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dollgxtz · 4 months ago

Note

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

#umi writes ♡︎#sylus x reader #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds smut #lads #lads smut #lads fic #lads scenarios #l&ds sylus #l&ds #love and deep space x reader #l&ds x reader #sylus x reader fic #love and deep space smut #lads sylus

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yanmuffins · 24 days ago

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waiter! waiter! more phineas and ferb reader pls!

I wonder how the batfam would react once they catch reader inventions on a random tuesday, like, "hm, what a nice day to look out on the window and HOLY SHIT WHY IS THERE A GIANT ROBOT SPITING FIRE WHILE RIDING A ROLLERCOASTER IN MY BACKYARD???"

the events that would follow this incident would be funny and exasperating, me thinks

also, wouldn't it be funnier if Perry the Platypus was part of the JL? and like, no one knows his identity but Superman, and neither of them are willing to talk about it-

I know it would be very unlikely, since everyone there would have enough neurons to recognize a platypus with and without a hat, but for the sake of shit and giggles, just think of how funny that would be

welp, I needed to get that outta ma chest, I hope I at least made you laugh a little, because seriously this is one of the best ideas I've seen in this tag and I can't stop thinking and giggling about it

Stay well!

context.

first: i was not expecting this concept to be so popular!! the responses i've gotten from everyone are so amazing!! ( ⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝) thank you for the ask, anon!! it always makes my day.

i am formally announcing that i will be turning phineas and ferb reader into a fic now. it's too good a concept to pass up. something more light-hearted to work between the other fics i'm writing.

batfamily finding out about reader's whacky inventions would be an event. it so wholeheartedly shatters the image they had of reader to the point they just have to sit with what the hell just happened for a while before they even consider what to do about you next. still so many things that don't make sense. their newest case is how the fuck did we go this long without finding out (Y/N) has been building mechas in our backyard and why are those things always gone when it's convenient.

then the realizations just start dropping on them like an anvil on a looney tunes character. and they kinda feel like shit, cause how did they not notice? really puts into perspective how they've neglected you all this time. so many stunts you pulled right under their nose, on their backyard, their garage, throughout gotham and metropolis. ok, were out there being creative and amazing and you sure know how to spend the wayne family money, they'll give you that, but it was so irresponsible of you! who knows what could've gone wrong. you're not like them! you're a civilian with no training, the only regular teenager in the family, you're the last person who should be exposing themselves doing all that.

bruce goes off on you, screaming about how could you be so reckless, you did all of this behind his back– what? what do you mean he gave his permission? and he is floored, devastated, blood pressure up, when you remind him of every instance you dropped by his office with a document for him to sign or to ask for permission, with proof as you pull out every paper he put his signature without a second look.

and that, ladies and gentlemen, is when reader's dynamic with the batfam does a complete 180 and their little yandere antennae start going off. no more whacky cartoonish shenanigans. at least not without proper supervision. they know you're not a fan of this new arrangement, but you gotta understand they let you go unchecked for way too long! they'll drown you in family activities so you don't even have to worry about it. who wants to build a teleportation machine, anyway? just join them for family movie night.

as for perry, that is going to take them a while longer to figure out. bruce just can't stand another insane discovery, so when batman sees an intelligent platypus wearing a fedora and walking on two feet on justice league headquarters (if we're going by the idea that he's a part of JL), he's just going to think "my kid has a pet platypus. huh."

oh, consider:

dick: "damian, you knew all this time?! our sibling could've gotten into serious trouble! why didn't you tell us about this?"

damian: stares into the camera like he's in the office.

#anonymous #asks.#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batman #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader

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remi-thirsts · 7 months ago

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𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍?

pairing: gojo, geto, choso, and toji x fem!reader (separate) summary: celeb!au where the boys are interviewed and asked a pretty personal question ! (I took nanami out bc I don't think he would want to share your business with the world) content: kinda suggestive, established relationships, allusions to sexual themes, mentions of dacryphyilia in toji's, pet names, cursing, celebrity!au (model, singer, actor, etc) wc: 1.4k

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

"Yes, yes! Thank you for joining us today, Gojo-san. All of your fans are excited to see you play the new lead role in this upcoming movie!" For the past hour Gojo has been answering questions many of his fans have with an interviewer who has gathered some of the most asked questions.

"Next question!" The women exclaims excitedly, when she reads the card she pauses in shock, "Um.. who put this card in there...?" Now the white haired actor was curious.

"Well, what does it say? I'm sure it can't be that bad." His cocky attitude is showing, but a huge percentage of his fans like when he's like this. It makes fantasizing him all the more creative and exciting; or so you hear.

"Uh...uh. Um-" She remembers the camera is rolling, and this is live TV. "Many fans know you have a girlfriend and a lot of them want to ask,

"What is your favorite position?"

Gojo knew his PR team would probably get on his ass for answering this question instead of moving on to a different one but he doesn't care- at all.

"This is a tough one... hm. I guess if I had to choose I'd say cowgirl. I love the way she rides," he pauses for a second before continuing with excitement, "She's hella good at it too! Every time I watch her bounce on it my eyes about roll to the back of my-"

"OKAY. Thank you, Mr. Gojo!" She interrupts, quickly turning to the camera with a very forced smile.

"There you have it! We'll be back after a brief commercial break!"

♡ 𝐒. 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

Your boyfriend, Suguru, started a podcast about his music life with his band mates two years ago. Since his group already had quite a huge fan base, it was no surprise they took to their podcast with excitement.

Usually the group would talk about funny backstage stories or moments where their performances were almost ruined. Today they're doing a Q&A, the questions that are most asked will be answered first, while less popular questions will be answered later.

"Oh shit, people wanna know Suguru." He quirks an eyebrow, the raven haired male leans his mic towards his lips so the people can hear his voice.

"Know what?" A sly smirk forms on his face because he knows there could be at least a million things 'the people wanna know.'

"They wanna know what's your favorite position to have your girl in." The lead singer snickers whilst asking the question. Suguru clicks his tongue and taps on the desk a few times.

"I really like to have her legs behind her head cuz I can reach really deep that way."

"Sooo, mating press?" Their lead singer is just as nosy as their fans so of course he's gonna press on.

"Hell yeah, man." Some of them clap and others laugh at Suguru's openness.

-----

You were really busy but you decided to tune into your boyfriend's podcast after a bunch of people tagged you on twitter to go listen to today's episode.

When you hear Suguru tell all 2 million of his podcast listeners what position he likes to fuck you in, you scream into your pillow and turn into a giggling mess.

He never knows how to keep his mouth shut, and you love it.

♡ 𝐂. 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎

You're laying on your boyfriend's bed listening to him play his game. Choso's a big time streamer at this point. Four years ago when he started his fan base was quite small and he just enjoyed the few who would join his gaming streams. Now, Choso streams as work and he still loves it just as much as he had long ago.

"Thank you for the tip 'prettyem0b0y22'," Usually Choso reads aloud whatever message they leave with their tips but he hesitates this time.

"Uh- you don't really expect me to answer that, right? She's laying on the bed right now."

That statement immediately grabs your attention, you glance at his monitor screens, trying to get a peek at whatever his fan was asking of him.

It seems plenty of others want to know the answer to this question too because the chat starts speeding up, meaning that they're spamming.

"Guys come on, I'll turn chat off if you guys don't stop." Choso is as scary as a cute little kitten, so they just keep at it, and now you're curious too. What could possibly be that bad that he didn't want to answer it and to be fair he has answered some pretty crazy questions before.

"Indulge me Cho, what did 'prettyem0b0y22' wanna know?" His head swings so fast he could have gotten whiplash from it. His cheeks are burning pink and his brows furrow in confusion.

"I promise it wasn't anything crazy, don't worry about it." Oh, you're worrying about it alright. His strange behavior prompts you to spring up off the bed and walk your way over to his desk.

Instead of just taking a quick look at the chat, you make yourself comfortable in your boyfriend's lap. Obviously the chat goes absolutely crazy when they see you make this gesture. Choso is no doubt embarrassed but he slings an arm around your waist anyway.

"So what was the question he couldn't answer in front of me?" Prettyem0b0y22 wastes no time sending another hefty tip.

"I asked him what's his fav postion with you." When you read the whole thing aloud some giggles leave your lips.

"He likes when I ride him while facing him. For what reason? He's a titty man." Choso gasps as you expose both of you. The risks are high, anyone, literally anyone could see this clip and think something about you, but you don't care. It's your body and his, people don't have power over how you two interact with each other.

The chat explodes with all kinds of things, most are shocked emojis, while others are spamming the cherry emoji. Luckily, Choso's moderator team puts slow chat on and does a few other precautions to settle the situation.

"Baby- I- what if your family sees this? Or worse your boss?!" His concern is absolutely adorable.

"Well I guess I'd have to start a streaming channel of my own?" Everyone in his chat is totally on board with that idea. They've seen you play for Choso before and they think your commentary on games is quite funny.

"I don't want you to lose your job though." This time he whines in pure worry.

"I won't, baby. It'll be alright. Don't overthink it."

♡ 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

Toji's got what people want to see in model catalogs and magazines. The slutty waist, the well defined but not too defined muscles, his beautiful eyes and long lashes. Toji is a picture perfect model, which is what landed him his modeling gig and even a whole career a few years later.

A journalist, who's particularly interested in his dating life more than his modeling career asks him a bunch of dating related questions.

Some have speculated that Toji was dating, but he neither confirmed nor denied those allegations. You and Toji agreed to keep your relationship on the down low, because having a bunch of strangers in your personal business was not desirable.

The journalist woman words the questions in a way of inference.

"Assuming you had a girlfriend, Fushiguro-sama. What would your favorite position in bed be?" At first Toji groans but then when he registers the question he decides he'll answer it hypothetically when in reality it is something he likes to do with you.

"Hypothetically speaking, if I had a girlfriend my favorite position with her would be missionary, because I'd want to look at her pretty face when she's cryin' on my cock." The journalist writes that down, Toji knows everything he says will be censored but the people will still be able to figure it out.

"Missionary, really? Many people online have guessed you were a doggy-style kind of guy. Based off of your twitter statement that said and I quote 'Love it when her ass is phat. Love squeezing that thing.' End quote"

Toji lets out a deep laugh before answering the woman, "Doggy-style is for people I don't care about, people I don't want to look at, my girl- if I had a girl, she wouldn't be just any fuck."

More theories start to surface after Toji's slip up of words, and that's okay, because they don't know you and you don't know them.

divider: @/plutism

#𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 #✩ jjk post #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto smut #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji smut

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sooniebby · 1 year ago

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Man… I’ve been thinking again.. it’s horny thoughts again.. it’s been about a magic dildo—it’s weird but lemme explain!!! Bottom male reader! Enjoy~

A smut fic were reader moves in with some random dude in an apartment. They have a regular roommate relationship for the most part..

Until when you find a dildo stashed in a box in the laundry room. It’s never been there before… Hm, it can’t belong to your roommate.. you’ve heard his.. night stands.. he’s not the one screaming

And you might’ve.. accidentally seen him fucking one of his friends before…

Yeah, he wouldn’t use this dildo.. but you could be wrong. Reader noticed though that the dildo couldn’t have been used ever since there was still plastic around it.

It even had a tag. Ah, this was store bought? A gag gift..? Your roommates birthday was five days ago. Well, if your roommate wasn’t going to use it, might as well… use it yourself?

A bit weird but you’re curious. The dildo is thick.. very thick and a bit long. Curiosity just got the best of you. So one night when you knew your roommate wasn’t home and decided to use the dildo.

It takes a few tries but you’re able to get the dildo inside your ass. It’s a nice stretch, pretty good actually. It’s long enough to easily graze over your prostate. Fuck, if your roommate didn’t want this dildo you’re going to keep for yourself.

You spend the next few minutes just fucking yourself. Moans load and unabashedly with the house being empty (besides your roommates cat)

You couldn’t help your thoughts slowly drift off onto your roommate.. that one time you saw just a glimspe of his cock fucking another man’s ass. His slim but toned frame, long fingers, his bangs that stuck to his forehead while he sweats .

His name just kept rolling off your tongue by now. Your hand holding the dildo that blessed your prostate and insides going faster. You began to lightly thrust back into it—just wishing it was a real cock. It was so hard to control the speed while you continued to lose yourself

But it seemed you weren’t even controlling it anymore. The dildo was just going by itself, but not like a vibrator. It was actually thrusting inside you, reaching your prostate easily. It felt like a real cock.. like someone was actually fucking you right now.

You cried out at the new sudden harsh thrusting but you were way too close to your release to even care that this dildo had a mind of its own.

You came with a shout, soaking the bed sheets beneath you as you sighed in relief. Fuck, you were keeping this dildo. But.. it was still moving?!

Before you could even scream out in horror at whatever the fuck this dildo actually was, your bedroom door slammed open.. and there was your roommate.. looking.. less human than before..?

“You finally found it? What took you so fucking long?”

Apparently your roommate was an incubus.. and the dildo was magically connected to his own dick.. huh, that’s why it moved like a real cock.

Well, you certainly didn’t get any sleep for that night.. or the later nights after that :)

Went off the deep end lol, I do so well with these types of stories.. kinda wanna do more for incubus roommate tho.. it’s interesting~

Tag list: @kiiyoooo @nakedtoasterr @the-ultimate-librarian @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow

#bottom male reader #x male reader #smut prompts #smut ideas #mlm nsft #mlm ns/fw #oc x reader #uke male reader #smut drabble

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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 9 months ago

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≡;-꒰ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐋 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍

╰┈➤ ❝ rafayel x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : softdom!rafayel, hints of switch!rafayel, reader is hesitant with intimacy, descriptions of self-esteem issues and general insecurities, mentions/implications of toxic relationships, implications of dubcon (not with rafayel), praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, heavy petting, first time sex (with each other) (no virginity loss), masturbation (f), oral (m. receiving), vaginal sex, cowgirl and missionary positions, unprotected sex, creampie, soft sex, use of pet names "cutie" "princess" "baby", references to card "fiery undercurrents", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((unedited))

wc : 7.9k (help me)

youtiful masterlist

a late birthday os for our favorite deep sea painter! ✨

You jumped at your phone, nearly gasping at the caller ID that flashed on your screen.

"Rafayel!"

Your grip on your phone was tight, held against your ear with an immediate burst of excitement.

It had been days.

You knew how it was, of course—an artist's inspiration was often sporadic and fleeting, and you'd even lost count of the number of times Rafayel had told you that. How essential it was to grab the spark of creativity before it you lose it; how paramount it was to focus on your flow before it disappeared... It was ingrained in the forefront of your mind, by now.

And even more than that, if Rafayel had always been one to speak of the elusiveness of inspiration, then Thomas had always been one to insist you leave him and his stroke of genius alone whenever he called for it.

You didn't understand much about the world of artists, so it was natural for you to take their words to heart, but it hadn't been easy.

Rafayel, being Rafayel, would always send you texts and updates, never failingly missing a single day... But it had been days since you'd last heard his voice at all—much less seen him. Now, marking a week sinve you'd been to his studio at all, you were pacing back and forth in your apartment, wondering how long you had to wait, and if maybe you should take a chance and visit him yourself—

But you didn't want to be selfish.

In fact, you quite despised being needy at all—with a quiet laugh, you thought, that was usually the role that Rafayel would play in your relationship. You wouldn't think to take it from him.

Yet, now, your phone rang, and the ever-familiar sound of his voice brought on a wave of butterflies in your stomach that had your mood lifting in seconds.

"Heeyyy there, cutie!"

In the background, you could make out the faint sounds of metal against concrete in the background, and your ears perked.

"Is... that your ladder? Have you finished your painting?"

"Yeah! It really took a while, this one... But Thomas'll be happy to know that it's finally finished! ...That is, if I could get ahold of him..."

You carefully sat on the edge of your bed, swinging your legs in sheer happiness at his little ramblings.

"...And, actually, I kind of need your help."

You blinked.

"Hm? Help? With what?"

"Well, you know how I told you it's been kind of a while since I last cleaned this place...?"

"...Yes..."

"Are you free now?"

"Rafayel, you can't mean...?"

"Yeah! Can you come over and help me clean?"

You couldn't believe his first thought with this call was to ask you for your cleaning services. You strained to hear the familiar tease in his voice, even waited for a moment for some kind of "Just kidding!" or whatever else that could tell you he wasn't being serious—

You felt your eyes narrow in disapproval when you found nothing.

"Rafayel, I'm not your maid, you know."

Not even an "I missed you", not even a " Want to hang out later?".

"Yeaaahh.... But you're my bodyguard, right?" The hopeful tone in his voice now would have made you laugh.... In other circumstances.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" There was a laugh, then, on the other side of the line, and you huffed. "Rafayel, don't joke with me—"

"Look! I told you, right? Thomas won't answer me, and, seriously! The studio's a mess. I really need some help... Please?"

He was laughing completely now, and the sound brought over that same, very familiar ripple of butterflies, despite all the odds.

You caved.

"This is labor abuse, Rafa. Of your own girlfriend, might I add!" You hmphed, but stood up from your bed, haphazardly gathering your things into a purse and walking out of your flat. "Fine. I'm on my way there."

"Oh, you really are the best girlfriend I could ever have wished for! Thanks, princess! See ya!"

Not even a "stay safe"!

You wondered if this was what Rafayel felt whenever you were late to receive his calls or to reply to hia texts, and you sighed.

Is he just trying to get back at me...?

Regardless, he made up for his actions by immediately twirling you over with a kiss the minute you knocked on his door, and you smiled.

"Nice to see you again, princess," he grinned.

You thought you could never have wanted to see his smile as much as you did now—

But you couldn't bring yourself to admit that to him.

"Would've been better if you said that when you called me, huh?" You rolled your eyes playfully, shoving him aside and scanning the space in front of you.

He hadn't been lying.

Paint had been scattered around, well past the patches of safety paper he usually had lying all over his studio. While you were used to seeing the place mostly messy, anyway, this seemed a lot less like the organized mess you were used to. What's more, the painting wasn't even in this room anymore, and god knows where he'd put it now to dry.

You turned towards him with the raise of an eyebrow.

"Geez, Rafayel... This place looks like it's been through a hell hole. What were you doing?"

"Painting."

He shrugged, ever nonchalant and casual, only as if stating the obvious—that clearly being so engrossed in your painting would result in such a mess, and that clearly—he handed over a bundle of cleaning supplies—this was a very normal way of greeting your significant other.

You sighed.

You supposed, nothing was ever truly normal with him, anyway.

By the time you had finished, the sun that peeked through his windows bathed his studio into a golden glow. You settled onto the couch beside him, silent as he rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder, your head resting contently on his shoulder.

"You're rich, Rafayel," you mumbled, a little tiredly. "Why can't you just hire a maid if you don't want to clean things yourself?"

"And where do you think I'd find one I could trust enough to let near my paintings?"

The scoff in his voice made your lips quirk into a smile, and you tilted your head up to look at him.

...Ah.

Your breath caught in your throat when your eyes met, the gentle mix of red and purple hues in his eyes once again having you transfixed. His hair was slightly unruly from the work you'd both done, but the sunset rays streaming in from the window had little specks of sunlight painting his tresses in such a way that had you utterly mesmerized.

He chuckled slightly.

"Cat got your tongue, princess?"

You could barely bring yourself to mumble a response when he leaned in, shifting your positions just enough to have you lying on your back against the couch. Half of his weight rest over you, and you could feel it; his heartbeat against yours. You could almost amazed feel at the comfort in your synchronicity.

He sighed, brushing your hair out of your face. "...Why haven't you been to the studio?" he mumbled.

His words pulled you out of your reverie, and immediately, you felt your heart sink.

"...I thought... I thought you'd be busy..." Your voice came out meek, already searching his eyes anxiously. "Thomas told me not to disturb you, a-and I thought, maybe, you didn't want to be interrupted? I know how hard it's been for you to finish that painting..."

You swallowed thickly.

"Yeah, that might be true..." Rafayel nuzzled your nose affectionately, succeeding in soothing your nerves down to a certain degree. "But what if I wanted to see you, too?"

"...You... You usually just ask..."

Your words were met with silence, and you squirmed under the intensity of his gaze.

"Rafayel—"

"But you can't expect me to be the one asking for you all the time, right?"

Something at the back of your mind told you he didn't mean it that way, but his words stung nonetheless. The disapproval in his pout made your stomach churn. The atmosphere had, to you, become a little weightier, and your chest felt heavy with guilt.

You promised you wouldn't make him wait... But didn't you, in the end? Some useless game of seeing who'd cave first?

Your gaze shifted away from him, and you played with the hem of your shirt.

"Sorry, Rafa, I didn't mean to upset you... I-I don't know much about art, and I didn't want to bother you, and—god, actually, maybe it was stupid of me to just rely on Thomas' words instead of asking you, I'm such a terrible girlfriend—"

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you spoke, but before you could proceed any further, you felt the soft sensation of lips upon yours.

You blinked your tears away rapidly, refocusing to meet his, parting your lips slightly in shock when he pulled away.

"Don't say that, princess." He shook his head, and there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "You're not a terrible girlfriend. You're perfect, actually, and... I'm partly to blame. It was wrong of me to test you like that... You're right. I should have just asked."

You drew in a breath.

Perhaps, it was because your roles had been reversed today; perhaps, it was because you'd been so anxious to see him again that even the slightest signs of any conflict had you feeling like walking on eggshells. But it was rare for you to see him take the situation at hand so maturely, and it did well for the tenseness in your shoulders to melt away.

He moved his hand back into your hair, soft, gentle strokes, if only to soothe you further away from your worries.

"...Well, actually, maybe we both are a little stupid. I... kind if made the studio messy on my own."

Your ears perked up with that, and you looked at him curiously.

Rafayel laughed.

"It wasn't that bad when I'd finished! And I wasn't lying, I had been neglecting the studio, I just..."

When his voice trailed off, you found the courage to speak again.

"Did you.... Make an excuse to bring me here?"

He smiled, bringing his lips over to the top of your head, another one on your temple, and then another one over the corner of your eye.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I missed you a lot. I guess I just got creative... A little too much, anyway."

His lips were on yours again the next second, soft pecks that made your heart soar with glee. You wrapped your arms slowly around his neck, barely registering the way he'd pulled himself over you, feeling safe under the weight of his body—you liked this. And you missed it, being close with him, having a few moments to yourselves just to revel in each other's warmth.

With half-lidded eyes, he pulled back for air, panting softly over your skin.

"...You really could have just asked me," you whispered, gazing into his eyes and allowing yourself to get lost in them once more.

He let out a soft laugh. "Hm, yeah. Buuuut, maybe I thought this would be more interesting... And maybe, then, you could stay the night, too..."

His eyes flickered closed as he ran his hands through your hair once more, bringing a lock up to his face and letting out a sigh.

"You used that shampoo again."

You faltered slightly at his words, but he pressed you against the couch, capturing your lips into a deeper kiss.

...That shampoo.

You knew exactly what he was referring to.

The last time he'd noticed this scent on you, the way he'd pressed his lips against yours had been anything but innocent—it was one of the first times the both of you had made out together, the hairdryer and towel that had started the whole ordeal then long-forgotten beside you. The mere thought of that night brought an undeniable flush to your face, an all-too-familiar tingling sensation breaking throughout your body.

And you knew what he was insinuating. Even as he continued to kiss you, and even as you felt yourself easily melting into him the way that you would.

His hand began to roam your body, slowly stroking down your sides, making their way to your thigh and inching closer, closer, to the heat of your clothed core—

Your breath hitched.

You couldn't control it.

It was like instinct, whatever this conflict of mind and body really was—

You immediately reached out to grab his wrist, and his reaction was immediate. In an instant, his lips were off of yours, and he froze in place, wide eyes searching yours.

"Shit," he whispered. "Princess, I'm sorry— Did I— Did I go something wrong—"

Though breathless and panting, your lips quivered, and your grip on his wrist tightened.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Slowly, you felt him peel himself off of you, sitting up carefully... And you took in a deep breath.

"R-Rafayel, I..."

The waver in your voice and the alarm that had found its way into your eyes weren't missed by him, and you turned your head. "I'm sorry," you swallowed thickly. "I... I don't think i can do this right now..."

You felt feeble and small as you moved to draw your knees up to your chest, almost as if with the intention of hiding yourself away. "I... M-maybe, just... Not tonight...?"

When you sneaked a glance back up at him, you could see it. That glimmer of hurt in his eyes, perhaps just barely there, but more noticeable to you than anything else. You were also made painfully aware of the sun that had set, the studio now darker into the night—a cold draft blew in through the windows and made you shiver, and now, you felt incredibly small.

Rafayel, however, gave you another soft smile, gently moving to sit with your legs over his lap, resorting to holding your hand in his gently.

"Okay," he said.

And it was so simple the way he accepted your rejection, so devoid of judgement, that it made you feel...

Guilty.

Even guiltier than you already were to begin with.

"...I'm sorry, Rafa, I—"

He shook his head, giving your hand another squeeze.

"No, that's... Well, also on me. I should have asked you about this first, too..." The regret in his voice made you want to hit something. "It's okay. We don't have to do anything today. I'll wait until you're ready, princess."

...He'll wait?

Quietly, you moved to crawl back towards him, snuggling into his chest.

This wasn't the first time he had tried to go further with you. That night, after drying your hair, had been one of such times, and it wasn't as if you didn't want to take the next step in your relationship.

In fact, you wanted it just as much as he did.

You've fantasized about it for nights on end, laying on your bed, fingers playing with your clit and imagining how well his hands would have worked you, how well his cock would have stretched you out and filled you up far better than your fingers ever could. You lost count, how many times you'd come undone, alone on your bed, having his name spill from your lips as you did.

You wanted so badly for him to ravage you.

But thinking of it was incredibly different from having the situation at hand right in front of you.

You were nervous.

There were so, so many things that could go wrong from just exposing yourself to him as you would have if you did go that far—just as so, so many things had already gone wrong the last time you had, with other people.

You buried your face into his chest, pressing against him, drowning yourself in his warmth.

"...Are you mad?" You whispered.

"Me? Why would I be, when you're cuddling me like this so tightly?" The playfulness in his voice chased enough of your worries for you to let out a little laugh. "Just so you know... I'm perfectly fine with this."

You shifted, tilting your head to look up at him.

Rafayel gently poked at your nose.

"I can't be mad at you, princess, just because you said no to me. There are other ways for us to be affectionate, and I don't need to have sex with you, you know?"

"...But you want to?" Your voice remained meek, still very obviously wanting to hide yourself back into his shirt. And you would have, if he hadn't pried you away, hands firmly over your arms, leaning down to study your gaze.

"R-Rafa—"

"I want to, princess, but only if you want to. And I need to make that super, suuper clear to you, because I won't be forcing you into anything you don't want. 'Kay?"

His words sent a flurry of comfort into your stomach.

"...But... But what if I make you wait too long? You dislike waiting... A-and it's normal, anyway, right? For couples to have sex? If we don't, then..." As you spoke, you noticed a frown frown gradually form over his face, and you faltered.

"You... You expect me to leave because of this?"

You turned your gaze away in silence.

"Princess... You... May I ask where that's coming from? Do... Do you feel unloved with me? Am I doing something wrong?"

It was like a trigger—the way his voice dropped into a soft whisper, his hands falling back down to take yours in his, lacing your fingers together.

He was so gentle with you.

You felt the unwelcome sting of tears in your eyes, and you shook your head—"N-no," you whispered, squeezing your eyes shut. "You've done nothing wrong, but... But you're so—so nice to me, Rafayel..."

"...Baby? Of course I'm nice to you! Aren't you my girlfriend?!"

The nickname switch made your heart jump, and you nuzzled yourself further into his embrace.

"...I don't deserve you."

A pause.

You felt as if you could drown in the silence, even though you knew that he was just thinking of what to say.

"I'm sorry, I just made things worse—"

"...Deserve me? There's... there's nothing for you to say that—princess, that's my line, you know. You deserve everything—every little good thing out there, and so much more than me."

"But—! You—you're so good to me, and I'm—! How many times did I disappoint you? This whole week, and even just now, and—"

You felt yourself sniffling, and Rafayel once again brought you to look up at him. You chewed on your bottom lip, a flash of insecurity in your eyes that made him sigh softly.

"No, no, no... Don't cry, princess... Nothing's going to change just because of this, yeah? You know I love you. And nothing in the way that I love you is tied to... whatever ways you'll allow me to love you. I get it, you know? If you're not ready to go there yet, then that's fine. I promise. I don't make promises without reason, princess."

His gaze, now, was firm, and his words were warm. Genuine—like he always was with you. In the silence that followed, you felt yourself calm down slightly, your breath easing, the tears in your eyes blinked away in your insistence not to cry in front of him.

And more than anything, you found thr conviction in his words to be something you could... Trust.

You took in a deep breath.

"I've... I've done this a couple of times before," you spoke, slowly, quietly. "It's been a while since the last time, but— it's— it's just scary, Rafa."

Your voice trembled, and you hung your head.

"And I feel like it's so silly to be scared of it. It's always so obvious that I am, because I get too focused on trying to relax that I never really do, and then in the end I can only ever make up for it by letting them finish. So I— I don't know. Everyone says that couples always do this, like it's supposed to be a staple... Or else, what are they for, right?"

You let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, but it almost came out as if you were scolding yourself.

"Wait—hold on. You... You've never orgasmed?"

You blinked in surprise this time, looking up at him with a confused frown. "Huh? Only on my own, I guess... Never with them, no, but—"

"Oh, princess..." he began, almost like a whisper. "You've never enjoyed it, have you...? To call it a staple... Gosh. It's not something necessary to maintain a relationship, let's get that out of your pretty head first."

You watched him bring his hand over to the side of your face, a gentle caress.

"I don't know if humans really do think such fickle things, but I wouldn't leave you just because you won't go further with me. I want you to be ready before we go there. Okay? God, who have you been with?! They sound like the worst kind of humans!"

Despite yourself, you laughed at his indignation, watching him fall back against the couch with his arms crossed.

"No, seriously, baby—doesn't it sound wrong to you?! You know, I wouldn't have stopped until you came. In fact, I bet I could make you feel so much better than they ever could—" He paused, ears turning slightly red in telltale embarrassment. "...Sorry. I'll be totally patient, I really mean it. I was just, you know... saying..."

You giggled.

Rafayel was always cute when he was embarrassed, even if just a few moments ago, he'd so obviously reduced you to just a puddle through his kissses alone.

But his words, once again, made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. When you looked at him, his eyes were as gentle as the waves of the ocean you'd grown to love almost as much as him, and you couldn't help but feel... safe.

You'd never really felt safe before—not with anyone else.

Any time you opened up about this, your previous partners would have scoffed in your face—would have told you there couldn't have been a basis for what you felt, and that there was nothing more irrational than all of these needless worries of yours.

It was silly.

You had always believed that.

Yet you couldn't help feeling the way that you did.

Whenever you experienced sexual intimacy with anyone else, though you had let it happen in the end, you had never... associated it with anything special. Like you'd said, it only ever felt a mandatory part of any relationship. It was like going through the motions, and then you'd find out that you'd been a terrible experience—no matter how pretty they said you were, no matter how much you'd always be told that they were looking forward to it.

You were disappointing.

That was what conclusion you'd come up with, after several times of the same result.

And you always envied your friends, too.

Whenever the topic came up, they'd speak of how magical it was—how sweet, and how loving, and how good it felt... Yet you'd felt none of that. If there was anything good you associated with sex at all, it had been you—by yourself—in your room.

You really didn't know how to reconcile all of these feelings together—

And, yet, Rafayel had been the very first one to let it slide in a way that put your feelings first.

You promised him you wouldn't make him wait...

Yet here he was, adamant on letting you do exactly that.

You looked up at him, again, listening to him guide the conversation elsewhere, talking about how his week had been, and how painful it had been to get that painting done.

"You haven't seen it yet, have you? Hmm... I'm thinking if I should show you. I guess my girlfriend can have early access to it before the exhibition, right...?" He had one hand resting on your back, the other brought up to his chin in thought. "What do you think? Do you want to see it now?"

You stared, silently, as his eyes were back on yours.

That familiar, adorable tilt of his head, the inquisitive gaze in his eyes bringing that familiar shine to it that you loved, loved, loved, so very dearly.

You watched a small smile form on his features, and he pulled you close enough to have your foreheads touch.

"Hey. What's on your mind, cutie? You're spacing out again. Everything okay?"

God. You really loved him.

Even the simplest phrase had the butterflies in your stomach fluttering around almost mercilessly, and if you hadn't known better, you thought you were very likely blushing in that moment.

"Just you," you spoke, softly, quietly, barely even registering that you'd spoken so honestly in front of him before you recognized the look of surprise on his face. "Shit—I mean—"

"Nuh-uh, no take-backs! I like it when you're honest," he cut you off with a laugh, placing a quick peck on your lips.

Though he didn't say anything more on the subject, you knew he was thinking it—even if you'd tease, endlessly, of Rafayel's own clingier habits, you knew that in the end that you could easily eat your own words.

Rafayel was so good to you.

Sometimes you'd think he was too good to you—too good for you.

But admitting it out loud was always so difficult to you; your honesty of your own overwhelming feelings for him often more than you could speak to him yourself.

He reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ears.

"Maybe we should go to sleep, yeah? It's pretty late. You've worked hard!"

Slowly, you moved to straddle his lap, and then buried your face into his neck.

"...Princess..."

"...Are you really okay with this, Rafa?"

"Me? I told you, I'm perfectly fi—"

"I just—I could make you feel good, at least..."

Maybe you'd let him consume your thoughts more than you'd intended, or maybe the guilt was simply eating away at you, having never been truly placated. You didn't know which side of emotions you were acting upon, and perhaps, it seemed as if he'd sensed that.

"Baby... No. We're not going to do it tonight. I want you to set your mind straight first."

"But—"

"No buts!"

He lifted you off of his lap, another firm shake of his head. "I want to ease you into this. And that means I won't be taking any pleasure for my own just yet, because I want you to feel good."

"...Wh- What do you...?"

He smiled, before poking your forehead.

"I mean, I want you to be comfortable around me first, before you even think of trying to give me an orgasm." Rafayel gave your hand another squeeze. "I'm hoping I can at least show you that it's not supposed to be a bad experience. So we'll sleep on it first, clear our heads, take things slowly... Then we'll see how things go from there. 'Kay?"

"Rafa..."

"Baby, relax. No rush. I'm not going anywhere."

Rafayel was always so good to you.

Even through your biggest insecurities, there would be no exception.

It had been quite some time since that conversation, and, sure enough, he had been adamant on taking things slower with you. You could feel it, how he'd constantly hold himself back with you. The way he would be sure not to take it too far when he kissed you, always respectfully lifting you off of his lap whenever he felt like it would get too much if you continued...

He took things step by step, just like he said he would. From kisses, to slowly dipping his hands beneath your clothes—You had found, over the past couple of days, how warm his hands were around your breasts, cupping and kneading them like a perfect fit. It was comfortable. And it had become almost a staple to your cuddling sessions over time.

Those nights in his bed slowly, slowly became less than innocent as weeks passed by.

And then one other night, you'd finally gained the courage to let him go even further. His fingers were long, able to reach deeper inside of you than you ever could, and the stretch in your walls felt more than welcome after so long. It was just as you'd fantasized—he'd buried his fingers knuckle-deep into your cunt, slow thrusts gradually picking up the pace until you were trembling around him, his arms holding you safe as you released. Even now, when you thought back to that night, you felt tingles all over your body. It was the first time anyone had made you cum, the first time anyone had bothered to cradle you in their arms afterwards, the first time anyone had cleaned you up without you having to do it yourself—

You hadn't known that this could really feel so intimate.

So loving.

That Rafayel could ease all your worries away, so... naturally.

It had gotten to the point that you began to notice a boldness in both of your actions—you were growing more comfortable with him, like he'd intended you to, and now, you found yourself gladly on your knees, feeling the drag of his cock against the walls of your mouth.

He'd gotten you to cum from his fingers and his mouth multiple times over the past few days, and you had promised him—promised him—that you were only returning the favor because you wanted to. Because through the past weeks, Rafayel had been gentle with you, and patient—always asking for your consent, never pushing you to do anything you didn't want to, never even giving a thought to his own pleasure as long as it meant focusing on yours.

And this, you thought to yourself with a smile, was now a reward for for him just as much as it was for you.

Your eyes closed as you swirled circles over the tip of his length, taking your time with him as he often did with you. Your tongue ran up and over his cock, wetting him fully becore taking him in again, keening at the way his hips would stutter and his moans would reach your ears in a well-received melody.

"Fuck, yeah—Just like that, princess—" Rafayel's words were broken, his eyes half lidded as he watched you work him. "So good for me, baby—ngh, shit—"

You found his praises go straight to your core, eager to please him, eager to hear more. And in effect, your pace quickened, bobbing your head up and down his shaft, stroking and sucking him with a new hunger. His hands tangled in your hair, the sensation more than welcome as he guided you into a rhythm, hips bucking upwards to meet your mouth.

"So, so good— Feels so good, princess, don't stop—"

Another tug on your hair had you moaning against him, feeling him throb in your mouth at the extra stimulation.

He was close.

Determined to take in the sight, you watched, fondly, as his head fell back into the pillows, the skin of his thigh hot to the touch, your eyes drawn to the way his mouth hung open, his own eyes squeezing shut.

"Shit— M'gonna—! Gonna cum, baby, pleas—"

He arched his back, his hands fleeing from your hair to fist into the sheets beneath him. It hit in an instant, then—the sheer intensity having rendered him silent, mouthing curses, eyes still shut as streaks of cum shot out of him and onto your tongue.

You were familiar with the taste; warm in your mouth, and salty—thick. There was a certain discomfort to it, swallowing every last drop, but it couldn't compare to the thrill of it. Having Rafayel finally cum in your mouth, finally come undone for you... Your eyes locked as you released him with a wet 'pop', licking your lips and then hastily wiping your mouth with a little smile.

"Damn... That was..." He was breathless, chest heaving, barely moving to allow you to climb back up on the bed and reach for the bottle of water on his nightstand. "You're really... Really good at that, princess."

Feeling warm at another word of praise from him, you exchanged the bottle for the washcloth beside it, and crawled over to gently pat him clean.

"...Baby, I can—"

"If you won't let me do it when I finish, then I won't let you, either."

Your gaze was firm, and he laughed.

"Well played. My habits are growing on you, huh, cutie? That's good."

He pulled you up into his arms for a kiss, and you snuggled into his embrace. The heat from his skin was comforting—another thing you'd slowly gotten used to, having your activities now easily practiced without the need for any more clothes on.

"...How are you feeling? Was that okay?" He mumbled into your hair as you buried your face into his chest, lifting your leg over him as if to draw him even closer to you. You nodded quietly, and a soft sigh escaped his lips when you brushed your wetness against his still-sensitive cock. "Princess... Did sucking me off get you all wet?"

You could hear the laugh in his voice, and you whined.

"You— you made me wait to do that!" You protested, and you didn't need to look up to know he had that ever-present smirk on his face. "...I wanted to make you cum, too..."

He only replied with a chuckle, trailing his hand down your back to settle upon your waist. "I know. And thank you, by the way. Your mouth feels heavenly. Did you know that?"

You swat at his arm playfully. "Rafayel!"

"What? I'm only saying the truth! And, anyway..." You squealed when he leaned over to nip at your earlobe, completely sure of how flushed you were in that moment. "You're drenched, so which one will it be? My tongue? My fingers? My thigh?"

When you didn't reply immediately, he gently gave you squeeze. "Or do you want to sleep it off? We don't have to do anything if you—"

"N- no!"

You looked up, pouting, and found that the mirth in his gaze had melted away into one of pure adoration.

"I... I think..." You gulped, your eyes traveling downward to where you rest over him.

Your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You would have been lying if you said you hadn't been thinking about it on a constant—how he would feel inside you. And though you'd thought about it generally before, you found yourself warming up to the idea. Craving it, even, in a way you hadn't before.

You raised your head to meet his eyes again, holding your breath as you moved to straddle him, sliding your folds over his cock gently.

The moan that he let out was music to his ears, but when his hands gripped your waist tightly, you stopped.

"Fuck, wait—are you sure, princess?"

You smiled slightly at that.

Truly, Rafayel had been nothing but gentle with you; nothing but patient.

You nodded.

"I-I mean... Only if you want to? But you just came, right...? S-so, maybe not... Sorry, I don't mean to be needy, you can just—"

"Hey, hey. Deep breaths for me first, baby, yeah? Relax."

Immediately, his hands were rubbing soothingly into your sides, and you fell forward onto his chest, holding him close.

"Don't you worry about being needy with me, I don't think I'm any less needier than you, anyway," he laughed. "I want this. I really want this. But, princess... I need to know that you aren't forcing yourself into it."

You remained silent, only managing a nod.

"Look at me?"

Compliant, you raised your head once more, and Rafayel reached over to thread his fingers through your hair. He smiled.

"Verbal consent, princess. I've given you mine. Now, I need your confirmation before we do anything. Have you decided? Do you want me?"

Your heart swelled in your chest.

You didn't know how Rafayel could be so selfless with you.

None of the others you've been with would ever treat you this way, and it was... new.

It was true, what he said—it wasn't a secret to you how much he wanted you. Though he wouldn't say it, so determined not to make you feel pressured, you'd see it in the way he looked at you. The way he touched you. Even the way he spoke with you—always the more vocal one in terms of clinginess, even though you, yourself, secretly enjoyed his attention.

You'd understood from the start that he was doing his best to stay firm in his self control just for you, and it made you feel warm—Loved. Appreciated.

Even now, as you were sitting on his cock, readjusting your position only to have it poke against your back—he was patiently waiting for your answer. He was waiting for you to be sure about this.

You thought it ironic, almost.

It wasn't as if this was your first time, and yet... you'd never experienced someone be so gentle with you.

With another determined nod, you sat back up, placing your hands on your lap.

"Okay," you said, and took a deep breath. "I'm sure, Rafayel. I want you."

You swore you could feel the way his cock twitched at your words, and couldn't help the way your lips quirked into another smile.

He read your expression, and laughed. "You really drive me insane, princess."

His hands remained firm on your hips, gently lifting you off—"Do you want to stay on top? Set your pace for me?"

"...Um... Do you?"

"Baby, don't turn this back to me! Doesn't matter what I want right now, I wanna make this about you. In case you haven't noticed, I'd be more than happy to take you in any way you want me to."

You almost rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "...Okay, then... I'll try it like this. But, Rafayel, sometimes it's concerning how much you pay attention to my needs..."

"Me? Concerning? Says the one who's had some of the worst sexual experiences on the planet!" He scoffed. "Listen, princess. I say this a lot, but you understand, right? I'm not in this relationship for your body. I'm not using you for your body. I love you, because you're you, and not just so I get to fuck you some day." He paused, then, and you saw a flash of contemplation in his eyes, "...Which miiiight be today, but that's besides the point."

You laughed, this time, and perhaps in any other situation, you'd playfully hit his chest, and tell him to stop being so silly. But the lighthearted atmosphere was welcome, and you felt your shoulders slump in some sort of relief.

"I know, Rafa. I..." You bit your lip, steeling yourself, willing yourself to say it. "I... I-I love you, too."

Immediately, you watched his eyes widen, a certain shine in them that almost could have made you melt.

"...Seriously?" he whispered. "You mean it?"

You flushed at the way he sounded so much in disbelief, despite what you were about to do. But, perhaps, you understood the shock that he displayed. While he would often use the words around you—having made it clear that they were his feelings, and that you didn't have to reciprocate them immediately—you had yet to say it back.

You did love him.

Of course you did.

And you have, for a while now.

But it wasn't easy to speak these feelings out loud; wasn't easy to make yourself so affectionate and so vulnerable around him. At least, not as easy as it has been for him. It had been long established that Rafayel was the more expressive one—though he would tone things down with playful jokes and banter to match your pace of things, you knew that his feelings had been nothing but genuine for you.

And you'd always struggled to make sure that he knew you felt the same, but...

You nodded.

You could do it, this time. Give back all the love that he'd always given you.

Slowly, you reached behind you to guide his cock to your entrance, letting out a slow breath at the feeling of his tip—hot, and wet, and stiff—prodding your hole.

"I love you," you whispered, feeling confident, now, as you spoke.

His fingers dug into your skin as he gasped, finally having you slowly lower yourself down onto his cock. "Fuck," he muttered. His eyes closed—you could tell he was fighting the urge to thrust up into you. "You feel so... so..."

A loud whine rattled past your lips when he finally pressed all the way inside of you, so big, and so filling, like nothing else you've ever had before.

"Shit," he continued to curse under his breath. "So—so good, baby."

His hands, shaky, massaged your hips in reassurance, eyes opening to reveal a hazy glimmer of lust that you had yet to see on his face before. The image before you made you shiver—every ounce of self control was slowly slipping away from him, and he was trembling with the little bit of patience he still had left in his body.

"M-move," he whimpered, looking up at you with pleading eyes that made you gasp. "Please, princess—please—can you do that for me?"

Your jaw clenched, and you obliged—how could you resist?

You rocked your hips slowly, at first, getting used to the feeling of him in side you. And, you found—you were enjoying this. Whatever you'd imagined could never compare; he felt good inside you. Every sensation you felt of his cock against your center was pleasurable, every moan that fell from his lips having you swirl your hips with a need to hear more.

You bit your lip when he slowly began to rut his hips up to meet your pelvis, now finding the strength to guide your hips gently up and down his length—

"Fuck, baby, don't hide from me, please," he moaned, eyes locking with yours with an air of desperation. "Haah—Let me hear you—hear how good it feels—'s it feel good, princess?"

You found yourself obedient.

As his tip knocked up against your sensitive spot, a loud moan spilled from your lips—immediately, you rest your hands on his chest as your head hung, feeling yourself bounce to his rhythm, hips moving in sync.

"F-feels good, 'fayel— Ah—!"

"Yeah? Like that, baby? That spot, huh?"

You grinded down on his cock, eyes screwing shut at the sound of your arousal slicking around him. His words guided you through your motions, whisperes of praise and reassurance that had you soaring—and you could feel it. The tightness that had gathered in your stomach, slowly, slowly building into something more—but so far away, so unobtainable, that it had you whining.

"R-Rafayel!" You cried as you leaned forward, burying your face into his chest. Even as he planted his feet on the bed and thrust up into you, picking his pace up a little and grunting into your ear, you shook your head— "M-more, please— I— I can't—"

"Oh, fuck, princess—"

He groaned when you clenched tightly around him, and with quick movements, he had you lying on your back, caged between his arms as breathless pants fell from his lips.

"I—fuck, baby... Are you okay with this? I'll—Shit— Sorry, I m-moved—"

He'd snapped his his hips back into yours the minute you wrapped your legs around his waist, but when he looked at you, your own eyes filled with a desire that dared to rival his own, he let out a slow breath.

"...Okay?" he whispered.

You nodded. "Please."

Rafayel laced his fingers through with yours, holding them against the pillow. At your consent, he resumed his pace, fucking deep into your cunt with thrusts so precisely rubbing against your spot that you closed your eyes with another loud moan.

"Ah, Rafa—Rafayel, s-so good—"

Any thoughts of holding back your sounds were lost in the pleasure raking through your body, feeling the way his cock would brush against all the right places. So thorough, and so loving—and so, so good.

Rafayel was making you feel good.

Better than you've ever felt—better than your fingers, and better than his, and you thought—

Fuck.

You wished you'd gotten to do this sooner.

"P-princess," he whimpered, hips stuttering as he pressed his forehead against yours, drowning a myriad of moans of your name with the way he kissed you. So needy with his touches, you melted into him like you always did, easily following his thrusts and receiving everything he could give you.

"Princess—are you—are you safe?" he breathed.

You could feel the way he tensed inside you, his hips slowing slightly into a pace that had you whining as he waited for your reply.

"Can I... Can I cum inside? If—If you—"

It almost seemed like he could barely form coherent words, and you smiled slightly. Your arms wrapped around his neck; "I'm safe," you mumbled. "Go ahead, Rafa."

The moan that he let out sent a shiver down your spine, and then his lips were on your neck, kissing and sucking—you didn't even mind, anymore, whether or not he'd be leaving marks on you by the time you were done. Groans spilled from his lips between his kisses, and you felt yourself moaning along with him. The pace he'd set picked up, no longer as gentle as you'd started with, but you found that it was more than welcome.

"C-Cumming," you shut your eyes, breathing out his name in endless chants into his hair. "Cumming, Rafa, I—!"

You felt it.

The throbbing of his cock as he spilled rope after rope of cum into your cunt, just in time with your own release. Your nails dug into his scalp as you clenched sporadically around him, throwing your head back with a drawn-out moan of his name, feeling yourself drown in the sheer intensity of it.

"Rafayel—!"

"Fuck—Fuck—Take it, princess— Shit—" He hissed into your neck, pumping his cum into you, moans falling back into whimpers.

A moment passed after, and you smiled contentedly as he hugged you, pulling out of you but still so determined to keep you close to him.

"...R- Rafayel?" You whispered, soothingly stroking his hair. And only then did he look at you.

Your breath caught at his expression.

Tired, undeniably, but so... tender.

"Hey..." he mumbled, slowly moving up to give you a quick kiss. "Can you say it again?"

"H-huh? Say what...?" You felt your face grow even warmer at the mere thought of all the things you'd possibly moaned in the midst of your lust.

But he only smiled. "What you said, earlier. Say that you love me."

A giggle bubbled at your throat, and you pushed him onto the space next to you—

Naturally, he only pulled you back against him, arms wrapping around you, tucking you under his chin.

"C'monnnn, baby. Please?"

It was so hard for you to say no to him like this.

You turned around to face him, placing a kiss on his cheek.

"I love you, Rafayel," you mumbled with a smile.

His expression relaxed.

"...And, thank you. For always making me feel so loved. I've never... I've never thought it could feel like this, a-and..."

"Did you like it?"

"More than liked it! I... I enjoyed it. Really. Thank you."

He grinned, then, gently setting you down on the bed and placing a kiss on your forehead. "Then, mission accomplished! So... Let's clean you up before we sleep, yeah? We can have another round in the morni—"

"Rafayel!"

"I'm kidding!"

⁺₊ / an: holy shit this took an eternity to write??!?!?!! nearly 8k words, what do u know... all this love for the birthday boy, this is an insane amount of special treatment for rafayel fr 🍰

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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sigilslvt · 2 months ago

Text

HOW DEEP • SUGURU GETO

☣︎ Summary: It’s rush week at your college and your boyfriend chooses to put his prospective fraternity above your relationship. When you find out, you’re left devastated and, well… in need of a SERIOUS cover-up considering you’d gotten his name tattooed on your ass just two months ago. Good thing famed tattooist, Suguru Geto, has a shop by campus.

Pairing: Tattoist Geto Suguru x Fem Reader

Tags: modern au, pierced geto, tattooed geto, smut, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, cam sex, squirting, creampie, marking

WC: 7.6k

Art: yoroz_roz on Twitter!

A/N: This was a lot longer than I intended, you’re welcome!

Rush week. You’d prepared yourself for this week to be stressful given the fact that you’re in a new state, far away from your family and friends for the first time in your life. You had decided to commit to the same university as your long-time boyfriend, Ryōmen, and so far, you guys have kept to yourselves and relished in the lack of parental hovering. The problem is, since rush week started, Ryōmen’s been busy with all things fraternity related and you’ve been stuck trying to figure out college life on your own.

Normally being away from him wouldn’t be so bad, it was always as simple as hanging out with friends from home or just cruising around your home state, but you’ve got no friends here and no idea where to go to keep busy. Hence the dilemma at hand and the reason you’re in sweats and a sweater sitting cross legged on your bed in your dorm on a Friday night, of all nights. Your music plays loudly in your headphones, a soft vibration playing against your skull every time the bass thumps just right, your body idly bouncing with the beat. You don’t even notice a voice sounding out until you feel a firm nudge against your shoulder, which makes you look to your side in surprise to see your roommate, Yuki, sitting next to you and waving to get your attention. Your fingers find the pause button on your phone and you slide your headphones down to wrap around your neck.

“Damn, girl, I was beginning to think you were in some sort of trance while praising the devil, jeez. What kind of music is that, anyways!?” She asks, her brows knitting together in both confusion and amusement as she looks at the song cover on your phone, shaking her head.

“S-sorry, sometimes I just need to drown the world out, y’know?” You sheepishly respond, chuckling and flipping your phone around, a bit insecure. Normally, you wouldn’t be so nervous— back home, you had your clique and your tastes aligned perfectly. There was never a worry about being an outsider when in a group of a bunch of goth-grunge addicted teens. But, this was different. You’re in California, now, and there’s nothing but sun, bright colors, preppy girls all around you. You were the odd one out, now.

“Girl!” Yuki snaps in front of your face, making you realize you’d drifted off in thought while she was talking to you.

“Sorry, sorry! What were you saying?” You ask, shaking yourself out of it and rolling your shoulders back, showing her you’re actively listening to whatever it is that she’s trying to say.

“I was saying that you CLEARLY need to get out and what kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t help you get what you need, hm? Get up. There’s a party at Phi Gamma tonight and you, my sweet shut-in, will be coming. No questions asked.” She tells you, already standing and grabbing your hand, dragging you to your closet and planting you there while she opens it.

One thing you’ve learned since getting here and meeting Yuki? Arguing with her is futile. If she doesn’t convince you to do something she thinks is for your own good the first go around, you bet your ass she’s gonna take you by the neck and make you do it. It’s sort of endearing, because you know she means well, it’s just not the type of personality you’re used to.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve go— oh? You’ve been holding out on me, I see! What’s with the constant sweats and sweaters when you’ve got style like this!?” She asks after opening your closet, her eyes wide as she sees the amount of clothes, most being pre-made outfits, you have in there. You’re grateful she doesn’t mention the amount of black in your wardrobe that’s only separated by bits of white and grey. “Here, this should be great, go shower and get ready. We leave in forty-five!” You feel the outfit being shoved against your chest before you even see it, making you chuckle at her eagerness before you head to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later and you’ve showered, done your hair, and perfected your makeup. You’re wearing a black and grey striped sweater that stops mid-rib, dark denim shorts with torn fishnets beneath them, and Gaya 10-Eye Alt Doc Martens— your favorites. You layered some chains, a choker, and a long belt atop your outfit to top it off and switch your two nose studs and septum piercing to silver jewelry to complement the outfit. You do the same with your earrings, nearly forgetting to. Your makeup is dark and sultry, as per usual, a black lip paired with black eyeshadow and liner save for a pop of dark purple in the center of your lids and your under eye. Your hair is down, a black bandana keeping it back save for two strands of hair you keep out in front of your face.

You make your way out of the bathroom and Yuki turns to you, her mouth falling open at the sight of you. “What… the… fuck? Ok I see why your boyfie kept you cooped up here for two weeks after move-in. You’re hot, bitch! And these tattoos? They fuck. Hard.” She compliments you, making you chuckle. She gets closer to trace the cybersigilism tattoo that dawns your neck and collarbones, all the way down to the start of your cleavage. You raise your brow, a bit awkward given how comfortable she is, which she seems to realize, prompting her to step away. “Sorry! I’ve just never seen tats like that before! The ones on your legs are insane, I’d never cover up if I were you.” She shakes her head.

You shake your head and chuckle, but it does prompt a nagging voice in the back of your head asking you why exactly it is that you’ve been covering up head to toe. Was it because you’re scared of being an outcast? Is the weather too hot? No, that’s not it. You think back to a conversation you had with Ryō about being more tame while you were sat on your bed in your dorm. Something about not wanting to seem like the average college e-girl who gets around freshman year. You frown at the memory and shrug at Yuki. “Just haven’t had a reason to get dressed up yet.” You reason, making her shake her head, eyes still wide as she looks you over.

She stops ogling you to finish her own makeup, popping some lip gloss on before clapping once, turning to you. “‘Kay, let’s go!”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The walk to Phi Gamma isn’t bad in the least and you’re grateful for the California heat persisting through the night. If you were back in Washington, you’d have icicles dripping down your nose right now given it’s ten at night in the beginning of October.

You walk into the frat house with Yuki and you’re immediately suffocated with the smell of hookah smoke, ear-ruining loud music, and so many people. Too many to fit in the house, that’s for sure, but that’s never mattered when it came to parties.

“C’mon, let’s get you loosened up, first!” Yuki screams close to your ear so you hear her over the music, taking your hand to lead you to the kitchen. She pours you a cup of something dark before grabbing a coke and moving to pour that as well, but you hold your hand up to stop her.

“‘M okay, I don’t like mixers or chasers.” You tell her, making her raise her brows and hold her arms up as if to tell you to suit yourself, making you smile widely. You both down your drinks at the same time and she pours another with you both downing them again. With that, she leans close to your ear, speaking loudly enough for you to hear over the music.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find some weed, you smoke?” She asks and you shake your head.

“Not weed.” You respond, reaching in your pocket to show her your pack of Marlboros, scrunching your own face up in disgust and shame. You’re slowly quitting, though, so you give yourself props for that.

She shrugs and heads off, leaving you to yourself. You look around, trying to find a good spot to hang out in before you head to it only to be stopped by a soft pair of hands. “Hey! You’re in my Neurophilosophy class!” You hear the girl say, making you shrug with a nod. “I didn’t think I’d see you here! Didn’t seem like the type to like frat parties! I’m Utahime.” She shouts, clearly a little tipsy judging by the red tint of her cheeks.

You offer her a kind smile and your name before you start heading toward the spot you’d sought out, but she catches your hand and stops you. “Wait! Wanna dance? It’s just that… you’re the only one here I know besides my dumbass friend who’s probably off somewhere bragging about being ‘The Honored One’ because he caught the Phi Gamma chicken for initiation. Apparently that warrants a parade in his name or something.” She says, rolling her eyes at said friend’s antics. When you raise your brow in confusion, she chuckles. “Every year during rush week, Phi Gamma lets out this cursed looking demon chicken from Hell for their pledges to catch. They say it never gets caught before making it back to its coop, but leave it to him to do it. First time in seven years. It’s silly, really.” She explains, waving the conversation away. “So, will you?”

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, you pitying her situation, or just the fact that you’re happy to meet someone else who actively wants to hang out, but you find yourself saying yes and following her into the crowd of unbelievably sweaty frat boys and sorority girls doused in pink. Literally. Body paint everywhere. You’re sure to avoid stains as you dance with Utahime, chucking as she does the robot to get you to crack a smile. As time passes, you find yourself dancing so close to her that you’re sure you’ll merge into one being soon.

You let a bit more time pass before you decide on another drink, leaning forward to shout in her ear so she hears you. “I’m gonna get another drink, want one?” You ask, earning a head shake from her. Shrugging, you push through the crowd and find yourself in the kitchen again, pouring yourself another red solo cup full of alcohol. You sip on it, smiling to yourself because even though you miss Ryo, you’re still having a better time than you thought you would. That’s when you hear it.

“Bro, have you seen this shit!? No fuckin’ way did Zeta Nu initiate their pledges like this!” A guy shouts to his friend, your ears tuning into the sound of your beloved boyfriend’s frat name. You turn to see him showing his friend a video on his phone and you smile to yourself, happy the initiation is over and looking forward to being told whatever silly thing they had Ryo do.

“I fuckin’ WISH Phi Gamma would make us bang some sorority thot to get in! You think it was to count out whoever came first? Damn, look at bro with the pink hair going in like his life depends on this shit!” You hear the other voice speak up and your heart drops. A knot forms in your stomach and your hand gets clammy around your cup. Of course your mind is going toward the worst case scenario and before you can even think, your feet have carried you to the two guys, your other hand reaching for the phone the first one is holding.

“Lemme see this.” You say, the douche saying something about adding your number while you’re at it, but it’s drowned out into the background noise because you’re zoned in on one thing. Your boyfriend banging a sorority girl and smiling at the camera while flexing his fucking bicep. Flexing. He’s fucking living for this.

You feel bile creeping up your throat and you shove the phone against the guy’s chest, making your way to the door. The second you get outside, you hunch over and puke in the bushes, sobering up by the second. Your hand grasps at your chest and you feel it hammering so hard as though it’s trying to escape. Your other fishes your phone out of your pocket and you flinch seeing Ryōmen has texted you.

Him: I love you <3

You fight the urge to throw up again, your fingers typing back quickly.

You: I love you so much, Ryo. Miss you and wanna see you. May have drank a bit too much, hehe :3 Can I come see you?

You hit send, not even bothering to wait for an answer before you push yourself to head to his dorm, ready to use the excuse that you’re drunk and wanted to see him when you show up. Your phone pings and you open it faster than you thought humanly possible to see another text from him.

Him: Come to me, baby.

Before you know it, you’re at his door, knocking rather hard, if you were being honest, but you don’t care. Not seconds later, he opens it and pulls you into him, immediately moving to kiss your neck, which makes you want to shed your skin. When he doesn’t feel you reciprocate, he pulls away and frowns, eyes searching yours. “What’s the matter, hm?” He asks, head wobbling as the smell of alcohol hits your face. He’s drunk.

You walk into his room with an annoyed sigh, closing the door behind you and pacing for a moment before stopping in front of him. “Ryōm–”

“Y’look so hot, baby. Why were you out drinking looking this hot without me?” He asks with a frown, making you scoff unexpectedly.

“You really don’t wanna bark up that tree right now, Ryo. I need t–” You start, but he interrupts you again.

“And why d’you keep using my name?” He asks.

“Jesus fuck, Ryo. Let me talk!” You shout, your hands flailing for a second. He nods, mocking you with a stupid look on his face silently, making you seethe. “Tell me it isn’t true.” You say, earning a confused look from him. “Tell me you didn’t fuck some random girl to get into a fucking FRATERNITY, Ryo. Tell me you’re not that fucking insane.Tell me you didn’t just throw away YEARS with me after I came all this way to be with you.” You say, your voice firm. You surprise yourself with the fact that no tears have formed in your eyes just yet, the anger far more overwhelming than sadness.

His look of confusion turns to pure shock and it’s like a cold pitcher of water has just been flung in his face. “Who told y– babe. Babe, it was just a stupid fucking initiation thing, it’s not like I actually cheated. You’re my girlfriend, you should be happy, I’m in! I made it because I did what it took and that shows drive. Why the fuck are you even upset right now?” He asks and you have to do a double take to confirm what you thought you saw in his face. He’s genuinely pissed and confused that you’re upset right now.

That does it for you. “Are you saying… you didn’t cheat… because it was for an initiation? You want me to be HAPPY that you stuck your dick in someone that isn’t me? Fuck you, Ryōmen. I don’t know you at all. The boy I fell in love with would have been a man and turned the stupid fucking initiation down. This frat? Would have only mattered while here. Us? We were supposed to be together until death. Fuck you for choosing something so stupidly temporary. We’re done.” You spit out, rage bubbling in your core like you’re made from it. He grabs your wrist as you make your way out of his room, but you tear it away, every part of you in utter disbelief that you ever let a man like him touch you at all.

You make your way outside, your phone pinging again and again, no doubt messages from him trying to gaslight you into believing he did what he had to do for his future. You ignore them, sucking in the fresh air like your life depends on it and taking in your surroundings, still hoping in the back of your mind that they’ll all melt away and you’ll wake up from this nightmare. You, someone who’s always been mindful of your future and who has always taken care to do what’s best for you, are now in a new state so far from everyone you love all alone because of a boy. A fucking boy.

You take off the promise ring he gave you for your five year anniversary and toss it as far as you can, hating the idea of having a symbol of what you thought was true love with him on your body… and then you roll your eyes as you facepalm. Your fucking tattoo. Against the advice of literally everyone you know, you’d gotten a tattoo of his name on the top of your ass. “Fuck me…” You mutter to yourself, immediately googling a tattoo studio near you.

“Cursed Ink Studios…” You read the top result out loud, seeing it’s only a thirteen minute walk from here. With an annoyed shrug, you start making your way there, silently cursing yourself for assuming it’d stay warm all night. The cold nips at your practically exposed thighs and your nose turns its familiar shade of red quickly. You pick up the pace, hoping to find warmth in the studio.

A cigarette and a half later, you find yourself in front of the studio, snubbing out the last half of your cigarette and flicking it into the trash can. The bell above the door chimes as you make your way in and you’re greeted by a brunette woman who looks… worn down, to say the least. No doubt from the loads of drunken college students who’ve wandered in here tonight.

“Welcome to Cursed Ink Studios, my name’s Shoko. How can we help you tonight, babe?” She asks, leaning forward on the reception desk. You appreciate the fact that she doesn’t comment on the fact that you’ve thoroughly been done in by the cold wind that’s whipped your hair in every direction and kissed your nose until it’s red.

You shift on your feet, scratching your head. “I, uhh… I need a cover-up done.” You say, making her sigh as though she feels sorry for you.

“I’m sorry, babe, but cover-ups need an appointment ahead of time.” She says, earning a face palm from you. You nod and turn to head out, but a voice stops you.

“Wait. It’s fine, Shoko. I have time.” A smooth, deep voice sounds out from deeper within the studio and you turn toward it to see quite possibly the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. His skin is like cream, hair half tied up letting the rest fall down his back and shoulders, his eyebrow is adorned with a piercing, and gauges are sported on his ear lobes. He’s wearing a black tank top that hangs loose on him, his arms both covered in tattoos, the most notable one being a large dragon on his right arm. He’s carrying keys, which lets you know he was likely about to head home and you feel guilt pooling in your stomach.

You can’t help but clam up at the sight of him and you gulp before shaking your head. “N-No, it’s okay, really, it’s late and I should have known I’d need an appointment. Y-You probably wanna get home, seriously, it’s okay.” You say, trying desperately to keep your voice steady. He chuckles, eyes closing as he shakes his head and you look to Shoko, who gives him a knowing look, rolling her eyes.

“Nah, you’re good. What’re you needing covered up, angel?” He asks you, making your heart flutter. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your system making you so flustered, but it’s a welcome feeling compared to the anger you feel when thinking of Ryōmen. Which reminds you…

“So, and I’m prepared for all the judgment you’re probably gonna throw my way, I got my boyf— EX boyfriend’s name tattooed on my ass cheek a couple months back. Turns out he’s a cheating dickhead, so I need to get it covered up. Preferably with something similar to my current tattoos. Maybe… uhh… maybe a—“ He chuckles and interrupts you.

“I got you. And I’ll spare the criticism of your choice to tattoo his name. Just fill out the forms with Shoko and I’ll go get set up in my room. I’ll sketch something out, too. Cybersigilism, huh?” He asks, smirking as he nods at you while walking backward to give you a once over before he heads to his station.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

After filling out the forms, you slowly walk to the room you saw the man head to and you find him working on an iPad, drawing. “You can sit down, angel, I’m just finishing up.” He says, gesturing to his tattoo bed. You take the opportunity to look around his room, gawking at all of the drawings and photos of tattoos he has splayed on his walls. The decor matches your tastes, goth-grunge styling everywhere. It looks like he specializes in cybersigilism and neo tribal tattoos, which helps to reinforce your confidence in him.

“Geto Suguru, by the way.” He says, suddenly towering above you. You hadn’t even noticed he stood up and looking up at him from this angle makes your heart race. You tell him your name and his face takes on a look that you can only assume is curiousness, but he quickly changes his expression to a smirk. “So, here’s what I’ve got. Noticed the hearts you’ve got around your knees and the eyes you’ve got on your neck, so I decided I’d go with a sword. Figured it’d be fitting.” He chuckles as he shows you the iPad, which manages to draw a quick laugh from you.

“Fitting is exactly the word I’d use. I love it. Let’s do it.” You say, genuinely surprised he could even come up with something so quickly.

“Alright, I’m just gonna need you to take those shorts and fishnets off, angel. You can leave your underwear on, I’ll just keep them out of the way with some paper towels. Stay standing after so I can put the stencil on, ‘kay?” He asks. You know it’s what he needs you to do in order to do the tattoo, but your face heats up at the thought of being half naked with him. He closes the door to his room and turns away to prepare the stencil, leaving you to do as asked.

Slowly and tentatively, you take off your shoes and then undo your shorts, pulling them down and stepping out of them carefully. Next is your fishnets, you’re careful not to rip them when you take them off and lay them on top of your shorts. You’re thankful you wore a thong tonight, knowing it won’t get in the way of the tattooing.

He turns around, eyeing you as though just trying to see where he needs to put the stencil, but you can see something else in his eye. Maybe he pities you? You sure fucking hope not.

“Alright, ‘m gonna place the stencil and then I’ll need you to just stand for a bit while it dries.” He says and you nod. He’s methodical in stepping forward, disinfecting, shaving the area, and then placing the stencil on you, being sure to perfect the alignment so the sword covers Ryōmen’s name entirely. His long fingers press down for just a second before he removes the paper and steps back to see the alignment from afar. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He hisses under his breath, but you hear. You tell yourself he’s just proud of his work and try not to acknowledge the pooling between your thighs. “How’s it look, angel? Don’t be afraid to let me know if you want anything changed.” He tells you.

You move to step in front of the mirror, turning to your side so you can see your ass better. It plumps up as you flex and you nod at the placement before looking up to see him with his eyes shut and his head up at the ceiling. “Y’know, you really don’t have to do this if you’re tired, I can make an appointment.” You say, feeling bad.

“Trust me, I’m very much awake. Made me question if I was dreaming when you walked in, angel, but I’m awake.” He says, your eyes going wide and your mouth falling open, but just as casually as he said that, he moves on. “Alright, ‘m gonna have you lay on your side facing away from me. Just poke your,” he grunts “poke your ass out toward me and I’ll get started.”

You do as told, your body hot and exposed and your mind reeling from how casually he’d just said that. Surely it must be for tips, you can’t imagine he’d want you. Not just because he’s built like a God, but he must be taken, right? There’s no way on Earth someone like him could be single.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod, breaking from your thoughts. With your confirmation, he smirks and leans forward, beginning to tattoo you. Him being so close to your ass makes you want to tense up, but you steel yourself and rip your eyes away from him so you can attempt to stop the wetness pooling between your folds like a bitch in heat.

“So. ‘M guessing this was recent, hm? The whole cheating thing. Not trying to pry, just curious. We don’t have to talk about it.” He says as he focuses on the tattoo, dipping the needle into the black ink he’d set up.

“Mhm. Couple of hours ago. Ran a train on a sorority girl as some fucking frat initiation. Piece of shit.” You spit, hearing him scoff and looking to see him shake his head.

“Ouch. Yeah, he’s a fucking idiot, to say the least.” He responds and you bite your lower lip, blushing and looking forward again, at the mirror.

“I’m the idiot. I moved from Washington all the way here with him so we could go to the same college and I had no idea he was capable of this. Now I’m away from family and friends and just… stuck here.” You roll your eyes, huffing.

“We can be friends. I mean, it’s contingent on you coming around more often, though. Think you can do that, angel?” He says, an undertone you can’t quite discern in his voice that makes your mouth go dry.

“Y-yeah. I mean, I plan to get more tattoos. If you do a good job, I mean.” You respond, nearly choking on your words because of that damned pet name he keeps calling you.

“Mmm, trust me, I’ll do you right.” He says and this time the undertone in his voice is so painfully clear that you feel yourself clenching around nothing, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. You decide not to respond, scared your voice will come out shakier than intended.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The next few hours go by in the same fashion. Small talk with him lacing in subtle compliments or flirtations. That goddamned pet name falling from his perfect lips. By the end, you were sure he’d feel the way your body was pulsing with need for him, all thoughts of Ryōmen out the fucking window.

“All done, angel. Tell me how you feel about it. If it’s good, and it looks damn good, I’ll put on some second skin and cash you out.” He says, standing up from his chair and stretching. Your eyes don’t miss his v line peeking out from his lifted shirt and you have to tear them away to instead look at your tattoo.

“Fuck, it’s perfect. God, yeah, I love it! Lemme just take a picture so I can post it and piss this asshole off before you wrap it.” You say and he chuckles.

“Mind if I take a few, too?” He asks.

Before you even realize what you’re saying, you respond, “What? For your spank bank?” By the end of the question, your eyes go wide and you mentally curse yourself out, about to apologize when he gives you a genuine laugh.

“No, angel, I won’t need a picture to remember an ass like that.” He quips back and you almost lose your breath. Without missing a beat, he picks up his phone and motions for you to take your picture before he takes his.

Once you do, you open your Lightroom app as he moves to take his pictures. It opens to a nude you’d put a filter on and you suck in a sharp breath, trying to exit quickly before he notices to no avail. He whistles and sucks his teeth and you immediately start to explain. “Sorry, I just like aesthe—“ He cuts you off.

“He’s definitely missing a few brain cells. You’re as good as it fuckin’ gets, angel.” He says, making your heart clench and stomach knot. “Y’know…” He leans forward. “There’s another way you can make him upset. I’m sure that picture’ll do the job, but don’t you wanna go above and beyond? I can help with that.” He says. You don’t miss his hand coming down to rest on the apple of your ass, making your core throb.

“I— how?” You ask, surprised your voice made it’s way out at all with how dry your mouth and throat are.

“Atta girl. First, you can let me bury my face between those pretty thighs of yours so you can take a picture, if you can even hold your phone steady, that is. Then, if you can think straight enough to still be thinking about him, I’ll make sure you can only think about how good I feel inside you. Maybe I’ll even record so you can send that, too. How’s that sound, angel?” He asks, thumb gently brushing the skin of your ass, voice smooth and sultry. You’re sure that with his voice alone, he could run a cult of people who’d do his bidding with no questions asked. And you’d be in it.

You nod at his suggestion, biting your lower lip and looking up at him through your lashes. He chuckles and leans forward, face inches from yours. “I don’t speak nod, pretty girl. Y’r gonna have to tell me out loud.” He says, his hand moving from your ass to grip your chin firmly enough to keep you looking up at him.

God, that statement alone makes your stomach do flips and, yet again, you’re breathless. “Yes, please yes.” You manage to get out, squeezing your thighs to try to alleviate the pressure between them.

“Good girl, using your manners.” He purrs before his lips mash against yours, earning a choked moan from you instantly. He tastes of cigarettes and mint, a flavor you find yourself more addicted to by the second. You feel his tongue flick against yours for just a moment before he pulls away and chuckles. “Been wanting to do that since you walked in. Been wanting to taste you, more, though.” He says, so you move to lay on your back, but he stops you. “Mm mm, don’t fuck my work up. All fours, angel. All fours.” He says, the command emphasized by him patting his hand on your thigh twice.

Doing as told, you rest your stomach against the cold leather and prop your ass up for him, your hands holding onto either sides of the chair. Your embarrassment at the knowledge that your thong is most definitely soaked is washed away when you turn your head to look back at Geto, seeing a prominent bulge straining against his jeans.

His large, ring-adorned fingers splay across your ass cheeks as he squeezes them, grunting. “Such a pretty ass.” He hisses, moving one hand to thumb at where he knows your hole is beneath your thong, pressing in just slightly to tease you, making you mewl out. “Shh, sweetheart. Unless y’want everyone outside to hear you, hmm?” He warns and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to shut yourself up.

His fingers curl around the waistband of your thongs and he slowly peels them from your sopping wet pussy, leaving them down by your knees. The cold air hits your core and your eyelids flutter closed as you try to stop yourself from shuddering. “So fuckin’ pretty. You this wet already, angel? All for me?” He asks, chuckling as he slips a finger between your folds, teasing you as he soaks his it in your syrupy slick.

“Mmph, yes… fuck…” You moan out, feeling the pad of his finger press against your clit, rubbing in small teasing circles. Your eyes open and you look back to see him palming himself over his jeans. Your brows knit together in a needy frown and you pout. “Suguru, please!” You whine, needing more from him.

“Please what, angel? Please taste you? Please fuck you? Please finger you? Gotta tell me what y’want.” He murmurs and the look on his face tells you he loves this. Loves playing with you like a toy. To your surprise, you love it, too. He smirks at you and circles your achingly empty hole when you take too long to answer. “Hmm?” He hums.

You try to push back on his fingers, hungry for more, but he withdraws them, instead sucking your slick from his fingers, his eyes rolling back into his head at the taste. “Oh fuck, w-want all of tha— hnngh!” You cry out when he plunges a thick, ringed finger into your waiting hole. He shushes you and clicks his tongue, reminding you to keep your voice down. Nodding in response, you press back into his finger.

“Greedy girl. You’re gonna regret that later.” He says, beginning to pump his finger in and out of your cunt as he bends over and kisses all over one of your ass cheeks, then moves to get on his knees behind you. You can feel his breath on your slick folds and you want desperately to feel his tongue, your clit throbbing in need of attention. As though he reads your mind, he presses one quick kiss to it, grunting as your slick coats his lips. One swipe of his pierced tongue through your folds is all he needs to know he wants more. Much more.

You’re about to beg for it, too, but you feel his finger slip from your hole, being replaced by his long tongue, the muscle curving up and down and then swirling as if he’s trying to consume all of the slick you have to offer. Your fingers tighten on the chair, the leather squeaking in response. “Oh my God, S-Suguru!” You moan out, body shuddering in pleasure.

He pulls his tongue out to spit messily on your pussy, moving to finger you again, but this time adding two fingers. “M’gonna need to get you ready for me, ‘kay pretty girl?” He murmurs against your clit, earning a drawn out moan from you. You feel him remove his fingers and he replaces his lips with a harsh smack to your pussy that feels like pure electric pleasure. “Use your words.” He orders.

“Y-Yes! Fuck, yes…” You speak up immediately, eyes rolling back when he plunges his fingers back into you. You hear him hum in approval before his lips surround your clit again, sucking it into his mouth and caressing it with his tongue. He eats you out like a man starved and the sight combined with the pleasure makes your core tighten. His moans are muffled by you pushing back against his tongue. “S-Suguru, m’gonna—“

“Mm mm, baby, take that picture first. Gotta stay on task.” He tells you after breaking away from your clit to press sloppy open mouthed kisses on your thighs. You cry out a whine while your trembling fingers find your phone, lifting it to point it toward his mirror. You make sure to catch his face buried in your cunt when you snap the picture, making him grunt at the sound of the camera shutter. “That’s it, pretty, c’mon, cum… you can do that for me, right?” He coos and you feel him quicken his fingers inside you, the noises coming from your pussy absolutely fucking dirty as he does. His tongue starts flicking against your clit and the knot in your stomach snaps, your orgasm being clawed from you by this greedy man who pulls his fingers from your twitching hole to bury his tongue in it, lapping up your release.

You’re left panting when he finishes, eyes closed to stop the room from spinning around you. You feel his hands rub from the bottoms of your thighs up to your ass and he groans. “Fuck it, fuck the tattoo, need to see that pretty face while I’m inside you.” He grunts, flipping you around roughly and pulling your thongs off the rest of the way, tossing them to the side, making you yelp.

You open your eyes to watch as his deft fingers unbutton and unzip his pants, his other hand finding your mouth, pushing between your lips. “Taste.” He tells you and you suck the slick off his fingers happily as he pulls his cock out, your eyes widening at the sight. Suguru’s long and thick. Your expression is obvious to him and he winks, pulling his fingers from your lipstick ruined lips to grab you by the chin. “You can take it, right? You’re a big girl.” He taunts you by running his length between your folds, his tip nudging your clit deliciously.

“F-Fuck I… I can take it.” You say, lying, but knowing he’ll make you take it. Thanks to your orgasm, his tip is coated in your slick and he presses it against your entrance, making you wince. His free hand grabs one of yours and he intertwines his fingers with your smaller ones, pinning your hand above your head while he kisses you hungrily, tasting of you. At the same time, his tip slowly pushes past the first ring of muscles inside of you, a shaky moan coming from your lips and flowing into his mouth.

He grunts as he invades your cunt inch by torturously thick inch until he bottoms out, your legs shaking in response. He moves to kiss your neck before bringing his lips to your ear. “That’s my fucking girl, so goddamn tight. Gonna fuck you so good angel, be good f’me, okay?” He whispers in your ear before he sucks on your earlobe, withdrawing his cock to the tip before his hips snap forward in one sharp movement, making your mouth fall open in a silent cry.

He sets an unforgiving pace, his free hand holding one of your thighs up so he gets in at a better angle, his tip bullying your sweet spot with each thrust. Good was a fucking understatement, he was making you see stars. “Please don’t stop, ohmyfuckinggodddd!” You moan out, your bodies connecting violently, plap, plap, plaps echoing through his room.

His movements are so hungry, like he’ll never get enough of you as he moans at the feeling of your cunt trying to suck his soul from him. You feel him pull his fingers from yours and he stands straight, not letting up on his thrusts. You notice your phone now in his hand and the video capture sound plays, your face reddening. You can’t stop the way your pussy flutters knowing he’s recording now and he doesn’t miss it. “Such a slutty fuckin’ pussy, fuck! You like being on camera, don’t you, angel?” He asks, and you hide your face, nodding. That earns you one harsh thrust before he stills. “Mm mm, what’d I say about nodding. Thought y’were gonna be a good girl f’me?” He asks, making you whimper.

“Fuck, y-yes I like being on camera! Please keep going, please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop!” You beg, snaking a hand down to try and relieve the feeling between your legs by rubbing your clit, but he smacks your hand away with the one that was holding your thigh before resuming his punishing pace.

“There you go, pretty, there you fuckin’ go. God, that ex is a fuckin’ lunatic, you’re SO. FUCKIN’. TIGHT.” He praises you, the last three words being delivered with snaps of his hips that push his cock so impossibly deep inside you that you were sure he’d rupture an organ. “Loo— ngh look, pretty girl. Look at me bulging you out like this.” He instructs, his hand moving to point at the spot below your navel that juts out every time his length is fully sheathed inside you.

You look down to see and your head immediately falls back at the sight, eyes rolling back, back arching off the seat. He rewards you by moving his hand back down to your clit, using the whole of his fingers to play with it in harsh motions back and forth and back and forth. “Mmm’fuck! Sugu, gonna cum, gonna c-cum!” You warn him, no longer giving a flying fuck if anyone hears you, you were too fucked out to think about it at all.

“Right behind you, angel. Where d’you want it, hmm?” He asks, earning a look of confusion on your dazed, fucked out face. “My cum. Where. Do. You. Want it?” He asks, accentuating the words with thrusts.

“H-hah! In-Inside! Please fucking cum in me, I’m cumming!” You moan, arms flying up to grip the head of the seat as your cunt clamps down onto his cock, loud squelches sounding out as you squirt all over him, making him groan and throw your phone on his counter, not bothering to end the video.

“Fuckin’ hell, m’gonna fill you up so good, shit!” He hisses, leaning forward and propping himself up on body fists, rolling his hips into you sloppily as his orgasm hits him and he shoots cum spurt after spurt into your greedy pussy that continues to spasm and milk him for everything he’s got. You notice strands of his hair have come free of his half bun and they tickle your face as he hovers above you, sweat beading on his forehead. “Fuuuck…” He groans, pulling out after a while of being buried inside you. It leaves you feeling painfully empty.

He watches as his cum starts to spill from your swollen cunt with a smirk, moving to finger it back inside of you, making you whine. He chuckles and grabs your thongs, bringing your legs back together so he can slide them back on you, patting your pussy when he’s done. “So you have something to remember me by on your way home. Actually… you trust me?” He asks and you’re too far into your mind to say anything but yes.

Before you know it, you hear him wash his hands and put on gloves before his tattoo gun buzzes to life. “M’gonna mark you so you don’t forget how deep I get. That okay, angel?” He asks and you almost nod until you remember his earlier commands.

“Mhm…” You hum out, earning a smile from him as he bends forward between your spread legs, tattooing a thick line under your navel with the initials ‘G.S.’ Next to it. You shake your head, still too blissed out to even realize that you traded your ex boyfriend’s name for a stranger’s initials. He wipes it clean and puts second skin on it, too, before he stands straight.

“Think you can stand well enough to get dressed?” He asks and you scoff, rolling your eyes. You stand from the chair, wobbly and definitely sore, but capable enough to put your fishnets, shorts, and Doc Martens back on. He marvels at you while you do so. Once you’re done, he grabs your phone and ends the video, going to your contacts and adding his number. He hands you your phone back with a grin.

You take it and follow him when he opens his studio door, suddenly feeling all of the eyes in the shop on you. You recognize a face there, now. Utahime’s standing, mouth agape, with Shoko and some white-haired drunk guy who’s also staring at you two with his piercing blue eyes. You find yourself hiding a bit more behind Geto as you walk to the cash register.

“Ring her up for seventy-five percent off. She already paid for the rest.” He tells Shoko as he winks at you. With that, he starts to walk away, but not before he turns to you one last time. “Remember, angel. We’re friends, now.” He smirks before heading back into his room, leaving you to pay.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The next morning, you wake up hungover. You’re wearing your favorite Kuromi pajamas— a crop top and booty shorts. You walk into the bathroom, scrolling on your phone and starting to brush your teeth when you see a text to Ryōmen with three attachments. A picture of Geto eating you out, the video of him fucking you, and lastly… the new tattoo. You look at yourself in the mirror to see the line with his initials and your memory becomes clearer as you look at yourself in disbelief. “What… the fuck?”

#geto suguru #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen geto #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru smut #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #suguru x reader #suguru geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk smut #jjk fic #jjk geto #jjk x reader

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starlightguh · 2 months ago

Text

The Sharpest Tongue

Word count: 2,822

Summary: What if the stone Sylus won hadn't been the right one to send him and MC home to Linkon? As MC struggles to learn the local language, she finds herself the subject of the other warriors in the clan. Too bad it seems like Sylus has the sharper tongue amongst them all.

Tags: Cunnilingus, Grasslands AU, Jealous!Sylus

A/N: This is a bit shorter than I had planned, but I wanted to write something for the grasslands AU and saw someone mention we needed more jealousy grassland stories, so here you go! 100% transparency, I could not find anything on Talanian language, so I used Mongolian words, I'm not familiar with the language so if there are mistakes, I apologize!! I hope you enjoy nonetheless. Find this fic on Ao3 as well!

The Khan had given Sylus the bright red stone for his victory in the battle against the best warriors in the clan. My worries weren’t for nothing as there wasn’t any trace of meta flux emanating from it. No matter how hard either of us tried, we couldn’t resonate with it.

So we were stuck in the grasslands.

For someone who should have been happy due to our victory, both me and Sylus held somber faces around the celebratory fires and festivities. I could feel his red eyes staring at my downcast face as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

“We’ll just keep searching kitten…As long as we’re together we can keep looking for a way to return home.”

I inhaled deeply and nodded silently as I turned to look at him, his expression was really soft and full of apology. I wanted to go home badly. But…Sylus had a point, wallowing won’t do anything. We’ll just make a plan to find a way back to Linkon.

I steeled myself by fixing my slouched posture and closing my eyes to take deep breaths. After a few moments I opened my eyes and smiled at Sylus, “Well I guess now is the time to embrace the nomad lifestyle…Until we find our way back home that is.”

Sylus stands, my eyes lingering on his distracting buff physique as he holds out his hand.

“Let’s not weep and try to make the most of our time together, hm? Shavanika.”

His baritone voice stirs an excitement in my belly as I take his hand and he begins to twirl me to the rhythm of the festive music the villagers are playing by the campfire. I feel the beads in my hair slap my cheeks as I spin around the orange hues of the warm flames near me. For a brief while as me and Sylus danced around the flames, my anxieties had drifted away. I was grateful to have him by my side and ease my worries.

My bare feet feel unsteady as I haphazardly try to follow the rhythm of an unfamiliar tune, but the warm and strong arms of the silver-haired warrior in front of me hold me steady. I smile and laugh at Sylus’ serious expression as we dance and lose ourselves to a night full of joy.

—————————

After the festival, we packed up and moved to travel alongside the rest of the villagers. Me and Sylus agreed we would adapt to our surroundings of the people around us as we tried to find any clues about a way home.

I was not the fastest learner, but I did get a few things down, the women taught me duties I was expected to help with, from herding livestock, sewing, cooking, and laundry, I was slowly earning my place amongst the others. However, I was struggling with learning the language. I could pick up a few words here and there, but I couldn’t really understand or communicate as properly as I would like.

Then there was Sylus, he was a polyglot so picking up the language wasn’t difficult for him. He must have been fluent only after a solid two weeks of study. I was envious, but also grateful since I relied on his help a lot to learn and understand.

The warriors happily accepted Sylus, he easily fit in and would help them with hunts for resources as well as military strategies and ideas. The Khan favored him a lot and Tara told me whispers of them wanting to promote Sylus to a general title.

While we hadn’t been traveling with our clan for more than a month, we easily slipped into our roles quickly. And now it seems we quickly have found ourselves involved in more politics than we would like.

It was like any other day, I was riding my cream-colored stallion through the grassy fields trying to get the flock of sheep on the right path. I called out the different sounds and commands I was taught while keeping a stead-fast pace on horseback.

My hunter's instincts kicked in as I noticed one sheep was away from the herd, and upon further investigation, it was being hunted by a hungry coyote.

“Shit,” I hissed to myself and acted quickly as I grabbed a rope from my satchel. As the coyote pounced, I lassoed it and used my strength to pull him away from the sheep.

I was heaving and sweaty as I just lifted the clueless sheep back to the herd. As I was getting back on my horse, I heard some whistles call out to me. I glanced around and noticed a group of four warriors walking up and cooing at me.

I didn’t really recognize them, I only knew they were of the same clan since their chest guards had the same color ropes that Sylus wore. The men spoke to me in Talanian, but I could only pick out words like ‘strong’ and ‘brave.’

“I uh…am not familiar with the language yet, chlaarai .”

They seemed to just smile as one made a comment to the group in Talanian, they laughed and just waved goodbye toward me as they rode off.

I didn’t think much of this encounter until the next day.

We had set up camps deep in the Northern Grasslands, orange was taking over the skies as the dawn broke. I was hanging clothes I had just washed in the river on a clothesline outside one of the elder's yurts.

Behind me I heard the sharp tongue of Talanian, I glanced and noted those same big warriors from the other day were talking. I had paid them no mind as I did my duties.

Suddenly I heard the sharp thuds of angry footsteps behind me and a strong pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist. I glanced up and saw a very pissed-off Sylus glaring off in the direction of the four other men.

He yelled at them in Talanian and growled when the other men responded in what I could only assume was a taunt. Sylus let go of my waist and marched up to one of the men and grabbed him by his leathers. People started to gather to watch the rowdy commotion.

I turned and saw Tarna and sighed in relief since she could explain what was going on, “Hey, Tarna….What exactly is happening?” I asked her urgently as it sounded like the men were raising their voices.

“Well…It seems the Khan’s second son Gansu said something about your er….” She paused and looked shy when translating what was said, “birthing hips, and how he wanted you as a wife to bear his children.”

I stood frozen as it all clicked into place. I looked over at Sylus who was still arguing with them, a scowl marred on his face.

“Sylus came in and said they shouldn’t speak about you that way that you were his beloved. Gansu told him that it didn’t matter to him unless you two were wedded or you were pregnant.”

“Seriously?!? If he’s the son of a Khan he can marry whoever he wants. Why would he want me?”

Tarna shook her head at me, “That’s why Sylus is arguing, he says that you are with him and will never have anyone else’s children.”

The arrogant Gansu held a smirk as he practically hissed at Sylus, a dark expression glazed over Sylus’ face. I’ve only ever caught glimpses of Sylus angry, but never this murderous.

“What did he say?” I asked Tarna, my voice full of worry. I could feel the icy chill of Sylus’ anger even from a distance.

“Gansu just said ‘well whoever takes it keeps it’ as a threat… I think you should go over and stop Sylus, if he gets in a fight with the Khan’s son they could severely punish him,” Tarna warned me.

I nodded and without a second thought, I ran up behind Sylus and gently placed my hand on his lower back. His tense body seemed to ease up a bit at my touch as I tried my hardest to speak in Talanian.

“ Amarkhan bai….S-Shavanika …” Fight not, beloved . These were the only words I could best make out with my limited knowledge.

Silently he grabbed my hand and glared down Gansu as he turned to walk away with me. I felt his grip on my hand tighten as Gansu and his men still taunted behind us. We began walking off towards our yurt and it wasn’t until we were a safe distance away I had to whimper to Sylus.

“Your grip is too tight it hurts,” I cried.

He seemed to snap out of his trance and he softened his grip and rubbed his large thumb soothingly across my hand, “Sorry sweetie… I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

“I don’t exactly know what was said, but Tarna translated some of what you guys were saying. I didn’t realize the Khan’s son and his friends saw me herding sheep yesterday.”

“The Talanian language is very harsh, most of the words are very direct. The disgusting words from the Khan’s second son really got under my skin is all… Why didn’t you tell me you ran into him yesterday?”

“I didn’t think it was important… Also, I hardly saw you yesterday,” I sigh, “You came back to our tent pretty late… Are you sure you weren’t up practicing Talanian with the other village girls?” I hiss a bit. While the Khan’s son may be chasing my skirts, I can’t ignore the fact that all the girls of the village have been trying their hardest to catch Sylus’ eye.

Sylus stopped in his tracks and growled he turned to me and looked down with a sharp gaze, “How many times do I need to express to you I’m not interested in the other village girls?”

I match his glare and put my hands on my hips, “And how many times do I have to tell you I can handle myself, the Khan’s son doesn’t scare me. I’ll just refuse him.”

Sylus tsked his lips and leaned down to lift me up on his shoulder.

“Hey! Put me down!”

“No. It seems like I need to practice Talanian with the only village girl who matters to me,” he says sharply. He gives my butt a playful smack as I’m hoisted over his shoulder, my face in the direction of his backside.

I smack his butt back and he just chuckles, “You’re not getting out of this one Shavanika, so simmer down kitten.”

When he strutted into our tiny little yurt and set me down, his red eyes shined with a mixture of excitement and mischief. His hand remained on my waist as he spoke in a low and seductive tone.

My back arched at the feeling of his hands trailing down my waist and gathering my skirts up in his large rough palms. He set his other palm in the dip on my hip as he stared at me with almost an appraising look in his eye. “Let’s start with the lesson…What did that man call these?”

His left dominant hand was under my skirt caressing my thigh, I let out a shaky breath as I closed my eyes and tried to remember the foreign words spoken earlier.

“T-Toro? Kha-?” I sputtered out as his palm found its way to one of my bare-asscheeks. He squeezed it and tsked his lips as he brought his face closer to mine and he spoke lowly.

“Torkah Khongo,” the purr in his voice did nothing but further my arousal. I was being engulfed by the dominant energy Sylus was putting out. It didn’t take very much for me to become putty in his strong hands.

His other hand reached under my skirt as well and without further notice, the lengthy skirt that usually met my ankles were now scrunched up at my waist. Underwear wasn’t a common thing within the tribe, so I had been forced to forgo that luxury and be commando under my lengthy traditional clothing. I think for a situation such as a lustful Sylus, it was beneficial to be as naked as possible.

“Do you know what the translation is?” He quirked a brow.

“B-Birthing Hips?”

“Mhmm,” there was a slight growl to his response, “he said that you had the birthing hips to bear him many sons.” Sylus gripped my hips in a tightening grip. “Too bad for him these hips are miniikh.”

Sylus dropped to his knees in a squat as his mouth bit a part of my inner thigh, his hands rubbing the bare skin before him. “Do you know the translation?”

His mouth placed hot and wet kisses in my inner thigh, teasing me by being so close to where I actually wanted his mouth. I gasped out an answer as he was torturing me with kisses, “M-Mine?”

“Good girl, seems like you do know more than I thought,” he whispers breathlessly, “Let me reward you.”

He then licked my dripping slit, I let out a whimper in surprise.

“Tell me, who do these hips belong to?” He asked as he pulled away from licking my heat.

“Y-You.”

He smacked my thigh at my answer, “Ah-Ah-Ah, in Talanian sweetie.”

“ Ta,” I moaned out as he suckled on my sensitive pearl.

With a pop of his lips, he pulled away and smirked, “Hmm that’s a good answer, but I have a better one. Repeat after me: Nökhör .”

The pronunciation of the word feels strange as I try my best to repeat it, “noct-core?”

Sylus just shakes his head and repeats it slower for me, when I finally pronounce it right he rewards me by entering one of his fingers into my dripping center.

“Keep saying it sweetie, practice makes perfect,” he chuckles and his mouth finds my center again as he slowly devours me.

With his finger slowly pumping me and his greedy tongue flickering on my sensitive folds, my voice is nothing but a loud and needy whine of this new word he’s taught me and I haven’t a clue what it means. All I know is Sylus likes it as he happily groans into my dripping cunt.

“Louder. I want the whole tribe to hear you scream it, so everyone knows we belong to each other and no one else,” his lower face is dripping in my essence and his red eyes have a bit of a manic and desperate look as I look down on him.

“Sylus….” I lose my mind as he now has three fingers in me and the mouth of a sinner as he loudly slurps at my folds with his sharp tongue.

Ecstasy and euphoria wash over me as I come on his face with that new and unfamiliar word on my tongue. My knees shake and nearly give out, but Sylus stands and lifts me up so my legs are wrapped around his middle.

I lean my head forward as I pant into his ear, “What’s the translation of that word.”

He laughs as he rubs my back while I come down from my high, “Why, it’s my future title…It means ‘husband.’”

“Sylus! How bold of you to assume!”

He frowned at this and glared at me, “I'm not assuming anything, but unless you want to be the wife of the Khan’s son, then you must be mine…I can’t protect you from the leaders otherwise.”

I blush, “I-It’s just so embarrassing….I never thought about marriage.”

He smirks a bit, “Well I'm glad I can change your mind, at least while we’re here. Linkon has a very different culture from the grasslands, and we can talk about a proper marriage when we return home. Deal?”

“Fine but you’re not knocking me up while I'm here,” I huff at him as he lays me down on our pelts and strips off the rest of his clothes.

“I make no promises, but I’ll do my best. You’re just too tempting, Shavanika.”

“Only for you my Nökhör.”

That night Sylus made me scream so loud that the Khan’s son did nothing but glare daggers as Sylus confidently walked through the village the next day I, on the other hand, was forced to stay in bed due to my wobbly knees. When I finally returned to my duties after a day's rest, the other girls just giggled as they saw me.

Tarna translated a message for me that the elders are happy for whatever blessings me and Sylus marriage may bring, but to keep it to ourselves at night. I was horrified and embarrassed, while Sylus walked around as the proud warrior both in the grasslands and in the bedroom.

The strongest warrior and the sharpest tongue will always come out on top I suppose.

~fin~

Translation guide:

Shavanika - Beloved

Chlaarai - Sorry

Amarkhan bai - Fight not

Torkah Khongo - Birthing Hips

Miniikh - Mine

Ta - You

Nökhör - Husband

#love and deepspace #lads smut #love and deepspace sylus #lads fanfic #lads x reader #sylus x reader #sylus #sylus fanfic #sylus x mc #sylus smut #grasslands Sylus #jealous sylus

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jjenthusee · 4 months ago

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Late Night Talks

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: I’ve wanted angst, so this happened. Here’s another angsty drabble I’ve also written, if you’re interested. Comment your thoughts if you’re comfortable <3, I wanna know if this made you feel as empty as it did to me T-T (Link to pt.2 here)

Tags: Angst, hurt/no comfort, JASON SAY SOMETHING ANYTHING

Word Count: 2.2k

“Do you remember how we met?” You took another drink, the taste of alcohol invading your mouth.

“Hm.” Jason hummed, a glass of water in front of him, domino mask plopped next to it.

“I laugh every time I think of it.” You chuckled. “You smacked me pretty hard that day.”

Jason groaned as you giggled at your words. Your drunk self reminiscing on old memories, memories you didn’t dare think about sober.

“Don’t remind me, I was delirious from blood loss.” Jason winced at the memory. “Not my best moment.”

“Fair enough, it wasn’t very smart of me to approach a masked man bleeding onto the street.” You smiled, feeling the alcohol warm you. “So much has changed since then.” You swirled your glass, watching the liquid spin.

You held up your glass cup, watching the droplets fall down the sides. You hadn’t realized you drank so much that you had spilled some of your drink on the coffee table, your hand accidentally wiping it. The liquid surrounding your glass.

Jason grabbed a napkin to wipe underneath your drink. Grabbing your hand to wipe your fingers after.

You hands felt hot. You grabbed your cold cup to empty out the rest, not letting your mind wander too long on the contact.

“Look at us now, we’re sitting against my couch as I finish this bottle.” You lift the nearly empty wine bottle as you refilled your glass, focusing on trying not to get a drop over the edge this time. “You don’t have a mask on and we’re friends! No hitting too!”

Jason laid his head against the cushions as he watched you take another long drink.

He had stopped by unexpectedly. Seeking the comfort of someone else, so he dropped in by your window. He crawled in, making his footsteps loud enough to alert you that he was visiting you, but he found you, next to your couch, tipsy.

He rarely saw you drink. He hadn’t seen you at all the last couple of weeks.

Something must have been bothering you to bring out a bottle, half empty when he showed up. He was too afraid to ask what brought out this rare occasion, he already wasn’t around enough to know, so if you wanted to drink to forget, then he would stay quiet.

So Jason stayed, sitting on the floor with you, leaning against your couch. Barely fitting in the space between your couch and the coffee table. He listened to you ramble about anything that came to your mind. Dessert shops you wanted to try, a new shirt you saw at the store, the outrageous grocery prices.

He asked if you had eaten before you started drinking, bringing you a cup of water.

You were in a talkative mood, answering every question he asked.

“What did you eat?” Jason gently asked.

“Leftover pizza.”You cheerfully answered, making a triangle with your fingers to add to your point.

“Did you drink water today?”

“No.” You quietly said, quickly putting your hands down, pouting as you refused to look at him.

Cute. Jason thought.

“How was work?”

You eyes brightened.

“I have to tell you about this one lady that came in today, I wanted to shove my pen down her throat for how much attitude she gave me—“

As you talked, he made sure you were taking care of yourself. He didn’t want to see you dragging too much in the morning, but he also wouldn’t mind seeing your bed head as you rummaged through the fridge for a quick meal and a water.

“Actually, I lied earlier. I’ve haven’t changed. At all.” You stilled. The drunk, cheerful atmosphere suddenly getting serious.

The shift in your voice capturing Jason’s attention as he lifted his head to stare at you fully.

“I don’t think so.” He reassured you. Curious about your sudden self-conscious attitude.

Your eyebrows lower, clearly bothered by what Jason said.

“You don’t see it because you only see one version of me.” You stated, talking to Jason like that was a certain fact. “You don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“I don’t believe that.” Jason remarked, amused at your drunken talk. He’s never heard you so pouty, but also talking back to him with more spite.

“No, no,” You waved a finger in his face. Too close to his face, but the alcohol blurred your hand-eye coordination. “I’m a completely different person when I’m not with you.”

Jason’s ears perking up at the sudden confession.

You glanced at Jason, waving your hands to prove your point, eyes half-lidded, a slight glossiness to them.

“I’m a major perfectionist. I don’t allow myself to make mistakes. I try to calculate every little wrong move I could possibly make and find ways to handle each and every one.”

You took another sip. Jason sat up straighter, your sudden honesty causing him to look at you, really look at you. To dial into your expression, the subtle movements influenced from the alcohol and your eyes. You looked more relaxed, but sadness melted into your tone, into your body language.

“I had to be the best, to know the most, to constantly keep myself busy.” You looked off to the window behind Jason’s head. Losing yourself to your inner thoughts.

Jason waited, not wanting to interrupt. His intuition telling him that this was important, a rare vulnerable moment from you.

“You were the first person to see me completely ruined. I made so many mistakes in front of you. You made fun of my fuck ups and I was so shocked when you called me an ‘airhead.’” You loudly laughed, trying to cover up your somber feelings.

“I’ve never heard that in my life!” Your eyes crinkled from the wide smile on your face. “I was so angry at you, I thought, ‘Who’s this asshole!?’ But, despite all the teasing, I’ve never felt so relieved. I didn’t have to keep up an appearance with you. You accepted the bad version of me.”

You lazily leaned your head on the couch, the side of your face feeling the fabric. Facing Jason as you laid on your side. Jason followed after you, laying his head down too. He kept some distance between your faces, but his hand laid close to yours. He wouldn’t touch you, but he would keep his hand close.

Your face had frowned. Jason lazily smiled at your pouty look returning, wondering what you were going to say next..

“It felt suffocating when you left.” You confessed.

Jason’s eyes widened, smile disappearing.

“I was alone, trying to keep up my fake image.” Your voice got quiet. Suddenly aware of the heaviness of your words.

Jason faltered. The rawness of your voice catching him off guard.

“I missed you when you left me alone. I couldn’t handle this apartment. I was suffocating without you here.” Your eyes watered, your throat aching.

Your voice wobbled, but you mustered any self-control to blink the tears away.

Jason stared at you, his brain not fully comprehending watching your eyes water.

He had never seen you cry. So he was at a loss, speechless as his mouth opened to comfort you, but nothing came out.

You took a deep breath, gaining back control of yourself.

“But you came back. You’re here.” You closed your eyes, voice steadier, but foolishly believing that tears won’t fall if you don’t open your eyes.

Jason’s hand inched closer to yours. Cautiously about to touch your fingers.

“But it hurts. It hurts so much.” You weakly said.

His hand faltered, never reaching yours.

“I want so much. Too much.”

Jason’s hands clenched

“I didn’t know what was happening to me. I smiled every time you came into my thoughts.” Your tears building at the corners of your eyes. “I wondered if you smiled like I did. If I’m ever on your mind—”

“Don’t.” Jason interrupted, watching a lone tear fall from your eye, dropping onto the couch.

“I worry about you, your vigilante stuff, if you were hurting. That I wasn’t there.”

“Stop. Please.” Jason pressed his eyes shut, somehow thinking it would stop him from hearing your voice. So he wouldn’t have to look at the tears.

“But—but, I know better. I know you’re not mine. I can’t reach for you.” You slurred, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

You opened your eyes, tears still falling to the side of your face. You watched Jason, he was tense, eyes closed and his eyebrows pushed together.

“I can’t ask you to stop being Red Hood. I could never ask that of you.” You sniffed, softly whispering to him, afraid someone might over hear your well kept secrets. “I’ve dreamed of how happy you could be, but I know you wouldn’t trade your happiness for the cost of leaving other people alone, other people that you want to save. I can’t breathe knowing that I would be responsible for all your guilt. That I would selfishly keep you away from something greater.”

Jason’s expression weakened. His eyebrows relaxing, his frown not as prominent at your tender words.

“But I scared myself. I would be selfish.” You continued. “I would let you be mad at me for the rest of your life, for asking something so awful.”

Jason’s eyes opened, a sickening sad tenderness in his gaze.

“I would never be mad at you.” He whispered back, voice hoarse.

You couldn’t take it. You pressed your face into the cushion, trying to let as much of the tears disappear into the fabric. You stayed there for a moment before you looked back at Jason, your eyelashes covered in tears, the tip of your nose pink from the emotions.

“I believe that being next to you is the right thing for me,” You hesitated, “But I don’t think you want to be next to me.”

Jason winced. A prick in his chest at your words.

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t want you to tell me—it will ruin me.” You spoke through the fresh tears.

You lifted your hand from the bottom of the couch, reaching out to Jason’s face. He didn’t move away from you like he always did, he was so still, you thought maybe this was another fabrication you dreamed, but when your fingers landed on his cheek, it was soft. You flinched from him like you were touching a hot burner.

With increasing confidence that he might not pull away, you laid your fingers back on his face, softly tracing the edges of his scars. You were past your limit, but if this was possibly the last night that Jason came by after running your mouth, then you wanted at least this—this last goodbye, this last moment of Jason to yourself.

Jason didn’t say anything. He stayed still while you touched him, hands clenched, watching your eyes, your lips tremble, the lines of tears left on your face.

You took your time to memorize his features. To look at Jason. You wished he got mad at you, rejected your hand touching him, rejected your words, but he didn’t. He could’ve left whenever he wanted, not listening to your drunk self, but he was still laying here, facing you.

“I would have let you ruin me.” You whispered, so soft that you barely heard yourself.

You let go of Jason, clenching onto the couch cushion below your head. You closed your eyes, tired from the emotions, tired from the alcohol, tired from the thoughts of waking up tomorrow to everything you did.

Jason rubbed his cheek, where you touched him.

He stared at your vulnerable state, watching a single tear cling to your lashes.

He reached forward, ready to wipe your eyes, but he stopped. Hearing your quiet whimper as you turned your face to bury your head in your arms on the couch.

His hand dropped.

You tried to get yourself under control, but the tears wouldn’t stop. You sniffled, trying anything to steady the trembling and the uncontrollable breathing. A couple of deep breaths later, you lifted your head, feeling ready to apologize for everything that happened in your drunken state.

“Jay, I’m sor—“

He was gone.

The space he sat in was empty. No droop in the cushion where he leaned into.

You stilled, tears pausing, mindlessly staring, wondering if you had made up everything that happened.

You reached at the cushion, feeling at the threads, warmth still lingering.

You were calm. Too calm.

You glanced at the coffee table. No domino mask, but his glass was still there, completely full.

He left. He really left.

You curled into the couch, your sobbing muffled into the cushions. Grabbing the edges as you yelled at yourself.

“You idiot.” You pulled at your hair, crushing your hands into the cushions. “I fucked up—I really fucked up.” You threw a pillow, anger overtaking you.

“I can’t do anything right!” You cried into your hands.

Finally letting yourself release the cries you’ve been pushing down.

The high from the anger died out quickly, your shoulders drooping. Your sobs drowning into quiet muffles. You legs aching from sitting on the floor, your eyes hurting from too many tears.

You quieted down.

Your hands falling from your face to your lap, emptily looking at the crevices of your hands.

“This is the one mistake I should’ve kept hidden from you.” You trembled, speaking into the emptiness of your living room.

Jason sat outside your window, out of sight as he listened.

#jason todd x reader #writing #jason todd

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chlorinecake · 5 months ago

Note

Imagine slow but rough sex with Jungwon cause he found out that you were not being yourself.

"Baby's not feeling well, hm?

"yeah, fuck everyone. But, I can fuck you up harder"

"Insecure? Baby, you got a pussy that can make any man pray"

"Cry over my cock instead, yeah?"

Fuck Now, Talk Later | Y.JW

▹ PAIRING : soft dom! bf! jungwon x subby! gf!reader

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ SUMMARY : Just Jungwon fucking your tears away with a bit of rough COMFORT SEX because you’re too pretty to cry over anything other than his cock.

▹ CONTAINS : ⚠︎ swearing, kissing, praise kink, pet names (angel, kitty, good girl), unprotected sex (cowgirl variations), mild dacryphilia, mentions of insecurities, reference to cigar use

▹ WORD COUNT : 2.2k — special tags for my fellow won-girlies @candewlsy and @theothernads ⋆.˚

Your eyebrows that were once screwed into little bows of frustration atop your face had finally popped, a stream of tears spilling over your cheeks as you ran straight to your bedroom, where you sobbed your sorrows into the sheets…

It wasn’t long before your boyfriend Jungwon realized you had got back home from hanging with your friends already, though…

Standing up from his reading nook in the living room, he went off in search for you, following the hushed sounds of your cries all the way to the bedroom.

And there you were… curled up into a tight ball of sadness as you sniffled beneath the sole comfort of your zip-down hoodie, hiding your face from him.

“Aww,” your boyfriend started gently, walking over to sit beside you on the mattress… “What’s the matter, hm?… Baby's not feeling too well?…”

You felt his hand caress the dip in your waist now as you laid down, but it only made you tense up, feeling worse for burdening him.

“N-no, Wonie… I just hate crying like this… especially in front of you…,” you managed to say, trying to give him a hint that you wanted to be alone for a few moments, but he persisted anyways.

“You never have to hide your emotions from me, love…” Jungwon encouraged, briefly breathing against your cheek before kissing the skin there, “It’s important that I see these parts of you, too, y’know?…”

You had been dating Jungwon for a little less than a year now, and one relationship goal that has always been the same for him was prioritizing your comfort.

He wanted you to be okay with sharing all types of intimacy… not just the parts that involved sex.

Naturally though, your boyfriend was never really an emotional person, and yet he strived to become better in that aspect because of you… because he knew there’d be a time where you needed that emotional comfort from him more than anything—

“Please, ____,” Jungwon’s voice sounded from behind you, “just tell me what’s wrong, baby…”

You sighed at his pleading before answering, not meeting his eyes only for him to scan your face anyways, admiring how lovely your teary eyes looked in this moment.

“I don’t know, Wonie… I guess I’ve just… I haven’t been feeling like myself, lately…”

“Ahh… so you’re telling me my pretty girl has got herself all worked up over insecurities again?”

“Well- it’s not just that… s-someone said that I’ve changed for the worse…”

It was earlier while you were hanging out with your friends…

One of the girls there, who you remembered as your former smoking buddy, had some pretty nasty things to say about you once she found out you had been trying to quit using.

“Yeah, you might’ve quit the pen, but all those lingering nerves are making you eat yourself to death, now… just look at your legs… they’ve gotten so big since the last time we spoke…”

Sighing at the memory, you sat up on the bed now, looking back at Jungwon’s stoic expression that spoke a thousand words for itself as he went on to ask:

“Are you seriously gonna let those empty words get you upset like this?…”

His hand was on your thigh, distracting you from answering at first until you decided to simply shake your head at his question, feeling the tears erupt within you all over again.

“I’m sorry, Jungwon,” you croaked with a squeaky voice, feeling yourself hiccup a bit from sniffling so hard, “I’m so sorry for being this way…”

For being your dysfunctional, basket-case of a girlfriend, you wanted to add, but the words got caught in the anxious web of your own mind, a spider feeling as though it’d just crawled down your throat as you continued bullying yourself in your head.

Jungwon had never seen you so sad before, and the way you just leaned into him while sobbing into the crook of his neck made his heart sink and swell at the same time.

The moisture from your face peppered his shoulders as he gently caressed your back, cooing within the sullen air.

“Don’t apologize when you did nothing wrong, ____,” he demanded with a whisper, pulling away from the hug to look in your face, “you understand me?”

You nodded again, making him smile softly as he kissed away the tears trailing your left cheek, his free, sweater-gloved hand wiping the other side.

“I just wanna feel better, already… regardless of what other people think of me,” you say as the end of his sleeve kept patting at your tears.

“And you will,” Jungwon went on, tilting his head at you with a thumb running over your lower lip. “Fuck those people and their opinions, ____…” he said, kissing you on the corner of your lips but only going in for more once you hummed in approval.

But of course, the tears came back, and you’re not sure why, but they wouldn’t stop.

“It’s okay, angel… let it all out,” Jungwon whispered against your lips, but you turned your head, letting your back find the mattress and covering your face.

“I … I can’t, Wonie… I hate feeling like such a crybaby over the smallest of things,” you sniffled, vision blurring with the amount of tears spilling over the edge of your lash bed now.

“Move your hands, love… I don’t like it when you hide your face from me…”

You look so gorgeous when you cry, your boyfriend wanted to add, but decided not to let his dirty thoughts thrive in this moment…

He opted to lay down beside you instead, joining your flat posture on the mattress before trailing a hand from the top of your knee and up to the point where the skirt you wore was hiked up over your hips now.

And yes, you weakly tried to swat his hands away, but he persisted, pulling your skirt back over your curves before hooking his first finger at the hem of your black, lace panties.

“You can always cry over my cock instead,” he whispered in a low voice now, his offer drawing you back to the present and out of your thoughts as the feeling of his hand inching closer to your core made your thighs tense up.

“W-Wonie~” your breath hitched, his fingers feeling cold against your warm skin as you failed to meet his lustful gaze.

“No no no, look at me… tell me how you want me to help you feel better, yea?”

With the last bit of willpower you had, you let your puffy eyes flicker up to meet his face, shuddering as you felt your panties slip lower and lower from their original position.

“I don’t really know what to say, Jungwon,” your voice came out below a whisper, your anxious thighs squeezing together as if it’d help hide the expanse of flesh from his eyes.

But his eyes weren’t looking there, anyways, being more concerned with the expression on your face than anything.

“Want me to help fuck all those tears away, kitty?... Is that what my pretty baby needs?”

And just like that, you felt it… the fiery rush in your stomach letting you know that it was only a matter of time before he had you bouncing on top of him, begging for more…

But as much as your body wanted to say yes, your mind was still making you feel insecure, especially as your panties were completely gone at this point, your hesitant body still trying to ease into his touch as he sat you in his lap.

Jungwon let his hands caress over the bow you tied around your thighs as your weight sunk into the straddle… your beautiful, soft, and perfect thighs…

Your hands found his shoulders for leverage, right as he kissed the center of your lips, humming at the way you clung to him now.

Your nose was still a bit stuffy from crying so much, so the kiss ended up being a lot sloppier than usual which only helped to turn you on even more.

“Such a good girl,” Jungwon muttered breathlessly as you suddenly broke from the contact, watching as you got to work on freeing his cock from the confines of his pants.

Climbing back over him, you simply hovered over his length, kissing him one more time on the lips before sliding him into you, tensing up a bit at the sensation.

“Mmm,” you hummed, feeling his hands push your thighs down just to help speed things up a bit.

And it didn’t take long for you to start moving once he was fully inside you, those pretty feline eyes of his becoming heavy at the relief his cock found in your pussy.

Letting his back fall against the bed, Jungwon kept his hands at your waist as you continued bouncing on his cock, a red hue blushing to your cheeks now as he started playing with your boobs.

“You’re taking me so well today, baby,” your boyfriend whispered in a low voice while squeezing the flesh of your tits in his hand, “always look so pretty while bouncing on my cock…”

You whimpered slightly at the painful feeling coupled with his dirty words, clenching around his member as the pace of your hips grew faster with your need.

“W-wonie~” you began to say, holding onto his wrists as his hands stayed cupped around your breasts.

“What is it, baby?” He asked in an almost cloyingly sweet tone, taking one of his free hands and pinching your cheek to make you blush even more.

“W-want you to fuck me, Wonie… p-please,” you whine in between feeling his thumb find the inside of your mouth, playing with your tongue as you finally meet his eyes again.

“You gotta be more specific, kitty,” he says, catching on to the way you visibly sulk at his words, “how does my pretty girl want to be fucked?”

As frustrated as you were starting to feel with his teasing, you couldn’t help but keep bouncing in his lap, practically drooling over the way his tip felt sliding against all the best parts inside you.

“Need you to be rough with me, Wonie,” you manage to say breathlessly, eyes tearing up now at the rollercoaster of emotions, “need you so bad—”

“Shhh… I’ve got you, baby,” Jungwon cooed, moving his thumb from your mouth and swiping the moisture from your eyes, “gonna help you feel so much better…”

You felt his touch guide you against his stomach now, your face resting in the crook of his shoulder as he held you against him with his strength, thrusting himself inside you.

And you almost couldn’t believe that he was starting off so fast, gripping a handful of your hair as tiny grunts fell from his lips, your eyes pricking with moisture as he kept pounding into you.

“God, p-please… go harder,” you whined out weakly, only to moan as his grip on your hair tightened, a string of curses falling from his mouth as his hips snapped into you even faster.

“Let me see those pretty tears of yours again, baby… let me know how good I’m making you feel…”

The sound of skin against skin would be impossible for anyone outside to ignore at this point, especially with the way you kept whining for him...

“Feels so good, Wonie,” you cried out, feeling the band in your stomach tighten as your climax treaded closer and closer to spilling over the edge, “need you to make me cum so badly…”

“Already?” Your boyfriend asked with a slight chuckle to his tone, even though he knew he wasn’t gonna last very much longer himself, “my pretty girl is always so needy for my cock, isn’t she?”

“Y-yes, yes,” your voice came out in erotic moans as your pussy throbbed with a burning need.

Only a few more seconds had passed before you were squirming on top of him, his hands having to hold you down given how much your body trembled.

“Nghh,” Jungwon’s voice followed right after, just as the feeling of his release coating your walls became obvious to you, a string of mumbled praise slipping from his mouth.

And all you could do was whimper at your boyfriend’s words, both of your hips riding out their highs as his lips found your face, kissing away the tears there as you melted into his touch.

Eventually, he let his dick slip out of the comfort of your warm hole, caressing your back as you returned a kiss to his lips, missing the closeness already…

“Feel any better?” Jungwon asked, a faint smile creeping upon his delicate features as you adored the sight of him in your own heart.

“Thanks to you, yes,” is the last thing you remembered saying in that moment, your tingly legs still straddling his lap as fell back into his embrace, grateful to have a boyfriend as perfect as him…

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Thanks to everyone who read this quick little fic! If you're interested, feel free to check out my enhypen bookshelf for more works like this !!

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @watamotee33 @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr @sussyjake

#𝐜𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐞’𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 🎂#enhypen #enhypen ff #jungwon smut #enhypen smut #yang jungwon #jungwon ff #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon hard hours #jungwon x reader #jungwon imagines #enha smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen x reader #jungwon fluff #jungwon angst

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soft-girl-musings · 10 months ago

Text

Salt & Pepper

Moon Knight System x GN!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: rated T for teasing, domestic fluff, author does not condone touching people's hair without permission, no use of Y/N

wc: 1,078

fic summary: Marc, are you familiar with the term "silver fox"?

A/N: i might have a problem lol

_____________________

“Put. It. Down.”

Marc Spector does not startle easily. So when he nearly falls from his perch beside the bathtub, you’re surprised you have to steady him.

“Jesus, where’s the fire?” Marc picks up the towel and small cardboard box he’d dropped because of your outburst.

Shifting your focus, you zero in on the latter: hair dye, just as you’d suspected.

“So this is what you get up to when I’m away?” You tut, cradling his temples and shaking your head. "What happened to you?"

"What? Nothing, I'm-"

"-I wasn't talking to you," you sigh, resting your forehead against the crown of his head. "How long has he been treating you like this, you poor things?"

“Ha-ha.”

You release his face to study it. "But seriously, how long have you been dying your hair?”

“... For a couple of years. Started to turn gray from stress a while back, and I guess it never stopped.” He fidgets with the loose edge of the container.. “You really never noticed?”

You take the box and set it beside him. “You hid it well.”

You’re not judging him for dying his hair, it’s just… surprising. Marc’s never been one to fuss over his appearance, as far as you could tell. When you first saw his closet, you’d half expected it to be lined with the same outfit ten times, like in a cartoon. Most days, “dressing up” means adding a jacket or blazer.

“Since when do you care? About your hair, I mean.”

He shrugs. “I’m not gettin’ any younger, honey.”

“Neither am I.” You kiss the bridge of his nose. “You got a problem with that?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Goes double for me, don’t you forget it.” Leaning in, Marc tries for another kiss, but you duck and grab the hair dye before turning away with a mischievous smirk.

“Gotta keep you honest,” you wink and dart out of the room before he can catch you.

_____________________

"Love?"

"Hm?"

"Might fall out if you keep playing with it like that.”

You’d been standing behind Steven for the past couple of minutes, meaning to check in on his preparations for his morning tour but had gotten distracted. Very distracted.

“Sorry,” you sigh, your fingers leaving the wisps of hair at the nape of his neck and trailing down to his shoulder. “It’s just… hm.”

Your conversation with Marc must have taken root: over the past few weeks, you’ve noticed the hair that had been dangerously close to another round of boxed dye abuse steadily turning lighter. A subtle blend of silver strands mix with the darker curls that frame his face, making his hair shine a bit brighter in the light of the desk lamp.

“It’s like starlight,” you finally state, leaning in to rest your head against his.

Steven sputters and puts his book aside. “Starli- that’s a bit much, yeah?” His brow furrows, but there’s no denying the smile tugging at his lips.

“Not if it’s true,” you contend. You adjust the reading glasses that had slid down his face and tuck a stray curl behind his ear. “It’s a good look on you.”

There’s no denying the heat rising to his cheeks when you talk. “This– you don’t–” Steven caves and sets his book down, hopelessly flustered. “Either go away or get over here. Cheeky.”

He makes room for you to settle into his lap, which you giddily accept. Your hands sink back into his curls and he shivers as you scratch his scalp.

“Did I ever tell you I had a thing for my professor, once upon a time?”

“Oh my days–”

You’re not sure who kisses who, but you’re certainly not complaining. Neither is he.

_____________________

The time apart has been agony.

You check your phone for the fifth time this evening. They’ve been gone for what feels like months (it’s been weeks) handling some business in California, of all places. Marc said he’d call when they were on their way home, meaning no news is sad news.

You’re pulled from your pity party by a knock on the door. It’s late, and you’ve already signed for your dinner delivery. Slowly, you get up and grab the bat you keep by the entrance (with a sock slipped over the end per Jake’s advice).

The knocking continues, getting more urgent. You take a deep breath and look through the peephole. A large brown eye stares back and you yelp, dropping your bat. The unmistakable boom of Jake’s belly laughter mocks you from behind the door.

“You’re hilarious,” you groan, standing the bat back on its head and unlocking the door.

You’re ready to lay into him when you open the door, but you’re stunned into silence. Jake’s smile is highlighted by silvery stubble, dusted with black. He adjusts his cap as his dark eyebrows raise in mock surprise.

“What, no hello?”

You tear your eyes away from his jaw. “Hm? Oh. Hi.” You open the door wider for him to step in. “Marc said you’d call first.”

“No fun in that, is there? Besides, you looked ready to handle some trouble.” he shrugs off his coat as you lock the door behind him.

“Trouble, yes. Nuisance, debatable.” You sidle up to him and drape your arms around his waist. You place a kiss on his cheek; it’d be impossible for him to not notice how you let yours drag along the rough line of his jaw.

“I missed you too,” he laughs again. “But man, is it warm in here…”

He tosses his cap and it takes everything in him to not lose it when your eyes widen at the sight of his hair, now more gray than black and curls longer than you’ve seen them before. You’re too enraptured to be embarrassed at your obvious loss for words.

“Your hair…” You reach up to touch it, but Jake grabs your wrist.

“Tsk, tsk, you threaten and barely say a word to me, then go straight for the goods without so much as a ‘please’? What happened to decorum, hm?”

“You fucking tease,” you huff. “...please?”

“Well, since you asked nicely–” Jake can barely finish his thought before your lips are on his, your hand tangled in his starlit hair as soon as he lets go.

“I take it we should cancel Marc’s haircut?” he murmurs as you catch your breath.

Your free hand grazes the scruff on his cheek and you grin. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

_____________________

A/N: marvel you cowards give us gray-haired moon knight

ty for reading <3

event tags:@moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro @queerponcho (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

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vangelini · 5 months ago

Text

Boyfriend For The Night (Part 2) | Spencer Reid x Reader

Part 1, Finale!

Summary: After a few too many drinks, Spencer takes you back to your place, and you say something you might regret when you sober up…

Tags: fluff, more pining idiots, BAU!Reader, Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Words: 2.3k (whoopsie)

“Reid is my boyfriend, for the night,” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink. It was, supposedly, just for the night, but Spencer liked the sound of that.

And, admittedly, so did you.

“Just for the night?” Morgan laughed, his bright, white smile teasing you two.

“Well, we’ll see how he does and go from there,” you joked. Reid couldn’t help but laugh a little at your comment.

“Well, I intend to impress,” he rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand, laughing under his breath while looking down at you. Penelope hit Morgan on the shoulder, drawing his attention toward Reid’s little look of love. He just laughed, turning back to his conversation with Hotch.

“Those two are so screwed.”

The night went on as one usually does. Some of the team split off into different games, dancing, or their own little conversations. You and Spencer were of the latter group.

“I can’t explain WHY The Princess Bride is my favorite movie, it just is!” You feigned defensiveness, leaning into the seat behind you, laughing. “Why don’t your profile it out of me,” you smiled at Spencer. He laughed, taking a drink of his club soda.

“Fine,” he set his drink down, turning to you. “I think…” he leaned down, leveling his eyes with yours, glancing between both of your irises. “I think it’s probably because, ever since you were a child, you’ve been escaping with fantasy,” he sat up. “It would be safest to assume you identify with Buttercup, that you long for someone close to you to come sweep you off your feet and solve all your problems,” he narrowed his eyes. You looked gently up at him. “But,” he sighed, leaning back. “Knowing you, I’d say you like Westley,” he smiled. “You grew up less wealthy and have worked your whole life to protect the people you love. It’s a movie that makes you believe there’s hope in the world,” he took a long sip of his drink.

Your jaw hung open in shock. “When did you learn so much about The Princess Bride,” you smiled, leaning your head on your hand.

“Garcia made me watch it,” he shrugged, laughing.

“Okay, fine…” You took a sip of your drink, head spinning a little. “So what’s your favorite movie, then, hm?”

He didn’t hesitate before responding, like he had clearly been wanting to talk about it. “L’age D’or,” he spoke with his hands. “It’s a-a seminal surrealist film that was actually co-written by Salvador Dali,” he smiled wide. “It used Dali’s classic absurd style and shocking imagery to critique the bourgeoisie and the Catholic Church. It, uh, was so controversial, actually, that it led to riots and bans,” he continued on about vignettes and taboos, but you just stared at him with a smile, eyes glazed over with pure adoration. Some time after he went on about Luis Buñuel’s other works, you realized you were absolutely whipped for this nerd.

You must have been off in la-la-land, because Reid got a little closer to you to get your attention. “Are you okay?” You snapped up.

“What, yeah, I’m good,” you smiled, smoothing down your slacks. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you smiled nervously, standing up a little too quickly. You stumbled a little, causing Reid to reach out and steady you with his hands. Morgan noticed.

“Hey, Pretty Girl, how many of those have you had?” He gestured to your glass.

“Probably too many,” you smiled half heartedly, realizing you were likely a little more than tipsy. You also started to notice how tightly Spencer’s hands steadied you. “It’s getting late, anyways, I’ll go call a cab,” you started to reach for your phone, but Spencer stepped in.

“Hey, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Pretty Boy is right,” Morgan added. “Someone should take you home.”

“Guys, Im an adult, I don’t need a babysitter,” you laughed, speech slightly slurred. Yeah, you were definitely drunk.

“It’s fine, I can take her home,” Spencer gave a tight-lipped smile to Morgan. He turned to you, ignoring Morgan’s small, concerned smirk. “It’s not safe to go home alone while inebriated,” he took his hands off of you, and you noticed how he flexed them a little. Interesting. You would have to analyze that in the morning, maybe when you weren’t so intoxicated. He pulled his crossbody bag over himself and grabbed your hand, leading you from the booth. “I’m still your boyfriend, for the night,” he smiled.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“Okay, okay, whatever, pretty boy,” your hand tightened around his. The nickname felt different, coming from your lips, he thought. Somehow, it seemed like less of a nickname and more of an observation. He shook it off. “I don’t live far from here, we can walk,” you spoke as you both stepped out of the bar, the biting cold air hitting your skin. You wrapped your arms around Spencer’s, his biceps wrapped up nicely by his cotton sweater. You smiled, and, you couldn’t see it, but so did he.

“Sounds good,” he barely squeaked out, just content to be settling into your touch.

The walk was peaceful, passing by a river or a park, street lights illuminating the sidewalk. They cast a warm glow on the night, shining in Spencer’s eyes, glimmering as he glanced down at you stumbling by his side. The breeze was slightly shielded by Spencer’s towering figure. He relished the feeling of your grip, a sense of security he didn’t know he craved. And, for a moment, it really did feel like you two were a couple.

He helped you up the steps to you apartment. “Such a gentleman,” you joked. He laughed lowly.

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t eat concrete, but if you’d rather I didn’t-”

“I’m kidding, i’m kidding~” you slurred out, pulling out your keys. It danced around the lock a few times, since your vision was blurred, but with some help from your temporary boyfriend, the door pushed open and you were met with the warmth of your apartment. You couldn’t help but sigh, throwing yourself down on the couch. Spencer locked the door behind the two of you, watching you kick off your shoes.

“You should take your contacts out before you fall asleep,” he put his bag down. “Sleeping with them in can increase your risk of infection up to eight times,” he more than scurried over to your kitchen, filling you up a glass of water.

“Speeence, that’s so much work,” you threw a throw blanket around your arms.

“I know, sweetheart, but I don’t want you coming in to work tomorrow with dry eyes and corneal damage,” he set the glass down on the coffee table, kneeling in front of you. You were so tired, you didn’t notice the nickname. He didn’t seem to, either. “Come on, you need to take them out,” he reached for your arm, taking a hold of your wrist. His voice was gentle, laced with a genuine concern, and his touch was reverent. As you looked down to where his sturdy hands held you, you realized, for a moment, how deeply you cared for him.

He knew alcohol made your inhibitions nonexistent, but he didn’t expect you to start crying. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong,” he grabbed the side of your face, wiping a tear off your cheek. His hands were just so soft, it made you tear up more.

“I-I don’t know,” you sobbed out. You really didn’t know.

“Hey, it’s okay, drink this,” he handed you the glass of water. As you took a sip, he moved his hands to your knees, soothing small circles into them. “Why are you sad?”

You sniffled, looking down at his face. His brows knitted together, eyes beaming up into your own. You could have SWORN you saw his heart beating against his sweater. “Because I love you being my boyfriend, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t,” you were a little embarrassed, but you were drunk, so it barely mattered.

Spencer’s heart rate spiked, and a rosy tint started rising in his face. “You don’t mean that,” he soothed, voice just above a whisper.

“I do,” you looked straight into his eyes. They were glazed over in something you couldn’t describe and probably never would.

“According to research, a-about 63% of people have admitted to saying something they regret while intoxicated,” he reasoned out, holding onto your hand.

“Another study found that 54% of those confessions are things they genuinely feel, Spence,” he realized you clearly weren’t out-of-it enough to not hit him with his own statistics. He couldn’t speak, and he really couldn’t think either. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes dancing around your face. His heart jumped up and down as an innocent desire swept through his veins.

Did you really mean that? Was he not the only one who stole small glances in the bullpen? Was he not alone in his heartbreak when watching someone else flirt with you? Surely, this was a symptom of the alcohol. Maybe-

“It’s so hot in here,” you broke the silence, breaking away from him. He swallowed hard, eyes moving hesitantly away from your face.

“I’ll uh, I’ll change your thermostat,” he stood up, moving towards the hall.

“Thank you, Spence,” you lied down, sniffling once more.

He gave up on having you take out your contacts or change your clothes. He just spread another blanket over you, shutting off the lights. He even took the liberty of setting your alarm. Before he left, he heard you mumble a small, “Good night, Spence.”

He smiled, sighing.

“Good night.”

—

“Hey, Pretty Girl, didn’t have too much fun last night, did you?” Morgan laughed. He couldn’t see you rolling your eyes under the sunglasses that shielded you from another migraine.

“Ha-ha,” you set your stuff down. “That’s me laughing at your funny joke.”

“Honestly, I’m shocked you didn’t show up with Boy Genius, this morning,” he crossed his arms. “Leaving together from the bar, going back to your place-“

“Derek, nothing happened,” you huffed. At least, you THOUGHT nothing happened. The events of the last twelve hours were an honest blur.

“Okay, okay, I yield,” he threw up his hands, going back to his own work. You turned to see Spencer walking in at about the same time.

He had replayed your words in his mind about a thousand times, maybe more. Did you really mean it when you said you loved having him as your boyfriend? Maybe you said that to every guy who took you home drunk. He thought going through all the possibilities would make it easier to face you, in the morning. He proved himself wrong.

You pulled off your glasses, standing up. As he sat down at his desk, you leaned over it.

“I wanted to say thank you for last night,” you spoke softly, not out of secret, but out of vulnerability.

“It’s no trouble,” he smiled. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he looked up at you, moving some files around his desk.

“I really, really appreciate it,” you spoke apologetically. “I wasn’t too much… trouble, was I?” You smiled nervously. “When i’m inebriated, my inhibitions tend to…” you trailed off, trying to find the words.

“Disappear?” He smiled, laughing a little.

“Yeah…”

“You weren’t any trouble,” he reassured you, voice steady. “Actually, it was,” he smiled. “It was nice.”

“Nice?” you laughed, feeling your headache melt away at his soft voice.

“Being able to take care of you,” he defended playfully. “I don’t usually get to do that; it’s usually the other way around,” he tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, looking up at your soft smile. “There was something I wanted to talk about, though…” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Crap, did I do something weird last night? I’m so sorry, if I did, I never-“

“No, no, nothing like that,” he laughed nervously. “You uhm…” he grabbed the back of his neck. He wanted to know if you really felt the same way he did. He wanted to know if you would hold his hand like that while sober. He wanted you. “Would you like to, maybe, get together sometime again?” He squeaked out, smiling shyly. “Maybe, this time, without the alcohol?” You smiled at his offer.

“I absolutely would, Spence,” you giggled out, tapping a nail habitually on the screen dividing your desks. He sighed a sigh of relief.

“Cool,” he pursed his lips together in a smile.

“Cool,” you mirrored him subconsciously.

Maybe it wasn’t just for the night.

(‼️💕THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REQUESTED PART TWO. REQUESTS ALWAYS OPEN💕‼️)

#x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you

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lady-lauren · 1 month ago

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❥ SUGURU GETO X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: captive reader, chains around hands and ankles, dub-con, definitely some stockholm syndrome, mentions of blood, praise, use of "good girl", creampie, suguru is dark but oh so soft for his little pet

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

You bite his tongue the first time he tries to kiss you. Suguru’s sure you like the taste of his blood in your mouth.

“I warned you,” he tuts with the most sickening smile, “your hands won’t be free until you let me kiss that pretty mouth whenever I please.”

You were supposed to be temporary. A darling little sorcerer with a jujutsu he only needed to take advantage of for one plan. Then he decided he likes the way you look in chains, your defiant and mesmeric body bound to his will.

It takes a few weeks to break you, to make you his pet.

He grinds you like a flower at the base of a mortar, crushes and plucks your petals. He earns a few scars along the way, from your teeth against his lips and sharp nails clawing at his skin. Merely battle wounds in a war he intends to win.

But you’re a smart thing, you learn that giving in can earn you so much more than recoiling at his touch.

You start cooing when he slots his lips against yours, running your tongue against his without a fight. You start to enjoy the taste of him without a coppery tang.

He rewards you by shackling your ankle next to his bed rather than the damp dojo basement.

“You promised…” you murmur with your hands cupped toward him, heavy chainlinks rattling as you peer up at him with a gorgeous mixture of hatred and affection in your eyes.

“ ‘Suppose I did, didn’t I?”

Suguru crouches to your level on the floor, keen eyes watching how you sit up straighter, back against his mattress and feet tucked under yourself. Every night he offers to let you curl in his sheets, yet you never take the bait. He supposes you know as well as he does that once he gets his hands on you, in you, you’ll be his for the taking.

“You’ll be a good girl, hm?” He’s so close he can hear your heart beating, a strangled drum in the depths of your chest. Blood pounding for him.

He wraps his big hands around your wrists, taking careful note of how your thumb searches for him, smoothing over his knuckles.

“And you’ll touch me when you’re free.” A simple command, yet chum in the water.

It takes a fraction of a second for the cursed tool shackles to clink and disappear from your wrists. Suguru eyes the lesions on your delicate flesh and steels himself for retaliation.

In spite of your simmering ire, you listen to him. Your fingers hesitantly reach for his face, skimming over skin before cupping his cheek.

A most sinister triumph coils in his stomach, making his cock twitch in anticipation.

He smiles at you fully, falsely, nudging his face into your palm. “Not so bad, am I?”

“I’d kill you if I could,” you lament so softly. How cute.

Leaning forward, he steals a kiss from your mouth, smirking as you let him. “Too bad you can’t, sweet girl.”

The long chain that dangles from your ankle hisses against the floor as he lifts you easily, plopping you onto his bed. You haven’t felt something so soft in weeks. If only you’d given in sooner.

He shrugs out of the shell of his yukata and his eyes are quick to notice how you watch his every move. You don’t even blink when he pumps his dick in his hand, the aching thing already leaking over his fingers. The pink of your tongue appears for only a flash, licking the corner of your lip like you’re hungry.

Perhaps you are, you’ve been touch starved since he purposely began to ignore you a few nights ago in an effort to shatter your resolve.

Your hands explore their freedom eagerly, tugging at his long hair like you want to hurt him and pull him closer all the same. He likes the way you tug on dark strands and moan into his mouth when he pins your body beneath his. Your fingers cling to the nape of his neck. There’s a slight desperation in the way you dig in, holding him tighter.

You still smell as sweet as you did the first day. He ensured you stayed clean, fed.

“I take care of my favorite pets,” he peels clothes from your body slowly, delighting in how you arch and preen for him like his poor little flower is finally feeling rain.

He kisses the abrasions on your wrists like he’s sorry. He’s not.

You practically purr for him when he gets his hands on your tits, thumbs rolling over your nipples. The fat fills his fingers perfectly as he squeezes.

“Use those hands of yours and slide your panties aside. Show me your cunt.”

You obey, running your hands down the length of his body until you drop them to your hips. Your nails curl under the soft edge of your panties, slow like you’re teasing him. He picked black lace for you because he won’t have you in anything but his favorite color.

Rough hands press your knees as wide as they will go. The spread is obscene, glints of slick already shimmering on your thighs. You pull the material to one side like he asked.

“Look at you, already swollen and messy.” Suguru dips his fingers to your pussy to feel it for himself. “I think I’ll keep you naked from now on.”

“Pervert.”

“Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Then what else would you like me to call you, hm?”

“I don’t know,” he pushes a thick finger into your heat, “Master has a good ring to it, don’t you think?”

“No.”

But you whine anyway when his knuckle bottoms out, finger curling against a soft spot. Your thighs twitch and you squirm, the chain on your ankle shaking.

He doesn’t spend long teasing you, you’ve had enough torture. He pumps in two fingers and spreads them in your tightness, marveling at how your sweet body pants and trembles.

Suguru wonders if anyone has played with you before him. Surely they have, you’re too pretty not to. Perhaps he’ll find out when he convinces you to suck his cock one day.

Pride overtakes him when he replaces his fingers with the tip of his cock and you beg.

“Please, yes.”

Suguru sits back on his knees and tugs you to him, driving forward until his thick cock slips all the way to the back of your cunt. He doesn’t let you settle, he fucks into you so quickly he can hear your chain bouncing against the floor.

He rolls your hips back to accommodate him, curling your knees to your chest so he can bully deep into your hole with ease.

“Oh, fuck, oh god. Right there.”

You’re more vocal than he expected, much to his satisfaction. He likes praise.

The suck and squelch of your pussy makes him dizzy, makes him lose himself for god knows how long as he forces his way into your most sensitive places. You coo for him over and over, fingers knotting into the black curtain of hair that envelops you.

Suguru repositions, taking your tethered leg into his hand, easily tugging it over his shoulder. The cursed chain now dangles close to his ear, slaps against his side as he continues to push into your cunt.

“Do you want this free?” He runs his hot tongue along your skin at the edge of the shackle. “Then you better tell me, ah, who owns your cunt.”

You eat his words for a few thrusts, tits bouncing heavier than before with breath.

He puts his palm to your tummy to make a point, pressing hard until you feel him in your guts. He keeps the pressure, grunting at the slide of his cock against the heel of his hand.

“Y-you do.”

“Do better.”

His thumb dips low and brushes your clit, making you mewl and hiss. That pretty head of yours shakes in defiance.

“Don’t you want to feel this good forever, sweet girl? Want me to fuck you every day?”

Oh he knows you do, can tell by the way your nails scrape against his thigh, strong little fingers pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper into your cunt. He obliges, canting his hips just right so his dick can slide farther into your gooey mess. Your pussy sucks him like she’s hungry, slurping around his thickness.

“Suguru Geto,” his ears perk at his name, nearly missing the soft sound as you’ve buried your face to his crumbled sheets, “Su-Suguru Geto owns me.”

He already considered you his property, but your admission swirls around him like a vice, grips his ego and strokes it.

You’re a semi-first grade sorcerer. He snatched you before you were able to obtain the full title. Not that it matters anymore, you’ll be his darling little curse user when he’s finished with you.

His thumb swirls over your puffy clit and you start to bubble over, “ ‘S good, so good, oh, Suguru, make me feel so good, please.” “Don’t stop, god, don’t stop.”

He could get used to the way you say his name. He’s not sure he’s heard you say it until now. He’ll make you scream it.

His fingers trail up the back of your thigh, gripping your ankle and in an instant the cursed chain disappears.

His teeth hurt from his smirk because you don’t even notice.

You’re too lost to bliss, hands pulling and clawing until he leans over your body, curling your leg with him. You can’t get enough of him, kissing his neck, sucking at his pulse point to smother your moans when he pinches your clit.

“Gonna let me cum in you?”

He will no matter what. He just wants to hear you say it.

“Mhhmm,” you nod your head, brushing your nose against his cheek until he gives in and kisses you, “Cum in me, please.”

“You sure?” He chides, sliding his arm behind your back so he can arch you, keep you pressed to him as he works his way inside of you. Your nipples get hard against his chest, sweat drips from his skin to yours. “Haven’t let you take your pills in weeks.”

“Don’t care. Don’t. Care.”

Now you’re getting needy, rolling your hips down, down, down into his, engulfing his cock until he’s balls deep with nowhere to go. Your nails rake across his back, blood welling to the surface of his skin.

Hm. Give a girl a little slack and she’ll hang herself with it, he supposes.

Suguru focuses attention to your clit, rubbing in such tight circles that your cunt starts to flutter. His cock throbs at the sensation, at the begging of your own body.

“Please, please,” you whine, brushing hair from his face as your eyes find his, “I’ve been good.”

“Yes you have, little pet.”

He watches how the name makes you hot, cheeks glistening from tears gathering at the edge of your lashes. How pretty, how sweet. You want to be kept, don’t you?

“Go on,” Suguru groans as he leans down to kiss you, making a mess of your mouth and stealing every ounce of your breath. He licks behind your teeth, shoves himself down your throat. And you let him. “Cum for me, go on.” His breath is hot against your sloppy lips.

Your thighs squeeze around his thick waist as you boil over, trapping his hips to yours and stilling him as you get rocked with pleasure. His hand is still pressed to your tummy; he feels every spasm under his palm, grits his teeth at the way you convulse around his cock.

The suction of you makes him lose his mind, finally releasing spurts of cum into your cunt.

He’s nothing but a bright spark, and you’re the center of his world now.

He fills you until you can’t take anymore, cum dripping from where your tight pussy grips his thick shaft. He throbs for you, like he’s the toy being squeezed and wrung for pleasure.

He lets you take his cum, lets you milk him dry as he pants into the column of your throat. Your ticking heartbeat is all he can focus on—on how your blood still pumps just for him, just because of him.

Some sickening desire to devour overtakes him, makes him latch his lips to your neck and suck until delicate blood vessels burst and bloom under your skin.

“Suguru,” your voice waivers between a whine and a scold, all high-pitched and fucked out.

“All mine.”

He laves his tongue over where he marked you.

After a few moments, you stir, finally realizing you’re free in the cage of his arms. You mumble some kind of thanks into his shoulder.

Suguru lifts his weight onto his arms, grinning at the mess he’s made between your legs before slowly dragging his cock. He relishes the gumminess of your walls as you still cling to him, like your body isn’t yet willing to let him go.

You gasp when the tip of his cock springs free, slapping against your swollen clit before he rolls onto his back.

He trails his fingers down your panting body, mind finally unfogging from the afterglow of sex.

He pulls your leg into his grip, fingers mean as he latches them around your newly freed flesh.

“Don’t,” you hiss like an alley cat, kicking your ankle from his hand so you can curl your thigh around his. You tug his leg between yours, squeezing like you’re trying to capture him instead.

You bury your face in his dark hair and breathe in deep, accepting the reality he’s built for you.

#kinktober #geto suguru smut #tw.dubcon #geto smut #tw.captivity #suguru geto x reader #suguru getou x reader #getou smut #suguru getou smut #geto x you #getou x you #suguru geto x you #getou x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk suguru #jjk smut #jjk x reader #dripping banner by @/adorenedwithlight

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castiwls · 11 days ago

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mothers day .ᐟ

Paring; coach!patrick x single mom!reader

Synopsis; your son wants to make mothers day special and who else better to drag into his plans then his tennis coach! the same tennis coach who really really want's to make a move properly this time.

Notes; I may start a tag list for this if I get enough interest? hm

Masterlist | coach!au masterlist

“Careful! That took us way too long for you to drop it at the finish line”

Noah grinned his grip tightening on the tray he was currently holding. He slowed his pace down, climbing the steps one at a time to not drop the food. Being woken up at 6 am on a Sunday was far from his ideal weekend but Noah had insisted that they make you breakfast before you could beat them to it.

“Grandma helped me last year but she's on holiday and I can’t use the stove…mom’ll get mad.” He’d pleaded doing his puppy dog eyes alongside it and Patrick had folded almost immediately. An hour and a half later they’d managed to make a decent meal of pancakes and bacon.

“Wait.” Noah paused by his bedroom door, eyebrows furrowing for a moment before looking at Patrick. “Can you get the present for me?” He smiled as Patrick rolled his eyes letting out a small huff. “Jesus kid it’s not even 9 am yet and you’ve had me working my ass off here.”

Noah grinned slightly sheepishly.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

You’d honestly forgotten about Mother's day. Sure your mom normally made sure Noah got you something but with your parents being away you’d just assumed that this year wouldn’t be a fuss.

The last thing you’d expected was to be woken up by your son at 7:30 with a full breakfast and a gift. Your son had practically been vibrating in excitement when he’d showed you his work.

“Happy Mother's Day!” He placed the tray down with surprising carefulness for a nine-year-old before jumping up next to you. “How did you do all this?” You wrapped an arm around him as he shuffled closer and your eyes narrowed slightly. The small smile which pulled at your lips softened the accusing look you’d sent him as he smiled innocently.

“Technically he didn't do it” Patrick hummed leaning casually against the door, the gift bag hanging loosely in his grasp. “I helped!’ Noah frowned.

“You threw flour everywhere.” Patrick raised an eyebrow as Noah flushed slightly. “I cleaned it up!” He argued. Patrick shook his head pushing off the door to sit at the edge of the bed. “You did. You did.”

You smiled watching the two quietly. Patrick staying around had become more and more common in the months since your sons birthday. It was more common than not at this point for him to show up and stay the weekend, something which Noah loved. Your son seemed happier than ever and loved having both you and Patrick around, even you’d found yourself enjoying his company.

You’d never admit that you liked waking up to him and Noah in the kitchen. It was nice to have another person other than your son around.

“You know you didn’t have to do anything.” You smiled. Noah shook his head with a stubborn pout. “It’s Mother's Day! You do stuff for my birthday!” He reasoned pushing the tray closer. Patrick smiled watching as your son chatted eagerly in your ear as you ate.

Quietly placing the bag down he stood slowly deciding to give you both some space but before he could reach the door his name was called. “Patrick, where are you going?” Both you and Noah had stooped to watch him.

You waited quietly for a response as he hovered in the doorway, his eyes glancing from the hall to you. “I was just gonna go clean up.”

A small frown pulled at your lips as your teeth gnawed on your lip for a moment. You didn’t want him to leave but you also understood that he might not want to be pulled into this any more than he had.

He was still only technically a friend and even friend was only used lightly. Sure he wasn’t as annoying as he’d been at first, he’d almost calmed down in a way. His once relatively childish pursuit of you seemed to have halted.

You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made some sort of sexual joke or made you want to smack the arrogant smirk right off his stupidly handsome face.

He was actually becoming a decent person and part of you hated to admit how much you liked this new version of him.

“No rush…unless you have anything else to do?” You were slightly hesitant as you spoke, your voice faltering almost as you left the offer open. You were leaving the ball in his court to see what he would do.

He could make an excuse now and spend his day alone…or he could take the opening.

And he really wanted to take your opening.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Didn’t you watch this las-”

“Shh. You’re missing it.”

Patrick scoffed shaking his head with an amused smile watching as you focused back on the screen again. Noah was happily tucked between you both, picking absentmindedly at the chocolates you’d opened only a few hours before.

You’d been given full control of the TV for the day and quickly chose a movie that Patrick was beginning to realise was a common staple in your home. He sighed quietly saying your name as his head rolled back against the headboard. “You watched this on Friday.”

“And I’ll continue to watch it.”

He opened his mouth, ready to make another comment before you cut him off. “Another word, and I'm cancelling the sports package.” Patrick's eyes widened, and his shoulders tensed for a moment. “You wouldn’t…”

Noah’s own eyes widened at your threat and for a moment you thought they were about to bug out of his head as you reached for your phone. “One click and it’s gone.” He shook his head looking back to Patrick with wide eyes.

A small smile pulled at his lips as he reached over to ruffle his hair. “Your mom’s just joking.” Patrick’s eyes met yours and you raised an eyebrow. “I think.” He murmured. You shrugged placing your phone back down. “Complain about my movie choices one more time and I won’t be.”

A look of relief crossed Noah’s face as he settled back into the pillows. The room fell quiet again, the sound of the TV filling the silence as the three of you went back to watching. You felt Noah shift ever closer, his head resting against your chest as he fiddled with the cover.

Patrick’s head tilted down slightly at the feeling of Noah shifting, the hand that wasn’t intertwined with the covers tugging on the side of his sweatpants in a silent request. He frowned for a moment before catching on to what the boy wanted when he tugged particularly hard.

Taking a breath he shifted slightly closer a small happy sound leaving Noah as he was now cushioned between you both. You paid no mind, simply watching the screen and missing the wide-eyed look Patrick sent you for a moment as your son all but demanded to be cuddled by you both.

This had to be crossing some sort of line…right?

He was already crossing a line the minute he’d taken your offer to join you both in your bed but now, now he knew he was pushing it. He half expected you to notice and push him from the bed for overstepping his boundaries but you didn't.

You didn’t say anything.

After a moment he managed to will himself to relax, shifting slightly for a moment as his arm rested awkwardly in his lap.

“Patrick, what's wrong?” You murmured looking over for a moment with a draw in your eyebrows. “Nothing. Nothing.” He shook his head settling down. You watched him shift his arm again so it didn’t press against the boy who now seemed fully enraptured by the movie.

You watched him struggle for a moment before finally taking sympathy for him and reaching over to move his arm to rest on the pillows behind you both. Patrick’s arm tenses for a moment before his fingers graze against your shoulders.

You both settle back, matching smiles pulling at your lips.

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

“Okay. He’s down.”

Patrick glanced up from the plate he’d been washing as you entered the kitchen. “Nine years old and still demands his mom puts him to bed huh?”

“He’s still young!” You smiled moving to place a stray cup away before shutting the cupboard. “In a few years, he isn’t gonna even wanna be living in the same house as me.”

Patrick chuckled placing a plate on the drying rack. “I find that hard to believe. I don’t remember making my mom pancakes on Mother’s Day at the age of nine.” A quiet hum left you as he turned grabbing a tea towel to dry his hands.

“I'm also pretty sure he was very clear that you shouldn’t be anywhere near the stove today?” He raised an eyebrow as you shrugged him off leaning against the counter. “Hey, I'm technically not near it.” You gestured across the kitchen. “You’re the one stood by it.”

Looking back he pursed his lips seeing you were correct. “Touche.” You watched as he placed the towel down before slowly approaching you. Your hip rested against the counter as he came to stand before you, his eyes trailing over your face for a moment.

His lips curled slightly as his eyes softened. “Your ex is possibly the stupidest guy alive, " he murmured after a moment. Your eyes narrowed briefly before a quiet laugh left your lips at his comment. “What?”

“He’s the stupidest guy alive for ever letting you go.”

Your breath caught for a moment as his words registered. He hummed quietly his hand reaching over to rub over your waist for a moment gently. “Well…his loss is someone else's gain.” You said, your voice was soft almost as if you were scared to talk too loud and break the moment.

The last time he’d touched you like this was minutes before you’d both ended up tangled in your sheets but this seemed different. Last time the only emotion you’d felt besides a slight disdain was lust. Now though? Now lust was the last thing on your mind.

“Patrick,” You sighed. “I can’t do another one-night stand. Noah needs stability an-”

“Hey. I’m not looking for another one-night stand.” He reassured. “If that's what I’d wanted I wouldn’t be standing in your kitchen five months after we already had one.” His thumb rubbed slow circles as his other hand hesitantly brushed a strand of your hair back before cupping your cheek.

“Just…let me prove it to you alright? Prove that I’m serious about this. About you and Noah.” You felt yourself leaning into his touch almost like two magnets finally being close enough to attract after months of teatheing on the edge.

“Patrick you don’t need to prove that.” His eyebrows furrowed as you spoke confusion flashing across his features for a moment. “You proved that to me the minute you woke up at 6 am this morning to help him make pancakes.” His eyes lit up almost as you laughed quietly.

“So…If I asked you out properly you won't hit me.” He grinned feeling on cloud nine as you rolled your eyes pretending to think for a moment.

“You get one chance.”

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illbegottenfaith · 18 days ago

Text

2001 - theo nott x reader

Honey, what you runnin' from? When you comin' back to bed? Toss and turnin' all night long with me instead Honey, what you runnin' from? Where the hell you headed to? Do you like the way I run after you?

or, theo doesn’t understand what’s holding you back from taking things further

a/n - I think I would classify this soft core smut at best? But adding an 18+ tag jic

tropes/warnings - 18+ MDNI, fluff

word count - 1.6k

“Fucking hell. Hide me.”

You shrunk yourself down the best that you could behind your best friend, Ivy, laser-focused on the boy at the other end of the hallway. Ivy rolled her eyes, making no effort to help.

“I can’t believe you still won’t tell me what happened that night. It can’t have been that bad.”

“It was,” you muttered, stupidly trying to get Ivy to cooperate. It was no easy task, especially on days like today when she was feeling particularly stubborn, which was a problem since the boy looked fully intent on approaching them.

“Will you relax? You look like an idiot. Like an even bigger idiot than usual. He probably doesn’t even remember whatever-“

“Ivy. Happy birthday. Sorry I couldn’t make it to the party.”

Damn. You thought you had more time. Curse him and his unfairly long legs. Ivy did the grown-up thing, which was literally anything other than pretending she didn’t see him. “It’s alright, Theo. You can make it up to me next year.”

“How was it?”

“It was nice, actually. We got a discount on -“

Ivy was cut off by a gentle tug, revealing a hunched-over you. You straightened hastily, clearing your throat, refusing to meet his gaze.

“L/N.”

“Nott.”

“Planning on dropping by tonight?”

You put on a straight face, looking politely confused. “Hm?”

“The party. Tonight.”

“Oh. Where?”

Theo narrowed his eyes, and your face burned under the intensity of his gaze. It took everything you had to keep your features schooled while he shamelessly searched your face for what felt like far too long.

“The Slytherin common room,” he replied, finally tearing his eyes away from you. You relaxed, blinking hard and a little breathless, your palms a little clammy. “Can’t miss it. Just follow the stench of firewhiskey and bad ideas.”

Internally, you nearly passed out. Externally, you shrugged noncommittally. “Sure. Maybe.” Definitely not. You weren’t going to spend a second longer in Theo’s presence if you could help it.

You and Ivy get to the party and, as expected, you’re abandoned the second she finds Ivan through the crowd. You wander around before you decide to join a group of Slytherins on the couches, next to Theo. You get handed a drink. It burns your throat and makes your eyes water. The loud bass starts to sound more tolerable. Another drink. Theo’s frowning at you. You wonder if anyone’s told him how good concern looks on his face. Everything is now ten times funnier. You press up against Theo, laughing yourself silly, leaning into his touch as he drapes an arm around you. Another drink. You’re more than lightly flushed. Theo places a hand on your thigh. You don’t move it away.

Eventually, you end up pressed against the door of Theo’s room, your mouths a heady mess of heat, teeth and tongues, your bodies moulding to each other’s. Your eyes flutter shut, blissfully able to let go with your senses dulled by alcohol. You can’t tell if it’s the music or your pulse vibrating through your body, but you’re aching for his touch. He presses a knee against your core and you groan into his mouth, melting into a boneless mush in his arms.

“Theodore,” you sighed desperately, breath catching in your throat. It was enough to slow his ministrations on your neck which had been filling your head with the most delicious kind of static. You never used his first name despite your best friends being glued by the lips since sixth year, mostly because you never went beyond exchanging civil pleasantries. Occasionally, you’d have a chat that wasn’t entirely unpleasant, or you’d let your thoughts wander to his disarming blue eyes or wicked smile, but that was it. It never did, and it never could, go any further than that. You were too different. It would never work. You’d only be setting yourself up for heartbreak. Nothing good could come of entangling with the illustrious Theodore Nott, figuratively or otherwise.

And to use his first name was to acknowledge the existence of this softer, kinder Theo - a version worlds away from that Nott boy with the aloof face and the piercing eyes. He hummed against your neck, thumbs restlessly skimming the waistband of your skirt.

“We can’t - we shouldn’t,” you continued, once you were able to make sense of your fuzzy thoughts. You pushed him back gently, cool air rushing in to douse the heat of the moment. “Our friends have a whole thing. We’d only get in the way. It’s just a bad idea.”

His hands stilled on your hips. “I don’t understand. What about our thing?”

He looked so dazed and so adorably dishevelled that you almost felt sorry for him. It was late, Theo’s words sounded dangerously close to slurring, and if you were being honest, you should have left the party hours ago. You stroked his cheek absentmindedly before gingerly slipping out of his hold, recovering your shirt. You slipped it on, fumbling at rhe buttons with trembling fingers, and turned back to see Theo still watching you, uncomprehending, his swollen lips parted in confusion.

“Get some sleep, Nott. You’ll get what I mean in the morning.”

“Bye, Theo,” Ivy was saying now. “Give Ivan a kiss for me.”

“Should I feel him up while I’m at it?”

“It only seems right to give him the full experience.”

Ivy grinned as he walked off while you all but dragged her down the hall towards your next class.

“Aw, come on, Y/N, he’s not that bad.” She glanced at you, eyes twinkling with mirth. “You know, I always thought he has a thing for y-“

“Aren’t you late for Herbology?”

Ivy cursed as she fumbled at her wristwatch, hurrying down the corridor. In about a minute, she’d realise that she didn’t have Herbology today, but you decided to let her find that out herself.

Hours later, you were holed up in the library, desperately trying to plug your ears with all the ruckus going on floors below. Trying to focus was a losing battle.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Your head snapped up too see Theo leaning against one of the bookshelves. Busted. To be fair, she was nowhere near the world’s best liar, so it was doubtful whether he had even believed her in the first place.

“Nott,” you greeted, in a pleasant enough voice. “Is that the time? I hadn’t realised the party had already started.”

The music continued blasting, more than audible to the two of them. Theo arched an eyebrow, slowly walking over, and you had the decency to look embarrassed over your bald-faced lie.

“I was planning to drop by later.”

“Well, you should.”

“Maybe I will:”

“It’s almost as fun as that last party ages ago.”

You stiffened at the memory. “Ah. Yes.”

Theo leaned over you, broad-shouldered and hypnotising. He dragged his gaze across you inch by agonising inch, undressing you with his eyes. You were starting to feel uncomfortably warm in your uniform. He dropped his voice.

“First and last time I see you in my bed, hmm?”

You choked, failing to suppress the shiver prickling over your skin. “That’s - stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Talking like…that.” You felt your face heat up all over again, cursing yourself for your inability to even pretend to keep your cool in front of him. “Looking at me like that.”

His gaze flickered to your chest, so brief you’d have missed it if you blinked. “Like what?”

You let out a frustrated, overwhelmed sigh, your brain becoming oddly fixated on the memory of his hands on your hips, travelling up your ribcage, at the nape of your neck, grip tightening on your waist -

“Go on. Use your words.”

His breath tickled the shell of your ear, the closest he’d been to you since that night.

“Like…like you actually want me. Like I’m something special.”

“You are something special.”

You groaned and looked away. “I’m seeing someone,” you tried, half-heartedly. Theo snorted.

“What, that Davies guy? Yeah, like that’s going to last.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel all that indignant on Davies’ behalf. Not that you were going to let Theo know that. “I’ll have you know that Mac is a perfect gentleman.”

“My point is-“ Theo started, irritatedly. You took a perverse sort of pleasure in ruffling his feathers. “- why the fuck are we talking about Davies when you could be in my bed, doing far more interesting things with that mouth?”

“Or maybe it’s something else entirely. Perhaps you like having me run after you. Is that where you get off, hmm? The thrill of the chase? Being a tease?”

“I am not a -“ you began hotly, before you caught the mischievous twinkle in his eye. You rolled your eyes. “You’re too cocky for your own good,” you muttered.

“I thought you like me cocky,” he teased. His expression softened the next second and you watched him trace lazy circles on your wrist.

“Besides…I’ve never tried this hard to get into someone’s pants.”

You gave a shaky laugh. Theo bent down once more, this time to press a kiss to your lips, then another, and another, until you were lying on your back on the table, looking sinfully ravished, blouse long forgotten.

One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott fluff #theo nott smut #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine #Spotify

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