waist to try to stop your body from moving and gritted his teeth, fighting with himself to not buckle his hips up. “Now, up. I admit defeat.”

Defeat that had to do with the improvement of your skills and the force of your little fists, yes, but also with the way Sylus was distracted by your body, his eyes wandering everywhere during the battle, but not the places he should actually pay attention to.

Apparently, he was a weak, weak man, when the situation concerned you. Weak and impossibly horny.

“Hmm, I’m not sure if I want to.” You answered, a mischievous glint adored your gaze. He drank that expression in.

Beautiful. You were absolutely beautiful, sitting on him, your body sparkling with sweat, face red from the exhaustion. How could he keep his mind from going places? “I think I like you like this.” His eyebrows went up, and cheeks felt a little bit too warm for his liking.

What were you trying to say?

“Yes? Like what, kitten?” His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. He knew that you could feel it, one of your hands rested on top of it, stroking his chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin through his shirt. He shivered, his body covered in goosebumps, finding the gentle touch too intense, somehow.

“Towering over you.” His breath hitched, his heart almost stopped its beating. “It’s much easier to look at your face when I’m like this. It’s nice.” His heart squeezed instead, your confession turning out to be more touching than teasing, and he cursed himself internally for belittling your interactions and intimacy lately. His mind immediately assumed sexual undertones, where everything you were doing with him, at your own, unique pace should be more than enough for him.

“You like looking at me that much, huh?” He answered, his hand going up to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers. He smiled with content, and he put his hand at the nape of your neck, hoping you’ll understand the implications.

You did. Not a second later you lowered your body so that you were lying on top of him, one of his hands holding you to himself by your waist, pressing you even closer together. He acknowledged how much he loved your full weight on his body, your hearts pressed so close to each other they started beating as one.

You put your hands on his cheeks, smiled down at him, and pressed a small kiss to one of his eyelids, and then to the tip of his nose. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling.

“Of course. You’re my beautiful boy, Sylus.” You whispered to him, a smile adoring your face and he couldn’t help himself. He pulled you close by your neck and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, almost whimpering into your mouth from the intensity of his feelings.

You reciprocated the kiss, not hesitating even for a second, and soon, both of your lips were swollen and glistening, your minds filled with sparkles and cotton.

You were the one to break the kiss, your mind going dizzy, body trembling from the arousal. He could feel it without using his Evol—the desire that raised within you, the fire that now flowed through your veins. His eyes sparkled with anticipation.

One moment and you’ll go pliant against him, melting into his embrace.

One second, and he’ll finally taste heaven, be as close to you as anyone ever has been.

“Y/N, will it be alright if I—” He started speaking, your eyes looking at him from above as you held onto his cheek and neck, caressing his skin with your thumbs, making him feel oh, so cherished. Yet, he didn’t manage to finish the request because a sudden crash from the door opening pierced through the silent room, popping your comfortable bubble in an instant.

You jumped out of his embrace, leaving him cold and yearning, his hands sliding over his face in frustration.

“Boss—”

“Luke, Kieran it better be fucking important.” Sylus hissed through his teeth, and the fact that he didn’t even try to hide his frustration made you huff out a laugh and you quickly covered your mouth with your hand. You didn’t want to laugh at him so openly, hiding how adorable his anger towards boys seemed to you at that moment.

His eyes caught yours, lured by the bubbly sound, and one of the corners of his mouth went up slightly. He raised his hand to your covered mouth and brought your hand down with his fingers, revealing your smile.

“It is, Boss! The Girm Company chairman called and demanded a meeting in thirty minutes.” Luke said quickly, Kieran peeking out from behind his shoulder. “And he didn’t want to take “no” for an answer.” Kieran added, his body now revealed.

You were not sure if Sylus was even listening, his eyes glued to your face, his fingers tracing the line of your smile absentmindedly. He still didn’t raise from the floor of the ring, his posture relaxed, one arm now resting behind his head.

“That bastard.” He answered under his breath, and closed his eyes in annoyance for a second and when he opened them, they were once again glued to you. “If you don’t want me to leave just say a word.” He said, and put a strand of your hair behind your ear. The back of his hand started a slow caress of your cheek, and you felt embarrassed, knowing that the boys were still looking at you both, waiting for Sylus’s answer.

“It’s okay, Sy. I actually have some errands to run in Linkon so I better get going.” You answered, grabbing his hand and pressing a kiss to his fingers. His breath hitched, eyes following the movement with a longing deep in his chest. “Besides, I’m tired of beating your ass today. Save some dignity for the next time.” You added with a mischievous look, poking his hard chest with your finger teasingly.

The laugh that came out of his chest was sudden—loud, deep, and so sincere that it warmed your chest, your lips spreading in a proud smile. He grabbed your hand off of his chest and brought it to his lips, kissing your fingertips. The mirth in his eyes clearly visible, the affection bare and tangible.

“You are so generous, sweetie. Letting your pray off the hook so easily.” He couldn’t stop smiling even when he was raising to his feet, his hand going to massage his left shoulder. He looked at you and offered you his hand, which you immediately accepted. He helped you stand, his eyes tracing your every move, still unable to look away.

Your body entranced him, your presence lit a fire in his veins. The point where your hands touched warm and almost overwhelming. His desire for more once again proven unquenchable.

“Boys, let him know I’ll be there. It seems that I need to remind him who actually is in the position to make demands.” His voice was now authoritative, followed by the boys’ exclamations of “Will do, boss,” along with two salutes send his way.

And they were gone just as quickly as they had appeared.

“Don’t be too harsh on the chairman. I don’t want to get in the way of your business.” He saw you turn to him with a worried expression on your face, and he leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering on the spot for much longer than necessary.

“Hmm, I’m afraid that’s impossible.” He took your hand in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles, looking deep into your eyes. The sadness of you parting ways already blooming inside him. “They cut our time together short, so I’m planning on making them pay for that offense generously.” He smirked and watched you shake your head with disbelief, a small smile gracing your lips.

“I already miss you.” He heard you saying and you surprised him by throwing your arms around his neck, then kissing him almost senseless.

He closed his eyes and returned the kiss, which was starting to border on filthy. His hands grabbed your frame, pressing you closer to him, as his body bent toward you.

When you parted, your breaths were hot and heavy, a string of saliva still keeping your mouths connected. He stared at the filthy sight, his heart pounding in his chest, his boxers starting to become a rather tight fit. You placed a hand on his chest and pushed him away gently, your fingers trailing downward until they grazed his abdomen. He gulped audibly and remained still, watching you walk further and further away. He didn’t trust himself to move even an inch, afraid he wouldn’t be able to restrain himself anymore.

“Bye, Sylus. I’ll let you know when I get home safely.” You told him, walking away backwards now, your eyes not leaving his. “And we’ll continue what we started next time, okay, Boss?” The last part a whisper from your sweet lips, almost making him drop to his knees right then and there. You waved at him, shyness visible on your cheeks, and then you left him in the middle of the ring, stunned and filled with excruciating desire to finally have you.

Next time.

He groaned, his hands covering his blushing face, his mind already imagining the things he’ll do to you, only if you let him. God, he hoped that you’ll let him.

He did arrive late to the meeting that day, having to compose himself for much longer than you would have expected. He also made sure the chairman regretted keeping him away from you—your softness, your scent, an addictive drug he never wanted to be deprived of. The audacity to take that from him deserved nothing less than the highest of punishments.

He couldn’t help it, he already missed you.

˙⟡⋆˚✿˖°⟡

Sylus could write poems about his beloved, listing all her remarkable qualities and quirks; however, not once would he describe her as elegant and composed.

You usually were a tornado of various emotions, a temple of the things you cherished, your expressions lively and loud, honest and unrestrained.

You were also a bit clumsy—an occasional stumble, a bump to your limb now and then, or a broken glass wasn’t anything that Sylus hadn’t see you do before. He often worried about you and your safety, with new bruises appearing on your body from bumping into things or a piece of glass piercing through your delicate skin. Sometimes, he wished he could protect you from yourself too, but all he could do was press a kiss to every small injury you sustained from your hectic movements.

All bumps aside, he utterly adored that quality of yours. Every time he caught you acting awkwardly his chest seemed to shrink on itself, his heart squeezing, cute aggression overcoming his senses. You were just so adorable in those moments, the sight always reminding him of a little fawn, beautiful but uneasy on its feet. His craving to grab you and hold you in his arms, protecting you from the whole world, was strong; the urge to press a kiss to your forehead, then to kiss you senseless, even stronger. You were his little chaos: wonderful in your unexpectedness, extraordinary in every sense of the word.

Needless to say, he was used to your adorable clumsiness. He loved it.

That was probably why his brain stopped working when you proved to be everything but clumsy while playing the games at the local funfair. Your moves sure and precise, your gaze locked onto the targets, your body positioned exactly how it should be in order to gain the reward you wanted—whether it was a new plushie, a funky gadget or even some snacks.

And he had to say that this new, confident, borderline cocky behavior you were displaying was making him feel some things.

“Wait, let me try this time.” You said the first time he couldn’t score the prize, the claw mocking him relentlessly, wounding his pride.

You got that plushie in one, excellent attempt.

“Let me get that for you, Sy.” You proposed later, seeing him eyeing a figurine of a crow that reminded him of Mephisto. You were able to get not only that, but also a coupon for a food stall that served the best waffles you’ve ever eaten. As for Sylus, the sweetness of the treat paled in comparison to your blinding smile, with whipped cream still staining the corner of your mouth. He swiped it away with his thumb, then licked the digit, sending you a wink in the process.

He took pride in your blush, especially when making each other red that day started to feel like a competition between you two, whether you were aware of it or not.

“You want this one? Say no more, handsome.” Your words almost making him choke, your hands already grabbing the controls, your body bending over the machine, offering him a wonderful view of your ass. The tips of his ears immediately started to feel as if caught on fire. Even though he knew that you were teasing him, the pet name sounding foreign from your lips, he liked the feeling of you taking the initiative.

He also couldn’t stop his eyes from wandering, your body presented to him in a way that felt illegal to watch. He swiped his gaze up from the nape of your neck to your shoulders, taking note of your delicious-looking waist, perky butt, and thighs, which seemed lonely without his hands squeezing and kneading the soft flesh.

The cheerful sound of the machine made him snap back into reality, just as you were looking over your shoulder, sending him the most sexy, oh so sexy, proud smirk he ever saw in his life. He smirked right back, even though his legs felt disturbingly like jelly.

“I’m starting to think you enjoy this.” He remarked, grabbing the prize from your hands once again, the rest of your treasures already sitting comfortably in the back of his car. You send him a mischievous smile and fixed your hair, your fingers threading through the strands, the smell of your perfume reaching him once again during that night.

He wanted to devour you.

“And what’s wrong with that?” One of your hands grabbed his bicep, holding on to him as you started your lazy stroll in search of yet another entertainment. “You always get me things. And since I know now that you suck at these games, I have a perfect opportunity to return the favor.” He laughed at that, his hand moving to flick your forehead.

“I don’t suck at these games, all of them are tempered with, sweetie. I actually find it astonishing that you are so good at them.” His reply kind of soothing his wounded pride, his mind once again remembering your movements from before. The way you moved with confidence and grace, the little smirks and winks you send his way. His blood started to boil several stalls ago, and it hasn’t calmed since. “Makes one wonder about the extend of your abilities.”

The new, cocky, and self-confident side of you aroused him almost to the point of him grabbing you by the waist and taking you to his car, taking advantage of his tined widows.

“It all comes down to having a good strategy, as someone once taught me.” You said, repeating the words Sylus is always saying to you during your training, a mirth lacing your tone. How he adored you.

“Wise counseling you have here, kitten. You must have a fantastic teacher, if his lessons are proving to be useful anywhere you go.” The smile not leaving your face making him never want to look away.

“Oh, yes, he is. And an eye-candy too.” You touched his nose with the tip of your finger teasingly while he laughed. He stopped walking and turned to you fully, his arms closing around your waist, bringing you to him, close enough for your bodies to touch. The height difference always made him dizzy, with your head fully tilted upward in order to catch his gaze.

“Mm. Maybe that’s a quality he learned from you.” His tone quiet, one of his hands going to touch your cheek, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. You appeared stunned. “I cannot think of someone sweeter than you. If he’s a candy, you’re one delectable dessert.” He whispered, his eyes going from your eyes to your lips, their reddish tone reminding him of a little cherry. He was fighting with himself not to put his hands on your ass, and squeeze the flesh that you kept pushing his way from the very beginning of your date, or not to place a kiss on your smart little mouth, which kept sending him these playful smirks all day long. He knew that if he started here, he would not be able to stop. No one would be capable of separating him from you, public place be damned.

His desire boiling inside him, threatening to melt his vessels and pour from his body, enveloping you in a tight, pleasurable embrace. He felt feverish, your body pressed to his giving him all the warmth he ever needed, molding his thoughts to fit only your frame.

You were perfect in his eyes. Your body, the perfect shape for him to hold, your face the only one he wanted to remember. And the way he felt when he was with you—so immensely happy, so carefree, so right—was a feeling he had never even dreamed about having. Your banter, little jokes and witty comments made him so at ease he never wanted to stop talking to you, afraid of depriving himself of even a second of the comfort you brought him: the knowledge that he could speak his mind freely, for you understood him beyond the limitations of language. By your side, he could be himself, the thoughts in his head quiet, giving way to expressing himself in any way he wanted. His little taste of heaven: the time you spent together.

He loved you. So intensely it used to scare him, but now he was offering himself willingly, no longer afraid of rejection. Even though you both still didn’t acknowledge it out loud, the feeling lingered in the air between you — a delectable sweetness, a comforting fragrance.

He wanted you. Body and soul. Soul and body. He liked to think he already had your soul in grasp, your actions and openness served as a perfect proof of that, yet your body was still his to claim. And the fact that there was still a part of you he didn’t manage to possess, to thoroughly acknowledge, frustrated him inconceivably.

Especially because you had that strong of an effect on him. Everything you did capable of driving him perfectly insane. Oh, how you had him wrapped around your little finger, without being aware how completely obsessed he was with you.

“Is that so?” His gaze went from your hypnotizing eyes back to your lips, drinking in every single whisper. You stood on your tiptoes, the sight making his hands squeeze your waist tighter, his breath quickening, mind trying to process closer distance. “If he keeps sweet-talking me like this, then I guess he will finally get to taste it.” You grabbed his chin and tilted it down, pressing a soft, drawn-out kiss to his lips. His eyes closed immediately, desperate to heighten his senses. He wanted this kiss to last, both in the moment and later in his memory.

And just as he was about to wrap his arms around your back, pulling you closer, hiding your body from everyone else just to steal a few more kisses, you stepped back, the quiet sound of a smooch echoing between you. He bit his lip, almost drawing blood, restraining himself from chasing after your lips.

“C’mon now. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve that I need to show you.” You gripped his hand tighter and started to walk toward one of the booths. You sent him a smile over your shoulder, making his efforts to calm his racing heart futile. “And then maybe we can grab some cotton candy? All this talk about sweets made me crave some.”

“Anything for you, sweetie.” He answered absentmindedly, your taste still lingering on his lips. How were you always able to move on from the kisses so quickly? It would be the only thing he could think about in the next minutes.

“And what do you want?”

“Hmm?” The question shocked him, his eyebrows going up, his eyes intently observing your face.

“Do you have something you’d like to do while we’re here? I keep dragging you stall to stall ever since we came here.” You said while turning to fully face him, grabbing both of his hands. “I want you to have fun too.”

“I always have fun when I’m with you.” His response honest, his thumb caressing your knuckles. “You make life so interesting. And today you already managed to surprise me, so I would say that was more than enough entertainment for me in a day.” You rolled your eyes at him, a small smile on your lips, and looked at him with patience.

“But the day’s not over yet. Isn’t there anything you’d like to do? Look around.”

He lifted his head from your frame and began taking in the booths and various food stalls that had previously escaped his attention. He hummed, as he could feel you shifting on your feet, unable to contain your excitement.

That’s when he caught something interesting out of the corner of his eye—a couple emerging from a small booth, huge smiles plastered on their faces as they held small pieces of paper. A spark of excitement ignited inside him upon realizing what it was.

“There. I want to have a memento.” He said, his finger pointing to that innocent-looking booth. Almost impossible to spot in the abundance of lights and sounds coming from other attractions.

“Okay! I think I already won you a mountain of mementos but if—Ah!” Your eyes lit up when you realized what he was pointing to, your lips spreading in a cheerful smile. “A photo booth! Sylus, that’s wonderful!”

It wasn’t long before you were both inside the booth, the space cramped, almost too small for him to fit. He sat on the small stool, taking up nearly all the space, leaving you no choice but to sit on one of his legs. Your arms wrapped around his neck for stability, yet there wasn’t a hint of discomfort on your face.

He loved how natural it was for you to be this close to him, the proximity no longer making you nervous. He still remembered how you were at the beginning of your acquaintance, when even an eye contact was enough to make you to shy away. Now, touching him was as easy as breathing, your body relaxed and pliant under his wandering hands.

While you were clicking playfully on the screen, setting up the machine, he took his time observing you—mainly how your body looked next to his, which made him short-circuit, reminding him why he was still waiting for you to make the first move in initiating sexual intimacy. The reason he didn’t want to rush things, nervousness buried deep inside his chest.

You were sitting on his leg, your whole body weighting next to nothing, his one limb nearly twice as big as both of yours. Your soft flesh pressed to him didn’t even take up half of the place available on his leg, and when he put one of his hands on your back, the huge patch of your skin he was able to cover made him gulp audibly.

You were so tiny, next to him.

He was a huge man, and he knew that. Not just his height, but his overall build made even other men look small in comparison. While he usually considered it one of his greatest assets, a fantastic tool for intimidation, in this particular case, it planted a seed of worry in him.

It took some time for you not to shy away from his touch, not to flinch every time he leaned to you, his body covering whole line of your vision. And it took him even more time to learn how he should touch you and hold you, not to put too much force behind his caresses, not to make you bruise. And although the gentleness run in his bloodstream by now, he was still worried about the actual sex.

What if he scares you? His body completely covered your delicious curves without issue.

What if he overwhelms you? His stamina and eagerness matched his overall size.

What if he hurts you? The thought of your body unable to accommodate to his size made his blood run cold.

He looked at your body again, and he had to hold in a sigh. He loved your curves, the unbelievable softness of your skin, how warm you were. He felt his hunger increasing every day, every minute, every second he spend in your presence.

Yet he had to wait patiently, not wanting to scare you. He also knew that you were starting to get bolder with him day by day. He liked to think that it was just a matter of time until you will initiate something more, cover him with your soft embrace, let him melt in your warmth.

Because at the end of the day, his observations of your size difference not only filled his mind with fear, but also made his body tingle in all the right places. The arousal he felt knowing that he could manhandle you without any issue, cover your whole body entirely with his, shield you from the world and its coldness—all consuming. The only thing he could think about.

You were tiny in his embrace.

But he could make it work. He will make it work so good.

How could he hurt you when he was so certain that you were made to be his? Two halves of a perfect soul.

His hand slid down to hug your waist and he pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. It made you giggle, you thought that it was his way of showing impatience. And it was, in a way. Just not the kind of impatience you assumed it was.

“All set! I had some fun with the stickers, do you want to choose your own?” He looked at the screen and opened his mouth to deny, but one sticker did actually catch his attention. He clicked on the small dove and placed it in the bottom of the template, next to the various hearts you already decorated it with.

“That’s you. The resemblance is almost striking.” He said making you laugh and you picked a sticker of some kind of a black bird.

“And that’s you. They unfortunately don’t have a crow one so this little fella has to work.” You placed the sticker close to the dove one, satisfied with your work.

“I get the vision. When I’m squinting my eyes, I guess.”

You had four pictures taken, all accompanied by laughter and endless teasing. One where you kissed his cheek, one hand holding his jaw, his eyes closed and features relaxed. One where he pretended to bite your neck, your face caught in laughter. One where he rolled his eyes, reacting to your lame joke of getting rabies from his bite, as you placed your pointed fingers above his head, adoring him with imaginary horns, your mouth open in fake shock. And the last one, where you grabbed his face and kissed him, his gentle smile pressed against your mouth, a picture of joy that couldn’t be restrained.

“I might have went kind of overboard with the stickers.” You said when you got your two copies of the pictures, four perfect rectangles inside a scarlet border, adorned with hearts, flowers and stars. Two adorable birds were at the very bottom of it, just below the date. Sylus looked at the pictures, and his heart seemed to grow bigger, the wave of emotions making him unable to utter even a simple word. “But I think they’re cute regardless! It’s so nice to finally have a picture of us printed out. I’m definitely going to frame mine.” You said and took out your phone to take a picture of it.

His thumb gently caressed the piece of paper, words still stuck in his throat.

It was the very first picture of you two together, and when he looked at it, he couldn’t help but get emotional, knowing that he never expected to have someone like you in his life. Someone to cherish, to protect, to hold. Someone who reciprocated his feelings, someone who will never leave him, even if doomsday falls upon Linkon, even if the world crumbles.

“Are you okay, Sy? You’ve gone nonverbal again.” He felt your hand on his wrist, offering him a gentle squeeze. He finally looked at you, going out of the trace he was in, and saw your beautiful face laced with concern. He felt your hand going up and down his arm, caressing him in order to bring comfort.

“Did I?” He managed to choke out and hugged you to his chest, craving the closeness, not wanting you to see his slightly glistening eyes. He feared that the darkness of the night would not be enough to cover them, the lights from the fun fair only exaggerating his sudden surge of emotions. “They’re perfect. Thank you.” You hugged his torso tightly, your arms going up and down his back. You knew him well enough to realize he got emotional, but you were smart enough to let him savor his feelings in peace. If he was not comfortable showing you his tears, you had to understand it—the knowledge of how much it meant to him already warming your heart.

“Anything for you, Sylus.” You repeated the same thing he said to you earlier, and he picked you up, still hugging you to himself, his face finding coverage in the crook of your neck.

“Sly little thing.” He whispered and pressed a kiss there, drinking in the sound of your laugh and melting under the touch of your fingers, which stroked his hair affectionately.

Oh, how he couldn’t wait to finally be yours completely.

˙⟡⋆˚✿˖°⟡

Mesmerizing.

You, dancing in his room at two p.m to the new vinyl he bought, your hair down, arms up. Your eyes were closed and there was a small, relaxed smile playing on your lips, that seemed to grow bigger with each sway of your hips. You decided to wear the nightgown he got you some time ago, white lace caressing your body with a gentle flow of the shiny fabric.

He couldn’t breathe. All air sucked out of his lungs the moment he turned around and saw you swaying to the music he picked out. A surge of want so intense came over him that he was afraid to move even an inch—his body on fire, his mind filled with the visions of you, thoughts of you, and what you could be reduced to, enriched with under the touch of his hands.

If only he wasn’t a coward.

“Will you join me?” you said over your shoulder, opening your eyes slightly, and you must’ve seen something unusual in his eyes, because your movements slowed down and a furrow appeared between your brows. He wanted to kiss it off instantly. “Sy?”

You were so precious and delicate, a perfect opposite of his harsh exterior and even more barbaric interior. He waited so long, restrained himself for so much time, waiting for you to move first—now, standing before you, the thought that you wanted him this way too pierced a hole in his heart and filled it with fear.

“Forgive me. I cannot.” he answered, his voice coming out with a slight growl, that he couldn’t contain anymore. He inhaled deeply and gritted his teeth, hoping that he was at least successful in not making his eye glow, his Evol suddenly unstable. He didn’t want to know your desires, not when they were visible so clearly on your face now—openness and anticipation, ever since you went back from your date.

He hoped that shower would be able to calm you down, even though the warm and steady stream of the water didn’t manage to help him this time around.

He was loosing his composure and he was loosing it fast. Weeks of this insatiable hunger, unrelenting need and dripping tension did that to him. He knew he was fighting a loosing battle ever since he laid his eyes on you today, looking so cozy in your oversized sweater, filling the air around him with your intoxicating scent.

He was ready to devour you months ago, the build up straining his muscles now, making him restless. He was a goner—one wrong move and his previous patience and willingness for you to take the lead reducing to vapor.

“Why? We always dance together to your vinyls, especially the new ones.” Your movements faltered to a stop, your magnificent face turned to him, with an expression so honest it made his heart clench painfully.

He thought of all the times you danced under the moonlight, soft notes of his favorite music floating through the air, your bodies moving to the rhythm, sometimes gracefully, some other times not so much. The feelings overwhelmed him even more drastically, his eyes closing for a moment.

It was enough time for you to close the distance, and soon he felt your cold hand pressing against his cheek, swiping the flesh with your thumb. He squeezed his eyelids shut tighter, the touch making his soul burn. You took his head in both of your hands, lowering it to face you.

“Sylus, talk to me.” you said, tone worried. He could feel you standing on your tiptoes, wanting to bring your face closer to his. His body almost shaking with the need to hold you. “You’re acting very unusual today. Is something wrong?” He exhaled the air he didn’t know he was holding and opened his eyes. Your face was so close that he could see the shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks. He could feel your breath, warm and inviting.

“I can’t touch you now,” he managed to utter, his hands at his sides, struck in cruel stillness. He locked his eyes with yours, filled with worry and a comforting gentleness. You were always so gentle with him, it made him go insane. “Because if I do, I won’t be able to hold back anymore.”

He saw the realization in the shift of your features as you fully grasped the meaning of his words. To his surprise, you took one of his hands in yours, and placed it on your cleavage, right over your beating heart, the rhythm beneath his palm fast but steady.

“Then don’t. Why would you even want to hold back with me?” You answered, slightly breathless, a pleasurable tingling already setting deeply in your abdomen. You looked at his face, the redness of his cheeks nearly matching the color of his eyes, the look he gave you so desperate it turned your legs to cotton.

The sudden burst of happiness in your chest almost made you tremble, you had waited so long for him to finally claim you as his, and it seemed he had finally reached his limit.

“I don’t—” He stumbled upon his words, a reaction so different from his usual self-confident demeanor it made you crave to uncover more versions of him. All versions of him, every single one he was willing to show you. “I can’t help but fear that I will hurt you. You are so soft, so breakable, it makes me nervous. Aren’t you scared of me? Of—Of what I could do, to you?” The confession slipping out of him, and he grabbed your wrist in one hand, the other coming to rest on your back. He slowly brought you to him, pressing your bodies together. He heard your breath falter, and drank that sound in. Then don’t — you had no idea what a hurricane you managed to stir inside him with just two simple words.

“Sy. My sweet, caring gentleman.” He heard your answer, and felt your fingers caressing his under eyes gently, your eyes never leaving his. One of your fingers touched the wrinkle between his brows, smoothing the furrowed surface. “You could never hurt me, even if you wanted to. You’re so fixated on the knowledge what you can do, that you’re forgetting that you’ve never even touched me hard enough to leave a bruise. No matter how much I wanted you to, sometimes.”

“You—”

“I’m not scared of you, Sylus. I could never, and I will never be scared of you. You’re the one with whom I feel the safest.” His hands started trembling, his patience thinning with every beautiful word from your lips. You were telling him things he didn’t even know how desperately he wanted to hear. “And I want you. I want to finally feel you, all your roughness and sharp edges. I want all of it.” The sound of your breathing mingled with the soft tunes of the vinyl. The air thick with want.

Any second now, he could feel it in the shiver down his spine.

“And I want it now.”

Snap.

His resolve shattered as he pulled you into him, capturing your lips in a kiss so deep and desperate it left your legs trembling. He kissed you with raw intensity, his tongue exploring your mouth, drinking in every sound you made as his hands roamed your body, claiming every inch he could reach.

You felt him everywhere. Your thighs, hips, waist, your neck, hair and breasts—he seemed to touch everything he was depriving himself of before. His hands huge, and although slightly rushed and trembling, still surprisingly gentle.

He lift you up, your legs straining his waist and he laid you down on his bed, not breaking the kiss for even a second, your breath his breath, your lips water to quench his thirst.

His head was spinning, and when he finally opened his eyes the sight before him alone made him lose his mind.

You were sprawled under him, your hair a wild mess, your lips swollen from the abundance of his kisses. Your eyes glistened, the look in them so full of trust and love, love so visible it nearly broke him in half.

“You’re exquisite. Irresistible. Ethereal.” The praises slipped out of his tongue before he could stop them. The last bit of control fleeting with the touch of your impatient fingers, unbuttoning his shirt, taking it off of him in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t even find it in himself to tease you for your impatience, not when his brain already turned into mush after touching your bare skin. “You look as if you’re coated in frosting. My sweet girl, my most delectable little sin.” His eyes focused on your white dress, his hands not brave enough to let it slip off of you yet. He already feared the man he would become upon seeing you fully bared before him.

“Sylus—”

“It’s unholy. How much I want you.” His lips traced a path from beneath your ear down to your neck, finding their place on your collarbones. “How much I need you. The greed unexplainable, insatiable no matter how close I get to you. It’s not enough. It will never be enough.” His eyes met yours in a silent question and you nodded quickly in permission, gulping audibly, your eyes drooping. He let his hands travel up your legs, grazing your inner thighs, swiping through your hips, his palms tracing the lace of your panties, making the hair on his body raise. He then swiped through your waist and finally, finally his hands rested on your breasts, where you wanted them from the very beginning.

His breath hitched as he looked down your body, noticing how his touch had already lifted the fabric of your dress, baring your legs and stomach. His body shielded you from the chill in the air.

He squeezed your breasts gently, fondling them in his hands, a low groan escaping his lips—the same ones which couldn’t resist kissing your belly, anywhere he could reach, not even thinking about stopping his sensual kneading. It baffled him, how soft you were, how pliant under his touch. His hands, although taking so much of the space on your body didn’t seem to make you nervous at all—every single one of his touches you accepted with soft sights, low whines and a bitten lip. You trusted him, and he was drunk on that trust, wanted more, needed to see how far it could take him.

It quickly appeared that there was no limit to the things he could do to you, your whispers not only appreciative, but also encouraging. The uncontrollable thrusts of his hips against the duvet bordered on painful, the knowledge that he would have you in mere minutes making him unbearably hard. But he accepted the friction, your comfort mattered to him the most, and he wanted to take care of you properly.

“Sylus. Sylus, more, please.” He heard your silent plea, and caught your eyes in his, and that’s when he decided it was a time for you to drop the dress. He helped you out of it then licked the goosebumps forming between your breasts, each tiny dot on your skin making him awfully aware that this was it. Your beautiful form, completely bare, just for him to see, to worship.

“My little gem.” He breathed out, his eyes drinking in your body, committing to his memory every dip and curve. “My treasure.” He nearly growled, his mouth attached to your breast, licking and sucking on your nipple, moaning in the process. He wanted to devour you whole, to not leave a patch of skin untouched by his mouth. He thrived in the way you took hold of his head, your hands messing up his hair, caressing it when his tongue worshipped your breasts and nipples, drowning in their softness. He found his safe place.

“Oh God I—I feel like I’m floating, please don’t stop.” He heard you breathe out, your chest heaving, your legs closing in an attempt to relieve the tension building inside you. “You’re so good. So, so, so good, Sy.” He released one of your nipples with a pop, and stored the visual of your skin glistening with his saliva for later. He basked in your praise and pushed himself down, knowing exactly what he wanted to do next.

“Yes? You want it, kitten? Say you do. Please. I need you to say it.” His voice groggy, laced with yearning so tangible it made your body shiver.

“Yes. Yes, I do. Please, Sy. I waited so long for you.” Your words made his head spin, a smile spreading on his lips not flirtatious at all, just pure joy and contentment. He kissed your stomach and his hands once again swiped through your whole body. He raised on his forearms and caged your head between his arms, and then pressed a long, deep kiss on your mouth which quickly turned into another wave of heavy kisses. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

He was ravenous.

“I need to prepare you first, sweetie.” He said to your mouth, his words immediately swallowed by your perfect lips. You whimpered and his grip on your arm tightened involuntarily, his hand playing with your hair. “I need to take my time with you, otherwise I won’t be able to fit. You’re so tiny it scares me.” You nodded into the kiss and he smiled at you gently, and after pressing a kiss to your forehead, he went down.

And when he finally widened your legs, his mouth was on you instantly, making you moan, your legs clasping on his head reflexively. He grunted into your core, licking and sucking skillfully, guided entirely by pure need and his own instincts.

“You taste so sweet.” It wasn’t long before your legs were trembling and his fingers joined his mouth in an attempt to open you up a little more, to prepare you for what’s to come. “You’re dripping because of me.” He chuckled softly but deeply, chest filled with pride, and he licked your core once again, sucking at the sensitive bud. What he didn’t expect was when he managed to fit one figer inside you, angling it upwards, your back suddenly raised from the bed, hands reaching to his chest, delicately pushing him away. A drowned out cry escaped your lips, the wetness between your tights increased, your plushy walls fluttered around his finger.

He made you come, and he instantly got addicted to it.

“Yes. Yes. Just like that, beautiful—Fuck.” With a swear word on his lips he wasted no time in slurping up your spent, his fingers from one, going up to two, then three. And when the only thing he could hear were your moans and whimpers, the taste of you imprinted on his tongue, the slide of his fingers smooth and slick—he realized that you were ready for him.

He slowly withdrew from your pussy, pressing one last lingering kiss to your clit. As his fingers slipped out of you, he finally let himself to catch more than a glimpse of your face.

And it shattered him, how utterly ruined you looked. All flushed and heaving, skin glistening with sweat, eyes shining, filled with unshed tears.

He did that to you, and he couldn’t be more proud of himself. He licked his fingers clean, savoring your taste, then he pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around your whole body. Your head dropped on his bicep, your breath labored.

“You okay, kitten?” He asked gently, ignoring his painful erection, still stranded in the stiff fabric of his pants. His head pressed to your neck, and he inhaled the scent, licking off the droplets of sweat in the process. He couldn’t get enough.

“Yes. More than okay.” You answered, and he felt your hand wandering, trying to unbuckle his belt. His chest squeezed. “Need you now. Please, Sylus…”

“You don’t have to beg. I’ll gladly give you my everything. All of me.” His hands left your body for a moment, swiftly taking off his pants, his mouth now kissing your cheeks and nose.

“I want to taste you, too.” You whispered to him shyly, and he grunted, closing his eyes, begging every deity to give him more patience. How he would love for your little mouth to envelop him, but he knew that the sight alone would be enough to make him undone.

“Next time, okay, sweetie? I cannot wait to be inside you.” You giggled and nodded, pressing a kiss to his nose, stroking his hair gently.

He shivered and hissed when he took off his underwear, letting himself out in the open. He was so hard it hurt, his hand going up and down his erection in an attempt to reduce the tension, even though he knew that the only one who could truly satisfy him was you.

“Oh my god.” He heard your gasp, and noticed that you were looking at him, his body fully exposed, his cock heavy in his hand. “Sylus— Sy, it won’t fit. There’s no way that—” He silenced you with a kiss, and swiped his hand through your core, gathering the slick and spreading it on his member. The smooth glide felt so good he lost himself in the feeling for a second, his tongue licking into your mouth, swallowing your gasps.

“Shhh, I made sure to prepare you as well as I could. And I won’t hurt you, you said so yourself.” He said the last sentence into your lips, once again pressing a long kiss there. Then he kissed your cheek, and breathed hard against your neck, his one hand wrapped around your waist, holding you closer to him, and the other stroked his cock, guiding it to your entrance. When the tip touched you, he gritted his teeth and you gasped, the first contact electric. Your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers playing nervously with the hair at his nape.

He breathed heavily, the tip of his cock aligned perfectly with your entrance. “You can take it, you were made for me. I will make it fit.” He let go of your waist and grabbed one of your hands in his, kissing your knuckles and smiling gently at you, the anticipation making his body shake. “Just relax for me, will you? Can you do that, kitten?” You nodded and exhaled slowly, some tension getting out of your body. He pressed one last kiss to your forehead and intertwined your fingers with his.

“Close your eyes. I want you to feel me.”

“No. I need to see you, Sy. Don’t make me look away.” He chuckled and pressed his forehead against yours in a silent acceptance. He never wanted to take his eyes away from you too, your desires matching perfectly.

You were his soulmate, after all.

He pressed his erection to your opening and started to slip in, gently, unhurriedly, despite the desire to take you in one thrust of his hips. You opened your mouth in a painful moan, squeezing his hand, panic visible in your eyes. He hated that he was bringing you pain, but knew that it was inevitable, he saw how wide he was stretching you out. “It���s okay, sweetheart. Easy. You’re doing so good…” He breathed out, his hand leaving his cock to hold your hip, the other going up and down your body in a comforting caress. “Taking me so well...” His voice hoarse, sweat dripping from his forehead from the strain of keeping himself under control. He managed to put the tip in, your pussy squeezing him, your heat making him shiver, the sensation the most pleasurable he ever felt. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to calm himself down.

“It hurts, it really—it really hurts.” You whispered and he grunted, feeling you squeeze him harder, his length sliding into you deeper. He opened his eyes and lowered his body to get closer to your face, and placed a kiss between your eyebrows.

“I know, love. If you want to me stop—” He couldn’t recognize his voice anymore.

“No. Never. Please.” You kissed his brow, and send him a small smile. “I—I can take it. I was made for you, yeah?”

He huffed out a laugh, a whimper finding a way out at the same time.

“You were. Mmhm. Good.” He slipped in further, his mouth opening wider. “Good girl. Just a little more.” And before he managed to stop the shivering of his body, he burrowed himself in your tight heat almost to the brim. You were not able to take all of him in yet, but it was nearly a perfect fit, the sight of you wrapped around him made him see red, a low moan slipping out of him, your whimpers the most magnificent tune he ever heard.

“I’m going to move now.” He said and you moaned, your head nodding frantically.

He started thrusting inside you, and he felt as if fireworks exploded inside him, the desire burning brightly, need finally calming down, his mind completely at ease. Your moans, whimpers, cute little “ah,ah,ah’s” making his whole body shiver, a smile finding its way onto his swollen lips. You felt so good below him, your warmth enveloping him fully, and he started to question if he truly was worthy of such a blessing.

He didn’t care anymore. He had you, you wanted him and that was all that mattered now.

“You’re so. fucking. tight. God.” He started moving faster to the accompaniment of your small encouragements, his hand holding onto yours. And when your legs wrapped around his hips, bringing him closer to you, he was gone.

He grabbed your waist and lifted up your butt, the pace and force of his thrusts intensifying, his grunts leaving his mouth freely, silent praises slipping from his lips every now and then. He couldn’t stop now. Didn’t want to stop.

“I want—I want to stay inside you forever. I feel—Ah—Mm—like I’m melting.” He moaned and you felt his mouth on your body, kissing every patch of skin he was able to reach. You kept breathing out soft, quiet moans, tears filling your vision. “So cute.”

You felt so good, the stretch now pleasurable, your body accepting him fully, every thrust welcome, each one anticipated.

And he could see that so clearly on your face, his mind calming, knowing that he was able to bring you pleasure. It made him feel better too, your lovely expressions making his blood pump faster, his hips thrust deeper, just to see and hear more tokens of your delight. He was addicted to you and your reactions, to the way you sang his name, the way your skin tasted and eyes glistened every time he managed to catch eye contact.

Time quickly went by when you were loosing yourselves in each other. The positions changed constantly, Sylus looking for and finding new ways to tip you over the edge, making sure you were completely satisfied. You encouraged him to leave some marks on you, and you made sure to repay the sentiment, scratching his back with your nails, and pressing hickies on his chest—he already wished for the marks to stay there forever, and you assured him that you’ll stay instead, making him jump on you once again, burying his head in your shoulder.

“Say my name, kitten. Keep—Keep saying my name.” He grunted, his hips unrelenting, your bodies soaked, your own so tired that he had to hold it in his arm for you to not slip off the bed. He kept thrusting inside you from behind, his lips pressing gentle kisses on your neck and shoulder, his movements deep and sensual, pleasure overwhelming. You granted his wish, your voice hoarse and quiet.

You were going at it for hours now, yet he still hasn’t come.

Not because he couldn’t, but because every time he was close, he was slipping out of you, his eyes squeezing shut, a hand gripping himself at the base.

He didn’t want the night to end, refused to let you go, savored the feeling of being buried deep inside you, not knowing where you ended and he began.

“Sy—Mmm—Sylus—Ah.” The words failed you, your mind filled only with pleasure and thoughts of him. You were so tired and yet he made you feel so good you wanted to stay in his arms forever. “The—Ah—The sun is rising.”

He nuzzled into your cheek, his thrusts slowing down, quiet grunts leaving his lips. He sounded wrecked.

“I know, love. You look so wonderful in this light.” He kissed your cheek and glued himself off of you, leaving your body cold and shivering. In the next second, he manhandled you onto your back again, facing him. Your hands immediately flew to cover your face, fearing how completely ruined you must have looked after so much time making love and so many orgasms ripped out of you.

“No—Mmh—Don’t hide yourself from me.” He grunted, and took your hands in his gently, revealing the beautiful mess he managed to make of you. Your face covered in tears, cheeks flushed and lips so swollen it only made him want to kiss them some more. So he did. “Never hide yourself from me, dove. Hold me.” He kissed the palms of your hands and put them on his neck, your arms going to hold him closer. He huffed out a weak laugh, his thrusts not stopping even for a second. You felt his huge hands caressing your thighs and you moaned softly. “God, I’m sorry, kitten, I just can’t stop—I—”

“It’s okay, S—Sylus. Ah—I won’t run away.” You pulled his head closer and kissed his lips softly. His hands encircled your waist, drawing your body closer to him, the hair on his forehead brushing against your chest. Your eyes met his and he seemed to calm slightly, your gaze soothing the flame inside him.

“I love you. I—” You suddenly confessed, a single tear slipping down your cheek. His breath faltered, ruby eyes widening, your words shaking his world completely. “I love you, Sylus. So much. I love you so intensely it scares me, I—Ah—” A moan was ripped from you when he suddenly picked up the pace, the sweat from his forehead landing between your breasts. Another happy tear slipped from your eye, and if you had enough energy to keep your eyes open, you’d see that he was teary-eyed too. His hands grabbed your head, turning it up so he could look straight into your eyes—his own burning with desire and unspoken devotion. He needed to hear you say the words once more, but before he could start pleading for it, you managed to read his mind.

“I love you, Sylus.”

And those words were what finally made him shatter.

He came, so violently he nearly blacked out, his whole body trembling, and movements faltering, his cock buried inside you the deepest he could go. He released grunt after grunt, his arms holding you tight to him, your soft sighs only seemed to prolong his fall. He nuzzled his face up against your neck, then cheek, his lips touching your skin, unable to press more kisses due to the uncontrollable moans coming out of his mouth.

“F-Fuck—” He managed to choke out and you tried to calm your heavy breathing, focused on his cum filling you up, so much that you could already feel it spilling out. You whined and brought your hands to his waist, holding him close, and you came one last time too, your pussy squeezing him even tighter, ripping a short cry out of him. Goosebumps spread around your body from the pleasure and you went pliant in his arms, letting your sore muscles finally rest against the soft sheets.

Sylus relaxed a few moments later, his sweaty body collapsing on top of you, mindful not to put his full weight on you. His hot, heavy breath still warmed your neck, your hearts beating rapidly against each other, showing no signs of calming anytime soon. He managed to turn onto his side, his arms still wrapped around you, taking your body with him.

You were held in a wet, yet warm embrace, his arms protecting you from the cold morning air, your bodies still connected. The silence that ascended upon you comfortable and desired after so much time of intense workout—both throats roughed up and in need of hydration.

“Sylus, I—” You started saying, your voice a rough whisper, your head raising to meet his gaze, surprised that his crimson eyes were already studying you. He put one of his hands on the back of your head, his fingers playing with your hair ever so gently.

His gaze so intense you started to turn your head away, but he gently brought it back to him. He didn’t have to open his mouth for you to understand what he was feeling—the emotion in his eyes unmistakable.

“I love you, too.” He breathed out, his hand going up to your cheek, stroking it with the back of his fingers. His hand was cold and served as a delightful compress for your burning face. “I love you more than any words could ever express.”

He reminded you of a statue under this warm, morning light, his body perfectly sculpted. The only source of color were his cheeks, blaring red, nearly matching the color of his sparkling eyes. His wet hair still bearing the paths carved by your fingers, his lips kissed and twitching, fighting off a smile, which threatened to form when he realized how intensely you were observing him.

“My home is your home, my heart is your heart. Every breath I’ve been taking ever since I met you had already been yours — the day you tell me to cease, I will gladly do so.” He continued, his breath slowly calming down, one of your hands going to stroke his chest.

“I will never tell you to cease, you little dramatic fool.” You answered playfully, blinking away your tears, your hand going to rest on his warm cheek, his face immediately nuzzling into your palm. “If anything, I would curse you to live forever. Soundly and happily, by my side.” A soft laugh came out of his lips; a start of a smile that overtook his entire face, lightening up his features, showing off his small sharp canines.

“By your side...” He repeated, his voice possessing a dream-like quality, a smirk still visible. He swiped his hand over your body: from your shoulder, through your waist, down to your hip, and then back up. His touch soothing as always. “A curse has never sounded so sweet, my little dove.” He closed his eyes, and a sigh escaped his lips. The happiness spread through his body so intensely, that he thought he was going to burst.

Live forever, by your side. There was no other place in the entire universe where he would rather be.

He felt you squirming, a crease appearing between your brows, your hand squeezing his bicep. He hissed, feeling you squeeze him down there too, his cock still buried deep inside you, your plush walls a place he never wanted to leave. However, he knew that after so much time and so many orgasms you needed a break, your body sensitive and in need of extensive pampering. Good thing he adored spoiling you with affection.

“I’m going to pull out now, okay sweetheart?” You nodded your head, a small smile on your lips. You were just too adorable. “And then I’ll put you in a warm bath, order your favorite meal and change the sheets. Any objections?”

“None at all.” He switched your position so that he was once again on top of you, and he gently pulled out, a grunt leaving his lips at the loss of the comfortable fit. You whimpered when his cum started flowing out of you freely, and he couldn’t look away, the sight making the desire in him burn once more. He stopped himself before he started showing the cum back inside you. “Will you join me in the bath too?” He looked at your face, covered in the warm sunlight, the sight making him breathless.

“I would love to, if that’s what you want.” He hugged you to himself one more time, his body covering yours completely, his face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. He grazed the delicate skin with his teeth, then pressed his lips to your pulse, his tongue picking out to lick at your salty skin. “I love you.” He whispered into your neck, basking in the feeling of your heartbeat beneath his lips. “I love you, Y/N. Thank you for showing me what love feels like. Thank you for accepting me.” His breath started going out labored, the intensity of the emotion too big for his body.

“Thank you, for letting me love you. You are the best thing that happened to me, Sylus. I hope you know that.” Your kiss to his temple and your hands caressing his back felt like a blessing, your bodies connected in a soul-crushing hug his own private oasis. Never in his life had he experienced such a moment of total tranquility; only you were capable of bringing him peace.

He never wanted to let you go, and he didn’t have to. No other thought filled him with so much joy. You were his, just as much as he was yours. An ideal exchange of souls.

“I do.” He breathed out, and looked into your loving eyes once again. You smiled at him, and he felt his breath being punched out of him, his ruby eyes fluttering. He shook his head and reciprocated the smile, which quickly turned into a full laugh, your bodies shaking, hearts beating in unison. “I truly do.”

Your lips found his in a kiss that tasted like a promise—of a hand to hold, body to warm up to, and a heart that beat for one another. In every life, every universe, and in every space and time—now, and forevermore.

˙⟡⋆˚✿˖°⟡ bonus! ˙⟡⋆˚✿˖°⟡

“So which one finally did it?” You asked him nonchalantly, when you were both freshly washed up, lying on the new, pleasurably chilly sheets, basking in the afternoon sunlight. Too exhausted to raise, too happy to fall asleep after the whole night of making love.

His head on your chest stirred slightly, a confusion slowly overtaking his features.

“Hmm?” He opened his eyes, but he didn’t find it in himself to raise. His arms holding your body close to his, tightening their hold, a signal he hoped would make you continue the caress of his back with your fingers.

Your skin bared a fragrance of his soap and his skin, and he felt drunk ever since he noticed it.

“The workout outfit a size too small? Or those jeans at the funfair?” You continued, and his mind started to connect the dots. His eyes widened. “I knew that I would be sticking my ass out a lot that day so I made sure they were extra tight.” He heard you giggle and raised his head immediately, his gaze falling on yours.

“You—”

“What? You were making me wait forever! And don’t get me wrong…” You cupped his cheek, and he was rendered speechless. The whole time he was fighting for his sanity, trying to wait for you, restraining himself from taking you on the nearest piece of furniture — You were riling him up on purpose? “I love that you are a gentleman, and the princess treatment is really nice too, but I just couldn’t wait to have you ravish me, you know? Your girl has needs.”

He was going completely insane. He let out a hearty laugh, and shook his head in disbelief. It seemed that he underestimated you again, forgot that your desires and needs matched his almost perfectly.

And he should’ve known that the workout clothes were a bit too revealing for your liking. Fuck, he should’ve known.

“And it seems my girl is a sly little vixen.” His voice laced with humor, a smile still visible, head impossibly light. He hummed, and kissed a smile off of your plump lips, then your neck, shoulders and chest. You started trembling, and the smile he send you this time made him look as if he was a wolf studying his pray. You gulped audibly. “Well then, if you decided to manipulate me, then I think you are ready to suffer the consequences.” His kisses reached your breasts, and he took one perky nipple into his mouth, sucking passionately. His other hand grabbed at the other boob, kneading the flesh languidly.

“But it’s already bright outside, shouldn’t we—” A press of his finger on your lips hushed you, and his eyes met yours, his lips still circled around your delicate nipple. With a snap of his fingers the curtains covered the windows, cutting of the only source of light. Darkness enveloped you, making the press of his body on yours even more intimate. Your body was still on fire after the hours of tangling in sheets, every part of you sensitive and tingling under his skilled hands.

“Ah, ah. You’re trembling. Why is that, I wonder?” You heard his voice closer to your ear, and when your eyes got used to the darkness, you saw his eyes filled with mirth and something primal. His hands went slowly up your tights, their destination obvious. “I had no idea that my kitten was that starved. Now I can’t possibly leave her unsatisfied, can I?”

You felt his hands touch your warmest spot, and you let fireworks overtake you once more, your spine twisting to get closer to him. He tasted the skin on your chest again, and went down with his kisses, leaving a happy, wet trial in its wake. He raised suddenly, kissing you on the lips.

“And what about the zipper?” He asked absentmindedly into your lips, remembering the situation that nearly made him lose his mind couple of weeks ago.

“What zipper?” Your confusion truthful, your squeal loud when he suddenly plopped motionless on top of you, a sigh of exasperation leaving his mouth.

It seems that loving you was the beginning of his end, after all.

˙⟡⋆˚✿˖°⟡

thank you for your time! ♡ PLEASE let me know if you liked it, i would appreciate every single comment and engagement!!! i would be so happy to read your reactions (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

likes would be much appreciated ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[cutiefulism]

puppyboy!caleb who just wants to fuck a litter into u :((

cw — breeding (dadoy), use of gege, typical caleb activities except hes a germand shepard, pet names (baby, honey, wife but theyre not married). fluffy prequel here.

he thinks you should have known. all the signs were right there, practically jingling in your face.

“did you— mm . . really think i’d invite you over for somethin’ as harmless as a common cold?”

he knows you won’t respond verbally. can’t respond, he thinks, not when his hips are slamming against your juicy ass, cock filling you up to the brim after his fingers and mouth worked so hard to stretch you out.

and even that hadn’t been enough. he still had to go reaaaal slow, ease it into that filthy, drooling hole, and by then he was just so impatient that he couldn’t wait any longer! :p

caleb will be gentle next time, he promises.

saliva and tears dribble down your chin, rolling down your chest and onto his sheets, and he wishes he could lean forward to lap it all up with his tongue. instead, he nuzzles into the side of your tainted neck, pressing little loving pecks against reddened skin as if to make up for the brutal way he’s splitting you open.

“y-yer just so gullible, baby. always takin’ your gege’s word for fact.”

you attempt to shake your head, a few, rare pieces of coherent thought stringing together enough to actually speak. “ungh, ngh! n-no, ‘m not . . not dumb.”

look at you. stubborn as always, ready to defend yourself and your beliefs at a moment’s notice. it’s cute.

“of course you aren’t,” caleb coos with a breathy chuckle, and he takes your soft, warm skin into his mouth, sucking another bruise to join the others. “never said you were. you’re a smart girl. my smart girl, and that’s exactly why i have to breed you.”

he feels the way your velvety walls clamp down on his aching cock at his words, and he grins. he knows all of your little weak protests earlier were fake.

all those “but, caleb, i don’t think it’s a good idea, we’re not even married” and “i’m just not ready yet” and “we’re both so busy, how will we have time for the baby?”

that was all bullshit.

you want this. you know you do, and caleb definitely knows you do.

you’re just in denial. but don’t worry — he’ll fuck that out of you.

“it’s o-only right to— shit–” plap “spread my wife’s beauty and smarts–” plap “to the rest of the world, right?”

caleb slams forward, hips stilling for a moment as he whimpers against your bitten-up neck, and a desperate mewl leaves your own lips as the impact lunges you forward.

his weeping tip is smooching your cervix, ready to pump a load into your temporarily empty womb.

“say . . say you want it.”

you blink, brows drawing together as you try to focus through the drunken haze. “w-wha?”

“say you want my cum, say you wanna be a mommy f’me,” he groans, and despite the low roughness of his voice, you can hear that almost pathetic pleading underneath.

and how could you deny caleb like this?

your head bobs, throat dry. “i wan’ it. please, caleb. fill . . fill me up.”

that’s all he needs.

caleb’s thick tail gives a happy thump against the sheets as his hips start up again, this pace much more demanding than the previous. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’d be trying to fuck you into the mattress.

“thaaaat’s it,” he sighs, and all you can do is squeal as the bed creaks and rocks beneath you. “lemme stuff this pretty pussy full, honey.”

“i’ll . . f-fuck, ngh— give you as many pups as ya want. a whole . . a whole fucking football team—!” his words break off into a whine when you clamp down on him again, and he already knows what’s going to happen before you even try to say it.

this time, you really can’t speak. all you can do is moan and attempt silly, broken cries of his name, pleasure coiling to a fever pitch in your gut.

he knows you better than you know yourself, after all.

“mmf, a-ah, ‘m cumming— c-caleb!”

his name sounds so beautiful on your lips, like a siren’s call to his heavy, tightening balls and twitching dick.

within seconds of you gushing all over his cock, squirt spraying all over that dark, almost curly patch of pubic hair, his hips are stuttering, pretty violet eyes rolling back as he mumbles your name again and again like a damn prayer.

caleb dumps thick ropes of gooey seed into your warm, waiting womb and, oh, it is so much. much more than you expected, and it feels . . good.

a small bulge appears on your tummy where caleb has stuffed you to your limit, and you’re sure it’s going to leak out, make an even bigger mess all over your sheets.

the knot at the base of his girth swells, trapping his cum inside, and even if caleb had the traitorous thought of pulling out of you, he couldn’t.

even his basic biology knows that a single drop can’t and won’t go to waste.

he whines, hot, damp breath ghosting across your skin as he shoves his face into your neck again, that feral need mostly disappearing. you can feel his chest heaving in time with your own against your back, fluffy ears twitching.

“i’ll make up to you for rounds four and five, how about that?”

“l-let’s take a small break, okay? ‘m sorry for bein’ so rough on you, baby,” he mumbles, and your heart gives a helpless flutter at the genuine guilt in his tone.

you’ve never quite gotten used to his flips in personality.

doing gradients is actually hell on earth wtf

[okwonyo]

CUFFING SEASON 𓂃 gymrat!enhypen 𓈒

𝗜𝗦𝗣𝗜𝗥𝗔𝗭𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗘 ✶ ────── 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖼𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖻𝗈𝗒. 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝖺 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖻𝗈𝗒.

엔하이픈 & fem!rea 14OO fluff established relationship cautions kissing skinship ˊᯅˋ altero

❛ 姫　❜ thanks to danipie for the heeseung prompt and tam for jakes >< plus to jenn, tam and pockemonz for being my emotional support 🎀

reblogs⠀⠀ꢾ꣒⠀ feedbacks please

HEESEUNG ｡｡ ever since you moved in together, your boyfriend likes to walk around with a tank top embracing his upper body, showcasing his biceps and making you daydream about his chest.

frankly, this habit of his isn’t new to you— back when you lived in different apartments, he would always open the door while dressed in that sort of clothes.

you admired his arms for a while during the long times whereas you were together. gaze dragging over his hands to reach his biceps, you always wondered if the ribbon you put in your hair could fit around his big muscles.

“do you think it’d fit?” the ribbon is held between your index finger and your thumb as you question your boyfriend.

he looks at his biceps then at the pink hair accessory in your hand. seeing the sheer happiness on your face, he smiles “we can always try, sweetheart.”

wiping the grin off his face as he watches you wrap the thing around his flexed bicep is impossible. it is fun and you find it irresistibly hot— wrapping his arm is like marking him as yours. and you both love it.

JAY ｡｡ honestly, you think you are dreaming even now, deep in doze still, when you step into the kitchen and are met with a heaven-sent view in front of you.

with a mouth agape and eyes growing wide, you admire the back of your boyfriend. you want to thank whoever created gyms and thank your fortune for making your boyfriend such an addict.

his muscular and defined back shines, stares back at you as he is focused on making breakfast. the laces of the pink apron he wears on top of his naked torso wraps his waist perfectly.

it feels like heaven when your cheek collapses on his hot naked skin. you hug his waist like a teddy bear— almost melting into his skin. and god, he smells too good.

it’s dreamy when he kisses the top of your head, “good morning, baby,” he greets you, but you are too enamored by the vision of his broad shoulders a few moments ago to respond just yet.

you only hum, thinking that today will be a great day.

JAKE ｡｡ your phone rings as you are making yourself lunch. upon picking it up, a breathy voice reaches you through the phone. given the hour of the day, you don’t need to double check to know who it is.

“hi, princess, you good?” he greets you and you can hear the grin in his tone. a groan comes quick after— proving his current physical effort and confirming that he is at the gym, as he always is.

“yes, i’m good, jake,” the deep breath you take makes you able to respond after a few seconds. the next question is automatic, “how are you?”

“’m good, babe, i’m on the lat pulldown machine right now.” it would have been better, way better, if he hadn’t said that. or if he never showed you what a lat pulldown looks like.

but he did, and you cannot wipe the image of him sitting, his wide shoulders flexing alongside his back as he pulls the lat down. it makes you feel dizzy, him groaning again doesn’t help.

due to your silence, he continues. his voice is whiny, your knees get weaker, “i’ll finish my set quickly and take you on a date, alright?”

imagining him at the gym makes your whole behind fragile. your voice is locked in your throat and you tongue won’t move. but you’d let that man take you anywhere he’d like— the frail sounds of agreement you make are a confirmation of it.

SUNGHOON ｡｡ “stop moving around,” he commands, rather gently. his smile is too big for his words to be an order, he is so close to you that you can’t stop giggling. but you do stop moving.

the man’s beauty hits you one more time as your eyes focus on him. your boyfriend has his hands either side of your torso, next to your arms while you lay down on the floor.

he lower himself slowly, his lips brush over yours ever so gently, a quick kiss before he pushes on his arms and gets in his initial position. he is the one who got that idea, claiming that it’ll motivate him more.

it is in the privacy of your living room that he does another push up, his chest presses against yours when he lowers himself. this time, the kiss linger a little more than the last one.

you should have known that this exercise wouldn’t last long. it takes him less than three pushups to start focusing on your lips a little too much. “you know what? nevermind.”

his weight drops on you, a little ‘oof’ escapes from his mouth and a gentle ‘sorry, darling’ does the same from his. you kiss him back quickly when his mouth gets on yours.

SUNOO ｡｡ when you first met, his gym journey wasn’t as long as it is currently. therefore, you were used to his old, already quite muscular build. when he started going more regularly to the point where it was almost everyday, the changes weren’t very obvious to you.

of course, you knew he was getting more buffed every passing day but you didn’t realize how much until now. when your head is resting on his chest, covered by the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

it takes you a bit to realize how firm his chest feels under your resting head. you stay still for a moment, then your eyebrows furrow as you rub your cheek against his chest.

his arms tighten around your form, and you realize that his pecks are not the only parts that got more muscular. his chest vibrates as he laughs, “what are you doing?”

taken out of your examination, your gaze shoots up. it’s absurd how his natural cute face is on top of that kind of build. “since when are you hulk?”

JUNGWON ｡｡ during the time when he isn’t getting on your nerves or teasing you, he spends his energy on lifting weights at the gym and working on his muscles.

therefore, you know how well his body is built. you can tell, honestly, whenever you surreptitiously peek at him while he takes off his shirt to put on a hoodie instead. his big shoulders and small waist looks back at you, his beceps flex as he folds the clothing piece.

his muscles might be one of his greatest assets, to both send you into a spiral and irritate you the most. because being manhandled everywhere by your boyfriend creates an eruption of butterflies in your stomach but not being able to fight back makes you want to bite him.

“leave me alone!” you laugh when he lifts you off the floor in a swift mention. you are unable to move your arms as he jailed them in his embrace when he rushed to you.

the man quite literally throws you on your shared bed, making your body bounce against the mattress. you are breathless from both laughing, running away from him— even more when you find him on top of you.

you try to push him away when he leans closer. well, not really trying, because you don’t put any strength in the process. he ends up getting his kiss at the end, and he is quite content about it.

RIKI ｡｡ after occupying your room more than you do, even when you are not here, it is natural for him to have a place in your dressing where he can put his clothes.

the first time you thought about it, there wasn’t any big deal or issue related to it. it is the natural course of things, and you love that he is always there with you.

but it gets harder for you when he actually changes. when he takes off his shirt right before your eyes, letting you have a look of the creation he worked hard to have.

embarrassment becomes a prominent emotion in your head whenever you catch yourself staring at his defined abs. it is torture, you cannot yake your eyes off of them.

only a short amount of time passes before he notices it. soon enough , your boyfriend is smirking at you with his shirt in his hand, “like what you see?”

it’s a shame that you actually do. rather very much than not.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[yeyinde]

no one respects the art of cock-warming quite like Price.

18+ | cock warming. exhibitionism.

he loves having his lil sub (whether you want to be or not) kneeling at his feet, his cock stuffed down your throat while he works, alternating between holding a cigar in his hand or a pen. the other on the back of your head, keeping you still. cradled his lap where you belong.

and he'd spend ages training you up for it, too.

starts by makingyou sit in his lap, letting you mewl and whine and pant in his ear about the stretch, the need. wanting him to just fuck you already and get it over with. but he's patient. let's you acclimate slowly until all he has to do is pat his thigh and you're already shoving your panties to the side, sliding down his thick girth as he turns on some movie you'd been chirping about wanting to see. squirming around for a moment until you find your spot before melting into his chest, breathing around the stretch. because at some point, having him inside of you, stuffing you full—cock, mouth, ass—comes as naturally as breathing, anyway.

but if you think this is a private endeavor only, well. you'd be wrong.

it starts small. his fingers inside of you when you're out at a restaurant with Laswell and her wife (who seems to sharing your expression; Kate's hand disappearing below the table), just sitting. teasing. he's not trying to get you off. it's just training. new horizons, love, he says, and it's just so easy to get swept up into the maelstrom of his desire, isn't it?

a movie after. it's boring. you hate it. so, he unzips his trousers and offers himself to you instead. let's you thumb through your feed (phone on silent, brightness down to zero) in the back of the theatre as you lounge across the chairs in the empty room, his cock down your throat.

an opera. sitting on his lap with him inside of you, dress covering the indecent act as he shoves your panties to the side (only worn in case he finishes—can't have his cum dripping down your thigh when you go out to eat, can you?) and sinks in deep with a little groan muffled into your neck.

soon, he'll refuse to let you sit anywhere that isn't his lap. on his cock. you almost get caught a few times (and maybe you do) but John's influence is all-consuming and no one bats an eye when he starts to bounce you on his lap in an empty restaurant, hand curled over your mouth to keep any noise that spills out just for him. only for him.

if you think falling asleep without him inside of you is an option, then you should have thought about that before moving in because after he fucks you, he'll cradle you close, ignoring any protests about cleaning up. feigns sleep until you huff, giving in.

(you sleep better when he's inside of you, anyway.)

he's just utterly insatiable—and smitten, really—and it doesn't even feel much like training or conditioning when (he rings the dinner bell and) your mouth starts to water as he sits down, thighs spread wide enough for you slip between. nursing his cock the same way he carts his fingers across your nape, cradling the whiskey in his hand. staring down at you with a deep, ravenous hunger as you sigh around the thick of him, and rest your head on his lap.

(a bell echoes in your ear, but it's easy to ignore it because he was right, after all. this is where you belong.)

[missdynamighttt]

lmao okay... filipina! gf having a petty shouting match with bf! katsuki and cussing each other out in each other's languages.

the argument started over something stupid—so stupid you couldn't even remember how it began. but now? now, you were pissed.

"hoy, ikaw! akala mo porket pogi ka kaya mo kong bastusin?! (hey, you! do you think that just because you're hot that means you can insult me?!)" you snapped, jabbing a finger into his chest.

katsuki, never one to back down, fired right back in japanese. "kimi wa boku o okora seru nda yo, wakarudaro? itsumo sono kawaii kao de ki o magirawasu nda! (you piss me off, you know that? always distracting me with that pretty fucking face!)"

you weren’t even sure if he fully understood what you were saying, and you definitely weren’t catching all his rapid-fire japanese insults, but that didn’t stop either of you from cussing (possibly flirting) each other out in your own languages.

"para kang tangang sakit sa ulo na may abs! kung hindi ka lang gwapo, sinuntok na sana kita! (youre like a stupid headache with abs! if you weren’t so hot, i’d have punched you by now!)"

"ore wa hontōni mendōna sonzaida! demo... kuso, ore wa boku ga imamade deatta naka de mottomo mendōna sonzaida! (you’re such a pain in my ass! but... fuck, you’re the prettiest pain in the ass i’ve ever had!)"

neither of you were backing down. your voices clashed like thunder, both of you stubborn as hell, and honestly? if anyone walked in, they’d think you hated each other.

"oi.-kun ga utsukushīkara to itte, kimi ga itte iru koto o watashi ga rikai dekiru wakede wa nai yo.' (hey. just because youre beautiful, it doesn't mean i understand a fucking word youre saying.)" his jaw clenched, eyes blazing.

"ulol! (idiot!)" you shot back, arms flailing in frustration. "hindi kita maintindihan pero alam kong gago ka! pogi o hindi! (i don't understand you but i know you're an ass! handsome or not!)"

katsuki scoffed, stepping in closer, his voice dropping into something lower, more dangerous. "kuso, `chikatte iukedo, kimi ga nani o itte mo mechakucha shitsureina ndaroukedo, demo, kimi ga boku ni donatte iru toki no kuchibiru wa ī kanjida yo.' (fuck, i swear, whatever the fuck you’re saying is probably rude as hell, but damn, your lips look good when you’re yelling at me.)"

oh, hell no. (whatever the hell that meant.)

"ay, gago, ano sinabi mo?! pakyu! bahala ka dyan! maghanap ka ng ibang aawayin mo! ayoko na sa'yo—! (oh, you asshole, what did you say?! fuck you! suit yourself! find someone else to fight with! i don't want you anymore—!)"

before you could finish, his hands were on you—hot, firm, relentless, gripping your waist and yanking you forward.

katsuki grabbed you, his lips slamming onto yours with an intensity that stole the air from your lungs. you barely had time to react before your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling just as fiercely.

the kiss was all heat, teeth, and frustration—his tongue sliding against yours in a battle neither of you wanted to lose. the argument was already forgotten, who the hell cared what you were fighting about when this was so much better?

you tugged at his shirt, fisting the fabric, pouring all your irritation and want into the way your lips moved against his, biting on his bottom lip. he groaned, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, pulling, tilting your head just the way he wanted.

you gasped into his mouth, and he used that opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue pressing against yours like he was still trying to win.

it was messy. angry. hot.

his hands roamed, gripping, kneading, staking his claim as if trying to prove his point without words. your back hit the nearest surface—maybe the wall, maybe the counter, you didn’t care—and katsuki pressed into you, lips never leaving yours. his breath was ragged, matching yours, and when you nipped at his bottom lip, he growled, gripping your thigh and hoisting you up.

"still mad?" he murmured against your mouth, voice low and rough as you wrapped your legs around him.

you tugged at his hair, making him hiss. “oh, now you wanna use your mouth for something other than yelling at me?”

he scoffed, fingers digging into your waist. “tch. big talk for someone who was just moaning in two languages.”

you scoffed, shoving at his chest (not that it did anything, because he was built like a damn wall). “excuse me?”

he grinned, lips brushing against yours. “nah, you’re not excused.”

and then he used his mouth the other way he knew how—by kissing you stupid.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ used google translate for katsuki unfortunately🤕 lmk if any of the translations are wrong, and i hope you guys enjoyed!! inspired by @ch3rryjampi3's comment in my recent filo fic💜💜

[heyimkana]

Currently thinking about... how break-up sex would go with JJK men...

Like what if, even though you're both so in love with each other, the situation you're in right now forces you to break up with them. They'll try to fight about it, of course, you're crazy about each other, after all. But you insist on breaking up, even going as far as to tell them that you don't love them anymore just so they'll believe you. And before you say goodbye, you ask them to hold you one last time.

Satoru would be quiet. Sex was always fun with him. rough, fast, exhausting, but never boring. Sex with him was always filled with laughter, giggles, and playful kisses that would end with gasps and moans but your last time with him would be quiet. So quiet, in fact, that you could probably hear the sound of him gritting his teeth while he was fucking you from behind, all because he was trying to stop himself from saying, "This is a joke. This must be a joke. We play tricks on each other all the time. You're just trying to get back at me, aren't you, baby? There's no way you don't love me anymore. But even if you do, I don't care. I had let someone go a long time ago and I'd spent years of my life regretting it. I'm not letting you go, not now, not ever. You're staying. No, I'll make you stay." He wouldn't look at you when he fucked you, not once, as he was actually scared that you truly hated him then. But it wouldn't matter if you did. He was never going to let you go.

Suguru would listen with his stoic face intact when you told him that you wanted to break up with him. And softly, he'd ask you why, and you'd lie and tell him that you just didn't love him anymore and his eyes would turn cold as he looked at you, trying to read between your lies and you were scared that he'd know the truth. And if you told him that you wanted him to hold you one last time, he would smile and say, "Sure." but it felt so eerie that you had goosebumps breaking on your skin. Suguru would drag you out of the bed, tear open your dress and his grip was hard enough to leave bruises on your skin but he would still be smiling, even when you flinched in pain. "You like it better like this anyway, right?" he'd say as he fucked you standing up from behind with his fingers wrapped around your neck. He'd have you stand in front of a mirror, making sure to see the pathetic face you made every time he fucked you stupid. He'd show you that you were his in every way possible, making sure you understand that you were going to fucking regret it if you decided to leave him.

Yuuji would be so confused. He'd be confused when you kissed him after you said you didn't love him anymore. He'd be confused when you still hugged him afterward, and kissed his neck, and tugged onto his shirt before you pulled it over his head. He'd be confused when you asked him to hold you one last time, and he wouldn't say anything when you pushed him down to the bed. It was only when you sat on his lap, trying to slide his cock inside that he'd stop you. "No, wait, I can't do it," he would say, unable to look at you because suddenly, tears started to brim in his eyes. "If you're going to leave me after we're done, I can't do it. I love you. I don't know why you suddenly changed your mind about me, but I'm still in love with you and I don't think I can love anyone else but you. You'll break me if you do this, so please..." His voice would break and he would hug you close, his chin placed on your shoulder, his voice, sketched with the tears he was trying to hold back, reverberating right in your ear. "Please stop and tell me. I'm an idiot so I'm very slow at figuring things out and I don't know if I hurt you and I'm sorry but... I want to understand... Why...? Why are you leaving me? Am I... not enough for you?"

Megumi would not do it. He wouldn't kiss you. He wouldn't touch you. He'd only clench his jaw and ball his fingers into fists the second the words "I don't love you anymore" flowed past your lips. And when you tried to kiss him, he'd take a step back, his voice deep when he asked you, "Have I done something wrong?" You'd shake your head no, saying "It's not because of you, Megumi. It's me—" and he'd cut you off with a "Don't give me that bullshit." He'd raise his voice, but only because he was shaking inside. "If that's true, then tell me what it is! Whatever you did, I'll forgive you. If it's a part of you that you think is the problem, I'll accept it. If it's the situation we're in, let me know so I can fix it. Don't just show up and tell me you don't love me anymore, don't—" he took a breath, his voice breaking at the end. His face would twist in heartbreak when he finally gathered the strength to look at you in the eyes. His voice would soften when he continued, "Don't tell me you're leaving me. Please."

Yuuta would feel a thousand emotions at once. For the first few minutes when you told him you didn't love him anymore, he'd keep asking you, "Why? Was it something I said? What did I do wrong? How can I make this right? Please. Tell me. Tell me so I can fix everything." And you'd see tears glazing his eyes and he would look so frightened, so heartbroken, unable to believe that the love of his life was slipping out of his fingers. When you told him, "It doesn't matter, Yuu. I just can't do this anymore." Yuuta would panic, colors leaving his face and he'd start begging, "No, please, you can't leave me. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my everything, please don't do this to me, please tell me how to make things right," and it was breaking your heart seeing him like this so you'd try to distract him by kissing him.

He'd whimper against your mouth, cupping your face with both hands, still whispering, "Don't leave me" again and again. He'd slowly regain his composure, his body melting under your kiss and when you started touching him, he'd respond with as much passion, love, and desire as he usually offered you, not knowing that it was going to be his last time with you. It was only when he was holding you in his arms, your legs tangled around his waist, his mouth slicked with your cum, his hips thrusting slow but deep, that you told him the truth, "This is going to be our last time."

Yuuta would freeze, his eyes turning round in both surprise and horror, but after that... You'd find your body folded in half, your head trapped between your knees, your jaw hanging low on your face, unable to even scream his name as he was fucking the breath out of you. His usually delicate moans would turn into heavy grunts, and he'd bunch the sheets under his fingers before he grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed, holding them with one hand as he used his other one to grip firmly onto the back of your thigh, pushing you up even further so he could bury himself deep inside you.

"You're not leaving me," he'd breathe out. "I won't let you. We promised each other we'd be together until we die. I won't let you break it." He'd kiss you, rough and messy, smothering you with it. He'd see a hint of fear written in your eyes, maybe you'd even cry a little from how rough he was being with you, but he'd kiss the tears away, his smile looking both beautiful and terrifying when he said, "Don't worry, Sweetheart. There's nothing to be afraid of. No one will love you better than me, I promise you. And if anyone dares to come between us," he'd angle your face to the side, lick a stripe up your neck before he let his smile graze your ear.

"I'll fucking kill them."

[temporarywelcome]

Sleep - Leon Kennedy

Words: 1.6k

Summary: Leon can't help but crave physical affection from his girlfriend.

CW: language, cold!reader, re4 leon but re2 puppy leon is def lurking, he is a BABYYY, hint of some 2000s toxic masculinity?

_______

Leon was pretty content with his relationship. 

Another agent, but in the FBI. A strong and resourceful woman who didn’t mind him constantly being gone on dangerous missions, considering she was busy with her own. She didn’t mind his closed-off personality because she was probably more closed off than him. 

And she didn’t mind his dry dad jokes. Another plus.

She also never pestered him for his lack of physical affection. He always gave her a kiss when he would first see her and one when they said their goodbyes. A handhold every now and then. But he barely touched her. She barely touched him. 

He was content with that

…Yeah, he was lying. 

Sure, he tried to give off a cold and dark vibe. A demeanor that showed he was not one to be fucked with. But damn, even the baddest bitches need to be held every now and then. 

Sometimes, his girlfriend would stay at his place for the night. The first time it happened, he didn’t dare admit it, but he was excited. Excited to not sleep alone, to sleep next to the woman he claimed his, to feel her warmth in his arms. 

Then, when they laid in bed, she had said a gruff “goodnight”, turned her back to him, and passed out. Not even a kiss. An “I love you”. Nothing.

Did she even love him? 

He questioned that often. Why didn’t she ever kiss him? Touch him? Showed him any affection? Then again, why didn’t he? They both gave each other the bare minimum. But that wasn’t what he wanted. 

Fuck. Even the baddest bitches wanted to feel loved. 

Like right now. He was seated in bed, fiddling with his fingers as she laid curled up next to him. Practically on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible. Like he was diseased or something. 

Maybe there was something he was doing wrong. Maybe he wasn’t loving her right. Maybe he didn’t deserve to be touched. Didn’t deserve to feel love. 

But what did he do wrong? What did he do to not deserve a simple fucking hug from his girlfriend? Why couldn’t she initiate a kiss? Hold his hand? Nothing? 

Fuck, stop thinking like that, Kennedy. Be grateful you even have a girlfriend.

And so he laid down, burying his head in the fluffy pillow and shutting his eyes. Back turned to her, like they always slept. Like they didn’t even like each other. He had thought finally getting a girlfriend would make it all better. He wouldn’t feel as lonely and sad. He just wanted to feel wanted. 

So why did the bed feel more cold with someone in it than without? 

Just stop fucking thinking and sleep already. Fucking loser. 

Trying to steady his breathing, he brought the blanket up to his chin, suddenly feeling cold as goosebumps formed on his skin. It was almost fucking spring, for fucks sake. Maybe it was because he had the coldest woman on the planet in his bed that he felt like this. 

Yeah, that’s probably what it was-

Wait.

He couldn’t tell if it was a hallucination or a dream, but he could have sworn he felt arms slowly wrapping around his waist. Felt the bed stir slightly as she scooted closer to him, her chest to his back. What the fuck what the fuck what the-

She was holding him. She was actually fucking holding him. Was he in the fucking Twilight Zone? Yes, he had to be, because there was no way his girlfriend had her arms around him. 

Holy shit. 

Hesitantly, Leon reached down, placing his hands atop hers, feeling… warmth? Feeling something he hasn’t felt in years. Tracing his fingers over her soft skin, her well-manicured nails, feeling her breath on his neck. Fuck, this was just a little touch and he felt so fucking happy. Something so small finally made him feel somewhat wanted. 

Honestly sad. This simple gesture was enough to get him giddy.

Giddy and eager to hold her too, slowly turning in her grip. She moved as well, unconsciously repositioning herself on her back, an arm still lazily keeping him close. With a smile, he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Pressing his face in the spot connecting her neck and shoulder. She smelt so good. 

Look, Leon was a big guy. Broad-shouldered and muscular. However, this was probably the safest he ever felt. In a long fucking time. 

So you can’t judge him for tearing up a bit. A lot. Sniffling against her neck as he held onto her tightly, resisting the urge to cry like a fucking baby.

“Babe?”

Shit. 

He laid limp against her, hoping she’ll somehow assume he was asleep and leave it alone. A dumb thought. As if she couldn’t feel his tears on her skin and hear his ragged breathing. Maybe she’d think he’s just having a nightmare. Yes! This wouldn’t be the first time he had a nightmare-

“Babe,” she repeated gently, and he felt her fingers trail from his spine to his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with her nails, “What’s wrong? I know you’re awake so stop playing,” 

Before he could respond, she tugged at his hair, not enough to hurt, but to get what she so impatiently wanted. His attention, which she had when he finally peeked up at her, stormy blue eyes meeting hers. “Nothing,”

“Bullshit, you’re literally crying,” she rubbed at his scalp again gently, “Did you have a nightmare?” 

“No, I don’t really want to talk about it,” he replied, tapping the pads of his fingers against her hip absentmindedly, “I’m fine,”

“Am I supposed to believe that?” she chuckled softly, lifting his chin up and cupping his cheek, thumb brushing against his cheekbone in a soothing motion, “C’mon, I won’t be able to sleep knowing you’re upset,” He didn’t even know how to respond. Her hot-and-cold personality made it so difficult for him to know what would be considered okay to say. 

“I’m… I’m not upset,” 

Her brow raised in disbelief, “You’re not upset? Am I imagining these tears then?” With her thumb, she swiped one off of his face, “Hm, no. Not imagining anything,” 

“They’re…” he gulped, embarrassed, “...happy tears,” 

“Oh? And what caused these happy tears?” 

He could hear it in her tone already. She was ready to tease the fuck out of him. So with a huff, Leon sat back up, crossing his arms over his toned chest in annoyance. “Nothing,”

“What do you mean nothing?” She sat up as well, tilting her head to the side as she eyed him in curiosity. “Just tell me what’s up already!” 

“You fucking held me!” he broke, burying his face into his hands in embarrassment.

Silence. 

“Ughhhh,” he grumbled, swinging his legs over the bed, ready to leave. Jump out the window and dive proudly to the street and die, maybe. Yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea. 

“Wait!” he then felt her arms go around his shoulders from behind, “Stay!”

And like a dog, he stayed put. Still with the pouty and embarrassed look on his face, staring straight ahead at him at the window he so desperately wanted to jump through. 

“That made you cry?” his girlfriend whispered, head resting on his shoulder, “I was just hugging you from behind…”

He felt a tad bit more pathetic now. “I know. You… you never did that before,” he hesitantly raised a hand to graze her arm, soaking in the physical touch as much as possible. 

“I suppose not,” she hummed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, “You always seem so closed off. I figured you didn’t want to be touched, which is why I always just let you initiate contact,”

“I…” he bit his lip, trying to form the words in his head before saying them out loud. Trying to describe how he felt without hurting his manhood.

But fuck, yes, even the baddest bitches need to be spooned from time to time. 

“I do want to be touched,” he mumbled out, “You’re my girlfriend. I want you to touch me, I want to touch you. I thought you didn’t want to be touched,” 

“You’re kidding?” she laughed gently, next kiss going to his neck, right on his pulse point, “Literally every night I stay at your place, my arms are around you at some point while we’re sleeping. Can’t help myself,”

That made him shift his body to face her, eyes slightly widened, brows furrowed as he processed his words. This wasn’t the first time? She… did this literally every night she was here? “Really?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, taking his hands in hers, “You know, you could have just told me you wanted some affection, babe.”

“That’s embarrassing…” his eyes darted away again, cheeks flushed red. He could still feel her eyes on him, making his cheeks redden further. 

“So unmanly, isn’t it?” she teased gently.

“Shut up,” 

She giggled, releasing his hands and laying back onto the bed, head resting comfortably on the pillow. Arms opening, she said, “C’mon. It’s late and we both have to be up early!” 

He hesitated. Because, well, he was a dumb ass. Falling asleep cuddled up to his girlfriend like a fucking baby? How fucking embarrassing-

Ugh, sign him the fuck up. 

The hesitation lasted a possible two seconds before he laid next to her, accepting the embrace while snaking his arms around her waist as well. Accepting a little kiss to his forehead and a soft “I love you” that left her lips. 

Handing her an “I love you too” back before getting the best sleep he literally ever had.

[boyfhee]

ꢾ꣒⠀ ────────── 𝓐𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍 ❜

𝗢𝗥 ｡ ｡ ｡ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎'𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇' 𝗎𝗉, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

엔하이픈ㅤ｡���( 189O ) ㅤ&ㅤbf enha, est. relationship ㅤ 𖥔 kissing, petnames ㅤ／ ㅤ( MAGAZINE )

ㅤ ꒰⁠ ⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠ ꒱ㅤ..ㅤthanks to junibee for helping with wonie's :D happy reading !

rbs⠀⠀ꢾ꣒⠀ feedbacks ! °ᯅ°

HEESEUNG

he has been staring at you for a while now— arms crossed over his chest, his tall frame leaning against the doorway. pretty can't even describe you right now. the way you slip up that off shoulder dress over your body before tying your hair up makes him want to throw all the reasoning out of the window.

“let me,” he offers to pull the zip up, walking behind you before you could even respond. he's biting the inside of his cheeks to keep himself grounded, although it doesn't help much when all he wants to do is worship your bare neck and shoulders with his lips. he slowly pushes your hair aside before taking the zipper and pulling it up. the other hand rests on your waist while his fingers gently brush against the soft skin of your back— he bites back a smirk when you shiver.

he's going to have a hard time keeping his hands off you at the party tonight.

JONGSEONG

he knows exactly what he put himself into when he said he would help you pick a lipstick for your outing with a friend. you're putting it on so meticulously, making a nice blend of two different shades while saying something in between— your words fall deaf to his ears anyway.

honestly, he was already spiraling, looking at your pretty lips that taste so sweet. then you put on your lip gloss, giving them a nice, plump & shiny touch; and all his restraints fall loose. while you're waiting for him to give his opinion, a defeated sigh falls off his lips as he pulls you into a deep, messy kiss.

“i couldn't control myself,” he whispers, and your lipstick is smudged, his lips adorning a pretty shade of lipstick that mirrors yours. he wipes the gloss over your lower lip with his thumb, he can't promise he won't do this again.

JAEYUN

“you look so sexy,” you're interrupted by your boyfriend's arms sneaking their way around your waist. he knows better than doing that while you're doing your eyeliner, but he doesn't really care. you're wearing that dress he likes and it's clinging to every curve and contour of your body just the way he likes.

your brows are furrowed in annoyance, a lousy attempt at getting out of his arms. it doesn't faze him when you're scolding him with your pretty voice and that pretty face with those pretty eyes. it only leads to him nuzzling his face in your neck, trailing kisses down the column of your throat, down to your collarbones and bare shoulders.

your dinner reservations would have to wait.

SUNGHOON

a whiff of your perfume mingles in the warm air of your bedroom, and sunghoon suddenly pauses in between buttoning up his shirt.

he thanks whatever deity is on his side right now because you look like a goddess— all dolled up in a pink satin dress that gathers around your waist when you tie it behind, with jewelry around your neck and your lips looking so inviting; he is barely holding onto his sanity.

and when you walk up to him, giving him a little twirl with the prettiest, most innocent smile while the scent of your perfume is intoxicating his senses, he can't help but back you up against the nearest wall. “can't wait to get his pretty dress off you tonight, angel,”

SUNOO

sunoo's mouth goes dry at the sight of you in front of the bathroom mirror in your hotel suite. and it's not like you don't notice him standing him, he just doesn't respond to you and continues staring at you like a madman.

and how could he not when you look so angelic— he notices your new blush palette on the counter, the way you lean a little forward to put it on your cheeks, the little pout as you try to choose a lipstick— sunoo practically tunnel visions on your lips, imagining them against his.

his eyes travel further down, breath hitching at the sight of your bare thighs just below the hem of your dress and it makes him gulp, struggling to compose himself.

JUNGWON

he pauses comically as soon as he steps out of the shower and his eyes land on your figure. jaw? dropped. mind? blown. his lingering gaze follows your movements as you slip the dainty chain around your neck, checking yourself in the mirror. you put on your earrings with an elegant ease and his heart skips a beat when you tuck a few strands of hair behind your ears to get a better look at yourself.

“like what you see?” your words pull him back into reality, a slightest hint of pink creeping up his cheeks and ears. you've barely done anything and he's already a stuttering mess.

he's already going insane as you step closer to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, telling him to get ready with the sweetest smile; the subtle hint of your perfume electrifying all his senses— suddenly, staying in for the night seems like a better option.

NI-KI

he has been trying to play it off for fifteen minutes now, to act as if he hasn't been shamelessly staring at you while waiting for you to get ready. he has been trying to focus on the phone in his hand, it's not his fault you look so gorgeous that he wants to cancel the movie plans and kiss you for an hour straight.

and riki doesn't understand how you manage to get prettier everyday. you're putting on your eyeshadow— your wandering gaze finds its way to him and he's a goner, looking away and muttering under his breath. “hurry up,”

he says, but he definitely means you should take your time dolling up while he sits and admires you longingly. he notices the way your hair frames your face and falls over your shoulders, your lips that reflect off the light in the room, skirt that makes you look like a real doll. the movie is far out of the question, for now he's more worried about others checking out his girl.

[simpjaes]

exhibition ― s. jy

Requested by anonymous via tumblr: cam boy jake. That’s it.Jake is your college roommate and he needs to buy a camera for his online classes. Curiosity gets the better of him, leading to a lot of extra money and, well, finding out that you’ve been a little too curious about what he's doing.  Or the one where your roommate flaunts his secret job at you, not thinking you’d go out and search for him. And definitely not thinking you’d be getting off to him either.

MDNI

WORDCOUNT― 4.9k

PAIRING― cam boy jake x afab reader

CONTENT―  college setting but it’s mosting within the apartment they share, cam boy jake, confused best friend reader, smut WARNINGS― none but brief mention of mommy kink in passing

NOTE―this isn't proof read ;o;

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Seven hundred.” 

“What?” “That’s how much I made last night,” Jake’s eyes shine brighter and brighter with each word, a crooked smile plastered across his face as he sleepily blinks. “I didn’t even have to do anything weird either.” 

You pause as you sip your morning coffee, wrapped up in a blanket and head pounding at the amount of stress and work you’ve had to get done while he was too busy playing with himself on camera for dozens of people. Or maybe hundreds. Thousands?

“What did you do then?” You raise a brow, not entirely checked in on his boasting this morning, though it is impressive.

Jake always shares how much he makes after each session. What started with fifteen dollars is now reaching seven hundred. Surely your best friend isn’t just jerking off, right?

“Well, it was a little weird, but not that bad.” He avoids the question with a vague answer, suddenly feeling his face heat up. “Just a little here and there, y’know?”

You narrow your eyes instantly. So he does do weird shit for money! You knew it! No way could someone make that much money in such a short span of time by regular jerking off. 

“Just a little what?” You stare him down, now placing your coffee on the table and leaning towards him. He knows better than anyone that you, of all people, can point out if he lies. Meaning, he has to be honest. 

And so, he shrugs, trying to be nonchalant about it. 

“Mommy.” He says it like he’s saying any other word, as if he’s uncaring, as if it was worth the money. “Just had to say it a few times and the money came pouring in.” 

Your eyes narrow at him even more.

“What else?” You question. “There’s no way they’d accept it unless you…”

He raises his brow at you now, tilting his head in cheeky curiosity. 

“Unless I cried? Edged? Let them torture me a little bit?” He smiles. “Yeah, I know.”

You’re a bit shocked, the images of what that must have looked like for his viewers forcing your curiosity to grow. His smug face looking back at you now serves as proof that he very well may be into that kind of thing. Almost like he’s sharing a kink with you, which…is not something the two of you do. 

Despite being roommates, and without any mention of how long you’ve been friends, sex has never been a topic until he started this whole camboy thing. 

You remain calm though. This is Jake you’re talking to. He’s the last person you want to see drooling and cumming all over himself. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Okay so, you’re a liar. 

All day, all fucking day you’ve thought about it. It’s not that you’re into the kink, or even that you’re into Jake. You’re just…curious about how smug he is about it. And yeah, it’s probably just a huge confidence boost to have all sorts of people rubbing one out to you while paying your bills, but still. 

You’re only a liar because that so-called confidence makes him more open about it. More loud. More comfortable. More…horny? 

You can tell by now, weeks after he started. You could never hear a peep from his bedroom, not a single moan or sigh at first. Now though, he’s only gotten louder. You hear the moans, the dirty talk into his camera, the usernames, all of it.

“Thank you–mmf– cumslut2000.” 

God, you hate that you didn’t cringe hearing him say that. It was the moan mid-sentence maybe, or the sultry tone you’ve never heard from him until now. You can’t help but squeeze your legs together with an annoyed groan, practically leaping for your headphones shortly after because, absolutely the fuck not.

Not Jake. It’s too weird. 

And the days pass like that, casual with him as he discusses his pay where you no longer question because now you’d just think too hard about the details. The nights pass like that too, where he’s louder, louder, louder, until you can almost hear him through your muffled videos and playlists. 

Until you are forced to feel the arousal just like the rest of his viewers. You can’t escape the attraction despite wishing, hoping, fucking praying for your head to stop wanting to hear more. 

You know better than anyone though, hoping and praying does nothing for you and the only thing that will help this situation between your legs is seeing. Proving to yourself, so to say, that seeing Jake act like that will feel gross. It will turn you off. It will solidify that Jake is your best friend and your roommate, nothing more. 

It’s easy to find him too. All you had to do was abandon your headphones tonight, waiting for him to introduce himself via username to his stream. 

Doggystyle02.

That’s what he picked? He can’t be fucking serious. 

You’re excited as you google the username, enabling NSFW search and finding him within seconds. Excited to lose the interest that’s driving you up a fucking wall, that is. And before you click into his stream, you inspect.

Yeah, that’s definitely his abs oiled up in his profile picture. You choose to ignore his uh…thing under his sweats, heavy, leaving a little spot on the front of them. 

Oh, 23k followers? And he started two, maybe three months ago? People want Jake that badly? And you just…live here with him? You get to see him daily, and hear him playing all these kinky roles in real life? God, you just know if the viewers knew they’d be saying shit like “If i lived with you, I’d be on that cock every day.”  Blah, blah, blah. 

They don’t know Jake like you know him. He’s just a dude, not some sex god. 

Then…something in your gut stirs. It flips, it bubbles, your face warms up. The comments on his profile asking him all sorts of things, saying all sorts of things and he just…responds? Reciprocates? 

Cumslut2000 comments: god i want you to hold me down and make me take it

Doggystyle02: Don’t sweet talk me like that, you know how I get. 

Oh, does she now? How the fuck would she know anything about Jake. Your best friend. Your roommate. 

DPlover: can we plllleeease do another private show? 

Doggystyle02: book me for later, i’ll even give you a discount <3

Another private show?! A fucking discount?!  

Blushy: im too shy to talk when you’re online but i really, really want you.

Doggystyle02: you wanna talk in private? I’ll message you and bring you right out of that shell. let me take care of you baby

You’re speechless. During his private job, where he doesn’t share his name but he shows his fucking face, he publicly talks to people like this? He’s never so much as looked at you for too long after you’ve gotten out of the shower, yet he wants to take care of a fucking loser ass bitch who is too shy to talk to him? 

Sexually?! 

Safe to say, never in your life did you ever think you’d find yourself jealous of people who get Jake’s attention. To you, he’s always just been, well, Jake. The guy who ran up your apartment stairs on all fours the day you moved in, the boy who constantly did your homework for you in highschool because he knew you wouldn’t graduate with him if he didn’t, the absolute best friend who followed you to the same college, saved you from the dorms by becoming your roommate, and now…somehow, seems…more than just what he was before.

Surely you’re just horny though. Curious, in the mood, whatever. Anyone would be when there’s a porn set just a wall over, right?

You shake your thoughts, knowing you’ll just make yourself sick if you keep reading all of his little public comments and start wondering what he says in private to them. You scroll up instead, glancing at his abs again before your eyes land directly on what you were trying so hard to avoid. 

He’s kind of packing, you can’t lie. If he wasn’t Jake, you’d probably be ogling, rubbing out to him just like everyone else. Hah. You chuckle, shaking your head at your own stupidity, ready for these weird feelings to be eradicated the second you click into his stream. 

Except…jesus fucking christ.

The comments roll in faster than you can read. The money is pouring in, and he’s sitting there on camera with that same dopey grin he gives you every morning. There’s something else with his smile though, a little lip bite, some tongue darting action to wet his lips. Hair falling into his eyes…jesus. 

After a minute or two of staring at your best friend’s face, ignoring the movement of his shoulders attached to the hand that’s…doing something, a pop up covers his image entirely.

SIGN UP OR LOG IN TO CONTINUE WATCHING…

Never in your life have you signed up for something so fast, typing in a string of cute letters and numbers to differentiate yourself in the sea of horny viewers. And then his image is back, and your eyes trail straight down. 

Instantly you choke up, watching the way he uses his hands with that expression on his face. It really is just typical jerking off but…something about it. Something about the way he flicks his own nipples with a seething lip bite, bucking his hips up before shining his pouting eyes into the camera, as if wishing any or all viewers were there to do it for him. And god, the way he looks kind of wet? Like, oiled up or lotion, maybe lubed up, you don’t know. His hips slide that thing through his fist so easily, making squelching sounds all the while. 

That’s…that’s really him. And he’s not even ten feet from your bedroom door looking like this. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to get up and interrupt him.

What would you even do? What would you say? 

So, you just watch, completely forgetting that you were doing this to get rid of the curiosity, not feed into the sexuality of a man you’ve known for so long as nothing more than your closest friend. 

Over a thousand dollars made in just one stream by the time he logs off, and those moans echo in your brain. Hearing them so clearly through your headphones just…wow. And, well, you did your best. 

You swore you’d never get off to the image of Jake after all this curiosity started, it’s just, you can’t help it now. At least he wasn't on your screen, moaning and whimpering for all the faceless people watching. You waited. Your belly burned and your clit throbbed through all of it, and only when he made a mess of himself with that same fucking smile before logging off did you finally give yourself what you needed. 

You don’t know why you did that, and you don’t know why the muffled stream of his shower just down the hallways is what sticks in your head when you finally reach your own orgasm.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Over a thousand this time.” 

“Oh?” You awkwardly avoid his eye contact, stiffening your shoulders at the mere mention of his stream from last night. 

“Yeah, not sure why they gave me so much this time though…” He trails off briefly, inspecting your posture and sudden defensive stance. “I didn’t even do any of the kinks.”

Well…you know why he made that much. He wouldn’t even need to feed the fetish crowd to make a decent living off of this, not with a face like that, a cock like that. It’s only natural he starts making more and more with each lengthy stream.

“Yeah, that’s weird.” You answer shortly, rummaging through cabinets despite your lunch sitting on the table across from him. 

“Yeah…” He notes the shift, feeling tension in the air. “Are you okay?”

“What? Me?” You ground both feet on the floor now, abandoning the cabinet as you turn towards him and look to the floor. 

You can’t do it. You can’t look at him. 

“I’m perfectly fine, what gives you that idea?” 

You hear him stand from the table, taking his usual Jake-esque strides toward you. Then, he leans forward and tilts his head, chasing your eyes with his own and forcing you to look at him. 

“Well, you haven’t even looked at me all morning,” He smiles, tapping your chin. “Was I too loud or something? Did it make you feel awkward?”

Oh, an out! An excuse!

“No, no, I just –” 

Now, why the fuck did you say no? Why are you looking at him now, stopping mid-sentence entirely stunned because, yep, that’s him alright. You saw him cum. You watched him do it, you listened, and you fucking liked it.

And now you’re looking him in the face, and he’s giving you that same smile, and you’re…oh god.

“I–” 

He tilts his head again, blinking twice before narrowing his eyes. 

“Spit it out. What happened? Jay do something?” 

Your words are caught in your throat, cheeks hot, stomach doing flips…Your eyes glance down without intention, right to his groin and he sees it. He even pulls back a bit, looking surprised before softening his expression. 

“Don’t tell me you–” His voice is softer now too, but he calls out your name. “Why are you being so weird?”

You can tell he doesn’t want to make the assumption, and arguably, you’re bad at hiding things from him. 

“I kind of, like, accidentally saw your stream last night.” You say it so fast, avoiding eye contact again by embarrassingly staring right between his legs. “It feels weird now.”

He laughs. He fucking laughs, but it’s kind of like, a smug laugh? A chuckle? 

“Oh now it’s weird?” He rolls his eyes. “Relax, it’s not weird.” 

“It is though! You’re, well, you! I didn’t need to see that!” 

“Then why’d you watch?” He smirks, reaching a hand out to tilt your chin up at him again. And he’s done this many times in the past. Platonic, lovely little touches from someone who will protect and appreciate you. This though, this is…

“Go on. Tell me. Why is it weird now?” He encourages you to admit it. “Because you liked it?”

You remain silent, unwilling to answer. 

“I grossed you out?” 

“No!” An immediate disagreement there, one that only digs your hole deeper. “I just–didn’t expect that.”

“So you did watch it.” He leans back now, crossing his arms and staring you down. “Did you enjoy yourself?

What is he fucking asking right now? The worst part about this is if you don’t answer, it’s still a fucking answer. But you don’t want to like, lie, because already you couldn’t even make it through a fucking morning with him after seeing it. So, with the smallest voice you have, so small you hope he can’t hear it, you whisper. 

“Yes.”

And if you were to look him in the face right now, you’d have seen that smug look go to curiosity. You’d have seen the split second of his adoration for you merging with a new view, a new feeling, and possibly a new need.

“Wait, did you–?” He even feels a bit shy now, his ears practically on fire as he keeps his eye on you, and the way you curl in on yourself with the admittance. “Did you..touch yourself?”

A small nod, you squeeze your eyes shut. 

Then you hear him hold his breath, taking a step back from you. You’ve touched yourself to him, he can’t believe it. After all these years, never once looking at him like that…not even he looked at you like that but now?

He pictures it. The way you must’ve been in your room all alone, knowing what he’s doing, searching him up, then confirming it for yourself. You liked it. You liked what you saw and you got off to it. 

And now he can’t stop smiling. Proud, he feels proud. 

“Well, don’t feel weird.” He finally says, trying to ease your discomfort. “It’s just…a normal thing. I don’t think you’re weird.”

With that, the conversation dies, fades entirely into awkwardness as you both split off. 

You need space to think.

He needs space to think.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re doing it again, as if just this morning you didn’t have to bury yourself 6 feet under right in front of him. 

Neither of you spoke after that. Avoiding each other consistently throughout the day with knowing, growing, and exhausting tension. Yet still, he’s started his stream, and here you are, watching it with a dazed look. 

You don’t know how to feel or what to do. Your head doesn’t anyway, your body knows too well what it wants and needs, and you hate yourself for making it so awkward between the two of you. Why did you tell him? You wonder if he’d be uncomfortable knowing you’re watching again, this time knowing your hand will stray as you watch.

You wonder, and wonder, will he think you’re disrespecting your friendship by doing this not once, but twice? 

Then, you hear him. 

“Can we do some roleplay today?” He speaks out to the chat, cock pressing against his briefs, head tilted with his messy hair in the very computer chair you bought for him. 

Last time, he was sprawled out on his bed, and you wonder if he always starts his streams this way.

“I want you to imagine we live together, and you know I’m in my room fucking myself, begging, needy for anything, anyone to touch me.” He looks into the camera. “Let’s say you’d hear it too. I’m loud on purpose…”

“Tell me what you’d do to me.”

You stare forward blankly, frozen on the spot at his words, then your eyes flick to the chat. 

“You wouldn’t see the front door ever again.” 

“I’d be on you within seconds.”

“You wouldn’t even be able to turn your camera on, just come home and I'd be waiting.”

Oh. 

Jake hums at the responses, whispering them to himself. 

“Ah,” Jake reads a specific comment with a nod. “I’d be an idiot to not jump at the opportunity.”

And the rest of his words become muffled as your ears pop. Is he…talking about you right now? Was he expecting you to watch again? 

“If that ever happens to me, just know I’d be grateful for all of you. Running to help me feel good, you’re all so good to me.” He giggles now. Fucking giggles. “Alright, enough of that.” 

Jake stares into the camera again, and you can’t help it. It feels like he’s staring at you. Straight through your fucking soul at this point. 

“I have a lot of stress to relieve.” He ends on that note, skewing his pants down and making haste. 

He’s not slow or cute with it like he was before. He’s aggressive, almost frustrated. His eyebrows furrow, his lips become red from his biting and chewing, and you watch the money flood in.

The comments blurring past, words of, “Oh fuck,”  and “This is new.” before suddenly, you hear an irritated sigh. A string of curse words pour from his lips, his hand squeezing the base of his cock so tightly, and spurts of cum shooting up his chest, only to drip down slowly. 

“What a waste.” He comments shortly at himself, heaving in a breath before he breaks out into his usual smile. “Sorry to end on such a short note, just thought I’d let you guys join me for a quickie!” 

Then he’s gone, the stream lasting about ten minutes in total. 

And apparently so is your fucking sanity because why is it that now you find yourself getting out of your bed, feeling the wet between your legs drip, and you’re heading for your bedroom door just to get to him? 

Why is he standing right outside, as if he was already waiting for you to open it?

And it’s silent now as you stare at each other. Him, with his sweatpants skewed over his waist, cum still on his chest, breath still uneven. Then you, practically vibrating to get on him. 

“You’re looking at me like you want me to eat you out.” He says, already pushing you right back through your bedroom door, letting you flop back on your bed as he instantly pulls at your shorts. “Want me to kiss you first?”

You feel your head spin the second you flop back and feel your shorts being pulled off, and before you can even comprehend his question, he’s already kissing you. Hot, heated. He sounds just as frustrated as he did just minutes ago getting off by himself. You don’t even mind the cum on his chest, nor the way he spreads your legs with his knee to get more comfortable. 

It’s happening. This is what kissing Jake feels like. This is what everyone wants from him, but it’s you that’s getting it. Has he always been like this? Good at kissing? Firm with his movements? Confident as he kisses down, down, down, giving you what he thinks you want?

You do want it. Perhaps you were looking at him like you wanted him to eat you out, and now he’s doing it. Breathing shortly right against your clit without so much as savoring his view before diving in, tongue instantly licking from your hole straight to your clit and sucking.

He hums around the taste, both hands holding your inner thighs and keeping your legs open. And he just…keeps humming, licking and sucking you so good that you can’t help but cry out and tug at that fucked up mess of hair on his head. 

Jake likes that. He likes the way you hold your breath and the way your legs shake around his ears. He likes even more the way he knew you were watching him tonight, and that you looked like you were coming straight to his room to jump him. 

So strange how quickly things can change, so strange how good his best friend must have tasted all these years, and he had never once considered it. And now, he blinks up at you, seeing the way you close your eyes and breathe through it, like you’re calming yourself down, thinking both too much and not at all. 

Easily he runs his hands up and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin of your belly before gently running his palms over your perked nipples. He continues to stare up, watching you, tasting you, loving this a little more than he ever knew he would. 

He did want you, he does want you. His cock has been aching all day for you since the moment he found out you thought of him. Jake thinks you’d be tight, because lord knows you haven’t gotten laid in a hot minute, and that quick jerk off session was absolutely for you. 

He wants to show off to you, wants you to see him more than anyone else can. Yet, it’s you he’s seeing more of right now and he doesn’t mind that so much. 

His eyes flick back down, allowing his fingertips to toy gently with your nipples as he skews his head, essentially making out with your pussy, slurping the slick you offer and not letting a single bit of it go to waste. Then, he dips in, pointing his tongue right against your pulsing hole and pressing in. 

There’s that tug of his hair again, your legs squeezing around him and your hips bucking up. 

Oh, you like that. 

So, he does it harder and with more focus. He squeezes his eyes shut and prepares to not breathe for a bit, licking as far into you as he can, his nose easily pressing your clit in such a beautiful way that all you can do now is moan.

Genuinely moan for him. His name in a little hiccup followed by a curse. 

Fuck, you’re so hot to him right now. Anyone would be fucking lucky to be in your bed at all, and finally it’s him. As if he’s been waiting for years despite never needing a turn previously. 

And this continues until he can’t breathe, his fingers growing more needy against your tits, his tongue reaching deeply before pulling out and allowing him to take a deep breath that is scented entirely in you. Then, he fucking nuzzles it.

You glance down with a heaved breath, legs shaking as you watch him do it. Eyes closed gently, rubbing his nose and lips against your clit in such a gentle, loving way that it has you melting instantly. 

“Jake–” You whisper in a breath, the first word you’ve said to him since you opened your bedroom door. 

All he does is shoot his gaze to you and continues his nuzzles, uncaring of whatever you need to say if it isn’t you asking him to fuck you right now. And arguable, you have nothing to say anyway. 

You just…needed to say his name. Needed to solidify that you just broke a boundary with him willingly, and he doesn’t care. You don’t care. 

You feel the thumping in your chest, your clit throbbing with each little rub he lends before you sit up slightly on your elbows, balancing yourself before reaching a hand down. 

He leans into your palm on his cheek, like a puppy wanting love. Then his hands leave your chest and find their way to your hips. His doe eyes instantly sharpen, and you’re instantly being pushed back down to your bed.

“Want me to be whatever you want? Let you do whatever you want to me?” He finally says, licking his lips as he makes his way up to hover over you, making sure to lift your shirt enough to expose both of your tits. “Just like I ask?” 

You find yourself nodding before taking it back, shaking your head. 

“I don’t want it to be like that–” You trail off, avoiding his intense gaze and suddenly feeling very vulnerable under him. “I just want you. The Jake I’ve always had.” 

Another shocked look reaches his expression. He’s a bit surprised, assuming that all of this was simply because you watched his stream and didn’t expect to be so turned on. He thought this would be a one and done thing. A “let’s forget this ever happened,” thing.

But you want him? Not the acting? Not the kinks, or the cocky grinning? You want the best friend in him, the part of him that was never sexual, never confident, never willing to approach women. 

He looks at you in question. 

“I don’t know how to be that right now.” He finally says, pressing his hips down and against you with a choked moan. “How can I be that when I want to fuck you so badly?”

You find yourself smiling, running your hands through his hair to get it out of his face before shrugging. 

“When have we ever known what we were doing?” You ask quietly, wincing slightly at how hard he’s gotten, knowing that you’re not having to see him through a screen now. 

That’s all he needed to hear before keeping eye contact and reaching down with one hand. You can’t bare to look down, knowing some sort of embarrassing sound will leave your throat. You decide to feel it instead. 

And goddamn, do you fucking feel it. 

He slides in easily, but the size of him stretches you far past anything you could have imagined. This is him, he’s this big. This is what Jake’s cock feels like and it has your chest caving in over it. 

All you can do is hug him, clinging to him through the stretch and hoping the way your cunt squeezes around him isn’t hurting him. 

“God, fuck.” He says in a quick whisper, arms shaking to hold himself up as you hug him. “You’re so tight, fuck.”

You smile against his messy chest at the compliment, basking in it really before allowing yourself to freely adjust. Your body clenches him tightly, and he remains still through it until he can’t anymore. 

He drops to the bed, flush against you without warning and the moans start pouring from his chest. He can’t stop even if he wanted to, can’t control his hips, his words, his thoughts.

He just lays here flush against you, letting his hips move freely and rapidly. In, out, in, out. So clumsy, so loud, and goddamn does it feel fucking amazing.

You moan alongside him, petting his hair with each thrust, feeling his cheek against your tits move with each drop of his jaw. Even when his moans are silent, you know he feels good and that makes you happy. 

None of those little bitches in his chat could get him like this, surely. He’s not acting right now. He’s Jake.

And that’s what makes it so good, you think. That’s why he has so much cum to put in you, apologizing through it all because the fear of this act comes with the orgasm. Apologizing for fucking you, for cumming in you, for getting off so quickly, promising you that he’ll make you cum too. 

It’s then that you realize, when he’s got his face back down between your legs, sucking his mess out of you…maybe you have feelings now.

And maybe that’s not such a bad thing either. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

remember that you can get early access and/or tip me via patreon! love and comments would be appreciated <3<3<3<3

[woninggg]

Distraction—崔胜澈

You tag along to the gym with Seungcheol, but you’re more interested in watching him than actually working out(NSFW)

"Come on, you're just gonna sit there?" Seungcheol whined, tossing his towel over his broad shoulders.

You looked up from your phone, your eyes lazily tracing the contours of his muscular body as he moved through the empty gym. The overhead lights bounced off the sweat that beaded on his skin, creating a teasing glow.

You bit your lip, contemplating his question. The gym was not where you had planned to spend your afternoon, but here you were, tagging along with your boyfriend.

"I might just do that," you replied, smiling coyly. The coolness of the air conditioning kissed your skin as you leaned back on the bench. You knew it annoyed him when you didn't participate, but you also loved teasing him and who are you to resist. "Or maybe I'll just watch you."

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, but you caught the hint of a smirk. He knew you weren't one to pass up the opportunity to admire his physique. He grabbed a set of weights and began to do some bicep curls, flexing dramatically as he did so. You couldn't help but laugh.

The sound of metal clanking against metal filled the space as he continued his workout, his movements precise and rhythmic. Each flex of his muscles made you want him more.

The gym was the perfect stage for his performance, and you were his devoted audience of one. The scent of sweat and iron mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, making it even harder to ignore the heat building between you.

Seungcheol finished his set and approached you, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "You still don't want to join in ?" He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

You feigned innocence, looking up at him with a smirk. "I'm having a good time watching."

"Is that so?" He leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "Maybe I can find a way to make it more interesting for you."

With a swift motion, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing his defined torso. Your gaze followed the trail of dampness that had soaked into the fabric, and you felt your mouth go dry. The muscles of his abs rippled as he tossed the shirt aside, and you had to resist the urge to reach out and trace the lines of his body with your fingers.

"Better?" he asked, a smug grin spreading across his face.

Your eyes roamed over the expanse of his bare chest, taking in the way the light danced across his defined abs. You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Much."

He took a step closer, the warmth of his body washing over you like a wave. "Good," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've got a little surprise for you."

With that, Seungcheol leaned down and scooped you up in his arms, the sudden motion making you let out a giggle. He carried you over to the nearby yoga mats, his biceps bulging with the effort. You squealed in surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively as he placed you gently on the ground.

"Now, you're going to get a better show" he said playfully, the glint in his eyes told you that this was still all a game to him.

The coolness of the gym floor met your back as Seungcheol laid you down on the mat, his fingers tracing the line of your collarbone before retreating. He grabbed a pair of dumbbells, the metal cool against your palms as he placed them in your hands, trapping you. Your heart raced as he positioned himself over you, his bare chest mere inches away. The smell of sweat and cologne grew stronger, making it difficult to focus on anything but the heat of his body.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Seungcheol lowered himself down, placing his hands on the dumbbells. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "Ready?" he whispered.

Before you could respond, he pushed off the ground, his body hovering above you as he began to do push-ups. Each time he descended, the pressure on your chest increased, sending waves of sensation through your body. You could feel the muscles in his arms tensing and releasing, as he moved up and down. Your eyes remained locked on his, fighting the urge to look below the waistband of his shorts, where his boner was becoming increasingly obvious.

You watched in awe as Seungcheol's muscles contracted and expanded with each push-up, his eyes never leaving yours. His breath grew heavier, and he started calling your name.

"Look at you," he murmured, his words coming out in short bursts as he continued his exercise. "So beautiful, watching me like that."

"Come on, baby," he panted, his voice low and gruff. "Let's see how long you can keep those pretty hands to yourself."

The sound of his voice, thick with arousal, was like a siren's call, making it impossible for you to ignore the ache that had started to build between your legs. You felt your own body responding, your nipples hardening against the fabric of your gym bra, and your pussy growing wetter with every passing second.

"Fuck, baby," Seungcheol groaned, his eyes darkening as he stared into yours. "Your tits look so good in that bra." He paused mid-push up, his body hovering just above yours. "I bet you want me to touch them, don't you?"

Your breath caught in your throat as his words painted a vivid picture in your mind. Your hands, trembling gripped the side of the mat, the dumbbells long forgotten. You watched in a haze as Seungcheol's body moved above you, His skin was slick with sweat now, droplets beading and rolling down his chest, landing on your skin."You like watching me, don't you?"

He murmured, his eyes hooded with lust. The sound of his voice was like a caress, sending shivers down your spine. Each time he went down, you felt his cock brush against your thigh. You wanted to touch him, to feel the weight of him on top of you, to have his hands all over your body.

"cheol," you whispered, your voice thick with need. "Please."

He paused again, his body hovering just above yours, the heat from his skin setting you on fire. "What do you want, baby?" he asked, his voice a gruff whisper.

Your eyes traveled down his body, taking in the sight of his arousal straining against his shorts. You bit your bottom lip, your heart racing. "I want you" you murmured, the words coming out as a desperate plea.

The sound of his breathing grew harsher, his abs tightening with each word that left his mouth. "Look how hard you're making me," he murmured, his eyes flickering down to the bulge in his shorts.

You couldn't take it anymore. You reached up interlocking your arms behind his neck, pulling him down into a messy kiss. The taste of his sweat mixed with the mint of his gum was intoxicating. His mouth was hot and eager, devouring yours as if he had been starving for it.

He groaned into your mouth, his body still moving rhythmically above you. The sensation of his cock sliding against your side was driving you wild.

Seungcheol's smirked, as he shifted his position slightly, the head of his cock now pressing against the side of your hip. "You want this, don't you?". He began to do push-ups again, each one slower and more deliberate. "You want to feel me inside you, don't you, baby?"

Breaking the kiss, you managed to get out, "Take these off." You nodded towards his shorts, the urgency in your voice clear.

Seungcheol chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours as he stood up, his abs flexing as he did. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down slowly, revealing his thick, hard cock.

Seungcheol's breath hissed out as you took him deep, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock. The sound of his pleasure spurred you on, and you began to bob your head, taking him in and out in a slow rhythm.

The taste of him filled your mouth, the salty sweetness making you moan around him. His hands found their way to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he guided your movements.

you got on your knees, gazing up at him, your mouth watering at the sight. You wrapped your hand around the base, feeling the warmth and power of his erection. You leaned in, taking a moment to admire the way the tip was flushed and glistening with pre-cum before taking him in your mouth.

You felt his muscles tighten as you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing out as you sucked. His hips jerked slightly, and you knew you were driving him wild. The grip on your hair grew stronger, his breathing becoming more ragged with each stroke of your tongue. The veins in his cock throbbed against your lips, and you could feel his heart pounding through his cock.

You looked up at him through your lashes, watching the way his eyes rolled back in pleasure. The sight of him losing control was incredibly arousing, making you want to push him even further. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive head, teasing the slit before taking him back into your mouth, your teeth lightly grazing the underside.

Seungcheol's grip on your hair tightened as you deep-throated him, his hips bucking in response. His moans grew louder, echoing through the deserted gym. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by his ragged breathing. You could feel his cock twitch and pulse in your mouth, a sign that he was close.

The salty taste of his pre-cum grew stronger as you sucked and licked, your hand moving in tandem with your mouth. You could see the muscles in his thighs tightening as he fought the urge to come. It was a power play you both enjoyed, you pushing him to the edge and watching him struggle to hold back.

Seungcheol's hands tightened around your hair, his knuckles turning white as you worked him over. The head of his cock hit the back of your throat with every stroke, and you felt a thrill of satisfaction knowing how much he enjoyed it.

As you worked him with your mouth, one hand still stroking him, while the other slid up his thigh, feeling the muscles quiver beneath your touch.

Seungcheol's eyes locked onto yours, a silent plea for you to keep going.

You moaned around him, the vibrations adding to his pleasure as you increased your pace. His hips began to move in time with your mouth, his cock sliding in and out of your wet lips. You felt the tension in his body build again, his muscles coiling tighter and tighter. His breaths grew shallower, his chest heaving as he neared climax.

Seungcheol's body stiffened, and his breaths grew erratic as he approached the edge. You could feel his cock starting to swell in your mouth, his precum flowing more freely, he was close you wanted to watch him come apart in your hands.

You pulled back slightly, letting just the tip rest on your tongue, teasing him mercilessly. His eyes snapped open, meeting yours, and you could see the desperation in them.

The sound of his pleasure filled the empty gym, bouncing off the walls and echoing back to you. You felt a thrill of power knowing that you were the one causing this strong, in-control man to lose his composure.

"Please, baby," he panted, his voice strained. "don't do this to me"

With a wicked smile, you took him in again, sucking harder and faster.

You didn't stop, the vibrations from his voice adding to the delicious tension building in your own body. You could feel your own arousal seeping through your gym shorts, the fabric growing damp as your pussy ached for his touch.

With a final, desperate thrust, Seungcheol pulled out of your mouth, his cock bobbing in front of your face. "I'm going to cum," he warned, his voice a low growl. You nodded eagerly, your eyes never leaving his. You leaned back slightly, tilting your head back, giving him the perfect view of your tits as you waited.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, his voice strangled with pleasure. His legs quivered, and his abs clenched as you swirled your tongue around the head of his cock. "feels so good"

Seungcheol's hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it rapidly. With a loud groan, he came, thick ropes of cum shooting out and landing on your chest. The warmth of it made you gasp, your nipples tightening in response. You gasped as he painted your tits with his release, the sticky liquid coating your skin.

You sat back on your heels, watching the last of his orgasm pulse through him. His breathing was harsh, his body shaking with the aftermath of pleasure. You reached up with a trembling hand and touched the sticky mess on your chest, bringing your finger to your lips and tasting his release. The salty taste made your eyes roll back, and you couldn't help but moan.

"Fuck, baby," Seungcheol breathed, as he watched you lick your finger clean. The sight of you tasting him was too much for his still-sensitive cock, and it twitched with renewed interest. He stepped closer, his chest heaving with each breath, and you felt the heat of his body envelop you once again.

"Let's go home," you murmured, your voice a seductive whisper that sent a shiver down his spine. "I think we've had enough of a workout here."

Seungcheol's eyes widened with surprise, but the hunger in his gaze didn't fade. He took a deep breath, trying to compose himself as he took in the sight of you on your knees, your chest covered in his cum.

"You're insatiable," he murmured, a hint of awe in his voice. "But if that's what you want..." He stepped back, letting his cock slap against his stomach as he reached for his shorts, making you bite your lip, You knew you'd both want more once you were home, but for now, you needed a break from the intense atmosphere of the gym.

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

He can't sleep

The room is dim, bathed in the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. The warmth of sleep still clings to you, but something feels off. You shift, reaching out toward Simon’s side of the bed - only to find it empty.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness. He’s there, sitting at the edge of the bed, his back to you, broad shoulders tense and rigid. The air feels heavier, charged with something unspoken.

You don’t call out to him right away. Instead, you watch for a moment, taking in the way his hands are clasped together, his head slightly bowed. He’s deep in thought, lost in something heavy.

Slowly, you push the covers back and crawl toward him, the cool air brushing against your skin. Your fingers touch his back, tracing along his spine, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch.

“Simon?” Your voice is soft, hesitant.

He doesn’t flinch, but you feel the way his muscles tighten beneath your touch. A slow exhale leaves him, almost as if he’s trying to steady himself.

“Go back to sleep, love,” he murmurs, but his voice is off - low, strained.

You don’t listen. Instead, you move closer, pressing your cheek against his bare back, your arms circling around him from behind. His body is warm, solid beneath your touch, but there’s a distance in him that you don’t like.

“You’re awake,” you whisper against his skin. “And you’re not here.”

A heavy silence settles between you before he finally speaks. “Mission went bad.” His voice is rough, edged with something deeper. “Could’ve gone worse.”

You know better than to push for details- if he wants to tell you, he will. But right now, it’s not about the mission. It’s about this - whatever storm is brewing inside him.

Your hands move over his chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You press a soft kiss to the curve of his shoulder. “You’re home,” you remind him gently. “You’re here.”

Simon is still for a moment. Then, suddenly, his hands come up, gripping yours tightly against his chest. Not pulling them away - holding. Like he needs to feel you, needs to ground himself.

Then, he turns.

In a blur of motion, you’re beneath him, your back against the mattress, his body caging yours in. His weight presses into you, solid and heavy, pinning you there. His eyes are dark, unreadable, but you know that look - the quiet storm, the unspoken battle raging inside him.

His fingers trail up your thigh, slow, deliberate. Possessive. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice is low, almost a growl. “You’re the only thing that keeps me sane. The only thing that makes this life worth coming back to.”

Your breath catches as his grip tightens slightly, his body pressing closer, the heat of him sinking into you. His lips brush against your jaw, down to your neck, lingering there as he exhales shakily.

“I almost didn’t make it back to you,” he murmurs. “And that thought? It fucking destroys me.”

You feel the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. You reach up, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer.

“But you did,” you whisper. “You did make it back.”

His lips find yours then, but it’s not just a kiss. It’s desperate, consuming - like he needs to remind himself that you’re real, that you’re his.

And tonight, you let him.

Tonight, you remind him that he’s yours, too.

~~~~~~

The first thing you feel when you wake up is him.

Simon’s body is wrapped around yours, solid and warm, his arm draped over your waist, holding you close. His face is buried against the back of your neck, his breath slow and steady, ghosting over your skin.

He’s still here.

After last night - after the way he took you, claimed you, like he needed to drown in you just to stay afloat - you weren’t sure if he’d be gone by morning. Sometimes, when the weight of his past gets too heavy, he disappears into himself. But this time… he stayed.

You shift slightly beneath him, and his hold tightens instinctively, his fingers digging into your hip.

“Don’t,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep.

You smile softly, turning in his arms to face him. His eyes are still closed, but you can tell he’s awake now. The tension from last night has faded slightly, but there’s still something lingering behind those dark lashes.

“Not even to get up?” you tease lightly, brushing your fingers over the rough stubble on his jaw.

“No.” His voice is rough, his grip firm. “Not yet.”

You exhale softly, pressing your palm against his chest. His heart is steady beneath your touch, strong. Alive.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know.”

His eyes finally open then - half-lidded, still heavy with sleep, but intense. His gaze locks onto yours, like he’s searching for something, like he’s making sure you’re still real.

“I know.” He lifts his hand, brushing his thumb over your lips before cupping your jaw. “But I need you here.”

There’s something raw in his voice, something that makes your chest tighten.

“You have me,” you whisper. “Always.”

Simon doesn’t answer - not with words. Instead, he pulls you against him, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath mingling with yours. His grip softens, but he still holds you close, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on your back.

For once, he doesn’t need control. He just needs you.

And you give him exactly that.

[strawberry-nugget]

Im a sucker for angsty fwb Bakugo and messy feelings.

!! Major spoilers for the manga btw !!

The two of you almost never meet like that. It’s almost pushing it to ten times a year in a never ending circle of non commitment and broken promises, words that are only exchanged during intimacy that none of you can’t help but utter and trutfully tonight shouldn’t have been different.

But he agreed to let you stay at his place for the night—you think it’s because he doesn’t want to drive you home and you settle on the couch, in a corner, not even wanting to wrap yourself up in a blanket. He takes none of it, preaching about how he’s not going to let you crash on the couch, that you can sleep with him in his bed.

As you’re given a change of clothes to sleep in and a toothbrush, you avoid looking right into his face. 

You know better than anyone why he doesn’t want to commit to you, he doesn’t want you to really see him, he’d rather shut himself away from you. You’re not someone he considers an equal, you’ll never even be close to leveling up with him. You know he hates that about you. That you’re weak. That you gave up on being a hero after the war because of everything that happened.

“Bathe and we can sleep” he says and he gives you a towel and a pair of his boxers.

He already had his shower, he already smells like that orange blossom shower gel and bitter almond shampoo that he has, he already smells like clean laundry and you reek of sinful non committal, casual sex.

You enter the shower and the water running is so hot that it could scorch your skin. You like it that way, feeling the water pierce like fire needles through your skin, stripping away everything in its collision with flesh. 

You try not to burst into tears— he’d think it’s bad manners, lecture you for it and you’re not in the mood for any of it. It’s overwhelming  and self distracting to think of him that way— your therapist says that you should make an effort to understand him and you really do, you do understand why he acts like he does but it doesn’t leave you with anything to do about it. 

You just want to go home, in your clothes, in your bed. The feeling in your heart is unbearable.

But your therapist has repeatedly told you not to sweep the problem under the rug; just talk to him. Don’t just sit in the comfort of the scent of his shower gel and his clothes. Confront him. Tell him you love him and that you’ll stick by his side no matter what.

And it all sounds perfect in theory. Really, it does. Except for the part where you can’t even look at him.

When you look at him, even almost ten years later all you can see is his lifeless fucking body laying under Best Jeanists hands.

So Katsuki knows better than anyone why you can’t accept him, why you can’t commit to him and it drives him absolutely insane.

He is always clothed around you, during sex, during coffee dates to catch up; he puts in the most exquisite effort to avoid showing you his scars. 

And when he can’t just hide the one on his face, you respond by not even looking him in the eye. That, as a fact, pains him more than anything. 

Frankly, he doesn’t think he’s strong enough to bear it.

But tonight— tonight he’s gonna do it — he’s gonna tell you that he loves you. And then his own feelings will be your problem.

When he hears the shower stop running, he sits on the edge of his bed, one leg bouncing in anticipation; is tonight the right time? Should he do it? And if not now then when? Can he really just let you slip away, or will his confession make you force yourself to be with someone you can’t even look at.

Why are the two of you even involved at all if you think he is so repulsive?

The bedroom door creaks open before he has time to actually process a sequence of words to tell you— and you step out, your hair damp, clinging to your neck in heavy strands. His shirt swallows you whole, draping over your frame, and his boxers sit awkwardly on your hips, a poor attempt at comfort that neither of you will acknowledge. You still don’t look at him.

Of course, you fucking don’t.

Katsuki clenches his jaw. His leg keeps bouncing—until he forces it still, pressing his palm hard against his knee. He’s getting sick of this. Sick of watching you shrink into yourself, sick of the way you refuse to meet his gaze, sick of the ghosts that sit between you, molding the shape of your relationship into something that barely resembles one.

You tug at the seams of his T-shirt to hide the scars on your neck and the ones on your stomach and torso sit hidden, snuggly, underneath the cloth of it.

He knows what you’re doing because unlike you, he is looking at you.

“…Come here,” he mutters, voice gruff, barely above a whisper.

You hesitate. You fucking hesitate. But he wants to kiss you. He wants to sit you on his lap and kiss your lips, your neck, your chest. He wants to kiss your scars, no matter the fact that they’re spread all over your body.

This is the first and most major difference between the two of you and that’s what pisses him off the most. He accepts parts of you you don’t accept about yourself or him.

But eventually, you move, each step slow, reluctant, as if walking toward him is some great act of suffering. You sit on the bed—on the very edge of it, like you’re prepared to run, not on his lap like he wants.

You play out of the premeditated scenario he’s crafted in his head for this moment.

Katsuki feels something inside him snap.

His fingers twitch, nails digging into his palm, the words crawling up his throat like acid, burning to be let out.

You won’t even look at him.

And yet—you still come back to him, time and time again, you come back.

“Sit on my lap” he says, patting on his thighs with one hand, coaxing yours with his other. “Want you close so we can talk”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer, just follow his lead and hover your legs over his, as you crawl your way onto his lap.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” he asks, his voice quiet, sharp and cutting through the thick silence between you. 

“M not doing anything” you mutter in response.

“That’s the problem”

Yet, he cradles you, the problem, into his arms, big, strong biceps pressing you close to him, holding your head right into his chest. 

His heartbeat is loud— too loud for someone who once died, too real. Technically there’s nothing you should be scared of, he’s here with you, holding you and all you want to do is run away. Something inside you screams at you to run home, that this isn’t real. That he died and wasn’t saved, that you’re imagining all this.

But right underneath his shirt is his scar. And the ones on his forearm are visible now that he’s wearing a T-shirt.

“Should I go ahead and laser remove the scars?” Katsuki asks while the two of snuggle against each other.

“Huh? Why?”

“Cause ya don’t like looking at em, I’ve noticed. So would you look at me then?!”

Your stomach twists at the mention of the words, even if they’re so soft spoken and without thinking, your eyes dart down—just for a second—before flicking away again. Just the thought of it, the way the skin is raised and uneven, makes your throat tighten.

You swallow hard, fingers gripping the edge of his shirt. His fingers trace circles on the skin over the band of your -his- boxers.

“That’s not—” You take a slow breath, trying to steady yourself. “I just…”

“You just think im ugly and you’d rather leave, that’s what you want to say isn’t it?”

“I don’t handle… that kind of stuff well.” You don’t say the word. You don’t want to. Just thinking about it makes your skin crawl. “It makes me feel sick to my stomach. And thinking about how you got them—” Your voice catches, and you look down again “It’s too much.”

Silence.

Then, Katsuki scoffs, but it’s weak. “Figures.”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

“Real fuckin’ great, huh?” He curses “I wanna tell you that I fucking love you and you’re here telling me I make you sick— what the fuck is wrong with me?”

You break free from his bear-like hug, only to stare at him, wide-eyed, heart hammering. You hate seeing him like this—hunched slightly, fists clenched, looking at his reflection in your eyes like it’s something disgusting. Like he’s something disgusting.

He isn’t though, he’s strong, he’s beautiful, he’s anything and everything you can’t lose. Nobody ever tells him, you don’t either, you just act like he’s made of glass and then leave as if he can’t or won’t shutter.

He just told you he loves you.

You love him too. You’re in love with him. 

Does he even want to hear it after the shit you just spurt at him?

You grab at his face like it's instinct and press your nose to his, locking your eyes into his, breath hitched in the back of your throat. You avoid making any noise, scared that you’re going to ruin this by just existing. 

If it’s been so many years and he’s still alive, you shouldn’t patronise his feelings because of your own trauma.

He’s here. He’s alive and he loves you and the pad of your thumb brushes over the scar on his cheek.

Your stomach still churns at the thought of his injury, but you force yourself to step forward, reaching out carefully. “Katsuki.”

Silence. 

It’s just like he wanted. His love for you is your own problem now. He can only beat and scar himself further over the fact that he said ‘I love you’ like a curse. 

Your stomach twists for a completely different reason now. “Katsuki, I love you too.”

Your lips brush against his, softly. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even stop you. 

He wants to kiss you. Lips, skin, soul. Everything that is yours he wants to put his lips on.

And he does. 

His mind goes blank the moment your lips touch his. It’s like a surge of electricity floods his body, short-circuiting everything logical, everything that was screaming at him to hold back, to keep his mouth shut, to not want this more than he already does.

But he does want this. He always has.

Your lips move against his—hesitant at first, unsure, like you’re still trying to convince yourself this is okay. That he’s okay. And that hesitation guts him. It rips through his chest in ways that no explosion ever could, because it reminds him of the truth:

You love him. 

You’re not afraid to keep your eyes open and he isn’t afraid to keep his eyes open too.

The two of you probably look like lunatics, kissing with your eyes open, but it’s only because you can’t get enough, it’s never enough, even when you kiss just to have sex it’s not enough.

Katsuki wants to melt into you, he wants to disintegrate into one person with you. He feels like his heart will combust— no, he fears that his heart will combust and he’ll leave you scarred forever.

But he’s done that once already.

His fingers tighten their grip on your waist, not enough to hurt, but enough to ground himself. You’re warm. Real. Sitting right here, on his lap, wrapped up in his clothes, wrapped up in him. It’s a fucking miracle.

He kisses you deeper, almost desperately, parting his lips to taste more, feel more, take more. Your hands are still on his face, trembling slightly, but you don’t pull away. Not yet. And he clings to that like a dying man, pouring everything he can’t say into the way he mouths at you, the way his tongue flicks against yours, the way he tilts his head just right to fit against you perfectly.

His heart is pounding—too fast, too loud. He wonders if you can feel it, if you notice just how much he’s shaking. Because Katsuki does not tremble. Never. He does not doubt himself. He does not need.

Except with you.

With you, he’s terrified.

He’s scared you’ll push him away after this, that you’ll realize just how broken he really is, that loving him is more trouble than it’s worth. He’s scared you’ll come to your senses and run.

Because deep inside he’s convinced himself you’ve been keeping your distance because you think he’s ugly. Disgusting. A byproduct of a rotten hero society.

So he kisses you like he can keep you here. Right in his arms. Like he can erase all your doubts, all your hesitations, all your pain. He kisses you like an apology, a plea, a confession—because maybe it is all of those things. 

Maybe it’s all of these things.

And when you don’t stop him,when your hands slide into his hair, pulling him closer, keeping him right here in your arms, he swears he could cry like a newborn.

“I know it’s stupid,” you say, breaking the kiss, only for him to whine against your lips, “but I can’t stop feeling like if I look too long, if I think too hard about it, it’ll happen again. I— I get panic attacks for hours when I remember the way you laid there, lifeless. Katsuki I don’t ever want to see that again. Im scared.” 

You don’t have to pull away to continue, you need him as much as he needs you. And so you speak against his lips. “But that doesn’t mean I hate you. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to look at you. I'm scared that if I look at you for too long you’ll stop being real. I wanna be with you always, I want you to be here so bad. All the time.”

Katsuki is silent, staring at you like he doesn’t know what to say. His fingers twitch again before he finally, finally moves, cupping the back of your neck and tugging you against him, sealing your lips in another kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, squeezing your eyes shut as you press your face into him.

His grip is tight, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away from his lap. “I’m here,” he mutters into you, voice soft. You’re not to be fooled with that patchy ass voice he pulls for everyone else “Ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

“But I still hate this scar,” he continues, whispering “Hate what it reminds me of. But if it means I get to stand here with you, get to hold you” He swallows thickly. “Then I’ll keep it.”

Your heart lurches.

A shaky breath leaves your lips, and without thinking, you reach up, gripping his face between your hands again. His skin is warm, slightly rough, chapped by the sudden change of weather, but real.

You don’t look at the scar this time. You don’t have to. Instead, you look at him as a whole; his furrowed brows, his slightly downturned lips, his tired, burning eyes, his blond lashes that you used to make fun of in high school.

It all makes sense now.

His breath stutters. His hands slide down to your waist, gripping you tightly, and before you can say anything else, he crashes his lips onto yours again.

It’s desperate. A little too messy. Like he’s trying to pour every ounce of regret and relief and love into it all at once. You gasp softly against his mouth, your hands tightening around him, and he groans low in his throat, pulling you impossibly closer.

He kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. And you kiss him back just as fiercely, because you need to remind yourself that he is real. He’s not going anywhere but here.

Katsuki’s breath is heavy against your skin, his forehead still pressed to yours, his fingers still gripping you tight. But something shifts. It’s something sharp, electric, crackling in the space between you.

He’s teetering on the edge of restraint.

Your own breath shudders as he exhales, hot and uneven. You’re still pressed against his chest, against the scar that used to make your stomach twist, but right now, all you can feel is him.

And then, he moves.

In a blur of motion, Katsuki grabs your thighs and yanks you, throwing you and himself into the bed before you can even process it. You gasp, hands flying up to steady yourself against his shoulders, but he doesn’t give you a second to think.

His mouth crashes against yours, hot and desperate, nothing like before. The trembling kisses from earlier can’t even compare to this one. This one is feral.

Like he’s been waiting for this moment to break and go berserk.

A muffled sound escapes you as his hands roam, gripping, squeezing, pulling you closer like there’s still too much distance between you. His fingers dig into your thighs, sliding up under your shirt, palms rough and searing against your skin.

You barely have time to process before he’s tilting his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping against yours in a way that makes your stomach twist and turn.

He groans, low and hungry, and the sound sends a sharp, molten heat straight through you. Katsuki has always been intense, but this—this is something else.

This is unrestrained.

This is him. Losing control. And you’re the cause.

His hands move again, gripping the hem of your shirt and tugging it upward, fingers brushing over your ribs. His lips break from yours just long enough to drag hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone—teeth scraping, tongue soothing, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, breathless, gasping, barely able to keep up with the way he’s touching you like a starved man.

He doesn’t just kiss you any more. He’s devouring you whole.

His breathing is ragged, his pupils blown wide, his lips red and swollen. His hands are still on you, still gripping you tight, but he doesn’t move or push any further. He just looks at you, like he could burn you, melt you into goo with his gaze.

And then he pleads, “Say it again?”

Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me and it’ll all stop being an amalgamation of emotions.

The unspoken words hang between you and all you can do is lay there, on your side, and watch him watch you like you’re a rough diamond in the making.

You don’t deny him of anything. You speak the words as if your life depends on them.

“I'm in love with you”

He tightens his arms around you, pressing you so close that it’s almost suffocating but he can’t help it. He needs you like this, needs to feel the warmth of your body, the steady rise and fall of your chest, the proof that you’re being for real as it’s written on your palpitating heart. That this isn’t some cruel dream that’ll slip between his fingers the second he wakes up.

His lips ghost over yours again, desperate, frantic. His breath is ragged, shaky, and his hands roam—your back, your sides, the dip of your waist—like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, burn the shape of you into his palms.

“Say it again,” he hears himself crack as he speaks, and he hates how wrecked his voice sounds, how utterly pathetic he must seem right now. But he doesn’t care. He needs to hear it.

You hesitate, and that hesitation guts him. But then your fingers tighten in his hair, your lips brush against his cheek, over the scar he thought you couldn’t bear to look at.

You do something he never, not in a million years, could even allow himself to imagine. You kiss his scar.

And right now he doesn’t even think he can see anymore.

“I love you.”

He lets out a shaky breath, forehead dropping to your shoulder. His heart is a fucking mess, erratic, wild. His grip on you tightens, like if he just holds on hard enough, he can keep you here forever.

Katsuki has never begged for anything in his life, but if you tried to leave now, he thinks he would. He knows he would. On his knees, sprawled all over the floor if he had to.

“Again” he exhales, sharply through his nose “I swear,” he breathes, voice rough and full of desperation “I’ll die if you don’t”

Your breath catches, and he feels it, the way you go still in his arms.

“Don’t say that,” you whisper, voice barely audible.

He presses his lips to your temple, your cheek, your jaw. It’s feverish, aching, his heart is going to give up, caught between his greediness and insecurity. “I don’t wanna live in a world where you don’t love me back, so just say it”

It’s pathetic. Weak. Not the kind of thing he would ever say out loud. 

“I love you I love you I love you”

The moment the words leave your lips, the second you tell him you love him again, something in him absolutely breaks. He grabs your face with both hands, fingers digging into your cheeks, thumbs tracing over the curves of your jaw like he’s holding something fragile. Something irreplaceable.

Then he ruins you.

His lips crash into yours again, rough, needy, swallowing every breath, every little sound you make. But it isn’t enough. It’s never going to be enough.

He kisses your lips, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, your jaw. He presses frantic, open-mouthed kisses down your face like he’s starving—like he’s been denied of you for too long and now he’ll die if he doesn’t get to taste all of you.

“Love you,” he mutters between kisses, like the words are spilling out of him against his will. His lips drag over your nose, down your chin, along the curve of your cheekbone. “Love you, fuck—love you so much—”

He’s shaking. He can feel it in his hands, in the way his breath stutters against your skin. His lips find your temple, pressing there like a prayer, like if he kisses hard enough, you’ll understand—really understand—just how much he needs you.

He can’t stop.

He kisses the embers of the scar on your neck, then your forehead, then both of your eyelids like he’s blessing you. Then again, your cheekbones, your jaw, the corner of your mouth again—over and over, like he’s worshiping every single inch of you.

His hands are everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding up your back, tangling in your hair, holding you onto him for dear life.

When he pulls back, his pupils are blown wide, his breath ragged. “Tell me you’re mine,” he rasps, voice thick with something desperate, something wrecked. “We’re together after this, right? No more fucking sex on the low and then I don’t get to see you for god knows how long”

"Say you're stayin’," he mutters, voice raw. His fingers slip under the hem of his own shirt you’re wearing, pressing against your bare waist. His lips move to your ear, voice nothing more than a plea. "Tell me you’re not leavin’ me, baby."

Your heart clenches at the way his voice wavers, the way he sounds like he's afraid—like the very idea of you leaving is enough to unravel him completely.

“I’m staying,” you breathe, and before you can even finish saying it, his lips crash into yours again, cutting off whatever air was left in your lungs.

His eyes rake over you, wild and dark and fiery red and shaky, lips swollen and shiny from kissing you too hard. His hands are shaking as they run down your sides, like he’s never touched you before. 

“You’re mine,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you, as if he’s finally letting himself believe it. His hands slide under your shirt, palms pressing flat against your stomach, up your ribs, his thumbs grazing the underside of your breasts. He swallows hard. “Mine.”

His kiss is messy, desperate, like he’s trying to fuse himself to you. Like he wants to crawl inside your skin and live there. And maybe he does. Maybe that’s the only way he’ll ever feel close enough to you.

“Katsuki” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and sweet.

“Fuck,” he rasps against your skin, voice wrecked, breath hot. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Your head is spinning, body burning beneath his touch, every nerve alight. “Then take it,” you whisper, nails digging into his shoulders.

His breath stutters and he hisses.

A growl rumbles in his chest as he flips you, pressing you into the mattress before climbing over you, caging you in with his body. His hands are everywhere—gripping your thighs, sliding up your waist, pinning you in place like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

He dips down, biting at your collarbone, at the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, dragging his teeth over your pulse before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. A reminder. A claim. One he wasn’t allowed to make until seconds earlier.

You’re his to have.

You gasp, arching into him, and he groans at the way you react, at the way you’re coming undone beneath him.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mutters against your skin, lips trailing lower. “All mine.”

His words send a sharp, electric jolt through you, heat pooling low in your stomach.

Your hands roam his body in return, tracing the hard lines of his muscles, feeling the way he shudders beneath your touch. When your fingers ghost over the scar on his chest, he stiffens for just a moment—then exhales shakily, like he’s letting you in.

He wants you to touch it. To feel that he’s here. That he’s alive. This is a reminder too.

You press your palm flat against it, right over his heart, and his breath shudders. His gaze snaps up to yours, pupils blown, expression dark and desperate.

Katsuki is fire—hot and consuming, searing through every inch of you, making it impossible to think of anything but him. And he’s explosion too, nuclear and annihilating, swiping away every ember of fear you could feel at this moment.

And right now, you’re ready to burn and get blown into teeny tiny pieces.

~All rights reserved: @/strawberry-nugget, 2025. Please do not copy, over write or steal my work.

Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated equally

[illusionaryrambler]

Ezekiel walks through the woods, trying to make as much noise as possible while arriving to a small clearing surrounded by mushrooms. You see, he wasn’t trying to be secretive. No. If anything he wanted to be noticed.

Only the luckiest are looked at, though Ezekiel wouldn’t consider himself that in the slightest. More like a privilege to be in the presence of a helpful annoyance. He clears his throat and begins to create as much noise as humanly possible(Ezekiel was only human after all).

“OH BOY, IT WOULD SURE SUCK IF THE FAE TOOK ME!”, cried the man, banging pots and pans together in the middle of the circle of mushrooms, “A TRAGEDY! A HORRIBLE THING! AN…ATROCITY!”, Ezekiel most likely looked(and sounded) hysterical at the moment. Desperate times call for desperate measures…or so they say.

“You know,” a coy, dreamy voice announced, “you don’t have to do this every time you want to gain my attention. Though, I must say, this is quite entertaining. Better than that weird stationary object that plays moving pictures.”

Ezekiel turns around and glares, “You’ve been missing for weeks! How else was I supposed to get you to listen? Your mother has been worried sick!”

“Oh, wee lamb, I’m sorry you had to endure her lecturing. How might I repay you?”

“By giving me back my sanity,” Ezekiel huffs and mutters, “and maybe help me with my astronomy homework.”

“It amazes me how little you know about the night sky even though you stare up at it practically every night.”

“We can’t all be magical, Adonis.”

“Of course, darling,” Adonis chuckles softly, “Now, what about this homework confuses your small, human brain?”

Ezekiel rolls his eyes and hands over the sheet of paper(filled with nonsense if he had any say in it), and Adonis squints at the blasted thing before scowling,

“What in Mother Nature’s tongue is this?!”

this prompt was super fun!! these are my characters, Ezekiel and Adonis. they’re idiots but i love them. there will be torturing of them soon(because i just can’t NOT torture them a little bit).

they just fit so well with this prompt, so i just had to write a little snippet of them for this.

"OH BOY, IT WOULD SURE SUCK IF THE FAE TOOK ME!" cried the man banging pots and pans together in the middle of a mushroom circle.

[earlgreylatte]

Nicknames and Pet Names

Hal Jordan: Listen, we all know he’s a ‘babe’ kind of guy, it’s an inherent part of his vocabulary. Will literally loudly call out ‘babe’ across the grocery store, he’s so annoying. And of course, he’ll make up a nickname uniquely for you, based on something like one of your hobbies or habits. If you’re a Blue Lantern, you’re ’blueberry’. Probably has called you ‘nightlight’ or ‘glowstick’ before. (Internalized Lantern hate…)

Barry Allen: ‘Honey’. When you wake up, when he’s leaving home or coming back, during sex, he will be calling you ‘honey’ in that affectionate tone, blue eyes soft and fond. So clear to literally everyone that he’s wrapped around your finger. The first thing you see in the morning is him bathed in sunlight while whispering ‘honey’ as he gently rouses you from your sleep. ‘Darling’ or ‘love’ are also likely to leave his lips around you.

Booster Gold: Definitely comes up with something based on your name, shortening it or making it cutesy, like adding ‘bear’ or ‘poo’ to end of your name. Definitely does it to irritate or embarrass you. His usual nickname for you will probably be the first letter or syllable of your name. He also likes your name just fine, the type to say it over and over to get your attention. You two probably call each other ‘babygirl’.

Ted Kord: To match the whole insect theme, I can definitely see him calling you ‘ladybug’ or ‘mayfly’. Also shortens your name to the first letter or syllable. To others, I can see him referring to you as something mushy like ‘light of his life’ just to make others cringe. If you have a hero history too, then he’ll definitely have a nickname based on that. You call him ‘Teddy’, of course.

Bruce Wayne: Mostly sticks to your name, but definitely a ‘darling’ guy, especially when he’s trying to calm you down or if he knows he did something to wrong you. As Brucie Wayne, definitely refers to you as ‘his better half’. Known as a ‘wife guy’ on social media.

Dick Grayson: His favourite thing to call you is your name, it’s one of his favourite words, really. Definitely refers to you as ‘beautiful’ and ‘prettygirl/prettyboy’. Definitely refers to you as his (‘my (name)’) and himself as yours.

Jason Todd: I can definitely see him occasionally calling you ‘my dear’ or ‘madam’ in a British accent in lighthearted moments, breaking into laughter when you do. ‘Babe’ in the streets, ‘love’ in the sheets kinda guy. If you’re even a centimetre shorter than him, he will call you ‘munchkin’.

Roy Harper: ‘Sweetheart’ is definitely his go to, but I can also see creating nicknames, such as ‘doe eyes’ or ‘birdie’ based on your traits or behaviour. Depending on your relationship, probably refers to you as ‘momma’ when talking about his household with other people (moms at the school pickup) (‘Lian’s mom actually said—‘)

Wally West: You wonder if he even knows your name sometimes with how many petnames he goes through. ‘Babe’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘sweetie’, ‘love’, ‘his lightning rod’, and he could go on! Makes the times when he does say your name more intimate

Kyle Rayner: Mostly calls you by your name, but he’s also the least likely to date a civilian, having periods where he doesn’t even want to be on Earth, so dating a fellow ring wielder, space traveller, or hero is more likely and will cause him to nickname you based on that (Lantern colour, alias, etc). The type to describe you in an artsy, romantic way to others, comparing you to an azure sky or to stars.

Masterlist

[delilahsturniolo]

— ୨୧ better than me, huh? . . . c.s

in which . . . chris makes you admit and shows you that he’s the only one who can make you feel good.

warnings . . . smutttt, fwb!chris, use of pet names, fingering, oral, (fem!recieving) kissing, degradation, teasing, dom!chris.

written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

★ chris’s lips crashed against yours abruptly, with desperation, with need. he hovered over you as you laid on your back, the two of you passionately making out on his own bed. chris’s lips muffled your soft whines and moans. “tell me bout’ them other guys, mama.” chris murmured against your lips, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip. his grip on your waist tightened, almost painfully. the kiss was anything but gentle, it was as if he was trying to claim you again.

“tell me, what did they do to you? what did they do that i can’t, hm?” chris teased, his hands roaming your body as his lips began trailing down your body. you just wanted to piss him off for fun. “they were better than you.” you spoke, your voice defiant but also a tiny bit shaky. you saw a flash of jealousy, and even anger in chris’s blue eyes. “oh yeah? better than me, huh? what was so good about hookin’ up with other guys? what’d they do?” chris’s hand palmed your drenched panties, making you squirm with need.

you and chris didn’t have an established relationship, you were just friends who…fucked on the side, and kept everything on the low. you went out to parties, getting with other guys to help you try and forget about chris, to help you get over him and move on. but nothing fucking worked, of course. no one made you feel the way chris did. he knew all your sensitive parts, where and how to touch you, what really turned you on. no one else could do that but chris. and right now, he needed to prove that to you.

“they—mmmh—“ you couldn’t even answer because of how much he was absolutely teasing you, it was tearing you apart. but fuck, he felt so good. you needed him so badly, you just refused to admit that to him. “mm..you ain’t answerin’ me mama.” chris whispered darkly, slowly peeling your laced panties off of you. chris’s thumb pressed against your aroused clit, rubbing tight circles. you moaned in response, a gasp escaping your parted lips. “did they touch you like this, hm?” chris teased, sliding a finger between your folds, his finger playing with your wetness.

“look at you.” chris scoffed. “already so worked up? it’s embarrassing, really.” chris rolled his eyes, sliding another finger into you and beginning to pump both of them in and out of you, his hand immediately went over to your mouth as your moans became louder, more desperate. “y’gonna stop lyin’ to me yet? or am i gonna have to shut you up myself, hm?” chris pulled his fingers out of you, sucking them clean with a loud pop in his mouth. he parted your legs again as you attempted to close them. “fuck…i’m not lying!” you said as chris removed his hand from your mouth.

“yeah? bet you were thinkin’ bout me when those other stupid guys fucked ya, bet you almost moaned my name, didn’t you mama?” chris’s eyes were filled with desire, and his voice was soft with mockery. you couldn’t even admit it, because you knew he was right, you were thinking about him the entire time, it was hard to forget about him. “p—please..” you moaned in desperation. suddenly, chris leaned down, his head in between your legs as his tongue flicked on your clit. you gasped, hearing chris’s muffled voice in between your thighs.

“please what ma? you gonna admit this pussy is mine? that i’m the only one that can make you feel this good? I ain’t givin’ you what you want until you admit it. i got ways to make you talk.” chris kissed your inner thighs, still teasing you. he really wasn’t gonna let you behavior slide. “tell me, cmon…who’s pussy is this?” chris taunted, kissing your swollen clit, making your breath hitch. “y—yours..all yours..” you spoke shakily, chris smirking with satisfaction as you confessed this.

chris flipped you over in one effortless motion, your ass was facing toward him, your head burying in the pillow as he fiddled with his belt, removing his boxers to expose his hard length. his hand went onto your lower back, causing you to arch as he lined his cock up with your entrance. with absolutely no warning, chris slammed into you mercilessly, his hand coming up to the back of your head, pushing it down into the pillos, but not too hard, just to muffle your screams of pleasure.

“mmm, you like that huh? naughty fuckin’ girl…thinkin’ you can go around…messin’ with other guys to try and forget about me? it’s jus’ not possible.” chris thrusted into you, each time going deeper and deeper. “shit—oh my god… chris..” you moaned, turning your head to the side so your face wasn’t directly in the pillow. “yeah? close?” chris asked, knowing damn well you were falling apart. “mhmm..” you whined in response. chris groaned, your pussy felt so fucking good around him, he could do this forever.

“chris…gonna cum…” your mouth remained slightly ajar, chris continued pounding into you, feeling himself getting close as well. “cum f’me love.” chris whispered, leaning down to kiss your lower back. you immediately released upon those words, triggering chris’s release as well. chris pulled out of you, grabbing your waist and turning you over on your back again, looking down at your fucked out expression as he kneeled in between your legs.

“s’pretty like this..” chris mumbled, his hands going on either sides of your head on the sheets trapping you in as his lips delicately pressed against yours once more, silencing your soft whines. his tongue slid into your mouth as your hand tangled up into his hair, trying to taste every bit of him, chris’s hips slightly grinded against you as the both of you made out. chris had to make sure you knew that he was all yours, and you were all his

and chris was absolutely right, no one could make you fall apart the way he did.

© delilahsturniolo do not copy, re use, or modify any of my works.

taglist

[twistedapple624]

Idea for an alternate ending:

Merlin gets Arthur to the lake in time and manage to save him.

They spend the night by the lake just talking, like they have been for the past few days, and realise that neither of them is ready to return to Camelot. For various reasons. They decide to take to the roads instead, just disappear, together.

Eventually their (few remaining) friends start to worry and the queen sends out her knights searching for them. Maybe Gaius points them towards the lake and maybe the knights find a neat pile of Arthurs belongings nearby, like his armour and cape (To heavy to carry and to easy to identify) and just assumes the worst. They knew Arthur was injured, and now presumably dead, but where is Merlin? Perhaps the grief was just to much for him? Perhaps he went home? But Hunith hasn't seen him either.

They are both gone. And life moves on.

Until a few months later when rumors start reaching the castle, about two heroes helping people throughout the realm. A fighter and a sorcerer working together using their skills to take out different threats from low life bandits to magical creatures attacking people.

No one really suspects anythingat first, but Gwen sends out her knights to find these two heroes. To confirm the rumors and if so offer a reward for their bravery. And maybe see if they would be willing to join forces?

It's not until Sir Leon hears a description of the two that he start to wonder.. A blond sword fighter with blue eyes and a regal nose who talks like a noble? A dark haired sorcerer also with blue eyes and a wide infectious smile? And they are constantly bickering and insulting each other? It couldn't be? Could it?

Trying not to get his hopes up Leon still doubles the search efforts.

No matter what they do though the knights seems to always be one step behind the two. Always gone before the knights reach the village or town they just saved. Missed them by a few days, a few hours down to mere minutes.

Somewhere along the way Leon hears about The Kiss. Told by an eye witness who saw the blond grab the warlock by the front of his tunic, haul him in and kiss him fiercely for almost getting himself killed (again, the idiot <- Arthurs note).

And suddenly things are making alot more sense. Why they never came back. Why they are staying away and don't want to be found.

He never tells Gwen. Or anyone. But that is the day Leon starts pulling back, cutting down on the search. Telling everyone it's not worth it, it has been over a year ( several years?) and there are more important things for the knights of Camelot to do then chasing ghosts. It's better if people start moving on with their lives instead. They are not coming back.

An undecided amount of time later Leon finds himself drinking alone in some random tavern in some random town, in an unknown part of the kingdom. When two cloaked strangers sit down uninvited at his table. And as he looks up their hoods fall back to reveal two very familiar and very dear faces.

Merlin grins widely. 'We heard you were looking for us?'