#As you can see I changed the brush I usually use

[inseobts]

Fool

law x reader

you meet your former captain again after months, after having walked away from that unrequited feeling, not knowing that, in reality, he loved you too (part 1 - if only she knew but you can read and enjoy this even without reading the other one)

inspired by the song: fool by winner

a/n: uhm idk if this sucks but I did it based on my fav group's music so be nice eheh (ฅ́ ˘ฅ̀)♡ also I firstly made it about zoro but then I got reminded of an old request (if only she knew) so I turned it into a sequel for law.

words count: 3.5k

tags: angst, argument, regrets from law

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The crowded port buzzes with life, laughter, and the scent of grilled seafood wafting through the air. You weren’t expecting to run into them, into him. But fate, it seems, has a cruel sense of humor.

The Heart Pirates.

You spot them before they see you, their familiar ship docked near the edge of the harbor. For a second, you consider turning around, walking away before anyone notices. But then a loud, familiar voice cuts through the air.

"Hey—! No way! It's you!" Penguin’s excited shout freezes you in place, and in an instant, all eyes are on you. The crew’s expressions shift from shock to joy, and before you know it, you’re being pulled into warm greetings, pats on the back, and teasing complaints about how long it’s been.

But one pair of eyes lingers on you longer than the rest. Law stands at the back, arms crossed, his usual unreadable expression in place. But there’s something there, a flicker of something in his golden gaze that you can’t quite place.

The tension is broken when Shachi grins "You gotta eat with us today! Just like old times. No excuses."

You hesitate, but your stomach betrays you, growling at the thought of a warm meal. And the truth is… you missed them. More than you’d like to admit.

"Fine," you sigh, rolling your eyes "But you’re paying."

The crew erupts in cheers, dragging you toward their ship, the warmth of old friendships making it impossible to say no.

Dinner is chaotic, loud, and full of laughter. The crew fills the space with stories of their latest misadventures, and for a while, it feels like nothing has changed. But beneath it all, you can feel the weight of his gaze on you, the space between you and him.

As the plates pile up and the drinks flow, the crew starts throwing casual questions your way.

“So, how have you been?” Bepo asks, his voice gentle, though his eyes are searching.

Shachi leans in with a knowing smirk “Yeah, how’s life been treating you?”

Their words are light, playful even, but you can hear the unspoken question beneath them. They all know. They knew before you left. They had seen the way you looked at your captain, the feelings you tried so hard to hide.

And they had seen the way he looked at you leaving, even if he never admitted it.

The room may be full of laughter, but there’s an undercurrent of tension, one that only grows when Law remains silent, nursing his drink and watching you from across the table.

Penguin nudges your arm, his grin teasing but his eyes soft “Bet you haven’t found anyone to boss you around like a certain captain of ours.”

You roll your eyes, playing along “Like I’d go looking for that.”

The table erupts in laughter, but there’s a knowing look exchanged between them all. They’re testing the waters, trying to see if your heart still beats for him, but careful not to push too far. And as much as you try to brush off their words, you know the answer. It never stopped.

From the other side of the table, Law exhales sharply, setting down his drink with just a little too much force.

The crew exchanges glances. They’ve been waiting for this. They had hoped that bringing you back, even if just for one night, would finally push the two of you to talk. But as they watch the tension build, they realize they can’t force this. Whatever needs to happen between you and Law can only happen if you’re alone.

Then something happens, maybe an accident, a spilled drink, or just the natural (or so they act like) shifting of the group, but suddenly, you and Law are alone. The noise of the crew fades into the background, leaving only the two of you there.

The setting sun paints the sky in shades of gold and pink as you stand outside the tavern, staring out at the ocean. The breeze tugs at your hair, but you don’t feel it. Your thoughts are elsewhere, tangled in the mess that the crew just made to leave you two alone.

And then Law.

He’s the only thing on your mind right now. He’s the reason your heart feels like it’s being torn in two for months, or even years at this point. You missed him like hell, but the words he said to you, before you left, will never leave your mind…

“Get lost from my sight.”

They echo in your ears, stinging with every memory of just one the moments he made you feel unwanted. He has always been distant, and you always tried to reach out. You tried so hard. But that night, everything in you snapped. You got tired of his anger, his harsh words, they cut deeper than anything you expected.

You turn away, unable to face him again. The tears threaten to spill at the memories, but you fight them back. His words hurt, but it’s more than that. It’s the feeling that something between you is broken now, something that can’t easily be fixed.

He doesn’t speak at first. Just stands there, close but not close enough. You can feel the space between you, thick with unspoken words and regret. Your back remains turned to him, but you don’t have to look to know he’s still standing there, his presence heavy in the air.

Finally, his voice breaks through the silence. It’s softer than you ever remembered, because now there’s something else... regret. You can hear it, and it twists something in your chest.

“Get lost from my sight.”

You don’t turn around. His words still feel like a slap in the face, even though the venom has faded from them. Law’s not speaking to you now. He’s speaking the truth of what he felt in the moment, the words he had let slip too many times in his anger.

“Those cruel words… I spat out without hesitation.” His voice trembles, a small crack breaking through his usual composure “Anyone can see… I was a fool.”

Your heart clenches at his words, but you don’t say anything. What’s there to say? He’s the one who pushed you away, and now, here he is, broken, admitting to it.

You take a deep breath, your throat tight, as you finally turn to face him. His gaze is on the floor, his fists clenched, but you can see the regret in his eyes. It’s raw. It’s real.

“Even if I’m sorry now, nothing changes. I know.” His voice is quieter now, the weight of what he’s said settling between you both “Nothing changes...” he repeats, more to himself than to you, as if trying to accept it.

Law steps closer, and you don’t move. You’re not sure if you want him to come closer. He’s the one who pushed you away, and yet, here he is, still reaching for you in his own way. His voice breaks the silence again.

“It’s okay to swear at me, even that’s not good enough. I just wanna hear your voice. I just wanna hear you talk to me...” His words feel fragile, like he’s hanging on by a thread, and you can feel his desperation in every syllable.

You open your mouth, but no words come out. What is there to say? What can you say after everything that’s happened?

“Fool, stupid. I now know it’s all my fault.” His voice cracks as he says it, the self-loathing dripping through every word “Dummy, idiot. I now know it’s all my fault.” He shakes his head, the weight of his mistakes crushing him “I pushed you away.”

You stand still, watching him, not knowing what to do. He’s broken, you can see that, but can you forgive him so easily? He hurt you so badly that part of you doesn’t know if you’re ready to let him back in.

Law takes another step toward you, this time closer than before, and you instinctively take a small step back. He notices but doesn’t say anything. He seems unsure of everything now.

“I said I was selfish. Only knew myself. I think I’m crazy.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the regret so deep it almost hurts to hear “It’s me who pushed you away.”

The words hit you like a punch. You know he’s not lying. He has been selfish. He’s pushed you away. But hearing him admit it… you want to believe that it’s enough, that his regret is real.

But still, you stay quiet, unsure of how to process the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

He steps even closer now, his eyes searching yours, like he’s begging you to say something, anything.

“I was a fool” His voice falters, and his gaze drops to the ground as he shakes his head “Even if I regret it now, nothing changes, and I know it.”

There it is again, the finality in his voice. He knows the damage is done. He knows you might never look at him the same way again. And that hurts. More than anything.

You feel your heart aching, but you don’t know what to do with it. His regret is clear, but is it enough? Is it enough to fix what he’s broken?

Law reaches out, but stops just short of touching you. His hand hovers in the air for a moment, and then he lets it fall, his shoulders slumping.

“I don’t care if it’s just a short moment. I'm glad I could see you once more… For the last time.”

His voice cracks, and you can feel the desperation in him. He wants something from you, but what? Forgiveness? Understanding?

“You used to dazzle, and now you’re far away. Going through the scattered memories, I long for you every day.” His words are soft now, almost pleading.

You take a shaky breath. His voice, his confession, it all makes you ache, but you still don’t know what to say. You want to reach out, to tell him that it’s okay, that you forgive him. But you’re not sure if you can just let it go that easily. The hurt is still there.

“Yes, I know I’m late. But please... I wish you could just come back as if nothing happened.” He speaks the words as if he’s begging the universe itself to let you come back to him. But you don’t know if you can.

You turn away, not because you want to, but because you don’t know how to respond. His words, his pain, they echo in your mind, but you’re not ready. Not yet.

The silence between you both is deafening. Law stands just a few feet away, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his face still full of regret and confusion. He doesn’t know what else to say. You can see it in his eyes he’s waiting for something, anything from you. His gaze flickers over your face, searching for a sign that you’ll let him in again.

But you can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re not sure if you can.

The world around you feels distant, like everything is happening in a dream, and you’re not sure if you want to wake up.

Law shifts his weight, taking another small step forward. You hear him inhale deeply, the weight of his next words heavy in the air.

“I know I’m late,” he says, voice barely a whisper, but it’s enough to cut through the silence “I know I messed up, and it’s my fault. I was selfish. I only thought about myself. And now… now look at what I’ve done.”

His words are raw, stripped of all his usual bravado. This is the Law you’ve never seen before, vulnerable, lost, and so deeply ashamed.

You feel your chest tighten as his words settle into your bones. The storm inside you rages on. You’re angry. You’re hurt. But you’re also confused. You want to hate him. You want to shout, to tell him how much he’s hurt you. But every time you look at him, every time you hear the sincerity in his voice, it feels like something in you starts to crumble.

“I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean the things I said. I… I was stupid. I didn’t think.” his voice cracks, and you can hear the frustration in his tone “You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve me being so… so careless.”

You stay silent. You can feel the anger rising in your chest, the hurt threatening to swallow you whole, but you can’t say it. Not yet. Not when he’s standing there, looking so torn apart.

Law takes another step closer, his voice trembling with the weight of his words.

“I know I was an idiot. A complete fool. I pushed you away, and now I’m the one who’s paying the price” He’s so close now you can almost feel the heat of his body, but the space between you both feels like a vast ocean. His eyes meet yours, and you can see the depth of his regret, the raw pain that he’s trying to hide “But I can’t stand this. I can’t stand being without you. I need to hear your voice. Please… just give me one more chance.”

His words hit you like a wave, crashing over you with all the force of the emotions you’ve been trying to bury. The storm inside you threatens to explode, and for a moment, you can’t hold it back anymore.

You turn to face him fully, your heart hammering in your chest. His gaze never wavers from yours, his expression pleading, desperate.

“Fool, stupid,” you hear him mutter again, almost to himself “I now know it’s all my fault.” He’s repeating it like some sort of mantra, the guilt weighing him down with every word.

You want to scream at him. You want to throw your anger in his face and tell him how much he’s hurt you, how much you’ve been suffering because of him. But instead, your voice cracks as you finally speak.

“Law…” Your voice is barely a whisper, but it’s enough to get his attention. His eyes lock onto yours, searching, hoping.

“I… I don’t know if I can just forgive you like that,” you say, your voice trembling “You hurt me. You pushed me away without thinking about how I felt. I gave you what you wanted before leaving for good. I gave you your space. All while I was hurting, thinking you hated me. And now you expect me to just forget it?”

Law flinches, the weight of your words hitting him harder than anything else. His face falls, guilt flashing across his features.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even deserve it,” he says quietly, almost to himself “I just… I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I know it’s too late, but I needed to say it. I needed you to know that I was wrong. I’ve always been so focused on myself, on the crew, on work… but you were right there beside me, trying to help me and all I did was pushing you away because of my own pride.”

The sincerity in his words cuts through the tension like a knife. You can see it in his eyes now, the man you’ve known for so long, the captain who’s always carried himself with such confidence, now breaking down in front of you. He’s not just asking for your forgiveness. He’s asking for a chance.

You swallow hard, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You’re torn. Part of you wants to forgive him, to reach out and pull him into your arms and tell him it’s okay, that everything will be fine. But another part of you feels like that would be too easy. Too quick.

Law’s head drops, his shoulders slumping in defeat. His hands fidget at his sides, unable to find comfort in anything. He’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, and it’s clear that he doesn’t know how to fix what’s broken.

“Please,” he whispers again, his voice barely audible “Just… just let me make it right.”

You stand there, torn between the feelings of anger, sadness, and the remnants of the love you’ve always had for him. His words are genuine, but is it enough? You don’t know. You don’t know if anything will be enough to undo the hurt he caused.

But as you look at him, really look at him, you see the pain in his eyes, and you feel the wall inside your heart start to crack.

You can’t undo the past. And maybe it’s too soon to forgive him fully. But you can’t let him keep carrying this weight by himself either.

You take a deep breath, your heart still racing in your chest.

“I don’t know, Law,” you say quietly “I’m not just going to pretend nothing happen.”

Law nods slowly, his expression a mix of regret and relief. He doesn’t speak, but you can see the understanding in his eyes. This is far from over. The road to healing, to forgiveness, will be long and difficult. But for now, this is a start.

“I know,” he whispers, stepping back, giving you space “I’m willing to wait. As long as it takes.”

You nod at him, because maybe that’s enough for now.

The silence between you and Law is thick, heavy with everything that has been said and everything that hasn’t. His eyes are still on you, searching, waiting, but you don’t know if you’re ready to give him a proper answer. Not yet. The emotions swirling inside you are too much, too tangled to sort through in just one moment.

Then, just as you open your mouth to say something the sound of hurried footsteps echoes from the shadows. Before either of you can react, the crew bursts into the room, their faces alight with mischief and unrestrained grins.

“Ahh, finally!” Penguin announces, throwing his arms up dramatically “Took you two long enough.”

Your stomach drops “Wait, what—”

Bepo nods sagely “We were listening the whole time... sorry.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you glance at Law, who pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply “Of course you were...” His voice is flat, but you can hear the underlying exasperation.

Shachi waves a hand dismissively “C’mon, Captain, don’t act like you’re mad. We did you a favor.”

“I didn’t ask for a favor” Law grumbles, crossing his arms.

The crew doesn’t care. Instead, they exchange knowing looks before turning their attention to you.

“So,” Ikkaku starts, leaning in with an eager expression, “does this mean you’re back?”

Your breath catches in your throat “I—”

“I mean, you missed us, right?” Shachi adds, wiggling his eyebrows “And you obviously missed our dear Captain here.”

You shoot him a glare, but the heat creeping up your face betrays you. Law, for his part, looks about two seconds away from kicking them all out, but the crew is relentless.

“Look,” Penguin says, his grin softening into something more genuine, “we just want you to be happy. Both of you.”

Bepo nods again “You belong with us. With him.”

Your heart twists at their words, and you glance at Law, who’s watching you carefully. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something there, hope, uncertainty, a silent question only you can answer.

The room feels impossibly small with all eyes on you, but deep down, you already know what you want. You’ve known all along. This is your family. And Law… Law is the person who has always held your heart, no matter how much pain the journey brought you.

Taking a deep breath, you meet Law’s gaze and finally speak “If you’ll have me… I’d like to stay.”

For the first time that night, Law’s lips twitch into the ghost of a smile “Idiot,” he mutters, but his voice is softer now, tinged with relief “You never had to ask.”

The crew erupts into cheers, celebrating your return like it’s the greatest victory of all. Shachi and Penguin slap Law on the back, while Bepo all but tackles you into a hug. The warmth of their acceptance, their excitement, is overwhelming, but it’s exactly what you needed.

Law doesn’t say anything else, the crew slaps his back more and he loses his balance and is now close enough that your shoulders brush.

Your eyes meet his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. A faint blush dusts both your cheeks as you get lost in the quiet intensity of his gaze, drawn into each other as if the rest of the world has ceased to exist.

The noise in the room gradually dies down as the crew starts noticing, nudging and elbowing each other with smirks and wide grins. One by one, they fall silent, watching as you and Law remain caught in each other’s stare, completely oblivious to everything around you.

Then, just as the moment stretches unbearably long, Shachi clears his throat loudly “Oi, oi, are you two gonna keep making heart eyes at each other or what?”

The spell shatters instantly. You and Law both snap back to reality, faces burning, while the crew bursts into laughter and cheers once more.

Despite the teasing, despite the embarrassment, you can’t stop the small, genuine smile that tugs at your lips. Because in this moment, with Law beside you and your family around you, everything feels right.

You’re home.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 41

(Vil- though not fully Overblotted- still has several visual changes to his coloration and appearance due to the intense presence of blot that had been in his system from his potion. He is able to explain most of it away for those who question him, but those who were present in the classroom when it happened know the truth. They are too loyal and earnest to speak that truth for Vil's sake and the Human's sake.)

Warnings; jealous dragon, fluff and theories, Clay is the only truly aware platonic yandere, Dragon, Harpy, Drider, Vampire bat, hellcat, mention of Cervitaur, mention of Raiju,

~~~~~~~~

"What happened?"

Standing before you- with his eyes wide and his entire body stiff- was a very unhappy and stressed Dragon. Malleus had been trying to keep himself calm with the aid of Lilia, but seeing your exhausted state sent him spiraling. The tell-tale black ink-like coloration at the ends of your fingers, lips, and hair told him you had more than just a brush with blot.

"Blot potion out of control. We're both good now, but we need a snack and some rest. Papa Hades said he would be up with something for us to snack on soon."

"..."

Malleus stood in silence, the tip of his tail flicking angrily and the low roll of thunder sounded in the distance. It often took a moment or two for the Dragon to fully process what was being said to him, and it often took your calmly stated words just a moment longer than most. You had been touched by blot and he was furious to think such a vile liquid could even have a hold on you for seconds, let alone long enough to stain your flesh.

"... Blot potion?"

"Yeah. A bad idea that became a dangerous opponent. It's sealed up now and Papa Hades said he would be dealing with it later. For now, I think Vil and I need a bit of a rest."

The trip back to your dorm had been a long one, or at least it felt so much longer to you and Vil given the prior events. Luckily Rook and Silver- after pulling themselves together- straightened up and carried the both of you. You were put on Silver's back while Vil was on Rook's back. Sebek, professor Clay, and Papa Hades led your group back to Ramshackle, all the while ensuring that any ne'er-do-wells knew to keep their distance.

Now you all were looking for a bit of rest, and Malleus was likely to panic upon fully realizing what took place. You weren't exactly keen to argue with the Dragon and you knew complete fallout would occur if he ever learned you had kissed Vil in order to give the blot potion easy access to your body. Though you could have likely done it a different way, it was the only thing you could think of to encourage the blot potion out of Vil and into you fast enough to save the Harpy.

"Tsuno, I know you aren't happy about it, but it happened and is over now. All that matters is we are back safe and sound. Right?"

"..."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not going to classes tomorrow. Well, Vil won't be either after tonight's events, so you can stick around with us tomorrow if you feel like skipping a class or two."

This made the Dragon perk up somewhat, clearly pleased at the idea of spending more time with you than he usually would be able to. Still, he seemed hesitant to believe that all of the present issues were resolved so easily.

"Now, let's talk about who gets to sleep where in the nest."

~•§•~

The ancient Shinigami watched the pan sizzle as he cooked a small meal quickly and fiddled with a device in his hands. If the Harpy was so keen to be a data point in this study, Hades wasn't going to argue. It unsettled him that several of the students were showing signs of desperation and of performing desperate acts to get the soft and coveted Human's attention.

Who knows what the next desperate action will be or how far it will go.

"Lord Hades?"

"Yes, Child?"

The Shinigami turned his head towards the Yeti who had been present for the fallout of the Harpy and had been a rather helpful aide when it came to restraining the other students. Had they all tried to help and not been held back by the Ape-man, they likely would have all Overblotted or worse given the situation at hand. He at least lived up to his reputation of being calm under pressure and having a good grasp on dangerous situations.

"That much blot should have killed her."

"I know, Child. That much blot would have killed all of them had it gotten a hold on them."

"I know that potion. Poachers use it to infest their prey to claim they were 'putting down a Feral' instead of illegally harvesting parts from a non Feral. It never ends well for those who use it. Ever."

"I am familiar with the potion as well."

This only made Clay's frown deepen. He had seen entire poaching encampments turned Feral due to that specific potion and he had seen the way it acted like a blight on any magical being. How it moved from body to body, infesting and possessing anything it touched.

"Why didn't it kill her?"

"I have several theories. Humans are not magical, so they have next to no accumulation of blot as they go through life. Blot is a byproduct of magic, and without magic, Humans don't form blot but are susceptible to those who have turned Feral. My own Humans had very little interaction with Ferals by design. Though I knew they were blot resistant, I did not know the extent of their blot related abilities."

"So you don't know?"

"I don't know for certain, no. She has shown an incredible ability to neutralize blot and even attract blot towards her, as shown by the potion itself choosing to abandon it's prize of young Vil and anchor itself to her instead where it could have just taken them both."

The Shinigami turned towards Clay, moving the pan off of the heat to let it and the food he was cooking rest. The monitoring collar he was fiddling with coming to life in his hands as he adjusted it.

"I have a theory that Humans are natural blot absorbers and neutralizers. They likely developed this and their addictive nature by evolving hand in hand with magic using species. Humans needed protection from magical species so they developed a way to be needed and helpful to those that protected them. The magical species create blot, and the Humans absorb it, creating a symbiotic relationship. Perhaps it is this blot absorption that led to Humans being so addictive as they relieve the negative impact of blot, which all magical species have."

"It would make sense... To have blot creators and blot neutralizers. But still, this rampant almost infectious attraction and obsession doesn't really fit..."

"That is why it must be studied. There is the potential that Little (Y/n) is a fluke among Humans with an unnatural resistance to blot. The only thing that I know for certain is the data that has been gathered. Humans are addictive, thousands of years worth of research has proven that as fact. This blot absorption is a new development, and with only one Human as the sample size, it can't be asserted that (Y/n) isn't the only blot neutralizer."

The Yeti crossed his arms, deep in thought. It made sense from a scientific view. No science was perfect and with the sample size being a grand total of one, there was always room for misinterpretation. Even still, there was more than just the science to be considered.

"She deserves to know."

"Hm?"

"(Y/n) deserves to be told of her addictive qualities. If not for the sake of others, than for her own sake so she can protect herself. If everyone is going to have some kind of obsession- deadly or not- she deserves to know about it."

"... I know. I have considered broaching the topic many times before, yet have found myself struggling to find the right words to tell her."

"Why?"

"Because," the Shinigami sighed, running his fingers through his flame hair, "Humans are delicate compared to us. Physically they could be a credible threat to other species, especially when their young were put in harm's way, but emotionally they put more value into how others viewed them. It makes sense, they were at the whims of others for an extended period of time and are an incredibly social species as a whole, but that does mean they are more delicate to the emotional impact they have on others. Little (Y/n) in particular seems mostly aware of her impact on the others, but I worry what guilt she will feel when she learns the truth."

Clay nodded at this, having seen his own fair share of just how impactful the affectionate Human was on the wellbeing of those around her. From the guards that flocked to her, to the students that stared whenever she passed by, she impacted everyone she interacted with. He had also noticed his own growing attachment to the kind little Human that so innocently looked to him for instruction.

"Young Vil and Little (Y/n) are likely hungry with the blot still in their systems, they need food before they rest."

Clay dropped the subject as the elder Shinigami split the ample and warm food into two servings, turning to leave. He paused for just a moment at the threshold of the door to speak to the Yeti with an even and measured tone.

"I will broach the subject when I feel it is right, but trust that I will do it. For now, I ask you keep our conversation to yourself. She doesn't need such stress so soon after an event like this one, alright?"

"... I understand."

~•§•~

Rook was almost vibrating with how thrilled he was, settled down in the nest with his boon companion laying against his side. Vil had his long tail tucked and curled under his legs as he himself had taken an almost fetal position up against the side of the Drider. You were sitting close by, petting a sore and less than pleased Grim who demanded cuddles when he realized you were back.

The storm outside had quieted somewhat, as Malleus had managed to calm himself despite not liking the two outsiders laying in your nest. Silver was already back to sleep, Sebek laying against his side but still warily observing the Harpy and Drider duo in the nest. Though the Dragon was displeased with the interlopers, he was more relieved that you were alright. He didn't overlook the staining you had on your skin, seeing the darker tints around your eyes and lips where the blot had forced itself into you.

"Are you certain you are alright, (Y/n)?"

"Yes, Tsuno, I'm okay. I promise. If I wasn't, we wouldn't be having this conversation. I appreciate that you care so deeply about me and want to make sure I'm alright, but I promise you I am okay."

"..."

The Dragon continued to frown as a light knock sounded from the door. It slowly opened to reveal the large Shinigami with two steaming bowls of food and you couldn't help but smile at him. At least Papa Hades was present and could help care for you and Vil after the impact of the disastrous potion the Harpy had created.

"Here you are, Little One. Eat up and get some rest, you and Young Vil are no doubt exhausted by the evenings events."

You happily accepted the bowl of warm food, Grim taking several long sniffs towards your meal as you pet his forehead. His little nose wiggled and you were content to give the sore kit bites from your bowl. Vil seemed much more hesitant to take the food offered, seeming as if he were close to crying despite the kind gesture.

"Vil?"

"... I don't deserve it."

Your smile fell and you sighed, having seen similar remorseful driven behavior from Riddle and Alistair following their Overblots. He was likely going to need an encouraging hand if he was going to accept the meal offered. At least his behavior showed he was regretting his actions that drove him to his current state.

"Yes, you do. Eat, or you will regret it tomorrow."

"... (Y/n), I almost killed you with my actions. I could have killed myself as well. I don't deserve accolades or kindness after my actions."

A beat of silence passed as you handed the bowl off to a confused Lilia, handing Grim to Malleus. Vil seemed confused by your actions as you moved through the nest to his side, grabbing the second bowl from the elder Shinigami. Using the provided spoon, you scooped up some of the food and looked at Vil expectantly, holding the spoon up to him.

"(Y/n), I-"

"If your next actions are not eating and saying 'thank you' to Papa Hades, I'm not going to listen or entertain any further complaints. You will eat. You will be thankful someone took the time to make you food. You will accept that I am not angry with you. And above all else, you will forgive yourself for your own misguided actions. If I have to sit here and feed you myself, I will."

Vil was silent for another long moment, but his stomach spoke for him with an impatient growl as he could smell the warm food you held. With a certain hesitance to his movements and very much like a baby bird, he let you feed him that first spoonful. You didn't have to feed him the rest as that one bite triggered his obvious hunger and he happily took the bowl from you.

Once Vil was eating his fair share you gently pet his head, making the Harpy let out a gentle cooing noise at the affection. Lilia returned your bowl to you and you proceeded to follow the Harpy's example, pausing to give the occasional piece to Grim. Papa Hades seemed pleased with the both of you eating and nodded, resting on the edge of the nest to wait until you both had finished your impromptu meals.

"Young Vil, given the... events... that took place, I would rather you join the current study I am overseeing. It is on blot and how Little (Y/n) affects blot in other species. It will require you wear this monitor on your neck so we can get vitals and a fairly accurate measurement of blot remaining inside of you. Is that amenable to you?"

"Yes. I... am still mortified that I even considered Overblotting in the first place, but I understand now how lucky I truly am (Y/n) intervened when she did. It would be meaningless to deny my own participation in your research given my misguided actions."

Vil moved towards you, Papa Hades taking both bowls away and setting them to the side as he held up what looked like the same collars Riddle and Alistair wore. The Harpy held up his hair to allow the elder Shinigami to place the device around his neck, shivering from the cold touch. It clicked in place and seemed to not bother the Harpy too much despite the way it sat on his neck feathers.

"The both of you, get some rest. You have had an eventful night and tomorrow will be more rest and testing. I wish you all a pleasant evening."

"Goodnight, Papa Hades."

The elder chucked at this, smiling warmly at you.

"Goodnight, Little One."

With that, he left the room and closed the door behind him so you and your company could get some rest. Vil seemed much more at peace as he returned to Rook's side, the Drider placing pillows against his abdomen for the Harpy to rest comfortably on him. You settled down with Grim, noticing the way Malleus kept his back to the outside of the nest before pulling you under his wing so he could keep an eye on you.

As the room settled down, Lilia turned out the lights and a tentative calm washed over your group. Rook, Sebek, and Grim were quick to drift off, comfortable among the others in the nest and trusting their company wholeheartedly. You, Lilia, Malleus and Vil still clung to some awareness instead of succumbing fully to sleep.

Though you fought to cling to consciousness, you were quickly pulled into the embrace of rest. Malleus and Lilia both wanted to stay awake and keep an eye on the nest given their own anxieties with the situation. As they were both nocturnal Fae, they were less affected by the siren song of sleep than the others were.

Vil was just trying to process all that had happened. Though it was all orchestrated by him, he still had to come to terms with the memories that had been dredged up from the darker corners of his mind. Your forgiveness was a soothing balm to his worrying mind as he contemplated the cruelty of his mother juxtaposed with your compassion.

Something odd happened with his hazy memories of his mother that the Harpy couldn't explain. Where he remembered crying and hiding from her under a rather sturdy table, sobbing as his father fought in a flurry of feathers for his safety, another figure had appeared. You were somehow in his childhood memory, holding him and soothing him after his mother had attacked him. Though he knew it wasn't possibly true, he still valued that odd change to his memories and cherished your comfort.

Perhaps something had happened to alter his memories to a more soothing outcome when you took on his blot. Perhaps he rewrote his own memories to include someone soothing his distraught child self. All he knew for certain was that you were a very calming and soothing presence that made his heart ache less when you were around.

Your presence comforted and relaxed him more than anything else could. Given the way he had lived his life up until that point, he considered it a miracle that he could find anyone he is willing to accept affection from. He even struggled to accept the endless praise Rook heaped on his shoulders, believing the Drider only focused on his outward appearance despite being his closest friend.

Maybe, just maybe, Vil could learn to love himself with your help. He still was going to try and win your heart despite everything, but he now had a clear way forward and into a better frame of mind. For now, that was all that truly mattered to him.

[sweetestberryofthebunch]

Maya Mason x Intern!Reader HCs

We have a solid 10 minutes of screen time and I have MUSINGS so. You’re welcome.

Content/Warnings: Fluff and Smut, NSFW content separated from SFW, afab!reader but no pronouns used, one good girl mention, power dynamics, bitches be switches, mentions of some anal play, free use kink, degradation and praise, Orgasm denial, semi public sex

Tagging @msharkness here u go angel 💚

SFW:

When you started the position, everyone at the Studio pitied you. Maya is loud, audacious and not exactly known to cooperate very well. She has chased many interns right out of the industry.

But you refuse to let her break you. Every task she gives you, no matter how outlandish or ridiculous, you fulfill with bravado, handing her a finishes report just hours after. So of course, she begins to take a liking to you.

Every morning, Maya makes you grab her reusable mug and run to Starbucks. The reusable mug looks good for her image, but in reality she couldn’t care less about the environment.

You know she starts to like you when one day, there’s a second cup on the desk next to hers. When you ask which one she wants her drink in, she rolls her eyes. “Mine, obviously. The other one is for you. Go get whatever you like, before i change my mind. I want my usual!”

All your coffee and lunches are charged from her credit card.

You have lunch with her in her office, where she tells you the latest gossip from set as well as all her frustrations about her idiot coworkers. Seriously, if it wasn’t for her this company would have already failed.

She is short. Definitely shorter than you. At first, she seems very bothered by it. As your relationship develops, she starts to enjoy when you rest your chin on her shoulder or her head though.

She’ll grab you by the back of your head and place you there, your arms wrapping around her waist so she can rest her hands over yours.

As a boss, she’s quite strict and has very high standards. However, at parties and galas she will sing your praises to everyone who will listen, especially A List celebrity guests.

Its how Charlize theron learned your name. A fact that still makes your head spin to this day.

For your anniversary, she gifts you a small necklace with an M as a charm. When you ask how you’re supposed to explain it at work, she scoffs. “Make something up. I thought you’re in creative marketing.”

„Be a doll and fetch me those files from the art department. That’s my good girl.“

„Baby“ „Angel“

Once you go official at work, and honestly even before that, she always has a hand on your lower back, manicure digging into the fabric of your shirt.

She just likes to have you close, likes when people can see she has claimed on you first.

At work, she keeps pda on a minimum, she has too many responsibilities for that. But at home, she’s a big cuddler.

Loves to curl into your side or lay on top of you on the couch, loves her hands on her waist.

Adores it when you play with her hair, brush it, braid it, wash it for her when you shower together. Its one of the few times she melts into you, just lets herself relax and enjoy.

Maya is not a big fan of cooking, except for breakfast. Every morning, she will make you the best breakfast you coule imagine. Eggs, warm toast with molten butter, bacon and sausages, a little yogurt parfait with fresh berries and granola.

Her habit of making a big breakfast single handedly turned you into a morning person, because there is no way you’re missing out on your daily feast. Or the view of her in her satin pyjamas and fluffy socks, hair unkempt in a big bun on her head, the freckles on her nose full display.

You sit at your usual spot on the counter, watching her work away. She’ll brush past you, getting on her tiptoes to steal a quick kiss.

Or she’ll cage you in by planting her hands on the counter, taking her sweet time as she kisses you slowly, languidly.

If you’re late for work no one dares to comment on it because she tends to unleash hell on those who attempt to

At work, she has a strict no kiss policy. However that doesn’t extend to other activities…

NSFW:

Her work is frustrating. God its so frustrating. Thank goodness she has you at her beck and call, always there to help her out however she needs at the moment.

Loves to take you in her office, bent over her desk as she lets all her frustrations about her coworker’s incompetence out in you.

Or, when she’s stuck on desk duty, she likes to have you bent over her lap, lazily playing with you with one hand as she answers emails and calls with the other.

Both holes. I would even say she loves to tease your ass actually.

If you’re lucky, she was merciful enough to bite her nails off first. But you definitely had to take the full acrylics at least once when she was too worked up to care.

She made sure to take care of you afterwards, got you an ointment for the scratches and was extra gentle with you the next few days.

You have a free use agreement at work, if she needs to blow off steam, you are always right there to give her what she wants.

„I don’t know why Tyler would approve these candids.“ „I don’t know why you’re not bent over this desk yet.“

Maya makes sure you sit next to her in board meetings. When the conversation bores her, she‘ll just entertain herself by sneaking her hand between your legs. She loves to watch your face as you try to remain composed.

You can tell when she gets hates a pitch because she‘ll thrust into you harder under the table, and when she likes something she‘ll focus on circling your clit instead.

She’s absolutely a powerbottom at heart, and teaches you exactly how to please her and expects you to deliver. It you don’t, she‘ll keep you denied until you prove you deserve her touch.

She can leave you squirming for days, but you better never try to deny her. She will turn into an absolute brat if you do. No one denies her what she wants.

She has a tongue piercing that most people don’t know about, but it’s one of your favourite secrets about her. For obvious reasons.

At home, away from her dumbass coworkers and the fast paced work environment, she is a lot more gentle with you.

She loves to take long, steaming hot baths with you, making out sloppy as you take turns riding each others thigh, movements lazy and slow.

If you really want to treat her, you turn her around and gently thrust your fingers into her from behind, her knuckles white as she gripe the edge of the tub.

At work, all you get from her is sharp orders and degradation, but in the safety of her home, she whispers sickly sweet praise into your ear, talking you through it gently.

Seriously, the only time you can shut her up for a moment is when you have her in your lap, strap buried deep inside her as she rides out her orgasm, head thrown back and nails digging into your scalp. And even then she’s vocal, just not exactly coherent.

After, she will call you a good pet, hers and only hers, her treasure. Always whispered quietly into your ear as your arms are around her sweat coated body, but she means every word nonetheless.

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (page 86-89)

* Where it all started.

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[mazken]

brush test slash rendering practice with ayem

[luck-of-the-drawings]

POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.

[iraprince]

gonna show u guys a little opalescent highlight hack i threw together today

rainbow gradient above your main figure (i usually have all my main figure folders/layers in one big folder, so i can clip gradient maps + adjustments to it!). liquify tool to push the colors around a bit. STAY WITH ME I KNOW IT LOOKS STUPID RN I'M GOING SOMEWHERE WITH THIS

THEN: set it to add/glow (or the equivalent in ur drawing program), lower the opacity a bit, and apply a layer mask. then u can edit the mask with whatever tools you like to create rainbow highlights!!

in this case i'm mostly using the lasso fill tool to chip out little facets, but i've also done some soft airbrushing to bring in larger rainbow swirls in some areas. it's pretty subtle here, but you can see it better when i remove the gradient map that's above everything, since below i'm working in greyscale:

more granular rambling beneath the cut!

u could also just do this with a brush that has color jitter, but what i like about using layer masks for highlight/shading layers is how simple and reversible it makes everything. i can use whatever brushes i want, and erasing/redoing things is super low stakes, which is great when i often approach this stuff with a super trial-and-error approach.

example: have u ever thrown a gradient w multiple colors over an entire piece, set it to multiply etc, and then tried to erase it away to carve out shadows/highlights? it's super frustrating, bc it looks really good, but if u erase something and then change ur mind later, u basically would have to like. recreate the gradient in the area u want to cover up again. that's how i used to do things before figuring out layer masks!! but masking basically creates a version of this with INFINITE undo bc u can erase/re-place the base layer whenever u want.

anyway, back to rambling about this specific method:

i actually have TWO of these layers on this piece (one with the liquified swirls shown above, and another that's just a normal concentric circle gradient with much broader stripes) so i can vary the highlights easily as needed.

since i've basically hidden the rainbow pattern from myself, the colors in each brushstroke i make will kind of be a surprise, which isn't always great -- but easily fixable! for example, if i carve out a highlight and it turns out the rainbow pattern in that area is way too stripey, i can just switch from editing the mask to editing the main layer and blur that spot a bit.

also, this isn't a full explanation of the overall transparency effect in these screencaps! there's other layer stuff happening below the rainbow highlights, but the short version is i have all this character's body parts in different folders, each with their own lineart and background fill, and then the fill opacity is lowered and there's multiply layers clipped to that -- blah blah it's a whole thing. maybe i'll have a whole rundown on this on patreon later. uhhh i think that's it tho! i hope u get something useful out of this extremely specific thing i did lmao

[lupinqs]

PTPOM ━━ paige bueckers x teammate!reader

☆ ━ summary: you put that pussy on paige… based off that amari live clip, iykyk

☆ ━ word count: 4.1K

☆ ━ warnings: smutttt (paige is a MUNCH, strap, spitting, etc)

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: yeah i’m ngl this was meant to be a pazzi fic but i wrote it and it just didn’t feel like them at all so i changed it to an x reader. sorry y’all, pazzi stuff coming soon!

THE BUS RIDE is electric, the aroma of your team’s win filling the vehicle. Music blares from Jana’s portable speaker, the bass rattling the floor beneath their feet. The whole team is hyped, celebrating a well-played game and a well-deserved win. You sit near the middle of the bus, in the window seat, while your teammate (and girlfriend), Paige, sits beside you, closer to the aisle.

KK is stood up a couple rows down, shouting the lyrics to the current song being played, dancing in her usual KK-Arnold-fashion. Amari’s closer to the back of the bus, entertaining a live that you’d talked to for a little while before growing bored and reclaiming your seat next to Paige.

The music shifts, and suddenly, PTPOM 2.0 is blaring through the speakers. The energy around you grows in a single millisecond, KK and Jana practically losing it, jumping up in their seats, hands in the air and grins on their faces. Paige’s face alights in excitement, and she stands in her seat, clapping, before absolutely screaming in a way that you’re sure anyone within a mile radius can hear, “AY, PUT THAT PUSSY ON ME!”

You watch, wide-eyed and laughing, as Paige and the others get louder, bouncing and singing along to the lyrics, the bus shaking with energy, feeding off the chaoticness. You share a look with Azzi, who’s also sitting and observing, that is equal parts disbelief and amusement.

“Let’s go! This the one!” Paige shouts before grinning down at you from where she stands beside you.

You shake your head a little bit, still laughing as you say, “You’re so gay.”

She doesn’t respond, just uses her hand to ruffle your hair a little bit as she sticks her tongue out. You let out another laugh, slapping her hand away and going to fix the ponytail that she’s ruined as Paige returns to her singing—if you could even call it that.

Eventually, Paige, breathless from shouting and jumping, collapses back into her seat, still grinning from ear to ear. Her chest heaves with exhilaration, and she turns to you, her eyes gleaming.

Leaning in close, your girlfriend’s lips brush along the shell of your ear as she whispers, “Can you tonight? In the hotel?”

You feel a shiver run down your spine at the soft, teasing tone in Paige’s voice. You tilt your head slightly, stomach fluttering, though trying to stay nonchalant.

“Can I what?” you ask, voice light but curiosity piqued.

Paige’s smirk deepens, her breath warm against your ear as she murmurs suggestively, “Put that pussy on me?”

You pull away to look her in the eye, your own eyes widening, mouth agape. You slap Paige lightly on the arm, trying to keep your cheeks from turning red as you feel the blood begin to rush in them. You look around a little bit, hoping to God that none of your teammates hears Paige’s words. When you see none of them looking at the two of you, your gaze returns to Paige and you say, half-disbelieving (though you really shouldn’t considering she says things like this far too often), “You did not just say that.”

Paige just grins, leaning back in her seat as she stretches her arms behind her head, completely unbothered. “What?” she asks, feigning innocence, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I’m just asking a question.”

You just shake your head, biting your lip to hide your smile and doing your best to not let your face give away how flustered you really are. “Enough.”

“Come onnn,” Paige whines a little, leaning back in closer to you, one of her hand landing on your thigh, which she squeezes a little. “Please, baby. I know you wanna.”

You shoot her a look, eyes flitting between her hand on your skin and her face. You roll your eyes, ignoring the fast-paced pitter-patter of your heart beating through your chest. “We’ll see.”

THE HOTEL ROOM door closes behind the two of you with a click. Paige tosses both of your duffel bags into the corner of the room as you, with an exaggerated groan of exhaustion, collapse face-first into one of the hotel beds. Your body sinks into the plush comforter, arms and legs sprawled out, as if the the exhaustion of the day and the game have finally caught up to you. Paige smiles a little bit at your dramatics, shaking her head.

“Long day?” she teases, kicking off her shoes as she makes her way over to the bed.

You let out a muffled sound of agreement, face still buried in the pillows. “So long,” you mumble into the fabric. “I’m exhausted.”

Paige slides onto the bed beside you, hovering over you slightly as her hand instinctively finds its way to your hip, fingers curling around the soft material of your shirt. “Yeah?” she asks, voice dropping to a lower tone. “‘S too bad…”

You turn your head slightly, just enough to glance at your girlfriend through half-lidded eyes, a small smile playing on your lips. “I might have a little energy left,” you murmur up at her, eyes trailing to the blonde’s lips.

Paige grins, leaning down until your faces are just mere centimeters apart, the playful glint in her eyes now mixing with something else that makes your stomach tumble. “Knew you’d say that,” she whispers, smirking wider as her breath fans across your skin.

And then, without any hesitation, Paige closes the distance between you, her lips crashing against yours in a heated kiss. You welcome it eagerly, body reacting immediately to the familiar press of Paige’s mouth, the weight of her presence beside you on the bed. Paige’s hand slides from your hip to your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a kind of urgency that neither of you had quite anticipated.

You let out a soft, content sigh against Paige’s lips, your hand coming up to tangle in the blonde’s hair as you shift onto your back, pulling Paige on top of you. Paige takes the invitation eagerly, her body pressing yours into the bed as she kisses you harder, more insistently. Your lips move in perfect sync, the heat between you building rapidly as your surroundings seem to fade into the background.

Paige’s kisses soon begin to stray, her lips trailing down your jaw and then to your neck, each press of her mouth leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Your breath hitches slightly as Paige finds that particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, your hands gripping your girlfriend’s back a little tighter.

“Paige,” you whisper, voice breathy and full of need.

Paige doesn’t respond with words—she doesn’t need to. Her hands slide under your shirt, pulling it over your head quickly, leaving you just in your sports bra. Her mouth returns to its spot on your neck, flicking her tongue out a little to taste the skin, while her fingers trail along your stomach, before landing at your bra, flicking at the fabric slightly. Your breath hitches once more as her hand reaches under the article of clothing, thumb brushing along your nipple slightly, before beginning to knead your breast.

Her kisses begin to trail even more, now sliding from your neck down to your collarbone, where she sucks with a ferventness that has your eyes fluttering closed, sighing at the feeling.

But before you can really relish in it, something else piques your attention. Paige is muttering—humming (?)—something against your skin between kisses, words that jumble together as your mind zooms in on the feeling of her hand on your breast, her body on top of yours, her lips on your skin. You focus more on her words, fluttering your eyes open, brows furrowing.

“Put that pussy on me,” she hums almost imperceptibly against your skin.

As you realize that she’s singing that stupid song again, you can’t help but let out a loud laugh and it bubbles through your chest. “Paige,” you say, voice full of amusement as you tug at her game-day ponytail. “Quit singing that.”

Paige pauses, pulling away just enough to look you in the eye, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Okay,” she says with a shrug, her tone far too innocent for the look in her eyes.

For a brief second, you think that maybe she actually will stop. But Paige, in true Paige fashion, has other plans. Instead of continuing the song, she takes the lyrics to heart.

Without another word, Paige’s hands move with purpose, slipping down to your waistband and tugging your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your breath catches in your throat, heart racing as you quickly realize your girlfriend’s plans. Before you can even think to protest (though you have no intention of doing so), Paige has hooked your legs over her shoulders, positioning herself between them with an undeniable confidence.

“P—” you start, voice already breathless, but the word dies on your lips, instead replaced by a sharp gasp, as Paige licks a slow stripe along your slit.

The sensation is instant, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. Your hands dig into Paige’s hair as you let out a shaky moan, the feel of her mouth on you the only thing you can comprehend. Her tongue moves expertly along your clit, and it makes your chest heave.

“God,” you gasp, fingers tightening in Paige’s ponytail, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensation. Your body is already trembling, breaths coming in short, ragged bursts as Paige continues, her mouth and tongue working in perfect rhythm.

Paige, for her part, seems entirely focused on the task at hand, her hands gripping your thighs firmly as she works, her tongue moving with precision, hitting every sensitive spot with ease. Your gasps and soft moans only seem to spur her on, her tongue flicking faster against you, sucking more fervently.

Your world narrows to just this—just the feel of Paige’s mouth, the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your body responds with every touch. It’s overwhelming, in the best possible way, and you can feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge, the tension building inside you like a coiled spring ready to snap.

“Paige,” you gasp, voice barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. “I—God, I’m—”

Before you can finish, the wave of pleasure crests, and your body tenses as you tumble over the edge, hand tightening in Paige’s ponytail, yanking ever so slightly, making her let out a low, breathless moan against your cunt. The vibrations make you shiver, and you’re trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

However, even though you’ve finished, it seems like Paige has no intentions of stopping. Her mouth remains locked on your clit, tongue still working, moving in those perfect, deliberate strokes that have you seeing stars.

You gasp, body tensing again as the sensation becomes too much, the overstimulation hitting you all at once. “P,” you mumble, one of your hands instinctively reaching down to push at Paige’s head, trying to ease her away. “Too much—”

But Paige, ever stubborn, pulls away just enough to whine in protest, her breath hot against your sensitive cunt as she lifts her head. “Please, baby,” your girlfriend pleads, voice low and full of pure neediness. “Just one more. Gimme one more, baby.”

Your breath seems to catch in your throat at the desperation in Paige’s voice, and even though your body is practically vibrating from overstimulation, something about the way Paige asks—no, begs—makes it impossible to say no.

Before you can even respond, Paige is already diving back in, too impatient to wait for an answer. Her mouth moves with renewed focus, her tongue working your clit in ways that make your body feel like it’s on fire. Paige’s brows furrow as she concentrates, lapping at your cunt like a dog, movements precise, each flick of her tongue making you shake.

“Fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into the skin of Paige’s neck as your grip on her hair tightens. Your legs shake slightly, thighs trembling against Paige’s shoulders, but Paige just holds you tighter, determined to coax that second orgasm out of you.

Paige looks up as at you she works, her eyes locking onto yours, and the intensity in her gaze makes your stomach flip. There’s something about the way Paige watches you, the hunger and the focus in her eyes as she keeps going, her mouth and tongue relentless. It’s almost like Paige wants to commit this moment to memory, wants to own every second of your pleasure, every gasp, every moan.

Your head falls back against the pillow, chest heaving as you bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the sounds spilling from your mouth. But it’s useless—Paige is too good, her tongue too perfect, her fingers gripping your thighs just tight enough to ground you while her mouth sends you soaring.

You watch, mouth hanging open slightly in pleasure, as Paige pulls back a little. She smirks up at you, licking your slick off her lips, before her baby blues travel down to stare at your clit. She presses a soft kiss against it before pulling back once more, just enough to spit on that spot, her saliva dripping down onto your cunt. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head as Paige looks up at you once more, while her fingers slowly rub her spit into your skin, circling your clit, teasing your entrance before bringing them back up and around. “So fuckin’ perfect,” Paige murmurs, her voice low and full of awe as she looks up at you, her eyes gleaming with possessiveness. “So pretty, baby.”

You let out a soft whimper, your body trembling at the praise, the feeling of Paige’s fingers and mouth nearly sending you over the edge again. You barely have time to catch your breath before Paige adds, her voice even softer but dripping with ownership, “My pretty baby.”

And then her mouth returns, tongue lapping and working you over like she has something to prove. Her tongue moves in so many different ways, flicking and swirling and pressing in all the right places, and you almost feel like you’re losing your mind. Every nerve in your body is on fire, your senses overloaded with the feeling of your girlfriend’s mouth, her hands, her voice—just Paige.

Your back arches off the bed, fingers tugging desperately at Paige’s hair as the pressure inside you begins to build once again, impossibly fast, impossibly intense. “P—Paige,” you gasp, voice broken and breathless as you feel herself teetering on the edge again, your body trembling with the anticipation of release.

Paige doesn’t stop. Instead, she sucks. And sucks. And sucks. Her hands are steadying your shaking thighs as she keeps her in place, humming and moaning against you because she’s enjoying this just as much as you are. There’s a look of sheer determination on Paige’s face, her brows still furrowed in concentration as she makes you come undone beneath her.

It hits you all at once, the second orgasm slamming into you with the force of a freight train. Your vision blurs, your entire body convulsing as you come, a choked gasp escaping your lips as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. Paige keeps going, pushing you through it, her tongue moving in perfect sync with the spasms of your body.

“Fuck, Paige,” you whimper, your voice barely audible as you ride out your high, hands trembling as you hold onto the blonde for dear life. Your mind is hazy, your body completely spent, but Paige doesn’t stop until you finally still, your breathing ragged and uneven.

Finally, Paige pulls back, her lips and chin and nose glistening, her eyes full of pride as she looks up at you, a satisfied grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. She wipes the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, crawling back up your body and collapsing beside you on the bed, her hand finding its way to your waist.

“See?” Paige whispers, her voice still low and a little breathless as she presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I knew you had at least one more in you.”

You raise your brows at her, still trying to catch your breath as you ask, “At least?”

Paige doesn’t answer, just grins a little as she leans in, going to kiss you, her hand moving to rest on your stomach. You kiss her back, palm lightly splayed across her cheek.

“I brought it,” Paige murmurs against your lips, surprising you. Her eyes flicker with that familiar gleam, that playful but intense fire.

Your breath hitches at the implication, your heart skipping a beat. Despite already coming twice, you feel a rush of need between your legs. “You did?” you ask with a tremor of anticipation.

“Mm-hm,” Paige hums, leaning in and spreading light kisses along your jawline, trailing them til her lips meet your ear. There, she whispers, “Will you let me fuck you with it?”

You feel your heart stutter at her words, the unmistakable want tainting her tone. You feel your body warm at the thought, and the need in your stomach turns molten. It doesn’t help that she’s sucking a spot on your neck now, one that will surely leave a mark. “Yeah,” you say breathily against her.

Paige pulls away from your neck as a grin breaks out across her features—wide, eager, and filled with anticipation. She stands up from the bed, crossing the room in a few quick strides to your bags. You watch her, heart pounding faster as she rummages through her duffle, finally pulling out the purple strap. Paige holds it up for a moment, letting it dangle in her hand, her eyes flicking back to you with a teasing smile before she begins to strip off her own clothes, tossing them aside with casual ease.

Paige stands there for a beat, completely bare, her toned body all lean muscle and curves, looking every bit the athlete she is. She takes her time putting the strap on, adjusting it around her hips, the purple of the toy standing out against her skin. Once she’s satisfied, she gives you this look—one that makes your breath catch again—before crawling back onto the bed.

Your body is practically buzzing with anticipation as Paige leans down and kisses you again, slowly this time, her lips soft but deliberate as they move against your own. There’s something almost tender about the way Paige kisses you, even though you can feel the heat simmering just beneath the surface.

“Ready?” Paige whispers against her lips, her hand brushing a path along your neck and up to your cheek, which she cups softly.

You nod, your heart racing, your body already aching for more. “Yeah,” you murmur, the words barely audible.

Paige smiles and, with careful deliberation, lines herself up, the tip of the strap pressing against your entrance. She’s slow at first, easing it in just enough for you to get used to the stretch. You feel your back arch off the bed a little as the toy begins to fill you, the sensation overwhelming in the best way. It’s big—Paige chose one that was just the right size to make you feel full, to give you that perfect stretch.

“Fuck,” you mutter, fingers curling into the bedsheets as Paige pushes in deeper, slow and steady, letting you adjust to the sensation. She watches you the entire time, her eyes flickering with something dark and intense, like she’s savoring every second of this.

“Feel good?” Paige asks, her voice low and almost too calm, given how worked up you are.

You can’t speak, can’t find the words, so you just nod, your breath coming out in short, shaky puffs as Paige finally pushes all the way in, filling you to the hilt. The fullness is almost too much, but it’s also perfect—the kind of pressure that has you teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain in the most intoxicating way.

Paige leans down again, her lips ghosting over yours as she begins to move, slow and careful thrusts that make your toes curl. “God, you’re so fuckin’ perfect,” Paige mumbles, her voice dripping with praise as she picks up the pace, her hips moving just a little faster. “So tight around me, baby. You feel that?”

You let out a moan in response, your body rocking in time with each of your girlfriend’s thrusts. Paige’s words always get to you, always add to the heat building inside you, and right now, Paige is talking like she wants you to lose your mind.

“You take me so well,” Paige continues, and it comes out low and raspy as she thrusts a little harder, her hands gripping your hips for leverage. “Fuckin’ perfect. My perfect girl.”

Your breathing is beyond ragged now, and you’re trembling beneath Paige as the pressure builds higher and higher. Every thrust hits just right, pushing deeper inside you, filling you in ways that made her head spin. You swear you can feel the strap in your stomach at this point. “Paige—” you gasp, voice breaking as your hands grip Paige’s shoulders, pulling her closer.

The blonde doesn’t slow. If anything, she speeds up, her hips slamming into yours with a steady rhythm that has you seeing stars. “Fuck, you hear that?” Paige rasps out, a little breathlessly as she continues fucking you. She pauses her words for a moment, doesn’t say anything, letting the sound of your skin slapping against each other, the sound of Paige’s strap sliding in and out of your cunt, fill the room. “Listen to how wet you are. Shit, baby, that pussy’s so fuckin’ good.”

Your heart rate picks up, her words hitting you like a jolt of electricity. The wet sounds, the lewd praise—it’s all too much, too perfect. “Paige,” you whimper her name again, your nails digging into her skin as you shake with the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Paige murmurs, her breath hot against your neck as she leans in, her movements becoming more deliberate, more purposeful. “My pretty girl. All mine. So fuckin’ pretty like this, baby. Look at you.”

Paige reaches down between you, her fingers finding your clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles that send sparks shooting through your entire body. “Fuck!” you practically shout, hour body jolting at the added sensation. “Shit, P.”

Your whine has Paige’s movements becoming even more calculated, each thrust perfectly timed with the pressure she puts on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You’re moaning against her neck, almost sobbing into her skin, as she continues pounding into you relentlessly. In and out, in and out, hitting your g-spot over and over and over again.

“Come for me, baby,” Paige commands, pinching your clit and biting at the skin of your neck. “Come on. I wanna feel you come on my cock.”

The words send you spiraling, your body tensing as the pleasure hits you like a tidal wave. Your orgasm rips through you, and you practically convulse beneath Paige as your vision blurs, your moans loud and unabashed as you come, hard, trembling from head to toe with the intensity of it.

Paige keeps moving, riding it out for you, her hips slowing but still thrusting deep, drawing out every last bit of pleasure. “That’s it, baby,” she says lowly. She’s full of awe as she watches you fall apart beneath her. “Fuck, you’re so good. Always so fuckin’ perfect.”

Your breath comes in ragged gasps as the pleasure slowly subsides, your body limp and spent beneath Paige. You can still feel the strap inside you, the fullness of it grounding you as you tried to catch your breath.

Paige leans down, pressing a series of soft kisses along your forehead, her fingers still tracing light patterns on your skin. “You okay?” she asks softly, now full of gentleness and care and even concern.

You nod, still too breathless to speak, but the content smile on your face says it all. Paige kisses you again, slow and sweet, her hand resting on your cheek as she slowly pulls the strap out, easing you down from your high.

“Guess you could say you put that pussy on me,” she tells you jokingly, smiling against your lips.

You let out a tired laugh, slapping her ass lightly as you say, “Enough.”

[kateschi]

two heroes, one marriage

synopsis: having stolen the hearts of fans with your teamwork and marraige, you and katsuki are called in for a joint interview.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the magazine spread featuring you and katsuki as top pro heroes has the fanbase buzzing for weeks.

power couples aren’t uncommon, but the combination of your joint success and explosive chemistry—both literally and figuratively—makes you stand out.

when you both get asked to sit down for a joint interview, it’s hard to say no, especially when the public can’t seem to get enough of the dynamic between you and your husband.

sitting side by side on a plush sofa in the brightly lit studio, katsuki bristles with impatience, his jaw clenched as the interviewer introduces the segment.

it’s a familiar scene—his fiery personality on display for everyone to see—but you can feel the underlying tension, the way his body leans subtly closer to yours for grounding.

“so, the two of you are recognized as two of the top heroes of the year, and fans are really curious to know how you manage your lives as heroes and as a married couple,” the interviewer begins with a polite smile, clearly trying to ease into the conversation.

before you can respond, katsuki’s sharp voice cuts through the air.

“what the hell kinda question is that?” he snaps, eyes narrowing as he crosses his arms. “we do our damn jobs, and we go home. simple as that.”

you stifle a laugh, used to his bluntness by now. gently placing a hand on his arm, you intervene.

“what he means,” you say, casting a glance at katsuki that makes him grumble, “is that it’s about finding a rhythm. we both understand each other’s work, so we don’t get in each other’s way.”

katsuki grunts, his fiery gaze fixed on the interviewer. “she knows how to handle herself; doesn’t need me micromanaging her every move.”

despite his words, his hand finds its way to your lower back, fingers pressing into the fabric of your suit.

his touch is subtle, a quiet reassurance in the midst of his usual tough demeanor, but you know it means he’s keeping you close, watching out for you in his own way.

the interviewer picks up on the moment, nodding enthusiastically.

“it sounds like you both have a lot of trust in each other. how do you support one another with the high demands of your careers?”

katsuki clicks his tongue, clearly irritated. “support? we’re pros. we know what we’re doin’ out there.”

but just as you’re about to add something, he turns his head slightly to you, his voice dropping just enough for you to hear the change in tone.

“that doesn’t mean I won’t blow the ass off anyone who even thinks about messin’ with her,” he mutters.

you chuckle softly, nudging him with your elbow. “and here I thought I didn’t need you hovering around.”

“shut up,” he grumbles, but there’s no real bite in his tone.

his hand stays on your back, thumb brushing up and down in a way only you notice. “just ‘cause you’re strong doesn’t mean I’m not gonna make sure you’re alright.”

the interviewer, sensing an opportunity, leans in. “mister dynamight, you seem pretty protective of your wife. would you say that’s how you balance work and home life?”

katsuki’s eyes flash, his scowl deepening. “of course, I’m protective. you think I’d let her get caught up in any shit without me there to take care of it?”

his voice is sharp, but the way his arm shifts slightly to pull you closer is anything but harsh. “we don’t even need to talk about this crap.”

you smile to yourself, knowing this is as close to an open display of affection as katsuki will get in public.

his explosive personality never wavers, but there are cracks in his tough exterior that only you can see—moments where his concern for you bleeds through.

when the interviewer pushes on, asking about how your relationship works in the field, katsuki scoffs again.

“are you gonna keep asking this?” he snaps, before glancing at you, his hand tightening just slightly at your waist.

he sighs, trying to compose himself. “we work together ‘cause we’re a team, a hella good one at that.”

his little proud smirk makes your heart flutter. you decide to tease him a little. “oh, so you’re saying you can’t live without me on the battlefield, huh?”

his glare is immediate, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “don’t twist my words! I just—”

he cuts himself off, grumbling under his breath.

“you’re the one who keeps me in check, alright? so yeah, maybe i do rely on you. you’re my wife, and I am your husband. that’s natural! don’t make a big deal out of it.”

your husband huffs and looks away, which makes you giggle.

meanwhile, the interviewer chuckles nervously, clearly amused by the exchange. “it seems like you two have a really solid partnership.”

katsuki rolls his eyes. “damn right we do. we’ve got each other’s backs. that’s how it’s always been, and that’s how it’s gonna stay.”

as the interview wraps up, you feel katsuki’s hand slip from your waist, but his presence lingers, as solid and steady as ever.

once you’re off-camera and away from the prying eyes of the public, katsuki turns to you, his expression softening in that rare way that only you ever get to see.

“let’s get outta here,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “this interview crap’s a waste of time.”

you laugh, slipping your hand into his. “let's hope they don't cut you out like they did in highschool.”

“shut the hell up.” but despite his grumbling, he doesn’t let go of your hand, his grip tightening just slightly as you walk together out of the studio.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[hausofwoo]

graphic | mark lee

pairing: mark lee x afab reader

word count: 6.6K

summary: stuck in the monotony of your job at the mall, every day feels the same: opening the store, sitting behind the register, and counting the hours til close. you've even memorized the routines of the stores around you. but when a new guy starts at the comic book store across the way, you realize your predictable days may soon change.

warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, comic book store employee!mark, retail employee!reader, really cute and fluffy until it's not, public sex (public space but no one is there), unprotected piv (DONT DO THIS), mark throws u around like a lil play thing, oral (fem recieving), fingering, use of a petname (baby), lmk if i forgot anything!

author's note: this one took forever yall i know its been a while! been going thru some shit irl but things are settling and i was deadset on finishing this bc it's so cute :'-) thank u to T and @hausofmingi for being my beta readers ( ˘ ³˘)♡

working at a mall can be really tiring, but it’s not so bad when you have a crush.

you’ve been working at a retail store at your local mall for a few months now. it’s boring, there’s too many people on the weekends, and you have the worst hours. you found yourself working open to close for far too many shifts. but at the end of the day, at least it keeps the bills paid.

on slow days during the week, you’re always sat at the register, scrolling through your phone or twiddling your thumbs, counting down the seconds til closing time. sometimes you would even stare off into space, watching people pass by all day long.

you went to work always knowing exactly how the day would go; set up shop, maybe help some customers, and do fucking nothing for 8 to 10 hours. maybe a wave to the employees at the stores surrounding you, but sadly, that was usually the most interesting part of your day. you became accustomed to the monotony though, watching the same employees open up their shops next to yours.

the store directly across from yours is a comic book store. you know the few people that worked there, usually just saying “good morning” and going on with your day. you swear, you have this store memorized, knowing when the employees take their breaks, who’s working, what they’re working on that day. you didn’t really mean to, but when all you have to do is daydream, you kinda picked up on the routine there.

so when you arrive in the morning for yet another brutal open-to-close shift, you expect to just roll up the security shutters and sit back at the register all day. but there’s something different today; or rather, someone different.

sitting at the register at the comic book store is a man you’ve never seen before. his hair is perfectly messy and his glasses framed his eyes, which are focused on reading a comic. he’s working all by himself, which is surprising to you since you’re certain he’s new. you catch yourself staring and try to brush it off. he’s a new guy, so what?

you try your best to go about your day as normal, but you can’t help stealing glances over at the man at the store across from you. he has a captivating energy, and it makes you want to know more about him. he seems charismatic, being friendly with customers and earning smiles, then resuming his doodling once they leave. you notice that when he looks really focused, he bites the corner of his lip gently.

you gotta stop staring, or he will definitely notice. you decide to actually work on something for once, organizing the stock and straightening the shelves. soon enough, closing time creeps up on you. you do all of your closing duties and grab your things from the back. you close the security shutters, looking behind you quickly to see that the man is doing the same. he notices your gaze, so you kindly wave at him. instead of a wave back, blush forms on his face with a shy smile. and with that, he walks away.

the interaction was unreadable. he seemed to be so extroverted with customers, having no issue having casual conversations with them. why is he getting all shy now?

you started to pick up on the new routine at the comic book store. from what you could tell, the man worked similar hours to you, often opening and closing too. he rarely worked with anyone else, so the majority of the time you glanced over, he was reading comics, manga, or doodling in his notepad.

you never really got into comic books like that, and only dabbled with reading manga, but the growing interest in this man made you curious about learning more on what he was reading. maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check out the selection? perhaps get some recommendations? you just finished a short shift today so now was the perfect opportunity.

after grabbing your things and saying goodbye to your coworker, you make your way over to the comic book store. you approach the man, who’s sitting at the register as usual, reading. you see his name tag on his chest; a cute red pin with a spider-man drawing next to his name, “mark.”

“hi,” you say, pulling his attention away from reading.

“oh, hi,” he says, placing his comic down. “sorry, i didn’t see you come in.”

“it’s okay,” you reply, looking around at the goodies at the register. “i was wondering if you have any recommendations for a beginner at reading comics?”

“oh for sure,” he says, eyes lighting up. “marvel has tons of great ones. you could start with an ironman one, or maybe captain america? i personally like spider-man, but i’m definitely biased.”

“i’ll try spider-man,” you say after a beat.

mark gives you a nod with a warm smile before leaving the register to grab your comic. he searches through the spider-man section until he finds the first issue. he returns to the register, ringing you up.

“i think you’ll like it, it’s really good,” mark says, handing your receipt to you.

“i’m definitely looking forward to see what all the hype is about,” you chuckle. the conversation pauses for moment, clearly indicating that the interaction is pretty much over with. but you don’t want the conversation to end there, so you find something to keep talking about. “you’re new here, aren’t you? like you just started working here?”

“yeah, sort of,” he says, sitting back in his seat at the register. “i used to work here a while ago and i just came back ‘cause they needed someone.”

“oh nice,” you reply. “welcome back i guess?”

“haha, i guess,” he smiles, rubbing his hand on his neck. “it’s chill here, but it gets kinda boring.”

“tell me about it,” you chuckle. “it’s so slow during the week. i usually have nothing to do.”

“yeah, i just read or draw to pass the time,” mark says, pointing at his notepad on the counter.

“you like to draw?” you ask, curious.

“yeah,” he places a hand on the notepad, grabbing it. you can tell he’s getting shy again. “it’s just doodles.”

“you’ll have to show me some of those ‘doodles’ sometime,” you say with a sweet smile. you check your phone for the time. it’s getting closer to dinnertime and you’re starved. “i guess i’ll get out of here.”

“okay,” he stands again. “well, let me know what you think of the comic.”

“i will,” you say, turning to leave, then flipping back to look at him. “mark, right?”

he nods, asking for your name as well. he beams at you. “it’s nice to meet you. see you tomorrow?”

“see you tomorrow,” you say with a wave, walking out.

for the next week, you find yourself aching to talk to mark again. you read the comic he gave you, and it provided a little bit of insight into him… that he’s a bit of a nerd. definitely not a bad thing. it’s actually really endearing to you, knowing his life basically revolves around superheroes, free time and work alike. that he probably draws little comics in his notepad, and has sweet dreams about being superhuman. why is that so fucking cute?

you have a reason to talk to him again, of course: the next issue of spider-man. the problem is building up the courage again, which is ridiculous because he’s just a guy. a nerdy one at that, and you know that he would be putty in your hands if you really wanted him to be. but the longing you developed for him during those long hours of your shift, seeing him across the way, looking so cute in his round glasses… it’s making you nervous in a way that is difficult to explain.

you’ve been putting off going back to his store at this point. wouldn’t someone that wanted to get into superhero comics come back for the next edition? why aren’t you using your excuse to talk to him? not only that, but he even said he wanted you to come tell him what you thought of the comic. you’re just overthinking things.

you have another short shift one day, and decide today is the day. you gather your things and walk to the neighboring store, feeling the familiar butterflies you felt the first time you approached mark at the register. he’s drawing this time, crouched down and focused. he hears you walk in, lifting his head to meet your eyes. maybe you’re crazy, but it looks like his eyes light up.

“hey,” he says, closing the notepad in front of him. you present the spider-man comic to him, and he flashes a smile at you. “what’d you think?”

you chuckle, holding the comic close to your chest. “it was good, but too short. there’s another issue, right?” you joke, hoping it lands.

he lets out a giggle, “yeah, there definitely is. i’ll grab the next one for you.”

he walks over to a section near the front of the store, flipping through the excess of papers before he finds the 2nd issue. “if you liked that one, you’ll like this one even more.” he returns to the register with the issue, placing it on the counter for you.

“duel to the death with the vulture?” you read from the page. “i haven’t seen any of the movies recently so correct me if i’m wrong, but i don’t remember there being a vulture.”

“oh yeah, he’s in one of the later movies actually,” mark starts. “but you got a long way to go til you finally meet one of the iconic villians like the green goblin, or even the love interests gwen stacy or mary jane. it’ll be so worth the wait though.”

“how much do i owe you?” you ask, already pulling out your wallet.

“you can borrow it if you want,” he says.

“but this one belongs to the store, won’t you get in trouble?” you ask.

“just bring it back and it’s like it never happened,” he whispers, faking a shhh at you. “let’s just say it’s mall employee perk.”

you smile and accept it.

your new routine feels like a nice change of pace. every second of every day used to drag by, and yet at the same time, when you got home, everything that happened was so unbelievably boring that it all felt like a blur. nothing really significant happened to you. but something about trying something new, learning about a brand new niche interest, and even developing a crush… it’s finally something exciting.

you looked forward to the next time you got a new issue. not just that, but the next time you got to talk to mark. he has this charm about him that piqued your interest. it feels so easy to talk to him, as if you’ve already known each other for a long time and it isn’t just a budding friendship. you’d find yourself stopping by the comic book store a few times a week, anticipating the next comic and the underlying tension between you and mark.

like today, when you finally got off of work after a long shift. you were able to close up shop quickly and now you’re walking over to the comic book store, attempting to run in before mark locked up.

“hey, is it cool if i get the next issue real quick?” you ask, popping your head in the store.

“yeah, one sec,” he says, looking up from counting the cash in the register. “lemme just finish closing up the register.”

“are you implying that you’re gonna let me borrow another comic?” you ask, a flirty tone floating beneath.

“well of course,” he says, swiftly closing the cash drawer. “unless you want to start collecting, which by the way, SUPER expensive.”

“i think i’ll stick to being a casual reader for now,” you joke, approaching mark at the register.

“i don’t know, you might change your mind after this one,” he says, grabbing a comic from his bag. he holds it out to you, you grabbing it with your fingers briefly brushing past his. the motion makes you feel a little dizzy, and you can feel heat rising to your cheeks.

you shake your head, realizing this one doesn’t belong to the store. “wait, is this your own personal comic?”

“yeah, it’s one of my favorites,” he says, half focusing as he’s writing something on a sticky note at the counter. “i brought it in so you can borrow it.” you can see the corner of his mouth turning up, as if he’s trying to hold back a smile.

“you didn’t have to do that—”

“i wanted to,” he says, lifting his head up to hand you the sticky note he was writing on. “just treat it with care.”

you take the note, which is pale blue with a cartoon spider-man in the corner. in the middle of the note is a scrawled out phone number. you look up to see mark rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“if you want to tell me what you think?” he says, almost like a question.

“or maybe when i get bored during my shift?” you ask, chuckling.

“i’d like that a lot actually,” he smiles, his previous nervousness quickly washing away.

“you’ll regret it though,” you say, sticking the note on the front page of the comic. “because i get bored here a lot.”

“don’t worry,” mark laughs, shaking his head. “i don’t think i’ll get sick of you anytime soon.”

you finally reached issue #14 of spider-man, the one mark is lending to you. you grab it out of your bag at the beginning of your shift, sitting back in your chair behind the register and getting comfortable. you realize what it’s about and immediately text mark.

sent 10:17 am omg wait i didn’t realize this issue is the first appearance of the green goblin

you look across the way, seeing mark pick up his phone and smiling.

sent 10:18 am mark: oh yeah, he’s fuckin sick mark: you’re gonna love it

you click your phone off with a soft sigh, flipping back to your comic. you go about your shift switching from helping customers and checking them out, and reading. every once and a while, you’ll message mark with your comments and he would always reply with enthusiasm.

the end of your shift approaches quickly, and soon enough you’re closing the security shutters. you look behind you to see mark locking the doors and then doing the same. he must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he turns and flashes his famous smile to you. you walk over to him with the comic in hand.

“you were right,” you say, handing it him. “green goblin is super sick.”

“i told you,” he says, reaching for it, and your hands momentarily touching like last time. he gets flustered. “uh, i can give you the next one tomorrow if you’re working.”

“i am, yeah,” you reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “i am so curious though—when the hell does gwen stacy show up?”

“oh,” he giggles to himself. “you’re like, halfway there to finally seeing her.”

“i didn’t realize how extensive this series is,” you chuckle. “not that i’m complaining. i’m actually surprised by how much i like it.”

“i’m glad,” he says sweetly. “well, just come by tomorrow and i’ll give you the next issue.”

“i will.”

the following weeks, you became overtaken by superhero comics and stupid-fucking-adorable mark. you would read an issue of spider-man at work, and text mark with your reactions to certain scenes. at first you thought it might be annoying to him, but he actually seemed to encourage it, asking for your opinions on the characters and storyline.

it doesn’t help that every time you see mark, you get butterflies in your stomach. and it seemed to only be getting worse; you keep finding yourself smiling when his name pops up on your phone. you wake up excited to go to work, because you know you’ll probably have another interaction with him. sometimes, mark would even catch you staring at him and give a little nod with a smile. but what made things exponentially worse was when you catch him gazing at you too, catching you off guard but making a smile spread across your lips. you are smitten, and if anyone else was concerned, mark is probably smitten too. the issue is getting him to finally take the hint and making a real move on you.

he may get a little flustered around you, but he’s not exactly shy. after all, he did give you his number unprompted. but after weeks of going back and forth strictly talking about comics and work, you started to lose hope. you just want him. he must want you back just as bad.

after another closing shift, you watch the mall-goers pass by and file out of the building. the mall is basically empty now, most of the neighboring stores already closed and employees leaving for the day. you had to stay a little bit late, cleaning up a huge mess in the store from some rude customers. you thought you would have time to stop by to see mark, but with the amount of things you have to put away, your chances are looking slim.

you shuffle around the store, placing items back on the shelves and organizing the tables of merchandise. you eyes shift over to the comic book store, expecting to see it dark and locked up. but it isn’t; mark is still in there, half the lights still on, with him unboxing comics from their latest shipment. you already knew it was restock day for them (god you have way too much free time), but you didn’t realize how many boxes they got in.

you open the front door of your store, whisper-yelling through the security shutters. “mark!”

mark’s head turns to look at you and flashes a grin at you. “yo, you’re still here too?”

you nod, leaning on the glass door. you hold up a few of the displaced items in your hands. “go-backs,” you shrug.

he points at the pile of boxes in front of him, “restock. we got a lot of shit in early for christmas.”

“don’t say christmas please, i don’t want to think about it yet,” you say with a laugh.

you turn away to get back to work, putting all the merchandise back to their assigned spots. you don’t know what the hell got into people today; messing up all your organization you’ve done and putting things in all the wrong places. it didn’t help that you had to deal with some assholes with returns today too. you always theorize it’s from a full moon or mercury retrograde or something; those things must be the reason people start acting up.

after about an hour of cleaning, you finish up and can finally call it a day. you close up shop and turn to see mark still working on stocking at his store. you approach the security gate of the store, with its front door still propped open.

“i still need my next issue by the way,” you say to mark, who stands from his crouching position in front of an open box. he walks up to the gate and pushes it up, just enough for you to come through. you look hesitant.

“come in, it’s okay,” he says, motioning you in. you duck under the security gate, slipping into the store. “how was your day? looks like you had a lot to do.”

“yeah, the store was a mess,” you say, following him to the register. “i’ve never had to stay so late after close.”

“it’s only gonna get worse the closer it gets to christmas,” mark says while weaving around the boxes with you.

“what did i say about christmas?” you joke, nudging his shoulder softly.

“sorry, sorry,” he laugh, putting his hands up. you wait patiently for him as he kneels behind the register, looking for your comic. he pops back up with a stumped look on his face. “i swear i thought i put it up here to give to you but i can’t find it. i’m gonna go check the back.”

he starts walking to the back room, and looks back at you. “feel free to sit if you want. our stockroom is a wreck, this might take a sec.”

you nod to him, squeezing past the tower of boxes to sit in the chair at the register. it feels kinda funny to sit back here, like you’re seeing the store from a different perspective, from mark’s perspective. you look around behind the counter, seeing the little notes and cute super-hero knick knacks gathered around.

there’s a mini batman funko pop positioned in the corner, with a sticky note placed under his feet reading “no drinks at the register.” you look over to see a large iced coffee with mark’s name in sharpie. well, we all bend the rules a bit. his name tag is placed on the counter by a stack of comics. you grab it to take a closer look. it’s a plastic red pin with a white pop-art bubble. in the corner is a small piece of paper stuck on it, attached with office tape. on the paper is a spider-man doodle, made with red and blue marker and pen ink.

you’re sure this must’ve been drawn by mark. you have yet to see any of his drawings (despite your prying), so maybe seeing this one up close will give you a sneak peek into his style. it’s a little messy, with scratchy lines and colors bleeding outside the borders. despite that, it has a distinct style that you’re fond of. it’s not perfect, let alone does it look like the super-heroes you’ve been reading in your comics. but it has a quality to it that feels less polished and flat. it has character. the messiness makes it feel more… real.

you set his name tag down, placing it back next to the large stack of comics. these must be his go-backs. he’s been so wrapped up with his shipment he probably hasn’t had time to put them away. you think maybe it would be nice to help a bit. he’s been nice enough to let you borrow comics from the store, and you’re just waiting around after all.

you pick up the stack of comics, situating them into your arms, when you look down and see that under the stack is mark’s notepad. it’s not closed like you’re used to seeing it, opened to a clean white page with a drawing covering up a majority of it. it’s in a comic book style, you’re not surprised. but it has the same quality that his name tag doodle does; scrawly and messy, with no real precise lines. the colors are splashed across the page, with blotches of scribbled colored marker decorating it. then realize what it is—who it is.

it’s you.

the whole image captures you and a little bit of your surroundings. positioned at your normal spot at the register, you’re looking down at a comic with your fingers playing with the ends of your hair. but it has a dream-like feel to it, with the pages of the comic illuminating your face as if a source of power is emanating from it. and then the best part: the wings. placed behind your shoulders are pair of feathered wings, outstretched in a sketched black ink. it’s beautiful.

it’s beautiful and it’s you. mark drew you.

“yo, sorry that took so long,” mark says while emerging from the back, eyes still focused on the comic in his hands. “i finally found it, but dude i had to do some digging—”

mark’s words are cut short when he notices you holding his notepad, comics that were placed atop abandoned on the counter by you. he visibly gulps.

“mark…” you start, not moving your eyes from the drawing. “what’s this?” without a response for a few moments, you tear your eyes away to see mark with blush on his cheeks, mouth open but unable to let any words out. “did you… did you draw me?”

“look, it gets really slow during the day, i just did a little sketch to pass time—”

“mark, this isn’t just a sketch,” you say, looking back down at the notepad. “this is amazing.”

“y-you like it?” mark says, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“of course i like it,” you say.

“you don’t think it’s weird that i drew you without telling you?” mark asks, nervousness radiating from him.

“i don’t think it’s weird at all,” you say. “i actually love it. i like that you drew me as a superhero too, and one with wings at that.”

mark stays quiet, looking at his feet and probably overthinking everything right now. you look back up at him, tension building in your stomach as you ask what you already know the answer to. “you like me, don’t you?”

mark lifts his head to meet your eyes. he bites his lip anxiously as he nods slowly.

a streak of courage overtakes you as you grab his arm to pull him closer, him tripping over his own feet and crashing into your chest. you’re leaned against the counter, with mark’s arm behind you and hand placed flat on the surface. your faces are close, and you can feel his breath. his eyes are glued onto your lips, and he swallows thickly.

“mark, just kiss me,” you mumble, aching for him.

he wastes no time, leaning in to slot his lips between yours. he snakes an arm around your waist, holding you as close as he can. you melt into him, goosebumps floating across your skin in all-consuming desire. you move your hand to hold his cheek, thumb swiping on his smooth skin and fingers tangled in his soft, messy hair.

he pulls away, breath still shaky. “i’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long…” he trails off before leaning in and kissing you again, this time with more passion. he swipes his tongue between your lips, with you willingly accepting him. his hands trail up and down your sides, then finally places a firm grip on your waist and lifting you to sit on the counter. he slots between your legs, his body pressed close to yours. your fingers card through his hair, earning a sweet hum from him.

his hands trail down to your ass, pushing you closer against him to where you feel the bulge forming in his jeans. he can’t even hold back his moan, it being muffled by your lips. he pulls away again, this time kissing from your cheek down to your neck. he sucks at the expanse of skin while he caresses the other side of your throat. you let out a soft hum in pleasure, savoring every bite and lick—

“fuck, you sound so hot too,” he says in between kisses. he moves a hand down to your breast, kneading it roughly. you throw your head back, soaking in the pleasure from just his hands alone. his beautiful fucking hands, the ones that drew you. his lips feel so good on you, but his hands feel even better. it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment for eternity and he doesn’t want to let you go. almost as if holding you, touching you is the only thing keeping him grounded in reality. it doesn’t feel real to you either; that mark, the cute boy you’ve had a crush on for weeks and weeks is kissing you, holding you, and yearning for you all the same.

you feel so wrapped up in the moment that you almost forget that you’re in public. sure, there’s no one left in the mall and the only people left are probably mall security, but the risk of being seen is still there. it just feels too good to stop.

“mark,” you say, giving in to the anxiety. “are we really doing this? right here, right now?”

he pulls back to look at you, still holding you close. “it’s just us here, and if it’s okay with you, i don’t think i can wait any longer.”

“i don’t think i can either,” you respond.

suddenly mark is ripping your clothes off, all while pulling you both behind one of the comic display cases. it’s your turn to take his clothes off, and you’re yanking his jacket off and pulling up his graphic tee and discarding them both on the floor. the exchange is a jumbled mess of constant touching of skin and clothes flying in every direction, a true testament to how desperate you both want each other. he’s kissing you all the while, taking every opportunity to peck at you between the tugging of clothes.

he leans you against the display bookshelf full of comics, completely unbothered when an issue or two falls off. your hand travels down into this jeans, feeling him hard and pulsing against your palm. you stroke his length slowly, focusing most of the stimulation on his dripping head. he lifts one of your legs slightly to get better access to you under your skirt, then looks at you as if he’s asking for permission.

you nod your head profusely before leaning in to kiss him deeply. it doesn’t last long, because suddenly he’s pushing inside you and you’re gasping at the stretch—

“you’re so—fuck—so fucking tight,” he hisses, attempting to push in as slowly as he can. your mouth is fully agape in bliss as he finally bottoms out, reaching deep inside of you. he catches your eyes, lust filled in his own as he slowly starts to move.

he’s slow at first, knowing that his size is stretching you out to the point where it’s nearly painful. but it feels so fucking good, his cock dragging in and out of your tight walls. you can tell he wants to pick up the pace, with his breath shuddering with each stroke. you take the opportunity to kiss him again, wanting to taste his soft lips as he gradually begins to pound into you.

he’s groaning against your lips, and your moans are muffled against his. you’re trying to salvage any sort of public decency by holding back your sounds the best you can. it’s when he grabs your legs and lifts you to press you against the display shelf that you realize that that shred of awareness of your surroundings is about to be long fucking gone.

he’s holding you up by gripping your ass, pistoning into you at a pace that you can only describe as brutal. it’s no use trying to stifle your moans anymore, with him hitting your cervix over and over and making you see stars at each stroke—

“mark, it feels so fucking good,” you can only whine out to him, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter, tugging at his hair—

“you feel so fucking good, jesus,” he groans against your neck, heaving breaths tickling at your throat.

his pace is wild, but the force in which he’s pounding into you begins to cause the comic books around you to tumble off the shelves, creating a pile at mark’s feet. he doesn’t seem to care though. that is, until a comic book falls from a shelf above you and hits him on the head.

“ah!” he exclaims, realizing what happened. he stops his movements to look at you, holding back a smile.

you can’t hold back your laugh, giggling profusely at the ridiculousness of the situation. he laughs too, shaking his head and letting out a sigh.

“this is crazy,” he says, resting his forehead on yours.

“i know,” you reply, still giggling. with one last laugh, he leans in and kisses you tenderly, smile still formed on his lips. you melt into him, ruffling your fingers through his hair as he begins to pick back up the roll of his hips into you.

it feels like a sweet moment, the fact that you can be doing such a scandalous act and still giggle with him. the tenderness doesn’t last for long, however, when he hits that perfect spot inside you that forces you to release a sharp moan.

“mark, oh my god,” you whimper, attempting to roll your hips down onto him. “keep doing that, please—”

“fuuuck,” he groans, feeling your core clenching around his length. “you take me so well, baby.”

all you can do now is nod, whimpering and whining on him. you can’t believe that this man that has always been so endearing, so kind and lovable has this completely different side to him that you’re only now getting to experience. it brings a different sort of intrigue to him; that he’s more than just a cute boy that works at a mall. he’s complex. he’s a fucking man. he’s a fucking. sex. god.

his breathing starts to become irregular, and his pace is back to merciless. his groans, fuck, his moaning. he’s bouncing you on his cock in the perfect way to where your moans are matching his. you can feel his dick pulsing inside you—

“i’m gonna cum,” he can only breathe out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “can i?”

“yes mark, please,” you whine, tugging at the ends of his hair. all the while you’re clenching around his cock, bringing him closer and closer to his release.

with a low groan, his hips stutter and you feel his seed spilling into you, completely filling you up. the rocking of his hips stall, and he’s finally letting you down and kissing you sweetly, caressing your cheek with his hand.

“god, you are fucking perfect,” he whispers to you. you let out a giggle, leaning your forehead against his. “hey, i’m not done with you yet.”

he quickly moves you to the glass display counter, lifting you to sit you on it. he pushes your thighs open, lifting your skirt up to get a better look at you. he looks enamored, like he’s starving and the only thing to appease his hunger is by having you on his mouth.

he dives in, licking a stripe up your core with a groan. he repeats this action, as if he’s savoring every drop of your essence mixed with his release that’s slowly dripping out of you—

“so fucking hot,” he hums, releasing a hand from your thigh to tease at your entrance.

“mark, please,” you beg. “stop teasing—”

he attaches his mouth to your clit, swirling his tongue around in smooth, controlled circles. your hands fly to his head, body already twitching from stimulation. his finger is still prodding at your hole, wanting to enter but not just yet. he instead continues to ravage at your sensitive bud, intentional movements making your head spin. he knows what he’s doing and he knows he’s good, especially with the shaking of your thighs and high pitched moans escaping your lips egging him on.

he looks up at you, flattening his tongue out and doing long, drawn out licks. the eye contact is insane, the lust filled in them only making it that much hotter. he’s enjoying every second of this, seeing you shake and begging him to keep going. he loves the taste of you too, so sweet and almost addictive. he could die like this.

his teasing finger finally starts to deepen inside you, slowly at first. he can feel every pulse of your core around his finger, and it’s so hot that he can feel himself getting hard again. and you’re so wet, oh my god, so fucking wet. your arousal is dripping down his chin and his hand, making a sticky mess. when you start to roll your hips onto his face, he swears he’s in heaven.

he inserts another finger, feeling that tightness grip around them. it’s only getting more erratic now, clenching around him with each grind of your hips. he curls his fingers to prod at that sensitive spot, causing you to moan out his name—

“mark, don’t stop,” you whine, looking down at him basically making out with your pussy.

he continues the same movements, repeatedly hitting your g spot and swirling his dripping tongue on your clit. your back arches and legs unintentionally close around his head, making him push them back open with his free hand.

and then he starts humming against you. the vibrations send a shock wave through your body, that mixed with his fingers, his tongue, his hand gripping tightly against your thigh… it feels so intense and so so good. you cum on his tongue, with him desperately holding your hips down and he helps you ride out your high. he doesn’t stop until you’re shaking, and you have to grab his head and lift it.

“oh my god,” you gasp, slowly coming down.

he smirks up at you with arousal-coated lips. “yeah, oh my god.” he stands up, immediately going to kiss you and you accepting him, wrapping your arms around him. he pulls away and leans his head against yours.

“i can’t believe we just did that,” he says, sighing out an exasperated laugh.

“i know, what the fuck, right?” you giggle.

“are you- are you doing anything right now?” he asks. “like, do you wanna get food or something?”

“are you asking me on a date?” you ask teasingly.

“don’t tell me you decided you’re creeped out by the drawing now,” he laughs.

“yeah. suuuper creeped out,” you joke, leaning in for another kiss. you hear a noise behind you, and look out through the security shutters to see a mall security guard passing by, scrolling through his phone.

“looks like he just missed the show,” mark says, causing you both to try and hold back your fit of giggles.

a/n: thank u guys for reading! i rly enjoyed this one hehe :-) please leave feedback as i'm new to writing, and reblog to support me! it motivates me to write more!

✰taglist✰ @skz1-4-3 @oddracha @luvbit3z @tunafishyfishylike @seomisaho @haizbby @hoeforalbedo @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna

add me to the taglist!

[sushiyuzu]

my turn

warning: fluff + comfort — it is finally your turn to return your devoted love and affection to soft!sylus 🤍

a/n: hi anon! many thanks for ur sweet words and request, i hope you enjoy <3

anon’s request / link: click here

hmm.

you’ve never seen sylus this quiet before.

you’ve always known sylus to be the confident one—the serious, bold, intimidating man who always seems to have everything under control. he’s the one who teases you with his smooth, elegant words, who pulls you close with a charming smile that makes your heart race. but today, you decide it’s your turn to change things up.

he’s sitting quietly in the living room, reading a book with that focused expression he gets when he’s deep into something. you take a moment to watch him, admiring his handsome face and the way his silver hair falls over his forehead. you’ve never seen him look so calm, so peaceful. a playful idea forms in your mind, and before you can second-guess it, you move closer.

you slip into his lap without warning, wrapping your arms around his neck. his eyes widen, his crimson gaze meeting yours with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

“what are you doing?” he asks, his voice low and smooth, the usual edge of authority still there. you smile and lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“nothing,” you say softly, your lips brushing his skin. “just loving you.”

before he can respond, you kiss him again—this time on the other cheek, then on his jaw, your fingers threading through his silver hair. you can feel his body tense beneath you, his posture rigid like he’s not sure how to handle your sudden affection.

“you’re being... very forward,” he murmurs, his deep voice wavering slightly. clearly, he’s trying to keep his composure, but you can see the blush creeping up his cheeks, the way his eyes are flickering with uncertainty. it’s just so unlike him that it makes you giggle.

“i can’t help it,” you say, tightening your arms around him, your lips brushing against the corner of his mouth. “you’re just so handsome.” your voice is soft and sincere, and you watch as his confident mask slips just a little.

he swallows, his crimson eyes wide as he stares at you, clearly not used to you being this bold.

you decide to push him further, to see just how flustered you can make him. “i love you,” you whisper against his ear, your voice sweet and affectionate. you press a kiss to his temple, then his nose, then his lips. he freezes, his breath hitching, and you can feel the way his heartbeat racing against your chest.

“what has gotten into you?” sylus asks, his usual smooth tone cracking just a bit. he looks genuinely taken aback, his elegant words faltering as you continue to pepper his face with soft kisses. you giggle again, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his neck.

“just loving you,” you say again, more firmly this time.

“you always take care of me, so now it’s my turn to show you how much you mean to me.” you smile, your eyes shining with warmth, and he blinks at you like he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening.

and that almost makes you burst out laughing.

keyword: almost.

“you’re... ridiculous,” he mutters, his voice low and unsteady, but there’s no real irritation in his tone—only a soft, shaky vulnerability. his hands settle on your waist, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear. “you’re supposed to be the shy one, not me.”

you smile wider, leaning in to press your forehead against his. “maybe i’m tired of being shy,” you tease gently. “maybe i want you to be the one who blushes for once.”

his eyes narrow slightly, like he��s about to say something clever, but the words seem to catch in his throat. instead, he just stares at you, his crimson gaze searching your face, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep his usual composure. you feel a surge of affection for him—this strong, confident man who’s so easily undone by your love.

so you kiss him again, long and slow, your hands framing his face, your thumbs brushing over his high cheekbones. this time, he doesn’t resist. he melts into the kiss, his hands tightening on your waist, squeezing your flesh gently and you feel him shudder against you. when you finally pull back, his face is flushed, his breathing uneven, and he looks... shy. truly shy, like he’s never been before.

“you’re... unbelievable,” he says softly, his voice a little hoarse, his eyes half-lidded and warm. you can see the struggle in him—wanting to regain control, to be the calm and composed sylus that you know, but your gentle touches are making it impossible for him to act like his usual self.

and it drives him nervously crazy.

“so are you,” you reply, kissing his forehead. you can see him fighting the blush that’s spreading across his cheeks, his eyes glancing away like he’s embarrassed, and it makes your heart swell with warmth. you cup his face, guiding his gaze back to yours, and you can see the way he’s holding back a smile.

“you really are beautiful, you know that?” you say, your voice gentle and sincere. “i don’t tell you that enough.” you lean closer, pressing your lips to his ear. “you mean the world to me, sylus. i love you so much.”

you feel him tremble beneath you, his grip on your waist tightening, and you pull back just enough to see his expression—completely soft, completely open. he’s not trying to hide anymore, and there’s something incredibly sweet about seeing him this vulnerable, this undone by your love.

“you’re going to make me go insane,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper, and there’s a rough, raw honesty in his tone that takes your breath away. he’s not used to being the one overwhelmed, but he’s not pushing you away, either. instead, he leans in, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closing as he lets out a shaky breath.

“then let’s go insane together,” you say softly, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. he makes a soft sound, almost a whimper, and kisses you back—slow and deep and so full of emotion that it makes your heart skip a beat.

you pull away just enough to see his face—his eyes half-lidded, his cheeks a warm shade of pink, and his expression so soft it makes your chest ache.

“you don’t have to be perfect with me,” you whisper, brushing a strand of silver hair away from his forehead. “i love you just as you are.”

he’s quiet for a long moment, his gaze locked on yours, and then he smiles—a real, gentle smile that makes his ruby eyes shine. “i love you most, sweetie.” he says softly, his voice steady and sincere, and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

you smile back, feeling a warmth spread through your chest, and you hug him tight, burying your face in his shoulder. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you can feel the way he’s finally letting go of that careful, controlled exterior. he’s just sylus now—your sylus, the one who loves you with all his heart, who isn’t afraid to show you his softer side.

oh, he’s so in love.

only with you.

just you, forever.

while you’re lost in the warmth of his hug, you suddenly feel his lips touch your shoulder. there’s a small, teasing pause, and then he gently nibbles at your skin—a light bite that makes you shiver. you gasp quietly, your heart fluttering with surprise, but before you can even react, he follows it with a soft, gentle kiss, pressing his lips where he cutely bit you. the touch is warm and comforting, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“sylus,” you whisper his name, a little surprised but mostly filled with affection, and he laughs quietly, the sound low and sweet. he’s still holding you close, his breath warm against your neck, and you can feel that he’s smiling—like he’s happy to share this new, tender closeness with you.

and deep down, that makes you giddy.

“i couldn’t resist,” he says in a soft whisper, his voice gentle and playful in your ear. his tone still carries a hint of his usual confidence, but it’s softer now. his arms pull you even closer, and you can feel the steady, comforting beat of his heart as you lean against his chest.

“you’re just too tempting,” he adds, his lips brushing your shoulder again. you can’t help but laugh softly, holding him tighter, your arms wrapped around his neck. you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek, feeling warmth spread through you—a feeling of love that fills every corner of your heart.

“and you,” you say softly, your voice full of love, “are absolutely perfect.”

he makes a quiet, happy sound, gently nuzzling his face into your neck. you can feel him smile against your skin, his warmth so close and comforting. his fingers start to trace gentle patterns on your back, moving slowly, and you can tell he’s calm and relaxed. his breathing slows, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, and you feel safe and happy in his arms.

you stay like that, wrapped up in each other’s embrace, for a long time. the room is quiet except for the sound of your breathing, and it feels like the rest of the world has disappeared. his strong, big arms keep you close, and you can feel every bit of him—the warmth of his chest, the softness of his breath, the way he holds you like he never wants to let go.

you lift your head slightly, just enough to look into his sweet eyes. there’s something more softer in them now, something that’s just for you.

only for you.

you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his lips, slow and warm, and he kisses you back, his hand moving up to cradle your cheek. you feel his thumb gently brush your skin, and he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

when you finally pull away, his forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-closed and his face relaxed. he looks softer, more open than ever before, and it makes your heart ache with love.

you give him one more quick kiss on the tip of his nose, making him chuckle softly. he tightens his arms around you, holding you so close that you can feel the warmth of his body all around you.

“i love you,” you whisper, and you say it again, over and over, softly against his skin—each “i love you” gentle and full of emotion. he closes his eyes, listening, and you feel the way he relaxes even more, like each word you say fills him with warmth.

he lets out a quiet sigh, pressing another kiss to your shoulder, and you can feel him melt into your touch. his strong, protective exterior has softened, and you can see a slight blush on his cheeks, a sign that he’s a little overwhelmed by all the affection you’re giving him. but he doesn’t move away. he just stays right there, holding you tightly, his face hidden in the crook of your neck, soaking up every bit of your love.

you don’t let go either. instead, you rest your head against his shoulder, feeling his warm breath fanning your skin while his fingers continue to gently stroke your back.

you’re both wrapped up in a safe, warm bubble where nothing else matters except the two of you, and you know that this—being with sylus, being this close—is all you’ll ever need. and you know, in that moment, that this is exactly where you belong—right here in his arms, loving him with all the warmth and affection he truly deserves.

[simping-overload]

ɢʀᴇᴇᴋ ɢᴏᴅꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ᴡɪɴɢᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ

a/n: the wings take inspo from maleficent. Colors, and other details are left vague! Feel free to send an ask for any other god for pt 2!

tags: wings, fluff, romance, human? reader, gods, headcanons format. completely gn reader! no gender ever mentioned. Not proof read!!!

characters: zeus, hera, ares, aphrodiate, hephaestus, hermes

Disclaimer: this combines the world of the og Greek texts, blood of zeus, epic the musical, hades game, and my personal view of the gods. this can contain improper or ooc information. I have favorites if it's not obvious.

if you wish to support me please consider donating to my kofi or requesting a commission so I can help feed both my cats and colony cats of my neighborhood!!!

ᴢᴇᴜꜱ

-> loves them, finds that they add on to your beauty. teh strength of your wings impress him greatly, and he'd love to watch you fly. he sometimes likes to fly with you, turning into his bird form so you can race. yes, he will get upset if he loses and zeus tantrum ensues.

-> kiss, kiss, kisses them all the time. not an each of wing is left untouched. he knows where all of your senstive bits are and will use it to his advantage. the spot between your wings is teased relentlessly and often found to be covered in hickeys.

-> he has a painting of your wings and has them placed somewhere on his palace walls and likes to look at it frequently. he makes sure to get one that involves both him and your wings eventually as well. he's adamant that you have your wings around him as your sleep regardless of the position. he enjoys the feeling of your feathers against his skin greatly.

ʜᴇʀᴀ

-> finds your wings to be beautiful. She appreciates them for their appearance and their strength. she can often find herself captivated at the way they move even when idle. she loves flying with you, not to race but to simply relax. she likes to go sight seeing with you, pretty areas you find are often new vacation spots you use to get away from everyone.

-> she likes to touch them, where they connect with your back. the feathers are the softest there, and where your the most sensitive. somtimes she likes teasing you via letting her hands ghost around that area. she also likes to kiss your wings. she often does collect your feathers, adding them to her daily appearance since she wants to both look good(she always does) and have something to constantly remind her of you.

-> she finds it comfortable to be wrapped up in your wings. so please, let her rest against your chest safe in each other's arms as your wings are wrapped around her. blocking the rest of the world from reaching her.

ᴀʀᴇꜱ

-> he's indifferent about your wings, but he's worried about their fragility. at the beginning, he refused to spar with you on this pretense, but that changed when you managed to slap somebody with your wing and send them flying. when you spar, he's still careful and makes sure not to damage your wings intentionally.

-> just like his mother, he also likes to touch them, can quite find them therapeutic when he needs to calm down. he used to be and still is scared of breaking them, he's witnessed how easily his hands can break things and he doesn't want to break you. also because he accidentally pulled a feather out and didn't touch your wings willingly for a while. he doesn't kiss your wings but he smothers his face in them and just chills there.

-> the feathers that shead from your wings get collected for his helmet crest/plume(it's the brush looking thing on greek helms) when he finally acquires enough he'd have them condensed and into a newer helmet that he'd wear to battle.

ᴀᴘʜʀᴏᴅɪᴀᴛᴇ

-> she loves them! quite obsessed with them, actually. she makes sure they're taken care of and beautiful at any hour of day. she usually has a servant take care of them as she watches, making sure they're up to standard or she'd do it herself.

-> she collects your feathers, adding them onto the clothing she wears to show off who she's with. any feathers she can't put into clothes are tucked away in a box for later. don't bother worry the amount of feathers you'd eventually end up with and possibly hiding them. she will always end up finding them and will get upset with you.

-> she likes to sleep in your arms already and the wings are just a bonus. and even when you aren't in bed sleeping, regardless if your simply going about with your day doing whatever. she likes to hide in your wings to avoid her any duties and people.

ʜᴇᴘʜᴀᴇꜱᴛᴜꜱ

-> finds them quite beautiful and interesting. He doesn't worry about the fragility since he has a handle on his strength already. regardless of if you are a warrior or not, he wants to create armor for you. he almost reminds you of a strict seamstress when he takes your measurements.

-> he doesn't really do anything with your feathers aside for using them for a fidget. When he's looking over blueprints or paperwork, he lets himself twist it between his fingers and runs his fingers through it. like he does with his pencils he subconsciously tucks the feather into his ear or into his hair.

-> he doesn't mind being wrapped up into your wings but prefers when you lay on his chest/against him with your wings spread out across the large bed. he likes to run his fingers against the thick bones and feathers as he finds it easier to fall asleep.

ʜᴇʀᴍᴇꜱ

-> wants to race you and is quite impressed if you can keep up but even if you can't, he appreciates the effort. he likes to be held by you and fly with you on his breaks, enjoying your company and the view at the same time. he also would help you take care of them, preening is a new favorite pass time of his.

-> hands and lips are all over the wings. running his hands through them any chance he possibly has as he relaxes. he steals your feathers, he has no use for them but he likes to have them on his long messenger trips to help him feel less home sick. the feather helps him keep his head on his shoulders when he's all stressed out.

-> wrap him in your wings like you'd roll a cat into a burrito. He likes them, and even if he suffocates, he wld be content it. Just like aphrodiate he'd use your wings as cover for when he's hiding away from his duties or people, forcing himself into your arms and having you hide him in your wings as discretely as possible.

[snail-day]

Can My Friend Join?

Your boyfriend wants his murderer of a best friend to join your relationship. You'll do that for him, right?

Yan!SatoSugu x Reader

Part two

TW: Yandere Behaviors, dubcon/noncon?, Manipulation, SatoSugu, Potential grammatical/spelling errors, oral/fingering (f! receiving), Trapping/love bombing. MDNI

WC: 5.2k

You see, it wasn’t totally unlike your boyfriend to make crazy decisions.

Satoru was rash, impulsive, yet completely and utterly in love with you in a way that made it hard to say no to him. And he always knew how to work that to his advantage. You’d let him get away with just about anything—like buying a penthouse in Shibuya without even stepping foot in it, or whisking you off on spontaneous trips for “work” that had your boss threatening to fire you every time you gave him a last-minute call about your absence.

Crazy decisions were his specialty, after all. Including the craziest one of all: dating you, a non sorcerer, that was not a well-kept secret from his clan.

And now, his most recent decision was leaving you staring at him in stunned disbelief.

“Come on, baby, he’s going to therapy,” Satoru murmured into your ear, his arms snug around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. His voice was soft, almost coaxing, as he peppered gentle kisses along the curve of your neck. “You remember Sugu, right? You even mentioned you had a little crush on him before we started dating.”

Suguru Geto. The man who’d slaughtered a village, started a cult, and declared genocide on nonsorcerers like you.

But now, according to Satoru, he was “better.” Redeemed, even. Whatever that meant. He wasn’t a deranged cult leader anymore, apparently. Therapy had fixed him. Or at least, that’s what Satoru was claiming with his usual breezy confidence.

“My love,” you began softly, setting the tea you’d been preparing down to turn and face him. His cerulean eyes shone with that familiar affection, the corners crinkling slightly as he gazed down at you like you hung the moon. It made your chest ache. “I know you two… had a thing. But why does he need to be a part of our relationship?”

You tried to keep your tone gentle, like you were trying to reason with him. Because, honestly, you were.

Satoru tilted his head, his grin widening just enough to tell you he’d been prepared for this question. “Mmm, well,” he started, the teasing lilt of his voice softening. “You were there for me, weren’t you? You’ve kept me grounded—saved me, even.” He leaned in to nuzzle against your cheek. “I figured… maybe you could do the same for him. Help him down a better path, you know? Keep an eye on him.”

Your heart sank.

“And,” he added with a sheepish laugh, his blush deepening as his hand rubbed the back of his neck, “well, he was actually the one who suggested it.”

That had your stomach twisting uncomfortably. You searched his face for answers, for some sign that this wasn’t as serious as it sounded. But all you found was that lovesick smile of his.

And you knew.

Satoru still had feelings for Suguru. He’d never said it outright, but the signs were there. The way his voice softened when he spoke of him. The wistful, almost mournful glint in his eyes whenever Suguru’s name came up. And, of course, the times he’d accidentally murmured Suguru’s name in moments of intimacy with you.

Your throat felt tight.

“Satoru…” You struggled to find the words, to balance the storm of emotions swirling in your chest. Jealousy. Confusion. Heartbreak. And, strangely enough, pity.

“It won’t change anything between us,” he said quickly, like he could see your doubts forming. His hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing soothingly against your skin. “I promise. You’re my person—my love. I just… I can’t let him go again. Not like before.”

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. “And what if I can’t do this? What if I can’t… share you?”

Satoru’s expression softened, his usual playful confidence replaced with something raw and pleading. “Please,” he murmured, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. It wasn’t like him to plead. To beg. “Just think about it, okay? You won’t be home alone as much anymore when I’m out on missions. With Suguru back, there’ll be two strongest sorcerers. That means I won’t have to work or be on call as much. I’m thinking about us, baby.”

His words were so earnest, so filled with affection, that they pressed against your chest like a weight. You should’ve voiced your opinions, should’ve argued, but the guilt crept in before you could. Satoru had done so much for you—letting you live with him rent-free, covering your schooling, and showering you with a kind of love that had felt impossible in a world where you were so much weaker than him.

How could you say no to him? Not after everything.

So, what if you were allowing some murderer into your relationship? Satoru said he was better now. Satoru loved you. He wouldn’t steer you wrong… right?

You bit your lip, glancing away before nodding hesitantly. “Can we… take things slow, Toru?” Your voice was soft, almost unsure, as you sheepishly met his gaze.

Satoru’s face lit up with relief, his cerulean eyes shining so brightly it was almost blinding. “Oh, of course, baby. As slow as you need to. I know I can be a bit… eager, heh,” he said with a nervous laugh, his hands cupping your cheeks tenderly. Then, with a playful grin, he squished them together, molding your lips into silly fishy shapes.

“There it is! Cute as ever,” he teased, leaning closer, his voice softer now. “But I still love you. You know that, right?”

You nodded automatically, leaning into his touch despite the unease swirling in your stomach. Perhaps, you were overthinking this. Relationships need a bit of spice, right?

“I know,” you murmured, forcing a small smile. “I love you too.”

The words almost came automatically, yet your anxiety continued to ring alarming bells.

He grinned, his usual teasing confidence returning as he kissed your forehead. “That’s my baby. I knew you’d understand.”

And so, within a week, Suguru Geto moved in.

It was awkward at first. You weren’t sure how to act around him—this man who carried a dark, complicated history yet exuded a calm, almost disarming aura. Offering shy smiles felt like the extent of your bravery, and more often than not, you retreated to the sanctuary of your bedroom.

At least Suguru had the decency to move into the guest room initially. That small gesture was a relief in itself. And thankfully, with Satoru and Suguru being sorcerers, you were rarely alone with him. At least not yet.

But Suguru was... considerate. You couldn’t deny that. He had a quiet, almost effortless charm, and while you had your issues—big issues—you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was a handsome, beautiful man.

“Ah, do you need help?” Suguru asked one day, his deep voice breaking the silence as he spotted you reaching for the Christmas decorations tucked away on the highest shelf of the closet.

You froze for a moment, clutching at the edge of the shelf. “No, I’ll be alright… thank you,” you murmured, your voice almost too shy.

Suguru tilted his head, his dark eyes softening as he took a step closer. “It’s no trouble. Here.” Without waiting for permission, he reached up effortlessly, his height making quick work of retrieving the box.

You thanked him quietly, clutching the box as you avoided his gaze. His lips quirked into a faint smile, but he said nothing, stepping back to give you space.

Then there were the times he helped without hesitation, like during grocery trips.

Satoru would inevitably dart off down the aisles, hunting for sweets or whatever caught his attention. Suguru, on the other hand, stuck to your side, the picture of calm efficiency. He’d scan the list you held, nodding thoughtfully before reaching for items on the shelves—always grabbing your favorite brands without you needing to say a word.

“You cook often, don’t you?” he remarked once, glancing at the cart as he placed a box of your preferred pasta into it.

“Uh, yeah,” you replied, startled by how observant he was. “It’s… kind of relaxing.”

He hummed in agreement, his expression neutral but not unkind. “I can see that. I’ll have to try some of your cooking sometime.”

The comment left you flustered, unsure how to respond. Satoru would’ve teased you mercilessly, but Suguru simply kept moving, scanning the shelves like he wasn’t even aware of the small storm brewing in your chest.

It was moments like these—small, thoughtful gestures and quiet interactions—that left you unsettled. Suguru wasn’t what you expected. You’d braced yourself for someone dangerous, cold, someone you couldn’t trust. But instead, he was... kind. Maybe too kind.

And that was what unnerved you the most.

Because every time you caught his lingering gaze or noticed the way he seemed to effortlessly fit into your routines, you couldn’t help but wonder: Was he doing this for Satoru? Or was he doing it for you?

It started off slow. Like a light sprinkle before the storm. 

Satoru was still the same as ever—the fun-loving boyfriend, full of laughter and mischief. He’d press kisses to your cheek, wrap you in his arms, and tease you in that playful way that made your heart flutter. But lately, his words carried a strange edge, a hint of something you couldn’t quite place.

“Maybe start showing Sugu a bit of love,” he teased one evening, nuzzling against your neck as you brushed your teeth. “He’s trying, y’know. Don’t be difficult, baby.”

You froze for a moment, the brush stilling in your hand as you quickly spit out the toothpaste. That… hurt. His tone was light, but the implication stung. Was he disappointed in you?

Still, you managed a tight smile and nodded, swallowing your unease. “I’ll try.”

Satoru grinned, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. “That’s my baby.”

But then Suguru began to be more… involved.

It wasn’t anything overt at first. He’d sit quietly in the living room while you watched TV, occasionally commenting on the plot like a polite guest. Not as the boyfriend he was supposed to be, that you didn’t want him to be. He’d help with household chores without being asked, his quiet competence a stark contrast to Satoru’s chaotic energy.

But there was something about the way his presence lingered—like a shadow stretching further than it should.

“Tired?” he asked one evening, his voice like honey as you struggled to keep your eyes open on the couch. You felt him sit down beside you, close enough that his warmth seeped into your side.

You nodded, your words slurring slightly. “Yeah… long day.”

Suguru reached out, his fingers brushing against your temple as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The touch was gentle, almost tender, but his dark eyes… they hid something.

“You should rest more,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “Satoru worries about you.”

You blinked, struggling to process his words. “He does?”

Suguru smiled faintly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course. We both do.”

The way he said it—we—sent a strange chill down your spine.

As the days passed, the small, unsettling moments began to pile up.

Suguru had a way of always being there, always watching. When you left a room, you’d turn to find his gaze following you. When you spoke, he listened so intently it felt like he was dissecting your every word.

And Satoru, who’d always been possessive in his teasing way, started pushing boundaries in ways he hadn’t before.

One evening, as you tried to excuse yourself to your bedroom after dinner, Satoru caught your wrist, pulling you back to the living room where Suguru sat quietly.

“Don’t run off so quick,” he said, his grin wide but his grip firm. “We’re a family now, aren’t we? Stay with us for a bit.”

Suguru looked up from his tea, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Satoru’s right,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small, almost inviting smile. “It’s nice when we’re all together.”

The way they looked at you—Satoru’s bright gaze brimming with love, Suguru’s dark eyes filled with something deeper, darker—made you feel trapped.

And then, Satoru had to leave.

He was off to Kenya for a mission with a student, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the apartment felt… quieter. You’d thought, perhaps foolishly, that Suguru would be sent off somewhere too, leaving you to breathe for a moment, to process.

But no.

Suguru stayed.

The first few nights felt strange, the absence of Satoru’s boundless energy a sharp contrast to Suguru’s quiet, deliberate presence. He wasn’t pushy—if anything, he gave you more space than usual, offering soft smiles and polite conversation. But there was always something in the air, something unspoken, something that made the silence between you feel heavier than it should.

And then, one night, as you lay in what felt like a bed too big without Satoru’s warmth beside you, you felt it—a hand wrapping around your waist, firm yet gentle, pulling you back against a solid chest.

Your breath hitched as a woodsy, earthy scent filled your nose, inky dark hair brushing against your shoulders.

Your heart sank once again, something it’s been doing a little too much as of late. 

“You’re awake,” Suguru murmured softly, his voice warm and low, like he’d been waiting for you to notice. His lips ghosted against your cheek in a feather-light kiss, making your skin prickle. “Satoru said I should join you. Keep you safe.”

Safe? The word felt foreign, almost cruel, as if it was meant to comfort you when it did the exact opposite.

“Suguru,” you said, your voice trembling as you tried to pull away, but his arm around your waist tightened, holding you in place.

“Shh,” he soothed, his breath warm against your ear. “It’s okay. I know it feels strange, but Satoru trusts me to look after you. He said you get lonely when he’s away.”

Your stomach twisted. This wasn’t Satoru’s doing—at least, not entirely. This was Suguru, using Satoru’s words, his trust, to inch closer, to blur the lines you’d been desperately trying to hold onto.

“You don’t have to do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

His hand moved, sliding up to rest lightly against your ribs, his touch slow and deliberate. “I want to,” he murmured. “You deserve someone to care for you, even when Satoru can’t. That’s what we agreed on, isn’t it?”

You froze. Agreed on?

The realization hit you like a wave, cold and suffocating. This wasn’t just Satoru’s idea. This wasn’t just about keeping you “safe” or “happy.” This was part of something bigger, something the two of them had decided for you, without you.

“I don’t think—” you started, but Suguru cut you off, his voice still maddeningly calm.

“You don’t have to think,” he said softly, almost kindly, as his fingers brushed against your jaw, tilting your head slightly so he could press a kiss to your temple. “Just go to sleep, yeah?”

But the way his grip on you remained firm, the way his body pressed so closely against yours, made it abundantly clear that this wasn’t a request.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a frantic rhythm that you were sure he could feel where his arm wrapped around your waist. Go to sleep? How could you possibly sleep with this man lying so close, his breath steady against the back of your neck, his warmth invading every inch of your space?

Suguru shifted slightly, his arm pulling you tighter against him as though sensing your discomfort. “You’re tense,” he murmured, his tone carrying a strange gentleness. “It’s okay to relax. I’m here.”

His words sent shivers down your body and tendrils of anxiety in your mind, and you squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to calm down. But how could you relax when your instincts screamed that something was wrong? That something about him, about this situation, was profoundly off?

You tried to focus on your breathing, hoping it would drown out the sound of your racing thoughts. But every inhale carried the faint, woodsy scent of him—so different from Satoru’s familiar, comforting smell. It was calming, yet suffocating all at once.

A small voice crept in your mind, you shouldn’t feel calm. 

Suguru hummed softly, a low, melodic sound that sent another wave of unease through you. “You smell nice,” he said, almost absentmindedly. His nose brushed against your hair, and you froze as he inhaled deeply. “Like home.”

The words were meant to be reassuring, you thought. But they felt wrong, invasive, like he was claiming a piece of you that wasn’t his to take.

You wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat. And in that silence, Suguru’s hand shifted, moving from your ribs to rest lightly against your stomach, the weight of it grounding and possessive.

“You’re safe with me,” he whispered, his voice softer now, almost tender. Almost loving. “I’ll keep you safe. Just sleep, okay?”

Your throat tightened, and your breathing came faster as you tried to steady yourself. Safe. He kept using that word, as though repeating it would make it true. As if he were tricking your mind into thinking it was true. 

But how could you feel safe when every instinct in your body screamed at you to run?

Suguru’s grip didn’t waver, and the steady rhythm of his breathing filled the silence, lulling you into a state of uneasy stillness. You didn’t know how long you lay there, rigid and wide-eyed, before exhaustion began to weigh on you.

Your body betrayed you before your mind could catch up. Slowly, reluctantly, your eyes fluttered shut, and your breathing evened out.

You stirred awake to a sensation so surreal, so tender, that in your dreamlike haze, you convinced yourself it was Satoru.

The soft brush of hair between your thighs, a large, calloused hand rested on the fat of your thighs, keeping your legs open, as your eyes were slowly opening from sleep. 

You felt his tongue drift up you sopping slit, moving to circle around your bundle of nerves, a whine escaping your lips as you shifted a little only for a warm hand to press against your abdomen to keep you from moving as he continued to dive deep into your cunt, his tongue switching from spelling a name on your sensitive clit to fucking your tight dripping heat. You couldn’t help but muffle your moans by biting the sheets. 

“Toru…” You whimpered out in pathetic small breaths. “Feels…s’good” it wasn’t like Satoru to be this in-depth with eating you out. It felt like he was mapping out your entire insides as he slowly inserted a finger into your dripping mess. 

You felt a nip on your inner thigh, causing a whine and for you to finally open your eyes. 

“Wrong boyfriend,” Suguru murmured, his voice a low, velvety hum that sent a shiver rippling down your spine. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement as he hovered just above your pussy that clenched around his fat finger that curled in just the right spot, your gummy walls clenching, no, greedily sucking in. His lips curled into a faint, knowing smirk. 

He tilted his head, his inky hair brushing against your trembling thighs as he leaned back down, his movements deliberate, controlled, as though savoring every moment of your reaction. His breath ghosted over your poor pussy, slowly licking up the mess you were leaking as he pushed his finger knuckle deep inside you, before slowly, teasingly adding another one of his thick fingers inside. Compared to Satoru’s thin long fingers, his was different, it was almost mind-numbing as your poor cunny tightened at the sudden intrusion of another finger.  

“Suguru” You panted out. “I-” and a gasp left your lips as you felt him curl both his fingers. Hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars, no colors, all sorts of stars and colors, as he pried you open. Your mouth left agape as you tried to think of anything besides the pleasure and the sickening wet sounds that were filling the bedroom. 

You shouldn’t be enjoying this. You mind sang to you. But god, did it feel so good. 

“Mmmm, such a sweet pussy” he said softly before lightly sucking on your nub, earning sweet moans and whispers from your lips “Want me to stop, pretty?”  he said softly as he released your poor abused little clit with a loud pop. Offering a small kitten lick as you were trying to form a coherent sentence. 

“Come on, baby girl, use your words f’me.” His fingers slipping out of your slickened folds that caused you to look down at him with half-lidded eyes and a pout. You were so fucked.  

“You need me don’t you? Need me to help you?” He said softly as he pulled away, his big warm hand cupping your heat as you bucked your hips, his thumb lightly grazing your clit, toying with it softly. His chin glistened with your juices as he moved close to your face. 

It didn’t help that he was so devastatingly attractive—so effortlessly pretty, yet undeniably handsome. Every sharp line of his jaw, every curve of his lips, and the way his dark eyes seemed to pierce straight through you made it impossible to look away, even when you wanted to. Even when you knew you should.

“Give me a kiss, just one little kiss, and then I’ll let you cum. Okay, pretty?” Suguru hummed softly, his gaze lingering on your plump, red lips, his voice almost syrupy in its coaxing. His dark eyes sparkled with amusement as he took in the teary-eyed expression you offered him. “Can you do that for me?”

You wanted to fight him. Wanted to kick him off, shove him away, bite that insufferable smirk right off his face.

But he made you feel so good.

You were warm, fuzzy, and completely disconnected from yourself. Every logical thought dissolved into the haze of pleasure he’d wrapped you in. Your body betrayed you, nodding mindlessly like some desperate, needy thing you hardly recognized.

“One kiss?” you murmured meekly, your voice trembling.

Suguru’s grin widened, predatory and oh-so smug. “Just one,” he purred, watching as your eyes flickered away from him.

That’s when you saw it.

The camera.

Nestled discreetly in the corner of the room, its cold, unblinking lens stared back at you. Your stomach dropped, the haze clearing just enough for panic to creep in.

Suguru followed your gaze, and when he saw what had caught your attention, he chuckled—a low, dark sound that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Oh,” he said smoothly, as though you’d stumbled upon a delightful surprise. “You found the camera.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, his voice a whisper now. “Say hi to Toru.”

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss fierce and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs. It wasn’t gentle—it was possessive, demanding, a declaration that left no room for resistance. His hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his tongue brushed against yours, coaxing a response you couldn’t deny.

Every fleeting thought of resistance melted under the heat of his touch, leaving you utterly at his mercy, the world narrowing to the overwhelming intensity of him.

That fuzzy, dreamlike feeling reeled in your mind, spinning you further into a haze. The high you were on didn’t feel natural—it was too consuming, too overwhelming. Even after you came for the nth time, your body still burned with need, craving more despite the exhaustion creeping into your limbs.

You glanced at Suguru through the haze, his expression soft, almost tender, as he leaned down to scoop you into his arms. His strength was effortless, and the gentle smile that tugged at his lips felt entirely out of place with the aching mess he’d left you in.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” he hummed softly, cradling you as though you weighed nothing.

Your body refused to cooperate, too spent and trembling to do anything but lay limply in his embrace. Resigning yourself to your inability to fight, you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath your cheek. It was almost comforting if not for the gnawing unease beneath the surface of your mind.

As he carried you to the bathroom, his voice broke the silence, low and soothing. “Satoru’s coming home today,” he said, his tone so calm, so casual, that it sent a chill down your spine. “He’s going to be so proud of the progress we made, yeah?”

The words hung in the air, their weight suffocating.

The day stretched on in a blur, and though Suguru remained by your side, tending to you with a gentleness that felt far too intimate, you couldn’t shake the words he’d spoken.

Satoru’s coming home today. He’s going to be so proud of the progress we made.

Each passing moment only tightened the knot in your stomach, the uneasy anticipation building to a crescendo by the time the front door opened with Satoru’s familiar sing-song call.

“My sweet sugar bears, I’m home!”

His voice echoed through the apartment, bright and teasing as always, but it carried a weight that hadn’t been there before. You stiffened, clutching the edges of the blanket Suguru had wrapped around you as you sat on the couch, your heart pounding in your chest.

Suguru, seated beside you with a calm, almost serene expression, stood and moved to greet him. “Welcome back,” he said, his tone warm and inviting.

Satoru appeared moments later, his bright cerulean eyes sweeping over the room before landing on you. His grin widened, mischievous and utterly unapologetic.

“There’s my girl,” he said, striding over and crouching in front of you. His hand reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “Missed you.”

You swallowed hard, unsure of what to say as his gaze lingered on you, almost too intently.

Then he turned his attention to Suguru, who was now leaning casually against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched the interaction unfold.

“And you,” Satoru said, his grin taking on a sharper edge. “You really outdid yourself this time, Sugu.”

Suguru inclined his head slightly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m glad you think so. She was… responsive.”

Your stomach twisted at the way they spoke, as if you weren’t even there—or worse, as if you were some sort of project they’d been collaborating on.

Satoru’s attention flicked back to you, and his grin softened into something almost affectionate. “I loved the video,” he said, his voice low as he leaned closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “You looked so perfect for him, baby. It made me jealous.”

Your blood ran cold.

“The—video?” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling as your mind raced to catch up.

Satoru tilted his head, his grin widening again as he straightened. “Oh, come on, don’t play coy now,” he teased, reaching out to ruffle your hair like you were some pet he was fond of. “You knew about the camera, didn’t you? Suguru said you even looked right at it.”

Suguru’s chuckle was low, almost inaudible, but it caused your chest to tighten. Throat to clench up, you suddenly wanted to cry. 

“We’ll have to make more next time,” Satoru continued, his tone light, almost playful, like he was discussing something as mundane as dinner plans. His grin stretched wide, carefree, but his words carried a weight that left your chest tight. “But don’t worry—I’ll be in the next one. No way I’m missing out again.”

The floor beneath you might as well have disappeared. The weight of their words pressed down on you, heavy and suffocating, and your heart hammered as panic welled in your chest.

“No,” you said, your voice trembling. “No, this isn’t… This isn’t right. You can’t just—”

Suguru stepped forward, his movements unhurried, deliberate. His dark eyes locked onto yours, unreadable yet brimming with a quiet intensity that made your skin prickle. He stopped just behind Satoru, his presence looming, steady.

“We’re a team, after all,” he said softly, his voice smooth and calm, like he was explaining something obvious. “It’s only fair we share.”

“No,” you said again, louder this time. The word came out sharp, cutting through the air like a blade, though your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists. “This isn’t fair. This isn’t normal, Satoru, Suguru—this isn’t love.”

For a moment, the room seemed to freeze, the weight of your words hanging in the tense silence.

Suguru’s lips curled into a faint smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that what you think?” he asked, his tone soft, almost disappointed. He tilted his head slightly, his dark hair spilling over his shoulder as he regarded you with something akin to pity. “You think this isn’t love?”

“Yes,” you said, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your confidence. “This isn’t right. You’re asking too much—this isn’t something I can give.”

Suguru took another step closer, his gaze unwavering. “And what do you think love is, then?” he asked, his voice low, coaxing. “Is it not trust? Devotion? Sacrifice?” He leaned in slightly, his presence suffocating as his words wrapped around you like a vice. “After everything Satoru and I have done for you, everything we’ve given you as of late—are you really saying we don’t deserve your love in return?”

Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words sinking into your chest like stones. You had to swallow back your tears. “That’s not what I—”

“But it is,” Suguru interrupted, his voice never rising, never breaking its calm, steady cadence. “You’re saying no to us. To him. To me. After everything we’ve done to keep you safe, to give you the life you have now.”

You’d be nothing without them. You almost owe your life to Satoru alone. 

His words twisted in your mind, sharp and cutting, making you question the thoughts you’d clung to just moments before. He stepped even closer, his dark eyes softening, his tone shifting to something almost tender. “Do you really think it’s fair to push us away when all we want is to love you? To care for you? To protect you?”

Your lips parted, but the words died in your throat.

Satoru crouched slightly to meet your gaze, his cerulean eyes wide and impossibly soft. “Don’t you love me?” he asked, his voice heartbreakingly gentle. “Because if you do, baby, then you can love us.”

Suguru nodded, his smile warming into something deceptively kind. “We’re not asking for much,” he murmured. “Just for you to trust us. To let us take care of you. Isn’t that what love is about?”

The room spun, their words swirling in your mind, drowning out the panic that had gripped you moments before. Their voices, so soothing, so insistent, chipped away at your resolve, making you question everything you thought you knew.

“Shh, you’re cryin’,” Satoru said softly, brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch gentle as he wiped your hot frustrated tears. “Don’t overthink it, baby. Just let us love you. That’s all we want.”

Suguru’s hand came to rest lightly on your shoulder, his grip firm but not forceful, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You don’t want to disappoint us, do you? Satoru has given you everything. Don’t you think you owe us this much?”

The words struck deep, guilt twisting in your chest as you struggled to breathe.

They loved you. This is love, right?

[ivyues]

One-Time Special Edition - Bang Chan

Bang Chan’s S/O not being cuddly changed one morning.

The morning sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft beams across the bedroom. Chris stirred awake, his senses slowly coming to life. Something soft and warm was pressed against him – a weight on his chest, an arm draped over his waist.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he glanced down to see you curled up against him, your face buried in the crook of his neck. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. You were usually the one to squirm away when he tried to trap you in a bear hug, claiming it was "too much heat." But here you were, clinging to him like you’d never let go.

Careful not to disturb you too much, Chris brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch feather-light.

You stirred slightly, groaning softly as you nuzzled deeper into his chest before blinking yourself awake. Your mind slowly registered the situation - how tightly wrapped around him you were – and your eyes flicked up to meet his amused gaze.

“Morning, cuddlebug,” he said, his voice still warm and raspy from sleep.

You blinked, then groaned, burying your face into his chest for a moment. “You’re not going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Probably not,” he admitted with a teasing grin. “I mean, you’re always saying you’re not the cuddly type, but look at you now. I think this is my favorite version of you.”

You huffed, finally pulling back just enough to prop yourself up on one elbow. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Chris. This is a one-time special edition. Sleepy cuddles are not becoming a regular feature.”

His grin widened, his dimples making an appearance as he looked up at you. “One-time special edition? Nah, I don’t believe that. You looked way too comfy.”

You narrowed your eyes, leaning closer to poke his chest. “You start getting cocky about this, and I’ll sleep on the couch next time.”

He chuckled, grabbing your hand to intertwine your fingers with his. “You won’t. You love me too much to do that.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight back a smile. “Keep this up and we’ll see.”

Chris leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Fine, fine. I’ll enjoy my ‘one-time special edition’ while I can. But just so you know, you’re always welcome to cling to me in your sleep. I don’t mind.”

You sighed dramatically but settled back into his arms, your voice softer now. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Too late,” he whispered, wrapping you closer as his smile turned tender.

masterlist

[davinawritings]

You can write werewolf × reader!Fox fem (enemies are lovers), where we constantly tease him)) (fuck)

Pairing: Male Werewolf x Fem Fox Hybrid Reader

Warnings: Sex, unprotected sex, public sex, breeding, creampie, knotting

I hope you enjoy ❤️💕🖤🖤💕❤️

Realistically, your feud with your massive werewolf neighbor was not something you should spend so much time and energy on. In all fairness, he started your little feud when he trampled over your flower garden on his way back from one of his runs. 

You confronted him once you saw it, and he told you to stop being so sensitive and grow more flowers. From that point on, he became enemy number one. If he wanted to be an asshole, you would be petty and make him miserable. It started small with things like sending him anonymous packages that shot out hot pink glitter when opened and sprinkling his entire front yard with orbeez the night before it rained. He always matched your energy, giving just as good as he got. 

Months later, you needed more ideas. However, a new thought pops into your mind as you see him arrive home from a run. You have lived next to him long enough to know his rut should be starting tomorrow, and he is always particularly wound up the day before. 

What better way to torture your werewolf neighbor than to tease him right before his rut? You quickly run to your bedroom and change into a very short sundress, deciding to forgo panties. 

You make your way to his house and knock on the door with a sickly, sweet smile. Upon noticing your presence, he answers the door with his usual scowl. His voice is gruff and slightly raspy as he asks, “What do you want?”

His voice sends tingles straight through your core, and your brain falters momentarily as you take in his scent. Your pussy begins to slick with arousal, and you squeeze your thighs together. You recover quickly, watching as his eyes rake over your figure and his hands clench, his claws biting into his skin.

You bat your eyelashes and reply, “Well, I was going to make some cookies and realized I am out of sugar. I was wondering if you had any I could use.” He looks at you skeptically before he licks his front teeth and says, “No, I don’t have any sugar.” 

You give him a pout, smiling internally as you watch his eyes flicker to your lips. “Ok. I figured, but it was worth a shot”, you say as you begin to make your way back down the steps of his front porch. 

Right as you get to the last step, you give a small jump to get down to the ground. The small rush of air causes the short skirt of your sundress to rise. You use your tail to flick the skirt even higher, clearly showing your lack of panties and spreading your arousal through the air.

You make it one more step before his strong arms pull you back and into his large chest. He dips his head low, his snout brushing your ear as he says, “You shouldn’t have done that, little fox. I have been fighting for control since I opened the door to you in this fucking tiny sundress. I’m starting my rut, and you decide to come over here and put your ass on full fucking display. This slutty little body is just begging to be bred and knotted”. 

You know you should stay strong and pull from his arms. This is supposed to be you teasing him, not giving in to him, but as you feel his massive cock rub into your lower back, you can’t help but moan and rub back against him. He growls before pushing you onto your hands and knees right in the front yard. 

“Wait, we need to go inside. People could see us”, you say, moving to get back up. He places one of his hands on the back of your neck and shoves your chest against the ground; your ass is high in the air as he flips the bottom of your dress up and over the small of your back. 

“I don’t think so, little fox. You weren’t so concerned about others seeing this perfect little ass. I’m going to fuck you and breed you right here where everyone can see you being my little slut”, he says. Before you have a chance to respond, he thrusts inside of you, and you scream out at the stretch. 

He sets a brutal pace as he fucks you with the sole purpose of knotting and breeding your tight cunt. You can’t help but meet him thrust for thrust, as he rearranges your insides. He manages to hit every fucking nerve ending in your dripping pussy, pleasure crashing over you in tidal waves. 

You should be embarrassed by the spectacle he is making of you. A small glance up shows that your neighbors are indeed watching him breed you; your moans and screams clearly caught their attention.

He leans down and gives a low chuckle as he feels you cream all over his cock again. He gives your ear a little nip before teasing, “You like this, don’t you? Everyone watching me claim and breed you. I can feel your tight cunt cumming all over my cock, and you haven’t even gotten my knot yet, little fox,”. 

You can’t even respond, too overwhelmed with pleasure as he gives your ass a harsh smack, grabbing your tail and pulling on it to drag your pussy back to him with each thrust. 

His thrusts speed up and become harsher as he works to fuck his knot inside you. Your nails dig into the dirt as he gives one last push, his knot popping in and splitting your pussy wide open. Your scream as you cum harder than ever before, your legs shaking and tears pouring down your face as your try and fuck yourself back on him as much as possible. 

He moans loudly as his cock finally starts filling you up with his seed, his knot keeping everything locked in tight. He holds your trembling body close to his own as his orgasm finally comes to a stop, your pussy and womb overstuffed and full of him.

He holds your lower half against him tightly, trying not to jostle you on his knot too much as he stands. He begins returning to his house as he says, “Get ready for when my knot goes down, little fox. That was just a taste; I haven’t even truly started my rut yet, and you haven’t seen what I plan on doing to this gorgeous little body now that no one is watching”. Your cunt clenches around his knot, already excited for what’s to come. 

❤️💕🖤🖤💕❤️

[misswynters]

Desperately seeking something more with you

a short drabble

featuring. Silco x brothel worker!reader

requested. by anon

Silco sat in the booth, his presence commanding, as always. One hand lazily cradled a cigarette, the ember glowing faintly as he took a drag, the smoke curling from his lips like a seductive whisper in the quiet. The other hand was resting casually against the edge of the table, his fingers tapping lightly on the worn wood. His mismatched eyes glinted in the low light, constantly surveying his surroundings but it always came back to you.

You were seated next to him, close enough that the heat of his body seemed to radiate toward you, but not so close that you couldn’t feel the space between you, the challenge hanging in the air. The dress you wore was a small thing, little more than fabric that barely covered you. But it wasn’t just the revealing nature of the dress that made you feel the tension. Maybe it was the way you could feel his eyes on you, watching every movement with that unsettlingly calm intensity.

Taking a sip of your drink, you leaned back slightly, letting the alcohol burn its way down your throat. You knew his gaze never left you. He liked watching you. More than he probably wanted to admit. And you enjoyed it just as much, teasing him with every little movement. Slowly, you traced your fingers up his arm, the touch light, lingering, until your fingertips brushed his skin just above the cuff of his sleeve. The movement was deliberate, almost like a challenge, and you could feel the faintest tension building in him, though he didn’t move. He didn’t need to.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” you remarked, your voice soft but playful. You set your glass down, your fingers lingering just a moment longer on the edge of the table. “Not the usual Silco I’m used to.”

He took another slow drag from his cigarette, exhaling a plume of smoke that curled toward your face. You leaned into it, savoring the sensation of the smoke swirling around you. It was strange and ntoxicating like everything about him.

“I’d prefer to listen,” Silco replied, his voice low, almost a growl. It was a voice meant for the shadows, a voice that demanded attention without needing to raise itself.

“To what?” you asked, curiosity making your voice teasing. You leaned in just a little, letting your breath tickle his ear as you did.

His lips curled upward, the smallest of smirks forming. “To see how far you’ll go,” he said, his words calculated, laced with an undertone that was almost… dangerous. But you were never one to shy away from danger.

You smirked back, your fingers tracing along the edge of the table until you reached his cigarette. Without breaking eye contact, you reached for it, stealing it from his fingers with a practiced grace. Bringing it to your lips, you took a slow drag, the smoke filling your lungs, adding a heady weight to the already thick air between you. The sharp taste of it filled your senses, heightened the unspoken sensations. You could see the slight shift in his expression as he watched you, the faint glimmer of approval mixed with something darker.

You exhaled, a cloud of smoke rising between you as you leaned in, close enough that your lips almost brushed against his ear. “I can go as far as you like me too,” you whispered, the words barely a breath.

There was a flicker in his mismatched eyes, a challenge of his own. Without another word, he shifted, his hand finding your waist with the precision of someone used to taking control. But there was no force in the movement, just the weight of his hand as he gently guided you to straddle his lap. You felt the shift in the air, the change in his posture as he settled beneath you, his body tensing beneath yours. His hands were firm on your hips, guiding you in a way that made your pulse quicken.

You could feel him. All of him. His body pressed against yours, hard and unmistakable, one that simmered beneath the surface. It made your heart race and your skin flush.

His hand slid slowly from your waist to your back, pulling you closer as you shifted on his lap, feeling the bulge beneath you. He didn’t try to hide it, didn’t seem to care. Instead, he simply watched you with those dark eyes of his, amusement flashing across his face as you continued to tease.

And then you did something unexpected. Without warning, you lifted yourself off him slightly, still straddling him but giving just enough space to make the tension thicker, heavier. Your legs stayed on either side of his hips, your hands sliding up his neck to tangle in his hair. He inhaled sharply, the breath caught in his throat.

“Bold,” he said, his voice rougher now, laced with something darker. “I like that.”

And you smirked, the taste of smoke still lingering on your tongue. “Don’t act surprised now,” you replied, leaning down just enough that your lips brushed against his jaw, teasing the skin there.

He growled low in his throat, the sound sending a shiver through you. His hands gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of your dress, but you could feel the way his entire body reacted to the proximity. His breath came a little faster, his pulse quickening. But he didn’t let go of the control he had towards himself.

“You’re a lot of things, but you’re never predictable,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin, sending a ripple of electricity through you.

“I sure am full of surprises,” you said, your lips hovering just a fraction away from his, teasing him with the promise of something more. You could feel his breath on your skin, the warmth of his body pressing against you, but neither of you made a move just yet. The space between you was filled with desire, each moment stretched thin, vibrating with anticipation. And then you leaned in, brushing your lips lightly against his, a kiss that was sweet but far too brief.

His hands slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, and the kiss deepened. His lips were insistent, hungry even, as he tugged you against him. His touch was bruising, but it was exactly what you wanted, exactly what you have been craving for.

note. any mistakes let me know and i’ll fix it! thanks 🙏

banner. @anitalenia