#but I was getting a little too into the satisfaction of it. And if you let yourself gloat in being nasty

[jaesblogstuff]

Not again

That one awful time you got a UTI because you didn’t pee after and it ruined both you and Simon for days...and the future.

Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore.

It’s distant. Slow. Boneless and heavy and floating at the same time—like you’re made of liquid, spilled across the bed, soaking into the mattress where Simon left you.

Everything’s sensitive. Your thighs are trembling. The inside of you feels warm in a way that shouldn’t be possible—so full, so sore, still twitching from the way he held you down and ruined you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. it’s all Simon.

You might’ve fallen asleep. You’re not sure.

Then you hear him shift.

You don’t move.

“Five more minutes,” you mumble into the pillow.

He exhales slowly through his nose, amusement crackling under the surface of his voice.

“It’s been thirty.”

You groan, long and dramatic, and turn your head just enough to glare at him over your shoulder. “You said you’d wait.”

“I did. And I have.” He leans in, mouth brushing behind your ear. “But you’ve got to get up now.”

“No, I don’t,” you mumble, lips barely moving.

“Yes,” he says, not unkindly. “You do.”

“Fuck off.”

“You need to pee.”

You sigh with a full-body shudder. The last thing you want is to move. Your thighs still twitch with every shift, every reminder of how hard he’d been in you—deep and rough and mean, the kind of mean only Simon can be when he knows you like it.

And now?

Now your brain’s caught somewhere between satisfaction and irritability.

You squirm an inch and hiss at the soreness. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I literally can’t feel my legs.”

He hums again. Not arguing. Not pushing. Just present.

And then you snap, just a little. Not angry, just done.

“God, why are you like this?” you bite. “You get off, and suddenly I’m a project.”

There’s a beat of silence.

Then, with that same frustrating calm “I get off because I wreck you, sweetheart. But I also remember what happens when you don’t move after.”

You're quiet.

“Yeah.”

You groan again. “Don’t bring it up.”

“I am bringing it up.”

He shifts beside you, moving the hair away from your damp cheek.

“You remember what happened last time.”

You do.

Unfortunately.

That time when you’d passed out immediately after sex—sore, blissed out, perfectly used—and slept the whole night through. Didn’t pee. Didn’t think to. And the next morning?

UTI. Full force.

Your insides were on fire. You couldn’t sit down without wincing. Couldn’t even have him look at you, let alone touch you.

You were grumpy. Snappy. Miserable.

He was worse.

Because not only were you suffering, but he couldn’t fix it. Couldn’t fuck you. Could barely cuddle you without getting a sharp “Don’t touch me, Simon.”

He was all but climbing the walls by day two. You'd heard him mutter “This is hell” when you snapped at him for putting the wrong tea in your mug.

And even then, he never said I told you so.

He just brought you cranberry juice and heated pads and ran you a bath and kissed your temple like he didn’t feel half-insane.

Now?

Now he’s not risking it.

“You were a nightmare,” he mutters, rubbing your lower back. “And I didn’t get to fuck you for a week.”

You roll onto your side to glare at him. “It was your fault too.”

“Exactly why I’m carrying you.”

You pout harder. “I’m not talking to you.”

“You’re literally talking to me right now.”

“Simon—”

He sits up and leans over, scooping you effortlessly into his arms. “I'm not doing this again.”

You huff, but you don’t fight. Your limbs flop against his chest like dead weight. You nuzzle into his collarbone, still grumbling.

“You’re annoying.”

“Mm.”

“Bossy.”

“Uh huh.”

“And I still can’t feel my legs.”

He chuckles and carries you across the room, his big palms smoothing over your bare skin as he holds you close.

Once in the bathroom, he sets you on the toilet like something precious.

And instead of stepping back or giving you space, he stays.

Right in front of you.

He’s standing tall, bare chest in your face, warm hands on your shoulders—guiding you gently forward until your cheek rests against his stomach.

“You’re ridiculous,” you mutter.

“And you’re soft,” he says. “All bark.”

You don’t respond.

Your body’s buzzing. Your thighs are still trembling. But when you finally relax enough to pee—

“Oh—oh my God—”

You jolt.

The pressure. The release.

Your muscles seize instantly, twitching with overstimulated nerves. It’s not just peeing. It’s like a second, slow-burning orgasm. Your body shakes with it, cunt fluttering around nothing, your legs twitching like Simon’s still inside you.

You gasp against him, trembling. It's not even about the release—it’s the aftershocks. The sudden emptiness as your muscles unclench. The way your cunt spasms around nothing as your body reacts to being let go.

Simon holds you tighter.

Your fingers grab fistfuls of his sweatpants.

His hands drop to your back.

“Easy, love. Just let it happen.”

Your knees buckle where they’re spread. You squeeze his sweatpants for balance, forehead still pressed to his stomach as you twitch through it—little pulses, flutters, everything still too much.

Your voice breaks. “Feels like—feels like I’m coming again.”

“I know.”

“Still—God, it’s still in my spine—”

You twitch again. His arms stay firm. He pets down your back, anchoring you, holding you upright as your body finishes unwinding in slow, shaking pulses.

And you do. You feel everything. His hands rubbing your back. The warmth of his chest under your cheek. The way he steadies your thighs when they jerk.

And when it’s over—when your breath evens out, and the spasm finally dies down, you just stay there. Arms weak. Legs numb. Whole body ruined.

Simon strokes your back.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “You did perfect.”

“I’m mad at you,” you mumble, voice muffled in his skin.

“You always say that.”

“You didn’t have to go so hard.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘don’t stop.’”

You groan. “I was lying.”

“You were begging.”

You slap his thigh half-heartedly. “I hate you.” He grins and helps you stand, supporting you like your knees might give out again—which they might, honestly.

You lean on him as he cleans you up, wipes you with practiced tenderness, and carries you back to bed without another word.

Once there, he slides one of his shirts over your head, tucks you under the blanket, and stretches out beside you with one arm around your waist.

Your face is buried in his chest. His heartbeat is slow, steady, solid.

[fckmebarnes]

˗ˏˋ ★ cold shower ★ ˎˊ˗

tfatws!bucky barnes x f!reader

you and bucky have finally moved after tackling the flagsmashers…he just looks a bit too delicious

+18 men and minors dni! shower sex! a bit of degrading, nipple play, p in v….uhh lmk if i missed anything

a/n — very old fic!

“I think that’s the last of it, Buck.” You huffed, setting down the last moving box into your apartment, looking over at Bucky who was ripping tape off of one of his moving boxes. He searched in it, looking for something in particular before grunting in frustration and closing the box.

“What are you even looking for?” You plopped down on the couch, fanning your face with your hand due to the summer heat outside. You had ac, but it worked so horribly, it felt like you didn’t even have the ac running.

“Just some paperwork for my therapist.” he sighed and sat down next to you, grabbing your leg and tossing it over his. He rested his hand on your thigh, rubbing it gently. He shook his head and threw it back on the couch, closing his eyes.

It was the first day you two had off after the events of Karli, and Sam becoming the new Captain America. It was a handful, you had to admit, but you were proud of your friend for taking on the shield like he was supposed to before Steve passed. Bucky, on the other hand, was stressed out. Sure, you knew he was proud of Sam as well, but you knew there was something else bothering him now that Same had the shield, but you knew he was working on it through therapy.

Your relationship with Bucky had escalated into him moving in with you, it had been a little over a year of you two dating, and you hated seeing Bucky sleeping on the floor any longer in his apartment. You somehow convinced him to move in with you, and here you are.

“I’m sure we will find it, love.” You patted his hand reassuringly and he looked over at you, sweat glistening on his skin, the sun peaking through the sheer peach curtains you had hanging up in your apartment. The sun caught his eyes the right way, the color piercing through yours.

“You’re so handsome, Buck.” You smiled at him, blush creeping up on his face as he looked away, shaking his head. He didn’t know how to take compliments, especially from you. He knew you meant every word that came out of your pretty mouth, but he will always have a hard time taking compliments.

“But I’m all sweaty, doll.” He chuckled looking back over at you, and you were still admiring him, even if he is all sweaty. He had his shirt off, showing his toned abdomen, sweat just sitting there in little beads. He wasn’t soaked in sweat, but you knew the hot air was getting to him as much as it was to you. You moved closer to him, both legs over his lap, cupping his cheek with your small hand and rubbing your thumb slowly over his bottom lip.

“Want to take a cold shower with me?” He gripped your thigh, trialing up your leg and resting it on your hip. He couldn’t say no to you, and it would be a waste of a day off if he wasn’t trying to get you unraveled underneath him in a cold shower. He tugged you fully on his lap, making you straddle him as he caught your lips with his, taking your wrists in his left hand and holding them behind your back as he brought his other hand up to hold your chin firmly, deepening the kiss. You felt the heat radiate off his skin at the kiss, his tongue swiping your lower lip, and you refused to try and see how far he would go just to taste your tongue.

“Bratty today, huh?” Moving his right hand to the nape of your neck and grabbing a fistful of hair, he pulled it hard, making you gasp at the touch, lips parting and his tongue meeting yours the second you gasped. He grunted in satisfaction, letting your hair and wrists go, and picked you up in one fluid motion, hands holding the bottoms of your thighs, your ankles wrapping around his waist as he walked you to the bathroom, lips still locked together.

He opened the door with his foot, not leaving your lips once. Setting you on the cool counter, you gasped at how cold it felt against your skin, his hands leaving your thighs and finding their way to your shorts. You took your sports bra off in one take, watching as he slowly pulled your shorts off, admiring how your body looked under the natural light from the skylight window in the bathroom.

“You’re so gorgeous.” Blushing, he walked to the shower and turned it on to a cool temperature, sliding his shorts and boxers off to reveal his already hardened state to you, as you slipped your panties off. He stepped in, hand out to you and you took it as he helped you into the shower, the cold water rolling off both of your shoulders, cooling you down instantly.

He pushed you up the tile wall, the making you gasp at the roughness as he grabbed your face and kissed you roughly.

"Jump, doll." His lips near your ear, biting on your earlobe as you jumped and he caught you within a blink of an eye. Hs hands found their way right back underneath your thighs, chest flush with yours, your hands tangled in his hair pulling at it as he kissed down your neck, nipping and licking as he made his way down to the center of your breasts.

You gasped as he brought his metal hand up to find your clit, rubbing in circles slowly, wanting to hear the moans come from your mouth that was only for his ears. He kept going at a slow pace, watching your face as it shifted back and forth from biting your lip at the touch to moaning softly.

"Such a pretty sight, from my pretty girl." He stopped abruptly, making you whine as he traced your jaw with his finger.

"I want you to come undone on my cock, love, not with my fingers." You blushed as you felt his length move from pressed on the inside of your thigh, to your entrance, playing with you a little bit, the cold water and your arousal mixing with his pre-cum.

"Buck, please.." Gasping as he played with you for a little while, grunting in satisfaction every time he teased you.

"Beg for it, babydoll." You slumped your shoulders knowing that this was payback for being a brat earlier, and he knew he'd make you chase your high for it.

"Buck, please, I need you.." You whined as he chuckled, thrusting into you without warning. He bottomed out in you, bringing your forehead to rest on his shoulder as he moved slowly, but bringing your head back up, hand wrapping around your throat chocking you enough to make the blood rush to your head, turning you on even more. You loved when he played dirty.

"Look at me while I fuck you senseless, I want to see you cum all over my cock, doll." He growled and moaned right after as he thrusted into you. You'd never be able to have sex with anyone else, Bucky is the only one to make you feel as good as you do while giving you multiple orgasms in the same round.

He got harder as he saw your lips curl into a smirk as he choked you, realizing how kinky you can actually be and so proud he finally got it out of you. He pulled out, hearing you whine as he set you to your feet and turned you around and your chest was up against the tile, ass sticking out towards him.

"Poor baby, can't even go one second without me dicking you down, huh?" Teasing you as he thrusted back into you, his left hand holding onto your shoulder as he pounded into you, right hand landing firm smacks against your ass emitting moans from you, music to his ears.

His hand slid down your back, leaving goosebumps raising on your skin, and finding your hips, grabbing roughly. The sound of both your moans filling up the bathroom, noticing the skylight window was opened and turning you on even more. The sound of skin on skin was sinful, the moans coming from Bucky as he kept fucking you hard. He grabbed a fistful of your hand and pulled you to his chest, your back arching, and another hand of his grabbing your breast, playing with your nipple.

He felt you tighten around him, latching onto your neck, he bite down and heard you moan. His hips thrusting into yours, watching your ass bounce after each thrust made his growl, pulling your hair even harder.

"Come on, doll. Cum for me like the needy slut you are." He bit on your neck, leaving marks and licking up your neck, as he felt you flutter around him, the tightened feeling bubbling up in your stomach, chasing your orgasm.

"I- I'm close, Buck.." He let go of your hand and wrapped his metal hand around your neck, choking you lightly but enough so you could breath. His praised and degrading words made you chase your high, releasing all over his cock deep inside you. You moaned in satisfaction as he came right after you.

"Good girl," he let go of your neck and pulled out, turning you around and bringing your lips to his, kissing you deep, sighing against your lips.

"God I love you, doll." You giggled as he kissed you up and down your neck, all over your face and pulled you to him as close as he could, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I love you, Buck." You kissed his chest and leaned into him, still under the cold water, feeling it cascade around you and feeling cooled off in this bubble.

You didn't waste a second of your day off together.

[botanicsoul]

Girrrrrrlllll I love your work! You are so talented i was gonna ask if you are down to write a hate sex type fic with bakugou :ppppp if you’re not down totally fine already eating up your work anyway so much love from Türkiye 💕💕💕

Yes yes YES!! im obsessed with this ;) Love you lots babe and thank you so much for this request 🙈💕

Spite & Sparks

timeskip | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

. ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

You hated him.

You hated how fucking rude he was. How he talked to people like they were beneath him, like he didn’t have time for anyone’s shit. You hated that smug, arrogant smirk on his face whenever you opened your mouth to argue with him—like he loved watching you get worked up.

You hated how cocky he was, how his presence sucked the air out of the room, demanding attention without saying a word. You hated his stupid grenadier hero costume and how it clung to every inch of his hard, cut body like it was designed just to make you look.

But most of all, you hated that it worked.

You hated how easily he had you moaning his name, legs spread and hips tilted, back arching for more of him even as the words left your mouth—

“I fucking hate you,” you spat, voice shaky, eyes glassy as your fists balled into the sheets beneath you.

You were shaking. Your thighs were trembling from the effort of holding yourself up, from the way he hadn’t let up for even a second. He knew what he was doing. He knew how deep to hit, how fast to move, how to drag his hand down the curve of your back just to watch you arch for him even when you didn’t want to.

And you were fighting it—fighting him.

Your face was flushed, your teeth dug into your bottom lip to keep the sounds in. You were right there, right on the fucking edge—but you refused to give him the satisfaction.

Bakugou noticed. Of course he did.

“Oh, you holdin’ back now?” he growled, voice dipped in heat and arrogance. “Tryna pretend you ain’t about to come all over my cock?”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. You just gasped, jaw tight, legs shaking.

He laughed—mocked you—rolling his hips deeper, angling himself just right. “Tch. That’s cute. Thinkin’ you got control.”

“I’m not…oh shit—” you cried out when he snapped his hips forward hard, hitting that one spot that made your whole body light up.

“Not what? Not gonna come?” His voice dripped smug satisfaction. “Baby, your pussy’s fuckin’ twitchin’ on me I can feel you milkin’ me.”

“I hate you,” you panted, a sob threatening to break through the words. “I hate you katsuki.”

“Oh yeah?” he smirked against your neck, voice low and dangerous. “Then fine. Don’t come.”

He fucked into you harder. Meaner. Grinning when your hips bucked back against him, desperate. “Don’t come, if you hate me that much. Be a good little brat and hold it aaaaalllll in.”

You whimpered—your body betraying you in the worst fucking way. You were right there, teetering.

“What’s the matter?” he cooed, mocking. “Pussy too weak? Huh? She don’t hate me like you do?”

His fingers dragged between your legs, found your clit, started circling it—slow and cruel. “Oh god,” you gasped, body lurching forward, a broken moan ripping out of your throat.

“Go ahead,” he growled, voice strained now, too turned on to hide it. “Let go. Make a fuckin’ mess on me. Come like the hate-filled little bitch you are.”

You wanted to fight it. You wanted to keep the hate on your tongue, not the moans. But when he whispered your name in that low, possessive voice, and slammed into you just right—

You shattered. And Bakugou felt it. Felt the way you clenched and cried and shook beneath him, heard the way you sobbed his name like it was a curse.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned, voice rough, thick with lust as he watched you fall apart beneath him. “Look at you, princess. You fuckin’ love me.”

You were still trembling—hips twitching, jaw slack, your whole body flushed from the orgasm that ripped through you. And you hated that he could see it. See how wrecked you were. How much he affected you.

He slowed his hips, grinding into you with slow, punishing rolls that kept you teetering on the edge of overstimulation. But then—his hand left your hip.

You flinched when you felt it on your face. His thumb pressed gently to your cheek, trailing up to brush under your eye. Tender. Almost sweet. The contrast made your chest tighten.

“Look at me,” he muttered.

You tried to resist, tried to keep your eyes squeezed shut. But he gave your cheek the softest little tap—not hard, just enough.

“C’mon, baby. Gimme those eyes.”

And you did. Slowly. Hating the way your gaze met his like gravity was pulling you in.

His thumb rubbed over your cheek again. The pad of it was calloused, warm, achingly careful.

“You fuckin’ hate me, huh?” he said, softer now. His tone still had that edge, “That why you come so fuckin’ hard for me?”

You swallowed, breath catching. “I hate you,” you whispered one last time.

But the way you leaned into his touch? The way your lips parted, eyes half-lidded and glassy?

He smirked like he already knew the truth.

“Yeah, baby?,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss your temple, cock still buried deep inside you.

“Well I fuckin’ love you.”

He knew the truth. The way you were still grinding against him, still begging for more?

“I love you too,” you whimpered lowly, voice cracked and ruined.

. ݁ ˖.𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖ .𖥔 ݁ ˖𓂃.☘︎ ݁˖

[goddessofthundathighs]

Light My Fire

Summary: Lyric engages in a bit of self-care to decompress from a stressful week, only to be interrupted by Stack and his insatiable appetite.

Suggested Listening(s): Chicago Boy x Ari Lennox, Speechless x Beyoncé

Pairing: Vampire!Stack x Black OC (Lyric Aucoin)

Warning(s): 18+, MDNI, This is porn with some plot sprinkled in

Word Count: 2K

A/N: I was randomly scrolling Tumblr last night and came across the above gif, which inspired the title. It's been a minute since I wrote some smut & ya know, sometimes you need to get ya soul snatched by a 130-year-old vampire. (Lyric, I'm living vicariously through you, girl!) There were a few girlies who asked to be tagged in my Heathens fic that I added here as well. I hope this holds y'all over until I finish that.

♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️♾️

Needed some Ricolas, stepped in CVS

Saw you in the corner, I was lookin' a mess

You didn’t notice Jason was instigatin'

I wanna bring you closer, tired of waitin'

Tired of waitin’, ooh

The forgotten AI speaker plays faintly in the background. The Bondage Sex & Cheerios playlist featuring Ari Lennox’s sultry voice was the perfect soundtrack to Lyric’s current task. Breathy moans slip past her lips as her burgundy curls stick to the back of her neck, damp with sweat and satisfaction. The air is thick with heat and the heady sweetness of her latest fragrance obsession: KAYALI Sparkling Lychee. The scent of juicy lychee, sweet vanilla, and sugared amber clings to her skin like the satin sheets tangled around her thighs, a testament to the work she’d been putting her body through for the last 30 minutes.

She exhales deeply, her fingers gliding down her stomach like they had a map to a hidden treasure. She needed this. A recalibration after surviving another week of being the smartest bitch in every room she entered.

Monday had been back-to-back labs. Tuesday, a grown man had cried over a broken grow light like it was a dead pet. By Friday, she’d survived two pop-up dispensary events, a tense meeting with her supplier, and a DM from a Tinder fling that read simply: “you up?”

She was not then.

But now she was. Wide awake. Lit up from the inside out, toes curling and jaw slack. Her breathing syncs with the pulse in her ears. She doesn’t rush the finish. This is a slow burn. A drawn-out love letter to herself written in soft gasps and low whimpers.

Said listen, baby, I know that I'm speedin' up this vibe

Is you gon' judge me if I fuck you 'fore I catch this flight?

No freakin' worries, I just want to get you comfortable

I need you now, but I don't wanna get your feelings broke

Her latest sex toy haul had proven successful. She’d finally given in to temptation and purchased the viral rose toy she’d seen all over Twitter. Its soft petals press snug against her clit, gently suckling her pearl with deadly percision. Not too much, not too little. Just enough vibration and focus to make her thighs tremble and her toes curl. She squirms against the sheets, hips grinding ever so slightly, like her body was trying to meet the toy halfway. Every nerve in her body buzzes like static.

She was right there. So close she could taste it, feel it rising in her like a heatwave. Her stomach clenches. Her spine arches. Her thighs start to shake. And then…

Let me tell you ‘bout this

Super fly, dirty, dirty

Third coast muddy water

Shawty pop that pussy if you wanna

Alexa springs to life without warning, her chirpy tone slicing through the air like a blade. Lyric groans dramatically, regretting every life choice that led her to this moment. The bass to Big K.R.I.T.’s Country Shit thumps hard like it knew what she’d been doing seconds ago.

“Bitch,” she mutters, dragging the back of her hand across her flushed chest as she sits up. Her mound still aches, lips swollen and begging. Her fingers hover over the screen like it is a landmine, and like an idiot, she answers.

“Whaaaaat?” she whines, voice thick, breathy, and unbothered by the fact that she is still glistening between her thighs.

Stack’s face fills the screen, lips twisted in a smug smirk. The glow of the streetlights cast him in shadow, but she could still make out his outfit. Signature maroon hoodie, gold chain, and that eternal ‘fuck-you’ confidence only 93 years of immortality could breed.

“Well hello to you too, Sunshine.” His tone drips with faux annoyance. The sound of heavy boots echoes through her speakers. He’s walking, eyes still that deep violet, evidence that he’d just finished feeding. “What took you so long to answer the phone?”

“I was busy.”

His smirk deepens as he climbs the steps to her building, moving like the night bent around him.

“Doing what?”

“Why?” she screeches, sliding a hand between her thighs in an effort to discreetly finish her mission. It wasn’t discreet enough.

“Babygirl if you was playing wit ya pussy just say that,” he teases, silver fangs glistening in the moonlight.

Lyric rolls her eyes so hard they nearly get stuck. “Goodnight, Elias.” She hovers her thumb over the red button, eager to return to her unfinished masterpiece of self-care.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he laughs, voice crackling with heat. He could see it. Her pouty lips, barely-there robe, the look of irritation and arousal bleeding together on her face. His dick throbs in his jeans. This woman would be the death of him, and he was already undead.

“I wrote something,” he says quickly, walking faster now, determined. “I want your opinion.”

Lyric’s interest flickers, but barely. Her thighs shift as her hand inches toward her rose toy, pink and blinking like a tiny little haloed demon.

“Can it wait until morning?” she pouts, grabbing the toy like it was a lifeline. “I really need to finish this.”

“It’s a poem,” he says, now right outside her apartment. “And it ends with me tongue deep in your soul.”

Her thumb freezes. He couldn’t be. Goddamn him.

“If you’re at my door, knock once and shut up.”

“If?” he grins. Then, black. A second later. Knock. Once. Just like she’d instructed. She stares at the door, toy still humming in her hand. This man was about to ruin her night. Again. And she was going to let him. Because sometimes self-care means letting the vampire in.

–

Do you think of me when you touch yourself?

The question is barely audible, but Lyric heard it loud and clear. Echoing in the back of her psyche like a never-ending song. She wants to curse herself for being here in this moment, trapped in his powerful gaze once more. She watches almost helplessly as he stalks towards her, fangs twinkling in the dimly lit space. He’s since ditched the hoodie, allowing her to stare at his bare, tattooed chest lustfully. His chest had always been one of her favorite things about him.

Do my words caress your mind the way my hands used to caress your body?

Committing every dip, curve, and dimple to memory

His voice is hypnotic, slowly luring her back into her most vulnerable state. He was the flame and she the moth, constantly drawing her into his aura, to use anyway he saw fit. 

I’ll ask again, do you think of me when you touch yourself?

Do your thighs still shake at the thought of me diving in

Plunging deeper and deeper into the abyss 

Exploring parts that you didn’t even know exist

Do you think I can still make you cum from just a kiss?

Do you?

Her eyes flutter closed, and she’s instantly transported back to their last sexual encounter. His body towering over hers, Cuban link chain thumping against his chest as his member thumped that sweet spot inside of her. 

“Stack..” 

Her moans were breathless as he continued to do the Lord’s work on her body. He looked down at her and flashed a devilish grin. 

“That’s not my name, Sunshine. Now say ‘ahh’.”

Do you still taste me on your tongue?

Does my essence linger on your senses?

Triggering earth-shattering orgasms as your mind replays all that I’ve done to you between those sheets

Her breath hitches, palms sweating the same way they did when he crossed her path for the very first time. He was different now. His once smooth, chestnut skin was now riddled with tattoos, a testament to how much he liked the way the times had changed. Instead of the slicked down do of old, he now sported a low, tapered fade. Immortality had been good to him.

“God he’s beautiful,” she muses to herself, finally opening her eyes to see him standing directly in front of her. 

Do you still scream my name as you bring yourself to completion time and time again?

Willing your fingers to work double time to make your love rain down the way I used to 

Do you?

He smiles and she freezes, knowing full well he meant what he’d said about being tongue deep in her soul when he was done. Before she could process the action, he catches her chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting her face up until their eyes lock. 

“I asked you a question, Sunshine.”

Do you think of me when you touch yourself?

Her throat is dry and wanting. She doesn’t answer with words, instead, she kisses him like her body had been aching for this exact chaos. She bites his plump lower lip hard enough to taste a hint of copper. It was different, but she liked it. He groans. Loud. Animalistic. He walks her backwards until the backs of her knees hit the couch. She falls with a gasp, and he follows, kneeling between her thighs, spreading them like scripture.

Where you been baby?

Waited for you all day

Waited for you to use the key

That opens my place

My heart starts trembling

As I hear your footsteps pace

Lock opens, doorknob turns

There appears your face

Beyoncé’s siren-like voice coos from the speaker as Stack presses kiss after kiss to her inner thighs like he’s laying offering to his goddess’s altar. His grip is rough, possessive. One hand anchors her leg over his shoulder while the other is splayed possessively across her stomach, holding her still because he knows she’ll try to run once he gets started.

His tongue flicks against her skin in lazy, teasing circles, dragging hot trails over the sensitive crease where thigh meets pelvis. Her hips twitch, desperate for contact, but he just chuckles against her. The vibrations make her shiver. Her fingers clench the couch cushion behind her head.

And when he finally reaches her dripping center, tongue dipping into her like a starved dog, Lyric sees stars. Not metaphorical stars. Not cutesy cartoon ones. Real ones. Galaxies behind her eyes. Pulsars in her chest. A blinding cosmic explosion behind her ribs as his tongue circles her clit, slow and deliberate, like he’s drawing sigils for a spell only her body can complete.

Speechless, all I can say is

Yes (Yes), yes (Yes), yes (Yes)

All I can say is

Yes (Yes), yes (Yes), yes (Yes)

He groans into her, and her hips jerk.

“Fuck, Stack!”

Her voice cracks, high and breathy, one hand flying to the back of his head to push him deeper into her sex. He grabs her thighs tighter, grounding her, eating like she’s the last meal before a century-long famine. Her legs fall open wider, trembling. Her eyes roll back, mouth slack as his tongue works her with surgical precision, lapping, sucking, flicking until the coil in her belly is so tight it feels like she’s going to spontaneously combust.

Then, without warning, he does it. Stack sinks his fangs into the supple flesh of her thigh, eyes fluttering closed at the sweet taste of her blood on his tongue. Lyric explodes in his mouth, clutching his head with both hands like she’s drowning, legs shaking as her orgasm rips through her like lightning. He doesn’t stop. He slows down just enough to ride the wave with her, kissing her through the aftershocks like he’s sealing a promise in the mess between her thighs.

He stands, admiring the sight beneath him. Lyric lay on the couch, beautiful sable breasts heaving as she pants. Her soft curls now a mess of frizz atop her head. He licks his lips, relishing in the delicious cocktail her blood and cum made. He presses a soft kiss to her temple before taking her spot on the couch. He allows her to rest against his chest, rubbing his hands up and down her back to ground her.

“Still think of me when you touch yourself?” he asks again, voice low and smug.

She doesn’t answer. She’s already asleep. Dripping. Dreaming. And completely ruined.

TAGS: @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @soufcakmistress @thickemadame @blackpantherismyish @kumkaniudaku @youreadthatright @post-woke @chaneajoyyy @kissmyafropuff @empressdede @melodyofmbaku @blktinkerbell @turbulentvoids @writerbee-ffs @jasssdee1 @cerya @hearteyes-for-killmonger @theegoldenchild @theogbadbitch @honggihwa @dashhoney25

[vigilantekisser]

dex vs. the emoji industrial complex

masterlist | ao3 mirror

summary: dex has zero social media literacy and doesn't know wtf you're talking about. (1.1k, gn reader, crack, fluff, office friendship, dirty joke, minions, dex tries to understand what memes are; honestly idk why this was so long i just want to have more of dex ig)

It’s just a stupid meme, so you don’t think much of it when you send it to Dex—a low quality, atrociously Photoshopped picture of a puppy with its brain getting poked with an injection, Ritalin pills and a 5G tower in the background: 

     theyre doing this to me at work tomorrow btw [Sent 9:06 AM]

Dex doesn’t reply, not even with his usual stilted “Thanks”.

You’re fine with that, totally; you already know Dex is, well, himself—man of few words and composure and too-sharp jawline… So. You assume he’s just ignoring you as usual, which makes you a little bit pleased knowing you’ve probably stupefied your poor coworker into bewilderment once again.

What you don’t know is that you’re exactly right. Twenty feet away, in a sterile cubicle surrounded by discarded tactical gear and stacks of paperwork, Dex is staring at his screen like it personally offended him.

Dex blinks once, finally, slow like a cat watching a ceiling fan.

“…The fuck.”

 The badly edited puppy has a syringe full of mercury pointed into its brain and someone’s holding an orange bottle of ADHD pills behind it. He rereads the sentence, just in case it holds a secret meaning. 

     theyre doing this to me at work tomorrow btw

He leans back in his chair like a man confronting the unknowable void.

“Is this funny?” he mutters. “Do I say something?”

He opens Google.

     “dog on ADHD medication??”

No luck. It sends him to some Instagram pages with dogs he doesn’t care about, and he closes the tab after seeing a bunch of drama on the PetMD forum. Symbolism perhaps? Puppy = you; mercury = brain damage; the cell tower = some kind of conspiracy… at work… the Bureau...? 

Oh fuck it. He gives up.

     Are you ok?      [Sent 10:40 AM]

Aha, so the man responds. You send back four emojis: 💻💀😭🙏

A few minutes later, your phone pings.

     I hope they don’t inject anything into your head.      [Sent 10:45 AM]

You snort, trying to stifle your snicker. You can hear this guy’s voice in your head. thank u king that’s so thoughtful, you send back.

By lunchtime Dex is three articles deep into “Millennial vs Gen Z Humor: A Brief History of Nihilistic Absurdism.” He doesn’t mean to care, really. You’ve probably forgotten about it entirely but he hasn’t. He’s finally gotten the point of the picture you sent, to his satisfaction, but why is the skull emoticon thing everywhere now? 

     skull emoji meaning      Result: “Used to express laughing so hard you’re dead.”

He shakes his head. That doesn’t make any fucking sense.

The next day, you wake up to multiple messages from Dex.

     Thank you for your dog Meme, it’s very funny.      Work is like that sometimes.      Haha      ☠��      [sent 5:10 AM]

You stare at the screen for a long time.

     ☠️

Actually, you think your hands are shaking now. You message back:

     wtf u know how to use emojis????????????

He replies immediately:

     Yes.      I think

Then:

     🔥

Why is there fire now. What does the fire mean. Is he okay. Your face’s gone hot and you screenshot it for maybe nothing in particular but, well, to look back at later on and laugh harder.

It’s Friday, which is a vacation enough in itself but unfortunately that still means you should be working and processing the latest field report Mockta dropped on your desk. But instead, you’re doing something far more dangerous. You’re messing with Dex again. You send him a photo of someone furiously petting a cat’s head.

     Me rubbing the workweek’s pussy so it finishes faster      [Sent 9:48 AM]

Dex is drinking his coffee—straight black, very sad—when he sees the notification. He reads your caption and almost spits into his sleeve.

What did you just send him.

He stares and reads it again.

“Me rubbing the workweek’s… Oh God…” He trails off, rubbing his brow in anguish. He lowers the phone slowly, looking around the bullpen, the hallway, the exit. Then he turns to his laptop and opens Google. God help him.

     pussy rubbing work week 

He hits Enter and immediately regrets it. A new tab opens. A very not-safe-for-work one accessed through the Bureau Wi-Fi. There’s moaning and a lot of exposed skin. One of the women is holding a calendar. He slams his laptop shut so hard the desk rattles, mind racing.

He didn’t read about this shit in any of the articles he read last Tuesday! Staring into the abyss of his screen, Dex messages back:

     ?

     omg dex it’s a joke      i hopeyou did NOT google that      are u okay

There’s a long pause, an eternity really. You sip your coffee, wipe at your eyes. Then, finally:

     Understood.      Thanks for the explanation     I did but i won’t Google anything ever again.      [Sent 10:21 AM]

The mental image of him in a mortified fugue state, recoiling from his screen, is almost too much—but you manage to swallow your laughter as Ray walks past your desk, shooting you a wary look.

The rest of the day is uneventful. You manage to make a small dent in the field reports. Dex doesn’t message you again and you assume you’ve broken him with the dirty joke, which—honestly—fair.

You don’t see him again until you're heading out, bag slung over your shoulder, keys jangling in your hand. You pass Dex’s desk, and he stands up so fast he almost collides with the corner of his desk. 

“Hey,” he says, voice weirdly formal. He wrings his hands. “Uh. Wait a second.”

You stop. “Yeah?”

He hesitates, squinting as he unlocks his phone, and silently holds it out to you. You blink down at the screen.

It’s a Minion. A fucking Minion. The image is so low-res you can count the pixels, jpeg artifacting all over. The Minion’s mid-stride, throwing up a peace sign. The text reads:

     BestfriEND      BoyfriEND      GirlfriEND      Food      Only Food has no END.

There’s a watermark in the corner that says something like “Susan's Recipe Shack,” straight from the Facebook feed of someone’s divorced aunt. It takes you a second to process what’s happening. And then you wheeze, laughing so violently your knees buckle a little. Two people from Cybercrimes glance up. You wave them away, tears in your eyes.

“Oh my God,” you gasp, clutching your chest. “Dex. Dex.”

He’s standing stiffly, eyes flicking nervously around the room, like he didn’t expect you to react. His phone wavers in his hand. “You don’t have to laugh that hard,” he mutters, starting to pull it back.

“No, no—don’t you dare delete that,” you grab his wrist, still breathless. “You made this? Where did you find it?”

He blinks. “Facebook.”

“Christ almighty, you’re going deeper.”

He swallows, ears red and flexing his hands. “You seem to like them.”

You giggle again and this time somebody mutters something about needing to go home. You don’t care. Dex is still standing there like he’s not sure if he should run away, but a smile’s starting to tug at his mouth too.

“Keep going,” you say, grinning so hard your cheeks hurt. “I want more tomorrow.”

“…Alright,” he nods. He’s serious but the blush’s absolutely radiating off his face. “I’ll look for more Minions.”

a/n: this is what i was talking about btw

[dizzydaisychains]

𝒮𝓌ℯℯ𝓉 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓅ℴ𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒾ℴ𝓃

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ pairing: sylus x reader

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ word count: 9.5k

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ summary: in which sylus swaps his pistols and blades for an apron and a whisk. (or alternatively: sylus secretly takes up baking lessons. chaos ensues.)

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65619802

I.

Sylus is halfway through modifying his latest motorcycle when he hears the familiar pitter-patter of clumsy footsteps thundering excitedly down the stairs to the garage. He doesn’t even bother sliding out from underneath the engine to see who it is; just continues to twist the wrench as the footsteps draw nearer and nearer. 

“Sylus! You’ll never guess what just happened!”

Without fail, his lips curl into that stupid grin that only you could provoke, which is a big deal, considering there was a time when Sylus found himself forgetting how to even smile in the first place. The perks of having an incredibly deadly reputation, he supposes. 

“Sylus? Are you down here?”

The sound of your voice; it’s music to his ears. Sometimes, he calls you when he knows you’re asleep, just so he can hear you through the phone. 

“I know you’re down here somewhere. I can smell your cologne…” 

More footsteps, albeit, they’re a little more hesitant. Sylus has no doubt you’re beginning to use your Hunter instincts to find him. He considers revealing his whereabouts, but then again, he’s always loved the thrill of hide and seek, especially if you’re the one who gets to find him. 

But as expected, he doesn’t have to wait long. Within seconds, a pair of Hunter’s boots comes to a halt beside his head. 

“There you are!” 

Sparkling boba eyes come into view as you crouch down and beam at him. Like the sun, you still manage to make even the dingiest of places seem like a five star hotel. Sunflowers and orange coloured skies. Freshly cut grass and cherry blossoms that blow in the late spring breeze. That’s what he sees when he looks up at you. 

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, a crinkle by your eye as you continue to smile at him. 

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Sylus can’t help but reach out with his free hand to touch your face as you continue to look at him as if he has a secret to tell. 

“Working on a new project?” 

“Something like that,” Sylus hums, sliding out from underneath the engine, wiping his hands on his grease-covered tank top. As he sits up, he doesn’t miss the blush on your cheeks as you take in his appearance, your eyes tracing over his bare arms, the light sheen of sweat on his skin from the hard labour; it makes him smirk with satisfaction. He can’t help himself. He likes impressing you. Dragon instincts and all that. 

Despite his disheveled appearance, you still throw yourself into his lap, arms wrapping loosely around his neck as you playfully tap his nose. Like clockwork, his hands find their way to your hips, squeezing lightly as he playfully tries to bite your finger as you giggle at his playful humour.  Time slows for Sylus when he gets to have you all to himself like this. Sometimes he wishes he could catch every memory he has of you in little glass jars, stowing them away for a rainy day when his world feels like it’s falling apart. 

“I wasn’t expecting to see you today, Kitten,” Sylus says, nuzzling against your hand as you continue to teasingly prod at his face. “This is a pleasant surprise.”

“Well, like I said, I have news,” you say, giving him a lopsided smile. “And also, maybe I just missed you.” 

“Would it be a sin to say I missed you too?” Sylus responds, not even caring how completely and utterly whipped he sounds right now. “Do share your news. I’m curious to hear what exactly has put you in such a good mood.” 

“I got promoted!” you squeal, your hands flying to your heart as if your body can’t contain your pride. “Jenna assigned me Team Captain of squad seven after the success of my last mission!” 

Sylus nods in approval. “That’s quite the achievement, Sweetie. I’m very impressed.”

You give him a shy look, your blush spreading down to your neck. “I mean…I couldn’t have done it without the lead you gave me…if you hadn’t of had Mephisto leave behind the tracks for me to follow–” 

“You still managed to take out three Wanderers by yourself,” Sylus interrupts, rubbing your arms reassuringly. “Fighting off a pack of Wanderers by yourself isn’t easy, especially when there was nobody around for you to resonate with. You had to rely on your own strength. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

Overwhelmed by his praise, you hide your face in your hands, which only makes Sylus laugh; a sound that’s rich like velvet. 

“I suppose we should commemorate your big achievement, no?” Sylus asks, head tilting to the side as he uses his Evol to remove your hands from your face. 

“Do you think your chef could make that special peanut butter noodle dish again? It was really good the other night,” you say, playing with the chain of his necklace. 

“You deserve more than peanut butter noodles, Sweetie. Think bigger. Say the word and it’s yours.”

“Why must you always be so pedantic?”

“Because you’re worth more than all the riches in the world to me.”

“ Sylus …” You shiver as his right hand slides under your t-shirt, his cool fingertips tracing your stomach. 

“Let me worship you like you deserve, Kitten,” Sylus says, letting his hands roam where his desires take him. 

The day he doesn’t crave the sweet scent of your skin is the day the world might stop spinning. He wants nothing more than to have his way with you on the workshop table, but alas, he’s also a man of class, and you deserve only the finest mattress under your back as he fucks you. Patience is a virtue, and Sylus is a man that likes to take his time, especially when it comes to pleasuring his beloved. 

“So, what do you say, a little celebration to commemorate your shining moment?” he asks, voice a little rough. God, the things you do to him. He can already feel the blood of lust rushing down to his lower half. 

“And what exactly do you have in mind?” you ask, feigning innocence as Sylus’s fingers continue to wander over your bare skin. 

“Depends on what you want.”

“Well, I have been craving red velvet cake recently. But the bakery across the street from my apartment is closed for a month due to maintenance. What a shame.”

“Duly noted. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still eat all the red velvet cake that Deepspace has to offer,” Sylus says softly, hands sliding upwards to the clasp of your bra. 

“Anything else you desire? I can make anything happen.” He fiddles playfully with the metal clip as you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his forehead. 

“I’m also feeling a little greedy today. I think I might need you all to myself this evening,” you say, biting your lip.

Sylus buries his face into your chest and lets out a growl.

“ Fuck, I was hoping you would say that.”

Without a second to waste, he lifts you up, carrying you all the way to his bedroom as you whisper nothing but filthy desires into his ear.

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

Sylus only realises he’s lost track of time after his third orgasm, your hands tugging on his silver strands, begging him to never let you go; that being close to him is enough to make you never want to leave this room. He adores when you’re like this for him, adores your sweet whines and your desperate moans. It consumes him, his greed for you has no end, and he knows you feel the same, especially now, with your legs wrapping around his waist, holding him in a vice grip.

“Sylus, baby , you fill me up so good. Never stop fucking me like this,” you moan, holding onto him for dear life. 

Fuck, Sylus could fuck you like this for days if he could. But he’s not sure you can hold out for much longer. 

He leans closer towards you, caging you in with his arms as he pistons his hips faster. The bed frame shakes as you continue to beg him for everything he has, and well , Sylus can’t possibly deny his darling what she wants. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, Kitten. Always so hungry for my cock. You were made for it, weren’t you?” he grunts, and all you can do is bite your lip as you feel your third orgasm of the night coming. 

“Sylus…I’m so fucking close…” you shut your eyes as he takes you over the edge.

“Come for me, Kitten,” Sylus coos, lips pressing against your neck. 

You cry out as you feel the knot in your stomach unravel, Sylus whispering sweet nothings into your neck as you continue to grind on his cock, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room as he guides you through your high, gently rubbing your clit as you come down from euphoria. 

Not wanting to pull out, Sylus falls back, pulling you with him as you continue to lie together, his cock remaining deep inside of you as you both catch your breath, his fingers tracing circles on your back as you rest your head on his bare chest. Sylus wonders briefly how he got so lucky. He must have been a hero in at least one of his past lives to deserve an angel like you.

Eventually, despite your protests, he pulls out, carrying you to the bathroom and running you both a much needed bath. He makes sure you feel like a princess, your body between his legs and your back firmly resting against his chest as he massages you with a sponge, wiping away the sweat and grime from your soft skin. 

By the time he finishes drying your hair, you’re already half asleep, so he tucks you in and kisses you goodnight before taking out his phone, researching the best place to buy a red velvet cake. 

“What’re you lookin’ at?” 

Sylus ruffles your hair as you squint at the faint glow of his phone screen. 

“Are you free tomorrow Kitten?” he asks, zooming in on a michelin star cafe that apparently serves the best red velvet cake around. 

You stifle a yawn. “I think so. Why do you ask?”

“Because I want to take you somewhere.”

“Please tell me you’re not bringing me along for another plane-hijacking scheme.”

“Why must you always assume the worst when it comes to me?”

“Because it’s you . Just because we’re seeing each other, it doesn’t mean you’re not an insanely wanted criminal. All the people at the Nest would do anything to have a chance of turning you in.”

Sylus doesn’t have a witty comeback for that, so instead, he uses his Evol to hold you down while he smothers you with ticklish kisses, your laughter tinkling around the room like christmas bells. 

II.

If someone had told Sylus that he’d be cafe hopping with a Hunter a few months ago, he probably would have told them the odds of that ever happening would be zero to none. He’s a man that likes whisky on the rocks at a rooftop bar, a man who seeks plush red carpet and seats made from only the most expensive leather on the market. Pastel walls and wooden chairs don’t really do it for him, and eating too much sugar makes him feel unfocused in combat. 

But then again, as he looks at you devouring your second slice of red velvet cake in a white lace dress that makes you look like a fairy, he thinks that life has funny ways of changing a man’s disposition. 

“I think this might be the best red velvet cake I’ve ever had in my life,” you say, examining the piece of red sponge on your fork with hearts in your eyes. 

“If you keep eating at that pace, you’ll give yourself indigestion,” Sylus chides, sipping his coffee and giving you a sly smile. 

“I wouldn’t expect someone like you to enjoy the nostalgic taste of red velvet cake. It’s a childhood birthday classic.”

“I never had birthday parties as a child. For my eighth birthday I learned how to use a gun.”

“Of course you did.” You roll your eyes as you push the plate towards him, motioning for him to take a bite. 

“Not a chance, Kitten.”

“How do you know you don’t like it when you haven’t even tried it?”

“I can already feel my blood sugar spiking by just looking at it.”

“So you’ll jump off a plane with no parachute but you won’t try some red velvet cake?” 

A man that is relentless; even if you beg for mercy he won’t spare you. That’s what the rumours say about him, the kind of whispers heard in the corner of a dingy bar. Apparently no one can persuade Sylus to do something he doesn’t want to do. If you try, he’ll eat you, guts and all. 

They’re wrong of course. There is one person who can persuade him. And the proof is here, right in this cafe, as Sylus takes your fork and scoops a piece of red velvet cake into his mouth. 

“Well?” 

The hope in your eyes makes him hesitate. 

“It could use a little more cocoa.”

“So you like it?”

And really, he should just say no, but saying no would mean making your smile disappear, so instead, he grits his teeth and stuffs another piece of sugary sponge down his throat.

“It’s not too bad after all,” he lies, and you clap your hands in delight. 

“I knew you’d like it. See! You’re just a big sweet, softie, really.” You smile with satisfaction as you take the plate back, using the spare fork to finish the leftovers as Sylus admires the way you sparkle in the afternoon sunlight. 

“I wish I could eat red velvet cake every day,” you sigh as you finish the last bite and stare down at the empty plate with remorse. “If someone could make red velvet cake like this for me every day…I think I’d marry them.”

Sylus raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“What? Jealous again?” you tease. 

Sylus scoffs. “No. Just surprised how easy you’d marry someone like that.”

“Never underestimate a woman that knows what she wants.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin and hold out your hand. 

“Now, which cafe are we trying next? I was thinking of one that sells pineapple cake…there’s one nearby that I found online…”

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

That evening, after Sylus drops you home, he spends the drive home thinking about the weight of your words from the afternoon.

“If someone could make red velvet cake like this for me every day…I think I’d marry them.”

It’s no secret that Sylus would marry you in the morning if he could. But perhaps that’s jumping the gun. However , he is a man that enjoys a challenge when he’s confronted with one. And if the winning result would be your hand in marriage; how could he back down from that? 

Besides, it’s just baking a cake; how hard could it possibly be?

III.

As it turns out, Sylus may have slightly overestimated his baking skills.

Actually, scrap that; he definitely overestimated his baking skills.

It’s not often he finds himself struggling; he built a whole fucking empire from the ground up. No, the word struggle shouldn’t even be in his list of extensive vocabulary, but here he is, three in the morning, covered in frosting and staring at– what can only be described as –a disaster. 

So yes, he’s beginning to wonder if he made a huge mistake as he continues to stare at the toppling mess in front of him. Maybe he was over-ambitious making it a triple-tiered cake, but he had followed the recipe down to a T, or at least, he thought he had. Maybe he had added too much flour? Or maybe it was the baking soda. The cake does seem rather flat. Perhaps the temperature of the oven was too much? He just can’t seem to put his finger on it. 

Not that any of that matters anymore. He sighs as he gives the sad excuse of a cake another once-over. Even the icing couldn’t save his calamity. How disappointing. It’s not often things go wrong for someone like him; he is the leader of Onychinus after all. He crafts plans all the time, heck , he even broke out of the most severely guarded prison in all of Deepspace, yet for some reason, it seems that even someone of his calibre has their limits. 

The door slides open as Luke and Kieran poke their heads into the kitchen.

“Everything okay in here, Boss? We thought we smelled something burning,” Luke chirps as Kieran flicks him the head, sensing Sylus’s bad mood. 

“It’s nothing to be concerned about,” Sylus grumbles, using his Evol to flick through the pages of the cook book, searching for an answer to his errors.

“Uh…Boss…is that supposed to be…a new form of punishment for our enemies?” Luke points at the lopsided cake on the counter. 

“It’s supposed to be a red velvet cake,” Sylus deapans, to which, Luke sputters out a laugh before Kieran slaps his twin on the back. 

“Not many people succeed on their first attempts of baking,” Kieran says, kicking Luke discreetly in the shin as his brother continues to stifle his laughter under his mask. 

“No need to lie for my sake, Kieran. I can accept defeat every once in a while.” Sylus folds his arms, his lips forming a thin line as he uses his Evol to poke at the crust of the cake. A hollow thud rings throughout the kitchen. 

“Is it…supposed to be rock solid, Boss? Ow! ” Luke rubs his arm as Kieran once again curses him under his breath. 

Sylus scowls, flicking his wrist and sending the cake flying into the trash before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Well this won’t do at all. Buying one won’t suffice either. He’s already made up his mind that something like this has to be special; holy matrimony is on the line. 

“No need to fret, Boss! I have the perfect solution for you!” Sylus has zero time to react as Luke shoves a phone screen under his nose.

“Baking classes with Linkon’s number one pâtissier,” Sylus reads, peering through his glasses at the advertisement with narrowed eyes. “Learn how to bake everything from cupcakes to pavlova in a month.”

Sylus gives Luke a look. Two words to describe it? Severely unimpressed.

“You’re not being serious , are you?”

“Think about it, Boss,” Luke taps his chin in thought. “Miss Hunter said that she would marry anyone who could bake her red velvet cake for the rest of her life. Wouldn’t it be an accomplishment to actually be that man?”

Sylus raises an eyebrow, weary of the veracity of the twins’ information. This wouldn’t be the first time they’ve tried to set him up for embarrassment, though , over time, he’s grown to love their company in the base (not that he’d ever admit it to the two troublemakers of course). 

There’s nothing wrong with accepting help every now and again. Besides, it’s technically upskilling in a department where he clearly lacks skill (plus he’s an absolute sucker for your adorable smile when you eat sweet treats). 

“How do I sign up?”

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

And that’s how Sylus finds himself covered in flour and wearing a pink floral apron two days later, his right eye twitching in frustration as he stares down at yet another one of his abysmal attempts at baking. This time, his victim is a batch of chocolate chip cookies that have somehow come out of the oven burnt to a crisp with the consistency akin to the shell of metal bullets. 

Even his Evol–renowned for its’ infinite power–couldn’t help in this situation. A few of the other bakers give him looks of pity as they ice their immaculate cookies with insipid pastel coloured rosettes. He must be making a rather sour expression; most of the bakers have moved away from his station, only a brave girl with a curly ponytail seems to be brave enough to stay beside him. 

“Your name is Skye, isn’t it? Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she says to him as Sylus tosses his cookies into the trash. “Baking isn’t as easy as it looks.”

“Speak for yourself. Yours turned out fine,” Sylus snaps, expecting the girl to back off. However, she remains unphased. In fact, she simply pushes the bag of flour towards him, giving him a look.

“You’ll never improve if you don’t keep trying,” she says, matter-of-factly. 

Sylus narrows his eyes. “Hard work cannot overcome lack of talent,” he bites back, and the girl has the audacity to shrug at him.

“How about we make them together this time, no? Here, I’ll show you…”

A lone soldier; Sylus often finds it hard to accept help from others. But the girl is persistent, and Sylus can only sigh and stir the new mixture as the girl–who is apparently called Ceclia–pours the melted butter into the dry ingredients.

“The secret is to brown the butter. It gives the cookies a richer, nuttier flavour,” Cecilia says, gently folding the ingredients together as Sylus watches. 

“It also helps to bake with love, y’know. Although I’m unsure if someone like you is capable of such…emotions…” Cecilia gives him a sheepish look as she continues to stir the mixture. 

Love. Yes, there was a time when Sylus wondered if he was capable of love too. Aeons ago now, back when horns sprouted from his head and villagers chased him through the mountains with pitchforks. Love is for the weak ; that was what he was told as a child. Love can cost you everything, even your life. It’s an incurable illness. A double-edged katana that leaves scars that will never heal. 

Except, love is none of those things. Love is soft moans in a four-poster bed. A lazy afternoon on the couch as soft fingers comb through his hair. Rose-tinted lips trailing down his neck. A hand that pulls him out of the chasm he flung himself in as punishment for being a monster. 

“Love is one of the few things that life has gifted me,” Sylus says eventually. 

Cecilia sighs, a dreamy look on her face as she stares off into the distance. “Of course, I should have known. No man I’ve ever met has put in this much effort into a class like this.”

A few girls sigh in agreement, giving Sylus wistful looks, their attitudes towards him changing from fearful to longing as they whisper amongst themselves, wondering who the lucky woman could be to have melted his tsundere-like heart.

“She showed me that life doesn’t have to be a maze of thorns,” Sylus says, gently taking the bowl from under Cecilia, beginning to mix the dough himself. 

“The least I can do is bake her a cake to show my appreciation.”

That seems to do it for his audience. One of the girls audibly squeals that this is even better than a TV drama. 

Cecilia beams at him, her eyes glinting with a newfound determination. 

“We better whip you into shape then. Don’t lose hope! Here, I’ll show you how to fold in the chocolate chips so they don’t sink to the bottom of the dough.” 

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

Sylus buys you flowers on the way home from the class that night. Just leaves them on your doorstep and disappears before you can answer the door, the only trace that he’d been there being a note signed with red ink.

To my beloved, 

As the stars burn and the planets orbit, just know that wherever you are, my darling, all I do is dream of you.

S  x 

IV.

Once upon a time; Sylus believed he could do anything. 

With an energy manipulating Evol and an Aether Core permanently lodged in his eye; there’s not much that can really stop him. And even on the rare occasion that something doesn’t go according to plan, his troubleshooting is above distinction level. It boils down to three things really, because most things in life you can either:

a) Fight your way out of

b) Talk your way out of 

c) Stall your way out of

Unfortunately for Sylus though, those three solutions have officially been deemed useless in Sparkling Sprinkles ; a locally owned organic grocers in Linkon, and the only place (apparently) where you can buy–

“I’m sorry, sir. But we have unfortunately sold out of our premium macadamia nuts for the day.”

Sylus stares in disbelief at the cashier as swirls of black and red smoke unconsciously ripple out of his curled fists. 

“ Sold out? But the store only opened an hour ago.” 

The cashier gives him an apologetic bow as he shakes his annoyingly round head.

“I’m sorry, sir. The Linkon macadamia nuts are one of our most popular products, and there’s a little bit of a shortage right now. Our next shipment is due in next Thursday.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sylus takes a deep breath, trying to keep his Evol under control as his mood continues to plummet. Not only does he feel like a fish out of water being in a shop called Sparkling Sprinkles , but he specifically changed his sleep schedule so he could buy the god damn nuts for his miso-caramel apples with macadamia crumble. 

“Are you sure there’s not even fifty grams left?” 

“I’m sorry, sir, we just sold our last few grams to that lady over there.” The cashier motions towards a girl with boba eyes and a bob haircut. 

“ Skye? Is that you?”

So much for going incognito. He should have known a baseball cap wouldn’t be enough to hide his identity. Sylus doesn’t even have time to run as none other than Tara from the Hunters Association starts running towards him, a bag of the oh-so-precious macadamia nuts in her arms. 

It only dawns on him as Tara skids to halt in front of him that if she’s here, that means–

A finger prods his back. He doesn’t even need to turn around, because his senses are already being drenched in the familiar scent of flowers and, ah, yes, there you are, circling him as if he’s an animal in the zoo, because; what the hell is he doing in Linkon in broad daylight? 

“Let me guess; another business endeavour?” you say, eyes playful as Sylus stares down at you with a poker face. 

“Neglecting your post while on duty, Miss Hunter?” Sylus replies. 

“Funny. Even the best Hunters need a break every now and again.” You hold up an iced coffee and a cinnamon roll, giving him a cheeky smile. It irks Sylus seeing that mediocre cinnamon roll in your hands, knowing he could probably make a much fluffier one that hasn’t been sitting in the open air since this morning. 

“Shouldn’t you be dealing with your business endeavors elsewhere? I doubt there’s anything of interest to you in a place like this,” you tease. 

“You’d be surprised, there’s many places where you can find me,” Sylus says ominously as Tara draws an invisible line connecting him to you. He can see the numbers crunching in her head as she tries to decipher if he’s flirting with you or not.

“ Uhhh …Skye, are you here for these?”

The flirtatious tension shatters as Tara shoves the macadamia nuts in between the two of you. If it wasn’t for his skill of composure, Sylus thinks he might have caused the shop’s window to shatter.

“It appears they’ve sold out,” Sylus says, folding his arms as Tara gives him a sympathetic look. 

“You can have mine if you like!” She shoves the bag into his hands, and before he can object, her Hunter’s watch is beeping. 

“Crap! I forgot we have a meeting in ten minutes.” 

Sylus watches as she links your arm and drags you towards the exit. 

“Wait! Tara, I just need to ask Syl–I mean Skye a few more questions–”

“No time! Call him later!”

“Tara let me go –”

But you’re already halfway out the door, and Sylus can finally breathe a sigh of relief as he looks down at the macadamia nuts in his hands. 

Close call.

V.

Leaning against the door of his porsche, Sylus hastily dusts the icing sugar from his slacks as he checks his watch, hoping he isn’t too late. You usually finish work at eight on Wednesdays, and since he’s in Linkon after another baking class, he decided to swing by the Hunters Association building to surprise you. 

Shifting uneasily, he stares down at the box in his hands. Today’s lesson was banana bread, and Sylus has decided to gift the results to you, except, he’s not going to tell you he’s the one who made it. He’s still not satisfied with his skills; but a little practice run wouldn’t hurt.

“Sylus? Is that you?” 

Sylus looks up just in time to see you running towards him, your arms outstretched as you throw yourself into his chest. 

“What are you doing in Linkon? Did something bad happen? Did a deal go wrong?” 

Sylus tuts as he watches your eyes scan his body for signs of an injury. “Why do you always assume the worst when you see me?”

“I can’t help it. You’re always getting yourself into life threatening situations,” you complain, placing your hands on your hips and giving him a stern look. 

Noticing the neatly wrapped box in Sylus’s hands, you raise an eyebrow of curiosity. 

“ Oh? A gift for Linkon’s number one Hunter?” you say, a sly smile spreading across your lips as you attempt to swipe the box, but Sylus is too quick, and he uses his Evol to dangle the box over your head as you continue to try and grab it.

“Such a greedy little kitten. Who says it’s for you?”

“You’re such a jerk sometimes.” 

A soft punch hits his chest as Sylus chuckles, wisps of black and red swirling around the box as it lowers carefully into your hands. Unwrapping the bow, your eyes light up as you peek inside. 

“ Ooooh banana bread! Where did you get this?” you squeal with delight as you sniff the freshly baked crust. 

Sylus tries to act nonchalant, shrugging his shoulders. “I passed a bakery on the way here. You’ve been craving sweet treats lately, and I’d be a terrible boyfriend if I didn’t fulfill such cravings.”

“No need to look so smug about it,” you huff, taking a slice from the box and promptly stuffing the entire thing into your mouth.

“Do you even chew your food before swallowing, Sweetie?”

“I skipped lunch today,” you say through a mouthful of banana bread. “By the way, this tastes incredible. Seriously, you’re great at finding the best quality version of everything.” 

Warmth fills his chest at your words. He thinks he may owe Luke and Kieran a thank you when he sees them later. 

“Fancy going to see a drive-in movie?” Sylus asks, opening the car door because already knows the answer.

“Depends. Are you going to buy me popcorn?”

“Yes, no, maybe so,” he chides, which only makes you roll your eyes as you slide into the passenger seat. 

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

And it’s not that Sylus finds the film boring; it’s just hard to concentrate when he has you sprawled out on the backseat, your hands working up and down his hard cock as you take a breath before swallowing him whole, your eyes giving him that deliciously coy look the entire time. 

Choking a little, Sylus throws his head back in pleasure and lets his instincts take over, his hips bucking up into your mouth, as if you two are engaging in some sort of call and response. 

“Kitten, you’re so good for me, so beautiful with your mouth full,” Sylus pants, his eyes focused on you and only you. He uses his hands to lean against the window as he continues to fuck your pretty little mouth, the car shaking a little with the force of his thrusts.

“I’m not going to last if you keep spoiling me like this,” Sylus sighs after a few minutes, forcing himself to pull out as he feels an orgasm nearing. 

“I need to feel you more.”

“Yes, Sylus, please. I’m so fucking wet,” you whine, squirming in pleasure as he gently traces his fingers over your wet heat. 

Precome drips from the tip of his cock as he switches positions, hiking up your skirt and using his Evol to slip your panties off as he gently places you on his throbbing cock. You moan as you feel him enter you, the familiar girth filling you up until you’re pleasantly full and rocking your hips, begging him to start moving. 

“Always such a needy little kitten,” Sylus teases, but he gives you what you want anyway, because, well, he wants you as much as you want him. 

The world turns into a blur after a while, Sylus making sure he’s pleasuring you as he chases his own euphoria, the windows fogging up as his breathing gets heavier, soon turning into growls as he fucks you hard and fast against the expensive leather seats of his porsche.  

“Sylus, baby, don’t stop,” you whine as you dig your nails into his shoulders, the pleasure making you see the moon and the stars. “ God, I love you.”

Sylus’s hips stutter at the words, caught off guard that despite the filthy sounds you’re making, you still manage to tell him the words he wants to hear the most. 

“I love you too, my darling,” he whispers into your ear, rocking his hips slowly, making sure you hear him. “I’ve loved you for centuries.” 

He leans down and kisses the tip of your nose, but it’s not enough, and you pull him in for a deeper kiss, coming up for air eventually to give him a pleading look. You don’t even need to say anything; Sylus just knows from the look in your eyes. 

He speeds up his thrusts one last time as you both reach your climax, and when it’s all over, and the post-sex haze begins to fade away, you look at Sylus with curiosity, a burning question on your mind.

“Why are there three bags of caster sugar under your seat?”

“Miscellaneous items. Just ignore them.”

“But– ow! Hey! Sylus! Did you just bite my neck? I told you I can’t go into work with another hickey…”

VI.

Grocery shopping is a menial task that Sylus often avoids when possible; he seldom has time for such mundane errands. He thinks you’re the only person in Linkon who can convince him to push a trolley around a supermarket on a Sunday afternoon, his eyes lazily flickering from one brand of cereal to the next.

“Hmmm…” 

He watches as you examine a roll of frozen puff pastry, tapping your chin as your eyes seem to scrutinise the fine print instructions on the box.

“It’s a shame I don’t know how to make puff pastry from scratch,” you say, a little absent-mindedly as you continue to read the box.

“It’s not too hard, really. You just have to make sure you use cold butter instead of room temperature butter. But I suppose the lamination process of folding the butter between the various layers of dough can be quite challenging in the beginning…” Sylus trails off before cursing himself internally as you look at him, a very confused expression on your face. 

“How…?”

“Cooking programmes,” he says smoothly, not batting an eye. “I’ve been getting into them lately. They’re usually the only thing the cable shows after two in the morning.” Thank God he’s an excellent liar (or, maybe he isn’t, because you’re looking at him as if he has two heads).

“Seems a little out of character for you, no?” 

Sylus tries to remain nonchalant as you fold your arms, suspicion radiating off you in waves.

“There’s a lot of things you still don’t know about me, sweetie. Things that won’t show up in my file at the Hunters Association.”

“Alright, you win. I won’t question your taste any further.” You throw up your hands in mock surrender as you toss the frozen puff pastry into the trolley, giving him one last suspicious look before you continue walking down the aisle, leaving Sylus to let out a sigh of relief. 

That was–yet again–another close call, Sylus thinks to himself, watching as you waltz ahead, seeming to have already forgotten about the whole ordeal. It’s not like him to slip up like that, then again, his biggest weakness is you , so why should he be surprised? Sometimes all it takes is one word from you and he’s falling to his knees, absolutely powerless. He wonders what his enemies would think of him if they knew a Linkon Hunter had him on a leash. 

Lost in thought, he finds himself stranded in the vegetable section until you find him, laughing as you tug on his sleeve, asking him if he wants to go for coffee after grocery shopping. He’s about to say yes until he remembers he’s supposed to be practicing how to whip meringues this afternoon. 

“There’s an auction I have to attend, unfortunately,” he lies, ruffling your hair as you give him your signature pout. 

“Can’t you send Luke and Kieran instead?”

Sylus leans down and kisses your pout away. “Not this time, Kitten.”

“Sylus! We’re in public,” you grumble, pushing him away as you cover your blushing cheeks with your hands. 

“Ask me if I care,” Sylus says with a shrug before walking off, leaning against the trolley as he whistles out of tune. 

“Unbelievable,” you sigh, but you can’t help but smile at his brashness. 

That’s Sylus for you; a man who’s never afraid to show the world that you belong to him and him only.

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

“Boss man! Are you sure you’re the one who made this?”

Luke and Kieran clap their hands excitedly as Sylus places a picture-perfect fresh cream meringue tower in front of them.

“If you don’t believe me, ask Mephisto,” he scoffs, scarlet eyes glaring at the twins as they look at each other and have the actual audacity to laugh. 

“Who would have known Boss would be such a softie when it comes to Miss Hunter,” Luke teases.

Two seconds later, Luke finds his face being dunked into the meringues by a familiar cloud of red and black Evol. 

Kieran howls with laughter as Sylus walks away, a smirk on his face as Luke’s complaints fill the kitchen, his sneezes echoing the marble hallways as he tries to get the cream out of his nostrils.

VII.

It’s not everyday that Sylus finds himself dangling from a helicopter on a Thursday evening, but he supposes it’s something to be expected to happen at least once in this line of work. Somehow the bastards had managed to put an Evol suppressor around his neck, and after being shot multiple times, his healing powers are beginning to wane. It’s not enough to kill him of course, but it’s enough to slow him down. Usually in this kind of situation, he would have used his Evol to teleport somewhere, but the suppressor is choking his powers. 

“I will destroy Onychinus with these protocores!” 

Sylus scoffs as he looks up, only to be met with the scene of a man with a comically curled moustache bearing his teeth at him as he waves his gun around like a lunatic. Sylus cannot believe he has to spend his Thursday night with this buffoon. 

“Onychinus must die!”

“Drop me a line I haven’t heard before,” Sylus sighs, his arms starting to feel heavy as the helicopter rocks violently against the wind. If he wasn’t such a known villain, people down below could easily mistake him for some kind of hero from a comic book, and honestly , this whole situation is ridiculous. He knew he should have sent Luke and Kieran to deal with this. Fuck , it’s not like him to not think things through. 

Or maybe it’s time to face the facts; the baking is taking over his life. 

And shit , that reminds him, he left his victoria sponge cake in the oven just before he left. He’d anticipated the job would only take him forty minutes at the most. 

Annoyed, he lets go of one of the helicopter legs, digging around in his trouser pocket for his phone, which only causes the man to look at him with absolute terror, because what kind of guy just dangles so nonchalantly with one hand on a helicopter leg that’s about a thousand metres above ground level? 

Unbothered, Sylus speed dials Luke and Kieran, pressing the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he places his hand back on the helicopter leg.

“Yes, Boss?”

“The sponge cake in the oven. Take it out. I won’t be home in time to do it.”

“Boss! Is everything okay? There’s news reports of an unregistered helicopter flying around Linkon city, and there’s an unknown civilian dangling from the leg–”

“Did they at least describe me as handsome?”

“Wait, Boss…are you the one dangling from the helicopter?”

“Just take the cakes out of the oven. I’ll be back at the base to ice it, so you better make sure it doesn’t sink.”

“Uh…are you sure you don’t need backup, Boss?”

“Just do as I say.”

Sylus hangs up, just in time to see another helicopter arrive; a Hunters Association helicopter to be exact. Just his luck. With them around, he needs to make a quick exit, but there’s a batch of protocores that this goon has, and they are too tempting to leave behind for the Hunters to take. 

But it looks like the Hunters already have their eyes on the prize as Sylus watches with narrowed eyes as a rope ladder lands adjacent to him and a Hunter climbs down, her hair tied up into a ponytail that Sylus knows all too well.

“Having fun?” you say with a cheeky grin as you salute him. 

Sylus gives you a dry look. “Fancy meeting you here, Kitten.”

“There’s a bunch of protocores that this loser is smuggling. Naturally, the Association had to intervene. Some of them are pretty high grade,” you explain, still taking in Sylus’s current predicament. “How did he manage to put an Evol suppressor around your neck?”

“I was preoccupied. You wouldn’t be a darling and press the release button for me, would you? As you can see, my hands are tied here.”

“Depends. There’s a pretty hefty bounty on your head. I could make millions if I turned you in.”

“That’s why you should make a deal with me. Word on the street is that I’m quite fond of them.”

“Anything else you’re fond of?”

“If I told you, you’d call me a liar.”

“Someone has your heart?”

“She has my heart, body and soul.” 

“Sylus! I’m supposed to be working here!”

Sylus smirks as he revels in the way his words make you flustered. He smiles as you press the release button on the Evol collar, the familiar feeling of power surging through his veins as he turns his attention back to the idiot who has seemingly lost all confidence in himself and is currently in the middle of strapping a parachute onto his back. 

“I’m a little busy today, Sweetie. Think you and your Hunters can handle this fool? You can have the protocores as a compensation for cleaning up my mess.”

“What? You’re just giving the protocores to the Association? No catch?”

“I have you, what more could I ask for?”

“Sylus you can’t just– wait! Get back here!”

But Sylus is already free falling through the air, as if he’s flying. No matter how many times he finds himself plunging recklessly through the air, the adrenaline never gets old. He can hear you cursing his name in the distance, but he knows you’ll still call him tonight anyway. 

In the meantime, he has a Victoria sponge to ice. 

VIII.

The late Summer breeze gently tickles Sylus’s face as he sits out on the balcony, glasses perched on his nose, idly flicking through a The Art of Pastry: Volume III as the twilight sky provides a serene backdrop for his reading. 

“Sylus?” 

Sylus snaps the book shut and hides it under a cushion as the balcony door slides open and you slowly step out, barefoot in a chiffon sundress with your hair damp from the shower. Like a midsummer fairy, there’s a faint glow on your sun-kissed skin as you waltz over to him and plant yourself firmly in his lap.

“Why does your house smell like chocolate chip brownies?” you ask as you fiddle with his open collar. 

“Luke and Kieran must be up to something,” Sylus lies breezily, snapping his fingers and using his Evol to summon one of his poetry books. 

“Strange. I thought I saw some sweet treats stashed away in one of your kitchen cupboards.”

“Snooping around for some dirt on me?” Sylus asks, raising a silvery eyebrow. 

“Actually, I was looking for a snack, dummy.” You flick his forehead and move to jump off his lap, but Sylus is too quick, and he uses his Evol to hold you in place. 

“You always play dirty,” you complain, ready to launch a fist attack on his chest, but Sylus has other plans, and he snaps his fingers, swapping his book for a plate of freshly baked brownies.

You clap your hands at the magic trick, making him smile as he watches you dig in. 

“Where do you even find brownies like these? And they’re still warm.” 

Sylus feels his heart swell as your words fill him with pride. Little do you know that these are once again, a product of his hard work. According to Cecilia (and the majority of the class) his  sea salt brownies are unparalleled. 

“Here, you’ve got to try some!” 

Sylus opens his mouth as you slip a piece into his mouth. Yeah, they’re pretty fucking good. He’s tempted to tell you about the baking classes right here and now, but then he remembers the big plans he has. He’s come this far. It would be a shame to let the cat out of the bag after all his hard work. 

“Why are you always so lost in thought these days? You didn’t even complain about the brownies being too sweet,” your soft fingertips brush the loose bangs from Sylus’s face, making him wonder how he got so lucky that destiny blessed him with a second chance to be with you. 

“Maybe my palette is maturing with age,” Sylus jokes dryly.

“You can pretend all you want, but I know you like sweets, no matter how much you complain about them being full of sugar. The base is full of them recently. Marshmallows, salted caramel, chocolate chips; is Onychinus branching out into the sweet treat industry now too?”

Sylus scoffs. “I already have enough on my hands without dealing with opening a bakery.” 

“Maybe when we get old and retire we can open a cafe together. We can even call it Crow and Kitten ,” you tease, but Sylus can see your dreams dancing in your eyes. 

“And what plans do you have for our cafe?” he asks, a little curious. 

It’s hard to imagine living a normal life after everything he’s been through. Given what’s written in the stars for him, just surviving from day to day is an achievement. But as he listens to you talk about growing old together, Sylus is beginning to wonder if it’s a luxury that he can afford in this lifetime. He knows better than anyone how fragile hope can be. But for you; it’s always worth the risk. 

“...and we can serve matcha lattes, and you can use your Evol to help serve the food, and we can set up an area to play kitty cards… hey! Are you even listening?” 

Sylus blinks as you wave your hand in front of his face, a childish gesture, but endearing when done by you. 

“You’re always so far away even though you’re right in front of me. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be able to fully understand you.” 

Sylus can only gaze into your eyes as you use your hand to hold his chin in place. 

“I couldn’t burden you with my past like that,” Sylus says, holding your steady gaze. “There are  things in this life that I’ve done that are…unforgivable. In a job like this…I can’t always be the good guy.”

“No matter what decisions we make in life, we’re always hurting someone, Sylus,” you say, giving him a stern look. “You can’t possibly believe that everyone has a clean slate when they go to heaven.”

“But what if one day I hurt you, Kitten?”

“You wouldn’t.”

“But there might come a time when I don’t have a choice.”

“Stop that. I hate when torture yourself like this. You talk in your sleep, y’know. I hear your pain.” You reach out and poke the familiar frown between his brows. “And everytime you wake up, I can feel you reaching out, checking if I’m still alive.”

“I can’t lose you,” Sylus murmurs. I lost you once; and it destroyed me.

“And you won’t.” You tap the ruby crow brooch fastened to the strap of your sundress. “See? You’re always with me, and I’m always with you. ”

Sylus blinks in wonder as you cross your heart. You make love feel so simple; so light. Even the impossible is within reach with you by his side. This kind of feeling; it makes him want to stupid things. Fly to the moon? Why not? Quit Onychinus and run away into the sunset with you? It’s not like he has much to lose anyway. 

And he might tell you all this someday. When the dust settles and the Wanderers and the assassins aren’t lining up to kill the two of you; when all that’s left is a set of homemade rocking chairs on the wooden porch that has the footprints of your grandchildren embossed into the grain, maybe he’ll gently whisper all of the things he would do for you into the crown of your head. 

But for now; he just whispers I love you into your ear, like a secret promise. 

IX.

Eyes squinting with concentration, Sylus keeps his hands steady as he pipes neat little rosettes on the red velvet cake in front of him. After eight long weeks, his baking journey has come to a satisfying conclusion, or at least, that’s what he thinks, as he admires the masterpiece in front of him. 

“You’ve come a long way,” Cecila whistles as she gives Sylus a friendly pat on the back. “Who would have known that the worst baker here would actually blossom into a Michelin star-worthy pâtissier in the end?” 

“I suppose it all comes down to natural talent,” Sylus deadpans, but his face shows a hint of a smirk as Ceclia rolls her eyes at him. 

“Always so humble, aren’t you? You nearly burnt down the kitchen three times.”

“Keeping a tally of my failures? How childish.”

Cecilia barely dodges the meringue that Sylus sends flying at her with the help of his Evol. 

“You’d be nothing without all my knowledgeable advice,” Cecilia says, expecting another meringue to be thrown at her head, except it never comes. Instead, Sylus is looking at his cake with a nostalgic expression. 

“In all honesty, I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you, so in case I forget to say it…” he trails off, giving her an honest bow. “Thank you.”

Cecilia’s jaw drops. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say thank you before.”

“Only people who earn my respect deserve my thanks,” he scoffs. 

Cecilia folds her arms. “Are your standards always incredibly high?”

“When you’re blessed with the best of everything, why settle for less?” Sylus says with a shrug, carefully sprinkling some gold flakes onto the icing of his cake.

“So what now?” Cecilia asks, eyes curious as she looks between Sylus’s pensive face and the impressive red velvet cake. “Maybe you can bake your girlfriend something special.”

Sylus shakes his head. “No, that won’t do. Besides, I already have an idea in mind.”

He turns to face Cecilia, a wry smile tugging at his lips.

“A cake like this calls for a pseudo-marriage proposal.” 

X.

Like a revolving door, the change of seasons can become repetitive after a while. A constant game of give and take; each season eventually yields to the next. The same patterns, the same turns in the weather, Sylus has lived through enough lifetimes to sense the changes from even the most timid of nature’s whispers. 

And as Summer bleeds into Autumn–t he season where everything dies –for the first time in this lifetime Sylus feels something other than dismal dismay. He feels something new. And it probably has something and everything to do with the fact that he gets to have moments like these with you.

“Come and get me!”

Sylus looks at you from behind tinted frames, splashing around in the river, the water up to your ankles as you chase the fish, laughing as every attempt ends in vain. 

“Come on, Sylus! The water isn’t that cold!”

Sylus puts down his book and gives you a look. “How old are you again, Kitten?”

He laughs as you flip him the finger, but he’s already taking off his shoes and rolling up his trousers before he snaps his fingers and disappears. 

Used to his tricks by now, you change into a defensive pose, keeping your eyes peeled for the sound of his Evol, the shimmer in the air that is usually followed by a puff of black and red smoke. 

“Think fast, Sweetie.”

You yell as a giant wave appears out of nowhere and crashes down on you, sending you flailing, headfirst, into the water. Cursing Sylus’s name as you break the surface, you look around, ready to strangle him. 

“Stop hiding you coward!” you yell, brandishing your fist of anger in the air, just as a rush of scarlet and black mist swirls around you and Sylus appears a few metres away from you, doubled over as he laughs at your drenched appearance. 

“You are so dead!” 

And all Sylus can do is laugh as you chase him while the sun sets, casting a heavenly glow on your skin until eventually you both end up on the grass, your clothes drying on the rocks as you lay against his bare chest. 

𓇢𓆸𓏲𓇬𑁍

Much later, after the sun goes down and the world starts to fall into slumber, Sylus leads you down a candle lit pathway in the forest, his shirt loosely buttoned as you wear his jumper that’s so big, it drapes down to your knees. 

“So where exactly are you taking me again?” 

“If I told you, Kitten, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” 

Sylus smiles as you cling tighter to him, caution in your steps as you try to figure out where the rough terrain under your feet might be taking you. 

Sylus gives nothing away as he flicks away any debris with his Evol, holding your hand tight in his, anticipation pumping in his veins as he leads you deeper into the forest until–

“Oh my God.”

Roses. Hundreds and hundreds of roses. One for everyday that he spent searching for you. He doesn’t know how much he ordered in the end. All he knows is that he wanted to show you his pure devotion. That his soul is for you and for you only. Take me. Swallow me whole. I don’t care, as long as I can live inside your heart, I can breathe. 

“Sylus…” you trail off as your eyes land on the round, candlelit, mahogany table among the roses. In the centre of it all, a perfect triple layered red velvet cake, like a jewel shining in a cave, Sylus’s has laid his heart out for you.

“A little kitten once said that she’d marry anyone who could make her red velvet cake everyday.” 

Sylus wraps his arms around you and looks at you with all the earnesty of a man in love. 

“I’m not saying you have to marry me right now, but…” he smiles as he lifts you off your feet, holding you tight as your legs naturally wrap around his waist. 

“I’ll wait for you. No matter how long it takes you to decide. Even if you don’t want to get married at all; I don’t care. Wherever you go, I will follow. Until the world stops spinning and doomsday calls; I will be yours, my darling.”

Two pairs of eyes gaze into each other in a candlelit forest. The stars sigh and swoon as they watch two star-crossed lovers kiss beneath them. Forever entwined, their love knows no boundaries. 

And even though destiny has told him that time is running out; your lips make Sylus feel like this life is infinite.

[chunkitakii]

I love these!! Can you one but with public sex with 3D Mr. Ring a Ding? What if they almost get caught by Mr. Pye?

Sure can do Anon!

WARNING: This contains public sex, and Lux being a asshole.

Okay okay, so Lux and public sex would be QUITE an adventure.

This cocky bastard would probably enjoy seeing you all embarrassed and shy while doing the deed in public.

Lux would constantly try and see what he can do to make you louder, trying to push your limits.

But it would help him find more of your soft spots if anything.

And when you have someone ask if you’re okay, Lux would be the type to go even faster so he could see you falter in front of them. Smirking devilishly while trying to stay hidden.

And then when you get onto Lux, he’s going to act like he didn’t do anything. Giving you that sly look and calling you delusional. Gaslighting is his specialty!

(For this one, imma just say that the theater was still active even if the people went missing.)

Today was one of the biggest showings of the year. Showing a movie that people had waited to see on the big screen. And you didn’t know if you were ready for it or not.

You had stayed up late at the Palazzo, trying to make sure everything was dandy and tight for the next day’s showing. You would be a liar if you said you weren’t nervous. 

There was going to be an estimate of 50+ people showing up to see this movie. It doesn’t sound like a lot, but this theater seemed sort of small. And to be honest, you didn’t do well in big crowds.

As the day came, you had spent all day getting everyone's tickets, popcorn, drinks, and all sorts of items they would need for the movie. Dealing with all sorts of people: annoying ones, ones who were rude, and people who were just inconsiderate.

You were so ready to call it a day.

But, to your surprise. Mr. Pye acknowledged your hard work. Seeing you work with no break had made him feel anxious and sorry for you. He had wondered if you would eventually pass out and fall right on your face from exhaustion. 

So, being the good, sweet, kind man he is. Mr. Pye let you have a break. A break that would allow you to sit in the theater and watch the movie that had everyone’s attention. For free too!

How could you resist such an offer? You couldn’t after a long day, so you accepted with little hesitation. 

Going into the playing theater and giving Mr. Pye a silent wave as he stood in the projector room, you sat in the seat farthest away from the people and the screen. The corner of the theater seemed like the best option. Luckily, everyone was seated closest to the screen, away from the back. You had brought a blanket that you had stored in the back for when you had taken naps on the job. 

But you weren’t going to tell Mr. Pye that…

Wrapping a blanket over yourself, you sat back and sighed in relief. You felt all of the stress in your body leave, making you groan in satisfaction. Now, you can enjoy a movie in which you have no clue what is going on and sit back and relax after a hard day of work.

…

“Gee, you look like you’ve run a marathon, sunshine!”

Never mind.

You quickly turned your head to the familiar voice, only to find the pain of your existence, Lux.

Lux sat back in his chair, arms behind his head, and his cartoonish feet were lying on the chair in front of him. Lux had a goofy smile planted on his face, like he's about to ruin your whole career.

“Lux, what the heck? When did you get in? These people are going to see you!” You whispered and yelled at the same time, looking around frantically to see if anyone saw him. But the only thing you see is still the back of everyone's head. Lux only rolled his toonish eyes at you and blew raspberries in response.

“Oh pluh-ease! Not a single soul is going to even notice me. They all have their faces glued to the screen like it’s the best thing they’ll ever see!” You tried to shush Lux and try to get him to be quiet, but he still continued. “This plotline doesn’t even make any sense! I’ve seen better shows at the Kentucky Derby!-” You slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Would you shut your cartoonish little mouth up! The last thing we want is to have people return their money because of you!” You scolded him once more, but all you got was a couple more mumbled words in your hand.

Lux pulled your hand off of his mouth; a sound similar to a suction cup was heard. “Fine, fine, whatever you say…” That was all that Lux said before putting his gaze back on the big screen, and you did too.

You got comfortable once more in your seat, getting re-snug in your blanket, and you lay back and relaxed.

Suddenly, you can hear fake, long, whistling snoring beside you; no doubt it was Lux.

This is going to be one hell of a movie…

In the next 30 minutes of the movie, Lux would not stay still on his feet or even shut up. Lux would ask you lame jokes like knock-knock jokes or ‘what do you call…’ jokes. Or just plain old noises that were far too annoying and loud.

You had told him countless times that he should be quiet and stop it with the jokes and noises. But Lux still continued with his bickering.

You guess he just loved seeing you mad.

You almost gave up trying to until Lux managed to let out a loud one of his biggest ones yet. Lux, being the prankster he is, let out the most comical “yawns” in history. It wasn’t even a real yawn either.

The movie had one of its silent moments, and the theater went quiet. Everyone was waiting for a certain scene to happen. And then suddenly, “Yawn!”

Yoh quickly slapped a hand over Lux's mouth and ducked behind the seat in front of you. The audience looked around, wondering who had said such a rude thing. After a few minutes, everyone calmed down and continued to watch the movie.

You still held Lux underneath you, now glaring him down for his obnoxious behavior. “That is it, Lux! You are being way too loud! If you are going to keep this up, then get out!” You whispered loudly at him. 

You can see Lux’s face furrow in annoyance. “Loud? Loud?! Oh, I’ll show ya’ loud, sweetheart!” He argued back before he grabbed the hem of your blanket and got underneath it. Crawling his way up between your legs until you felt his fingers pull at the hem of your pants/dress.

”L-Lux? Cut it out!” You whispered at him, knowing where he is going with this. You tried to wiggle your way away from him, but that only gave him more access to tear your pants off of you. You felt yourself gasp at the sudden cold air but also pissed that he was doing this. 

You were going to yell at Lux once more, but you then felt the blanket on you too if you shuffled more. And before you know it, Lux was now in front. The blanket was over his head like a hood, and he positioned himself so his head lay on your shoulder but still craned to see your reactions that are soon to come.

Lux sat on his knees while in between yours. Both of you were in a position that resembled missionary, but while sitting up.

You can now see the evil, toothy smirk he now has. He could tell you were getting pissed at him, so before you could even say a word. Lux had begun to grind his lower half against your open area.

You gasped and tried to stifle a moan, but it just came out like a whine, if anything. You bowed your head and onto Lux’s shoulder in embarrassment. Hopefully to keep you from letting out too much noise.

But Lux had other plans.

You felt a hand on your neck, pushing your head up from Lux’s shoulder. “Ah, ah… Keep that pretty little head of yours up. I want to know how loud you can get…”

The movie had reached the climax of the story. And everyone was starting to finish up their popcorn, drinks, and candy. However, you were about to finish in a different way.

Lux, still in your seat, along with you, did not move an inch. Instead, he had sat there, cock deep within your core. 

You clutched onto Lux underneath the blanket with both your arms and legs. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, trying to keep him there underneath the blanket that kept others from both seeing him and seeing what the two of you were doing.

Why do you have Lux in a leglock to keep him from moving? Simple, because you knew the minute he moved, you wouldn't be able to stop the noises coming from your mouth.

Before such, Lux had this little game in his head. When the theater went quiet, he would give you his all. Meaning, he will go to town trying to make you at least scream once. But yet you didn’t.

Now see, he knew your body. If Lux just kept on going, you would be able to keep your pretty little mouth shut, and Lux does not want that. So, giving you short bursts of pleasure in pumping his shaft deep within you, it would definitely do the trick in getting you to raise your voice.

When the theater went quiet, Lux could feel your legs tighten against him. You knew what he was about to pull next, and you didn’t want to walk about all day in embarrassment from your filthy whines.

You stared down at Lux, who was peeking under the blanket with his famous toothy smile. Looking up at you like he’s not about to make you regret all of your life choices. “L-Lux, I swear. If you do this, I’m going to kill-” 

Thrust!…

It was one single thrust of his that did it. You swear you saw your life flash before your eyes as a shockwave of pleasure coursed through your veins. You let out a filthy whine and tried to cover your face in embarrassment. But Lux’s blue hand still had a firm grip on your neck.

You can see heads turn and look around the theater, wondering where the lewd noise came from. Your face had instantly turned hot, and shame and embarrassment ran hot through your body.

Oh, how you wanted to die right then and there…

Lux can vividly see your face and how cute your expressions were as you were overcome with both pleasure and embarrassment. 

He had also noticed how the theater was still quiet. The film still had one of it's ‘silent and dreadful’ moments. Jackpot.

Thrust!…Thrust!… Thrust!…

It was all so very filthy. He could hear every hitch and whine in your breath as he moved his hips and how his and your regions collided with each other.

You tried to tighten your legs to lock him in, but everything Lux gave you made your legs weak all over again. Your little mews didn’t help either, each one growing louder each time.

You can hear the seat underneath the two of you creak and groan. And the shuffling of Lux under the blanket.

You were hoping that the movie could finally move on from its silent, thrilling scenes and continue. But Lux’s thrusts only grew in speed; he was slowly losing himself. The excitement of this situation he has brought the both of you in has gotten the best of him. 

Lux thinks that maybe he should do this more often with you…

The credits of the movie roll, and the audience collects their empty popcorn buckets and drinks. Turning their heads to the back of the theater to head back out. 

Good news: you had made it out beforehand…

Bad news: You're fighting the urge to have your legs give out on you…

As soon as Lux’s little game was done, you ran out of the theater. You didn’t even have enough time to clean yourself up. You had a job to take care of. But the filthy feeling of Lux’s cum slowly sliding down your legs was making the job harder for you. (A white tear ran down your leg LMAOOO)

As people started to walk out of the theater, you had bid everyone a good night with a sloppy smile on your face. You're pretty sure you look like a hot mess right now; your work clothes are now wrinkly, and your hair is now a mess.

That devilish celluloid had made his dramatic exit when you pleaded with him to get off of you so you could get to work. He didn’t want to, but after what he caused you, he could spare you.

Now, you stood at the entrance of the theater, waiting for everyone to get out so you could clean it up for the next day.

“How was your break? Did you at least settle down and enjoy the movie?”

A familiar voice spoke to you, catching you off guard. Making you stand up straighter than you ever were. You turned around and saw Mr. Pye, waiting for your answer. 

“Oh, it was okay.” You spoke, but you couldn’t help but have your voice crack in front of him. 

“I take it you took it as your nap break, I assume.” He continued as he took a good look at you, noticing your rough form. You nodded at him quicker than you should have.

“Well, I came to ask you if you noticed some…odd behavior in there. Those gosh darn teens were messing around back there, I know it.” Mr. Pye spoke with a stern voice; he seemed pretty pissed about it.

“Odd behavior? What do you ever mean?” You replied back, wanting to know if what you are hearing is correct. “Well, you know…” Mr. Pye then stuttered profusely, not knowing how to say his next few words. But you knew what he was trying to get at even before he spoke.

And then it hit you…Mr. Pye had heard you in the theater…

You could feel your face becoming very hot, and embarrassment had risen up once again. Your boss had heard you whining, crying, and moaning to Lux.

“Oh, no. I haven’t seen a thing. I was asleep...” You simply stated to make it not obvious you were hiding something. Mr. Pye nodded at you and continued to change the subject to how the movie was and how it was poorly written.

But your attention was caught by the snickering of a certain toon. Laughing behind your back at your embarrassment.

Lux would absolutely LOVE embarrassing you in public, its his new found entertainment!

This guy just likes messing with you, what can he say.

[seriallcver]

The way Brynn crumbled against him was enough to make his chest tighten with pride. He held her there, his hands firm on her hips, grounding her as she rode out the aftershocks. Her soft confession sent a bolt of satisfaction straight through him. Never done that before? He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face, eyes darkening as he watched her slowly come back down to earth. "First time, huh?" Jamie's voice was low and dripping with satisfaction. He cupped her face roughly with one of his hands, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Fuck, baby... That's all me. Had you dripping and shaking like that just from my cock. You have no idea how fucking sexy you look when you let go like that." His lips pressed to hers slowly, purposely tasting her moans as she melted against him. But then she spoke again; those filthy words tumbling out of her mouth with zero hesitation, and it took everything in him to keep his composure. He groaned, hands gripping her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh with pure, unfiltered need. "Jesus fuck, Brynn..." Jamie groaned out, his voice almost guttural. “You want it all, huh? My cock in your ass... Your pretty little mouth stretched around me... My cum dripping out of you every fucking day?" His hips thrust up into her, emphasizing each filthy promise. "You think you can take it, baby? You really think you're ready for me to wreck every inch of you?" He was getting harder just from the thought of it. The image of her, mouth full of him, body bent over, taking him in every way he wanted? It was enough to have him damn near fucking feral. "I'll give it to you," he growled, pulling her flush against his chest. "I'll fill that tight little pussy until it's dripping. And when you're nice and stretched out for me, I'm gonna work you open until you can take me in your ass, too. But you gotta be good for me, Brynn. Let me train you, get you ready to take it all." Big hands gripped her ass, giving it a healthy smack, just before encouraging her to keep riding him, watching the way her tits bounced with every roll of her hips. "Yeah... Just like that. Show me how much you want it." Jamie's darkened gaze locked with hers, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Think you can make me proud again, baby? Think you can come on my cock one more time before I fill you up?"

the comedown was unlike anything that she had ever experienced before and the aftershocks coursed through her body as she sat against him. he was talking the words were only ringing through her ears as she couldn't process anything right now, fighting to catch her breath as her hands moved to his shoulders, bracing herself brynn had finally began to regain her composure. ❝ i've -- ❞ she paused, gaze flickering up to meet his, taking another breath before a soft smile started to tug at the corners of her lips. ❝ i've never done that before. ❞ the truth, and something she was sure that he'd love to know. that he was the first and only guy to get that kind of response from her.

another moan fell from her lips as she felt the way he rocked up into her, it was too good to be true how he felt inside of her. a perfect fit as far as she was concerned, and it wasn't something that brynn was going to get used to anytime soon. ❝ i don't want you to be done with me ever. i want you to use me whenever you need to, fill me over and over again, i want your cum leaking out of me every single day, and when you've had your fill of my pussy? take my ass, destroy my throat. ❞ she moaned out to him, maybe it was orgasmic high talking, and brynn knew that with his size it would take more than a little work to really fit him inside of her ass, but at least now she'd let him know that she wasn't opposed to it.

the question had her nodding her head, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she took it upon herself to start bouncing on him once more. thanks to the help of his hands on her hips she could really get a feel for him without losing her balance, hips rolling as she arched into him. ❝ i want daddy's load so deep inside of me, always. it's already the only thing i think about, the next time i'll be good enough for daddy's cum, it's my favorite kind of treat. ❞ 

[f0xglover]

Break Up

Okay here's Billy smut because I have free time and this is what my brain wanted to do lol. Didn't proof read and probably crazy full of grammatical errors. Also this is my first time doing billy hargrove x female reader so DISREGARD IF NOT RIGHT love you frandsss

Summary: You broke up with Billy but end up letting him crawl through your window anyway. He thinks it's make up sex. You think it's just sex sex.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Female! Reader

Warnings!: 18+!!!! Pure smut

Billy didn't care that you were broken up.

He never did. This was the second time now, and he knew it wouldn't last. Because he knew you loved him.

He felt it, in every angry look thrown, at every hurtful word. It only would make his smirk grow wider and wider.

Because he loved you, too. Even if you'd been acting like a bitch to him lately. Even if you ended things and told him more or less you didn't want him anymore.

So when he finds himself fumbling to take your clothes off in your bed, he knows it was only a matter of time.

"Jesus, why the-" he huffs, tearing off your sweater to reveal another shirt underneath. "-fuck are you wearing so many-" he rips the shirt off and nearly growls when there's a tank top under that one. "-goddamn layers!" He doesn't even bother with taking the silk cami off you, just rips it down to expose your perky breasts to him. It's not one of his favorites. He liked the lacey ones, black or red. He also got hot at the thought of you in those white ones, with your matching white panties with the little flower in the front.

His trousers grew tighter at the thought.

Still, he could appreciate this simple unpadded navy one he was groping under his hands, because of what it meant. You weren't anticipating fooling around with him. If you were, you would've worn something else, and the notion that he managed to get you like this makes his heart swell with cocky pride.

You lean back, trying to undress more, but his body crushes down onto yours, caging you in as if he thought you were trying to leave. "Because it's cold out, obviously." You look at him but he's done talking, sucking on your neck instantly and making a small whine leave your lips. You pull at his hair, trying to pry his lips off because you know what he's doing. Marking you. Immediately getting to it as though trying desperately to show that you're not single when you damn well still were.

If he thinks you're getting back together just because you're letting him fuck you, he's delirious.

"Miss you pulling my hair, sweetness." He says, lips moving back from your neck to your collarbone, his hip rutting against your thigh like a horny dog who can't control himself.

You don't answer because the thought alone kind of pisses you off. He missed this? Then why the fuck hadn't he spoken to you in two weeks? Why had he let you break up with him and walk away in the first place?

You yank a little harder, illiciting a uumph from his voice as he looks up at you.

He can see you're mad.

He likes it.

Shoots you that smirk that makes your knees weak as his tongue juts out to lick his lips. "Stop being such a bitch." He teases, and his hands are down to your jeans and undoing your zipper and pushing aside your panties. You almost forgot how fast he can get right down to it when he's buzzing like this.

He groans at the same time you do. You, from his fingers tracing you, and him from the goddamn feel of how wet you are for him. "Oh, sweetness, you missed me too, didn't you? Can feel it. Can feel it all over my hand..." He pulls out to bring them to his mouth. "No one tastes like you do."

Yeah, you knew this. He's told you it before. Hence the nickname. Sweetness.

His fingers go back in and your head goes back against your pillows, trying to hold back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"So much sweeter than Veronica..." He murmurs, and your eyes shoot open.

"Veronica!?" You're no longer planted softly in the bed, now you're arched up, but Billys free hand is on your stomach pushing you back down while his other works your core. "You said you haven't been with anyone else you son of-"

"I haven't." He laughs. His pupils are blown, forehead damp with sweat as a loose curl falls in front of his eyes. "Just wanted to see you get pissed. Wanted you to fucking talk, for christs sake. Where's that filthy mouth of yours, huh?" He challenges.

"Fuck you." You spat, trying to relax again as your heart thumps wildly in your chest. "That wasn't funny. I almost was going to kick your ass back out the window."

"Yeah, yeah. But yet you don't care anymore, right? That the angle you're still working with?" He hooks his fingers inside you and you can't be quiet this time as a moan slips out, back arching. "Needy girl." His thumb circles your clit lightly as more obsencities fall from your lips. "You were being so good, weren't you? Not talking to me, not even looking my way." His hand pulls out as he reaches for your jeans, pulling them down from your hips. "Even though your desperate cunt was aching for me. Look at you, sweetness, it's like you were going through damn withdrawl and now you're getting your fix." He mumbles as he pulls the panties down and looks at you in a way that makes you feel completely open and displayed for him.

"F...fuck you." You, somehow, manage to get out again. It's the most you can even think at this point. Because he's right. You had needed him. Your own hands weren't even as good anymore, could barely get yourself off without him.

His tongue laps up your core. That fat, long pink serpent that makes you see stars. God, you missed him. You missed this. If he wasn't such a sensational asshole you'd never even think about giving him up.

"It's okay, sweetness. I was just as bad, you know. Would fall asleep fucking into my hand imaginging it was you." He groaned, burrying his face back in, nose against your clit as you cried and grabbed his hair for support. He looks up at you, eager to please, and you can't help but feel yourself caving a bit.

He wanted you to talk. He loved it when you said nasty shit to him. You could tell he wanted it and you felt yourself falling jnto old patterns. "Sounds pathetic." You tell him, voice shakey from the pleasure he was supplying. "Fucking your hand when you could've been crawling in my bedroom window nightly and fucking me."

He groans, eating you like he's starved now and you're his own buffet. "Coulda had me nightly. Any position. Your own little fuck doll." You rasp out, jutting your hips and bucking into his face which only seems to entice him more. "Did you worry you'd come around and catch me with someone else?" You taunt. "Worried you'd see me riding some guy and realize I'm not your own little whore anymore?" He nips down at your clit and you let out a cry. "Fuck! What the fuck!?"

"Fuck you." He says, looking up at you now, eyes blazing. "Don't fucking tease me, you know that shit pisses me off."

You could laugh but you don't. He could play around about Veronica but he couldn't take it if you did it right back. It doesn't matter though because he's sucking at your clit now as though to make up for the bite and your whining as his nails dig into your thighs. "Billy..." Your voice is light, hand going to your own throat, feeling how hot you were and that ache deep inside that was getting closer and closer.

"I know." He huffs. He always could tell when you were close. Knew you better than you knew yourself. "I'll take you there, sweet girl. Get you feeling so good you'll never leave me again, yeah?"

You can't argue. You literally just can't. Not like this. But you don't want him back, right? Or, fuck, maybe you did. You couldn't think. You just needed to come. You needed to come so bad. Your hips are bucking and he's digging in, two fingers in you as he focused his tongue on your swollen clit. "Just tell me." He says, in between slurps and kisses and licks. "Tell me you love me."

Your eyes widen. How did he do this? He'd be flithy, sex crazed, obsessed and then suddenly he'd be open and wanting and needing to hear he was wanted and loved and you let out a deep moan, hands going to his hair to his shoulders to anywhere you could grasp of his tan skin peppered with scars. "I love you." You moan, needing him. "I love you. Always you. Always ever you. Love you so bad. Love you love you love you-"

And that's all he needed until he's picked up his pace and sends you over the edge as you cry out, eyes clenched shut, hips shaking and twitching as he clamps down on them and your cuming so much you're almost afraid he'll drown but it feels so good, so damn good and you'd needed it so bad it'd been so long.

Satisfied, he pulls away. He's grinning like the cat that ate the canery as he climbs over you. "So we're back together?"

"Fuck y-"

"Uhuh uh, sweetness." He says, putting his wet fingers into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue as you let out a pleased, sated noise, eyes nearly crossing dumbly. "That's up next. Trust me, you better work on more material if that's all you can say. We've got a lot of making up to get through."

[euphoricimagination]

Epilogue/second season(?) -> Masterlist of the full series

I couldn't help writing this after reading the last chapter of the manga, my poor Nagi :'(. Anyways, this is random and I don't know if there's going to be more, it depends on how the manga goes on, so it's just a waiting game

SPOILERS

You look at the clothes hanging on the wall, your blue lock uniform hanging right beside your school uniform, shining with only the blue light coming from your TV as the logo of BLTV appears.

Since you left Blue Lock right before it became a livestream entertainment, when you came back to school you could pretty much return to your normal life, only your closest friends knowing the truth behind your sudden disappearance from school.

You were watching constantly, supporting your friends in their dreams, but at the same time, hearing the excitement of every single one of your classmates when watching them play…it hurt a little. You could be there, play with them, be with them and nobody would know.

Watching from outside you could see just how intense every single match was, how intense every training session was, something you didn't fully notice while being inside. And now it was, somehow, even more cut throat than before. Ego always had a thing with lists, usually being who scored the most, but now only the Top 23 players with the highest monetary offer would continue.

But there was something bothering you. Something about Nagi felt…off.

He always was dependent on Reo, but you thought after parting ways on the second selection he was more independent, that he realized just how much potential he had. And at some moments of the matches that shine through, however…it looks that he fell back into the comfort of being with Reo. That especially became obvious after Nagi and Isagi competed against each other. As if Nagi had completed an achievement he was yearning to complete.

You weren't too worried though, despite his recent inconsistency he always was in the top 15, not bad considering everyone else's growth and competition. Besides, despite you constantly texting him about how he has to take things more seriously, he always told you that he was fine and changed the subject, so there was nothing more that you could do other than cheer him on.

Well, until now apparently. The last two matches of this season already finished and Ego was giving his usual speech before announcing the list. In first place, Ithoshi Rin and Isagi; you saw Bachira and Chigiri in fifth and sixth place respectively, making you immediately send a text to your redhead best friend to congratulate him; Reo was in 7th place. But more and more names were appearing on the screen, while Nagi’s wasn't shown yet, until…

*23 - NANASE - ¥ 25.000.000*

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

*24 - NAGI - ¥ 24.000.000*

Your eyes look in disbelief to the screen as you shuffle to get closer, trying to convince yourself that you just read the list wrong or that maybe it was a glitch. Nagi couldn't be out, he's amazing, there's no way these clubs don't recognize his talent. But minutes pass, the list doesn't change, Ego confirmed that the reason that his talent ‘withered’ was because of “satisfaction” and “teaming up with Reo”.

The transmission is cut right then, the logo appearing as you still sit in disbelief. A bunch of messages start ringing in your phone, mostly from your group chat reacting to the news since they also followed the show, knowing your ‘crush’ towards Nagi. But you still sit there, not knowing how to feel and contemplating the reasons. Ego was right, Nagi became too dependent again, he wasn't playing at his best…but eliminating him? Now?

You heard the special notification sound coming from your phone, instinctively taking it to see a message from him

“I'm out of Blue Lock :)”

“I'll go back to school on Monday :)”

Nagi was undoubtedly lazy and, for the most part, unbothered by pretty much everything, but you knew by that text that something wasn't right. That was only confirmed by the texts of Reo and Chigiri. Today was Saturday, you couldn't go tomorrow since your club had an important match, but you could go on Monday…but how? Now that you had a bunch of money you could get to Tokyo by plane, a much faster way, but you didn't even know where his school was. Luckily for you, Reo decided to help you. If you took the plane right after your school day ended, you'll still arrive before his school day ended, and he instructed Baya-san to wait for you at the airport to take you to the school. You couldn't have planned it more perfectly, cause the next day the Blue Lock app showed you a notification that the top 23 was doing a small parade through the city, so you could see the guys again as well.

++++

Monday afternoon was here, and while waiting for the plane to land you couldn't help to overthink this whole thing. What if Nagi was truly fine? He did seem a bit more dry during your conversations, but it could also be that he was tired, after all, you only met him a few months ago, you couldn't even tell if you were dating or not, you just…kiss. But it was too late now, if nothing seemed wrong, you could at least mask it as if you just wanted to see him.

Baya leaves you at the front of the school, a big, clearly upper-class one. You followed the instructions that Reo sent you to Nagi´s classroom, hoping that he hadn't already gone back to his house or changed location. You open the door in front of the classroom, quickly scanning it when you see white hair and an oversized boy laying down on the table. Your heart starts to beat faster as you enter the classroom, and thinking that he was sleeping, you slowly walk towards him to not wake him up. That until you heard a low sniff, clearly trying to suppress it.

“Sei” you say, now quickly going to his side as he lift his head, surprised and confused

“Y-Yn?” he whispers, but before he could say anything else you wrapped your arms around his neck. He takes a while to react, slowly putting his head in the crock of your neck and starts hugging you back “Yn”

“I'm here Sei, im here” you play with the back of his head, his sniffles becoming a bit louder, making your heart break slightly

“Why didn't I try harder? Why couldn't I play like usual? Wh- why do I feel like this?” he asks as his hold becomes tighter, making you want to cry with him.

You decided to not answer yet, just holding him closer as he cries his heart out. Considering his history in sports, he has always been a genius in all of them, so all of these feelings and frustrations must be a completely new thing for him. Plus, being a rich kid with a very protective best friend made him a very sheltered kid that doesn't know how it feels to truly lose something.

“Better?” you ask him after a few minutes, once his crying has calm down a little “Well, to answer your questions, you just became to compliant, this is how people feel when they realized that they could have done more”

“I hated having to put so much effort, but why do I want to come back?” his eyes start to tear up again, so you hold his face so you can look directly into his eyes

“Because you had fun, you enjoyed playing soccer, that's all” he closes his eyes and leans his forehead into yours, closing the gap between your faces

“I knew you were cheering me on…s-sorry for letting you and Choki down” he whispers

“You didn't let us down, you still are one of the most talented players i know, and you still have offers to play professional” you flick his cheek slightly”Don't worry, I'll give Ego an earful about what he said to you, that bastard needs a humbling”

“You sound…confident” he says, finally letting a small chuckle

“Oh, believe me, I am” you smile softly “want to go home? Cause i haven't figure out a place to stay yet”

“Stay at mine, it's a pain to let you go now” he holds you face as he says this, closing the gap between your lips as he kisses you softly “I missed you, thank you for coming all the way here for me”

“I missed you too” you kiss him quickly again, standing up as you start pulling him away from the classroom, far away from that window where he could see the football team “Let's go, maybe we could go to that arcade place we went last time so i can beat your ass”

You hear him mutter something as he chuckles something, but your phone rings loudly enough for you to miss whatever he said, a message from Chigiri letting you know about their schedule; but for now you push that aside, walking with Nagi hand in hand as you promise to yourself to find a way to make Japan know the genius that Nagi Seishiro truly is.

[iinarizaki]

play

a day of pampering turns into a little bit more for dabi 😈 tags: 18+, 1.9k, dabi x afab reader, edging, lil bit of overstim, bullying dabi with mama (and a vibrator), pet names (brat/sweetheart/baby), brief oral (f!receiving), we bully dabi he bullies us back, it's all in good fun

What a sight League of Villains member Dabi is spread out on your sheets, a dusky scarred arm thrown over his eyes as his abdomen continuously tenses and relaxes. The occasional grunt and raspy hum are the only other sounds in the room over the wet schlick of your hands working over his pretty cock while you straddle one of his thighs, just hovering over it. 

You’ve never put a label on it but nights of takeout, talks, nursing his wounds, and late night comforts have lead you to a fragile situation where neither of you could really stomach the thought of the other with anybody else…but also not wanting to ruin things with too many feelings.

And there’s also the fact that he’s one of the most wanted villains in Japan currently and you are, well, not that.

There’s a delicate balance. 

“You’re so handsome like this.” You coo, pulling away one slick hand to ghost over his taut inner thigh. His thighs jerk strongly, sensitive and already tuned up from everything else you’ve been doing to him, dragging between your legs to provide brief relief occasionally. 

“Close, ‘m close.” Dabi rasps, a warning and a plea at the same time. 

He likes to come in your mouth, your tongue spread flat and wide against the twitching underside of his cock while his cum slides down your throat. 

Something that you enjoy as well, but something you aren’t going to let him have the satisfaction of just yet today, a streak of wickedness running through you that just grows wider with every sound of pleasure you coax from him.

You pull your hands away just as he starts to hiss, his usually still hips starting to cant up into your touch. Dabi lifts his arm, brilliantly bright blue eyes staring down at you with surprise that shifts into confusion.

“What the hell?” 

You rub your hands over his thighs, up to the jut of his hip bones, mindful of his scars (that you’ve already taken a generous amount of time applying moisturizer to– which is what landed you two here in the first place) purposefully staying away from his painfully hard cock to delight in the other parts of his body and the way he reacts with little twitches and a sudden rumble in his chest. 

“Just feel like teasing you a little.” You say breezily, as if he couldn’t immolate you with a flick of his fingers. 

“Not cute, brat.” Dabi frowns deeper, letting his arm fall to rest above his head on the pillows, the other resting at his side.

Maybe you’re stupid. Truly. For not being very scared of him anymore, barely intimidated when he throws a glare and empty threat your way, but after that time he actually pulled you out of harms way with a derisive ‘don’t just stand there and wait to get hit, idiot’ and a glint of worry in those handsome eyes, you’ve been pretty confident that he wouldn’t intentionally hurt you. 

“You’re such a baby.” You tease as you slide your hand over his cock once, catching your fingers on the piercing that adorns the head of it. “I won’t leave you hanging.” 

Dabi just stares at you as if he’s actively judging your performance now, but the intensity of his judgment paired with how his fluffy black hair sticks up at funny angles against your more ‘normie’ style pillows paints a completely unserious picture. 

Still, though, now you feel the desire to make sure you don’t flop this. Just because he is borderline nice to you most of the time doesn’t mean that the teasing he dishes out is for the fainthearted.  

Your fingers brush over the marred skin of his chest back down to his waist and even further, careful of the staples that help hold his skin together. There’s something about how intimate it feels to get to touch him at all, in a sexual way or just helping him with the daily maintenance of making sure his body doesn’t disintegrate, that makes your chest feel warm. One day you might call it more, but that’s a scary prospect.

Pushing away any thoughts of the big four lettered L word for now, you grab the small vibrator from your night table. You offer him a questioning look, waving the vibrator back and forth in short motions of your wrist. “Trust me?”

“You’re gonna use that on me?” 

“Yeah.”

Barely a beat passes before a curious smirk tugs at his lips, staples pulling with the movement.

“Yeah, sure. Always wondered what that felt like anyway.” His tone is nonchalant, but his expression gives away new interest. 

His gaze is heavy on you, anticipatory and eager as you turn it on and start to bring it down towards his groin. But before you just go in for the kill, you let it touch the unscarred parts of his abdomen, his breath catching at how it tickles. He huffs a small chuckle, shifting in place. 

“Sure in a mood tonight, aren’t ya?” He rasps, tongue darting out to wet his lips, a flash of silver catching in the low light across the room at your desk before he closes his mouth again. 

You shrug, vibrator traveling lower and lower, now over his hips as Dabi does his best to stay still and pretend it doesn’t feel as good as it does yet. “You’ve just got me feeling a little extra wild tonight. I like hearing you moan.” 

Dabi hums thoughtfully, sound twisting into a low curse when you follow the curve around the base of his cock to hold it against his balls. You wrap your unoccupied hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before you apply a little pressure with your thumb just under his cockhead, enchanted by how a trickle of clear pre-cum drips down his tip and he shudders, burying the side of his face into your pillow as he twists his hand into your sheets. 

You flip the vibrator off and pull your hand away from his cock, tugging his taut balls away from his body. The tortured groan he emits from deep in his chest has your underwear well and truly soaked, a persistent ache between your legs that you’ve been ignoring that continues to ramp up. 

He growls your name, one bright blue eye cracked open to glare at you from the pillows. 

You can’t help but laugh. Just a little. 

“Sorry.”

Dabi snorts, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, no, you’re not.” 

“Yeah…I’m not. How does the vibe feel?” 

“Turn it back on and you’ll find out.” He continues to glare, utterly relaxed aside from the rise of his chest and growing frustrated need that his weeping, red cock and expression betray. 

“You look so hot like this.” You purr, ducking down to kiss his scarred pectoral. 

“Getting tortured? That’s sick, y’know.” He scoffs. 

You retort with a scoff of your own. “Says you.” 

Those pretty blue eyes roll.   

“It is hot. Would be hotter if you let me fucking cum.” Dabi complains, staring you down pointedly. 

“Patience is a virtue.” You sagely advise as you keep a watchful eye on him. His breathing has mostly slowed, the slight tension in his abdomen easing and letting you know it’s the right time to finish him. 

Switching tactics, you press the vibrator back to the base of his cock and turn it on, slowly following a prominent vein upward while you squeeze his balls. Dabi groans, a stream of curses falling from his lips as his hips start to cant up. You press it firmly under the head of his cock and he fully bucks, drawing the firmly muscled leg you’ve been hovering over up and accidentally dragging it between your legs firmly, pulling a surprised hum from you when it rubs against your swollen, aching clit. 

“Come for me now, baby.” You coo as he gasps, a sharp raspy bark escaping him when his release hits him hard, warm cum painting up to his chest and scars with ropes of white. 

Continuing to hold the vibrator against the underside of his cock while he rides out his orgasm, he bucks and shudders, rough groans and panted breaths filling the space deliciously as a few rogue spurts continue to spill from him. 

“C’mon, stop, fuck.” Dabi chants as he begins to blindly claw for your naughty hands, quickly approaching overstimulation and tired from a full body massage to start with. 

You relent, switching it off and setting it down near the foot of the bed right behind you before starting to admire your results. The slight flush across the unscarred parts of his cheeks, the cum painting his stomach, the glassiness to his pretty eyes…

“C’mere.” He opens his arms to you, and you crawl up to his side, falling for his trap. 

Dabi kisses you, gently, affectionate and soft for a few passes of his lips before it becomes more insistent, hungry and strong and taking your breath away before he rolls over top of you to cage you underneath him. The cum on his stomach drops down in sticky webs onto your shirt and exposed parts of your stomach from where it has ridden up. 

He pulls away to sit up just long enough to grab your vibrator from where it rests behind him now, returning to you to start pressing brief, distracted kisses to your neck, the staples on his chin occasionally brushing against your skin as he drops lower. 

“What are you planning?” You ask when Dabi reaches your chest, a slight feeling of dread mixed with excitement resting under your ribs. 

From experience, you may not be out of bed for the next day depending on how ~serious~ he just took your little game. 

“Just feel like teasing you a little.” Dabi smiles ever so menacingly, a wicked sparkle in his eye as he pushes a hand between your legs to stroke over your cunt through your soaked underwear. “You’re dripping.” 

And cooked. Utterly cooked. 

“You’re hot when you come. Sue me.” You state indignantly, staring up at the ceiling now, eyes widening when you feel a flash of heat and look back down to see your underwear in ashes with a smug Dabi. “Did you just burn my underwear?” 

Wasn’t even a question you needed to ask, the smell of burnt fabric in the air and the ashes across your hips confirm that, but it’s the ridiculousness of it all that needs a quick confirmation.  

“You don’t need it.” He says dismissively as he drops down and flicks the vibrator on. Fire already licks up your spine, electricity thrumming through your veins the closer his mouth gets to your cunt. 

Wasting no time, Dabi presses the vibrator to your clit at the same moment he dives into your folds with his tongue, putting the silver piercing in the middle of his tongue to good use. Immediately overwhelmed, your back arches and you scramble to find an anchor by threading your hand into his inky hair. 

With methodical, nearly surgical precision, he remembers and hits all the spots that he knows drive you insane, your climax coming fast and hard when he suddenly pulls your vibrator away. And then he stops eating you out like a man starved, only gently circling his thumb around your clit.  

“Bro.” You protest quietly, the sudden loss of almost all stimulation ruining it in an instant as it fizzles out. 

“What, bro?” 

“I was so close.” 

“Sweetheart,” Dabi says with a mocking rasp and a bright smile, flicking on your vibrator. "We're only getting started.”

[absynthe-mind]

HAAAI HAAAAAIII HAAAIII

Uh how bout some good breeding with Russ? He can smell that you're horny during some meeting and takes the advantage of this

Ok so this ended up MUCH longer than I was intending (~2500 words) - hope you enjoy!

Leman Russ (Oneshot) - The Meeting

TW: voyeurism, fingering, sex, dub-con

It was far too early in the morning when Russ left the bed, pressing half a dozen kisses and even more nips across your neck and chest before bundling you up again. 

You feel an odd wet feeling against your neck that your sleepy brain takes a second to register as his tongue lapping against you, along with his warm breath huffing against you rapidly. Sniffing, your brain eventually supplies.

He recedes a moment later, half chuckling as his chest makes some sort of deep rumbling sound of satisfaction. 

Then, the bastard laughs at you while you whine from the loss of your giant heater on such a cold Fenrissian morning.

You can’t imagine how freezing it must be without a big wolfy heater, enough furs to make a war tent, and the fire Leman had ordered to be consistently tended to just for your comfort.

Still, at least you were allowed to sleep in on most days and stave off getting out of your warm, comfortable nest for an extra few hours unlike the vast majority of people on Fenris.

In fact, the sun was well risen by the time you properly wake up for the day, not too far from midday. 

It's a lazy wake up too, bones popping and cracking as you slowly stretch. The nips Leman had given you that morning were already forming small bruises that would thankfully be covered by the layers of cloak and furs you’d don for the day.

You were already getting whistles down the corridor and loud whooping following you from his sons following Leman announcing he was ‘going to claim you as his Little Wolf’, and quite frankly you couldn’t imagine how they’d react to openly seeing his claims on you.

After dressing and carefully arranging your clothes until the marks were covered, you take a moment to lament how lecherous the wolf primarch was - all your underwear had been thrown out and clothing replaced with much more exposing and easy to access robes. You suspected that if it weren’t so cold he would have taken absolutely everything that you could cover yourself with.

You spend the rest of the morning grazing on some cured meats, cheese and bread while debating what you should do with your afternoon - maybe some crafting? One of the serfs had offered to teach you to weave to fill up your spare time…

Your musings are interrupted and activity choices ripped from you when an older looking space wolf enters to inform you that Russ has requested your presence at his afternoon war council. 

He looks you up and down expectantly, a small grin creeping up his face as he motions for you to follow him.

All you can think of on the way there is why on Terra Leman would want you to attend a war council, he couldn’t possibly expect you to contribute anything of worth, could he?

Thinking of Leman sends a warm feeling to the bottom of your abdomen, a feeling you’d been hoping to squash down by avoidance until the two of you spent the long evenings alone together.

Say what you would about his boisterousness and loud, rough temperament, he treated you well both in daily life and the bedroom.

It had taken a lot of getting used to, the constant attention, lavish lifestyle and then the sex that had you drooling and begging around his beast of a cock.

Thankfully he’d taken it relatively slowly, always working to open you up properly to fit him, and starting off slow, sweet and sensual. 

Between his careful preparation and aftercare you didn’t even have any issues walking like you’d anticipated - though you did have jelly legs for the rest of the night and most of the morning, no amount of care could completely eliminate the effect of a huge cock and his thunderous pace.

Thinking through how he’d been treating you did nothing to alleviate that growing warmth, in fact, it had only grown worse - and now you were here, just outside of the war council.

Your escort announces your arrival, not even giving you a moment to try to collect yourself, and suddenly you feel the weight of over a dozen eyes.

Captains, Sergeants and him, staring at you.

His face is pulled into a wide grin, teeth bared, as his eyes rake up and down until you feel as if you might as well have come naked.

“Come.” he commands you, though not unkindly, eyes glittering with some mix of mirth and eagerness.

After a brief moment of hesitation your feet seem to move for you, carrying you to his side. As you get closer, he pats his lap, inviting you to take a seat.

Trepidation fills you, the thought of being sat on his lap appealing - but in front of an audience of his most trusted and capable sons? In a war council?

Before you can deliberate further, or voice protest, he reaches out, snaking a broad arm around your waist and scooping you up with a single hand. He ignores your squeak of protest, manoeuvring you so you’re pressed flush against him.

He doesn’t let you wiggle even an inch away from him, his arm pinning you down to him and pulling you in further - ensuring your ass is pushed right against his groin. 

“I’d stop squirming if I were you, darling.” His tone is low with a hint of amusement laced through as he bends to whisper directly to your ear. 

The implication freezes you in place, cheeks flushing a furious crimson and mouth turning dry, that warmth in your gut growing stronger with every passing second.

Leman hums loudly, inhaling your scent deeply before turning back to the meeting at hand, and though you can’t see his face now that your back is pressed into his firm chest you could swear as to hearing a smirk in his voice.

Resuming of the meeting might as well be torture to you. You don’t understand enough of the complex tactics, supply lines and other jargon language to distract yourself with paying attention, and despite the comfort that Leman’s body heat is providing against the cold air it’s sending your body all the wrong signals.

With his fingers splayed across your lower stomach, idly pawing at you while he speaks and listens in turn, it takes all your concentration not to start squirming and moaning. Normally it was Leman jumping your bones the moment the two of you were alone but tonight you had a feeling it would be you initiating instead.

That changes the moment his hand slips beneath the furs you’d wrapped yourself in, and then through the exposing robes, settling his fingers all the way around the front of your stomach and gripping the curve of your waist too.

It becomes all you can do just to keep from wantonly moaning like a bitch in heat, opting to bite the inside of your cheek to keep in all the sounds you desperately want to make down.

Oh and then the smug bastard goes and starts stroking, moving further and further down until he is lightly pressing over your sex, stroking and circling around without providing any true pressure - but it makes your vision go fuzzy at the edges regardless.

You take a deep breath in, steeling yourself to lean back into him and look up to try communicate that he needs to stop because you’re in a meeting and quite frankly you’re not going to last another five minutes like this. 

Tilting your head up to look at him is both a physical challenge and worries you that you’re drawing his son’s attention to yourself when you want nothing less.

When you do look up it’s to find he is already staring down at you, a wide, smug grin stretched right across his face telling you he knows exactly what he’s doing, and if anything your pleading face only spurs him on.

His fingers curl against you, coming teasingly close to your hole, making you bite into your lip hard and tears spring in your eyes. Your reaction causes his own eyes to light up with amusement and his chest shakes with suppressed laughter as he presses a juxtaposingly sweet kiss to your forehead.

The confusing and conflicting messages finally break your resolve and a low, heady whine breaks free. 

Immediately, the blush spreads from your cheeks to the rest of your face and down your neck too. You become acutely aware of his sons watching the two of you, the meeting having come to a pause, and you are suddenly very glad that your eyes are focussed upwards on Leman rather than the knowing gazes of his sons.

As if reading your mind, Leman suddenly reaches his freehand to grasp the lower half of your face, tilting it back down towards the council and conveniently muffle your noises. 

Convenient because he takes this opportunity to finally stop teasing and slips a huge finger into your hole, already clenching for him, and if he wasn’t using his hand as a gag you’re pretty sure the sound produced would have been nothing but incoherent horny moans. 

You’re not sure if this is some fever dream as the meeting resumes, his sons continuing over the agenda. It would have been maddening if not for the few of them smiling and jeering - confirming that you weren’t insane and Leman was in fact semi-openly finger fucking you on his lap. In a meeting.

In, out, in, out. His finger curls up against your walls, teasing further by deftly avoiding that one sweet spot he knows by heart now.

You’re so ready for him that even his large finger isn’t stretching you like normal, instead slipping in and out with ease. He adds a second finger to join it faster than he ever has before, and the pleasurable burn starts consuming all other thoughts.

Some part of your brain understands still that you have an audience and that once you come down from this desperately building high you’re going to be so deeply regretful and mortified - but a bigger part of you is so pent up and blissed that you can’t bring yourself to care just yet.

As his fingers curl again, this time pressing hard against that spot, you can’t help but gasp into his hand. Your own hands come flying down to his thighs, gripping them tightly.

He chuckles, the sound and movement reverberating from his chest to your back, and the vibration builds you even closer. 

A third finger is added to the mix and the meeting is completely forgotten to you. Orbital bombardment never meant anything to you to begin with and it certainly doesn’t now that your core is so tightly coiled you’re sure you’re going to burst.

The pressure builds and you can just about feel the fog coming down over you, when everything suddenly stops.

He stops moving, pulling his fingers out with a ‘pop’ and vigorously licking them clean.

You begin to look back in betrayal, making noises of protest. All that just to be-

The world tilts on its axis slightly as he shifts your hips upwards, deftly pulls aside his furs and deposits you on his ready and waiting cock.

You’re much, much fuller than you were even with three fingers, but there’s no burn like normal, just a comfortable stretch that fills you up like nothing else.

Vaguely, you’re aware your nails have scraped and clawed their way down his thighs as you pant and mewl into his hand.

For a long moment, nothing happens. He leaves you impaled on his dick while he answers some asinine question about troop formations. 

When he keeps going, content to ignore you for a long moment while his cock twitches teasingly inside you, you decide in a moment of somewhat clarity that two can play this game.

Summoning all your willpower not to cum right there and then, you throw in a few clenches, trying to squeeze his cock as best you can.

The effect was immediate: hands gripping tighter around you, eyes darkening, cock twitching violently inside you.

Letting out a deep hiss of air Leman pulls you up by your hips once more, this time lifting you to the tip before letting you drop back down, before repeating over and over. You feel the full length of his dick grinding against every crevice of your inner walls, dragging against every tender spot as he goes.

Despite the stretching and wetness it's so tight you can feel every inch of his cock, the thick veins throbbing inside, the slight curve - all of it. His balls slapping between both of your thighs was practically squeezing them for him too, making him release guttural, throaty moans.

You were getting deliciously close to cumming again, building up an even bigger orgasm than before, but Leman clearly wasn’t satisfied. 

He shifted from just lifting you and letting you drop to pulling you up and slamming you down on his cock, whole body bouncing as you smacked against his taut muscles.

The shift in pace was enough to send you over the edge, vision going black and then white as your muscles went rigid and toes curled.

Not long after Leman follows you, filling you up with hot seed and dragging out your orgasm as it starts spilling out beneath you, coating both your thighs and the furs beneath.

He doesn’t stop though, continuing to fuck you with his semi-hard cock, already firming up for round two as he forces your orgasm to prolong for as long as possible.

Half way through his second orgasm your body goes limp against him, boneless and utterly fucked out - unable to comprehend anything past the stretch of his cock, his body warm against you and the utter bliss you were experiencing. 

Waking up in the mid evening was not something you were used to, even less so wrapped up with Leman curled around you protectively, absentmindedly petting your hair.

In the time it takes you to properly wake up you’re already remembering the balls deep fucking he just gave you, how he had - the meeting.

You had been in a meeting.

He must have seen the dawning horror in your expression as your soft, sleepy blissed out wake up morphed into sheer mortification, because he started quickly shushing you before you could start bawling.

“Shhh, shhh little wolf, it's alright. Everyone is impressed and proud of you, taking me like a good little mate, handling the big bad wolf,” he says with a self-satisfied smirk.

He resumes his petting of your hair, “besides, I could smell how much you wanted me to have my way with you. You can’t hide your scent from me, darling.”

[the-damndest--creature]

I dont think that means they think men deserve it more or are more important than women, I think they're just like...straight lol. And enjoy male company (most of the time). I really dont think the strength of sexual draw can be understated. Its basically like asking straight women to overcome their deepest, most ingrained evolutionary instinct and drive, embedded into every strand of DNA. Humans are just furry animals after all. And on a more human level, that means giving up on romantic or sexual fulfillment, or having that life partner. You can absolutely love your friends to death but Im sorry, I dont believe that it'll ever be the same satisfaction. Not having a life partner is huge socially, too. Many wont have female support or struggle with female connection. Its just a huge thing to completely give up when youre young, and I wish blackpill/separatist types acknowledged that more- that no, its not easy at all for hetero women. Still possible of course, and I guess the argument is that its way worth it/necessary for female liberation.

Fair enough :)

Well I define womens liberation mostly in legal terms of having equal rights and reduction of violent crime/justice for crime against women. Men are 50% of the population and will most likely always exist as long as humans exist, unfortunately. I dont see how we would ever eradicate them, so the only paths are trying to find a way to co-exist or cut them off as best you can, but unless we create a whole women-only society, theyre still always gunna be around you. In some hypothetical world where theres mens-only and womens-only lands, men will always invade us and 'steal' us... I just dont believe that they would stop until they did, or that we would be able to keep them out for long. Not that thats reason to not try to separate as much as possible..., its just, seems pointless, impossible in reality. Do you think all oppressed should just separate from their oppressors? Like black people from white, like some support for various reasons? If we all just kept dividing like that...would we reach world peace. Highly doubt that. Im just thinking aloud at this point lol, but I just dont think total separation can be achieved like that. Id love to be proven wrong. So then we can only do half-separation, with men still having to be around us in day to day life even if not in our personal lives. Unless we live in a forest or something.

>"Again, I'm asking you to not shield yourself with examples like Afghanistan women, or something. I'm talking about women that can separate from men but choose not to."

I understand, I wont do that. I hate when people purposefully misunderstand someones argument.

>"So I'm just not sure what do you mean by "when the more women are free..." because many women can be free right now, they just don't want to."

I meant like when all the women in Afghanistan, India, parts of Africa-women in the worst conditions of misogyny currently- are 'freed'/in much better conditions. The more 'freed' women there are, I hope that the easier to will get to free the rest of them, and have a snowball/acceleration affect that I think most social movements have?

How are you defining being freed? (in modern western, not extremes like Afghanistan). Cuz most women dont define freedom as having no males in their lives, they dont want that, they just want to stop being hurt by them.

>"Women can choose to choose each other, other women and their daughters even in Afghanistan, by the way."

Well yes I guess so, as much as they can. I guess their only choices are to cling to each other or be brainwashed. Both are horrors.

>I meant that you still have to associate with men, at least a little, when they're your coworkers, boss, or something like that. Men are always gunna be around you in society. I guess Im just saying- complete separation seems realistically impossible, so its now just a debate of degree of separation.

>Its not a non-action if you already have men you love in your life, you already have relationships with them, live with them.

>"I reiterate my point - women can do whatever they want, but actions have consequences. It's just… life."

Cant argue with that.

Well I may or may not reply again but this was an interesting conversation so thank you for having a polite conversation with me! I do see your perspective even if I still dont fully agree.

Breaking News: @radfemcroatia completes her very first cognizant statement, "I am not a feminist".

"I get irrationally angry when i see women supporting women"

"Women are equally responsible for being raped and oppressed for thousands of years"

"Normie women"

This doesn't sound like a radical feminist, this sounds like an Andrew Tate supporter. tell me what your blog has done to support women?

In the entire time your blog has existed, you never supported a woman once. you never outright CRITICSED a MAN. You only used men as a comparison for why you hate other women.

you have dedicated your time here to sending death threats to women you deem "less feminist". Multiple at that.

You are an unstable, woman-hating incel and you have no place here.

and the most disgusting repost in all of radblr.

You're blaming women for their rape? do you not understand that?

nvm.. it appears you do

It shouldn't have to be said.: You are not a radical feminist if you think that the patriarchy is the fault of the oppressed.

You take every step backwards to defend men. If a woman was raped, it's "what was she wearing", "she let him in" "why was she with him"

and if all else fails, its "well a women out there somewhere birthed the rapist"

not only that, but you're a bioessentialist too

You say women are cock slaves and then say this?

And on top of that, this sentence is funny because YOU DO say it was imposed on us by aliens, by posting not just once, but 3 times, a WordPress article that says women are biologically inferior and neutralized by method of probing. You inact purity culture to an extent that you say sex causes "intellectual disabilities" in women, which you agree, apparently, is highly saturated. Not only do you blame women for getting raped, you blame them for getting pregnant?

50 million women are sex trafficked, and that doesn't account for the 50% of all women that live in a location where they legally cannot access the same freedom of a man without his permission. almost 25% of women live in areas where the age of consent is prepubescent. in areas where woman cannot own guns, cannot travel, cannot LEAVE without being harassed, nonetheless killed. the next time you talk about how it's "womans fault" for "letting men in" or for "getting raped by someone's son" or for "not starting a revolution because they're too lazy" i want you to think of this image

think of the fact that the GOVERNMENT did this to a 6 year old for saying "no", and think about how that shaped her for the rest of her life.

I wouldn't be surprised if you don't, because you CANT think, judging by who you follow

What does it take u to understand that being separatist does not equate to blaming women for their systemic rape? I can tell youre rich white and privileged and most of all STUPID for even considering the thought that women are responsible for the patriarchy.

did you not know that women get raped so they can be decapitated? 11000 deaths like these a month

Have you tried speak to a Muslim women before? a woman who believes she will go to hell if she disobeys, a women who legally can get raped and beat by her husband, who can legally, own sex slaves?

Where is your female revolution? all you have done is cut support for them. You're a net negative in this community and if i didnt know any better, id say you're a neonazi tate fan.

[hajihiko]

💕

[snatcher-no-snatching]

I am curious. Do you think that regular Bob would be similar about the whole "have you eaten yet" thing, except meat flavor?

honestly yeah! I think Bob (both of them) is the kind of guy to put a lot of value in food, and making sure someone is well fed is one of his primary ways of showing care.

Bob Prime ofc tends to offer up meat dishes most of the time. within a month of knowing him you'll have eaten more burgers than you ever had in your life previously

[panvani]

And the fucking smugness with which it's always delivered like no one could possibly ever be upset by the glamorization of incest for reasons that aren't reactionary. Completely insane condescending callous disregard for anyone who is actually affected by the shit they're writing theses about