#i don’t see how this benefits him
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#i have yet to post my thoughts on the daniel to AT news because i have some mixed feelings about it#first of all yes it sucks for de vries but also he truly was not good enough to be in that seat in the first place#that’s my opinion i’m sorry#plus i’m not saying it’s right but at this point if you’re signing a contract with the RB junior team you should know there’s a chance#your time gets cut short if you underperform#like let’s not all pretend like we didn’t see this coming since april#onto daniel…#this is not my preferred outcome okay#i think liam lawson deserves a shot in formula one and at this point i think he’s more than proved himself#i think iwasa is uber talented too but to my knowledge he doesn’t have the super license points. yet.#and i love daniel i do#but he’s 34 and has not been in his prime for a few years now#and they’re gonna throw him into the worst car on the grid for what? a bandaid solution?#what does this lead to next year?#like unless daniel starts putting the AT into the points every single race I don’t see this leading to the red bull seat#and there’s no way they let him drive in the red bull junior team for an entire year#like unless there were really absolutely no options that could have led to a 2024 seat in like the alfa or haas or something#i don’t see how this benefits him#okay rant over#on the other hand#yayyyy he’s backkkkkk#more maxiel content!#more dando content!#seb chilling in the RB garage!#brother is totally taking marko’s place when grandpa kicks it
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Halenthir scenario where they get married for tax benefits (in a platonic good friends sort of way) and fall in love long distance via sending each other letters with ideas on how to best leverage their marriage for tax evasion.
#Haleth has never paid taxes before moving to brethil#And is FUMING about the idea. So she sends a letter to Caranthir who mentioned something about *evading* taxes#In this setting I guess they part on good friendship terms#She visits him for a crash course in tax evading and they get drunk and someone mentions marriage giving you tax benefits#They wake up the next day and decide “you know what. Let’s actually get married for tax evasion purposes. It would be hilarious”#Up to you whether they get married in the elven way or just in the human way#Haleth fucks off back to brethil with a bunch of gifts from Caranthir like “bye bestie” and he’s like “👍. Bye bestie.”#And they strike up a proper correspondence#Because they’re married obviously#not because they’re having fun talking about loopholes in the tax code#That would be ridiculous. Obviously they are writing each other erotica.#All of Caranthir’s brothers find out because Caranthir ticks married on his tax return#Maglor voice: YOU GOT MARRIED? AND YOU DIDNT INVITE US?#Caranthir voice: It was pretty low-key. Now tell me. Did Fingolfin cry upon seeing how I leveraged my marriage for tax concessions.#Literally all his brothers: various sounds of sudden realisation this is a tax scheme#half of them don’t even believe haleth is a real person. She might have just been made up for tax reasons#Obviously this leads to a comedy of errors and classic finwean snooping#at one point Haleth hits one of Caranthir’s (half) cousins with a shovel for snooping#claims her name isn’t haleth (despite all her people calling her Haleth) and dares them to call her out on it#they can’t btw she is terrifying#silmarillion#the silmarillion#tolkien#caranthir#morifinwe#haleth of the haladin
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rewatching and i just think it’s interesting that owen lost his half-brother and tk will be getting his half-brother back in his life. wonder if that (alongside tk’s relived memories of his childhood) could come into play with jonah
#like owen losing robert so soon after getting him in his life. could see that influencing tk and jonah#like tk having the benefit of knowing about jonah and wanting to be in his life and owen being like don’t waste that time…#i think the crux of the owen/tk/enzo/jonah of it all will boil down to this idea of fatherhood#and how tk’s father figures influence his desires for a future#but the emphasis on brotherhood i feel like could come up too. esp since we open with owen grieving the brother(s) he couldn’t save#911ls#lone star spoilers#lone star speculation
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Loki unable to secure a marriage because of unworkable socialisation and awkward ulterior motives 🤝 Sigyn unable to secure a marriage because people keep slipping up and snitching on themselves
#Loki: we should communicate well before any commitments are made#Sigyn: *narrowing eyes in suspicion* you haven’t commit any crimes against humanity have you?#Loki: I don’t think so??#Sigyn: hm. continue talking.#I think people should see how demure and kind Sigyn is and start yapping away#reveal their horrid personalities and crimes they’ve committed#and Sigyn just sighs and grabs a hammer about it#Loki gets the unfortunate situation of people wanting to be permanent with benefits immediately#he wouldn’t mind so much if it wasn’t obvious their interest isn’t with him#and then after each failed fiancé Loki and Sigyn sit down over biscuits and talk about how sad their situations are
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Had a scary thought: so if scary completely cuts ties with Willy (which seems decently likely based off of last ep) Willy will no longer have a reason not to kill/get rid of the kiddads (as far as I’m aware) because he would no longer care about what scary wants or cares abt and that terrifies me!!
#dungeons and daddies#dndads#I’m scared for my boys lives#I’m sorry#i was like man I want some lark content and then that’s somehow spiraled into#oh my god Willy has like no reason not to just fucking kill them if he wanted#and unless they benefit him so how I don’t see why he wouldn’t#god I hate him#lunarrosette’s shit
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meeee to my dad after he makes a joke (?) about agatha x r/o being the main point of the show after i got physically sick and the one thing ive been waiting for was cancelled without any notice
#he knows how emotional i get. i don’t see the benefit of him doing this#selkie speaking#vent#sorta. not really but i hope yall have that tag filtered
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mad again that I kind of fucked up alistair’s character arc completely by accident just bc I didn’t think the cynical mean line after the goldanna quest was a helpful thing to say to him. LMAO
#I love alistair and I love how he’s written#I HATE that hardening his personality is entirely reliant on that one line#AND I DIDNT EVEN KNOW IT WAS A THING UNTIL I WAS LIKE 20+ HOURS AFTER THAT QUEST#like I did not know that was a mechanic AAUGH#I personally really liked that he struggled a lot with his grief#and that he was very eager to have a piece of family again#I guess I umm did not realize that his sensitivity was something that needed to be worked past for his own benefit#or that a single line my character said to him would be the only determining factor ⁉️ lmao#my one gripe with this game so far!!#but I rock with it atp I lay in my grave lol. I don’t think him staying a warden is a terrible ending for him atp#but I guess… I will see#[fearful]#itsepost#dragon age#dao
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me when people hate on aos trek:
#starlight fandom#starlight trek#LOOK I KNOW THEY AREN’T GOOD MOVIES THEY WERE IF MARVEL HIT STAR TREK WITH A BASEBALL BAT BEHIND A CLUB#BUT AOS GOT ME INTO STAR TREK IN THE FIRST PLACE OKAY IT HAS A PLACE IN MY HEART FOREVER#AND IT’S NOT AOS!JIM’S FAULT THAT THEY WROTE HIM BAD I ACTUALLY THINK ITS REAL INTERESTING#TO SEE A VERSION OF JIM KIRK THAT’S TRAUMATIZED AND FUCKED UP AND DIDN’T HAVE A FATHER AND YET HE STILL ENDS UP COMPASSIONATE#HE STILL ENDS UP A LEADER AND KIND#like fr tho that’s a fascinating concept#how much things may be different and how Spock!prime broke the timeline by melding with aos!kirk#and Kirk still ends up kind and loving and beloved anyway!!!!!#like I’m sorry they didn’t execute well until beyond and honestly I ignore stid entirely but it’s such a cool concept to me#and Karl urban as bones was so. SO. SO GOOD. he was perfect and deranged in the best way#Quinto-Spock I can take or leave but I do love me a bitchy Vulcan and he did have that#it’s okay to not like aos I don’t blame anyone for not liking it but I am so fond of it folks I truly am#and I’m not just saying that b/c the fic I’m writing rn for comfort and therapy reasons is projecting my current issues on aos!kirk#he’s just really to project onto and he looks like he’d benefit from ketamine treatment too and learning how to have hobbies w/o stress#anyway like I said I don’t blame anyone for disliking it or erasing it from their fandom memory#but it got me into Star Trek and I’m grateful and if ppl weren’t cowards aos!kirk would be so fucking fascinating in a feral way
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It’s probably an inevitability of a franchise being this far reaching and this popular and this long lasting but it is so baffling how much of the wider star wars fanbase tries to “fix” star wars
#this is about the anti jedi movement and the satine criticism and the grey jedi fantasy and and and and and#star wars#I think the root of the issue here is that many people find George Lucas’s morality lesson at the heart of the story boring. and lash out#they see jedi who are supposed to be good and it bores them and they go ‘I will poke holes in that and hold them to unrealistic standards’#because their biggest crime is boring the audience who thinks they’re smarter than the fiction they intake#who cannot extend to the boring good guys the benefit of the doubt because they don’t match the sith or the empire’s rule of cool#which leads to justifying the sith order and the empire as Not As Bad As We’re Told Actually#which leads to misinterpretation and misrepresentation of the jedi#which leads to demonization and flattening of perfectly typical flawed characters and literary devices that promote nuance#I really think that’s what this is#I will never forget arguing with a friend a long time ago about the eu versus Lucas’ definition of the force. we argued for weeks#when in the end the argument boiled down to him saying ‘yeah but I think Lucas’s force is boring as shit’#and I was like ‘see. okay. why couldn’t we have acknowledged this way in the beginning instead of#you wasting precious time trying to convince me how to fix the jedi and why the empire is better than the republic#I think thinking of it all in this way helps me emotionally distance myself from all the discourse#nowadays when people watch star wars what they’re looking for is game of thrones#and they’re not seeing it#which means they have to try to make it that - both in their heads and loudly on the internet
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mutuals i got myself into a situation so sticky i don’t even know how to describe it (edit: *describes it* lol). please send thoughts of successful escape my way lol
#purrs#delete later#i SONT understand anything about retirement or insurance whatever and basically imightve signed a contract for smth i didn’t understand#fully and im so scared lol. and i feel so bad bc im stupid and i don’t understand anything and no matter how much peopel#xolain it to me i don’t understand it. i feel like a stupid silly naive little girl rn LOLLLLL i feel so sick#it’s probably fine and not that bad and i didn’t do the wrong step but im freaking out. not just bc of the money situation but also bc they#have to do a. medical exam on me to see how much i would have to pay or whatever 😃😃😃😃😃😃😃😃 wtf#im making it sound like a big bad scary freak thing isigned up for when really it’s not i don’t thin&. it’s just dividend lige insirance but#i don’t understand what any of it means and apparently other stuff is better. idk anything about retirement i only got into this stupid#situation because i had a mandatory retirement selection for work and ididnt understand anything so i scheduled a meeting with a retirement#counselor person to help me figure out which option would be the best for me and he was really nice and helped me a lot but then he started#saying he could help me w additional retirement stuff if i wanted to see what the options were and i was like sure and then he told me abt t#this thing and had me fill out / sign the application in that same meeting to ‘get the process started bc it takes. a long time’ even if i d#decided to pull out later it would be a good thing to get the ball rolling asap if i did end up wanting to do it. but i didn’t understand an#anythi ng and i went along with it anyway and now i might’ve fucked myself over so bad. except i probably didn’t but i feel so bad. bc he wa#was so nice and genuine but maybe he was just trying to sell me a product bc he gets a commission from the insurance company which i he told#me wheni asked him if im getting his help for free. i feel so stupid and guilty omg#and also i signed up for my first credit card but the interest rates are really high which i didn’t realize. and i can’t log into the bank a#account for some reason liek it says my acc doesn’t work. and hr fucked up my pay so i haven’t gotten a time sheet for like 2 pay periods an#and im getting retroactively paid in august but it’s just one more fucking thing and i haven’t gotten the chance to pick new benefits yet#and idk if i can / will bc of my stupid pay situation like i literaly don’t exist in the system rn apparently. i fucking hate all of this i#hate adulting i hate it i hate it i want to explode and hide forever and cry a lot. and my bank account isn’t even my own rn and i don’t und#understand anything about mony or insurance or benefits or credit cards or anything. im so overwhelmed FUCK
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i mean most abusers do love the people they abuse. abuse isn’t something done with intention or malice half the time, it’s done by people thinking they’re doing the right thing. bruce’s love and need for control are constantly in conflict with each other and that’s why the robins are stuck waging a war against him. i feel like a big part of a dysfunctional parent-child dynamic is feeling trapped by your parent’s love. Even if you hate it, it’s still canon that Bruce has been historically bad with dealing with his kids. Half of them don’t even feel comfortable calling him dad cuz the relationship seems so undefined or shaky. In Dick’s case i feel like he has no grounds to oppose robin and his vigilantism because Bruce (deep down) loved having someone like dick around to fight crime with. They both refer that time as “the good old days” so it’s not like Bruce was truly opposed. It’s only when the actual reality of that negligent and naive behaviour materialises that he realises he fucked up (robin year one eg). Then he treats Dick in such a cold manner that Dick believes if he’s not robin, he’s not wanted. This has been a pattern since the golden days so no it’s not ooc for Bruce. Yes the natural conclusion to all the modern day tension should be for both parties to meet and resolve their issues but Bruce is still the abuser at the end of the day, and even though Dick’s self sacrificing nature might easily forgive him, on a textual level it should be clear that a true resolution between the two would need Dick to dig deeper, and for Bruce to be ready for rejection from his son.
i don’t disagree with that assessment of abuse like it’s absolutely true, but my problem is i don’t think the cold or controlling behavior is really a consistent enough pattern until we move into post-crisis canon. for several decades dick and bruce have a great rapport with each other bc that’s what everyone knows they’re supposed to have. like i don’t think most writers from the golden or silver age if asked that they intended to write bruce as an abuser would agree and say yes, and that distinction to me is impt, bc sure, we can take what we’re reading on a surface level and project our own experience or modern understanding of relationships onto it, but i don’t think that should happen to the extent authorial intent is superseded bc then you start to enter territory where you’re divorcing narrative from genre conventions. if we go by the assumption that bruce is an enabler and abuser for allowing dick to be a hero for so long without purported attention paid to his safety then that establishes practically every hero within the universe possessive of a sidekick as an abuser. and i do get that some people are interested in following that thread like esp in post-crisis we see that exploration a lot but ig for me personally it’s kinda like the thing that breaks the camel’s back and withholds the entire genre from actually allowing itself to explore more pertinent issues. not to say abuse isn’t a pertinent issue, it absolutely is and i do think there’s ways it can still be explored, but the primary reason the genre was established in the first place was in response to fascism. obv the engagement with that wasn’t necessarily complex early on but it’s incredibly impt to the development of the genre and as we can see in a modern context how that response to fascism or lack thereof is conveyed can be incredibly influential in terms of facilitating support or not for fascist government. so my issue is like, yes, it’s impt for bruce’s faults in these relationships to be addressed to a constructive and worthwhile extent, but i also think writers have gone so drastically far in curating those faults in the post crisis era that it’s effectively restricted the scope of the stories they’re allowed to tell, bc they’re more focused on individual instances and relationships within this world than they are on any form of commentary that reflects the operations of the world at large in relation to regulation of crime
#i also feel like it’s difficult to establish consistency in bruce’s pattern of behavior bc he’s written by like. so many people#like i get some people are okay with picking and choosing the canon they curate and to an extent i do so too#but distinguishing between writers is very impt to me personally and idk i feel like that’s.. not something people comparatively care about#esp when it comes to the abusive bruce argument#ig in reply you could argue i prefer to give him the benefit of the doubt by favoring writers whose portrayal doesn’t toe the line of abuse#as egregiously like that would be a fair criticism. but idk i just don’t see the long term benefit of driving bruce to that place#in another medium or entirely different story where these circumstances were isolated maybe it’d make sense to explore#(like satirist responses to the genre for example. not saying the boys is good i have no idea but that comes to mind)#but i think trying to follow that thread so extensively within the genre itself really just like. leads it so far away from itself#but again i get how people would disagree with that and that’s okay 🫡#also hope it’s okay i don’t make this rebloggable like you’re being very civil but not everyone on here necessarily is#when it comes to this topic. jsbdjdnkd so i would rather keep discussion restricted to here#outbox
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I’ve been watching the latest season of love island USA on my normie [affectionate] sister’s rec, and while it’s good tv it’s also got me like, “fucked up that they made a world where girls don’t kiss,” so naturally I type “bisexual reality tv” into a search engine and learn that there was a pretty recent- christ, never mind, it premiered five years ago, how time flies -that in 2019 there was a bisexuals-only season of Are You The One and I’m like, “That sounds fun,” and one episode in it Is except that there are like ten seconds of poly-related commentary that make me pull my own hair a little.
#We get such a tiny cut of what was clearly a big group conversation about it that it’s hard to say wtf anyone actually expressed#But the person who does not want to mono it looks Fucking Exasperated and there’s a talking head of the chick who’s into him saying#something like ‘’I’m gonna show Kai he doesn’t need another person’’ or whatever and it’s like#Dragging my hands down my face. Not how it works#we also get a fragment of a sentence from the sex and relationships therapist saying something about how you want to get the hang of#a monogamous relationship before complicating it with polyamory#And while I can certainly see the potential benefits of being temporarily exclusive while you get to know each other…Be Careful#It seems like that would be a situation tailor made for a monogamous person to convince themself they’d either be okay poly when they won’t#and not realizing how not for them the setup is until they’re already deeply invested and the other person is like ‘’alright time to date#other people’’#Or that the poly person will come around eventually and want to be monogamous after all#Idk though! I’m not a sex therapist.#Just a person who did monogamy Once and then never again and have been fine#Making me the smuggest of all commentators on other people’s problems#So don’t listen to me#Memories
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“𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭, 𝐈 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮”
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Suguru’s pov, he has a fat crush on you, reader has breasts, Suguru sucks on your nipples and bites your breasts, caught masturbating, stoner!suguru, Suguru is hypnotized by your beautiful ass self, heavily praise/smallest hint of condescending/teasing, fingering, begging, daddy/mama/princess/sweetheart name calling, smoking a blunt, face fucking, using his dick to masturbate, ‘just the tip’, becoming friends with benefits, some cock sucking and face fucking, begging, edging, squirting, he uses a vibrator a little towards the end, hints of suguru's size kink, mutual masturbation, controlling when you can cum, he spits in your mouth once, one pussy slap, light pain kink on both ends (biting you, digging your nails into him)
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @devilsfavouritelamb; I'm so fucking predictable and reading through those I could imagine so many lines with other characters BUT 'you came so fast, I barely even touched you' with Geto would send me into space😭🫶🏻
𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡; 1.8k / 6 minute read!
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐞𝐲; I’m sorry for how long this took 🥲 I hope you enjoy it!
"Suguuru mnnnn!" Your sweet moan makes Suguru's cock throb. Throwing the blanket off and getting out of bed. Grabbing the blunt from the ashtray along with a lighter.
Another erotic moan from your bedroom, “Guru!” His cock getting heavier and thicker in his sweats. His name couldn’t sound better then when you moan it.
Suguru quietly steps into the hallway, your door is cracked. Easing it open. You’re so damn sexy with legs spread apart stroking the prettiest clit he’s ever seen. A vibrator charging next to you.
Grabbing the top of your doorframe, "Anything I can help you with sweetheart?” Ripping your eyes off the muted faceless guy stroking his fat cock. Tugging the sheets over yourself, your eyes wide with adorable embarrassment.
Suguru laughs, “Aw look at you beautiful, playing with your cunt.”Walking into your room, pointing at your screen, “Were you pretending that was me?” Hooking his thumb in his sweatpants, slowly pushing them down showing you an inch of his cock.
Letting the band go, it snaps back into place. He croons, “Don’t tell me all shy on me again after moaning my name. Did ya forget I was here?” You can't meet his gaze but you can stare at his cock, its so damm cute.
You huff glance away and clutching your sheets tighter, “Yeah, I thought you left, you’re mean!” Pausing the porn playing on your bedroom tv.
Suguru scoffs, “How? I was taking a nap. If anything you’re the mean one playing with your pretty cunt moaning my name, all without me.” He pushes his sweatpants down, kicking them to the side.
Smirking as you glance over then stare at his heavy cock swinging as he walks closer. “Then you cover up when I come to watch. With how you were you moaning my name I thought you wanted my attention.” Spitting in his hand smearing it over his fat cockhead. Suguru’s abs flex as he fucks his fist.
Encouraging you, “Lemme see how you play with yourself when you’re thinking about me mama.” You push off your covers lie down and spread your legs. Sliding your finger in between your soft-looking lips. Soaking your finger to rub your soft clit easier.
Suguru gets on the bed, you have the sexiest cunt his ever seen. “Your cunt ‘s gorgeous mama, ‘s wet thinkin’ about me.” His mouth is watering looking at you. Whilst his cock drips pre-cum onto your sheets.
Smearing the pearling drop of pre-cum on his cockhead’s small slit with a slow swirl of his thumb. “Look me in the eyes mama n’ keep moaning my name when you touch yourself.” You’re eyes are beautiful, alight with an intense lustful passion and needy
Moaning “Suguru please touch me.” It almost makes Suguru cave. “I wanna cum on your fingers.” It’s beautiful how needy you sound begging him.
Suguru’s cock softly twitches in his palm. He needs to feel your soft wet cunt rubbing and squeezing his cock till he bursts. “I’ll pay for plan b fuck I wanna cum in ya.” Swirling his fist stroking his cock faster. Your hands around his cock would make him look so much bigger.
He feels massive kneeling on the foot of your twin-sized bed. You’re soft, supple body and vulnerable state play on Suguru’s size and power kink. His mind is racing things he can do to you and the ways he can tie you up. He wants to test your soft body out with his, find your limits. And make your eyes roll back with body-shaking pleasure.
Begging him, “Daddy please.” Sitting up and grabbing his wrist, sliding it off his cock, slipping two of his thick fingers in your mouth. Swirling your tongue around as you play with your clit.
His cheeks flush with heat. Your warm wet tongue around his fingers, your beautiful body so close to his, he can’t think straight. Suguru is seconds from pinning you to the bed when you glide his fingers out of your mouth.
Grabbing your hair and yanking your head back, “Open your mouth beautiful.” Spitting in your mouth for you to swallow, sticking your tongue out for more. “Fuck me, I wanna stuff my cock in your pretty mouth.” Dipping your head down to take him in your mouth.
You’re beautiful bent over, your soft ass looking so damn smackable. When your sweet lips press against his cock head Suguru's breath hitches. This is really happening. His eyes roll back as he groans when you take him into your hot mouth.
Rolling his hips fucking your mouth. He has always adored your pretty lips. Seeing them wrap around the butt of a blunt was hot. Plaguing his mind when he'd jerk off. But this. watching your pretty lips gliding along his cock, seeing each inch vanish inside of you is memorizing.
Fucking your sweet mouth faster, his balls softly hit your chin with each quick pump of his hips. You grab his thigh digging in the nails he paid for last week when you got stressed.
You suck in your cheeks, stick your tongue out straight, taking his cock like a good slut whilst touching yourself. "Lie back n use my cock like a slut to masturbate. Rub my cock head on your pretty clit but don't cum." The more he slips out of your mouth the harder you suck, making his tight remble.
Leaning forward his broad shoulders curling in. Groaning your name his cock slips out with a pop! "I hope you can go multiple rounds in one day, I'm gonna get horny again thinking about your pretty mouth mama." Admiring you as you lie back down on your back spreading your legs welcoming Suguru.
Lying his fat cock on your soft wet lips. Instantly obsessing over the color and feel of your lips against his pale cock. Along with watching his cock head nudge your perfect clit.
Sliding his hand along your side, gently squeezing. Suguru cups your soft breast, sliding his thumb over your beautiful nipple.
Sliding your hand down his chest, groping his thick pecs, tracing the lines between his abs. “You’re so damn handsome Suguru, you can fuck me like a glory hole whenever you want.” Following his dark happy trail to his cock, holding him still, grinding your hips. Your hands and cunt are so soft.
Grabbing your headboard leaning over your short stature feeling massive as he looms over you. "Next I'll tie you up, after I cum on ya I'll leave ya there like a sex doll for me to come fuck whenever I want" Slowly swiping his cock from side to side getting yourself off with his cock like he's one of your toys.
Sucking on his thumb gently rubbing your soft nipple. Slowly twisting your hardening bud, you sound so hot crying in pain. Gently rubbing your soft nipple, massaging your breast.
Your eyes flutter shut, and your sweet bottom lip trembles. It’s memorizing watching the pleasure overwhelming you. Pleading with him, “Suguru, Daddy, please! I was about to cum before you came in. Please tell me I can cum!” Clenching him with your supple thighs, grinding your hips faster. You’re getting so close.
Suguru pulls away and slaps your wet cunt. The way your body tenses as you cry is stunning. “Watch me, I love seeing passionate lust in your pretty eyes.” Gliding his fingers in, rubbing your sensitive clit with his thumb.
Your squishy, soaking wet cunt quivers, clenching his thick fingers. Dipping his head between your legs. Watching your beautiful, squelching hole take his finger. “Fuck I can't wait to see you take my cock.”
Curling his finger searching for your sweet spot. Biting by your knee, licking up your thigh towards your cunt. Adding a little more pressure on your sensitive cunt.
Arching your back, digging your hips into the bed, grabbing the sheets. He’s found the perfect spot. “There we go beautiful.” Wrapping his hand around your neck, nudging in a second thick finger.
Leaning down to bite your breast, flicking your nipple with his tongue. Rubbing your sweet spot with with fingers, playing with your clit. He adores how you tremble beneath him.
Pinning you by your throat, biting down on you as he finger fucks you. It makes Suguru feel primal like he’s claiming you as his.
Digging your nails into his back, Suguru softens his bite letting your breast go. Grabbing the blunt resting in your ash tray, “Spark it for me mama.” Putting it between his lips for you to spark after you catch you breath.
Taking a slow drag, the end burning red. Taking it from his lips, leaning down to blow the sweet bitter smoke into your mouth. Smoke wisps past your beautiful lips as you moan.
Squirming, spreading your legs, pleading with Suguru, “Please lemme cum I wanna-needa! Nnnn!” You’re getting wetter, tighter, clutching his fingers with soft spasms.
Leaning over you, “Whose are you?” Taking a hit off his blunt before ashing it. “Tell me mama whose fingers are you about to cum on?” Stroking your clit a little faster, finally pushing you over that sweet edge you’ve been seeking.
Sensually moaning, “Your's daddy! Nnn fuck I can't stop it!” He could ruin it for you one more time. Make you cum on his cock being such a naughty slut you moaned his name whilst you touched yourself. But the way you’re pleadingly looking at him.
Taking another slow hit, there is nothing better than this. You trembling, moaning about to cum on his fingers whilst he smokes a blunt.
Smoke drifts past his lips as he croons, “Cum mama.” Thick warm cum gushing on his fingers. Smirking, “You came so fast, and I barely touched you, n' ya came so much.” Finger fucking you through your high, slowly dragging his fingers out, sucking them clean.
Dipping his head, swiping his tongue between your lips groaning in your cunt. Grinding his hips into the bed, his cock aching. He needs to feel you.
Kissing your plush, wet lips, lifting his head to look down at you, taking another drag. “Ya taste so sweet mama.” Gliding in just the tip, moaning as he watches your beautiful little hole stretch for the sloping shape of his fat head. The thick soft ridge of his cock’s mushroom head shape vanishes inside you.
He wants to savor this, draw out the first time he gives you his cock. “Beg for more than just the tip while I smoke my blunt. N’ you can make a mess on my cock mama.” With the blunt between his lips Suguru unplugs the charging vibrator.
Clicking it on keeping it in a low and steady setting, swirling it on your wet, sensitive clit. "Go ahead, focus on begging." Your back arches, driving his cock a little deeper. It takes everything in Suguru to glide his cock back out leaving just the tip.
Oreo’s creampie
#jjk smut#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x you#geto smut#geto x reader#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto x you#jjk geto#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#getou suguru x reader#geto x y/n
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I just started Yumi and the Nightmare Painter bc I heard such high praise for it and I have never read any Sanderson before….. why tf does the narrator keep talking to me
#If this is how the whole book is… we’ll see how far I get lol#It just totally takes me out of the story. “His people don’t have the same idea of night that you do” ?? You don’t know me.#Why does he imagine his readers won’t give him the benefit of the doubt?#This is a fantasy novel lol like I think anyone who picks up this book knows it requires worldbuilding??
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𝐧 𝐨 𝐛 𝐨 𝐝 𝐲 𝐠 𝐞 𝐭 𝐬 𝐦 𝐞 ⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆ rafe cameron
playing: 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐞 by sza 𝜗𝜚˚。˚ ⋆
synopsis! a kickback on the beach involving both kooks and pogues turns ugly after rafe sees jj maybank talking sweetly in your ear..
paring: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
warnings: friends? with benefits , angst , mentions of underage drinking , violence (fist fighting) , toxic!rafe , sexual content + rough unprotected car sex! , choking , fingering , mature , 18+ (minors dni!)
word count: 6.7k
notes: thinking about making this into a series but it just depends on how we all like it so lmk!
chapter two: 𝐰 𝐢 𝐥 𝐝 𝐟 𝐥 𝐨 𝐰 𝐞 𝐫 ⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆
chapter three: 𝐜 𝐚 𝐬 𝐮 𝐚 𝐥 ⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆
⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚。˚ ⋆⋆ ˚。⋆
“you’re a fucking idiot,” kie says through a burst of laughter, watching jj attempt to shotgun two beers at once. instead of drinking, most of the beer spills straight onto the sand, leaving him grinning like it was all part of the plan.
a soft giggle slips past your lips as jj smashes the crushed cans together dramatically, then thumps his chest like he just pulled off something incredible—even though he couldn’t have failed more miserably.
you shake your head, pointing at the two crushed cans lying in the sand. “don’t give him any more if he’s gonna pull shit like that!” you say, half-serious, half-amused.
jj’s grin fades into a mock frown, his brows furrowing as he throws his hands up dramatically. “what? i was just getting started!” he protests, though the beer-soaked sand beneath him says otherwise.
you roll your eyes, ready to fire back at jj, when the vibration of your phone in your hand distracts you. the name on the screen makes your stomach flip, and you bite down on your bottom lip, fighting to keep a smile from slipping out where your friends could see.
kook devil: wya?
you: beach kickback on the cut
kook devil: omw
this time, the smile wins. you glance down at the screen, the corners of your lips tugging upward despite yourself. it wasn’t the first time rafe cameron had texted you late at night, asking where you were. but no one else knew that. and you weren’t about to admit it to anyone—especially not to your friends.
friends who hated kooks with a passion. and everything, and everyone, that came with them.
“what are you smiling at?” sarah asks, her voice light but laced with curiosity, as she and john b stroll over, his arm draped casually over her shoulders. her amused grin only makes you more nervous.
you lock your phone instantly, still smiling but scrambling for an excuse. “my package just got delivered,” you say quickly, trying to sound nonchalant.
sarah hums in response, the suspicion in her tone subtle but enough to make your stomach tighten. you don’t notice, too busy avoiding eye contact and silently thanking the chaos that erupts when jj and pope start arguing about something ridiculous, as usual.
you knew what you were doing was wrong. so wrong, especially to sarah. if she ever found out you and rafe were hooking up behind everyone’s backs, she’d lose it. they all would. and not just because he’s a kook.
it’s because he’s rafe fucking cameron.
it was kind of a blur how it all started with rafe. you remember being at a party—not sure if it was here on the beach or in figure 8—but of course, he was there, lingering in the crowd. all night, his eyes kept finding yours, holding your gaze just a little too long.
a couple of tequila shots later, you found yourself in his truck, attempting to ride him as he fucked you senseless, leaving you a trembling mess of moans and breathless curses.
ever since that night, you’d fallen into a rhythm—friends with benefits, if you could even call it that. except you weren’t friends. not even close.
you and rafe both knew the deal—just sex, no strings attached. it was made clear the second time you hooked up. after somehow getting your number, rafe texted you at 1 a.m. asking to meet. if it had been anyone else, you would’ve said no without a second thought. but rafe cameron always gets what he wants.
afterward, it was rafe who spelled it out: just sex, nothing more. and you agreed, even though the words stung more than you cared to admit. you told yourself you were fine with it, hoping that maybe, just maybe, if you played along long enough, he’d change his mind.
except he hasn’t.
and what really reeled you in was just the other day, you spotted him on the golf course with stacy thornton, topper’s cousin of all people. and of course he knew you’d see him—you work the country club as a bev girl. how could you not?
still, you swallowed the lump in your throat, pretending not to care even as your chest tightened. you quietly asked a coworker to handle his table, murmuring something about being swamped, and then buried yourself in busywork to avoid the sting of watching him laugh with her.
since that day, he hasn’t called or texted. not a word. until tonight.
because surely, stacy was busy.
“yo, y/n! come shotgun a beer with us!” kie and sarah call out, snapping you out of your thoughts. you force a small smile, pushing everything about rafe to the back of your mind as you stand up from the driftwood branch you’d been perched on. joining your girls, you grab a beer and do your best to play along.
as the night rolls on, the beach fills up with more people—kooks, pogues, and everyone in between. the music gets louder, and the air becomes a chaotic mix of laughter, shouting, and waves crashing in the background. drunk teenagers stagger through the sand, passing bottles and shots around, but so far, there haven’t been any issues. yet.
but you know how these nights go. when kooks and pogues show up to the same party, trouble is inevitable. it’s only a matter of time before someone says or does something to spark it. like clockwork.
bright headlights pierce through the darkness, momentarily blinding you as a familiar truck pulls onto the beach. your stomach tightens at the sight, but you force yourself to stay calm, laughing along with your friends as if you hadn’t noticed. even as the kooks around you start murmuring and shouting, announcing rafe’s arrival, you keep your eyes anywhere but on him.
your gaze flicks to sarah, catching the way her jaw tightens when she sees her older brother greeting her old friends with effortless charm. the tension is palpable. it’s no secret that sarah and rafe are far from good terms, and the thought of what she’d do if she ever found out about you and him is enough to make your chest ache. she’d hate you—no question about it.
and you didn’t want that. not now, not ever. so tonight, with enough liquid courage coursing through your veins, you’d finally do it. you’d end whatever this thing was with rafe. it was time. it had to be.
“hey, sweetheart,” jj slurs, suddenly draping an arm over your shoulders, his familiar, lopsided grin plastered across his face. the smell of alcohol lingers on his breath, and you can’t help but laugh. drunk jj was always clingy and affectionate, a far cry from his usual chaotic self.
“how are you? you good?” he asks, his voice softer than usual, his blue eyes lazily scanning your face for any hint of something wrong.
you nod, patting his knee where it rests against yours. “i’m fine, jay. what about you? having fun?”
he grins wider, squeezing your shoulder as if to reassure you. “always. especially now that you’re here.” his words are lighthearted, but his presence, warm and grounding, makes the knot in your stomach ease just a little.
“don’t start something you can’t finish, maybank,” you tease, your tone playful, something that’s always been a part of your dynamic with jj. it was harmless, never anything more than friendly banter. jj was like a brother to you, and you both knew it.
his smirk widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “oh, i always finish what i start,” he shoots back, his voice dripping with mock confidence. the comment makes heat rise to your cheeks despite yourself, and you nudge his side with a laugh.
“relax, jj,” you say, still grinning, but he just laughs along with you, clearly enjoying your reaction.
then his tone drops, more conspiratorial now, as he leans in closer. “can i tell you a secret?” he slurs, his voice low and exaggeratedly serious.
you play along, tilting your head toward him as he cups a hand over his mouth like he’s sharing classified information. “i’m so drunk right now,” he whispers dramatically.
a laugh bursts out of you, louder than you intended, as you push him off of you. “no shit, jay,” you say through your giggles, watching him sway slightly before laughing along with you. moments like these made everything feel lighter, even with the weight of everything else hanging in the air.
suddenly, the laughter dies in your throat as a familiar voice cuts through the noise, instantly tightening the tension in your shoulders. “i wanna laugh too,” rafe drawls, his tone sharp and laced with something dangerous.
your head snaps up, and sure enough, there he is, standing a few feet away with his hands casually stuffed into his pockets. but his stare is locked on you, unwavering, intense. your stomach churns as you quickly look away, pretending not to notice.
“what are you doing here, rafe?” sarah asks, her voice cold as ice, glaring at her brother like she wanted him gone before he could stir up trouble.
he shrugs nonchalantly, though the slight clench in his jaw betrays his calm demeanor. “well, last time i checked, you don’t own the beach, sarah,” he retorts, his tone sharp enough to cut. the sunset casts a fiery glow on his face, highlighting the tension in his features. he’s angry—at what, you don’t know, but it’s obvious.
sarah opens her mouth to snap back, but before she can, jj suddenly stands to his feet, his drunken bravado kicking in full force. “what’s your problem, man?” he slurs, his voice rising as he steps forward, shoulders squared like he’s ready to fight.
your heart pounds in your chest as the energy shifts sharply, the tension coiling tighter with every second. it’s like the whole beach can feel it, the calm before the inevitable storm. you glance around nervously, noticing the kooks starting to make their way over, drawn by the brewing conflict like moths to a flame.
what had been your comfortable little corner with your friends now feels suffocating as more and more people gather, the divide between kooks and pogues growing thicker with every step they take. rafe doesn’t move, his stance unbothered but his eyes flickering with something unreadable as they dart between jj and you.
you can hear your friends muttering behind you, tension spreading like wildfire. this wasn’t going to end well—you could feel it in your bones.
john b, ever the peacekeeper, steps in with a steady hand on jj’s shoulder, giving it a calming squeeze. “hey, bro, take a walk,” he says softly, his tone measured, trying to de-escalate before things spiral further.
but jj shakes his head, his expression twisting with frustration. “nah, nah, nah,” he says, shrugging john b’s hand off. his voice is louder now, sharp and angry, fueled by alcohol and pent-up resentment. “i’m so tired of these fuck-ass kooks ruining our fun. everything was fine before they got here.”
he turns to rafe, his eyes blazing with defiance. “so answer the damn question, rafe. what the fuck is your problem?”
the words hang in the air, cutting through the murmur of onlookers as more kooks and pogues close in around you, their postures rigid and ready for whatever’s about to unfold. the tension is suffocating, thick enough to choke on. your stomach twists as you glance between jj, who’s practically vibrating with anger, and rafe, whose jaw is locked, his eyes dark and unreadable.
rafe suddenly lets out a low, humorless laugh, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. he swipes a finger under his nose, his signature tell that trouble is coming. before anyone can react, he steps forward and throws a punch, his fist connecting squarely with jj’s jaw.
the sound of the hit echoes over the beach, silencing the chatter and gasps from the growing crowd. jj stumbles back, catching himself before falling, his hand flying up to his face as he spits blood into the sand.
“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” john b mutters, stepping between them instinctively, trying to keep jj from lunging forward. but jj’s already shaking with rage, shoving john b aside as the crowd erupts around you.
the once calm beach party turns chaotic, the tension finally snapping into chaos, and you’re frozen in the middle of it all, unsure of what to do as your heart pounds in your chest.
mayhem erupts around you as everyone starts shouting, the noise almost deafening. jj and rafe are swinging at each other, fists flying with raw anger. john b and topper try to break it up, but their own simmering tensions (sarah cameron) boil over, and soon enough, they’re throwing punches at each other too.
“alright! alright!” you, sarah, and kie yell, your voices cutting through the chaos as you rush in, desperately trying to pull the four boys apart. it’s a mess of flailing arms, insults, and drunken fury, but with the help of the other pogues and even a few kooks who seem equally tired of the drama, you finally manage to separate them.
jj stands a few feet away now, chest heaving as he wipes blood from his lip, glaring daggers at rafe. rafe, meanwhile, is being restrained by two kooks, his jaw tight and his eyes locked on jj like he’s ready to go again at any second. john b and topper aren’t much better, breathing heavily and throwing venomous insults back and forth as they’re held apart.
you step back, your heart still racing as the crowd buzzes with murmurs and tension, the air thick and electric. this was far from over, and you could feel it.
“yeah, stay the fuck off our side of the island!” jj yells, his voice sharp and unwavering as the kooks start retreating. rafe lingers, of course, making direct eye contact with you. his gaze burns, but you glare right back, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. whatever you needed to say to him was definitely happening tonight after the shit he just pulled.
“take jj to the chateau. i think there’s a first aid kit in the bathroom,” john b instructs kie and pope, his tone calm but firm. they nod, each grabbing one of jj’s arms to help guide him away. jj, still riled up, mutters under his breath about how much of a pussy rafe is, his words slurring slightly from the drinks and adrenaline.
sarah walks over to you, concern etched across her face. “hey, you okay?” she asks gently. her voice is soft, but the sincerity in her eyes almost undoes you. you nod quickly, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over.
“yeah, i’m fine. just anxious,” you respond, your voice steady enough to sound convincing. it’s not entirely a lie, but it’s far from the whole truth. sarah offers you a small, understanding smile, her hand rubbing your arm soothingly.
“coming?” she asks, gesturing toward john b, who’s waiting for her a few feet away.
“i think i’m just gonna head home,” you say, your voice a little rushed. “my mom texted—she got off work early, so…” you let the excuse hang in the air, hoping it’s enough.
sarah nods slowly, her eyes flickering with a mix of understanding and suspicion. “john b and i can walk you,” she offers.
“no, it’s okay. i kinda need a moment,” you reply quickly, your voice firmer this time. you hold your breath as her gaze lingers on you, studying you for a beat too long. but thankfully, she doesn’t press it.
“okay, babe,” she says finally, her concern softening into a warm smile. “let me know when you get home, yeah?”
you nod, watching as she walks back toward john b, the two of them eventually disappearing into the growing shadows. only when they’re far enough away do you exhale, the weight of the night pressing heavy on your chest.
with one last glance at the party starting to settle back down, you turn and walk in the opposite direction, knowing exactly where you’re going—and who you’re going to face.
you make your way over to the truck, its headlights dim now but still parked exactly where he left it. crossing your arms over your chest, you lean against the back door of the truck, waiting. it’s quiet here, tucked away from the rest of the beach where no one can see you.
the sound of approaching footsteps pulls your attention, and there he is. rafe cameron, calm and collected as ever, despite the chaos he caused. he’s holding a red solo cup against his cheekbone, the faintest shadow of a bruise forming. but even so, you have to admit—he doesn’t look nearly as bad as jj does. of course he doesn’t.
his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you say anything. the tension between you is thicker than ever, the air heavy with unspoken words. you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for what you came here to do.
“i can’t see you anymore, rafe,” you say, finally breaking the silence. your voice is firm, but you can feel the ache behind the words, threatening to betray you.
rafe doesn’t move. instead, a small, almost smug smile quirks at the corner of his lips. “get in the truck,” he says, his tone low and even, like it’s not up for debate.
your brows knit together, your frustration bubbling up. did he not hear you? or worse, did he just not care? “no, rafe,” you snap, shaking your head. “what you did today—” you pause, letting out a sharp sigh as the memories replay in your mind. your gaze shifts over his shoulder to the road, watching cars pass by, their headlights a welcome distraction. “you hurt my friends,” you continue, your voice quieter now but still steady. “i care a lot about my friends. and that shit you pulled back there?” you point toward the spot on the beach where the chaos unfolded, the tension still lingering in the air. “wasn’t cool.”
rafe follows your gesture with a glance, his expression unreadable. but when his eyes flick back to you, there’s something in them—something dangerous, something unshaken. he doesn’t respond, just waits, like he knows you’re not finished yet.
“why would you do that?” your voice cracks despite your best effort to keep it steady. the words hang heavy in the air, and you curse softly under your breath, furious with yourself for letting your emotions bubble over. you promised you wouldn’t let him see you like this—wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. but now, the tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill.
rafe’s face doesn’t change, his jaw tight but his expression otherwise calm, almost detached. it’s like he’s weighing his words, deciding what to say—or if he’ll even bother answering at all. the silence feels suffocating, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on your chest.
“are you fucking him?” rafe finally speaks, his voice low and steady, but the accusation behind the words hits you like a slap. you stare at him, wide-eyed, like he’s just grown three heads.
a laugh of disbelief escapes you as you shake your head, running a hand through your hair to keep yourself from losing it. “are you serious right now?” you ask, your voice teetering between anger and shock.
“are you?” he presses, his tone sharper this time, his eyes locked on yours, unrelenting.
“oh my god,” you mutter, another laugh bubbling out, this one laced with frustration. “is that why you did that? you think i’ve been fucking one of my best friends? are you shitting me, rafe?” you shake your head again, the absurdity of the accusation almost too much to handle.
he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down, his gaze still burning into yours like he’s waiting for you to crack. but you don’t—at least, not yet.
“well, since we’re just accusing each other of shit now,” you say, your voice sharp as a knife, “how’s stacy doing?” your eyes flicker between his, and just like you predicted, his confidence falters. there’s a moment—a flicker—where his gaze drops, and you pounce. “i assume she was busy tonight, right? that why you texted me?”
“what the fuck are you talking about?” rafe snaps, his chest rising and falling heavily as he steps closer, his frustration spilling over.
“oh, don’t give me that shit, rafe,” you fire back, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. your eyes dart away from his, landing anywhere but on him. “i saw you at the country club,” you continue, your voice cold, the memory still fresh.
his jaw tightens, but he doesn’t say anything, and the silence only fuels your anger. “and even then,” you add, spinning back to face him, your words cutting like glass, “what if i am fucking jj? what is it to you? you’re the one who said no strings attached, right?”
you see the way his nostrils flare, his jaw clenching so tightly you think it might snap. his eyes darken, and you know exactly what he’s thinking—the thought of jj seeing you the way rafe has, touching you, hearing the sounds you make. it’s killing him. but he won’t say it. not out loud.
“you’re mad, rafe,” you say, your voice quieter now but still firm. “but you don’t get to be. not after the rules you set.”
you push past him, deciding you were done—done with the accusations, the games, all of it. but, of course, you don’t get far. rafe’s hand closes firmly around your wrist, yanking you back toward him with enough force that you stumble. before you can steady yourself, you collide with his chest, the hard press of muscle against you taking your breath away.
his lips crash against yours without warning, rough and demanding, pulling a shocked gasp from your lips. the intensity of it sends a jolt through you, but it’s not enough to freeze you in place. your fists fly up, pushing hard against his chest, trying to shove him off.
“rafe,” you manage, your voice muffled against his lips, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear you. instead, your resistance only seems to fuel him, his free hand sliding up to wrap around your neck, not too tight, but firm enough to hold you there.
his lips move hungrily against yours, his breath hot, his grip unwavering. you can feel the frustration, the anger, and something else tangled in the way he kisses you—something you can’t name, something overwhelming. your heart races, torn between wanting to fight and the way your body reacts instinctively to his touch.
you hated it. hated how easily your body betrayed you, handing itself over to him without a second thought. and the worst part? rafe knew it too. he always did.
he used it to his advantage every time, just like now. the second your resistance began to falter, the tension in your fists loosening as your body instinctively softened against his, that familiar smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips. he could feel it—the way your resolve was slipping, the way the pull between you was overtaking every logical thought in your mind.
the familiarity of him started to seep through, clouding the anger that had burned so brightly just moments ago. rafe’s grip on your neck relaxed slightly, his fingers brushing your skin like he had all the time in the world, as if he wasn’t the reason you’d wanted to end this in the first place.
and god, you hated him for it. but you hated yourself even more. no matter how much you told yourself to walk away, to end it, your body always seemed to betray you the moment his hands were on you.
before you even realized what was happening, you were in the back seat of rafe’s truck, straddling his lap. his hands gripped your hips with bruising force, guiding your movements as you instinctively rolled against him. the friction of his hardened, clothed cock pressing against you sent shivers up your spine, a traitorous whimper slipping past your lips.
his breath was hot against your neck, his lips brushing your skin as he let out a low groan of satisfaction. you hated how easily he got to you, how the anger you felt just moments ago melted into something entirely different. but no matter how much you wanted to stop, your body moved on its own, craving the familiarity of him, the intensity only he could give you.
his hands move from gripping your hips to trailing up your back, his fingers deftly finding the string of your bikini top. with a quick tug, the knot unravels, and the fabric falls between you, exposing your chest to the cool night air. the intimate sound of your breathing mixes with the muffled noise of the distant beach party, but all you can focus on is him.
rafe wastes no time, leaning in to pepper kisses across your chest. each press of his lips ignites a trail of goosebumps on your skin, the sensation making you arch closer to him. his mouth finds one of your hardened nipples, pulling it into his mouth as his hand cups the other, his fingers teasing and rolling with practiced precision.
a moan slips from your lips, filling the still air around you. rafe hums in satisfaction, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin. his grip on you tightens as he continues, clearly intent on drawing every reaction out of you that he can.
“fuck, i missed you,” he breathes, his voice low and ragged as he pulls back just enough to let the words slip past his lips. before you can even process them, his mouth is back on you, his lips and tongue working their way across your skin, pulling a broken whimper from your throat.
you shake your head weakly, your fingers gripping his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. “no, you didn’t,” you whisper, your voice trembling, the words more of a desperate plea than an accusation.
rafe pauses, his lips hovering over your collarbone. his hands tighten their hold on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he meets your gaze, his blue eyes blown out. “yes, i did,” he mutters, his tone firm, almost defensive, before dipping his head back down to kiss you again, as if he could erase the doubt you so clearly feel.
with one hand, he makes quick work of the button on your shorts, pulling them down just enough to give himself better access. his hand slips past the waistband of your bikini bottoms, his fingers brushing against your heated skin. the low groan that escapes his lips when he feels how soaked you are sends a jolt of heat straight through you.
“not surprising,” he mutters against your lips, his voice thick with smug satisfaction.
you gasp, your head falling back slightly as his fingers glide through your folds, gathering your arousal before starting slow, deliberate circles against your clit. the sensation sparks through you, making your hips instinctively rock against his hand, chasing the friction.
rafe’s smirk deepens as he watches you, his free hand gripping your waist tighter to keep you steady. “that’s it, pretty girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, dripping with control. “just like that.”
a moan escapes your lips when his fingers pick up their pace, his breathing becoming heavier against your neck. “think that pogue could get you to cum like i can, huh?” he taunts, his words cutting through the haze of pleasure. before you can respond, his fingers dip into your entrance, filling you to where you feel the cold metal ring wrapped around his finger, while his thumb presses firmly against your clit. the double stimulation sends a shockwave through you, your hands fisting his shirt as you struggle to stifle the moans threatening to spill out.
you bite down hard on your lip, trying not to give him the satisfaction he craves, but it’s so hard—he knows your body too well.
“i know he can,” you finally manage to retort, your voice breathless but defiant. the second the words leave your mouth, you see it—the flicker of rage that darkens his eyes. his movements grow rougher, more deliberate, as if he’s determined to make you eat your words.
you sob out a moan, your body trembling as his pace remains relentless, refusing to give you even a second to catch your breath. “the fuck he can,” he growls, his voice low and feral, watching with a smug satisfaction as you struggle to keep yourself upright. his smirk deepens as he leans in, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, all teeth and desperation, swallowing your broken cries.
your hands cling to his shoulders as waves of pleasure crash through you, your body arching into his touch. his fingers work you expertly, his movements precise and unyielding as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps.
“c’mon, baby,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and dripping with desperation. “let me hear you.” his words send a shiver down your spine, and you feel yourself teetering on the brink, unable to hold back any longer.
you feel yourself start to convulse around his fingers, your body trembling as a broken cry tears from your lips. the waves of your orgasm crash over you, leaving you breathless and weak. rafe keeps going, his fingers guiding you through every pulse of pleasure, not stopping until your body begins to twitch with hints of overstimulation. but there’s no tenderness in it—not that you deserved any, not after what you said.
your earlier comment still burned in his mind, fueling a fire in his chest, the thought of you with jj maybank making him see red. it wasn’t about trust—it was about possession, and rafe couldn’t stand the idea of someone else touching what he considered his.
without warning, he grabs your waist and flips you around, pressing your head against the leather seat, your ass in the air. your shorts and bikini bottoms are gone in one swift motion, leaving you completely exposed. you barely have time to react before you hear the sound of his zipper, his own clothes hitting the floor of the truck in a mess.
“you wanna talk about jj?” he growls, his voice low and dripping with frustration as he positions himself at your entrance, the heat of him pressing against you. “let’s see if you’re still thinking about him when I’m done with you.”
before you can process his words, he thrusts into you without warning, burying himself to the hilt in one swift, punishing motion. the stretch is overwhelming, a cry slipping from your lips, quickly muffled as you press your face into the seat.
rafe doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, setting a relentless, eye-rolling pace that has your body jolting with every thrust. his hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you back to meet each snap of his hips, his frustration evident in the way he moves.
“you feel that?” he mutters, his voice rough and breathless as he leans over you, his chest grazing your back. “that’s all me. no one else, you hear me?” his words mix with the sound of skin against skin, every syllable driving him deeper, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him.
you nod dumbly, unable to form words as your body reacts to his every movement. a gasp tears from your lips when his arm snakes around your neck, pulling you upright slightly and holding you firmly in place. the pressure makes your head spin, amplifying every sensation coursing through your body.
the truck fills with the obscene sounds of wet slaps and desperate moans, each one louder than the last. your cries mix with rafe’s rough groans, the intensity between you reaching a fever pitch. you briefly thank your lucky stars that his truck has fully blacked-out windows, shielding this mess of tangled limbs and raw need from prying eyes.
rafe moans in your ear, his voice thick with possession, his breath hot against your skin. “all mine. no one else gets to have you like this.” his pace never falters, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge again, leaving you gasping and trembling under his control.
just when you think the pleasure is close to consuming you whole, rafe’s fingers snake down between your thighs, finding your clit with infuriating precision. he rubs quick, tight circles, the added sensation pulling a choked cry from your lips as your body jerks in response.
your arm flings back instinctively, your hand finding the back of his neck, clutching onto him desperately as if he’s the only thing keeping you upright. his breath is hot against your ear, ragged and uneven, matching the force of his thrusts.
“fuck, baby,” he groans softly, his voice laced with satisfaction as he feels you trembling against him. “you’re gonna cum, aren’t you?”
“rafe—“ you moan, your grip on his neck tightening as the overwhelming mix of sensations sends you spiraling, your body teetering on the brink. every snap of his hips, every movement of his fingers, pushes you closer, the pleasure crashing over you in waves as you fight to keep from collapsing back into the seat.
your body trembles uncontrollably as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, your walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip. rafe grunts, his breath ragged and uneven as he feels you squeezing him, the sensation tipping him over the edge.
“shit,” he moans, his voice low and strained, giving one last stuttered thrust before he stills, his release spilling into you. the warmth of him floods your core, the weight of his body pressing against yours as he rides out his high, panting heavily into the crook of your neck.
the air in the truck is thick, the only sounds now the mingling of your heavy breathing and the faint hum of the world outside—so distant it feels like it doesn’t even exist. rafe’s hand loosens its hold on your hip along with the arm around your neck, his thumb lazily brushing your skin as he finally starts to come down.
rafe’s forehead, damp with sweat, rests against your shoulder for a moment as he catches his breath. Slowly, he pulls out of you, leaving you trembling and weak-kneed. Sensing it, he carefully guides you to sit on the seat, his touch surprisingly gentle now, as if trying not to shatter the fragile silence between you.
but it doesn’t last long. the haze starts to lift, post-sex clarity hitting you like a wave. your heart pounds—not from pleasure anymore, but from the weight of everything that just happened. you don’t look at him, don’t say a word. instead, you scramble off the seat, your eyes scanning the floor of the truck as you rush to gather your clothes. the humid air clings to your skin, suffocating you, making it feel like the walls of the truck are closing in.
“y/n,” rafe starts, his voice softer now, but you don’t respond, just shake your head. You tug your shorts on with shaky hands, your bikini top still tangled in your grasp as you turn your back to him, your only thought being how fast you can get out of this damn truck.
as soon as you adjust your bikini top, you’re scrambling for the door handle, slipping out of the truck as quickly as you can. the door slams shut behind you with a loud thud, cutting off the heavy silence inside. rafe’s voice calls after you, his tone somewhere between frustration and confusion, but you don’t look back. you don’t even slow down.
his words echo faintly in the humid night air as you trudge across the sand, but you block them out, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
you hated yourself in this moment—really hated yourself. how could you be so weak? jj was probably back at the chateau right now, an ice pack pressed to his bruised face, joking it off like he always did. meanwhile, you were here, tangled up with the very person responsible for putting him there.
it made your stomach twist. you felt pathetic.
the guilt gnawed at you, making every step away from that truck feel heavier, like you were sinking further into something you didn’t know how to escape. you wrap your arms around yourself, the night air cold against your skin, and silently vow—never again.
as you step into your home, the soft glow of the television catches your eye. your mom is asleep on the couch, the faint sound of some late-night show playing in the background. you pause, the sight of her peaceful face tugging at something inside you. quietly, you grab the nearest blanket and drape it over her, tucking it gently around her frame before turning off the TV.
you make your way to your room, your body heavy with exhaustion. pulling out your phone, the screen lights up with countless missed calls and texts—all from him. rafe’s name stares back at you, the words call me back and where did you go? flashing among the messages. with a sigh, you open the contact and quickly silence his notifications. blocking him would feel too final, too harsh, and you know it wouldn’t stop him anyway. rafe knew where to find you—where you lived, where you spent your time, even your favorite food spot. blocking him would only provoke him further.
you drop your phone on the bed and head straight for the bathroom, turning the shower dial as cold as it would go. the icy water hits your skin like needles, but you welcome it, hoping it’ll wash away everything—his touch, his words, the feeling of his hands on your body.
but no matter how long you stand there, no matter how hard you scrub, the memories resurface, unrelenting. the way he looked at you. the sound of his voice. the pull he always had on you. you press your forehead against the cool tile, biting back the emotions threatening to overwhelm you.
how did it get this far?
the muffled vibration of your phone stirs you from sleep, the name sarah 🐚 lighting up the screen. groaning, you fumble for the phone and press it to your ear, voice still thick with sleep. “hell—”
“is it true?” sarah’s voice crackles through the static, sharp and tense, jolting you fully awake. your eyes shoot open, the confusion and dread hitting you all at once.
“sarah, what—” you begin, but she doesn’t let you finish.
“got it,” she says curtly, and before you can protest, the line goes dead.
you pull the phone away from your ear, staring at the dark screen as if it could offer you answers. confusion twists in your chest, but then you see it—a new message notification from her.
your hands tremble slightly as you unlock your phone and click the message. the screen shifts to a video file, sent from an anonymous number. you hesitate, the dread creeping up your spine like ice, but you press play.
the blood drains from your face as the video begins. it’s you—you and rafe. the footage is grainy, but it’s unmistakable. you see yourself pressed against the back door of his truck, his hands gripping you as you melt into the heated kiss. the angle shifts slightly, shaky and invasive, capturing the moment he pushes you inside the truck. and then—cut.
the video ends abruptly, leaving you staring at the black screen, your heart racing so hard you can feel it in your throat. you drop the phone onto your bed, your blood running cold as the weight of it crashes over you.
someone had seen. someone knew. and now sarah did too.
© aerialmirrorss
#⋆ ˚𝐚𝐫𝐢𝜗𝜚writes#drew starkey#rafe cameron#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine
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𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄
- sylus x reader
more than friends with benefits, definitely lovers. your relationship is one filled with banters, steamy nights, and secret strings attached... but when someone shows an interest in you, sylus won't hesitate to stake his claim for everyone to see
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—jealousy, crack, fluff, smut, a dash of comfort, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc)
note: loosely a sequel to strictly (un)professional. how this snowballed into 3.8k... i don't really know :')
“Missus, please spare us!”
You shot an unamused look at the twins before you, who clasped their hands together, pleading for you to let them go.
“Why is it so difficult for both of you to say?” you hissed, crossing your arms together. “I’m not asking for much—just a recount of what happened!”
“Boss will have our tongues for this!” Kieran looked up at you, quivering. “No way, I want to live!”
“He’s terrifying…” Luke shuddered in fear, hugging himself. “You don’t know how frightening he is!”
You were holding both Luke and Kieran hostage, the tender preys, all because Sylus refused to reveal what you had been wanting to know these past few weeks.
“So you’re afraid of Sylus…” You fixed them with a steely glare. “But have you ever thought that if you don’t spill it now, I will be the one taking both your tongues?”
“—?! Missus, please!”
“Why are you bullying the twins?” A deep voice cut through the twins’ pitiful laments, and you let out an exasperated huff as your chance slipped away once more.
Speak of the devil, and Sylus shall appear. He looked at the scene before him as if you were all a bunch of kindergarteners.
Luke and Kieran immediately flocked to him. “Boss! Save us! She’s scary!”
And now you were suddenly the scary one. You rolled your eyes. "Your henchmen are useless."
Sylus glanced at you with a half smile, knowing what information you were squeezing the twins for. "Sweetie, just give it up. You'll find peace faster that way."
Was it wrong to be curious about what Sylus had been up to during the three weeks you were unconscious after the attack that literally took your life? Why was he being so secretive about it anyway?
“I know, you were so worried sick you didn’t even eat or sleep,” you taunted your lover with a wicked smile. “That’s why you won’t tell me about it.”
Sylus laughed outright. “Pftt. You’ve got quite the imagination. Good to know.”
Nothing much changed after that night of his confession—if you could call it that—to you. You were indeed no longer strictly his bedwarmer, but your banters stayed the same, if not even more sarcastic now.
“Chop chop, we have an auction to go to, sweetie.” Sylus placed his big hand on your head, amused. “Stop being a hissy kitten towards the poor twins and get ready, hmm?”
“I’ll definitely uncover it,” you shot him a resentful glare. “Just you wait and see.”
Such were your days with your true kindred-spirits lover. He would tease you during the day and turn you into a hot mess at night, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
In tonight's auction, you had one target: the broker for a new rising star firearms dealer. Sylus had been eyeing him, deducing his goods could be a nice addition to his armory.
And so, you went up to him. However...
“...Are you single, miss?”
Here we go again.
You forced a tight smile. “Sir, I’d appreciate it if we can stick to subject at hand.”
The man blinked, then quickly plastered on a wide grin to mask his surprise. “Oh yes! Yes, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted— well, I’d say this is a pretty solid MoU... but I’ll need to contact my boss first.”
This weirdo... you thought with boredom, is so transparent.
This wasn’t the first time you’d dealt with a situation like this. Granted, you were pretty and you knew it, but usually, more distinguished men would be a bit more subtle about it.
“Take all the time you need,” you encouraged smoothly, your eyes crinkling in an attempt to look friendly. “As you can see, Mr. Sylus has proposed the perfect bargain for this kind of dealings.”
“I wouldn’t argue with that. I assure you we’ll certainly try to accommodate his request.” The man nodded and gave you a meaningful look, before coughing awkwardly. “Uh, sorry, what was your name again, miss?”
Your faux smile remained perfectly still as you replied, “Mephisto.”
The man’s eyes roved over you, and he grinned roguishly. “Right. Still, I never expected Mr. Sylus’ secretary to be as beautiful as you, Miss Mephisto...”
This was tedious. Your patience was tested with every leering look he gave you. Sylus must know this already, and he's somewhere laughing at the sight of you dealing with this creep.
“You flatter me too much, I’m average.”
“No, no! I mean it!”
He knows... yet he wouldn't do anything about it. Not that you would expect Sylus to barge in like a man blinded by envy, but still, he was insufferable for not coming to you just like he had for Miss Hunter back then.
The man kept droning on and on about himself and everything else that had nothing to do with the business deal, and you were this close to dropping him and using your Evol to shut him up when—
He then turned to you expectantly. “Oh, there is a dance! Miss, would you mind if I have your first dance?”
“Oh...”
And it occurred to you... why not spice things up a little?
Sylus’ dark crimson eyes narrowed silently as he watched both of you from the island table while savoring his glass of wine, before he let out a loud snort.
That vermin doesn’t have a clue he is playing with fire.
For most of your interaction, the firearms dealer’s broker kept giving you suggestive looks, and occasionally brushing his hand against yours on purpose. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and it was amusing to see how aggravated you looked the entire time.
Adorable. Sylus found you incredibly endearing these days, from your pouts to your glazed eyes whenever he thrusted into you—
You were oh so delectable… at least until he saw you holding that lesser man's arm, as he led you to the dance floor.
A deep frown immediately formed in his forehead.
“What are you scheming now?” Sylus scowled, half exasperated and half in disbelief. “You naughty cat.”
He was even more irked when he saw how casually you wrapped your arms around that vermin, twirling and pressing yourself against him in a waltz. Seeing him trying to hit on you was one thing, but for you to reciprocate was just plain unacceptable.
—and to his ire, your audacity continued throughout the night.
. . .
“Miss Mephisto, do you play pool?”
“I do.”
“Then, will you play with me?”
Sylus was now burning with tendrils of anger, watching you from a closer corner. He had seen the broker put his hands on you so many times that he had lost count—during the dance, mingling with other guests, and while sharing hearty laughs. All in all, you were acting as if you had forgotten he was even here.
You were threading on a very thin ice and whether you realized it or not... you didn't seem to care.
"Ah, I think your stance is a bit off..." And to make it worse, the broker was definitely seizing every chance he could, as there was nothing wrong with your form—you often accompanied Sylus playing pool, so you were a pro—and yet he still got behind you, trying to drape his arms around your body.
That was the last straw. Enough is enough.
Before Sylus realized what he was doing, he stormed over to where you were, yanked your arm forcefully, and effectively separated you from him. He didn’t give a damn about the horrified shout from the broker or the judging looks from other partygoers as he dragged you by the hand out of the ballroom.
“Sylus!” you nearly shrieked when he kicked open a door to a meeting room and locked it with his black-red mist. He pinned you against the wall, and crashed his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
“Mmph!” You tried pushing him back, but he was stronger and held you in place, his tongue forcing your lips open as he pressed the back of your head toward him. His other hand slipped inside your dress—between your legs— two fingers in—
“—!” you couldn't even squeal as he devoured your mouth and the shock set in, feeling yourself getting aroused by the minute when his fingers did that scissoring thing and edged you further.
After he was done with your mouth, his hot lips trailed down to your neck and shoulder blades, sucking hard on several spots, making you gasp and moan.
"Hah... this... is the price to pay for testing me, sweetie," your lover growled his nickname for you with satisfaction as he noticed you trembling body, nibbling on your shoulder. "You want to get punished so badly, huh?"
"Ahh..." you threw your head back, clinging to him, grinding yourself against his fingers.
"Is it funny to you? Watching me see him touch you?" Sylus' unforgiving ruby eyes stared down at you like a lion eyeing its prey. "What an insolent little kitten you are..."
His fingers kept moving and thrusting inside you in an alarming speed, mercilessly hitting that one spot that could make you cry. He was seriously teaching you a lesson by forcing you to come undone right then and there.
"I-I...!" you tried to refute, but then you felt the knot inside you burst, and in the next second, you could feel yourself coming all over his fingers, shuddering, your breaths coming in pants.
Feeling faint, relief washed you when he pulled out his fingers. You leaned and clung onto him, pulling him closer, and Sylus finally saw what a mess he had turned you into.
Your glassy eyes focused solely on him, seemingly pleading—and those swollen lips, as well as the sizzling heat creeping up your cheeks—
“Ha,” he let out a low chuckle, a wicked grin curling his lips. “If I can still make you look like this, then I suppose I can forgive you.”
“You’re a meanie,” you mumbled breathlessly.
“You’re the mean one,” Sylus tutted with narrowed eyes, starting to pull away from you.
But then you pulled him close again and pressed your lips to his, this time with a gentleness that surprised him.
There was no malice or burning desire in your kiss. Strangely, it felt far more intimate. You pulled away, the heart-stopping swirls of his red eyes captivating you as you pressed your foreheads together.
“Needy, aren’t you, sweetie?” Sylus whispered, holding your gaze, his breath hot against your skin.
But right now, all of a sudden, you looked so vulnerable to him, as if any wrong word from his lips would shatter you. It made him almost feel guilty for manhandling you so roughly.
You didn’t respond, just wanting this closeness with him. Behind your snarky words and little schemes, this was what you wanted more than the release you just got. Sometimes, you still worried—did he want this too?
“What is it?” Sylus asked with a frown, seemingly concerned. “Talk. Tell me.”
“Nothing…” you replied in a small voice.
“Do you feel sick? Want to go back?”
You shook your head.
You weren’t usually this quiet. Sylus couldn’t help being restless at your sudden change. It felt awkward for him to do what he was about to do next, but instinctively, he figured it would comfort you a bit.
You felt a pang in your heart when he pulled away, but in the next instant, a wave of warmth enveloped you as he pressed you to him, burying your head against his sturdy chest.
For someone who deals with blood and gore, your body felt too soft and fragile, yet still fit perfectly in his arms. Though he had held you and made love to you many times before, it was only now that he truly noticed how small you were.
“You’re warm…” you murmured, your voice carrying a hint of a whine.
So needy and pliant… for him.
“My woman is such an enduring mystery.” Sylus mused, sounding almost as if he were lamenting. “Sometimes she’s a brazen kitten without a shred of shame, but then she pulls stunts like this.”
Your heart picked up the pace. You are... his. That was right. You were his woman in every sense of the word now, and he wasn't shying away from it.
But to cover your embarrassment, you could only come up with, “Can you not refer to me as cat...?”
He shot you an irked glance. “No.”
“He calls me by your bird’s name.”
“...”
“Sylus, you can’t murder him. Your deal will go down the drain.”
“Tch.” Sylus blew out an annoyed sigh, glaring at you. “By the time I get back here, you’re going back with me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yes, yes.”
Honestly you were exhausted, and you wanted to nothing more than a good sleep. But you couldn't just leave the broker without preamble because this deal depended on him, and Sylus too had some loose ends he had to tie before the two of you left.
Strangely, all eyes were on you when you returned to the ballroom. You wondered why as you navigated the crowd until you met the broker you had fooled in so many ways.
“Oh, Miss Mephisto, you’re back!” he was visibly and utterly drunk, and you cringed at the strong smell of alcohol on his breath. But then you noticed his eyes seemed to be fixated on your—
Neck. You realized in horror.
“Oh... hic, t-that... I-I see,” he blabbered, coughing awkwardly as he stared at the marks on your neck. “Miss... so that man is... y-your lover...?”
“Uh...” It was a wonder he didn’t recognize Sylus at first glance. Perhaps it was because he was so infamous, but it astounded you how this person couldn’t even tell that it was him.
"I-I thought... w-we..." he hiccupped again heartbrokenly, before snatching a glass on the table. "Oh, I need more drink!"
You observed him, half cringing. "Sir, I just want to remind you that once the documents are signed—"
"Yeah, yeah! It will be done by the end of the week!" he yelled at you. "Miss, how about you have a drink too!?"
Suddenly, a glass of gin was shoved into your hand, and you let out an irritated sigh. Yeah, he might be right. A glass of alcohol would help you sleep better tonight, you figured, so you chugged it down.
"Huh...?" And it didn’t take you long to realize something was amiss. The dizzying sensation set in far too quickly, you felt so hot, and you had to lean on the table next to you to keep from falling.
“Are you okay...?” a waitress asked you with concern, but the only sound you could hear was your own violent heartbeat. Before you knew it, the glass in your hand slipped from your grasp and crashed into the floor.
"Oh, miss! Are you okay?!" the broker suddenly got a hold over your body. "Oh! It seems you aren't feeling well! Let me escort you to you room!"
Room? You barely discerned what happened when he led you out of the crowd. Your head spun terribly, and then suddenly throbbed, making you clutch it and cry out in pain, "Ah!"
It didn't make sense, no matter how you saw it. You had a pretty good tolerance, so for you to get hungover from a gin was just—
“Oh, does it hurt much?” he suddenly asked in your ear, making you shiver. “Don’t worry... it'll be bearable soon enough... I’ll make sure you will feel good…”
It's him! You realized. He spiked your drink!
His arms were now locking yours, steering you to go into the elevator. You took a deep breath before directing your speech manipulation evol on him— "Let go!"
He was immediately jerked away from you, but as a result, you almost crumpled, your vision swimming and your head pounding intensely. The pain made you feel close to passing out, and yet you managed to trek forward, leaning on the wall for support.
You had to get away from him before he could catch up to you. Panic set in, and when strong arms caught you, you convulsed, thinking he had grabbed you—
“Stop thrashing!”
“S-Sylus...?” You looked up, trying to focus on his face, but everything was so blurry.
“I’m here.” His voice was ragged, and you’d recognize it anywhere. “What happened to you? Are you hurt?”
“M-my head...” Your voice came out as a broken whimper, clutching at your throbbing head. “Hurts...”
You were feverish, trembling against his hold, and you reeked of alcohol. Sylus instantly realized something was seriously wrong and pressed your head into his chest to provide comfort. “Just a little bit longer—” his deep voice carried a subtle hint of alarm as he hoisted you up to his arms. “Hang on, alright?”
But just as he was about to bring you back, he caught the sight of a fleeing silhouette in the corner, and realizing who it was, his right eye blazed, black and red mist swirled in the air and restrained the broker, engulfing his screams.
“S-spare me! P-please!” the man pleaded tearfully, pinned on the ground, and Sylus approached him silently, looking down at him with so much spite in his eyes.
“A roach that doesn’t seem to know his place…” The corners of his lips twisted into a sadistic smile. “Whether you survive or not depends on you. Best hope you’ll last.”
Despite his pleas, he paid it no mind as he walked away with you in his arms.
When you awakened, your head was no longer pounding.
It took you a moment to realize there was a cool compress on your forehead, you were now in a clean oversized sweater, and someone was holding your hand.
Sylus. You looked up to find him asleep, sitting with his back against the headboard beside you. It was rare to catch him sleeping. In this moment, he looked defenseless, yet a faint frown lingered on his handsome face.
Has he been waiting for you like this, holding your hand all night...?
You tried to get a better look at him, but the rustle seemed to wake him up instead, as his eyes cracked open.
“You awake?” he asked, voice so sultry it woke all your senses up. “I was just shutting my eyes.”
“Aren’t you uncomfortable sleeping like that?” you asked.
Sylus turned toward you, his eyes still hazy from sleep. “What about you? Feeling better?”
“Mm-hmm.”
He placed a hand on your head, ruffling your hair gently.
“Really, you...” His stare was so withering it made question marks appear in your head. “I took my eyes off you for one minute, and you ended up with alcohol poisoning?”
“—? I didn’t know! But wait, what happened to that bozo?”
Sylus gave you a deadpan look, and you gasped. “You… didn’t kill him and have his body secretly disposed of, did you?”
“Just who do you think I am?”
“…a kingpin of an illegal syndicate?”
Your lover’s scowl deepened further at your response. “Nah, he got lucky. I only returned him with a broken jaw, broken hips, and two missing teeth.”
“Sylus!”
If he looked sleepy before, now he definitely looked wide awake. Sylus always sleeps at dawn, and you wanted him to rest more than anything, but now you were itching to ask him...
“Say... were you waiting for me while sitting like this too when I wasn’t conscious for three weeks?” You avoided his gaze, the question burning on your lips. Sylus had never given you a straight answer whenever you asked him about this.
This time too, he grumbled, “Why do you keep asking that?”
“Because I can’t ask Luke and Kieran, they look as if you’d set them on fire.”
Sylus went silent, not giving you any affirmation at all, and you huffed and unclasped his hand, pursing your lips together. “I see. You don’t care about me at all. Noted.”
You heard him sigh, before his red eyes squarely landed on you.
“When I was shot, you worried about me even when you know I’m going to be alright,” he suddenly posed the question on you. “Didn’t you?”
You nodded, and he tousled your hair again—the action alone somehow made you feel warm.
“Whatever you felt that day, that’s the same to what I went through during those three weeks. Multiply it by ten.”
“Huh!?” you rose up from the sheets in surprise, facing him.
Sylus then turned away from you, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. “That’s it, sweetie. I’m going back to sleep now.”
“Wait!”
You scrambled into his lap, clinging to his shoulder. Sylus begrudgingly opened his eyes again, a look of irritation on his face. “What?”
Multiply it by ten…? Heh. At this moment, you felt light and giddy, knowing that the two of you were now true lovers in every way that mattered even when you were faced with his sourness.
“Don't scowl too much!” you giggled merrily. You placed your fingers on the corners of his lips, gently lifting them to force a smile. “Honesty suits you much better, Sylus. It’s recommended.”
This cheeky woman... Sylus never thought the day would come for him to experience these myriad of emotions, much less for them to be incited by you.
He pulled you close, one arm around your hips and the other around the back of your head. Your lips met his in a passionate kiss that left no room for further conversation, only parting when you both needed to catch your breath.
“If you want me to, then don’t make me relive those nights,” he said with a sly smile, his crimson eyes glinting in the light and his voice like silk against your ears. “Can you?”
His tone softened your gaze, a warm sensation spreading through your chest. You responded with a playful snort, wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him another peck on the lips.
After your innocent make-out session, you nestled closer to him with a contented sigh, savoring the reassuring warmth of his embrace as you both drifted off again into the morning.
Epilogue
"Do you hear anything?"
"No, nothing..."
Luke and Kieran whispered amongst themselves as they tried to hear anything of importance beyond Sylus' bedroom. After their boss went back home with you passed out in his arms last night, they had totally expected the worst.
“Seems like she’s alright then…” Kieran concluded, stepping away from the door. “We should just go. If Boss catches us, we’re dead.”
The twins backed away from the door and went back to the living room, sighing in relief.
"But honestly, Boss has changed lately, hasn't he? He looks kinder, somehow."
"Are you sure, Luke? Maybe it's just when he looks at the missus. With us, meh."
“I still get chills thinking about when he destroyed the Protofield to dust after he found her following the explosion,” Luke gazed off in wonder. “It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen, but it was also heartbreaking—especially when he tried to wake her and realized she was beyond help because the steel had pierced her heart…”
Luke and Kieran went quiet at the memory.
“Anyhow!” Kieran suddenly exclaimed. “All’s well that ends well! To be honest, I totally saw it coming that they'd end up together!”
“Ooh, you're right! They did a bad job of hiding it too, no less! I mean, one time, the missus came out of his room while—”
As the twins gossiped about their master and mistress, they were unaware that Mephisto the crow, perched nearby, was dutifully recording their conversation and would report it all to his master later.
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