#I thought I was escaping but there is no escape

[sttoru]

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. smut, pwp. spit. hair pulling. p in v. two cawks -> double penetration. reader gets called ‘brat, little girl’

“what did you just say, brat?”

sukuna stills all movement for a good second. his hips are flush against yours, buried balls deep inside both your tight holes. he thought it might have been his vulgar imagination, but when he looks down at your embarrassed expression, he can confirm you did in fact just ask him that question.

your nails dig into his biceps, angry red streaks forming on his skin due to your constant scratching. you look the other way, staring at the shoji in the distance, before glancing back into those red eyes.

“i— uhm,” you swallow thickly before repeating your perverted request, “could you please spit in my mouth, my lord?”

sukuna’s jaw clenches with an effort to hold himself back. he didn’t know his little concubine had it in her to request such a bold thing. though that’s exactly what makes you so interesting, and what causes him keep you around.

“…fuckin’ hell,” sukuna breathes out with a low growl. he drinks in the lewd vision of you splayed out beneath him. your hair is matted to your forehead, chest heaving and eyes glazed with lust—it’s a captivating sight. or dangerous more so.

if you’re asking for such a thing, it must mean he’s doing a good job in fucking you stupid. stupid enough to make you act like a common whore. it certainly boosts the king of curses’ ego.

thus, it isn’t long before a wicked smirk tugs at sukuna’s lips. his fingers instantly tangle into your hair before yanking your head back, crimson eyes glowing dangerously as they focus on your glistening lips.

“you request such a filthy thing, yet ya don’t even take the required actions to receive what y’ desire,” sukuna clicks his tongue in impatience before using one of his other hands to cup your cheek. he starts off with a gentle caress to your bottom lip with his thumb before using the single digit to roughly force your lips apart, “open up.”

you do as told and open your mouth, staring up at the pink-haired man through your wet lashes. he takes in your pathetic yet erotic self, feeling his cocks twitch as he enjoys the display of such vulnerability in his presence.

sukuna can’t help but roughly connect your lips, kissing you passionately, fangs peeking out as he grins against your mouth. only after a few seconds does he realise that he has a job to do.

he slowly pulls away and your lips part with an almost inaudible pop. he gathers the saliva that is pooling on his tongue before gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, ensuring your mouth stays open.

sukuna tilts his head, your breaths mingling and your noses nearly touching as he parts his own lips. a thick rope of spit slowly drops onto your tongue, some of it escaping and staining your chin down to your bare tits.

the king of curses feels a surge of pride run through his body as he roughly spits the remaining clear liquid from the cavern of his mouth, into your awaiting one. “swallow,” he commands in a low voice, tightening his grip on your jaw.

“fuuuck, there ya go,” sukuna watches, transfixed, as you do as told. the warm globs of spit trickle down your throat and you can’t help but moan at the feeling. that was quite arousing—to both of you.

but for some reason sukuna got even more worked up about it then you did in the first place. he grunts something incoherent before continuing the ruthless pace, hips ramming into you as he keeps all four eyes on your face.

“nasty lil’ girl. didn’t know you had it in ya,” sukuna lets out a mocking chuckle as he gathers your wrists above your head with one of his large hands. he lowers his head and bares his fangs before sinking them into your bottom lip, “i must say.. i do enjoy it—this side of y’rs.”

you’re moaning wantonly as you’re being pounded into the mattress, the lingering sensation of his spit in the back of your throat only adds to the deprived pleasure.

sukuna grins as he roughly grabs your jaw again, eyes glinting with sinful promises.

“don’t tell me y’ think i’m satisfied doing it just once? open that pretty little mouth and maybe i’ll give ya somethin’ else to swallow after.”

[rafesangelita]

♡ it’s that time of year again, and kook!sweetheart!reader is here and ready to kiss for charity in her annual kissing booth! however, rafe is first in line.. and a peck on the cheek is not the only thing he’s interested in..

warnings: s1!rafe, flirty banter, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, overstimulation, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), hair pulling, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘KISSING BOOTH’ 🤍 i was so obsessed with this idea, i had came up with it last year but decided i should wait for valentine’s day to write it, so to say it’s been a long time coming is an understatement! i’m so excited for this valentine’s day celebration, i hope you all will love it <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.5k

“wow, it looks like cupid threw up in here.” you smiled at the familiar voice, your best friend rolling her eyes when she saw the way your cheeks heated at rafe’s teasing words. while she thought rafe was annoying and insufferable, you absolutely adored him, always laughing at his lame jokes and letting him hold you close at parties as if to let everyone know that you were off limits. “you don’t like the way i decorated the booth?” you pouted up at him as he leaned over the front counter, a smug grin gracing his features. “yeah, it’s cute..” he trailed off, “but are you really gonna kiss some random assholes for a fuckin’ dollar?”

you sighed, pointing towards the tip jar. “it’s for charity, rafe.. and i’m not really ‘kissing’ anyone, i’m barely grazing their cheek!” rafe scoffed before studying you for a moment. you were such a pretty thing, the idea of some losers waiting in line to get something as little as a peck from you made his blood boil. “how much money do you have to make today?” he was fishing in his pocket for his wallet before you even answered. “i would like to make at least three hundred dollars.” you watched him curiously as he managed to get some crisp bills out of the expensive leather.

“i’ll do you one better, and give you five hundred dollars to ditch this joint right now.” you blinked, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “are you serious?” he dropped the money in the jar that you decorated with pink heart-shaped stickers and red rhinestones. “yeah, but i don’t just want a kiss..” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “i’d rather see those pretty, sparkly lips wrapped around my cock instead, yeah?” you felt butterflies flutter in your tummy, your needy gaze meeting his own. “come on, baby.” he took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing into your skin.

swallowing thickly, you glanced over at your bestie. “i can’t leave her to do this all by herself..” just as you were going to apologize and tell him maybe another time, she took the money out of the jar and placed it into an envelope. “i’m gonna go turn this money in to the charity organizers and close up shop, ‘looks like the boys of kildare will have to be kissed by someone else today.” you giggled, motioning for rafe to come inside once your friend left. he wasted no time, locking the wooden door shut as you closed the window, moving the silky red curtain over the glass.

rafe’s hands were palming the soft flesh of your ass in an instant, his large hands shamelessly flipping up your skirt to get a better grip on your skin. despite the small amount of pain he drew from squeezing you so hard, you still moaned blissfully when he took you in a sloppy kiss, his tongue wetting your bottom lip in the process. “you’re so sweet, y’know that? letting me have my way with you like this.” without warning, rafe took ahold of your thighs before hiking you up onto the counter. “i’ve been wanting to know how you taste for so long..” he groaned, both of you moaning as he rubbed you through your panties.

moving your hands to run down his chest, you and rafe shared a look before he slowly peeled back the pink lace. “all i gotta do is chat you up, and you’re already soaked like this?” he laughed incredulously, “fuck, you’re just dying for it.” you couldn’t help but whimper when he gathered the pool of slick between your folds, circling your clit slow and hard before popping his digits into his mouth. “rafe!” you’re shocked but so turned on at the same time, the look of pure disbelief on your face making him smile in amusement. “as much as i’d love to eat this sweet pussy, i need to feel you wrapped around me even more.”

fingertips hooking in the waistband of your panties, rafe slid the material down your legs before placing them in his pocket. “i’m keeping these for later, ‘that alright?” you nodded frantically, spreading your thighs open for him before he stroked your glossy slit. “m’gonna stretch you out just right..” you gasped, your eyebrows knitting together as he slowly inserted his middle finger. “shit, you’re so tight.” he smiled down at you, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “if you think this is a stretch, just wait til’ i have my cock inside of you.”

rafe was knuckle deep at this point, your pretty moans giving him all the encouragement he needed to insert another finger. “oh, god!” your heel clad feet began shaking when his palm met your swollen clit, the pressure making you keen. rafe fisted your ponytail, pulling your head down so you could watch him curl his digits in order to hit that soft, gummy spot inside of you. your top was out of place, your tits threatening to spill out of your bra as rafe used his free hand to keep your chin pointed down. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more you tried to pull away from him, the intensity of your climax already coiling tight in your tummy.

rafe let go of your hair and pinned you down by your hip as he pushed you over the edge, the band in your stomach finally snapping as you came undone. you cried out, your nails raking down his forearm as he hissed at the stinging sensation. “you’re doing so fucking good, holy shit!” he cursed, the sound of your slick juices making your cheeks heat. you shook and writhed beneath him, your heart beating in your ears as you felt the pure unadulterated pleasure wrack through your system. surely, it couldn’t get better than this.. right?

wrong.

rafe wasn’t lying when he said the stretch from his fingers was nothing compared to the stretch of his cock, the tip of his length now kissing your poor cervix with each thrust. “t-too much! rafe, slow down!” he ignored your pleas, instead taking your arms and pinning them to your back so you couldn’t push against his abs anymore. you swore if it wasn’t for him holding your leg up, you would’ve fallen to the ground already. “ah, nah you got it, pretty girl.” he leaned down, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “this is all you, sweetheart, you’re sucking me in like a fucking vice.” he panted.

rafe was close, but he meant what he said earlier— he needed to see you on your knees for him, he needed to see those swollen lips wrapped around his cock just like how he’s imagined for so long. just when rafe felt like he was going to fill up your cunt, he pulled out, quickly pushing you to the floor so he could use your throat instead. you’ve given him complete control, and the power to throw you around as he got you on your knees, kicking your thighs apart so he could see the mess you made between your legs. rafe nearly came when he saw you open your mouth so willingly for him, almost like it was your instinct to take him whole.

taking the hem of his shirt between his teeth, rafe kept the cotton material out of the way as he slid between your lips with ease. you were so warm and so wet, and just so, so, so pretty with your mouth full, he took a breath before tugging at the roots of your hair. “make me fuckin’ cum,” your eyes widened slightly when he whimpered, the sound making you take him even further until your nose was nudging at his base, “oh, what the fuck, what the fuck—” he was done for as soon as you swallowed around him, your eyes watering with tears as you felt the warm ropes of his seed paint your throat.

rafe kept your head in place, his jaw slack as he emptied himself inside of you. it wasn’t until you tapped on his leg that he pulled you off, a strangled gasp leaving your lips as you finally sucked in a breath. he felt dazed, just the same way you did. “damn, sweetheart, should i bribe you more often?” you laughed, accepting the hand he held out for you. standing up on shaky legs, rafe got his shorts on, helping you readjust your clothing shortly after. “you don’t have to bribe me..” despite just doing the most filthiest things you’ve ever done, you still couldn’t help but feel shy underneath the intensity of his stare.

rafe kissed you, taking your hand in his before placing another kiss to your knuckles. “come on,” he poked his head out of the booth to make sure no one was around, “let’s get you back to my place, i need to get my head between those thighs like asap.”

[tfwbluu]

U and me both girl. I have NEVER wanted to ride someone's abs so badly. How are u holding up bc I think I'm this 🤏 close to going insane

- ❄️

I cannot help but have more thoughts about his abs now so here it is (◞‸◟)💧

“That’s it, pretty,” Riki murmured, his hands firmly guiding your hips against his abs. His voice was thick with admiration, his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you—your body draped in his oversized shirt, the fabric slipping off your shoulder, barely concealing the heat between you.

“Ah… Riki…” you whimpered, your hands splayed against his chest, your hips moving instinctively, grinding against the firm muscles of his abdomen.

He smirked, his voice dipping into a husky whisper. “Yeah? Feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Look at you… so beautiful like this, getting yourself off on me.”

A desperate moan escaped your lips, your breath hitching as pleasure coiled in your stomach. “Y-yes… please… ‘m so close…” you gasped, the friction sending shivers down your spine.

“Then let go for me,” he urged, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, swallowing your cries as you trembled in his lap.

He held you close, feeling every shudder, every pulse of pleasure that coursed through you. Your breath was uneven, your forehead resting against his as warmth lingered between your bodies. Gently, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch delicate, reverent.

“You can take one more, hmm?” he whispered, his voice laced with both affection and hunger.

His hands roamed down your body, his fingers hooking beneath the hem of his shirt, slowly lifting it to reveal your soft skin beneath. Your breath hitched as you felt the press of his tip against your entrance, the heat of his skin sending sparks across your body.

“Mhm… I can for you…” you murmured, just as he pushed inside, stretching you inch by inch. A gasp slipped from your lips as he groaned, his grip on your thighs tightening.

In one fluid motion, he flipped you onto your back, lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders. His touch was reverent yet possessive, his gaze locked onto yours as he rocked into you slowly, savoring the way your body responded to him.

“I love you so much, angel,” he whispered against your lips, pressing soft kisses along your jaw.

“Be a good girl for me… yeah?”

taglist @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura @ziiao @lilmarsh-t @bxcndd @laylasbunbunny @d-dilemma

[pureomi]

˚୨୧⋆｡🍓˚ she see money all around me, i look like i'm the man

includes: itoshi sae x fem! reader. 0.8k wc. fluff.

a/n: provider sae, we all cheered !! inspired by that one tiktok trend lol

not much grabs itoshi sae's attention, so you have to get creative.

"sae, i can't help pay rent this month." even though he doesn't glance away from the computer screen, the twitch on his face is obvious. the furrowed brows, his fingers coming to a halt on the keyboard, the imaginary question mark brewing over his head—all of it subtle but still priceless.

to be fair, he doesn't even recall being this confused when his parents agreed to send him abroad at the ripe age of thirteen—that too, all by himself!

for someone as strict as itoshi sae, he should receive an award for how quickly he paused his work to simply process whatever the fuck just came out of your mouth. "you can't, what?" he finally says, still keeping his gaze focused on the screen.

this is harder than you thought. not the pranking part; the holding in your laughter part. you somehow manage to keep it in for the sake of the bit.

"yeah, i just don't have the money to help you pay our rent this month," you continue, further emphasizing your dilemma (knowing damn well it doesn’t exist) awaiting his reaction.

but of course, your prank backfires spectacularly. the dramatic reaction you were hoping for? nowhere to be found. instead, he just crosses his arms and finally turns his chair to stare at you like you're the ridiculous one in this scenario. sae leans back in his chair, letting linger another one of those infuriatingly calm looks that make you want to simultaneously throw something at him and admire how annoyingly composed he is. "i know?" he claimed, neutrally, with a quirk of his brow like...duhh?

he continued, not even trying to be offensive, just merely stating the facts he has gathered living with you over the years. "when have you ever paid rent?"

…why would you?

he’s suddenly wondering if, overnight, you forgot you’re itoshi sae’s girl. hell, he doesn’t even let you pay for something as little as webtoon coins—hence why he made sure his card info was saved on your phone. rent was too far of a stretch to claim, even as a joke, and you know this too.

with how adamant sae is, the world could collapse before he let you contribute a single penny.

but damn, did that make it make it hard for you to continue this act.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, to salvage the prank, but your brain is running on a blank slate. "i mean," you clear your throat, trying to recover. "it’s about the…principle? you know, of financial responsibility and, um—" sae tilts his head, looking wholly unimpressed. "do you even know how much rent is?" your mouth opens. closes. he waits. you scramble. "well, yeah, of course, i—" "how much?" he asks, deadpan. your lips part, but the number? nowhere to be found. you had not, at any point in your life, thought to ask. sae quirks a brow, clearly entertained by your pathetic attempt to keep going. he rests his chin in his palm, watching you struggle with the kind of calm that makes it painfully obvious he’s enjoying this. "you were saying?" he prompts, his voice laced with amusement. you huff, cheeks growing warm. "forget it. you ruined it." but before you can even sulk properly, sae reaches forward and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you in with zero effort. a yelp escapes you as he shifts you into his lap, securing you there with both arms now locked around you. your heart does this stupid little thing where it stumbles over itself because you can feel the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and—oh god—the way his lips are ridiculously close to your ear. "did i? or did you just get caught?" he murmurs, voice low and entirely too smug. "you—!" your hands instinctively grab onto his shoulders, trying to put some space between you two, but he doesn't let you. if anything, he picks you up to place you fully against his chest. "go on, finish your little act," he challenges, lips curling into a smirk. you glare at him, ignoring the rapid pounding of your heart. "i hate you." "yeah?" his voice is a quiet hum, teasing, daring you to keep going. "i guess that’s what i get for absolutely spoiling the shit out of my girlfriend." you pout, trying to look annoyed, but your resistance fades as you sink into his arms.

instead of staying smug, sae softens his grip just a little, his tone becoming more serious. "i take care of what’s mine, so don’t bother pulling tricks on me before you empty my bank account."

"do you understand?" he continues, his voice low and steady as he presses a gentle kiss to your temple. the softness of the gesture contrasts with the firmness of his words, leaving you to wonder how he always manages to make you this flustered every time. all you can do is just nod, giving in to the fact that your boyfriend is a rich snob who always gets his way—one you’re completely obsessed with, no less. seriously, what are you gonna do with him? 🤍

[landoughnut]

Made With Love

♡ masterlist - request - emoji anons

♡ pairing - max verstappen x fem!reader

♡ summary - while visiting your boyfriend working, why not bring a little surprise sign you made for him?

♡ warnings - blushy and in love max, drivers and fans teasing max, fluffffff

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.08k | IM BACK 🫶🏻 hehe sorry yall this isn't too great but I gotta get back into the groove so pls send in thoughts or requests bc my minds a blank canvas

Race weekends were always chaotic, but the energy in the paddock today was on another level. Fans packed the grandstands, waving flags, banners, and signs - some are more simple, some are memes of the drivers, yet they were all made with the same excitement for the race ahead.

And somewhere in that sea of people, standing right at the front, was you. Normally, you’d be in with Red Bull but you went over to the fans to join them for the time being. Some had given you bracelets and asked for pictures, which you happily agreed to. 

So here you stand, clutching a sign you had spent way too much time making the night before.

It wasn’t your fault, really. You had been up late, watching Max’s past races for “inspiration” (which was really just an excuse to admire him), when an idea popped into mind. With a few markers, a ridiculously pathetic and cheesy pun, glittery heart stickers, and maybe a questionable drawing of you two, you created what could only be described as likely the most embarrassing thing he would ever see before a race.

“DRIVE FAST BUT NOT TOO FAST, I HAVE PLANS FOR YOU LATER ;)”

You could already imagine his reaction - probably an exasperated sigh, followed by that little smirk he always gave you when he pretended to be unimpressed but was actually very much an attempted cover up of how he falls deeper in love with you. 

The drivers started their walk to the grid, and your raced just a little bit when you spotted him looking impossibly handsome. Max looked calm - focused, sharp, already in his zone - but you knew him well enough to see the tiny traces of nerves beneath the surface. 

As they passed by, you lifted the sign above your head and glanced at some of the fans around you who giggled when they read it.

It took him a second, but then he stopped.

He just… stood there, staring at the sign like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or melt into the asphalt. His mouth was parting and closing again, unsure of how to react, but you just gave him your perfect smile and it made his heart flutter. His ears went pink first, then the blush crept up his neck, blooming across his cheeks.

“Oh, for f-” Max muttered under his breath, rubbing his temple, but the amused smile on his face betrayed him.

And that’s when the teasing began.

Lando cackled loud enough for the entire grid to hear. “Oh, this is GOLD!”

Before Max could escape, Lando slung an arm around his shoulder, grinning like he’d just won the championship. “So, what’re these ‘plans’ about, mate? Anything we should be worried about? Should we clear the podium early?”

“Do we need to tell Christian?” Charles chimed in, barely holding back his laughter. “You know, just in case he needs to schedule some extra… recovery time for you.”

A chorus of laughter followed. Max groaned, dragging a hand down his face, but the pink on his cheeks only deepened. “You’re all the worst,” he grumbles.

Meanwhile, the nearby fans had caught on fast.

“Oh my god, he’s BLUSHING,” one girl gasped, tugging her friend’s arm.

“He’s practically making heart eyes, how adorable,” another comments, phone already in hand and recording the scene.

Max, looking positively doomed, glanced at you - a mix of betrayal, affection, and desperate pleading. But you? You just continued to smile sweetly with a tilted head.

“You like it.”

“I hate it.”

“You’re literally blushing.”

“I’m warm.”

“Mhm,” you roll your eyes and chuckle.

The teasing didn’t stop as he pulled out his phone and snapped a quick picture of your masterpiece, grumbling something about “evidence to haunt me later.” But before he walked away, he pointed at you, eyes narrowed.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

Your heart did a little flip and you grinned. “Oh, I know.”

And just like that, he was gone, back into the pre-race frenzy - but not before stealing one last loving glance at you over his shoulder.

Later on, the celebration was loud and chaotic. Max had finished on the podium - not a win, but a damn good race - and when he finally found you in the paddock, you barely had time to react before he crashed into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist.

“Enjoy the show?” he asked, voice still breathless with adrenaline.

“Loved it. Thought you might’ve forgotten about my sign, though.”

“Oh, trust me,” he groaned, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Hard to forget when the im being tagged in posts of it nonstop.”

Your brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

He sighed dramatically before pulling out his phone. Everywhere, Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, was flooded with clips from earlier.

Fan tweets scrolled across the screen:

“THE WAY HE STOPPEDDDD LOOK AT HIM. HE’S A GONER”

“If my future man doesn’t hold up a sign like this for me, I don’t want him”

“This man is so down baddd LOOK AT THE BLUSH”

“MAX VERSTAPPEN ‘I’M WARM’ CHALLENGE (IMPOSSIBLE)”

You bit your lip, trying (and failing) not to laugh. “I mean… they’re not wrong,” you poke his cheek.

Max groaned, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re never making a sign again,” he says, although you both know he doesn’t mean it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, swaying slightly. “Oh, baby, you know that’s a lie.”

Before he could argue, you kissed him, soft at first, teasing. But then he tilted his head, deepening it, fingers pressing into your waist like he didn’t care that people were watching.

Somewhere in the background, some group of fans started shouting.

“Oh my goshh, he’s in love!.”

“Life is so unfair! Where’s my Max?”

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he was grinning like a lovestruck idiot.

“You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, thumb brushing over your cheek.

“And you love it.”

His gaze flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes. “Yeah,” he whispered. “That I do.”

Later, when you made it back to his driver’s room, you caught him slipping the sign into his bag, folding it carefully like it was something worth keeping.

“… You’re keeping that?” you asked, amused.

He shot you a look. “Shut up.”You didn’t push it. But you did smile. He bites his lip, placing it into his pocket, knowing that no matter how many trophies he collects, this - you - might just be his favorite thing he’d ever won.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the black sheep

a/n: wrote this at five in the morning after i woke up from a nightmare ✌️

summary: “don’t,” a sharp breath filled your lungs as you shook your head and your eyes instantly squeezed shut, “don’t do that… don’t act like you care just because my father pays you. I know you’re no better than all of the others out there…” 

warnings: soft!mob!bucky x mob boss daughter!reader, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, forbidden romance, age gap, sexual references, horrible and abusive family, bullying, mental illness (depression, anxiety, stress), references to being institutionalised at a terrible place against one's will, party, dancing, crying

word count: 1511

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist 

The creak of a heavy pair of boots crossing over the threshold found your ears, though didn’t persuade your neck to twist around and see who had appeared in the doorway. 

“Miss?” Bucky’s tone echoed quietly throughout the room as his metal hand continued to clutch the doorhandle he’d just twisted. 

But instead of tearing your eyes away from the night sky that twinkled on the other side of the window, you instead continued to sit on the floor, the fancy dress you’d been forced into wrinkling around your legs, as you faintly began to murmur, “you know, I wanted to be an astronaut when I was little…” your eyes traced one of the constellations gleaming above, “it wasn’t because I had some fascination with space, but it was the one thing I could imagine that would take me as far away from here as possible…” a breath escaped you before your vision finally floated back down to earth and you glanced over your shoulder, “would you mind closing the door? It’s so loud out there…” 

As you reunited your gaze to the world outside and you heard the door shut behind you, the mobster then carefully asked, “are you alright?” 

“Don’t,” a sharp breath filled your lungs as you shook your head and your eyes instantly squeezed shut, “don’t do that… don’t act like you care just because my father pays you. I know you’re no better than all of the others out there…” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he tried to conceal his painful awareness of your situation. 

“I know what the others say behind my back,” you uttered, your mind haunted by their voices, playing the comments on a loop till they turned into boiling tar, “poor Y/n, weak and broken Y/n who is crazy and could never really be a part of this family… but unfortunately for everyone, I am,” you breathed, memories of your adolescence flooded your system, how they had sent you away to a broken institution at the smallest sign of vulnerability, “so I could never just leave. I couldn’t go out and earn my own money, they would cut off any attempt I made of getting a job in this city,” you pointed out their power, “and if I tried to get away, move to somewhere else, then they would have to take care of that as well because they can’t have a liability just out there. They own me, and they’ve made sure that I am nothing without them, and with them, I’d never be able to accomplish a goddamn thing. They wouldn’t hesitate to cut my life short if I ever stepped out of line again, you know that, it happened to my aunt… for all I know, it’ll probably happen as soon as my brother takes over, it is after all what everyone has surely wished for since the day I was born…” 

As those last few venting words escaped your lips, a sinking feeling bloomed in your stomach as you realised those shattering truths hadn’t been contained in your thoughts alone. 

“Oh shit…” tears began to blur your vision as you spun around and jaggedly rose to your feet, “please don’t tell anyone about any of that,” you took a panicked step forward, “I–… I didn’t mean any of it, it’s not–…” your chest rose and fell rapidly as you stared back at the gangster, “what do you want?” you attempted desperately, “do you want money? I could talk to my father and give you another leg up? I’ll give you whatever you want, just please don’t tell anyone, I–…” 

An idea then struck through your terrified blubbering, and without giving it another thought, you dropped down to your knees before him. 

“What are you doing?” he finally spoke, blinking down at you by his feet. 

Wiping your cheek as a steady flow of tears rolled down them, you then reached out for Bucky’s belt and sniffled, “you can have me, if that’s what could buy your silence.” 

But instead, your father’s right-hand man grabbed your hands, “stop,” he pleaded, “just stop.” 

Blinking up into his eyes, your hazy vision then drifted down to his fingers enveloping your wrists before you gloomily concluded, “…right…of course… I get it,” your head bowed even further as you uttered, “why would you think of me any differently… of course, you wouldn’t want me to touch you, you probably think I’m cursed just like the rest of them do…” 

But instead of ripping his touch away from your skin as if it was a scorching flame, Bucky’s frame suddenly lowered to be at your level, kneeling by you before he lifted one of your palms up to cup his stubbly cheek.

“I don’t,” a faint shake found his head, “never have,” you found yourself floating away into the ocean of his eyes as he stared back at you, his slow breath fanning across your wet cheeks at the close proximity, “I won’t tell anyone what you said,” he promised, his deep voice nearly at a whisper, “you have my word.”

But as you were filled with equal amounts of uncertainty, as well as shock, footsteps on the other side of the door found you both and tore you apart, just before the door ripped open and in strolled the boss himself. 

“Barnes!” your father’s glare landed on the mobster first before it shifted to find you, hastily wiping your cheeks, “oh great, you found her,” he uttered impatiently, “darling, come, it’s time for your brother to cut the cake. You need to be there,” he swiftly waved a hand for you to shadow him. 

The storm of the party made you feel as if you could come undone and burst into tears at any moment, pushing and shoving your shaky soul till you felt like just a tiny speck of dust floating around in the air. Keeping your gaze on the floor as you pushed through the bustling crowds, it stayed there as your sibling sank a shiny blade into the ridiculously elaborate cake that was rolled out for everyone to applaud. 

Raw and bleeding while the others drank and laughed, your vision finally found enough courage to flicker up, though only to find those same blue eyes, across the room and locked upon you. 

When the music soon was cranked up high and people swarmed to the middle of the floor in pairs, you briefly spotted one of your brother’s friends, a guy not too far from your own age, march straight towards you with an air of confidence that couldn’t help but relax your tense shoulders as you were slowly filled with hope. 

But as he neared and a greeting fell from your lips, a confused look muddled up his features as he shot you a glance before grabbing the waiting hand of a girl standing in the crowd behind you. 

Amused snickers and cruel comments found your ears even though you knew their tones attempted to be silent.

“What a freak.”

“Could you imagine if it had actually been her he’d wanted to dance with? In her dreams.”

“She should just run back to that insane asylum she somehow escaped from.”

With your back soon pressed up against one of the perimeter walls, a shadow then came to darken the spot on the floor your reddened eyes were glued to. 

“You wanna dance?” you glanced up with a wide pair of eyes to spot Bucky settled in beside you. 

“Why?” your brows knit together, “so that everyone can have another thing to laugh about?” 

Holding out his palm, he then let out a sigh, “just take my hand,” and the next thing you knew, your fingers were tangled in his own. 

Once he’d led you out onto the floor, your eyes darting around to all the bewildered glances that shot your way, a sudden breath then filled your lungs as his wide palm slid over your waist and dragged you in closer to his frame, causing your vision to cease their torture and meet his own steady gaze instead. 

The sway was slow and intimate, though you weren’t sure if the sensation terrified or calmed you, as the intoxicating way he made you feel had previously been something you’d packed far away as just an inconsequential crush back when he’d first started working for your father. Though as he held you in his arms and showed you a rare display of compassion, how could your heart not begin to thump once more?

With your gaze hazily cast over his shoulder as you danced so near that your cheeks almost touched, the warmth of his hand then slid down to your lower back before he whispered in your ear, “I know it won’t fix anything, but if it was up to me, you’d be the one inheriting this whole business, not your brother,” he uttered sincerely under his breath, “he’s a hot-headed idiot, while you are stronger and more brilliant than all of these fools combined.”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[baeshijima]

imagine being a baker stationed in marmoreal market, okhema.

it has been a few months since you first started the business. as is with most, it was a slow start. in the beginning only few took interest, probably curious about the new the dessert shop popping up from seemingly nowhere. you’d garnered a loyal set of regulars, however, who always came for either something sweet to kickstart their day before work, or to treat themselves before they went back home.

in between those times? sparse. but you made it work… somehow.

what it did allow for, however, was the trial and error of new desserts! you can’t always be following the same recipes as everyone else; you have to put you and your craft out there!

…which brings you to now.

“so?” you prod, fiddling with the hem of your apron as you watch mydei chew a piece of the freshly baked golden honeycake. “how is it?”

having mydei in your shop is nothing new. he was the first to know about you wanting to open this shop in the first place, after all — back when you were an aspiring baker and he a runaway crown prince trying to find refuge for his people in okhema. despite his duties as a chrysos heir, he still manages to pop in every day when not away for a mission. how? well, you chalk it up to his sweet tooth and appointed position as your official taste tester.

a pleased hum escapes him; the soft clinks of cutlery rings out once more.

“i prefer your version of the golden honeycake compared to the traditional one,” he comments, taking another bite of the pancake. lifting his gaze to meet yours, a fork is outstretched towards you, a neatly cut square of the golden honeycake skewered on its prongs. “what made you want to change the recipe?”

“oh, that?” arms braced against the small two-person table, you lean towards the fork. a soft sweetness coats your tongue as you concoct a reply. “well, i wanted to make something you would like as a little thank you. you’ve supported me to pursue this dream for a while now. if it weren’t for you…” your voice tapers, eyes softening and lips spreading into an appreciative smile as you meet his slightly widened eyes. “if it weren’t for you, i doubt i would’ve had the courage to make it this far. so thank you, mydei, for being with me during this time.”

“it’s… it’s no problem.” mydei responds after a brief silence, the words briefly interrupted by a swift clearing of his throat as he glances away. “think nothing of it.”

save for your pleased hums, idle comments on new recipes you want to try, and the bustle of marmoreal market just beyond the walls, tranquility befalls your space.

when mydei calls out your name, you halt at the unusually resolute tone. “your efforts will come to fruition. i will make sure of that.”

---

well. sure enough, his words came true. the sight of the shop filled with customers and the long queue trickling into marmoreal market is evident proof of that.

when faced with the sudden influx of customers just two weeks ago, you thought it might’ve been a hallucination concocted by zagreus themself to torment you.

it was only after the thirteenth order of golden honeycake did you start to suspect zagreus wouldn’t waste their time on such a trivial matter on a speck of dust such as yourself. the real nail in the coffin was when you overheard some rather telling chatter between two ladies.

“wow! this modified version of the golden honeycake really is amazing! no wonder crown prince mydeimos loves it!”

“i wonder how they managed to get him to promote it…”

…if you knew having mydei say a few good words about your baked goods would boost your sales exponentially, you would have asked if he wanted to be a part-timer back when you first opened! looking at his withering stare and rather prominent frown as he waits for you to finish your closing shift, however, has you rethinking the choice.

(well, even with him being a prude, mydei would still undeniably draw in customers, so maybe asking him wouldn’t do any harm…)

unbeknownst to you, mydei’s down-trodden mood has to do with the very customers you’re trying to draw in. maybe if he wasn’t so weak to your dismayed gaze and kicked puppy demeanour when a less than satisfactory number of customers came into the shop every now and then, he wouldn’t be feeling so neglected by the attention you’re giving to the crowds of customers now barging their way into your shop.

a subtle grimace flashed across his features. what are they, a bunch of starving dogs fighting to get their meals? don’t they know basic manners? etiquette?

seriously, just until recently it was always quiet in the mornings. it was always just you baking and getting the store ready, and him watching you do your craft, helping out wherever he could — namely in taste-testing said baked goods.

in spite of the part of himself which regrets spreading the word of your talents and having them hog all your attention, the larger part of himself knows you deserve all of this at the very least.

he has witnessed your dedication and continuous efforts to make this dream of yours come true throughout the years you’ve known each other, and it certainly would be no lie if he said you’d weasled your way into his heart. from that day you’d offered him and his people baked goods and drinks upon their arrival in okhema, mydei should have known there would be no escape from seeking you out, ultimately causing this all-consuming fondness for you to grow by the day.

leaning back with a heavy sigh, mydei glances over at the counter where you’re still hard at work. really, your closing hours are soon. should he perhaps stand menacingly at your side to shoo away the customers? no, maybe just directly making them leave would be the most efficient. and—

a torrent of warmth engulfs him, clinging to his skin. mouth slightly agape, he can only gaze wordlessly at your joyful interactions.

…perhaps a few more customers would do no harm. just a few, though.

(curse that heart-melting smile of yours. it truly is the bane of his existence.)

[morning-softness]

For me, it’s the one about Gerry Keay haunting(?) a tattoo parlor and helping people escape the Fears by giving them tattoos. Just because the idea intrigues me so much and it’s so well-written.

And this one about Jon and Martin at a Halloween party (university AU) has some lines that I return to time and time again whenever I’m at a low point.

And this one is such a fascinating and heartbreaking concept that I think about it at least once a week. Imagine getting tortured for a thousand years to serve as a magical battery for someone you loved and who you thought loved you in turn. And then getting rescued and just… trying to live a normal life again in a world that’s completely different from what you knew and where no one could possibly understand what you’ve been through.

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2745946

has anyone else ever had a fanfic that just... haunts them? like it's been months and maybe even years since you read it, but it just lingers with you and you can never truly leave behind the imprint it made on you? and maybe it's just a single line, one sentence that you can't shake off, that takes up residence in your mind and stays there, feeding into your psyche and subtly influencing your brainspace and maybe even your writing or other works?

[aajjks]

Broke Boy, Fake Girlfriend (m)

synopsis. Your annoying roommate, Jungkook’s shameless fake dating act goes hilariously wrong when he thinks he can charm you into paying for his café splurge, but you turn the tables with some dangerously sweet flirtation.

pairings: jungkook x fem!reader.

genre: 18+, crack, roommate au.

warnings: 18+, fâkë dätïng tròpë, châôtïc flïrtïng, brókë bøy Jûngkook, tëâsïng, ëmbârrássïng mômënts, önë-sïdëd crùsh, pûblïc hümïlïâtïön, pówër shïft, hëâvy tënsïön, tëâsïng bântër, spïcy flïrtâtïön, crïngë mômënts, slöw bûrn.

note. I can’t thank you guys enough for so much love on the both parts so I thought maybe I should give you another one. Also, I found this GIF on Pinterest so credits to owner And Let’s just hope you guys would like this as well and tell me what do you think of the chaos and y’all can talk to him whenever you want. ENJOY.

“My girlfriend will pay for this.”

How do you always end up in this situation?

You blink.

You’re standing in line at a café, hands casually tucked in your pockets, minding your own business when those words hit you like a freight train.

Jungkook’s standing at the counter, a devilish grin plastered across his face, watching you with those damn puppy dog eyes. His tattooed hand casually gestures to you, like this whole scenario is as normal as breathing.

The barista, the one who’s been shamelessly flirting with him this entire time, looks back and forth between you two, her cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh—;” she giggles, voice breathy. “That’s so sweet of you.”

Sweet.

Sweet would be not dragging you into his latest ridiculous plan just because he’s broke again after spending all his money on gaming skins and who knows what else.

You narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t even flinch.

“Yeah, my baby’s got me,” Jungkook hums, stretching lazily against the counter, his hoodie pulling up just enough to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of toned abs. Intentional. “She takes such good care of me.”

You swear you could hear the little pitter-patter of his fan club forming in the background.

‘My baby?’

You grit your teeth, gripping your wallet like it might suddenly escape your clutches. “You—;” you inhale, trying to remain calm. “I’m paying?”

“Obviously.” Jungkook doesn’t even hesitate.

God, he’s insufferable.

“Since when are we dating?”

Jungkook gasps.

Gasped.

He puts his hand on his heart, pretending to be hurt and makes a dramatic expression that makes you almost cringe.

“Babe. What do you mean?” His voice cracks with that exaggerated hurt, and you can’t help but roll your eyes.

The barista giggles again, and you can see the sparkles in her eyes as she watches this whole ridiculous exchange.

Jungkook still has that pleading look, trying to play it off like you’re the one at fault for not realizing you were in the middle of his latest fake-dating fantasy.

You both know he’s out of cash and desperate.

He can’t possibly pay for this.

You should say no. You should do the right thing.

You should humiliate him right here in front of the cute barista and walk away, satisfied in your moral high ground.

But then—

“I’d get her anything off the menu,” Jungkook sighs, voice dropping an octave, his gaze lingering on your lips like he’s about to pull the most dramatic move of the century.

“She’s my princess. My world.”

Oh no.

Oh, he thinks you won’t play along.

And that—that little shit—that’s when you realize.

Jungkook’s not just doing the broke, flirting for sympathy… act. No, he’s flipping the script. He’s going full-on fake boyfriend mode.

He’s giving you those eyes, the ones that usually make girls melt on the spot.

His voice is suddenly, smooth and heavy, like he actually wants this to be real.

And then? The barista is still watching.

Oh, you know exactly what he’s doing.

You step closer, fingers lightly brushing against his chest as you lean in, your lips barely a whisper from his ear.

He freezes, clearly not prepared for the full-on flirtation storm that’s coming his way.

“Kookieee,” you say, voice dripping with saccharine sweetness. “Of course, I’m paying for my baby.”

Jungkook’s eyes go wide, and he makes this little sound—like he’s actually short-circuiting. He’s malfunctioning, visibly thrown off by how casually you’re playing along.

The barista is living for this. She’s practically sparkling now, too, and you know she’s ready to ship this fake couple straight to the moon.

But Jungkook? Jungkook’s dying.

He’s still standing there, mouth hanging slightly open, blinking rapidly like he needs to reset his brain, but you’re not done yet.

You lean in just a little bit more, hand still firmly placed against his chest, pressing your body close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.

His breathing gets heavier, a little shaky. And then you make your move.

You brush your fingers down his shirt, just enough to tease him, watching the way his whole body locks up, like he’s trying not to make a scene.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word. He just stands there like the world’s hottest, most embarrassed mess.

“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re all flustered,” you murmur, leaning back slightly to get a good look at him, your fingers brushing his jaw.

His skin is so warm, so soft, and it’s making your whole body heat up.

Fuck, he’s cute.

Jungkook doesn’t even try to respond— he’s too busy replaying every single moment you’ve touched him in the last few seconds, and he’s mentally begging for you to finish the job.

He’s literally so embarrassing, but for the first time in your life, you had fun embarrassing him.

You take a step back, giving him just a little space. He’s still staring at you like you’ve just turned his life upside down.

Good. You’ve won.

“Let’s play, babe,” you say with a smirk, voice lighter now. He’s completely melting.

You swipe your card, taking your drinks.

You turn toward the door, but before you leave, you lean in one last time, brushing past him just close enough for your lips to graze his ear.

Oh, this is fun.

“You owe me, babe,” you whisper.

And with that, you leave him there, dazed, red-faced, and completely undone, just standing there like a mess in front of the barista, who is looking at him like she’s just witnessed an angel descend from heaven.

You walk out of the café like you’ve just done your civic duty in the most chaotic, teasing way possible. The power is all yours.

Victory. And Jungkook? Well, he’s got a lot to think about.

And a raging boner to take care of.

[sabsberries]

birthday sex

summary - it wouldn't really be a happy birthday without some birthday head

w.c. - 2.2k

warnings - smut, oral (m! receiving), biting idk, swearing, use of y/n, first person, fiancé Harry!!!

masterlist | taglist

When I first met Harry, I quickly realised that one of his biggest fears was growing old. He had never explicitly told me, but I could tell that as the plans we made as freshly turned twenty-one year olds grew closer, Harry’s fear seemed to grow with them. Touring Italy at twenty-five? Perfect. Turning twenty-five? Terrifying. A weekend away in France for his twenty-seventh? Wonderful. Becoming a twenty-seven year old? The worst thing in the world.

I could only imagine the turmoil in his head these past few days, gnawing away at the peaceful thoughts that usually came with his well-earned touring breaks—leaving behind nothing but a big, hot, steaming pile of insecurity and fear.

Of course, he would never admit it—not to his family, not to his friends, and especially not to me. But I saw it in the smallest of ways. The way his lip quivered when he spoke about the future, the slight furrow in his brow, the way his jaw clenched, as if bracing for impact. He talked about growing old with me like it was a dream, but his body betrayed him. He hated it.

Now, though, he looked at peace. The early morning light spilled through the curtains, casting soft shadows over his face as he slept, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. For a few quiet moments, there was no fear, no tension—just him, lost in sleep, untouched by the weight of the day ahead. But today was his birthday.

I watched him, my fingers tracing invisible patterns against the sheets as I ran through every idea I had. I could make him breakfast, of course. Or maybe we could find a new café to try. Or we could even stay in and order something special. That’d be nice. But none of it felt enough. None of it could shield him from the inevitable, the thing he was dreading so much. I wanted today to be perfect for him, but how do you make peace with something that’s impossible to avoid?

He shifted slightly, his fingers twitching as if searching for something. A faint sigh escaped his lips, his eyes fluttering open just a crack before closing again, as though trying to hold on to the last remnants of sleep. His eyes slowly opened, the brightness of the room pulling him fully awake. For a moment, he lay still, blinking at the ceiling as if waiting for the world to make sense again. Then, his gaze drifted to me—soft, familiar, but there was something else in it today, something hidden, almost hesitant.

"Good morning, Birthday Boy." I mumbled, watching as his eyes fluttered shut again, and a grin tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Morning, my love." His voice was husky, tinged with humour. "What time is it?"

"Only half nine, or something. Way too early to be awake on a Saturday."

He yawned and nodded slightly, rubbing his eye. "Come here." His hand found my waist, pulling me on top of him, his grin never fading.

I laughed as he pulled me onto his stomach, my legs straddling his waist, the duvet tangled around us. His cheeks were slightly flushed, his eyes hazy with sleep, and his lips stretched into a wide, easy grin. "What do you want to do today?" I whispered, grabbing his hands and absently fiddling with his ringless fingers.

"Dunno. Nothing, really." His grin deepened, and his gaze never wavered from mine. His fingers twitched, almost as if he wanted to hold onto mine, but he stopped himself.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." He reaffirmed, voice soft. "I'd quite like to spend it doing fuck all with my fiancé. Who, by the way, hasn’t even given me my birthday kiss yet."

"Well, excuse me for wanting to let you wake up before bombarding you." I laughed, placing a hand on his chest and pushing it down when he tried to lean up to meet me.

I leaned down instead, brushing my lips against his, soft at first—just a gentle pressure, a playful reminder that I was here. His breath caught for a second, as if he hadn’t expected it to be quite so soon, but he melted into it, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction. His hands found their way to my back, pulling me closer, as if testing the distance between us.

The kiss deepened, slow and easy, like it had a quiet promise behind it. His lips moved against mine with a delicate urgency, as though making sure this moment would be just ours. I let myself get lost in it, closing my eyes and feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my fingertips, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my chest.

For a while, neither of us spoke, the world outside fading into nothing but the softness of the kiss, the comfort of knowing the other was there, and for a brief moment, all the worries that clung to Harry seemed to be forgotten. 

His lips curved into a smirk against mine, but there was something else there now—something heavier. His hands, which had been resting lightly on my back, gripped tighter, his fingers pressing into my skin like he was trying to hold me there, just a little longer. The shift between us was subtle at first, a slight change in the way his mouth moved against mine, the way his breath hitched between kisses. But then, like a current pulling me under, it wasn’t just a kiss anymore. It was heat, need, something deeper. I pulled back just enough to look at him, my forehead resting against his.

"Happy birthday, Harry," I whispered, the words feeling more weighty now than they ever had before.

He hummed quietly, his head shaking ever so slightly, and lifted his face so that our lips could slot back together. It was different now. It was almost hungry, and the way his lips took dominance over mine certainly matched the tone.

His hands slid under my shirt, warm and deliberate as he traced the curve of my waist, fingers brushing along the skin with a possessiveness that made my breath hitch. There was nothing innocent about it now. His touch was purposeful, searching, as if each movement of his hand was an attempt to tether me to him, to ground us both in this moment.

I could feel the weight of his gaze as it shifted, his eyes darkening just slightly when they met mine. The playful grin from moments before was gone, replaced by something more intense, almost desperate. It made my heart race faster, my pulse fluttering in my chest.

I leant down again, however this time to pepper light, barely there, kisses along his jawline and neck, slowly increasing in pressure until I reached just above his collarbone, where I sunk my teeth in. "Oh shit!" He hissed, bucking his hips up against mine and letting out a breathy laugh at the way it made me moan.

I moved down his chest, nipping after every few kisses, and occasionally darting out my tongue to sooth over any particularly harsher bites, before shimmying down his hips, placing a small 'thank you' kiss just above his belly button as he spread his legs enough for me to climb between.

His grey boxers had formed a darker patch where the tip of his dick had begun leaking, and, despite being covered by fabric, I could tell he had to be painfully hard by now. I pressed a delicate kiss on the wet patch, pushing out my tongue to slightly swipe across it before moving back down to his thighs and kissing from his meaty inner thigh up to his hip bone.

"Please, Y/N, c'mon." He practically cried, his hand moving to scoop a handful of hair into a ponytail, but not doing much to move my head aside from a gentle tug.

"Be patient." I mumbled, sinking my teeth into his inner thigh.

"Holy— fuck!" He exclaimed, his leg jostling in surprise.

I let go and used my tongue to sooth over the area before placing a final kiss, and moving back up.

I hooked my fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down his thighs just enough so I could have full access. His dick truly looked painful, with his tip a deep red with precum leaking from the top, and his base thick with his veins slightly enlarged. I dipped my head down and wrapped my lips around his tip, barely sucking whilst my tongue moved around in circles.

Once again, his hips shot up, pushing his dick further into my mouth, and a loud, deep, guttural moan escaped from him, "Oh my fuckin— oh, shit, baby!"

With one hand, I pushed his shaking hips back down onto the bed whilst the other wrapped around his base, using the spit that trailed from my mouth as lube as I bobbed my head up and down.

I pulled my hand away and relaxed my jaw, allowing Harry deeper down my throat whilst my hands massaged deep circles into his hip bones.

“Shit I— please, Y/N.” He whined. I looked up at him and felt my cheeks heating at the sight of his head thrown back, his chest heaving and his abs clenched tight.

My jaw was already beginning to ache, but I didn’t care. The way he was whimpering and whining and crying out was enough motivation to plough through.

I pulled up completely. My hand shot back to continue a steady pace with my thumb encircling his tip, pushing over his slit every few seconds.

“Please, can I?” He asked, his cheeks flushed a deep pink colour, his lips red and raw from him biting them, and his eyes slightly clouded over and barely open.

I grinned, already knowing what he wanted to do, and nodded my head, allowing him to scoop up all of my hair into a ponytail and guide me back to his cock. His hand moved to replace mine, and after a couple pumps, his dick was being led right back into my open mouth.

Almost immediately, my tongue began working overtime, running up and down the vein in the underside of his cock, whilst I was gently sucking. “Okay, you ready?” He questioned, shifting his hips and propping up both of his legs so that his feet were flat against the bed.

I hummed ‘yes’, and once again relaxed my jaw. At first, his thrusts were slow, careful. Then, his grip on my hair tightened. His hips snapped forward, his movements gaining purpose. The sounds between us were obscene, messy, breathless, desperate. Each time his tip hit the back of my throat, I moaned louder, my body reacting on instinct.

As his thrusts got sloppier, Harry’s whimpers turned into groans, his back arched away from the bed, and his grip on my hair became almost impossibly tight.

“I’m gonna– shit! I’m gonna cum.” He groaned, his spare hand clutching the bedsheets next to his waist.

I bobbed my head to match the timings of his thrusts, and with one final dig of my nails into his thigh and a loud whimper, he was shooting hot bursts of cum down my throat. His grip loosened with every groan, moan, and whine that escaped him, and, after a minute or so of silence, he was quick to rub the back of my scalp and pull me off of his dick and up towards him.

"You’re fucking amazing. Do you know that?" He chuckled, breathlessly, his chest rising and falling beneath me. His hair was damp at the edges, sticking slightly to his forehead, and a faint sheen of sweat glowed against his flushed skin.

I grinned, my heart swelling at the way he looked at me, like I was something to be treasured. "I think I’ve heard it before—once or twice."

His breathing slowed, his grip on me loosening as exhaustion crept in. I traced slow circles over his ribs, my touch light, grounding him. He hummed, content, his fingers skimming lazily up my arm before coming to rest over my heart.

Our faces mirrored each other, wide, unabashed smiles stretching across pink-tinted cheeks. I traced my fingers along the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the warmth of his skin, the slight roughness where stubble had started to grow. His eyes, still heavy with sleep and something softer, never left mine.

I shifted slightly, pressing my forehead against his, breathing him in - warm, familiar, safe. "I love you. Happy birthday." My voice was barely more than a whisper, but it carried everything I meant.

His fingers ghosted over my waist before pulling me closer, his grip firm yet gentle, like he needed to feel me against him. His smile softened, the playfulness still there, but something deeper flickered in his gaze. "I love you more."

For a moment, neither of us moved. The world outside didn’t matter; the ticking of the clock, the slow morning sun creeping across the sheets, the quiet hum of the city beyond our window. There was just us, tangled in warmth, the weight of the day which lay ahead momentarily forgotten.

------------

taglist - @harryshouseo1 @hannah9921 @hisparentsgallerryy @secretisme4 @cloudyluun @mads3502 reply here or dm to be added!

[itadorey]

pro hero bakugo katsuki who is unfortunately used to the swoons and flirty expressions he receives from people on the daily. he’s only grown more handsome as the years go by, and the media seems determined to remind him about that every day.

it’s made his daily life insufferable, and he finds that it annoys him when people bend over backward and stutter and let him walk all over them in an attempt to please him wherever he goes. he’s just managed to escape a gaggle of enthusiastic and giggly fans when—

“hey! watch it asshole!”

he blinks slowly when he crashes into you, a frustrated groan leaving your lips when your drink goes tumbling to the floor. he’s baffled by the glare you shoot him, pretty eyes glowering with disdain before you scoop the useless cup up and toss it into the trash.

“what the fu—“

“next time watch where you’re going,” you grumble, cutting him off and wiping a stray drop of liquid from your sleeve. “thought a pro would have better reflexes.”

your short interaction has sent a thrill through bakugo’s spine, and he feels himself fighting off a smirk before—

“what’s your name sweetheart?”

you falter for a moment, his question catching you off guard before you give him a wary look and answer. he motions to the coffee shop behind you with his head, moving towards the entrance as he aims a cocky grin your way.

“need to know what name to give the barista so i can make it up to you.”

[vilevenom]

This piece is so pretty! I couldn't help myself but to write some fic. Sorry 😖

Sonic laughed as he fired off another bullet into a seeking, grasping siren, watching in fascination as its watery body scattered like glitter into the wind.

Tails had warned the crew of the dangers of the waters they were sailing into, instructing everyone to stuff their ears full of cotton, for the sinful song of the sirens were known to drag even the strongest men to their death. Sonic, of course, had scoffed that their crew were the most steadfast and strongest on the seven seas, and no siren call could ever sway their decidedly stalwart and stoic captain from their goals, even as he obediently shoved scraps of fabric into his own ears. After all, everyone knew that there was no one the captain could be swayed towards, and nothing he would relinquish their lofty goals for.

At least, that's what Sonic had thought.

Turning sharply as what looked to be the last of the sirens escaped from their ship, Sonic was eager to share in the ships victory with his captain. Although bickering and fist fights weren't abnormal for the two, Sonic liked to think that, as first mate, he and his captain were thick as thieves, often sharing meals and drinks together over shared stories of combat, victory, and even the occasional loss. So, it was to his greatest surprise to find one last siren perched over the railing of the upper deck, the scraps Sonic had seen the captain shove into his ears himself held aloft in the creatures hands. Its sweet song must have wormed its way into the captains mind, as his hands were limp at his sides, pistol loose in his grip and sword laid out on the deck, forgotten.

"Captain?!" Sonic shouted, watching in abject horror as the watery beast stole his face as it pulled his captain in, tenderly stroking at his face as a lover would. His feet felt frozen as his captain stepped forward, towards the railings, as the creature crooned, luring its prey to what would surely be a watery death.

It was Knuckles who acted, his sword slicing through the creatures arms as he shoved their captain back, an unearthly screech ripping through the air, heard even through the crews makeshift ear plugs as the last siren leapt away from the ship. At last, the crew rejoiced, bits of fabric and cotton flying into the air as the ship swept away from the sirens hunting grounds.

But Sonic stood still, unable to even think as raucous noise exploded around him. His eye met that of his captain, who stared right back for only the briefest of moments, before turning away, shamefaced.

"The time for celebrations comes after clean-up," Captain Shadow barked, a snarl of his face only partially covering the flush on his face, "Make sure those scallywags didn't knick anything necessary, and fix anything the filthy beasts broke! Tomorrow we make for land, where you can wile away your day, but tonight we must mend and make sure we're still fit to sail!"

A rowdy shout of affirmation from the crew was all the captain needed, before he was sweeping through the crowd to his quarters, Sonic short to follow on his heels.

"Captain-"

"Not a word!"

Sonic jumped as a dagger dug into the wood door frame next to his head, thrown cleanly from across the room where Shadow was already hunched over the maps strewn across his desk.

"...Shadow," Sonic soothed, slowly striding across the room, being mindful of any other weapons that may come flying at his head. He took it as a good sign when he was threatened with no further bodily harm, and sidled up next to his captain. He reached towards Shadows hand on the desk, only to fall back as it was quickly snatched away, the captain turning his back to him.

"Y'weren't supposed to see that," Shadow rumbled, head bowed slightly.

"I think the whole crew saw that," Sonic tried to joke, only for it to fall flat as Shadow's shoulders inched towards his ears. "No. No, sorry, that wasn't funny," Sonic sighed, reaching out again to gently touch Shadow's elbow. He was rewarded by the captain tilting his head slightly towards Sonic.

"M'sorry," Shadow sighed, "You're my first mate. That was...T'won't happen again."

"What if...I want it to?" Sonic dared to breath, only to take a sharp step back as Shadow whirled towards him. He froze as Shadow stared him down, an unreadable expression flickering over his face in the dim candlelight of the captain's quarters.

"And how's that?" Shadow finally asked, tilting his chin up in curiosity, even as Sonic flushed and bit nervously at his lip.

"Obviously, not the nearly being pulled to your death thing," Sonic hummed, gingerly taking a step into Shadows space, "but, perhaps the staring at me longingly part?" He gained a bit more confidence as Shadow continued to watch him curiously. "Perhaps, even...a further part, where," he lifted his hands, mimicking where the siren had so tenderly held Shadows face, "where I kiss you?"

"Aye," Shadow breathed, lifting his own hands to cup around Sonic's, brushing his thumbs gently over his knuckles, "I do believe that, perhaps, that could be arranged."

Sonic snickered quietly as he drew their faces together, his toes curling in his boots as the please little hum Shadow let out as their lips met.

sinbad sirens but they appear as the person you desire

[moonlight-prose]

origins logan, raw, passionate, in a truck, while it rains, a little wine drunk. Yeah. 😁

i have no clue if this is a request or just a thought, but i ran with what my mind thought up. but also cause i haven't written anything fully in two months so this is me practicing to get my voice back. enjoy the heinous mess.

warnings: 18+ only past this point.

You expected to freeze with the shitty little heater blowing air cold enough to raise bumps on your flesh. The overbearing echo of rain slamming against the rusted exterior of his worn in (near broken) truck. You expected to die of hypothermia. With the coroners report noting the time of death to be the second he opened that bottle of wine.

You expected a lot of things to go wrong.

That's how you managed to survive this long. In a world so hellbent on destruction, you took the cynics way out and managed to save time on the ride. Things were fucked, hope somehow managed to become a commodity the wealthy could profit off of. And mutants were enemy number one without actually being hunted for fun.

So you took note of the way your breath hung in the air—the flavor of bitter cheap red wine like a pungent toxin that only sunk you deeper onto the silver claws of fate that promised protection. Even as they offered exposure to the elements. You watched as his eyelids grew heavy, his gaze fixed on the way your top gaped and fingers gripped onto the soft leather of his jacket.

You expected this to go wrong too.

That your words would fall on deaf ears, that you would fumble as he slid a hand between your denim clad thighs. How long would it take for him to jolt back to reality? To understand that you were far too much for him to handle as the world fell on his shoulders.

How long could you get away with feeling wanted, yearned for?

When your fingers clawed at the leather seats in the back, your mouth open and chapped from the cold, is when you stopped. Thoughts slipped past the inner psyche of despondent reality. Hope washed over your spit covered shoulders as he bit down on the plush skin with a grunt. Life appeared bright and hot and burned with something new the second he plunged into your sopping cunt.

"That's it," he muttered, lips catching the shell of your ear as his cock carved a new path in your once aching body. "Open up for me baby."

Your words escaped as a mewl. Eyes rolling back and nails digging new shapes into seats he'd have to fix.

He laughed at your mindless state of bliss. "Gone and made you dumb huh? Cleared out that pretty head of yours."

"L-Logan," you managed to grunt, hips slapping back to his quick timed thrusts that struck gold.

"'S okay." Another bite to your spine had your thighs shaking, the slap of his balls lewdly hitting your clit made sparks embed themselves into your soul. "I like ya better this way. You think too fuckin' much anyways. Gotta shut out the bad shit don't I?"

"I'm gonna-"

"Yeah I know you are," he bit out, fingers digging shapes of intent into the flesh of your hips.

You were aware of the truck rocking back and forth. Of the mist gathering on frozen windows and your moans swallowing the sound of rain. You could feel the tingle of red wine in the base of your stomach. The haze of its beauty clouding everything but him and the small confines of this hot car. You were aware of nothing going wrong, of his cock grinding wet and raw into you, of the pool of slick forming on the seat of his car.

Nothing bad existed in this sphere of bliss. Nothing horrid could happen.

Claws punctured the seat beside your head, his hips slapping fast enough to hurt as the tight coil of tension snapped hard enough to halt your heart.

"Fuck!" he roared, sinking into you deep enough to scrape something aching and lovely. His cock twitching hard with each spurt of cum—spilling out onto your mess on shitty brown leather.

Sucking in a breath felt easy, uncomplicated. Your mind drifted into blank thoughts and images of him. Into a state of bliss with Logan's name scratched on the walls.

You expected to freeze. To lose a limb or two from the air cold enough to kill. But then his body settled over yours, his hands cradling your stomach, face pressed into your back. And warmth became the only language you spoke.

[sylus-doll]

Synopsis: It's normal to feel insecure every once in a while. But what would Sylus think of it? You wonder if he'll think that you're too much but you still ask to look through his phone anyway. And he willingly lets you.

Warnings: Low self-esteem and self-doubt, insecurity, jealousy issues (thinking he has other girls), bad relationships (not with Sylus), mentions of stalking (done by Sylus to you), mentions of threat messages.

Author's note: Is this controversial. Idk. I think I'm overbearing, so this is self-indulgent but I hope that it helps if you can relate to it as well. This is based on one of his Destiny Café and affinity level up lines. Comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

You had always been a little insecure of yourself. Comparing yourself to others, envying the life they have, wishing to be a different person entirely. All of this had been ingrained into you like heated iron scorching skin, branding itself onto the fragile fabric of your soul. It would be alright, if it didn't consume your being and take the reigns of your mind at the worst of times.

Previous partners always brushed you off when you wanted to speak to them about your troubles. Telling you that it was fine— that they could handle it. Lies. Maybe they would indulge you once or twice, but they would always end up angry at you for being... difficult. Your jealousy is out of control, your clinginess is overbearing, your need for reassurance is exhausting. Always too much, too high maintenance. It all ends sour.

But you can't help it. The need to satiate this overwhelming emotion withers you away. Your desperate want for someone to claim you as their number one— the only one—overrides rationality. Yet you have learned to bite your tongue. Force your words to die in your throat because you never want to be too much. Especially not for someone like Sylus. Sylus who has always been so understanding and patient and you are terrified that this might tip him over the edge.

Sylus, however, notices that you seem rather lost in thought. Although he has been on his phone for quite some time, nothing gets past him. Not your jittery behaviour or the sighs that escape past your lips as if they were the words you wished to convey but held back on. He sees you fiddling with a trinket, some gemstone he left lying around the base that Mephisto probably went for. Switching off his phone, he sets it aside in favour of staring intently at you, two fingers resting on his temple as he leans on his elbow.

“You seem quite fascinated with that pretty gem, sweetie. Has Mephisto influenced you with a crow's instinct?” Sylus teases you, an opening line for conversation.

You jerk, scowling at the man, “Don't compare me to that bird!”

He only chuckles, shaking his head.

“What's on your mind, sweetie?” The tone of his voice shifts, now noticeably softer. So are his eyes.

Sylus is worried about you, it seems. You glance at him, taking in the way he keeps his eyes only on you. Then briefly direct your gaze towards that damn phone of his before looking into his eyes. Vicious scarlet turned lovesick velvet; it engulfs you in safety. Your lip quivers, and you bite down to stop it from doing so. What would Sylus say if you asked to look through his phone? How irritated or annoyed would he be? But his eyes are so warm, and you crave the gentle adoration it drowns you in.

“Can I... look through your phone?” You ask hesitantly, breaking eye contact first.

Well. That was the last thing he expected you'd ask him. He stares at you a little dumbfounded, only briefly, before regaining his composure. He expected a favor, something grand or perhaps requested the impossible from him. Of all things Sylus owns, and you ask for his mobile device. With a quirk of his brow and small tug at his lips, he gestures for you to come closer. When you do, he sits you across his lap, pulling his phone from the coffee table with his evol and drops it off in your hands.

“Go ahead, sweetie. I have nothing to hide from you, only the authorities.”

Sylus is patient when you begin your... search. Throughout all the apps he has; social media, websites, albums, contacts. You find that most of it contains you and N109 business. Pictures of you that you don't recall him taking, candid ones looking away from the camera. Auction sites where he's betting on antique weapons and vintage wine. Messages to Luke and Kieran regarding missions, and sometimes about keeping an eye on you. Ominous ones from others that come in the form of—

“What do the codes mean?” The question tumbles out of you before you fully think it through. Damn you.

His hand envelops yours, scrolling through the messages with his thumb.

“This one, is a location. Some sort of trap, most likely. The one you looked at earlier was a threat. And as for this...” Sylus explains every single one, not even hesitating.

Once you're satisfied, you give him back his phone. There was nothing. No other girl, no secret lover, not a single piece of incriminating evidence. Shame and guilt immediately take root within you. Sylus is not that kind of person, you should have known that. Should have trusted him more and let it be. Why were you like this? Apologize. It's what you need to do now because maybe he thought you were doubting him.

“I'm sorry—” he cuts you off.

“No. You have nothing to apologize for. Didn't I tell you that you have access to all my resources? Including, but not limited to, my phone. You can take a mile if I give you an inch.”

He brings your hand to his lips, kissing each knuckle. Even the tips of your fingers, and a final one on the inside of your palm.

“Next time, you don't need to ask. Just snatch it away from me if you think I'm giving it too much attention. I'll drop anything to show you how much I adore you.” He looks at you, gaze unwavering.

You will never be too much for Sylus. Everything that you have to offer, he will devour like a dog starved. He has been deprived of the intensity of your affections for far too long to be picky. If your love is tender, he will soften himself from metal to clay and be molded by your hands as best he can. And if your love is untamed ferocity he will embrace you with open arms, ready to be ripped apart. It will be alright— Sylus will stitch himself back together if that was what you needed him to do. That is what he will do to love you.

[strwbrychffoncke]

"i just wanted to tell you incase you forgot... 'i love you',, 3k words ⸺ event masterlist synopsis: the ways in which you tell sylus "i love you" and ways in which he reciprocates contains: lnds sylus x mc?reader (fem in mind but she/her is used like once or twice) ,fluff! ,kitten/sweetie used as pet names ,domestic!sylus feel ,cuddling ,playful banter ,baker sylus ,incorrect evol use but its wholesome ,sylus chases u around ,twins feature ,not much to say other than soft!sylus being in love w u / both of u being lovesick for e/o + twins shenanigans at the end (i think thats it) note: (mostly edited ,will check back later) added this track last minute but immediately knew who i wanted to write it for. first fic of the event woooo~ :x

-

sylus wasn't a man of love-filled sentiments.

or at least, that's what you'd initially thought.

a man like him, the big bad leader of onychinus, someone who was above everyone else and the most sought-after criminal, wielding a steel-cold gun in one of his bloodstained hands...

someone like that didn't know love, surely.

but oh, how wrong you were.

you were the only one that knew, under all of that tough exterior, the true tenderness that lied beneath it.

and you were the sole subject to it, from the very beginning.

-

you woke unceremoniously in a bed that was not your own, surrounded in a blanket of warmth but not solely due to the comforter surrounding your plush body:

it was mainly due to the otherworldly individual beneath you, who you were using as your personal body pillow of sorts.

you stir, letting out a small groan before peeking your eyes open to catch a glimpse of the man before you.

the big, bad leader of onychinus, sleeping soundly in bed next to you, arm firmly wrapped around your waist and your head comfortably planted on his chest— your favorite makeshift pillow.

you can't help but to smile at the sight.

feeling a touch mischievous, you begin trailing your fingers, touch featherlight, up from his waist towards his chest and back down, slowly shifting to drawing mindless shapes in the expanse of exposed skin.

he doesn't react to your touches, still deep in sleep, so you change your tactic.

you drag a single index finger up, up, up past his slender waist, then his slowly rising and falling chest, his pretty neck then up towards his sharp jawline to poke at his cheek.

he grunts in his sleep, but nothing more.

you let out a huff, lifting your head up and staring at the serene expression on his face— even lost in the land of dreams, you couldn't help but to admire every feature of his visage.

a couple of minutes pass by just like this until you decide you're feeling a little bored again.

so you repeat your earlier action, dragging your finger up slowly, slowly, just about to poke his cheek again—

when your wrist is swiftly caught by a warm hand before you reach it.

"it seems my dream of a kitten mistaking me for a toy wasn't a dream after all."

sylus' crimson eyes crack open to look directly into your bright (albeit still slightly-sleepy) ones, heart full at the little playful smile you're sporting.

"she seems bored," he muses, thumb from the hand still gripping your wrist gently caressing your knuckles back and forth— a subconscious habit whenever his hands hold yours.

"should i entertain her?"

his question goes unanswered as he shifts over on his side while letting your hand go at the same time, causing you to slip from your spot on top of him to behind him, facing his back.

"—or leave her to her own devices?"

"sylus!"

your laughs are airy, quickly enveloping the spacious bedroom, and sylus finds himself smiling at the sound.

you don't leave him alone for long, quickly pressing against him and hugging his large frame from behind.

sylus releases a playful scoff. "is this a new attack of yours?"

"yeah, you can't escape, i'm going to stick to you like this forever and ever!"

"how touching," his voice is filled with amusement. "i think i can get used to this..." he trails off, smile evident in his words.

you stay that way for awhile when you decide to repeat your earlier actions in the new space, retracting a hand as you begin to draw shapes into his back this time. at the same time, sylus begins to hum whatever song is on his mind, eyes shut as he revels in your touches, neither one of you in a rush to get up from this sacred space for two.

"what are you drawing, kitten?"

your finger dances across the bare canvas of his back.

"guess," you answer simply as you continue.

he lets out a huff of a laugh. "not going to make it easy for me, are you?"

you hum in response, dragging your fingers to create imaginary lines over the muscles.

"is this... a kitten?" you can almost hear the raise of his eyebrow and see the funny yet curious expression on his face.

"oooh, i didn't think you'd get that one. how about..."

your finger traces several lines again, taking your time before you stop and wait for his answer.

"hmmm..." the way he's concentrating trying to figure it out fills you with amusement like no other.

"a... plane?"

"wrong, it was mephisto!"

"..it was close."

"are you calling mephisto a plane..?"

"..let's move on to the next one."

a hearty laugh rings out as you pretend to erase the image.

"wait until i tell him~"

"you wouldn't dare," he jokingly threats, causing you to only giggle back in response.

you decide on something much simpler this time.

your movements are slowed as you start near the center, drawing a tilted line outward and up before curving it inward and mimicking the same on the opposite side, connecting them to form a heart.

i love you.

a short, amused laugh leaves him, immediately recognizing the shape, but shaping a question instead of an answer.

"i'm not too sure, sweetie. might have to try that one again," he says, voice soft and tender, a hint of a smile within it.

say it once more.

so you do.

you repeat your action, slower, drawing another imaginary heart on his bare skin and within it, your unspoken promise of devotion towards him.

i love you.

this time, he turns around to face you, pulling you flush against him. you let out a short laugh before its devoured by his lips on yours, caught in a dance of love and devotion, giggles bubbling out of you between the breaks as you try to catch your breath while he needily chases your lips.

and the message he wishes to convey is clear as day.

i love you, too.

-

someone like him was the last person you thought you'd ever associate sweets with.

but after the time spent together, you find it hard to imagine anyone else cautiously reading the instructions, mixing the ingredients precisely, and carefully readying the icing for the fresh cupcakes that have come out of the oven and are left cooling nearby, except for him.

you tiptoe into the kitchen, watching him prepare a piping bag for the freshly-made icing he's made while he hums (when you asked him why he goes through the trouble of making it from scratch, he countered by asking "doesn't it taste better when you put in the work for something?" and despite playfully scoffing at the little smirk he offered, you couldn't help but to agree with him).

you smile at his focused expression, reading glasses perched on his nose, some remnants of ingredients spotting his clothes as he decides on which icing tip to use for these particular cupcakes (the last time he made them, they resembled simple flowers. based on the icing tip he was inspecting now, it seemed he was going to try for roses this time).

now just a step away from his back, you reach out both hands, index fingers out as you poke both sides of his lower back at the same time.

he jolts at the sensation, small gasp emitting from his lips and shock washing over him as he cranes his neck over his shoulder to catch your satisfied smile.

"another sneak attack, kitten?"

"i couldn't resist."

you step up beside him, taking a peek into the bowl filled with icing.

"red this time? i would've never guessed."

he scoffs, smiling.

"am i that predictable to you?"

"well, after spending so much time together, its only natural, right?"

"its bad if an enemy learns to read you so easily; who knows what trap will be set in the future."

"you're right," your words trail off as you step back, causing the sly crow before you to raise a brow.

"they can plan an attack when you're vulnerable, like—"

behind him again, you jump forward, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"this!"

his hearty chuckle rings through the kitchen.

even if he saw your intention from the start, he made no move to stop you. he'd surrender to you if you so much as asked.

"so? what will you do with me now that i'm caught?"

"hmmm..."

you hum in thought, noticing sylus has picked up the piping bag and was inserting the icing tip into it, getting ready to fill the bag with the red icing.

he's waiting for your answer when one of your hands reaches forward, dipping your finger into the icing bowl and quickly withdrawing your arms, swiftly turning around—

when you feel yourself being lifted into the air.

you let out a surprised squeal, giggling as you thrash around in the hold of sylus' evol, said man's attention still on the icing bag as he scoops a dallop of red into it.

"such a naughty kitten," he says, evol pulling your suspended body over to him slowly as you laugh the entire way.

"and naughty kittens deserve a punishment," as he speaks, he dips his own finger into the bowl of icing, red now gathered onto the tip before looking up at you through the rims of his glasses.

realizing what he's planning, you thrash around to no avail within the confines of his evol, trying to create distance between you two.

"nooooo! im sorry! please- aha, hahaha! sylus!"

your attempt is futile, sly smirk curling on sylus' lips as his finger moves closer and closer to your smiling face that's trying to inch further and further away, pressing his finger right onto your nose, painting it in red.

"noooooo!" you whine, sylus chuckling in amusement.

"how cute," he muses. "maybe this will teach you to behave in the kitchen."

he finally lets you down with his evol, eyeing you as you're standing upright and before him once again.

"now, go and wait till i'm finished, i'll even let you have the first taste," he bargains, turning his back to you and walking back towards the icing bowl.

despite this, a smirk plasters itself onto your face as you creep your way up behind him once again, red icing still staining your finger from moments ago stretched out, ready to paint his cheek—

"i thought i told you to behave."

despite the countless attempts to catch him by surprise attacks, he knows what you're saying through them:

i love you.

your wrist is easily caught in his grasp, stopping your attack before it can hit his cheek, a displeased groan emitting from your throat.

he brings your icing-covered finger close to his lips, lapping at the red. you watch as it momentarily stains his lips before his tongue licks them clean, humming at the flavor.

"it seems.. better this time, don't you think?" he turns, looking down at you.

you huff out a breath, trying to hide your embarrassment at his little action.

"be patient, kitten, i'll be done soon enough..." he trails off, hand unraveling from your wrist. "or do i have to restrain you?"

"i'm going, i'm going!"

with that, you scurry out of the kitchen to wait in the living room, sylus' amused chuckle surrounding the kitchen soon replaced by his soft, mindless humming once again.

i love you more.

-

a man of his caliber having a playful side seemed like a far-fetched idea.

until you experienced it for yourself.

and since the very first time, you're convinced he may be the most playful person on the entire planet.

to be fair, you kind of expected this, after all, its not like it was the first time.

but when you snatched a cupcake when his back was turned and took a bite, you didn't expect him to notice— at least, not right away.

but he did, and when he began counting, you instinctually bolted out of the kitchen, cupcake still in hand, giggles trailing behind you, determined to not be caught by him.

you dashed past the living area, two crow masks peeking up from their spot on the sofa and shifting to another figure— their boss— who was trailing behind you, watching until your figures disappeared down the long corridor of the hall.

"i give her five minutes," kieran pipes up, turning towards his brother.

"i give her three!"

"you're on!"

. . .

even as you dash down the halls, careful not to hit anything and running in scattered directions, it doesn't take long for sylus to close in on you.

you make it to a lounging area, movements slowed from the amount you've ran in the past couple of minutes, beginning to catch your breath after not sensing him around when you feel a weight on your shoulders.

"caught you."

"...!"

he's equally out of breath, taking a few moments to even his breathing, leaning against you more and more before pushing your body down onto the sofa. you fall back on the cushions with a short oof! still in the midst of catching your breath before sylus lays what feels like his entire weight right on top of you.

"sylus!"

you push against his broad chest, completely crushed by his beautiful build of a body, laughter ringing through the living space at your futile struggle against the smirking man above you.

"it seems a little kitten is stuck," he heaves a couple of breaths. "what are you going... to do about it?"

"get... off!" you laugh.

"i'm tired after all of that chasing... not to mention this is comfortable for me," he takes a couple more breaths, looking down at your slightly-sweaty face. "so i'd rather not."

"you're heavy, sylus!"

you weakly hit at his chest when he closes his eyes, pretending to fall asleep on top of you.

"sylus!"

slowly, he lifts himself up with his arms, hands planted flat on either side of your head.

"attacking me after making me chase you? how very cruel of you, sweetie."

your breaths are mostly even now, watching for sylus' next move.

he slowly begins moving his head down, and your eyes naturally flutter closed, expecting a kiss.

he takes this opportunity to plant his knees into the sofa, shifting his weight onto them as he leans down, breath fanning your lips.

"you trust me, sweetie?" he whispers against your lips.

"always," you whisper back.

he suddenly lifts his head, arms lifting at the same time before his fingers immediately begin dancing over your midriff.

your eyes shoot open in shock and betrayal, laughs immediately ripped from your throat as you thrash beneath him, trying your best to get away despite being caged into the sofa.

"s-sy-sy- ahahah! sto-o-p! s-stop! hahaha!"

his fingers continue their brutal attack on your sensitive skin, bubbling laughter infectious as sylus joins you, pleased smile adorning his face at your current state.

he relents shortly after, allowing you to catch your breath again as he looks down at you in a daze, reaching out to straighten your hair.

"kiss..." your voice is breathless, but he catches it.

"hm?"

"you still owe me... a kiss...." you breathe out, looking up at him expectantly. "from earlier."

"ah, of course."

he leans down, capturing your lips with his, hovering over your body as your arms snake around his neck, pouring your hearts into the action. you both kiss with equal fervor, chasing each others lips, never able to get your fill of the other.

i love you.

he pulls away slowly, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close in fear of him leaving you all of a sudden. the look in his eyes says i'm not going anywhere, his forehead touching yours as you both breathe each other in before he tucks his head into your shoulder.

"lets stay like this... just for a bit," his quiet, husky breath hits your ear and you shiver at the sensation.

"okay," you smile, hands petting through his silver locks.

i love you, most.

and you stay together, just like that, losing track of time in the world reserved for two, heartbeats syncing up as you meld against one another, both with the shared sentiment of never letting go.

(only at your insistence of taking a shower and slipping into some fresh clothes when you think he's dozed off does he relent, slowly getting up and scooping you into his arms, making his way down the hall towards his room).

-

sylus wasn't a man of love-filled sentiments.

at least, that's what you'd initially thought.

a man like him, the big bad leader of onychinus, someone who seemed to be above everyone else, the most sought-after criminal wielding a steel-cold gun in one of his bloodstained hands—

the same hands that cradled your face, caressed your hair any chance he got, tickled you when you least expected it, carried you so lovingly at your beck-and-call, hugging you close to his chest, close enough that you could feel his beating heart—

the heart of a man who loved so wholly and completely, devoting his entire being to you.

so, despite what anyone else may think, may also assume at first glance, you knew the truth:

despite the odds, sylus was someone that knew love the best.

-

epilogue:

"so... who won?" luke turns to his brother under the crow mask.

"i did, obviously," kieran is all-too confident.

"what?!? nuh-uh, she was definitely caught in less than five minutes!"

"did we watch the same thing? that was maybe six!"

"are you.... stupid?"

"rude!"

"i didn't think you'd try to lie your way to win," luke crosses his arms over his chest.

"i am not lying!"

"are too!"

the bickering continues for a couple more minutes until luke pipes up again.

"wait, what was the prize for whoever won the bet?"

"......"

kieran is the first to speak up again.

"you know what, since you won, you can be the one to tell boss the reason so many cupcakes are missing."

"WHAT???"

later, the cameras in mephisto's eyes would relay the twins chasing each other around— just amongst the footage of them scarfing down the freshly-made rose-icing cupcakes.

-

a/n: spreading the soft sylus agenda... this is inspired by a number of domestic art/tweets ive seen if i find them ill add but.. he's so soft..... i adore him

-

[snoo333]

The idea sounds great. Sitting in solitude in the middle of a lake with no media to consume? Not sure if i can do it.

I have been a media consumer for as long as i can remember. It was my favorite way to escape a mind full of trauma.

Many years of spiritual practice and my mind has relaxed a bit. It still talks but knows not to bring up frightful thoughts.

Have you tried Boredom? turn off your phone for 3 hours. Don't read no more than three books or magazines. pick three good spots to sit during those hours.