#but i just… he has so far to go and it feels like while wander could be the catalyst for change within hater. he couldn’t feasibly Fix him
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revelboo · 1 day ago
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Greetings, could we please get more of "My Favorite Accident"?
I really love this fanfic!!!
Sure!
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My Favorite Accident Pt 6
TFP Knockout x Reader
• “You’re scaring off the business.” Scowling at you as you wash glasses, you just arch your brows at him. And yeah, he has a point with that look. The guy that had been hurling in a bush when you’d arrived had wandered inside and fell asleep, head on the bar, his toupee long since in the floor, looking like a dead squirrel. And he’s the only holdout, your two other drunks having wandered back home. Or at least somewhere else. For all you know, they’re passed out outside in the gravel, but as long as they’re outside, they’re not your problem.
• “I keep waiting for you to explain the joke,” he mutters, his patience slowly fraying watching you go about your ‘job.’ Because at this point, he’s more angry than anything else. And this has to be a joke, one that’s already run far too long. It’s insulting that you work here. Part of him wanted to just leave you here to figure out your own way home, but he’d stayed out of morbid curiosity and because, after defending you from being groped three times, he’d realized you’re too oblivious to survive without someone watching over you. Feeling someone pinging him, he growls.
• “Bills are no joke,” you say, banging a glass on the bar hard enough that the remaining patron nearly falls off his stool when he startles awake. “Last call.” Tone all saccharine sweetness as he blearily looks around and then struggles to get down and get to the door, legs spread like a man trying to keep his footing on a heaving deck in rough waters. He’s definitely going to go water those poor, dead azaleas again, chunky style. “So, mind explaining why you camped at my home and then stayed here all day? I’m assuming you have some important, secret alien robot agenda. You know, something better to do than slum it with me?”
• “You have no idea,” he grumbles, hesitating as that ping comes again. Dividing his attention between the holomatter avatar and his real body, he hears your disgruntled ‘are you kidding me right now’ as the avatar gets glitchy. And half listening to your tantrum, he answers the ping. “Where are you? Megatron’s hunting for you,” Breakdown’s voice growls at him and he shifts on his shocks. Because if the big boss is on the warpath and needs something, he can’t be kept waiting. Or he’ll take it out on his hide with his big fists.
• Watching him have a conversation with himself, that weird, expressionless avatar staring with dead eyes at nothing. Creepy. Still can’t figure out why he’d hung out with you when he really must have better things to do. You don’t think it’s that he’s lonely. Only that he’s decided you need him to watch after you, though how he’d reached that conclusion, you’re not sure. You’ve done fine on your own for years. You’ll be fine after he gets bored of messing with you.
• “Stall,” he says. “I’m coming.” Aware that he and the avatar are both saying the words when you lean away from him, frowning and he ends the communication. “Sorry, but you’re going to have to find a different ride home. Try not to die while I’m gone,” he adds, glancing around to make sure there’s only the two of you in the bar before letting go of the avatar, hearing you screech about security cameras before he goes. You’ll be fine. After he pacifies Lord Megatron, he can come back. Make sure.
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perseephoneee · 1 day ago
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secret santa [ficmas day 12] [stiles stilinski x afab!reader]
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↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ ficmas 2024
@mayfieldss: Since you're extending ficmas may I request stiles stilinski and secret santa plssssss
author's note: my boyfriend said that if teen wolf had modern slang it would be one of the worst things he'd ever watch
playlist:
buy me presents -- sabrina carpenter
christmas caller -- beach bunny
santa, can't you hear me -- kelly clarkson & ariana grande
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"Why did Lydia think this was a good idea?" Stiles groaned, opening the 'Secret Santa email.' Scott was sitting on his bed doing homework while Stiles debated the merits of ignoring the email. 
"Because she says this is cheaper than us all having to get gifts for each other."
Stiles ignored that comment and opened the email to receive his assignment. He could think of a few different ideas for the various people in his life. Scott was easy; they were best friends. Isaac could get an embroidered scarf that said, 'I'm bitter for no reason.' Derek could get a new personality, although Stiles didn't know how much that would cost. 
He watched the wheel spin on the automated Secret Santa email, and against his best wishes, he got your name. 
"No, no, no," Stiles kept trying to refresh the page, hoping for a different answer. Scott looked up in personality, getting off the bed to see his screen. He started laughing when he saw your name. 
"You're screwed."
"This is awful!" Stiles spun around in his chair. "I can't get the girl I like a gift; she's going to hate it."
"Probably."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're not helpful?" Stiles looked at Scott, raising his brow. Scott patted him on the shoulder. Stiles hit his shoulder, and it quickly devolved into a wrestling match with Stiles in a headlock and Scott getting kicked in the face. Sheriff Stilinski entered a second later. He took one look at the scene and left a second later. 
After Stiles lost in wrestling, they ended up at the mall. They agreed that it was the most likely place to find a gift. Scott had to shop for Isaac, which Stiles was weirdly envying at this moment. 
"Okay, we're going to split up. Meet in an hour at the food court."
"For food?"
"Yes," Stiles sighed. "And to check progress."
"But also for food?" Scott questioned. "I've been craving a corndog."
"Scott, I need you to lock in," Stiles groaned. He had been staring out at the bright expanse of the mall and was already developing a migraine. "We have a mission."
"You have a mission," Scott nudged Stiles with his shoulder. "I'm doing fine."
"I really hate you," Stiles muttered as Scott took off towards whatever he smelled. Likely a pretzel. He was strangely food-motivated. 
Stiles checked out Bath and Body Works first, but after feeling like he would pass out from the smells, he elected to leave. He wandered into a Brandy Melville and got offended by the sizing (or lack thereof). He then sat on a bench outside the darkest clothing store he'd ever seen. Just as Stiles wished for divine intervention, Lydia came into sight. She beelined over to him immediately. 
"Do I want to know why you're here?" she asked, arms crossed. Stiles squinted up at her.
"Because of your stupid Secret Santa and my stupid assignment," Stiles said, sinking further into his bench. Lydia sat down next to him. 
"You got Y/N, didn't you?"
"How–"
"I know things," Lydia pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Stiles glared at her. She crossed her legs, looking over at Stiles. "I'm going to help you because you make me sad."
"Thanks."
"What have you thought of so far?"
Stiles pondered for a second.
"A sexy candle."
"Okay, I'm going to say no to that immediately," Lydia opened her purse, grabbed out a lipgloss, and reapplied it. Stiles had no idea why she needed to reapply it. "Let's go look around at a few places."
Stiles wished for Scott in that moment. Scott didn't stress him out to no end. Lydia dragged him to eleven different stores and shot down almost all of his ideas. He was ready to quit, move to a different state, and change his name in order to avoid disappointing you at Secret Santa. You were too important to him to disappoint. Right as Stiles' legs started hurting, he saw one store that gave him pause. 
"I'm going in there," Stiles announced, ignoring Lydia's protests. It was a traditional gift store with various accessories, gag gifts, home decor, and more. He avoided the seasonal aisle and the stupid kitchen towels with quotes on them to make a beeline for the kids' section, specifically the stuffed animal section. 
He saw a floppy Snoopy and pulled it off the top shelf. Stiles showed Lydia. 
"What do you think?" Stiles asked. He was out of breath from his quick run into the store. "She loves Snoopy; she mentions it whenever there's a Snoopy thing."
Lydia smiled, taking the Snoopy from him. She gave it a few squishes for good measure. 
"It's perfect; nice job, Stiles."
"Thank you," Stiles beamed. He tossed the Snoopy back and forth between his hands. "Who did you get for Secret Santa?"
"Derek."
"Just get him a new personality."
"I hope you know that both you and Y/N said that," Lydia rolled her eyes. Stiles grinned, moving to the cash register to buy his Snoopy. He paid a little extra to get it wrapped (he can't wrap it for his life) and skipped out of the store. Stiles pulled out his phone to check the time, guessing he should probably be catching back up with Scott. He, of course, ran into you at that exact moment. 
Literally ran into it. 
"Hey, Stiles," you laughed, catching him by the shoulders. His cheeks burned red as he saw who it was. 
"Hey!" he grimaced. "What are you doing here?"
"Probably the same as you, Secret Santa shopping," you shrugged. He liked whatever you did with your hair today. However, Stiles has always loved whatever you did. You eyed the bag in his hand. "Did you get something already?"
"Yeah…I had help from Lydia," Stiles scratched the back of his neck. 
"I'll see you around, Stilinski," you punched his shoulder, running off to who knows where. Stiles was still frozen in place a second later. He shook himself out of his stupor, immediately running to the food court to look for Scott. 
~
Scott and Stiles showed up in matching ugly Christmas sweaters to Lydia's Secret Santa party. They were very proud that they found not one but two of them at Goodwill and felt it was a theme to show up in. Lydia was not amused. 
She almost refused to let them in. 
Stiles was excited to see that you were already there. You had on sparkly tights and a sweater dress, and Stiles was once again struck by the thought that you were the prettiest girl in the room. He suddenly felt very stupid in his sweater. You took notice as he approached. 
"Oh, that's hilarious," you laughed, reading his top. It had all the reindeer decorating the tree on top of each other, saying 'Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, on top of Vixen.'
"That's what I thought. Lydia disagrees," Stiles sat down next to you. You curled up your legs underneath you. 
"Lydia is stressed about the party."
"She throws the best parties; why is she stressed?" Stiles saw a platter of cookies out on the coffee table and took one for himself. He offered you half. 
"Probably because you have to constantly be stressed to throw the best parties." You accepted half of his cookie.
"Touche."
Stiles was gleeful that he could talk to you until the present reveals started. Everyone else showed up, and at forty-five minutes past the hour, Lydia called everyone to attention to exchange gifts. Suddenly, Stiles felt very nervous. 
It was easy for him to get caught up in everyone else's excitement and forget about his own doom, so when he received his gift (some nice plaid shirts from Allison), he got all clammy as he handed you yours. Your eyes lit up as you saw the bag. 
"I knew it was for me," you whispered, recognizing the bag from the mall. Stiles shrugged, wringing his hands. You unwrapped it carefully and then let out a squeal of delight as you saw the Snoopy. Stiles let out a sigh of relief. 
"I know you love Snoopy."
"Not just any Snoopy, Joe Cool Snoopy," you grinned, hugging the plush to your chest. "He's really cool."
"That's why they call him Joe Cool," Stiles answered. Lydia gave him a subtle nod from the other side of the room. Everyone else got to open their gifts, which is when Lydia brought out the champagne she stole from her Mom's stash. Very quickly, everyone got a pleasant buzz that only made the conversation louder. You nudged Stiles and gestured towards the kitchen, Snoopy still in hand. He followed after you. 
You launched yourself at him as soon as you got in the kitchen. 
"The gift is perfect," you mumbled, voice blocked by his shirt. Stiles thought you smelled like peppermint. You pulled away to look at him. "Thank you."
"A-Anything for you," Stiles stuttered, struck by how close you guys were. You didn't seem to notice or mind. 
"I have a gift for you."
"You didn't get me in Secret Santa," Stiles asked, confused. You just shook your head. 
"A gift of my own volition."
You leaned up and kissed him, lips still tasting of champagne. Stiles could do nothing but melt into you. He was dumbstruck when you parted. 
"Merry Christmas, Stiles," you hummed. Stiles grinned, kissing you again. 
"Merry Christmas, Y/N."
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giddlygoat · 2 months ago
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hater has disturbing reoccurring dreams about wander crawling inside his ribcage that always have him waking up in a cold sweat [they just feel too real and hater can’t place why]. wander has reoccurring dreams of hater ceremoniously destroying him with the Disaster Blaster and it’s the one dream he doesn’t eagerly blab to sylvia about because he doesn’t know how to tell her that it never feels like a nightmare. soooo is anyone else sick in the head or is it just me
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alexiroflife · 5 months ago
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jjk men reactions & aftercare when you use your safeword…
headcanons list
MDNI, highly suggestive content, smut themes, overstimulation, mentions of discomfort/pain, spanking (suguru), etc.
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gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna
-> all i could think of when writing safe words was this from that one rick & morty episode please help
satoru gojo:
satoru gojo, before his relationship with you, was a full-fletched virgin.
while people close to him like suguru, before he left jujutsu tech, or shoko would have been able to tell anyone this fact after having known him for so long and so well, in satoru's later years, he finds that everyone assumes he has a rather promiscuous past before settling down with you.
he understands. quite frankly, it doesn't surprise him at all. he's a flirty personality with a sickenly gorgeous face, with the confidence and arrogance of a well-seasoned slut. he does not exude the energy of a person who went twenty-four years of his life without having sex with anyone. he had received and given oral maybe a few times in his early twenties, but he had never gone beyond that.
you're his first at twenty-four and you're his one and only from then one.
despite his lack of physical experience, satoru, unsurprisingly, is incredibly skilled with the use of his body. there's truly nothing that gojo can not do perfectly. he's seen enough, studied the physical reactions you have to him even when you're just speaking, knows you enough to treat you well without having had to fuck a million people beforehand.
and because you are satoru's one and only, he fucking worships you. he gets drunk off of you. he goes insane for you every single time the two of you are together intimately. while his stamina is incredibly high, his desperation proceeds him and his ability to maintain control is drastically lacking whenever he's got your pretty legs quivering over his head as his tongue licks greedy stripes over your puffy clit.
satoru is spoiled. he gets what he wants and does what he wants when he wants it, and he absolutely expects to get exactly what he wants from you when the two of you are in bed, which is to make you as much of a mess for him as he is for you. he wants you shaking, he wants you begging, he wants you crying for more as you struggle to handle just how good he makes you feel, and every single time, he succeeds.
the thought alone of pleasing you renders him dizzy, and his mind often wanders in the middle of meetings when he's supposed to be focused on the course schedule for the first years over the upcoming next few months. satoru is completely and utterly whipped for you, and with his greedy, mindless desire to hear you moaning for him into the early hours of the morning, he can tend to get a little out of hand.
satoru has never made you feel any less than heavenly, any less than adored, any less than cherished. he satisfies you in indescribable ways, and you're admittedly as head over heels for him as he is for you. he's soft, but then he's wild, whiny, relentless, sloppy, yet always so damn good. he pushes you to just the right limits, drawing out physical reactions you hadn't even known to be possible before him, and talking you through it all. though he's always on the brink of going too far, he never has.
so that is why you are close to panicking now that your legs and your throbbing, overstimulated pussy have gone numb with a rather unfamiliar tingling sensation.
you don't even think you can see anymore. you're long past an acceptable point of lack of functionality, and you can't even think. you hear satoru's voice murmuring as it always does, babbling on in his far-gone state as he pulls you closer for another round. the two of you started this when the sun was out, midday, and now, the sky is pitch black and the clock reads almost midnight, not that you can even tell.
you can feel satoru everywhere, hands flying to any patch of skin he can possibly find, yet the sensation is detached from you. you take a few seconds before realizing that you can hardly breathe, and your body is so spent you can barely move.
satoru, above you, is gone. exceedingly pussy drunk, having came more times than he could count in your mouth, on your stomach, on your back, inside your cunt, and yet he still seeks more. it's like his mind and body are on autopilot, searching for you blindly without any indication of how far he has gone or when he should stop. he's just as fucked out in the brain as you, but the only difference is that he somehow has more energy to spare. his dick is somehow still jumping to life, and you suddenly remember that this is satoru gojo you're talking about.
on the battlefield and in bed, he's a monster, unlike any other.
"c'mere, pretty, just-just one more, gotta feel you," he rambles, panting heavily as he tugs you closer and roams his crystal blue eyes over your trembling body. his sense of logic is skewed, the flags are not registering. he only sees you, and he is eager. he's so in love, so intoxicated by you, he's lost his damn mind.
"y'so gorgeous for me, baby, such a good pretty girl. my good pretty girl. love this pretty girl's pussy, so-so good for me. so good."
and there he goes, on and on about how he wants you, what you do to him, how perfect you are, and you can't even hear it. your ears are ringing. where the hell even are you?
satoru's moving to caress over your body, detailing the softness of your soaked skin beneath his palms before his hands meet your soaked cunt again. he's prying at your weak thighs, ghosting his fingers over your clit hungrily, and the second you feel the tip of his finger so much as graze your bundle of nerves, you're momentarily revived. you're gasping and pushing him away, crawling back.
satoru watches you, brows drawing together. he goes to reach for you again, but then you hastily breathe out. "purple! purple, purple, purple," you wail, body twitching as you curl in on yourself.
the moment your safeword falls on satoru's ears, he's snapping out of it. his blown pupils suddenly shrink and he reconnects with the world around him, with you, the way your heart races, the way you can hardly speak, the way you can't even lift your head from the pillow.
he looks down at the drenched state of your sheets, then back up at you, shaking, and he's finally back.
"baby," he coaxes in concern, crawling up to meet you. you don't even open your eyes when he hovers over you. you simply squirm, murmuring nonsense as chills rack you and your feet kick out. you're absolutely done. "fuck, baby. hey, you there with me? (y/n)?" he cups his hand over your hot cheek, worried eyes taking in the sight of you. he's never seen you like this before, and it's jarring. how long have you even been like this? did he seriously not notice that you had been spent for a while?
your hands go to push at his chest, but he stops you gently, holding your wrist and hushing you. "it's okay, princess, you're okay. you're alright... fuck, baby, look at you. you can't even understand me, can you?"
as expected, you don't show any indication that you can hear him. instead, your body slowly melts back into the sheets as though registering the shift in satoru's mannerisms and tone. you relax, slumping, and satoru almost thinks you've passed out.
"uh uh. don't pass out on me, pretty. come on," he urges you gently, patting your cheek. you groan and stir, at least showing him that you are still conscious. "okay, that's good, baby. that's a good girl, come here."
he pulls you into his arms, enveloping you in his safe embrace. your cheek falls against his bare pectoral and you hum, nuzzling into him as he holds your head close, petting over your hair and watching you carefully. satoru struggles to gather himself as well as he holds you, breathing heavily and twitching against your body whilst bringing himself back to reality.
you continue to rub your face against him, and he looks down at you, brows knitted together. fuck, he feels awful. he hadn't meant to push you this far.
"(y/n)?" he calls your name again, a rather rare occurrence. you take a moment to hum drowsily after a few minutes have passed. "can you hear what i'm saying?"
"...mhm," you hum again brokenly.
"yeah? you can?"
this time you only nod, and he sighs. "are you okay, pretty? are you hurt?"
"mm-mm."
"you sure?"
"y-yeah, tor..."
you don't even finish his name as you sink further into him. satoru kisses your cheek, then your temple. "okay, i get it now. i did too much? i went too far?"
"mhm," you whimper, and his arms tighten around you.
"i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, i should've known better," he apologizes profusely. "i got carried away, i wasn't even thinking. i wasn't even there myself- but that's no excuse. i'm sorry. stay with me, pretty."
slowly, your arms slide to wrap around your boyfriend's neck, and he melts like sap into you, cooing gently and showering you with kisses. he can feel your rapid heartbeat against his chest, your soft pants fanning on his cheek, your abdomen tightening and releasing with your shivers.
"you're so sensitive. i got you good, huh?" he observes. "i'll go easier, next time, pretty. okay? you did so good for me. you always do such a good job. just keep those pretty eyes closed and rest. i'll clean you up in a bit."
you nod meekly once more, cuddling impossibly further into him. you doze to the sound of his assurances, of his tender voices telling you that you’re safe, that satoru’s got you, that he’s so proud of you. he lets you rest before he has to wake you again to help you get ready for bed and to clean you properly.
he loves you so much. so so much, and despite him going overboard, his heart swells with relief at the fact that you feel comfortable enough to tell him to stop.
suguru geto: suguru is truly a kind and loving man. he's gentle and meticulous in the way he cares for you. he always makes sure that you have everything you need and that you're cared for the way you deserve to be cared for. and in bed, he's almost teasing with the way he loves you. he's sweet, keeping his searing lips to your ear as he floods your brain with declarations of future promises, of making you happy, of practically laying down his life if it means listening to you call his name over and over.
he's got a mouth on him, one full of filthy affections, and he gets you off on the sultry sweetness of his sugary tone constantly. he'll be knuckles deep inside you, kissing your cheek almost innocently as he murmurs seductively to you his devotions.
"you squeeze me so nice, sweet girl. you look so fucking beautiful like this. that's right, angel. feel it. feel my fingers stretching you out so good. fuck, i could finger you like this every day for the rest of my life. would you like that, angel? hmmm?"
he always makes sure you respond, as well. he's pulling orgasm after orgasm from you and urging you to speak while doing so, no matter how far gone you are. he's not satisfied until your angelic little voice is breathing out to answer him unsteadily, your words warming his heart and hardening his dick without fail.
nevertheless, despite suguru's generosity, he has the tendency to be so mean when he's agitated.
suguru has a pretty terrible attitude, and though it's not often on display when he is irritated, particularly by something you say, he's an entirely different beast.
his honeyed tone still remains when he punishes you, yet it's laced around far less pretty words. he teases, mocks, judges, and at times, it's enough to make you cry or second guess yourself if you were to hear him go on like this in any other setting.
suguru's presence is incredibly domineering aside from his normally gentle demeanor. when push comes to shove, he is still a man capable of murder, a man harboring the hatred of an entire species, and a man who manages to uphold his connections and his legacy through his cult by means of manipulation.
suguru is nice, yes, but he's also kind of a bully.
the dark-haired man doesn't find himself taking out his irritations on you often. he only deems it necessary to do so when his irritation is inspired by you, and while he has attitude issues, you mirror his tenfold... and he does not tolerate you doing so one bit.
now, you know suguru very well and are very accustomed to how he handles you when he's pissed off, but tonight, he's showing no mercy.
he's had you splayed over his lap for what feels like forever, your ass pointed upward and your wrists bound before you as you muffle your whimpers as best as you possibly can. you don't even remember what you had said or done to get suguru so worked up, but you know that your ass is stinging horribly and is likely marked up with several red angry hand prints, yet suguru is seemingly still far from finished with you.
you've tried crawling away multiple times, but his strong hands always pull you right back, keeping your back arched and your ass up for his access.
"don't cry now, angel," he says, voice dark as his hands roam over your ass. you tense as he gathers a handful of the fat into his fingers, squeezing tightly before raising his hand to smack down hard again with no warning. you lurch forward with a sob, your legs trembling harshly. "you weren't crying earlier when you were running your mouth so much, were you?"
"sugu," you hiccup, desperate for a break. "p-please..."
"nuh uh. you can't 'sugu' you're way out of this one," geto says, eyes heavy and dark as they look over the marks he has left behind. "after all, you're the one who wanted this."
"n-no," you deny pitifully.
"no?" he bites down hard on his teeth as he smacks you again, watching your plump flesh jiggle with the motion. he groans under his breath, sliding his hands over you again as you cry. "really? i could have sworn by the way you were talking to me, this was the only outcome you were looking for."
you can hardly hold yourself up anymore. your face falls flat on the bed as your body shakes with your laments. you don't know what number of spanks you're even on. was there ever a set count to begin with?
you try to reach a hand back, but you forget that your wrists are tied before you, leaving you with absolutely no defenses and suguru with the upper hand.
suguru roughly grabs a handful of your hair and pulls you up, looking over your tear-stained face with a quirked brow. "what's the matter? can't handle your punishment?" he taunts, eying you intensely.
you sniffle, eyes unfocused. your lips part to answer him, but he beats you to it, landing two more smacks to your backside, and you're seeing stars. the strike of his hand is starting to burn, stinging agonizingly over your skin. your ass is buzzing, throbbing with its own bruise-induced heartbeat.
you feel more tears break past your eyes and your brows scrunch up. "that won't do, angel," suguru says. "i must've gone too soft on you."
who goes to land one last strike, and you can't take it anymore. you're kicking away as best as you can, panting with your cries as your voice goes ragged.
"rose!!" you call, completely beyond yourself. "please, no more, please- i'm sorry! rose!"
suguru freezes, his hardened facade washing away. he breaks past the air of anger that he's been submerged in and sees the way you cry as he holds you up, your pearly tears dribbling past your chin as you continue to beg him to have mercy on you under your trembling breath.
"shit," he curses, slowly releasing your hair and easing your head back down. "i hear you, angel. loud and clear."
he hastily undoes your bind and tosses it to the side, setting your wrists free. you quiver, sinking over his lap. suguru catches a glimpse of the marks he has left once more, watching the blooming of purples and reds spread over your poor bum. he hadn't realize how bad it looked before, but he sees now just how hard he's been hitting you.
"fuck, angel, i'm sorry. i'm sorry."
his hand runs over the small of your back and he ducks down to the side of your face, which is still concealed as you cry. his brows curl and his heart lurches forward, his touch upon you now soft and delicate.
"(y/n)?"
"why'd y'spank me so hard," he hears you question into the blankets, speaking unstably amid your tears. suguru's heart drops then and there, and his entire demeanor shifts upon seeing what he's done to you.
"oh, sweet girl, i'm so fucking sorry. i'm sorry," he whispers to you soothingly, attempting to calm you. you're a wreck over his lap, shaking violently. "i don't know what happened. i don't know why i did that. i'm sorry, baby. i'm sorry."
he hisses as his thumb ghosts over his handprints, and even that has you jumping suddenly. "okay, i won't touch. i'm- shit, i really marked you up. that looks like it hurts so bad, angel, i'm sorry. i was being a dick. i don't know what came over me."
suguru slowly helps you up when you don't reply to him, and once he's got you slightly upright, you fall into his chest as you sob. his arms wrap over your upper and lower back securely, face burrowing into your shoulder. his long hair tickles your bare skin gently, his comforting scent consuming you, and you are reminded of your boyfriend's sympathy once more.
"a-are you really t-that mad?" you hiccup into his shoulder, dampening his skin with your tears.
"no," he tells you. "no, i'm not mad anymore. that wasn't- i just got carried away," he repeats. "you're okay, angel. you're perfect. i let my emotions get in the way too much."
"fe-lt like you hated me..."
"what?" he frowns, pulling back to look you in the eye. your red eyes meet his sorrowfully, and you sniff, searching for the kindness of those hazel eyes you so adore. you rediscover it the moment you look at him. "hate you? (y/n), no. don't say that. i could never hate you. i love you," he brushes your tears from your eyes and you whimper. "you're my sweet girl. my perfect angel. i would never," he says gravely. "i can't believe i made you feel that way."
"you spank hard," you pout, and he kisses your puffy lips, smoothing his hand over you hair and stroking your neck.
"i see that now. i'm sorry. i won't do that again," he kisses you again. "i'm sorry. i hate to see you cry like this. this isn't how i should make you cry."
suguru looks around and locates the bottle of water he left on the dresser prior. he leans forward, careful as to not agitate you, and grabs hold of it. "here," he unscrews the bottle around your waist and lifts it to your lips. "hydrate, baby. you need it."
you pucker your lips around the bottle as he eases it upward, easing the fluid into your mouth as you drink. "that's my girl."
once you're done, he leans down to put the bottle on the floor and slowly guides you off of him and onto your stomach after kissing your lips once more.
"what do you want, angel? ice? you want me to massage it?" he asks you, craning down by your ear as you press your cheek to the pillow and look at him tiredly.
"both," you say softly.
"yes ma'am. i'll be right back."
suguru spends the rest of the night treating you, rolling his cool hands ever so carefully over your bruises, cupping your ass, and massaging out the stings to increase blood flow. your brows arch and you moan into the pillow as he does so.
"i know, i know," he murmurs. "promise, i'll make it better. try to calm down for me."
he's kissing softly over the handprints, whispering endless apologies before applying ice every now and then. eventually, the pain begins to calm and subside as your senses dull, and suguru rubs circles over your waist.
"sugu?" you mutter after an extended period of silence.
the dark-haired man ducks down, gazing over your now serene features. "hm?"
he sees the corners of your lips pull upward subtly as you close your eyes. "you're mean, you know that?"
he puff of amused air blows through his nose as he nods, stroking your temple. "i know. i'm the meanest, angel. i'm sorry."
kento nanami:
kento nanami is a man among men, a perfect gentleman, the blueprint for all partners. he loves you dearly, and he takes any chance he can to show you or remind you of this love he harbors for you.
nanami treats you as though you are the only womann to grace this planet, and in many ways, that is exactly how he sees you. he dotes on you and makes you feel as though you are a queen among peasants, sending you flowers nearly every day, writing you sweet letters, cooking you dinner, keeping his hand to your waist to guide you close to him when you walk around in public, cooking your meals, and buying you every possible thing you could ever even mention wanting.
he's an angel. he's your dream man, and he's all yours and you're all his.
when kento is intimate with you, he likes to take his time. he likes to drag out every second of his fingers touching you and his lips ghosting over your body. he likes to admire you, every single part down to the last detail. he is never in any rush, and why should he be? why would he want this to end? you're his lovely woman, and you deserve every second of pleasure he has to offer you.
he handles you so lovingly, holding your gaze and intertwining his fingers with yours as he strokes into you deeply, a haze of raw passion capturing you both as you breathe into each other, fall into one another's longing gazes, and intertwine like pretty strokes of paint mixing into one another on a canvas.
he's enamored by you, kissing over your neck and listening to your pulse against his skin as he makes love to you, keeping you close, flush to him. tendrils of soft blonde hair sprinkle over your forehead as his lips meet yours, bodies rocking passionately. you can feel the fondness in the way he presses into you, the way he holds you, and you feel so feather light as your head floats into the clouds and heaven encaptures you in the bliss of his hold.
nanami is afraid of hurting you when you have sex. he tends to always handle you with care solely because of this fear of his, and while he has his moments of letting just a little bit more loose, of handling you just a little bit rougher, of pushing in just a little bit deeper, he doesn't want to overwhelm you to the point where you are in pain.
you, of course, spur him on and encourage him to let go. you don't believe that nanami would ever hurt you, or at least do so to the point of irreversible damage, but he still gives you a safe word to use for any time you may feel more sensitive than normal or need a break or simply want him to stop because he's making you uncomfortable. you never thought that you would need such a thing with him, but you had unfortunately been wrong.
it isn't even nanami's fault, per say. you like to push yourself more than nanami really approves, and while you can handle it just fine, you find a moment when you overestimate yourself.
you've been riding kento at his desk chair, your hands gripping his shoulders as his hands clutch your hips. his head is tossed back, normally neatly combed haired tousled messily, and his chocolate eyes drink you in through heavy lids. a chorus of hushed moans leave your lips as you work yourself down onto him, rolling your hips, grinding over him, and sliding up and down swiftly.
the blonde's lashes flutter as he watches you, a sight so beautiful and a sensation so purely exquisite that he can not bear to look away.
you lean down to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your chest to his unbuttoned dress shirt. his hands run over your back on instinct, eyes falling closed as he pants into your shoulder.
"ken," you pur into his ear. "fuck up into me, please..."
and normally kento would think on it more, but hell, you just feel too good for him to deny such a polite request. he obliges, gripping your hips and holding you down, planting his feet securely into the carpet and sheathing his throbbing length upward and into your welcoming, gummy walls.
"oh, sweetheart," he groans, wrapping his arms around your waist and burrowing his nose into the crook of your neck with furrowed brows. "you feel so perfect like this."
"fuckkk, ken," you whine.
after a while, you push yourself down at a faster pace, attempting to catch up with his strokes and speed him up. kento grunts, holding you tighter and understanding the message as he thrusts up into you faster.
soon, the sound of his hips slapping into your ass lifts into the air throughout his home office, and you're whining into him, rutting yourself down with him.
nanami's groaning into you, pace a bit wilder as he mimics your behavior. he's got a hand slid up your neck and into your hair as the other holds your waist down, no longer allowing you to move the way you had before as his thrusts proceed.
you're squelching around him, moaning prettily and growing louder by the second until nanami shifts slightly, sitting up straighter and holding you still as he fucks up into you.
he's rougher, as you had physically and verbally requested of him. while this isn't the first time he's handled you a bit harder, it's the first time you feel the weight of his tip bruise your insides with his position, his speed, and his access.
you gasp, breath hitching in your throat as pleasure rather quickly transitions into discomfort, and you squirm. you want to take it, you love taking him so much, but the longer he pulls you further into the harsh push of his dick into your cervix, the more painful it begins to feel.
you grip into nanami's hair, squeezing the muscles in your face as you breathe out heavily. it only takes a few more thrusts that slam into you way too harshly before you tap against his back.
"ah- ken, ken, hold on- mm- yellow!"
nanami stops even before the word leaves your mouth, pulling you off of him with haste as you wince. he sets you back down on his thighs, and you can feel his length twitching against your ass as he looks over you with pinched brows.
he looks so pretty, still thoroughly consumed with lust, captured by worry for your well-being. his hands remain on your waist as he looks over you sternly. "tell me where sweetheart. how did i hurt you?"
you already feel bad as your walls clench around nothing, rather disappointed in yourself. you tremble slightly, looking down. "sorry- i just... it just started hurting for a sec."
"i was going too roughly?" he asks you for clarification, warm brown hues of care looking up at you. he looks torn, devastated that he had broken the one promise he had made to himself about harming you in such a vulnerable state.
"it wasn't you, ken, i didn't think it would hurt that much," you say dejectedly, a tad woozy from the way you had just been handled. it wasn't as though you didn't enjoy it, your body had just reacted differently and reminded you of your limits with taking ken in such a way.
"of course it was me, honey, i'm not sure what you mean," he says softly, his thumb smoothing over your spine. "i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i never meant to hurt you. i must have allowed myself to get too worked up."
"it's okay, ken," you shush him, taking his face gently in your hands. he gazes at you, frustrated with himself but eyes so full of love for you, the darkness in his eyes still swimming about. "you always tell me to reel it in, but you just make me feel so good. i always want more of you. i pushed a little too hard."
"honey," nanami begins, taking one of your wrists in his veiny hand and turning to press a kiss to your palm. "i still would never blame you in this situation. i know better. i apologize sincerely. how badly does it hurt?"
"...it's not that bad, ken. it was just a sting."
"it doesn't matter," he shakes his head. "i think that's enough intimacy for today. i can not stand the thought of hurting you any further."
you give him a sad look. "but it wasn't all your fault, ken," you frown.
nanami smiles at you softly and leans in to press a long, gentle kiss to your lips. he pulls away from you and meets your gorgeous eyes. "i love you, sweetheart," he declares so warmly, so honestly and you return the sentiment without a second thought, heart thrumming.
"i love you more."
"let me run a bath for you, okay? then after, we can relax and order some food. i can give you a nice massage, too. how does that sound?"
"...can i massage you too?"
nanami laughs slightly. "darling, i'm not the one who got hurt."
"i don't care. i wanna help you relax too. you always have so much tension."
"i'm relaxed any time i'm with you. and you certainly were helping me relax a few minutes ago. perhaps, a bit too much."
you pout and he kisses you again, his soft lips warm and enticing against your own. "ken," you murmur against his lips as he draws himself back, rubbing his palm over your spine and sliding your shirt back down from its scrunched state.
"yes, my love?"
"i still want you."
he gives you a firm, warning look. "(y/n), i said that's enough. you need to rest a bit. you just said that you have the tendency to push yourself when it comes to sex."
"i know, but," you push your bottom lip out and lean back up against his chest, arms draping over his shoulders again. "it doesn't have to be sex. you can just... eat me out."
you feel nanami's chest stutter against you as he breathes out heavily. "you're playing a dangerous game, you know that?"
"please?" you beg, dragging your nose against his neck. "you're always gentle. and it feels so good... all you have to do is hold me down, i won't get hurt in any way with your tongue on me, i swear."
a groan rumbles in nanami's chest and you can feel his dick twitch back to life against you. you smile lazily, leaning back to look him in the eye. "pleaseee?"
"only if you behave," he accepts, raising his brows. "i'm serious. i will go the pace i want to go, and you'll take it. slowly."
you bite the inside of your lip and nod, a pretty smile gracing your face. nanami hums, curving his hand over the back of your head and bringing you to his lips again.
"what am i going to do with you?"
choso kamo:
your brown-haired boyfriend is new to a plethora of human emotions and habits, yet sex is one thing he adjusts to rather eagerly and skillfully thanks to your influence.
choso is ever so inquisitive, seeking to explore every part of you so that he can ingrain your body and its incredible functions into his mind, so he can adapt, so he can improve, and you can confidently say that he proceeds to do so with each passing moment he studies, loves, and cares for you.
choso gets pretty flustered by you easily. you introduce him to not only a world of your love and affection, but a world of vulnerability, pleasure, and sensual exploration. he learns fast, the goal of making you happy driving him forward into picking up on the things you show him incredibly swiftly.
he's so handsy with you, unsure of how to properly convey all that you make him feel so he frequently clobbers you, enveloping you, consuming you in a needy daze, repetitively chanting about how he loves you and how beautiful you are, and how amazing you make him feel, how he never wants to let you go. he's pathetically obsessed with you, longing for your touch at any given moment yet he always allows you to initiate your intimacy first before he completely drowns in you. he's still working on managing himself around you as well as his own urges to refrain from acting out of line, being too forward, or misreading situations. he wants to be perfect for you, and never in your relationship does choso ever want to misstep or misread what you want.
getting him to vocalize when and how he wants you is one thing, but once you've started, sending him a text about how you need him, or running your hand down his thigh a little closer to his crotch underneath the table, or giving him that certain look in your eye that can only mean one thing, then he's completely and utterly unraveling at the very second you give him the green light.
choso's sloppy and uncoordinated but it doesn't matter and he doesn't care because all he's after is you, and when he has you, his brain goes numb, his hands, his dick, his everything are acting with a mind of their own.
the two of you are hot gasps and nasty sloppy noises as the purple eyed man above you pleads for you, though you're right there, aching for more until he can't even breathe.
you think choso is so beautiful like this, lips parted and brows curled as though he's going to cry from the euphoria. his brown hair falls over his shoulders and sticks to his forehead, free from the updo that he always wears, and for someone who can manipulate the blood in his body, he is beet red in the face as he watches the way he disappears into you.
choso would never hurt you. not in a million years. he would die before he hurt you, standing in front of oncoming traffic and sacrificing himself for the sake of your life.
therefore, when his crooked fingers are rocketing into your sopping walls as you cream over and over on his three digits, his lips slurping over your clit with your fingers lace into his hair and tugging at his scalp, he doesn't expect you to stop him.
he's only thinking of how you taste so sweet on his tongue, how your gorgeous pussy makes that squelching noise the deeper he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, and god, the way his dick twitches every time you pull at his hair- he can hardly tell if you're trying to yank him away or to pull him closer at this point, but he's not even thinking about that. he's not thinking at all.
he’s groaning and humming into you, whining in between breaths about how he just can’t get enough, but his fingers are beginning to thrust too fast, too far inside of your walls.
his noises shift between guttural, deep growls and shaky, heavy-pitched breaths. though you love every sound, you begin to feel yourself rejecting the feeling as it grows far too swift, too hard, too overpowering.
"c-cho," you whimper, your thighs moving to push you away, but he keeps you down with his free forearm to your lower abdomen. "baby, i c-can't- ah!"
his noises rise over your pleads and he doesn't stop, and you can feel an uncomfortable knot building in your stomach in addition to the ache inside you. you wince, the overlapping sensations proving to be way too much at once.
your hand pushes at his forehead rather harshly. "cho-! ngh- pinaepple!"
choso's brows twitch as he processes what you just said, his mind still not completely comprehending, but after a second or two, he rips himself away as though he's burned you.
panic swirls in his violet eyes, his saliva and your slick shining over his chin up to his nose. he looks up at you over your thighs, but you don't see because you're leaning your head back in relief and breathing heavily.
"did you just say your safeword?" he asks in a rush, ensuring that he has registered your words properly.
you nod stiffly, furrowing your brows. "y-yeah, m'sorry," you breathe. "i couldn't take anymore."
choso's pupils shrink as though you've just told him that all life is ending as you know it. his heart hammers through his chest, and he instantly peels away from your now cold sex to swipe his fingers on the bed, ridding himself of any reminder that he has pushed you too much.
he crawls up to see your face, caging his arms over you. his muscles tense as he looks over your expression, brows knitted and eyes glossy. you eventually open your eyes again, having sensed his presence over you.
"(y/n), i'm sorry," he apologizes so earnestly like it's the very last thing he'll ever say to you. he's suddenly deadly serious, firm, and ashamed of himself. "you've never used our word before. i... i didn't realize what i was doing to you."
"cho," you say his name softly. he tilts his head further down to you, his brows curling in sadness. "it's okay, baby. stuff like this happens."
"what do you mean?" he frowns, hand coming over your cheek the moment yours lifts to hold his. "this has never happened to us before. i'm not sure how i let it, either."
"i just mean in general," you clarify softly. you can feel your eyes growing heavier and your speech slurring. choso notices as well, keeping his hand on your face so that you remain with him, cognizant of his gaze and his touch.
"this has happened to you before?" he asks, slightly horrified and simultaneously agitated by the very idea. "when? with who?"
"baby, i'm trying to tell you mistakes happen," you laugh softly. "no, this hasn't happened to me before, but i'm saying we have a safe word for a reason for when these things do happen."
"oh," he murmurs. "but i never wanted you to actually have to use it..."
"well, how else would we learn about each other if we didn't run into things like this?" you smile warmly at him. choso's face blooms with further heat, humming to himself as he looks at you.
"tell me."
"tell you what?"
"tell me exactly what it was that i did. i'll be sure not to make the same mistake twice. i swear. i'm so sorry for hurting you," he declares, determined.
"it wasn't that bad, love," you assure him.
"i still want to know. i need to know."
"it was just the way you were using your fingers, and i was already super sensitive."
"...so, you don't want me to use my fingers on you anymore?"
"oh, god, no," you say, and you can see choso visibly relax.
"oh... okay, good. i would have stopped if you wanted me to, but i was hoping that wasn't it. i love fingering you."
your tired smile spreads as you lift your other hand to curl into his hair, scratching gently. his lashes flutter, heavy eyes matching your own. "i love when you finger me too, cho. just maybe next time, be gentler... only because you'd already made me cum so much. my body was just tired and i don't think it could keep up anymore."
he nods, taking in every word you say. "i understand. that makes sense, i'm sorry. i should have checked on you and asked."
"it's okay, baby, you don't have to keep apologizing."
"but i just can't stomach that i-"
"it's. okay," you whisper slowly, pulling him down to meet your lips with his in a delicate peck where you can smell yourself on his breath.
he sighs when you pull away, face twisted irritably. "are you sure, baby? you're not just saying that?"
"of course," you say softly. "it was just one little thing. that's all. i'm okay."
choso almost looks reluctant to accept your dismissal of the situation. he somehow feels like he needs to be reprimanded more for it, and you can tell simply by the way he stares at you.
"cho," you giggle. "stop, i told you i'm fine."
"i know. you're too sweet to me, (y/n)," he murmurs. "i wanna make it up to you. can i? is there anything i can do to make you feel better? please tell me."
you swoon internally at just how much cares. "can you just cuddle me please?"
"yes. absolutely, yes."
the brunette moves to kiss your forehead, then helps ease your legs over so that you are settled comfortably over the bed. before he lays down, he is reminded of the dampness beneath you, coating your inner thighs and creeping up to your belly button.
"love, do you have a towel?" he asks you gently as you start to curl over to him. "i need to clean you up, don't i? i made kind of a mess."
"later, cho," you mumble tugging at his bicep. "just want to be close to you right now."
he's torn momentarily. he's always quick to cater to what you ask of him, to just silently yet happily comply with whatever you need, but he knows that the second he gathers you in his arms, sleep is going to take over the both of you as it normally does after sex. the last thing he wants is for you to be laying in a sticky pool of your own arousal. he imagines you waking up uncomfortable, and it doesn't sit well with him.
"hold on a minute," he tells you. you look up curiously as he kisses your cheek and slides his arm slowly from you to stand. your hand slips into his before you release him reluctantly.
"cho?" you call him with big eyes, and the brunette almost gives in right there.
"just one more second. i remember us always doing this, and i don't want to neglect you now."
"...but-"
"one second. i promise, love."
you sigh and accept it. the moment you say okay, choso is practically sprinting to your bathroom and back with a towel. you can't help but smile gently as he hurriedly, yet gently, cleans you dry, holding your legs in his palm and easing them to the side when he's done.
"do you have to pee?" he asks you rather bluntly, gazing up at you as he folds the towel and places it on the ground.
you groan at the thought. "yeah, but i don't feel like it."
"that's okay. i'll take you."
"to pee?" you quirk a brow.
"yes?" he answers as though you questioning the thought is absurd. "i don't want you to go yourself. you're tired."
"yeah, but then that means you'll just be listening to me."
"(y/n), i've seen every part of you. i don't care about watching you pee."
"why would you want to hear or watch me in the first place?" you whine.
"to make sure it doesn't hurt you when you do."
"cho, baby, you did not hurt me that bad. oh my god," you run a hand over your face and shake your head with your laughter.
"i just want to make sure you're alright. i can close my eyes if it helps," he says stubbornly, leaning down to gather you slowly into his arms. your arms go to wrap over his neck as he lifts you up and walks you off.
"it's honestly fine whatever you do, cho, i just think it's a little funny."
"to worry?"
"nooo," you sigh, knocking your head against his shoulder. "nevermind."
choso responds with a peck to your head before sitting you down in the restroom. once the both of you are settled, you're back in bed under the covers. choso holds you with your back to his chest, palming soothingly over your abdomen as you drift off to sleep with the feeling of his chest rising and falling against you.
"(y/n)," cho's voice rumbles into you. you hum contentedly half asleep, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "thank you for being honest with me. i love you. i love you so much."
"mmm. i love you too, cho. thank you for always listening to me."
toji fushiguro:
toji, mentally and physically, can not get enough of you, especially after long stressful days on the job. when he comes home from work and is greeted by the sight of your pretty face after having had guns pointed at his head, blood spilling on his face, and the weight of exhaustion and sore muscles hanging on his back, seeing you is like seeing the gates of heaven after death.
the assassin is always so quick to fall over you, pressing you to him and smothering you in long, deep, hot kisses as he walks you back or picks you up to carry you to your bedroom, or to the shower, or hell, even to the countertop in the kitchen.
toji fucking loves being inside you. he loves tasting you on his lips, feeling you clench around his fingers, watching you squeeze over his heavy cock as he sinks into you with a guttural groan and a devilish smirk. he loves the way your soft skin feels beneath his calloused hands, he loves licking the salty-sweet sweat from your neck as you toss your head back, he loves the sound of your pussy gushing around him with each slow stroke that inevitably transitions into ruthless pounding.
god, he loves fucking you as much as he loves you, and the moment he's got you in his arms with a week of stress pent up within his chest, he's pouring all if it straight into the way he fucks you, and he gets lost in the euphoria that is you.
you're such a pretty thing beneath him, so small compared to his bulking frame, and he is obsessed with it. one second, he's stroking in leisurely, absorbing every second of the way he slides his girth between your gummy walls, soaking up the way you greedily drag him back in with each thrust. and the next, you're in a mating press and he's grunting into your mouth through a sloppy lip lock, slamming in rhythmically, stilling his cock inside you for a second longer each time so that you can feel just had deep he is, just how deliciously he's stretching you open. hell, he doesn't even know when or how it happens. he just knows that you have him whipped, and his stress melts away with each drag of his seed he pumps into you after the umpteenth round.
"fuckin' hell, doll, keep drainin' my cock just like that. thaaaaat's it, pretty baby- hah, fuck- take me so deep inside this perfect lil' pussy..."
toji has always been well aware of the size difference between the two of you. he's always been a freakishly large man, and that fact of course applies to the generous width of the monster he carries between his legs. he knows you struggle at times when he has to take a good minute or two to help you relax as he eases himself into you while you whine, that his size can be a bit overwhelming, but you've accustomed to him so well that he completely forgets about how much stronger, heavier, and bigger he is- especially so when he is stressed.
he is, however, unfortunately, reminded after he has curled your lower half up from the bed with your legs over his shoulder. your knees are hovering by your ears as he plants himself over you with his feet on the bed, holding onto your hips and pounding himself down into you almost vertically, keeping you flush against his torso.
his day had been particularly long and grueling, and the job he had been on took far longer than expected just for his client to argue with him about some bullshit once he had finished. toji's irritated, and he's fucking you like he is.
normally you don't have much of a problem with that, but this position he's got you in has you widening your eyes and practically screaming. he's too deep, pushing in too hard, and this angle gives you no room to squirm away or for his dick to angle anywhere but straight into your guts. it hurts, and his face is tense with blazing jade irises of fury, fingers digging into your skin bruisingly, and he's on the verge of going impossibly harder.
you choke, scrunching your face and moving to press against him. when he starts to reach for your hand and pin it down, you shout.
"orange!" you cry. "stop, toji, orange!"
he instantly stills, face falling as he stares down at you in shock. "oh shit, baby, for real?"
you nod quickly with a tight face and he's retracting within seconds, pulling out carefully and bringing your legs back down to the mattress.
"fuck, alright," he says, climbing over you and pulling you down gently. "sorry, baby, was it the angle?"
you don't say much, only nod again as you fight the tears that prick the corners of your eyes. you keep your eyes closed and toji wraps you up, laying back on his side and pulling you into his chest. he feels your legs twitching against his and your shoulders shaking as he holds you, and remorse floods his chest. "talk to me."
"w-was too deep, toji," you shudder, whispering shakily into him. "s'big, and that angle- it hurt."
toji's heart clenches as he holds you tighter around your shoulders. he kisses your forehead, pressing his lips to your hair. "i didn't realize, baby, i'm sorry."
"i told you it was too much..."
"i know, doll, but i didn't think you meant it. you usually don't."
"s'why i said... the word."
"yeah, you did. you did exactly what you were supposed to. good girl, doll," he praises, rubbing over your back slowly. he's never seen you look so pained in such an intimate space with you. the way your brows were pinched angrily when he looked up, the way your teeth bared in a soft grimace, the way you pushed against him and wanted him to get off, it breaks his heart. he feels like a complete piece of shit, especially so because he didn't notice until your safeword came flying out of your mouth.
"i'm sorry," he apologizes again. "i should've been payin' attention. i had a bad day... fuck, sorry."
you can tell he's remorseful, and that combined with the fact that you've been fucked stupid for the past hour and a half has you shaking your head against him forgivingly, head dizzy as you finally take a moment to collect yourself. "it's okay," you mumble into his neck lightly.
"it's not, doll. it ain't even fun or sex anymore if i'm hurtin' you," he frowns. you make a soft noise but don't respond to him verbally. toji looks down at you, gently lifting your head to catch the fuzzy look in your eye. "you hearin' me? you okay?"
you nod dumbly, a hint of unease pinching your brows when your legs twitch again and the ache in your core throbs. you burrow your face in toji's neck and he sighs.
"i gotta get you cleaned up, doll. then i'll make up for it."
"wait," you mumble the moment you feel him pulling away. he stops as you cling to him, peering up at him through sleepy lashes. "don't go."
"i'm just gettin' you a towel. i'll be right back."
you look at him sadly once he has completely torn away from you and stood at the edge of the bed. he watches the way you bring your knees to your chest and look up at him with sleepy, desperate eyes. toji exhales, tilting his head.
"you want me to take you with me?"
"yes..."
he allows himself to smile lightly in amusement. "alright, but you're not walkin' anywhere, you understand?"
he leans down and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. he hoists you up cautiously by your bum, allowing you to wrap your legs around his torso. you cringe slightly at the action, your legs burning after having endured such exertion, and toji can feel you shift against him as he holds you with one arm by your waist.
"that's not comfortable, is it?" he turns to your face, but it has already disappeared into his neck. you don't respond and toji exhales at the stubborn clinginess that you resort to in this fucked out state at the cost of your comfort.
he aids you by holding one of your thighs gently as he walks to your bathroom to retrieve the things he needs. with one hand holding you and the other gripping some cloths, he carries you back into your room and sets you softly onto your back on the cushions.
he gently unwinds your legs from around him and kneels on the bed beside you. he ducks down to kiss you softly, and you hum in satisfaction against him before he pulls away, stroking your forehead.
"close your eyes, doll. let me take care of ya."
a warm rag runs over your body, wiping over dark hickeys and lines of sweat. his lips follow in the cloth's wake, kissing over any part of you that he deems he has treated too roughly in his haste to relieve himself of stress.
he reaches your thighs, where the most pain resides, and presses his lips to them softly. his fingers run over your calves, up the sides of your plush flesh and he proceeds to pepper kisses between your legs, swiping the cloth over your damp entrance tentatively, keeping his eyes on your face to ensure that he isn't further harming you. you do jerk slightly, but that is the extent of your physical reaction.
"i got you, don't worry."
the second you feel the cloth leave you, toji's hands are pulling you up again, moving you around so that he can lay flat on his back beside you. you open your eyes, watching him curiously.
"come lay on me, baby," he guides you by your arm.
you do as he says, easing yourself chest-first onto of him and allowing your body to sink into his heat. his hands come over you and his palms work into the knots in your lower back, over your bum, and in your shoulder blades. he kneads into the balls of tightness, rolling over and rubbing them through lazily.
your eyes flutter at the relieving sensation, the green-eyed man's rough hands smoothing to rid your body of excess tension. "there you go," he kisses your shoulder. "i'll make you feel better, i promise. no more pain for my girl."
"love you, toj," you whisper sleepily into his skin.
"love you too. i'm sorry for hurtin' you. i'll be more careful."
ryomen sukuna: you know sukuna to be rough in all aspects of his life, and that certainly does not change when it comes to the two of you having sex- in fact, that very trait of his is enhanced. the moment he slips inside of you, he's pushing your head face first into the pillows, gripping your waist or your thighs or your throat with his large palms as to prevent you from running away, spitting into your mouth, fisting your hair, leaving red bite marks in his wake, anything he possibly can to remind you that you are his to devour whole.
you've always enjoyed the way he tosses you around or fucks you over the velvet pad of his throne, or holds you almost violently by the thighs in the air and spears you down on his ungodly thick cock while sitting at the edge of your bed with his feet planted into the floor. he knows he's not gentle with you, but aggression is the only way he knows to take you by, to show you how much you drive him fucking crazy, to bask in your enchanting screeches and your doll-like, hazy expressions.
and like the good girl he knows you to be, you take him every single time, and it spurs him on. it encourages him to plow harder, to grip tighter, to render you completely immobile beneath him as he ruts himself into you like it's the end of the fucking world and the only way for him to survive is to fuck you like a worthless whore, though you're nothing close to one.
while he always leaves you in a pool of your mixed fluids on the verge of losing consciousness, shaking like a leaf kissed by the breeze, you've never expressed an inability or refusal to handle him. you take him so well for a human, and sukuna's captivated by your strength, your insatiable desire when he's bullying his dick into your swollen cunt. while you get overstimulated, or hell even beg him to go slower or softer, he knows you don't really want him to stop because you haven't uttered the one word that he told you to reserve only for the times you feel you are beyond discomfort.
that is, until a few seconds ago, when the muffled word rips from your hoarse throat through the ball of your panties he's stuffed into your mouth.
sukuna's on top of you, pressing his heavy weight over your back with his arms wrapped under your frame and his thighs crushing in on your on. you're on your stomach, tears dribbling from your eyes and down your face as sukuna finally stills inside you after having thrusted painfully into your cervix over and over. he's so deep inside you, and he wants you to feel. he wanted to see how much further he could break you in, but clearly, he had mistakenly forgotten that you are still fragile.
the king of curses' eyes go wide, and he rips an arm from under you to tear the gag from your mouth. you heave out a sob, face falling into the pillows as you murmur your safeword again, a string of practically unintelligible spent moans that only sukuna can understand because he's never heard you utter that word before.
"red, red, red," you snivel, and sukuna's face relaxes.
"i heard you," he murmurs gruffly. "give me a moment."
you whine as your entire body collapses with the withdrawal of sukuna's arms from your body. he sighs heavily, looking over your marked skin as he smoothes a hand up your spine. you flinch with a whimper, and he clicks his teeth.
"this is what happens when you grow cocky."
"h-hurts, kuna. too hard," he thinks he hears you simper.
"never heard you say that before," he murmurs. "know your limits, woman."
he slowly eases himself out of your warmth with a clenched jaw and angled brows, watching your arousal gush onto the sheets the moment he's pulled back. you jump and curl further up into the pillow.
"oh my, how far have i taken you this time?" he hums, watching as you squirm under even the slightest touch he gives.
"ryooo," you whine.
"alright, alright," he comes back down over your limp body, curling his fingers over your forehead to pull your face up and gently brush your sweaty hair away. your eyes are closed as he turns inward to look over you, caressing your damp cheek softly. you're so warm, so shaky beneath him. your brows are pinched together in pain and exhaustion, and your lips are wobbling. hell, he's never seen you look so weak before.
"hey," he coaxes gently, voice rumbling tenderly against your back through his toned abdominals. you're releasing a series of trembles, broken hums, likely unsure of where you even are, and sukuna curses internally. he softens. "what do you need, peach?" he asks you in a low whisper.
your response is near incomprehensible, but sukuna is already thinking and moving before you even open your mouth. he exhales heavily and presses himself back up so that he can stand and gather you in his arms. you whimper when he goes to delicately flip you over.
"relax," he orders softly, smearing the wetness away from your cheek and smoothing his hands over your heated skin. you obey him to the best of your ability as he pulls you up.
as though it is muscle memory, you lean into his bare chest once he is holding you bridal style. you continue to tremble, and sukuna's crimson eyes roam your body carefully. he's truly done a number on you this time.
normally when it came to baths, sukuna would have one of his servants or uraume run them for you, but instead, he feels the need to take the duty on himself as he carries you into your large connected restroom. he sets you down within the inhumanly large royal tub slowly, and the moment he pulls from you, you reach for him lazily in retort as your head rolls back against the rim.
"be patient, i am not going anywhere."
he reaches to turn on the faucet as hot water streams around your feet. he's hasty with his movements, focused, knowing that you do not desire to be cold in this moment. he stands to retrieve the oils and soaps he's purchased solely for your pleasure and sits back down beside the tub.
"open your eyes," he reaches in to cradle your chin. you scrunch your lids and tilt your head to him, peeling your blurry eyes on his command. "lavender or peppermint. pick one."
your eyes weakly drift to the array of bottoms lined on the ledge. "lavender," you request tiredly.
your voice is so small, so light, a heady contrast to the way you normally challenge him with your playful tone. sukuna looks at you momentarily, soaking in your sweet mellow state, before retrieving the said bottle and pouring it into the rising steamy water.
he keeps a hand on your shoulder, rubbing over a bite mark with his thumb, as bubbles, soothing fragrances, and petals fall into the tub one by one. the hot water crowds over your bare skin, alleviating the dull ache between your legs and the stings of the marks on your skin.
sukuna holds an intense look of focus, swishing his arm around the water to ensure that all the properties he has included mix together well. you watch him, dazed, cheek propped against the porcelain with heavy (e/c) eyes studying his attentiveness. he feels your eyes on him, but only raises a brow at you once the bath is finished.
you truly aren't all there.
sukuna rises to his feet, slipping his arms behind you and under your own to hold you up as he steps inside with you.
you let him manuever you, your body too exhausted to dare to try to move. he pulls you flush against his chest, his thighs crowding over your own. you sigh out, leaning your head back against his shoulder as he brings a cloth over you, washing away remnants of spit and cum, massaging into the aches of your body wordlessly.
his chin comes down over your shoulder while his hands wind over your waist to stroke your legs. his fingers dance gently over your inner thighs, up your abdomen, ghosting over your neck. he's everywhere, and for the first time, in a supple, tender way, as though he is polishing glass that he does not wish to break.
you're humming, breathing steadily, chest rising deeply and slowly. sukuna's hands curve to smooth over your tits, and you flinch, leading him to smirk lightly. "sensitive, are we?" you pout, brows curling, and he turns his lips to your neck. "calm down, brat, i'm not going to push you. keep still."
his palms work over the sore plush of your breasts and you melt, arching into him as he massages over you with such care. a weak moan threatens to escape you and sukuna shakes his head. "do not. that is what led you here in the first place."
his hands release your tits and follow the curve of your body downward once more. he continues his massaging and caressing of your body until you're no longer twitching.
his hands fall over your hips, smoothing over your stomach. he lifts up slightly to look down at you. "are you still in pain?"
you take a moment to respond, but eventually, your eyes open again and they meet sukuna's lax gaze. despite the permanent angle of his brows, he appears calm before you, mutely compassionate.
you lean against him, holding his gaze, and shake your head slightly, a bit of your senses slowly returning. "only a little between my legs," you murmur.
he hums. "and how would you expect me to tend to this pain?"
you don't say anything, but the soft glint in your eye speaks for you as sukuna's hand slowly trails down your stomach and past your clit lightly. you inhale sharply, still thoroughly sensitive.
sukuna's eyes look over the whole of your face. "do you wish me to massage your sore cunt from the inside? is that what you so desire?"
you moan out a gentle sigh, heavy lids falling over your eyes in a blink as you nod helplessly against him. "slowly..." you murmur.
"you are insatiable," he mumbles lowly. his fingers ghost over the lips of your pussy, circling them gently before sinking past and sliding into your warm walls.
your mouth parts and your head knocks back as sukuna watches you closely. the water swishes around your legs as you move, sukuna's lips crushing slowly over your mouth.
"i suppose i can assist as a reward for you speaking up."
7K notes · View notes
plutotheplum · 5 months ago
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Resonance
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sylus x fem!reader - read part 2!
summary: with the aether core's auction quickly approaching, you're growing desperate to resonate with sylus. fortunately for you, he has a suggestion... even if it is less conventional.
cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, p in v, fingering, teasing, spit kink, light choking, oral sex, praise kink, slightly ooc sylus?, minor canon divergence
wc: 4.5k
a/n: my first time writing a full fic or smut for that matter! given how many times sylus was trying to hold the mc's hand, i just figured he'd be into it. tried to be strong for zayne, but that didn't work out... sorry zayne. hope you guys like it! <3
also posted on ao3!
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You’re starting to regret your plan to sneak into the N109 Zone. From being drugged to nearly being killed, you weren’t exactly faring well in the unfamiliar place. 
A deep sigh escapes you, fingers rubbing at your aching temples. The headache had gotten worse, the band around your head wrapping tighter and tighter. You couldn’t leave though, no matter how desperately you wanted to, not when the Aether Core’s other half was up for auction in a week’s time. Sylus had also been distant. Despite saving you from the night raid, he had hardly come to visit while you were staying at Onychinus’ base. The twins, Luke and Keiran had kept you company though. They weren’t as wicked as you thought them to be, only young men that were intent on working for Onychinus, driven by their own motivations. 
The week was bound to shorten however, and you were growing antsy. Any reservations you had about resonating with Sylus were fading quickly as the auction date grew closer. He was right in a sense, you two needed to resonate, especially after that night raid when the Wanderers had attacked. The auction wouldn’t go smoothly either, you knew that much. Sylus had money, but traitors were lurking everywhere. The shopkeeper’s voice rings in your head, reminding you that Sylus hadn’t been responsible for the explosions. Absolving him of being responsible had been hard enough.  
Plucking at the strap of your nightgown, you’re contemplating whether you should sneak out. Sylus had been accommodating enough so far, and you were tempted to push your boundaries. He had, after all, left a pile of clothes for you. Strangely enough, they were all in the right size, accompanied by Mephisto who had let out a loud caw before flying out, its claws making a playful swipe for your hair. 
A few more anxious plucks at the strap of the nightgown and you’re sneaking out. Feed pad against the floor softly, nightgown swaying as you move through the hallway. You pause when you hear voices, hearing the thud of your own heart as you hold your breath. It’s Sylus and another man. The conversation is too muffled to listen into, incoherent words blending in together.
The door creaks open and you’re tucking yourself behind a pillar, hiding in the dark. The sound of footsteps fades into the distance and the breath you’re holding escapes into a quiet exhale.
“You can come out now,” A voice drawls. Sylus. You hated how he could sense your presence. Stepping out from behind the pillar, your back straightens, walking into his room. It’s dark, just like him. Expensive furniture, books stacked onto a bookshelf and a bed on the other side of the large room. The curtains are open, moonlight flowing in through the windows, mixing with the ambient lighting. He sits behind his desk, eyes trained on you, nursing a cup of wine. “I see you’re wearing my gift,” he says, eyes dragging over the nightgown. You scoff, eyes narrowing at him, “It was hardly a gift, and it’s not like I could sleep in my Hunter uniform.”
He only takes another sip of wine, eyebrows raising. His nonchalance is making you feel irritated. “You’re avoiding me,” you announce, arms crossing over your chest, “is there any reason?”
He laughs, low and deep, “I thought you’d be grateful for the reprieve, or maybe you don’t hate me as much as you think you do.” That has you scowling. You want to wipe his stupid smug smile right off his face. “Relax,” he says, his fingers tapping against his desk as he leans back in his chair “I had more important things to attend to.” That catches your attention. More important things? Perhaps he’d have answers, and you needed answers, about the N109 Zone, about Onychinus, about anything . 
“Private matters,” he murmurs, red eyes keeping you in place “nothing for you to get involved with.”
Your scowl only grows deeper, almost forgetting what you came in here for. Your feet move across the carpet, hands landing on the edge of his desk in an attempt to look intimidating.
“I want to try resonating with you,” you say, deciding to change tactics.
He hums, red eyes boring into yours. “We already tried that, and unfortunately, you seem content on disliking me,” he replies.
A frustrated noise escapes you, “It’s your fault!” you accuse, glaring at him. 
He only stares back at you blankly. You feel like a child throwing a tantrum under his gaze. “Just- please? ” you ask, voice softening slightly. He’s letting out an inconvenienced sigh and your body is moving, red tendrils swooping around your body as he draws you closer to him. “Hand,” he demands. You reach forward, and his hand clasps yours, fingers lacing together. A deep breath gets sucked in through your mouth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to channel your energy and resonate with him. You think about his stupidly handsome face, his low voice and the times he had saved you. Both of your knuckles are white with how tightly you’re squeezing his hand. There’s nothing though, absolutely nothing. No sparks, no glowing light, no Evol resonance. Letting out a defeated sigh, you let go of his hand. He stares back at you, eyes searching. “There is something wrong with you,” he says, drawing his hand back to take another sip of wine.
“Maybe if you tried being more likeable, this would be easier,” you retort, sending him another glare.
Sylus only laughs, his head tilting, “You weren’t so intent on resonating with me earlier. So much so that you shot me.”
“You shot yourself,” you correct, voice sharp, “and the change in mind is because of the auction.”
He peers over at you, eyes calculating. You can’t tell what’s going through his head, you can never tell. It puts you on edge. Sylus is a dangerous man and you aren’t able to predict a single one of his moves.
“You’re afraid of Wanderers,” he surmises, hands clasping in his lap. 
His chair rolls out a bit from his desk and your eyes are dipping to see his legs spread as he gets comfortable. There’s a stretch in the black trousers as his thighs strain against the material and you’re swallowing harshly, eyes snapping back up to meet his gaze. If he noticed your wandering eyes, he doesn’t say anything.
“I’m not scared!” you protest, feeling exasperated “I’m simply worried that something might happen. We both know that the Aether core might become unstable with energy fluctuations, and who knows what sort of Wanderers that flux might attract?”
“I am more than capable of handling any danger,” Sylus says, his tone dark, “or do you need a refresher of what happened after I saved you during the night raid?”
You wince at the memory. It appears he doesn’t like being underestimated. It’s even worse that you remember. There had been blood and screams when his Evol had eviscerated the men that had been there.
“No refreshers needed,” you reply quickly.
Your plan of resonating with him is ill-thought, you realise. You can’t get your mind to change, no matter how hard you try. Head hanging low, you decide to back off. Sylus is right at least. He would be capable enough of defeating any danger there, but his assurance isn’t enough to quell your doubts. Silence passes over you both, only interrupted by your feet shifting on the spot. 
“There is another way,” Sylus says slowly, a wicked grin spreading across his face, “it is less conventional of course, hardly attempted at.”
Hardly attempted at? Was he planning to put your life on the line? Maybe that would work out for him, weaken you enough to get you to resonate with him and then steal the Aether core lodged in your heart.
“And this way is…?” you prompt, raising your brows. 
His grin only grows wider. Sylus stands up, long legs stalking towards you until he’s standing in front of you, his red eyes staring down at you. His cold hand reaches out, fingers grabbing at your chin to tilt your head as his own head dips towards your ear. You shiver, feeling his warmth breath against your skin. “Sex,” he whispers.
Well, you certainly weren’t expecting that. Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, gaze averted to the side.
He clicks his tongue, “Why so embarrassed? I thought you wanted to resonate, sweetie .” 
“You’re more insane than I thought,” you hiss, shoving at his chest. 
He lets out a throaty laugh, a smirk spreading across his lips as he stumbles back a bit at the force of your push. 
“You seemed desperate,” Sylus says when he stops laughing, “I was only letting you know of all the options.”
“That shouldn’t even be an option!” you snap, growing flustered by the second. Sex with Sylus ? He was a murderer and completely and utterly unhinged, not to mention the leader of an illegally run gang. You were not having sex with him. Your irritation festers, head falling into your hands as you stand there. He doesn’t say anything, only reaching for his wine and finishing off his cup. 
“Fuck me,” you sigh tiredly, rubbing at your aching temples again.
“Don’t tempt me,” he replies. Your head snaps upwards at that, glaring at him. Irritation has only led to you making a poor choice of words. 
“I’m leaving,” you say forcefully, holding your head high.
You should be leaving by now, storming off back to your room lying a few doors away. You should be, except your poor feet aren’t working.
He stares at you expectantly, a hint of smile on his face as his brows raise.
“I am leaving,” you repeat, voice hardening.
He only nods his head towards the door. Part of you wants to stay, to find out what he means, but the implications are clear and you won’t do that with him. Especially not him.
You don’t get very far though, the door lock fastening in place with a resounding click . His Evol curls around your body, the inky red and black lines tugging you back towards him. Sylus is reaching for you, his hand cupping your cheek. You have half the mind to lean into his touch. “I think we’ll both have more fun if you stay,” he whispers against your ear, arms drifting across your nightgown to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.
He peers down at you, and your breath catches in your throat. Without thinking, you’re leaning into him, body pressing against him.
“I think you want to stay,” he continues, hands sliding up to pet at your hips.
“You- you don’t know what I want,” you manage out, voice airy, “and I want to leave.”
He hums, hand finding your cheek again. His thumb rubs across your skin, and it sets you alight.
“Did you forget?” he murmurs, head dipping to meet your height, “I can see what people desire the most, and it appears you, my dear Hunter, desire me.”
You’re letting out a soft curse. You had forgotten about that stupid detail, about his ability to see what people desired. Squirming in his grasp, you try to get away, but he holds you still, letting out a disappointed sigh.
“Will you not indulge yourself?” he whispers, voice lilting. You think he could be a siren in disguise.
There’s a shuddering breath escaping you. You don’t get a chance to answer, not when he’s smiling against your cheek and pressing a soft kiss to it. Your hands find his shirt, forming fists to prevent your knees from buckling.
“We are the same,” he reminds you, lips brushing across your skin as he backs you up against the wall.
You manage a scoff, “We are not the same. You’ve done terrible things and killed people. You do whatever you want, sacrificing whoever you want if it betters your cause.” 
“Such insolent words,” he purrs, his hand curling around your neck “I have treated you with far more kindness than others that have crossed my path.”
A squeak leaves when he squeezes around your neck, your fingers trying to pry his ones away from your neck. He only tightens his grip, landing another kiss to your cheek and there’s heat between your thighs, a whine escaping you before you can swallow it down.
Sylus laughs, his hand falling away from your neck to grab at your hips instead.
“Caught you,” he coos, and with that his head is dipping, lips pressing against yours.
You whine again, arms wrapping around his neck. You’re too far gone to care, feeling the plushness of his lips against yours. It feels as though he’s trying to devour you, trying to swallow you whole.
The kisses are rough and harsh and his hands are slipping under your nightgown, sliding up the backs of your thighs to grasp at your ass. You gasp into his mouth, scrabbling at his shoulders. He grunts against your mouth, guiding your leg to hook over his hip.
“You are far more eager than you said you would be,” he murmurs, finally pulling away to let you breathe. 
Soft pants escape you, chest heaving as your hands drop from his shoulders, landing against his chest instead. He stares down at you, crimson eyes bright with arousal as they flit about your body.
“You’ve done something to me,” you mutter lamely, a weak excuse for responding so eagerly.
He raises his brows, his thumb brushing across your lips. He repeats the motion, over and over again until you're tempted to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. You don’t get a chance, not when his thumb is pushing past your lips and meeting the resistance of your teeth. Blinking up at him, you tilt your head.
“You know I haven’t done anything to you,” he replies, “that would be too far, even for me. Now be good and open .”
He has to have done something to you. What other explanation is there for the way your mouth opens, sucking his thumb inside eagerly? Your head tips back as you suck on his thumb, tongue swirling around the digit. He groans, deep and unabashed and it has your hips bucking. “Patience,” he whispers, pushing his thumb further into your mouth. You gag slightly, sending him watery glare. 
Sylus only smiles back, keeping you in place as you suck on his thumb. The ache between your thighs is too hard to ignore, and your hand is sneaking down in an attempt to relieve the ache.
You’re horribly wet between your thighs, feeling your thighs practically slip against each other as you squirm. Your fingers only manage two full circles against your clit before Sylus is letting out a growl, tugging your hand free from where it had snuck into your panties. 
“I- I need-“ you whine, trying to sneak your hand between your thighs again.
“You need me ,” he hisses, eyes hard as he grabs at your wandering hand, gaze locking onto your slick fingers. There’s a sharp gasp that leaves you when his own mouth is enveloping around your fingers, his eyes on yours as he sucks them clean. You feel weak at the sight, a dreamy sigh escaping you. He smirks, forgetting your fingers to kiss you again. You taste yourself on his tongue, feeling the way he licks into your mouth, his hands squeezing at your hips.
He’s picking you up before too long, dumping you on his bed. You hide shyly when he rips your nightgown from your body, his eyes staring down at your bra and panties greedily. The bra goes next and he’s lowering his head, sucking your nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking against the pebbled bud. You don’t know what to do, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him there, trying desperately to seek relief. “So impatient,” Sylus mutters against your spit-slick skin, opting to suck on your other breast as his hand delves between your thighs. “Don’t stop,” you whimper, eyes slipping shut “please, don’t stop.”
He lets out a low laugh, fingers rubbing at you through your panties. “How obedient you’ve become. Squirming under my fingers like a little slut. Didn’t you say you hated me before?” he whispers. 
“I- I do hate you!” you grit out, but your hand is finding his wrist, keeping his hand there as you grind your clothed pussy against his fingers.
He scoffs disappointedly, body slinking down the bed until his nose is pressing against your panties and he’s breathing in. You feel as though you might faint at the depraved sight. His tongue laves across the fabric of your panties and you moan his name, fingers finding their home in his hair.
Sylus sucks at your clit through your panties, licking at the slick that seeps through the dampened fabric. 
“An intoxicating taste,” he comments, pressing a kiss to your thigh “I could do this for days.”
That little comment has you letting out a shuddering breath and words you might regret if your mind wasn’t so stupidly hazy. “I would let you,” you mumble, tugging his face closer to where you want him, feeling the press of his nose against your clit. He grins, red eyes staring up at you, “that can be arranged.” Sylus’s long fingers are pulling down your panties and he’s staring at your cunt, a deep groan escaping him. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 
A strangled noise leaves you and his mouth is latching onto your pussy, sucking and licking like a man starved. Whines and whimpers escape you as you grind your hips against his tongue. He moans back into your cunt, the sound shooting up through your body, thighs twitching. Sylus keeps you pinned down, tongue laving against your wetness, drinking up your slick as it leaks. It’s almost too much, which is why your hand reaches for his. Sylus gives his own hand, fingers lacing with yours. You’re so lost in the haze of his tongue against you that you can barely hear his voice.
“Resonate,” he speaks into your pussy, his hand gripping yours tight. “What?” Your dazed eyes find his, bewildered. “I said, resonate ,” he repeats, sucking your clit into his mouth harshly. 
His teeth graze against the sensitive bud and your back is arching, hand squeezing his one back. Your Evol comes much easier this time, light emanating from both your hands as you resonate. The linkage takes place, and it has you reeling, body twitching as you come on his tongue. The light soon fades, his own Evol dimming down. He presses another soft kiss to your sensitive clit. “Some incentive and your body is reacting remarkably well,” he smiles down at you. You could hardly care about resonance at this point, pushing at his shoulders and crawling up onto his lap, lips pressing against his. He grunts at the sudden change in position, but kisses you back, his hands groping at your ass appreciatively. A whine gets swallowed up by his mouth, your hips rocking against his hardness wantonly. Your fingers pull at his shirt and he’s staring at you with spit-slick lips. He tugs his shirt free and you suck in a sharp breath, taking him in. While you do this, your hips pause in their movements and he’s letting out a click of his tongue, using his hands to guide you start moving again. “You resonated with me,” he whispers against your lips. “Hardly,” you murmur back, nails digging into his shoulders. “Don’t be like that,” he chastises, “I made you come on my tongue and this is how you treat me?” he pouts mockingly.
“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He coos, guiding your hips to move in the way he wants to, “moaning and whimpering for me. Perhaps I should’ve suggested this path from the start.” You try to glare at him, but he’s only gripping your cheeks, prying your mouth open before his tongue is lolling out, dropping a glob of spit into your mouth. “Swallow, baby.” You do so almost immediately, mouth opening eagerly for more. He laughs, almost in disbelief, kissing you messily this time, letting you suck on his tongue. “I need you,” you whisper, pressing his hand against your tummy “need you in me, Sylus.”
His eyes flash and he’s kissing you harder, clothed bulge grinding up into your bare pussy. The drag of his trousers is stimulating, catching on your clit in a way that has you shaking on his lap. “You’re filthy,” he hisses, sucking harsh kisses against your neck “such a filthy slut, begging for my cock.” You whine in agreement, nodding mindlessly. The world is moving then, your eyes finding the roof as he settles between your thighs. He kisses you over and over again, before he’s drawing back, slipping off the bed to pull his trousers down. A loud moan escapes you at the sight, his fat cock bobbing between his thighs. The tip is dark with arousal, veins prominent against the skin. Part of you wants it in your mouth, to swallow his cum and feel the weight of his cock on your tongue, and the other part wants it inside of you, filling you up. Embarrassment forgotten, you’re spreading your thighs in what you hope is an enticing manner, biting your lip and batting your eyelashes over at him. He glances down at your glistening pussy, licking his lips. “In me, please” you sweetly request. He hums, crawling over you. He grasps his cock, tapping the tip of it against your clit a few times. Pre-cum beads at the tip, a fat glob dripping down. Your hand shoots out before it’s wasted, fingers catching the glob. Smiling up at him, you suck your fingers into your mouth, letting out an appreciative moan at the taste. His eyes darken at the sight, fingers dimpling the flesh of your thigh as he squeezes.
“You’ll regret this when you have to leave me,” he warns, “I won’t be there to stuff your pussy full or lick that pretty cunt when you’re feeling needy.” “Then make it count,” you retort, legs wrapping around his hips. He lets out a short laugh, kissing you again. Soft whines leave you when he pushes in, his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You think you might be able to feel him in your throat, his cock stretching you out so deliciously that it has you writhing. 
“So fucking tight,” he breathes out, kissing along your jaw “so warm. I can feel you clenching around me, baby.” 
“Fuck,” you mewl, nails scratching down his back as he thrusts into you. In any other situation, you might be mortified at the sounds.
The squelch of your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your ass as he fucks you. It seems like his favourite thing to do is to hold your hands, though.
“So pretty for me,” he sighs, hips grinding deeper into your wet heat “such a good girl, hm? My good girl.”
The praise has your heart fluttering wildly, cheeks flushing.
“Oh, you like that,” he murmurs, his lips latching onto your tits again, “my pretty, little slut, all laid out for me. You could’ve had this cock earlier, I would’ve given it to you. I could’ve stuffed you full, or bent you over my bike and pounded this tight little cunt until you were screaming.” 
A hoarse moan leaves you. Your hands are squeezing his, legs tightening around him.
“That’s it,” he whispers encouragingly, “take my cock baby, it’s all yours.”
“Stop- stop talking like that,” you whine, writhing under his body.
“Why?” he responds, “does it feel better than you had imagined?”
“I wasn’t imagining-“
“Hush now,” he whispers, kissing you over and over again. You’re not sure how much more of this you could take.
His cock is pounding into you, punching out the air in your lungs. It feels too good, the throb of his cock and his whispered words against your ear. You hiccup, peering up into his crimson eyes. He stares right back at you, the look behind his eyes startlingly soft.
You shy away, head turning to the side, cheek squishing against the pillow. His hand turns your face back to him, nose nudging against yours gently. He kisses you softer this time, the sound of your kisses drowned out by the drag of his cock in your cunt.
“Come for me, baby” Sylus whispers, squeezing your hand “cream my cock.” 
It’s enough to have you shuddering around him, a whine of his name leaving your mouth as you cream on his cock, just like had told you to. He drinks up every noise, lips working against yours as he fucks into until he’s burying his cock deep inside, letting out a low growl against your ear as hot cum spurts from his tip, filling you up. 
You sigh at the feeling, body feeling limp. Sylus is slumped on top of you, his weight oddly comforting against yours. A kiss is pressed against his cheek and you can feel his smile from where he’s tucked his head into the crook of your neck.
It’s a little uncomfortable though, so you’re pushing at his chest to get him to roll off of you. Sylus does so with little noise and you’re curling up against his side, already missing the stretch of his cock.
“You were being nice,” you say softly, breaking the silence.
“Would you prefer it if I were rougher?” he asks in return, rubbing his hand against the curve of your hip soothingly.
You roll your eyes, pinching his bicep. 
“The auction will go smoothly,” he announces, his hand drifting to squeeze your ass, “we did resonate, after all.”
You had almost forgotten about that. A nod is your response and he’s dragging you closer to give you another kiss.
“Training begins tomorrow morning,” Sylus continues, “I need to see how strong we can be together.”
You’re letting out a groan, swatting his chest and shoving him away. 
“Leave me alone,” you mumble, burying your face into the pillows.
He smiles, arms curling around your waist to tug you back into his warm chest.
“Now, now. You were being so good earlier,” he whispers “I’d be happy to reward you, if you perform well tomorrow.”
His hand smooths across your stomach, hand drifting lower to delve between your thighs. You muffle the noise that threatens to spill out.
“You’re insufferable,” you mutter, eyes slipping shut.
“I think you like that about me,” Sylus murmurs, his fingers curling up inside of you, beginning to move at a leisurely pace. 
“You’re the worst, Sylus” you whisper, hips rocking as you try to get his fingers to sink deeper.
“Yet here you are, trying to fuck yourself on my fingers,” he purrs, his arm winding around your neck. You feel him squeeze and you’re whimpering, sinking your teeth into his bicep as he holds you in place, letting his fingers fuck in and out of you.
It’s going to be a long night.
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kitkatscabinet · 6 months ago
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SNUGGLE BUG
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Summary: The boys try to get out of bed, their partner has other plans.
Pairing(s): Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, x reader
A/N: unedited
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DICK GRAYSON
Dick's always been a physically affectionate person, far more so than the rest of his family. It's why he'd been so ecstatic when he'd found you, a partner that was just as, if not more affectionate than him.
On more than one occasion his siblings had been given front-row seats to the snuggle show when they broke into his apartment, served them right really.
What Dick hadn't accounted for, was just how difficult it was to peel himself from your arms in the morning. Torture would hurt less he's sure.
"Ten more minutes," you whined childishly, burrowing your face into Dick's bare shoulder, tightening your arms around his torso.
"We've already said that three times." Your partner laughed, wriggling out of your hold but with far less strength than you knew he was capable of.
Both of you were fully aware just how quickly he could extracate himself from your arms should the neccessity rise. Technically speaking he did have to go to work, but surely it couldn't hurt to be a little late?
Though a quick glance at the hello kitty alarm clock on the bedside table confirmed he was already late.
"Dickie, can't you just call in? I wanna cuddle."
Fuck. How could he say no to that?
It wasn't like he really needed the money anyway.
His boss's ire is worth it to feel the way you smile into the skin of his neck, your warm breaths and little laughs as you lay tangled together.
So worth it.
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JASON TODD
"You planning on letting me go anytime soon?" Jason grunted, though you know him well enough to hear the smile he's attempting to hide.
"Never," you mumble into the skin between his broad shoulder blades, the mattress slouching beneath the combined weight of you and your boyfriend.
Jason, undeterred by your attempts to drag him down, stands with a grunt. A cracking noise you know to be his knees rings out, and though you feel a little bad, you're unwilling to back down in your quest to get him back into bed.
Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is built like a brick shithouse and is just as stubborn as you. Slowly, he manouevers around your small apartment all the while you hang off his back like a drunken Koala.
"Babyyyy," you whine petulantly into his ear, arms tightening around his neck in an attempt to only slightly choke him into submission.
Sighing, Jason starts to wander back into the bedroom. Just when you think you've won, he spins around, falling backwards onto the mattress and crushing you beneath his bulk.
In the minutes you spend winded, recovering, from being squished like an ant, Jason makes his escape. When you finally manage to come back to yourself you notice something incredibly distressing.
"Clothes! Why are you wearing clothes!" you wailed, sliding off the mattress and onto the floor in a pathetic slump.
Despite himself, Jason smiles at the sight, bundling you up in his arms before hopping back into bed with you. "Ok, you big dramatic baby."
Hey may have sounded put out, but the both of you knew he wanted to cuddle just as much. Besides, nothing was as important to him as you.
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TIM DRAKE
He’d tried to be quiet. Truly, with years of training in the art of stealth Tim had intended to simply slip out of the bed and leave you to the sleep you needed.
He’d almost made it, both feet on the floor and the mattress no longer bearing most of his weight when all of a sudden a hand darted out, grasping his wrist.
Tim froze, slowly turning to look down at you with wide, guilty eyes. You're glaring up at him, sleep-addled face far more adorable than threatening, not that he'd ever tell you that, for fear of getting his ass beat.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" your voice is hoarse and gravelly from sleep but the threat is evident.
Mouth suddenly dry, Tim awkwardly chuckles, "Oh, babe, you're awake."
"Thanks to you," you grumbled sleepily, guilt and fear in equal measurements settling heavily in his chest.
"M'sorry, tried not to wake you but I gotta get to work on this case."
"No." You grunted, wrapping your arms around Tim's waist with freakish speed, nuzzling your face into his side.
He can't help the way his heart skips several beats at your casual affection. Tim's always been starved for touch, for the soft loving touch that you've always provided as if its as natural as breathing.
He should be used to it but despite the years worth of love and affection you've poured into Tim in the time you've spent together he still hasn't acclimated.
Tim knows, that you know, just how weak to your touch he is. It still doesn't prevent his resolve from crumbling when you refuse to let him budge, tugging him back down into your warm embrace.
"Good boy," you murmur against the skin of his neck, wrapping around his back like an octopus and trapping him against the expanse of your chest.
His skin runs hot at your words, mind numb to anything that's not your touch as he's eventually lulled back to sleep to the soothing sounds of your breathing.
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baeshijima · 2 months ago
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mr reca fic where he’s suffering a creative slump due to the lack of good scripts (by his standards) from various screenwriters. he feels himself going positively insane with every script he’s given.
it’s too dull. it’s too predictable. this one has no creative flair whatsoever!! that one just doesn’t spark enough imagination!!!
it’s troublesome, really. some think he’s really going through it, while others believe the scripts he’s been given won’t bring him enough money. but really, who cares about monetary value when it is he who cannot even begin to picture himself enjoying the process that comes with each script?
and so that is how he finds himself wandering around aimlessly. sometimes the outdoors is necessary for the mind, and who knows? perhaps he really will find something that will give him a spark. hmm, those trees are looking a little dull. the sky overhead is too cloudy. hm? did he just hear thunder—
something collides into his chest, a choked “oof!” following soon after. he stumbles backwards a little, papers flying through the air around him. he blinks once, twice, at the sight of you on the ground, muttering something under your breath before a sharp gasp escapes you, hastily scrambling to gather the papers fluttering and strewn around.
one such paper falls into his hands. he glances over its contents, skimming through it as he goes to pass it over to you with an apology at the tip of his tongue, only to freeze.
this… this is genius! this is absolutely the pinnacle of writing!! while a little rough around the edges (as drafts usually tend to be), his once clouded mind is now clear, giving way to a blank canvas which slowly depicts the imagery your writing induces. idea after idea pours into his brain as he can visualise exactly what he wants, his body trembling and heart pounding as he insantly fixates on your panicked form still collecting all the fallen papers.
“yes… yes! this is what i was looking for! everything about this is pure artistry! the possibilities are endless, the sky is the limit!!”
this is possibly the happiest and freest he has felt in what seems like eons! seriously, compared to those other mind-numbing scripts this truly is the pinnacle of writing itself.
a laugh full of pure, unadulterated glee escapes him, careful not to crinkle the god-sent paper cradled in his palms. “you! you’re a genius!”
“i’m a wha…?”
he whirls in the direction of the source of the voice, further praises and a proposal for a collaboration on the tip of his tongue, only for his breath to catch in his throat.
you… you’re so radiant! even with that disheveled appearance and absolutely adorable confused expression you’re giving him, he never realised such beauty existed! not only does your writing fill him with endless creativity, but his pounding heart, parched throat and warming skin tells him you’re definitely the main character!
but wait! if you were to be the main character, then would that make him the main character’s love interest? surely he wouldn’t have had such a cliché meet-cute like bumping into each other if he wasn’t the love interest! but what if there is a second love interest? no, no, he can oust them…
you, on the other hand, believe you’re about to get whiplash instead of the man, baffled at how he instantly switched from a maniac to stark silence to muttering senselessly with a dreamy expression.
well, each to their own. you have more pressing matters, and that’s to quickly return home and continue fantasising before you forget the idea! but first, you have to get the last piece of paper back…
“um… sir? can i have my paper back, please?”
in an instant, he kneels in front of you. now that you’re at eye level, he certainly is very handsome. if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought this was some movie or drama plot with him as the main lead! oh, but why is he holding your hands—
“yes, i will spend the rest of my life with you.”
“…what?”
tldr; you’re just a silly writer who daydreams far too much for their own good, and somehow managed to bag top-tier director mr reca with the power of said daydreams. (his ever-growing obsession with you is concerning to say the least but, hey! what genius isn’t at least a little insane?)
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cloudwisp · 2 months ago
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Sylus has always been honest and expressive when it comes to you. Even now, when you inform him about your upcoming travels over the weekend for an important assignment dispatched by the Hunters Association. His encircled arm around your waist tightens and he moves his body on top of yours to burrow his face into the curve of your neck and grunts to show his dismay. Of course, you anticipated this reaction when his most cherished part of the day is being together and spending time with you.
Your attempt to bite back a smile fails when he clings to you and breathes in your scent. Dread looms over him as he considers how much he’ll miss you and crave your presence for those two days—he’s already aching at the thought. It’s endearing to know that your preconceived absence is getting to him and he’s making quite the fuss about it while he still can. But you know you’ll miss him just as dearly when you’re miles apart from him, counting down the hours until you’re leaping back into his arms again.
“It’s just two days—you’re acting like I’ll be gone for two weeks or two months. You’ll be completely fine without me.” Your fingers smooth through his silver locks expecting to appease him, but he gently nips at your sensitive skin when you mention an even more undesirable window of time. “Hey, that tickles!”
“Two days is too long being away from my wife.” His warm breath spreads across your collarbone as he pulls back slowly to meet your gaze, and there’s a hint of petulance in his voice. Your hands reach up to hold his face for a moment before bringing him down for a sweet and lingering kiss to dispel the faint pout on his lips. He hums and welcomes the tenderness, melting into the fleeting yet blissful exchange.
“I promise I’ll call you and text you often. I’m certain being Onychinus boss will keep you busy in the meantime, and you won’t even notice I’m gone before the two days are up.” Just when you think you’re making light of the situation, the furrow in Sylus' brow deepens a mere fraction when you paint him out to have so little regard for you.
“Now, that’s not true, kitten.” He shakes his head with a soft sigh and his reluctance to let you go increases tenfold. “I will notice every second that you’re not with me. How can I not when I think the world of you.”
You can feel the weight of his words behind his pensive stare that holds timeless affection and boundless devotion than he knows how to convey. He’s well aware that traveling comes with being a Hunter and the dangers of dealing with and eliminating wanderers. Even though you’re more than capable and can hold your own ground, he still can’t stomach the unsettling feeling that anything could happen to you and you’d be so far away that he couldn’t protect you. “Just promise me you’ll be careful out there. Reach out to me if you ever find yourself in trouble.”
You gleam with a smile and pepper quick kisses on the corners of his mouth followed by a loving and sincere one full and center on his lips as though you’re sealing the promise with your sweet little ritual. “I do have a husband I love coming home to. I wouldn’t do anything that involves risk, and I’ll update you regularly so you’ll know I’m being perfectly safe.”
Sylus finally relents and a glimmer of mirth appears in his deep red hues. He turns over onto his back, pulling you along with him so you’re half-splayed across his broad chest. You feel a chaste kiss brush against your forehead as he holds you close, wanting to savor every moment he can before he’s deprived of your comforting warmth and the privileges of skinship. “If you go quiet for too long, I’ll drop everything and come to you myself.”
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haetrack · 8 months ago
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"girl who is going to be okay" back with the hard hour!
i know you tend to write more dominant and sexier y/ns (which i think are chef's kiss, esp the doms) but when it comes to jaemin for some reason i always imagine him with a less experienced y/n.
he wants to be oh so sweet to you, taking his time by slowly dragging his cock through your warm walls, his head nuzzled in your neck, but you just won't stop squeezing around him out of nervousness. idk why but the image of a man trying his hardest to restrain himself from going the pace that he wants, having to come to a still multiple times while all the way inside you to just take a breather and calm down, is just so hot?
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jaemin x afab!reader
wc: 6.4k
warnings: pwop LOL, established relationship, inexperienced reader, desperate jaemin, dry humping, fingering, praise, oral, protected sex, soft dom!jaemin, sub!reader
a/n: don't ask me what happened... i lost the fight against jaemin brainrot...
-
jaemin has been trying to control himself recently.
he’s always been more cautious with you knowing that you still get shy around him. he asks if he can kiss you, softly placing his lips on yours. his hands never grip too tight around your waist, and they never wander down too far. unless it’s you who’s initiating the touching, he’ll keep his hands to himself to stop the need to hold you tight against him.
even if he wants to.
it’s been an ongoing struggle recently. he doesn’t know why, but he’s been filled with the need to have your warm walls around his length. on the late nights where you’re not there with him, he’s left alone to fuck his fist, imagining it’s you wrapped around him. he’d be so good to you, taking care of your every need.
he knows that he’s supposed to take it slow with you. you opened up to him saying that you were more inexperienced and that you were open to trying things with him. you just wanted to take it slow, you weren’t in a rush. he obviously respected your opinion, but he can’t help the thoughts that flooded his mind.
all he could manage was a soft smile and a press of his lips onto yours. he couldn’t wait to have you how you wanted.
-
jaemin wants you to come onto him. he doesn’t want to pressure you into something you’re not ready for yet. 
it’s one night where you’re both watching a movie. you’re cuddled up into his side, trying hard to pay attention to the movie playing in front of you. you’re not sure what’s gotten into you, but you can’t stop thinking about jaemin. he’s not doing anything, his hand is smoothing over your side as he watches the movie. 
you keep thinking of your words from the other day. you were the one who suggested going slow, but as you’re sitting next to him now, you’re not sure how you’re supposed to hold up your words. you don’t know how to bring it up. you’re not even sure what exactly it is that you want.
you can feel heat building up in your body, your cheeks growing hot the more time you spend at jaemin’s side. you bury your head into his shoulder, and jaemin coos at the sight of you. you almost feel guilty for feeling so… like this while he has no idea. you can feel frustration build up inside you, tears threatening to prick at your eyes as you want something you’re not even used to.
you accidentally let out a soft whine, immediately slapping a hand around your mouth. you pull away from jaemin, your shocked eyes looking into his. he looks more worried than anything, his eyes scanning all across your face as he asks, “are you alright, angel? is anything wrong?”
he watches as you shake your head no. for a moment, he’s worried for you, his hands moving to hold yours as he checks over you. he’s quick to realize how your thighs are squeezing together. it’s easy for him to pick up what’s wrong with you. there’s a small smile on his face when he puts one of his hands on your cheek, “you feel hot. you need to tell me what’s wrong so i can help you.”
judging by how he’s looking at you, you can tell he probably already knows what’s wrong. you let out a shaky breath, unable to come up with any words. his thumb rubs softly into the skin of your cheek as you nuzzle into his touch. you take a deep breath before you speak, “i… i need your help, jaemin.”
he tilts his head, “with what?”
“w-want you to… touch me.” before he can do anything, you reach for his hand, placing it softly onto your thigh. he stares at it, squeezing lightly as he feels around. he’s touched you before, but there’s a difference between now and the quick, soft touches that he usually lays onto you. you’re asking him to touch you in a voice he’s never heard from you before.
he calls out your name, getting your attention as he stares into your eyes. you slowly move toward him, softly placing your lips onto his. that’s all he needs, your confirmation as he molds his lips against you. his hands hold your face, keeping you still as your hands stay on the couch. one eventually makes it to his thigh, lightly touching it like he touched you earlier.
he lets you pull away from the kiss to take a breath. he finds himself slightly out of breath, too caught up with the feeling of your lips. he wants to feel you closer to him, despite you sitting right by him. he clears his throat, “can i try something?”
you whisper out a yes. he tells you to stand up as you watch him get more comfortable on the couch, spreading his legs apart. he looks up at you, patting his thighs, “come and sit down.”
the initial nervousness comes back as you feel more heat bloom in your face. your hands squeeze into fists as you debate on what you should do. it doesn’t last long, though. there’s a need for you to be close to him, to have him hold you as you kiss him. you want to feel the heat of his body against you as he kisses you.
you move slowly as you settle yourself on top of his thighs. it’s not uncomfortable, but you’re nervous to have him this close to you. he’s smiling at you, his hands sliding up on your thighs, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. he bats his eyelashes at you, “do you still want to kiss?”
nodding, you learn forward to press your lips onto his. you’re mindful of how you’re sitting on him, not wanting to put all your weight down on him. he’s quick to run his hands down your sides, getting you to fully sit down on him. 
he hums against you, gripping down onto your waist. he has you so close, and he can feel how warm you are against him. his tongue darts out, licking at your bottom lip. you open up slightly, letting his tongue lick into your mouth. it’s different from the soft kisses he gives you, and you welcome it as you move your tongue against his.
a soft whine escapes you, and before jaemin can try to get you to make that sound again, you instinctively roll your hips down onto his thigh. jaemin lets out an internal groan, swearing that he could feel you clench on top of him. all he’s done is kiss you and you’re already worked up. you move to get closer to him, your chest against his as he presses a hand to your back.
you roll your hips down, small noises escaping your mouth as you chase any type of friction you can get. your hands make it onto his shoulders for support as you mindlessly grind against him. 
jaemin can feel himself getting hard from the way you’re moving on top of him and from the way you’re whimpering in his mouth. he grabs your hips, shifting you right on top of his clothed cock. you don’t seem to notice at first, but when his cock twitches against your thigh, you pull away from him, staring down.
jaemin starts, “when you move like that on top of me…”
“it feels good for you, too?” 
he nods, smoothing his hand over your back, “i think i could cum just like this. whatever you do, angel, i like.”
you gasp at his words, feeling his hands snake around to your back, moving you forward against him. he lets out a swear at the feeling, moving his hands to your waist as you grind down. there’s a newfound desperation in your movements knowing that jaemin feels just as good as you feel, that you’re making him feel this way. 
you’re on top of him, rolling down your hips in a way that seems too out of character for you. the shy, reserved self that you show to him is gone, replaced with the need to get yourself off with him. you’re using him, pants of his name fan across the skin on his neck as his hands wander a little further down.
he’s no better than you. he’s letting out low grunts as his hips roll up to meet yours. his hands finally make it to your ass, giving it a light squeeze as he lets out a curse. there’s been too many times he’s had to stop himself from doing this, his hands moving a little rougher against you. he helps you roll your hips down onto him, grinding you down onto his tip.
he could easily flip you over, could pull down your shorts and panties and rut against your leaking pussy. but he can’t, choosing to be content with how he has you now. he grits his teeth, pushing away the thoughts as he hears you let out a whimper of his name. he asks with a low voice, “angel, do you feel like you might cum?”
you don’t answer right away, your whines and whimpers filling the air as you try to process what he said. you can feel him twitching under you, rolling his hips up against yours. your head falls to his shoulder, “jaemin, i need… i need to cum!”
his hands grip your hips, setting a pace for you as he grinds you harder against him. it doesn’t take long for you to cum, not when he’s holding you and letting out groans of your name. seeing you so desperate to cum pushes him over the edge, cum staining his boxers as he ruts his hips up.
there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you, heavy breaths filling the air as you collect yourselves. his arms wrap around your back, pulling you into a hug. you smile against his shoulder, your arms trying their best to wrap around his slumped figure on the couch.
it doesn’t take you long to start whining, “i’m hot and sticky all at the same time, jaemin. i think we might need to move.”
he murmurs against you, “let me hold you a little longer, angel. i liked this so much.”
“i did, too,” you press a kiss to his skin, “and as much as i did, i need to shower.”
a laugh fills the space between the two of you, “of course.” he pulls away from you, watching as you stand up on wobbly legs. to your embarrassment, he moves to walk you to the restroom, ignoring your complaints. 
-
jaemin thought that maybe just that once, you would act out on your instincts.
he noticed that you let him be a bit more touchier. he didn’t want to push anything, but he let his hands linger on you a lot longer than they used to. you didn’t even shy away when he would, you’d let his hands stay where they want to be. you’re the same, you kiss him more openly; you try teasing him a bit more, too. 
he likes seeing you be more open with him, likes seeing you feel more confident in your love. he’ll do anything you want him to if it means he can make you feel more comfortable. 
it’s another day that he’s at his apartment with you. you’ve had more time to come over, more time to spend with your boyfriend. he doesn’t expect anything because he has to remind himself: you want to take it slow. he doesn’t mind, he loves spending time with you regardless.
he doesn’t really expect you to come to him that day while he moves you both to his bedroom, a shy look as you approach him, “jaemin…”
he smiles at you, “hey, angel. what is it?’
“can we… can we do what we did the other day again?’
“what do you mean? what did we do exactly?”
you’re not dumb to not notice his sly smirk, a cat-like grin growing on his face. he knows exactly what you mean, but he’s trying to get you to say it. your face heats up, murmuring out words that you can’t even understand.
he moves to sit on the corner of the bed, his head tilting at your mumbled words. he reaches his arms out towards you, “you’re gonna have to tell me what it is that you want, baby. can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”
without much thinking, you move to sit down on jaemin’s thighs. he didn’t expect you to move like that on your own, shown by how his breath hitches in his throat. his hands don’t hesitate to move to your waist, bringing you closer to him before they drop to your thighs. his thumbs move to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, causing you to shiver on top of him.
he chuckles at the sight of you, likes how your shorts have ridden up, giving him all access to your thighs. he pushes you right on top of his bulge, and slowly grinds you down on top of him, “i had my baby waiting for too long, hm? i should’ve known you needed me, right?”
you’re already feeling dizzy from his words, trying to grind down on him already, trying to chase the feeling from before. his hands stop you, though, keeping you in place. he bites back a groan when he feels you squirm on top of him, “won’t you tell me how much you needed me?”
your voice comes out breathy, “i- couldn’t stop thinking about you. i tried touching myself, but… it just didn’t feel right without you.”
jaemin’s grip on you gets tighter, his eyes shutting at the thought. imagining you stuffing your hands in your shorts, trying to make yourself feel just as good as he made you feel. he lurches forward, caging you in a heated kiss. he can feel you try to keep up with him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you do.
he can feel how desperate you are, no restraint shown in how you moan into his mouth. you’re more unrestrained, and he loves it, loves how he’s made you like this. he’s just as needy as you are, probably even more than you are. he’s the first one to start moving, his hips grinding up into yours. he’s practically using you like a toy, groaning in your ear at the feeling.
his grip loosens, allowing you to move with him. you drag your clit along his hardening cock, clenching around nothing as jaemin peppers kisses along your shoulder. it feels just as good as last time, but you can't help but feel like you’re missing something. you want him, you need him to help you make you feel good. “jaemin, i-” you whimper, “i w-want more, please.”
he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding up to you, focusing on your words, “what do you want me to do?”
you grab one of his hands, looking at his fingers before placing it back at your inner thigh, “i-i want you to touch me. like how i tried touching myself.”
jaemin’s head tilts back, eyes shutting at your words. you can feel him twitch under you, his hands balling at his sides. he takes a breath before refocusing on you, “can you stand up for me?”
you do, moving off of him, immediately whining when you’re not close to him. he shushes you lightly when he rests against the headboard of his bed, his legs spread, eyes filled with need as he looks at you. “come here, angel. i’ll make you feel good.”
you crawl over to him, and as you’re about to face him, he turns you around so that your back is towards him. he pulls you against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder as he coos at you, “can you take off your shorts for me, baby?”
you’re a bit shy, but do so nonetheless. you struggle, too eager for him to continue. he watches you, eyes zeroing in on the expanse of skin being exposed to him. this is the most he’s ever seen of you, and you’re not even fully undressed. without thinking, he says, “you’re so pretty, angel. so pretty, just for me, hm?”
you’re quick to agree, your back pressing against his chest. you can feel his cock twitch under you, and it makes you more eager. his fingers leave featherlight touches along your thighs, inching close to where you need him most. he hums in your ear, “needed me to feel good, couldn’t touch yourself without my help. you’ll let me help you, right?”
you let out a whine at his words, squirming on top of his lap to get him to continue. he lets out a low chuckle, “my eager baby, i’ll make you feel good. just be patient.”
his fingers trace circles on your inner thighs, enjoying the small noises you let out at his teasing. you don’t try to rush him anymore, trying your best to stay still on his lap. you’re biting down on your lip when his fingers rest on the edge of your panties. he’s sitting there, so close to your heat while pressing kisses to your neck, and you’re not sure how much more you can take.
“jaemin, please touch me. i wanna know how it feels.”
he traces his fingers along your clothed slit. he immediately lets out a shaky breath when he does, realizing just how wet you are from the little touches he’s offered you. you’re like this because of him, and he knows you’ve never felt like this for anyone else. he’ll make sure you’ll never want anyone to do this to you.
“you’re dripping, angel,” his fingers press against your clit, “is it all for me?”
you gasp, hips twitch at the feeling, “y-yes! all for you, please keep going.”
he can’t say no when you ask so nicely, your sweet voice taking over all of his thoughts. his middle finger makes slow circles on your clit, enjoying the way whimpers easily begin slipping out of you. you hold onto his arm for support, your hips trying to rut up in his touch, unknowingly trying to gain more stimulation.
his other hand that’s not touching you pries your leg open, keeping it from trying to shut around his hand. you’re so sensitive, responding to the light touches with high pitched moans, whimpers of his name rolling off of your tongue. he has to forcibly stop himself from grinding into your ass, biting the inside of his cheek when he can feel himself twitching. 
he knows you need more when your nails begin to dig into the skin of his arms. his arm has a hard time trying to keep your legs open for him, caught up in all the sensitivity of his touches. you break when he speeds up the circles on your clit, “j-jaemin, hold on! i might- i might cum!”
“isn’t that what my angel wants?”
you feel embarrassed asking, but if you don’t tell him, he’ll never know, “can we… i wanna feel your fingers on me- or in me.”
jaemin’s head tilts back onto the headboard, all of his restraint lost at your words. “i’ll help you, wanna show you just how good you can feel. is that okay with you?”
“yes… please, jaemin.”
his fingers move to pull your panties to the side, exposing your dripping pussy to him. he bites down on his lip again to contain the moan that threatens to slip out. he can look over and see how wet you are for him, how you’re on display for him. “my angel has the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen,” he lets out a breath at the whimper that comes from you, “so needy just for my fingers.”
you let out a whine, your hips bucking into the air as you try to search for any friction. he finally gives in, two fingers moving to circle at your clit. you melt immediately, head lolling onto his shoulder, loud whimpers filling the air. he mumbles in your ear, “wanna get you all wet for me before i try fingering you, okay?”
“please keep going.”
he presses a kiss to the shell of your ear, fingers speeding up on your clit. he can feel you begin twitching on top of him, legs threatening to close on his hand. you try to keep yourself spread open for him. jaemin’s other hand slowly trails up your body, reaching under your shirt to one of your boobs. he groans when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra, fingers meeting a hard nipple.
with jaemin’s fingers on your clit and tugging on your nipple, it doesn’t take long for you to begin dripping all over the sheets. your moans have raised in pitch, calling out to him, begging him for more. “you’re ready for my fingers, angel? wanna feel them inside you?”
a moan of his name slips out of you, pleading for him. he plants a kiss on your shoulder, licking at the spot right after, “of course, baby. gonna take it slow for you.”
his hand slides down, his middle finger making it to your entrance. he shushes you when you start squirming, his finger slowly sliding inside you. it feels different, but good. your legs shut around his hand, and he lets it happen as he watches in awe. you’re so tight, he thinks. he wonders how he’s gonna fit himself inside of your tight pussy.
the thought makes him twitch in his pants, bringing himself back to the task at hand. your legs slowly open back up, your hips rolling in time with the movements of his finger. he didn’t expect to see the sight of you like this this fast. you let out a moan, “wan’ another finger, jaemin.”
“angel’s ready for another?” his ring finger moves to your entrance, slowly entering inside along with his middle finger. he can feel you tightly clench around his fingers, letting out a cry when his palm rubs against your clit. it’s too much, the sensation bringing you quickly to the edge. it’s only intensified when jaemin curls his fingers inside you, finding a spot inside you the sends shocks along your spine.
“feel good, baby?”
you can barely hear him, thighs beginning to shake as he presses he continues presses his fingers against your sweet spot. you’re falling apart quickly, his fingers plunging deep inside you as his other hand moves back to your boob, groping at the flesh. you let out a sob, “gonna cum, jaemin. wanna cum so bad!”
“yeah, gonna cum all over my fingers? go ahead and cum, pretty.”
your head falls back onto his shoulders, a wail leaving you as you cum, clenching on his fingers. his watches you intensely, watches how you’re left a mess because of him. he gives up on keeping your legs open, liking just how much you show how good he’s making you feel. 
he leaves kisses along your neck, his hand thumbing over your nipple and his palm slowly rubbing into your clit. you ride out your orgasm, letting out a squeak when the stimulation feels a little too much. he removes his hands from you, choosing to wrap them around you as he whispers in your ear, “did so good for me, angel. loved watching you fall apart because of me.”
while you’re coming down from your high, jaemin subtly brings his fingers that are wet with your slick to his mouth. he almost wants to moan around his fingers, realizing that you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. he likes the taste of you on his tongue so much, realizing he might just have to do more than finger you next time.
your breaths begin to even out, your mind becoming clear from the haze you were in. you can feel jaemin nuzzle into your neck, but more importantly, you can feel his dick press into your backside. he’s still hard, and you realize he hasn’t cum yet.
jaemin watches as you slowly turn your body to face him, sliding down to your knees. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed, your dazed eyes following his every move. your head moves to rest on his knee, looking up at him with a pretty smile on your face, “are you gonna teach me how to make you feel good?”
he follows your hand that trails up his thigh, dangerously close to his bulge. his angel wants to make him feel good. his hand cups your cheek, thumb sliding across your skin, “gonna be good for me, baby?”
-
over the course of a few weeks, jaemin has been seeing a change in you.
you’re more touchy now, easing into his side as you cuddle on the couch. you don’t shy away when he touches you either, choosing to go along with his antics. you tease him, a playful smile on your face when you let yourself sit on his lap.
now, you try to initiate more intimate acts with him. you’re still a little nervous, jaemin helping you along the way as you lay back onto his bed, fingers moving inside you. you always return the favor, jaemin liking the way you look with his cock in your mouth way too much.  he’s also had the time to eat you out, easily folding when you ask him to use his mouth one day.
which is how he finds himself today, harshly sucking on your clit while his fingers plunge into your dripping cunt. your whimpers and moans fill the air, almost covering up the lewd sounds of jaemin eating you out. every time he does this, he acts like a man starved, licking at your entrance just to get a taste of your slick.
one of his hands makes it to your boob, kneading at the flesh just to get you to moan out for him, just to feel you clench harder around his fingers. you whine when he pulls his fingers out of you, his tongue moving to lap at your hole. what’s different is that his tongue slips in, pressing into your hole.
your hips jut into his face, his nose rubbing against your clit. it feels so new, and it sets off a desire in you. your mind is now needing to be filled up with something more, something that jaemin can easily provide to you.
one of your hands wraps around the one on your boob, moving to interlock his fingers with yours. you can feel him smile against you, speeding up his movements. you call out to him weakly, getting his attention as he hesitantly moves away from your pussy. you try to ignore how his mouth and chin are wet, his low voice asking, “what is it, baby?”
you try to put yourself together, your voice coming out shaky when his other thumb rubs against your clit, “i-i’m ready.”
“ready to cum? i’ll make sure you do.”
before he can plunge back to your cunt, you call him once more, “not for that! well, to cum, but… i think i’m ready to have sex with you.”
at lightning speed, he sits up, eyes bulging out of his head, “really? are- are you sure? it’s not too soon?”
“no,” you smile, “i-i mean, i trust you. i trust you to, um, take care of me.”
he watches as shyness takes over you, avoiding eye contact as you talk. there’s a soft smile on your face, your words being genuine. “you should’ve told me so i could’ve made today more special,” he nags, “i could’ve had a whole day with you, angel.”
you let out an airy laugh, “any time i get to spend with you is special, jaemin.”
he huffs, “if you say you’re ready, then you’re ready. if at any point in time you want me to stop, i’ll stop. we can do anything you want, just say the word.”
“want this, jaemin. want you.”
he lets out an affirming okay, quickly sliding off of the bed in order to take his sweats off, choosing to leave his boxers on for now. he quickly rejoins you, “i’m gonna finger you some more, alright, baby? wanna make sure that you’ll be nice and ready for me.”
you nod, choosing to sit up a little more as you watch two of his fingers slide into you. you’re still so wet, his fingers easily plunging inside you. he scissors his fingers inside you, stretching you out for him. his thumb hooks around to your clit, rubbing in tight circles that has your head lolling back. 
“doesn’t take long for you to get ready for me, hm? my baby just needs my help, right?’ his words shoot straight to your core, pushing you close to cumming. he can feel you clench tightly, adding a third finger as he continues. 
you tell him that you’re close, whining that you want to cum with him instead. he smiles at you, cooing, “want you to cum now, then i’ll know that you’re ready to take my cock.”
you immediately let go, cumming all over his fingers. he knows what sets you off now, how to get you to cum quickly with just a few motions. he grins at the sight of you, “so good for me, my baby is so good for me.”
you swat him away when he tries continuing, a small laugh leaving him as you do. his hand smoothing over your thigh calms you, bringing you back to look up at him with a certain look. he bites down on his lip when you speak, “i think i’m ready- think i’m ready for you, jaemin.”
“yeah?” jaemin tries not to sound nervous himself, “my baby needs me already?”
you nod, covering your face in embarrassment at his words. it’s even more embarrassing when you ask, “you have c-condoms, right?”
he reaches over to his nightstand, fishing one out from the bottom of his drawer. since he started dating you, he hasn’t found the need to buy anymore. he thanks his past self for leaving just a few behind, he would’ve died if he had to say no to you now. a bright smile shines on his face when he shows it to you, laughing at you when you look at it weirdly.
“wanna watch me put it on?”
you laugh at his words, thanking him internally for trying to lighten the mood.
as jaemin slides the condom on, he realizes he wants this just as bad as you do. he notices how his chest is heaving with every breath he takes, and he’s not even inside you yet. his eyes glance up towards yours, looking back at him, pleading for him to just do something. “i’m gonna start moving. angel, need you to tell me if i need to slow down or stop moving.”
you nod sweetly at him, hand moving to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over his skin. “i love you, jaemin. you can start.”
your sweet words and action has his skin burning up, his cheeks turning red as he lines himself up at your entrance. he can feel how warm you are, his tip sliding over your slit a few times, working the both of you up. his body hovers over yours, moving to press kisses on your neck when he slides in.
your nails dig into his shoulders when he presses in. he lets out a grunt, “s-so tight, need you to relax, baby. can’t move if you’re not relaxed.”
“s-sorry! i just- you’re so big.”
he groans at your words, his head falling to your shoulder again. he slips out of you, giving you a second to relax before you give him the go ahead again. he slowly slips his tip in, wincing when he feels you clamp down on him. he bites down on his lip to stop any embarrassing sounds from coming out, hand soothing your side as he pushes more of his length in.
it’s a weird feeling for you, it doesn’t exactly hurt, but he is stretching you open. nothing this big has been inside you, so used to his fingers. you let out broken whines, asking him to stop at certain points. your nails lightly scratch down his back, 
his hips finally are flush against yours, his cock buried deep inside you. you can feel him twitch, slightly shaking on top of you. he’s trying to calm you down, soft words being whispered into your ear, followed by soft kisses. his thumb snakes between your bodies, tracing light circles on your clit.
if only you knew how much he was struggling not to buck his hips into your cunt. you’re so tight, so warm, clenching down on his cock. your walls are getting used to the intrusion, soft pants fanning across his face. you call out his name, his hips accidentally pushing closer to you as you clench around him. he quickly apologies, eyebrows furrowing at the feeling.
“i-” you let out a breath, “i want you to s-start moving. s-slowly, please.”
“of course, angel. like i said, tell me if i need to stop, if i need to slow down, or anything, okay?”
you nod quickly, jaemin leaning back up, his eyes staring down at where you two are connected. you spare a look, getting embarrassed at the sight. he starts slowly moving, pulling slowly out of you before pushing back in. you can feel every inch of him, your warm walls inviting him in. it’s so easy for you to just let him take over, the feeling slowly bleeding into pleasure as he gets a rhythm.
while you’re getting used to the feeling, jaemin seems to be losing himself in you. every time he moves his hips, he can feel how wet you are. it’s like you try to suck him back in when he tries pulling out, like you need him to keep on fucking you. your arms are wrapped around his shoulder, bringing him closer to you. he’s surrounded by all of you, your scent, your cunt, the pretty sounds you’re making.
when you start moaning his name, he has to stop, head falling to your shoulder as he tries to keep his composure. he knows he can’t just yet, but he wants to fuck into your cunt, wants to have you fucked stupid just because of his cock. the thought makes him twitch inside you, the feeling of his orgasm already bubbling up in his abdomen.
he lets out a shaky exhale before he starts moving again, a little faster than before. “how’re you feeling, baby? tell me how it f-feels for you.”
“feels so good, jaemin! your cock feels so good inside me!”
you clench down on him, your hips rolling up into his. you’re moving in time with his thrusts, your nails raking down his back, leaving trails of red marks for later. he doesn’t care though, not when you’re wrapped tightly around him, not when he gets to hear you moan his name. all he can think about is you, and how badly he wants to flip you over and really fuck you.
“so tight, you keep clenching so tight around me, wanna make this pussy mine. tell me it’s mine, angel.”
“please! ‘s all yours, i’m all yours!”
he lets out a growl, he’s quickening his pace, hands gripping onto the sheets near your head. he needs to kiss you or else he might think about how bad you need him, how he’s been the one to show you all this. you kiss him back, whining into his mouth as your chest arches into his. he can feel your hard nipples against his chest, letting out a low fuck.
he can feel himself getting close, his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit. he can start feeling you clench around him, your voice rising in volume as you start babbling out to him. he prays that your close, too. he doesn’t think he can last much longer, not with the way you’re wrapping around him.
“gonna cum, angel? you wanna cum, gonna cum with me?”
he sounds so needy, just as fucked out as you are. you can barely register his words, but you know you need to cum just as bad as he does. he picks up his pace, his hands gripping onto your hips as he pounds into you. his low moans join your whines and whimpers, jumbled praises leaving his mouth as he gets closer, “s-so good for me, angel. pussy made just for me, only for me. no one else will ever have you like this.”
you nod, tears pricking your eyes as you come undone, cumming all over his cock. he’s quick to follow, unable to stop himself from cumming when you clench down on his cock. he’s groaning in your ear, quickly moving to messily kiss you. he licks into your mouth, moaning when you start milking his cock.
he slows down, quickly sliding out of you. he sits back on his knees, eyes staring at your spent pussy. he’s broken from his trance when you let out an embarrassed whine of his name. he chuckles when you shut your legs, sliding the condom off before tossing it in the trash.
you’re so tired, all of your energy being used up. jaemin rejoins you in bed, hand smoothing over your thigh, admiring the glow emanating off of you, almost wishing he could take a picture. maybe for another time, he thinks, he’ll bring it up later.
it’s quiet, enjoying the presence of your boyfriend as his light touches move all over. before you can fall asleep, his voice calls out to you, “angel, we gotta get you cleaned up.”
you whine, “but ‘m too tired, you did this to me.”
he laughs, hand moving to hold yours, “i know, i know. let me make it up to you, let me take care of my baby, hm?”
you sigh contentedly, “in five minutes.”
he can’t ever argue with you, easily giving up when he lays right by your side, “five minutes, baby.”
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eyesxxyou · 3 months ago
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sweet revenge
・・・l. howlett x fem!reader
rating. m
word count. 1.3k
synopsis. after catching your boyfriend cheating, you and his father, Logan, go on a road trip to confront him, though, you don't make it far
warnings. p-in-v, tummy bulging, cheating (but as payback), DILF Logan, car sex, van sex, sex with boyfriend's father, cunilingus, kinda rushed :((
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If someone told you you’d be trapped in a car with your neglectful boyfriend’s father for an entire weekend as you drive to meet him in Mexico a week ago, you would have stared at them blankly then told them that didn't sound so out of the ordinary for a life like yours.
It wasn't your idea, it was Logan's, your boyfriend's father. He insisted that you two would have to drive across the US together to confront your disgusting, cheating, asshole boyfriend who flew to Mexico to spend time with his mistress. He was almost as disgusted as you were, apologizing to you with explanations of how “he hadn't raised his boy like this”. How funny life is.
Logan, you always thought, was a good man. He had always been kind to you since you’ve known him, sometimes to the point where you thought he was flirting with you. Not that you minded, he was quite handsome, even for being in his 50s. With his salt and pepper beard and slight wrinkles that made him look mature and wise. You never minded his slight touches on your arm or your lower back but you never pursued the idea beyond a lingering thought.
“I’m slightly surprised you’re not crying.” Logan said about an hour into your ride together. You had been entirely silent, letting the radio play while you gazed longingly out of the window, your feet up on the dashboard. You rolled your head to the side to look at him. “I’m more angry than sad.” Or were you? You searched within the cavity of your chest for emotion and found nothing. You were so apathetic to the whole thing. Maybe it simply hasn't hit you yet, that your boyfriend of 3 years has been cheating on you for 2 of them with some girl he decided to vacation with in Mexico.
Logan stroked his fingers through his beard. “He’s a fucking idiot. His mother was a cheater too, I say he got it from her.” Your boyfriend was raised primarily by his mother after they had gotten divorced he had told you. He wasn't actually all that close with Logan. You had sussed out that it was because he didn't give special treatment between him and his sister, Laura. They were treated the same in every way by Logan while his mother always seemed to favor him.
“Thank you, Mr. Howlett for offering to bring me down here…really. It’s too kind of you.” You couldn't have possibly scrounge up enough money to haphazardly buy a plane ticket down to Cancun last minute. You would have had to wait for him to come back from his “business trip” to confront him. Logan thought it a better idea to do it as soon as possible.
He shrugged, a single hand on the wheel as his eyes flicked lightly from the road to you. “It’s nothing. He doesn't deserve a pretty girl like you.” Logan shook his head lightly. “Back in my day, I would have been all over a girl like you. Hell, I’d be all over you now if I’d met you at the right time.”
There's something deadly serious in his voice that suggests he was far from joking. All your delusional thoughts that maybe, just maybe, he was flirting with you turned out to not be delusions at all. He’s been dropping hints and you’d been turning a blind eye to them so willingly.
You’ve never been with a man his age. Something about it seemed so taboo. He was old enough to be your father. Yet the distinct feel of forbiddenness, both because of his age and because he was your boyfriend's father, excited you.
“Who says you can't be all over me now?” You’re being more bold than you’d have liked. You crossed your ankles on the dash. It would be the perfect revenge. When he goes low, you go lower���you go to Hell.
You let your hand wander to his thigh, your eyes lingering on him as he keeps glancing between you and the road. Logan chuckled lowly at you, your forward attempts at coming onto him were rather cute. “Oh baby, you don't know what you’re tryna get yourself into.” He’s trying to warn you but you like the edge to his tone.
You unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up in your seat to lean over and whisper into his ear. “Let me find out.” Maybe older men do it better, maybe they value things a little more. You were in the mood to find out.
You could see his jaw tighten as he slowed the car off the side of the road, gravel crunching under the tires. His fingers curled around the wheel, taut, knuckles white. “Why don't you get in the back?”
If someone told you you’d be in the back of a van, on you way to confront your cheating, sleazebag boyfriend, fucking his dad. That…that you’d bat an eye at.
It was a fast-paced endeavor. Logan had you in a mating press, pushed up against the back seats. Your pants and underwear at your knees, his pants just below his ass. He’s pounding you out in the back of a van, with thrust so hard and deep that it makes your eyes go cross. You beg, “please, please, puh-please!” like that will save you from the brutalization of your poor cunt.
Logan grunts above you, his hands gripping your thighs hard enough to leave bruises as he spreads them wide and keeps you still. “You wanted this, princess. Don’t back out now.” His strokes leave you winded, clawing at the cracked leather seat of his van, squealing like you have no damn sense in the world. “I can’t,” you gasp.
“Yes you can, doll. You can take it.” Fuck– he was using his father voice. Stern, authoritative, the kind of voice you can’t say no to. You could have come right then and there from his voice alone, cooing at your pretty pussy like a cat. He pressed his hips sharply into yours and watched your back arch away from the seats and your eyes prick with tears. “Logan!”
“You act like you’ve never been fucked before. Does my son not do a good job?”
You shook your head feverishly. “Never– ” you swallowed, “–like this.” Never made you cum for that matter. If you knew fucking your boyfriend's father would have been like this, you would have done this a whole lot sooner.
You could feel him in your stomach. You pressed your hand to your belly and felt the bulge of his cock under your skin. You whimpered at the feeling, tracing where his cock head poked through. You could feel him pressing against your tender womb.
You let Logan cum in you. It was easy to with a face like his. You let him sink himself deep inside, a guttural groan rattling out from his throat, satisfied as he emptied his balls inside you. You could help but giggle as he came in you. The thought of possibly having his baby didn't bother you as much as you thought it would. Logan was a good man, well, as good as one can be while fucking his son’s girlfriend.
Logan didn't want to leave you unsatisfied though you were more than used to it. He grabbed your hips and pulled you up, back arching as he dipped down and kissed your cum-soaked pussy. His tongue found your clit with ease, licking tenderly at the bud between your legs, eyes peering over your pelvis, looking down at you.
Your legs trembled over his shoulder, toes pointing with each rough lick against your puffy pussy. “‘s too much, too much.” His lips were latched to your lips, suckling.
Cumming on his tongue was an easy job. He made it so simple yet so powerful. You quivered under every lick, your body rolling with the waves of your orgasm. It was sweet, savory, like tender peaches on a warm, summer evening.
Who knew revenge could taste so sweet?
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nereidprinc3ss · 10 months ago
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baby fever
in which reader and spencer discuss having a baby while at work
fluff warnings/tags: fem/AFAB!reader, bau!reader, BOYFRIEND!SPENCER or husband if u so desire, discussions of pregnancy/having a baby (obviously), reader wants a baby, so does spencer a/n: god i need him so badly. should i write follow up smut?? mwahaha evil emoji......
The coffee finished brewing minutes ago, but you’re still standing by the pot, watching Anderson’s daughter toddling around the bullpen on chubby legs. She’s not very adept at walking, but her spirit is indomitable—every time she tips a little too far forward, she catches herself and gets right back up. It’s not like she’s doing anything particularly impressive or even interesting, but you can’t take your eyes off her. Every movement makes your heart twinge, every giggle or curious quirk of her head is so adorable it physically hurts in your chest. 
From your peripheral vision you see Spencer approaching, bearing his own empty mug, but not even he can draw your attention away from the adorable little pixie and her tutu and her pigtails. 
“That is the cutest kid I have ever seen in my life,” you whisper to Spencer, hoping the quiet tone of your voice will help hide how much you feel like cooing and squealing. 
He smiles to himself as he pours his coffee. 
“That’s Rosie. Have you said hi yet?” 
“I’m afraid if I talk to her I’ll try to keep her.” 
“She is pretty adorable.” 
You turn to him as he leans next to you on the counter, sipping his coffee casually. 
“Adorable? Spencer. Puppies are adorable. You’re not understanding the magnitude of what I mean right now. I can’t explain to you how much adorable doesn’t cut it. I’m not kidding about the child abduction thing.” 
HIs eyes slide around the room as he chuckles into his mug. 
“Let’s maybe not joke about kidnapping a child in FBI headquarters.” 
“I’m not joking,” you hiss. “I feel like I’m going insane. I just—” 
At the last second you stop yourself, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“You just what?” Spencer asks, adjusting the hem of your shirt with his free hand. You glance down, watching the care he takes in the tiniest detail that you wouldn’t have given a second thought to. 
“Is something wrong with my shirt?” 
His eyes flick up to yours, hazel tinted with mild surprise. 
“No. It just was sliding up your waist a little bit.” As he says it, his knuckles brush the bare skin of your torso. You suppress a shiver, studying his profile once he pulls his hand away and goes for another sip. 
“Can we have one?” 
Your inopportune timing results in coffee dribbling down Spencer’s chin as he quickly attempts to wipe it away, wide eyes torn between you and trying to assess the mess he’s made. 
“You--you mean like a baby?” 
“Yeah, like a baby,” you say, grabbing his shoulders and squaring them to you before dabbing the coffee from his face and jacket. He watches on as you clean him up, completely still except for his wandering eyes. 
“I thought we were waiting on that.” 
“Waiting for what? A better time? There’s never going to be a good time with this job. And it’s not like we’d have to quit. Look at JJ. She has two and still does it.” 
“First of all,” Spencer begins, quickly recovering from your surprise proposition, “I don’t love the idea of either of us being in the field with you pregnant. And secondly, JJ also has Will and her mother to take care of the boys. We don’t have that. We’re both here all the time.” 
“I don’t care,” you groan, trashing the paper towels once you’ve done the best you can with his clothing. “We’d figure it out somehow!” 
“Mhm. It sounds like you’ve really devoted some careful consideration to this.” 
You drop your head to your shoulder, giving him your best puppy dog eyes and pulling lightly on his shirtsleeve. 
“Oh, come on. You haven’t thought about it at all? My perfect brain and your pretty face fusing to create a future Nobel-prize winner? Imagine how cute she would be, Spencer, we could put her hair in little braids and pigtails and we could dress her up and she could be in soccer and ballet and—” 
“She?” he smiles, studying your face intently. You roll your eyes. 
“Yes, she. Obviously we would have a girl. You—” 
The idea of Spencer as the father of your daughter hits you like a tidal wave, stopping you dead in your tracks. The images materialize in your mind’s eye so clearly, it’s like they’re already memories, so real and tangible you have no doubt it must come to fruition someday. But if before, your ranting was mostly a silly fantasy—now it’s become a bit more intense. 
He seems to sense your shift in mood. The big smile thaws slightly as he subtly grabs your hand on the counter. 
“What? What’s wrong?” 
There he goes again. Being kind. Being perfect. 
Tears sting your eyes, but you don’t let them fall.  
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I just... didn’t realize how badly I actually wanted that until I said it out loud.” 
The concern in his eyes softens to pure affection as he runs his thumb over the back of your hand. 
“I want it too. And whenever you decide you’re ready I’ll drop everything for you.” 
His words are like compounding pressure to the deep heat within you—forming something so solid and perfect you don’t have to wonder if it’s real. A ten on the Mohs scale, a concept that gets closer to actualizing by the minute.  
Your voice is quiet, revelatory as you admire the amber facets in his eyes. 
“You’re ready?”  
“I’ve been ready for quite some time,” he admits. And at once you feel the certainty of him paint your past and your future with one broad brushstroke. One day you will look back on your life and remember the time before Spencer, and that will be it. There is before Spencer, and with Spencer, but never an after Spencer. He wants to create something utterly permanent with you. “Come here.” 
He sets his mug down, carefully pulling you forward so you’re toe to toe with your back to the rest of the BAU; so that only he can see you. Despite how good the two of you are at avoiding PDA, occasionally an exception is made. He tenderly wipes away the few tears that have sprung from your waterline and accepts your arms around his waist, mirroring your embrace and completely enveloping you.  
“I love you,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, quiet enough that nobody in the office has a chance of hearing it. You sniffle. 
“I love you too. Also you smell really good.” 
He chuckles, hand roaming up and down your back for a moment. 
“And that is why we are holding off on this at least for a while.” 
“What do you mean?” you whisper indignantly as he gently peels you off him. His hands remain a steadying force on your waist as he smiles down at you beatifically. 
“I mean let’s give it two weeks and see if you still want a baby when you’re not ovulating.” 
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lovelivision · 2 months ago
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GHOSTLY ROMANCE ♡
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader
𝐖𝐂: 8k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: when it becomes blatantly obvious your house is being haunted, the only thing there is for you to do is coexist but what do you do when that ghostly presence haunting your house begins haunting your heart ??
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, making out, obsessive! toji, ghost! toji, slight perv! toji, toji has a big dick, dirty talk, fingering, voyeurism (?), p in v sex, squirting, creampie, f!reader, reader referred to as 'woman', i think that's all ♡
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As of late, you’re beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that your house is haunted, and you aren’t really sure how to react. Often times, you’ll find things aren’t where you left them, some objects are moved just slightly of where they were, and other things are found in completely different rooms.
Sometimes when you go to lock your doors and windows for the night, you find it’s already been done. Innocuous and for the most part these are things you could brush off as you being absent minded, the kicker comes when you start seeing a figure out the corner of your eye or in a passing reflection.
Ignoring it all has been your go to, deciding it’s best to just pretend it’s not happening, and you would continue to keep doing so but your sleep is getting interrupted now and if there is anything you don’t get in between, it’s you and your sleep.
The dreams you’ve been having have started to wander into the obscure territory of some man you don’t recognise living in your house. He walks around like he owns the place, locking doors, closing curtains. It’s not particularly scary but it is unsettling and leaves you feeling unrested, like you didn’t sleep much at all.
Now, as you’re trying to get some well-deserved rest, something goes bump in the night, and you just know it’s that stupid man haunting your house. Frustratedly, you kick the covers off your body and stomp down the hall to where you think the sound originated from.
Arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently, you wait for something, anything, but of course nothing comes. This ghost, entity, or whatever, that’s haunting you started off as easy to ignore and now it’s pissing you off greatly, you just want some damn sleep.
“You got me here, you got me out of bed so you must want something,” your foot continues to tap, increasing pace with your bad mood.
The room continues to be blanketed by the quiet you so badly wanted while you were drifting to sleep, “You’re so rude, haunting me with stupid dreams and moving my shit…” you’re grumbling to yourself, “…haven’t slept well in over a week and now I can’t even get to sleep!”
Still, the room is filled by the deafening silence that usually lingers in your house at this hour, “Great… and now I’m talking to myself, I’m going fucking crazy.”
As you turn to leave the room, you bump into something that feels as stiff as a board. You take a few steps back at it and you’re met with someone’s chest. The person in front of you leans down until they meet your face, his tone deep and monotone when he lets out a low, “Boo.”
It almost feels like the blood drains out of your body at the sight of him and before you have time to really process, your hand is reaching back and up to give him a hard slap right across the face. A small yelp leaving you at it, the smack resounding throughout the otherwise quiet house.
When you draw your hand back, it’s to cover your mouth as you gasp at just how hard you seemed to have slapped him, apology tumbling from your lips and you can only really say it’s because of how shocked you are by the force you used, “I’m so sorry, oh my God, that sounded really bad… did that hurt?”
He’s stoic for a moment before cracking a smile and chuckling at your shocked apology, “Not quite the reaction I was looking for.”
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you…” you trail off, suddenly regretting all your apologies, “Hey! You’re the one who should be apologising to me.”
He’s still far too amused for your liking, “What for? You’re the one who hit me.”
“You quite frankly deserved it,” your brows furrow as you eye him over, you expected something more… ghoulish but he appears to just be some man.
“I don’t think so, I’ve done nothing to you…” he’s talking but you’re not really paying attention, confused by his appearance and, honestly, existence.
Your finger moves towards him, poking at his chest, something you think you shouldn’t be able to do. He’s firm, obviously corporeal, it’d surprise you more if you hadn’t just slapped him as hard as you did.
You’re lost in your thoughts as you continue to poke at him. He cuts himself off to grab your wrist, “–What are you doing?”
“Are you just some guy? Are you just some man in my house right now?” You’re beginning to freak out, much more amenable to the idea of a ghost in your house over some stranger, “I have to call the cops…” you try tugging away, quickly growing more fearful.
He’s rolling his eyes at you like you’re overreacting, “Calm down.”
Your eyes are big and round as you look up at him, scared out of your mind as the idea of some man in your house settles in your bones, “No, I think I’m going to keep being scared.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’m not human…” he squints at you, “Anymore.”
Rightly sceptical when you utter back, “I don’t know if I believe you…”
He seems annoyed at your unwillingness to take him at his word, sighing as he turns and walks out of the room… through the wall. You wait a moment for him to come back but he doesn’t, you’re left in the room alone, wondering if that little interaction actually happened or if you’ve finally lost it.
Another moment passes, waiting, just in case he appears again before you resign yourself to the fact that you’re beginning to hallucinate from lack of sleep. Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself and walk back to your room, only to be met with the sight of him laying leisurely on your bed.
“I’ve gone insane,” you mumble to yourself, “I’m losing my fucking mind in this house alone.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re sane, from what I’ve seen anyways,” He shrugs, “A little spacey but otherwise.”
His words have you glaring at him, “You ever been told you’re annoying?”
“Not for a long time, no,” his smirk is lopsided.
You approach the foot of your bed, looking at him with your arms crossed, “Right… okay, well, you’re annoying.”
His own arms are supporting his head, clearly very comfortable in your bed, “You’ve only spoken to me for a few minutes, I might grow on you.”
A scowl overtakes your face, “I really doubt it.”
His smile feels condescending, “I think it’s your only option, either you get used to me or you move out because this was my house first, sorry doll.”
“I’m still not fully convinced you’re not just some guy in my house,” how are you meant to tell if you’ve gone insane? Maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.
“I technically am…” he tilts his head at you, “I’m just not alive.”
There are so many questions you have, and you aren’t even sure if you’d believe any of his answers, “If you’re a ghost why can I touch you?”
Stretching out slightly, he groans before answering, “Because I let you, how else would I be moving your shit around?”
“So, you are moving my things around!” You’re pointing at him like some huge mystery has been solved.
He looks at you like it should be obvious at this point that it was him, taking the wind out of your sails with a single look.
Coughing slightly, you cross your arms again, trying to recover from the slight embarrassment you’re currently feeling, “Why are you touching my things and why show yourself now?”
“You yelled at me to show myself,” he rolls his neck, “Thought I’d be polite and give an introduction.”
“Some introduction… you didn’t even give me your name,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling a headache coming on, “You only answered one of my questions.”
A soft sigh leaves him, like this whole conversation is becoming tedious, “I get bored.”
“Really? That’s your answer? I’ve been wondering if I’m crazy or if my house is haunted and even losing sleep over stupid dreams of your stupid face and you’re telling me it’s because you’re bored.”
He purses his lips, like he’s trying to hide a smile, “Pretty much.”
“Get out.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” your hands are on your hips, prominent frown plastered on your face, “Get out.”
“I can’t technically leave,” he tries to reason with you.
“I don’t care, I know you can disappear and leave me alone so do that,” you’re so tired and cranky, you just want to go to sleep and pretend this never happened, “I want to sleep, and I want it to be peaceful so leave me alone and get out!”
“So bossy,” he grumbles as he gets up, leaning down into your space as he walks past you, “I like that in a woman.”
You fight the involuntary shiver that wants to run down your spine, beyond pissed off at Casper the annoying ghost. Why did your house have to be haunted? Why couldn’t you live a peaceful and normal life? These are all things you wonder as you crawl into bed, determined to get some sleep tonight.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
In the morning, you think what had happened last night was some obscure dream, and you’d probably go on thinking that way if your ghostly house guest didn’t appear in front of you while you’re in the middle of breakfast.
Your spoon clatters to your bowl with a gasp, “Don’t!” You sigh loudly, “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” He leans back into the chair across from you.
“Don’t just appear,” you grumble to yourself, “Almost thought I had made up all of last night.” So close to having a normal life, you can see it now floating out of your grasp.
“Sorry, doll, I’m very real and I very much live here.”
That earns him a scoff, “You’re a freeloader.”
“Excuse me?” He leans forward, elbows resting on the table.
You repeat it for him slower, “You. Are. A. Freeloader.”
“I heard you,” his eye almost twitches.
Leaning back in your chair, you cross your arms, looking away from him and out the window, “Then don’t act like you didn’t.”
“I could kill you,” he threatens.
You don’t feel inclined to take him seriously, “So could my neighbour, you’re not special.” Your gaze is fixed out the window, watching said neighbour walking to collect his mail. When you turn back to your unwanted companion his glare is pointed and very clearly unhappy which only has you rolling your eyes at him, “You’d really kill me because I called you a freeloader?”
A quiet hum leaves him, “I’m considering it.”
“Drama queen,” it’s murmured but you know he heard it, especially if his growing scowl is anything to go off.
“Shouldn’t you be more scared or something?”
Your eyes squint at him, leaning over the table slightly as you provoke, “Oh, I bet you’d love that.”
“I would actually,” he almost sounds exasperated which only has you growing amused.
You decide to try bargaining with him, “Listen, if you’re gonna freeload here the least you can do is stay out of my way.”
“I liked you better last night when you were scared.”
You take a mouthful of your breakfast, pointing at him with your spoon when you reply, “Well, I liked you better a few months ago when it was significantly easier to ignore your presence.”
It’s quiet, no reply coming from him, leaving it up to you to continue the conversation if you want answers, “What do you even want? Because if you really do plan on killing me I’ll tell you now that the next person who lives here will not be as cute as I am.”
He deadpans at your joke, “You’re hilarious.”
“I know,” you flick your head like you’re flipping luxurious hair.
Already seemingly sick of you when he grumbles, “I already regret showing myself to you.”
“Good, this is much more of an ordeal for me you know? Not only do I know ghosts exist now but there is some guy in my house all the time, how am I meant to go on with my daily life?”
“Not really my problem,” he brushes off your concern.
Being honest, you say, “I don’t like you.”
To which he returns with a big grin, “I’ll grow on you.”
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
You wish so badly that he didn’t, but he does, he grows on you. It’s nice coming home to someone, having someone to talk to while you eat or do mundane chores. It’s been a few months now and you thought he would be more of a bother, but you think you might be the one bothering him.
It’s funny how you didn’t realise how lonely you were until you finally had someone to spend time with. Early on he told you his name, Toji, he told you he used to live here, and that he died in the house. He still hasn’t disclosed to you how he died, and you don’t want to intrude by asking so you don’t. He’s still quite young so you imagine it wasn’t by natural causes which only deters you from wanting to probe for any more information from him.
If you’re being honest with yourself, you’d recognise that you’re beginning to crush on a ghost but since that seems like something so far out of the realm of ever possibly happening, you squash down the feelings. And when that doesn’t work, you try avoiding him, which is not exactly a fool proof plan when he’s the ghost haunting your house who doesn’t need to sleep.
For the third weekend in a row, you’re sneaking into your own house late, having been out all night with friends just to avoid spending the whole day with Toji. It’s his fault though! He’s hot and also a huge flirt and he makes your heart race, and none of these thoughts are holy so you decided to just avoid him altogether.
Kicking your shoes off at the door, you sneak through the house and into your room, thinking you’ve successfully changed and gotten into bed without him noticing. Victory short lived when he appears next to you on your bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip suddenly.
You scrabble for a second, not expecting the shift, body falling into his. Sheepishly, you look up at him, hand pressed to his chest trying to give yourself some space to think, not used to this proximity. You purposefully keep your distance from him, and it feels like he purposefully gets in yours.
He’s quick to get to the point, “Where were you?”
“Out with some friends…” Hesitance clear in your answer.
“Again,” It’s a question but it doesn’t really sound like one.
“…Yeah.”
His eyes scan your face intently and it has you shying away from him, “You’re being odd,” he states abruptly.
Immediate response being defensiveness, “Because I’m going out with my friends?”
“No, that’s not it, it’s the frequency, you used to spend most weekends home alone.”
Still, you can’t get used to how he knows these things about you, “Okay we’re just gonna ignore that you know that about me.”
Again, he doesn’t beat around the bush, “Don’t change the topic, you’ve been avoiding me.”
Gaze averting his as you stumble out a small, “That’s not true.”
His eyes meet yours with a pointed look, clearly not believing your half assed lie, “Come on, doll, if I’ve done something to upset you I’d prefer you just say it.”
“You’ve not done anything,” you jump to assure him, not wanting him to feel bad for no reason. “You’re the best ghost anyone could ask to haunt their house.”
Ignoring your attempt at humour he pushes for more, “Then what is it?”
An awkward pause shared between you as you try to think of an excuse, “Uhm… My friends… have just been wanting to see me more is all, it has nothing to do with you…”
“Mhm…” you can tell he doesn’t believe you, but he can’t go much further than this, he was as blunt as he could be and hit a brick wall. “Well, I want to see you more too.”
You roll your eyes gently at that, ignoring the excitement his words illicit, “Toji, we live together.”
Expression sour when he retorts, “It doesn’t feel like it lately.”
It’s cute how he’s almost pouting, it’d be cuter if you didn’t feel completely awful for ghosting him. You still get to see each other throughout the day but you work during the week, and you haven’t been spending much free time with him lately, often opting for going out instead. If avoiding him like this is going to keep making him feel bad you don’t want to keep doing it.
Taking the safe option, you choose to make the time spent together productive, “I’ll be home this weekend… I have a bunch of laundry to do though so it might not be fun.”
His smile is crooked, “Alright… got my eyes on you though, doll,” he means it in a light-hearted way, but you think you’ve actually hurt him.
“Okay…” you wait a moment for him to leave but he doesn’t, you’re still too close to him and he’s not moving. The silence in the room deafening as you can only look at him and wait for his next move.
When he doesn’t say anything, you prompt, “Toji… are you gonna leave?”
“Do you want me to?” His gaze is on your lips, hand reaching to cradle your face and just when you think he might lean in to kiss you, he pecks the top of your head, “Night.” It’s the last thing he says before he disappears into thin air.
Your heart feels like it might explode, beating a mile a minute at how he seemed to almost kiss you. The disappointment that settled in you when he didn’t uncomfortable, were you just reading into things or did he actually want to kiss you.
The covers get pulled up over your head as you grumble to yourself, how the hell are you meant to sleep now… he’s confusing you and it’s so unfair. You’d probably get over your feelings for him if he didn’t also show interest in you like this, he’s giving you hope, and it doesn’t feel good.
ִֶָ𓂃 ༘࣪࿐
Ever since the night Toji almost kissed you, it’s all you’ve been able to think about, almost operating like a zombie as you go through the motions at home and at work. Every time you saw him it felt like your skin was on fire, like you might spontaneously burst into flames.
This week has been especially trying because it seems like he actually has been watching you closer than usual. Normally he would give you some more space, but it was almost like every time you were in one of the main areas of the house, he was also there. He’s not the type you’d peg for being clingy but then again, you didn’t take your house to be the haunted kind so what do you know.
Getting lost in your thoughts while fiddling with your poor-quality sink isn’t the best course of action, but it doesn’t seem like you’re making any good choices in life right now. While trying to tighten the faucet by hand, it decides to punish you for being absent minded and sprays water all down your front.
Quickly, you rush to stop the water, all kinds of expletives leave you as your hands slip over the metal. When the water finally stops your hands grab the edge of the counter, slumping against it.
A shiver runs down your spine before you hear him speak, “You really should pay more attention to what you’re doing.”
“It’s not my fault, this sink sucks!” If you had slightly less emotional regulation you might stomp your feet about it all.
He laughs at your frowny face, “I always meant to get it replaced.”
Turning to face him, you huff, “This sink is the bane of my existence.”
“It’s not all bad,” his eyes track down your front, “I did get to see you in a wet shirt because of it.”
“You’re unbearable,” you groan.
“And yet you’ve never tried to exorcise me.”
“You know what, that’s a good option to keep in mind, thanks,” you smile sarcastically at him before wandering down the hall, muttering to yourself, “Well… at least it’s laundry day today I guess…”
Toji is hot on your trail, not speaking, just following you around the house as you collect all your laundry. If you had to describe it, you’d probably say he was hovering, like he’s waiting for you to crack and tell him why you’ve been avoiding him.
You would love to talk to him about what’s bothering you but how exactly does one go about telling the hot ghost that you coexist with that you want to jump his bones, there must be a wiki how page for that online somewhere. The absurdity of the situation is almost enough to make you laugh, almost.
“You in there, doll?” Toji’s voice shocks you back down to Earth.
Dropping the shirt you’d been holding for too long into the washer as you reply, “Hmm? Yeah… I’m here, what’s up?”
“You know you’ve always been a little spacey, but it’s been worse lately.” His head tilts at you, like he’s observing your behaviours.
Throwing a glance his way as you refute, “I am not spacey.”
He looks away from you like he’s avoiding engaging with you on that topic any further, “I’m just asking if you’re okay, Something on your mind?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” dragging out the word as you squint at him.
The exasperated tone he uses is not lost on you, “Then why have you been avoiding me?”
“Didn’t we establish last week that I haven’t been?” Ignoring his stare as you continue to load the washing machine.
“No, we established that you’re lying about not avoiding me.”
The persistence he displays is almost admirable, “You’re annoying.”
“So are you but less so lately,” response quick on his tongue.
“Maybe I’ve reflected on my previous ways and decided to be a better person.” He scoffs at that, and you turn to face him, looking him in the eyes, “What do you want from me?”
“I just wanna know why you don’t spend time with me anymore,” he leans into your space, grin wide and taunting, “You get scared or something?”
“Of you?” brow quirking at him, “Please,” eye roll following your words.
He sighs at you, backing out of your space, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you shoot back, focusing on your laundry again.
A quick hand snatches the garment you’re holding out of your grasp, his attempt at getting your attention back on him. It works because you’re facing him fully now, “You’re childish.”
“Woah,” he looks at what he’s holding like he’s only just noticed what he had grabbed, “These are cute.”
If the ground could swallow you whole, you wish it would happen now because why is your unwanted roommate holding a pair of your panties while smiling at you like the cat that got the canary.
“Toji,” you warn.
He hums back at you, almost indulgent, “Yes, doll?”
“Give them back.”
Dangling your underwear in between the two of you by a single digit, he considers, “I don’t know… I think I like these; I might keep them.”
The expression on your face incredulous, “And what? Wear them?”
“I’m sure I’ll find some use for them,” suggestion written all over his face in a way you wish you weren’t attracted to.
“Toji.” A second warning.
Again, his reply is the same, “Yes, doll?”
“They’re dirty.”
“Really?” He looks to them, “Want me to check?” Hand bringing them close to his face before you snatch them away.
“Don’t be gross!” You chastise him, chucking the panties into the machine with more force than necessary.
Your skin feels hot from embarrassment, how can he be so shameless? It’s uncomfortably quiet in the laundry room as you silently stew while looking down into the washer.
Toji sounds tentative when he speaks, “Are you mad?”
He’s met with an immediate glare at his stupid question, “Well I’m not happy!” Brows pinched and feeling like your head is about to explode when you struggle to get out, “How– how can you be so… so? So shameless.”
“Being dead doesn’t hurt,” he says casually.
You can’t tell if that’s an attempt at humour or if he’s being serious but if you had to guess you’d say it’s a little of both, “I can’t believe I’ve been crushing on you, you’re so embarrassing. What does that say about me? attracted to a shameless ghost who does nothing but embarrass me.”
Your foot has started tapping against the floor with your frustrations, not even registering the blunder you made about outing your crush on him… you know, the thing you’ve been actively avoiding him over just to keep secret.
It’s not until he’s leaning into your space and asking, “You been crushing on me, doll?” That you realise the mistake you’d made.
“What?” You heard him perfectly fine. Only feigning ignorance in an attempt to think of a convincing cover.
There’s pride oozing from him, his grin growing by the second, “You just said–”
“–No, I didn’t,” there is no way to save this and so you fall back on blatantly lying.
He’s revelling in how flustered you are and it’s making it worse, “No, no, I heard you loud and clear. You’ve been crushing on me.”
Your hands move to either side your head, covering your ears as you try to block out what he’s saying, “I can’t hear you; I don’t know what you’re saying.”
Despite your actions, you can hear him perfectly. So, you hear him crystal clear when he borderline taunts, “You have a crush on the ghost haunting your house!”
You don’t say anything back, only staring at him as you wear all your embarrassment on your face.
His smile lessens, replaced by a kinder one, “Is that why you been avoiding me?”
Slowly turning to face him, you drop your hands and give a small nod, feeling all kinds of uncomfortable right now. The fact his immediate reaction was to be amused and prideful has you confused on just what he’s thinking about, does he only find your feelings funny? Does he not take them seriously? Or maybe you’d been overthinking it… it is just a crush after all.
You feel a little guilty over how your feelings have been making you act. He’s literally stuck with you and you’re making it awkward all because you find him attractive, “I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable… but it’s just a crush, I’ll get over it.”
You meant to offer him some kind of relief in saying that, but it doesn’t seem to give him any. A low hum coming from him as he moves in closer. Bending at the waist so he can eye you carefully, getting so close that you avoid his gaze, face hot at his proximity.
“What are you–”
“–You’d just get over me?” He asks. You can’t decipher his intent.
Not able to help the way you fumble over yourself when answering honestly, “I– well… I mean… eventually? Right?”
Almost doubtful when he counters, “And you think I’m just gonna let that happen?”
The way in which he says it takes you aback, eyes meeting his when you utter a succinct, “Stop.”
A singular brow raises at you, “Stop what?”
“Stop flirting with me,” it’s unfair and only serving to confuse you further.
“Why?”
Expression somewhere between a pout and scowl when you grumble, “You are the most exasperating man I have ever had the displeasure of trying to have a conversation with.”
“And yet you have a crush on me,” his eyebrows raise.
Swapping back to denial is your solution, “I just changed my mind; I don’t have a crush on you anymore.”
Still, he flirts, “And there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”
“Nope,” you pop the word at him, “All my feelings vanished just like that.”
“That’s a damn shame,” he’s smirking as he looks at your lips before flicking back to your eyes. One of his hands reach to cradle the side of your face, mouth hovering overs yours, so close to kissing you but ultimately not moving any more than that.
Your eyes had closed at the way he leaned in but when you don’t feel his lips on yours you open them to see the way he’s looking down his nose at you, smug smile ever present on his stupid face.
“You’re being cruel,” and he his, he knows it too, it’s entirely purposeful on his behalf and you can only take so much.
His thumb brushes your lower lip gently, still so unbearably close when he asks, “How so?”
“Let me go.” You huff at him, “You’re so distracting, go haunt a different part of the house. I need to finish my laundry.”
“Why are you so stubborn?” His words are accompanied by an eyeroll.
“Why are you so–”
You’re cut off abruptly by his lips colliding with yours, clearly uninterested in further back and forth. Especially since it seems like you’re not willing to give up and just tell him you want him to kiss you. When you’re not immediately pulling away, he’s moving his body closer to yours, other hand large on your back as he pulls you towards him.
Lips so much more careful than you would’ve expected of him. Searching and relentless but not rough, not yet anyways. Your hands move to his shoulders and grip him, giving into him completely, his kiss taking your breath away.
The hand on the side of your face is manoeuvring you how he likes, wanting to deepen the kiss. Tongue licking into your mouth, it sends shivers down your spine, involuntary moan leaving you.
You aren’t really registering it but he’s walking you back, sandwiching you between the washing machine and his large body. Hand previously on the small of your back now on your hip, pulling at your flesh. Then slipping it under your shirt and resting against your skin, his touch eliciting goose bumps.
He tilts your head back and trails his lips down your neck, nipping at you as he goes. Your pants filling the room, small and quiet moans mixed in with your breaths. You can hardly think, too focused on how it feels to have him touching you.
Suddenly gasping a moan when he bites at your neck a little harder than you were expecting, your thighs rubbing together at it. His movements grow more frenzied, lips back on yours in full force, tongue in your mouth depriving you of your air.
So much so that you have to push him back by his shoulders, chest moving rapidly as you catch your breath. Eyes wet and glassy when you look up at him, brows pulled up as you struggle to focus in on his face.
“Sorry, I got a bit carried away,” he’s staring at you, awestruck by the stupid look on your face.
You ignore his apology, “Kiss me again? Please?”
“How can I refuse when you ask like that?” The answer is he couldn’t, not when your eyes are all glassy from his lips.
The kiss is messy and despite the coolness of him, hot. Your arms are wrapped around his neck now, pulling him down into you. Both his hands on your hips, playing with the waistband of your pants, fingers tickling against your skin.
Parting to speak against your ear, “You gonna let me touch you, doll?”
Nodding at him, “Yeah…”
He hums at you thoughtfully, “You crushing on me again or am I imagining the hearts in your eyes right now?”
“You ruin everything– ah–” words interrupted by his hand slipping into the front of your pants and underwear.
His fingers slip through your folds, tracing your clit softly,  “Am I still ruining everything?”
“Oh!– noo, no you’re not,” your words are breathless as you shake your head, not wanting him to stop.
“You know…” his grin is sly as he speaks to you lowly, “You’re awfully wet for someone you don’t have a crush on.”
Wanting him to stop talking, you turn your head and kiss him. Your tongue sliding into his mouth, the kiss desperate and chaotic. Lips connected by a string of saliva when you pull back.
Your words are saturated in sarcasm but completely true, “I have a big fat crush on you, Toji, are you happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” he smiles brightly, finger probing at your entrance, “In fact, I might just reward you.” As he finishes his sentence, his digit is pushing into you, biting his lip at how you gasp against him. “You know, you’re really cute like this, all breathless and struggling to take a finger.”
“Such a mean ghost,” you sulk.
“You’re meaner, avoiding me all because of a stupid crush,” his finger crooks inside you, almost knocking you over, “If you’d just told me about it we could’ve had fun so much sooner, you been depriving me of this sweet cunt.”
Your legs are feeling shaky under you, “How was I supposed to– hah– know?”
“I flirt with you relentlessly and follow you around all day like a damn puppy and you think I don’t wanna fuck you?” He chuckles humourlessly, “Shit, doll, if you needed it to be more obvious all you had to do was tell me.” A second finger joins his first, scissoring them to open you up, “I’d drop to my knees just to please you.”
His words make you dizzy, the idea of him on his knees and lapping at your pussy damn near capable of killing you. Your stomach flutters with butterflies at how willing he is to make you feel good.
He can feel the way your cunt clenches down on his fingers, his chest squeezing with how reactive you are to him, “Oh? You liked that, doll? Like the idea of me licking your pussy?”
“I need you, please,” your lip quivers, shudders running through your body at how his thumb rubs over your clit.
A single peck is pressed to your wobbly lower lip, “You already got me.”
“Noo– oh God–” You’re trying so hard to get your words out but he’s touching you so insistently, his fingers reaching all the perfect spots so effortlessly you might go blind. Your head rolls back as you gasp out, nails clawing down the front of his chest.
Slurred words and jumbled moans leaving you as his hand speeds up. It’s an active effort to get out, “Wan– want your– ah! dick, please.”
He laughs like he’s had the wind knocked out of him, “Only ever need to ask.” His hand is drawing back from your core, a pathetic whimper leaving you at the loss. “Turn around for me, doll.”
You do as he says, turning around to face the washing machine, one of his hands reaching forward to shut the lid. His body moves in close behind you, his front pressing into your back, firm erection against your ass.
His lips brush against your ear, “Hold on and bend over.”
“You’re so demanding,” you mutter as you do what he says.
He counters, “And you’re so obeying.” You can feel the air of his smugness radiating from behind you.
Both his hands tug at your pants, slowly pulling them down your body until they drop onto the floor. You can’t help but feel exposed and impatient, your panties stuck to your core with the arousal that drips from you. Toji’s finger creeps into the gusset, pulling them back before letting go, teasing you for his own enjoyment.
Straightening up, you try to turn to face him and tell him off for being a massive tease but he’s too close to you. An arm is wrapping around your front as his head tucks into your neck, “You going somewhere?”
“I thought since you seem to be indecisive I’d leave while you think about your next move,” you bite back.
He’s pushing your front back down, “You always this impatient?”
“You always this big a tease?” Your hands reach out to hold the machine again.
“Always got something to say don’t you?”
“Toji, I’m so wet and needy and if you don’t do something soon I’m going to finish without you and I’ll make you watch.”
Quietly and under his breath, he utters, “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Before you get a chance to spin around and question him on that further, he’s pulled his pants down and your panties to the side. His cock head stretching you open, your fist slams down into the washer as you struggle to accommodate his size. Stuttered gasps and whines leaving you as he presses forward inch by inch. One of your hands has to reach back and rest on his pelvis, stopping him, needing a moment to catch your breath and get used to taking his size.
You pant out to him, “Wh– what did you mean?”
“Fffuck–” he’s struggling to maintain focus when you’re gripping him that tightly, “What?”
You’re trying to control your breathing as you ask again, “What did you mean by ‘wouldn’t be the first time’?”
“Doll, I’ve been in this house since long before you moved in,” he leans down to you, his lips brushing against your ear, “I’ve seen you fucking yourself with your toys.”
Involuntary whimper leaving you, your hips rutting back into him, “You’re such a perv.”
“Oh yeah, the fuckin biggest,” he groans at how your pussy flutters around him, “Loved when you would come home high and dry from a date, your cunt drenching your dildo with just how needy you were, squirming in your bed while fucking yourself.”
You hate how turned on you are at the thought of him watching you masturbate, “Move, please.” Hand moving away, giving him room.
He’s drawing back only to fuck his hips forwards, “Hnnn– and now I get to see how you coat my cock, such a messy fucking thing.”
Toji’s hips falter at how your cunt sucks him in, so greedy and sopping wet that it’s making his head spin. He can’t tell if it’s been too long or if you’ve got the best pussy he’s ever fucked but it’s probably somewhere in between and he can’t be bothered to think too hard about it right now.
“Is it– hah– is it nearly in?” You whine back at him, not sure how much more of him you can fit.
He’s steadily rocking his cock into you, filling you more each time he thrusts forward, “Not– not quite.”
Maybe you should let him take the lead with this but you’re impatient and horny and he’s taking too long and you just want him so deep inside you that you feel him in your guts. So, in your fuzzy brain, you decide it’s a good idea to fuck your hips back as he moves forward. He bottoms out, his pelvis slapping into your ass but you’re left breathless, squirming as you grapple with how full of him you are.
“Oh my God– what– why are you so– hng– why are you big?” Tears spring to the corners of your eyes, feeling so completely overwhelmed. Pussy twitching around him as your legs shake.
He can’t believe you’d done that, letting out a long-drawn-out groan like he’d been gut punched, “Fuck– greedy fucking thing, you couldn’t– hnn– couldn’t wait for it? Was trying to take it easy on you and your tight little hole.”
His cock is jerking violently inside you, so unbelievably turned on. Your cunt snug around his dick nearly has him believing this is his heaven and you’re his own personal angel. He’d take it for truth if the sight of your hole stretched around him weren’t so sinful, your panties tugged to the side and soaked.
His voice is strained when he checks in, “You good, doll?”
“Mhm, yeah I– mmph– I’m good,” you’re giving him the go ahead, punctuating your words with your hips wiggling back into him. It almost knocks him out, seeing the way your ass jiggles.
His hands are gripping your hips tight, holding you still as he draws back. His first thrust ruthless, forcing you forward, brain taking a second to realise that the loud moan reverberating in the room was you.
“You’re gonna be the second death of me,” he says through stifled grunts.
You are completely lacking in any kind of retort to throw back at him, only able to dumbly hum at him so he knows you heard him. The way he’s driving his dick into you has you twitching and scratching at the lid of the washer, almost embarrassed by how drunk on his cock you are.
There are so many thoughts in your head and also none at all, “Toji, it feels so– oh!– feels so good– I can’t–”
“You’re doing so good, taking it all so well,” he sounds wrecked, words breaking off at the end. “Pussy so fucking– ffuck– so creamy– ohhh–”
Toji’s eyes stay locked on how you take him, chest fluttering at how he’s fucked you open. Cock drenched in your slick, dripping down your legs. So relentless in his pursuit that he just knows your ass is gonna hurt tomorrow from the consistent smack! smack! Of his pelvis slapping into you. Not even a question of if his finger marks will be imprinted onto your hips, the memory of him fucking you so well something he’s not going to let you forget.
He finally has you full and squirming under him, he’s not going to let it be a forgettable experience. Determined to fuck you so good that you’re begging him to do it all over again. He already wasn’t going to let you go but especially not now, not when having you feels this fucking divine. The borderline obsession he feels for you growing by the second, fuelled by how pliant you are for him.
All his thoughts are coming a million miles a second, all of them about you and how bad he’s wanted you, how ecstatic he is that he’s finally balls deep inside you. “You’re so perfect, feel so– hnng– feel so perfect–”
“Careful Toji– hah– I might think you like me,” you joke at him.
The smirk he’s wearing can be felt even though you can’t see him, his laugh short, “Oh I fucking looove you, pretty thing. You’re never getting rid of me.”
You don’t know if that confession is one you can take seriously or if he’s just severely pussy drunk but its effect on you doesn’t change, your cunt clamping down around him as your chest stutters. The tears you had been holding back finally slipping down your cheeks, so overwhelmed you’re seeing stars, hell, you might be hearing things.
His hand reaches to your face and squishes your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling you back to him, your back arching lewdly for him. His tongue licking at the tears tracking down your face, “Crying over my dick, doll?” His words are laced with a sickening kind of affection for you, “So sweet for me.”
His other hand grabs at the bend of your knee, pulling it up. Despite your shaky hands still resting on the washer, all your weight is basically being supported by him. Your head falls back onto his chest  He uses the access to kiss you messily, tongue licking at yours, swallowing down the moans you let out.
Still, his hips drill into you, never letting up for even a second. Obscene squelching sounds of him fucking your gooey cunt filling the room, followed by the sharp slaps of skin hitting skin. Your stomach is pulling taut, getting so fucking close to finishing, vision blurred by all the tears in your waterline.
“Don’t fight it,” he murmurs into your skin, encouraging you, “Let it– fuck!– let it happen.”
“Feels– feels too– ah!– it feels different,” it feels too good, too much, “You need to­– need to stop, it doesn’t feel right.”
It sounds like he gets excited, not even a little concerned, “You’re doing so good, doll.”
“It’s not right–”
“–It’s fine,” he tries to offer comfort, “Trust me.”
Your legs shake violently, the build-up of your orgasm foreign and like it might have you passing out. As different as it feels, you trust him and let it happen, let yourself get fucked over the edge and into bliss. Your orgasm rips through you, moans tumbling freely and loudly, your body shaking from the force of it. Temporarily it feels like you lose sight, unseeing but feeling your cold tears against your hot cheeks.
Cunt clenching down, hard, on his dick, coating him completely in your cum. Body twitching with the shocks of your orgasm, head full and spinning. With the amount of blood rushing in your ears, you can’t hear what he’s saying. Only after a few moments have passed are you able to begin barley making out what he’s saying.
“Fffuck– that’s it, look at that,” Toji can’t hide the absolute pleasure in his voice even if he tried to, completely ecstatic at the sight before him.
You’re breathless and limp, letting him hold your lower half up, head lolling against his chest. Able to feel the vibrations of his moans against you, in a way it’s soothing to you.
“Doll, look down,” he prompts, hand guiding you down.
You whine in protest but look down anyways, an absolute mess everywhere. Lower halves drenched after your orgasm. “Oh my–” when he lets go of your cheeks, your head flops back onto his chest, head spinning.
“Hah– squirted everywhere,” he smiles into your skin, “All for me– hnn–”
He’s in love with the fact he’s managed to get you to cum like that without even really trying, his ego getting a boost he surely didn’t need. His own orgasm so close it bites at his skin, his hand gripping your thigh tight, pulling at your flesh. Free hand sliding under your shirt and grabbing at your breast, shamelessly groping you.
Shudders wracking his body as he cums suddenly, almost taken off guard by how quickly it happens. Cock twitching as he dumps his seed deep inside you, taking a moment to breathe before pulling back slowly, watching as his dick leaves you covered in both your orgasms.
Carefully, he places your leg back down on the ground, leaving you to stand on your own only for your legs to wobble and almost give out under you. If Toji hadn’t been right behind you, you would’ve fallen to the floor. He pulls your panties back into place before hoisting you up onto the washing machine, letting you sit while he puts his dick back into his pants.
You watch him move, all dazed and fucked out, pleasantly placated. His eyes meeting yours when he’s fully clothed, a big smile spreading across his face when he sees the mess he’s made of you.
Leaning in towards you, he asks, “Still got that big fat crush on me?”
“Uhm… I don’t know…” you pretend to think about it, like you don’t know if you like him or not.
He gives you a quick and soft kiss, “How about now?”
“I think… maybe,” you smile lazily at him.
His brow raises, “Maybe?”
“Yeah… definitely maybe still have a big fat crush on you,” you nod once, sure.
He’s grinning when he sighs, “You’re unbearable.”
“That’s my line,” you retort.
You’re both playing dumb but you both know you got it bad for each other and Toji is not going to let you get away with avoiding him again. Not after he’s gotten a taste of you.
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𝐀/𝐍: this took longer than what i said it would and i'm sorry for that but i also was only planning for this to be a drabble... i have issues ToT anyways !! i hope you enjoyed !! happy almost halloween !!
[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
★ ⁝ my works are not to be used for AI under any circumstances
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acoazlove · 3 months ago
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A New Place | part two
Azriel x Archeron!Reader
Summary: Months after a horrible birthday, you’re happy with new friends, but soon you’ll find out that you have to face your family once again.
Word count: 1.9k
Warnings: Angst, Fluff
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It’s been three months and they haven’t come to see you. Not a single one of them. So either they don’t care and haven’t looked for you, or they just can’t find you. However, that’s a stupid thought because they could send Azriel, he is the spymaster after all.
You have to keep telling yourself you don’t care because it's easier that way. Thinking about it for too long would cause you to spiral. One that you’re not sure you could get out of.
On the bright side of all of this, you’ve made friends with your coworkers, and know a few regulars by name.
Benny has been the most helpful through it all. Was there even when you were being stubborn and trying to pull away completely. Trying to isolate yourself so nothing and no one can hurt you again.
The first week after you had moved into the apartment above the bar—which isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds—she taught you how to pour drinks, what bottle is what on the shelf, how to clean glasses efficiently, but best of all, how to deal with all kinds of fae who decide to wander in. The worst of which were creepy males who couldn’t take no for an answer.
Benny kept your mind busy, doing anything and everything she could, giving you advice despite not asking for it. One of the most freeing feelings was no guilt when you went shopping for the first time since being on your own, now you don’t feel like you owe anyone when you spend a single dollar.
Your coworkers were the next best thing for getting your mind away from your family. Odessa—the black-haired female—is probably your favourite person other than Benny. She looked quite intimidating at first but once you got to know her she was a sweetheart—kind and funny. Quick to make you feel at home. She is also a busybody, not that you complain.
Speaking of Odessa, she’s standing in front of you, her hip leaning on the edge of the bar, animatedly moving her hands as she ranted about her latest experience with ‘irritating males’ as she so kindly put it.
“Gods, then he tried to buy me a drink even though I told him I wasn’t interested again.” Exasperated, she finishes her story with a scoff and an eye-roll. You purse your lips and lift your guilty gaze to meet hers, the female tilts her head at your expression, and her mouth drops open, “Were you not listening to me?” she exclaims.
You place the glass that you were drying down on the bar top. A heavy breath leaving you and an apologetic look on your face, “I was Dessa, I promise. I just got in my head.” Mumbling the last part. A playful glare graces her features, and then a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “You're lucky you’re good at your job. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice.” A snort escapes you at that.
Just as you were about to retort, a hand harshly claps your shoulder, “She is good at her job, but she won’t be if she keeps getting distracted by you. Now go on.” The deep voice shoos her away. Frowning in return, she grabs a tray of drinks and stalks off with a crude gesture thrown over her shoulder at him.
You turn to see scruffy brown hair and tanned skin—Dominic. who is the biggest and most intimidating male you’ve ever seen, also an older male, with faint lines on his scowling face. He still won't tell you how old he is. You'd have to guess he's older than the males in the inner circle.
He raises his eyebrows at you. Flushing slightly upon realising that he must have asked you a question, while you were lost in thought. Again.
A sharp exhale passes through his lips, waving a hand in exasperation, “Can you please go check on the boys in the back? They're taking far too long to just bring out a couple of crates of booze.” With a curt nod, you turn and head into the kitchen.
Scanning the room, you find the two males you were sent to find. Oberon and Tarian, chatting away while seated in the corner. You arch a brow at the sight, arms crossing over your chest. The huff you let out pulls their attention to you, a friendly smile from Tarian and a feline smirk from Oberon sent your way.
“Dominic wants to know what’s taking you so long to get the new crates of liquor.” Grimaces shift their expressions. They share a look before turning back to you. Oberon's cropped blonde hair falls across his forehead at the movement, blue eyes meeting your own. Lips pulled into his previous smirk. “Wasn't Adem supposed to help?”
An incredulous look twists your features. “Just do it.” You grumble before turning to leave. “y/n.” Tarian’s raspy voice grabs your attention. Pale skin glimmering in the soft lights, “Cover for us?” mousy-coloured curls bouncing slightly with a tilt of his head. Grey eyes glittered with mischief.
You scoff before you exit the kitchen. “No. I got in trouble last time.” snickers are heard from behind you at that, though you do hear bottles clink together, indicating they had finally decided to do their job.
Blue hair flashes across your vision, Benny stepping into your path. “Break time.” voice with a singsong tone. Just as you're about to argue that you had your last one not too long ago, she cuts in. “Your last break was about five hours ago.” her arms folded over her chest.
Eyes widening before giving her a small defeated nod, you follow her to the bar's entrance, passing Adem on the way. The red-haired male gives you a smile, which you return as you pass through the door.
The inner circle has been miserable, sulking over every word you had yelled at them. Truly realising their own mistakes soon after the door had slammed closed behind them. Not going to look for you, with the excuse of wanting to give you space. Three months of space isn’t enough it seems.
Azriel immediately sent a few shadows after you to make sure you’d be okay. Well as okay as one could be after a horrific birthday. Those same shadows hadn’t left your side since. You haven’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time before you did. Swirling dark tendrils aren’t exactly the most discrete thing when one is walking in broad daylight.
He had felt horrible that he hadn’t said anything when you looked at him that night. He just couldn’t bring himself to say that he was the only one who didn’t forget your day. Or the fact he had gotten you a present and hadn’t given it to you. The day after you left, he had given the present to Benny to give to you, which she did, but fulfilled his wish to not say it was from him. Already Feeling bad enough for not giving you it himself.
Walking down the cobbled streets of Valaris was something he and his brothers had done for years, though since Rhys had been crowned high lord, it was rare for them to get that time. The three of them looking for a place to maybe have lunch, or just sit and have a nice chat. Any excuse to spend just a couple more hours together. Their mates had sent them off so they could have a ‘girls’ day’ at home, which is most likely a cover to plan how to make it up to you.
A pointy elbow jabs Azriel in the ribs, pulling him out of his thoughts with a pained grunt. Glaring up at his brother, Cassian only replies with a snort. “What was that for?” Azriel grits out, hand rubbing his side.
“You’re brooding. No brooding on boys’ day.” At his words, a chuckle escapes from Rhysand who’s on Cassian’s otherside.
“I am not brooding.” Azriel grumbles. “Fine then, moping.” Cassian’s words have that same teasing tone as when they’re sparring, trying to rile him up as much as possible
Opening his mouth to growl out a retort, shining blue hair flashes from across the street at a Cafe, catching Cass’ attention. “Benny!” His booming voice yells towards her.
Head snapping in the direction that her name came from. a beaming smile stretching across her features seeing the three boys.
Before Rhys or Az can pull him back, Cassians already bounding over to her, pulling her into a hug before she could take a seat at her table. A laugh bubbles from her chest, hugging him back.
Joining them, Rhys grins at her, And Azriel gives her a nod of acknowledgement. “Long time no see. How’ve you boys been?” her smile still clear in her voice.
“We’ve been great, how about you? Are you having a late lunch all by yourself?” Rhysand’s voice has his usual charming lilt to it.
“I’ve been good too. Not alone, my friend is in the bathroom.” Azriel’s attention is pulled towards the bathroom door as if he could tell who her friend was from where he is standing. “Haven't seen you all in nearly a century. Busy with mates now I assume.” more a question than a statement.
“Yup,” Cassian enthusiastically pops the ‘p’ “you need to meet them, you’ll love them.” A loud, over exaggerated gasp gets pulled from him. “We should all go to your bar for dinner and drinks.” Beaming, likes it’s his best idea he’s ever had.
Benny’s own smile grows in response. “I'd love that. I’ll even reserve your old favourite table. Though I might have to pull two together considering how much your family’s grown.
a bark of excited laughter is pulled from Cassian. Rhys pulls him away before he can distract her from her lunch any more than he already has. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s leave you to it, and we’ll see you in a couple days?”
“I’ll save a couple tables for you.” She embraces each of them, before pulling away and waving them off, to finally sit down.
They depart with smiles and waves, then head off to find a place for them to have their lunch. Azriel can’t help but look over his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of who she’s with. Before they round a corner and are out of sight, he sees exactly who it is. You.
You exit the toilet and make your way over to the table Benny had chosen outside. The food and coffee you had picked now waiting for you.
As you pull your chair out, she turns her gaze back to you, a grin gracing her cerulean features. Deciding to ignore the mischievous undertones of that look, you pick up the pastry sitting in front of you and take a bite.
“We're going to be busy in a couple of days. A couple tables have been booked.” She speaks as if it’s an afterthought.
Your brows pull together at her words. “Since when did we reserve tables?” you inquire, never having heard that was a possibility for the bar. “We don't. They’re just special guests.” her voice light as she picks up her coffee, signalling that she won’t be answering any more questions.
Glancing in the direction that held her attention previously, you find nothing. whoever it was must’ve been important for Benny to change her usual routine with the bar. choosing not to dwell on it for too long, you turn back to the female in front of you, to enjoy your lunch.
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a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes. I’m sorry for taking so long to post this, and i know this isn’t exactly the part two you guys wanted, but the story needs to be built up just a little bit. I promise the next part won’t take as long, and there will absolutely be more interactions with the inner circle. Thank you for your patience, I have had low energy because I’ve been quite sick, and haven’t been able to get this to a place where I want to post it. I hope you liked it anyway. <3
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brailsthesmolgurl · 5 months ago
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"It's priced reasonably..."
Preview: The boys' reactions to you buying things on impulse/on a discount! (Let's be fair, we all know they are all rich af, but I personally wanna give it a slice of life touch for them <3)
SYLUS
The big man you call your boyfriend stares at you when you stepped in through the front door with multiple bags loaded in your small palms. You had told him earlier on that you were going for window shopping and he was all too kind to give you his card and to ask you to use whenever you seem fit. However, coming over a huge discount on groceries are rare hence you had decided to use it as you 'deem it fit'. Sylus did noticed his phone's notifications going off a couple of times to alert him about transactions made on his card.
Instead of him looking at it, he would just mute the notifications and continue his humming while he seats himself comfortably on the couch and watches the news broadcast. "You had fun shopping, kitten?" He smirked, walking over to you to help you with the bags. "Next time, bring me along. I would like to see how my kitten makes good use of my card." Yet, you apologised for having to use his card when you told him you were supposedly going for window shopping but the man laughed in response, finding your apology to be adorable. "No more apologies kitten for I am not a stingy man."
RAFAYEL
Whilst on a shopping trip with Rafayel, this man would splurge on you. Apparently in this case, he would take up the role of the impulsive buyer rather than you. You eyeing something for more than 3 seconds? Considered it bought. You mentioning about something more than 3 times? Considered it purchased. You imagining something that may look good on him? Considered it a done deal. This man has no fear nor worry of ever going bankrupt as long as you're satisfied.
Staring at the huge lorry outside of his mansion, unloading everything you had mentioned would definitely put you in a state of shocked. Your boyfriend would approach you casually, wrapping his arm around your waist and nuzzling his nose against your neck. You would definitely question him on his purchasing behaviour but he would pout. "Gift giving and impulse buying goes hand in hand, and I do not see the reason why I should not be spoiling my cutie." Seeing you smile, he would continue. "It is just one of the ways I can show you that I love you, so don't hold me back on that, yeah?"
XAVIER
Grocery shopping with Xavier would be like going on a hunt for rare breeds of wanderers. Anything that are on discount would not be missed, especially with both of your sharp eyesights. However, you and Xavier are not known to be impulsive buyers. More like calculative buyers, the both of you seemingly carry a bit of a girl math's mentality. Other than necessities, anything that is supplemental to the house would be assessed for its usability and longevity. It is a perk the both of you would sometimes fight or bond over.
But if the discount is worth the product, then none of you would get it on the spot. You would have your moments where you would get something out of the blue, without running through your usual girl-math calculations, and you would be met with the quirk of an eyebrow from your boyfriend. "I suppose we lack this in our house." He would secretly do the math in his head but would never say anything to intentionally make you feel bad. "Yeah, we can make this work, no worries." Then, he would pull the same stunt as you, showing you something that he had got out of the blue as well.
ZAYNE
You would give Zayne a headache sometimes. Your childlike curiousity for interesting and new items would prompt Zayne to take on the role of a father figure. He might sometimes go as far as to suspect you may have a slight hint of ADHD in your system, but other than a slight migraine, he finds the quirk in you to be specifically unique to you. And, he never complains. Being the gentleman he is, he accepts you for who you are and tries to work his way around you whenever he could manage.
"Do you think you really need that?" He would point at the stuffed toys you are holding in your arms. Your point being all of them are begging you to adopt them with their big googly eyes. "Y/n, you might just have to pick one for adoption." Your slack-jawed expression would make him sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose slightly before he serves you a reminder of the consequences for your behaviour. "You had adopted exactly 36 plushies, and now, only 5 of them are actually adopted on your bed, while the rest of them are abandoned in your closet. So y/n, which one do you plan to ACTUALLY adopt now hmm?"
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disgustingtwitches · 1 month ago
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@rememberwren's Sperm donor!Johnny and Husband!Ghost has been stuck in my head for far too long. So here's a quick unedited little thing I wrote for it!
You forgot exactly what you were nervous about. Then again, you usually forget everything when your husband is between your legs.
“Gotta warm you up properly.”
He said earlier to Johnny and you, his large hand rubbing your thigh just a touch too high and making your face hot. 
You're not sure how much “warming up” you needed; he's been at it for God knows how long, and you're dizzy and pretty sure you can't feel your toes anymore. He can be so mean sometimes when he's like this, biting your thighs when you try to push his head away, smiling at how you whimper.
“You know, I'm starting to think you like it when I do that.”
As overstimulated as you are, you whine when he pulls away. You swear you can see the hearts in his eyes when he looks down at you. Gets you right in the heart. 
When he rolls out of bed and walks to the door you suddenly remember why your stomach was in knots earlier; you're about to sleep with his subordinate. No, that's not the right word. Brother in arms? Best friend? Their relationship always seemed more complex than words could describe. There's a soft knock on the door and you look up to see your husband walk in with Johnny in tow. 
Johnny's knees nearly give in at the sight of your body tangled up in the sheets, breathing hard, and skin glistening.
“Prettiest thing I've ever seen.” 
He smiles while unbuckling his pants. Simon hums in agreement and sits next to you, running his fingers up your arm and neck to caress your face. The look in his eyes could melt you right then and there, grounding and reassuring. Everything is going to be alright; it always has been and always will be.
Your eyes shoot back to Johnny, who's crawling over you slowly. You bite back a groan when Simon coos a good girl as you open your legs more, inviting Johnny to settle between them. The difference between your husband's face and the man hovering over you is night and day; Simon all soft and enamored, Johnny all fervid and lustful. 
“Ye ready?” 
Johnny's voice is almost as shaky as his hands, not nervous but almost deliriously aroused. You never had wandering eyes; it seems like it's wrong to even look at him now, but you don't want this to feel unnatural; you want to enjoy this. So you scan his body, toned chest falling and rising fast, strong arms caging you in, blue eyes so intense you have to look away.
“Uh-huh.”
You reply quietly, bucking your hips against his, your most sensitive parts rubbing against his. The gasp you share makes you both chuckle, easing the tension. You run your hands up his arms and wrap them around his neck. When you pull him closer, he follows eagerly, burying his face against the crook of your neck, stubble tickling you. 
“Dinnae have to do this if you don't want to, hen.” 
“No, I want to.” 
Your voice, smaller than you want it to be, makes Johnny's eyes soften. You look over to Simon, he cocks his head to the side, raising an eyebrow slightly, checking in. You just nod and he nods back. You keep your eyes on Simon while addressing Johnny,
“Ready.”
There's a pause, a shift, and then. You groan and roll your eyes back when he slides in, still facing Simon who blinks fast. Johnny breathes like the air was knocked out of him,
“Jesus…fuck…”
He curses to himself, face still buried at your neck, slowly moving his hips forward until his pelvis meets yours. You whine as he nips your neck and yelp when he punches his hips forward from the sounds you make. Your husband leans over and palms the back of his neck, talking in a low, serious tone that makes you tighten up, 
“Johnny.”
“Yeah, LT?”
“Ease up.” 
“Yes, Sir.” 
Johnny places a soft kiss where he bit you. It's all so…overwhelmingly intimate. Another man on top of you, grinding at just the right angle, hitting the right spots, all while your husband watches, instructing him. Simon pulls his hand away from Johnny's neck and shifts on the bed, sitting right next to you. Your eyes go wide when you turn to see him palming his erection. Oh. This is okay. This situation is more than okay. Simon fucking loves this. Johnny too. Guess you should throw away any reservations or doubts you had and just embrace this moment. Enjoy it to the fullest. 
Johnny pulls back, face slightly flushed, panting softly,
“She's so wet, Simon. Just so soft and perfect. Prettiest thing I ever saw...” 
You soak in the compliments but tune him out eventually, your attention drifting down to where Johnny slides in and out of you. It's a dreamy sight, really; you look so good together, it kind of reminds you how wonderful you and Simon look together. 
“Looks real nice, doesn't it? Taking me so well, hen.”
Johnny presses his forehead against yours, looking down while you hum in agreement. It's quiet for a moment, save for the occasional pant and moan or slick sounds from between your legs. A rough hand holds your left and another, larger hand grabs your right. It's all so sweaty, so sticky and sweet. So dazed, you barely register the first kiss Johnny plants on your lips. The second one makes your eyes shoot open, staring right at his annoyingly long, brown lashes until he pulls back and opens his eyes, blindingly blue. Your face gets hot, and you pull your hand to your face, your husband's fingers still intertwined with them. He extends his pointer finger to caress your cheek and you turn your face to look up at him. He's so gentle right now like he knows that's what you need from him. 
A smile plays on his face when you open your mouth and slide his finger into your mouth, sucking softly, rolling your eyes back, and moaning softly. You love giving him a show. Love making him melt in your mouth. He nods over to Johnny, whose jaw is slack, breathing hard. When you look at him, it's quite the sight: blue eyes wide and wild, mouth hanging open, and you can see his pulse right underneath his jawline beating wildly. Just fucking delectable. You pull your face away from Simon's hand and smile up at Johnny who groans and chuckles,
“Christ, LT.”
“Focus, Johnny. Ain't done yet.”
There's something feral that flashes in Johnny's eyes, hungry. Eager to please. You or Simon, you're not too sure. But he hooks an arm under your knees and hikes your leg up as far as it'll go, digging into you until you're a whimpering mess under him. His whole body pressed up against you, pinning you down. His mouth pressed right up against your ear, replacing every thought you had with his voice. 
“Right there? Huh? God, tight cunt right here…C'mon... Tell me how good it is…Tell me.”
He repeats the last phrase until you're mindlessly praising him, telling him what he wants to hear. What he needs to hear. You can feel him smile against the skin right under your ear before pressing tender kisses there. 
You're pressed chest to sweaty, hairy chest when you wrap your arms around him tighter, embracing him. All traces of guilt scraped away with Simon's breathy praise. You move one hand around until it rests on your husband's big thigh, and he tenses up under your touch. 
“C'mon love, give Johnny something real nice. He's been such a trooper, yeah?” 
You nod into Johnny's shoulder, breathless. 
“Uh-huh,”
It hits you hard and fast. Almost unexpectedly. Hearing a small moan escape Simon always sent you over the edge, though, always a rare moment when he lets himself relax and be vulnerable. 
Spasming and moaning under Johnny had his hips moving frantically, desperate for his own release. Biting his shoulder had him crashing right into it, digging deep into you until his hips still. He crushed you under his weight, licking the sweat off your neck. Simon pushed his head away though. 
“Don't forget, she's my wife Johnny.
His voice isn't harsh, it's almost soft. His large frame leans down and presses a tender kiss against your lips. Then another. And another. All while singing velvety praises between each one. For a moment, you forget about the other man in the room lying right on top of you. Until he pulls away, sliding out of you. Almost makes you whine til he starts pressing his lips against your sternum and stomach. Head in the clouds, you feel like you're floating. Suspended in this moment of pure bliss. 
“You got one more in you?”
Simon asks. Before you can answer, Johnny responds eagerly. 
“Always.”
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witch-hazels-musings · 1 month ago
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seeing you get hit
Genre: angst/comfort NEUVILLETTE x GN reader  |  Anthology warning: the reader is punched in the face, kicked (2xs), mention of pain and discomfort / Mesulines are treated unkindly and spoken too derogatorily / Neuvillette obliterates a guy (oh also you wake up in his bed -- fufu) Synopsis: *character* becomes progressively worried about you not returning - as the hours tick by, they notice a commotion has started and find you in distress as they check it out. Quickly they head to where you were and, well, their reaction to seeing you being accosted by someone in the middle of the city, let’s just say they took matters into their own hands
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"Sir, please calm down," you said, raising your hands to appease the irate man waving about. You moved to position yourself between him and the Melusine and could feel her trembling as she latched onto your clothes.
"How dare you raise your voice to me!" he shouted, swatting at your hands, forcing you to shuffle backward toward the canal. With how tightly the Melusine stood beside you, it became increasingly difficult to not trip over her.
"I can see you're angry -"
"I'm not angry, I'm annoyed. I want an apology from that - that thing, now!" He jutted his hand toward the Melusine and she hid further behind your leg. Rage billowed off him like salty wind on the high seas, every transgression equalling small cuts that made you wince. You knew there were those who dislike the Melusines, but you never had the disgusting privilege of meeting one - until now.
"I did say I was sorry, sir," she mumbled, to terrified to speak louder than a gentle caress of water over shallow rocks.
"There, will that satisfy you?" you asked, hand against his chest to keep him from moving closer. He locked eyes with you, shoulders heaving, face flush and red. His stare darted between you and her, back and forth, increasing in frustration. You moved until he couldn't see her at all. "Leave."
His lips curled into a feral sneer. "You think you're bravely protecting it, huh? If it's so important, let it face me-"
"Her."
"What?"
"I'm protecting her."
Rage swept over him and, without thinking, you shoved the Mesuline to the side and took the full force of his blow.
---
Neuvillette made his way through the crowd, chin lifted as he carefully took in the people. Some smiled at him, others bowed their heads in dutiful respect. He minded neither, but returned their gestures with a kind nod.
He rarely had intentions when he wandered through the city. It was typical for him to meander like a slow moving river carving a lazy path to nowhere in particular but today he felt a strong desire to happen upon someone. You. One who had grown rather close to him over the last several months, one who, at times, would come by to, 'check in on him,' while he worked, one who found a habit of leaving bottles of mineral-rich water on his desk when he was away. He found your company, pleasing.
Though, so far, his unassuming searching had come up empty. Did you make mention of leaving Fontaine today? He couldn't remember.
Near the canal, frustrated voices billowed on the wind. A crowd had formed in a rather unusual way. He stared, unable to see through the bunched people when something tugged on his leg.
Neuvillette pushed through the crowd. They jumped out of the way and tripped over themselves to allow him through while he looked ahead at the sight beyond their breach and felt the blackness of the sea consume him.
"Monsieur Neuvillette!" the Mesuline shouted, her eyes filled with worry.
---
"Are you okay?" The Mesuline asked, her face inches from yours as you coughed and blinked through the white. A high-pitched ring clogged your ears so you opened your mouth to clear the noise only to gasp at the pain it caused.
"You stupid -- so desperate to go down with those fucking things? Fine!" The man shouted. You looked his way just in time to see his leg fly toward your stomach. It sent you careening into the stone pathway and knocked the Mesuline halfway into the water. You tried to grab her, but she slipped from your grip when you landed on your arm, it bent unnaturally in your tumble. You cried out but that didn't stop him from slamming his foot into your chest.
Gasping, you rolled onto your back and stared at the blinding sky. It hurt to breathe, hurt to think. The Mesuline rushed toward you and you lifted a shaking arm to block them from the man's wrath.
People screamed and rushed forward to grab the man as his foot came down toward you but all you saw was radiant blue rising toward the sky, and from its shimmer came the rain.
A massive wave rose from the canal and covered the land in a shallow, unmoving layer of crystal-clear water. You could make out the bodies of onlookers but they seemed frozen, more like mirages, glistening in quiet stasis. The buildings of Fontaine reflected in the mirror-like water, making your stomach flip, but the hovering figure in the eerie blue turned your skin cold.
"What is - what's happening?" the man asked, panic seeping from him as he searched for familiar ground. He looked at his feet only to shout and stumble onto his backside. "Monsters! I told you! Those things are monsters!" He pointed to the Mesuline who was now securely tucked against your chest. She trembled, buried her face against you and held on so tightly it made you wince.
"You are mistaken," a voice said and the water fluttered, every droplet alight with energy it couldn't bear. "I am the monster you seek."
Through bleary, rain-blinded eyes, you watched the figure descend before the man and, when it was close enough, you recognized its face.
Neuvillette.
Beads of water lept from the basin to reach him like hands pawing to touch even a thread of their so-called God. You could sense the energy in the shallow pool, feel it in every drop of rain that cascaded across your face but none of it touched Neuvillette. He remained - unaffected.
"Iudex ..." the man said, his voice barely audible even in the strange quiet. Senses returning to him, he scrambled to a low, deep bow and splayed his hands beneath Neuvillette's hovering feet. "Monsieur, please, this is all just a terrible mistake."
"Have the rules of Order been unclear to you?"
"I - I don't understand."
"Your crime has been witnessed by many and yet, you stand before me, denying all accusations?"
"P-Please, Monsieur. T-they attacked me, I was just defending myself."
"It appears communication with the accused is going poorly. I shall afford you one final chance before I render judgment."
"Judgement? What-you can't!" The man stood and came up to Neuvillette's hips. "You may be the Iudex, but you can't sentence me! I deserve to be tried. You'll see - you'll see then it was all a mistake."
Neuvillette glanced your way, his eyes narrowing. When he looked back at the man, all the color drained from his face. "By order of -"
"No, wait! Please!" The man raised his hands and Neuvillette did the same.
"I render you, guilty." Power boiled below the surface and set the world rumbling. "Bow your head, and be sanctified," Neuvillette said and with his judgment, a pillar of water burst from below and consumed the man until there was nothing left.
When the waters receded, Neuvillette made his way to you. Each step steady, measured, undisturbing of the waters beneath him. He knelt at your side, laid one hand on your forehead and another on the trembling Melusine who hid further against your body.
"Neu --" you said, pain taking your voice.
"I am here," he hummed and you fell away like the tide.
---
When you awoke, you found yourself surrounded by lapping silk. Cool fabric warmed by your body heat. It hurt to lift yourself up, but only slightly. It seemed your mind remembered the pain of the day before while your body didn't. You touched your chin but it felt normal.
"I see you are awake," a voice echoed in the room but you couldn't see them. Giant rods on each corner of the bed held up a royal curtain that obscured your vision.
You were tempted to slip free from the sheets when the pitter-patter of feet held you in place and from the nothing several Melusines rushed to greet you. Each was more excited than the last. They swarmed you with thanks and laughter, sweeping you up in their joyous voices.
Another being appeared near the edge of the bed, except his presence made you go still. He moved gracefully to sit beside you and instinctually you moved so he had more room. He noticed.
Neuvillette frowned. "I have frightened you," he said, sorrowful as dropped his gaze.
"What? No, I'm not -" You reached for him then pulled back at the last minute. He noticed. "I'm not afraid of you. I swear."
He contemplated your reply for what felt like forever before nodding in acceptance. "I hope you do not mind the accommodations. I had little place else to take you."
You tried to not think about it too much. It was almost certain this was - as you now suspected - his room. "It's fine," you replied and hoped the shadows didn't betray the heat rising in your cheeks.
"I am pleased to hear." Neuvillette smiled and let his eyes drift to the Mesulines surrounding you. "I believe thanks are in order."
"You're the one who saved me though."
"That may be true, yet it was you who protected the Mesulines, was it not?"
Your palm went flush against one of their backs. You didn't think much at the time, it was just - "It was the only thing to do."
"Indeed," he said, his eyes soft, kind, and fixed on your own. You dropped them under the pressure only for your heart to stop when his hand cupped your chin so he could look at you again. "I am grateful."
You looked at him, tried to breathe, tried to force words - any words - through your throat but all you could manage were several shallow nods to which he responded by running his finger across your cheek - leaving you drowning.
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