#f: heart hunter

[kykyonthemoon]

Red Stains

You've got a new lipstick and can't wait to test out the color,

on his face.

✧ — Character x F!Reader ✧ — 16+, MDNI, suggestive themes, established relationships, soft fluff, touchy, marking ✧ — Requested by Wytchie Pie.

✿ Masterlist

✿ Request a fic

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

While Caleb was in the living room playing his video game, you walked in with a new lipstick. It was hard not to tease him more when you saw how committed he was to the game. Reaching him from behind the couch, you put your arms around his neck and raised his chin to meet your gaze. You leaned down to give his left cheek a kiss. Then you hurried out of the room.

Though a little taken aback, Caleb simply grinned to himself and carried on playing the game. Not even your scarlet lipstick on his cheek did he notice.

After a while, you returned to the room. You interrupted his match again like the first time and gave him another kiss, this time on the right cheek. With a scowl, Caleb warned you: "Don't be naughty."

But you did not listen. You went into the bathroom again to apply another layer of lipstick. When would he find out that his face was covered with your lip stains? He had such a cute and goofy expression. Should you not tell him, would people laugh at him when he got out at last?

Being laughed at was his punishment. For playing games all afternoon and paying no attention to you. You went back to the living room, sneakily behind the sofa again and encircled him with your arms...

All of a sudden, he grabbed your wrist, bending you over. He leaned his head back to touch your lips and locked it with a kiss. Surprised, you leaped back and attempted to flee. After hurling the console onto the chair, Caleb got up, circled the couch, and seized you.

His hands clamped around your waist, making you turn to face him. “I told you not to be naughty.”

As you looked at the screen with the large word DEFEATED displayed, you laughed. In response, you said:

“You lost because you're terrible at this game. It's not my fault.”

“You're still in the mood to tease me?”

Caleb made an angry face, but all you saw was a cute guy with two lipstick marks on his face. He still held you tightly in his arms to prevent you from escaping. He gently lifted you up so that your bare feet rested on his.

“You tried the lipstick marking thing on my face again, didn't you”

"How do you know that?"

“I can smell it.” Caleb smirked. He could position you against the couch with style in only one spin.

“Caleb?” You were a bit surprised. He still refused to let you go but pressed closer to you.

“Make amends.” Caleb said, his voice a bit coy, making you blush. Normally, it's you who wheedle.

"What kind of compensation do you want?..." You hesitated, but you had good reason to be concerned. Because as soon as you finished speaking, you felt a bit regretful when Caleb suddenly attacked you with a passionate kiss.

When he finally let go to let you catch your breath, he rubbed your head, causing your hair to go untidy. Your fingers still lingered on his shoulder, and your red lips seemed to be inviting for another kiss. Caleb could not let you win that quickly. He stepped back and said:

“Everything always goes your way. That's how it's been all along since childhood. I can't keep spoiling you forever.”

Feeling a little let down, you gazed into his eyes. Caleb's face had brilliant lipstick traces that your fingertips touched.

"Are you sure?" You inquired, and then you hurried to put both of your arms around his neck without waiting for him to respond. You raised your torso and enveloped his waist with your legs. All he could do was hold you, and then you would attack him with powerful, determined kisses.

Caleb laughed while you pulled your lips away long enough to take a breath. He was defeated, again and again. After all, he would always let you win.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊���𝒓

You finished your makeup that day with a little red lipstick on the lips. Satisfied with the new lipstick and cosmetics Tara had just recommended, you glanced in the mirror. But when you turned to Xavier,you saw him dozing off on the edge of the bed. He was still seated, but his back was resting on a stack of pillows and his hand was gripping the plush bunny named Bunbun.

You intended to wake him up, but as you approached, his innocent face and soft snoring made you want to give him a little playful nudge. You placed yourself on the edge of the bed, as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up. Then you pressed your lips to his cheek, leaving a red lip stain.

Leaning back slightly, you waited for Xavier to stir, but he remained deep sleeping. You impatiently placed a kiss on his other cheek. Then one on the forehead, another on the chin... Just like that, soon light and dark lipstick smears were all over his face.

You gulped back a laugh. He was certain to become uneasy upon awakening. Unexpectedly, you were taken by surprise as well. His eyes were barely open when his fingers snatched your wrists and pushed you against the bed.

"Xavier?" You let out a startled exclamation. You felt his body pressing on yours, immobilizing you. He could easily lock both of your wrists together, forcing them above your head and holding them there with only one hand.

You raised your gaze to Xavier's face which was covered by lipsticks. Gradually, he opened his eyes. He was still drowsy, but he was fully aware of the damage you had just caused to his heavenly face.

“I can't believe you sneaked up on me while I was sleeping.”

You giggled, looking apologetic: “I'm sorry. Because… you look so cute when you sleep!”

Xavier pretended not to hear your apology. He tightened his hold on the area that was holding your wrist, and you let out a quiet cry. His other hand freely explored your face and his fingers paused at your lips.

"Your lip color has changed."

Xavier was always sensitive to even the tiniest changes in you. It gave you the impression that he was concerned about you and valued you. You gave a nod.

“And you brought my face out to test your new lipstick?” Xavier questioned. You became aware that his body was gradually dropping and encroaching onto yours.

"I've already... apologized," Your cheeks heated with his breath.

"That doesn't count." Xavier gave a sulky reply. "There will be an equal cost for you to pay."

"H-Huh?

Xavier leaned down and pressed his cool lips to your cheek, leaving a scorching, tingling trail.

“One here.” Xavier said, then he proceeded to kiss the other cheek. “Another here.”

“X-Xavier…” You made an effort to resist and came very close to escaping him. But your wrists were held even tighter. The other hand Xavier was holding around your neck tensed as well. 

"Be good!" Although his voice was still very gentle, you caught his impatience, almost like a command.

And you lied still, submitting to his authority as he inked your face with his own lip marks. On the forehead, nose, cheeks and chin. He planted a kiss on your face in precisely the same spot and sequence as you had just given him. You started to get a sense that Xavier wasn't actually asleep, and you were naive to fall right into the trap that was set up by his innocent expression.

At the same time, you relished the sensation of being beneath Xavier, his body heat enveloping you, and the sound of his breathing in your ear blended with every kiss.

The last kiss just ended. As you struggled to catch your breath, you said:

“A-Are you done? Can you…Can you let me go now?…”

The truth was, you never want him to let go. Xavier simply glanced at you and felt your emotions. He lifted your chin again so you could look into his eyes, while he gently parted your lips with this thumb.

“Did I say I would let you go?”

Your eyes seemed to be blurred by the heat between you both. You arched your head back a little, longing for his lips to meet yours once more. Xavier smiled triumphantly as his finger lightly slid across your lips, smearing a small amount of your lipstick out.

“You should have known there is a price for waking me up like that.”

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

That evening, while you were getting ready for the date, Rafayel showed up. He took a seat next to you and began fiddling with the makeup items on the table. His long fingers stroke the blush in the box, he waved it in the air, enjoying the color in his hand.

"Look at this. My hands are now the same color as your cheeks.”

You turned to look at Rafayel. He gave you a mischievous smile. With his other hand, he gently lifted your chin.

“Let me help you,” said Rafayel. You obediently sat still so he could apply the pink blush that was already on his hand to your cheeks, although you were certain that they were already pink even before applying makeup.

"Very lovely. The peach hue draws attention to your smile.” Rafayel exclaimed. "Even though you don't need makeup to look beautiful."

You smiled heartily. His lips were always so sweet, giving you more confidence. I had never seen yourself more beautiful than when you were next to him. Even without saying it out loud, the way he looked at you always made you feel like you were the most exquisite painting his eyes had ever laid upon.

“I'm almost done. All that's left is lipstick." You said while taking out a brand new lipstick from your purse. “Tara said this color would go very well with me.”

Rafayel took the lipstick from your hand and looked at its color through the transparent glass cover. Then he gave it back to you. “Go ahead and try it on.” He spoke excitedly, as if he was the one using this lipstick.

You twisted the cap open, applied a layer and pressed your lips together to spread the lipstick evenly. “Mmmh.” Before you could look closely, Rafayel anxiously put his palm on your cheek and drew you in.

“Let me see it...” Rafayel's fingertips playfully caressed across your face and ears while you held your breath. "Red. It truly does fit you perfectly.”

His thumb traced a line down the border of your lower lip, giving you a ticklish feeling. You could not focus because of how near his face was. You gently closed your eyes, then when he was too preoccupied staring at your lips, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

“You?!” Rafayel was startled. He withdrew his hand and touched the place you just kissed. A scarlet set of lips like a blossoming flower revealed itself on Rafayel's porcelain face.

"If you don't let me see my lipstick color in the mirror, I'll borrow your face to try it on." You laughed in response.

“What do you mean by that?”

As soon as he finished speaking, Rafayel was left with another lip mark on his cheek, just below the previous one. His eyebrows frowned slightly. His cheeks and ears were scarlet, he couldn't hide his embarrassment anymore.

“That is excessive.” Rafayel mumbled, yet behind that salty expression was a wry smirk. You applied another layer of lipstick on your lips to replace the first layer that had mostly faded. You commented:

“This lipstick tastes somewhat as sweet as candy.”

Hearing that, Rafayel immediately raised his face. He held your chin tightly in his hand and brought it very close.

“Really? I'd like to give it a shot as well.”

After saying so, he put his lips to yours. Before you could protest, you felt a slight pain in your bottom lip as you opened your eyes wide.

“R-Rafayel!” You gasped when he left your lips. Your lipstick was lightly on his lips as he licked it lightly.

“It does taste like candy!”

His mysterious expression confused you. You covered your mouth with both hands and reprimanded: "You just bit me!"

With a sly smile, Rafayel tipped his head and said, "I was only curious to taste your lipstick. Then, I realized something…”

Suddenly he came close to you again. His hand pulled yours down to reveal your red face and slightly swollen, color-smeared lips. He spoke again:

“You taste sweeter than any candy!”

Unsure of how to react, you observed Rafayel get back up. You followed him because you assumed he was going to head to the restaurant that you two had reserved. Just as you were getting up from the chair, Rafayel abruptly pulled you back and seated you entirely on the dressing table.

"Where are you going?" He asked while burying his face in your shoulder and hair.

“To our date?… We're already late…”

Rafayel's dissatisfaction was evident from his facial expression. He glanced back at you, his finger tracing across your lips as if he was painting a picture himself.

"The plan has changed."

He kissed you once more, and this time, the long kisses were broken up by little, painless bites that made you weak in the knees and found it hard to breathe. You pushed Rafayel back a little so he could slow down while leaning your back against the frigid mirror. However, the more you did so, the more he devoured your red lips.

“We can save that restaurant for another time… For now, let's stay here, okay?”

He said between rapid breaths. You nodded slightly. How could you refuse, when all your luscious lips wanted was him?

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

During Zayne's lunch break, you stayed in his office to make sure he ate enough and on time. It could also be said otherwise; it's him who made sure you're full and rest well before returning to the headquarters.

After lunch, Zayne sat reading a book on the sofa. You thought you would get out your new lipstick and give it a little play since you had nothing better to do. You barely learned the fundamental techniques and were too busy fighting Wanderers to wear makeup frequently. But the other day, Tara had just given you a new lipstick and said that this color would look good on you.

You put on a light layer. Since Zayne's workplace lacked a mirror, you turned to him and inquired, "How do I look?"

Zayne merely gave you a quick glance before turning back to the book.

"Alright."

"Alright?!" You said it again. By that, what did he mean? It was "okay" rather than beautiful? Yet, he couldn't even look at you for more than a second. You were a little hurt. You twisted the lipstick cap again and applied another layer.

"What about this?" You inquired with him once more. However, Zayne quickly responded with a "Mmhhh" to end the conversation. You turned your gaze from him to the book he was holding. It took away all of his attention, which he should be giving to you.

Refusing to give in to such an inanimate object, you turned completely to Zayne, pulled him back and pressed your lips to his cheek.

You released your grip, revealing your trophy — a vivid red lipstick mark — on his icy face. However, he continued to glare at you without saying anything. His hand turned the book to a new page and as if nothing had happened, he ignored you once again.

“You…” You let out a sigh. You knew he had his own concerns, but were angry at the thought that you were not important, not attractive enough for him, unlike a medical book. You gave it another go, kissing him very close to the lips this time.

Zayne breathed heavily. Although the expression on his face remained unchanged, you caught his hands holding the book trembling slightly.

“There is a medical appointment that I must attend in an hour. This kind of abuse on my face is unacceptable."

You felt like you had won when he closed the book and put it back on the table.

“Okay, let me tidy it up for you.” Grinning, you got up to grab the tissue box.  But you were drawn back by a strong force that very moment. Suddenly you found yourself sitting completely on Zayne's lap. His sinewy arms encircled your waist securely.

“If you want to leave marks on me…” You heard Zayne whispering so softly from behind. “You need to be a little more considerate.”

You sat still and let Zayne turn you around, facing him. Your heart was beating very fast. At this rate, before another patient came to see him, he would have to treat you first. You tried to stay calm in front of him and questioned:

“More considerate? Do you recommend any other spot then?” Your hand briefly touched Zayne's cheek before descending gently. You stared intently, lifting his chin. As you cuddled on his lap, little against the toned shoulders he covered beneath his shirt, Zayne shifted both of your legs so they were more comfortably positioned on the sofa.

Your fingertips paused at his neck, verging on his Adam's apple. You caught it moving slightly. “Or this spot?”

Zayne was clearly making every effort to maintain the residual calm on his face. His eyes were staring at you intensely from behind his glasses, as though he was granting you permission to do that.

And you leaned up to place a kiss there.

You heard a cough come from Zayne. He looked at you, extremely miserable. But you put your hand on the lipstick mark on his neck as if admiring another of your trophies. It did not stop there. You still wanted more, wanted to know what he would do if you went a little further...

Your index finger slid from his neck to his chest and stopped just above his heart.

“Doctor Zayne, your heart is racing.”

Your laughter was as crisp as sunshine in the room, increasing the temperature. Zayne took your hand, neatly holding it in his scarred one. He spoke, but you caught his trembling even though he was very discreet:

“Can you... cure me then?”

Your finger gently tapped on his chest. "Of course." You would always like it when Zayne let me be in charge, asking you to take care of him little by little. His hand loosened slightly, allowing you to freely find the buttons of his shirt and undo them.

Then, you put another crimson mark on his bare chest.

[blee-bleep]

is it bad when i say i wanted them to be together more?

[drabbles-of-writing]

“Amity and Hunter maul each other” listen to me carefully we were all FOOLS. Luz and Hunter maul each other on the living room floor and yes biting IS on the table. Amity and Hunter are competitive rivals who are extremely sassy and petty when they talk shit. They are the only people in the entire family who can say the most SCATHING out of pocket things to each other and take it as friendly banter.

Make no mistake, sometimes it would result in a brawl, but these two are such near-mirrors of each other that it’s never serious and they think they’re hilarious. "How’s the divorce?” “Horrendous. How’s the face?” is a greeting they’ll have at like 8 in the morning and give everyone instantaneous cardiac arrest

[clownishstarfish]

[pinky-in-blankets]

Pebbles: "Oh my.. these little beings are Sparkling-! ✨️"

Modo: "What are they..? Giant bugs?"

Reala: "Tch. We're Faries, obviously."

NiGHTS: "I'm NiGHTS, The Spring fairy! And this is Reala, The Winter fairy. We're here to help guide you brave heroes to the castle and defeat the wicked king!"

[janarchy00]

the gentle words describing other people. when f.scott fitzgerald said 'for she had always talked in broken clauses' and carson mccullers said 'he saw blount burned by a rich, red brown by the sun' and when donna tartt said 'but there was something sultry and exciting and tough about her too: an animal strength, a purring, prowling quality when she was out of her heels and walking barefoot,' so raw, so real, i hope sometimes people might look at me and read the poetry of what i am

[pixelated-jellifishi]

hi rook! what are some of your favorite things about pudding? 💌

Bonjour!~ Ah yes, mon amour, where do I start? Her beauty is a given, and unlike any other. Who could blame me for admiring or wanting a closer look? She's akin to a golden swan, her radiant shine catches the eye and you simply can't look away!~ Despite her quiet nature, she is quite passionate!~ Mon trickster is so cute when you can get her talking about fish in particular. The way she gets so easily riled up and flustered. You should see her face when she blushes! Oui, she might go redder than Roi des Roses! But I think my favorite thing about her is the way she makes me feel when I’m around her. My heart still flutters every time I see her, even after all this time~

[reshinless]

──── see me, see me not

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. in which kinich takes his headwear off, and puts it on you (in a different way)

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich x gn!afab!reader,!!NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!

⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. i have a feeling he would not gonna lie :pray:

"p- please.. kin- t'fast.." is all you could whimper out as kinich swallowed at the sight of your pretty body being used- slamming himself into your red, puffy hole from behind. each heavenly thrust only making you throw your head back in everlasting pleasure

both your breathy moans filled the space you both stayed in- kinich who just groans your name, the red bow-like marks made from his nails as he left a breathy gasp, almost like catching his breath still. his stares at how well your entrance took him drove him frantic.

"oh f-fffuck.." is all you could hear, kinich's headwear comfortably over your eyes— the beads of sweat on both your forehead's scent only brimming the room. feeling a pair of two fingers come to your mouth- "suck." a raspy voice emits from behind you.

kinich who overhears mualani stepping into the lobby outside the small room he unconveniently chose. "kinich! where are you?!" is heard visibly throughout the halls as he holds your hips close, pushing you up against the wall from your previous position of simply bending over and taking his cock :o

"quiet, baby." is all you hear, kinich who still won't take the blindfold off of your eyes, yet he just oh-so accidently grinds his cock against your g-spot. his fingers in your mouth, as you bite down on them a little as he tries to keep your volume to a minimum while still giving you as much pleasure as possible.

your heart raced as mualani reached for the knob of the door before someone from outside called her for help, making her leave effectively. kinich who loved the adrenaline of almost being caught, only letting the moans escape your glossy lips as he finally released his fingers from your mouth— "ahh— shit sweetheart, that's right.. ssshitt..." he groaned from behind.

the way you start to clench around him with his merciless thrust keeping its pace, oh he's gonna cum in you. whining as you feel him changing the position again, this time to his favorite- missionary.

wherein he secures your thighs around his waist, his strength keeping you up on the wall, you can hear each little squelch, every little plop. "yeeaahh.. that's right, pretty." hearing your wails of pleasure, leaning down to mark you around your collarbone as he kept up the violent strikes, watching the way you fumble your hands anywhere you could, not being able to see what he was doing, you're so pretty, he wished you could see that for yourself.

"uhuh? ffuck.. yeah you gonna come baby?" his teasing tone into the shell of your ear, feeling his warm breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine, your hips quavered at his actions, you were already starting to see stars.

the way he hit you so raw, you feel as if you'll be snapped in half soon, his tight grip on your waist, and securing your legs to attach his torso, if he doesn't slow down you might just crack! the insane amount of stamina you gain after working as a hunter for so long definitely is a ton. drilling his cock into you, feeling every inch inside of you, every vein come in and out.

he huffs "shit you feel.. s' good pretty.. so fffuckin' good.." —you can smell every detail on him, the floral smell he always has on that he promises isn't on purpose, mixed with the moist, and musky scent of your swear (& his).

kinich, with a long groan, "just one more, baby.. just one moreee.." who's been saying that for the past 3 hours, but who can blame him when he just can't get enough of you. cumming inside you for about the fifth time already! who wouldn't cum with the way you clench down onto his cock with your velvety entrance, or the way you'd scratch at his back (after finally finding where he was), claw marks that looks of a beast. who wouldn't cum, seeing how much your entrance was talking to him, luring him in, so wet and ready for him, you were practically made for him, and his cock.

how many times has he emptied himself into you? can't count. how many times have you come on his dick alone? can't count either. how many hours has it been? stop asking me questions!

watching the way your back arched as you moaned out his name, the way you legs shivered, the intense heavenly feeling of getting to cum with you was more passionate than anything he's done in the past. he hadn't even realized the way your juices squirted everywhere!

"huh.. that's the first time i've seen you do that."

...

"wanna do that again?"

kinich weapon alert !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (i have no resin sighh)

[twinksrepository]

Post training workout

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Sylus X F!Reader

CW: Smut, smut with Feelings, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Pain, Foot Massage, Drinking, flirting, Dirty Talk, Grinding, Neck Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm, Hair-pulling, Condoms, Biting, Clothed Sex, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Big dick, Begging, Rough Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Finger Sucking, Overstimulation, Aftercare

Word count: Roughly 7K

A/N: Sylus keeps saying you need to get better at dodging, and you take him up on his offer for some training. Afterwards, he has a bit of a different workout in mind for you.

I am down bad for this man, and after seeing that workout quality time well this settled in my brain. I'd say I'm sorry, but I am anything but.

Prefer AO3? You can read it here.

You let out a squawk as you find yourself on your back once more looking up at the black ceiling while your chest heaves and the sweat drips down along your neck. “If you think you’re impressing me, Sweetie you’re doing a poor job of it.” You bite your tongue to keep yourself from retorting verbally at him. You’ve lost track of how many times in the last hour Sylus has knocked you on your ass, all under the pretense of training. 

The slightest pressure of his foot against yours as he makes a tapping motion against the inside portion of your sneaker. “Back up on your feet, it’s not break time yet.” 

You let out a noise of frustration instead of moving, still staring at the ceiling as you try to slow your breathing and catch your breath. “I thought you said you’d help me train, Sylus? This is just you sending me to the floor.” 

“It is training.” The blackness in your field of view was replaced by a rather attractive face with a sharp jawline and two garnet eyes staring down at you, the corner of his mouth turned upward just enough to be called a playful smirk. “At this point, I’m not sure how you’ve managed to evade being skewed by wanderers Miss Hunter.” His voice teases as he looks down at you, yet the longer you remain on your back that smirk fades into a look of neutrality. “Get up Sweetie.” There’s no doubting the annoyance in those three short words. 

You grumble as his face disappears from overhead but you roll over onto your side in order to get your feet under you before standing. A few rotations of your shoulders and hops in place to try and loosen the bruised muscles along your body. A distraction from the pain racing along your butt and lower back.

“Really?” A single eyebrow raised as he watched you before giving a chuckle, brushing his damp hair away from his eyes. It doesn’t matter how sore you feel, or how fast your heart has been racing, yet that one motion has the tempo increasing. The muscles of your face widened into a grin that you’re sure if you had a mirror you’d see a smile akin to those on the female lead in romance movies when she thinks the heartthrob isn’t looking. “Keep smiling like that Sweetie and you’ll be back where you were in no time.” Too bad this isn’t a movie and Sylus never seems to miss anything. 

“I still don’t see how this is training.” Your smile fades as you quirk your nose, sliding your right foot out to take the proper stance with your weight forward and lifting both of your arms so your wrapped fists are in front of you. Just like he had taught you a while back when you had been throwing what you thought were proper punches at the bag hanging in his personal gym. 

“Simple. You’re terrible at dodging Sweetie, this is meant to help you get better.” 

“You keep knocking me on my ass!” Dropping your hands and losing your pose as you stomp your foot at him. It sounds more like he’s been enjoying seeing you sprawled out on the floor. 

“You’re just proving my point.” The moment your guard dropped he sprung, a quick jab to get you to move. At least you could read the flow of his arm to see it’s a feint, shifting your weight and throwing your arms up as you sidestep the sweep of his leg. “Ah, the kitten can learn.” Stepping back with his hands in front of himself before he throws another punch, one you block well aware he’s holding back even as the sting from the impact races down your arm. “I was starting to wonder if that first bit of light sparring when you got me to take a knee was an accident.” 

“You’re so funny.” Watching his movements as you remain on the defensive, taking the openings he leaves you aware he’s trying to lull you into a false sense of security. A soft hum of approval as you keep moving, the sweat running down your neck as the bottom of your tied back hair bounces between your shoulders. Your breathing grows more ragged the longer you keep up the momentum of blocking and dodging. 

“Just pretend I’m a wanderer as your breathing gets heavier, they won’t let up unlike me.” Smirking as he switches tactics, throwing faster punches. It’s hard to focus when you can see the fine sheen of sweat on his skin fly off as he moves. Precise and quick. 

“You know how to let up?” Panting the words as you twist out of the way of another attempt on his part to put you on your back. Grinning as you jab with your right watching those crimson eyes of his on your hand, this time you’re going to put him on his back! A swift surge forward of your left leg to the inside of his to try and hook his inner calf to put him off balance. 

Except he clearly saw through your bluff, turning to the side and grabbing your fist in his hand, making use of your moment to let you swing yourself around so your back is pressed against his chest. “I may be merciless, but I stand by my morals of not taking advantage of the weak.” Your shirt is plastered to your back from the liquid pouring from you because of the workout, yet you can feel the fluid trapped in his black tank top seeping into the dry portions. “A kitten needs to play fight in order to learn how to use its claws after all.” 

Something in his voice makes you shiver, or it could be the way his breath washes down over the cartilage and cooling the area. As much as you like to banter with him you realize during this entire workout he’s just been playing with you. “You mean I’m covered in bruises for nothing!?” 

“Of course not.” Chuckling again Sylus doesn’t let go of your hand, instead dropping his chin atop your head. “You keep reminding me how I can’t go on missions with you when you’re working, if I can’t keep you safe I need to make sure you get better at looking after yourself, Sweetie.” 

His words have your slowing heart speeding up again, your stomach clenching in response to the bluntness of it. A reminder that as much as the words he does speak never say it, he does care for you and you’re starting to realize it isn’t just a passing fancy of his. That his feelings run a lot more than skin deep. Parting your lips as you get ready to retort, only for an alarm to start to beep from outside the padded area. 

“Times up.” Releasing you at last, you turn to watch his stride towards the device to cease the noise. “You showed some improvements, but you could always do with more training.” Smirking in your direction before his eyes rake over your form. “Now go have a shower.” Tossing a towel from the bench at you that obscures your vision as it unfolds and lands on your head. 

“Sylus!” Only to find him gone as you pull the fabric away, huffing as you leave the gym towards the room that serves as yours within his home. “Here’s hoping the hot water helps with my muscles, I’m already starting to hurt.” 

As you hobbled your way into the living room, the hot water from your shower hadn’t done anything to help with the tightening of your muscles. If you hurt like this now, you’re not looking forward to what you’re going to wake up to tomorrow. It didn’t help your mood that you could already see the distinct changing of the skin along your butt to signal you had bruises. 

Dropping onto the couch with a soft noise of discomfort, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. Letting your head fall back against the plush fabric, Sylus has good taste and thankfully he finds a certain level of comfort just as important as style. 

Hearing the door open you crack an eye open, watching as the man himself strides in with a wine glass in hand taking a sip of the deep maroon liquid. “You look tired Sweetie.” He starts his teasing right away, joining you on the couch close enough to place a hand on your thigh. Even though his touch is light it still elicits another soft noise of pain from your throat and you can’t keep the wince off your face. “I’m surprised, I thought you’d be in better shape.” 

As much as his eyes have a hint of concern, nothing else about his demeanor indicates he’s worried. “I’m just not used to using my muscles like that.” It’s the truth, swinging a sword, shooting a pistol. None of those have you using your body the way you had today and you’re starting to realize that was what he had been getting at with his training. Even if you had been on your back a lot more than you had wanted. 

“The hunter academy should have more hand to hand combat training then. If someone like you is in such rough shape after a simple workout like that Miss Hunter.” Rolling your eyes as Sylus places his glass down on the stand beside him. Letting out a squeal as you feel the coldness you’ve come to associate with his evol wrap around you, on your back once more except this time your legs are resting against his lap. “Don’t come to expect this sort of treatment in the future.” 

You don’t get a chance to question him, your neck arching with the crown of your head hitting the armrest. His fingers dug into a knot you weren’t aware of at the back of your right calf, a dampness forming on your lashes as he kept working the area before the lines of lightning stop racing up your leg. “Wow.” It’s like your brain short circuits as the pain is replaced by relief, those long digits of his moving along the skin of your calf with gentle pressure now. 

“That all you have to say?” Shaking his head a little at your answer but his hands don’t stop moving, the heat from his palms sinking into the muscles and you start to relax more in his hold. 

“I wasn’t expecting a massage.” 

“All our time together and you still seem surprised when I do something nice for you.” Pausing just long enough to take a sip of his drink before he glides his hand along your lower leg. “You wound me, Sweetie.” You wince as he places a bit more pressure than necessary, biting your lip, except it isn’t from the pain. No, it’s to keep yourself from letting out a noise that borders on obscene when your core clenches in response. 

Flicking your eyes to his face, hoping he didn’t notice. 

No such luck as he smirks like the cat that got the canary. Or. A more accurate analogy, the crow that got the shiny object it had been eyeing. 

“If you didn’t drag me into trouble so much ah~” You can’t hide your noise this time, even if it had been pointless. Arching your back away from the cushion under you as his hand moves higher along your leg, you aren’t sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that you wore a skirt. 

“Trouble she says, are you saying I drag you into trouble when we have our little dates at the arcade?” Humming as the tips of his fingers brush the area just inside your knee, alternating pressure as he slides his hand along the area slowly moving higher. 

You don’t have a retort, instead, you watch his face with your eyes narrowed. Curious if he’ll tease you more or just keep moving his hand a little higher closer to where you want him to be. 

“I know what you want Sweetie, are you sure?” Smirking as he trails his hands down, back closer to your foot. “You are feeling rather tense, I wouldn’t want to make you sorer than you already are.” A slight pinch to the skin above your ankle that has you making another soft noise, trying to tug your feet away from his hand. 

“I can handle a lot more than you think.” The words are out of your mouth before you can ponder any kind of consequence. 

That rich melodious laughter of his rings out in the room, his upper body shaking and his grip on your leg grows tighter. A single corner of his lips upturned as those crimson eyes seemed to flash. “That almost sounds like a challenge, Miss Hunter.” Reaching for his wine glass and finishing the remaining liquid, and you’re squealing again as you find yourself airborne for a moment. A firm shoulder under your side and the view of a nice butt and you jolt up and down. 

“Sylus!” Flailing a little as he starts to stride out of the room and down the hallway towards his bedroom. “What are you doing!? Put me down!” 

“Unless you’ve grown more voyeuristic, as to what I’m doing I thought that would be obvious.” His long legs easily take him down the short distance of the hallway and you flush as the implication of his words sink in. The twins were around earlier, and you definitely don’t want them walking in on the two of you. 

Tossed on his bed like you're a sac of some kind, you bounce on the fabric of the bedspread scrambling to right yourself. Except one of those large hands of his reaches out and wraps around your ankle, dragging you to the edge. “Sylus!” Your voice is an odd mixture of giddy and admonishing as the thick comforter bunches under you around your butt and back as you reach the edge. 

There’s a hint of mischief on his face, holding your leg straight up in the air parallel to your body. Letting out a small chuckle with your foot close to his face, the long digits of his other hand work the fastener on your shoe to loosen it enough to drop it to the floor. “Yes, Sweetie?” Smirking as those same fingers glide down your calf, this time a trail of goosebumps rising along the skin in the wake of his touch. 

“I…” Trailing off when his lips ghost along the soft skin of your ankle, causing you to gasp, a reaction that has him grinning from the feeling of his lips against your skin shifting. “I don’t like when you just toss me around.” You sound like a petulant child, not exactly what you want at the moment but you are annoyed at the way Sylus has been tossing you around today. 

“I’ll try and keep that in mind for next time.” Sliding your leg so it’s against his shoulder he repeats the process of grabbing the other one to repeat the action of removing your shoe. Taking his time as those sharp eyes of his watch you as if he can see every minuscule movement as you react to him.

“Next time?” You’re trying to slow your heart rate, shuffling a small amount to try and get the excess fabric under you into a more comfortable position. 

“You could use more training, I like to think I’m a decent workout partner.” Smirking down at you well aware that wasn’t what you had meant and you call him out on it, saying those exact words. “What I plan on doing to you could be considered a workout.” Raising an eyebrow before tilting his head and nipping at your skin. His voice is a little deeper and your body responds in kind, your stomach clenching as you feel a warmth starting to form in your core. 

“And what are you planning on doing to me?” Biting your bottom lip as you try and reach out to touch him, but he’s just out of reach. 

“I have some thoughts.” Seeing your attempts to reach him, he trails one of his palms down along your legs before closing the distance to let you intertwine your smaller hand with his. “Though I have several options.” Rubbing his thumb along the edge of your finger. “Like if I should take you like this, with your legs up in the air while I buck into your soft warm core. Giving your legs a chance to recover from earlier.” 

He says it so nonchalantly like he’s talking about what to have for dinner instead of how he’s going to fuck you. 

“Or.” Letting his voice trail off before leaning forward so your legs are pressed a little against your belly and wedged against his upper body. “Maybe I should take you on your back, with my arms caging your head in while I ram you into the mattress, my entire body weight sinking into you.” A soft noise echoes around the room, and you realize it came from you when your core gave a throb. A dampness starts to form inside your walls at the thought of him pounding you into the mattress. 

“The one I’m really starting to like though, is me relaxing while you ride me.” Chuckling now as he guides your joined hands to his mouth and trails his lips along your knuckles. “Since you can handle a lot more than I think.” 

That has you hot and bothered as your stomach clenches again and your skin blazes with heat, hearing your own words from earlier thrown back in your face. All three options are something you want. The tip of your tongue poking out to moisten your lips as your eyes connect, a hint of a glow in his right eye and you feel your heart starting to race in response. It feels like he’s waiting for you to say something in regards to which option you might want. 

“I don’t have to work tomorrow. What if we did all three?” Your voice is tentative as you ask the question like you’re unsure of the answer.

“Oh Kitten.” Laughing he pushes your feet away from his shoulders so your legs drop down to his sides almost as if framing him between them, letting his weight press you down as he leans so your chests are aligned. A brush of those pink lips that so rarely uptick into a smile along your own. “I think now you’re being a little greedy, you can’t handle all of that.” Another game of teasing, both verbal and physical as the position has his crotch lined up with yours and he’s using it to his advantage as he softly grinds against you. 

Your eyes start to blink rapidly as your brain short circuits, a soft moan rising out of your throat as the action has you feeling more like you're floating in a haze. Shivering from the wash of his breath against your face, an odd sensation as the heat from his arms beside your head warms the air around you. Finding some semblance of thought, you trail your hands along the sleeves of his sweater to his broad shoulders before the tips of your fingers find the skin of his neck. It’s like blaze lighting along the fingertips, his skin warm though you can’t tell if it’s because you're distracted by his lips that he’s keeping just out of reach or just how hot he runs. 

Lifting your head to try and make the connection yourself, your efforts just earn you a chuckle from him as he tilts his face to the side so your lips brush against his cheek. “I need an answer Sweetie.” 

You’re a little frustrated, sliding your hands higher so you can toy with the grey hairs along his neck. Huffing as you think about where the conversation has gone, if he is leaving it up to you, you have an idea which one you want. “Like this.” Your voice sounds unsteady as it rings out in the room, more like you’ve asked a question instead of giving him an answer. 

He lets out a hum, allowing more of his body weight to press you down into the mattress as he lowers his head so it’s beside yours instead of above it. “Like this?” A deep rasp right next to your ear, the point of his nose ghosting along the top of the shell. “It would be an interesting angle.” A roll of his hips and you can’t deny the firmness rubbing along your sex through several layers of clothing. The damp fabric of your panties clinging to your skin as he moves adding to a delicious friction you hadn’t been expecting as the cloth rubs against your clit. “I could buck into you as hard and deep as I want.” Dragging his teeth along the skin of your neck before soothing the area with his tongue. “You’d have little control, are you sure you want that Miss Hunter?” A slight dig with his teasing about your preference to remain autonomous in your life.

A hitch in your breath as you slide your hands upward, through the longer locks of his hair giving them a little tug that makes Sylus hiss through his teeth. He’s not the only one who can tease, even if you have to be careful. Not because you’re worried you might hurt him. No, because anything you dish out to the leader of Onychinus he is happy to return with interest. “I trust you.” The words are far more confident as you rake your nails along his skull, gasping as he snaps his hips far rougher this time jolting both you and the mattress under you. 

“Not the answer I was expecting.” Raising his head so he can look down at you once more with a smirk gracing his features, at least before it softens somewhat as he stares at you. If you had to put a word to it you’d say it’s the closest thing Sylus has to a look of adoration with the curve of his eyes and the slight curl of his lips. Those same lips are just inches away from your own, close enough that every breath he takes washes against your skin in a way that makes you shiver. “I’ll have to make sure I try and restrain myself today then.” Whispered so his lips ghost over yours before he closes the final distance. If there was a way to describe the kiss it would have to be unhurried, a slow and methodical movement that makes you hum in pleasure. Sensual in a way as he dominates and controls every aspect of the connection before pulling back just enough to slide his tongue along your bottom lip. 

You know what he wants, parting your lips but you aren’t going to just go along with it. Flicking your tongue out to meet him and trying to halt him from plunging the muscle into your mouth. Your attempts to keep him engaged in a sloppy open mouth kiss has him groaning, the noise hiding the shifting of his arm. Too involved in the mess of saliva connecting the two of you to notice his hand trail down your side and across your hip as he pulls his body away just enough to form a space for his hand to slip under your skirt.

As two of his fingers sink into your core up to his knuckle you gasp, your back arching away from the mattress and full into his chest, any thought to keep up the dance of tongues gone and Sylus seems to relish the chance to sweep the wet muscle into your mouth. Coiling it around your own after swirling it along the inside of your cheeks, like he’s reacquainting himself with the space. A chuckle that shakes his chest as those two digits curl and expand inside your slick walls. 

Your hips jerk in response, your hands falling away from where they had been tangled in his hair as your brain tries to make sense of his assault on your senses. His fingers keep moving, stroking the ember that had slowly been building inside of you into a fire and coaxing more liquid from your pussy. Your mind can’t keep up so your body starts to respond, trying to lift your hips so his fingers are deeper inside of you. Chasing after them as best as you can, moaning in frustration as his mouth remains connected to yours, his tongue still sliding along yours in a dance that grows more and more desperate. With his body still as close as it is and those thick thighs of his between your legs, you can’t chase the sensation of forcing those digits deeper inside your slick channel. A rumble that might have been a groan deep in his chest, if he was anything else you might have thought it a purr of a predator of some kind. 

Except crows don’t purr. 

You’re starting to feel lightheaded when Sylus finally pulls away, the wet strands connecting the two of you thinning before breaking. Feeling the splatter of the liquid on your chin as your chest heaves, pressing harder against his as you try to suck in oxygen to ground yourself from the way his fingers are churning up your insides. 

Another noise from you that sounds like a cross between a squeak and a mewl when the tip of one of his fingers brushes against a bundle of nerves that makes your eyelids flutter. “So wet, Kitten.” Sylus is panting just as heavily as you are, though he has the full use of his senses unlike you allowing him to continue his onslaught. Kissing along the column of your throat and leaving a wake of damp skin behind. “I thought you might have a bit more control than that.” Still teasing you with his voice as he blows a cool breath along where he had been, another gasp from you as you shiver. Your fingers fisting the material of his bedspread under you, an involuntary response as you keep trying to find a way to ground yourself and gather your scattered thoughts. 

“Sylus~” It’s all you can manage, your body tensing up as his fingers keep working your dripping core, the amount of liquid gushing from you down past your folds and onto his fingers. 

Shushing you gently as his lips caress the skin near the hollow of your throat. “Just relax.” Adding a third finger to your walls, making you cry out and arching your body once more. Very much the opposite of relaxing. 

Your eyes are clenched shut, a sight that has Sylus grinning. Licking his lips at the way your face is pinched in pleasure and trying to fight off how close you are, the slight hint of perspiration dotting the edge of your hairline. The flush painting your cheekbones and the tip of your nose, all because of him and just his fingers. All those hours spent learning your body, the things you like, and the best way to get a response from you are well worth it as his chest swells with an emotion he thought himself incapable of. 

You’ll be the end of him. He doesn’t doubt it for a single moment. 

“Sylus!” Your voice takes on an edge he recognizes, one that means you’re almost at that precipice of tipping over. 

“Almost there Sweetie, you need at least one to loosen you up before you can take me.” It’s partially true. You can take him without an orgasm, but he prefers sinking into your tight core when you’re more than ready for him. A bit of patience so he can let loose when he stuffs you full of his cock. He’s never been one for quickies anyway, and you can’t walk straight after he fucks you regardless if you’ve had enough prep or not. 

Hearing his words you nod, your eyes still closed as you focus on the way those broad digits rub all the right places. The way he works them inside of you so he’s brushing against different places and making you see bursts of light behind your eyelids when he hits certain nerve clusters when he curls them just the right way. 

You keen as his hand twists and his fingers hook to stretch you out more, feeling his thumb start to press against your fabric covered clit. His fingers keeping the part of your underwear out of the way that would have covered most of your opening as he plunges them in and out of you. Your breathing ragged as you hover so close to that point of release. 

It isn’t his fingers that push you over. No. 

The arm he still has above your head shifts, still keeping part of his weight off of you but his fingers can grip your hair. Tugging on it just hard enough that your neck arches, and he plunges his tongue past your parted lips in time to his fingers. 

The assault of pleasure and pain has you screaming his name into his mouth as you cum around his fingers. Squeezing them as if you were trying to milk his cock with your walls before going boneless as your mind blanks from the force of your orgasm. 

Pulling away Sylus can’t help the swell of pride in his chest, taking in your bruised lips and blissed out expression. Raising an eyebrow as he stepped away, his gaze going over the mess of fluid that’d seeped from your core and soaked your underwear as well as his bedspread and the front of his pants that had been close to your cunt. A piece of information to tuck away for the next time he wanted to fuck you after a workout. He’s never made you squirt before and this was the closest he’d come. 

Keeping one eye on you as he opens a drawer to grab a packet, watching the rise and fall of your chest as you stir starting to sit up. “Sylus?” A soft call of his name as if you’re dazed and looking for him. He finds it adorable, the way you turn your head seeking him out.

“I’m here Sweetie, just grabbing a condom.” As much as he’d enjoy making you squirm and flooding your core with his cum until it has nowhere else to go but drip from your folds and down your thighs, the two of you aren’t there yet. “You made quite a mess.” Smirking at the flush that covers your face at the sudden realization, laughing as he strides back towards you and the bed. 

You’re mortified as you cover your face with your hands feeling the heat from your cheeks in your palms, you can feel the slick from your release still dribbling out of you and down your thighs. “It’s your fault.” A crack in your voice as you say it that makes him grin, aware you can’t see it right now. 

“If that’s meant to deter me, you’re doing a bad job Sweetie. Telling me that mess is my fault is just going to make me want to do it again.” Closer to you once more he drops his head to lean his forehead against yours. “And again.” 

“You’re egotistical.” 

“If you say so.” A spark of mischief in his crimson gaze, tilting his head to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Now, are you sure about your choice? Last chance to change your mind.” You’re still going to get railed but you believe him about having the final say in how he’ll fuck you.

“Are you backing out now?” Aiming for a teasing tone as you go in for a kiss, one he doesn’t pull away from this time. Aware of your hands trailing down his chest to the hem of his grey sweater, your fingers hooking into it and tugging it upwards. Again, a motion he lets you carry through with until he has to lift his arms. Chuckling he leans back to let you slip the material over his head, not missing the way your eyes drop down to his chest and the visible swallow you make. 

“Never.” Tossing the clothes to the side, Sylus grasps one of your hands in his larger one. “Like what you see, Sweetie?” It doesn’t matter how many times you see Sylus naked, or partially naked, he’s well built and damn if he doesn’t know it. 

“I think you already know the answer to that.” A small breathy laugh of your own rings in the space, trailing the hand not clasped in his downward to his belt and working your way to the clasp at the front of it. Releasing your other hand and letting you work the buckle to free the leather of his belt before your hands tugged the metal teeth of his zipper down. Growing bolder and slipping a hand inside past the fabric of his underwear to grasp his hard length. Humming at the feel of his warm flesh sinking into your palm, pumping along his hard shaft awkwardly within the confines of his pants. 

Sylus lets you continue for a few moments, breathing through his teeth as your palm glides up and down his length. A squeeze here and there as you tease him, smearing the precum that beads at his slit along his shaft before he wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls it away. “That’s enough teasing.” Turning your hand to kiss the back of it before nipping at the skin between your thumb and index finger, enjoying the short little gasp you make. 

As he drops your hand Sylus wastes no time pushing his pants and underwear down enough to free his aching cock, tearing the edge of the condom packet and sliding the latex down his shaft to his base. “Leave it on.” His eyes focused on you and how you had started to remove your clothes, one hand on your shoulder and pushing you back down on his bedspread. “After all, I didn’t say anything earlier about taking your clothes off.” 

Spreading your legs and slipping between them, two of his fingers pushing the fabric of your sodden panties aside and humming in appreciation at the sight of your slick sex. You’re still dripping from earlier, tapping the head of his dick against your clit, the whines you make like music to his ears. 

“Sylus!” Crying out as you feel frustrated that he’s still teasing you. 

“What’s the magic word?” Another few taps before sliding his shaft along the outside of your walls, smearing your juices along the latex covering his skin. He can feel the heat of your skin through the material, throwing out a reminder back to earlier in your relationship when you had told him to stop just demanding your time.

“Please Sylus!” You look so desperate, pleading for him, so different from the hunter that waltzed into the N109 zone trying to sell her soul while looking for answers. A look that he knows is only for him, and he enjoys giving in to those pleas when it suits him. Using his hand to guide the head of his cock to your pussy, feeling the tip breach your entrance before he snaps his hips as he splits you open with his length. 

Hissing through his teeth at the tightness of your walls as you make a noise like a scream that sounds something like this name. The fire in your belly bursts back to life after cooling from the break between your last orgasm and now. Sylus doesn’t hold back, not with the slickness inside of your cunt as he ruts into you with sure snaps of his hips. Every move has him slamming into you to the base of his cock before pulling out until the tip remains in your heat. A blistering pace that has your hands grabbing fistfuls of the bedspread between your fingers and clasping it tightly enough that the joints turn white. 

With your eyes narrowed from the pleasure flooding through your system you watch Sylus standing between your legs. The glint of light off the damp skin of his chest, and the way his abdomen clenches each time he sinks deep inside your pussy. Every thrust deep, your walls stretched to the limit around his girth hovering just before that edge of pain. All you can do is moan and mewl in response to him, feeling the inferno of desire and arousal growing steadily by the minute. 

It isn’t long as he pants how perfect you are, with his hands at your hips to keep you from sliding back on the bed while he drills into you. The dampness that had started on his skin is more like a thin layer of sweat now, tossing his head and some of the drops fall across your skin and across the fabric of your clothes. The sight makes you clamp harder around his shaft. Turned on by the flush growing along his cheekbones and his pectorals all from the effort of him bucking into you with the force of a wild animal while maintaining the same precise movements as when he was sparring with you earlier. 

A symphony of his name on your lips and Sylus tries to grin, but his breathing is growing more and more labored. Grabbing your legs and holding them against his chest, listening to the tempo of your breathing increase as the change has you tumbling over that edge as you squeeze him like a vice. He doesn’t let up, rutting into you through your orgasm, holding your ankles in one hand with both leaning against one of his shoulders allowing his other hand to toy with your clit. Pulling a second orgasm from you in short order, his thumb sliding the hood back to flick the bundle of nerves directly. 

Tears form on your lashes as your back arches, letting go of the fabric of the bedspread to wrap both of your hands around his wrist to try and stop the onslaught on your core. It’s too much, but you can’t find the words as your fingers scramble to try and push his way. 

“Just a little more.” It’s more of a grunt, the ease that he normally speaks lost to his exertion, each word broken by a pant. “You can handle that, can’t you?” 

The fluid from your tears is running down the sides of your face now, you aren’t sure you can and Sylus takes note of the almost warring expression you’re sporting. There’s a bubbling in his gut accompanying the tightening of his balls, your sweet cunt milking him has him almost to the goal line. Changing the angle of his upper body so your legs are pointing back towards your body, your ass in the air with his balls slapping against the skin as he keeps thrusting into you. Sliding his hand from your clit up along your stomach and chest, giving one of your cloth covered breasts a squeeze to make you gasp on his way. Wiping his fingers across the damp skin of your neck before pressing two of his digits against your lips. 

“Suck.” Sliding them into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. The taste of sweat and other bodily fluids is enough to ground you, to take away the focus of your exhausted and overstimulated core just long enough for Sylus to ram into you he’s going to leave a permanent imprint of his cock inside your walls. His nostrils flare as that steady rhythm of his finally snaps and he cums inside the condom, his hips still surging forward as if he could pump his seed deep inside your pussy. Slowing to a stop with his tip nudging against your cervix and pulling a third orgasm from you that makes you whine as everything goes white. 

As the sweat drips from his hair onto his neck, he watches you through hooded eyes. Enjoying the way your clothes cling to your body from sweat and the way your skin seems to shine in the dim lighting. Your lips parted just enough to see the tip of your tongue poking out. His fingers are coated in saliva but for now he doesn’t care, carefully removing himself from your slick channel, a thick ring of cream around his base on the condom. Maybe next time. Whispered inside his head. 

You groan as his evol wraps around you and moves you more onto the bed as he slips away, you can vaguely hear the sound of running water. The longer you lay there in the post afterglow with your heart rate slowing down you take deeper and deeper breaths. Sitting up in a snap as cool fabric touches your abused sex. Sylus is there, wiping the soft wet cloth between your folds. “You’re a mess.” He’s back to teasing and you’re still too exhausted from just having been pushed to the edge and thrown over that many times to form any real retort. 

“You don’t look much better.” 

“Trying to be mean? It doesn’t work with clipped claws Kitten.” Chuckling he presses the cloth a little harder into your sex. “After everything, I just did for you.” 

You let out a soft noise, the haze in your limbs lifting and you use your arms to push yourself into a semi seated position. “My clothes are soaked, and I need a shower.” Grumbling as you rub at your face, the damp trails from your tears earlier still on your skin. 

“Later.” Leaning closer to catch your lips in a kiss, his fingers hooking the edge of your shirt. “I remember someone earlier saying she wanted all three options, and the night is still young Sweetie.” 

Suffice to say, when morning came with you tucked away in his bedroom well away from the rays you’re glad you have the day off. Because you’re not getting out of bed with how sore you are, instead you sleepily snuggle back in against Sylus’s chest, earning a chuckle from him as he places bids at an auction. One hand resting against the small of your back and tracing patterns. 

Maybe he’ll have to convince you to do training more often with him if it keeps you there for several hours of sex and passed out in his bed. 

Masterlist

[imaginedisish]

Inside Out (Logan Howlett x f!reader)

A/N: Oh my god I'm back again. This is another soft!Logan fic. I couldn't hold myself back from writing this one. The next fic I have planned is going to be devious and diabolical, I promise, but for now, here's another angsty, soft and smutty Logan one shot. Couldn't stop listening to "Inside Out" by Duster while writing this one. I think it fits. Hope you guys enjoy :)

Summary: After a tense battle, you and Logan have it out (in more ways than one).

Warnings: SMUT! 18+ Minors DNI! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, PIV (unprotected...wrap it up, this is fiction!), Allusions to PTSD/mental health, Frenemies to Lovers, Fem!reader, AFAB!reader, Mutant!reader, Telepathic!reader (with heightened senses/visions), cannon typical violence/allusions to death, non-sexual intimacy becomes sexual intimacy (not sure if that warrants a warning), angry!Logan, reader has hair (length/texture/color not described!) major angst, probably grammatical errors, I think that's everything.

Word Count: 4477 wow

You and Logan are surrounded. You can hear the other members of the team nearby in the forest, screaming, grunting, fighting. Guns going off, ricocheting against trees. And now, there is a circle of government-sanctioned mutant hunters pointing their machine guns and rifles directly at the two of you. 

Your heart beats out of your chest. How the fuck are you going to get out of this? It seems impossible. Sure, you and Logan can regenerate, but not nearly fast enough. You’re outnumbered 2 to at least 40, and more to come. Maybe this is the end. Maybe there’s no going home this time. 

But then, an idea crosses your mind. Briefly. A flash. A shot in the dark. But it’s there. And if you’re strong enough, it might just work.

You wince as another presence weaves itself through the fabric of your thoughts. No, Charles shouts in your mind. It’s too dangerous. 

You shake him off, forcing up your mental shields. Logan recognizes that look on your face. He can tell you’re up to something. He has always been able to read you like a book. 

“Don’t you dare put yourself in danger,” he mutters under his breath so only you can hear him. “We are all walking out of here, and you’re no exception.”

You close your eyes. “When I tell you to get down, you get down.”

“Absolutely not!” His nostrils flare. The government agents cock their guns. 

“Lo, get down.”

“Fuck no!”

You can feel it coming—feel their fingers bracing their triggers. Pulling. Pulling. Pulling. Everything is silent for a moment. You can hear everything. Nothing. There’s a squirrel running up a tree just a few feet away. A cold breeze sweeps through your legs. Peace. 

It never lasts long, does it?

“NOW!”

BANG! The shots ring out, echoing against the branches, the sound shaking the trees. 

With half your focus, you shove Logan to the ground, and with the other, you stop each and every bullet pointed in your direction. You stop the agents too, freezing them in their places. Dense, heavy sweat builds upon your brow. You’re trembling, your hands stretched out towards Logan and the agents, but you’re still in control. You can hold on a bit longer.  

You swallow harshly, forcing the bullets to rain down to the ground. With the twist of your hand, you remove the magazines from each of the guns and unload them, the ammunition falling to the ground, too. With the agents still under your control, you bend their wrists just enough so that they sprain; just enough so that they can’t fight back. 

And then comes that sudden, familiar shift in your body and in your mind. You’re weakening, losing control, struggling to breathe. You growl in agony, your head ready burst from the pressure of hanging on too long—but you have to finish this. You have to save your friends. 

You have to save Logan. 

With one final push of your hand, you send the government agents flying deep into the forest, screaming in pain at the sheer force it takes. You fall to your knees, down on the ground next to Logan. You try to catch your breath, your chest heaving rapidly. You cough, choking on your own breath and saliva as the taste of metal burns at the back of your throat. You swallow it all down. One more second of that, or a few more agents to fend off, and you might not have made it. You might have died trying. 

You regain some of your energy after a few moments on the ground. It’s not until you try to stand that you notice Logan’s hand on your back. He tries to help you up, but you shake him off. 

“I’m fine,” you protest, dusting off your uniform. 

“Fine?” Fuck. He’s angry. “You call that fine? You almost died!”

You turn to face him. He wants anger? Oh, you can show him what anger fucking looks like. “We would be dead if I didn’t do that! I did what I had to do!”

He prowls toward you. His claws are still out. “Are you fucking crazy?” He’s backing you into a tree now. “Tell me, what the fuck was that? What did you think you were doing?” He retracts his claws as he pins his hands into the tree, right next to your head. The bark scratches into the rips in your uniform. 

You condescendingly poke his chest with your pointer figure. If he’s going to treat you like a child, you’re going to do the same to him. “Saving your ass, that’s what!” You shout back. 

“This is not the time or place for you two to have it out.” Scott’s grating voice fills your ears. He is the last person’s opinion you’d like to hear right now.

You and Logan snap your heads to face him. “Shut the fuck up, Scott!” You spit in unison. He throws his hands up and backs away. 

“You could’ve gotten yourself killed!” Logan practically growls. 

You shake your head, your nostrils flaring. “I was protecting you!” You shout. “And I did! It worked!”

The rest of the team starts to board the jet, but Logan shows no sign of budging. Storm crosses her arms as she stands in front of the ramp. “Logan, let’s go.” 

He doesn’t move an inch, still caging you in. “I’ve got the bike. I’ll take her with me.”

“My bike!” Scott calls from just inside the ship. Logan shoots him a death stare. Even you roll your eyes at the comment. 

“Logan,” Charles chides from next to Storm, his voice a warning. 

You tilt your head past Logan to see Charles. “It’s fine. I’ll go with him. We’ll meet you guys at the mansion.” 

Charles nods. You swear you can see a faint smirk spread across his face, but he’s turning around and wheeling himself up the ramp before you can truly make out his expression. 

The ramp shuts behind him, and the jet powers up to leave. “So how are we settling this, hm?” You ask, cockily. Logan works his jaw, staring down at you with a fury you’re not quite sure you’ve seen before. “What would you like to do, bub?” You smirk. “What, you gonna tell me we’re supposed to be a team or something? Thought that wasn’t your style.” You know you’re being harsh, using his own words against him, ripping into him, but you don’t care. The jet takes off, but neither you nor Logan pay it any mind. 

His tongue swipes his bottom lip, and you can’t help but watch. You try to ignore how much you like the sight of it. Of him. 

“Never,” he seethes, not wavering an inch. “Never do anything like that again.”

“Why?” Is all you ask, knowing full well you’re poking the bear. “It’s nothing you wouldn’t have done.”

He ignores you and presses on. “I swear to God, if anything ever happens to you, I will punch a fucking hole in the goddamn universe so big that…” He trails off, his eyes searching your face. There’s a shift in his expression. “So fucking big that…” But he still doesn’t finish the sentence. His eyes are glossed over, like he’s holding back tears. 

You’re suddenly embarrassed. You can’t keep his stare, his eyes locked on you. You look down at the leaf-covered ground, and you realize just how dirty you are. Blood on your hands, under your nails, caked into your skin. You’re finally understanding the gravity of the moment—of what could have been if your plan didn’t work. 

“It was the only way,” you pause, feeling tears sting behind your sinuses, burning as they reach your eyes. “Only way I saw it ending without you d-dying.” You have to choke the words out. “C-couldn’t lose you,” you mutter, hoping he can’t hear you. 

“And what?” He says, not backing down. “You think you’re the only one with something to lose?”

“N-no,” you stutter softly. “That’s not what I meant at all. I just—”

“I’d rather die than live in a world without you.” He says finally. He pushes himself off the tree and away from you. He turns, walking towards wherever he parked the bike. 

You look at his back in disbelief. “W-what?” “You fucking heard me,” he shouts, not bothering to stop and wait for you or to elaborate further. You push your back off the tree and follow him through the forest. 

“Slow down!” You call out, still not quite fully recovered from using your powers. But he keeps pressing forward. “Logan!” You call again. “Please, I—” You stumble a bit, almost falling over, but you catch yourself just in time. You reach out to a tree for support, gripping a low branch tightly in your hand. You suck in deep, shaky breaths as you let your eyes fall closed. 

Logan shouts your name in the near distance, his voice filled with panic. His footsteps crunch the leaves of the forest floor. You can tell he’s sprinting with every twig that cracks beneath his boots. “Fuck, are you okay?” He’s next to you now, his arms enveloping you, reaching around your waist to offer you support. 

You can feel your tears bubbling to the surface, threatening to burst. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, opening your eyes to look up at him. “I just didn’t see any other way.”

“I know.” His voice is gentler now, calmer. He helps you straighten up, taking a tentative step and watching as you take one too. He walks slowly, making sure not to rush you, keeping an eye on your every move. “I’m sorry too,” he says. “What you do…you just scare me sometimes.”

You hope he doesn’t see the tear that slips out the corner of your eye and down your cheek. “I scare myself. I still can’t control my powers. I know I’m a monster.” You can see the bike in the distance, so you take another step, but Logan stops. “I just feel so inside out sometimes, like I can’t be comfortable in my own head never mind my own skin.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” His voice is steady now, firm. His grip around your waist tightens, keeping you in place. “You’re not a monster. You’re beautiful—” He cuts himself off. “What you can do, is beautiful.”

“Then what is it that scares you?” You need to know. 

“You’re just so selfless. What you did back there…” He pauses. “You knew you could die. I saw it in the way you were standing. The way you looked at me. It was reckless.”

He searches your face, your eyes, your lips for an answer. “You’re no better,” you huff out. Logan smirks, guiding you towards the bike yet again. “It’s just what you do when you care about someone.”

“I know.” His lips are pressed against the shell of your ear. “I know,” he repeats. 

He helps you onto the back of the bike, holding your hips as you straddle the seat. His hands linger longer than they should. He squeezes softly before letting go and walking to the front. He straddles the bike himself, grabbing the key from his jacket pocket and turning it into the ignition. The bike springs to life. 

“Hang on, alright?” He calls out over the roar of the engine. You nod against his back, slipping your arms under his jacket and around his waist. He kicks the stand up, and the bike rumbles underneath you as he presses on the gas. You tighten your hold on him as the bike jolts forward. 

You rest your head on his back, letting yourself fold over him completely. He’s warm and solid underneath you. You shut your eyes, too tired to watch the tires speed across the black pavement. Aside from the engine, the tires against the street below, and the wind, there’s no sound. No one around. It’s just you and Logan. Alone. 

You feel him breathe in deeply. “Don’t know what I’d do if you didn’t make it.”  You can feel the words reverberate in his back. “I mean it.”

“But I did,” you say, lifting your head so that you can speak against his ear. “I’m right here.” He hums in affirmation, and you rest your head on his back again. You hesitantly reach your hands under his shirt this time, arms wrapping around him as tight as possible. You know this is pushing the boundaries of your “friendship,” but he doesn’t stop you—doesn’t push you away. He just hums again. “I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, and shut your eyes. 

“Good.”

The ride back to the mansion isn’t terribly long, and you wish it could’ve been longer. Logan drives the bike into the garage, taking the keys out of the ignition and kicking out the stand. You lift your head, and before you can even think of getting up on your own, Logan is wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you off the seat. 

You let him hold you there for a moment. You try to tell yourself that this is just a hug between friends, that this whole situation is what happens when you care about someone too much. But it’s hard to lie to yourself when you feel so impossibly strongly about someone. 

He drops his arms from your body and silently takes your hand in his. He guides you to the door that leads to the mansion, keeping you close. 

It’s dark once you step inside. Everyone must have gone to bed. It likely took you and Logan five times as long as the jet to get back to the mansion. Quiet fills the halls. There’s not a stir, not a creak, not a step. You can sense that everyone is asleep, or at least in their rooms. 

“Lo?” You whisper. He squeezes your hand. A surge of confidence racks through you. “Can you stay with me?” You’re not quite sure what you mean by that—what you expect him to do if he stays. All you’re certain of is that you don’t want him to leave. 

He nods, leading you up the stairs. “Won’t go anywhere, sweetheart.” He guides you down the hall towards his room. “Let’s get cleaned up, okay?” 

He opens the door and guides you in, shutting it carefully behind him. He lets go of your hand, the sudden emptiness making your palm feel cold. How do people become so important, so quickly? How can someone letting go of your hand hurt so bad when they’re still just a few feet away? You’re not sure, but you know this feeling is dangerous. 

He’s rummaging through his drawers for a few seconds before he pulls out a t-shirt and places it on the dresser in front of him. He grabs another set of clothes, closes the drawer, and carries them over to you. He extends the shirt out to you, a soft smile playing on his lips. That’s what he is right now: soft. You’re not used to this side of him. 

You take the shirt from him, smiling back. “You should shower. You can use mine.” His head tilts towards the bathroom on the other side of his room. You nod and pad over, opening the door, turning on the lights, and closing the door behind you. 

You keep moving, undressing and turning the water on. It doesn’t take long for the water to heat up, the steam fogging every inch and surface of the room. You step inside the shower, letting the water run down your body. Your eyes fall closed while your mind searches for some kind of peace. You try to recall what Charles often told you: Calm your mind. But it isn’t working this time. Your mind is racing. 

You envision Logan’s angry, fearful face; his concern and panic. Charles’s call that it would be too dangerous echoes and reverberates. You see yourself dead on the ground, Logan holding your lifeless body in his arms. Even worse, you find yourself imagining that it didn’t work at all—that you couldn’t save the team, never mind yourself. This time it’s Logan’s body you see, on the ground, dead. Just like that, your whole world can slip out of your hands and turn to nothing. 

Choked sobs escape your throat as you let yourself fall to your knees. There’s a piercing, splitting pain somewhere deep inside your head. These visions, these feelings, this pain—it’s physical and mental. And it’s too much. It’s not the first time you’ve had visions like these after a fight or a mission, but it is the worst episode yet. 

There’s a knock on the door, followed by Logan calling your name. You try to answer, but your voice is caught in your throat. Logan knocks harder, but you still can’t speak. “I’m coming in!” The door swings open and his eyes widen as he sees your crumpled form on the shower floor, face stained red with tears. 

He shoves the shower door open, practically cracking the glass in the process. You’re suddenly hyper-aware of how naked you are, but it’s clear Logan isn’t. His gaze is trained on your face. “I-it happens, sometimes,” you stutter, reassuring him that this is normal. “A-after missions.”

Logan’s shoulders relax, his eyes softening with understanding. “I know what you mean.” His hands come up to your arms, rubbing gently. “Let me help you.” He gestures with his head toward the shower. You nod and watch as Logan takes his shirt off. He stands to take off his jeans, and you look away, taking the moment to force yourself to stand. You hear him step into the shower and slide the door shut behind him. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, swallowing harshly. 

Logan stands behind you, less than a foot away. The shower is just big enough for the two of you. “Nothing to be sorry for. Just let me take care of you.” 

“Okay,” you whisper. You hear him shuffle a bit, squeeze a bottle, and shuffle a bit more. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks. 

“Y-yeah,” you answer. You wonder if he can hear how fast your heart is beating. But before you can think about it too much, his hands come up to your wet hair. He massages shampoo into your scalp, his fingertips scrubbing ever so gently. You feel your shoulders settle—your body relax. No one has ever done anything like this for you before. 

You watch as the dirt trickles down your body to the drain. After a few moments of massaging, Logan nudges you forward a bit, and you take the hint to step under the water fully. You close your eyes as he scrubs the shampoo from your hair. 

When he’s done, he removes his hands from your hair and slides them down to your neck, and then to your shoulders. You step away from the water, almost bumping into his chest in the process. 

“’M’sorry,” you mumble. 

“No more apologizing, darlin’.” His hands come off your shoulders. You feel lost without the contact. You listen as the bottle pops open again, and Logan quickly scrubs the shampoo into his own hair. You instinctively step forward to let him rinse, and he does.

You take a deep breath, trying to concentrate and calm down now that his hands aren’t on you. But it doesn’t last long. He opens another bottle, pouring more liquid into his hands. 

He rests his hands on your shoulders again. You can feel the body wash run down your arms. “Can I…” Logan trails off, his hands firm, unmoving until you give the word. 

“Mhm,” you hum. His hands start to work the soap into your arms, up to your neck, your collarbone, stopping just above your chest. “Logan,” you murmur, letting yourself lean into him. You feel his heart beating against your back. His breath fans over your shoulder.

You can tell he’s losing his composure, the way he slouches around you, inviting you in. This isn’t something friends do. You two aren’t friends. This is something more. 

And he knows. 

“There’s no coming back from this,” he whispers, his lips at your temple. “If we do this.”

You push back further into him. “Who says I’d want to go back?”

Your back is suddenly met with the cold shower wall, your chest flush with Logan’s. His lips press into yours, swallowing your moans as his hands come up to your breasts, pinching your nipples lightly. He moves down your body quickly, leaving a trail of kisses down your jawline, your neck, the center of your chest, your stomach, stopping just above your clit. 

“Relax,” he soothes, his thumbs brushing your hips. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands before pressing a kiss to your clit. You shudder at the feeling, whispering his name and throwing your head back. 

He licks a long stripe up your cunt, landing on your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking roughly. He laps at you hungrily, like a man starved. One of his hands resting on your hip comes down in between your thighs, experimentally sliding through your folds, teasing your entrance. 

It feels so good, but you want him—need him—closer. He inserts two fingers, gently pumping in and out, flicking your clit with his tongue at the same time. 

“Logan,” you whine. You look down at him, his head buried in your cunt. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with lust. You’re already close. But it’s not enough “Need you, now. Want you here.”

“I’m here,” he mumbles against your core. You’re shaking, melting underneath him. 

“N-need you,” you beg again. “Please.” 

He sucks on your clit one last time before removing his fingers from your cunt and standing up to meet you.

His hands rest on either side of your head. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of him. “Are you sure you want this?” His voice wavers just a bit, a slight tremble shaking the usual steadiness of his words. He looks down to your lips and back up to your eyes—his jaw working, as if he’s searching for a sign that you’ve changed your mind—that you don’t want him anymore. 

But you’ll always want him. You always have. 

“Y-yes,” You stutter. He wraps one hand around the back of your neck and uses the other to hoist one of your legs around his waist. His hard cock rubs against your stomach as he moves to line up with your entrance. 

“Wanted you this whole time, pretty girl.” He thrusts into you, sinking down to the hilt. He stays there for a moment, pulling you into him, his free hand grabbing your ass and picking you up so that both legs wrap around his waist. 

He uses the wall as leverage, fucking you into the tiles at your back. Once he’s sure you’re stable against him, his hand leaves your ass and comes in between your bodies, searching for your clit. He begins to stroke, drawing perfect circles there, while his cock hits that sweet spot inside you. 

It’s perfect, everything about this moment is perfect. It all feels so good. You moan his name, his hips rutting into you over and over again.

“Doing so good for me,” he husks, biting the skin just under your jaw, licking the spot where your pulse point is, peppering kisses there. You wonder if he does it because it’s a reminder that you’re still here, still alive, still breathing. “Taking me so well, sweetheart.” 

His words work to coax you off the edge, each swipe of his fingers and thrust of his cock bringing you closer to your orgasm. “L-Logan,” you stutter, his name—him—the only thing in your normally noisy mind. This is what peace is. This is the calm you’ve been searching for your whole life: it’s him. 

You can feel his pace growing faster, his cock pushing deeper, stretching you out as he plunges into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he groans, kissing your pulse point again. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your walls flutter around him, your clit becoming overstimulated and sensitive as he flicks roughly. You’re so close. “Lo—” but you can’t find the words. 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he mumbles, his forehead pressing to yours. “Want you to look at me when you come. Can you do that for me?” 

You moan a yes as he buries his cock deep inside you, before pulling out and pumping back in again. 

You can feel your eyes growing heavy, but you keep them open, watching Logan as he pulls your orgasm from you. “That’s it. I’ve got you.” His words, the bass of his voice, him, it all sends you over the edge. He works you through it, still circling your clit, his pace growing sloppier as he chases his own orgasm. 

You wrap your legs tighter around his waist. He knows what you want. “Inside,” you whisper. 

“Oh f-fuck,” he moans, coming inside you, filling you up. 

His thrusts begin to slow, his hand leaving that space between your bodies. You feel like air, weightless, drunk off the way he makes you feel. He carefully slips out of you, but he doesn’t put you back down on the ground. He simply readjusts, picking you up in his arms and carrying you out of the shower. 

He sets you down on the bathmat and crosses the tiled floor to the towel rack, where two towels conveniently hang. He wraps one towel around his waist as he strides over to you. He starts to dry you off, rubbing you gently, kissing each spot he dries as he goes. He’s worshipping you, taking care of you. No one has ever taken care of you like this. 

Once he’s finished, he wraps you up in the towel, and picks you up again. He carries you back into his room, resting you gently on the already turned-down bed. He crawls in after you, discarding his towel in the process. You toss your towel to the side, too. You nestle in under the covers, and Logan does the same. 

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. You can feel that peace again, that calm from before, when he was buried inside of you. It was him. It was always him. Your mind is quiet, no longer all loud and inside out. 

“I’ve got you,” Logan whispers, his legs tangling with yours. 

You bury your face into his chest. “Don’t let go.” But you know you don’t need to ask. 

His mind is already made up. 

“Never will.” 

[kykyonthemoon]

Moonlit

You're on the mission to approach a target at a banquet, and that's all it takes to drive him crazy.

🌻 Rafayel/Xavier/Zayne x F!Reader See Caleb and Sylus's parts here: Full Moon Tags: R16+, suggestive theme, MDNI, possessive, marking and biting, no established relationship This is a request by Xuanlinhh. A/N: This is my first time trying out something like this for L&D, as I don't usually write fic with suggestive theme. So I'm curious to know how I've done with this fic. Feedbacks are always appreciated. After so many titles, I decided to choose "Moonlit", since the moon represents illusion, fear, hidden things. These are the scenarios where he shows another color of his to you. Thus, in all three scenes, there are moonlight all over the place.

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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

Your eyes widened when you saw the dress draped over your cotton blanket. It was long past the ankles, the shoulders were slightly bulging and hanging down to reveal the collarbone. The dress consisted of many layers of pastel pink and purple. In the afternoon sunlight, the sequins and pearls attached to it seemed to shine.

“Does he really want me to wear this?” It was a murmur to yourself. The dress was too exquisite, too expensive, too... much at least in comparison to what you would often put in your wardrobe. You did not need to become a princess, just a normal evening dress to blend in and complete the task assigned to you.

Being ignorant about high society or lavish balls, you had asked Rafayel for help. You never expected him to send you such a gorgeous dress.

Indeed, as he predicted, you became the focus of the party as soon as you arrived there.

Each party guest had a mask. Yours arrived in the same color scheme as the dress and was encrusted with opulent pearls and jewels. You wondered why Rafayel was making you look quite distinct. However, you shouldn't have had any reason to doubt him at all when your target moved toward you on his own initiative.

The target of this mission was a high-class profile from another city. Even though you tried your best to focus on the mission, you still wondered if Rafayel came here, or just his work.

The banquet area was adorned with paintings by Rafayel, so it was hard to look at them and not think about him. Had he made it in yet? Would he abandon you here, trapped in a conversation with a stranger?

Using the skill of pretended intimacy in order to obtain information was something you had learned from your training courses. You put a hand on the target's, smiling and talking as if you were fascinated by him. After getting the information you needed, you made an excuse to leave, but it did not appear like things would finish so simply.

He grabbed your wrist and roughly pulled you back to your seat. You shouted, but the music and laughter drowned you out. You aimed at the middle of his face and was about to throw a punch, only to have an arm wrapped over your shoulder and holding your back.

“It seems like this lady doesn't want to be here anymore.”

You knew right away that voice, and that scent were as familiar as a field of wild roses. You turned around and saw Rafayel standing next to you. His hand held your shoulder to help you stand up. Suddenly your heart was filled with joy to see him.

Your target still refused to let go, but when he realized Rafayel's face was not covered by the mask, he knew that was someone he could not meddle with.

He said something to Rafayel in a foreign language and then walked away. You looked at Rafayel, grateful:

“Rafayel…”

Before you finished speaking, you were tugged out of the banquet room by him.

The quiet garden was awakened by the footsteps of two people. From behind, you couldn't see Rafayel's face, only his broad shoulders covered in a dark-colored tuxedo with sequins. You had the strange impression that he was furious. Perhaps it was his pressure that caused your wrist to get crimson. He guided you through a labyrinth of plants and stone sculptures.

“Rafayel.”

He only stopped when you called his name, but still did not turn to look at you. You stepped forward to observe him. You took a step forward to study him. A frown could be seen plainly on his forehead as his face pouted.

“Rafayel? What's the matter?"

His gaze grew gloomy. His hand holding yours tightened even more as he pulled it up to touch his cheek.

“…”

His abrupt movement confused you. He buried his face in your palm, took in a deep breath and gave you a bite.

“Rafayel!”

You let out a cry of surprise instead of agony since the bite was rather faint. He took advantage of your vulnerability to wrap his arms around you, forcing your body to touch his.

His lips placed on your palm a kiss where it had just been bitten, then slid down to your wrist. You made an unsuccessful attempt to flee. He gave you another glance, or rather studied every strand of lace and fabric of the garment that embraced your upper body.

“I made a terrible mistake sending this dress to you. Too graceful. Too desirable…”

The moon, round like a silver disk overhead, provided the sole light in the labyrinth. Rafayel continued to rub his face on your hand, his face appearing and disappearing in an instant.

“He touched you here…” Rafayel whispered. He kissed your wrist and palm again, fiercely like a storm.

“You… What are you doing?…”

Your heart beat was so incessant. It might have been an overdose of alcohol that caused your arms and legs to feel so weak. Rafayel let go of your hand, just to rub his head on your shoulder. His fingers sank into your hair, causing your mask to fall off. You caught his heavy breathing close to your ear, his breath caressing your uncovered neck and collarbone.

“What about here?”

Rafayel asked, then he bit your neck, causing your body to squirm in agony.

“N-No! Rafayel!”

You tried to push him away, but the more you resisted, the more Rafayel tightened his hold on you. His lips sucked into your ear.

"Here?"

“I… I was just talking to him… That's all!”

"Good." He said, leaving your neck covered in crimson kiss marks. Moist. Burning. Exposed under the moonlight. "You won't be touched by that filthy hand ever again. Not in the slightest... I promise it."

A crazy thought suddenly crossed your mind. You had never seen this side of Rafayel. It frightened you, and also invited you to explore further.

“What... are you going to do?…” You asked in a daze. With your head whirling, you sought to Rafayel's powerful arms for support.

“With him? You shouldn't be worried about that guy. What you should be worried about is the things that will happen to you right now.”

“Rafayel, you—!”

He nipped you on the neck, then planted another kiss where he could hear your nearly deranged heartbeat—deeper beneath your collarbone.

You took deep breaths. Rafayel straightened up and gazed down at you, euphoric in his arms. The bite marks and kiss marks were intertwined like a work of art he had left on you. Similar to the garment you were donning, they served as a reminder to others that you belonged to no one, but him.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

The melodious music led the couples back and forth according to a set pattern. Every step, every movement was perfectly planned. Only eyes were not so easily controlled.

Yes, you had been looking at that man in the white attire ever since the music started and you were escorted to the center. His hair as bright as starlight at night stood out in the ballroom. And no matter where he was, you would find him in a blink. Even with the silver mask covering half of his face.

And, he also looked at you. There was a hint of sorrow and a tinge of rage in his eyes. Did you delude yourself like that? Or was he really looking at you and wishing that the person each of you were guiding through music was the other?

Carelessly, your heel stepped on your partner's foot. You said in embarrassment:

“My apologies… How clumsy I am.”

The man said there was no problem, and you continued dancing. This was the target you must approach for the day's mission. You turned back to face Xavier. He was also leading another person in the dance. Another target.

Due to the importance of this mission, neither you nor Xavier must show any negligence. But in the midst of this lavish masquerade, what you wanted the most was to leap into Xavier's arms. You could dance until dawn, if it was with him.

You forced the stray ideas out of your mind. You needed to focus. Extremely. You turned back to your dance partner, who did not seem to notice anything unusual. You pulled him closer and your hand on his shoulder slid down slightly.

A grin came across his grim mask to greet you. You caught a glimpse of the other side, Xavier's face tightening. Almost at once, his dance partner intentionally fell into his arms.

Fortunately, you had a mask on as well. Otherwise, your unpleasant glance would be visible to everyone in this room, including him.

You leaned your head slightly on your partner's shoulder. But you still kept an eye on Xavier. He was also observing your every move. Every time the other girl became close to Xavier, you did the same thing to your dance partner. This was supposed to be a mission, but it ended up being such a ridiculous competition.

One more dance and you got what you needed from the target. You made up an excuse and sneaked out onto the balcony alone. The starry sky loomed above you, and the aroma of flowers and grass bathed in night dew calmed you down. You removed your mask and set it on the railing. At that moment, a powerful hand was wrapped around your waist and gently squeezed.

You were startled. But immediately, you realized that the hand belonged to Xavier. He was approaching you from behind. He approached you from behind. His breath, which carried the delicate aroma of wine and cinnamon, breathed into your hair, before gradually sliding down the back of your neck, sending you slight trembles.

“Xavier?…What are you doing?…”

The mask he was still wearing tapped against your bare back exposed to the moonlight, causing you to shiver. Gently, Xavier laid kisses on it.

“Xavier!…” Your body was slightly bent, but his hand on your abdomen held you up. His other hand was around your neck, stabilizing you in that posture. A series of hasty kisses covered your back and shoulders. You bit your lip, waiting for him to speak while silently relishing the heated sensation radiating from the places where his lips met.

A little later, the hand holding you eased somewhat. You took that opportunity to turn around to face Xavier.

You could tell, even through the mask, he was hurt. He did not say a word, just looked at you like a puppy abandoned in the rain. You let out a soft sigh, wrapped your arms over his head to remove the mask. You pressed your palm against his cheek.

“Why did you do what you just did…” Your cheeks flushed, and you were certain that your back was now coated with traces of his. Xavier drew you back into his arms, grasping your hips once more.

“This mission…” He paused for a moment. “It's really too much for me.”

“Don't you like it, dancing intimately with such a beautiful girl?”

The scene of him holding someone else in his arms was enough to upset you. But it went both ways to Xavier, who was not able to hold his feelings any longer. To your surprise, he lifted you up and placed you on the railing. You felt guilty for unintentionally triggering Xavier's fury.

"I don't enjoy it one bit." Xavier replied bluntly. “Because, there is only one girl I have my eyes on in this universe and she is right in front of me.” His chilly fingers moved from your hip to your shoulder, then your neck. “I don't want anyone else to touch her.”

Before you could say anything, Xavier clasped your lips in a passionate kiss, sending your head spinning.

“No one else… but me…” Xavier whispered in very short pauses, then buried himself again in your embrace and scorching kisses.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

The high society banquet in Linkon City was truly a remarkable event. You also prepared meticulously for that day, as your latest mission needed you to meet a target at that party.

You had done quite well during the first two hours of the event. You looked graceful in a luxurious, tight-fitting black velvet dress, with long sleeves and a thigh-high slit. You spoke, laughed, drank, and danced with your target, and everything went perfectly until you noticed a familiar figure standing in the corner of the room, observing.

The guests were all wearing masks, and from such a distance, you wondered whether you were wrong. He would dislike such events. But you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being watched, attentively, by someone you knew well.

After completing the mission, you sneaked out through the path least noticed. Your feet hurt from dancing too much in high heels. So you pulled them off and wandered barefoot across the calm garden at night. The dew-soaked grass made your feet chilly, but it also provided a soothing and delightful feeling.

You sat and settled by the fountain. You removed your mask and threw it on the grass next to the shoes. Your feet had begun to swell. You stretched them out, placed your hands on the fountain, and elevated your face, allowing the silver moonlight to beam down on you as you felt relaxed and relieved after finishing your work for the day.

The sound of shoes treading on the grass jolted you awake. When you opened your eyes, you saw a figure standing between you and the moonlight, clothed in a flawlessly fitting black tuxedo. That was who you had suspected all along.

“Zayne?”

You called his name, and he took off his mask.

“It's really you!” You exclaimed, happy and astonished. "I didn't think you would attend events like this."

Zayne's face hardened, indicating seriousness. He examined you thoroughly, from your somewhat unkempt hair to the garment that clung to your body, displaying your curves and the bare thigh beneath it. He gently leaned down, one knee resting on the grass. His chilly palm touched your ankle, startling you.

“Z-Zayne!”

He gave you a glance, implying that you should remain still. His large thumb brushed over the irritated skin on your leg. Cool and comfy, as if being iced. You knew it was Zayne using his Evol.

“Seeing me here, are you surprised?”

You nodded; all words had vanished once Zayne touched you.

“I was invited. If I hadn't come, I probably wouldn't have caught you doing—"

He left the sentence incomplete without glancing at you.

"Caught me doing what?"

"…Nothing."

He tilted down and focused on rubbing your feet with all the gentleness that made you feel both comfortable and tickled.

“I think… my foot is fine now.”

Despite the fact that Zayne's Evol should have kept you cold, your body began to heat up. You were about to alter your posture to sit up straight, but he grabbed your ankle.It appeared so little in his massive, covered in scars hands.

"Be still." He whispered quietly. "Where do you want to go with feet like this?"

"I… have to go back to HQs to report for today's mission…" You made up an excuse. As soon as you left the banquet room, you sent all of the information to the headquarters.

"Mission? Is that the reason why you were intimate with that guy?”

Zayne gazed into your eyes. His face did not exhibit much expression, but his eyes were perplexing. Could it be that he was uncomfortable when he noticed you being close to someone else at the party?

Having hit the nail on the head, you pushed forward. You slipped your bare foot forward until it reached his chest.

"Maybe. But that man was really interesting. He's a doctor, too. Strangely, I was more interested in speaking with him than with some other doctors I knew."

Zayne's expression worsened. His hand shifted from your ankle to your foot, gripping firmly.

"Don't mess with me."

A giggle escaped your so red lips. “Or else? What would Dr. Zayne do to me?”

Zayne frowned. He gazed at your foot, which was still on his body. He softly stroked it and said:

"You're drunk."

"It seems so." You laughed again. Your toes started moving purposely against Zayne's chest. He grabbed them and to your surprise, he placed a kiss on the middle of your feet.

“Zayne!?”

You were so bewildered that you almost fell into the fountain. Zayne grabbed your leg and swiftly positioned his other hand behind you to support your back. Suddenly being so close to each other sent you a panic attack. You sensed a fresh scent like snow and wood emanating from his body. The sound of your heart beating was so loud that he could hear it clearly without a stethoscope.

He glanced at you for a minute before carefully returning to his former posture. His hand left your body, leaving you a little dissatisfied. As if reading you, he leaned forward again. One hand clutched the base of the fountain, exactly near to your hip, and almost immediately, you heard the sound of the water freezing, followed by silence. His other hand kept your leg tight to his torso. Long fingers caressed your calf and thigh. You trembled at the cold he delivered, but it was promptly followed by a tingling sensation throughout your body.

"Do you really like talking to him more than me?"

Zayne asked quietly. The hand that was sliding down your thigh came to a halt at the end of the dress's slit and then tightened, prompting you to cry out unintentionally.

Seeing your helpless reaction and crimson cheeks, a satisfied smile appeared from the corner of Zayne's mouth.

“I guess what you mean to say is, no.”

"You…"

You could feel Zayne's heat wrapping around your legs, in the place where your skin was exposed to the moonlight, then running all over your body. You sat still so he could continue to draw close, his lips gently brushing the corner of your lips provocatively.

“Now you will have to bear the consequences for teasing me.”

[wanderer-six]

THE GALA - A Clone Dating Sim

You are a Jedi General. The Council has assigned you a very important mission: the infiltration of a Separatist gala on Raxus. But you will not be going alone--you are allowed to bring a date on this adventure. In the heart of enemy territory, who will you count on to watch your back?

PLAY HERE: THE GALA

Ideal play experience is on desktop! (I think you can play on mobile it just looks a lil yuccy)

Clone bbs x Fem!Jedi player FEATURED CLONES: Sergeant Hunter, Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker, Captain Rex, Commander Wolffe, and ARC Twins Fives & Echo

RATING: 18+ MINORS DNI - The paths can be SFW or NSFW depending on your choices (2nd option is always the NSFW one!) - general warning for smut if you make those choices, more specifics below the cut!

Additional (less relevant) info beneath the cut!

HAPPY MAY 4TH! ENJOY MY LOVES~~

COMPREHENSIVE WARNINGS LIST: In general, lots of flirting, innuendo, pet names. Established relationship for all

Hunter: LOTS of flirting (he is a whore), p in v sex

Tech: Oral (f receiving)

Crosshair: Fingering

Wrecker: Not much for him honestly, implied canoodling (p in v), oblivious boy ♥

Captain Rex: dirty talk, praise, oral (m! Receiving)

Commander Wolffe: rough! p in v

Fives & Echo: Multiple clones (no clonec*st), lots of flirting, Echo is self conscious!

-ART ASSETS I drew all of the Clone art! I found the most nakedest screencap I could of any of them (SURPRISINGLY DIFFICULT) and then traced the base, then looked for Star Wars Male Fashion (WAY FUCKING HARDER) to draw on them and dress them up! I think for Hunter and Fives/Echo I just went crazy but for all the rest lmk if u can spot who I stole the outfits from, i deadass dont remember at this point For Background art I found them all on google images - from what I recall, it's mostly concept art and screenshots from games! -ENGINE I made this in Twine, an incredible tool for making text-based games! I highly recommend looking into it. It's really easy to use and there are a ton of tutorials online!

AN: Thank you so much for playing! Please let me know what you think, I had so much fun making this✨✨ it is so phenomenally cringe but I hope you all enjoy ♥ (also if you spot any bugs or typos, please feel free to let me know and I will fix!!)

TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE PATH I like Rex Crosshair Wrecker the best I think

"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana

[nesryn-x]

-----mdni-----

------18+-----

🩸🩸 BUTTER KNIVES🩸🩸

Human!Alastor x f!reader

blood / size kink / bitting / incorrect usage of knives / virgin reader / fucking in general / ALASTOR IS FILTHY AS HELL / porn with plot

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Your father always disapproved of him. A girl like you should never marry such man.

"A radio host? Pumpkin, you need a man who will be able to look after you when you grow old." Your father had said to you when you had gathered all your courage at dinner table one evening.

"But... I love him father..." You mumbled quietly.

"Love? You're far too young to know what love is. And besides, didn't you see at the ball how all the girls were looking at him? I can bet, that he looks at all the girls the same." Your father continued and dabbing at his moustache with napkin, cleared his throat:

"I must head out. Moon is out tonight and it's perfect for hunting. Lads will be waiting on me by now."

"Stay safe." Your mother kissed your father on cheek and saw him off. You were left sitting alone at the table, staring at your half eaten plate.

"Dont take it so hard, petal." Your mother stood next to you and gently run her hand through your hair.

"A man I respect is keeping me away from the man that my heart yearns for..." You sighed.

"Does father want me to marry someone I do not love? I'd kill myself in such marriage, mother."

"Don't even say such thing. You know your father is only looking out for you. For your future." Your mother said, trying to calm you.

"Alastor is also looking out for me." You narrowed your eyes at mother. With a hard look down at you, your mother advised:

"I think... It would be better if you did not see him anymore. Don't make your father angry, petal."

You looked up at her, not believing what she had just said.

"What..? Mama... How could you say such thing?" Your lip started to tremble. With blurry vision you looked around the table, butter knives shining in dim light. With angry huff you tried to brush your tears away and stood up, chair falling over in process. Your mother took a step back:

"Behave now." Mother said in sharp tone. You took a quick glance at the clock on the mantle piece and then bolted for the door.

"Where are YOU going at such hour?!" Your mother grabbed your hand before you even got two steps away from table.

"Clearly away from here." You spat, not breaking eye contact.

"You will sit back down, finish your dinner and go straight to bed." Your mother stated, her grip on your arm tightening. What she didn't notice, was how your other hand sneaked behind you and blindly reached for the first thing - the glimmering butter knife.

"I will not do such thing. Now. Let. Go." You said through gritted teeth.

"That's it. You insolent daughter." Your mother's hand reached up to grab your hair, but before she could do so - you were pointing the knife at her.

With wide eyes, both of you stared at the knife that was between you two.

"Mother.... I'm so sorry... I didn't mean--"

Your mother looked up at you and in one swift motion slapped you right across your face. With a cry you clutched your cheek and finally escaped the house. Leaving your mother to seeth back at the doorstep.

Quickly running down the front stairs of the house, you bolted across the yard. Ducked through the wooden fence that held your father's horses out of mother's garden, and run bare feet in the field. Trying to put as much distance between her and yourself.

When you finally had reached the other far off side of stockyard, you felt like you could breath again. Not bothering to climb over the fence you sat in the wet dewy grass and leaned against the fence pole. Distinct sounds of hunters gunshots and hound howls echoed in the forest behind.

You looked down at your hands. Right one still clutching the butter knife. From holding it incorrectly in your hand while on the run, you had accidentally nicked your fingers. New tears gathered in your eyes and you let out pathetic whimper.

"Y/n...?" You heard steps approaching on the other side of the fence on the gravel road.

"A-Alastor?" You immediately jumped up. Switching the knife from one clammy hand to other and hiding it behind your back. Now free hand, whipped your nose and cheeks, unknowingly to you - leaving red streaks across your face.

"What has my darling doe crying?" He quickly approached the fence when he picked up on your sniffling.

"Its fine, Alastor. Just had quarrel with my mother." You tried to laugh it off.

"A bloody one, as I see." He eyed you, reaching for your cheek. You tried to step away, but his warm touch was so inviting.

"Show me your hands, love." he said. He wasn't asking.

Swallowing thickly you brought both hands in front of you. Feeling like child in trouble. Trembling, and both bloody by now.

"We were having family dinner. And my father was reminiscing on the previous ball. And asked if I fancied any men there-" Alastor eyed you sharply for a second, unknowingly to you as you kept on rambling:

"-and I said that there was a man that I have had eyes for such long time, that the other men at the ball didn't even interest me. And he asked who. I said it's you. And he said that I should look elsewhere. I stood my ground and told him I love you. And he disapproved. Then mother said I should listen to him. Then she was screaming, saying I should stop seeing you. I got angry. She grabbed me. Tried to pull my hair and I... I just -I just pulled a knife at her... And then... And now I'm here..." You ranted so quickly that now you were out of breath.

With gentle chuckle, Alastor reached for your hand that was holding the knife, his ever seeing eyes, noticing the cuts on your other palm. He slowly frapped your fingers alongside his around the hilt of the butter knife and pulled both of your hands across the fence.

"When in dire straits, slice the sinew to halt movement," he murmured, gently drawing the knife across his chest. "Stab and pivot to temporarily cease motion," he directed, gesturing towards the center of his chest.

"You're wicked, Alastor..." You mumbled looking up at him.

"And you should never shed your blood. Though I am touched by your eagerness in defending your convictions concerning me, I would prefer not to witness your blood spilled, my love."

"Even if blood is such a pretty colour on you." He continued, his eyes flickering across your face. Standing up on the first wooden beam of the fence, he now stood way taller than you. Grabbing your chin he tilted your face one way, then the other.

"Since you say I'm wicked-" he gave you a cheeky smile,

"I might be afraid that your parents are correct. You should stay away from me." He looked away from you and across the field behind you.

"But I love you, Alastor..." You whispered so quietly, afraid that he might not have heard you.

"You have brought a knife in bloody hands tonight. What an odd way of confessing one's love." He bent his head closer to your face.

"What a lovely thing you are." His voice suddenly sounded sultry. It was enough for you to stand on your tippy toes and press your lips against his.

You could feel his smile against your lips. One of his hands sneaking to hold the back of your neck and pulling you closer. When that was not enough, in swift motion his legs swung over the fence and he was right in front of you. His lips never leaving yours.

It felt so right to kiss him. To kiss him felt like finally quelling an obsession. Just to feel the painful withdrawal as soon as his lips traveled to your neck to leave love bites there. Love bites that bloomed the same way as the blood splatters on your light summer dress.

His hands traveled down your back, the butter knife still in his hand. Both of you knew that no one would come down this road at this hour, but there was urgency in your actions. Desperation, almost. Your hands traveled to the front of his shirt, to get rid of the bow tie and open couple of buttons.

"The next move shan't be quite gentlemanly of me, my doe.." he was breathing hard and put the hilt of the knife in his mouth. His tongue briefly tasted your blood on it. Alastor's hands deftly gathered the skirt part of your dress and pushed you against the fence. Then raising the fabric around your hips and bunching it to the side, he grabbed the knife and pinned your dress to the fence.

"Alastor..." Your breath caught in your throat as your lower half was exposed to the cold nights air.

"Too much?" He asked, now stepping closer as his hands worked on his belt.

He clearly did intend to fuck you here. In empty field. Against a fence. In middle of the night.

"No, just perfect, you're perfect..." you breathed, hands looping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

"Lovely." He whispered and kissed you. His hand reaching down between your legs.

"Ah..." You moaned at the first contact.

"Needy little thing you are..." Alastor sighed against your lips, feeling the wetness between your legs.

It was the first time someone else's hands were touching you down there, besides your own. Feeling was not entirely new, but the anticipation was almost killing you. Your hand around Alastor's neck tightened, pulling him down, so you could hide your face in his shoulder. Breath heavy against his neck.

His fingers deftly slid through your slit.

"How.. many...?" Alastor implied, trying to shift his face away and look at you, making him pull his hand slightly away and his fingers circling back to your clit.

"Ah.." you gasped, not hearing his question and just trying to hide your face again.

"Sweetheart..." Alastor's hand slid from your cunt and instead dug his fingers in - right where your thigh met your pussy. This finally got your attention and your head shot up to look at him. You could almost swear that you could see your own debauched image reflecting in his glasses. He tilted his head down at you, and your reflection was gone and his warm eyes were staring right into your soul.

"How many men you have sle-" before he could ask the question you were shaking your head.

"None. No one." You said. "None has touched me this way," you looked down at his hand between your legs. His pointer finger that was closest to your pussy, slowly slid through your slit once more. Your head fell back and you stared at the sky. Stars were slowly starting to appear in the night sky.

"... except myself." You swallowed. Your head feeling empty of any coherent thought. Alastor's mouth fell open slightly:

"Say the word, and I'll stop, my doe..." He leaned down to your exposed neck, and gently run his nose up and down your pulse point.

Your hand shot down and grabbed his wrist:

"I want you and you alone."

His smile against your neck was almost infectious.

"Well, then... To rephrase..." He planted slow, open-mouthed kisses against your shoulder, his free hand pulling your dress down your shoulder. He moved his lips against your ear, as if to tell you something that no one else could ever hear:

"...How many of your own fingers have you taken?" you could hear his wicked smile in his voice. And you could feel his hand moving between your legs. His middle finger slowly, almost feather lightly, circled your clit and slid down to your opening. Your breath hitched:

"A-Alastor..."

When you didn't provide him the answer, he quickly pulled his hand out of your underwear and grabbed your hand putting it up between both of you. He pressed his palm against yours and looked at your hands. You did the same. Both of you could see how his fingers shined in the moonlight from your wetness coating them.

"Tell me."

"One."

"How far?"

You were staring at your pressed together hands. He was looking straight at you, watching how your eyes showed the realization of how much bigger his hands were and how longer his fingers were.

"Second knuckle..." You whispered and your eyes met his, over the frames if his glasses.

"Oh, my little doe... I will give you so much more than that..." He chuckled and looked at your hands as his fingers interlinked with yours.

"When I kneel before you, you shall receive all I offer. Diligently." He let go of your hand and took off his glasses.

"Understood?"

You nodded. For such a gentleman, he definitely had such a filthy mouth. You'll soon learn it both ways.

"Hold these for me, will you?" He innocently asked and put his glasses on you, quite lower so you could stare over the round frames. Before you could say anything else, he was on his knees in the dewy grass, both of his hands sliding up your bare legs. His lips gently leaving kisses on your hips as he dragged your panties down your legs. You couldn't look away from him. His soft lips moving from one hip, across your stomach to the other side. His fingers running between your folds, time to time coming up to circle your clit and then tease your entrance by dipping in a fingertip.

"Mark me..." you breathed out as one of your hands slid to his hair.

"That will hurt." He looked up at you.

"You won't hurt me. I trust you, Al..." You said through a moan.

"...where...?" He quietly inquired.

God, please, everywhere.

"Here..." you gently tapped your hip. Alastor smiled, leaned closer, pressed his lips to the top of your hand and then gently bit your fingertip.

"This shall mean you're mine, my love, I hope you are preparing for the consequences that it ensues." He said against your skin as you pulled your hand away.

"I was yours as soon as our eyes locked when I saw you riding horses with the hunters all those years ago..." You moaned as his fingers circled your clit, as if he was encouraging you to finish your though. Next second, you felt his teeth sink into your skin and his middle finger plunging into you.

"Alastor! Ah.." both of your hands flew to his hair, as your hips jerked against his hand.

"Shhh.." Alastor smiled against the blooming love bite. His eyes then locked on how you were taking his finger.

"Good girl." His smiled and looked up at you. His other hand joining to circle your clit.

"Oh Lord..." You moaned. He playfully rolled his eyes at you and leaned his temple against your hip.

"Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well." He praised, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He twisted his finger and you let out a high pitch keen.

"Look at me." He straighted a little. Your eyes locked with his. Opening his mouth, he stuck his tongue out. Your eyes grew big, and a flash of warmth traveled down from your chest to your legs. Your pussy involuntary clamping down on his finger. And then his mouth was on you. As soon as his tongue got the first taste of you, his eyes fell shut and he moaned against you, sending vibrations straight through you.

"Ahh...ha...." You moaned loudly, both hands moving to his hair and pulling it. He lapped at your pussy as if he was a starving man. He sucked on your clit and then you felt a second finger stretching you open.

"Please.... Just don't stop..." You moaned, your hips jerking against his mouth. His fingers picked up the speed and your breathing did the same.

"I think I'm going to..." Your hold on his hair grew tighter and you were starting to push his mouth harder against your weeping cunt. Alastor grunted, his hand that was constantly squeezing your ass traveled down to his crotch and palmed himself. His pants growing too tight.

Alastor curled his fingers forward and sucked hard on your clit. With a loud cry you came on his fingers and tongue. You yourself could never reach such intense peak. Your toes curled, your knees almost wishing to pull together. You pressed Alastor's head closer to your dripping core, at the moment careless if he could breathe or not.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckkk..." Your eyes rolled back into your skull. For a moment you felt weightless, your hands falling away from his hair, to hold onto to the fence beams that you were leaning against.

Flatly dragging his tongue from your twitching hole up your slit to the clit, he placed chaste kiss on your mound. Alastor leaned back and looked up at you.

When you had gathered at least some wits about you, you looked down at him. His chin and lips were glistening from your cum.

"You taste sweet." He gave you a wink and licked his lips.

"Alastor..." You whispered his name and in swift motion crossed your hands and pulled the dress over your head. Leaving it hanging by the knife. Alastor was caught off guard and sat back, his hands slowly starting to unbutton his vest and then his shirt.

Was Alastor intending to fuck you against the fence or where you intending to ride him in the dewy grass?

In two quick steps you were in front of him and straddling his hips. Your lips immediately seeking out his and hands helping him to unbutton his shirt faster. With a groan he pulled away and grabbing your hand dragged it down his chest to the front of his pants. Unzipping his pants you dipped your hand in his boxers.

"Fuck..." He moaned, his eyes rolling back. You wrapped your hand around his cock and gently freed him from the confines of his pants.

"How is that going to fit...?" You blurted out when you looked down at him and gave him two long strokes.

"... perfectly..." He hissed through his teeth and threw his head back when your thumb swiped across his dripping tip. You switched your hands, and raised now free hand up to your face. Alastor looked at you through lidded eyes. Gently you licked your finger, tasting him on your skin. Seeing you do that, Alastor's hips jerked up into your fist and his eyes fluttered shut.

"Lover." He gritted through clenched teeth. His hands coming to hold your hips. You only smiled at your ability to drive him as insane and he was driving you. You slid your hand down to his base and gently squeezed.

"Cheeky little thing..." Alastor opened his eyes and pulled you in for a kiss by your neck. It was slow but messy. Tongues twisting, saliva smearing against both of your lips.

You got up on your knees and wrapped your hands around Alastor's neck. However, he grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his cock alongside his own.

"Now, now." He smiled against your lips. "You gotta learn how to take it. Put. It. In." Alastor whispered absolute filth against your lips and moved your hand so that his cock dragged through your soaked folds.

With a shaky breath you dragged his cock through your folds once more. Pausing on your clit and moaning against Alastor's lips.

"Yes... Take your pleasure..." He whispered.

Then moving his cock down, you pushed it's tip against your entrance. And then with a hissfrom your mouth, your hips were flush with his. The unknown feeling between your legs made you bite Alastor's lip. He groaned in your mouth, but didn't pull away if both of you felt the tangy taste of blood.

Alastor was patient with you, and let you decide when and how to move. But once your hips started to twitch against his, Alastor ground hips up into yours. His warm hands moved up to your back and shoulder blades to pull you closer. Your own hands tangled themselves in his dark hair and scratched down his back. By now your moans were echoing the same as the hounds of the hunters.

"Harder.. Al... Please..." You moaned against his cheek, as your hips moved up and down. Your desperate cunt twitching around his cock and making Alastor moan in your ear.

Next moment you were on your back, your legs on his shoulders as he leaned over you. Your eyes locked with his. Both of you as mirrored image to each other. Hair disheveled, foreheads sweaty, short rapid breaths. And then he was fucking you as if this is the last night out here with stars. As if the coming morning you won't stop by the coffee shop where he gets his morning dose of caffeine.

The way his cock so deliciously dragged against your walls - you had nothing in this world to compare it to. Leaking tip of his cock was carving your cunt out with every push back in, and each drag of it made you clench around him. As if to say, that you need him back in and not let him pull out.

You grabbed Alastor's cheeks:

"I'm in love with you...." He said first, as if he had read your thoughts on what you were about to say.

"I love you." You smiled back and pulled him in for a kiss that was broken by your moan as Alastor gave harsh thrust, hitting your cervix. Making you lose your breath momentarily.

"More.. please..." You begged, your cunt twitching around him.

"Fuck..." Alastor moaned, his hips taking on harsher and faster movements. You could swear that you felt him in your guts. Your hand traveled down your stomach and pressed on the outline of his cock. He smirked at you, as if saying that no other cock will ever be this deep, no one ever will pleasure you the same way.

"You're mine..." He groaned. Letting your legs off his shoulders, he pulled your lower lip with his thumb until your mouth opened and he could slide his finger in. Your tongue latched around his digit and sucked hard, making him stutter in his movements as he wondered how to use that mouth of yours in other ways.

With press on your tongue, your mouth opened once more, Alastor pulled his finger out and dived in to kiss you. Your tongues meeting before your lips could. You moaned in his eager mouth as his wet thumb now circled your clit. Your hips raising to meet his thrusts. When your wandering hands were enough for him, he grabbed them and pinned both of them above your head.

"Keep them there..." He said breathlessly and leaned back lifting your hips with his.

He was fucking you like drowning animal would fight for air. And the pleasure was rapidly pulling both of you under. The way your cunt clenched around him more and more frequently, was a sign that you were close. As if not being able to stand not touching him, your hand raised to rest on his stomach, feeling the lean muscles flexing there.

Not wanting to soil you on your first sexual encounter, Alastor was ready to pull out when your legs wrapping around his hips locked him in place. Sliding his hands up your legs and then sides, he leaned over you.

Your orgasm approached you unknowingly, as such intense feeling you have never felt before.

"I got you. Just let go." Alastor said against your chest as his forehead rested against your collarbone. With a moan that stole all your breath - you came. Alastor's name tumbling out of your lips like the sweetest honey. Your body arched off the ground and pressed against Alastor. Not knowing what to do with your hands as all nerve ends felt like going haywire, you opt to grab Alastor's hips and, as if your legs being locked around him wasn't enough, you pulled him against you.

Corrupting such sweet doe as yourself felt so rewarding. He could almost feel your orgasm on his tongue. Perhaps that was just taste of your cunt that kept lingering on his tongue. His own hips stuttered and with deep groan he came deep inside you, his teeth latching on the side of your left breast, leaving another love bite to remind you of this night of debaucheries.

For a moment neither of you moved. Still ongoing gunfires of hunters and howls of hounds could be heard echoing, meaning that hunt was still on. And you could return home without your father seeing you here.

Alastor wrapped one hand around your back and gently laid you back on ground.

"I must beg your pardon. A lady such as yourself ought never to be deflowered in such a place for the first time." He said quietly against your soft breasts that were still raising and falling in short breaths.

"Oh, hush. I enjoyed myself very much so." You took a deep breath trying to steady your breathing. Alastor looked at you and you smiled at him. Gently running your hands through his hair in order to tame it.

Steadying himself on his hands, Alastor pulled out and couldn't help but to stare at your cunt that was already leaking his cum. Catching him staring, ought to teas him a little bit. Bending your legs you spread them open. Gaining Alastor's attention, you trailed one hand down your body and dipped your fingertips in your folds. Shyly looking to the side you spread your folds, making more cum leak out. Alastor was watching your hand like it was a prey.

"Darling-" Alastor warned as his lashes fluttered. He leaned to kiss your knee instead. Fighting so hard not to take your overstimulated body the second time.

"We should talk in the morning." Alastor got up with a sigh, tucked himself away and walked over to the fence to retrieve your dress.

You quietly got dressed, not questioning anything. You weren't sure what we're you to say in such moment. While you were getting dressed you couldn't help but stare as Alastor was putting on his shirt. His skin on the back scratched by your nails. Or how the fingers you had cut had smeared blood all over his body.

"Shall I escort you home?" Alastor turned to you.

"No. It's late, we both should be getting home and to bed. And besides, I know this field like back of my hand." You shook your head.

"Alright." Alastor tilted his head to the side and smiled. He walked up to you and gently took off his glasses from you.

"Not a scratch. Good girl." He praised you, leaning down to your eye level. Your cheeks immediately flushed red and you quickly pressed your lips against his.

As he watched you walk back home, you couldn't help the smile that was on your lips. The faithful butter knife clutched carefully in your hands, will be neatly stored in your vanity as a reminder.

Meanwhile Alastor was sitting on the fence, watching you walk away, with skip in your step. Once you were far enough, he hauled himself over the fance, back on the road. What you had not seen at the very beginning, was that Alastor had come with knive of his own. Quite menacing butcher knife, that he had wedged in the nearby tree.

You were almost home. You had just ducked through the fence and walked quietly across the yard when, one, so much differently sounding gunshot, made you turn back around and stare at the field where you had come from....

-----------

Part 2?

[sundew199]

The comfort of you

Tags: zoro x f!reader, fluff

Zoro loves watching you sleep, loves watching the way your guard falls easily when you’re alone with him, like the only source of comfort is his presence. He considers it an honor to know you feel safe and comfortable enough to sleep, even more so when he finds out you force yourself to stay awake around others. He smiles to himself when he traces your soft cheek with his finger, how your brows twitch at the touch, pulling a soft laugh from him.

You sleep so deeply on his chest, a trail of drool beginning at the corner of your mouth, never quite reaching his own skin. Zoro refuses to sleep when you do, his mind racing with thoughts as he looks at you. How pretty you are, how kind and accepting, how you fell for him of all people. That part is still a mystery, remembering how closed off and brash he was to you at first, honed in on his goal. But his heart kept pulling you to him, like a magnet in the vicinity of the opposite pole, stretching to connect.

Zoro often wonders of the life he can give you outside of piracy, when his life long goals have been met, when he succeeds in aiding his captain in his. Will you still want to be with him? Would you consider a slow normal life where he could teach the art of the sword to young minds? Would your love inflame or dwindle now that thrill of life on the sea was over?

He likes to think it won’t, but he’s never been sure, he can’t place all his eggs into one basket, even if he yearns to. All he wants is to grow old together, tell stories to the students that’ll learn from him or maybe even the children he’ll give you. He’d like that actually, a couple of copies of you and him, something he was once so adamantly against, but you had such an odd way of softening his hard nos.

His mind races with possibilities when he watches you sleep, the good and the bad. There are things he wants to tell you that dance in his mind but fear of jinxing it if he says it out loud. Like how he wants to seal his love for you in a ceremony, make you his wife and let the world know that the famed pirate hunter now vice captain of the straw hat pirates has a heart softened by only you. Or how he wants to end his night with you in a home over tea and sake, let you lean back into his chest and you watch the sun set over the sea and the wind rustle the cherry blossoms.

Zoro allows himself to feel when you sleep on or next to him, feel how your beating heart synchs with his and how real you are against him. His life is filled with uncertainty that is almost certain, but he never questions you or the lengths he would go to ensure you’re in his life till the end. Zoro can’t imagine you not rolling over in bed to greet him with a kiss, whether on the sunny or the home he brings you too after this adventure has closed.

Anticipation for a future with you is so sweet, so sought after by him that he has to remind himself to cherish each day, because he knows he’ll miss the lapping waves outside of his cabin on the sunny as you curl into his chest, resting up for whatever the crew gets into on the next island they’ll land at. He’ll miss the way you’ll drag him away from a party thrown by their captain for a private kiss or two, pressing you to the wall with a bottle of sake in his hand or yours, drunkenly giggling as your lips find each others. He’ll miss the way you smile at him when he joins you in Nami’s orchard, forcing you to nap under the sun with him. But he also can’t wait for the quiet slow life of just you and him and a possible family.

Watching you sleep and envisioning the future has become so dear to him, he just can’t bring himself to close his eye and join you, making up for the lack of sleep during the day. He sees everything he wants with you in the content expression on your face, tracing your features with a calloused finger and dotting your moonlit skin in feather light kisses.

“I love you.”

Is what he says into your ear as he settles in finally beside you, his body no longer able to stay awake like he wants. Carefully adjusting you so you’re heart will beat on top of his, lulling him into a dream that he can’t wait to have, knowing it’ll be filled with your bright smile and warm eyes, pulling him along to wherever the future with you holds, hoping to experience it outside of his mind one day soon.

[pinky-in-blankets]

"Oh dear.. it's almost February and I still haven't the faintest idea of what to gift my little scaredy cat.."

"It's rather irritating.. what do you even get a Popstar? She receives gifts from her subjects all the time.. So something usual is out of the question. None of my subordinates have any decent gift ideas for a Conjunx Endura, so I'm placed in an annoyingly compromising position."

"Ha! That sounds more like a You problem. I know exactly what I'm gonna end up doing for Cottontail. She'll never see it coming~☆"

"Really..? Because I just overheard you speaking with The Maren about how you have no clue what to do for such a 'Mushy Holiday'. Or was that just my imagination..?"

"Might wanna take abreak from stewing in darkness. All that negativity must've gotten to your brain, big guy. You're totally crazy if you think i had no idea what im doing."

"Funny, Because is that not exactly what you said to me five minutes ago?"

" Shut It Reala-"

[thirdsaltyhunter]

If I Catch You

Summary: Dean chasing you through the halls of the bunker in a ghostface mask, what more do you need

Warning: SMUT, if I catch you I f*ck you trope, mask k*nk, choking, praise, edging, manhandling

A/N: did I forget to post this yesterday cause I was to busy partying... yes but hopefully you'll enjoy this enough to forgive me

You had always loved Halloween even despite being a hunter. It brought back the happy memories from your childhood, when there were no worries, the monsters were only people in masks and the good guys always won at the end of every scary movie. Dean shared your appreciation for the holiday. Even before you and him started dating, you would often spend Halloween nights curled up on motel beds, watching horror marathons with all the snacks and sugar you could handle. Sam on the other hand didn't see the appeal. Sometimes he would join you in your movie watching, but it was mostly to appease you and avoid ridicule from Dean.

This year you and your boyfriend had the bunker all to yourself. Sam had chosen to spend the night with Eileen and leave the two of you to your festivities.

The empty bunker allowed the perfect opportunity for you and Dean to play out a fantasy that you had talked about a few nights before, when you were cuddled up bingeing the Scream franchise.

"Ghostface is hot," you blurted randomly in the middle of the movie. You mostly said this to see his reaction, but there was a hint of truth to your statement.

"Why?" he said in utter confusion. He paused the movie and looked down at you in his arms.

You shrugged. "I don't know masked men are just hot."

"Masked men?" he tried to hide the hint of amusement.

"Oh yeah, it's a real popular thing now. I can show you all the thirst trap videos."

"Yeah I don't need to see that."

You laughed at his look of disgust before he continued.

"So what your saying is that I need to get a Ghostface mask, hm?" he said with a smirk.

"I mean I wouldn't mind, have you chase me through the halls in it." You tilted your head back to face him, your lips almost touching.

"What happens when I catch you?", he asked with a devious smile, his hold on you tightening slightly.

"You'll have to find out," you responded, your voice sultry and teasing.

"I think that can be arranged."

One costume store purchase later and you found yourself in only a set of sexy underwear, standing in the empty hallway. The concrete floor was cool under your bare feet, but your racing pulse kept you from being cold.

Dean had given you a head start before he would try to come and find you. Your excitement was growing. He wasn't going to chase you, if it came down to a sprint race, Dean would win every time. No, he was going to hunt you. You knew this made the game more even, but you also knew that he was crafty and smart. Though in all honesty you wanted to be caught, you were just going to be a little tease before you let him find you.

You had just rounded the corner by the kitchen, when the power went out, causing the bunker's red emergency lights to come on.

Nice touch, you thought.

You heard his voice echo through the hall, signaling that he was coming to find you. Your adrenaline was pumping. Not out of fear, you knew Dean would never hurt you, but out of anticipation for what would happen when he found you.

You slipped into kitchen looking for a spot to hide. Unsatisfied with the spots, you head to the library. You hid in the far corner behind one of the shelves and waited. You listened for his footsteps but heard nothing, years of hunting had trained him to be light on his feet. When you finally heard his voice call your name he was much closer than you expected. He purposefully stepped heavy coming up the stairs from the War Room, his boots thudding against the stone.

You took the opportunity to dart out the door in the back of the library. The bookcase blocked you from his view, but he definitely heard the door shut. You bolted down the back hall, heart pounding as you rounded the corner just as the door opened behind you.

Quietly you slipped into one of the bedrooms and hid under the bed. You listened until his footsteps passed the door and went down the hall. Crawling out from your hiding spot, you checked to make sure the hall was empty before sprinting the opposite direction.

As you ran past the next hall you saw him rounding the other end. You picked up the pace, knowing he had seen you. You turned the next corner and stopped, pressing your back against the cool tile wall to catch your breath. When you decided the coast was clear you went to move to the next hall, when an arm wrapped around your middle, you back pinned to his chest.

You tried to wriggle from his grasp just making it free when you stumbled. You caught yourself, but his hand caught your ankle dragging you across the polished concrete floor and pulling you under him.

He rolled you over and you came face to face with the black eyes and long mouth of the mask, illuminated by the red glow of the lights. This was the first time you had actually seen him in the mask and it was even hotter than you imagined. When he pinned your hands above your head you knew you weren't getting away.

"Gotcha," he growled.

"What are you going to do with me now?" you said through panting breaths, partially from running, partially from how incredibly turned on you were right now.

"You'll have to find out," he responded before using one hand to pull his belt from his jean and loop it around your wrists.

Ok that was hot.

When your hands were secured, he stood up scooping you up off the floor and tossing you over his shoulder, delivering a quick smack to your ass before walking toward your shared bedroom. It wasn't often that he manhandled you like this and you were loving every second of it.

When you got to the bedroom, he tossed you onto the bed and straddled your legs. He hooked two fingers into the belt around your wrists.

"You want this to stay on?" he asked.

You nodded eagerly. Even being dominant and aggressive, he never wanted to push you limits, solely focused on giving you what you wanted.

"Stay," he ordered, getting up from the bed to strip down to his boxers, leaving the mask in place.

You watched him with lust blown eyes, your chest still rising and falling rapidly as you admired his body. He moved to the end of the bed, grabbing your ankle and pulling you to the end. Your underwear was pulled down your legs and tossed over his shoulder. He wrapped you legs around his hips and you could feel his clothed erection. You moaned grinding down on him until his arm crossed you hips, holding you still.

He ran two finger through your slick. '"So wet for me. Is this just from me chasing you?"

You nodded again.

He lowered to his knee, his masked face coming level with your dripping cunt. Two of his fingers dipped into you, immediately curling into the spot that made your back arch and your knees weak. Your head fell back letting the pleasure wash over you.

From the box under the bed, he pulled out your vibrator. He planned to torture you tonight.

"Don't cum until I'm inside you. Do you understand me?" he said turning the toy to the lowest setting and pressing it to your clit.

"Yes," you moaned, hands gripping the sheet above your head. You didn't know how long you were going to last. You were already on the edge of release and he had hardly touched you yet.

As you got close he removed the vibrator, running his hand up your thighs and squeezing your hips to sooth you. You whined and looked at him between you legs. You tried to give him your best puppy eyes, but you couldn't see his expression. You only were met with the blank stare of the mask and the vibrations returning to your sensitive cunt.

He continued teasing you, edging you another four or five times. You hated it and loved it at the same time. It amazed you how he knew exactly where to keep you on edge, or at least it would amaze you, if there was a single part of your brain that could think straight.

"Dean," you whined again, desperate for release.

"Beg for it," he responded sternly, fingers dipping inside you again.

"Please, fuck me." You squirmed, you didn't know if you wanted to get away from he sensation or fuck yourself on his fingers.

He sped up his motions and leaned over you body until he was face to face with you. You could just barely see his eyes, but you knew he was watching you fall into ecstasy.

"Please," you begged.

He removed his fingers and dropped his boxers. His cock was thick and dripping precum, edging you had teased him almost equally as much. He pulled your hips even closer to the edge of the bed and hooked your shaking legs over his shoulders. His hands gripped your hips firmly as he slid into you, filling you completely.

He watched your face as your head fell back in pleasure, a loud moan escaping your lips.

"That's my girl," he praised, running his hands up and down your sides, desperately trying to keep himself together.

He started thrusting into you, slow, but so deep you could hardly take it.

"Look at me," he said, his hand came up to circle around your throat to put your attention back on him.

Your eyes opened to watch as he fucked you. You could see a blush of exertion creeping down his neck from under the mask. He gently added pressure to the sides of your throat as the speed of his hips increased.

Your hands reached for him as you got closer to falling apart. Noticing how close you were, he started to circle your clit with his thumb. You came with cry of his name, your hand gripping his forearm, his hand loosening from your throat, causing you to feel almost high.

He planted his hand beside your head as his hips stuttered and he came with a deep moan. You both stilled for a few minutes, panting and trying to regain your bearings.

After a moment, he gently pulled out to go get a towel to clean up your combined mess. You squirmed from the sensitivity as he wiped you down. He whispered an apology before tossing the rag and undoing the belt from your wrists.

Finally removing the mask, he ran a hand down his face and smiled down at you. It was funny to see him have that boyish grin after playing the sexy, dangerous slasher for the past hour. He lifted you up to place you at the top of the bed against the pillows.

"That was awesome," he said, laying down beside you and wrapping you in his arms.

"Yeah it was, I fucking love you." You laughed and buried your head in his neck.

"I love you too sweetheart, and I love that I can do things like this with you."

You nodded in agreement before you started to feel how worn out you were.

Both of you were exhausted from your activities and quickly fell asleep, deciding to take a nap before settling down for a night of Halloween movies and junk food.