#he does look sexy in that robe

[journey-to-the-attic]

the new nightmare is cool but i think not putting them in hanfu was an missed opportunity

(+ long hair version that i wasn't as sure about)

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

Vincent Price - Adventures of Captain Fabian (1951)

[skyrimsweetpotato]

for the TES pin up challenge "spellcraft" prompt (late!! but it's here)

[lalunanymph]

୨⎯ 🖤⎯୧ 𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐃É𝐌𝐎𝐍

driven by a desperate need to uncover the truth behind your visions after the chaos at the auction, you strike a deal with sylus to unlock more of your memories… only to discover far more than what you bargained for

𓇢𓆸 MONSTERFUCKING, explicit smut with sylus in his demon form, cumflation, predicament bondage (he ties you up with his evol), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, nightmare landscapes, references to GOETHE'S "FAUST" AND HADES imagery for my rendition of sylus' origin, religious imagery, sacrilege, mentions of food, mentions of blood, mentions of death, reader goes insane, mentions of gore, mentions of violence, reader and sylus had a child together, sexy but it's also pretty angsty wbk, this is barely edited ... sorry ...

They say that no one understands human curiosity quite like a demon does.

Once angels with the entire heavens at their feet, their eyes now scorch the earth searching for souls to entrap and torture, striking deals in turn for pounds of flesh they devour once a mortal leaves the realm. 

Demons were cunning and ruthless creatures who struck fear into every heart they encountered; whose natural oozing charm and demeanor could convince even the most stalwart of men to sell their soul in exchange for a paltry consolation prize. 

In a way, Sylus reminds you of a demon. 

If it weren't for the deal you struck with him to bring you to the auction at the hotel, you wouldn't be stuck in this liminal situation where you know too much, but not enough.

After the incident at the Salon Hotel where your memories were coming back in pieces and fragments, frustration stole the last of your rationality and you all but begged the towering, intimidating lord of the N109 underworld to help you gain more of your recollections back.

At first, he had refused to do so with no reason given. 

But, just as you overestimate how stubborn he can be, he underestimates just how persistent you are in turn. 

Sitting across from him in nothing but a scarlet robe he had gifted you, the runny morning sunlight spilling across the mahogany table does nothing to warm you up from the inside out. You're still jittery from the explosion and the fight with that strange looking Wanderer, all while your lover (partner?) appears both nonchalant and nonplussed despite almost losing his life a few nights ago. 

"I can hear the wheels in your head turning, sweetie."

Sylus finally puts down the book he's been reading for the past half an hour, peering at you over his glasses. 

You clear your throat and reach for the glass of pomegranate juice the personal chef had prepared, whetting your throat and your lips for what you have to say next.

"Sylus, it's been days since the last time we were at the hotel," you pause, biting your lower lip. "Don't you think I deserve an explanation of what happened? What I saw in those... flashbacks?" 

If you could even call them that.

The dagger in your hand. The blood stains on your fingers. A towering, dark figure whose touch was more familiar than you could ever believe. It all felt too real and tangible. 

Much, much too tangible. 

As much as you try to ignore it, bury your curiosity six feet under where you could never see it again, your innate Hunter instincts tell you there's something big he's not telling you. 

Something he can't tell you.

Sylus' exaggerated exhale grates your ears and he gives you a scrutinizing look all over.

"I told you—"

"You have no idea what set off those flashbacks, yeah, I heard," you bite back, seething.

A shadow of a grin teases the corners of his lips. "Seems like the little kitten has her claws ready. Whatever is bothering you, sweetie?" 

Bristling at his patronizing tone, your glare sharpens, your grip around the glass tightening. 

"I want to know the truth, Sy." You lean back in the chair and cross your arms. "The whole truth. And nothing but. Why did I have those visions? Why were you in them? Why can't my memories come back no matter how hard I try to remember?" 

You expect him to scoff or play elusive with you like he usually does. But, for the first time since you've met him, Sylus is wearing a pensive look, one which draws the angles of his face to look older than his 28 years of age. 

"Are you sure you want to know?" 

His voice is hoarser than you expect, and you perk up in disbelief.

"You-you're willing to tell me?" 

His crimson eyes flicker to the pomegranate juice in your hands.

"I would like to. But, it depends on if you can handle the truth, little bird." 

You squint at him through narrowed eyes, trying to uncover the ploy he has up his sleeve. Trusting Sylus didn't come naturally to you, though you did try for the sake of the Aether Core bond connecting you both. 

"I can handle it," you mutter decisively. "You've seen what happened after the hotel explosion—I can handle it."

The sunlight cascading behind you drenches half of his face in the shadows, a look of deep contemplation etched in his countenance. 

"Alright." He stands up, and without another moment to spare, rummages in his fridge, fishing out a whole pomegranate and peeling it with nimble, sure fingers. Your curiosity simmers to a boiling point when he taps out a handful of seeds, placing it in a bowl and pushing it right towards you.

"Eat up." 

Cautiously, you assess the blood red seeds, wondering if this was a test or some sort for him to evaluate you. 

“What is this?” 

Those crimson eyes glint with an unnamed emotion, and his expression remains unfathomable. Straightening to his full height, Sylus sauntered over to you, hands in his robe pockets; a teasing grin on his lips. He stops just shy of brushing his shins against your knees, and leans forward, broad shoulders blocking out the morning sunlight as he drenches you in the full shadows of his intentions and secrecy.

“You asked me to tell you the truth and I will. Consider these seeds a downpayment for what I’m about to reveal to you tonight.” 

Adrenaline spikes your veins, and your breathing hitches with excitement.

Is he really…?

Your thoughts trail off, and you hum, reluctantly picking up one perfectly round, juicy red globe. 

Faintly, your voice reaches him, soft and frayed with hesitancy. 

“And if I do this, will you tell me everything I want to know?” 

Striking a deal with Sylus is like striking a deal with the devil himself. You knew this—if it was too good to be true, there was something you had to give back in return. But… the idea of fully comprehending the horrible visions you saw is much too tempting. 

In answer, he cocks his head to one side, regarding you curiously like how a raven might, his mannerisms bringing to mind a scheming Mephisto. 

“Of course. When have I ever gone back on my deal?” 

The allure of knowing is too hard to resist. As you bite down on the pomegranate seeds, its sweet juices coating your tongue, you never thought succumbing to temptation could taste this good. 

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

It’s night somewhere in the recesses of your consciousness. 

You should be in your own bed in Sylus’ mansion, high thread count sheets pulled up to your chin, but instead, you’re barefoot in this abandoned colosseum, staring up at the towering effigies of old gods long departed from this world. The state of these statues are in ruin; fragments of faces and bodies missing as if they were alone were the lone survivors of a universe-changing explosion.

Only the sound of your breath and the rustle of your footsteps whispering across the stone floor touched your ears. Your guard is up, and you think you’re fully here alone when a presence makes itself known behind you. 

You feel his arms wrap around your torso, pulling you right to his chest. There is no need to turn around; you already know who it was.

Silver hair the color of snow shines in this drab, gray pantheon where old gods and a new world witness him getting to his knees, pressing his face right into your belly that, you realize with a jolt, is protruding slightly.

“I have missed you,” his familiar baritone sends sparks of longing down your spine, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, sighing deeply in contentment.

���My brother tried to keep me locked in the basement,” your words, though foreign to your own ears, felt right at this moment.

Sylus, dressed in a soldier’s uniform, kisses your stomach again, his yearning felt through his sigh when he caresses your hips with broad strokes of his large palms. “I only wish to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“That is my dearest wish, too,” you reply back in a shaky voice.

His smirk, though flashed centuries apart from the Sylus you know now, is still familiar and cheeky. 

“Run away with me,” he decided, straightening up to tangle his fingers with yours, squeezing your hands tightly. “Run away with me and let us forget this horrendous fate, my love.” 

Tears pool in your eyes, and you touch your belly, as if holding onto it for strength. “My love, my brother will be back and he will wonder where I am. It is not safe for you here. He knows what you have done to me—” your grip tightens further on your belly, “—and he wants his revenge for the grave error you have caused my family and I. You need to run—”

The touching scene is interrupted by a man clearing his throat. The both of you look up to find the wounded eyes of your brother searing through the two of you. 

“Sylus,” Valentine snarled, and your lover is quick to hide you behind his broad build, unsheathing his sword. 

“Do not harm her,” Sylus’ tone is low and menacing. “Your sister had no part in this debauchery. It is me you want.” 

Your brother's eyes, so similar to your own, flash with a hunger for Sylus’ end and he swings the sword first. A bloody fight ensues, one man battling for your honor and the other for your love. Your cries go unheard, as if they are alike to the stone statues observing these conflicts with a detached eye.

“Sylus—noooo!” 

His blade sinks into Valentine’s chest, cherry red blood spewing out onto the stone floors. You drop to your knees, cradling your belly in anguish as you cry out your brother’s name over and over again. Your brother’s blood seeps through your hands, staining your snowy white nightgown as you fail to staunch his life from leaving his shuddering body. 

He’s dead… oh gods… he’s dead… My last family member is dead!

Devastated, you run off barefoot into the night, rocks and dirt cutting through the delicate soles of your feet as you scream and cry like a madwoman. 

Sylus has killed my brother… he’s killed my mother…

This cursed child in your womb! 

You want nothing more than to pull it from the flesh of your being, leaving it straggling and dying for breath. You want nothing of Sylus in you—there is an absence of everything warm and good in your shivering chest. All you desire for is his demise from this world. 

Hurling yourself into an empty church, you stagger to the sanctuary, climbing the steps and crumble into a desperate, sobbing heap. 

Tears drip down to the stone floor, and your sobs echo around the vacant space. Saint Verona gazes down upon you, heavenly in her glow of flowing blonde hair and esoteric glare, stoic and silent, as if she too has abandoned you from God’s good graces. A bubbling laughter filled with nothing but terror and hysteria bounces across the church’s walls and you cackle, tearing at your hair, your clothes, fists raining down onto your belly as you try to rid yourself of the monster’s child. 

The scene changes. 

Scorching earth fills your nose, and in your hand, a dagger prevails. 

There’s a thundering of hooves, like a battalion of horses fighting in the distance, ringing through your hollow ears. The ground shakes and trembles from the force of the hundred horses, but when you look up, you see a familiar pair of red eyes burning through the dark mists surrounding him. 

His name comes to you in a flash.

Sylus.

Those crimson orbs seem to float through the smoky composition of his face, though if you look closer, you can see the translucent demonic skin stretching over his towering form appearing in fleeting instances—proof that he was once human. 

You glare at him, getting to your feet and wield the dagger, aiming it straight for his heart.

The second the pointed tip sinks into his chest, the world explodes in a shock of white light, and you’re back in the same, decrepit pantheon. 

There is no longer a child inside of you, just hatred tearing through your heart as you bare your teeth at his demonic form, not afraid so much as devastated by his betrayal.

“You hurt me.” 

Your voice rings through the empty halls with the conviction of an entire jury waiting to declare him guilty. 

Sylus doesn’t respond, merely taking one step towards you. His demonic form towers above you by a few feet, but you tilt your head upright in defiance, unwilling to back down and grovel for a man who had left you in the lurch; abandoning you when you needed him the most.

A clawed hand drifts from his side, and you flinch when he touches your cheek, tracing his finger down to your jaw. The mists swirling around him recoil, as if waiting in anticipation.

“I’ve missed you.” His voice is a low croak, vibrating through your chest with the strength of his despair. 

You shrink back from his touch, the baleful glare on your lips never fading. 

“Why? After what you’ve done… after what you did to me…”

“I never intended for you to get caught in the crossfire,” he rumbled, taking one step closer to you. The tendrils of black mist move with him, and you feel them reaching out to you, caressing your arms, your hair. 

One of them touches your cheek, and you’re surprised to find it warm and pulsing, as if human blood ran through its dark haze. 

The tendril reaches to touch your lips, and those crimson eyes burn through the dark night, remaining steady on you. 

“I only wanted to make sure you were safe. That is why I made the deal with Mephisto.” 

You shake at the name of that cursed demon who had stolen your lover’s humanity. 

“And why should I believe you now?” 

Though in his demonic form, there are still bits of his humanity flickering through the amorphous slate of his once face. You can almost see his lips twisting into a frown, the desperation besmirching his brow with a furrow. 

“Do you think I would’ve done this—any of this—if it weren’t for you?” Sylus takes one thundering step towards you, close enough for you to reach out and brush his translucent skin. “I love you! I love you so much, my beloved and here you are, boldly claiming I want to destroy you. It is absurd.”

“It is not absurd!” you cry out, raising your fists and slamming them onto his chest. “You took everything away from me! You stole my livelihood, my sanity, my… my family!” 

Sylus caught you in time as your strength gives out and you crumple in front of him, tears seeping down your cheeks and staining your frock. 

“Our child… you didn’t even search for me when you found out the truth…”

Your hands clench above your hollow belly. 

For a palm with such immense size and width, it cups your face gently, bringing his face closer to yours, the love he feels for you desperately trying to bridge the distance. 

“I made sure to speak to the underworld lords. Our baby is currently in paradise now, my love. Nothing can hurt her. Her soul is free,” his voice breaks at the reminder of the price he had to pay to protect you and the child you both made out of love. The price of his soul, bartered and bargained for with the devil himself so his human lover would never feel an ounce of pain in her life again. 

You shake your head, tears staining the stone floor with dark droplets. “The price is too high, Sylus. It is too much. I should be taking on some of the burden—”

“You will remain in the above world, my love,” he reprimands you without an afterthought. “I will not ask you for much except to continue living as you would if I didn’t exist.” 

What’s left of his human conscience aches at the reminder of what he has to say next. “You are free to love, free to get married, have more children if you like… Your freedom has been bought and paid for. You don’t have to suffer anymore, Y/N. It is done.”

He stands after a second of hesitation, but you desperately reach out for him, grasping onto his broad shoulders. 

“I can’t live without you.” More tears gloss over your eyes, and you hiccup the truth through quivering lips. “Please. Sylus. There has to be a way we can be together.” 

He remains silent, impassive in the face of your desperate plea. 

The tendrils hovering around you are softer this time when they reach out to stroke your hair, grazing your cheeks and neck, leaving shivers of heat running up your spine. Effortlessly, like you weigh next to nothing, the wrap around your body, lifting you off the ground. 

Your back meets stone, and your hands are tethered above your head by the dark mist, the aching silence too much for you to handle.

“Sylus…” 

The sound of his name from your lips will never not be the sweetest thing he’s ever heard. 

Despite being dark and imposing in his demonic form, it doesn’t scare you a single bit when he moves closer, face hovering inches from yours. The tendrils now stroke your bare thighs, feeling the tensing of your muscles under his touch, wrapping around your shapely calves to spread them wider.

“Do you trust me?” He whispers, low and inquisitive, filling your parted mouth with his hot breath.

You nod, unable to speak, but the devotion in your eyes never wavers. 

“Yes. With all my heart and soul.” 

Your soul. Sylus feels the last remaining stronghold of his patience snapping; he has to claim your body as his own. 

There is nothing lewd in his touch when he caresses your hips, moving his sweeping palms to your chest as he squeezes your heaving mounds. Sylus’ mouth finds refuge in your neck, kissing a fiery trail up to your jaw as he tastes you with his tongue.

Your whimper fuels his sick need to claim you over and over again until you bear his marks upon your skin. Sylus lets the tendrils do their part in undressing you; those wispy curls slithering underneath the straps of your dress, drawing them down to let him feast his eyes upon your naked chest.

And you take these transgressions he inflicts upon with barely a grimace, encouraging him with soft moans and groans as the snakelike mist curls around your breasts, teasing your nipples to stiff peaks. 

Sylus commands the mist to lift you higher, right at his mouth level and he takes his time to savor the taste of your skin—licking your tender nubs, biting down on them and leaving them stinging from the cold and his saliva. 

Your abdomen constricts, and he sweeps a hand down the taut line of your body, humming in appreciation. It’s like he can finally see and touch you without any distance between your bodies; despite his sheer size and non-human composition. 

For the first time since his perceived betrayal, you’re openly receiving him with your reactions and enthusiasm. 

Sylus, you groan his name like it's a mantra. 

The tendrils trickle to the split between your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress aside so he can appreciate the bareness of you beyond your inner shift. He doesn’t hesitate to tear off your clothes, hungering to feel your body quivering under his palms. When your bare body is revealed in the gossamer light, he takes a step back, eyes burning from how pure and sacred you look.

Inches of warm flesh, so different from the hardness of his own translucent skin, greets his claws and he takes his time to touch you; memorizing your shape and smoothness in case he may never encounter them in his existence again.

You throw your head back, baring your graceful neck, and his mouth sinks right into the tender skin, working a mark right on your pulse point.

“My love,” he groaned in between kisses. “My love. All mine.” 

Your hips begin to twitch, and he takes it as a sign that you’re begging for more attention right where you need him the most. 

He may be a demon, but as Sylus sinks to his knees, he feels like a sinner falling at your altar; taking you into his mouth like you’re the only covenant in the world he wants to keep. 

Trembles tear through you like an earthquake, and Sylus has to sink his claws in the plush flesh of your thighs to keep you steady.

He runs his tongue over your clit, through your folds, the weeping wetness of your need running down his mouth, his jaw. 

The taste of you pumps his veins full of ecstasy.

Your sounds, moans, cries all filling his stone dead heart with a staggering love one will never find in this universe. 

Feels so good… you feel amazing… 

Your desperate panting and moaning go straight to his fuzzy brain, and your hips are circling and undulating, desperately trying to get yourself off with his mouth.

Sylus doesn’t care. He wants you to use him; wants to be used by you thoroughly. 

Those blood red eyes flicker up the length of your body, taking in the tendrils still cruelly teasing your nipples, your quivering thighs and endless streams of moans signaling you’re right at the brink of your pleasure.

Giving your sensitive nub a tender kiss, he rises to his full height, and prepares for the final claiming.

The way your eyes widen when he reveals his cock nearly makes him laugh, and you gasp, flinching back at the sheer size and girth of him.

Close to a foot long, you’ve never seen such… length on an appendage quite like the one Sylus was carrying.

He noticed your gaping stare, the petrified silence, and laughed. 

“Don’t worry, my love. I will make sure to prep you very—” he takes one step closer, sinking his claws into your thigh. “—very,” you feel his lips brush underneath your ear, drawing a shiver of heat wracking through your body. “—very well.” 

He remained true to his word.

Sylus spent what felt like hours between your thighs, giving your orgasm after orgasm, using his tongue, teeth, claws, and the mist to get you spilling for him until your every pulse wracking through your body was starting to hurt.

Your cries were eventually muffled by the tendrils stuffing your mouth, the cross-eyed expression you wore making it harder for him to deny the need to absolutely claim you with no mercy. 

“No more,” your garbled plea reaches his ears, and Sylus leans back on his haunches, staring up at you with a raised brow. 

Your exhaustion manifests in the tired droop of your eyes, tugging right on his heartstrings.

“Oh, my. Looks like I’ve tired you out, my love.” 

Sylus gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Your head lolls against his broad shoulder, the exertion wearing you out and making you susceptible to his next ploy. 

Lifting your hips, he tests the waters by sinking the tip of his tapered cock right into your heat. 

Your eyes flutter wide open, a gasp ripping past your lips. 

“Sy,” you stammered, and he shushes you. 

Pain. A neverending stretch. 

Your gasp is fused with panic, and you shake in your bonds, your body seizing.

“N-no… it can’t fit… it can’t…”

“Ssh.” He kisses your tears away, soothing your worries with his palms on your cheeks, thumbs stroking your jaw. “I’ll go slow, my love. I won’t hurt you.”

You hiccup and give a little, teary nod. 

Sylus smiled at your adorable surrender, staying true to his promise and taking his time to slowly ease inside of you. 

Without much effort, he’s halfway in and you gape, unable to believe you can take all of him in one go. 

A mist tendril helps to keep your body keyed up for him, playing with your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub until you begin to shiver and shake. 

You clench your hands into fists, unable to break the bonds that hold you fast to the sensations; that tie you down to Sylus.

He nips and licks at your throat, growling under his breath as his cock endeavors to plunge inside of you.

The need to fully bottom out, to have all of him buried inside of you is much too lustful of a temptation to surrender.

Sylus needs to see you struggling to make him fit. He needs to hear you say the words that will give yourself fully to him. 

Oh… Sylus… oh gods… gods…

“No gods, my love,” he bites down on your earlobe, drawing a full-body shiver from you. “Just me.”

His crimson eyes glance down to where you’re connected, and he huffs a sound of satisfaction.

“Look at that perfect cunt, my love,” he guides you to look down, enjoying how your eyes widen and your breath falls out in a desperate puff. “She’s taking me so well… you’re taking me so well…”

One more inch, and the ritual will be complete. 

Sylus can see the tip of his cock pushing against your stomach, and the idea of him being so deep, so intimately connected with you, makes his heart lurch and the blood rush to his ears.

“Gods!” 

Your scream echoed around the pantheon, both a revelry and blasphemy at once. 

His grip around your hips tightened, long fingers overlapping around your smaller figure as he waits for you to stop squirming, his jaw set tightly so he doesn't lose control of his urges and unintentionally hurt you. 

“Darling,” his warning comes out as a low rumble. “Please, cease your movements. I am barely holding on by a thread.”

Your lachrymose eyes trail upwards to him, and something in his chest tightens at the look of pure trust and devotion you give him. 

Tentatively, he shifts his hips forward, giving a gentle thrust to test the waters.

You respond instantly, back arching and hands turning into white-knuckled fists above your head that he thinks you might accidentally snap off your fingers. Your clenched jaw and quivering thighs fuel him to pick up the pace, and soon, the decrepit hall is filled with the sounds of your bodies messily meeting.

Each thrust he gives you makes your belly bulge, the sheer size of him driving you to the brink of madness as your eyes roll back into your skull, your mouth falling open and tongue slightly dangling past your lower lip.

He lives for the blissful look on your face, increasing his movements until he feels that familiar knot tightening deep in his body. 

“You feel like a dream, my love,” his whisper lights up the lust-tinged room with a flicker of innocent love—a great divide bridging closer and closer from the power of his devotion to you. 

The mists move by his command, pleasuring your erogenous zones—tugging and flicking your nipples, grazing firm circles on your clit.

Sylus needs you to be at the edge with him; needs to have you trust him enough to go off the deep end with someone as corrupted and wicked as himself. 

Your choked gasps and stuttering hips bring about a whole new wave of love and fierce protection he feels for you. 

Tangling his claws in your hair, he pushes your face up to meet his, devouring your entire being with his soul-sucking kiss.

The earth shakes, the walls tremble, and debris clatters to the ground.

Your orgasm comes as a jagged cry, and you shatter around him for the final time tonight, digging your heels into his broader waist; nearly losing yourself from the sensation of being completely tiny in comparison to him. 

Warmth gushes inside of you. At first, you find it familiar—comforting, even.

But, it doesn’t stop. 

Sylus keeps spilling inside of you until you hallucinate his taste in the back of your throat—salty, and musky desire. 

His hips tremble with the force of his unholy release, snarls and gasps bouncing across the dilapidated walls demonically sinister. 

You should be afraid—you knew that. 

But, all you can feel in this moment is raging passion for the man who was once your entire world.

The mists release you and you tumble right into his arms, feeling much too small and weak in his massive arms. 

Sylus’ demon cock remains hard and unyielding inside of you, and you think you feel him sloshing about in your inner guts.

Your belly is completely swollen, protruding from the copious amount of cum you hold inside of you. 

It makes you shiver and keen at the strange yet welcomed sensation. Sylus, mortified, tries to pull himself out of you, but you shake your head, needing to hold him close.

He drags you to the ground, holding you steady in his hulking build, pushing what’s left of his human nose into your hair to take in your musky, sweet scent.

When you straighten to lift yourself from his cock, you wince and gasp at the amount of white that floods from your gaping hole, making you twitch and whine loudly. 

Sylus too, groans at the sight, his head thumping back onto the stone floor.

“You will be the death of me, darling.”

His claws gently drag through your hair, and you sigh, leaning into his touch no matter how diabolical it may be.

Silence resounds around two lovers who are simply enjoying each other’s company. You press your head to his chest and he plays with the ends of your hair, content to nuzzle and cuddle you like he used to do when he was still human.

The thought puts a damper on your high, and you exhale, twining your arms around him.

As if he can read your mind, Sylus’ grip on your frailer body tightens—unwilling to let you go.

“Extend your palm,” his hoarse mumble draws you up short, and your look of bewilderment is second only to the confusion when he materializes a ripe pomegranate right into your outstretched hand. 

Sylus’ claws wrap around your smaller hand as he curls your fingers around the rotund fruit, reluctant to let you go.

“This is part of our deal,” he rumbled. “Until I can manifest in a pure flesh form, I will come to you in your dreams. Eat this and think of me, my beloved, and I will be with you the very second I hear your call for me.”

You gaze at the fruit in confusion, about to open your mouth and speak when you realize he’s disappearing right in front of your eyes.

“Sylus!” 

Your desperate cries mingle with your pained exclamation when you tumble to the hard ground, the warmth and strength of his body no longer under yours. The pomegranate in your hand rolls into a dusty corner, but you turn a blind eye to it—unable to believe he is well and truly gone. 

“Sylus,” you begin to sob, clawing at the ground, as if you could dig up the stone flooring and bring him back into your arms. 

“Sylus, you promised me! You promised you would never leave… you… you promised…”

You promised…

You promised…

You promised…

“...promised…” 

Your eyes flutter open in the half-darkness. Tears are drying on your cheeks, soaking the pillow underneath you. 

Numbly, you touch your stomach, thinking you can still feel the imprint of him deep inside of you. The sheets are tangled around your legs, and the emptiness yawns like a pertinacious monster inside of you, clawing through your soul till you think you might go mad with need. 

“Sylus…”

You feel the shadows stirring, and without warning, his embrace returns to hold you tightly to his chest.

The familiar scent of him, coming back to you after lifetimes apart, destroys what’s left of your self-control.

You sob in his arms like a child, soaking his robe with your tears and sorrow.

Let it out, darling, he whispers in the darkness, those crimson eyes filling with grief and pain, his tears dripping into your hair. 

Let it out… let it all out… I’m here… I’m here…

“Sylus,” you gasp, digging your fingers into the soft material of his sleeping robe, as if your touch alone could ensure he never leaves you again. “Sylus… I’m so sorry… I’m so…”

“Ssh,” he cradles you in his arms, rocking you from side to side like how a father might soothe a terrified child. “Oh, darling. There is no need to apologize. There is no need.”

Your shuddering, muffled wails pierce through the quiet night, and his eyes squeeze close, unable to bear the thought of you suffering from the same memories that never ceased to keep him up till dawn.

All Sylus has ever wanted was to protect you, but sometimes, protection comes with knowledge and knowledge is, in his experience, nothing but pain. 

“Do you want to talk about this now or shall we wait till morning arrives?” 

He wants to give you the choice he never had—a chance to confront your past and shape your future together, releasing himself from centuries of limbo spent navigating uncertainty alone.

But, you shake your head tiredly, a telltale sign of where your headspace was tonight.

“No. Let’s do it in the morning.”

Your arms tighten around him and he implicitly reads your unease and trepidation, letting you curl your body deeper into his embrace.

Sylus pauses for a moment, finding his center in your embrace, knowing that despite the centuries of turmoil you've endured together, come morning, you'll still be by his side.

“Of course,” he whispers, his voice threading through the comforting silence that envelops you both. He gently kisses the top of your head.

“Till morning, then.”

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

dawn says: ngl i teared up writing this </3 goethe's 'faust' will always make me emo because all mans really wanted was to be loved by someone (and amass immense power but ... oh well ...)

i had to review a lot of notes on faust as well as this reddit post for reference in this piece so your reblogs and feedback will be extremely appreciated in return mwah

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, sentence structures and plot lines and claim it as yours. do not recommend and repost my stories on other platforms.

[sunderwight]

It's so good when Shen Qingqiu takes care of Luo Binghe. In canon and also in fics. I especially am in love with when he does his hair or helps him dress, it's just so pleasantly domestic. Also endearing whenever SQQ gets a bit fanboy-ish about it, because that's Luo Binghe and SQQ can dress him up in every cool or sexy outfit he has a face thick enough to pay someone to actually make!

I wonder if he ever shares this wisdom with Shang Qinghua. Like at some bitching session or other SQH is sighing a bit about how MBJ always wears like the same three outfits, and don't get him wrong they're all great outfits, but he noticed Luo Binghe flaunting yet another fresh look the other day and part of him really wants to see Mobei Jun in something different...

And then Shen Qingqiu is just like, you're the Lord of An Ding Peak, you handle the basic wardrobe necessities for an entire sect? Go pay someone to make cool/sexy outfits and literally put them on Mobei Jun yourself! You're married to the guy, aren't you?

Shang Qinghua is like "wait you can do that? I can do that? that's a thing that's allowed?" and Shen Qingqiu rolls his eyes and calls him a dumbass and points out that Airplane himself wrote about the intimacy of Luo Binghe's harem members dressing him and it being an even bigger deal for demons than humans, and Shang Qinghua cannot for the life of him remember this but it does sound sort of familiar. So off he goes to nervously sketch out some ideas for outfits, and then get told off by the seamstress he tries to commission for not having realistic ideas about how fabric works. But he does have Mobei Jun's measurements and after some discussion he gets a bunch of stuff that looks even better than his initial ideas, eventually, and then he just has to... give them to his king...

Shang Qinghua awkwardly presenting the topic to Mobei Jun like he's expecting to get a hard "no", but he blinks and his king is naked and standing expectantly in front of his fancy full-length mirror. Shang Qinghua has only ever helped Mobei Jun get dressed when he was injured in the past, and then usually only just putting his arms through some sleeves on an outer robe. They've undressed each other for sex, but putting the clothes on really is a different kind of intimacy. Especially an outfit that Shang Qinghua had specially made to suit Mobei Jun, to highlight the features he likes best about him. Striking blue and icy-white, with hints of An Ding's colors as accents, showing off his build to full effect, etc etc. Shang Qinghua layers each piece on and then does Mobei Jun's hair too, muttering quiet approval for how the look comes together while Mobei Jun preens under all the attention.

Of course, afterwards Mobei wants Shang Qinghua to dress him every day, which isn't always logistically feasible, and MBJ also intends to return the gesture.

Luo Binghe dresses Shen Qingqiu too of course, but Luo Binghe is aware both that other guys want his husband and also that Shen Qingqiu will refuse to go out in public if Binghe dresses him in anything revealing, even if he still lets him put it on, plus Luo Binghe was raised with human sensibilities about modesty. So all in all any "sexy" outfits are reserved for private time at home, and what he puts Shen Qingqiu in for daily wear is all stuff that is perfectly befitting a Qing Jing Peak Lord and scholar.

Mobei Jun doesn't have human modesty sensibilities and also doesn't see any reason why Qinghua shouldn't show off his own best assets while he's going about his day, so, Shang Qinghua is about to rue the hell out of a lot fashion-related world-building decisions he made a lifetime ago...

[starlightsuffered]

The Smart Rosier

Warnings- smut, unprotected sex, slut shaming, name calling and trash talk during sex, oral (male receiving), dom male, spitting in mouth, teasing, mentions of alcohol, publish sex, mentions of masturbation, mentions of drugs, calling male Master, begging, dry humping, rough sex, choking, hair pulling, mouth fucking, desperate, fucking in front of a mirror

Pairing - Regulus Black/Fem!Reader Rosier

I knocked back a firewhisky. Evan looked at me in admiration.

"You didn't even make a face," he said in awe. He had, had too much of the plant that someone had snuck from the Herbology Green House.

"Yeah, it's almost like I like to party," I chuckled. Every weekend my cousin seemed to forget I was the queen of partying. He was such a lightweight.

"By the way," Evan said. "I need to give you your weekly reminder."

"I'm so fucking sick of this," I snapped, grabbing another shot.

"I can't trust you, you've run through half of Slytherin house," he snapped.

"Slut shaming much," I said, downing the alcohol.

"Not shaming, just begging. Please don't fuck my best friend," he said.

"Why do you give a shit," I hedged. To be honest, Regulus Black was the finest Slytherin in the whole house. I'd had a crush on him for ages.

"You're gonna make him obsessed with you. He'll never want to talk to me again," he complained.

"You whine too much," I snapped, as I stood up to dance. I went to the dance floor. I was moving my hips, and feeling myself. Suddenly, I felt hands on my waist.

"Hello?" I asked, in a sultry tone. I turned to see him. Regulus Black.

"I don't often see you at these parties," I said with a smirk.

"Maybe I saw something that caught my eye," he purred. He was gorgeous. Emerald robes, black curls, a sexy smirk. How was I meant to resist? It was impossible.

"You know, my cousin says to stay away from you," I said.

"Do you wanna listen to Rosier?"

"I'm a Rosier too you know," | chuckled.

"Yes, but you're the smart one," he said.

"Well, all I know is, I wanna feel you," I said, as I pressed a hand against his chest. "Whatever you'll give me, I want it."

"Come to the bathroom with me," he ordered. I was more than happy to oblige.

"You tease me all the time," he growled at me, when he got me alone.

"Hmmm, does it bother you? Do I bother Regulus Black when I wear tiny skirts? Do I bother the Slytherin Quidditch Captain when I dance? Do I bother the Head Boy when I lick my lips slowly at dinner? So important. A Black, even a pure blood, yet I have you whipped."

He was taking deep breathes, as though he could hardly handle what I said.

"You should be taught a lesson," he snarled.

"By all means," I bowed. "Teach me."

I was slammed against the door roughly. He was giving me a hard bruising kiss. His hand was on my jaw, holding it open. He spat into my mouth, and I took it gladly. His hand moved down to my throat as he ground his clothed length against me. I moaned.

"You're such a slut aren't you, I bet you think of me all the time and you touch yourself," he snapped.

"How did you know," I said after he released my throat.

"Running through the whole year, but never me huh?"

"Saving the best for last," I replied.

"Clothes off," he demanded. I swished my wand and I was naked before him. I could see his hardness through his robes.

"What a pretty little cock whore," he smirked. "All your good for is to be used."

I nodded, and fell to my knees. I could tell he liked my willing nature."From now on, your mine, you're not going to touch anyone else, understood?"

"Yes master," | agreed, and I heard him moan at the name.

"I rather like that coming from you," he said as he waved his wand so that he was also naked. His cock stood at attention, veiny and long, I was salivating. I took him into my mouth.

"Eager," he ground out as I bobbed my head. He was gripping the sink, hissing in pleasure. My tongue circled the head of his cock expertly. His hand grabbed my hair hard, so that tears pricked my eyes. He was thrusting into my mouth now. Suddenly, he stopped.

"Get up," he demanded. He whirled me around, so now I was gripping the sink.

"Look at you," he said. I looked in the green studded mirror. My mascara was running from the tears in my eyes, saliva dripped down my chin, my hair was in tangles from his hands.

"Suck a good slut," he said, hands running down my form from behind. They reached my heat and he chuckled.

"You're dripping darling," he said before beginning to put pressure on my clit.

"Please, Regulus," | begged. His fingers danced around the sensitive bundle of nerves. He was absolutely infuriating, but I would wait it out. Anything to have him fully at some point.

Just then I felt the tip of his cock at my entrance. He was still teasing! Pushing his tip in, only to remove it. Tears of desperation stung in my eyes.

"Apologize," he whispered in my ear before kissing my neck. "Apologize for all the things you've put me through."

"I'm so, oh Regulus, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," | blubbered.

"Now I wanna hear you beg," he said cruelly.

"Please Regulus, I want your cock. I want you to fill me, Regulus, Master, please," I pleaded.

"More," he said, and grabbed one of my tits roughly, kneading the flesh.

"Please Regulus, impale me with your cock. I wanna be full. I want you inside me. I can't live if you don't fuck me right now. I'd die to have your cock in me. Please!"

"Alright darling," he said, and finally pushed into me. I screamed in pleasure, and Regulus didn't seem interested in quieting me.

"The whole party is going to know how good I make you feel," he laughed as he began to thrust in and out.

"You're so big, ah," I was white knuckling the sink as he slammed into me. I couldn't believe the spots he was hitting. I felt like I was on a whole other plane of existence.

"Has anyone else ever fucked you this good?" He demanded as he kept up his ungodly speed.

"Never," was all I could get out. He began to massage my nipples, bringing me even more thrills of sensation.

"Fuck, Regulus, you're a God!" I whimpered as he thrust into me.

"That's right I am," he said and his hand went up to my neck, and put pressure on it.

"Watch yourself darling, watch yourself come undone."

His words nearly had my eyes rolling back into my head, but I did as he commanded. He was a dark figure behind me, an expression of pure lust on his face. His hand dropped from my neck to my clit and I was shaking.

My orgasm washed over me, and I lost all control, screaming his name and seeing white. I was vaguely aware of him cursing and cumming inside me. When I came down, his cum was dripping down my thighs.

"That was so good," I panted, legs wobbly. We used our wands to clean up and walked out. Evan was waiting for me, arms crossed, a furious expression on his face.

"Sorry cousin," I said patting his cheek. "Your best friend has a great cock."

[chamomiletealeaf]

laying in bed with simon and telling him he looks hot but he’s insecure bc he’s gained weight since he’s been back from deployment but he just looks so hot you can’t keep your hands off him ….. i just love dad bods im sorry

AHHHH SIMON WITH A TUMMY SAVE MEEE SAVE ME SIMON WITH A TUMMY

Warnings: MDNI, body worship, body insecurity (from Simon), dom!reader x sub!simon dynamics, little bit of size kink, blowjob, handjob

You make your way back to the bedroom from the kitchen with two cups of tea for you and Simon with a smile. He's been home for a few weeks but every night and morning together still feels like the first, so you were giddy to curl up next to him in bed for the night.

You walk into the bedroom and place the cups down on the night side table by Simon and you climb on top on him, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I missed you honey." You say, even after weeks of being home together, and you pull back to hold his face in your hands and you lean in to kiss him.

He laughs and smiles, kissing you back "I missed you too lovie."

You were wearing some fuzzy socks, a tank top, sleep shorts, and a light, thin robe, while Simon was wearing his sweatpants and.. his T shirt?? He never wears a shirt to bed? You thought.

"Are you cold baby?" You ask, leaning back and furrowing your eyebrows to examine him for any signs of discomfort that may explain why he's covering himself up so much.

"No? why?" Simon responds.

"You're wearing your shirt.. to bed.. Oh honey are you hiding a new scar or something?" You say as you go to rest your hands on his chest and he grips your wrists with a soft smile.

"No dove, I- just don't feel like taking my shirt off right now. Why do you want it off so bad anyways?" He teases at the end.

"I don't know you just never wore your shirt to bed, was just wondering if you were hiding an injury or something.. And you're hot, of course I want to see you without your shirt." You smirk.

"Yeah well-" He begins, but then trails off.

Your smirk fades and a concerned look takes over your features.

"Baby, please tell me what's wrong. If you're hiding a scar, an injury, hell even a dumb tattoo I won't freak out or anything, you know that." You coo at him, trying to ease his discomfort.

"No love it's not anything like that, I promise, I- I don't know I just put on a bit of weight since being home and- I just wanna-"

You cut him off with a giggle and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"Oh honey you got me so worried thinking you were hurt or something. You're worried about a little tummy?" You ask in disbelief, relieved your boyfriend wasn't injured or hiding something actually serious.

"Well- it's not just that, my thighs and arms-"

"Are fucking sexy? Yeah they are." You cut him off with a smile, still shocked that this is what he was hiding from you when in reality, the weight he put on has you going fucking feral for him. You loved how thick he was.

You lean into him again to kiss him, then you move to his neck, making him moan and shift his weight under you when you get to the skin under his ear.

"Love-" He whispers.

"Take your shirt off baby." You whisper back into his ear, nibbling his ear lobe. "Please?"

He hesitates, but then he finally pulls the shirt over his head and tosses it to the side.

"Mm there he is." You say, and begin to kiss all down his neck and chest, and down to his tummy where you give his bit of pudge a light and playful bite making you giggle.

"Hey." He says, with faux warning.

Then you move down to his thighs, pulling his sweats off and leaving marks on his thighs the way he does to yours and he bucks his hips up.

"Fuck lovie you're gonna drive me insane." He says, looking down at you between his massive thighs, looking happy and content as ever with a big smile on your face.

"See? Told you I loved it." You say, giving a bite to the inside of his right thigh.

"Love my big boy." You say.

Then, your mouth leaves his thigh and goes to mouth over his bulge, which makes him hiss.

"Mm love this big boy too." You tease.

"Don't tease." He begs, desperate for more of your touch.

With a smile, you pull his thick cock out from his boxers and immediately start to leave kitten licks at the tip, smacking it against your tongue every so often to feel his weight on it.

"Oh Fuck." Simon whines.

You giggle and take as much of him in your mouth as you can, pumping the rest of him with your hand while the other grips onto his thigh.

You moan around his cock, eyes rolling back as you pull off for air, jerking him off to make up for the loss of contact.

"Mm such a thick fuckin' cock." You whisper to him as you move your body up against him, face in the crook of his neck to whisper in his ear while your tits press against him.

You look down at his cock in your hand and tell him to watch as you jerk him off.

"Ooh look at that honey, big fuckin' cock makes my hand look so tiny. Love how small you make me look baby." You say, praising how big his body is compared to yours.

Simon just grunts and whines in response, his cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink as he lets you admire his body he was so self conscious about minutes ago.

"Go on cum for me honey. Show me how good my big boy is."

And with that Simon moans, his head thrown back as he pants while he cums all over your hand.

You grab him by his flushing cheeks and force him to watch as you make him cum on himself.

"Eyes down here baby, need you to watch how much I love making you feel good yeah?"

You talk him through his orgasm as he comes back down to you, praising him for doing so well.

"Aww see honey? Still love you and this sexy fuckin' body." You say with a smirk.

Simon just smiles, still trying to catch his breath from the way you made him cum so hard.

"Ok lovie I believe you, now it's your turn." He smirks, and the rest of the night is spent with his big body that he was so insecure about on top of yours, just the way you loved it.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

— warnings: uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

— wc: 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

masterlist | AO3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?” 

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.” 

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”  

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence. 

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.” 

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards. 

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss. 

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt. 

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now. 

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs. 

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges. 

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.” 

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves. 

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes. 

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising. 

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.” 

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Cary Grant (The Philadelphia Story, His Girl Friday, Bringing Up Baby, Charade)—just the peak of old-school Hollywood sexuality. The glam, the suits, the gentle wit, the acrobatics, those eyes that always looked like they knew exactly what movie they were in and were laughing at the joke...

Vincent Price (Laura, Leave Her to Heaven, House on Haunted Hill, The Masque of the Red Death)—svelte, stylish, horrifying, beautiful, wickedly funny, camp and gorgeous and evil. he was an art connoisseur who advocated passionately indigenous art, he was an actual literal gourmet cook, he was so liberal he got greylisted during the mccarthy era for being too rad, he's my favorite muppets guest of all time

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Vincent Price propaganda:

Submitted: this fancam

Submitted: this entire Tumblr page

Cary Grant propaganda:

"My Golden Age of Hollywood professor, who was very outwardly gay himself, put it this way: Even though Grant's sexuality was kind of an open secret in Hollywood, the public couldn't know in any real way. But anybody could see that there was a queerness about him, so he was casted for roles where he physically embodies his masculinity in a non-explicit but queer way. Bringing Up Baby is famous for the scene where Grant wears a frilly robe (pictured below, but what people don't always realise is that he plays kind of an awkward nerd in that movie. He's a hot awkward scientist in a grand robe!!! Hot!!! In The Philadelphia Story, one of my famous movies of all time, he plays C. K. Dexter Haven, a rich, sarcastic, supposedly abusive guy. And yet, what we see is this laid back, dandy-ish figure, who absolutely does not feel threatened when a woman he supposedly loves (Katharine Hepburn) starts having feelings for, and hooks up with another guy (James Stewart). He lets a drunk Stewart into his office and helps him get his job back! Obviously that is the script and not the actor, but the whole film, and that scene in particular, shows him having this very queer attitude of openness toward Hepburn and Stewart, which is only amplified by the casting of Grant and his portrayal of the character. Anyway, this is not an essay arguing for The Philadelphia Story to be considered a queer film, all I will say is: he's super hot in it."

The link to the above mentioned frilly robe scene from Bringing Up Baby: "I just went gay all of a sudden!"

last minute cary grant propaganda: the last few paragraphs of that new vanity fair article about him and randolph scott that just came out 2 days ago on cary's birthday where he calls it "gravity collapse" and "love at first sight" and says their souls touched and and and i'm actually sharing this mostly because it makes me emotional but also because a vote for archibald is a vote for love. this is my message. apologies for sounding mildly insane.

[ramonathinks]

You being a bored lonely housewife with a busy husband who’s almost never home. He works all types of hours and you can’t help but to think that maybe he’s bored with you, even when you’re dressed up to look sexy enough to please him and wanting to please him, he simply goes to bed claiming he’s too tired.

You can’t help but to seek out attention elsewhere and with strong handyman, Toji, lurking around you can’t help but to catch his eye. He’s strong and so well built that you just have to keep him around. His shirts so tight and stretching well as he works around the house. Fixing the stove and then the sink. You just have to sit him down just to touch his muscles all over while talking to him. “Have you always been so… ripped?” You’re squeezing at his muscles while he’s sitting next to you drinking some cool lemonade.

“Pretty much.” He sees how you’re eyeing him but he’s most interested in what you’re wearing. Just a robe and he can tell it’s nothing under it. He swallows and he’s very blunt when he says, “Just cut to the chase, sweetheart… you want me to fuck you the way that little husband of yours won’t, right? I see the way you watch me so closely always. I see how he looks at you. I know trouble in paradise…” He says it softly as if he pities you, but you couldn’t care.

“Would you? Fuck me the way he won’t?” Your eyes are dropping and you’re biting your lip.

He does. With your knees pressed against your chest on top of your tabletop. Feeling your nails claw in his chest, your legs wrapped around him. His fingers twisting your nipples before taking one in his mouth. His hands are rough as he fucks you deep and hard, the table beneath you shaking as he continues.

“He’s not right for you.” Your pussy squeezes him when she hears that. “You like this?” His hip movements are fast and you can’t keep up.

The slapping sound loud in your ears as the thrust continues. With fluttering eyes you release a moan, “To-Toji.” He eyes the way your cunt sucks in his dick and with a smile he pulls out, a string of slick and precum mixed up together.

“So fucking wet.” He sinks back in, deeper and your back arches a bit. “A little slutty pussy like this needs to be throughly fucked every day, whaddaya think mama?”

[effetsecndaires]

— 𝐞𝐱 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 & 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

➺ PAIRING | toji zenin x fem!reader

➺ CONTENT WARNING | stripper!reader, rich!toji, smut, semi public sex, voyeurism (sort of?), fingering, unprotected sex.

➺ NOTE | first time trying out this format :) this is shameless smut once again, you better get used to 'em because the amount of smuts I have in my wips is concerning

▫︎𝐞𝐱 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 who never expected to find his ex-wife’s name on a list of available women when he went to book a private session with a top-rated stripper.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who books your services for two hours.

▫︎ex husband!Toji whose breath catches in his throat when you walk through the velvet curtain, a see-through silk robe covering the sexy red lingerie underneath. He doesn't miss the way your eyes widen slightly as you see him sitting comfortably in the leather seat, a cocky smile plastered on his lips.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who notices the way your hips sway from side to side a little more than necessary as you walk around the pole and drop the robe to the floor - initiating your routine just as you would with any other client.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he gestures for you to come closer, his rapidly hardening cock becoming constricted in his tight pants.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who tries to keep his composure as you oblige and approach him with that same sexy sway of your hips, the hint of provocation in your eyes keeping his pulse racing. It doesn't help that your lingerie leaves little to no room for imagination, your nipples and bush easily visible through the fabric.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who goes to hold your hips as you straddle his thighs for a quick lap dance, but immediately gets his hands swatted away. Only then does he remember the club's rules on performer privacy which explicitly states their no-touching policy.

“You gotta pay a little extra if you want to touch.” you say as you smooth your hands down his muscular chest, your warm breath against his ear.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who tucks a few hundred dollar bills in the cup of your bra - way more money than what’s required for a simple touch.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who swears under his breath as he finally gets his hands on your body, rough palms caressing all the way up your back as you move your body against his, sensually sliding your hands from your waist up to brush over your breasts and squeeze them.

▫︎𝐞𝐱 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 who tries not to imagine all the things you must have done in front of all kind of rich, perverted old men for their money, men who would pay thousands just to see your body with as little clothing as possible.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who can't help but feel a pang of anger and jealousy building up, his desire to know all about your clientele growing. He quickly finds himself obsessing over the details, wondering about the specific requests they make and how you respond to them.

“What do they say to you, hm? Do they mention how good your ass looks in that lingerie? Do you let any of those nasty old fucks touch you like this?” he emphasises the last few words with a sharp slap on your ass.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who catches you off guard when he tucks the lacy fabric of your panties to one side and reaches between your folds, slowly spreading your arousal to your clit before pushing a finger in. You moan at the intrusion and rock your hips, trying to grind down on his finger for more friction.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who still knows your body like the back of his hand even after all those years apart. His fingers curl up inside you and stretch you out just right, rubbing against your front wall with just the right amount of pressure. You tip your head back in pleasure and Toji takes full advantage to put his mouth on your exposed neck, one hand coming to fondle your breast and pinch your erect nipple through the thin fabric of your bra.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who makes you squirt all over his fingers and gives you no time to catch your breath before he's unbuckling his belt and freeing his cock, sitting you down on it.

▫︎ex husband!Toji who stares straight into the security camera as you wrap your arms around his shoulders while he thrusts up into you, a cocky smirk on his lips as he helps you bounce on top of him, his hands keeping a firm possessive grip on your ass.

[explicit-tae]

Ungodly Hour: Day 3

You’re feeling petty, so sending Jungkook nudes is how you get your revenge on him for leaving you.

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.212

Warning: jungkook getting clowned, face riding, oral sex, smut, simp jungkook, dirty talking, ass slapping, shit talking reader bs that's what she does, slight sexting

You ponder what life would be like if you lived with Jungkook - the weekend is long and waking up besides the man felt nice. He cooked breakfast after allowing you to sleep in, you two eating together. You’d shower, spend the day together (sex came randomly in between) and then go to bed.

Work was a task you’d dreaded, but you’d refuse to give up so quickly, even when Jungkook agreed to your joke of quitting, stating that you could always live off of him - an agreement the man was too quick to settle for.

Even after your boring, easy job, you acted as if it was the worst day of your life. Jungkook had bought takeout to make up for it and you were content for a while.

And now, you and Jungkook are in his bathroom, you attempting to concentrate on your task. You were dressed in nothing but a black silk robe - a gift from Jungkook - the both of you fresh out of the shower. He has a match one that he tied loosely around himself.

“Is it supposed to burn?” Jungkook asks, opening one eye to look at you. He sits on his closed toilet, you directly in front of him.

“If you ask me that one more time, Jungkook, I swear-”

“You want me to fuck you so bad, Y/N.” Jungkook closes his eyes, his hands reaching out for your waist to bring you close to him. 

You groan, squirming out of his reach. “We’re doing face masks.” you deadpan, your mind not comprehending how the man could be thinking about sex at a time like this. “Nothing about this is sexy, Kook.”

Jungkook scoffs - he begs to differ. There was never a moment Jungkook didn’t want you - but he was a man and maybe that was just the way his body reacts around you. He’d remain quiet, however, to make you any more irritated with him. Your irritation only fueled his sexual desire.

“‘Kay, done.” you lean back to admire your work on Jungkook’s face. Now the both of you matched - both sporting a cream colored face mask. “Our skins going to be so smooth when we’re done!” you squeal, and for a moment you’re excited - until you see the smile on Jungkook’s lips. “Ugh, didn’t mean to do that. Don’t think I like doing things like this with you.” you quickly scoff.

Jungkook cackles at your fraudulent change of tune. “You’re so down bad for me, Y/N.” Jungkook snatches your waist this time, bringing you closer to him. He then stands.  “Give it a few more months, baby, and you’ll finally admit it outside of sex.”

“Fuck off.” you murmur, hands pushing Jungkook back - even if you didn’t put that much force into it because you actually did like his embrace.

Jungkook brings his face closer, the need to kiss you heavy. He doesn’t get the chance to, however, a loud banging noise sounding throughout his home. His eyebrows furrow. “Someone’s at the door.” he says aloud. “Be right back.” 

You turn away from the man to clean up the mess you’ve made. As you turned on the water to clean the silicon brush, Jungkook takes it upon himself to slap your ass.

“Jung-” you swung around to snap, but Jungkook’s already out the door and down the hall, a loud trail of laughter echoing behind him.

Jungkook makes his way towards his front door, not caring about his appearance as he swings it open. 

“Oop, jump scare.” Jimin walks past him, shoving three large pizzas in his arms. “Why do you never answer your phone?”

Jungkook is dumbfounded as Hoseok and Taehyung steps in, as well, and for a moment he thinks about what he’s going to say.

However, Jungkook remembers that it’s Sunday - and Sunday’s were movie nights. He swallows the lump in his throat. 

He didn’t need Jimin knowing that you were here - not because Jimin hated you, it was quite the opposite. Jimin loved you (from afar) and your antics. He liked you and him together, stating that you made a good couple. 

Jimin knowing that you were here meant that Jungkook forgot about the weekly movie night - and then he’d have to hear Jimin’s mouth about how “pussy was worth more than the friendship” as he liked to put it.

“I was, uh, showering.” Jungkook responds, closing the door behind Hoseok. “Where’s Joon?” he questions, as if he wasn’t the one who lost track of his days. 

“Running late.” Jimin takes off his shoes and proceeds to go to the living room. “I wonder what’s new on the streaming services. Not like I’d know…” he trails off, side eyeing the younger male.

“You’ll have to get over that.” Hoseok snickers, taking his seat beside Jimin. “We all know Jungkook would find a girl that would take all his time.”

Jungkook laughs awkwardly, placing the boxes of pizza on the coffee table. 

“Ah, yes.” Taehyung sits on one of the leather chairs, a boxy smirk on his lips. “So…did Y/N teach you any new tricks?”

“Or is barking all you do?” Jimin scoffs, then proceeds to go out in full laughter, followed by Hoseok and Taehyung.

Jungkook rolls his eyes. It was bad enough he had to hear it in the groupchat. This was a moment they’ll never let him live down.

“I just want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok shakes his head. “Y/N has to be doing something lethal to have you bark-”

“It was a joke.” Jungkook hisses. “Pick a movie while I take this off.” he murmurs, making his way down the hall and back towards the bathroom. Jungkook opens the door and eyes you, face mask already off. “So, we have a dilemma.” he mumbles, coming towards the sink.

“I heard Jimin.” your arms are crossed. “Is he talking shit again?”

“It’s Jimin.” Jungkook scoffs. He begins to wipe the face mask off of his skin, scrubbing aggressively. “I forgot tonight was movie night.”

“Movie night?” you furrow your brows. “But I thought you said we were continuing Law & Order?”

Jungkook sighs. He turns off the water and turns towards you. “I did,” he admits. “but we have movie nights every Sunday and…” he trails off.

“And…” you shake your head, not comprehending. Jungkook grabs a small hand towel and wipes his face “...you’re saying fuck Lieutenant Olivia Benson? Because you want to watch a lame ass movie?” you cross your arms, even if you couldn’t be upset about it. You just wanted a reason to give him shit.

Jungkook licks his lips and smirks. “You’re so jealous, baby. I knew you’d-”

“Ew. Go watch your lame movie with your lame friends.” you push him away, fighting the smile stretching on your lips when you feel his hands on your wrist. “I’ll be in the room, I guess.”

Jungkook pokes his head out the bathroom door to assure no one was looking. Then, he drags you towards his room and shuts the door. “I’ll sneak you some pizza.” he murmurs. He rushes towards his closet to change into clothes.

“I…I can’t come out?” you scoff in disbelief. 

Jungkook shakes his head. “They’ve been cooking me in the groupchat and when they walked in. You walking out will only be my 13th reason.” Jungkook is dressed in under a minute, a black shirt and iron man pajama shorts. He comes towards you when he sees your wide eyed expression and wraps you in a sudden embrace, peppering your face with kisses. “I’ll let you sit on my face later.” he murmurs.

“You do that everyday.” you deadpan.

“Exactly.” Jungkook smiles. “So you’ll be okay for a few hours. I’ll try to kick them out after one movie, though.”

Again, Jungkook slaps your ass, but this time brings you in for a kiss. He’s out the door before you can say anything further. You eye his bedroom door for a moment and scoff with a shake of your head. 

“Hyung, when did you get here?” Jungkook asks when he strolls through the living room to see Namjoon. “Did you find a movie yet?”

“Got here a minute ago.” Namjoon responds.

“Haven’t been on here in so long. Forgot how to work the app.” Jimin retorts.

“Eventually you’re going to have to get over it.” Jungkook makes his way towards the kitchen to grab a plate. He then walks back towards the livingroom to gather a few slices of pizza for you. 

“Forget about the ultimate betrayal?” Jimin scoffs. “Never.”

“Where are you going?” Taehyung asks, eyeing Jungkook. 

“I’m just saving myself some pizza.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “Might be hungry in the middle of the night.”

Taehyung doesn’t respond.

Jungkook makes his way down the hall and back towards his room. “Special delivery.” he scurries in to drop the plate on his bedside table. “I can’t  wait for you to sit on my face later.”

“Don’t think you getting any pussy after keeping me in this room.” you retort, not removing your eyes from the screen. 

Jungkook snorts. “We’ll see about that.” He doesn’t have time for a petty argument, because that would only turn it to him fucking you into the mattress - and now, he didn’t have time for that.

“Since when do you eat in your room?” Hoseok questions as Jungkook returns, a confused look on his face. “Since I got lazy.” Jungkook responds without a second thought, sitting next to Namjoon. “What are we watching?” Jungkook is barely able to focus on the movie. He eats a couple slices of pizza, his eyes watching the movie that his mind refuses to acknowledge. He would rather be with you watching Law & Order - he knows by now you two would be cuddling. You would rub your ass against him slightly, pretending to be occupied with the show and that would be his que to-

“You don’t look interested.”

Jungkook blinks a few times and then turns to Namjoon, the source of the voice. 

“Just thinking.” Jungkook shrugs. 

“About Y/N?”

Jungkook cracks his neck, only snorting. 

“Jimin told me you were whipped. Didn’t tell me you couldn’t go a day without thinking about her.” Namjoon teases, his dimples deepening when he smirks. 

“Are you two talking about Y/N?” Jimin crosses his arms. He’s laying against the arm of the couch, his eyes piercing at Jungkook. 

“I sense one sided beef.” Taehyung calls.

“Because of her,” Jimin starts, and Namjoon groans, having heard this rant time and time again. “I was removed from all the streaming services. Not just one - all.”

“I gave you several warnings.” Jungkook grumbles. 

Hoseok snickers. “Like what?”

“I told him when Y/N usually watches her shows.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. 

“You give her access to streaming services so she can watch True Crime.” Jimin deadpans, an unamused look on his face. “When you end up on one of those documentaries because she slipped something in your drink-”

Jungkook sighs, leaning back into the couch. “Can we watch the movie-”

“- and murdered you, Jungkook. I will be on there telling the audience that there was red flags.”

Jungkook’s phone vibrates in his lap. He unlocks it, your name popping up.

Y/N 🥰: does jimin want to fight me?

Jungkook smirks.

“When are you going to admit you like Y/N?” Jungkook asks as he responds to your text. 

“And while we’re on the topic,” Taehyung pauses the movie. “how did you get her mother’s number?”

You were only curious in the conversation outside the bedroom once you began to hear speaking. You never turn down an episode of Law & Order, and thankfully you had. You were told by Jungkook that Jimin liked you - his words now say otherwise.

You were growing bored. The pizza was already gone and Jungkook didn’t bring you anything to drink.

But the most important thing was that you were bored - and feeling petty. 

you: I miss you

You didn’t miss him - you were bored and that’s different.

You watch as Jungkook reads the text instantly and begins typing.

kookie 🍪: i miss you too 🥹😍😏

you: can’t tell

you: you’re shit talking me with your lame friends

kookie 🍪: never. I got jimin to admit that he likes you more than he admits 🤙🏻

kookie 🍪: are you hungry still?

You grunt. You couldn’t be petty with Jungkook if he was offering to feed you.

you: no

you: just bored…

You bite your lip as Jungkook types. You suddenly open the camera app and take a picture. It’s a simple picture, you smiling in the camera.

Jungkook swallows, his eyes zoning in on the picture of you. Your robe was opened slightly more and he has a peak at your breast. 

“If it wasn’t for me he’d still be in the friend zone probably leasing cars for her attention.” Jimin retorts at Taehyung. Hoseok laughs at the comment. 

kookie 🍪: you’re so beautiful ♥️

kookie 🍪: the robe is nice on you

kookie 🍪: i can buy you more if you’d like

You snicker at Jungkook’s response. The man didn’t know what to do now and his first option was to spend if it meant that you’d send him more pictures.

“I feel like I should be compensated for my hard work.” Jimin exclaims. “Who else can say they got Jungkook out of the friendzone?”

“They were fucking. Don’t think that’s just a friend zone.” Namjoon announces. “Raw at that.”

Y/N 😍: i seem to be the topic of conversation tonight

Y/N 😍: i wish you were as interested in me as your friends are 🤭

Jungkook glances up at his bickering friends for a moment before texting back.

kookie 🍪: im beginning to think i spoil you if you cant be without me for a few hours… 😌

You’re taken aback by the tone in the message. As if you needed him - you didn’t. You were just bored and feeling a little confrontational today. 

Besides, Jungkook wasn’t going to have the last word.

“I still want to be a fly on the wall.” Hoseok adds. “Whatever she’s doing that has Jungkook worshiping the ground she walks on needs to be studied.”

“That or you’re just a pervert.” Taehyung shrugs. 

Jungkook glances down at his phone and coughs. Eyes turn to him suddenly and Jungkook stands. “I-I’m not feeling…my stomach hurts.” he makes his way down the hall and goes to open his bedroom door.

You giggle when you hear the bedroom door twist.

You’ve locked it before sending Jungkook the picture. You were already naked, mind as well use it to your advantage.

kookie 🍪: oh

kookie: open the door

you: enjoy your movie night

You hear the door knob shuffle once more. 

kookie 🍪: open the door

kookie 🍪: stop ignoring me baby

kookie 🍪: i can always break the door down

kookie 🍪 : then they’ll know you’re here

kookie 🍪: and hoseok already wants to be a fly on the wall

kookie 🍪: and i have no intentions of stopping once i have you on my tongue

You flung the door open with wide eyes. “Are you-”

Jungkook pushes you inside, closing the door behind him. “Just sit on my face.” he grumbles, hands pushing you backwards.

It doesn’t take long for your robe to be discarded on the ground. He takes in your naked sight and sighs with a shake of his head. “So needy.” he murmurs, laying down on his bed. “You missed me, huh? And it hasn’t even been a full movie length.”

“Did not.” you reject, pussy already in his face.

Jungkook clenches both of your legs. “Is that why you’re already wet?” his tongue licks your clit and hums. “It’s okay to admit you missed me, baby.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a chance to respond, he’s already diving head first into your. He suckles and slurps loudly, his hands keeping you in place. This time, he doesn’t care if you preferred him to now watch - he does anyways. His eyes are intense on watching you be pleasured by him - the cute needy moans, the fucked out look on your face. He wanted to experience it all.

“Your friends are gonna know you’re gone.” you whimper as Jungkook laps his tongue slowly between your folds. 

Jungkook leans back only slightly. “Do you want me to stop?” he questions.

You shake your head, and that’s all the convincing Jungkook needs. His right palm slapped your thigh. “Then I won’t. Now just ride my face until you cum.”

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his excessive need to make you cum.

However, you do as you’re told. Your hips buckle against his tongue, your head falling back - mainly to avoid Jungkook’s gaze. It was his favorite part, he once told you, to watch you cum. 

Jungkook’s tongue feels amazing - and it’s the same tongue. It shouldn’t feel better than the last time, but somehow it does. Maybe it’s the way his hands rub along your thighs as you ride along his tongue - or maybe it’s the way he grips your breast and pinch your nipples that are an added bonus. 

Jungkook’s hands never stayed in one spot. They’re soon cupping your ass to encourage you to grind against him harder - how he never suffocates is beyond you.

“O-Oh, fuck.” Jungkook hears you hiss and he squeezes your ass even harder. His own breathing increases as he watches you - he can do this for as long as you wanted. You were so beautiful when you were aroused and cumming - it’s a sight he has engraved in his mind.

“I know you’re about to cum.” Jungkook says muffledly. His head bops back and forth, in rhythm with your grinding. He also knows how you enjoy the way he touches you, your ass being your favorite part. He probably will never know why girls enjoyed pain mixed with pleasure, but he was nothing but a man made to pleasure you.

So, Jungkook slaps your ass encouragingly, making sure to give it a good grip after each slap.

You needed to know what it was about Jungkook - and his tongue, fingers or cock - that has you cumming so harshly on his tongue like he wants you to; and even then he refuses to stop until you’re twitching.

Jungkook doesn’t allow you to fall back like you want to, his hands grasp your twitching form and assures that you’re placed on the bed.

Licking his lips, Jungkook smirks. “My pretty girl.” he says, kissing your forehead. “I’m going to continue my movie night, okay? Then I’m going to come back here and you’re going to sit on my face again.”

You nod your head lazily, not having it in you to argue. 

“I knew you were so down bad for me, baby.” Jungkook teases. He places the blanket over your naked body. “One day, I won’t need to fuck it out of you for you to admit.”

“Fuck you.” you hiss when Jungkook is half-way out the door.

“Trust me. I will.” Jungkook chuckles, closing the door behind him, leaving you in a state of arousal and anticipation.

Fuck Jeon Jungkook and his good dick, fingers, tongue and heart.

Series Masterlist

@suciedad-divina @satisfied18 @y2k5bby @petalsofink @swga-ficrecs @rrrapmonste-rr @xtrataerrestrial @bangctans @danielle143 @taekritimin123 @thelilbutifulthings @jksjx @tasha-0795 @busanbby-jjk @joonlover1207 @hollowtree11 @amberpanda99 @parkinglot-nights @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @hoseokteardrop @jingerbreadoutofstock @subtaegguk

[sincerelyzee]

established relationship | sylus x (assumed)fem!reader | phone sex | mutual masturbating | porn with some plot |

your boyfriend being the leader of onychinus was hard enough as is, only able to meet in the night. but, it was worse when you’d go weeks without seeing each other due to full schedules or trips.

sylus said he’d be able to see you around the end of this week - something he told you last week as well. now, you’re sat on your bed, phone pressed to your ear but it does nothing to conceal your frown from him.

“i know, sweetie. i thought i’d be back yesterday.. this trip is taking longer than expected.” he sighs into the microphone, the exhaustion laced deeply in his voice but he insists on calling you the nights he can’t come see you.

your end of the line stays quiet. truly, you have nothing to say about the matter; all you could do is cry but your tears would be useless since they won’t make him appear before you. so, you sit quietly in your disappointment with your phone pressed to your ear.

“sweetheart, let me see you.” his voice comes out soft, like a plea. like, seeing your sad face illuminated against his phone screen will ease the dull, ache deep in his heart. you comply, also hoping that seeing him will make it feel better.

“there you are kitten.” a small smile creeps onto your lips, your thighs press together and your head turns away from the screen so he can’t see the effect he has on you. “hi sylus.” you keep your words short and tone sharp, leaving no room for him to worm his way in and melt your front. you are happy to see him, in all his exhaustion. he looks unreasonably handsome this way, in your opinion.

“you look nice. i’m sure you’re having a blast wherever you are.” despite your harsh accusation, the compliment draws a light chuckle from sylus. a handful of butterflies wake in your tummy and flutter around at the sound. “im miserable here, so far from you. you must miss me more than i expected if these are your words, hmm?” all you do is look into the camera and nod your head pitifully, hoping for the best.

he coos at the sight, a little too consiscending for you liking. “sylus, why can’t you quickly leave and see me then go back? even an hour will be okay.” you try pleading, the whine in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by your man and he makes sure you know he heard it by chuckling.

“you know that’s impossible sweetie. we use have to be patient, then we’ll be together again and i’ll give you just what you’re asking for.” you blink at the screen then put on your best i-have-no-idea-what-you’re-talking-about face. “i haven’t asked for anything but to see you the time you said you’d be back.” he nods and hums at your words, as if hes agreeing with what you’re saying, “that, and something else you aren’t saying explicitly. maybe, it has something to do with the calendar.”

you know exactly which calendar he’s referring to but you still turn your head to look the giant yearly calendar up on your wall then back at him. “the calendar?”

there’s something so endearing and unexplainably sexy about your attempts at being clueless to sylus. this week you’re ovulating, you know it and sylus knows it too. it pains sylus in a way he cannot express that he can’t be there for you, in the way the natural instincts in your body need him to be.

“isn’t it hot there in linkon? i suggest you get comfortable, sweetie. no need to be so clothed in my presence.” continuing your little game of feigned innocence, you nod at sylus’ suggestion and undress out your pyjamas. using your pillows as a pillar for your phone to rest against so sylus can see all of you.

a wicked grin sits on his lips as he takes in all of you, he pull his robe open at the sight of you then frees himself from the constraints of his boxers the he lowers the camera so you can see his growing cock. your clit swells ever so slightly and twitches at the sight. “come closer, sweetheart. i need to see you better.”

you move your hips closer to the screen, parting your thighs more for his viewing pleasure. a low groan rumbles from his throat, his hand slowly moves up and down at the sight. “won’t you touch yourself for me?” as if you’re his robot, your fingers find your clit and your two middle fingers press against it and move it around in small circles; a soft sigh escapes at the feeling.

sylus’ deep crimson eyes would burn through the screen if they could with the sheer intensity he’s watching your fingers move on your sensitive bud. “put them in, kitten.. i know you can.” his words fall out his lips before he can think about them and carefully choose them. your walls clench around nothing at his sudden command, but you obey and slide your fingers into your slippery hole one at a time then you curl them up the way sylus usual does and you press against the soft spot embedded in your walls, earning a slight quiver in your thighs before you start to slowly pump your fingers in and out.

sylus brings his phone closer to his face, so he has a better view, in turn his hand starts to move faster. sylus can’t find anything to say other than encouragement to validate you into continuing. soon the call is only sylus’, “that’s it kitten..”, “you’re doing such a good job.”, “you sound so beautiful.”, “i can’t believe you’re all mine.”

“‘m gonna cum sy..” your voice comes out barely above a whisper but your microphone luckily catches it, and so do sylus’ ears, in response he groans lowly and asks— no demands that you cum for him. happily, you oblige. your fingers work at all your sensitive spots to pull the orgasm out of you in a way that fails to replicate the way it feels when sylus does it.

your back lifts off the bed a little as your body shudders and quivers through your orgasm. your boyfriend watches with his jaw dropped and a groan of your name is all the warning he gets before hot cum spurts out his tip and lands on his stomach and rib cage.

your fingers slowly leave your creamy hole and you slowly lower your legs, your eyes closed and sylus’ hand let’s go and his head falls back as he attempts to catch his breath. “i’ll come see you as soon as possible, sweetheart. i’ll make sure of it.”

———

happy new year!! let’s have a good 2025 guys! one of my resolutions is to write more, let’s hope it comes to be!!!! woo! yay!

this fic is inspired by the tweet above, the idea got me out my writing slump let’s all clap our hands and jump for joy!!

(i forgot how to write smut 😝👍)

[pickingupmymercedes]

It always points South - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Around 6 requests have come through with that cardigan and compass tattoo. I love it that you guys know what that tattoo does to me.

It's not a sequel/prequeal but it has the very same motivation I want South

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, (p in v)

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +1K

a/n: It's not proofread. I don't think I've ever written a smut that fast, but it had to be done, blame Eric and Lewis.

a/n.2: Thanks anon that suggested Y/n using his cardigan for everyone to see, it's chef's kiss at the end.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

You stretched your back as you sat up on the edge of the king-sized bed, careful not to wake Lewis. The Monaco Grand Prix weekend was always a whirlwind of activity, and today was no different, but normal life was still happening, and you still had meetings to attend and errands to run, leaving Lewis to enjoy a few extra hours of sleep before his media obligations.

You kissed his forehead softly, whispered a quick "I love you" as you watched he stir and hug your pillow before tiptoeing out of the bedroom. Hours passed in a blur of meetings and phone calls. It wasn't until you had a moment to breathe that you checked your phone.

Notifications flooded your screen, all centered around one particular post.

There it was: a photo of Lewis, looking effortlessly cool and undeniably sexy in a sheer blue Dior cardigan, his chiseled chest, familiar compass tattoo on full display and a nostalgic caption that seemingly looked like had been written for any other post.

You couldn't help but laugh. Leave it to Lewis to try and deflect with heartfelt nostalgia and high fashion his own touch of cheekiness.

Without much thoughts, you shot him a quick message: “Babe, that paragraph on your Instagram doesn’t excuse how you’re showing your goodies to everyone in that Dior see-through.”

His reply came almost instantly: “What goodies?”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth as you changed the possessive pronouns to tease him. “My compass tattoo”.

The rest of the day passed by in a series of meetings and errands, but your mind kept drifting back to Lewis’s tattoo. You always had a soft spot for it, especially given how you often found yourself choosing "south". You wondered if he thought about it as much as you did.

Later that evening, you were back at the apartment, standing in front of the bathroom mirror, brushing out your hair. You had just slipped into a robe, preparing to shower before the sponsor's party you were both attending.

The door creaked open, and you saw Lewis's reflection in the mirror, leaning against the doorway with a smug grin plastered on his face. “So” he began, his voice low and teasing “your compass tattoo, huh?”

You turned to face him, feeling a flicker of desire in your eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing with that outfit” you teased back, your voice sultry. “You’ve got half the internet drooling over you”

Lewis chuckled, crossing the distance between you in a few strides. “And the other half wondering how I managed to land you” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist.

You laughed, playfully pushing at his chest. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Hamilton.”

He leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss. “Is that so?” he murmured; his breath warm against your skin.

You pulled back slightly, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t think this means you’re off the hook. That cardigan was basically nothing”

Lewis’s grin widened. “It’s fashion, love.”

You rolled your eyes again, but your smile gave you away. “You did look incredible.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, and you melted against him, the day’s stress evaporating in his embrace.

“You know” he said thoughtfully, in between kisses “we don’t have much time until the party.”

You glanced at him, a playful glint in your eye. “I guess it’s a good thing those motorhome quickies have made us pros at time management”

You sneaked out of his embrace, letting your robe slip from your shoulders and fall to the floor as you made your way to the shower. The sight of you, completely naked and inviting, had him mesmerized. He quickly shrugged off his clothes, his eyes never leaving yours.

As you stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading down your body, you gestured for him to join you. “Aren’t you coming?” your voice a sultry whisper. “We’re going to have to multitask.”

Lewis didn’t need another invitation. He stepped into the shower, the heat from the water mingling with the heat between you two. He reached for you, pulling you close against his body, his hands trailing down your back, savoring the feel of your wet skin under his fingertips. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, despite the warmth surrounding you.

“Missed you today,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

He kissed you, deeply and hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth with a mix of urgency and passion. Your hands roamed over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles and the familiar compass tattoo that had occupied your thoughts all day.

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he kissed along your jawline.

“All day,” you admitted, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he nipped at your neck. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you and that tattoo.”

“Yeah?” He grinned against your skin, his hands sliding down to your hips, gripping them firmly as he lifted you slightly, pinning you against the shower wall “What about it?”

“How it always points south” you said with a smirk, wrapping one of your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Lewis chuckled, his eyes darkening with desire. “Good thing south’s my favorite direction.”

He adjusted his position, one hand braced against the wall, the other guiding himself to you. When he entered you, the stretch was as overwhelming as ever, a mix of pleasure and urgency that left you breathless. You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move.

“Love, you feel amazing” he groaned, setting a fast, intense rhythm. “So tight, so perfect.”

“Just like that, Lewis.” you breathed, your voice hitching with every thrust.

He kissed you again, swallowing your moans as his pace increased, each movement driving deeper, harder. The water pounded against your skin, mingling with the heat of your bodies, creating your own sauna in the shower cabin.

“Do you like it when I wear things like that?” he asked, his lips brushing against your ear, his breath hot and heavy. “Showing off for everyone?”

“Maybe,” you teased, your hands tangling in his wet muscles. “But only because I know you’re mine at the end of the day.”

“Always” he murmured, his voice full of promise. “Only yours.”

You clung to him, your body arching into his with every movement. You moaned in tandem with his thrusts, your sounds a desperate plea as you felt yourself nearing the edge. He growled in response; his pace relentless. “Come for me, babe” he urged, his voice rough with desire. “Let me feel you.”

The tension coiled tightly within you finally snapped with his pleas and you came undone around him. “Lew” you cried out, your nails digging into any skin you could find.

“That’s my girl” he groaned, following moments later, his own release shuddering through him as he buried himself inside you. “Fuck, you’re incredible.”

Breathless and sated, you stayed wrapped around each other for a few moments, savoring the closeness, breathing into each other. The water raining down on you, washing away the evidence of your passion, but never the memory.

When Lewis finally set you down gently, his hands lingered on your hips. “We really are pros at time management” he said with a breathless laugh. You smiled, leaning in to kiss him softly. “We should get ready before we’re late.”

He nodded, stepping back to give you space, though his eyes remained locked on you, filled with admiration and desire as you finished showering. “Can’t wait to see you in that dress,” he murmured, his voice full of promise.

As you stepped out, you caught sight of Lewis toweling off, his muscles flexing with each movement. The sight giving you a renewed wave of desire, suffocated on the knowledge that there wasn’t time for another round.

As you finished your hair and makeup, you started to apply lotion to your skin, aware you got that Lewis watched you from the corner of his eye, his gaze appreciative and heated. “You keep looking at me like that, and we’ll never make it to the party,” you teased, slipping into your dress.

He chuckled, fastening the buttons of his shirt. “Trust me, I’m tempted.”

The white linen dress you’d chosen clung to your curves in all the right places, you turned to Lewis, giving him a twirl. “What do you think?” His eyes darkened with lust and admiration. “You look absolutely stunning”

As you looked at yourself in the mirror a thought popped up, and the glint in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed as he watched you reached for his bags by the bed.

“Would you mind if I borrowed that?” You muttered already adjusting the blue see-through cardigan over your dress, his eyes sparkling with lust at seeing you wearing his clothes for the world to see.

“Love, everyone’s going to be looking at you tonight and I’m going to have a hard time keeping my hands off you.” He whispered as he checked your reflection in the mirror, arms wrapping around your waist.

You turned into his embrace, placing a hand on his chest. “We’ll just have to be patient, won’t we?” He held your gaze, a ghost of a smirk on his lips as he kissed just below your ears “I’ll do my best, but no promises.”

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[court-jobi]

For Your Eyes Only

💥Poll Reveal: Birthday Special💥

Pairing: Bakugou x tattooed!reader (fitting theme for biker!reader, no?)

Words: 2.2k

Rating: 18+ (heavy smexy insinuations near the end)

Warnings: NSFWish, reunited lovers, partial undressing, body worship, tattoos, possessive!Bakugou, basically foreplay, implied sexual touch, reunited and it feels so good

Summary:

Someone's missed their Pro-Hero while he's been off lighting up villains for seven weeks straight. The meantime does gives you the brilliant idea for a gorgeous new tattoo, though... all for your darling hero as a birthday present while he's away on mission, so you can keep the freshly inked secret close to your chest. Pretty nice surprise waiting for Bakugou to unwrap when he gets home, yeah?

A/N: Remember THIS POLL? Y'all gave me some splendid direction, thanks so much to everyone who voted! Might still very well run with some leftover ideas and make another fic for our other recipient (Birdie Boy Hawks), but hope you enjoy the winner~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

"Ready for a surprise?"

Shrugging off his shoulder strap, Bakugou stares after you in snarky disbelief. He hasn’t even taken his shoes off yet, dammit. Still, he can’t help but smile.

"Hmm a surprise, huh? Takes a lot to surprise me, sweet thing…"

"Oh, I think I've done it this time,” you swing your hips on your way to the kitchen. “You haven't noticed it yet in all our calls- though I guess you haven't really had much chance to, lately."

"Tch– don't remind me,” he toes off his travel shoes by the table. “This whole ‘secret agent’ bullshit took way longer than I thought it would- been dying to get back to you. Haven't talked to you in days, or had decent reception enough to look at a photo in weeks; forget anything else. Speaking of…c’mere you.”

Bakugou slinks towards you, though you back up away from him, tugging your yukata taught from the back so he couldn't make a grab for it.

“What’re you runnin’ way for, heh??”

"Not letting you spoil it so fast there, babe~!”

You hop onto the kitchen counter with a couple careful adjustments to the overlapping ends of your robe, –sweet, sexy appeal coating your words.

"If you're gonna unwrap it, you've got to have a good view."

Bakugou teased the tip of his canines with an appreciative chuckle.

"You're my present, are ya?"

"Something like that."

Bakugou eyed you over with sneaky wonder. What on earth could you be hiding. 

His attention trailed down your legs- socked, but otherwise bare. He steps closer to you, wedging between your legs with a forceful jut of his hips, and cups your jaw into a long, starved kiss. You won't be getting out from under his grasp anytime soon, he's makin’ damn sure of that. 

It’s not your first kiss since Bakugou’s arrival through the door, but deeper than that quickie peck you'd given him at first sight. You’d hugged him tight around the neck in perfect bliss after such a long separation– only to dart away, killing any of his plans to never let you go. 

That long-awaited kiss of greeting was kept painfully brief by Bakugou’s standards– followed immediately by your retreat to the kitchen, where you’re now acting the most secretive you ever have in your entire relationship. 

He'd be crushed if he wasn't so confused. 

Parting, he rumbles directly into your waiting mouth.

"What are you up to, pretty?"

"No funny business. Just a great surprise." 

You’re toying with his hoodie’s knotted ends, cinching and uncinching the knots and seeking shy permission to strip him. Bakugou lets you, shedding his pullover that reeks of airport and leaving him in the black compression shirt he could trademark- wrinkled, half-rucked up his abs, and perfect.

To his surprise, you seem pleased enough with this level of undress and stop tugging on him altogether. At the moment where he’d expected you to slip his pants loose next, you merely push him back into place between your knees. Doing so allows the space to scoot just so towards the edge of the counter. 

You brace back on your palms, posture up and cutting your sights down to where his hands trail across your waist: he’s calculating your moves for hints, few as they are.

"Go on and open it."

Bakugou's brow still worked together as he fought his edging smile. 

What on earth could this be? His first best guess would be something sexy to wear, but he honestly finds that pointless since nothing lasts that long on you, anyhow. A laced-up view would be the most mouthwatering sight for the man who’s been starved of you for seven straight weeks… but he reckons this has to hold bigger shock factor. 

Following your lead and gentle instruction, Bakugou sweeps an eager hand back with a jerk to untie your sash and then bends over to divide the curtain of your kimono to your hips, granting him the sweet heat of your calves, knees, thighs, and-- 

Bakugou's jaw goes slack.

Atop your left leg, creased at the flesh of your hip lay his intended surprise: a fully realized tattoo of gorgeous black and grayed ink. 

The center of it all bore a gorgeously stylized pawprint -left empty of pigment for contrast- digging in slightly to the flesh, deliciously possessive, as if the full body were howling its word of ‘mine’ into the night. 

Claiming its territory. Guarding its beloved.

Naturally, the design didn't stop there. The paw and its indentions laid surrounded by a burst of swirls and sparks resembling firework patterns: some as sunbursts, some as residual trails of light intermixing with haze. The most notable hailed the shape of ‘Dynamight’s fanned accents– mimicking the rays of the earth’s brightest star– known by just about every folklore believer for strength and victory.

This shading is impeccable: saturated to perfection and a gorgeous display of artistry. There are billows of ombre smoke that spread throughout the design, creating a nebulous effect throughout the background, leaning into uncanny imagery of a certain someone’s quirk.

Each element features his take on ‘lucky charms’~ branded right there on your skin. 

The symbol was divine… and for a man with a faster tongue unafraid to speak his mind, Bakugou has no words.

Dumbstruck and in utter awe, Bakugou's fingers trail in slow motion towards your newest addition of skin ink. He releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding back, crouching subconsciously to one side, revealing more and more skin with the lift of the kimono. The hipband of your underwear cut off the very spiky peak of a spark, but it didn't hide much of the body of the tattoo- all was plenty visible from the hip, down your thigh.

You sneak in a cautious breath with proud anticipation, drinking in Bakugou's every soft reaction. A little huff escapes your nose seeing your partner’s mouth hung open from the moment he locks sight of your leg– sights which have never parted since. 

Not to speak, not to swallow, barely to blink.

"Happy birthday, Katsuki~" you nearly sing.

Finally, Bakugou tears himself from his trance to lock into your brilliant eyes, their bright points muted in this low light by the kitchen window.

"When-- hah- ho-?"

"You were gone almost two months, honey," you reminded with a twinge of sultry pride. "Once you got orders on the op, I booked the outline, then another session for the fill. Healed up just in time for you to come crashing in the door."

With your non-balancing hand, you twine your fingers over his, swiping over the lower half of the tattoo. The movement matches the curve of the curling tufts of smoke laid there.

Bakugou follows as you move his hand along by your guidance, leading him lazily until you trace it down to the bottom, not wanting to cover up anything.

Taking a slow knee to study it with careful hands cupping your thighs, you coo light in your chest with a loving stroke on your hero’s arm as Bakugou gets comfortable on his knees.

"This-- this is days worth of work, for you.." Bakugou muttered breathlessly.

"‘Bout three full days, start to finish. Larza did such a good job, didn’t they." you beam, crediting your artist. With a little sparkle, you hedge your newly revealed excitement, "--Do you like it?"

Bakugou's squint through his surprised joy was adorable- though he'd deny ever resembling anything close to the word.

"Sweet’eart... S'fucking gorgeous."

His weak slack-jawed look turned into a grin, which drives up into a breathless laugh. 

But Bakugou is not done marveling yet…

You rake through his wild hair lovingly, doubling the intimate experience. 

“Three days,” he husks, "That's a long time, angel. You stayed so still for this one- there's not a stroke outta place."

Recounting each of your other tattoos that lie either on both your arms or other bits of tender skin, this piece held significantly more ‘natural cushion’ to work with.

"Probably hurt the least of any of them, honestly. M'not gonna lie n’ say it was a breeze near the hip..but hell, was the finished product worth it."

At this, Bakugou finally shows an emotion other than ‘want’- a flash of concern tents his brow and firms his lips as he lifts up to you.

You could laugh about it now; all discomfort is long gone after the insanely prickly healing process.

"Not too much of course! Just the usual. But the itching- oof, that wasn't funny. Had to hide out here for the first two days- couldn't wear any clothes over it yet. Just me, your pillow, my Kindle, and a vat of lotion to keep me from going out of my mind from the blistering. N’ I couldn’t handle talking to you, or else y-"

“-You faked a head cold, you crafty little DUMBASS!!” 

Bakugou pieced together your ‘random’ excuse for those days when he’d tried to touch base with you.

The sidenote of spending that much time alone -wearing next to nothing- sends Bakugou reeling into lust again in a heartbeat; all while you giggle at your successful ruse. 

Gifts to your lifemate have all carried meaning and touched on every part of his identity. Whether it was a symbol of your connection, or a splurge that he’d been pining for but far too tight-fisted to award himself, you stepped in and would take extra care into a special, well-thought out present on these occasions you felt were worth celebrating– even if he’d sooner forget. 

Bakugou’s arrival home landing on his birthday was a true afterthought to him; but not to you. 

Your skin laid newly adorned with more stunning art– but more notably, laid nearly bare under his hands. Right where he craved them, and right where he could smell your very essence - just a little closer. 

It’s no secret how much he loves every inch of you -inside and out- and in every curve and crevasse… and it’s here that his brain clicks together why you’d sat so precariously on the counter now.

Bakugou thanks you with his whole chest, the lovesick aura glowing even more beautiful with its rawness.

"This is absolutely beautiful- I love it, baby,” your striking boyfriend declares the impact your gift has had on him, "Fuck me, this is-- first the rings, then the new gauntlets, now this?"

"Well, anyone can see those first two in broad daylight,” you sass… then softer, “This one's just for you, Kats..."

"Damn right it is," Bakugou leans down, eyeing you before laying a euphoric kiss on the tip of your hipbone.

Heated lips kiss the same spot again, slower this time. Then another, further down. And again, and again- covering the art with wet lovemarks. You've moisturized the tattoo expertly, treating it with an essence of mango and verbena filling his senses– and a light coconutty taste, as he'd learned from the last time you'd gotten one done on your shoulder. 

Passing over the wolf’s claws, Bakugou bared his teeth ever so much, rumbling a happy growl to make you laugh- then moan. Pleasure, adoration, obsession.

With a flash of crimson up to you,  Bakugou hungered low and deeper still,

"Sounds like torture, angel. Don't know how you invite that sorta pain over and over…” 

Affected by his slow worship along your leg, you subconsciously tuck that leg in; anything to give him more space to cover, make sure nothing is missed.

“I keep tellin’ ya, it's not too bad. You’d look pretty hot with some ink, yourself.”

While the man disagrees with a playful sarcasm, his respect for both your thoughtfulness -and pain tolerance- is enough to get him hard.

Bakugou fantasizes about the whole process: taking a wildly rapid pen to you, laid on your side naked from the waist down, drawn u[on as a living, breathing canvas… all with the sole intention to be marked for his eyes only, forever. 

Three whole days.. Bakugou mulls over the work you’ve done. The statement you’ve made with this gift. The proud look in your eyes that doesn’t regret a single stroke, and has chosen to celebrate its claim on your body by giving him full rights to every inch of you…

“Wasn’t even ‘ere to hold your hand through it…” Bakugou offers sweetly. He would have been at your side, had he not been off saving the world yet again. 

A touch of dominance comes through his observation, eliciting a delightful reaction he knows will follow. You affirm; giving a sweet, pliant moan of agreement, while you shake your head in a ‘no’ for your past loneliness. You’re ordinarily plenty self-sufficient even in his absences, but play the role of the left-behind lover adorably well.

While one powerful hand teases needy fingers over the seam of your underwear with the intent to rip them off and another reaches for your ankle with plans to chuck it over his shoulder, the birthday boy relishes in the sights, sounds, and feel of you already–

“...I should make up for your troubles now, shouldn't I?” Bakugou rumbles like spring’s telltale thunder in front of your core, ready and waiting to taste, “Gotta thank you properly, yeah?"

[distressxox]

Kengan Men: What turns them on?

!Nsfw! 18+! Afab bodyparts mentioned

Ohma Tokita

• Calling him a good boy. Doesn't matter if you say it teasingly or seductively. It will hit the right nerve in him

• Watching you walk up the steps while he's behind you. Likes seeing how your hips and ass move from side to side.

• Pulling his hair, especially while he eats you out. Roughly tugging at it while arching your back as he sucks on your clit.

• Wearing his clothes. It's like eyecandy to see how his shirts fall on every curve on your body. Will fuck you senseless if he finds out you're not wearing anything else but his shirt.

• Seeing you a bit more dominant also gets him riled up. Bonus points if you're a fighter, seeing you beating the shit out of someone gets him instantly hard.

• Squeezing and admiring his muscles, he knows what his body does to you. Purposefully flexes his abs while ramming his cock into you so you can see and tighten around him.

Lihito / Ichiro Nakata

• The basics. Lingerie, dirty talk, seeing you in any tight and revealing clothing.

• Flirty texts and nudes.

• When you bend over in a skirt. Has to lean to the side a little to see how far it rode up before smacking your ass.

• Degredation. Yes I'm serious, but not the extreme types.

• "You're my little fuck toy, you know that? My good little fuck toy" "Y-yes, I'm your good little fuck toy" he replies as you grind on his dick relentlessly.

• Seeing you wear lipstick, knowing damn well it's gonna end up all over his body at the end of the day.

• Looking up at him while you suck him off. That's why he looks away from you during blow jobs otherwise he's just gonna burst.

• Telling him to fuck you. Whether it's commanding him or begging him, his pants are coming off. When you moan "faster" or "harder" He goes insane and swears under his breath as he nears his peak.

Raian Kure

• Praise. Praise. Praise. Whisper how good he is at fighting or how sexy he looked while doing and it sends him over the edge.

• Being rough with him. It seems like he'd be the one manhandling you, for the most part it is. But scratching his back, biting him, and gripping any part of his body tightly awakes a primal urge in Raian. Mostly because he likes to keep memoirs of how good he fucks you.

• Suffocate him with your thighs. No light squeezes, make sure you're actually suffocating him with them while he's sticking his tongue down your pussy.

• Begging. No matter the context, it will always make his head go crazy seeing you pleading for him to fuck you, or to buy you ice cream.

• Chokers where they have spikes on them or a ring. He wants to get you one with his name on it. For bedroom purposes...

• Whimpering or when you moan into a pillow. You look sound so cute and helpless and it makes him wanna growl.

• When you gag on his dick. Further more reason to shove it down your throat.

Gaolang Wongsawat

• When you wear silk or satiny robes with some of you chest exposed. You look like a Renaissance painting to him if you sit in a robe in the evening infront of a window

• The after-shower look. Your hair is wet, your skin is dewy, and you're wrapped in a towel. Scolds himself for not joining you, but is also glad to see you walk out like that.

• Romantic atmospheres. Candles, lights down low, rainy nights. Anywhere he can truly cherish you and your body.

• Seeing you tremble and hold back your moans from pleasure. Will try his best to make you moan louder though.

• Squirming underneath him as his fingers curl inside you.

• Moaning his name into his ear, something about it just makes his mind fog with the dirty things he wants to do to you.

• Seeing his bulge in your stomach while he slowly thrusts in and out of you. Tries to not look to much because it will make him cum almost instantly.

Saw Paing Yoroizuka

• Flashing him. A nipple, a bit of underwear, your ass, he will get flustered and try to hide his hard on.

• Shoulder kisses and hickiessss

• Words of encouragement. Like "You're doing so well, just a little longer" and "Yes, right there- Please"

• On a similar note, telling him how good he's making you feel. Commenting about how you're gonna cum on his fingers or his cock.

• Giving him a hand job as you look into his eyes. Kissing his lips as his knees weaken and he groans uncontrollably. Thrusting into your hand as hes desperate to climax. Everytime

• When your eyes roll over in euphoria as he snaps in and out of you repeatedly. The sight of you is enough to drive him into craziness and break the bed.

• Watching as your hands desperately grab the sheets or his arms because of the amount of pleasure you're experiencing

Kanoh Agito

• You wearing sheer tights, leggings, or nothing at all on your legs. He isn't that horny / needy all the time. But when he gets you at the right moment, he's on his knees kissing up your foot to the back of you calve.

• Neck kisses. Your lips fluttering up and down his neck as he tilts his head to the side. Closing his eyes and he sharply exhales.

• Body worship. Fight me. I will die on this hill.

• Watching your body's every reaction to his touch. His hands sliding from your waist down to your thighs.

• Your face as it winces in pain as you struggle to take his length after a while.

• Hearing you moan is like music to his ears. Him slowly rolling his hips in and out of you so you feel every inch of him.

• Your body when it moves in sync with his. Finally feeling one with you again as it reacts positively to every single movement.

Wakatsuki Takeshi

• Feeling you pressed against him. Like hugs and cuddles, sometimes he'll get a boner but won't tell you unless you notice

• Strip teasing. It takes every ounce of willpower not to rip your clothes off of you, but he likes it.

• Riding his thigh, holding onto his shoulders as he presses you harder into him. Loves how needy you get as you grind faster, riding out your climax.

• Holding you on his shoulders, against the wall, while he eats you out. Your palms pressing against the ceiling as he sucks on your folds and nibbles your inner thighs.

• Playing with your breasts/chest as his fingers mercilessly rub your clit in circles.

• When your thighs shake as he inserts himself. He knows he needs to take it easy because of his strength, but one of these days he hopes you let him be a little rougher.

• He likes to press his thumbs into your stomach while gripping your hips and bouncing you on his cock. Feeling the slight bulge of himself moving before cumming inside of you.