#even if i struggled to find time to respond to everything

[mothofmyth]

DC x DP

The Justice League summons the ghost king.

Unfortunately, the safest way JLD can find requires a host body to contain the being.

Obviously Superman, Wonder Woman, and Flash are out - who knows what this being would do with a super-powered body. They have no idea how Captain Marvel or Green Lantern type magic would interact with the summoning, so not them either. They need Constantine and Zatanna to perform the ritual.

Basically it's down to the bats.

Batman tries to volunteer - better him than one of his kids if anything were to go wrong.

That gets vetoed. As do a lot of his offspring. The safest options (ie the least contaminated by magic, lazarus water, time shenanigans, and everything else) are Red Robin, Spoiler, and Nightwing.

Nightwing pulls rank.

After a lot of arguing, everyone at least agrees to tolerate the arrangement.

Nightwing removes every possible weapon from himself, allows himself to be tied to a chair in the middle of a summoning circle, and waits for JL Dark to complete the ritual.

It's not long before he feels a surge of cold burning through him.

He expected to be unconscious while the Ghost King took over. That's what Zatanna said had been reported the last time this ritual was performed many years ago.

They had all expected a lot of things.

Pariah Dark was supposed to be terrifying to behold - a massive, cruel, FURIOUS dictator who turned to violence at the smallest sleight.

This was... definitely not that.

Dick was present. He had no control over his body, but he could see and hear in an almost dream-like state. Foggy and indistinct, maybe a little warped, but definitely present.

He felt his heart rate and breathing pick up in panic even though he felt mostly calm (or at least no more anxious than he had been, waiting for an angry deity to possess his body and all). It was a strange sensation.

He felt the vibrations of his own voice as it left his throat, high and confused.

"Wha... Where..." It asked, warbling and afraid.

He felt his eyes blink and his limbs struggle against the bindings.

His head tilted down without his say so, and he looked at his own body as if through rippling water, warped lenses.

"I'm not..." His voice came out, still confused. Still afraid.

"Your Majesty?" Zatanna asked from beyond the limits of the circle.

His head whipped up, and he felt his neck click at the abrupt motion.

His breathing picked up again. Dick felt the ghost (pun not intended) of anxiety, like it was leaking from the other consciousness inhabiting his body.

"We mean you no harm. Our associate has agreed to lend you his body for the duration of this meeting." She continued.

Dick felt the king's anxiety again, stronger this time. Other emotions too, guilt, sorrow, anger, and a strange sort of pressing-tugging sensation.

Suddenly, Dick was back in control. He could still feel the king's consciousness, stronger now than before, but he could also move and speak freely.

"What just happened?" He mumbled, speaking to the ghost, not the audience of heroes.

"Nightwing?" Someone called from outside the circle, but he ignored them for the moment, feeling instead the consciousness inhabiting his body push back fear, guilt, and apology.

"Yeah, it's me. He's still in here, though." Dick frowned, trying to figure out how to interact with the being.

He heard a voice in the back of his mind. It sounded like him. It sounded different. It was younger than him. It was small and afraid. It was neutral and quiet and him. But it wasn't. It was speaking. It was silent. It was emotions and thoughts and nothing.

"Oooookay, this is really weird. I think we're communicating. I don't know how to talk back, but if he's in the same situation I was a minute ago he should be able to hear us just fine. Is that right?" Nightwing tried.

The 'voice' (he figured he'd call it a voice for now. He wasn't sure what else he could call it) responded in the affirmative. Like a hand outstretched, flipping up and down in a 'kinda' type of gesture. Like a nod and a hesitant smile. The feeling of victory by default.

Dick beamed.

"Okay yeah he can hear us." He announced for the benefit of their audience. "Why didn't you stay where you could speak? Wouldn't that have been easier?" He looked at his own chest, as if he could somehow find a way to see the presence inside of him.

Disgust. Guilt. Fear. An unexpected step at the bottom of a staircase. Falling off a pier into tempestuous water. A stranger pinning your hands above your head.

"Oh." Dick breathed. "Thank you, but I can handle it."

Guilt. Guilt. GUILT.

"Okay. It's alright. You can speak through me or we can manage like this." He soothed.

"Nightwing, report." Batman demanded.

"Uhh, right. I think he's trying to be courteous? To me, I mean. From what I can gather, he doesn't want to possess me or take over. He seems pretty repulsed by the idea, to be honest. I think he can see and hear and generally experience everything I'm experiencing, he's just more passenger than driver? I can feel him, and he's communicating, he just can't speak through me without taking my autonomy again, and he really doesn't want to do that." Dick explained, looking at the various states of thinly-veiled bewilderment across the faces of the heroes.

"Ask him if he's Pariah Dark, High King of the Infinite Realms, Ancient of Rage and Destructio-" Constantine begins, before Dick cuts him off

"I just said he can hear everything we're saying. Ask him yourself."

Constantine huffs. "You heard me, mate. Are you him?"

Denial. Contemplation. A battle. Single combat. A crown made of black thorns and green flames. A throne too big for he who sits in it. Victory. Desperation. Insufficiency. A question.

"I think..." Dick starts, trying to understand. "I think he's the King... but he's not Pariah Dark."

Agreement. Apology. Questioning.

"He wants to know if we're looking for Pariah Dark, or if we're looking for the High King of the Infinite Realms." He glances between Zatanna and Constantine, uncertain of the answer himself.

Constantine pales.

"Whatever is inside you defeated the ancient of Rage and Destruction in single combat, Nightwing. It's a powerful motherfucker, and a total unknown." He warns cautiously.

"Get him out of there, now. Send it back." Batman demands.

TERROR. Pleading. Unbearable suffering. Shiny metal dripping with green blood. The end of love. Unfathomable loss. Death without release. Unending torment. Begging.

"NO!" The voice tears its way out of Nightwing without his consent.

Cowering. Apology. Apology. Guilt. Apology.

Dick clears his throat. "I don't think he wants to leave."

"All the more reason to send it back." Batman growls.

"Don't." Dick protests. "I know it's a risk, and there's a chance it's manipulating me. But, something doesn't feel right about all of this."

"Ghosts are well known for their skills regarding manipulation, mind control, and emotion tampering." Zatanna cautions.

"According to those dehumanising rags maybe," Constantine scoffs.

"Every source we have-"

"Two sources, Love. Both of which have a bit of a vested interest, wouldn't you say?"

Fear. FEAR. Frustration. Heartbreak. An unheard voice in a crowded room. A layperson lecturing an expert. Mockery. A spectacle of suffering. Lies. Hurt. Fear.

"He agrees with Constantine." Dick pipes in.

Exasperation. Reluctance.

"I don't think he's too happy about it." He laughs.

"Of course he agrees with Constantine, he's giving him what he wants." Red Robin huffs.

"He's afraid." Dick's voice cuts through the argument and the heroes turn to look at him. "I don't know exactly what's happening, but he's terrified of being sent back."

Zatanna sighs. "Let's do what we came to do, and then maybe we'll talk about letting him out."

(Something goes wrong and Dick and Danny end up stuck like this for a while.

Dick moves back into Wayne Manor while they try to figure out how to remove Danny from Dick's body without hurting either of them.

Everybody starts referring to Phantom as Dick's little passenger.

Eventually they repeal the Anti-Ecto Acts and find out all of the trauma Danny's been through via talking and dream/memory bleeding between him and Dick.

When Danny does finally manage to tumble out of Dick he is promptly adopted into the Batfam (what did anyone expect, he's a traumatised young teenager with black hair and blue eyes and barely any sense of self preservation).

In the meantime, however, Dick is happily going about his daily life with his little passenger, and Danny is still very traumatised but he's also contentedly curled up in Dick's chest, thrumming with happiness whenever Dick takes care of him.

Once or twice when Dick gets into Big Danger while vigilante-ing, Phantom forcibly takes over Dick's body to save him, using his ghost powers to fight the bad guy and escape the scenario. He cries afterwards because even though he needed to save Dick's life, he knows how terrifying and violating it feels to have someone else controlling your body (thanks Circus Gothica) and never wants to put anyone else through that.)

[sinkuna]

୨୧ — Every damn morning like clockwork, 5:45 AM. Tiny fingers pry one of Sukuna’s eyelids open, a small face hovering inches from his own. Her hair still wild from sleep, cheeks flushed with excitement, "Papa! Wake up!" Small hands nudging him while clutching her pink brush and collection of scrunchies against her pjs, "Hair time!"

Sukuna clicked his tongue, a massive hand engulfing her tiny face as he gently pushed her back, "Go back to bed, brat."

"Nooooo!" She whined, pushing his hand off her face and climbing onto his broad back, "You promised!"

With a displeased groan, he rolls over, causing her to slide off his back with a delighted squeal. Sitting up while running a hand through his own disheveled hair, he looks at the brat he helped create with a scowl, "Gimme that," he grumbles, snatching the brush from her.

She scrambles into his lap, her small back pressed against his chest, practically vibrating with excitement. Sukuna couldn’t relate, it was early… too early, like always. He looks down at the top of her head and mutters under his breath, "She was supposed to be a boy..."

Propping yourself up on one elbow, you trace your fingers over his the tattoos that decorate his warm arm, "You say that every morning," you tease him softly.

"Because it's true every morning," he fires back, but the corner of his mouth twitches upward. Awkwardly, he begins working through her tangles, his calloused hands- hands that at times come home bloody, now trying to be gentle with his daughter's delicate scalp.

"Ooww! Papa!!! You're pulling!"

"Stay still then..." he grunts, trying again with more care, "Your hair's a damn mess." As he brushes through her strands, he couldn't help but think how absurd this was- he was Sukuna Ryomen, the fucking guy who’s got everyone pissing their pants in fear… The guy who was born out of bloodshed, who's never had a single care for the lives he's taken. How the hell did he end up with a little girl, a wife, and a home? … His eyes softened as they narrowed, how the hell did he find himself fearing for this tiny things future- the day she's old enough to be married off to a man like him…?

He’s grown soft…

But it doesn't mean he won't rip out the throat of any man who dares lay a finger on her...

You watch, warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of Sukuna struggling, being utterly defeated by a five year old's bedhead, "Want me to take over-"

"No!" both father and daughter respond in unison, making you throw your hands up in surrender before they decide to kick you out of bed.

"I got this," Sukuna insists, his fingers, more accustomed to handling weapons and violence than hair accessories, fumbling with the thin strands. His brow furrowed in concentration as he attempted to separate her hair into sections. How the fuck was he supposed to make three even parts again?

Your daughter looks over at you, wholesome pride in her eyes. This was their thing- this morning struggle that somehow means everything to both of them. Even if Sukuna doesn't admit it, he loves being the protective girl dad... enjoys feeling needed and special in this way.

You lean against his bare shoulder as you watch him separate her hair into three uneven sections, trying to remember how braiding works. The girl in his lap patiently waits with the biggest smile, offering encouraging words as if she's the adult coaching the child.

"Papa! Papa! Like this! Over not under, remember? You did it yesterday!"

"Yesterday I fucked it up too." he mumbles, starting over for a third time.

When he finally manages something resembling a braid, secured with her favorite sparkly leopard scrunchie, she hops off his lap to examine his work in the bathroom mirror. You take the opportunity to press a kiss to Sukuna’s shoulder, then his neck, then the corner of his mouth, "Looks like you're getting better~."

"Don't start what you can't finish," he warns, his voice dropping lower as he turns to catch your lips properly. His hand coming up to squeeze your cheek possessively.

Your daughter returns before you could respond, beaming despite the crooked, messy braid that's already coming undone at the bottom, "Perect! Thank you, Papa!"

Sukuna breaks away from you, looking down at her, at this tiny little being who fears nothing about him... not his size, not his tattoos, not how he puts the fear of god in her preschool teacher. She sees only her papa, the man who makes her burnt pancakes and braids her hair poorly.

The man who protects you- her mother, and would do anything for her. The man who would secretly die for her…

Placing his hand on the top of her head, he gives it a little ruffle, "Yeah kid... perfect."

[seungisms]

( skz reaction ) threesome with another member .ᐟ

🖇️📂 who your skz boyfriend would like to have a threesome with/how they’d act during it

genre: smut, minors dni, warnings: unprotected sex, public sex, threesome, double penetration, creampies, degradation, voyeurism, humiliation kink, polyamorous/sharing implications, note: more inexperienced!jeongin cause i clearly have some sort of a problem now 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

방찬. BANG CHAN

(minho)

chan would be the first to admit that he loves watching you get yourself off, something about you struggling to cum and begging for his cock as your fingers pitifully pump into your pussy just makes his dick so full. but what he won’t admit is how much he wants to see you get fucked by someone else. can definitely see him turning to one of the older members and with how close he is with minho he would be his first choice. so when you made an offhanded comment about how attractive you found minho he saw it as the perfect opportunity to finally get his bandmates cock into you. which is how you found yourself sandwiched between the two in some empty supply closet in the middle of a set, the muffled voice of their backstage manger ringing faintly in your ear and going ignored by the two - minho far too busy with working your cunt open on long fingers, curling them deep and slow against your cervix, muttering the filthiest shit in your ear, “always knew you wanted me, could practically feel you fucking me with your eyes everytime i came around.” an utter contrast to the way chan was simply pressing his cock into the curve of your ass from behind you, pressing you even further into his friends chest, burying his nose into your neck as he watches over you shoulder how minho flips up your skirt to get a better look at your cute cunt, groaning when it greedily eats his digits up.

“you like that baby? like minho taking care of you?” and you can only respond with a pathetic whimper - wanting, needing, something longer and thicker to fill your pussy up with. and you hate the way minho knows this, chuckling at your eagerness as your eyes follow his slow movements of unbuckling his belt, chan propping your back up against his chest and spreading your thighs, giving his bandmate full access to his girlfriends cunt. and you would’ve almost forgot about your boyfriends presence if it weren’t for the hot press of his cock prodding against your backside. minho fucks you like he’s waited his entire life to, cock bullying its way into your pussy, stretching you out with every full inch that nudges into you. doesn’t even give you time to adjust to his size, pumping himself into your small cunt and forcing you to take everything he gives you, no matter how much you struggle. but chan is guiding you through the whole time, with pretty words and sweet praises, keeping you steady on strong arms while minho feeds load after load of cum into you. “c’mon, take it pretty girl. i know you can.” and chan is cumming with you both, making a mess of his briefs when he watches minho pull his dick from you - the sight of his girlfriends pussy ruined and dripping in another mans cum going straight to his cock. can definitely see chan having minho join you both again, even just to watch - he’ll just never let on how quickly he came from watching another mans dick find home in your pussy.

리노. LEE MINHO 

(seungmin)

minho always had a friendly rivalry with seungmin that you constantly seem to have to break up. they couldn’t help themselves from bickering over trivial things - who’s the better dancer, who’s funnier, who’s better looking. they love getting a rise out of eachother. until it’s not so friendly anymore, seungmin swearing one day he could get a girl off better than anyone. and minho sees it as nothing short of a challenge. so you can’t say you’re surprised when you find yourself pressed into the small worn out sofa in your apartment, your group movie night suddenly flipped on it’s head and now seungmin had his buried between your legs. and he won’t let up for a second, determined to make a liar out of your boyfriend as he slobbers, and licks and groans into your pussy - your little bud almost raw and swollen from his incessant stimulation. and minho can do nothing but watch from the other end of your couch, stroking your hair from where your head lay on his thighs, shushing your cute whimpers when his friend nudges a long finger past your folds, fucking in and out of your cunt to coax more of those pretty whines out of you. “that’s it sweetheart, let seungminnie look after you.” it doesn’t take long for seungmin to force an orgasm out of you, lapping up your sweet cum with a satisfied hum, giving a final pinch to your sore pussy before pulling away with a smug grin. and minho doesn’t give you a minute to recover, wanting nothing more than to wipe that fuckass smirk off his bandmates face, pressing his tongue hot against your sensitive clit - not giving a shit his friends salvia was dripping with your cum past your bud. 

somewhere along the way they forget about their stupid competition, focused more on stuffing all your holes full to the brim with cum. they’re not shy about it either, taking turns to fuck your throat and pussy - getting to the point where you can’t tell who’s who and what cock was currently abusing your poor cunt. and you’re left feeling so powerless between them, going limp somewhere along the way with the help of minho’s strong arms keeping you up right, back pressed against his sweaty chest as he fucked into from behind - cock curved and kissing impossibly deep - seungmin propped between your spread legs, dick forcing it’s way into you everytime your boyfriend pulled out, determined to not leave you feeling empty for a second. and it’s almost too much, having two dicks fuck you at once going straight to your head, pussy pulsing and begging for a break. but they won’t let up until you’ve been fucked throughly, dripping in cum and unable to hold anymore. and it seems like their silly rivalry didn’t even matter to the both of either of them anymore.  

창빈. SEO CHANGBIN

(felix)

you were constantly fighting for your boyfriends attention. it felt like he always had an excuse to hang out with felix instead. oh, you wanted me to go shopping with you today? sorry, i already went with felix. you want to go out for dinner later? can felix join? babe, felix showed me this new movie that’s out! oh, you want to come? we only got two tickets. everywhere your boyfriend was felix seemed to follow. it got to the point that changbin couldn’t ignore the tension between you both anymore - he wanted nothing more than for his two favourite people to get a long - so what better way to get rid of tension than to fuck it away? i mean, he does everything with felix, why not let him do you too? you had reluctantly agreed when you heard how eager felix was, not expecting much from the younger boy - but god, were you glad you did. especially with the way your boyfriends groupmate was doing everything in his power to prove himself to you, pressing into you from behind until he was buried to the hilt inside your pussy - struggling to hide his soft whimpers when you clench down and press around him like a vice, determined to milk him for all he’s got. and he can barely keep up with the pair of you, locking eyes with changbin who couldn’t care less about his younger friends slipping composure, settled against the headboard of your bed with you propped between his spread legs, licking and suckling away at his veiny cock - forced to hit the back of your throat everytime felix can’t help himself but nudge himself deeper into your cunt - thrusting you forward onto your boyfriends dick. 

felix can’t help himself but get so carried away, still fucking himself into you when you’ve long since tapped out, so drunk on the feeling of your pussy sucking him in that he can’t even think straight, only with his dick. and he’s so apologetic too :( “I’m sorry, sorrysorrysorry. just wanna fuck you so bad, wanted to fuck you for so long.” but his constant chants for forgiveness fall on deaf ears as he just continues to nudge into you even deeper and faster than before, eager to paint your pretty pussy in his cum like he’s always wanted to. and you don’t have the strength to stop him, looking up at your boyfriend through tired eyes as he shushes your whimpers, having abandoned his cock long ago while his friend bullies your cunt. but he supposes he can forgiev you just this once, you look so sweet getting dicked down :(

현진. HWANG HYUNJIN

(jeongin)

jeongin was never subtle about his crush on you. he felt like a teenager again whenever he was around you - stumbling over his words when you made the simplest of conversations with him, eyes lingering a little too long anytime you showed the slightest flash of skin, popping a boner whenever you greeted him with a hug - he always seemed to think with his dick with you around, so he thought it easier to start ignoring you, and your boyfriend definitely noticed. hyunjin could hear the youngest whimpering your name at night, closing himself off to the other members cause he just felt so guilty for being so attracted to his hyungs girlfriend. but if anything your boyfriend found it cute, sweet even - so he was more than happy to share you with his maknae. poor boy couldn’t believe his ears at first, thinking it was some sort of sick joke but that was too mean even for hyunjin, and he couldn’t possibly let the opportunity of finally finding out how tight your little pussy really is pass. he’s so awkward the whole time, not knowing exactly what to do with his hands, looking up at you so sweetly from between your legs begging for some sort of guidance, whimpering into your greedy kisses and getting too excited that he forgets how big his dick is - fucking so deep inside of you it’s almost painful. 

but hyunjin is there to keep him right, telling him how you like to be fucked, reminding him to keep stimulating your clit while pushing his dick into you, not to be afraid to slap you around a little - and jeongin is addicted to the way your body seems to respond to all of this. lets you use him in anyway you like, sitting yourself down onto his thick cock and using it to get yourself off, forcing your fingers into his mouth and making him suckle on them while he stares at you through big eyes, not believing he really had you here, fucking your tight cunt on his cock. it was better than any wet dream he’s ever had. as much as hyunjin loves his younger friend, he loves your pussy even more. and he’s soso impatient, especially as he watches you struggle to cum, it has him actually feeling jealous that he wasn’t the one buried inside of you right then. and he can’t help but to settle himself behind you, positioning your body until your chest was pressed tightly against jeongins’, cunt still stuffed full of cock before your boyfriend is forcing his own in, stretching your pussy around two dicks and for a second you fear they’re gonna rip you in half with the way they’re abusing your poor cunt. but hyunjin simply pushes your little whines, smoothing a hand over the arch of your back as you struggle and gasp on both their dicks. “it’s okay sweetheart, i know you can take the both of us. isn’t that right innie?” and jeongin can only manage a whine in response, brows furrowed as he thrusts his cock into you in time with hyunjin, hoping, praying, that this will never end. 

한. HAN JISUNG

(changbin)

jisung shares everything with changbin, his food, his studio, his girl. more than once you’ve found yourself sat on changbin’s cock, fucking the stress out of his muscles as jisung reclined on the studio sofa, hand wrapped tightly and pumping around his swollen cock as he watches you get his bandmate off. changbin was addicted to your pussy, he swears you’ve ruined every other one for him and he’s more than grateful that jisung lets him lose himself in the heat of your warm cunt. and your boyfriend simply responds with, “what are bros for?” but you can’t complain, not when you have two men stimulating your cunt day in and day out, the other busying themselves with work or simply watching from the corner of the room while fisting their dick. but they’ve never fucked you at the same time. not until you’ve begged them prettily enough. jisung loves the thought of you filled to the brim with two cocks, and he’s more than happy to give into your sweet begs - but changbin claims he doesn’t want everything becoming too messy, despite having already made a mess by having filled your pussy up with cum more times than he can possibly count. and he doesn’t give in, not until you already have him too weak and pussy whipped to care. “please bin, need you so bad. just want my two boys to make me feel good,” and he’s cracking.

changbin wonders what the hell he was thinking holding out on you for so long, sweat gathering at the base of his neck as he struggles to fit his cock past your folds, you were already so tight to begin with - but with jisung already bottomed out inside of you long before, your little hole couldn’t take much more with the way it was twitching and fluttering with every inch of cock that was pressing into you. god he didn’t think you could be any hotter. but you were so cock hungry and greedy that even though your pussy was struggling to take them both you were still begging for more, taking anything and everything they’re willing to give you. jisung is so sweet to you too, thumbs keeping your folds spread so that his friend could push into you easier, leaving soft kisses against the flushed skin of your neck and muttering sweet praises in your ear as you gasp and close in around both their cocks. “shhh baby, that’s it. just open up a little more for us.” and when they finally both bury themselves inside of you they’re completely ruining your poor cunt, painting it with cum again and again until you’re sore and dripping in it, fucking your little hole until it’s memorised every curve and vein of both their dicks. yeah, jisung is more than happy to share with changbin. 

필릭스. LEE FELIX 

(hyunjin) 

felix is a pushover. he knows how hyunjin feels about you and vice versa, and he’s such a people pleaser that he wants nothing more than to give you what you want - he just didn’t think you would want his friend. he tries to convince himself he’s only doing it to shut you up, to stop you pining over his goddamn bandmate but as he sits there and watches his friend fuck you, there’s no ignoring the slight twitch of his cock when you whimper and grind down on hyunjins’ dick. he tries reminding himself how wrong all of this really is - but he can’t help from slipping into his briefs, fisting a hand around his slick cock and pumping around it in time with his friends slow ruts into your cute pussy. getting a perfect view of your cunt struggling to stretch around a cock was almost worth the agony of seeing you with another man - and then you look over to him, pretty lips parted and eyes completely unfocused and fucked out, yet begging for even more. “lixie, please. want the both of you so bad.” felix just can’t find it in himself to not give his baby what she wants.

he’s unsure at first, fingers pressing down on your clit as hyunjin nudges himself even deeper into you, coaxing small whimpers past your lips when his fat cockhead kisses the deepest cervices of your pussy, your boyfriend continuing to rub slow circles on your bud, barely getting you off with the nasty way his friend was fucking you. “c’mon felix, she wants your dick. aren’t you gonna give it to her?” and hyunjins’ mocking tone is all he needs to finally give in, slipping his cock out of his briefs to finally find comfort in the warm heat of your cunt, pushing to the hilt inside of you everytime hyunjin pulls out. and felix is ashamed to admit it’s the hardest he’s ever came, watching as your pussy struggles to eat up all the cum that was being forced into it, milking both their dicks until it’s dribbling out past your folds and onto your thighs. he’s so attentive and careful with you after too, kissing you on the forehead after cleaning you up, but not before reminding you - “hope you had fun, cause nothing like that is gonna happen again.” poor boy just isn’t ready to confront how much he enjoyed watching you get fucked by his friend. 

승민. KIM SEUNGMIN

(jisung)

seungmin just wants jisung to shut up for once. he’s easily irritable and jisung just seems to know how to push all the wrong buttons. he almost found it funny how quiet his groupmate became around you, words drying up on his tongue and for once he has nothing to say, too busy following the seam of your little skirt and wondering what kind of pretty pussy was hidden underneath to join in on the conversations happening around him. seungmin is more than happy to let you play with jisung as long as it keeps his mouth busy, and with the way he was greedily suckling and lapping at your clit he didn’t have much to say - whimpering and groaning into the heat of your pussy while grinding his needy cock down against the mattress of the bed, desperate for some form of stimulation that only your cute cunt could provide. and seungmin is just there to mock him the whole time, gripping the back of his head to pull his face away from your pussy, cutting his pathetic whine off with a tut. “look at you, don’t have much to say now huh?” jisung can’t even find it in himself to fight back like he normally would, not when your cunt is looking so sad and abandoned without his face buried in it. 

seungmin loves breaking his hyungs spirit, not allowing him fuck you until he’s proven to him that he actually deserves it - letting you fuck yourself and grind down onto his face until it’s dripping in your cum and all he can feel, taste, see is you. forcing him to drag the length of his dick through your folds, but never actually allowing him to dip in past your greedy little hole. only eventually lets him fuck you after your boyfriend has already fucked you full of cum and your pussy is left all ruined and sticky by him, spreading your pussy open to let his friend sink his bare cock into you. and all jisung can manage is a soft whimper and a string of thankyouthankyouthankyou falling from his lips, eyes blown and hyper focused on your messy cunt looking so inviting. he barely lasts more than a few minutes once he finally sinks into you, the tightness of your pussy all wet and warm immediately suffocating around him and and milking load after load into it until it’s unable to take anymore of him. 

아이엔. YANG JEONGIN 

(chan)

you love jeongin, you really do - you just wish he was better at using his cock. it wasn’t like he was horrible, he was just so hesitant with everything - looking at you for permission before touching you where you need it most, always holding himself back from fucking you too rough even though you’re practically begging for it, only fucking into you with shallow thrusts cause he doesn’t wanna break your little pussy with how big his cock is. and he knows he isn’t giving everything you need, he’s just far too lost in his own head, stressed about accidentally making everything awkward if he completely loses himself in the feeling of your plush walls squeezing down on him like a vice, and god it’s so easy for him with how pussy whipped you have him too. chan is more than shocked when the youngest comes asking him to fuck his girlfriend, but you’re a pretty little thing and he can’t pass up the opportunity of breaking in your sweet cunt. 

“go on baby, thought you were begging for a big cock to fuck you right. what, so now that it’s happening you don’t know how to act?” chan would be so smug with how fast he’s able to fuck you dumb on his dick, pumping into you real deep and slow until you’re left slack jawed and arching into him, desperate to feel even more of him despite struggling to take what he’s given you so far. and all jeongin can do is stare, stare at the way you turn into complete putty on his hyungs dick, how your cunt struggles to swallow his cock up, how you whimper pathetically when the older boy leaves your cunt, pussy suddenly feeling so empty and cold without something filling it up. but as soon as chan beckons jeongin over to settle between your spread legs that empty void leaves, your boyfriends cock kissing impossibly deep against your dripping walls, fucking you the way you so desperately craved him to. jeongin won’t stop until he’s coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of your little cunt, until you’re left swollen and raw and crying out for relief. and chan stays with you the whole time, keeping you grounded with sweet words as you get every coherent thought fucked out of your pretty little head.

© seungisms - all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated. 

[dollracha]

𐙚 i want it ⋆  h.js  x reader

part one ⋆ part two

pairing: han jisung x inexperienced virgin! fem!reader genre: smut warnings: swearing ⋆ slight corruption kink ⋆ needy han ⋆ slight perv!han ⋆ sorta dubcon ⋆ reader is called “baby” (several times) & “my girl” (once) ⋆ spit kink ⋆ non penetrative sex ⋆ munch jisung ⋆ dialogue heavy wc: 707 synopsis: you both promised to take it slow, but jisung struggles to keep his word, and you certainly don't mind. author's note: been thinking about this for days this is so incredibly self indulgent its not funny. this is not beta read. this is barely proofread. i'm just a whore. the first 870 or so of yall saw a slightly different version than everyone else onward. i made some slight changes that needed to be reworked for clarity. and for those of you interested, part 2 is linked above!

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

“fuck, ‘m sorry, baby.” jisung whines into your neck as he ruts his cock against your wet panties. he’s got one hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the other gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. you’ve both soaked your panties, his precum and the wetness from your pussy make it almost uncomfortably sticky.

“god, ‘m so fuckin’... gross.” he rambles, pulling himself up to spit on his cock. he watches it slide off the side of his tip and down your ass. “making a mess of your poor pussy just to get myself off.”

“hannie…” your moan has him rolling his eyes back. you can’t remember how you ended up beneath him, just that you didn’t want it to stop yet. It wasn’t enough. and yet you were trying to find it in you to tell him to slow down, it’s what you wanted after all. to take it slow, wait until ‘the right time’ for your first time with jisung. that went out the window the moment he started feeling you up today.

“i know… said i'd keep my pretty girl all pure for a little longer.”

but jisung’s cock throbs at the sight of you all defiled. your hair is a mess from when he shoved you down on the bed and had his hands all up in it when he kissed you earlier. your makeup is smudged, mascara messy from the way tears well up in your eyes and spill when his cockhead rubs against your clit just right. your lipstick blurs around your lips from the sloppy kisses you shared. he begged you not to wear a bra this morning when you got dressed, it made your tits even easier for him to access. all he had to do was pull down your little tank top and they were all his. your skirt is pushed up, soft tummy peeking out. and your pussy, so wet for him already and he’s still one layer away. 

“look at you… so nasty f’me.”

“can i take off your panties? please, baby?” jisung stops rutting against your clothed pussy and gives a couple hard taps against your clit. “know it’s dirty, baby. but it’ll feel good, okay?”

all you want at this point is to feel good–screw everything else–so you nod and lift your hips so he can slide your panties off your legs.

You try to shut your legs but jisung is quicker. both of his hands keep your thighs open. “let me see that pretty pussy, don’t hide it from me.” he’s quick to spit on it again, and this time you can’t help the high pitched moan that escapes your lips. 

“did your exes ever spit on it, baby?”

you shake your head, hands coming to cover your flushed face. nobody’s ever touched you like jisung has. you've kissed your exes, dry humped, even came from it too. but jisung's the only one who's touched you so intimately, and a part of him hopes it stays that way.

“like it?” he asks and you don’t respond. is it wrong to say you liked it? it’s gross, you think. it’s so so gross… but is it wrong?

warm saliva hits your pussy again, this time you can feel jisung’s breath on you. 

“do you like it when i spit on your pussy, baby?”

“... yes…” you respond, and finally pry your arms away from your face. jisung’s laying down on the bed, hands pressed against your thighs to keep them open. he can’t decide what's a sweeter sight, your glistening pussy or your wide eyes. for now, his eyes lock with yours.

“fuck…” jisung whispers. his eyes fall back to your pussy with a smile. he licks his lips and lets his head fall against the blankets.

“ji?” you reach for his hand, and as soon as he feels your hand on his he’s grasping it, and raising his head up to kiss your knuckles. 

“i know you wanna take it slow… but please, please can i eat you out, baby? ‘s all i want.”

jisung agreed to take it slow, but he's got you half dressed and soaking your bed. maybe you should be mad, but god, the pleasure jisung was giving you was addicting. you weren’t afraid to give yourself away to him at this point.

“i want it.” you nod, and jisung kisses your hand again.

“gotta give my girl what she wants then, yeah?”

© dollracha do not copy reupload or repost.

[mwphisto]

I’m not worth it - Rafayel

Rafayel is genuinely appalled when you tell him that he could find a partner so much more worthy of his love. Not only is he appalled that those words left your lips, he’s utterly appalled that you said them with 100% sincerity.

Better than you? Better than the woman he waited 800 years for? Better than the woman he gave up his entire world for? Better than the woman who owns his heart? Seriously? Do you even hear yourself when you talk?

The anger that flashes across Rafayel’s face has you shrinking back, heart pounding because you realize you are in a world of trouble for saying such a thing. Not just because of the fear, but because he is responding so fiercely to your self deprecating proclamation.

“What?” It’s nothing short of a hiss, a look of genuine disgust on his face. Not at you, but at the heinous idea you dared to utter. “I said I—“ but he cuts you off, a noise of pure anger leaving the artist’s lips.

“I heard you the first time, and I most definitely do not want to hear those words again.”

Then, he’s moving towards you, lithe hands coming up to cup your heated cheeks. The intensity in his gaze urging you to break eye contact but you don’t dare to. “Who do I have to kill?” And you blink, unsure of how to proceed.

“Who do I need to kill?” Again, leaving you lost. “WHO put those god awful thoughts in your pretty little head, cutie? WHO do I need to kill for ever making you doubt your worth of my love and affection.”

And your throat is drying up, because if you give him the honest answer he’d have to kill— “m-me.”

“You?” Rafayel is holding you a little tighter, heart thumping in agony that the creature who could conjure up such evil ideas was none other than yourself.

“What have I done to make you feel like this?” Because clearly he’s done something wrong along the way. Was he too bratty? Too dramatic? Did he make one too many sarcastic comments? Did he act some sort of way that made you question his feelings? He’s spiraling.

“You did nothing! God no, Raf. You’ve done nothing it’s just… me I guess. Self conscious. I-imposter syndrome even! Just… got too lost in my own head and…”

You’re spiraling too, and he can see it just as you picked up on the way he began to lose it. And you still have the audacity to think he wouldn’t burn the world for you? To be able to pick up so easily on his derailing train of thought.

“My love, my entire heart…” he’s coming down, coaching himself mentally to take deep breathes because nothing will get solved if he loses it like he usually does. “… I would destroy the entire world if it meant keeping you happy.”

“I would do whatever you asked me too with no hesitation. You mean everything to me, more than everything. Why would you ever deem yourself unworthy of my love?”

Tears leaked down your cheeks now, not because of your own insecurities but because of how fiercely he was loving you. The way he always had, maybe that was part of the reason you had begun to feel so unsure.

“I think I just…” you sniffle, leaning into Rafayel’s touch as he thumbed away the tears on your cheeks. “…I guess I got so overwhelmed with your love. That… part of me felt undeserving. You’re so handsome, talented, you have a kind soul even though you try to hide it. I’m just… me.”

“Exactly. You’re just you. Perfect in every way. So beautiful, so strong, brave, equally as talented.” His eyes search yours before continuing. “You’re equal amounts of loving and sweet. You put up with my antics like nobody else, you have time for me when nobody ever has.”

“I may not be the easiest lover. I may be dramatic, I may carry my own emotional baggage that I struggle to open up about. But there is one thing I am certain about, one thing I will proudly proclaim with my whole heart. And it’s the fact that I love you more than anything. More than my art, more than my career, more than Lemuira.”

You’re crying hard now, hands holding his wrists. The warmth seeping into his skin as your tears leak down and collect on his palms. He hasn’t let go of your face, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to either. “Please, cutie. My love, my heart, my beautiful girl… the next time you’re feeling like this. Tell me before it becomes unbearable.”

You can only manage a nod, hiccuping as he tugs you close to place kisses all over your face. “I would lay down my life and die for you, so don’t you ever think that you are unworthy of my love. You’re perfect for me, the only woman I could ever want. I waited 800 years for you to return to me, and now that you have, I’m never letting go.”

[cumironi]

BROOO????

featuring. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, sukuna

sum. bro? broooo? right, call your boyfriend with bro and see how their reaction goes. it’s either you get bullied or . . . . bullied? maybe, how about you just find out?

warning. established relationship! jjk men, fluff, crack, suggestive word/tone, teasing, petname(s), pervert! gojo, non-curse! sukuna, sp!nk.

#GOJO SATORU

you leaned against the railing of the training ground, arms crossed as your students trained their asses off. it was a usual day—your morning started with a little… distraction in gojo’s teacher’s room before class, where he had you pressed against his desk, lips molding against yours in a slow, teasing kiss that left you breathless. he was always such a tease, hands ghosting over your waist, tugging you closer, only to pull away with that smug grin of his.

but now, hours had passed, and you hadn’t seen him since.

you let out a quiet sigh, your eyes flickering across the training ground—not really watching your students, more so scanning the area for a certain white-haired menace. where the hell was he? usually, he’d find an excuse to bother you by now, whether it was sneaking into your class, interrupting your lectures with ridiculous questions, or simply appearing out of nowhere just to remind everyone that you were his.

but today? nothing.

your foot tapped against the ground impatiently.

“sensei?”

you snapped out of your thoughts, turning your gaze to one of your students, who was sweating from their training. “huh?”

“you weren’t even watching, were you?” they accused, panting.

you scoffed. “of course, i was.” you weren’t.

after what felt like an eternity of standing around, watching your students struggle through their training session, you finally dismissed them. the moment the last one left, you let out a sigh, dragging your feet down the wooden hallway, exhaustion weighing on your limbs. your body moved on autopilot, your mind still mildly irritated at the fact that gojo had been missing all damn day.

rounding a corner, you finally spotted him.

there he was, casually strolling toward you like he hadn’t been MIA for hours. still in his uniform, broad shoulders stretching the fabric just enough to make it unfair, his blindfold firmly in place. that same damn smugness clung to him like a second skin, a smirk already forming as he saw you.

you rolled your eyes. “bro.”

his smirk instantly vanished.

“bro?” he repeated, stopping in his tracks like you had just stabbed him in the chest. his brows furrowed beneath his blindfold, his lips pulling into an actual frown.

“bro? seriously?” his voice dripped with disbelief. “what happened to ‘babe’ or ‘love’ or even ‘annoying menace’—but bro?”

you shrugged, enjoying how genuinely offended he sounded. “i call you ‘bro’ one time and you lose your mind?”

his frown deepened. not only was he offended, but he was also deeply wounded by your choice of words. “one time?” he scoffs, crossing his arms defiantly.

“one time?” he repeats, as if the mere thought of using a term of endearment is unfathomable to him. “you literally just called me ‘bro’ and it feels like an insult after everything we went through. i’m the one who gets you coffee in the morning, the one who stays up watching you fall asleep, the one who listens to your rants about your students—and what do i get in return?”

you rolled your eyes, not even bothering to respond as you walked past him, but just to piss him off, you muttered, “bro.”

his jaw dropped.

“again?” he spluttered, spinning around to face you like you had just committed the ultimate betrayal. “again?!” you didn’t stop, didn’t even acknowledge the way he dramatically clutched his chest like he’d been physically wounded. you could feel his glare burning into your back as you kept walking.

“you do realize you’re breaking my heart right now, right?” he mumbled, taking a few large steps after you, trying to keep up with your longer stride.

“my heart!” he continued, his expression turning from annoyance to pure distress. “my poor, fragile, romantic heart is crumbling with every ‘bro’ that escapes your lips.”

you just rolled your eyes again, slowing your pace for a moment to listen to his dramatic whining. his expression grew even more pitiful as he took in your indifference.

“not even a little sympathy? a single ounce of empathy for the pain you're causing me?” the dramatic flair in his voice was undeniable. “i pour my heart into every ‘baby’, ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’ i send your way, and you respond with a cold, emotionless ‘bro’? it’s like you don’t even care.”

you chuckled at his dramatic flair, watching as he took your arms and wrapped them around his waist, effectively trapping you against him. before you could protest, he curled his own arms around your body, pulling you in close.

then, without hesitation, he leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your cheek. “i missed you,” he mumbled, voice softer now, the teasing edge fading just slightly.

you hummed, your fingers absentmindedly grazing over the fabric of his uniform jacket. you tilted your head up, meeting his hidden gaze through his blindfold, lips curling into a smirk.

“really bro?” you asked, your tone teasing, playful.

despite the banter, your touch sent a jolt of electricity through him, and he found himself leaning into your touch, his grip on you tightening.

he rolled his eyes, though the effect was ruined by the way his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink. “oh, for God’s sake, will you stop that?” he huffed, averting his gaze. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

you just chuckled, enjoying every second of having him wrapped around your little finger. “you love it,” you retorted, a sly grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

the pink in his cheeks deepened at your words, the truth in them a bitter pill to swallow. “don’t flatter yourself,” he mumbled, feigning nonchalance. “i just tolerate you, that’s all.”

he tried to sound casual, but his grip on you gave him away—he tightened his hold, his body practically molding against yours like they were two puzzle pieces fitting together.

you frowned, your hands reaching up without hesitation, fingers hooking under the edge of his blindfold. before he could react, you pushed it up over his head, revealing those twinkling blue eyes that always held a mischievous glint.

his gaze met yours, amusement flickering across his features.

and then, without a shred of mercy, you deadpanned—

“bro.”

gojo’s entire expression shattered.

“are you serious right now?” he sputtered, his voice rising in disbelief. “i just— we just— you’re ruining the moment!”

his hands dramatically flew to his chest like you had stabbed him right through the heart. “my love, my darling, my light, and this is how you treat me?”

you just shrugged. “what? it felt appropriate.”

“appropriate?” his voice cracked. “you just looked into my soul and hit me with a ‘bro’ like i’m one of your students?”

his grip on your waist tightened, as if trying to shake the disrespect out of you. “take it back,” he demanded, his lips dangerously close to yours now, his tone low and warning. “right now.”

you tilted your head, pretending to think. “hmm... nah.”

his eye twitched. “alright, that’s it.”

before you could react, he scooped you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing. “bro?!” you gasped, kicking your legs as he started walking.

“oh, now you care?” he scoffed. “too late. you’ve lost boyfriend privileges. i’m not putting you down until you apologize properly.”

#GETO SUGURU

geto was the picture of peace, sitting in the living room with a book in hand, his long fingers idly turning the pages as he sipped his tea. the warm glow of the lamp beside him cast soft shadows over his face, his expression calm and utterly relaxed. it was one of those rare, quiet moments where he could just exist without gojo’s antics or your teasing.

until you ruined it.

without warning, you flopped down beside him, jostling his arm slightly as you leaned in, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“whatchu reading, bro?”

his fingers twitched against the book cover.

his peaceful moment? shattered.

slowly, he turned his head, dark eyes narrowing as he stared at you, unamused. “did you just—”

“bro,” you repeated, grinning as you nuzzled against his shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

geto inhaled sharply through his nose, closing his book with an exaggerated amount of patience. he placed it down on the coffee table beside his tea, his movements slow, deliberate.

“do you have a death wish?” he finally asked, his voice eerily calm.

you hummed, acting like you didn’t hear the warning in his tone. “nah, just curious. what’s got you so focused, bro?”

his eye twitched.

without another word, he reached up and flicked your forehead. not too hard, but enough to make you recoil with a small yelp.

“ow—”

“that’s what you get,” he muttered, picking his book back up. but his lips twitched, betraying the faintest hint of amusement.

you rubbed your forehead with a pout, but instead of leaving, you just leaned against him harder, slumping your full weight onto his side.

“you’re so mean, bro.”

geto let out another long sigh, his shoulders slumping as you leaned your full weight against him, effectively trapping him. he glanced down at you, his expression somewhere between annoyance and resignation.

“i was reading. until a certain pest decided to invade my personal space,” he grumbled, trying to continue reading, his book held awkwardly around you clinging to his arm. he rolled his eyes, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book in his hand. you were like a barnacle, determined to stick to him like glue. “can i not have five minutes of peace without you bothering me?” he grumbled, his irritation clear. he tried to shrug you off, attempting to read his book again, but you just clung to him tighter. you chuckled at his response, clearly unconcerned with his growing irritation. you shifted your position, snuggling closer against his side, your head resting on his shoulder once more.

geto let out a low growl, his hand hovering over his book, momentarily torn between swatting you away and attempting to read. he finally huffed, dropping his book entirely and shooting you a glare. “is there a reason why you’re clinging to me like a barnacle? or do you just enjoy being a nuisance?”

you hummed in response, the vibration of your voice barely muffled against his shoulder. “i miss my bro.” before he could process your words, you tilted your head slightly and pressed a quick, playful kiss against his cheek, the warmth of your lips lingering for just a second before you pulled away with a grin.

geto roll his eyes yet his arm snake around your waist. you quick kiss against his cheek left him momentarily baffled, his brain short-circuiting for a moment. he barely registered his own arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer without his conscious permission.

he tried to scoff, to play it off as a reflex, but the way his fingers tightened slightly around your side betrayed his true thoughts. “you’re insufferable,” he muttered, no real venom in his voice. beneath his irritation, there was a hint of fondness in his eyes as he looked at you, his grip around your waist still firm. he wanted to be annoyed, wanted to push you away and reclaim his personal space, but the feeling of your body pressed against his was oddly comforting while you just gave him your stupidly cute and sweet smile.

he let out a sigh, resigning himself to his fate. “seriously, is being annoying your only personality trait?” he inquired, a hint of dry amusement in his voice. you let out a loud, exaggerated groan, pulling your head away from his shoulder to glare at him. your lips twisted into a pout, eyes narrowing like you were deeply offended by his words. for a moment, you just stared at him in silence, letting the tension build.

then, without warning, you grabbed his face with both hands and aggressively planted a loud, obnoxious kiss on his cheek, making a dramatic smooching sound as you did.

“i love you, bro.”

geto physically flinched. “for the love of—”

before he could fully react, you wrapped your arms tighter around him, pulling him into a death grip that left no room for escape. his book nearly tumbled out of his lap as you all but crushed yourself against him, your head immediately finding its way back to his shoulder. your sudden, dramatic display of affection caught him off guard, leaving him momentarily stunned and barely had a chance to protest.

he tried to maintain some level of composure, but his attempts at irritation were growing weaker. he grumbled under his breath, feigning annoyance as he awkwardly patted your back.

“you are the most insufferable— why are you—” he sputtered, his brain struggling to form a coherent sentence as you held him hostage in your embrace.

#NANAMI KENTO

the sound of sizzling filled the kitchen as you stirred the pan, the rich aroma of dinner wafting through the air. the evening was peaceful, the soft hum of the overhead fan blending with the occasional clatter of kitchen utensils. you had already prepared a small plate of snacks to hold you over until dinner was ready, setting it on the counter absentmindedly.

just as you reached for a seasoning jar, you heard the quiet shuffle of footsteps approaching. the scent of freshly showered skin and warm soap filled the space before a large hand reached over, casually plucking a piece from the snack plate. “you should really eat properly instead of snacking before dinner, love,” nanami remarked, his voice smooth yet firm, though there was a trace of warmth in it.

you turned to look at him, and your eyes landed on the sight before you—nanami standing there in nothing but a pair of loose shorts, his damp hair slightly tousled, a towel draped over his shoulders. the dim kitchen lighting made the water droplets on his skin glisten, emphasizing the sharp lines of his toned physique.

your gaze flickered up to his face, and without much thought, you let out a nonchalant, “bro.”

nanami froze mid-chew.

the air in the kitchen seemed to shift. the man, who always carried himself with unwavering confidence, suddenly looked… unsettled. his brow furrowed slightly, his chewing slowed, and his grip on the towel around his neck unconsciously tightened.

“...what?” he asked, his tone calm, but there was something almost fragile about it.

you turned back to your cooking, oblivious to the internal crisis unraveling beside you. “i said, bro.”

nanami blinked. his heart started to race, a creeping anxiety settling in his chest. his mind spiraled almost immediately—had he done something wrong? were you upset? had he missed something important? no, that couldn't be. just this morning, you had kissed him goodbye, calling him “love” like you always did.

but now? now he was bro?

he swallowed the bite of food, but it suddenly felt dry in his throat. “did… did i do something?” his voice was quieter now, laced with hesitation.

you finally turned to look at him again, noticing the tense way he was holding himself—the crease in his forehead, the slight downturn of his lips. nanami kento, the most unshakable man you knew, looked nervous.

you raised an eyebrow. “huh?”

he exhaled sharply, trying to steady himself. “you always call me something else. sweetheart. darling. love.” he hesitated, then muttered, almost painfully, “but bro?”

your lips twitched. oh. oh, this was gold.

leaning closer, you rested your elbow on the counter, tilting your head at him. “so? what’s wrong with bro, bro?”

nanami visibly flinched.

his jaw clenched, his grip on the towel tightening even further. “please stop.”

you grinned, thoroughly enjoying this rare moment of seeing him slightly rattled. “aw, come on. don’t be dramatic, bro.”

he inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, trying—desperately—to maintain his composure. his ears were faintly red now, and you could practically see the way he was restraining himself from launching into a speech about respect and proper terms of endearment between engaged couples.

finally, after a long pause, he muttered under his breath, “this is worse than gojo.”

that made you burst into laughter.

and despite his suffering, despite the distress in his heart, the sound of your laughter eased some of his tension.

but still—“just call me darling again, please.”

#TOJI FUSHIGURO

the soft glow of the tv flickered across the dimly lit apartment as you lay sprawled on the couch, halfheartedly watching some mind-numbing reality show. the overly dramatic arguments and fake sob stories were more background noise than actual entertainment, but you were too lazy to find something better.

just as you were contemplating whether to switch to another show or accept your fate of watching people embarrass themselves on national television, the door swung open with a casual creak.

toji.

he strolled in like he owned the place, which, to be fair, he acted like he did despite having zero claim to your apartment. his heavy footsteps echoed against the floor as he entered, hands stuffed into the pockets of his dark sweatpants, his hoodie slightly loose over his broad frame. his expression was unreadable—bored, maybe a little mischievous, definitely up to no good.

you barely spared him a glance, lazily tilting your head in his direction. “bro.”

toji stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow. “bro?”

before you could process the look on his face, he moved.

you didn’t even have time to react before all of toji fushiguro—the human brick wall, the walking mountain of muscle, the absolute menace of a man—came crashing down on top of you.

“bro, what the fuck—”

your words were immediately cut off by the sheer weight of him pressing you deeper into the couch, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

“jesus fucking christ—” you wheezed, arms flailing as you struggled under his insane bulk. his entire body was just there, a solid mass of unnecessary muscle crushing you into the cushions. you swore you could feel your ribs creaking.

toji, the absolute asshole that he was, let out a slow, exaggerated sigh, completely relaxing his entire body on top of you, going boneless.

all of his weight. every last pound of him. just sinking onto you.

“toji, get the fuck off!” you gritted out, trying to push against his shoulders. it was like trying to shove a boulder.

he hummed, as if deep in thought. “nah.”

“toji.”

“hm?”

“i can’t fucking breathe, bro.”

“damn. that’s crazy.”

the audacity.

you growled, thrashing as much as you could, but he just chuckled against your hair, zero intention of moving. in fact, the more you struggled, the more he settled in, like he was perfectly content to use your body as his personal mattress.

“y’know,” he mused, arms lazily wrapping around you, “this couch ain’t bad. kinda comfy. but you? even better.”

“you’re a fucking menace.”

he grinned, resting his chin on the top of your head. “yeah, yeah. keep talking, bro.”

you let out a suffering groan, limbs going limp in defeat. this was your life now. “so, whatcha doing?” toji drawled, his voice low and deep in your ear. he hadn’t moved off of you, his weight still pinning you to the couch like a human blanket.

you were too exhausted to protest anymore, your body aching from the pressure. “watching tv,” you grumbled, your voice muffled against his shoulder.

he hummed, the rumble in his chest making your body vibrate. “looks boring,” he muttered, reaching for the remote. with one hand, he flicked through the channels, his other arm still securely around your waist.

you rolled your eyes, too drained to fight him off any longer. he shifted slightly, pressing his head against yours until your cheeks were practically glued together, his warmth seeping into your skin as you two watch the tv.

with a tired sigh, you let yourself sink further into the couch, resigning to your fate. “you’re boring, bro,” you grumbled, voice tinged with playful irritation.

“ah, ah, ah,” he scolded, his breath ghosting over your cheek. “careful, bro, your smart mouth's gonna get you in trouble.”

he didn’t sound particularly menacing, but the slight hint of a warning in his voice was still tangible and you didn’t bother to respond. you could feel him grinning against your cheek, his fingers absently drawing lazy circles over your hip. his broad form practically enveloping yours, his heat seeping into your body and making you feel oddly sleepy.

he had finally found a movie to put on— something stupid that neither of you were really paying attention to. “you’re comfy, bro,” he muttered, his voice low with a slight hint of exhaustion. his hold on you tightened, pulling you just a little bit closer against him.

you grumbled, lifting a weak hand to swat at his arm in protest. “stop calling me bro,” you mumbled, your voice slightly muffled against his cheek.

toji only chuckled, entirely unfazed by your feeble attempt at resistance. “what’s wrong, bro? doesn’t feel so good when it’s thrown back at ya?” he teased, his grip on you tightening as if to make sure you couldn't escape.

you sighed, rolling your eyes but making no real effort to move away. “you’re insufferable.”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, lazily patting your hip. “but you’re still not movin’.”

#RYOMEN SUKUNA

you arrived at sukuna’s apartment after class, kicking the door shut behind you as you dropped your bag carelessly onto the floor. stepping into his dimly lit bedroom, you found him sprawled out on his bed, clad in nothing but a pair of boxers, eyes glued to his phone.

without hesitation, you climbed onto the bed, flopping down beside him and draping yourself over his warm, solid frame. “i miss you, bro. you’re so comfortable,” you sighed dramatically, nuzzling against him like he was a human-sized pillow.

sukuna’s fingers froze mid-scroll. his eye twitched. slowly, he turned his head to glare at you. “what the fuck did you just call me?”

sukuna’s eye twitched again, and his grip on his phone tightened like he was seconds away from crushing it. “bro?” he repeated, his voice flat, dangerously unimpressed. you bit back a grin, fully aware of what you were doing. “yeah, bro,” you said innocently, snuggling in closer, your arms wrapping around his waist. “you’re warm. good for cuddling.”

his nostrils flared. “i am not your bro.”

“you kinda are,” you mused, resting your head against his chest. his skin was hot under your cheek, his heartbeat steady but just a little faster than usual. “bro? really?” sukuna growled under his breath, his annoyance obvious in his tone. but it was difficult for him to stay mad when you were snuggling up against him so comfortably, using his chest as a pillow.

“i swear to god, if i ever hear that word come out of your mouth again, i will murder you,” he threatened, but his hand was already gravitating towards your back, fingers splaying over your spine, tracing a lazy pattern on your skin.

you hummed in response, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers absentmindedly traced up and down his bare stomach, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath your touch.

“bro, you’re mean,” you mumbled, your voice soft with drowsiness.

sukuna let out a sharp exhale, his grip on your waist tightening. “what did i just say?” he muttered, glaring down at you, but his voice lacked any real bite.

your hand continued its slow, lazy movements, your fingertips ghosting over his skin, sending small sparks of warmth through his body. he clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the way his stomach tensed beneath your touch.

“you really testing me today, huh?” he muttered, his fingers pressing into your back just a little harder, like he was debating whether to push you away or pull you closer. you only hummed again, completely unbothered, snuggling in deeper against his chest. “shhh, i’m trying to sleep, bro.”

your hum of contentment barely had time to settle before sukuna moved, his patience snapping like a brittle thread. in a blink, he had you flipped over, your stomach pressed against his thighs, hips raised in the air as his large hand settled firmly on your lower back.

“what the fuck—” you started, twisting to look over your shoulder, only to be met with his wicked grin.

“i warned you.” his voice was slow, deliberate, his palm smoothing over the curve of your hip before trailing down to your thigh. “but you just love pushing your luck, don’t you?”

you swallowed, heat rushing up your neck as you tried to move, but his grip was firm, keeping you exactly where he wanted. his fingers trailed lazily over your skin, a teasing contrast to the sharpness in his tone.

“say ‘bro’ one more time.” sukuna dared, voice dripping with amusement as he leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “see what happens.” your breath caught in your throat as he spoke, a thrill shooting down your spine as you felt the weight of his body over yours. his fingers continued their slow, taunting path over your thigh, inching higher with an excruciating slowness.

“are you gonna behave now?” sukuna’s voice was a low, rough purr, his breath warm against your neck. his fingers were just barely ghosting over your skin now, so close to the edge of your skirt you thought you’d go insane. “or are you gonna keep being a smartass?” his hand suddenly grabbed your chin, tilting your head back to look at him.

you huffed dramatically, rolling your eyes even as heat burned at the back of your neck. “it’s just ‘bro,’” you grumbled, shifting slightly against his lap.

his grip on your chin tightened, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to make your breath hitch. his eyes darkened, amusement flickering through the crimson depths as his smirk stretched wider. “just ‘bro,’ huh?” he echoed, tilting his head like he was truly considering your words.

then, without warning, he flip your skirt up and his palm came down on your ass—a sharp, stinging slap that had you jolting forward against his thighs.

“wanna say that again?” sukuna drawled, his hand lazily rubbing over the spot he just smacked, his touch infuriatingly gentle in contrast. “or do i need to remind you how to address me properly?”

sukuna chuckled as your hips rocked back reflexively from the sting. he knew exactly how to push your buttons, and the way you squirmed in his lap, cheeks flushed and eyes wide, was like catnip to him.

he ran his palm slowly over the spot again, his fingers trailing over the skin just under the hem of your boxers. “you know,” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement, “i’ve gotten pretty good at teaching lessons lately.”

his other hand moved to your hip, gripping you tightly as he continued speaking. “think you could learn how to behave if i gave you a few more lessons?” he finished, his hand sliding lower, fingers tracing the seam of your boxers. his touch was almost tentative, a stark contrast to the rough treatment from before, and it left your breath hitching, your heart thumping almost painfully.

his grip tightened as you squirmed again, his fingers digging into your hip in a silent warning to keep still. his knee shifted, nudging between your legs, pressing your thighs against his. he was so close to your core, his breath warm and steady against your exposed ear.

“maybe i should be less gentle,” sukuna murmured, his lips right at your ear. “you’re not taking my lesson very seriously.”

his hand came down again, another sharp slap against your skin. not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to make you gasp.

[rafeovermorals]

YOUR OLD NEIGHBOR JOEL who becomes your personal handyman.. always fixing things around the house for you. something broken? you bring it to him and he’ll take care of it.

he teased you at first. “no boyfriend to do this?” he questioned in his usual nonchalant, grumpy tone.. but when you replied that you were single, you saw his lips tug into a smirk.

after a while you didn’t have to ask anymore. joel came over on his own accord just to find things to repair, it made him feel useful that way.

he warmed up to you over time. “it’s no problem, darlin’. not like i got much else to do these days.” you always offered him a cup of coffee as a thank you, which he accepted.

you would help him too. he was skilled with his hands, but electronics were a different story. when he finally upgraded from his flip phone, he didn’t have a clue in the world on what to do with it. “not my generation.” he grumbled, clearly struggling to figure it out.

he was too embarrassed to ask. “let me do it for you, old man.” you teased with a giggle, snatching the device from him. you got everything ready to go— going the extra mile to downloaded tinder and offering to set up a profile for him.. even though he swore he’d never use it.

you added your number to joel’s contacts. it was the only number, actually. he texted like a dad, responding to your texts with a flat “sure.” or “no.” until you taught him what emojis were, then he sometimes used the thumbs up or a heart.

he gave in one day, deciding to try out the dating apps. his profile was simple— classic joel. nothing really special about it.. except that all of the pictures he had were taken by you.

he scrolled through, pressing ‘x’ on each women that was prompted to him. he was ready to delete it all together.. but a familiar face popped up. you.

your profile was unlike anything he’d seen from the others. you stood out from the rest, of course you did. he swiped back and forth between your pictures.. his cock stirring in his pants at the sight of one with you in a bikini. you were alluring, a seductive smile that was bound to attract endless messages.

he felt dirty for staring too long. it was wrong, yet he couldn’t get himself to look away. why were you on there, anyway? a pretty girl like you had no business searching for love on this app full of perverted, lonely men like himself. even if so.. why would it show your account to him when he’s three times your age? he knew for a fact that the user had choice in what range they were interested in— you told him that.

the thought stuck with him. those flirty remarks, sneaking glances, and lingering touches clicked in his mind. before he could regret it, he pressed the ‘✓’ beside your name with a hold of his breath.

YOU HAVE A MATCH!

quick drabble because this picture posted today sent me into an old handyman!joel spiral. i’ve seen a few neighbor/fixer upper fics, but i want to link inspo to this one as it is one of my favorite reads on here!

[iris-qt]

physical affection

& how the slytherin boys show it

I. MATTHEO RIDDLE

Mattheo Riddle showed love the way he did everything: loud, unapologetic, and impossible to ignore.

“Pumpkin Pookie Pie!” His booming voice rang through the corridor as you buried your face in your hands. He’d been calling you that for weeks, his new favorite way to get under your skin.

Before you could respond, his arm slung around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “What’s wrong? Too shy to admit you love it?” he teased, his grin wicked.

“Too mortified to acknowledge your existence,” you shot back, trying to wriggle free.

He only held on tighter. “Oh no, you’re stuck with me now,” he said, steering you down the hall as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Later that day, you found him perched on the edge of your study table in the library, nudging your quill off balance with his finger.

“Mattheo,” you hissed, grabbing it before it rolled onto the floor. “Some of us are trying to pass.”

“Pass? You’ll ace it,” he said confidently, leaning closer until his face was inches from yours. “I mean, you’ve got me, don’t you?”

“You’re a distraction.”

“And yet,” he quipped, flicking your nose, “you’re smiling.”

You were. Begrudgingly.

Then there were the bear hugs. Merlin, the bear hugs. Mattheo had an uncanny talent for sensing when you were stressed, usually followed by him swooping in and pulling you into a hug that could rival a skull-crushing bludger.

One evening, as you stared blankly at your parchment, trying and failing to organize your thoughts, he came up behind you. Without warning, his arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you clean off your chair.

“Mattheo!” you yelped, flailing.

“Shh,” he said, spinning you around. “This is a medical intervention. You were looking far too tense.”

By the time he set you back down, your frustration had melted into laughter, your cheeks warm as you leaned back into his arms for a moment longer than you’d care to admit.

But there were other moments, too. Quieter ones, where his teasing gave way to something softer.

The common room was nearly empty when he found you curled up on the couch, a book in your lap but your eyes distant. Wordlessly, he sank down beside you, close enough that your knees touched.

You expected a quip or a joke, but instead, his hand reached out, finding yours where it rested on the page. His fingers laced through yours, his thumb brushing slow, lazy circles over your knuckles.

The playful grin he always wore was gone, replaced by something calmer. “You’re too brilliant to stress like this,” he murmured, his voice low.

For once, you didn’t argue. His hand in yours felt grounding, his words a quiet reassurance..

II. THEODORE NOTT

Theodore Nott didn’t need grand gestures to show he cared. He was subtle, deliberate, and always knew exactly what you needed without a single word.

Like now, as you struggled to balance a precarious stack of books in the library. “Need a hand?” he asked casually, appearing out of nowhere.

“I’ve got it,” you huffed, shifting the stack.

“You mean, you’re about to drop it,” he corrected, plucking the books from your arms with ease.

“Show off,” you muttered, but the corners of your mouth twitched.

He gave you a small, amused smile as he set the books down on your table. Then, without a word, he reached forward to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face, tucking it gently behind your ear.

“Better,” he murmured before sitting down across from you. It was so casual, so effortless, but your heart still skipped a beat.

Later, in the Great Hall, it was his hand on your lower back guiding you through the bustling crowd of students. It wasn’t pushy or overbearing, it was just enough to let you know he was there, steady and constant.

“Theo, I’m not made of glass” you teased as you sat down, and he leaned against the table beside you.

“No, but you’re terrible at dodging elbows,” he quipped, nodding toward the chaos of the lunch line.

He was right, of course. He always was.

And then there were the little things he did that were so infuriatingly him.

Like the time he stole your quill mid-essay. “Theo!” you snapped, glaring at him.

“You’ve been using it wrong,” he said nonchalantly, twirling it between his fingers like a wand duelist showing off.

“How can you use a quill wrong?”

“You can. You’ve been gripping it like you’re stabbing someone. Here.” He handed it back, his fingers brushing yours for just a second longer than necessary. “Relax your grip, or you’ll snap the nib.”

“You’re insufferable,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help noticing how much smoother your writing felt afterward.

And then, on a rainy afternoon when you were both sprawled in the common room, you’d been flipping through a book while Theo quietly worked on an Arithmancy chart. Without looking up, he reached out and nudged a mug of tea toward you.

“You’re looking a little pathetic,” he said, his tone completely deadpan.

“Thanks, Theo,” you said dryly, but you took the tea anyway, smiling softly as you sipped it.

It wasn’t until you glanced over later that you noticed his gaze lingering on you, a rare warmth in his usually calm expression.

“What?” you asked, raising a brow.

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Nothing.”

But as his hand reached out to brush against yours once again, you realized that with Theo, even the smallest touch felt like the loudest declaration.

III. LORENZO BERKSHIRE

Lorenzo Berkshire loved quietly and warmly, his affection woven into the small, steady ways he touched you.

Like the way he always grabbed your hand without thinking, his fingers threading through yours as naturally as breathing. It didn’t matter where you were: in the middle of a crowded corridor, walking to Hogsmeade, or, as it happened today, dodging Peeves’ latest chaotic masterpiece of enchanted water balloons.

“Quick!” Lorenzo yanked you behind a suit of armor, his hand gripping yours firmly as water splashed past.

“You could’ve warned me sooner!” you hissed, clutching your soaked sleeve.

“I did warn you,” he said innocently, his grin betraying no remorse. He squeezed your hand before letting go to wring out his own robe. “Besides, you’re lucky I’m here. Imagine if Peeves got you while you were alone.”

“Yeah, I’d never survive without you,” you deadpanned, earning a soft chuckle.

Then there were his hugs: warm, steady, and impossible to resist.

One afternoon, you’d been pacing in the common room, ranting about something ridiculous Professor Snape had said in Potions. Lorenzo was sitting on the couch, watching you with a quiet amusement, until you threw your hands in the air in frustration.

“Am I wrong, though?” you demanded.

Instead of answering, he stood, stepped forward, and pulled you into a hug. It was so sudden, you froze.

“Lorenzo, what are you---”

“Shh,” he murmured, his arms snug around you. “You’re spiraling. Just… stop pacing and let me hold you for a second.”

For a moment, you considered pushing him away, purely out of principle. But his embrace was so warm, so comforting, that you found yourself leaning into it instead.

“You’re impossible,” you muttered against his shoulder.

“And you’re adorable when you’re annoyed,” he said, his voice muffled but teasing.

Then there were the casual touches that seemed second nature to him, like the way he always rested a hand on your shoulder when he leaned down to read over your notes.

“Did you mean to write ‘infusion’ here?” he asked once, pointing to your parchment.

“Yes, Enzo,” you said, your tone mockingly patient. “That’s exactly what I meant to write.”

“Good. Just checking.” He gave your shoulder a quick squeeze before walking off, as if correcting your work was the most normal thing in the world.

But perhaps the most Lorenzo thing he did was during Quidditch practice. You’d shown up to watch, cheering loudly enough to embarrass him in front of the whole team.

After practice, he jogged over, damp and out of breath, and pulled you into a sweaty, enthusiastic hug.

“Lorenzo!” you shrieked, trying to push him off.

“Just sharing the victory,” he said with a grin, tightening his grip.

“Victory? You missed three goals!”

“Details,” he said, leaning back just enough to grin at you. “Besides, I know you secretly love this.”

And as much as you complained, he wasn’t entirely wrong. Because with Lorenzo, every touch, whether it was a hand in yours, a shoulder squeeze, or a hug that left you blushing, felt like home.

IV. DRACO MALFOY

Draco Malfoy had a way of turning even the simplest gestures of affection into acts of grandeur.

“Y/N,” he drawled, stepping into the courtyard where you were waiting. “Your scarf is a disaster.”

You looked down, confused. “It’s just a scarf, Draco.”

“It’s an offense to fashion,” he corrected, already closing the distance between you. Before you could stop him, his gloved hands were carefully unwinding the scarf from your neck.

“Draco, it’s cold!”

“Shh.” He ignored your protest, methodically rewrapping it, each fold placed with the utmost precision. “If you insist on walking around like this, the least I can do is ensure you don’t embarrass me.”

Once he finished, he stepped back, inspecting his work like a proud artist. “There. Better.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, though you had to admit the scarf did feel warmer.

Later, during a stroll to Hogsmeade, he offered his arm with a flourish.

“Draco, we’re not at a ball,” you said, raising an eyebrow.

“And yet,” he said, his tone prim, “you look like you might trip over the cobblestones at any moment. I’m merely preventing a tragedy.”

You rolled your eyes but slipped your arm through his anyway. He gave a satisfied smirk, his fingers resting lightly over yours.

Then there were the smaller gestures, the ones you weren’t entirely sure were affectionate or just Draco being Draco.

Like the time he spotted a speck of dust on your robe during dinner.

“Hold still,” he said sharply, brushing it off with the utmost seriousness.

“Draco, it’s barely visible---”

“Barely visible isn’t invisible,” he cut in, flicking the imaginary lint away with a look of triumph. “You’re welcome.”

Sometimes, his gestures were less about precision and more about necessity. During a Quidditch match, the wind had ripped your hair tie loose, leaving your hair whipping into your face. Draco, seated beside you, sighed audibly before pulling out a spare ribbon from his pocket.

“You carry ribbons?” you asked, bewildered.

“Of course not,” he said, already tying it into place with practiced ease. “Mother always says to be prepared for emergencies. Apparently, this qualifies.”

“Does it?”

“Obviously,” he said, brushing a stray strand out of your face. “Imagine how ridiculous you looked before I fixed it.”

You stared at him, torn between laughing and being annoyed. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re lucky I am,” he replied smugly, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary.

Whether it was adjusting your scarf or offering his arm, Draco's gestures always came with a quiet, meaningful undertone: he cared more than he’d ever admit.

V. BLAISE ZABINI

Blaise Zabini’s affection was effortless, delivered with the same smooth confidence he carried everywhere he went.

Take, for example, the way his hand always found your thigh when you sat next to him. It didn’t matter if it was in the library, the common room, or even during a particularly dull History of Magic lecture. His hand would settle there, light and casual, like it belonged.

“Are you even paying attention?” you whispered once, glancing at him while Professor Binns droned on about goblin rebellions.

“Not really,” he said, smirking as his fingers tapped absentmindedly against your leg. “But you are, and that’s far more interesting.”

His casual touches extended to the little things, too. Like the time you’d been sitting together at breakfast, distractedly spreading jam on your toast while skimming your notes. Blaise had leaned over, taken the knife from your hand, and spread the jam evenly in one smooth motion.

“You were going to ruin it,” he said simply, setting the toast back on your plate.

“It’s toast, Blaise,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Precisely. There’s no excuse for sloppy toast,” he replied, his lips quirking into a half smile as he rested his elbow on the table and leaned closer.

He was equally casual about his protectiveness. When you walked into the common room one night, balancing a stack of books, Blaise, who was lounging on the couch, arched a brow.

“Drop one of those, and I’ll laugh,” he said lazily, though he was already standing.

“You’re so helpful,” you said sarcastically.

But before you could move, he reached out, took the books from your arms, and placed them on the nearest table. His hand brushed your back as he passed, light and deliberate. “There. Now you don’t have to make a spectacle of yourself.”

Even in the rare moments when you were annoyed with him, his touch had a way of disarming you.

Once, after an argument about which Quidditch team was better, you’d crossed your arms and turned away from him. Blaise, unbothered, leaned back against the couch and stretched his arm along the backrest until his fingers lazily grazed your shoulder.

“You’re mad,” he observed, his voice amused.

“No, I’m---” You stopped mid-sentence as he lightly trailed his fingers down your arm. It wasn’t much, just enough to make you shiver and forget whatever comeback you’d been forming.

“Hmm?” he prompted, his smirk growing.

“Nothing,” you muttered, glancing away, which only made him chuckle softly.

VI. REGULUS BLACK

Regulus Black wasn’t one for grand gestures. His affection was quiet, almost imperceptible to anyone who wasn’t paying attention. But you always noticed.

It was in the way his fingers would brush against yours as you walked side by side through the castle corridors, his hand lingering just long enough to send a silent, unspoken message.

“Regulus,” you teased once, glancing down at where his hand hovered near yours. “You can hold my hand, you know. I won’t bite.”

He huffed softly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I wasn’t going to.”

“Sure you weren’t,” you replied, your voice laced with amusement. But before you could say anything else, his fingers laced with yours, quick, almost shy, but steady.

In the common room, when you were bent over a pile of parchments, furiously scribbling down notes, he would sometimes come up behind you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder.

“You’ve been at this for hours,” he said one evening, his voice low and steady.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, not looking up.

He didn’t argue. Instead, his thumb brushed against the fabric of your robes, a small, grounding gesture. “Just don’t forget to breathe,” he said softly before slipping away, leaving behind the faint warmth of his touch.

And then there were the moments that caught you off guard, like when you’d been lost in thought by the Black Lake, the chilly wind tugging at your cloak. Regulus appeared beside you silently, slipping his scarf from around his neck and draping it over your shoulders without a word.

“You’ll freeze,” you protested, clutching the soft wool.

“I’ll survive,” he replied, his tone so matter-of-fact it made you smile. He didn’t move to take the scarf back, though he did stand close enough that his arm brushed yours.

And then one evening in the library, you were both pouring over ancient texts for a Potions essay, the quiet hum of the room interrupted only by the scratch of quills. Without looking up, he reached over and adjusted the candle near your book, tilting it so the light fell more evenly across the pages.

“Thanks,” you said softly, glancing at him.

He shrugged, not meeting your gaze, but the faintest hint of a smile played on his lips.

VII. TOM RIDDLE

Tom Riddle’s affection was as precise and calculated as everything else he did.

You were pacing the length of the common room, muttering under your breath as you reviewed your notes for the tenth time that evening. Tom, seated in his usual armchair, watched you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice calm but firm, “you’re going to wear a hole in the carpet.”

“I can’t help it,” you replied, not stopping. “I need to make sure I’ve got everything memorized.”

Before you could pass him again, he stood, closing the distance between you in two measured strides. Gently but decisively, he cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Stop,” he commanded, his tone low but unyielding. His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones, a gesture that was oddly soothing despite the intensity of his stare. “You’re better than this frantic display. Calm your mind.”

For a moment, all you could do was blink up at him, the warmth of his hands grounding you in a way that words never could.

“Better?” he asked, his dark eyes searching yours.

“Better,” you admitted, your voice softer now.

He stepped back, letting his hands fall to his sides, though he lingered close enough that the heat of his presence remained.

There were other moments like this, too, where his touch was both a command and a reassurance.

Like the time he found you struggling to reach a book in the library. Without a word, he appeared behind you, effortlessly plucking the book from the shelf and handing it to you. When you opened your mouth to thank him, he tilted your chin up with a single finger, his expression unreadable.

“You shouldn’t have to struggle,” he said simply, his voice barely above a whisper.

Or the time you were arguing with him over something trivial (probably his refusal to let anyone but himself tutor you).

“You’re insufferable,” you’d snapped, crossing your arms.

“And you’re too intelligent to waste time bickering with me,” he replied smoothly. Before you could fire back, he placed his hands on your shoulders, his grip firm but not unkind. “Now, sit down and let me help you. You’ll thank me later.”

Despite the commanding edge to his touch, there was something deeply reassuring about it. A promise, unspoken but felt in every deliberate move.

Because with Tom, every gesture carried the same message: You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget it.

A/N: SURPRISEEE just temporarily back bc i missed writing and I missed you guys

Taglist (for those who asked to be tagged in everything) = @smut-anarchy, @marikajhaha, @nottinmyheart, @hzdhrtss, @babene-e

love u guys

[ccazimi]

cw: crack, fluff, smut, dubcon, panty sniffing/stealing, scent kink, etc. (he's literally part animal what do you expect)

tiger hybrid!sukuna who's prissy and sassy, much like an actual housecat. picky about everything, from the temperature and consistency of his food to the way his water tastes to what a light sleeper he is. sometimes you talk to him, and if he doesn't feel like responding, he literally won't even turn his head to you - all you'll get is an annoyed flick of his ear to tell you that he does hear you, he's just actively choosing to ignore you.

tiger hybrid!sukuna who has a serious issue with boundaries. he's allowed to ignore you if he feels like it, but you dare try and do the same thing back? unacceptable. will be extremely miffed if your attention isn't on him at all times. yes, even when he actively acts like he doesn't want it.

not to mention you need to deal with him literally getting offended at the fact that you wear clothes around him even though "it's just you two in the house" and on more than one occasion will you be absolutely mortified when you find he’s been stealing your dirty panties- he, of course, doesn’t get the big deal.

oh, you thought that was bad? wait till you find that he insists that you sleep naked with him, and your nightly ritual includes him not only licking you clean (at least your face and neck) but sniffing down your entire body. yes, the entire thing. the part where he gets to your pussy is the worst for you, and the best for him. and whenever he gets down between your thighs to smell you, he makes this weird face almost automatically, with his lips pulled back to show off those fangs and mouth a bit open somewhere between a snarl and a smirk, like he’s trying to taste the scent

tiger hybrid!sukuna who has a special vomeronasal organ at the roof of his mouth that can pick up pheromones—and that weird thing he does, when he opens his mouth while sniffing your pussy? yeah, that’s him drawing the scent in deeper, some focused, instinctual decoding process of your sexual health

"you're ovulating, probably peaked this morning. also you're kinda stressed...maybe you need to sleep more," he graciously informs you of his findings between your spread thighs. "oh and your pH is a little off. maybe skip that stupid new soap you got next time."

he looks up at you expectantly—clearly waiting for your gratitude. and you know he won’t finish this whole ridiculous routine until you sigh and say, flat as ever, "thanks for that. can we sleep now?"

"you've got two days left if you're trying to get pregnant, by the way."

you shoot him something between a glare and a grimace.

tiger hybrid!sukuna can pick up everything, but there are two times of the month when he can pick up those smells even with just his normal nostrils. the first one -obviously- is when you’re ovulating. but the only thing worse than the scent of you ovulating, is the smell that envelops you right before you get your period. “worse” in the sense that it drives him completely insane. sweet, cloyingly thick, warm. in fact he blames you for tempting him. you'll be innocently doing the dishes or something when suddenly it's too much for him and he pounces on you from behind, wrapping his arms around you to keep you in place, claws instinctively pushing out to dig into your skin so tight it hurts.

of course you panic, squirming as he begins rutting into the curve of your ass, his cock quickly swelling up till it's very noticeable. and the scent of him that becomes so much stronger when he's...excited like this - warm, musky, all iron and spice, wrapping around you.

"sukuna- let me- go!" you try as you struggle in his grasp, but it's too late he's too far gone, just mindlessly grunting and growling as he chases his release, too desperate to even fuck you properly. "almost there, just a bit more," he pants, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply. "it's your fault anyway, walking around like -hah- i can't smell your pussy fucking begging for me." and right as you're about to splash some cold water on him, you hear him groan filthy, and guttural, as he finishes in his pants just from grinding against you.

and that's when he finally comes to his senses, trying to retract his claws to let go of you. unfortunately they get stuck in the fabric of your clothing, and he just panics making them get even more tangled while you yell at him to stop moving so that you can unhook his claws. finally you turn with your arms crossed, giving him the coldest, and most stern look of all time. he stares at you guiltily, a large wet patch forming on the crotch of his pants where his cum seeps through.

it's not his fault -not exactly- like any good hybrid he needs to be trained, and soon enough you've corrected that little problem of his (mostly)

tiger hybrid!sukuna is intensely territorial, especially when it comes to you. so when you come home smelling even faintly like another man? he’s agitated to no end — not even jealous, exactly, he just feels like it’s wrong. soon after come several arguments his way about “how he can’t piss around your house to mark his territory” or about how “it’s completely unacceptable to leave long clawed scratch marks on the walls or furniture”

tiger hybrid!sukuna who simply cannot keep his hands off you when you're on your period. this time he doesn't touch you (too much) without your permission, but he will beg you incessantly till you finally give in. and that's how you end up with your clothes shredded, and him biting and sucking every inch of your body hungrily as he makes his way down, tail wrapping possessively around you to keep you in place

tiger hybrid!sukuna with long sharp fangs that make his kisses hurt just a little, especially when gets too excited and nips your skin, drawing just a bit of blood that he happily licks up. he loves when they scar a bit too, just so that you’re marked as his.

tiger hybrid!sukuna with rough, spiked papillae on his tongue meant for cleaning raw flesh off bone that are now scraping against the bud of your stiff nipple. you gasp and writhe, and he knows he can't lick you nipples too much (as much he wants to) or it'll really start to hurt.

tiger hybrid!sukuna eats you out like he eats wild prey, teeth just shy of nipping your clit as he laps at your cunt. and of course the rough sandpaper texture of his tongue against your swollen nub feels like nothing else - a bit painful, borderline overstimulating, but so good at the same time. but just like with your nipples he has to be carefully so he doesn't seriously hurt you down there.

tiger hybrid!sukuna who just can't help himself from pinning your thighs open almost painfully as you cum, just to stick his tongue inside your hole and finally taste the leaking sweetness that's been teasing him for days. even when you're done, he continues to lick your pussy gently, almost affectionately. you squirm a little from the slight overstimulation but just let him do his thing as he laps your folds clean, deep purrs rumbling from inside his chest as he does so

[dokyumms]

seventeen's reaction to you overworking yourself (hyung line) !

pairings: hyung line x reader (find maknae ver. here)

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 1.6k

cw: light cursing, overworking, fatigue, fainting

a/n: i had to cut this in half since it was getting too long and i wanted to make sure i posted today! i have NO idea why i made seungcheol's so long lmao. hope you enjoy kings ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ also, i will be closing my requests so i can catch up on them over the weekend, i'll try to get them done by monday! thank you for all the support, it means so much to me ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

seungcheol - seungcheol is livid. you're still at your second part-time job when seungcheol calls you, "send me your location, y/n." you didn't tell seungcheol you had taken on a second job. you've never been comfortable with money, always having to work multiple jobs to stay afloat. that was until you met seungcheol, and since then he's always taken care of your expenses, even offering to pay for part of your tuition, and you decided it was enough. you didn't want for your (millionaire) boyfriend to think you were using him, so you told him you took on some evening classes.

today, you're covering someone else's shift. originally, you weren't going to, but after their promise of sending you a little extra money for it, you accepted.

"cheol, i told you i'm-"

"at class still? don't bullshit me, y/n. you didn't take on any new classes, you left your paper schedule on the counter."

your stomach drops. ah hell, you must be stupid. "y/n, what are you really doing?" he asks, almost pleading. there's absolutely no fighting it at that point, "i'm... at work. shift just ended, i'll send you my location." in defeat, you sit on a barstool at the restaurant and wait for seungcheol.

when he walks in, his eyes are immediately on you, walking over and grabbing your hand. "let's go," is all he says. the car ride is silent with tension; he only asks about it once you two are both home. "why? y/n there's no reason for you to be working another job. i'm right here; if you needed financial help, i could've helped you." he says gently, trying to maintain his frustration, but his brows are furrowed, exposing his true emotions.

"that's just the thing seungcheol, you're always here to help me. i don't want to use you because i can't support myself." you reason, but seungcheol obviously isn't buying it. "y/n, you're not using me, even if you did i wouldn't care. i don't want to watch you struggle when i know i can help." he takes your hand into his own. "don't do this to yourself, please. i love you too much to let this keep going." looks like you're quitting that job.

jeonghan - you and jeonghan are walking home from your date night. it's supposed to be romantic, you two walking hand in hand, but you're feeling the weight of the all nighters you've been pulling all week to finish your project, walking wobbily on the side walk.

"did you drink or something? you're walking a little funny babe." jeonghan teases before giving you a genuine look of concern. you try to laugh it off, "hah, maybe." but then your eyes start to droop ever so slowly. jeonghan notices, "have you been sleeping?" damn. did your concealer wear off or something? you're about to respond, but your legs give out and jeonghan catches you before everything goes dark.

you wake up on the couch, tucked in with a blanket with jeonghan caressing your forehead lovingly. "so i'm guessing the answer to my question is no," jeonghan murmurs, giggiling. "but seriously y/n- don't scare me like that," he adds. "i know i know, sorry-" you say, trying to sit up, but jeonghan interupts. "i don't think so, you need to rest baby," he gently pushes you back down before joining you on the couch. "we'll talk about this seriously later, let's just sleep for now." wrapping his arms around you, leaving you no choice but to comply.

joshua - joshua wants to trust you, knowing that you're fully capable of taking care of yourself, but he can't help but worry when he looks over at you. you've been sitting at your desk for hours now, trying to finish all your assignments before the end of the grading period.

he walks over, putting his hands on your shoulders and massaging them. "you've been working for a bit, love. how about a break?" he suggests. you turn around, giving him a small smile, "i really would shua, but i've got like 2 hours till this is due. just let me finish this and i'll take a break." he frowns, "you promise?" "i promise," he hums in response, giving you a quick peck on the cheek before retreating to whatever he was doing.

2 hours later, joshua is back at your desk, only to find you slumped over your papers. he sighs, shaking his head before taking a look at your laptop. "hm, looks like you made the deadline," he says softly, gently shaking you awake.

"you did it, love. i'm proud of you, but i don't want you doing this often- it makes me worried." he murmurs, "come on, you need to take your well deserved break in a more comfortable space," taking your hand and guiding you to your room.

jun - honestly he gets it, between his singing and acting career, he knows what it's like to always feel like you're on the clock. he still doesn't approve of this though.

you just got home from working over time, it's 11:35- you both should be asleep, but he's waiting for you on the couch. looking at you, his heart breaks, noticing the eyebags, the bad posture, the way you're barely holding onto your bag, all of it. he makes his way over to you.

"oh, y/n," you don't process what's happening, about 30 seconds from fall asleep as he holds you. taking your bag from your hand, he then ushers you toward the couch. he helps you take off your jacket and shoes.

"do you want something to eat? water?" he asks while laying you down. you shake your head, but he still hands you a waterbottle anyway. "i'm always scared when you're like this bǎo bèi," he comments softly. "please take care of yourself, but if you can't, i'll be here." he gives you a kiss before laying your head down, falling asleep almost immediately.

hoshi - hoshi is nothing short of assertive, literally showing up to your job. "soonyoung, what are you-" "do you know what time it is? i'm taking you home." he leaves no room for argument as he drags you out of your work place. you're going to need to explain this to your manager.

"i'm not letting you do this to yourself, y/n. it's late. why are you still trying to work at this hour?" he asks, frustrated. "soonyoung, you know why. i don't have a roommate anymore; i can't pay rent with one income." he sighs, "i know, but you just look so- i don't know- tired now. i can help y/n, just let me."

there's no talking your way out of this, you just let him drag you all the way back to your apartment while rambling about how bad working late could be for your health: what if someone kidnaps you on the way home? what if you faint while you're walking up the stairs because you're so tired? what if you're so sleepy you don't notice someone walking by and you run into them and fall into a storm drain?

wonwoo - he doesn't scold you, but he'll get all nerdy and tell you terrible facts about not taking care of yourself.

you're bent over your laptop, trying to finish a whole group project on your own since you got assigned terrible partners. he sits down besides you, whispering in your ear, "keep sitting like that, and you won't be able to walk properly at 40," you scoff, but adjust your posture anyway, you don't want to test this guy. smiling in victory, he kisses you before walking away, reminding you to take a break.

you don't listen to him though, getting carried away in your work. wonwoo comes back every so often to tell you that your brain will start eating itself because you haven't eaten, you'll get terrible wrinkles because you're dehydrated, all that stuff.

once you're finally done and in bed, he scolds you, of course. "i know you think i'm joking, but i'm not y/n. this isn't good for you, next time you do this, i'm forcing you to stop, okay?" he strokes your hair and gives you a kiss. "i love you a lot, so take good care of yourself, can't have you dying on me."

woozi - out of all the members, he's definitely the one who relates to you the most. he knows you'll drown out the sound of people telling you to take breaks, so he takes things into his own hands.

you're working at your desk when woozi turns your chair around and grabs your hand, dragging you to the couch. you try to argue, you really need to finish this so your group doesn't fall behind on the project, but he doesn't take no for an answer.

"shush y/n, just let me talk." he starts, "i know what it's like, i really do. you feel like everyone is depending on you, and maybe they are, but you don't have to do it all alone," when you try to dismiss him and get back to work, he's actually pinning you to the couch. in any other circumstance, you'd be turned the hell on... but he's serious about this. "listen, stop trying to shut me out y/n. i'm someone you can rely on, and i want you to. don't do this to yourself, i won't let you."

you nod in agreement. "good, now let's just stay here for a second," he lays on top of you, trapping you under him so there's nothing you can do but rest.

[cowboybeepboop]

Perfection

 "I'll have to try even harder next time then. Can't have you downgrading me to just 'good' after all.”

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x fem! Reader 

Genre: smut

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: You’re Sergei’s closest (and only) friend, one night things become more than just friendly.

a/n: as always send any request you have my way! I’ll get to them asap 

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the foliage above, you felt an eerie presence nearby. Glancing over your shoulder, you caught a flicker of movement among the trees. It was Sergei, his eyes gleaming with curiosity. 

You'd found him in this very forest when he had first left home, and now, years later, he remained a silent guardian. 

Sergei stood amidst the shadows of the forest, his form blending seamlessly with the surrounding foliage. His gaze lingered on you, studying your every detail. The familiar scent of the forest and your presence filled his senses, stirring a mix of nostalgia and concern within him.

"You've been here a while," he observed, his voice a low rumble. "Looking for something?"

"Just watching," you murmur, standing as he approaches your side. you brush your hands over your jeans, grinning as you look up at him. 

Sergei, towering above you, stands close enough that you can almost feel the heat radiating from his body. His eyes study your every movement, taking in the way your hands brush over your jeans. A faint smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth.

"Watching, eh?" he remarks, his voice a low rumble that seems to resonate through the forest around you. "Find anything interesting?"

"Not particularly, well at least not before you showed up," you observe his strong features in the sunlight, hands aching to touch him.

Sergei's smirk widens as he notices the way your eyes roam over his features, taking in the play of sunlight on his chiseled face. He can feel the subtle tension rising between you, a familiar pull that has always been there.

"Is that right?" he responds in a low, amused tone. "So, I'm more interesting than the scenery then?"

"But of course," you glance around, "the forest doesn't exactly talk back, does it?" 

Sergei's lips quirk into a crooked smile as he considers your retort. His eyes follow the movement of your gaze, taking in the peaceful surroundings.

"True, the forest is a silent spectator." he muses, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "But I happen to be a little more engaging than a few trees and squirrels."

Then, his tone shifts slightly, a touch more commanding yet laced with an underlying softness. "You should join me for dinner. It's late, and I doubt you've eaten anything substantial."

"What's on the menu?" you grin, linking your arm with his as he begins to guide you to his home.

As you link your arm with his, Sergei lets out a chuckle at your question. It was never a struggle to get you to come along when food was involved.

"Nothing fancy, just a simple meal," he replies, his hand instinctively resting on top of yours as he guides you through the trail he and his family had made years before. "Some stew from a rabbit I caught earlier, fresh bread, and maybe a few berries if I can find any."

"Sounds perfect, Sergei." you lean your head against his shoulder, enjoying the heat that's radiating off of him. 

As your head rests on his shoulder, Sergei glances down at you, a warm smile playing on his lips. The familiarity of your touch and the way you lean into him stirs emotions within him. He'd always been protective of you, seeing you as someone he needed to keep safe.

He continues to guide you along the path, the sound of nocturnal creatures filling the night air. "You're quiet tonight," he notes, his voice gentle. "Everything alright?"

Your eyes widen as he catches on to your distracted mind, thoughts filled with the idea of being in his home and surrounded by his scent rather than making conversations. "Of course..." you murmur, "Just a little.. preoccupied." you grin up at him 

Sergei narrows his eyes slightly, a mix of concern and curiosity in his gaze. Your vague answer and the hint of a grin on your face pique his interest, making him even more curious.

"Preoccupied, hm?" he muses, a hint of humor in his voice. "With what exactly?" His arm tightens its hold on you, pulling you closer as if to physically keep you from drifting away in thought.

"That's a secret," you retort, eyes glued on the building ahead of the both of you, Sergei finally guiding you inside his home. 

Sergei's smirk only widens at your response, your words fueling the curiosity further. He watches the way your eyes dart towards his home, knowing exactly what you're thinking. With a slight chuckle, he leads you inside.

The interior is cozy and warm, lit by a few oil lamps that cast a soft, flickering glow over the room. The scent of woodsmoke and herbs fills the air. Sergei closes the door behind you, locking it securely.

"A secret, huh?" he muses, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now you've got me genuinely intrigued."

You take a seat on the couch, relaxing into the plush fabric. "I'll tell you after dinner, I'm too hungry to wait." you pull a blanket over your body, instantly making yourself at home in the familiar environment. 

Sergei watches as you settle into the couch, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. Your ability to make yourself at home in his space doesn't go unnoticed, and he finds it almost endearing.

"Fair enough," he smirks, moving towards the small kitchenette area. "Dinner won't take too long. I promise I'll have you spilling your secrets soon enough." He grabs a few items from his cupboards and sets to work on preparing the meal.

"Take your time pretty boy," you murmur, eyes glued to his back as he moves around the kitchen.

Sergei's shoulders visibly tense for a moment as your voice drifts over to him, a hint of a grin tugging at his lips. Your playful nickname causes a familiar heat to rise up within him, and he can feel your gaze on his back.

Without turning around, he responds in a low, teasing tone, "Careful, I might get used to the praise."

"Youre right, I cant inflate your ego too much." you giggle softly. He finally finishes the meal, bringing you a bowl of the stew.

Sergei carries the bowl of warm stew back to the living area, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he sets it down in front of you. He doesn't miss the way your eyes light up at the sight and smell of the food, and it only adds to his amusement.

"Here," he says, placing the bowl gently in your hands. "Be careful, it's still hot."

Once you have the bowl securely in your grasp, Sergei takes a step back, arms crossed as he leans against the wall. He watches you closely, his gaze taking in every movement, as you bring the spoon to your lips and take a tentative taste of the stew.

"It's perfect Sergei, amazing." you hum in satisfaction, your eyes meeting his while you enjoy the meal he prepared.

Sergei's smirk blossoms into a satisfied smile as he watches you relish the meal. Hearing your genuine praise and seeing the contentment on your face brings a sense of satisfaction to him. 

"Glad you like it," he replies, leaning back a bit as he observes you. His smirk morphs into a wry grin, and he adds, "I promise I didn't poison it."

"Well of course not, you can't go poisoning your only friend." the two of you sit in comfortable silence as you finish your meals. Once you place the empty bowl on the coffee table you feel the intense stare boring into the side of your head, Sergei watching your every move.

As you set your empty bowl aside, you can feel Sergei's intense gaze on you. His eyes meticulously watch you, cataloging every movement, every flicker of emotion that passes across your face. Being the center of his unblinking attention is a sensation that never fails to awaken the butterflies in your stomach.

After a moment, he breaks the silence. His voice is low, with a hint of huskiness in his tone. "So... about that little secret you've been holding onto..."

"Well, I was thinking.. about asking you if I could stay here for the night." you turn to him, expression pleading. "Look I know it's a little inconvenient-" he interrupts you.

Before you can finish your statement, Sergei cuts you off. You sense a hint of surprise mixed with something else in his expression, but it's quickly concealed behind his usual smirk.

He crosses his arms over his chest, a slightly challenging look in his eyes. "Let me get this straight," he says, his voice taking on a dry edge. "You want to... crash here for the night, no explanation?"

"Well I was going to explain but you interrupted.." you murmur, voice soft as your gaze falls to your hands. "It's just I really like spending time with you.." 

Sergei's expression softens as he hears the note of disappointment in your voice. The hint of challenge in his eyes fades, replaced by a touch of guilt. He doesn't respond immediately, his gaze fixed on your lowered hands.

After a moment, he sighs heavily, his voice holding a hint of resignation. "So, that's your big secret then? You just want more time with me?"

"Yes.." you whisper, silently cursing yourself for ever bringing it up. You always knew that your affections were one sided yet the confirmation of it hurts more than you were anticipating. 

Sergei's eyes are unreadable as he absorbs your words, his expression neutral. A moment of silence follows, the only sound in the room the soft crackle of the fireplace. His gaze is fixed on you, studying your expression and the subtle change in your demeanor.

When he speaks, his voice is softer than usual, a hint of sympathy lacing his words. "Is that the only reason? You just... want to be around me more?"

"I like your company, you're comfortable, *familiar*." you carefully gaze up at him with puppy dog eyes. 

A muscle in Sergei's jaw clenches as he looks down at you, your big, pleading eyes meeting his. The sight stirs something within him, but he's not entirely sure what it is. 

After a moment, he lets out a heavy sigh, his expression a mix of resignation and something else. "Fine," he mutters, looking away. "You can stay here whenever. But only on one condition."

"Anything you want." you smile, moving closer to him, your eyes filled with excitement. 

Sergei notices the way you shift closer to him, the gleam of excitement in your eyes making it obvious how much you want to be close to him. He lets out a huff, pretending to be nonchalant.

"Anything, huh?" he muses, his voice a low rumble. "Careful, you're giving me free reign to make all sorts of demands now."

"You're free to make any demands, it is your house after all." you bring your hands to his knees, fingers gently digging into his clothed skin. "But what is your condition?"

As you place your hands on his knees and dig your fingers into his skin, Sergei can feel a slight shiver run down his spine. The mixture of surprise and a sudden flare of heat takes him momentarily off guard, and he has to force himself to focus on the conversation. 

He takes a moment to reply, eyes flickering down to your fingers before fixing on your face again. "My condition..."

He pauses, swallowing back a sharp reply and instead opting for a straightforward request. "You're not sleeping on the couch."

"Then where will I sleep?" your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you move closer.

Your closeness causes Sergei's breath to hitch ever so slightly, his eyes roaming over your face as you approach. He takes a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. 

"You can take my bed," he says bluntly, his gaze not wavering from yours. "I'll sleep on the couch."

"No," you begin to protest, "can we share the bed? I don't want to steal it from you..."

Sergei blinks, clearly not expecting your response. The idea of sharing his bed with you had never occurred to him before, but now that you've suggested it, he can't deny the spark of heat it ignites within him.

He clears his throat, trying to maintain his cool composure. "You... want to share the bed?" he repeats, his voice a touch huskier than usual.

"Yes.." you grin sweetly, "I'd love to." Sergei can feel the heat rising in his cheeks as you grin sweetly up at him, your eagerness obvious. The thought of sharing his bed with you - of having you that close to him for an entire night - is suddenly far more appealing than he wants to admit. 

He swallows, trying to regain some sense of control. "Very well," he manages, his voice rough. "You can share the bed with me, then."

"Shall we head to bed then? It is getting a bit late.." you yawn quietly. 

With your yawn catching his attention, Sergei glances at the nearby clock. It was indeed getting late. The thought of sharing a bed with you is still on his mind, but he has to admit, he's also feeling rather tired.

"Right." he agrees huskily. He stands from the couch, offering you a hand to help you up. "Let's get some sleep then."

"Lead the way, handsome." you follow close behind as he guides you into his bedroom.

As you follow behind him, your light footsteps echoing quietly against the wooden floorboards, Sergei leads you into his simple yet cozy bedroom. The space is just big enough for a queen-size bed and a small dresser, but it's kept tidy and neat.

He steps aside to allow you to enter first, gesturing towards the bed. "Make yourself comfortable," he murmurs, his eyes on you the entire time.

"Thank you, Sergei." you silently creep into the room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed before sliding out of your pants, folding and placing them on the nightstand. You're blissfully unaware of his tense gaze, watching as you pull your bra off from under your shirt, placing it off to the side. 

Sergei stands in the doorway, watching every one of your movements with unblinking intensity. His eyes seem to follow your every gesture like a hawk tracking its prey. Your casual actions - stripping off your pants and then your bra - are like a slow, torturous reveal to him. 

His jaw clenches, fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides as he struggles to maintain his composure. He cannot deny the effect your presence in his space - in his *bed* \- is having on him.

With a final small stretch you slip beneath the covers, eyes wandering to look at him in the doorway. "Are you coming in?" you murmur, not wanting to steal his space from him.

Sergei's eyes remain glued to you as you slip beneath the covers, a mixture of desire and restraint clearly visible in his gaze. At your question, he snaps out of his trance, realizing he's just been standing there staring. 

He clears his throat slightly, steeling himself before slowly approaching the bed and pulling back the covers on the other side. "Yeah. I'm coming in." 

He slides into the bed beside you, trying to maintain a distance but finding himself drawn to your warmth.

"Good night Sergei.." you whisper in the silent and dark room, eyes fluttering shut as you cuddle into the sheets. The sound of your soft voice whispering goodnight only serves to heighten his senses, the intimacy of the situation making it difficult for him to even breathe. 

"Good night," he mutters in response, his eyes lingering on your form for a moment longer before he turns his gaze to the ceiling. It's going to be a long night.

As the minutes tick by, Sergei finds himself unable to sleep. Your body is a mere arm's length away from him, causing the most primal part of his brain to struggle against the temptation to pull you flush against him. 

He tries to think of anything else - anything that could distract him from the overwhelming desire surging through him. Yet, no matter what he tries, his mind drifts back to you, lying so close but still just out of reach...

You shift in your sleep, soft incoherent murmurs slipping from your parted lips as you move closer to him, craving the heat of his body, the feel of his skin against yours. 

As you shift closer to him, unconsciously seeking his warmth in your sleep, it takes every ounce of Sergei's willpower not to react. He feels the heat of your body as you press up against him, your murmurs sounding like a soft siren's song to his lust-fogged brain. 

He grits his teeth, his muscles coiled tight as he struggles to resist the urge to pull you even closer. "Fuck..." he mutters under his breath, his heartbeat increasing with every inch that separates your bodies.

Your bare leg wraps around his thigh as you pull yourself flush against him, your cheek pressing into his chest. You stir slightly, eyes fluttering open and blinking slowly. 

You place your hand on his chest, fingers brushing over his abs as you turn your head to look at him. Your lips curve into a gentle smile as you make eye contact with him, "Is everything alright?" 

As you stir and awaken, the innocent brush of your fingers against his chest sets his nerve endings ablaze. His skin tingles wherever you touch, the feel of your bare leg wrapped around his sending a jolt of heat through him. 

He meets your gaze, his own eyes dark with poorly concealed desire. "It's... fine," he manages to rasp out, trying to ignore the way his body is reacting to your touch. "Just... can't sleep, that's all."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" your eyes lock with his, full of sleepy affection.

Your sleepy gaze, full of warmth and affection, only makes Sergei's self-control slip further. He swallows roughly, his hand itching to reach out and touch you, to pull you even closer to him. 

"I... I don't... know..." he whispers hoarsely. His gaze drifts down to your parted lips, the temptation to lean in and claim them nearly overpowering. "You're making this very... *difficult* for me, you know." Your eyes widen as you realize his implication, your body tensing slightly. 

Sergei can feel the tension in your body as you realize the meaning behind his words. He curses himself silently, hating the way your slight recoil makes him feel. 

He loosens his grip on your hip, shifting to create a small gap between your bodies, his voice dropping to a more soothing tone. "I didn't mean to startle you. It's just... your presence here, in my bed... it's stirring up some unexpected... *desires*."

"Do you.. desire me?" your voice is a breathless whisper as you scan his features, your heart pounding rapidly inside you.

Your quiet question hangs in the air, and Sergei finds himself hesitating for a moment, the weight of his answer almost too much to bear. His gaze fixates on you, unflinching, as his fingers tighten ever so slightly on your hip. 

"Yes," he finally responds, his voice a rough, low rumble. "I do. More than you could possibly understand."

You take a shakey deep breath, gathering the confidence to make a move on this gentle giant. You slide the blankets off of your bodies, moving to straddle his hips, your eyes full of desire as you gaze down at him. 

Sergei's eyes widen slightly as you remove the blankets and boldly straddle his hips, your unexpected move taking him off guard. The sight of you looming over him, your eyes full of desire, sends a sharp thrill of heat through his body and straight to his core. 

His hands fly to your hips, gripping them with a possessive force. "What are you doing...?" he whispers hoarsely, his voice thick with restrained desire.

"Sergei.. I want you." you press your palms to his chest, slowly beginning to rock your hips against his. 

As you begin to rock your hips against his, Sergei feels a growl rumble in his chest, his fingers digging further into the flesh of your hips. The pressure builds between your bodies, the friction of your movements driving him wild. 

He grabs your wrists, pinning them down on his chest as he looks up at you, his eyes full of a primal need. "You have no idea what you're doing to me," he hisses, his voice barely recognizable.

You continue to grind against him, soft unintelligible noises falling from your lips as you get lost in the feeling of his hardness pressed into your cunt.

With each movement of your hips, Sergei's control unravels further. The feel of your body, grinding against his hardness, sends a surge of raw need through him. He groans loudly, his grasp on your wrists tightening as he fights to maintain some semblance of restraint. 

"Fuck... You... You're going to drive me insane," he mutters, his voice rough and hoarse. "Do you have any idea what you're doing to me right now?"

Sergei's eyes flare with a wild, almost desperate hunger as he watches you, his restrained power a stark contrast to your unbridled passion. He releases your wrists, allowing his hands to glide up your arms, feeling the softness of your skin against his calloused fingers. "If we do this..." he warns, his voice strained with need. "There's no going back." His words hang in the air, a silent question and a promise wrapped in one.

"I know..  know but I need you, Sergei please." you whine, lost in the intoxication of his body against yours. 

Sergei's eyes darken further, the raw desire in them unmistakable. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, and for a moment, it seems like he's fighting an internal battle. Then, with a low growl, he surrenders to the need, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. 

He leans in, capturing your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss that steals your breath away, his tongue demanding entry as your bodies become one in a tangle of heat and passion. The bed beneath you creaks as he rolls you over, his strong arms holding you firmly in place as his hips surge up to meet yours. 

Breaking the kiss, Sergei's eyes never leaving yours, he reaches down to tug at the hem of his shirt. With a swift motion, he pulls it over his head, revealing the defined planes of his chest and abs, his skin glistening with a light sheen of sweat. 

His gaze is intense as he watches you, his movements deliberate as he undoes the button of his pants and slides them down, his erection springing free. Without breaking eye contact, his hands move to your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt and lifting it up over your head. 

His thumbs hook into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down just enough to expose your bare skin to the cool night air. The anticipation is palpable, his eyes never leaving yours as he hooks his fingers into the waistband and tugs them down further, exposing your wet, eager cunt. 

He groans low in his throat, the sight of your nakedness driving him closer to the edge. With one swift move, he rids himself of his own underwear, his cock bobbing heavily with desire. His hand moves between your legs, his fingers sliding through your slickness before he lines himself up, his tip brushing against your entrance. 

"Ready?" he asks, his voice a harsh whisper, his eyes burning with need. At your nod, he pushes into you with a slow, agonizingly sweet motion, filling you completely as he buries himself to the hilt.

You nod, unable to find words as his cock slides into you with an agonizing slowness that makes you quiver with anticipation. Your eyes never leave his as he continues to fill you completely, stretching and claiming every inch of your body with a passionate dominance that sends shivers down your spine. 

His grip on your hips tightens as he starts to move, his powerful strokes setting a rhythm that echoes through the quiet night. Each thrust is punctuated by a guttural groan, his eyes never leaving yours as you both get lost in the moment. 

The room is filled with the scent of sex and sweat, mingling with the faint aroma of the stew from dinner. The warmth of his body is a stark contrast to the coolness of the sheets, creating a delicious friction that sends sparks of pleasure dancing across your skin. 

As he moves within you, Sergei's eyes burn with an intensity that you've never seen before, and you can't help but feel a sense of belonging, a feeling that you are exactly where you're meant to be. His every touch, every kiss feels like coming home, and for the first time in a long time, you feel truly alive and desired.

With each powerful thrust, Sergei's control frays further, his movements becoming more urgent, more primal. His hands grip your hips, guiding your body to meet his with a perfect rhythm that sends waves of pleasure crashing through you. 

You moan his name, your nails digging into his back as your body arches off the bed, begging for more. The room is a symphony of your muffled cries and his feral grunts, the sound of flesh slapping together in an intimate dance. Your eyes are locked in a silent conversation of passion, the fire in his gaze igniting a fierce need within you. 

You can feel yourself inching closer to the edge, your muscles tightening around him as the pressure builds. "Sergei, I'm... I'm going to cum," you gasp out, your body trembling. 

He responds with a low growl, his strokes becoming faster, deeper, pushing you over the precipice until you shatter in his arms, your climax ripping through you like lightning in a summer storm. He follows close behind, his own release a powerful wave that crashes over both of you, leaving you breathless and spent, your bodies tangled together in a mess of limbs and sheets.

He falls to the bed next to you, satisfaction filling his body as you cuddle into his warmth. As you both lay there, the night's passion still lingering in the air, Sergei's thoughts whirl with conflicting emotions. 

He can feel your gentle breath against his chest, the weight of your body against his own, and a sudden realization hits him like a punch in the gut. He can no longer deny the depth of what he feels for you. 

The way he had just made love to you - as passionately, hungrily, almost desperately as he had - betrayed his true feelings. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as he tries to make sense of his thoughts.

"Sergei," you breathe out his name, your eyes fluttering shut as you cuddle into him. 

As you breathe out his name, Sergei's arms tighten around you instinctively. He feels a sudden wave of protectiveness wash over him, a fierce need to keep you safe and loved. 

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Yes, my darling?" he mutters into the darkness, his voice thick with an emotion he doesn't dare name.

"That.. that was good," you murmur sleepily, body slowly relaxing.

A small smile tugs at the corners of Sergei's lips as he listens to your sleepy murmur. He can hear the contented exhaustion in your voice, the way your body is melting into his embrace. "Good, huh?" he replies, his tone soft and faintly teasing. "Just good?"

"Perfect." you correct yourself, causing a satisfied and cocky smirk to rest on his lips. 

A cocky smirk forms on Sergei's lips as you correct yourself, his ego swelling at your praise. "Perfect, hm?" he repeats, his voice laced with self-satisfaction. 

He leans down, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your forehead. "I'll have to try even harder next time then. Can't have you downgrading me to just 'good' after all.”

[buckiverse]

Surrender to You

☆--- paring: sylus x reader

☆--- summary: You suggested a reluctant marriage of convenience due to your struggles in the N109 Zone. Now Sylus, will show you what it truly means to surrender both body and heart to him.

☆--- word count: 6.2k

☆--- warnings: mdni, oral sex, mating press, missionary, bit of background story (not really lore accurate), reader is a virgin, soft!dom sylus, size kink if you squint, sylus is in love fr, no protection is used (wrap it before you tap it)

☆--- a/n: the amount of time it took me to edit this was a bit ridiculous

The N109 Zone has danger lurking throughout it. From the darkest alleys to the stores, they all had one thing in common: The prioritization of information. That is your current motivation. You need more information and quick. Since the death of your beloved family members, you could no longer be complacent. It’s been hard being left in the dark. You thought you could trust the hunter’s association to be honest with you, but that was a lie.

You asked around a lot… from your hunting partner, Xavier, to your colleague Tara and even your boss, Jenna. No one could answer you honestly. Most of them barely “knew” what the N109 Zone was besides the fact that it was perilous. But that much was obvious. 

You took to your own devices, relying on your resourcefulness. You looked online and did intensive research. All you could find out was that a significant catastrophe had transpired... Wander's took over, something to do with the state of protocores, resulting in a significant division between city areas. As a result, the sub-city known as the N109 Zone was established. You could not explain why, but you were sure it was due to the deaths of your parents, as well as your grandmother and childhood friend. 

Initially, the plan was to invade the area, get information, meet some people, and decipher everything while remaining incognito. Unfortunately, it didn’t go that way. You were kidnapped by the most prominent organization in the N109 Zone, Onyichinus. Run by… Sylus? “Yeah, who the hell was that?” you thought aloud. You had never heard of this dude; I mean Onyichinus... Yes. But, even the Hunter’s Association defined the organization as faceless. It was an arduous task to uncover the head of the unit. 

So that is how you ended up here, making a bargain with the devil. The other factions in the area had been restless since discovering your Protocore Syndrome. It was considered a hot commodity. Everywhere you turned, there was danger. This made your job to find the truth more difficult. As a result, you only partially appreciated Sylus's presence.

 “Look, all I want is some information,” you said. Your eyes narrowed as you took in Sylus’s figure. 

“Ah, is that so? And what exactly do you want to know? Everything comes with a price.” he replied. His head tilted slightly, a slight smirk forming on his lips. 

You thought carefully, considering your following response. “It’s not your business; just know that intelligence on Protocore Syndrome has spread, and it’s impossible to handle business. So I’d like to make a deal.”

“And what would that be?” Sylus reacted with amusement.

You replied swiftly, not missing a beat. “We should marry,” you responded confidently. 

Sylus arched an eyebrow, his eyes flashing with something, almost a mix of interest and amusement– that smug bastard, you thought. You attempted to hide your scour; you needed this more than you needed to get one over on the gray-haired man. 

“And how does this deal benefit me?”

“That’s for you to decide and for us to discuss,” you acknowledged. A great silence overcame the room of Sylus's office. You stared at him, holding your resolve, waiting for a reply. 

“Deal”, he replied suddenly. You disguised your surprise, sticking out your right hand to shake his. “Good then.” You said, recovering swiftly. 

“I will handle the guests; you handle the small planning details. Utilize Luke, Kieran, and my card.” Your thoughts were threatened by disbelief. The ease with which he was complying with this was astounding. You wondered, honestly, what Sylus gets out of the arrangement. You told yourself it's nothing to do with you. Finding the truth is what matters; this is only one more step to complete your goal. 

☆---

The venue you chose was stunning. The ceiling mirrored the most beautiful mosaics. The depictions of gods and angels were magnificent. You had never seen something so gorgeous. You reflected on the story presented in the ceiling. What would your life be like under this 'arrangement'? This was serious. It was real and binding. You were having second thoughts, wondering if the information was worth it all. But you encouraged yourself, "Of course, it’s worth it, y/n! How can you live the rest of your life without knowing the truth?” you affirmed aloud, looking around the venue. Everything felt real now. It's only been a few weeks at the Onyichinus base, but it has been productive intel-wise. 

Moving on through your tour, you looked straight ahead at the expansive hall where the ceremony would occur. It was covered in intricate detail. The mosaic patterns worked down the walls, creating various shapes of circles and rectangles in its stead. In front of the walls was a white display of roses. The flowers were delicately spread throughout the venue, covering the reflected pattern on the marble floors. You moved your feet, looking to where the audience would be. Your heart plummeted when you realized you would only know Sylus, Luke, and Kieran. "It is just business, y/n," you said to yourself, adjusting your expression.  

You truly outdid yourself; aside from the grandeur of the ceiling and walls, the remainder of the venue echoed the luxurious color schemes of white and black, with gold touches throughout. It was beautiful, but it was purely professional. Despite the vibrancy around you, you could not help but feel the sterility of the place. You kept your guard up, even to yourself. This is a warzone, and you have allowed Sylus to invite danger. 

As you walked to the reception area, you could not help but admire the luxurious atmosphere. The black marble floors mirrored the massive tree in the center of the room. Chandeliers dangled from the strong branches, illuminating the space. You wandered around the white gold seats and tables, admiring the centerpieces. A glass foundation supported large bouquets of white roses in the center of the table. Each table had the right tableware and a black tablecloth folded into black swans. Reminding you of the rationale for your decision, you must persevere to achieve actual change. 

You looked up as you approached the grand double doors at the end of the hall and noticed Sylus watching you silently. "I trust you managed the guest list," you remarked, jerking out of your thoughts. “Of course, sweetie. Only the most important people. Though I did include a few surprises—what is a wedding without some fun?" he quipped. You rolled your eyes at that. Why is he always insisting on pet names? This is not meant to be authentic.

“This is supposed to be a business arrangement, Sylus. ‘Fun’ wasn't exactly part of the plan.”  You sighed harder than you wanted to, and Sylus simply responded with a slight smirk and laughter.

“Whatever you say… sweetie.” He then turned and made his way out of the wedding venue, leaving you standing there in shock. “Well–are you coming? Assuming you’re hungry, should I let you continue standing there looking lost?” You felt your face flush.

“Fine,” you said, quickly moving through the grand double doors. You slipped outside, watching as Sylus opened the car door for you.

☆---

A few days later, you found yourself in the venue's dressing room, staring yourself down. “This is fucking crazy,” you exclaimed. The realization struck once more: this is happening. 

You were wearing the most stunning gown. It was covered in thousands of tiny diamonds, sewn individually into the dress. The neckline reminded you of a wide v-neck as it rested between the valley of your breasts. Pushing them out just enough–you looked amazing. The dress was perfectly fitted to your curves, and you turned to admire your backside, noticing the cutout of the dress. The fabric rested just above the crack of your ass, but you could not help but admire your good looks.

‘One thing Sylus definitely can provide is unlimited money,’ you laughed out loud. Turning back to face yourself, you admired the mermaid bottom of the dress accentuating your curvy body. You felt like a whole new person.

Your swirling thoughts were cut short by the knocking on the door. “Yes?” you replied, swiftly turning towards the sound. Luke and Kieran opened the door and made their entrance. "Wow," they said in unison. "You look so beautiful, y/n!" Luke said. "The boss will undoubtedly love this dress on you," Kieran remarked. "And off," Luke added, getting pushed in the arm by Kieran. Your cheeks warmed at the statement; you had not considered consummating the marriage. 

Because once again, this is business, you convinced yourself. Even though Sylus is beautiful, his eyes, nose, and plump lips… “Anyway, this note is from the boss. We’ll see you out there, y/n,” said Kieran. You took the note from him and watched as they both walked out. 

A shudder ran down your spine as you held the note in your palm. You looked up to see Mephisto, who "cawed" at you as he flew through the open door. 

“He’s probably running to tell Sylus I got his note,” you commented, side-eyeing the door. The note had a red wax seal on the front of the black envelope. You opened it, and a little pop revealed the white note. You pulled it out with shaking hands.

“I promised you forever, and I don't break my promises.”

You felt your face flushing by the second. This note was so sudden, so why did it feel like he was talking about something deeper than these words reflected? You ran your hands over the words on the page, interrupting your thoughts, and you heard your song start. 

“You can do this, y/n,” you said, leaving the dressing room. Now is where the real work begins.

You stood at the end of the aisle and looked around. You recognized some of the biggest names in the N109 Zone. At least Sylus kept that promise, you thought. The piano rang the most angelic symphony, bringing emotion forth in you. 

You began your walk, stride confident, keeping your head high. Sylus stared at you, his smile widening as you worked your way before the steps. He reached down, grabbed your hand, helping you up the steps to the altar. The officiant began to address the crowd, but it felt like it was just you and Sylus. Why was he looking at you like that? You pondered.

“I’ve waited for this moment longer than you know,” Sylus whispered for only your ears to hear. You cocked your head slightly, you were going to ask what he meant by that, but the officiant addressed Sylus, stating the vows, “Do you take y/n to be your wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward.” Sylus’s red eyes flickered as he looked down at you. “For better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, ‘til death do you apart?” 

"I do," Sylus responded, his big hands attempting to secure the large rock to your finger. Your eyes watered slightly at the sight. Why is this so intense, you wondered, as the officiant recited the vows to you. Of course, you responded with an "I do." 

“You may kiss the bride.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Sylus didn't hesitate. He stepped closer to you, his hand reaching out to cup the side of your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. His touch was gentle but possessive, almost telling you that now you’re his. 

He kissed you firmly but slowly and deliberately. Sylus doesn't rush his kiss with you, almost like he is savoring the moment. The way his lips moved against yours sent warmth coursing through you, pulling you deeper just for a moment. 

For a second, you hesitated, thinking you should pull away and make distance. But then Sylus slid his hand around your neck, pulling you closer and deepening your kiss. And you went with it, kissing him back, slowly at first and then increasing the intensity. 

The world around you faded. It felt like it was just the two of you. Allowing the kiss to linger on longer than it should have. When Sylus pulled away, his lips parted slightly, and you felt his warm breath against your skin. He whispered just for you to hear:

“If you wanted more, sweetie, all you had to do was ask.”

You felt your chest tighten, and you swallowed hard at his statement. You hated that he could make you feel like this. You forced yourself to look away. “Don’t get used to it,” you muttered quickly, knowing your heart raced at the kiss you shared.

Sylus smirked while looking into your eyes. “We’ll see about that.”

☆---

The reception truly went off without a hitch. Some people you’ve never met made elegant speeches, wishing for happiness and prosperity. This was so fake you fought the urge to roll your eyes at the theatrics displayed before you. You glanced at Sylus, admiring his features as the current speaker discussed alliances and protections.

When Sylus leaned into your ear, “Is my face more interesting than the speech, sweetie?” 

You rolled your eyes at him and returned your attention to the speaker. “He’s so cheeky,” you thought. Despite your harsh admissions, you secretly enjoyed his playfulness. It made this whole ordeal feel lighter.

After serving food and drinks, Sylus walked you around the room. The reception hall buzzed with conversation. The guests mingled about discussing business deals disguised as casual conversation. Sylus worked the room effortlessly. His hand rested on the small of your back, sending tingles up your spine as he made contact with your bare skin.

“Ah, there you are,” Sylus said smoothly, flashing a charming smile. “I want you to meet Mr. Blackthorne. He’s one of the key players in the project we’ve been discussing.”

Mr. Blackthorne turned to face you, offering a firm handshake. His gaze lingered over you, measuring you up. You returned the handshake, nodding politely. “It’s a pleasure,” you said.  

Truthfully, your mind was already wandering. The prospects of the evening had been exhausting. The smiling and pretending were weighing on you, and Sylus’s insistence on blurring the lines between you wasn't helping. Focusing was so hard your mind constantly drifted back to the kiss you shared just hours before.

Mr. Blackthorne spoke about contacts, future meetings, and something else—but you couldn't tell what. Your eyes continued to drift around the room, searching for a distraction. You tried your hardest to avoid looking at the white-haired man beside you.

After a few moments, Mr. Blackthore excused himself. “I hope you both enjoy the rest of your evening. We'll be in contact soon, " he said, nodding and walking away.

A smile became present on Sylus’s face. “Sweetie, I think you missed that entire conversation,” He teased, his voice amused. “I could see it on your face—completely checked out. What were you thinking about, hmm?”

Your face heated instantly, and you shot him a sharp look. “I was listening.”

“Really?” Sylus raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a hushed murmur. “It looked to me like your mind was somewhere else entirely. Let me guess… still thinking about that kiss at the altar?”

Your eyes widened at his assertion. “It was just a kiss, Sylus,” you said curtly.

He chucked at your discomfort, “Sure if you say so. But next time, you might want to pay more attention when I introduce you to someone important. We wouldn’t want them thinking you’re too distracted by your new husband to focus on business, now would we?”

Your pulse quickened the way he said, “Husband.” “I’ll try to keep that in mind,” you shot back. You felt like a firecracker inside. 

Sylus grinned at you. “Good. Because I have a feeling I’m going to be keeping your attention quite a bit from now on, " he said, grabbing your hand as another guest approached the two of you. The conversation was a perfect invitation to shift your mind from his teasing. 

The wedding ended quickly after that. When you looked up, you felt that the wedding had ended, and you were in the backseat of an old luxury car, staring directly at Sylus. The mood was slightly lighter than at the wedding, yet it felt heated. And he could not take his gaze away from you; he was blatantly checking you out, making the ride seem shorter. 

“You planned the perfect wedding, but tonight is where the real deal begins, sweetie,” Sylus suggested. The driver maneuvered the luxury car to the massive private gateway of the Onyichinus base. The base itself was vast and Gothic. You had never really stopped to appreciate the building's grandeur before. You reminded yourself that this was only temporary. 

Entering the gate revealed a primarily gray and black building spanning at least a few hundred acres. The arches rested so high in the sky that they broke through the beautiful tranquility of sunset. Large windows, elegant arches, detailed carvings, and the crow resting at the highest peak of the building. How had you not realized the beauty of this place amidst the chaos of the N109 Zone? 

Distracting you from your realizations, Sylus reached for your hand, pulling you out of your thoughts and the car. This felt different now. Sylus led you into the great corridors, walking for what seemed like miles. You walked through the two doors into Sylus's bedroom.

The room was dimly lit, and soft candlelight cast shadows across it. The wedding had been a blur, but now the evening had ended. It was just the two of you.

His room smelled so fucking good. A simple vanilla musk? But it was so amazing that you wanted to bury your face in his sheets. You heard the doors click behind you, bringing you to the present. Sylus leaned his upper back against the oak doors, his giant chest moving up and down, the only sound in the room being your breathing. 

“You’re safe with me, no matter what,” he said, moving off the door and towards you, standing by his bed. Your heart pounded in your chest; it felt so loud that it drowned out the silence. You knew this moment might come, but now you stood before Sylus.

“You’re nervous,” he said softly, his voice lower now, less playful than it had been all evening.

You swallowed, and your throat felt tight. You didn’t know what to say. The air had a thick, unspoken tension. This was supposed to be part of the deal—another step in this arrangement. But now you feel vulnerable in front of him.

Sylus stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, giving you time to feel every bit of space he closed between you two. His hand came up, gently brushing your hair out of your face. The touch was tender, and it made your breath hitch.

“You don’t have to be,” he murmured, his thumb lightly grazing your jawline, tipping your chin upwards so your eyes met his. “I’m not in a rush.”

Your chest tightened. You knew Sylus for his confidence, his teasing—proficiency at getting under your skin—but now, there was something different in his eyes. A softness you didn't know he possessed.

“I—I don’t know what to expect,” you admitted, your voice almost a whisper. You felt so exposed; your inexperience was so evident. It was increasingly hard to maintain your usual composure.

His smile was slow, warm, knowing. “You think too much, sweetie.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours—not demanding, not forceful, just soft and testing. The kiss was meant to calm you and reassure you, yet you found yourself responding. He slid his hand to the back of your neck, slightly deepening the kiss.

When he pulled back, Sylus’s red eyes searched for yours. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he said, his voice quieter, more serious now.

You bit your lip, your heart still racing. You were nervous, but some of you also wanted to trust him. How he looked at you, and his touch sent sparks through your skin… you wanted him.

“I don’t want to stop,” you admitted, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He kissed you again, but this time with more intensity, his lips moving against yours with a deliberate, intoxicating rhythm. Each brush of his mouth sent a warm shiver through you, and instinctively, you rose onto the tips of your toes, your hands pressing against his chest as if to steady yourself. His heart beat strong and steady beneath your fingertips, grounding you as your pulse raced.

The kiss deepened, his tongue softly parting your lips in a request for more. You hesitated only momentarily, then parted them, inviting him in. His tongue brushed against yours, teasing and coaxing, his every movement confident and controlled. It was overwhelming and perfect, a mix of dominance and tenderness that left you breathless.

Sylus pulled back slightly, his breath warm against your swollen lips. He was grinning now, his eyes dark with desire and amusement. “Why don’t you let me help you with this?” His voice was a low murmur, and before you could respond, his hands slid to your waist, his fingers curling possessively around your hips.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he turned you, his body pressing against yours from behind. Your back pressed to his chest, and your breath hitched as you realized what he was doing. He had positioned you in front of a mirror. Your wide eyes met your reflection, and you could see Sylus’s smirk in the glass, his gaze fixed on you with a heat that made your skin tingle.

“Look at yourself,” he whispered in your ear, his lips brushing against your neck as his hands moved to the fabric of your dress. “So beautiful when you’re nervous.” His fingers began to undo the delicate fastening at the back, his movements slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring every second.

The sight of him undressing you in the mirror, the way he watched your every reaction, sent a thrill through you that you couldn’t entirely suppress. You felt vulnerable and exposed, but there was something undeniably magnetic about the way he controlled the moment, making it impossible for you to look away from the reflection of your shared desire.

Sylus leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your bare shoulder as your dress began to loosen under his touch. “Let me show you how good this can be,” he murmured, his voice a silken promise that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

And as his hands continued their slow, teasing exploration, you realized you were already too far gone to resist. His movements caused the straps of your dress to loosen, but you held the fabric against your chest, not letting it fall.

He pressed soft kisses against your earlobe. “Let it fall,” he commanded tenderly. Your breath hitched at his command, but you complied, allowing the dress to fall forward, revealing your nipples.

“Beautiful,” he said. Reaching his large hands to cup your breasts. Sylus pulled your body back till you were flush against his broad chest. He was moving his hands to play with your nipples. He rubbed them softly, allowing them to harden between his fingers and tugging them forward firmly. He watched your reaction in the mirror as your face contorted slightly to tug your bottom lip between your teeth. 

He grinned, removing his hands from your nipples to the back of your neck. He dragged his middle finger down to just above your ass, where the fabric of the dress ended. You tilted your head slightly at the movement of his hands. You missed the warmth of his hands on your nipples, but you didn't dare ask for them back as you wanted to see what he was doing next. 

Suddenly, you heard the hidden zipper opening the rest of your dress. You stepped forward out of the dress just in panties, turning around to fully face Sylus. “You’re so beautiful,” Sylus murmured, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he gazed down into your eyes. He pulled you in for a soft, lingering kiss—just enough to make your heart race. You flushed under his gaze, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks but not daring to look away.

“Let me help you, Sylus,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “I can’t be the only one left like this.” You reached up, gripping his tie and giving it a playful tug, your eyes gleaming with mischief.

His smirk deepened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Take it off then,” he challenged, his voice low and teasing, daring you with his trademark confidence.

Your hands moved to unwork his tie, pulling him closer to you, causing him to chuckle slightly and grab your bare waist. You shuddered slightly under his touch, continuing your steady exploration. You discarded his tie to the floor and began unbuttoning his perfectly fitting shirt. It was a red button-up. You slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing Sylus’s beautifully sculpted body. You innocently peered up at his intense stare. He watched your every movement so close that the only sound in the room was your shared breaths. You drew your finger from his collarbone down to his navel, where you watched him flex slightly at your touch.

You slid his shirt off, letting the fabric fall to the floor before lowering yourself to your knees in front of him. Sylus raised an eyebrow, a smirk curving his lips as he looked down at you.

“And what exactly do you plan on doing down there?” His voice was rich with amusement and teasing but edged with something darker and more intense.

You glanced up at him, a slight pout forming on your flushed face. “Helping you undress,” you replied softly but with playful defiance.

Your hands moved to the front of his pants, your fingers steady as you unbuckled his belt. The sound of the leather sliding through the loops was the only thing breaking the tension in the room.

You looked up at Sylus, licking your lips. You pressed your hand against the bulge in his briefs. Your eyes widened a bit, realizing his size. It’s so big.

Sylus’s hand reached down, his fingers threading through your hair gently but firmly. He tugged you up to your feet with one swift motion, pulling you close until your chest pressed against his. His eyes, dark and heated, locked with yours as his other hand slid around your waist, securing you against him.

“That’s enough of you on your knees, sweetie,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous with a hint of a smile on his lips.

Without another word, he tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, leaving no doubt who was in control of the moment. His touch was possessive, but there was a gentleness in how his fingers trailed over your skin, as if he was savoring every inch of the contact.

He laid you back gently on the bed. You looked up at him, patient and waiting, propping yourself up on your forearms.

The noise in your mind was silenced as all you could focus on was Sylus. He dragged his large hands languidly down your body, stopping at the waistband of your underwear. It was a lacy white piece that beautifully complimented your skin. He hooked his fingers underneath it, tugging the fabric down the length of your legs before discarding them behind him.

You held your legs together, not daring to let them fall apart. Sylus’s hands worked between your knees “Kitten, relax for me”, he said softly, looking longingly into your eyes. You allowed yourself to relax a bit as he pulled your legs apart. “That’s my girl,” he drawled. 

“Fuck, you’re drenched” He knelt before you, his hands coming to rest on your thighs as he leaned in, his hot breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers traced slow circles teasing you, his eyes locked on yours.

“Do you want me to taste you, sweetie?” The question tested your resolve, and he waited for your response. 

“Y-yes,” you whispered. Your hands moved up to cover your face. 

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile, his eyes gleaming at your permission. He leaned in, his fingers parting your folds before pressing a single, languid, wet kiss against your core. The sensation of his kiss caused you to arch your back, “Oh god, Sylus.”

“mhm, you taste so sweet,” he murmured. His voice was thick with desire as he continued to tease you. The sound of his voice, the noises from his mouth as he made out with your cunt, made you wetter. 

You felt his rough hands hold under your knees, pushing your legs further apart, splaying you open for him.

“Tell me how it feels, Kitten. Tell me how much you want me to make you cum for me.” Your back arched off the bed, your hands moving to grip his hair. You felt heat moving through you.

Sylus took his time, drawing out your pleasure. He was focused on bringing you to the edge. He spent time learning you, tasting you.

“Please… p-please, Sylus, I want to come.” This was the first time you've ever been touched like this, and you loved it. You had never felt anything like this before. Touching yourself could never compare to what Sylus was doing to you. 

Sylus’s tongue flicked faster, and his fingers moved, pressing that sensitive spot inside you. His eyes opened and locked onto yours, his gaze fierce. He was testing your reaction and pressing the little spot inside you firmer.  

You squirmed against his face, and your moans escaped you. You gripped his hair harder, pulling his mouth closer to you.

“Say it again, sweetie. Beg me to let you cum.” 

Fuck, his mouth is filthy. 

His tongue swirled around your clit, drawing your orgasm nearer.

He wanted to hear it, wanted you to surrender completely to him, to trust him. His lips closed around your clit, sucking down on your nub hard, driving you closer and closer to the edge. His fingers joined in, working your insides as he stroked your slick cunt with his mouth.

“Say it, kitten. Say you want to cum for me.”

“I want to come for you, please!” you shouted. Tears threatening to fall off your eyelashes.

Sylus’s lips curved into a satisfied smirk, his eyes glinting with triumph as he felt your body tremble beneath his touch. Your orgasm crashed over you, and pleasure flooded your senses. Your legs spasmed as you came on his tongue. 

He held you down while you came, allowing you to ride out your pleasure. His tongue lingered until the very last moment, leaving you quivering and desperate for more.

You lay against the bed, your body slowly coming down from the high. You couldn't find the words for a moment, your mind still swimming from what he’d just done.

Finally, you managed a shaky breath, your voice soft but laced with disbelief. “I… didn’t know it could feel like that.” Your cheeks flushed at the admission.

Sylus hovered above you, and you could feel the heat radiating from him. His eyes lit up with satisfaction as he looked down at you, watching you try to catch your breath, your flushed cheeks, and parted lips.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand slid up your thigh, sending another shiver through you. “I’m just getting started. Trust me, it can feel even better.” His tone was both a promise and a challenge, daring you to let him take you further.

A shaky breath left your lips, and a wave of heat ran through you from his words. A small smile fell on your lips. “I guess I’ll have to trust you, won’t I?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned your head to meet his eyes. Your tone was still nervous, but your body’s response to him showed how you felt. 

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his, your heartbeat thundering in your chest. “Be careful with me… just for now,” you said, smiling slightly, allowing yourself to be a bit vulnerable with him.

His hand slid to your waist, fingers curling around your hip as he pulled you toward him again.

“Oh, sweetie,” he murmured, his voice a smooth, velvety purr, “you don’t just ‘have to’ trust me… you’re going to want to.”

His fingers traced slow circles on your skin, sending shivers through you. “Trust me,” he whispered, “I’m very good at making you want more.”

At that, you turned him towards the bed, pushing him down on his back. You straddled him, and you felt his clothed bulge pressing against your naked pussy, leaving a wet spot on him. You laid your hands on his chest, rubbing your hands down his hard body. Your heart was pounding through your chest. You moved your hands to push down his briefs, feeling his cock in your hands. 

Sylus flexed his abs at your touch. His lips parted slightly, his breath catching in his throat. You wrapped your fingers around him; he felt heavy in your palm. 

Sylus watched you through half-lidded eyes. Waiting for your next move until he switched your positions. You were now underneath him, his cock hard and ready, resting against your thigh. 

He sat up and positioned himself at your entrance. His eyes trained on where you’d be connected. The head of his cock rubbed against your arousal, catching on your sensitive clit. Your breath caught as he moved to press his erection inside.

Fuck. You felt your walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock. You saw the flush forming on his cheeks through your teary eyes. 

He bottomed out in you, finally looking into your eyes. “Breathe for me, kitten.” And you did. His hands came down by your head, caging you in. His hips moved backward, pushing back into you slowly. 

His mouth parted slightly as he looked down at you, “You feel so good.” he grits out. 

His thrusts were slow and deliberate, his eyes locked onto yours. You stayed there, not daring to look away. Your breath hitched, and your heart pounded out of your chest. You could feel him throbbing inside you, causing your walls to clench around him. 

Sylus moves by repositioning your legs on his shoulders, allowing him to move deeper within you. Your tits bounced up and down at the power of his thrusts. He moved his hands to pinch your nipples. The pinch of his fingers shot heat to your core, making you squeeze around him again. 

“Fuck” he purred out, his eyes closed at the feeling of you wrapping around him. He moved his hands in between your legs, settling on your clit. He rubbed it steadily, flicking it between his thumb.

Your mind was empty from Sylus fucking you. He was hitting that sensitive spot inside your pussy over and over. You felt your body tensing up again, the wave of pleasure starting to work through your body.

 “Come for me one more time, kitten. Let me hear you.” Sylus whispered into your ear, pressing your legs back by your head. You felt him kiss the shell of your ear. You could feel your sensitive nipples rubbing against his chest, his thumb playing with your clit. 

“Come for me, Wife.”

You gasped, body trembling as the tension in your core built until it snapped. “Sylus…!” you cried out, your voice breaking as your body twitched uncontrollably in his arms. He held you firm, grounding you as his thrusts remained slow and deliberate, each one pushing you further into bliss.

“Look at me,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. You forced your eyes open, locking onto his. His beautiful, red gaze never wavered, even now. The look in his eyes was more than lust—it was a connection, raw intimacy that seemed to transcend the physical. It made your heart skip a beat, just as much as the sensation of him inside you.

His pace faltered then, his movements growing erratic as he drove into you deeper, harder. “Fuck,” he growled, his lips parting in a low, primal sound that sent shivers through you. His body tensed, muscles tight as he pushed as far into you as he could, his release crashing through him.

With a final groan, Sylus collapsed forward, his weight settling over you as you both came down from your highs. His breath was warm against your skin, his heartbeat slowing in time with yours.

He lifted his head, eyes softening as they met yours again, a tenderness replacing the intensity from moments before. “Thank you for trusting me, y/n,” he whispered, brushing a thumb gently across your cheek.

“You’ve given me every reason to,” you said, smiling at him gently.

☆---

yall this idea was stuck in my head for a solid two weeks. i blame twitter l&ds stans for this. I SWORE i did not fuck with sylus like that up until a couple weeks ago...

[majestyeverlasting]

Hello there! :) If I may, I’d like to request a Joel miller x reader ⇩

something where the reader is experiencing a migraine (headache + nausea and all that) and Joel tries calling her all day while he’s out and when he gets home he finds her asleep in pitch black room and realises what’s wrong, but knows exactly how to comfort his girl? 🥰

*im sorryyy if that’s long or weirdly specific it’s just something I’ve been struggling with lately and I need some comfort about it don’t mind me😻)*

𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 | 𝐣𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

Pairing Joel Miller x Female Reader 

Summary Joel comes home to find that you’re suffering from a migraine in bed. Luckily, he’s helped you through this once or twice. [no outbreak, hurt/comfort, fluff, 1.8k]. 

A/N Thanks for this request! I promise it's not weird at all. In my head, this is Joel and reader from here with you. 

⠂⠁⠈⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂

Joel (8:57 AM) Sorry I missed you this morning, didn’t wanna wake you. Have a good day. -J

Joel (11:02 AM) Checking in. You up and at em yet? 

Joel (2:34 PM) Everything okay? Call you in a bit. -J

Still nothing from you. Joel locks his phone and rests his forearms on his legs. 

Today is the warmest day all week. Getting to ditch the extra layer is nice. Tommy shields his eyes from the sun as he exits a prim house with a spotless driveway and plush lawn. Beside it is another perfect lot, and another, and another, arranged around the whole cul-de-sac. He and Joel had been contracted to do a kitchen upgrade for the new homeowners and were in the process of working through the finishing touches.

From his seated position on the curb, Joel looks over his shoulder as footsteps approach. Tommy draws his leg back like he plans to kick him, and snickers when he leans out the way.

“Watch yourself,” Joel warns.

“Or what?” A smirk pulls at Tommy’s lips. “I’ll lay your old ass out on this asphalt.”

Joel shakes his head as Tommy sits down beside him with a grunt. A comfortable silence settles between them, and Joel fights the urge to check his phone even though it hasn’t buzzed. Tommy notices the slight tension in his shoulders but chalks it up to wanting to be done for the day. After the owners did their final walkthrough tomorrow, a three-day weekend awaited.

A cool breeze rolls through as Tommy stretches his legs out in front of himself, his jeans peppered with dust and dried specks of white paint. When he takes a swig from the bottle he walked outside with, Joel’s squints at the label, his interest piqued.

“Kombucha?” he says with furrowed brows.

Tommy nods as he swallows. “Sarah put me on,” he says after wiping his mouth. “Helps with your gut. Something like that.”

“A few crunches should do the trick,” Joel mutters.

Tommy snorts and elbows him. “Right back at you, smartass.” Joel huffs a breath at that. “Hey, what do you think about going fishing this weekend—Saturday maybe?”

When his brother doesn’t respond, he knocks his knee against his. “Anybody home?”

Joel straightens up in hopes of making his anxiety less evident. Except, he wears it like a second skin. To deny it would be to deny himself.

“What time you think we’ll be done today?” The break they carved out just started, but it’s his roundabout way of suggesting they get back to work. There wasn’t too much left to do if they locked in—some additional caulking, sealing, and polishing.

Tommy shakes his head as he calculates. “Three-thirty, four?” Then he narrows his eyes at Joel. “You’ve been sitting funny since I walked out here…”

Joel’s chest puffs with a sigh as he unlocks his phone. The text thread between the two of you is already pulled up, and all three of his messages to you are unanswered. Tommy leans closer to read them and bites his lower lip as the gears start turning in his head.

He decides to draw a little levity in, “You piss her off?” There’s a teasing undertone to his question.

“Don't think so,” Joel says as he shifts. “Gonna give her a call.”

Tommy nods and claps him on the back. “We can get back to work after.”

He heads back inside to give his brother some privacy.

When you don’t answer the phone, Joel leaves a message anyway.

“Hey, sweetheart. Haven’t been able to get through to you, but I’ll be home soon, okay? Four-thirty at the latest…” he pauses to bite his lower lip. “Call me if you get this before I’m there. Love you.”

•••

It’s quiet when he arrives home. Virtually undisturbed. The pillows on the couch are positioned in the exact way they’d been left after last night’s impromptu movie night. The TV remote is in the same place on the coffee table as well. There’s nothing that suggests you’ve been stirring around at all. He walks deeper into the house to find that the kitchen and sunroom are empty too. The late afternoon sun pools in through the window.

When he makes it back around to the staircase, he jogs to the top. The wood creaks beneath his steps.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out. “I’m home. You up here?”

His voice carries to where you’re tucked in bed, but you can’t bring yourself to answer back. Not loud enough for him to hear you, at least. The ache that once pulsed throughout your head has steadied to the point where you don’t want to risk overexerting yourself and tumbling back to square one. Joel would find you anyway. He always did. And he never viewed you or your pain as a burden. He knew how to cradle both, how to ease them without second thought.

Light pours into the bedroom as the door opens slowly. You can make out the outline of his tall, broad frame, and hear the soft sound of his socks against the hardwood as he pads to you in the dark. Thanks to the blackout curtains, there’s hardly any light entering in. Only the smallest slivers.

After his eyes adjust, he can begin to make out the shapes around the room. The red glow of the alarm clock allows him to see your face, your slow-blinking eyes.

Without uttering a word, he gently presses the back of his hand to your forehead, then moves it down to rest against your warm cheek. You press into his touch just slightly, and it tugs something awful at his chest. Makes him wish he could bear your pain.

“Migraine,” you murmur.

An apologetic hum vibrates through his chest. “You been like this all day?” he asks softly.

“Got bad at noon.”

He sighs. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You weakly reach out for his hand and give it a gentle squeeze. It’s much larger than yours, rugged and calloused, but you’d hold on forever if you could. If he’d let you. With his free hand, he picks up the tumbler bottle on the nightstand to find that it’s light.

“I’m gonna go get you some more water. It’s probably time for some more Advil too.”

The weight of his attentiveness makes you nod like you’re surrendering. And maybe you are giving something up—the burden of the day. Of having to do everything on your own. His fingers tighten around yours in a final squeeze before he lets go.

You shouldn’t miss him in the short time that he’s gone, but you do. It’s the same tug that lingered in your chest all day, but is kinder now that he’s home. Not miles away out of reach. When he comes back, it’s with more than he initially set out for, all of it somehow balanced in his hold. He quietly sets it all on the nightstand.

“You can turn the little lamp on,” you murmur. There was a battery-powered ambient lamp alongside the larger one.

“I’m aces, honey,” he assures. “You wanna sit up for a second, I got your medicine right here.”

You prop yourself up on your forearm and gratefully take it from him. He holds your tumbler to your lips so you can reach the straw to wash it down.

“There ya go,” he praises as you settle back down. “Got a cold pack and some grapes too. Get a little something on your stomach before I get dinner worked out later…” He talks, almost absentmindedly, as he continues to get you situated. But he knows exactly what he’s doing. It’s a routine he’s coaxed you through more times than he’d like.

A long hum rises in your throat as he positions the cold pack on the back of your neck. A stark but pleasant chill ripples through your overheated body like slow melting ice. All you can muster is another grateful hum as he sets the small bowl of grapes on the mattress beside you. There’s a crisp, sweet pop as you usher one into your mouth.

“Gonna go grab a quick shower.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t go anywhere,” he adds lightly.

A small smile pulls at your lips.

•••

An hour. That’s how much later you wake up in his arms with his lips at your shoulder, his strong arm draped around your waist to keep you close. There’d hardly been any words exchanged between you in the moments before then, only confirmations of each other’s comfort and whispered I love you’s. You’d dozed off a couple of times since noon, but nothing comparable to the steady rest that came along with his proximity.

He doesn't realize you’re awake until you shift and reach toward the nightstand. The light of the ambient lamp soon illuminates the room, joined by the glow of your phone a moment later. Joel takes it as a sign you’re feeling better than he found you, and that’s more than enough. The gentle, repetitive tap of your thumb against the screen lets him know you’re going through old notifications.

His hand finds your hip beneath the sheets, where he draws slow, small circles with his thumb. It isn’t long before you lock the device and set it back down.

The sheets rustle as you turn around to face him. Sleep’s haze lingers between you as you trail your fingertips along his jaw in a featherlight brush. The scratch of his beard feels nice, and you continue the motion until you’re unable to stop the fond chuckle that shakes your chest. It’s no more than a quick breath, but Joel smiles shyly anyway.

“What?” he asks, voice a little gruff.

“J,” you murmur with a teasing lilt. “You don’t need to sign your texts. I know already it’s you.” You poke an affectionate finger into his stomach.

His smile grows as he offers a helpless shrug, warmth in his dark eyes. It’s impossible to fight the urge to scoot closer and press the briefest, softest kiss to his lips. He makes a small sound in the back of his throat.

“Tommy had me thinking I might’ve done something to upset you,” he says as he brushes a knuckle across your cheek.

“I’d never ignore you like that.”

Joel knows that, but says, “Except for that one time.”

You frown in confusion, but your mouth falls open in amusement when you realize what he means. “That was a million years ago, and it lasted five minutes—not even that.”

Joel chuckles, and when it triggers you to join him in laughing, you realize that’s all he sought to gain by bringing it up.

“Clearly it left a mark.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses the heel of your palm. A smile lingers on his lips as you laugh again.

He then studies your eyes, your nose, your lips. He loves you so much he sometimes wonders how he’s been able to manage it without bursting at the seams.

“You feelin’ a bit better?” he asks after a few quiet beats.

“Much,” you promise.

He kisses your palm again. This time he lets his lips linger.

-

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. I promise I see them all! 

more of this couple -> here with you

JOEL MASTERLIST 

GENERAL MASTERLIST   

[producedbysohyun]

A Not So Secret Secret pt.2

Kang Dae-ho x pregnant! Reader

Summary: Still trapped in the games, you depend on Dae-ho for comfort and protection as you face the games, sickness, and constant fear.

Warnings: Reader is replacing number 222 but has no correlation with 333, Reader is pregnant, mentions of killing and stuff like that, might be slightly inaccurate, Not proofread.

wc: 3.2k

a/n: This took along time please enjoy!!

Pt.1 masterlist

You wake up. Now your third day of being in the squid games.

As the speaker goes off telling everyone that its morning time you sit up, groaning softly as your neck is aching from using Dae-ho's arm as a pillow the whole night. Your group around you wakes up as well, everyone looking dazed as they still find it hard to process the situation they are in.

Everyone in the game lines up and gets their breakfast, a piece of bread and some milk.

"what kind of breakfast is this" you think to yourself, your hunger really getting to you.

Despite the disappointment of bread for breakfast, you go and sit where your group would usually sit, waiting for everyone in the group to join as well.

You sit there, mindlessly eating your bread until Dae-ho comes and sits next to you.

"Hi baby how are you feeling?' he asks, giving you a small smile.

You just pout. "hungry.."

He frowns before giving you his bread.

"Nooo its fine..." You try to protest, knowing its not gonna get you anywhere.

He smiles "We've been through this already, I'm fine" He reassures you.

You frown and take the bread. You feel so useless, just eating peoples food even though it was offered to you.

"ahh.. actually it's fine really.. you need to eat..." you say as you hand the food back to him, your thoughts getting the best of you.

He looks at you softly before trying to negotiate. "How about we split it? You know what you have right now is not enough for you at all.."

You give in, to hungry to say no, "ok.." You smile as he gives you half his bread, though your piece is much bigger than his.

By now the rest of the group has joined you guys and all of you are just talking about whatever comes to mind, The next game, escaping, the fight that might take place tonight, and stuff like that.

Suddenly, the room starts spinning, and a wave of nausea hits you. You feel your head spin, and before you can react, you quickly push yourself up and speed-walk to the bathroom, trying to keep your balance. Dae-ho calls your name, but you don’t respond, too focused on getting to the bathroom. Once inside, you rush into a stall and throw up everything you just ate. Afterward, you sit on the cold bathroom floor, your back against the stall, too weak to move. The nausea lingers, and you just close your eyes, wishing for it to pass.

"it must just be morning sickness.." you thought to yourself.

Even though you've only experienced it a few times, the games seem to be making it lot worse, most likely due to the amount of stress you're under.

You must've been in there for awhile as the voice on the speaker sounds once again. "please follow the guards to your next game."

You quickly get up, flushing the toilet and running out of the bathroom back over to your group.

Dae-ho looks panicked before he spots you. "Are you ok???" he asks worriedly.

You nod, panting from running so fast. "I just felt a little sick that's all."

The group exchanges worried glances, their faces filled with concern, though there isn't much they can do.

You step into the colorful room with stairs and begin to climb, but each step feels heavier. You struggle a bit, the stairs feeling like a mountain to your exhausted and sick body, and they only get harder as you go. Halfway up, you lose your footing and stumble, nearly falling backward.

Luckily for you Dae-ho was right behind you and quickly put his hands on your waist, steadying you.

"are you ok??" he asks, worry in this voice. "Do you need me to carry you?"

"N-no I got it.. I'm alright.." You regain your balance and continue walking up the stairs.

Dae-ho stays close behind you on high alert just incase you stumble again.

As you guys get to the next game you take in your surroundings. The room has a red circle platform with horses in the middle. A multitude of colorful doors are placed on the walls of the room and the ceiling is almost like one of a carnival tent with white and red stripes on it.

"this game is called mingle." The speaker says.

"Ohh.. we used to play something like this when I was younger, but you would have to get in groups by hugging" Jung-bae says to the group.

You feel a bit more relieved as he says that. At least someone knows what they are doing.

The speaker goes off a again. "all players will stand on the platform and as it spins. When the music stops a random number will be called out. You will have to form groups of that number and go into one of the rooms before the timer is up or you will be eliminated."

After the announcement your group immediately starts talking about what to do.

Dae-ho turns to you. "No matter what just stay with me.. ok?"

You nod, not even wanting to think about the two of you getting separated in a place like this.

Your group manages to get somewhat of a plan before the game starts, the platform starting to spin as some children's song plays.

You tightly grip onto Dae-ho's hand, wanting to insure you guys won't be separated and as you do so the platform abruptly stops.

"ten" the speaker says as a 30 second timer shows up.

Your group of five desperately searches for another group of five but only finds one of four. Suddenly, number 120, a member of the group of four runs off and grabs a random girl.

"we have ten now! Go to room 44! The green door!" she calls out.

All ten of you quickly run into the room, the doors locking soon behind you. Your hand never leaving Dae-ho's.

The ten of you all breathe heavily as the sound of gun shots and people begging for their lives are heard outside of the room.

You lean back against the wall, exhausted and scared. Your hands are shaking like crazy and it catches Dae-ho's attention. His thumb gently caresses the back of your hand, trying to comfort you the best he can in the moment. Then, the random lady starts yelling.

“You’re alive because of me!” She exclaims before turning to Gi-hun, giving him a creepy look. “It seems there’s a reason you’ve survived longer than you were supposed to.” She says as she smirks.

The lady then turns to you and just stares at you creepily for a bit, Dae-ho keeping a close eye on her to make sure she doesn’t try anything.

Then, to your luck, doors unlock and all of you walk out. You cringe as you step in a pile of blood on the floor, but at this point you're pretty used to it.

Everyone gets back on the platform and then, it starts to spin, the song ringing loudly in your ears. Your heart feels like it's gonna beat out of your chest but you try to focus on the game as best as you can.

The platform stops once again. "four" the speaker says.

You all look at each other. There are five of you. You need four.

Gi-hun speaks up, not afraid to sacrifice himself. "you four go-"

"No, go ahead guys." Young-il cuts him off, already walking away, not giving any room for protest.

Gi-hun just stands there before getting dragged away by Jung-bae.

"we have no choice come on!" Jung-bae exclaims to all of you.

You all quickly run into a greyish purplish room. But Gi-hun hesitate to close the door as he's looking for Young-il.

The timer starts to get it it's last seconds before Gi-hun finally closes the door.

More gunshots are heard outside but you don't care at this point, You're just grateful you're alive.

The door soon unlock and everyone repeats the same process.

The platform starts to spin and you stumble a bit. Dae-ho quickly stables you, still holding onto your hand.

you squeeze his hand tighter as the platform stops.

"three" The speaker says.

"you three go- me and Young-il will find one more person!" Gi-hun says urgently.

You, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae waste no time running into one of the empty rooms.

Suddenly a random guy runs into your guys' room and you being the only girl and the weakest, he grabs you and try's to drag you out.

Dae-ho and Jung-bae both react at the same time. Dae-ho gently pushes you behind him as Him and Jung-bae shove the guy out of the room.

You breathe heavily, trying to figure out what just happened before Dae-ho turns around and bends down to your level.

"are you ok?" He asks, eyeing you everywhere for any sort of injury.

You just nod breathlessly and lean against him, putting your head against his chest as the door locks. He gently puts his arms around you, kissing your head softly.

"thank you guys" you say to the two boys with as much gratefulness as possible.

"of course" Jung-bae nods as he breathes heavily.

The doors soon unlock and Dae-ho lets go of you, taking your hand again as the three of you walk out of the room and reunite with the rest of your group.

You all look at each other relieved everyone survived before getting on the platform for what felt like the tenth time.

The song began once again as the platform spun slowly.

"Six" the speaker called out as the spinning stopped.

Your group turns to the group of four that went with a few games ago. You can't exactly tell what they are saying as everyone is yelling. They agree on something and you feel Dae-ho start running somewhere with you and the group of four following behind. He opens a door but the room already has people in it. The people in the room slammed the door shut before the same player from a few games ago, 120, started yelling. "Over here! This room is empty! hurry!"

All five of you started running towards the door and you all got inside on time except number 095 had fallen. 120 tried to go and save her but was shoved back in by some guy and before she could do anything, the doors shut and locked.

You had no idea what was happening all you saw was the young girls eyes from the rectangle hole in the door.

"unnie..." She said, fear in her voice.

"young-mi!" Player 120 exclaimed as she ran to the door, trying her absolute hardest to open it, but there was nothing she could do, the young girl had been shot.

Player 120 immediately went over to player 333, the guy who had stopped her from saving Young-mi, and started yelling at him.

Player 333 snapped back. "If you would've saved her you would all be dead right now! I'm the reason all of you are alive! Am I wrong?!"

You hesitantly spoke up. "He's right..."

Dae-ho soon followed after you, also agreeing.

Player 120 just stayed quiet as the door unlocked and everyone sorrowfully walked out of the room.

You all got back on the platform and Jung-bae turned to Gi-hun.

"what do you think it will be this time?" Jung-bae asked.

"two" Young-il asnwered.

Everyone in the group looked at him with worry. "why?" Jung-bae questioned.

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. The rest will be killed." Young-il answered as the platform abruptly stopped again.

"two" the speaker called out.

You had no time to think before Dae-ho grabbed your hand and started running with you to a room.

While you were running some guy without a teammate shoved you and you fell to the floor, your arm going right into your stomach.

Dae-ho reacted quickly, immediately grabbing the guy and punching him before shoving him to give himself some more time to grab you.

You feel yourself being quickly lifted up off the floor and being carried into a room.

Dae-ho sets you down on the floor, the door locking as he looks you over frantically. "baby?? are you ok???"

All you can do is whimper, you had hit your head pretty hard when you fell and your arm had also went right into your stomach.

"Can you talk to me??" He grabs your face softly and makes you look at him.

"my head hurts" you say quietly.

Dae-hos face lights up, happy you can atleast talk, but he still looks very concerned. "yeah? Did you hit it?" he asks with worry in his voice.

You nod as the doors unlock.

He looks at the door before look back at you "can you walk?'

You nod, knowing its probably a lie but you get up nonetheless, slightly stumbling.

Dae-ho puts an arm around your waist. "lean on me baby.." He orders sofly.

You do just that, depending on him to hold you up as the both of you walk out of the door and reunite with your group.

Gi-hun sees the state you're in and looks visibly worried. "are you ok y/n?"

You nod, too out of it to speak.

Gi-hun, not believing you looks at Dae-ho, hoping he'll provide an answer.

Dae-ho just gives him an unsure look and shrugs as they walk out of the game room.

Dae-ho carefully helps you navigate your way down the stairs. "are you sure you don't want me to carry you?"

You nod, not wanting to be a burden on him. "I'm alright Dae.."

He sighs and nods as the two of you make your way down the stairs into the main area.

Your group sat in their usual area while you got some rest. They discussed the vote that would be taking place soon and how they only need seven players to change from O to X to be able to go home.

As the voice form the speaker calls out that the vote is starting, Dae-ho goes over to the sleeping area and softly wakes you up.

You groan softly "Do I have to..."

Dae-ho looks at you softly "yes.. we are voting now.."

You whine and sit up, on the verge of tears as you just want to sleep and go home.

Dae-ho sees this and frowns. "I know baby I'm sorry.." He says as he helps you up.

*time skip to vote*

You all have finished voting and it was 49 X and O 50. There was one person left to vote. Young-il. But he looked very suspicious. You crossed your fingers as Dae-ho put his head in your shoulder, not being able to watch.

*beep*

The buzzer went off and Young-il had voted for X. It was a tie. Everyone from your group sighed in relief. The guard's announced that since it was a tie there would be another vote tomorrow.

A bit after the vote everyone lined up for dinner. Your group sat back in their spot and you just sat in bed and ate. Dae-ho decided to give you some space as your mood wasn't good and he didn't wanna bother you.

As you ate in your bed you could here people yelling and you see Dae-ho in the middle of it. Confused you stand up and try to go over to him but the old lady grabs your wrist, stopping you.

"Please don't get involved..." She says softly.

You sigh and just sit next to her. "what are they fighting over.."

"We were trying to get some of the people that voted for O to vote for X but they just got offended.." She explains.

You just sigh and realize you've eaten all your kimbap.

"Did you eat enough?" The old lady asks softly.

You smile at her. "ya.. this was probably one of the most filling meals since we've got here.."

You and her have a small conversation before Dae-ho comes back over, looking pretty pissed.

"what happened?" you ask him.

He looks at you, his expression softening. "It's nothing baby don't worry about it." he said, not wanting to stress you out anymore.

As your group sat there and talked you ended up falling asleep, using Dae-ho's shoulder as a pillow while he had his arm around your waist, his hand resting on your lap.

You woke up to the sound of the speaker saying players had been eliminated. Confused, you looked at the group. "what happened?"

Gi-hun looked at you and replied. "there must've been a fight."

And he was right. The people on O team soon started saying that X tried to fight them first and the people on the X team saying that O tried to fight them first.

You cuddle closer to Dae-ho, not liking the situation you're in currently. He rubs your side softly as he watches the commotion that is currently going on. While everything is happening, Gi-hun takes the opportunity to tell everyone there is gonna be a fight tonight as how they are all gonna hide until its over and stuff.

You, on the other hand are freaking out, scared for your life, and your baby's. You cuddle into Dae-ho more as he listens to Gi-hun talk and you silently cry. When Dae-ho pulls away to go to the sleeping area, he sees your face.

"hey baby whats wrong are you ok??" He asks worriedly.

"I'm scared..." you admit.

"hey.. look at me.." He makes you look at him. "You know I would never let anything happen to you.. I would protect you with my life..."

You continue crying softly. "But the baby- what if- earlier when I fell my arm hit my stomach really hard so I don't even know if it's ok.."

Dae-ho looks concerned and puts his hand on your bump gently. "Does it hurt at all?" He asks.

"N-not right now but it hurt a lot before-" you stutter.

"Hey.. breathe.. You and the baby will be ok..And I will do everything I possibly can too ensure that.. I promise.." He says softly, now holding your face again.

Your nerves calm down a lot.. You trust him with your life.. you always have so why would he lie now? he would'nt.

He smiles at you and wipes your tears before softly kissing you. You kiss back and it just feels like everything you were scared of before doesn't matter anymore.

Your kiss was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a voice over the speaker, announcing that it was time for bed, followed by the lights flicking off. The abruptness of it snapped you both back to reality, and for a moment, you just sat there, a little dazed. The atmosphere shifted as the intimate moment faded into something more serious. You exchanged a glance with Dae-ho, and without a word, you both made your way toward the sleeping area, the mood now quiet as the both of you sat with the rest of the group and waited for the fight to start like Gi-hun said.

As you all settled in, you felt Dae-ho's arm slip around you, pulling you close. Seeking comfort, you cuddled into him, letting the warmth and safety of his embrace ease your worries. You grew so comfortable, the tension fading, and for a moment, you forgot that danger could be just around the corner. With Dae-ho by your side, you felt secure enough to drift off to sleep, knowing he would protect you. And soon the world outside fading into the background.

a/n: And once again I suck at making endings. but I hope you guys enjoyed! I don't know if ill make a part three unless you guys really want it. But if I did make one I would have to wait till Season 3 comes out or just make up my own ending. what ever you guys prefer!

[lupinqs]

p being an annoying talkative fuck during sex LOL

TALKING TOO MUCH ━━ paige bueckers x reader

☆ ━ summary: paige is too damn talkative during sex

☆ ━ word count: 1.8K

☆ ━ warnings: smut!!!!!!! (strap, r receiving) just porn absolutely no plot

☆ ━ links: my masterlist

☆ ━ author’s note: i wrote this in like 10 minutes sorry if it’s shit lol

AS THE ROOM grows hotter with each passing second, the dim lighting casting long, intimate shadows across the bed, Paige’s body moves in time with yours, your breaths mingling. The weight of Paige against you, the rhythm of her hips, the heat building between you—it’s all you can focus on at first. Paige’s slow, steady thrusts drive you closer and closer to that precipice, each motion precise, purposeful.

But then Paige starts talking.

At first, it isn’t too much—just small murmurs of praise, things like “you feel so good” or “God, I love you.” Words that you’d usually melt over, but tonight, Paige isn’t stopping. Her words come faster, more incessant, and you find yourself struggling to focus. Paige’s voice, usually low and breathless and sinful, fills the space between you, but it’s becoming more of distraction than an enhancement.

“You like that?” Paige asks, her voice breathy but insistent, leaning down to kiss the edge of your jaw between words. “Fuck, mama, you’ve never looked hotter. Seriously. Look so good under me like this. Love seein’ it. D’you want it slower or—?”

“Paige…” Your breath hitches, not from the pleasure but from the interruption. You can feel Paige’s body continuing to move against yours, her strap going in and out of you, but the steady flow of words keep pulling your attention away from the sensation.

Paige presses her lips to your ear, her voice softer now, but still just as persistent. “I just—you’re so perfect, baby. So perfect for me. Can you feel how deep—?”

You let out a soft, exasperated noise, your head tipping back against the pillow as you try to regain your focus, the pleasure that’s been building actually starting to ebb away as Paige keeps on fucking yapping.

Genuinely, you wonder if she has ADHD or something.

“Paige…” you whisper again, a little more firmly this time, trying to guide the blonde back to the moment, back to the your bodies move so perfectly together.

But Paige doesn’t seem to notice. “I—fuck—I love how you feel, ma. It’s just—God, it’s so good, yeah? You’re incredible. Fucking incredible, baby. I could do this all fuckin’ night, seriously, just—”

You can’t take it anymore.

With a quick motion, you reach up and press a hand to Paige’s lips, your fingers gently silencing her mid-sentence. Her eyes widen slightly in surprise, her body stilling for just a moment as she looks down at you, confused.

“Shh,” you murmur, slow but firm, your eyes locking onto Paige’s with an almost amused frustration. Your lips quirk upwards slightly. “Baby, you’re talking too much.”

Paige’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, her lips still caught beneath your hand, but there’s a playful gleam in her eyes, as if she didn’t even realize what she’s been doing.

You don’t give her a chance to respond—or to start talking again. Instead, you pull her face down toward yours, capturing Paige’s lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s deep, slow, and you pour everything you have into it, hoping to redirect Paige’s energy. Your hand slides from the blonde’s lips to the back of her neck, pulling her even closer, deepening the kiss until all you can feel is Paige—her warmth, her breath, the soft moan that escapes her as your tongue slips into her mouth.

Paige seems to get the message.

Her body starts moving again, her hips resuming their slow, deliberate rhythm, but this time, her words are replaced by soft, breathy sounds, the two of you finally beginning to sync. The tension returns, the heat between you rising again, and your focus narrows back to the feeling of Paige moving inside you, the way your bodies are pressed so tightly together, every inch of your skin tingling from the closeness.

Paige pulls back from the kiss just slightly, her lips hovering over yours as she whispers, “Sorry.” Her breath is warm against your mouth, but this time, there’s no rush to speak, just the soft murmur of apology, followed by another kiss, slower, deeper.

You smile against her lips, your frustration melting away as the familiar heat builds within your stomach. You pull Paige closer, your hips moving in perfect sync with here, no more words, no more interruptions. Just the steady rise and fall of breaths, the press of the strap within you, the warmth of Paige’s skin against yours.

This is what you needed tonight—quiet, intimate, just the two of you lost in the moment together. Paige, finally quiet, lets her body do the talking, her movements speaking louder than any words could. Every thrust is slow but purposeful, every kiss a promise, and you feel yourself sinking deeper into the sensation, your body trembling as Paige brings you closer and closer to the edge.

“Better?” Paige whispers after a long moment, her voice softer now, almost teasing as she pulls back just enough to catch your gaze.

You let out a breathless laugh, nodding as you tighten your grip on Paige’s shoulders, pulling her back down for another kiss, unable to form words through the gaze of pleasure building.

The blonde’s hips begin to pick up their pace, the rhythm of her thrusts growing faster and deeper. Your breath quickens, chest rising and falling in fast, shallow breaths. One of your hands falls from Paige’s shoulder to the mattress, your fingers digging into the sheets, gripping tightly.

“Fuck, P,” you gasp out, squeezing your eyes shut. You feel her pinch your hip a little, and it makes your gaze flutter back, locking onto hers, and she’s got this look in her eye that has your nails curling into her shoulder harshly.

Your breath catches as Paige’s next thrust hits deeper, the sound squelching, meeting that perfect spot right inside you. “Mm, so good,” you murmur to her, hand moving from her shoulder to her hair, tugging slightly. “Feels so good… keep doin’ that.”

Paige’s lips brush against your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she kisses her way down the curve of your throat. The soft, wet press of Paige’s mouth against your pulse makes your heart race even faster, the heat in your belly growing more intense with every second. You throw your head back slightly, hair splayed out across the pillow, as a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Yes, like that,” you gasp, body arching up against Paige’s. “Fuck.”

Paige pulls back just enough to look down at you, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. Her eyes glint with amusement and something darker, more teasing. She’s covered in sweat, and she gleams all fucking over. “Who’s the talkative one now, huh?” she whispers, voice low and goading.

Your head snaps forward, eyes narrowing as you shoot Paige a look that’s equal parts frustration and desire. “Shut up,” you whine, the words laced with a mix of need and exasperation. But they’re barely out of your mouth before Paige’s hips move again thrusting hard, and you let out a louder, desperate moan.

Paige’s smirk only deepen, and she doesn’t slow down, doesn’t ease up. She thrusts agin, then again, her damned purple strap hitting that same perfect spot inside you with precision, over and fucking over. Your entire body tenses, your fingers clawing at the sheets as you let out another sharp cry of pleasure.

“God, right there,” you whimper, voice shaking. “Please, P, don’t stop.”

Paige’s lips find your neck again, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear, sending shivers down your spine. She thrusts harder now, her body pressing you deeper into the mattress with each movement, her breath coming in hot, ragged gasps against your skin.

You can feel the tension building within you, your muscles tightening, your breath growing more erratic as Paige continues to slam her hips into yours, unrelenting, perfect. The pleasure could tighter and tighter in your abdomen, ready to snap at any second.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Your voice is barely more than a breathy whimper now, your hips lifting to meet Paige’s every movement, chasing that overwhelming, all-consuming release that’s just out of reach.

Paige pulls away just enough to look right in your eyes, her breath heavy, chest heaving, her lips swollen from the kisses. She rolls her hips again, watching your face contort in pleasure, your body trembling beneath her. A little noise escapes the back of her throat at the wet sound of her strap deep within your pussy.

“You close?” she asks roughly.

You can only nod, your mouth falling open in a soundless moan as Paige hits that spot again, harder this time, sending a shockwave through your entire body.

“Shit, ma,” Paige groans, her words returning as your climax approaches—she always talks the most when you’re about to cum. Her hand holds your hip down as her movements speed up, and the sound of her skin slapping against yours, the squelching of your soaking cunt—it’s overwhelming. “Listen to that. Tellin’ me to be quiet when that pussy screamin’ for me. Screamin’ for my dick. C’mon, now, baby.”

It’s true. The noises resounding from your lower half are loud and you’d probably be embarrassed if you weren’t so fucked out. And it only gets more obscene when her fingers find your clit, rubbing it in quick, sure circles.

“Cum for me, mama,” Paige murmurs, voice soft but commanding as she leans down to kiss your parted lips. “Cum all fuckin’ over me. Needa feel that sweet shit.”

That’s all it takes. Your body arches up off the bed, your back bowing as the pleasure finally snaps, sending you spiraling into a release so intense it leaves you shaking. Your nails dig into the back of Paige’s neck, tugging at her hair, eyes squeezing shut as wave after wave of euphoria washes over you, your entire body trembling beneath Paige’s.

She doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down riding out your orgasm with steady, deep thrusts, her mouth pressed to your neck, whispering praises against your skin.

When the last of the tremors finally subsides, you collapse back against the pillows, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. Paige slows her movements, pulling out gently before rolling onto her side next to you. She slips out of the strap before propping herself up on an elbow as she looks down at you, a soft, smug smile playing at the edges of her lips.

“You good?” she asks tenderly, trailing her fingers soothingly along your arm.

You nod, still trying to calm your breathing, your body feeling deliciously spent. You turn your head to meet Paige’s gaze, lips curling into a lazy, satisfied smile.

“Yeah… just… shut up next time,” you tease, your voice breathy but full of warmth.

Paige chuckles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, her fingers brushing lightly through your damp hair. “I’ll try,” she whispers against your skin, lips lingering.

[cumironi]

MY LITTLE VIRGIN ！ ❞

GOJO SATORU , your used to be upperclassmen who happened to be your friends-with-benefits teaching you how to kiss, also the one who took your virginity.

warning. highschool! gojo satoru ( early twenty and you are nineteen ), virginity lost, fingering, raw/unprotected sex.

wc. 2,8k

“hehe... it's amusing how you're still clueless about kissing,” gojo remarked, seated on your bed. his fingers traced along your neck, gently moving up to your chin. in your friends-with-benefits dynamic, you'd sought gojo's guidance on kissing, a proposition he willingly accepted.

“prepare for the best kiss of your life,” gojo chuckled, leaning in closer to your face. lifting your chin, he gazed at your lips with a playful glint in his eyes. blushing profusely under gojo's intense gaze, you nervously lick your lips. “i'm ready, satoru. . .” your voice wavers slightly as you try to maintain eye contact with him.

gojo smirks at your nervousness, finding it endearing. he leans in, closing the distance between your faces until his breath caresses your skin. gojo's smirk widens as he notices your blush deepening. his thumb gently brushes against your lower lip, parting them slightly. “nervous? there's no need to be. just relax and let me guide you...”

with those words, gojo closes the remaining gap between you. his lips meet yours in a tender yet passionate kiss. his free hand moves to cup your cheek, tilting your head for better access as he deepens the kiss.

after a moment, he pulls back just enough to whisper against your lips, “like this... follow my lead and let instinct take over.” feeling overwhelmed but also strangely exhilarated by gojo's expert touch, you nod, trying to follow his instructions. your hands tentatively reach up to rest on his shoulders, holding onto him for support as he continues to guide you through the kiss.

as he pulls away again, you can't help but whimper softly in protest. but then you see that teasing smile on his lips and realize there's more to come. his blue eyes twinkling with mischief, gojo chuckles softly at your reaction. “oh? did you want more already?”

without waiting for an answer, he captures your lips once again in another searing kiss. this time though, he adds a new element— his tongue slips past your parted lips seeking entrance into your mouth. the sensation is overwhelming and intoxicating all at once. you find yourself responding eagerly, mimicking gojo’s movements as if driven by some primal urge.

pulling back after what seems like eternity but was probably mere seconds, gojo gazes down at you with satisfaction. “see? that wasn’t so bad now was it?” but before giving you time to respond, he leans in once more for another tantalizing kiss.

moaning softly into the kiss, you wrap your arms around gojo's neck, pulling him closer. your body feels electrified from the intimate contact, and you can't get enough of his taste, his scent, the way he makes you feel.

when he finally breaks the kiss again, you're left panting and dazed, struggling to regain your composure. “th-that was... s-satoru,” you manage to stammer out, your cheeks flushed a deep crimson. looking up at gojo with hooded eyes, you bite your lip and murmur, “more please... teach me everything...”

a low chuckle rumbles from within gojo's chest as he takes note of your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing. “mmm... you're quite the eager student aren't you?” he leans down to capture your lips once more in a long, slow kiss that leaves both of you breathless when it ends. pulling back slightly, gojo looks into your eyes with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine.

“i’ll teach you everything... but remember, practice makes perfect. so let's keep practicing until we've perfected this art form together.” and without waiting for another word from you, he dives back into another passionate kiss— this time taking things even further than before.

lost in the whirlwind of sensations, you forget all about being shy or inexperienced. all that matters right now is gojo and the way he makes your entire body tingle.

your hands roam freely across his back, feeling every muscle beneath his shirt. you press yourself closer to him, wanting nothing more than to lose yourself completely in this kiss. every flicker of gojo's tongue against yours sends sparks shooting throughout your body. each brush against your sensitive lips draws moans from deep within your throat.

breaking away from the kiss momentarily, you gasp for air while looking up at gojo with lust-filled eyes. “more... please don't stop...” gojo grins wolfishly at your plea, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you, “as you wish...”

he trails hot kisses along your jawline and down the column of your throat, occasionally nipping lightly at the sensitive skin. one of his hands slides underneath your shirt, skimming over your stomach and ribcage before cupping your breast.

at the same time, his knee nudges your legs apart as he settles himself between them. the pressure of his hips against yours sends jolts of pleasure through your core. returning to your lips, gojo kisses you deeply, passionately, pouring all of his desire into the embrace. when he finally pulls away, you're both panting heavily.

“how do you feel now? ready for round two?”

your mind is foggy with lust, unable to process coherent thoughts beyond the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. all you know is that you crave more of gojo's touch, more of his kisses, more of everything he's doing to you.

arching into his touch, you press your breast harder against his palm, silently begging for more stimulation. your hips buck involuntarily, seeking friction against the hard length of gojo's thigh. when he asks if you're ready for round two, you can only nod frantically, too lost in the haze of pleasure to form words. your lips seek his out once more, demanding another scorching kiss.

this time, as your tongues dance, you start to explore gojo's mouth with yours, learning the contours and depths of him. a satisfied growl escapes gojo as he feels your breasts pressing into his hand and your hips grinding against him. he loves seeing how responsive you are to his touches, how eager you are for more.

sliding one finger down from your breast, he teases along the waistband of your pants before dipping beneath the fabric. his digit traces lazy circles against your heated flesh, drawing soft whimpers from deep within your throat.

breaking off from the kiss, gojo looks down at you with a burning desire in his eyes. “let's make sure this second round is even better than the first...” with those words, he plunges two fingers inside you, curling them upwards to stroke that sweet spot hidden within. at the same time, his thumb finds its way to your clit and begins circling slowly around it.

“feel good?”

a loud moan tears itself from your throat as gojo's fingers delve deeper, hitting spots inside you that you didn't even know existed. your back arches off the bed, pushing your chest towards him. his thumb on your clit is pure torture— each circle sending waves of pleasure radiating outward. it feels incredible, too much and not nearly enough all at once.

your nails dig into gojo's back, leaving red marks where they claw at his skin. “‘toru. . .” you gasp out between moans, “feels so good...” your hips move instinctively against his hand, chasing after that elusive climax that seems tantalizingly close but always just out of reach.

gojo's eyes darken with lust as he watches you writhe beneath him, your face contorted in pleasure. he loves seeing you like this— completely uninhibited and at his mercy. “that's it baby, let go. give in to the pleasure...”

he increases the speed of his fingers, pumping them in and out of you at a rapid pace. his thumb presses down firmly on your clit, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. gojo leans down to capture one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just hard enough to mix pain with pleasure. his other hand grips your hip tightly, holding you in place as he drives you closer and closer to the edge.

“come for me. i want to feel you fall apart on my fingers.”

the combination of gojo's relentless fingering and relentless thumbing sends shockwaves of ecstasy crashing through your body. every thrust of his fingers, every circle of his thumb pushes you higher and higher until there's no turning back. a strangled cry rips from your throat as you finally tip over the edge. your walls clench around gojo's fingers in rhythmic spasms, pulsating with each wave of orgasmic bliss that washes over you.

your entire world narrows down to the feeling of gojo's fingers inside you and his thumb working magic on your clit. the pleasure is so intense, so overpowering that it threatens to consume you whole. as the last tremors subside, you collapse back onto the bed— spent yet utterly satisfied.

gojo continues to pump his fingers slowly inside you as you come down from your high, milking every last drop of your release. once your spasms have ceased, he withdraws his fingers with a satisfied smirk.

“look at you, coming undone so beautifully for me. you took your lesson well, i must say.”

he brings his fingers to his lips, sucking your essence off them with a low hum of appreciation. “delicious. . .” leaning over you, gojo captures your lips in a deep, sensual kiss, letting you taste yourself on him. after a moment, he pulls back with a mischievous glint in his eye, “but we're far from done, sweetheart. there are still plenty more lessons to be learned... and i'm just getting started.”

even though you're still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, a fresh wave of arousal surges through you at gojo's words. the thought of what else he might teach you sends tingles racing down your spine.

you manage to push myself up onto your elbows, your heavy-lidded gaze locked onto gojo's handsome face. “show me, teach me everything...” without waiting for him to respond, you reach down and unbutton your pants with shaky hands. the cool air hits my overheated skin as you peel off your clothes piece by piece, exposing more and more of yourself to gojo’s hungry eyes.

your heart pounds wildly in your chest as you lay bare before him— vulnerable yet filled with anticipation for whatever comes next. watching you strip off your clothes, gojo's cock twitches eagerly against his own trousers. he lets out a low chuckle, admiring the sight of your flushed skin and swollen breasts.

“i love seeing you like this— open and willing. it's incredibly arousing...” he moves closer, his blue eyes darkening with lust as he takes in every inch of exposed flesh. reaching out, he runs a single finger down the center line of your body from collarbone to belly button, savoring the sensation of your smooth skin under his touch.

“now, let's see how well you can please someone.”

with that said, gojo starts unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. his throbbing member springs free— long and thick— standing proudly erect against his lower abdomen.

“are you ready to take me on?”

your breath hitches in your throat as you watch gojo undo his belt and unzip his trousers. the sight of his erect member makes your pussy clench in longing. in response to his question, you nod vigorously, unable to form words due to the intense desire clouding your senses.

you reach out tentatively towards him, wanting nothing more than to wrap your fingers around his shaft and guide it towards your needy entrance. but instead of taking control, you wait patiently for him to initiate contact again.

as you lie there before him— naked and wanting— anticipation builds within you like never before, finally realizing that gojo is going to be the one who took your virginity. gojo smirks at your eagerness, enjoying the way you stare hungrily at his manhood. he steps out of his trousers and kicks them aside, revealing himself fully to you.

“there's no need to rush... we've got all night.”

he positions himself between your spread legs, leaning down to tease the head of his cock against your slick folds. the tip rubs gently against your clit, spreading your wetness across both areas. looking up into your eyes, gojo gives you a wicked grin, “relax and enjoy the ride...”

slowly, he begins pushing into you— stretching your tight walls deliciously wide around him. each inch that enters fills you up more completely than anything ever has before.

“feels fucking amazing doesn’t it?”

“fuck!” you cried in pain the moment he's bottomed out inside you. your nails digging into his biceps and eyes tightly shut from the pain of your virginity being taken with his massive cock.

at your sharp intake of breath and pained cry, gojo pauses for a moment, giving you time to adjust to the sudden fullness. he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, offering reassurance despite the fierce grip of your nails on his arms.

“shh, it's okay... just breathe. you're doing great.”

once you seem more comfortable, he carefully starts to rock his hips, withdrawing slightly before pressing back in at a slower, more controlled pace. the movement helps ease the initial discomfort, gradually building the pleasurable friction between your joined bodies.

“see? this isn't so bad, is it? in fact, it feels pretty damn good already...” as gojo starts moving, the initial pain begins to fade, replaced by an unfamiliar but not unpleasant sensation. it's almost like your body is remembering how to accommodate something so large inside you.

you manage a weak nod, still struggling to catch your breath, “y-yeah... it's okay now. . .” emboldened by the gentle rhythm, you start to move your hips in sync with gojo's, meeting him thrust for thrust. a soft moan escapes your lips as the pressure builds anew, this time centered on the sweet spot deep within you that he seems to hit perfectly with every stroke.

mindlessly, you tangle your fingers in his white hair, pulling him down for a desperate, clinging kiss as if trying to merge your very souls together through the intimate act. gojo grins against your lips, pleased by your growing responsiveness. he deepens the kiss further, tasting your sweetness while continuing his steady thrusts.

“that's right... let go and feel everything...”

he breaks away from the kiss only to trail hot kisses down along your jawline and neck. with each downward stroke of his tongue against sensitive skin, he matches it with another slow plunge into your welcoming depths.

feeling your inner muscles clenching around him drives gojo wild; he can tell that despite being a novice at sex, you were born for this kind of pleasure. the combination of gojo's relentless thrusts and teasing kisses sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. your mind becomes a blur of sensations— the feeling of him filling you completely, the sound of his low growls echoing in your ears, even the scent that surrounds you is intoxicating.

a loud gasp tears itself from your throat as he finds that perfect spot again and again, causing sparks to fly behind your closed eyelids, “oh god! ’toru. . .”

your entire focus narrows down to the point where they connect— it's overwhelming but also addictive. you find yourself arching up into him instinctively, urging him deeper.

“please don't stop. . .”

hearing you beg for more spurs gojo on, his movements becoming more urgent and powerful. he grips your hips firmly, using the leverage to piston into you at a frenzied pace.

“fuck, you feel incredible, so tight and wet for me.” his harsh breathing mingles with yours as he chases his impending climax, driven mad by the exquisite sensation of your velvety walls gripping his cock. “gonna fill you up so g-good, baby, mark you as mine...”

gojo's thrusts grow erratic as he nears the edge, his balls drawing up tight against his body. with a final, brutal shove, he buries himself to the hilt inside you and holds still, roaring out his release as hot jets of cum flood your insides.

your whole body trembles violently beneath gojo as his seed floods your womb. the intense heat and pressure trigger an explosive orgasm in you, sending shockwaves of pure bliss radiating outward from your core.

your inner walls clench and flutter around his pulsing length, milking him for all he's worth. a strangled scream rips from your throat as wave after wave crashes over you, leaving you drenched in sweat and utterly spent.

“oh fuck! s-ah!atoru!”

as reality slowly comes back into focus, you realize just how deeply connected you two are at this moment— physically, emotionally and spiritually. there's no turning back now; you've been claimed by him in every possible way.

collapsing onto you, gojo lets out a satisfied sigh as he rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm. he plants tender kisses along your collarbone and chest, marking you as his own in ways beyond mere physical possession.

“that was... incredible.”

still buried deep within you, he slowly starts to withdraw from your clenching walls, allowing them to stretch and contract around his softening member. each pull sends another jolt of pleasure through your system, prolonging the high.

“feel better now?”

despite having just given you the most intense experience of your life, gojo looks at you with genuine concern and affection. after he collapses onto you, his heavy weight provides a comforting warmth against your cooling skin. his chest rises and falls rapidly against your breasts, matching the frantic beating of your heart.

despite the exhaustion seeping into every fiber of your being, there’s an undeniable satisfaction that settles deep within you. you run your fingers lazily through his disheveled hair, feeling proud yet vulnerable at having given yourself so completely to him.

“that was... incredible,” you murmur softly, give him a tired smile, looking up into those captivating blue eyes filled with raw desire and affection.

with a contented sigh, gojo leans down to capture your lips in a tender, lingering kiss. his tongue sweeps against yours softly, savoring the taste of you mixed with the musk of their combined arousal.

“mmm, i knew you'd be amazing...”

he pulls back slightly to gaze into your eyes, his expression a mix of pride, adoration, and possessiveness, “you're mine now, in every sense of the word. never forget that.” gojo rolls off of you and gathers you close, cradling your body against his as he strokes your hair soothingly, “rest now, my little virgin. we've got a lifetime of pleasure ahead of us.”

nestled securely in gojo's embrace, you let out a happy sigh, feeling safe and cherished in his strong arms. your eyelids grow heavy as the aftermath of your intense lovemaking washes over you, lulling you into a peaceful slumber.

in your dreams, you see flashes of the future— moments stolen from time, memories made with gojo, and a love that transcends the boundaries of life and death. when you awaken, you know without a doubt that you belong to him, and he to you, forevermore.

as you drift off to sleep nestled against him, gojo watches over you protectively. he runs his hand gently across your back, marveling at how different things could have turned out had he not intervened earlier today.

but fate brought you here, together. and though he may be many things— powerful mage, leader of jujutsu high school— nothing compares to how much he cares for this fragile human girl now lying trustingly beside him.

he smiles softly as he listens to your quiet breathing, knowing that whatever challenges await them both, they will face them side by side. for better or worse, you are his now.

“sleep well, my love.”