#come closer. its all connected

[stupidsexygrizzop]

relistening to episode 130 after knowing what happens in season 15 activates the part of my brain that wants to just

[arovalentines]

time to make your choice only you can be the one

[bmpmp3]

character designers when they need to design a mascot for a masculine vocal synthesizer: and i will put a mole. under his LEFT eye

[tommygotwrittenoff]

my favorite thing about bt is when there's an opportunity for buck and t to have a deeper connection, but then t just shuts it down. like, go girl, give us nothing!!!!

[statementlou]

In the article that came out this morning about Andrew Cushin's album, Pete Doherty was quoted being defensive about his decision to collaborate with Louis, saying, “Look at some of the great labels, look at The Sex Pistols with Malcolm McLaren getting together with Richard Branson. Over the years, labels’ main aim was to be a springboard for their artists to get as many people to hear the music they believe in. Whatever that takes – if that means having a major label take you up the alley for five minutes I will do that for my artists any day of the week.” Initially this just pissed me off (and it still does) but the more I thought about the more fascinating it is actually. There's never been any question that 78 Productions' role in co-releasing Andrew Cushin's album is primarily financial, and I'd say this confirms that, but he's saying more than that; he's saying that Louis and his label, that has never had a single release before now, offer more than just cash, that it is on par with Virgin Records in its infancy because of the position and reach Louis has in the industry... and he can be as sour as he wants about it, that's a hell of an admission and not a position you just automatically hold by being a former boyband member. We already know this but that doesn't mean I don't love it when people say it out loud!

[like-sands-of-time]

I wonder what ani and padmé would have been like as parents to Luke and Leia, and later grandparents to Ben. Like I don't have any great developed thoughts on that whole au concept I just do love the thought. Ben has so much impressive family, and a lot of uncles and aunts to look up to. If a lot of things had gone a lot differently, idk how, and padmé and ani got to grow older and stronger together, if Ben were to have his grandfather not only as a legend but as a person to hold him and tell him stories, I wonder what that would have been like.

[cumironi]

‘ SSSHH, BEWARE OF THE FOOTSTEPS！

feat. gojo, geto, toji, sukuna, nanami, shiu

𖧷 sum. “ssshh, keep quiet,” they moan in your ear, breath burning your skin despite the cool air of the night. sēx outside can be very tricky, but. . . getting caught or not, it’s up to you: whether you can’t keep your moán to yourself or. . . not.

warning. outdoors/public space, exhibitionism, dōuble-penetration ( sukuna ), petnames, overstim, praises, name-calling, choke(s), under influence ( gojo, all consent ), dirty talk, spank(s).

＃ GOJO SATORU

your giggles grow louder rhythm along the way you bounce on gojo’s thick cock, the friction sending waves of pleasure through your body. the alcohol has loosened your inhibitions, allowing you to be more carefree and playful in your lovemaking. “baby...” you whimper, grinding down on him harder as you ride his lap. your wet cunt clings tightly to his shaft, the heat, and tightness driving him wild.

“you’re such a naughty girl, always begging for more of my cock,” gojo teases, his hands gripping your hips as he thrusts up into you. his blue eyes sparkle with mischief and arousal, drowsy from alcohol. “i think ’m going to have to punish you for being such a bad girl. you couldn’t even wait until we got home, huh?”

gojo grins at you, crocked, his fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you hard and fast, his massive cock stretching your cunt to its limits. “yeah, looks like i’ve got a little slut on my hands,” he says, his voice low and husky with desire. “a filthy girl who can’t control herself around me.”

he lifts your skirt higher, exposing more of your ass as he slaps it hard, the sound echoing through the quiet yard. “this is what happens when you’re a bad girl, sweetheart. you get punished.” gojo thrusts up into you again, his length hitting deep inside your womb. “and right now, i’m the judge, jury, and executioner.”

you laugh before a sharp cry escapes your lips the second gojo’s palm— big and cold— connects with your ass, the stinging sensation mingling with the intense pleasure from his relentless pounding. your cunt clenches around his thick cock, drawing him in deeper with each thrust.

“you are so silly,” you cringed between your giggles, bracing yourself against his chest as you continue to ride him wildly. the combination of the cool evening air, the warmth of his body beneath you, and the intoxicating liquor coursing through your veins has you lost in a haze of lust and euphoria.

“sshh, we should be quiet,” you whisper, again, giggling, your voice breathless and desperate between the laugh. nails dig into his shoulders as you grind down onto him, seeking that perfect angle to make you come undone. gojo chuckles darkly at your whispered plea, his grip on your hips tightening as he continues to fuck you mercilessly. “shh, yeah, keep quiet, baby,” he murmurs, his hot breath tickling your ear. “we don’t want anyone hearing how loud and dirty this little slut is getting fucked out here.”

his words send a tingling, flames of stars from your shoulder straight to your cunt, and you bite your lip to stifle another giggle. gojo’s cock is so deep inside you, stroking that sensitive spot within your core with every powerful thrust. you can feel his balls slapping against your cunt, adding to the overwhelming sensations crashing through your body.

“fuck, you’re so tight,” gojo groans, his face contorting in pleasure. “i can feel your cunt squeezing me like a vice. you love my big dick, don’t you?” your legs tremble as gojo’s thick cock stretches and fills you completely, the pleasure bordering on pain as he hits that sweet spot deep within your core over and over. you throw your head back, your long hair cascading down your back as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations.

“your mom and dad might see us,” you declare between the giggle instead of answering, warm breath fanning your boyfriend’s face the minute you lean closer. the mix of the rough grass beneath you, the cool night air, and gojo’s searing heat enveloping— a dangerous mix of cocktails of lust and pleasure that sends you spiraling out of your mind.

gojo smirks up at you, his piercing blue eyes gleaming with lust and mischief. “let ’em watch,” he says, his voice low and husky. “they already know i’m a perverted bastard. nothing new there. they know better than to disturb me when i’m fucking their daughter-in-law.” he grips your hips harder, pulling you down onto his cock as he drives upward, burying himself to the hilt inside your dripping pussy. “fuuuck, you feel amazing,” gojo groans, his forehead pressing against yours as he starts to lose himself in the pleasure. “i could cum inside you right now, fill this naughty girl up with my seed.”

his words send a jolt of excitement through you, and you begin to move faster, riding him with reckless abandon. the thought of gojo marking you, claiming you as his, pushes you closer to the edge. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the yard, punctuated by your high-pitched moans, giggle and gasps.

he leans in, capturing your mouth in a fierce kiss, his tongue plundering yours as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. gojo breaks the kiss, panting heavily, his blue eyes blazing with intensity. “you’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you, baby? i can feel your pussy twitching around my cock.”

# GETO SUGURU

gasps sharply as geto’s thick cock plunges deep inside you, your body jolting against the cold metal railing. you bite your lip hard, trying to stifle a moan at the intense sensation of being taken so roughly out here in the open air. “sh-shh...” you manage to whisper, your voice trembling slightly. “fuck— sugu’ be quiet,” just a second, you glare at your boyfriend over your shoulder.

fingers curling around the rusty, dirty balcony fence tighter, your knuckles turning white as he pounds into you relentlessly. the force of each thrust makes my breasts bounce and rub against the rough fabric of his shirt that you wear. you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft stretching you wide, hitting all the right spots inside you.

“oh god— baby,” breathe out, your words barely audible over the sound of your heavy breathing and the creaking of the wooden floor beneath you. “hah! look who’s talking tough now,” geto chuckles lowly, his breath hot against your ear as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. his hands grip your hips tight, fingers digging into your flesh as he uses them to pull you back onto his cock with each brutal thrust. he is not even bothering to keep his voice down as he continues to pound into you mercilessly. his mission is only one : make the stupid neighbors stop flirting with you.

“you’re the one making all those cute little noises,” he teases, his voice dripping with amusement. “i bet they can hear you moaning all the way down the hall. ’m surprised they haven’t called the cops yet,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he growls, “and i’m going to keep doing this until you can’t take anymore.”

geto reaches around to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly through the fabric of the shirt. he pinches your nipple between his fingers, meannn, twisting it just enough to send a jolt of pleasure-pain straight to your cunt. the action earn a choked whimper escapes your throat at the cruel twist of your nipple, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. geto’s pace quickens, his hips snapping forward with increased urgency. the balcony’s fence creaks ominously under the force of your coupling, but he shows no signs of slowing down. “come on doll, scream for me,” he commands, his voice low and husky with desire. “let everyone know who’s fucking you senseless out here.”

your pussy clenches tightly around geto’s thick cock, milking him as he continues to ravage you with wild abandon. “ah-ahh! s-suguuuu’!” you cry out, unable to contain yourself any longer. the rough treatment of your sensitive nub, combined with the relentless pounding of his shaft, pushes you precariously close to the edge.

geto’s mocking words only fuel the fire within you, igniting a dark, primal desire that demands release. as he grips your hip harder, pulling you back onto him with bruising force, you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensations. “hhn! oh f-fuck, s-shouldd- quiet,” you wail, your voice rising to a desperate keen, whispering like a mantra to yourself.

geto grins wickedly, pleased by your desperate attempts to stifle your cries. however, he clearly has no intention of letting up anytime soon. “that’s right, let it out,” he encourages, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. “moan for me, doll. show everyone how much you love getting fucked raw by your boyfriend out in the open.”

he punctuates his words with another vicious thrust, burying himself to the hilt inside you. the obscene squelch of skin meeting skin echoes loudly across the balcony, mingling with your ragged breaths and the creaking of the railing beneath you. geto leans in close, his lips hovering mere inches from your ear as he whispers, “come on, i know you can be louder than that,” his breath burning, spit all the pleasure with his dirty talk. “show me how much you love getting fucked in public. let everyone know who’s making you cum so hard.”

you can tell geto was loving seeing you struggle to hold back your moans. he continued to push deeper and faster into your wet heat, stretching your walls around his thickness with every powerful stroke. his grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your skin as he used your body for his own pleasure— and his punching-jealosy bag. you could feel the veins in his cock pulsing against your inner walls, throbbing with need.

a strangled sob tears from your throat as geto’s words wash over you, each syllable a sharp blade cutting through your last vestiges of restraint. the shameless, public nature of your tryst, coupled with the unrelenting assault on your senses, finally shatters the fragile barrier holding back your climax.

“fuck, fuck, fuuuck,” you shriek, your voice a raw, guttural cry that seems to reverberate off the very walls of the building. your body convulses violently, back arching as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over you. your pussy clamps down around geto’s pistoning cock like a vice, rhythmically milking him as you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm. the sheer intensity of your release leaves you gasping and twitching, utterly spent.

# TOJI FUSHIGURO

breathless moans escape your lips as toji pounds into you relentlessly, the bamboo walls creaking with each powerful thrust. the sound of waves crashing outside mingles with your ragged panting, creating an erotic symphony.

“mm— baby. .” you gasp, your hands bracing against the rough bamboo as he grips your hips, pulling you back onto his thick cock each time while you, uncontrollably desperate to keep your mouth shut from spreading the moan and sin to everyone around— there are children around for fuck sake. the cool ocean breeze wafts through the open ceiling of the structure, sending shivers down your spine even as your body burns with desire. your clit throbs in time with toji’s sleepless strokes.

“shhh... i gotchu, ma,” toji whispers huskily in your ear, feeling your body tremble beneath him. he tightens his grip on your hips, fucking you harder, faster, driven by lust and the thrill of getting caught. the thought of someone discovering them sends a dark thrill through him. leaning over your shoulder, he nips at your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks making a sharp cry tears from your throat as toji bites down on your neck, his teeth sinking deep enough to draw blood. his free hand snakes around to rub your clit in firm circles, pushing you closer to the land of climax and pleasure just for a second. “gonna fill this tight pussy up, ma,” he growls, his voice low and rough with arousal.

the pain only heightens your pleasure, making your inner walls clench greedily around his pistoning cock. the bamboo structure creaks ominously under your frenzied coupling, but toji doesn’t care. all that matters is claiming you right here, right now, consequences be damned. you whimper, your head thrown back against his chest as he assaults your sensitive flesh with his fingers and mouth. the knowledge that you are so close to being discovered only fuels the fire raging within you.

your hips buck wildly, meeting each of toji’s powerful thrusts as he drives into you with primal intensity. the wet slap of skin on skin echoes through the small, tiny, wee space, mingling with your ragged breathing and toji’s guttural grunts. toji’s arms snake around your slippery skin for the nth time, to press firmly against your belly, encouraging you to arch into him, to meet his thrusts head-on— bend your stomach deeper into the bulge of his thick cock that peeks at your abandonment.

“fuck yeah— come on ma, i know you can do it,” toji snarls, pounding into you with reckless abandon. he can feel your body starting to tighten around him, and it spurs him on. he wants to push you over the edge, make you scream his name for all to hear. fingers dancing lower, he roughly pinches your clit, rubbing it between his fingers in harsh, rapid circles. at the same time, he leans in close, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he whispers filthy promises. “gonna cum so deep inside you, mark you as mine. everyone will know who you belong to.”

# RYOMEN SUKUNA

whimpers softly, overwhelmed by the intense sensation of being filled so completely by sukuna’s enormous cocks. tears continue to stream down your cheeks— struggle to even do as much as catch your breath, each thrust sending waves of pleasure-pain crashing through you.

# NANAMI KENTO

panting heavily, i manage a weak, “my lord. .” your voice is barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin and sukuna’s lewd grunts of satisfaction. his twice or three times bigger mouth on his stomach lick the small of your back— it smirks, your cunt can feel it.

sukuna chuckles darkly at your feeble attempt to address him properly, his four arms gripping you tighter as he pounds into you relentlessly. the tongue on his stomach licks up your spine, leaving a trail of saliva that tingles on your sensitive skin. his upper pair of hands reach around to grasp your breasts, squeezing and kneading them roughly as he fucks you harder. the third hand slides down to rub your clit, making sure to hit that sweet spot with every stroke.

“foolish mortal,” he sneers, his voice low and menacing. “you should be grateful i deign to use you for my pleasure. your pitiful cries only spur me on.” one of his hands slides around to fondle your breast roughly, pinching and twisting your nipple between his fingers. his other hand reaches down to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, forcing your body to respond despite your mind’s protests.

cries out sharply as sukuna tweaks your nipple, the sudden jolt of pain mixing with the overwhelming pleasure from his cocks and touch. “ah! m-my lord, please...” your hips buck involuntarily, meeting his thrusts as his skilled hands work to push you closer to the edge. “this is— too much, i-i can’t...”

trembling, you clench around the thick cocks stretching your inner walls, desperate for some respite but knowing it won’t come anytime soon. “just- just give me a moment, i need...” your eyes hooded, half-heartedly open and find the open garden surrounded you, few of his servants passed by— yet, despite them didn’t have enough the courage to look directly, the voice of skin roughly kiss, your desperate-slutty moan, and sukuna’s rough grumble was obvious.

sobbing quietly, you try to gather your fragmented thoughts, dreading what further degradation or humiliation sukuna might inflict upon you once he’s finished using your body for his twisted amusement. sukuna laughs cruelly at your pleas, his tone dripping with sadistic glee. “a moment? how quaint. you think you have control over this?”

instead, he speeds up his pace, the wet sounds of his cocks pistoning in and out of you growing louder. the tongue on his stomach slithers up to your ear, licking the shell before whispering, “i think you need to learn your place, silly mortal. and if begging for mercy is what it takes...”

his fourth arm moves to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. “perhaps a little choking will help you focus on the present. now, beg properly. beg me to let you cum, to grant you this fleeting pleasure.”

the hand on your clit intensifies its ministrations, rubbing circles that send sparks of ecstasy shooting through your nerves. with that, he redoubles his efforts, slamming his cocks deep inside you with brutal force. the sounds of flesh meeting flesh echo through the garden, mingling with your choked sobs and the occasional gasp from passing servants who can’t help but steal glances at the depraved scene.

the servant who dared to glance your way quickly looks away, not wanting to meet sukuna’s wrathful gaze. they all know better than to disturb their master when he’s indulging in such carnal pleasures. sukuna tightens his grip around your throat slightly, his smirk growing wider as he watches the effect it has on you. he leans in close, his hot breath washing over your ear as he whispers, “look at them, pet. can you see how they’re staring? envious of the privilege i’m granting you, of the pleasure you get to experience at my hands.”

his fingers dig into your neck, applying just enough pressure to make your vision blur at the edges. “they wish they could be in your position right now, don’t they? wishing they could feel my cocks inside them, wishing they could hear their own desperate moans echoing through the garden.”

your vision starts to blur from lack of oxygen as sukuna tightens his grip around your throat. panic sets in as you claw at his wrist, desperate for air. he chuckles darkly, amused by your struggles. just as you're about to pass out, sukuna releases his hold, allowing you to gulp in a ragged breath. he watches with perverse fascination as you tremble and wheeze, your body still wracked by the aftershocks of his relentless pounding.

sukuna’s hand on your clit becomes a blur of motion, rubbing and pinching in a relentless rhythm designed to drive you to the brink of insanity.

he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close as he rocks into you slowly. his voice is low and husky, filled with desire even as he tries to keep things discreet. with his other hand, he gently cup your cheek, tilting your face up towards him, thumb brushing across your lips as he tries to silence your pleasured moans. “shh, my love... i know it feels amazing, but we need to be quiet so no one knows what we’re doing here.”

his brown eyes filled with adoration and lust, blend like a mix of cocktails under the dim blue and purple bar lights. “i want to hear you, but not like this. let me take care of you when we get home, okay? right now, just relax for me...” he punctuates his words with a deep, slow thrust, making you gasp despite yourself. his deep voice is a soothing whisper against your ear as he rocks his hips. one after another while keeping his hard length buried within your cunt. “just focus on how good i make you feel, okay? let me take care of everything.”

your body shudders at the intensity of his words, his touch igniting sparks that race through your veins. you nod frantically, unable to form coherent responses over the crescendo of pleasure building inside you. instead, you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling into his warmth as you cling to him desperately.

your hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction, more pressure against your sensitive clit. you can’t help the whimpers that escape, muffled against his skin, as he continues to stroke that perfect spot deep within you. each deliberate thrust sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, threatening to consume you whole and drowning you all the way.

desperate to stifle the sounds of your desperation, you press your mouth to his throat, sucking gently on the pulse point there. the subtle pain mixes with the overwhelming pleasure. the sound of music and everyone push painfully far away to the back of your head, and everything becomes grey with how much the sounds of nanami’s breathing kissing your ear. all warm, soft and just him. “baby..”

he inhales sharply as you suck on his throat, the sudden rush of sensation sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. his grip on you tightens reflexively, fingers digging into your hip bones as he struggles to maintain control. the urge to claim you harder, faster, more forcefully is almost overwhelming, but he resists, determined to please you rather than succumb to base instinct.

with a herculean effort, he steadies his movements, focusing on long, slow strokes designed to stretch and fill you without jarring you against the seat or drawing unwanted attention. he lets out a low groan, the sound vibrating against your ear as he fights to hold back his own climax. “my love... the love of my life,” he breathes, the endearment barely audible over the thumping bass.

overwhelmed by the intense sensations coursing through every fiber of your being, you can only whimper and tremble in nanami’s arms. the steady rhythm of his thrusts, the heat of his body enveloping yours, the sweet ache of his fingers digging into your flesh— it all blends together into an exquisite symphony of pleasure.

it was painfully slow, but when he was sensing your impending release, nanami’s hands begin to roam your body, tracing the curves of your waist, the swell of your breasts, before coming to rest on your thighs. he spreads them wider, angling his hips to hit that magical spot inside you with precision. the added pressure sends you spiraling toward the edge, your inner walls clenching and fluttering around his thick length.

nanami’s eyes darken with lust as he watches you lose yourself in pleasure, your body tensing and trembling in his grasp. he leans in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, swallowing the desperate little noises you make. his tongue dances with yours, matching the rhythm of the loud music, alsooo, mirroring the rhythm of his hips as he continues to stroke into you, hitting that sweet spot again and again.

# SHIU KONG

he breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, nibbling and sucking marks into your tender skin. “so beautiful,” he murmurs against your flesh, his voice heavy with desire. “i could look at you forever.” his hands slide higher, cupping your breasts through the fabric of your top. he thumbs your nipples, coaxing them to hardness as he teases and plucks at the sensitive buds.

breathless, eyes wide with excitement and guilt as you look around at your secluded spot amidst the bamboo forest. gasp as another wave of pleasure crashes over you from your thick cock stretching your velvet walls. eyes flustered closed while your fingers curled up, wrapping the fabric of his suit around.

“fuck, it feels so good...“ you start moving faster on top of him, riding him harder as the thrill of getting caught only heightens your arousal. you lean down to capture his lips in a passionate kiss, moaning into his mouth as you continue to bounce on his lap, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. “we’re being so naughty out here in the open... what if someone walks by and catches us in the act?” you asked, tone nonchalant so the heartbeat once you pull away.

a low groan escapes shiu’s throat, feels your tight heat gripping his cock tighter with each hard ride. his hands grip your hips, guiding you to fuck yourself on him even deeper— panting heavily, he looks up at you with lust-filled eyes.

“let ’em,” he rasps, his voice husky with desire. “i want everyone to see how badly i’m fucking you right now.” shiu’s fingers dig into your flesh, pulling you down to slam your cunt onto his shaft again and again. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the quiet woods, mixing with your high-pitched moans and his deep growls.

“you’re so goddamn sexy like this,” he whispers, his hot breath fanning across your ear. “riding my dick in public, not giving a damn who sees...” your body trembles as shiu’s words, intensifying the burning need within you. you throw your head back, lost in the ecstasy of being taken so roughly, so publicly. each harsh thrust makes you cry out, your voice carrying through the stillness of the bamboo grove.

“sooo dirty,” you tease between giggling, grinding your clit against him as you impale yourself on his thick cock. your hands slide up your sides to cup your breasts, squeezing and tugging at your nipples as you continue to ride shiu with wild abandon. leaning down, you capture his lips once more, kissing him deeply as you move, your tongues tangling in a heated dance.

shiu meets your fervent kisses with equal passion, his tongue delving deep into your mouth as he devours you whole. his large hands roam your curves, squeezing and kneading your supple flesh as he drinks in every moan and whimper that spills from your lips. few seconds and he breaking the kiss to trails his mouth along your jawline, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. “mmm, such a naughty girl,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice dripping with approval. “wants to get caught, huh? wants everyone to know you’re mine.”

shiu’s fingers find their way beneath the hem of your shirt, skimming up your stomach to pinch and roll your hardened nipples. he watches intently as you writhe above him, your breasts bouncing with each frenzied movement. one hand leaves your hip to palm your breast, thumbing your nipple through the fabric of your shirt before slipping beneath to tease the hardened bud directly. you let out a sharp gasp as shiu’s skilled fingers play with your nipples, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“mmm, feel that, doll?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with lust. “your tits are so sensitive, i bet they’d be perfect for my mouth.” the sensation of his warm breath on your skin and his filthy words make you ache for more. “please!” you beg, arching your back to push your chest further into his touch.

with a wicked grin, shiu pulls your shirt up and off, revealing your heaving breasts to the cool air and his hungry gaze. he wastes no time, taking one pert nipple into his mouth and suckling greedily, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.

you moan loudly, head thrown back in bliss as he lavishes attention on your other breast, pinching and rolling the neglected nipple between his fingers. shiu releases your nipple with a wet pop, leaving it glistening and swollen. he gazes up at you with dark, lustful eyes, his own chest heaving with exertion.

“that’s it, baby,” he coaxes, his voice rough with desire. “make some noise for me. let everyone know how much you love having my cock buried deep inside you.” he punctuates his words with a particularly forceful thrust, making you cry out in pleasure. shiu grins, pleased with himself.

leaning forward, he takes your other nipple into his mouth, suckling and nibbling until you’re squirming and mewling above him. his free hand slides down your side, tracing the curve of your hip before dipping lower to rub at your clit in slow, deliberate circles.

“you’re so close, aren’t you?”

[s0dium]

𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐍

Haikyuu men x Reader

A/n: This is part of my Olympic event, please click on the for more! If you would like to suggest something for this event don't hesitate!

Synopsis: What do Haikyuu men do after the Olympics? Well, they do you

Warnings: Spanking, fingering, praise, groping, squirting

The camera zooms in on the bustling Olympic stadium in Paris, its energy palpable even through the television screen. The crowd's roaring cheers reverberate, celebrating the electrifying victory of the Japanese volleyball team. Among the sea of jubilant teammates, the camera focuses on one player, your boyfriend, glistening with sweat and wearing an infectious smile: fresh from clinching the gold medal.

As he steps away from the celebratory huddle, a reporter, microphone in hand, intercepts him. The reporter's voice is enthusiastic, mirroring the atmosphere, "So, what are your plans to celebrate the big win?"

He chuckles, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, his grin widening, "Well, after drinks with the guys," he pauses, "I have a little post-game ritual."

Intrigued, the reporter leans in, the crowd's cheers serving as a dramatic backdrop, "Oh yeah? What's that?"

He winks at the camera, "Secret."

Yes a secret it was, one that only you and him knew. One that started off with you being bent over his knee with his fingers deep in your creamy cunt.

"Been thinking about this all day," he murmurs, right hand caressing the fat of your ass while his left curls and massages the sweet part of your gummy walls that makes your eyes roll back. At this point you have given up resisting, letting your body hang limp over his muscular thighs.

As his fingers probe and massage your gspot, the wet sounds of your arousal fill the room, an intoxicating symphony that drowns out all other thoughts. Each movement, each touch, creates a chorus of slick, rhythmic noises that seem to echo in your mind, pushing you further into a state of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

"So good," you whine and you don't know it but the tips of his ears go red from the sound of your voice. Your brain begins to haze, the world around you blurring until all that exists is the sensation of his ministrations. His touch is both fast and demanding, knowing exactly how to tease and please, drawing you closer to the edge. He reaches a spot inside you that you can only dream about reaching with your own fingers.

"I know baby, I know you feel good. Shit, i cant feel you squeezing my fingers." he groans at the feeling of your cunt convulsing around his digits. He is already two fingers deep in you but at this point he's thinking about stretching you further and slipping in a third. So he does. Using your dripping arousal as lubricant he slips in a third finger making your thighs tremble from the sudden intrusion. The stretch is delicious, who knew a volleyball player's hands had other uses besides volleyball?

"I won for you princess, the whole time i was playing I was thinking about you."

You can feel your pussy tighten and convulse at his words, the clicking sound of your arousal a testament to your connection, your mutual need.

Time loses all meaning as you surrender to the overwhelming sensations. His fingers, his praises, every part of him is dedicated to driving you wild, and you find yourself unable to hold back the moans that escape your lips. The noises you make together are primal, raw, and they pull you deeper into the abyss of pleasure.

"M'feel weird," You choke. Your breath comes in short, sharp gasps as the sensations become almost overwhelming. You feel something press down on your core like there is a pressure building inside you, a sweet, urgent tension that demands release.

"Shhh its ok, let it go baby." He coos and before you can respond he delivers a sharp smack to your ass. "make a mess on my hands, come on~"

The pleasure is so intense, so all-consuming, that it creates an almost paradoxical sensation. The euphoria is so great it feels as though you might lose control, as if you need to pee. It's a raw, primal feeling that heightens the urgency and the pleasure, pushing you further toward the edge.

You squeeze your eyes shut, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity. Your mind races, caught between the need to let go and the fear of losing control. Then, it hits you. with a curl of his fingers against your wall, you surrender to it, letting the sensation wash over you.

Your are too lost in the ecstasy to realize that you are squirting all over his hand. It's like an explosion, your body trembling, your mind going blank, consumed entirely by the pleasure he has given you.

"Just like that, let it go y/n let it go." His hands rubs circles on your ass as your body shakes and trembles from your orgasm.

"So perfect so perfect, the best prize I swear."

HINATA, KUROO, BOKUTO, OIKAWA, TSUKISHIMA, Kenma, Ushijima, IWAZUMI, AKASHI, ATSUMU

[angelicblondie]

popstar!reader x bodyguard!rafe ~~~ pre-award show ride 18 + MINORS DNI

the scent of tom fords tobacco vanilla and victoria secret tease wafted in the back of the limo, filling your nostrils with the sweetest fusion. kind of symbolic, you thought, of you and rafe - the perfect pair.

your heel tapped on the floor of the car as you sat poised in your seat, rafe sitting to your right, arms rested on the tinted window seal as he gazed out onto the streets.

your eyes flickered to him every so often, almost like you couldn't help it, almost like there was simply a magnetic pull - always has been with the two of you.

tonight was the VMAs, and unlike the very beginning of your carreer, award shows were a lot less daunting. you were up for a couple categories, and even thus far into your career you couldn't shake the pre-show nerves.

rafe looked over, noticing the tapping of your heel which he had come to realize as a nervous habit by now. "hey," he called out, "you good?"

you look over, fluttering your lashes a bit. "why? lookin' to make me better?"

rafe, used to your flirting by now, rolled his eyes with a breathy laugh. "jesus, kid, next time i wont ask."

you bit your lip, moving your leg over to nudge his. "sorry," you held back a giggle, yet you words were sincere. "m'good, just nerves."

he hummed in understanding, looking down as your legs before looking back out the window, his hand wordlessly coming down to grip above your knee, his thumb smoothing over the skin.

you swallowed, taking a breath and attempting to relax into your seat. it was crazy how one little touch from him sent your heart aflame, beating against your chest as warmness spread throughout you. rafe just had that affect on you.

sure, you played it cool - being charismatic was an essential part of your job, you were a master at it. but rafe....he was different. you covered it up by quick remarks and flirty liners, but deep down you both knew that what you two shared - the connection you - was a lot more than that.

a lot more than that time in your dressing room back on tour.

since then, you two had gone back to normal...in your own way. except this time, normal consisted of sly touches and longing looks. heated makeouts once in a blue moon (if your lucky), and knowing stares.

it was exciting, exhilarating, even. you felt in control, even though you had never really felt more helpless. but really, it made sense - everything else in your life was hardly your decision. you didn't get to pick the tour dates, you didn't get to pick which cities, which stadiums. you don't get to pick what events you go to, or when the album deadline is, or who your paired up with on PR dates - thats the managments choice, not yours. a lot of the time, it feels likes your life isnt yours.

but when your with rafe...that all changes.

you could hear the faint sound of classical music that the driver mustve been playing, muffled by the closed divider. the silence between you and rafe was comfortable, his thumb continuing to rub your skin as you tried to pull your eyes away from the contact.

after a moment, rafe speaks up. "when we get there, walk straight to the carpet. take a couple photos, answer a couple questions from reporters, and meet us on the other side."

you sigh softly, rolling your eyes. "i know, i know. its the same every time, rafey," you say, faux annoyed.

He hums, squeezing your leg. "just lookin' out f'you," he grumbles, turning away.

you giggle under your breath, seeing his frustration. you reach over to his leg teasingly, squeezing his lower thigh. "aw, c'mon, m'sorry," you mumble, as he looks back, scoffing out a laugh. "whatever, kid. feeling less nervous?"

your heart beat faster against your chest at your now closer proximity. whilst you certainly feel less nervous, you didn't want him to know that. your bit your lip. "not really," your murmur, to which his lips tilt up a bit, sensing your bluff. "no?" he questions.

you nod in agreement, you eyes locked on his, transfixed by the blue. you bit your lip, sitting up straighter in your seat. "yeah...i dunno, i was kind of hoping for a distraction?"

rafe lets out a laugh, catching your drift, leaning back on his seat. "nah, kid, thats bad. m'not gonna mess you up when you got all pretty. the press would love that."

you pout. "i dont mind..." you trail of, keeping eye contacy as your hands trails up his thigh. "please?" you all but whisper.

rafe purses his lips, hand rubbing his jaw. after a moment, he flicks his head in a nod. "alright, c'mon."

with his signal your slowly lean over, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. when the kiss starts slow, rafe breaks apart, smirking. "gone all soft on me?" he whispers. you swallow as your eyes remain on his lips as his do yours. "maybe," you whisper back, reconnection your lips in a more heated kiss, climbing up on his lap.

rafe moves your long dress to pool over the two of you, his hands holding the silky thin material covering your back. your hands gripped his biceps through his suit, humming into his mouth as your lips continued to dance.

your panties brushed over his lap and each time you moved you took in a sharp inhale of breath, causing him to grin into the kiss. his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing the plump covered skin, resulting in you arching your back into him, pressing you into his chest.

"so needy," he mumbled against you, hands still laid flat on your backside. with rosy cheeks, you murmur a flustered, "shut up," but dont deny his words.

with your lips still attached, rafe slipped his hands under the silk, his hands hot over your skin. i hum against him, reaching down to fiddle with his belt, breathing into him.

he hummed back, toying with the lacy sides of your panties. "sure you want to?" he questions breathlessly in a low voice.

"mhm, m'sure," you respond, eyes flickering up from his belt to meet his, cheeks red under his hot gaze. all of the sudden you felt shy, your movement faltering.

his lips quirked up warm smirk, he slid his hands off your skin and moved them down to his belt, finishing the job for you. "i got it," he murmurs, eyes locked on yous.

you bite your lip and looks down, watching as he slides his pants and boxers down to his ankles as you sit up a little. his hands move to your waist, moving you back up his body to hover over his lap. you look back up to him sliding you panties to the side and lining up your entrance with his dick.

you sink down, both of you sucking in breaths at the contact. rafe throws his head back, eyes shutting at the sensation and squeezing your waist, letting out a low groan. you clench around him at the sounds and bite back a whimper, hands pressing against his shoulders.

"oh, rafe," you sigh, body slumping in pleasure as he fills you slowly. "i know princess, i know," he murmurs, voice filled with the same lightness as yours.

"doing so good," he praises, leaning forwards to place a kiss on your shoulder. you hum, starting to lift yourself up, before slowly sliding back down.

rafe guides you, helping to ride him, slowly. every movement pleasurably stings, his length filling you up, causing you to squeeze around him.

euphoria fills you as does he. you feel the warmth of his hot breath against your skin and his hands over the silk covering your hips, the soft grunts and graon coming from his perfect lips. his throbbing head hits your spot, causing you to let out a breathy moan and grip his chiseled shoulders.

when he feels you clench around him, he grins, sliding his rough hands up your back. "close, yeah?" he whispers, and you quickly nod, a pout on your lips and your brows furrowed. "mhm," you answer, biting down on your lip as you look down, watching as you lift up, your dress moving aside to reveal the sight of your around him, causing you to take in a sharp inhale of air.

rafe follows your line of sight, and bites his lip, concentrated on the movement. he looks back up at you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek, bringing you focus to him. "hey, look at me," he orders, "want you lookin at me when i make you cum."

you hum, folding your lips inwards as you continue to ride him, not looking away from his face.

"rafe," you whimper, movement getting sloppy. "i know, i've got you," he mumbles, his hands moving down to once again guide you up and down his cock.

"shit," you curse, feeling that coil in your stomach tighten. "m'close."

"let go, baby, c'mon. i've got you."

at his word, the coil burst, euphoria washing over you as your throw your head back, eyes rolling back.

rafe marveled at the sight, in awe as he watched you come down. his hands kept moving you up and down him, letting you ride out your high.

you collapse on top of him, panting into his neck as he let out a chuckle, holding you close to him. you two sit in silence, chests heaving up and down with every breath. "feelin less nervous?" rafe humorously whispers, causing you to let out a breathy laugh, lifting up to dismount him. his words lead you back to reality, remembering that in just a few short minutes, you would be strutting on a red carpet.

you hum. "much. how do i look?"

rafe tilts his head as he tugs his pants back up, considering you. "like you just got your shit rocked."

you scoff out a laugh. "seriouslly."

he laughs. "you look good. you always do."

your cheeks get rosy. your lips form in a pout though, once you realize that you were the only one who came.

he sees your guilty expressions and smiles slightly, waving it off. "dont worry, i'll be ok."

your lips lift in a coy smile. "im not worried," you say, your voice tilting seductively. "we may not have enough time right now but..." you trail off, sliding your panties back up your legs. "i have a good feeling im going to need to slip off to the bathroom somtime during the show, and of course i'll need my bodyguard to escort me," you say, playfully.

he pokes his tongue into his cheek, shaking his head. "your trouble."

you dont respond to his statement, simply shrugging before slumping back into your seat, pulling out your lipgloss and hand mirror, fixing the smudge. after checking over the rest of your appearance, you put everything back in your purse, smacking your lips and looking out the window.

you watch as the car rolls up, the sight of fans, paparazzi, and flashes filling your view.

you sigh, look to the side to see rafe getting ready to step out. he tilts his brows. "ready?"

you nod, biting your lip. "ready."

[mellowwillowy]

Bathtub sex with your husband because he was suddenly all petty and jealous with your servants helping you bathe.

CW: NSFW, slight yandere, GN Reader

Your husband had always been an understanding man, he thought with a cool head and logic all the time. He would never get jealous of his love rivals, reasoning he was way better of an option than they would ever be.

Yes, he was not arrogant but he knew his own self-worth. He knew he had always been the best for you.

So why did he suddenly insist on helping you bathe?

“Dear, did you mean bathing with me or did I hear you wrong?” You stood next to him as he prepared the water for you. The scent he chose had always been floral, something that smelled innocent in a sense.

Your husband shook his face as he felt the temperature of the water. It welcomed him warmly, assuring him that it was the perfect temperature for you to relax already. Yulian beckoned you to enter the bathtub and so you did.

He pushed a cart of bathroom amenities, the aromatherapy candles all lit to light the room enough for as he switched the lights off.

You sighed at the sensation, slowly melting into one with the water. Yulian sat by the tub, his hands slowly massaging your tense shoulders as he hummed a lullaby for you.

“How lucky are the servants who help you bathe to see you like this every day.” He whispered into your ears as you giggled.

“Are you envious of them?”

Yulian stayed silent for a moment as he poured water over your head, “Recently,” he spoke as he poured the ointment into his hands, “I’ve been seeing lots of divorce trials.”

You hummed at his reply, leaning into his hands massaging your scalp, “And?”

“Most of them come from… affairs.”

You raised one of your eyebrows at the mention of affair, “Are you saying I might be cheating with one of my servants dear?”

“Not really,” Yulian now focused back on massaging your shoulders again, “but I can't help but be bothered by the fact that one of your servants might be admiring you, enchanted by you.”

His face inched closer to yours now, “And while they are at it, they can freely see and feel your body…” his hands slowly felt your arms up and down, “and be around you every day, helping you dress, attending all your needs while I'm away.”

You've never seen your husband act like this before. This was the first time he had shown his jealousy blatantly.

Yulian started pressing chaste kisses on the back of your neck, his grips remained on your arms. You squirmed as his hands snaked further into your nipples.

“It's so unfair, I'm your husband and yet they get to see you so vulnerable more often than I would ever be.”

What was once a chaste kiss soon turned into hickeys, purple decorating you from the back of your neck to your collarbone. You recognized this gesture as his way of showing his pettiness.

“So today,” his fingers tweaked your nipples as he kissed your earlobe, “can I show you just how much I love and adore every bits of you?”

—

The two of you were connected in the bathtub, his cock throbbed as its snug inside of you. How many times had he cum so early yet still had the strength to continue? You knew your husband couldn't last long but that didn't mean his stamina was to be doubted.

His precision in hitting your sweet spot had always been pitch-perfect. It never failed to make you squeal and tighten around him, pushing him closer to yet another orgasm.

Yulian hid his face in the crook of your neck, trying his best to not bite into your flesh, and opted to bite his lip until he tasted steel instead.

You moaned out his name as you felt like you were about to reach yet another orgasm as well. Your hand intertwined with his, you turned back to kiss him, tasting his blood while at it.

“So close… together?”

Yulian’s cock throbbed at the mention of it before he nodded along, “I-I’ll try.”

Yulian lifted you from his lap and positioned you to lean onto the wall before he continued ramming into you like a starving man. Nonetheless, he still made sure to prioritize your pleasure as well instead of being selfish and chasing his own release.

Your knees wobbled and you felt really weak yet his strong grip wouldn't let you slide down, at least not until you two were done.

Ragged breath and breathy groans, the bathroom smelled like sex instead of florals. The whole candles flickered with each thrust he made and the water rippled with every shake your legs made.

It didn't take so long for you two to come in unison. The bath water that was once pristine and clean was soon mixed with both of your bodily fluids. Your insides felt warm the moment he came inside you again.

Your knees slowly gave up as the two of you slowly collected your composure. Yulian’s hands never let you go as he slowly lowered you into his embrace again.

He started peppering your face with kisses again, his fingers ran over all the hickeys he had left all over you, some were in a very visible place.

“How am I supposed to cover all of these dear?” you pouted at him as you pushed his face away from you playfully.

Yulian raised his eyebrows before answering you, “You don't cover them dear.”

[maneskinwh0re]

sevika x brothelfemme!reader — “not your job”

cw: [n]sfw, dom!sevika, soft!sevika, mostly fluff :3

summary: thinking about having a long-term brothel contract with sevika. at the end of a particular booking when she has already made you cum like 3 times, she forgot to leave time for aftercare (actually forgot she was on a time limit, just lost inside you). so when she starts to apologize and frantically clean you up, you just kick her out SKDHAHDJA fic plot begins right afterwards…

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

“come on, i’ll walk you out,” you say as you smooth out your dampened lingerie and throw on a matching robe, shielding your figure from the cold as well as your client’s wandering grey eyes.

“that’s not in your job description,” sevika counters as she zips up the fly of her cargos. you step closer to button her pants as well as buckle her thick belt, a sentiment that means more to her than you know.

whenever sevika asks, you always imply that helping her get dressed is a favor in your contract (you both know it’s not) and then your defense is usually followed by a teasing remark about her missing left arm. in reality, you use the closeness as an excuse to continue the intimacy after sex, a further connection between you two, but the secret remains unspoken.

“you’re right, it’s not in my job description. and neither is changing the sheets, but looks like i’m doing that too since i’m too embarrassed to let poor harley do it.”

“isn’t that their job anyway?”

“can you just quit arguing with me and get your ass out?” you bicker with a laugh, knowing sevika is just stalling at this point.

“thought y’ liked my ass,” she smiles smugly and tilts her head as she looks down to you, her flesh hand teasingly trailing up your curves.

you were gonna really make her feel like shit about not leaving time for aftercare, you just like to rub it in. the two of you know it’s all jokes, and have had a bounded contract for a while now. sevika isn’t a regular for anyone else, and you’ve recently stopped seeing any other clients…

“ha ha. i like it when it’s obedient,” you purr with a giggle, giving her behind a soft swat. “let’s go— the laundry room ‘s at the end of the hall anyway.”

“hmph, alright fine,” she agrees with a pout that is so cute, it almost makes you forget about her dominant nature that made you scream and beg mere minutes ago… almost.

when you get to the door, your trusted head of security opens it for sevika, and only when her flesh hand leaves its place on your lower back did you realize the warmth that was there as you walked the dimly lit hallway. it’s the little things that keep you both so connected, even if you don’t think to control them consciously.

you lean against the doorway, one hand on your hip as you smile up at her. when she leans in for a goodbye kiss, you turn your head away.

“ah ah, y’ know you gotta pay for that,” you say with a smirk.

“i think i just did,” she replies with a quirked brow, a prideful smile revealing the little gap between her two front teeth.

you only stare at each other, a silent competition to see who yields first to give in for a kiss.

“i’ll see you tomorrow,” you finally break the silence with a sly smile and turn away to resume your shift.

“but i’m not booked for tomorrow…?” sevika thinks aloud, her eyebrows furrowing together as if her statement is a question.

you look back to her, your tongue running along the inside of your cheek and huffing as if trying to stifle a laugh. sevika staying away from you? yeah, right. like a moth to a flame.

“i will see you tomorrow, sevika.” you look up at her tall figure and place a hand on her chest to push her out the door.

in a quick motion, sevika shoves your hand to the side and pulls you in by the waist for a deep kiss. you reciprocate immediately— because how could you not? your hands grip her short hair and you feel the coldness of her labret piercing against your bottom lip. you can taste your earlier release on her tongue, recalling the lewd thoughts of when she-

“ahem.” the security guard’s lower pitched voice brings you back to the moment.

gasping for air, you push sevika off and wobbly move clear of the doorway. “alright, get outta here. before i call security.”

“oh, will you? i’m real scared,” she jokes, taking loopy, post-sex drunken steps down the stairs.

“i could kick your ass, sevika!” callum shouts into the cold night, then slams the heavy door shut before your patron could reply. you internally relish the sound of sevika’s deep laugh fading out on the other side of the metal entryway, indicating she’s finally walking home.

“thanks, cal,” you chuckle as you readjust your laced bralette.

“why don’t y’all do all ‘at off the clock?” callum turns to you, his tone is still light but with a tint of seriousness.

“what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean. that stupid smile will stick to your face the rest of y’r shift, hon. and it’s only ever there after your sevika is.”

you scold your coworker, waving him away before he notices your flushed expression. “oh my- s-shut the fuck up!”

‘your sevika’

…you could get used to the sound of that.

∴.·:*¨¨*:·. ☙.·:*¨ ¨*:·.♡ .·:*¨ ¨*:·. ❧.·:*¨ ¨*:·.∴

alexa play casual by chappell roan !

a/n: had the plot idea a few weeks ago, dropping this fluff and running back to hibernate bc kinda been going through it lately lol BUT WE DOING BETTER NOW TEAM DW found some inspo to write :3

harley and callum are two oc’s i might add to an ongoing fic bc i actually ended up kinda liking this :)

- 🐝

taglist: @audr3yyyyy @mirconreadzztuff22 @wizard-pdf @archangeldyke-all @nhaaauyen @inthebrainofalamb <3

[anhedoniawrites]

all those dreams where you’re my wife

gif by @reidgif

inside your mind - the 1975

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

summary: coming down from the highs of sex, Spencer and Reader talk about his brain and its thoughts.

genre: fluff & angst

word count: 2.1K

warnings: no use of y/n, proofread, this is an old piece of writing.

masterlist!

Panting softly, your breath mingled with his, your chest rising and falling in tandem with Spencer’s. Your body felt weightless, the afterglow of your shared passion wrapping around you like a warm blanket. Sweat clung to your skin, and the soft hum of his heartbeat echoed in your ear where your head rested against his shoulder. The intimacy of the moment felt sacred, a shared silence that spoke volumes without words.

Spencer was unusually quiet. Not that his silence was uncommon—he often retreated into his mind after moments like this, his thoughts working in overdrive as if the endorphins had unlocked new pathways in his brilliant brain. He’d once explained to you that post-coital clarity often helped him connect dots he’d never considered before. You’d always found it endearing, a quirk that made him uniquely Spencer.

But tonight, something was different. His quiet wasn’t contemplative—it felt heavier, like the weight of his thoughts pressed down on both of you. You couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers hesitated as they traced lazy circles on your back, the way his chest rose with a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“What’s wrong, handsome?” you murmured softly, lifting your head just enough to meet his gaze. His chin, which had been resting lightly against the crown of your head, shifted as he tilted his face toward you. His eyes, usually warm and filled with an endless stream of curiosity, now held a flicker of something else—something guarded.

For a moment, he didn’t answer. He just looked at you, his brow furrowing ever so slightly as if he were weighing his words. You could see the gears turning in his mind, the way he struggled to reconcile his thoughts with the honesty that had always been the cornerstone of your relationship.

“Nothing, sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice soft but unconvincing.

It was a lie—a glaring, obvious lie. Spencer was many things: a genius, a profiler, a man who could recall entire books word for word. But a liar? Never. You knew him too well, knew the way his eyes darted away for just a fraction of a second when he was trying to mask the truth. He knew you knew, too, which made his attempt at deception almost endearing.

You propped yourself up on your elbow, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his damp forehead. “Spence,” you said gently, your tone a mix of affection and concern. “You’re a lot of things, but a good liar isn’t one of them. Talk to me.”

His lips parted as if to protest, but the words caught in his throat. He sighed again, this one deeper, as though the act of holding everything inside was physically exhausting. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Complicated doesn’t scare me,” you replied, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

He let out a breath, his gaze darting away for a moment before returning to yours. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost fragile. “It’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

You frowned, leaning closer. “Try me,” you said softly. “You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just tell me what you’re feeling.”

His hand moved softly, almost reverently, to the back of your head. His fingers threaded through your hair with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine, pausing now and then as though he were mapping the curve of your skull. There was something purposeful in the way he touched you, something that felt more like exploration than comfort.

“I wish I could know you the way you know yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and thoughtful. His fingers continued their journey, tracing invisible patterns that only he could see. “I want to be able to have your brain all laid out in front of me, every thought, every memory, every piece of you.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, his voice soft but steady as he continued, almost to himself. “The back of your head is at the front of my mind.”

He fell silent for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly as if trying to untangle the thoughts swirling in his mind. His hand didn’t stop moving, the gentle rhythm of his touch grounding both of you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

After a long pause, he spoke again, his voice tinged with hesitation. “Sometimes, when you’re asleep, I’ll just… watch you breathe.” His eyes flickered toward you, searching your face as though bracing for judgment, but his hand never faltered.

“I’ll watch the way your breathing slows, the way it evens out. It’s like… proof. Proof that you’re real, that you’re here with me. And then I start to wonder…” His voice trailed off, but the weight of his thoughts lingered in the air.

His fingers stilled briefly before resuming their gentle path, tracing the base of your skull as though it held the answers he was searching for. “I wonder what you’re dreaming about,” he continued, his voice softer now, almost fragile. “I wonder if you dream of me, or of the things you love, or the things you want in life. And I can’t help but think about how much I want to know every part of you. What makes you happy, what makes you sad, what you think about when no one’s watching.”

His other hand came to rest on your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. His gaze was intense, those wide, earnest eyes searching yours for understanding. There was no shame in his vulnerability, only a raw, unfiltered need to be known and to know you in return.

“I don’t want to miss anything,” he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re the most important person in my life, and sometimes it terrifies me how much I feel for you. Like… like I’ll never be able to express it the way I want to.”

The silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. His hand lingered on your cheek, the other still cradling the back of your head as though he could hold your thoughts in his palm.

He let out a soft, shaky breath, his forehead lowering until it rested against yours. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered, the words almost too quiet to hear.

For a moment, he stayed like that, his eyes closed, his breathing syncing with yours. His hands stayed gentle, as though he were afraid of breaking the moment. And then he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a desperation that spoke of a love too big for words.

In the quiet that followed, his touch said everything he couldn’t, and you let it.

In the gentle quiet of the room, Spencer’s voice broke through like a fragile thread, hesitant yet determined. “I mainly watch you sleep because I’m terrified of my mind,” he admitted, his tone a mix of vulnerability and unease. He hesitated, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the blanket as if debating whether to pull the veil back on his inner torment.

His gaze dropped to the floor, his breath catching slightly as he continued. “When I sleep…” he started, the words trembling on the edge of his lips. “I dream that you’ve been taken. It’s always the same. I’m helpless, paralyzed—every step I take feels like wading through quicksand, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t reach you.”

His voice grew quieter, a raw edge creeping into it, but he forced himself to keep going. “By the time I finally get to you, it’s too late. You’re lying there…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard, as though the very memory of the dream clawed at his throat. “You’re lying on the ground in a pool of your own blood. And the only thing I can see, the thing that haunts me even after I wake up, is the ring on your finger.” The room seemed to close in on you, the silence heavy and suffocating. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to such a confession. You’d never talked about marriage—not explicitly, at least—but there had always been an unspoken understanding between you two. You both wanted it, you both felt it in your bones, but life had never given you the time to explore that possibility.

But hearing Spencer speak of the ring, of the symbol of everything you meant to him, in such a terrifying, haunting context—it shook you. The dream wasn’t just about losing you; it was about him failing you. About the one thing that represented his commitment, his love for you, now twisted into something horrific, something he couldn’t escape.

Your mind raced, trying to process the weight of his words, the depth of his fear. You could see it now—the desperation in his eyes, the vulnerability in the way he held himself. Spencer was afraid. Afraid of losing you, fearful of not being able to protect you.

In that moment, the love between you felt both fragile and immense. You reached out to him, your hand finding his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in the storm of his emotions. You didn’t need to say anything—he already knew how much you cared. But still, you squeezed his hand, hoping to convey everything that words couldn’t.

Spencer finally looked up, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s supposed to be a symbol of everything good, everything I’ve ever wanted to give you. But in that moment, it feels like a mockery—a cruel reminder that I couldn’t protect you. That I failed you.”

The room fell silent, his words lingering in the air like a fragile echo. He looked at you then, his gaze pleading for understanding, for some assurance that the horrors of his subconscious didn’t define him.

“Spencer Reid, you could never fail me, not ever. Don’t ever think that,” you said softly, your voice steady but full of the weight of everything you felt. Your hands found their way to his face, cupping his cheeks gently, guiding his gaze to meet yours. You could see the self-doubt in his eyes, the fear that had taken root there, and it made your heart ache.

He opened his mouth to protest, but you pressed your forehead against his, a silent plea for him to hear you, to understand. “You’ve given me so much in this life, Spencer,” you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, but every word carried the depth of your emotions. “So much that I never thought I deserved, but you showed me that I do. You showed me that I’m worthy of love, of happiness. That I’m worthy of you.”

You could feel the weight of your words sink in as Spencer’s breath caught, his eyes flickering with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. It wasn’t just the love you had for him—it was everything he had done for you, everything he had helped you realize about yourself.

You gently pulled one of your hands away from his face, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for his hand, placing it over your chest, just above your heart. “This…” you said, your voice catching in your throat as you pressed his hand against the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. “This is because of you. Every beat, every breath—it’s because of the love you’ve given me. You make me feel alive in a way I never thought was possible.”

Spencer’s eyes softened, his gaze dropping to where his hand rested against your chest. The quiet intensity of the moment wrapped around both of you, and you could feel the weight of everything he was carrying—the fear, the guilt, the love—and you wanted to lift it off him, even if only for a moment.

You leaned in slowly, your lips brushing against his forehead in a soft, lingering kiss, a silent promise that you were there, that you always would be. Then, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes, you whispered, “Spencer, you don’t ever need to worry about failing me. You’re everything I’ve ever needed. And I’ll never let you forget that.”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed, and without thinking, he leaned in to kiss you, his lips gentle against yours, a kiss that spoke of gratitude and love, a kiss that grounded you both in the present moment. When he pulled back, you couldn’t help but smile, brushing your thumb lightly over his cheek.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. And before you could respond, you kissed him again, this time deeper, letting the weight of everything you had just shared hang in the air between you like a promise, unspoken but undeniable.

thank you for reading!

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taglist! @pleasantwitchgarden

[vivimura]

aftercare with boyfriend!riki ♡

GENRE ~ implied smut, fluff, suggestive, nudity

WORD COUNT ~ 1.674k

ᯓ★ this has literally been rotting in my drafts since the asscrack of mankind pls excuse it, its kinda bad :3 anw listen to your eyes only by enhypen, or coming home by beabadoobee for best experience <3

the air in the room was thick with tension, a heavy silence filling the room as both of you caught your breath. the room felt almost humid, the heat and sweat sticking to your bodies as your breath came out in short pants, your heart racing from the intensity of it all.

he laid on top of you, his body still heavy against your own, his bare skin hot against your own. he was breathing heavily, his head buried into the crook of your neck.

"you’re so good for me" he broke the palpable silence, his voice heavy and ragged, the words he spoke barely able to form through his labored breathing and ragged voice he slowly lifted his head from your neck, looking down at you with a look of pure adoration in his eyes.

he was in awe of the moment, of how good it had felt, and how amazing you looked beneath him. he pressed his lips against your forehead, moving to press soft kisses down your face and along your jaw.

every kiss he left on your face caused your chest to warm with affection, your previously clouded mind slowly coming back to a state of coherency. you chuckled, lips curving up into a lazy smile at his affectionate gestures.

after the duration of a few more kisses, you cupped his cheek, pressing your lips against his instead.

riki felt himself melting into it, his body lax and pliant on top of yours as your lips pressed against his. he gently placed a hand to your cheek, running his thumb gently along your jawline as he kissed you back with a tender and gentle passion.

when you broke the kiss, it was impossible to not notice the way riki was looking at you. he looked at you as if you were the only thing in the world, and even though it was just another night of intimacy, he never managed to make it feel like the very first.

“quit looking at me like that..” you mumbled out, no longer able to fight back the shyness that came from being subject to his fond gaze. you wriggled forward, hiding your face in the curve connecting his neck and shoulder.

he couldn't help but let out a small laugh at your shyness, finding it endearing how embarrassed you seemed. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his body, your head tucked into his neck as he felt the warmth of your face against his skin.

"why not?" he asked, a teasing tone in his voice. instead of half crushing you with his weight on top of you, he laid beside you on the bed. one of his hands slowly began to trace up and down your bare back.

“‘cuz i said so!” you squeaked out, too embarrassed to admit that you felt like your heart would burst from love if he kept looking at you that way.

he chuckled softly at your whiny response, the hand on your back gently rubbing small circles into your skin. he knew exactly what was going on in your head right now, and it only made him feel even more affection for you.

he held you even closer to him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before replying "god, you're so cute. let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

hearing his words, you finally pulled away out of hiding from his neck. a shy smile tugged up at the corner of your lips as you nodded. “okay.”

he gave you a small, loving smile at your agreement, his hand moving to tuck a strand of your hair back behind your ear. he took a moment to look at you, his eyes roaming over your features, before he slowly lifted himself off of you and stood up from the bed.

he stretched his body out, his muscles rippling beneath his skin. he tugged a pair of fresh black boxers up his thighs before he held out his hand to you. "come on," he said gently.

sitting up on the bed, you gave him a look. your right eyebrow was twitched up, your lips parted in offence as if he’d just ask you for a million dollars. these dramatics were of course, completely playful.

"seriously? you expect me to walk myself? whatever happened to treating me like a queen.." you sassily commented, sighing loudly as if in disappointment.

he laughed loudly at your dramatics, his eyes glittering with amusement. he knew that you were more than capable of walking yourself, but he understood that you were just having fun with him. he rolled his eyes teasingly, pretending to be exasperated.

"you're really something, you know that?" despite his feigned annoyance, he reached down and scooped you up, lifting you into his arms in one fluid motion.

your sulky, disappointed expression almost immediately changed into a wide grin. giggles escaped your mouth as you clung onto riki, even taking the liberty to pat his head as if he were a puppy. “that’s more like it. good boy.”

he groaned in annoyance, his expression turning to a scowl at your words and at the way you patted his head. he hated when you acted so condescending towards him, despite knowing fully well that you were doing it to rile him up.

"cut it out," he grumbled, shooting you a glare as he walked with you into the bathroom, his grip on you strong and secure, as if he were carrying something precious in his arms.

he brought you into the spacious bathroom, gently setting you down on the edge of the bathtub, his hands still grasping loosely at your waist as he did so.

"sit here, i'll get a towel," he instructed, his hands reluctantly leaving your body as he moved to the towel rack, grabbing a large, fluffy towel from it. he walked back over to you, holding the towels in his hands, and kneeled down in front of the bathtub, bringing him just below eye-level with you.

he turned on the faucet behind you, leaning over to wet one of the towels with its warm flow of water. once it was drenched enough, he turned it off and kneeled before you again, beginning to gently clean the questionable fluids off of your thighs.

his touch was incredibly gentle and tender, and somehow conveyed the love he had for you, even if he was doing something as simple and minimal as cleaning you after sex.

a fond smile formed on your lips as you looked down at him and the way he cleaned you. in that moment, it was as if you two were the only ones who existed, and all other worldly boundaries and expectations had disappeared.

"thank you.." you whispered out when he finished cleaning you.

he set the towel to the side, his eyes lifting to meet your gaze as he stood up, looking down at you on the edge of the tub. he stepped closer, his body pressing against yours, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek.

the corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "you don't have to thank me," he replied, his voice soft and tender as he looked at you with gentle adoration. he brushed another strand of your hair off your forehead.

"i like taking care of you."

you smiled back so wide your cheeks hurt, lovingly nuzzling your face into his gentle hand. as extraordinary as it was, you’d learned to grow so comfortable around him that the fact that you wore nothing but your skin didn’t even faze you.

however, the slight shiver in your spine and goosebumps on your skin gave riki the signal that you were probably cold. he practically jogged out of his place and before you could even question or move a muscle, he returned with a hoodie in his hand. the black one he knew you loved.

a small laugh erupted from your throat at the way he was so utterly eager, excited even, to care for you. you gently shook your head in fondness and raised your arms, allowing him to tug the soft material on your body.

standing up on your feet, you wrapped your arms around his bare torso and planted your chin on his chest to look up at him. inexpressible in words, you hoped the sparkle in your eyes convinced him how much you loved him.

though, as romantic as the moment was, a faint but audible rumble emerging from your tummy broke it. you stilled in your tracks, a deep blush of embarrassment forming on your cheek as you hid your face in his chest at record speed. “shit..”

riki looked stunned at the sudden noise, before he burst into laughter at the sudden sound of your stomach, the rumbling breaking the quiet and intimate atmosphere they had going. but it was cute. incredibly cute. then again, he found almost everything you did adorable.

when he noticed the small pout forming on your lips, he suppressed his laughter and limited it to an amused smile. he pulled you closer, cradling your body against his in a tight embrace.

he knew you were probably hungry because of your habits of skipping meals and the err… strenuous activities earlier, but the last thing he wanted to do was call you out for the noise and further embarrass you.

despite knowing the fact that there was nobody else around, he cleared his throat and pretended it was him who was starved instead. “c’mon, let’s go eat something. i’m hungry.”

you pulled away to look up at him with wide eyes. knowing it was riki we were talking about of all people, he would normally be a relentless, teasing ass for the little slip up. but, his difference in personality when it came towards you caused your heart to squeeze in love.

“yeah..” you whispered out, a little in disbelief over just how much you loved him, and how much he loved you back.

mlist comment and reblog!

[dollyhao]

sevika lowkey wants to wife you up (nsfw, strap (r! receiving), biting, also really sweet, mama being mama 🤷🏾‍♀️)

sevika’s been coming to the brothel just to see you for the last six months, coming to see you like every 3 days and you two spend an amazing time together. it’s not always sex either; it started off that way but you guys really connected.

sevika’s been wanting to ask you to quit your job and let her take care of you but she hasn’t asked yet. you’ve been talking about quitting your job because your hearts just not in it anymore and its effecting your mood.

when sevika finally comes visit you after almost a whole week of not seeing you, she’s ready to finally ask you.

she waits patiently for you to come into the room that you two frequent the most, she watches as you face lights up at seeing her she stands as you approach her with a grin and your arms open, “sev!” you jump into her arms and she holds you tight. “hey princess,” she places you down on the bed, kneeling inbetween your legs as you look down at her with a softer smile.

“why haven’t you come see me?” you ask quietly, running your fingers through her hair. “i was busy,” she says plucking your shoes off your feet. “ya missed me?” she smirks up at you leaning closer to your face.

“i thought you weren’t coming back…” you gaze into her eyes then at her lips. sevika doesn’t respond right away, she sees how much you believed that and she just can’t have that. she leans in to kiss you, pushing you to lay down. she straddles your waist pulling her cape off while your hands cup her face. you moan feeling the weight of her on you, she pulls away from you. “let’s take this off baby,” she pulls at your flimsy dress and you sit up so she can pull it over your head.

still straddling your now naked body, she kisses down your neck biting at your collarbone. you suck in a breath at the pain. she continues kissing and biting you up, leaving marks while she situates herself between your legs. clients aren’t allowed to mark up the girls but sevika has no intention of letting you stay here after tonight.

she kisses your lips again biting your lip as she grinds into you. you let out a sigh at the strap in her pants that’s rubbing against you. “sev, don’t tease, take it out,” your hand trails inbetween your bodies trying to reach into her pants. sevika kneels over you, “so impatient,” she responds pulling her top and sticky pants off. you bite your lip, gazing up at her large, naked form. you sit up to press fevered kisses inbetween her breast.

she grabs your chin pulling you away from her hot skin, “on your knees.” you giggle, immediately turning on your knees and arching your ass in the air. sevika’s hands are placed on your ass but you shudder at the cold metal that shes been avoiding touching you with. she parts your lower lips smirking at the sticky mess that’s dripping down your thighs. she presses the tip to your entrance running it up and down your slit, making you push your hips back with a whimper before finally pushing into you.

your mouth falls open she starts a slow but deep pace. you let out gasps and moans as you feel sevika going deeper with every thrust and it only intensifies when she speeds up, “oh-ohmygosh sevvy,” you can’t handle all the wet sounds of your cunt swallowing up her strap, you reach your hand around to grab on to the hand that’s holding your waist and her cold one trails down your back, making you arch more before she grabs your hair pulling it as her hips snap against yours.

“how does it feel?” she bends to whisper in your ear. your brain is mush as moan out with drool dripping down your chin, you try to nod your head but sevika’s holding your head still with her grip. she’s stopped moving her hips with the strap sitting snug in your pulsing cunt. “words, baby.”

“yes yess, i-i love it mama,” you let out before sevika presses a kiss to your temple. “ya wanna quit ya job baby?” you turn ya head to look at her now that she’s back to kneeling, you nod your head with tears of pleasure forming in your eyes. “ya want mama to take care of you?” she pouts at you as she pushes you on to your side, she puts your leg over her shoulder holding herself up over your face.

“hm? want me to get you out of here?” “please,” you kiss her lips again as she opens her mouth, sticking her tongue in your mouth letting you run yours over hers. your body starts to tremble and you throw your head back whimpering out sevika’s name. sekiva bites you chin and kisses down you neck as she trails her hand between your bodies and rubbing circles against your clit. “such a good girl, imma take the best care of you baby. i promise.” she pants out as your hands grip on to her biceps. you cum and let out obscene moans that only sevika could ever make you make.

[poisonf0rest]

Kiss Shot

♱⋅── zayne x fem!reader

♱⋅── about: Zayne has curated a perfectly polished reputation. He’s a renowned surgeon, the youngest of his graduating class, has a plethora of research papers in his name, and is well-liked and respected amongst his peers. And he would throw it all away to have you like this again, whining and desperate as he fucks you over a billiard table. It’s not fair, really, how easily you manage to get Zayne riled up. Especially when you call him sir.

♱⋅── word count: 8.2K

♱⋅── warnings: mdni, smut, light bondage, teasing, semi-public sex, praise kink, pwp, dom!zayne, sir kink, pool & billiards, oh he has pretty hands, exclusive tutorial card

Your negroni is fifty percent water by now.

The flock of past classmates, professors, and adorning fans has been relentless, swarming the bar where you and Zayne currently sit— or perhaps more accurately, swarming where the distinguished Dr. Zayne sits. 

You sigh under your breath, fussing with the cocktail dress slit against your thigh before taking another sip of your drink, the melted ice dulling the burn of the gin. It has only been an hour since you arrived, and yet you can already feel your social battery reach its limits, tired of going through the same motions for every other person who bothers to acknowledge your presence: a smile, what’s your name, are you a surgeon as well, what’s your connection to Zayne, no we’re not together.

It’s not that you haven’t met fascinating individuals— your first round of drinks was shared with two sisters, old classmates of Zayne’s who were now Linkon’s top OB/GYN doctors and genuinely the sweetest women you’ve talked to today. 

But everyone has limits. And with the relentless swarm sucking up to Zayne, it hardly gives you a moment of peace, let alone an opportunity to talk with your date for the evening.

Thinking about the stipulations of your relationship and what this night even means for the two of you sends your mind reeling further, and you finish the rest of your negroni in a shot, wincing. 

As if sensing your frustration, the doctor in question looks up from his conversation with a classmate. Zayne gives a knowing, apologetic smile before returning to his conversation, the gesture leaving you with a fluttering in your chest.

Calling the bartender over, you place another drink on the tab before tuning in to the conversation next to you as you hear the echo of laughter. 

“No, no, I’ve been lucky enough to have seen it myself!” An older man laughs again, his drink nearly sloshing over the rim as he smacks Zayne’s shoulder. You snort at the way he stiffens. “Our Dr. Zayne isn’t just a professional at work, you should see him play billiards. Let me tell you, he’s amazing at both the operating table and the pool table”

A deep sigh. “You drank too much…” 

“Nonsense!” The man pats Zayne again before recounting a story from their residency days to the crowd of onlookers.

You yourself are rather engrossed too, more than happy to learn more about your elusive doctor, especially these hidden talents he seems set on keeping from you. Zayne, on the other hand, is far from impressed. Brows furrowed, he turns from where he sits against the bar counter to scan your face. 

Leaning in closer, you inhale sharply at the feel of his cool breath against your ear. “Do you want to go somewhere else?” 

His thoughtfulness would be sweet if it weren’t for the way Zayne had whispered it, lips brushing against your sensitive skin as you shudder at the slow, deep cadence of his voice. 

Noticing your hesitation, Zayne’s hand comes up to rest on your knee, thumb slipping under your dress’ slit. He cocks his head, waiting for your response, drawing soothing circles against your bare skin, which is having quite the opposite effect. 

Panicking, you shake your head. “I’m alright. Plus, I’d feel bad stealing you away from all your adoring fans so soon, Dr. Zayne.”

He scoffs under his breath, but you see the slight curl in the corner of his lips. Still, he has yet to let go of your thigh, and you decide to shift closer, turning in your seat so your knees brush against Zayne’s, his hand involuntarily sliding higher. 

His fingers are calloused and worn, a testament to his many years spent in the medical field, and his grip is firm against your thigh. It feels familiar, and the memories of his hands on you in many different places sends heat rushing to your cheeks.

The thought doesn't seem to have left his mind either, judging by the way his eyes dart down to your parted lips.

Clearing his throat, Zayne looks away. He is about to say something when you decide to interrupt instead.

“Besides,” you hum, taking a sip of wine. “If the rumors are to be believed, then I’m missing quite a show. Is our Dr. Zayne really that skilled at pool?”

“Ah.” Zayne retracts his hand, clearing his throat as he straightens up in his seat. ”You’re trying to gang up on me.”

You know him well enough to recognize the hint of embarrassment in the way he avoids your gaze. But before you can tease him further, another cheery voice interrupts.

“We meet again, sir!” A young man practically bounces over to the bar, caught between a bow and a handshake as he stumbles into both, flashing a gummy smile at Zayne. 

You raise a brow at his overwhelming enthusiasm, glancing at Zayne as you watch recognition flash across his face.

“Good evening. It’s Steven, yes? You don’t need to address me as “sir”.” Zayne nearly grimaces as he says the word, and you take a sip from your drink to hide your growing smile. 

“Yes! I’m honored you remembered.” Steven nods vigorously. “But anything less would be inappropriate. After all, you taught me so much with your hands-on instruction, I owe my knowledge and successful residency so far to you, sir.”

Still, Zayne shuts him down. “I was only doing what I should have done. Any credit beyond that is your own.” 

It’s almost like he’s allergic to praise. 

“Humble and smart,” Steven laughs, winking all-too-obviously at you. “Regardless, I just wanted to thank you for everything formally, sir. You two have a wonderful rest of your night!”

“Yes.” Zayne frowns, leaning ever so slightly closer to you. ”To you as well.”

Quickly feigning ignorance, you pretend to be absorbed in the powerpoint some professor is giving on the opposite side of the venue, immediately lost in a diagram of a heart valve. You’re about to take another sip of your drink when something pinches your ear. Yelping at the sting, you jump in your seat, whirling around to face the culprit.

Zayne scoffs. “I could see you eavesdropping a mile away. Did you find anything interesting?”

“Oh, aside from learning that you are extremely humble, smart, handsome, and rather adept at hands-on instruction, nothing much,” you lean against the counter, blinking up at Zayne through your lashes as you sing the last word, “Sir.”

You watch his jaw clench, a rigid movement that makes your heart skip. Zayne laughs, a harsh, sharp sound. He shakes his head before his hand grips your jaw, tugging you gently but firmly towards him. His eyes narrow, and your heart stutters.

“Clever girl. What is it you want this time?”

This time. As if Zayne could refuse you anything, as if the mere sight of you isn't enough to make him go mad.

But you're not the only one who knows how to play. And he rather likes watching just how far you’ll go.

Smiling innocently, you rest a hand on Zayne’s shoulder. The warmth of his skin seeps through the silky material of his suit. You can't help but slide your hand further up, tracing the curve of his neck with your thumb. “Well…” You lick your lips, tasting the waxy remnants of your lipstick as you fight to keep your voice even under Zayne’s piercing gaze. ”You never did any hands-on training with me, and everyone says what an honor it’s been to be taught by you, sir. I wonder what I’ll have to do to experience it finally.”

Zayne sighs, and for a moment, he appears disappointed.

“It seems like you truly want to learn about surgeries.” A scoff, and Zayne’s face seems to fall back to its stoic facade. But he pulls you closer, tilting your head so his lips graze your earlobe once more. “Who knew my little hunter was so skilled at acting?”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest in faux surprise. “What accusations, doctor. Besides, I was thinking about something with a… less steep learning curve.”

Zayne hums thoughtfully, thumb venturing from your jaw as it brushes across your lips. Once. Twice. Three times before he stands up, hand finally dropping from your face as he grabs your wrist instead. 

“Then allow me to take our first lesson elsewhere.”

You don’t offer any sort of resistance as Zayne leads you through the crowd, opting to let go of your wrist and guide you away from prying eyes, hand instead lingering against the small of your back as he walks beside you. He opens the door for you, directing the two of you down one of the main venue halls, echoes of conversation muffled by the soft ding of an elevator. Zayne flashes his medical ID before clicking the top floor, the sensor buzzing green as it carries you up with the smooth flow of elevator jazz. 

Zayne’s hand has yet to leave your waist. His thumb goes back to tracing soft circles against the divots in your back as though from habit, nearly touching bare skin due to the sweeping backless design of your dress. You fight the urge to lean further into him, already fidgeting in your heels at the thought of his touch, slow and careful and calculated, elsewhere.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the chime of the elevator. 

Oh, god, snap out of it. You rush out of the elevator, hoping Zayne didn’t notice the furious heat you can feel rising from your cheeks to the tips of your ears.

Smoothing some loose hair back behind your ear, you close your eyes and focus on taking deep breaths, as if it’ll push all these obscene scenarios of Zayne’s large, perfect hands doing unspeakable things out of your mind. 

It works for a moment, expelling all these potential scenarios and instead reminding you of every time Zayne has taken action. Memories of him after hours at the clinic, during movie nights when neither of you paid attention to the TV, and even the drive here where he decided to—

“Does the sight of a billiard table scare you that much?”

The heat from earlier is back in full force. Your eyes snap open, and you are greeted with Zayne’s signature eyebrow raise, feigning concern despite his amused smile that only grows more prominent when he notices the flush creeping across your skin.

“Hardly.” You force a smile, turning your head as you refuse to let him gloat. “I’m just so ecstatic that I’ll finally receive hands-on training from the Dr. Zayne.”

A low hum, “Yes, at least until you feel well enough to go back and socialize.” 

He says this, yet you know Zayne is just as happy as you are to finally escape from the crowds below.

“Well,” you purr, “take care of me until then, sir.”

You giggle as he frowns at the title, waltzing past him to a corner pool table in the billiard hall. The floor is dedicated to different tabletop games, all lined up against numerous floor-to-ceiling windows aglow with a gorgeous view of Linkon City. The city lights bleed in since the entire room was rather dim, no doubt an artistic choice, adorned sensually with faux candlelight chandeliers and the low timber of jazz.

“Have you played before?”

“Once or twice– some call me a natural genius.” You brush imaginary hair from your shoulders as Zayne scoffs before handing you a cue stick. Lacing his hand into your own, you pull the stick and thus him closer. “Why? Are you going to be strict with me, sir?”

Seeing through your jab, Zayne responds without hesitation. “Strict teachers make outstanding students. Let’s start.”

You pout, about to walk to the other side of the pool table to observe his shot, when Zayne’s arm laces around your waist, holding you against him for a second longer. 

“And no more distractions.”

Not trusting your voice, you nod, watching as he bends to aim the cue, muscles beneath his sleeves flexing with each calculated movement. You hear the sound of a cue stick colliding with its target, but your attention is too focused on his fingers to process any of the actual movements.

Another sharp click breaks the silence. You watch as the cue ball collides with a red striped one, sending the former skittering off the sides while the other sinks into the pocket with a dull thud.

“You’re unfairly good at this.”

Zayne raises a brow, “Maybe it’s because a surgeon requires steady hands.” 

And the moment you glance down, any chance of salvation is lost.

You’re not a fool. You’ve noticed Zayne’s hands before, on more occasions than you’d care to admit. But it’s as he says and more. 

Lining up for another shot, you watch him stretch forward, forearms exposed from his deliciously rolled-up sleeves and discarded blazer, your eyes tracing every prominent vein down to his hands, spread wide against the table, tense as the stick rests against his pointer finger and thumb. Even in the dim lighting you can see pale silver scars littering his forearms, and you swear you’ve never seen something so beautiful, like traces of frost against marble. 

Again, it shouldn’t be a surprise that a surgeon must take good care of their hands, but it’s nearly unfair how gorgeous Zayne’s are. Not only that, but you remember how comforting his hands feel against your own, how they caressed your thigh earlier tonight, and just how attentive and precise they can be. 

“You’re not focusing on my lesson.”

Shit.

With a single strike, Zayne tries to sink another ball, but the angle is just off, and the striped ball hits the corner of the pocket, ricocheting against the wood with a dull thud. 

Zayne leans against the pool table, cue stick resting against his shoulder.

"Your turn."

Copying Zayne’s movements as best you can, you clumsily position your cue stick between your knuckles, aiming for what seemed to be a fairly easy shot. Only for the ball to ricochet far left as the white ball knocks into it. Even your cue stick wobbles after, as if shaking in laughter at your poor shot. 

Frowning, you look up to see Zayne’s disapproving gaze locked onto the pool table. 

“Is there not an easier way to do this? One more suitable for beginners?”

“There is.” Zayne leans in, his expression betraying nothing. “First, try adjusting your posture. You’ll see better results.”

Another sigh, and you halfheartedly drape yourself over the table again. “Like this? I’m not sure I fully understand, I think I need your help identifying my weak spots via more hands-on learning, sir.”

“Allow me to guide you, then.”

For a moment you think you’ll have to bait Zayne more, yet before you can figure out how to push the stubborn doctor any further, you feel the weight of his hands, heavy against your shoulder and hip. 

Zayne shifts forward, and you can feel the fabric of his suit vest graze the bare skin of your back, his hands unnaturally cool against the dips in your waist as he nudges your back into an arch. You comply, Zayne’s body nearly folding atop yours as his chest brushes your back. 

He takes the cue stick from your hand.

“You’re too tense,” Zayne pats your back two times. Your waist immediately bends, and you hear him laugh under his breath. “And now you’re too relaxed.”

With his hands still pressed against your waist, Zayne repositions himself and thus you as well, and you can feel the chill of each exhale against the crook of your neck.

He guides your aim, lining it up to the cue ball. The tip brushes ever so gently against the felt surface as it pushes, slowly and deliberately, practicing the gentle back-and-forth motion as you struggle to keep pace. 

“Drop your left arm. Allow it to bend naturally.” He taps your elbow and waist. “Your head, dominant arm, and the cue stick should all form a straight line.”

You begin to shuffle according to Zayne’s instructions, hinging your hips backward before you realize what a wonderfully compromising position he’s placed you in. As discreetly as possible, you allow your right leg to step backward, movement forcing you further against Zayne as you press the curve of your ass into his hips. Immediately, you’re rewarded with a sharp inhale next to your ear. 

But instead of pulling away or reprimanding you Zayne merely continues with the lesson, almost frustratingly unaffected if it wasn’t for the fact that you could feel his reaction grow between your thighs. 

Still, he is nothing if not a professional as he whispers against your jaw, "Behave.”

"I am," you reply, and one of Zayne’s hands comes up to guide your cue stick. “...It just hurts a little.”

You don’t have to see his face to know that Zayne is giving you a smug smile. 

“That means it’s correct.”

You take a deep breath. You practice the same back-and-forth motions, thrusting the stick forward on the third, watching as your cue stick strikes the white ball, sending a solid orange one rolling.

Another click and a thud, and you successfully land a pocket.

Just when you feel like you’re finally getting the hang of it, you make the fatal mistake of looking down to where Zayne's fingers guide yours against the cue stick, and your brain turns to scramble once more. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, a soft, fleeting sensation.

And you miss.

Zayne is quiet for a long moment, tilting his head, letting the warmth of his cheek press against your neck. “Snap out of it. Are you even paying attention?”

Bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing. 

“Of course,” you retort, skin feeling uncomfortably hot even when Zayne finally steps back from you, your body searing the memory of his touch into every nerve. “I’ll score the next one myself.”

He hums and cocks an eyebrow as if telling you to go on, prove him wrong. 

“Remember, move the cue stick to gauge the shot two or three times, then stop at the position closest to the ball.”

You do, gauging the weight of the cue stick, bending down over the table so your chest nearly brushes with the felt, narrowing in on the solid green ball. 

“Stop and pull back the cue stick in three, two, one.” 

On Zayne’s command, you strike, a satisfying click followed by the thump of the ball falling into the corner pocket. You scored. All on your own.

“It went in!” You jolt up, spinning as you laugh. 

“So it did. Seems like your pool skills are less about precision and more… passion.” Zayne’s lips twitch into a smile, and you’re not foolish enough to ignore his double meaning. “Granted, you might need a little more than passion to come back and win this round.”

You scoff, attempting to change the subject without drawing attention to how red your face has gotten. “Well then, perhaps if you’re not too committed to this doctor thing there’s still a chance for you in the professional billiard space.”

“No, thank you. Now, think you can make another shot by yourself?”

“Wait a moment. When a student does well, shouldn’t they get a reward?”

“Very well,” Zayne relents, tone even despite the searing gaze he practically strips down your body. “What do you want?”

“There are a few balls blocking my next shot. Help me?”

A beat, and he blinks at you incredulously. “That is all?”

“What’s wrong, Dr. Zayne? Scared that if you give me too much help, I’ll steal this victory from you?”

“Provocation doesn’t work on me.”

“Then come here.”

God, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to how pliant he is for you, obeying your command without so much as a moment of hesitation. His larger frame now towers above you, close enough that you have to crane your neck to maintain eye contact. And you can’t help but tease him a bit more. It’s not your fault his obedience gives you a rush.

“Closer,” you whisper, teasing your fingers against his vest buttons. “Or else I can’t reach it.” 

Still, Zayne complies. Although this time his brows furrow, shuffling closer so his knee slips between yours and your chest presses against his. “What exactly are you…”

You yank his tie, pushing him down atop the felt tabletop before he can finish his sentence. 

There’s a dull thud, Zayne’s vest ruffled as you pin him to the table. He still looks frustratingly composed, not a hair out of place, but you feel his chest rise and fall uncharacteristically fast under your palm.

Smiling in victory, your other hand brings up your cue stick, making a show of tapping it on his broad shoulders. “Ah, look, the ball is so far away. I think I’ll need a cue rest.”

“Using cue rests would be overkill,” Zayne retorts, propping himself onto his elbows as you pout. You’ve been teasing him all night; surely just one more push, and he’ll finally give in? 

Before he can escape from your hold, you lift the cue stick off his shoulder, letting the tip slip under his tie. Zayne watches with a tight frown as you tug his tie loose. “And this is inappropriate.”

“But are you not enjoying it too?” Your leg slides out from the slit in your dress, allowing you to straddle Zayne’s thigh as your arms cage him further against the pool table. “Sir?”

His brows furrow, almost surprised at your brazenness before he looks down with a huff, and you see the smirk he’s fighting to keep at bay. “I shouldn’t have taught you so much.”

Getting revenge for before, it’s your turn to grip his jaw, brushing kisses against his beautifully hooked nose and down his jaw, leaving smears of cherry red in your wake as you purposefully neglect his waiting lips. “What can I say? I have a very attentive teacher.” 

Zayne is about to say something sarcastic back, no doubt, so you roll your hips forward, cutting off his words as you’re rewarded with a groan instead. The angle allows you to grind atop the rough seams in his trousers, nearly catching against his zipper and the heavy bulge you can already feel straining underneath. 

His hand shoots out, gripping your thigh as you gasp. There’s a warning look in his eyes, but he makes no move to stop you.

Encouraged, you repeat the motion, rocking forward against him as you give an exaggerated moan. Zayne quickly cuts it off with his other hand, thumb pressing against your bottom lip as he muffles your noises. You open your lips further, allowing the digit to slide against your lipstick and push against your tongue. 

Zayne tsks, shaking his head.

You gently nip at his finger before beginning to suck the offending digit, flicking your tongue against the rough pad of his thumb. You watch his eyes narrow, the grip on your waist tightening. Zayne is holding himself back. Again. 

You release his thumb with a pop. "Don't worry, sir, no one will hear." As if to prove your point, you stop grinding, instead bringing your hand up to cup at the bulge straining against his pants. “Besides, you’re too pretty like this. I'm the only one who gets to hear all the sounds you make.”

You smile so sweetly despite the way you torture him with every rough drag of your palm against his clothed cock. But it’s only when your smile breaks into something more genuine that Zayne feels himself flush, gazing up at you adoringly before he tries to play it off with a chuckle and a pinch at your hips.

"The things you say..." His expression changes to something unreadable, stone-cold and conflicted. The chances of losing you again are greater than he once thought. He doesn't deserve this, and he doesn't deserve you. Zayne is reminded of that every time he dares get too close.

But he can't help it. He’d eternally become a fool, a martyr, just for you.

Zayne’s jaw clenches, and a stuttered moan slips through his teeth as your hand squeezes his clothed cock. "Do you think I'm that weak to flattery?"

"No. I just think you deserve it sometimes." You smirk. "Plus, I'm not flattering you, I'm complimenting."

"And what's the difference?"

"The intent," you whisper, grinding your hips forward again.

This time, you catch him by surprise, and Zayne moans, the sound low and rough and so fucking addicting. Zayne grunts, head tilting back as he shuts his eyes, lips parting ever so slightly as more soft sighs and moans slip out, spurring you on.

You lean in, breath warm against his ear as you whisper, "What's wrong, sir? I thought you had a lesson to teach me."

Zayne’s grip tightens, and he yanks you down so your palms skid across the smooth felt of the pool table you’ve pinned him against, pulling your hips flush against his as his palm cups your ass.

“If you actually want to learn, there's another way I can teach you…” Zayne leans up on his forearms until his lips brush with yours, and right as his eyes begin to flutter closed, you shove him backward. Denying his kiss. Again.

“Sir, this seems to be highly unprofessional.”

And Zayne finally snaps. 

“First you use your teacher as a cue rest, then you try to talk about professionalism?” He lets out a curt laugh, and you can practically feel his patience wearing thin. It’s terrifying, and your stomach flutters in anticipation.

“ Unprofessional ,” he spits, and your thighs clench at the growl undercutting his words. “Unprofessional, like that time you were screaming my name in the back of my car while we were still at the hospital parking lot? Or unprofessional, like that time you interrupted me during work hours, begging me to eat your cunt out in my office? Or perhaps it’s like when you decided to turn this lesson into an opportunity to tease me since you’re clearly so desperate?”

You can practically feel yourself drip at Zayne’s blunt words, each one harsh and true— your relationship with him had passed morally ethical the moment you pulled him in to kiss you instead of pushing him away months ago.

Using this moment of weakness, Zayne lifts you up, flipping the two of you around so you’re the one pinned against the pool table as he reaches for his abandoned cue stick. And he finally- finally - claims your lips with his. 

Zayne always kisses like he operates, slow and methodical, as if he could spend hours learning every inch of your body, and it never fails to leave you breathless. But today, the urgency in the way he licks into your mouth is palpable, and it has you whining and clutching his suit, legs wrapping around his waist as you try to bring him closer, the oak rim of the table forcing your back into a deeper arch as you whine. 

A firm hand against your hip stops your movement, pinning you down. You feel so small, caged in between his much longer legs, his superior height much too obvious. The difference in size is almost laughable as he bends down to lick deeper into your mouth. You gasp against Zayne’s lips as his other hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb rubbing circles against the column of your throat and your fluttering heartbeat underneath.

You whimper into his mouth, futilely attempting to push him away even though your hips grind insistently against his thigh. “Zayne,” his name tapers off into a moan as he kisses you again, addicted. “We can’t–” another kiss. “Anyone could walk in.” Another.

When he does give you space to breathe, a thin string of saliva connects his bottom lip to yours. He pants heavily, lips shaded a hue of cherry red from your lipstick and teeth as the corner of his mouth tugs into a frown. “Hm, I suppose that’s true. But that didn’t stop you before, did it? So I see no reason why it should stop me now.”

And you realize your fate has long since been sealed.  

Zayne returns to peppering your neck with kisses, teeth nipping the soft skin at your collarbone, and you yelp as he leaves a particularly harsh bite. Your hands come up to fist into his hair, and Zayne groans against your chest.

"Do not think I have forgotten our lesson," He whispers.

"Who, me?" You bat your eyelashes. "I would never. Sir."

His gaze darkens. "Then watch closely, I’m only doing this once.” 

Leaning over you, Zayne positions the cue stick against your shoulder, not unlike you did to him before. But unlike you, he forces your hips up against his thigh, watching your eyes roll back from the delicious friction of his expensive trousers. “There are two striped balls left. As punishment for your attitude during my lesson, I want you to come on my thigh before I pocket both of them.”

Dumbstruck, you can only stare up at him, stammering at his demand as you feel your pussy flutter. “I- I don’t think…”

Zayne scoffs, silencing you by roughly thumbing at your lips again. “Don’t act so shocked. You’ve been humping me like a desperate brat all evening, so go on and come like one. Come for me.”

His words are demeaning, each one cold and seemingly emotionless as he stares down at you. But you can see the truth in his eyes as he watches your every reaction, their gentle green filled with an adoration so tender it terrifies you. You feel the truth in his touch, only moving with your consent, already having memorized your body to learn the way you tick and acting upon your every whim, only pushing you just as far as you wish to be. 

Zayne has never told you he loves you, but he has shown you that he does in a thousand countless ways. 

And he’ll prove it to you in a thousand more. 

”Unless, you want more punishment?” Zayne twists his head towards you with his next statement, and he feels the way it makes you flinch— it makes him throb at the same time. You shake your head. 

You can barely form sentences when he’s deliberately tensing the muscles in his thigh, each movement in time with every needy twitch of your hips like it’s a means to emphasize his point. 

“Use. Your. Words.”

“No.”

His grip tightens, fingers tensing against your neck, and you stammer back out the correction. “No, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Your heart flutters at the praise, a quiet whimper escaping you as you buck against him. Your lips are pouty from being bitten between your teeth, and you still hear muffled sobs and moans slip past your lips as you begin chasing the friction against his thigh, the upward angle punishing your clit. 

Despite how much Zayne likes to front that he’s in complete control, something tells you he’s having a harder time holding back than he’ll ever admit. You think maybe the bulge in his slacks and his low moans against your ear is proof enough of that.

Zayne’s not sure which is more distracting, the sight of your pretty pussy grinding against him, only just covered by the thin silk of your dress, or the sounds falling from your mouth. The room is filled with the wet sounds of your cunt, your whimpers, and Zayne's own groans.

Pressing his forehead against yours, Zayne leans in for another kiss, the tips of your noses barely touching. But the proximity makes you slow, and he clicks his tongue, reaching above you to line up his cue stick for the next shot. But he pauses, instead fully tugging off the tie you had loosed.

"Since you were so insistent on taking my tie off earlier, here. Keep it for me." Zayne grabs both your wrists with one hand, looping his tie tightly against your skin, skillfully making a knot without ever releasing your wrists. 

“Maybe this will help you behave properly,” Zayne whispers, voice low as he mouths your pulse point, a fresh surge of arousal rushing to your core as you feel his length pressing further into you. 

With a broken whimper, you hook an ankle around Zayne’s back as you begin to grind harder against his thigh, moaning at the new angle. It hardly compared to the feeling of his fingers or cock fucking into you, but you barely cared, arousal and lust spurred on by Zayne’s voice. 

You soon fall into a rhythm, painfully slow, the mere friction sending jolts of heat through you until you’re certain Zayne’s trousers must be stained. You nearly beg for something to hold onto, hands writhing helplessly against his tie as your sobs are muffled into your red-bitten lips.

But just as soon as the pleasure builds, you feel it plateau, hips beginning to stutter as the dull friction becomes too little, the coiling heat inside you desperate to be properly filled up by something, anything. 

Zayne, on the other hand, is faring no better. 

He’s thoroughly distracted with the pretty little thing desperately fucking herself against his thigh, caging you down to the table as his hands clench against the cue stick, nearly enough to make it snap. 

You continue to push yourself in desperation to fulfill Zayne’s order for you to come, his continuous praises mingling with the lewd squelch of your cunt, and your eyes roll back with a cry. Zayne’s voice is intoxicating, his steady tone rough with lust sending tremors down your spine, infecting you like an aphrodisiac. You were building further and further, mounting pressure in your core dizzying, desperation for release seeping through you, mind lust-drunk as you willed yourself to fall off the peak.

But the familiar sound of the billiard balls clicks somewhere above you, followed by two distinct thuds. 

A hum, and Zayne pries himself away as you whine at the loss, cold air rushing in. 

You failed. 

“How disappointing.” Zayne scolds as if he wasn’t the one who nearly came from your grinding instead. ”But you know what happens to students who fail to follow clear instructions, don’t you?”

Standing back, Zayne discards the cue stick entirely as one hand readjusts his trousers, and you whimper at the sight of him cupping his bulge, stroking and coaxing it against his thigh just so he can stand straight. 

“Turn around and lift your dress.”

You obey, propping yourself up on shaking arms before you flip around so the rough edge of the billiard table now presses against your stomach, the felt hot beneath your bound wrists. 

Zayne hums in approval, almost apathetically observing the way you squirm before he nods at you to continue. Lowering your eyes from his, you allow your leg to slip out from the slit in your dress, spreading your legs back and to the side as the silk falls off the curve of your ass, Zayne’s piercing gaze following every movement. 

“Didn’t think a game of pool would turn you on this much,” he muses, leaning against the rim of the table as he crosses his arms.

Unable to meet his stare any longer, your head falls between your still tied-up hands, every inch of your body burning in shame and lust as Zayne continues to wordlessly observe you. You swear you’ll burn up with the way he fucks you with his eyes.

 Still, Zayne doesn’t move. 

You nearly scream against the table, eyes scrunched as you snap. “Fuck! Zayne, I swear to god, if you don’t finally fuck me I’ll do it myself or find someone else who will.”

The words barely leave your mouth when a hand fists into your hair, pulling you backward until you arch back, and you gasp, mouth falling open at the sensation. Zayne's breath is cold against the shell of your ear, the growl undercutting his words sending tremors down your spine.

"Needy little brat," his fingers curl into your hair, pulling until your jaw goes slack. Zayne's other hand finds its way back to your underwear, the material so damp that it almost feels sticky beneath his touch, and you moan at the sensation, unable to formulate a retort as your eyes flutter closed. “I think you’re forgetting this is meant to be your punishment.”

He snaps the band of your panties, and you choke, knees wobbling.

"Remember to count, or we start over.”

Placing the flat of his palm in the space between your shoulder blades, Zayne pushes you down against the billiard table, the side of your face pressed against the felt.

You hear the sharp crack of his hand meeting your ass before you feel it, the burn returning with a vengeance as you scream into the table. The sting of his palm leaves a searing heat across the curve of your ass, and you bite down on the tie binding your hands to muffle the cries that escape you.

Then you remember his order, lips quivering as you say, "One."

Another smack. This time harder. The strike is so precise it nearly sends you toppling over, the sting and ache following pushing you further against the wood. You let out a sob, eyes beginning to water as you clench around nothing, the throbbing of your cunt only worsened by Zayne's firm grip on the base of your neck.

"Two."

The third strike comes down even harder than the last, the resounding echo of his slap followed by a strangled scream from you, the heat and pain making your knees give out, forcing you to rest fully atop the pool table. “Three.”

You feel tears running down your face, undoubtedly ruining your makeup. But before you can process the fourth smack, you feel the familiar sting against your ass and the paradoxically gentle rub of Zayne's hand against the aching spot, soothing the pain as you count.

 "F-Four." You shutter as you feel sheer cold bloom against your skin, his Evol numbing your ass as you whimper from the pleasure-pain.

Zayne’s thumb dips past the seam of your panties, gathering the slick that has been dripping out of you for the entire night. You feel the heat of his stare on you and the weight of his hand heavy on the small of your back, his other hand still gripping your neck with his thumb tracing soft circles against your pulse.

"So wet. Is this what you were hoping for, hm? Testing me until I finally snapped and ruined you?”

You don't dare look him in the eye. "Please, sir. I can't—"

"Can't what? Take anymore? Can't take any more punishment like the disobedient brat you are?" Zayne's voice is low, and you shiver at his words, unable to respond as the tears continue to flow, the mixture of pain and arousal leaving your vision blurred and cloudy. He spanks you again, this time hard enough to leave a mark, and you keen, legs spreading even wider in desperation.

"I can't— ah shit — please. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sir, please, just fuck me already.” you plead, voice trembling as you beg, desperate to be filled by anything other than the emptiness. 

“Language.” Zayne reprimands, and the sting of his strike follows shortly after. “And you forgot to count.”

“Five! It’s f-five.” Your knees buckle with a sob, and Zayne has to hold your waist so you don't slide onto the floor, his touch paradoxically gentle compared to everything else he’s done.

“Shh, you’re far too noisy. It’s almost as though you want someone walking in to find us like this.”

Your dress is only noticeably bunched up from the back and Zayne is still fully clothed. Anyone walking by the billiard hall would just see a couple talking by the tables, but if they were to enter the room it would hardly take a brain surgeon to figure out what was happening. The realization has your walls clench around nothing.

Zayne hoists your wrists up, forcing you into a deeper arch before untying your restraints. You then watch him fist the purple silk into a ball before pushing it into your mouth, gagging you with it. “Don’t worry, this will help.”

It doesn't.

You moan against his tie, saliva pooling against the silky fabric as Zayne pushes the soaked garment deeper into your throat, his chest pressed against your bare back. You look up at him through watery eyes, sniffling, the tingling sensation of being punished in such a way overwhelming you completely. Zayne uses this opportunity to soothe you like he always does— never failing to find the perfect balance between rough and gentle.

"It's alright, I know, my little darling can’t make up her mind. I’ll help you, I’ll show you what you want." Zayne soothes, stroking your cheek with his thumb, his gaze gentle despite his steady and strict voice. Then, he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he whispers, “If anything hurts or becomes too much, tap the table twice." 

You wouldn’t dare, not after finally getting what you wanted.

Zayne slips his hands under the backs of your thighs, easily lifting your weight against his chest as you whimper, the toes of your heels just barely grazing the tiled floor. The position is beyond embarrassing, ass up, face down, completely exposed and at his mercy.

He withdraws one hand, and you cry out, a garbled mess of pleas. The absence of his touch is torturous, the throbbing of your pussy and the soreness of your ass a painful reminder of the punishment you received.

The tent in his pants was tantalizingly obvious, even more pronounced once he pushed his pants down, taking out his length. He spits on his fingers, the slick sounds of him stroking himself making you whine in anticipation. It was oozing with precum, head red and flushed as he jerks himself off with sharp movements between your thighs. You grind your hips back, trying to tempt him, but all Zayne does is coo at your pitiful attempts.

"Look at you, so desperate. All that childish stubbornness just because you want my cock." He lines himself up, the head of his cock catching against your entrance as you shiver. The stretch burns, and you groan, eyes screwing shut at the feeling. "My beautiful, filthy girl."

Zayne whispers, curling an arm between your sweat-slickened bodies. You think he means to finally alleviate the needy throbbing against your clit, but instead his hand presses firmly against your lower stomach as he continues to fuck into you, torturously slow, allowing the blunt head of his cock to bully its way deeper and deeper still. 

The sensation is overwhelming, the stretch of Zayne's cock combined with the sting of his earlier punishment leaves you a mess, fluttering around him as he finally bottoms out.

He lets out a long moan, a low rumble that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. You're so full, the head of his cock pressing insistently against the bundle of nerves inside you.

Some distant part of you is mortified of every lewd squelch and moan that echos over the jazz in the public hall, but feeling Zayne gently cup your ass while the other brutally pins you down, hearing him come apart against the back of your neck, knowing that your stoic lover was pushed to such extremes has you keening.

You want to feel every inch of him, so you clench down, and Zayne bites the back of your neck in retaliation, his hips stuttering.

"You’re perfect." Zayne praises, and his breathless voice sends shivers down your spine. "So good for me, taking me so well."

Zayne finally starts moving, letting the tip of his cock pull back until the head catches on the rim of your cunt, trying desperately to keep him inside, until he thrusts back into you in a single harsh motion, watching you fall apart just as he knew you would. 

Your scream muffles into the gag, and Zayne reaches down to push the tie deeper into your mouth, the knot catching on the back of your tongue as he sets a steady pace. 

The hand against your lower stomach shifts, still pressing hard enough so Zayne can feel his cock throb through you, and yet now positioned perfectly to thumb against your clit too. He needs to make you come, to feel it around him. 

Zayne knows your body better than his own, knows exactly what angle he needs to hit, knows exactly where to touch to send your hips jerking back, and knows exactly where to tease to have you clenching down and sobbing into his tie.

It doesn't take long until you're coming, his fingers circling the bundle of nerves until you're screaming, thighs shaking, and he has to hold them open as you fall apart around him, cunt gushing as you squirt over his suit and trousers.

Your orgasm has your walls fluttering, clenching around his cock as it nearly begs for him to be buried deeper inside, and Zayne grunts, a broken moan ripped from his throat as his grip on your thigh tightens.

The pace of his thrusts grows sloppier, and you can tell he's close, the wet squelch of his cock inside your cunt driving you mad as his rhythm becomes inconsistent. You can feel his breath fan against your neck, labored and shaky, with the way he chases his high.

Your cunt aches with how full you feel, overstimulated and sensitive, but you push your hips back anyway, meeting Zayne halfway as you both chase the release that's been building up all night.

With one final thrust, Zayne finally comes inside you, a choked gasp followed by a low moan as his hips stutter, almost fucking his cum back into you as a sloppy mixture of your release drip down his cock and your thighs. 

Your eyes roll back into your skull, and your second orgasm takes you by surprise, your body convulsing at the overstimulation and the warm soothing sensation of being filled to the brim. 

"Fuck." Zayne whispers, his hands holding your hips as his thumbs trace circles against the dimples at the small of your back. The chill and comfort of his hands is almost enough to distract you from the ache, and you groan, legs finally giving out beneath you as you fall forward onto the pool table, the hard surface unforgiving as the wood rubs against your bruised knees.

Ever so gently, Zayne removes his tie from your mouth, turning you around so you’re pressed tight against his chest, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder. You can feel his rapid heartbeat and the way his hands tremble, and you smile, the familiar tenderness of his touch calming the both of you.

He slowly runs a hand down the curve of your back and you hum against the top of his head, your own hand coming up to gently stroke his hair. “I think I love you, Zayne.”

He doesn’t say a word, instead, you feel his other arm wrap around your waist, tucking you further into his embrace.

The two of you remain like this, tangled in each other until your breathing finally evens out and the fever that inflected you begins to cool. When Zayne finally speaks, his voice is muffled against your skin, and you shiver at the mere brush of his lips. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“Hmm, not any more than I’d want to be.” 

You mean it as a joke, but Zayne immediately stiffens in your hold, pulling back just enough to inspect your neck, then your wrists and hips as he kisses each bruise and remaining mark with hushed apologies. 

"Did you mean it?"

You look down at him, his brows furrowed as you thumb at the stubborn crease that appears between them. You’re not sure why, but something in the way he stares up at you, waiting, longing, makes tears prick in the back of your eyes. 

"Zayne," your voice is gentle, and you cup his cheek. "I do. I love you."

The tension in his jaw melts, his expression softening into something unnameable. His hand comes up to cup yours, scarred thumb tracing circles against your palm. " Say it again."

"I love you," you repeat, the corners of your mouth tugging upwards. "I love you. I love you."

"Again."

"I love you, Zayne–"

The last syllable of his name is cut off by his lips against yours, and you smile into the kiss, pulling him up until his forehead finally rests on your again. 

"As do I," Zayne whispers, voice thick as he holds you close.

And you believe him.

[spokenforyou]

sylus x fem reader

NIGHT OF SECRECY

synopsis: sylus leaves in the morning for a few days, but you don’t want him to leave just yet. notes: haven’t posted because i was focusing on LADS, but this is heavily inspired by the new card, using lines as well. i pulled all 4 cards! so i might make one for each boy. warnings: unprotected, vulgarity, body worship, cream pie wc: 2.1k

[minors don’t interact… by choosing to interact with this content, you are consenting to view something that is not appropriate and nsfw despite warnings!]

Safety first right? You’re staying with Sylus in one of his safe houses, located somewhere in the N109 Zone. You’re out of reach from anyone, so that means he’s entirely yours until he leaves for a couple days.

You’re dreading it, how could you possibly survive without him? How could you satisfy your needs?

So you take it upon yourself to make this night memorable, to make him crave you.

After a long night out, Sylus carries you to his dimly lit room, you in one arm, your shoes in the other. When he nears the couch, he stops. His eyes gaze into yours and he smiles softly.

“If you don’t want to lie down, I can keep holding you until I leave.”

You respond quickly as he slowly sets you down on your feet with a smirk.

“What if I don’t want you to leave?” You smile back, a flirtatious one at that. Sylus catches on and nods.

“Then… We better make the most of our time before dawn.” He holds his smirk and you push him down on the couch. Your legs coming to rest on the outsides of his. His hand wraps around the back of your thigh and grazes your bottom, squeezing it.

You connect your lips to his in a hungry kiss, and he pulls away briefly.

“You really don’t want me to leave…” He smirks before pulling you back towards his lips. His hands move to your waist, pulling you against him.

Sylus deepens the kiss, his fingers gripping the sides of your waist, pulling you even closer to him. His tongue parts your lips, licking the inside of your mouth, tasting you. Sweet honey.

Your fingers slide across the open of his shirt, feeling his firm chest. He moans into your mouth, low in his chest, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

You can feel the heat and weight of him between your spread thighs when you rock into him gently. His pants tighten more and more as the kissing goes on.

He pushes his hips up to meet yours, a low growl leaving his throat. His hand grips your ass, kneading it and pulling you down against him. You softly moan and whisper, “Over there…”

He rises, effortlessly lifting you into his arms and walking towards the bed with ease. Lips never leaving yours…

“Anything you want, princess.” He places you down, climbing over your body. His lips crash back down onto yours and he grinds against you once more. The open area allows him freedom, he takes advantage of it.

His lips drag down towards your neck, biting it and sucking, leaving marks to be seen for days.

“You can be even greedier, kitten…” He whispers before coming back up to face level.

“Don't look…” Sylus places a hand over your eyes and kisses you once more, his hand attempting to hide his desperate need for you. God, how he loves your lips. Soft and felt like home. They were so inviting, and only he could taste them.

His hands roam all over your body, and he slowly pulls away. He slides his shirt off before working on removing your layers.

Once bare, his mouth works its way down your neck, to your shoulder, across your collarbone. His warm tongue travels over the top of your breast, teasing biting your nipple before trailing down the underside.

He puts his focus on your breasts for a bit, swirling his tongue, biting, and kitten licking. Knowing how to please you he smirks at the sounds you make.

“Fuck…” You let out the quietest moan. You can feel the heat and weight of him between your spread thighs, still fully clothed. He pulls away to look at you, his eyes dark and full of hunger but cautious.

“You okay, baby? We can stop. You know I won’t mind.” His eyes lock on yours as your chest heaves.

“I’m okay Sylus.” You smile as you finally catch your breath.

“Yeah, but… Do you want this?” Sylus runs his hands along your legs, feeling the smooth skin beneath them. Body of a goddess.

“I need to hear you say it, sweetie.” He kisses where his fingers run.

“I want it Sy… I-I want you.” You correct yourself and he nods before reaching for your skirt.

Sylus latches onto it and pulls it down, along with your underwear. The damp fabric is thrown behind him and he drools at the sight of you. So needy and hungry for him, like always.

“Looks like you don’t even need foreplay baby…” He chuckles and runs a finger along your heat, wetness gathering on his finger. His pink lips press a quick kiss to your clit.

You giggle quietly and roll your eyes. “Never need it with you.”

Sylus agrees with you wholeheartedly. You have always been excited by Sylus. Whether it be just being near him or the lightest touch of his pinky finger.

He pulls away and undoes his belt, his hands moving quickly to pull down his pants and boxers, eager to satisfy his and your need.

His cock springs out, standing tall and pulsing. He gives it a couple of strokes before approaching you once more.

“On your stomach, baby.” His eyes drink you in as he speaks and you quietly do as told.

Sylus moves up behind you, straddling your body with his legs. He grabs your hips and slides you towards him. The weight and heat of his body pressing against you, his hands on either side of your head as he kisses his way down your spine.

His hands run along your skin, grabbing your ass in particular before he pulls away. He moves to get up off the bed, his footsteps soft over the carpet as he makes his way to the other side of the room.

You hear a drawer open, rummaging through some things before it closes again, his footsteps padding across the room to the bed.

He grabbed a bottle of lube, squirting the tiniest bit on his length, to ease you. He knew how big he was, and how much the stretch is, he never wanted to hurt you.

“Spread your legs for me, love. Just a little wider for me, mmkay?” Sylus says in the softest yet dominating voice as he comes up behind you, spreading the lubricant.

He moves in between them and grips your hips, pulling you up so you’re resting on your hands and knees. He leans down into you, the hard line of his length against your back.

“You feel that?” He moans against your neck as he places open-mouthed kisses there, and his hands wander over your body again.

“Please…” you whisper and he growls, immediately wrapping a hand around himself to press the tip to your aching entrance.

“Breathe, okay?” Sylus holds onto your hip with one hand, his other hand comes up to the back of your neck in a light grip.

Holding you in place and keeping your head pulled back, he slowly begins pushing inside. A low moan escapes both of your mouths.

The right squeeze of your walls almost causes him to burst right then and there, but luckily he can control his body.

“You gotta relax for me.” He groans, stilling inside of you until you loosen.

“I… I’m trying…” you whine and nearly collapse on the bed.

He leans down and kisses you between your shoulders. “I know. You’re doing so well. Just bear down a little for me, love. Push back into me… Just like that. That a girl.”

Your hips press against his, allowing you to relax against him. He lets out a hiss once he finally bottoms out and you moan. Taking that as a sign he moves a bit.

Sylus slowly pulls out almost to the tip before pushing back in. His hands gripping your hips again, lips leaving openmouthed kisses along your neck and shoulders, biting gently at the skin.

You can feel his muscles tense behind you, his whole body shaking with the effort of trying to hold back. His pace quickens, hand holding the back of your neck, keeping you in place as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Tell me how you want it. Nice and gentle or..” He slides back in deeper, a moan leaving his chest as he bites your ear. “Hard and fast.” He moans into your skin.

“You want it rougher? Say the words for me and I’ll give it to you.” His lips and teeth find your neck, leaving behind little love bites as he works his way to your ear.

His voice was a low, almost whisper, “Just say it and I’ll give it to you, princess.”

You nearly let out a bratty whine at his words. “I want you to give it to me good, Sy… Just let go.”

You barely recognize your voice, breathy and full of desire, a desperate, needy sound you didn’t even know you could make.

At your words, something seems to snap inside him. Sylus’ body suddenly tenses up behind you and you can feel his grip on you tighten, his breathing changing to low, ragged almost growls, his breathing growing labored.

It’s like he was just waiting for you to say the actual words. He pulls back and then thrusts forward, setting a hard and fast pace from the start.

The sudden change in pace has you reeling. You can barely breathe as he drives into you from behind, the new angle allowing him to reach deeper than you could have ever imagined.

Moans and groans fill the room as you guys enjoy each other and then he hits that spot inside you.

Sylus’ hand tightens in your hair, his body pressed firmly against you as he mutters out a string of words.

“There you go, there’s my good girl, taking all of me like you know you should.” His voice was laced with honey and desire.

You were too cock drunk to even respond. The only thing on your mind was him. He leans down, his voice dark and rough with desire.

“That feel good? Say it. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head. Let me hear you.” He hits that spot again, a low growl leaving his lips and you nearly give out. Stars cloud your vision as you near release.

“Feels so good, Sy, so so good.” You finally manage words and he pushes you down completely.

You lay flat as he plunges into you at this new angle, his legs pushing yours together. The two of you feel more, and a tighter feel.

“Sy… I’m so close.” You moan into the mattress and he groans. He can tell. It’s like he can hear it in your voice. He can hear your breaths come out faster and rougher, how you’re gripping the sheets, your legs tensing up…

“Yeah, you’re close for me? You gonna cum for me, beautiful?” Sylus picks up speed to get himself closer.

You clench around him and let out a cry of his name. He follows suit with a loud moan, thrusting through your climaxes. His tip nearly bursts through your cervix as he shoots his warm essence inside your womb.

Painting your walls, and filling your stomach, he groans while he pulses. You milked him, and it was always something you were good at.

“Fuck…” You let out a subtle whisper as you pant, and you hear his chuckle behind you.

“Mmm, got that right. You drained me, kitten.” He kisses your back before pulling out.

You wince at the loss of contact, and he flips you onto your back. Sylus moves to grab a tissue from a box near the bed, quickly cleaning in between your legs. He smirks.

“Such a mess kitten...” He pulls back up, throws away the tissue, and lays down.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him, his soft lips trailing over your neck and jaw and down to your shoulder.

Sylus holds you close while his breathing evens out. His hand gently comes to rest on your stomach, massaging the skin there.

His thumb rubs small circles, lips still finding that same spot on your neck, still leaving tiny kisses there.

“You feeling alright, love?” His words break you out of a daze.

“Mmm, yeah I’m good Sylus.” You chuckle and he smirks against your neck. He softly kisses your neck and shoulder and gently presses himself up against you harder.

“Good. I wanted to check.”

His hand slowly moves down your stomach, coming to rest on your mound. “You sure you’re good? Not too sore? Not too tired?”

“I’m sure.” You whisper back and let your eyes rest. He moves closer and surrounds every part of you.

Sylus whispers low in your ear, his voice gentle.

“If you’re sure… then I wanna try something. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop. Just let me know.”

He gently grabs the bottom of your thigh, pulling it back, bending it at the knee, and pulling it back over his thigh.

He presses himself up against you, the weight of him resting between your thighs, his lips finding your neck again as he gently presses small kisses along your skin, and he slowly grinds forward, just a little.

You gasp at the slight friction, and he smiles.

“Feel good, baby? You like that?”

“Mmm…” You bite your lip, holding back a moan, and he catches on. His swollen head slips and slides between your folds as he bites down on your skin.

Slowly, Sylus’ tongue traces over his bite to soothe and ease the sting, his fingers trailing down your side to your hips. His breathing changes, becoming heavier when he grinds against you a little harder, a quiet moan leaving his chest.

Sylus pants, feeling a new urge of need course through his body.

“You know, there are a lot of things I wanna do to you, a lot of places I want my mouth on… Let’s go for round two kitten.”