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enhaflixer · 2 days ago

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HARD HOURS - Enhypens reaction when you ask them a sexual question

cw: Explicit mentions, choking, spanking, spitting, dirty talk, shower sex, anything else? wc 8.2K TL: @ziiao @beariegyu @naurwayyyyy @ijustwannareadstuff20 @somuchdard @ddolleri @jinnibug AN: HEY YALL KINDA CRAZY BUT THIS WHAT IM BACK WITH, my fav was jungwons for surrrreeee but pls lemme know who's you liked the most in the comments! this is the post to this ask!

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠

Heeseung was sprawled out on the couch, completely locked into his game, fingers tapping furiously at the controller as the sounds of gunfire and explosions filled the room. His brows were furrowed, his jaw set in focus. You could tell by the way his leg bounced slightly that he was fully immersed—until you sat beside him and nudged his thigh.

“Hee?” you murmured sweetly.

“Mm-hmm,” he responded absently, eyes never leaving the screen.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, babe. Just give me a sec,” he murmured, dodging an in-game attack and letting out a satisfied laugh when his opponent went down.

You crossed your arms, tilting your head. “It’s a deep question.”

“Okay,” he said, distracted, “Gimme one more—” He froze as soon as the words fully registered. His head turned slowly, one brow arching in mild suspicion. “Wait. What?”

“It’s a philosophical question,” you continued, fighting back a smile.

“Philosophical,” he repeated dryly. He paused the game, setting the controller on his lap as he gave you a long, unreadable look. “What kind of philosophical question? Like, the meaning of life or something?”

You bit your lip, doing your best to keep a straight face. “Not exactly. It’s about… choking.”

Heeseung blinked. His fingers twitched against the controller. “Choking,” he repeated, his voice suddenly much lower. “Like, uh… the kink?”

“Mhm,” you confirmed, stretching out your legs like this was a casual conversation. “I’ve been thinking about why people like it. Is it about trust? Control? Or maybe something more primal?”

Heeseung stared at you. Then he sighed, dragging a hand down his face before leaning back against the couch. “Are you serious?”

You shrugged. “I think it’s an interesting topic.”

“I was literally about to beat that level,” he muttered, pointing at the paused screen. “And you want me to sit here and analyze the philosophy of choking?”

“Well, you can still play,” you teased, nudging his arm. “I can talk while you game.”

He gave you a long, unimpressed look before picking up the controller again. “You’re insane,” he muttered.

“Think about it,” you continued, grinning at how flustered he was. “Why do we want to give up control like that? What does it say about our trust in each other?”

Heeseung groaned, pausing the game again and dropping the controller onto his lap. “You’re seriously not going to stop until I answer, are you?”

“Nope,” you said brightly, leaning closer to him.

His eyes closed briefly as he let out another sigh. When he opened them again, there was a glint of amusement in his gaze. “Fine,” he muttered, setting the controller aside completely. “If you want to talk about trust and control or whatever, I guess we can do that. But just remember—you brought this on yourself.”

The corners of his mouth twitched upward, and despite his initial exasperation, you could tell he was starting to enjoy this. He leaned toward you, resting his forearm on his knee, and smirked. “Alright, philosopher. Let’s hear it.”

You blinked, slightly taken aback by his sudden shift in attitude. “Wait—are you actually interested now?”

Heeseung’s smirk grew. “No,” he said flatly, crossing his arms, “but you’re clearly not gonna let this go. So go ahead, hit me with your big philosophical choking theory.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at how serious he looked. “Okay, well, I think it’s not just about the physical act, you know? It’s about trust. You’re giving someone that much control over you, and you have to fully trust them not to hurt you. That’s kind of beautiful, don’t you think?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Beautiful?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. It’s like a dance—one person leads, the other follows, but only because they trust that the other person knows exactly when to stop. It’s not just primal. It’s… intimate.”

Heeseung snorted. “Intimate,” he repeated, shaking his head. “You’re really turning choking into some kind of love poem?”

“I’m just saying!” you protested, throwing up your hands. “It’s more than just physical. Don’t you ever think about why we’re into the things we’re into?”

He let out a short laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, not really. I just figured you liked it rough sometimes.”

You couldn’t help but grin at how casually he said it. “Well, yeah, but it’s not just that. It’s the trust. The dynamic. That feeling of giving up control in a safe way. Don’t you ever think about what that means?”

Heeseung looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a dramatic groan, he reached for his controller again. “I think it means I’m never gonna get to finish this game if you keep talking.”

You laughed, lightly swatting his arm. “You’re such a dork.”

“And you’re overthinking everything,” he shot back, though there was no real bite in his tone. “But fine. If it means that much to you…” He paused, his gaze flickering down to your lips before he leaned in closer, just barely brushing against you. His voice dropped slightly as he added, “Maybe I’ll show you exactly what trust feels like later.”

Your breath hitched, the teasing smirk on his face making your pulse race.

He pulled back quickly, though, laughing as he turned back to his game. “But only if you let me beat this level first.”

Heeseung’s fingers lingered against your jaw, his thumb moving in slow, deliberate circles along your cheekbone. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, flickered over your face, lingering on your parted lips. He was watching—reading you—taking in every shaky breath, every nervous flick of your gaze, every small movement that gave you away.

“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice lower now, a velvety, teasing hum. His lips hovered just inches from yours, and you could feel his breath ghosting over your skin. Close, but not close enough.

Your pulse jumped. He wasn’t even touching you properly yet, and somehow, he had you completely at his mercy. “You’re the one making me wait,” you managed to whisper, though your voice lacked the teasing edge you intended.

Heeseung chuckled softly, the sound deep and knowing. His grip tightened slightly, his fingers sliding down the column of your neck, grazing your collarbone before settling just above your waist. He held you there, his touch grounding but unhurried—like he was savoring the anticipation, like he knew exactly how worked up you were and was in no rush to give you what you wanted.

“That’s because I like seeing you like this,” he admitted, his tone smooth and unbothered, yet threaded with something darker. “All needy. Barely keeping it together.” His thumb dipped slightly, brushing against the waistband of your shorts before retreating—just enough to make you twitch under his touch.

Your breath hitched, and his smirk grew.

“You keep talking about trust,” Heeseung continued, his fingers toying lazily with the fabric at your hip. His movements were slow, agonizingly slow, as if daring you to break first. “But you already know you trust me.”

Your body leaned into him instinctively, searching for more, but his grip tightened just enough to hold you still. “Then prove it,” he whispered against your jaw, his lips finally making contact. “Let me do everything.”

The words sent a shiver through you.

His mouth moved down, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his tongue tracing the faintest heat against your skin before he pulled back—leaving you aching for more. His other hand slid under the hem of your shirt, fingertips grazing over your ribs before drifting lower. Every touch was calculated, purposeful. Just enough to make your stomach tighten, just enough to make you want to beg.

But you didn’t. Not yet.

Instead, you dug your fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as if he were the only thing tethering you to reality. Heeseung chuckled again, the sound vibrating against your throat.

“You’re holding on so tight,” he murmured, his voice dipping even lower. His lips hovered just beneath your ear. “Afraid I’ll let go?”

You swallowed hard. “No,” you whispered.

His teeth grazed the sensitive spot on your neck, just barely. “Then stop thinking,” he ordered softly. “Just let me take care of you.”

Your breath came quicker now, your body already burning with anticipation. And Heeseung—Heeseung could feel it.

His smirk deepened as he pulled back slightly, dark eyes flickering over your face. He was still taking his time, still making you wait. His fingers skimmed lower, trailing along the waistband of your shorts once more before slipping underneath.

You gasped softly, your fingers tightening against his skin.

Heeseung grinned, satisfied. “That’s better,” he murmured. “Now let’s see just how much you really trust me.”

And then, finally—finally—he gave you exactly what you needed.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠

Jay was so patient with you.

Your husband spoiled you endlessly, let you crawl into his lap whenever you wanted, kissed you lazily even when he was exhausted, and held you close like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. But tonight? Tonight, he was actually trying to work.

You should’ve let him.

But then, you didn’t.

Instead, you climbed into his lap without warning, straddling him like it was the most natural thing in the world. He froze immediately, hands still hovering over his MIDI keyboard, his body going stiff beneath you.

You could feel his exhale against your neck. Slow, steady, knowing.

“…Bored?” he asked finally, his voice warm but very clearly suspicious.

You hummed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Not really. Just wanted to sit here.”

Jay let out a slow suffering sigh, but his hands settled on your waist instinctively. “Baby, you know I’m—”

“Can I ask you something?” you interrupted, tilting your head.

His fingers drummed absentmindedly against your back. “Okay…” He gave you a very skeptical look. “Is it normal?”

You pursed your lips, pretending to think. “I’d say so.”

Jay narrowed his eyes slightly, still not trusting you one bit. “Go on.”

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his jaw before whispering, “Why do you think I like sitting on your face so much?”

Jay’s entire body locked up.

His grip on your waist tightened immediately. His lips parted slightly, his pupils dilating as his brain fully shut down.He blinked once. Twice.

“…What?”

You smirked. “Do you think it’s about power? Like, I like being in control? Or do you think it’s more about trust?”

Jay just kept blinking.

You could see the exact moment his brain tried and failed to process what you had just said. His brows furrowed slightly, his jaw tensing.

“…Are we really having this conversation right now?”

You grinned. “Yes.”

Jay let out the deepest sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “I—what? Why?”

“Because it’s an interesting question.”

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping firmly. “Baby, I was literally working. And you just decided now was the best time to talk about why you like—”

“It’s psychology, Jay.” You lifted your hips slightly before settling back down, just enough to feel the way his breath hitched beneath you.

Jay’s fingers flexed, hard. His grip on you tightened instantly. His jaw clenched, visibly trying to keep it together.

“…You’re actually insane,” he muttered.

“But you love me,” you teased, shifting slightly again.

Jay inhaled sharply, his patience visibly wearing thin. “Okay,” he muttered, voice lower now. “You want an answer?”

You nodded, biting back a smirk.

His fingers traced slow, lazy circles against your hips. “I think,” he murmured, his tone dipping into something dangerous, “you like it because you know I’d stay there for hours if you let me.”

Your breath hitched.

Jay’s smirk deepened, his hands gripping tighter now. “Because you like having me at your mercy. Because you like seeing me fall apart underneath you.”

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

He leaned in, his lips just barely brushing against yours. “But if you wanna talk about trust,” he whispered, “then let’s test it.”

Before you could react, he rolled his hips up into you.

A sharp gasp left your lips as the friction sent a rush of heat straight to your stomach. Jay’s smirk didn’t fade. If anything, it grew as his hands guided you—slow, lazy movements, just enough to tease.

“Still wanna keep talking?” he asked, voice all silk and sin.

You barely managed to swallow. “I—”

He rolled up again, his grip tightening.

You whimpered.

Jay chuckled, leaning in until his lips brushed against your ear. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands guided you over him again, the friction sparking a dangerous kind of heat between your legs, your thighs trembling slightly as you gripped his shoulders. You could feel everything. The way he fit against you perfectly, the heat of his body radiating through the thin layers between you.

Jay’s lips brushed your jaw, his voice a low murmur. “I want you to feel it.”

You barely managed a reply before he rocked you down against him again, harder this time. A choked moan left your lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your body already burning.

Jay’s hands didn’t stop. Didn’t slow down.

His lips curled against your ear. “See?” he whispered. “You don’t even need my mouth to fall apart.”

You let out a desperate, broken noise, gripping onto him as your stomach coiled tighter and tighter, the slow, deliberate grind of his hips sending waves of heat through you.

“You wanted to talk about trust?” Jay muttered. “Then trust me. Let go.”

And then, he pushed up into you just right.

Your body gave in instantly, the sharp, overwhelming pleasure ripping through you too fast to stop. You trembled in his arms, your breath catching, your nails biting into his skin as you came right there, just from the way he moved you.

Jay let out a low groan, his hands gripping your waist as he kept you steady through it, watching you come undone in his lap.

And when you finally slumped against his chest, shaky and breathless, he just chuckled, his voice filled with pure satisfaction.

“That,” he murmured, lips pressing against your temple, “is the real answer to your question.”

𝐒𝐢𝐦 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐮𝐧

Jake was completely at peace.

Sprawled across the couch, his laptop open in front of him, he was deep into some ridiculously long YouTube documentary about deep-sea fishing. His head was resting comfortably against the couch cushions, his arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other settled comfortably around your waist. You were leaning into his chest, tucked perfectly against him, the warmth of his body pressing into yours as he absentmindedly traced slow, light circles over your stomach.

It was comfortable. Domestic.

It was also about to be completely ruined.

He hadn’t even realized what he had done, how carelessly he had set himself up for failure, until it was far too late. Because when you walked in, when you settled so easily into his lap, nuzzling into him like you belonged there, he greeted you without thinking.

“Hi, my angel.”

The moment the words left his lips, his entire body tensed.

The realization hit him immediately.

A slow, creeping pause settled between you, as if even the air had stilled. His fingers froze mid-trace against your stomach. His breath hitched, sharp and slow, and you—you little menace—smiled. Sweetly.

Jake blinked once. Then twice. He swallowed hard, his grip on you tightening slightly. His brain was already trying to calculate how to undo his mistake, how to steer this moment back into something safe.

But it was too late.

His breath came slower now, more measured, more cautious. “Wait…” he murmured, his voice tinged with immediate regret.

You tilted your head up, still smiling. “Can I ask you something?”

Jake let out a slow, suffering sigh. “Oh, here we go.”

You ignored him, shifting slightly in his lap, settling in closer. “Why do you think dirty talk is so powerful?” you asked, your tone almost innocent. “Do you think it’s more about power dynamics? Or is it psychological?”

Jake’s entire body locked up.

Every single part of him—his hands, his breath, the subtle rise and fall of his chest—all of it stopped.

Like a deer caught in headlights, his fingers, which had been resting lazily on your stomach, stiffened completely. His jaw went tight. His chest barely moved.

Then, after a long, long moment of absolute silence, he sucked in a slow, sharp inhale.

His head tilted back against the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling as if asking the universe why it had forsaken him.His hands dragged down his face, his frustration so tangible you could almost taste it.

“…What the fuck.”

You giggled. “It’s a valid question.”

Jake turned his head so slowly it was almost painful, his eyes narrowed in pure disbelief. “No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s fucking not.”

Jake exhaled sharply through his nose, gripping your waist like he was trying to ground himself. “Baby,” he said, his voice so strained, “I was watching a fishing video.”

“And now we’re talking about something even more interesting,” you chirped, shifting in his lap just slightly.

Jake’s fingers flexed instantly. His grip on your waist tightened.

He exhaled through his nose again, sharper this time. “You are actually the worst,” he muttered, his jaw clenching.

You grabbed his hand, lifting it to your lips.

Jake immediately stopped breathing.

You kissed his fingertips softly, the warmth of your lips pressing against his skin before slowly, purposefully, slipping two of them into your mouth.

Sucking.

Jake let out a low, shaky breath. His entire body tensed.

His hand, which had been resting casually on your stomach just seconds ago, was now twitching in your grasp, his fingers pressing lightly against your tongue, his pulse quickening beneath your fingertips.

“…What are you doing?” he asked, voice dangerously lower.

You pulled his fingers out with a soft pop, tilting your head. “Getting them wet.”

Jake’s pupils dilated instantly.

His breath hitched as he swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His entire system was malfunctioning.

“For what?” he finally croaked, voice hoarse.

You guided his hand back down, slipping it beneath your waistband.

Jake’s breath hitched violently.

“Oh, fuck.”

His fingers twitched, and his entire body went rigid.

You turned your head slightly, your lips brushing his jaw. “Go on, Jakey.”

Jake let out a low, shaky exhale. “You are—” He cut himself off, sucking in a breath.

Then, after a second of pure hesitation, his fingers finally moved.

A soft whimper escaped you, and Jake lost it.

His arm tightened around your waist, his lips brushing against your temple. “You wanna talk about power?” he whispered. “Let’s test it.”

His fingers pressed deeper, teasing, purposeful, unhurried. He was taking his time, dragging the moment out just to see how long you could last.

Your hips jerked slightly, seeking more, but Jake just chuckled darkly.

“Patience, angel,” he murmured, so smug. “Since you wanted a full analysis, I think it’s only fair I take my time.”

His fingers dipped lower, spreading you apart as he dragged his touch through your slick. His movements were infuriatingly slow, feather-light strokes that had your thighs tensing instantly.

Jake hummed, his breath warm against your ear. “Shit, baby. You’re already this wet? Just from that?”

You bit your lip, breathing uneven.

His fingers stilled. “Use your words.”

You swallowed hard. “Y-yeah, Jakey.”

Jake let out a low groan, his lips pressing to the side of your neck. “Fuck. I should’ve known. My needy girl just loves being talked to, huh?”

You nodded quickly.

Jake chuckled darkly, his fingers suddenly pressing deeper, rubbing slow, deliberate circles.

Your breath hitched, your legs tensing.

“You’re so easy to ruin,” he muttered, his tone filled with pure, filthy amusement.

His fingers picked up the pace, dipping inside you before pressing back up to rub exactly where you needed. Your hips jerked helplessly, a soft moan spilling from your lips as you gripped his arm for support.

Jake smirked. “Oh, you love this, don’t you?”

And then, he ruined you.

His fingers pressed deep, rubbing fast, relentless, filthy, perfect. His free hand tightened around your stomach, holding you down against him as you squirmed helplessly.

Jake groaned, his voice low and pleased. “That’s it, angel,” he murmured. “Just like that. Let me feel you.”

Your stomach tightened as the pleasure crashed over you too fast to stop.

And when it was over, when you were spent and shaking in his arms, Jake just smirked, bringing his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean.

“Philosophy lesson’s over, angel,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Now you’re just mine.”

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧

Sunghoon had one simple goal: take a shower, relax, and get some goddamn peace.

But no. That was never an option when it came to you.

The second you waltzed into the bathroom, planted yourself on the closed toilet lid, and smirked up at him like you had something evil brewing in that brain of yours, he should’ve just turned around and walked straight out.

But instead, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face as he peeled off his shirt, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He should’ve ignored you.

But then—

“Babe, have I told you that you look suuuuuuper sexy right now?”

His fingers froze mid-motion on the waistband of his sweatpants. His entire body stiffened. Slowly, too slowly, he turned to look at you, his jaw already clenching.

He squinted, suspicious. “What do you want?”

You gasped, so dramatically, placing a hand over your chest like you were some old-timey actress in distress. “Why do you assume I want something?”

Sunghoon exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. He knew you. He knew exactly where this was going.

Your grin widened. “Can I ask you something?”

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “No.”

“You haven’t even heard it yet!” you pouted.

Another sigh. "Fine. What?"

You tilted your head, studying him like he was a puzzle you were trying to solve.

And then—you ruined his entire night.

"Why do you think I like it so much when you fuck me in the shower?"

Silence.

A long, painful, unbearable silence.

Sunghoon just stood there, blinking, processing, trying to comprehend the absolute nonsense you had just said.

Then, without a single word, he turned to the shower wall and banged his head against the tile.

"Are you fucking serious?"

You burst into laughter, delighted. "What? It's a valid question!"

His jaw clenched. His fists curled at his sides. He inhaled deeply, through his nose, struggling for self-restraint.

His patience was hanging by a thread.

“Why,” he muttered, voice painfully flat, "why the fuck would you ask me that right now?"

You shrugged, still grinning. “Just curious.”

His eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not. You’re trying to start shit.”

You giggled. “I’m not! I just think it’s interesting.”

Sunghoon dragged a hand through his hair, his muscles tensing, his biceps flexing slightly in frustration. “I hate you .”

"No, you don't," you chimed, voice way too smug.

Sunghoon tilted his head back against the tile, exhaling sharply, as if praying for patience.

And then, you made it worse.

You stretched, arching your back slightly, batting your lashes up at him, letting the steam from the running shower kiss your skin.

"You're so dense sometimes," you teased, voice syrupy-sweet, laced with pure mischief.

Sunghoon’s head snapped toward you instantly.

His eyes darkened. His fingers twitched.

You smirked. "Maybe I just want you to fuck me in the shower."

That was it.

That was the final straw.

Sunghoon full-body froze.

For a second, he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even breathe.

And then, his patience snapped.

In two quick strides, he was in front of you, gripping your wrist and yanking you up onto your feet. His other hand grasped the back of your neck, tilting your head up until your breath hitched.

His eyes? Dark. Sharp. Absolutely wrecked.

His thumb brushed along your jaw, teasing, firm, unforgiving.

"Say that again."

Your stomach flipped violently.

His grip on your waist tightened.

You smirked. "Maybe I just want you to f—"

You never got to finish your sentence.

Sunghoon grabbed you, lifted you effortlessly, and carried you straight into the shower.

Your scream of protest barely made it out before the water crashed over both of you, drenching you instantly.

And then—

"WAIT—LET ME TAKE MY BRA OFF FIRST!"

Sunghoon froze.

His grip on your thighs tightened slightly.

Then, slowly—so painfully slowly—he lifted his head, staring at you like you had just spoken a completely different language.

“…What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You whined, struggling in his grip, water dripping down your face. "Hoon, it's new! I don't wanna get it wet!"

Sunghoon let out the most exasperated laugh, shaking his head like he was physically restraining himself from throwing his head back in frustration.

"Baby. It’s just a bra.”

Your jaw dropped. "It is NOT just a bra!"

Sunghoon groaned, tilting his head back, breathing deeply like he was trying to find the strength to not completely combust.

Then, after a beat, his grip on you changed.

“I’ll buy you a new one,” he muttered, voice darker now, rougher, wrecked beyond belief.

Then, before you could even react, his mouth latched onto your collarbone, biting, teasing.

Your protest turned into a sharp gasp.

His hands slid up your soaked body, fingers hooking under the bra straps, dragging them down, his teeth grazing against your skin.

And then, he sucked.

Hard.

Your breath hitched violently, your back arching instinctively.

Sunghoon groaned against you, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud, teasing, tugging. His grip tightened, pressing you further into the tile.

"You're whining about a bra, but you're already falling apart," he muttered against your skin.

Your fingers clawed at his shoulders, legs trembling in his grasp. "H-Hoon—"

He grinned against your skin, completely in control now, completely in his element.

He licked a slow stripe over your nipple, sucking it into his mouth again.

Then, with a groan that sent heat pooling between your thighs, he sighed against your skin.

His mouth was fixated on your chest, his hands squeezing, kneading, his lips sucking bruises into your soft skin. His teeth scraped lightly, tongue flicking, mouth warm and wet as he groaned against your body.

His grip on your thighs tightened, pressing you further into the cool tile, the contrast of heat and cold making your breath hitch. He was obsessed, hyper-focused, like he was trying to commit every inch of you to memory.

And then—you ruined him all over again.

Between sharp gasps and breathy whimpers, you let out a teasing, mock-thoughtful hum.

"Hoon… if you had to choose, my tits or me… which one?"

Sunghoon’s movements completely stopped.

His teeth grazed over your nipple, pausing mid-bite. His fingers flexed against your waist, gripping you tighter. His breath stalled.

Then—so, so slowly—he lifted his head.

Water dripped from his soaked hair, running down his sharp jaw, over his kiss-swollen lips, and down the defined slope of his collarbones. His eyes flickered up, meeting yours—dark, dazed, completely wrecked.

And then, he let out the most exasperated groan of his life.

"Are you actually insane?"

You giggled, wiggling slightly in his grasp. “It’s a simple question.”

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched. His fingers dug into your thighs, holding you in place. He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes.

And then—just to make you suffer, he exhaled slowly, dragging his hands over your curves, squeezing your waist, before moving right back up to your chest.

His thumb brushed over your nipple lazily, teasing, deliberate. Then, he leaned in again, mouth hovering right over your skin, his breath warm, smirking against you.

"Hmm," he murmured, mock considering. "That’s actually a really hard choice, baby…"

Your stomach flipped violently.

He tilted his head, exhaling sharply through his nose, like he was really thinking about it. "I mean," he continued, squeezing your breasts again, licking a slow, teasing stripe over the sensitive skin, "on one hand, your tits are literally perfect."

His tongue flicked over your nipple, making your breath stutter.

"So soft, so fucking pretty, fit right in my hands," he groaned, his voice dropping lower, hungrier.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders. "Hoon—"

"But," he interrupted, grinning against your skin, pressing another wet, open-mouthed kiss, his teeth nipping at the skin right above your breast.

"You’re also really cute."

You snorted, shoving at his shoulder. "Really cute? That’s the best you’ve got?"

Sunghoon grinned, squeezing your thighs tighter. "I’m literally worshiping you in the shower, and you’re worried about my choice of words?"

You huffed. "You didn’t answer the question."

Sunghoon pulled back slightly, tilting his head, mock-considering again. Then, with zero shame, he muttered, "Honestly? …I might have to choose the tits."

Your jaw dropped. “HOON!”

He broke instantly, laughing against your skin, his grip on you tightening as you squirmed against him.

"I’m kidding, I’m kidding!" he choked out between laughs, pressing hot, teasing kisses back over your chest, dragging his tongue across every inch of skin he could reach.

Then, as he pulled you even closer, mouth ghosting over your ear, voice dripping with amusement and something darker, something heavier, he murmured—

"Don’t worry, baby."

He nipped at your earlobe, grinning against your skin.

"I’d never survive without you."

And then, he sank back down, lips wrapping around your nipple again, sucking deep and slow, like he was tasting something addictive.

This time, he looked up while he did it.

His big, dark eyes locked onto yours, wide and intense, watching every tiny shift in your expression. The moment your lips parted on a shaky moan, his grip tightened on your waist, his tongue flicking deliberately against the peak before closing his lips around it again, sucking harder.

His eyes never left your face.

Every time you gasped, every time your brows furrowed slightly in pleasure, he noticed. His breath came out faster, rougher, his pupils blown wide as if he was getting off on watching you unravel.

He pulled off with a wet pop, lips pink and glossy, tongue swiping over them as he tilted his head.

“Fuck.”

His voice was wrecked. Raspy. So deep it sent a sharp pulse straight through your core.

“You look so pretty when I do that,” he murmured.

His mouth was right back on you, sucking even harder, his eyes heavy-lidded, unwavering.

His fingers kneaded your other breast, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers, his hips pressing forward, pinning you completely against the tile.

The look on his face was pure hunger.

"I swear, I could do this forever, baby."

His voice was low, hoarse, slurred around his next breath. His thumb brushed over your nipple, teasingly slow. His lips pressed soft, wet kisses down the swell of your breast, dragging his teeth slightly as he went.

And then, as if the realization just hit him, he let out a soft groan, his head dropping briefly against your chest.

"God, I hate you," he muttered, his breath warm against your skin.

You let out a breathless laugh. "Yeah?"

Sunghoon lifted his head, grinning slightly, but his eyes were still dark, still drunk off you.

Then, with zero hesitation, he leaned down, kissing between your breasts, nipping lightly at your skin, before whispering—

"But I love your tits. I can’t live without them."

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐨𝐨

Sunoo was thrilled.

Not because of the movie playing on his laptop, not because he had finally gotten comfortable on the couch with his oversized blanket. No.

He was thrilled because you had just turned to him, eyes glinting with curiosity, and asked—

“Why do you think I like being praised so much?”

Sunoo blinked once.

Then, his entire face lit up.

“Oh, finally! A topic I actually care about!”

You snorted immediately. “What does that mean?”

Sunoo sat up straight, pulling the blanket off his shoulders like he was preparing for a TED Talk. “It means I have thoughts.”

Your lips twitched. “You’ve thought about this before?”

"Obviously." His tone was borderline offended. “Baby, do you realize how much you fish for compliments? If I don’t tell you you’re pretty at least three times a day, you start getting restless.”

You gasped, scandalized. “I do NOT!”

Sunoo arched a brow.

You pouted. “…Maybe a little.”

He grinned, smug. “See? And that’s why I already have a theory.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Alright, genius. Enlighten me.”

Sunoo’s eyes practically sparkled.

“It’s because you like validation, but not just any validation—you like earned validation.”

Your brows furrowed. “Go on.”

Sunoo tilted his head, clearly enjoying this way too much. “See, if I tell you you’re beautiful just because, you’ll accept it—but if I tell you that you’re beautiful because you just made me lose my mind in bed? That’s what gets you going.”

You froze.

Sunoo smirked immediately. “Ohhh, I’m right, aren’t I?”

You swallowed. “…Continue.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice turning softer, smoother. “You don’t just want to hear that you’re good at something—you want proof. You want me to tell you how good you are, how perfect you are, while I’m literally falling apart because of you.”

Your entire body felt like it was heating up.

Sunoo’s eyes gleamed. “You want to be the best. You want to feel like you’re irreplaceable.”

You bit your lip, suddenly very aware of how close he was getting.

And then, as if he was reading your mind, he smiled sweetly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

“You like being praised because you like knowing you’re ruining me.”

Your breath hitched.

And Sunoo caught it immediately.

His smirk turned positively sinful. “See? I told you I was right.”

You swallowed, trying to recover, but the knowing glint in his eyes had you spiraling. “Okay, fine. Maybe you have a point.”

Sunoo grinned, entirely too satisfied.

Then, just to push you further, he tilted his head, watching you closely. “Do you want me to prove it?”

Your entire body shivered.

And that was all the confirmation he needed.

Sunoo was still sitting, his posture perfectly relaxed, but his eyes? His eyes told a different story. They were dark, glinting with something sharp, something playful, something completely devastating.

And you?

You were fully spiraling.

Your breath hitched, barely noticeable, but Sunoo caught it immediately. His lips twitched into the softest smirk, like he was already celebrating his victory.

Then, with the slowest, most deliberate movement possible, he reached forward, his fingers brushing against your chin, tilting your face up slightly.

“You’re quiet all of a sudden,” he mused, voice velvety smooth, teasing.

Your heart slammed against your ribs. “I—I’m just…” You swallowed. “Thinking.”

Sunoo smirked. “Mm. Thinking.”

And then, without warning, he closed the space between you.

The first kiss was soft, teasing, just a hint of pressure. Just enough to make your breath stutter.

But then?

Then he tilted his head slightly, deepening it—just barely.

And that was your first mistake.

Because the second your body melted into him, the second your fingers gripped onto his sweater slightly, he smiled into the kiss—fully in control, fully aware of the power he had over you.

His hand slid up your jaw, fingers pressing lightly at the hinge, guiding you into the kiss the way he wanted.

Slow. Controlled. Completely devastating.

When he finally pulled back slightly, his lips were already kiss-swollen, his breath uneven.

But his eyes?

Smug. So, so smug.

“You like it when I take my time, don’t you?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

Your stomach flipped violently.

Sunoo grinned. “That’s what I thought.”

And then, before you could even respond, he was on you again.

This time, no hesitation, no teasing.

Just deep, soul-stealing kisses, his lips moving against yours slow and deliberate, as if he was savoring every second.

His free hand slid down, gripping your waist, pulling you closer, until you were practically pressed against him.

You let out a soft, breathless sound, and that was all it took.

Sunoo groaned softly against your lips, his fingers tightening on your waist as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss even further.

His tongue traced along your bottom lip, slow, unhurried, teasing, and when you gasped softly, he swallowed the sound immediately, taking full control of the kiss.

And just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, he pulled away—just barely, just enough to make you chase his lips.

His breath fanned against your mouth, his lips grazing yours as he whispered—

“See, baby?”

His fingers slid along your jaw, tilting your chin up slightly, forcing you to meet his eyes.

“You love it when I praise you.”

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

It had been one of those weeks. Jungwon was exhausted, and all he wanted was a night of uninterrupted sleep. But you had other plans.

You’d been tossing and turning beside him for nearly half an hour, sighing loudly, shifting closer and closer as if waiting for him to acknowledge you. He didn’t. He stayed still, kept his eyes shut, and prayed you’d get tired and fall asleep.

Instead, you whispered, “Jungwon?”

He ignored you.

“Jungwon,” you tried again, your voice sweet and teasing.

A sharp sigh escaped him, and finally, he muttered, “What.”

You smiled, pressing yourself closer. “Can we talk about something?”

“No,” he said flatly, eyes still closed.

“But it’s important.”

“It’s never important.” His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge to it.

“You don’t even know what it is yet,” you said, undeterred.

Jungwon opened his eyes just enough to glare at you. His expression was entirely unamused, but the annoyance in his face was matched with a weariness that made his sharp tone almost flat. “Fine,” he muttered. “What is it?”

You bit your lip, trailing your fingers lightly over his stomach. “It’s about sex.”

He stilled, his hand twitching against the blanket. “…What about it.”

“I’ve been thinking,” you said, drawing out your words as you brushed your nails down his chest, “about why I always want you to fuck me until I cry.”

His jaw clenched, his body going rigid. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Didn’t move. Then, with an exaggerated exhale, he rolled over and faced the wall.

You gasped. “Oh my God. You’re actually ignoring me?”

“Yes.”

“But I need you.”

“You always need me.”

“And you love it.”

Jungwon let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard. After another moment of silence, he rolled onto his back again, dragging a hand down his face. His eyes were half-lidded, heavy with exhaustion and exasperation.

“You have no self-control,” he muttered.

You grinned. “Mhm.”

He shook his head. “No, because let’s really talk about this. You’re constantly like this. Always touching me, always saying things like that. Do you have any idea how impossible you make my life?”

You giggled softly, your fingers moving lower. “I do.”

“That wasn’t a compliment,” he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

“But you love me.”

“…Unfortunately.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience hanging by a thread. “I have been told I have a very high sex drive, but baby, I do not have the facilities to go three times a day. I have things to do. I need sleep. I need to—”

His voice cut off mid-sentence as he noticed where your hand had gone. His gaze dropped, and his lips parted slightly as he registered the slow, deliberate circles you were making against yourself.

“Are you seriously doing that right now?” he asked, his voice low and clipped.

You smirked, letting out a soft moan. “Mhm.”

Jungwon’s jaw tightened. His hand shot out, grabbing your wrist and pulling it away. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, his voice quiet and controlled. “You really have no shame, do you?”

His free hand trailed down to your thigh, pausing just at the edge of your hip. “You’ve made my life difficult every single day this week. And now you’re doing this.” His fingers brushed against you lightly, making you shiver. “Fine. If you’re going to be this much of a problem, then count every single time you’ve made things harder for me.”

“Count?” you repeated, your breath catching.

“Count,” he ordered, his voice calm but firm. He paused just long enough for you to hesitate before delivering a sharp slap against your center.

You gasped, your back arching slightly at the sudden sting.

“One,” you murmured, your voice unsteady.

Jungwon hummed softly, satisfied. “Good. Now keep going. Let’s start with Monday—when you woke me up two hours early because you were ‘bored.’ I told you to wait until I was actually awake, but you just wouldn’t stop until I gave in.”

Another slap.

“Two.”

“Tuesday,” he continued, his voice still low and even, though his grip on your wrist remained firm. “I had a meeting, and you climbed onto my lap, whispering in my ear, making it impossible to focus. You knew exactly what you were doing.”

The slap that followed was harder this time, the sharp sound echoing through the room.

“Three.”

He tilted his head slightly, his gaze steady on you. “Wednesday. I was trying to work, and you walked in wearing that shirt you know drives me insane. You didn’t even have a reason—just stood there, stretching, pretending not to notice what it did to me.”

Another slap, this one leaving you breathless.

“Four.”

“Thursday,” Jungwon continued, his tone remaining measured. “I came home late, exhausted, ready to collapse. But you were waiting in bed, saying you couldn’t sleep, that you missed me, that you needed me—like I didn’t have the right to rest after a long day.”

The next slap made you whimper, and you barely managed to whisper the number.

“Five.”

“And Friday,” he said, his voice calm and thoughtful, as though he were simply recounting facts. “You walked in while I was on the phone, saying the filthiest things in my ear, completely throwing me off.”

Another slap, another gasp, another quiet number.

“Six.”

Jungwon smirked faintly, his expression unreadable as he leaned down, his breath warm against your ear. “Six times,” he murmured. “Six times this week you’ve pushed me too far. I wonder how many more it’ll take before you finally learn.”

And then, without warning, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck before he parted them. A single strand of saliva dripped from his mouth, landing directly where his hand had just been. The warmth of it sent a shiver through you, and your thighs instinctively shifted.

Jungwon watched your reaction, his gaze dark. “You don’t listen,” he muttered, his thumb moving to spread the wetness over your heated skin. “But that’s fine. I’ll just have to remind you again.”

With that, he leaned down further, his mouth finding its way to your skin. His lips pressed lightly, his tongue dragging along the sensitive area. And when he finally took you in his mouth, the warmth, the pressure—it was too much. Your breathing quickened, your hands clenching the sheets as he worked, his actions slow, deliberate, and relentless.

Jungwon pulled back slightly, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He glanced up at you, his expression still composed, though his eyes burned with intensity. “You’ll count properly next time,” he said quietly, his tone steady, “or we’ll just keep going until you do.”

𝐍𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐤𝐢

The private court was quiet, except for the sound of sneakers skidding across the pavement, the steady rhythm of the basketball bouncing, and the occasional swoosh of a perfect shot hitting the net.

It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

Because you were bored out of your mind.

At first, you had been entertained—watching Riki drip with sweat, his muscles flexing subtly under his shirt, his jaw clenched in focus as he moved effortlessly across the court. You could’ve sat there for hours.

But now?

Now you were kicking at the pavement, sprawling yourself dramatically across the bench, watching him ignore you like it was his job.

You sighed loudly. "Ni-ki."

“Mmm.” He didn’t even glance at you, lining up another shot.

You huffed. "I’m bored."

“Okay,” he said, still not looking.

Your eye twitched. “That’s it?”

He smirked slightly, dribbling the ball lazily. “What do you want me to do? Call the circus to entertain you?”

“I don’t know,” you grumbled, watching as he effortlessly sunk another shot before catching the ball again.

Riki finally turned, spinning the ball in his hands, giving you the laziest grin. “You literally begged to come watch me play.”

“Yeah, because I thought you'd be entertaining,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Instead, I’m just sitting here, staring at you running around in circles.”

He grinned. “So basically, you just like watching me be hot.”

You snorted. “I mean… yeah.”

Riki’s smirk widened. “I knew it.”

You rolled your eyes, but then, an idea hit you.

A terrible, wonderful, completely deranged idea.

“Actually,” you started, stretching your arms above your head, watching him carefully, “I have a question.”

Riki blinked, dribbling absently. "Why do I feel like this is about to be something weird?"

You ignored him. “Why do you think I like it so much when you spit in my mouth?”

Silence.

Riki’s hands literally stopped moving. The ball bounced off his foot and rolled away.

Very, very slowly, he turned to stare at you, expression completely blank.

“…I’m sorry?”

You grinned. “Like, psychologically. What do you think it means?”

His mouth opened. Then closed. Then opened again.

Nothing came out.

You waited. Smiling. Expectant.

Riki exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”

You gasped, mock-offended. “That’s rude! It’s a normal question!”

“That is not a normal question!” He threw his hands up, fully spiraling now. “Who the hell sits courtside, watches their boyfriend play basketball, and then just—just casually wonders about the deeper meaning of spit kinks?!”

You shrugged, completely unbothered. “I just think it’s interesting.”

Riki rubbed his temples like you were giving him a migraine. “Jesus Christ.”

Then, after a long pause, he squinted at you. “…So, do you actually want an answer?”

You grinned. “Obviously.”

Riki groaned, shaking his head. "You're actually insane."

But then—he actually thought about it.

“…Okay, fine.” He crossed his arms, looking at you like you were a science experiment. "You like being spit in because you’re gross."

You rolled your eyes. "Okay, Mr. Psychology Degree."

He smirked. "No, seriously. It’s the ownership thing, isn’t it? It’s about control. You like it because it’s filthy and degrading, and that’s what gets you off."

Your stomach flipped violently.

Riki caught it immediately.

His grin widened. "Ohhh, that’s totally it."

You crossed your arms, trying to play it cool. “I—maybe. Continue.”

He tilted his head, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “It’s primal, isn’t it? Something about me doing something so demeaning, but you still loving it. Like you’d take anything I give you.”

Your thighs pressed together involuntarily.

And of course, Riki saw.

His smirk turned wicked.

"You like it," he murmured, stepping forward, bouncing the basketball once before letting it roll away.

Your back straightened. “I never said that.”

"You didn’t have to," he said smoothly.

Then, before you could react, he grabbed your wrist, yanking you up from the bench effortlessly.

You let out a surprised squeak, your hands instinctively pressing against his chest.

"Riki—"

"Shh," he murmured, backing you up until your spine hit the court wall.

Your pulse skyrocketed.

His arms caged you in, his body pressed just barely against yours, not touching but close enough that you could feel his warmth.

"So," he mused, tilting his head, his eyes flicking between yours. "You like it when I’m in control, huh?"

Your breath caught.

Riki grinned, teasing. "What was that thing you said earlier? You like it when I spit in your mouth?"

Your face burned. "I didn’t say I liked it—"

"Oh, no, no, baby," he murmured, leaning in, lips ghosting over yours, breath hot and sweet. "You love it."

You whimpered.

Riki’s grin widened. "Should I prove it?"

Your stomach flipped so hard you nearly collapsed.

And before you could answer, his hand tilted your chin up, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

His eyes darkened, lips parting slightly as he ran his thumb along your tongue.

"Open," he murmured.

And when you did?

He spat, slow, deliberate, watching with parted lips as it slid over your tongue.

And then, just to make it worse, he whispered—

"Swallow, baby."

Your head spun.

And before you could even process what was happening, his lips crashed against yours.

The kiss was hot, messy, completely unhinged.

His hands slid down, gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him, until you were trapped between his body and the cold wall of the private court.

You gasped softly, and Riki swallowed the sound immediately, deepening the kiss just enough to make your legs weak.

"See?" he muttered against your lips, his voice dripping with amusement.

"You just like letting me win."

Then, with zero hesitation, his hands slipped lower, gripping your thighs.

And before you could say another word, he lifted you effortlessly, pinning you against the wall completely.

The feeling of his hot breath against your neck, the firm press of his body against yours, the way he had you completely at his mercy. It all proved his

979 notes · View notes

rafesangelita · 1 day ago

Text

♡ what happens when the man you’ve been having anonymous phone sex with asks you to come over to his place so you two could have a date of your own?

warnings: mean!rafe, enemies to ???, brief descriptions of phone sex, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, mutual pining, praise, orgasm control, orgasm denial, degradation, flirty banter

a/n: this is part three of this mini series! thank you so much for all the love on this series so far, i wasn’t expecting such an outpoor of support <3 if you ask to be added to the taglist and i don’t reply, don’t worry!! i promise i’ve seen it and have added you!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 2.8k

“..you sound pretty.”

you froze, the slightly familiar voice sending a shiver down your spine. “who’s this?” you swallowed thickly, already having a gut feeling. “you know who i am.” with a demeaning tone like that, you only had one guess. “so out of all of the usernames you could’ve came up with; ‘country club’ was the one that stuck?” rafe smiled to himself before taking a drink from the liquor in his glass. he was alone on the druthers now with nothing but you on his mind, along with his mystery girl that he never stopped thinking about.

“it’s just a nickname a friend of mine gave me,” he explained, “no one else knows me by it so that’s why i chose it.” you hummed, a hint of curiosity piquing your interest. “really? who?” you asked him in a poor attempt to get something out of him. “ah, you wouldn’t know him. he’s from the cut.” now you were really interested. “the cut? how did you end up being friends with someone from over there?”

rafe was quiet for a few moments.

“it’s a long story. i think you’d find out who i am if i told you about it.” you tried to think about any drama or gossip that chanel may have filled you in about at some point but ultimately came up empty handed. “i see..” deciding to change the subject, you asked him about something that actually had relevance. “so what had you so wrapped up earlier?” rafe sighed, your pictures from earlier flashing in his mind.

“i was on a date— if you could even call it that,” he laughed, “the amount of bitchy attitude this girl throws at me every time i see her is crazy.” you ignored the spark of jealousy that lit up in your core, your eyes narrowing as you thought of all the things he could’ve been doing with someone else that wasn’t you.

rafe had a very specific reason for bringing someone else up and just like he had hoped, you fell right into his trap. “yeah? you should probably call her and talk to her instead.” you were quick with your remark, rolling your eyes before settling underneath your plush comforter.

“i think i already am.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a sense of panic washing over you as you thought about your earlier encounter with rafe. could you really be the girl that quote unquote ‘throws bitchy attitude at him every time you see him’? it would be hard to tell considering you threw bitchy attitude towards everyone, but still, his words caused your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. “no, that’s impossible.” to be in denial when you two were this far along in your arrangement was simply delusional, but you couldn’t help but deny his theory.

“you think so?” he sat back in his seat overlooking the water. “i know so. cause i went on a date tonight as well.. and i personally find the guy insufferable— hot, definitely, but insufferable nonetheless, and i’d like to think that if me and you have ever talked or interacted in person we’d at least get along in some way.” now it was rafe’s turn to feel jealousy burn through his chest at the mention of you going on a date with someone else other than him.

“you went on a date?” the calm tone in his voice was now replaced by assertiveness, his jaw clenching as he imagined you getting all dolled up for some loser. “yes.” you don’t know why, but you felt like you had did something wrong. “and you said he was hot?” rafe downed the rest of his drink, pouring himself another shortly after. “yes..” you answered again, a hint of a smile playing on your lips, “i’d fuck him even though i told him it would never happen.” if rafe couldn’t understand what was so similar between you and his personal internet slut then, he definitely knew what it was now. you had to be her.

rafe thought about your words from earlier.

“why i don’t like you, or why i won’t let you fuck me?”

you had such a smart mouth on you, the only thing rafe could think about was how he’d shut you up by filling your throat up with his cock. “it’s funny you say that. i could’ve sworn my brat of a ‘date’ said the same thing to me.” suddenly you felt like you were in enemy territory, every single one of your sensible instincts urging you to hang up the phone. “uhm—” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “i wonder if she has any idea that i’d fuck her senseless if only she’d let me.” your mind drifted off to rafe again, and the way he was looking at you before you left; as if he knew you something you didn’t.

“tell her that next time you talk to her.” you shot back, rolling your eyes as he muttered a ‘i will.’

deciding to move into the cabin inside the druthers, rafe slid the door shut behind him before be turned the lights off, a groan leaving his lips as he took a seat on the couch. “so why’d you call me? you know, since you’re obviously interested in someone else.” rafe scoffed, rolling the tension out of his shoulders before blinking up at the ceiling. he was amused by everything that came out of your mouth. “i’m not interested in anyone else. i think i have you figured out, and if i’m right then this couldn’t be anymore perfect.”

rafe imagined you being the one on the phone with him right now, your hand in between your thighs as you got off to the sound of his voice. he imagined you wearing nothing, those pretty tits of yours on full display. “and if you’re wrong?” you teased. “i’m not. i can’t be.” while you had no idea who he could be envisioning, you had no problem waiting for the day to prove him right or otherwise. “i guess we’ll just have to play the waiting game until we can’t anymore..” rafe hummed in agreement. “well that won’t be very long then.”

you hoped not.

there was a beat of silence before rafe’s voice sounded through your receiver. “sooo.. what are you wearing right now?” you groaned, the cliché and overused line making you shake your head. “you have seriously got to come up with something better to initiate this,” you fiddled with the string of your robe, “but i’ll work with you just this once.” if only you could see the look on rafe’s face right now. “sorry i’m not an experienced phone sex expert, i prefer my sexual encounters in person.” he laughed when you cursed under your breath. “ugh, goodnight.”

while rafe thought you were joking, you had really hung up on him, leaving him both turned on and frustrated.

[10:57 PM] brattydiaries: 1 attachment

[10:57 PM] brattydiaries: and to think.. i really wanted to touch myself. oh well, i’ll see you around ‘country club’

rafe was pissed when he opened your message and saw a picture of you completely naked in your silk robe, his cock stirring at the sight. he could’ve had you rubbing your clit by now if only he would’ve went easy with the remarks.

[11:00 PM] countryclub: you’re gonna make me work hard for it aren’t you.

[11:01 PM] brattydiaries: oh, you have no idea.

and that’s exactly what rafe did. he was persistent, making sure to call you every single night after that until you finally approved of his efforts. he knew from the moment he heard you moan on the phone that it was all worth it.

“f-fuckk, i can’t!” you cried out in frustration as rafe denied you another orgasm. you’ve been at this for an hour now, your panties drenched with your arousal as he taunted you on the other line. “yes you fucking can, you don’t cum until i let you, you understand?” you huffed, your clit aching with sensitivity as you shuddered at his words. “you made me wait all this time to get you like this, you can hold out just a little bit more for me.” rafe grunted, his own hand palming himself through his boxers.

you shuddered, your eyes fluttering shut as he told you all about the things he’d do if he had you there with him. “i’d fucking wreck you, baby,” he moaned, thinking about fucking you to tears until you couldn’t handle it, “fuck’ that attitude right out of you and get you all pathetic and desperate. just like you are right now.” you were at the point where you couldn’t even touch yourself anymore, your orgasm being just in arm’s reach. “please!” you whimpered, your thighs trembling with the need to let go, “i’ve come close so many times already.”

as odd as it may sound, rafe hasn’t let himself cum ever since you two started having phone sex. messaging each other and sending pictures was different— but now that he had your voice in his ears, it made everything feel real. he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let himself finish until he had you in the palms of his hands. maybe it was a way for him to torture himself, but he was determined to make it happen. you were going to be his no matter how long it’d take.

“you’ve gotten so good at begging me for it, you don’t even put up a fight with me anymore.” rafe laughed, thinking about all the times that you were the one turning him down, now you found yourself being completely at his mercy. “..fuck you.” you whined, writhing under your sheets. “soon enough.” rafe whispered, still listening to your pleads. “i could make myself cum right now,” you said breathlessly, “..and you wouldn’t even be able to stop me.” rafe’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“do that and you won’t hear from me for three weeks straight. thank god for a block button, right?” you scoffed, your chest rising and falling as you rubbed your thighs together. “matter of fact.. just for that poor excuse of a threat, you’re not cumming at all.” you didn’t get to rebuttal before he hung up, your eyes widening before you groaned. asshole.

“okay, i love our little bottomless mimosa dates but i’m still recovering from last night.” chanel laughed, adjusting the sunnies on her nose. you and your group of girlfriends were out on the patio at the country club, your table filled with fruity drinks and half empty glasses. “oh my god, you should’ve been there, y/n! it got so crazy that someone called the cops and the whole thing had to get shut down.”

you were only paying half attention to what was being said, majority of your focus being.. elsewhere. specifically— rafe out on the golf field, his skin glistening with sweat as the blazing outer banks sun beat down on him. “it sounds crazy.” you hummed, nodding even though you only heard the first half of chanel’s sentence. she eyed you, following your line of vision before a smug grin pulled at her lips.

“so.. how come you’ve been m.i.a?” just as rafe looked up to meet your gaze, you snapped out of your reverie, blinking away. “forreal, it’s like you’ve disappeared these past few weeks.” you looked around at your friends, a nervous laugh escaping from you. how do you even explain to anyone— let alone your best friends, that you haven’t been to any parties or hangouts because you’re too busy getting talked through your third, sometimes fourth, orgasm of the night?

it’s simple; you don’t.

“i’ve been doing a lot of stuff for my parents. it just gets so tiring sometimes, you know?” chanel knew you were lying, but that was a conversation for another time. thankfully, no one questioned you any further and you were free to look back at the man who, for some reason unbeknownst to you, has been plaguing your mind. ever since your little awkward debacle on his boat, you two hadn’t really interacted with one another except the weird lingering stares you’d catch each other doing. you’d be lying if you said things didn’t feel a little bland without having him around as much.

“i’ll be right back.” you excused yourself, swinging your purse over your shoulder as you made your way inside. taking a seat at the empty bar, you looked around cautiously before opening your tumblr messages.

[3:08 PM] brattydiaries: i have on a super short skirt today.. maybe you could catch me somewhere

you stared at the screen for a minute, hoping he’d answer right away before you sighed to yourself and rested your chin in your hand. apart of you couldn’t help but feel bad. you should be outside with your friends right now, engaging in the latest island drama and raving about celebrity gossip but instead you’re here at a bar all by yourself feeling pathetic as ever because you couldn’t help but grow semi-attached to this ‘countryclub’ guy.

“can i buy you something to drink?” you looked up at rafe as he took a seat next to you, his large frame still towering over you even while he was sitting down. your heart started beating in your ears at the close proximity, your eyebrows pinching together at the overwhelming feeling currently swimming in your tummy. you never got nervous in front of guys, but all of a sudden rafe’s thigh is brushing against yours and now you’re shy? gross.

“i was just leaving actually.” you cleared your throat, avoiding the burn of his stare on the side of your face as you quickly scooted out from your chair. you didn’t even get to get up before rafe pushed your seat back in. “i wanna talk to you.” he sounded like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, the firmness in his tone making you swallow thickly. staring at him for a few moments, you obliged, but not before ordering the most expensive thing on the drink menu.

“so what do you want?” you faced him, watching as he downed his scotch. “i, uhm— are you busy this weekend?” arching a brow, you thanked the bartender once he slid your overly dressed up cocktail in front of you. “yes, very.” no, you weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “well.. i would really appreciate it if you could make the time to come over to my place, ‘say around seven?” you blinked, not understanding clearly. “what’s the occasion?” you asked confusingly. “no, not a party. just us two.”

that grabbed your attention immediately. you sat there, replaying his words in your head until it finally registered. “just us? at your house this weekend at seven o’clock?” he nodded. “i already told you i’m never having sex with you, rafe.” the man in front of you rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. “god, y/n,” he groaned, “as much as you’re breaking my heart right now, that’s not the reason why i’m inviting you over.” you giggled at the annoyed expression on his face, flipping your hair over your shoulder as he glared at you intently.

“so what’s the reason then? why would i ever go over to your place, rafe? enlighten me. please.” while rafe was secretly hoping you’d just agree and go on with your day, he should’ve known you weren’t going to be easy to obtain. sighing, he leaned in closer, his chest brushing the side of your shoulder. “look; last time we were by ourselves you told me that you didn’t like me because i was talking about you first, which by the way— i want to apologize for,” he started, “i feel like we got off on the wrong foot and i wanna start over.” you turned your head, his face just inches away from your own.

“i should’ve never said anything about you without knowing you first.” you two stayed silent for what felt like an eternity before you softly nudged him away. “okay, i get it, you don’t have to get all softie on me, rafe.” the corner of his lips tugged into a smile when he saw how flustered you got. “is that a yes?” you almost lost it when his fingers brushed yours, your stomach bursting with buttetflies at the small action. “fine,” you sighed, “but i still don’t like you.” rafe blinked slowly, restraining himself from jumping out of his chair. “that’s fine, i’m not asking you to.”

just as you were going to smart mouth him, your phone dinged! with a message from chanel. “well thanks for the drink, i’m going back out.” rafe watched you get up, his eyes trailing down your figure until they settled on your bare legs, your heels clicking against the floor as you walked off. “hey, y/n?” you spun around at the sound of his voice, muttering a ‘what?!’ before he winked.

“cute skirt.”

taglist: @meallan01 @sf1738 @emeloyy @hmmshhhh @chelzaa @starkeycore @liyah4evaaaa @hnybitches @urbimom @kittenjujusblog @femaholicc @lil-sparklqueen @yktayy9669 @matthewswifeyy @icaqttt @jjasmiineee @lilithblackkk @rafecameronswhoore @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @ditzyzombiesblog @i-love-gvf @blondrafe @wolf-2005 @brianquinnlvr @lightbluebaby @jkrafe @lovemaybankk @xcinnamonmalfoyx @drewstarkeysbabe @issues4him @dahliaparton @slut-4-gojo @luvagirlsworld @nemesyaaa @jwdiaries @midsoulz @drewstarkeyzwhore @urmotherlvr @chillgal135 @wtfisastiles @dollyfiles @annaconscience @rafesluvr @locallyhateddoll @acidfeens @cherubfille @whathechickenstrip @my-name-is-baby @wtfdudesblog @atjlovverr

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tojisteddy · 19 hours ago

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Sweet Ride | smut, 18+ MDNI, 1.2k words, softdom!Toji x sweetheart!reader

You’d been 3 months into your relationship when Toji Fushiguro finally realized that you, for some odd reason, loved letting idiots fuck you.

It must’ve been where that very minuscule masochism kink came from. Had to be.

He’d noticed the way you’d get shocked when he went to pay for— well- everything. Didn’t matter if he lost a shit ton from gambling and losing that day, didn’t matter if you went over your own set budget, didn’t matter that you didn’t ask because you didn’t want to look money hungry or if you quickly pulled out your card and paid. He’s sending $300 to you to make up for it. The man. Was going. To pay.

Toji also noticed the way you’d shy away when you realized he was actually listening to the words that came out of your mouth. Informing you that he hated that coworker of Sherl just a little bit more than you did. Plainly telling you ‘no’, he didn’t just want to see just your hair bone straight- he wanted to see your curly hair that framed your face (when you wanted to of course) and that he thought you would look good with any hair color not just the jet black. Or when you only went to make food that he liked,

“But this is what my ex-“

“—Mama, what do you really wanna eat? Tell me or we’ll both starve tonight.”

Truthfully, it irritated the fuck out of the man.

He didn’t get it, how someone so precious got treated like shit on multiple occasions. He kept reminding himself that you weren’t the problem, those fucking dick wads were.

But the irritation jumped back out when you rode him. He knew after that first time (just a week ago) that those fucking idiots didn’t know what the fuck to do with you. He’d cock his eyebrow up at you because he simply couldn’t hide the vexation of it all.

“You don’t like it Toj?” Your voice was hoarse, curls falling over your face, a pout forming.

It was clear the way you moved your hips back and forth, held yourself and didn’t use him for leverage, you rode your ex’s to get them off and nothing more.

More sins against God.

There had to be a scripture about it somewhere, “Never let thou spouse ride-ith you in cowgirl without her cumming.” Or something— the man didn’t know. He knew for a fact, only a bitch would never let a woman cum while she’s riding him.

“Toji? ‘M sorry, it must not be good.” You let out a shaky breath, trying to relax, not be too touchy. “ ‘S just harder cause you’re so… so big. ‘Nd I- fuck- mmm- don’t think I’ve ever had time to relax like this. I must be takin too long.”

Shit, you frowned, big brown puppy eyes looking down at the green eyed monster and his heart ached. He nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck, his poor pretty baby. Sweet doll, don’t you worry your little head. Your Toji would fix this little problem tonight.

And when you two were done, he’d beat the fucking breaks out of each and every single one your exes.

It would cleanse the soul.

“ ‘S okay baby, yer doin good. Need you to relax f’me. Want you to take a little bit more though, hm? You can take it, right? You’re a good girl.”

You bit your lip, nodding in agreement.

Such a good girl. Toji’s sweet ‘nd good girl.

Tojis hands pulled you closer. “How do I get ya to relax then? Can you tell me?” You felt your cheeks heat up, shaking your head and attempting to hide yourself in his neck. But Toji kept you still, playfully bumping your foreheads together with a chuckle.

“Let’s find out then,” His hands wandered, up and down your sides, then one staying at the small of your back, the other making its way to your pretty tit in his hand. Slowly massaging it in his palm. “Maybe you like it here?”

You whimpered in his mouth and Tojis scar moved upward in amusement, green eyes low. He left a trail of kiss from your cute cheeks, down to your jaw. “Or here?” Down to your neck, taking a few nibblies here and there. “Or here?”

You let out a soft moan, finally nodding your head.

“Words, mama.” He was stern but you felt the grin against your neck.

“T-there feels— feels so nice Toj.” The man hummed at your words, being sure to praise you with an array of kisses and hickeys for the world to see tomorrow on your neck.

“I-I can move now?” You asked. You felt so full with what he was giving you, but you felt so good with every little kiss the aching tip and veins of his member gave to your walls.

“Course doll.” He enterwinted your fingers, “Gotta take it nice ‘nd slow baby, don’t gotta go fast.”

You gulped, gradually lifting yourself up and down and rocking your hips back and forth, then repeating the motion. Your hands left his large ones, starting to use his shoulders as leverage, “There you go ma, there you fuckin go.”

He hissed, you were a god damn waterfall down there. Toji didn’t even know how the fuck you were still managing to keep him insider everytime you’d move up so just the tip was in, and slamming back down. When you tried to go faster a large calloused hand came down to your ass.

“B-but Tojiii,” you whined, slowly swiveling your hips one time to get a curse out of him. “Wanna make you feel good too.”

“ ‘Nd I ‘ppreciate Doll, I do. You feel so fuckin good too ma, but it’s not about me tonight, ‘s about you. Need you to really feel it deep in your pretty pussy.” He gave you a few thrusts, matching your rhythm creating the most beautiful smack smack smack your bedroom has ever heard.

“Take what you need babygirl.”

Toji had a way with words, he’d gotten a pornographic moan from it alone. Your nails dug into his shoulders, the meat of your thighs jiggling every time you came down. Slick drenching Toji’s cock, your thighs were burning but you kept moving. Chasing your high with every bounce on his fat fuck.

“Goooood girl, now you got it doll.”

“I can— I can take more Toji.” You stammered out.

“I’d loooove that sweetheart— shit ma- but not tonight. Ngh— This is just enough.”

“But—“

“-Aht,” he grumbled, helping you move your hips as you got just a tad too slow for his liking, “don’t bite more than you can chew. Come on, you can make yourself and your boyfriend cum, can’t you?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you were grinding and slamming yourself down what you could take as hard as ever getting a loud from Toji. You were such a good and fast leaner, the man would have to keep you. Train you to do other things, soon enough you’d be able to take all of him. You were fucking pulsing like a over worked heartbeat around him as a wave of emotions smacked you over the head, a string of fuck fuck fuck and Toji Toji Toji leaving your mouth.

The man growled, giving your ass a few harsh smacks as he rapidly thrust into you. You never knew when you were cumming so you never vocalized it.

You’d work on that too.

Quickly pulling out, spurts of his cum hit your stomach. You both were panting messes, Toji’s pink lips meeting your temple, then your soft full lips.

“Good fuckin job, mama.”

a/n: ride the dragon by fka twigs

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thevibraniumveterans · 2 days ago

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Bucky’s choice of clothing and outfits this movie is a bit fascinating, actually.

(I don’t know if I’ve talked about this before but whatever)

First, a little flashback to the conversation he had with Sam in TFATWS Ep5 “Truth”:

Sam: “Let me ask you. You still having those nightmares?”

Bucky: “All the time. It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier’s still in me.”

(Note, this is despite his mandated “I’m no longer the Winter Soldier” bit and his reluctantly-adopted moniker of White Wolf (that nobody outside of Sam and Wakanda knows), but this isn’t about that)

Flash forward to the Thunderbolts* trailers and promotional posters, we see that Bucky is in black-colored civilian clothing for most of the time.

In some shots we see him in a jacket. He accessorizes with a back/shoulder holster. I have no clue where he got that one from, we’ve never seen him with one of those before. There is a weapon, likely a big gun, in said holster.

In other shots he’s in a simple short sleeved t-shirt. This is actually pretty good of a development because he started wearing t-shirts (without the long sleeve shirt on the inside) in TFATWS, which means he doesn’t carry a super heavy burden with him anymore. Sure, it’s a black t-shirt, also likely the same if not a similar one he wore in TFATWS (Ep4, I think?). It’s kind of telling that he’s got full control over every action he takes but yet he still has a dark past that he can’t escape from.

Gloves. It’s not unusual for Bucky to be wearing gloves, it’s just that this is kind of the first time we see this specific combo of short sleeves and gloves. Kinda neat.

His utility belt. It is EXACTLY the same one he wore during his Winter Soldier days. Attached to said belt are some canisters, a pouch or two, and a thigh holster for his right leg. The fact that he pairs this utility belt with his casual civilian outfit — making him stand out against his fellow costumed antiheroes — suggests that it is, as Sebastian Stan said some time ago, “about acceptance and owning up to your actions, which is something my character has been dealing with for years.” It suggests that he, by that point, is leaning significantly in the direction of reconciling and accepting that not only is he James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, part of who he used to be, it is also true that “a part of the Winter Soldier’s still” in him. That even though he’s fully rehabbed and turning over all sorts of new leaves (running for Congress and winning? That’s new!), he still retains a very particular skill set and a history that he can’t never run away from. So if he can’t run, why run any longer?

He can be both Bucky (in person and mindset) and the Winter Soldier (in skill and ability, but in clarity and full control of himself), and the possibility exists that he may fully take on the moniker White Wolf, after he has 100% accepted that he is a sum of who he once was before the war, what he was made to be for decades, who he became after that, and who he can start being.

SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES THUNDERBOLTS*

#mcu #thunderbolts #thunderbolts*#the falcon and the winter soldier #tfatws #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes #sebastian stan #costume analysis #costume design #my thoughts #winter soldier #captain america the winter soldier #catws #white wolf #character analysis

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yuurei20 · 21 hours ago

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Summarized transcript of the Twisted Radio episode with Diasomnia! 🐉🦇⚔️⚡️

Highlights: A very good episode, all the Diasomnia VAs love their characters and each other’s characters and each other and it is very obvious when they interact.

Disclaimer: These are not direct quotes, this is all general summarizations and paraphrasing~

Begins with how they are happy to be all together in one place, for the first time in two years.

The opening talk set by last week: what do you find yourself buying when you travel?

⚡️It seems 🦦-kun wanted to buy a dragon sword… 🐉 I’ve bought one before. 🦇 Why wwww 🐉 In elementary school

On topic: 🐉 I love milk. Every time I go some place I buy milk to drink. A recent musical I was in traveled nationwide and the milk in Hokkaido is different depending upon the area. I was so happy.

🦇I like to get things to remind me of the trip. It doesn’t matter what they are. It doesn’t even have to be related to the area. Just a prize from a Game Center or a gacha toy or anything is fine.

⚔️ Dragons. Apparently they’re growing in popularity.

He talks about how around high school everyone loses interest, but then you become an adult and are like “actually yeah dragons are great” ww

🦇 We should get on that bandwagon. Officially recognized by Diasomnia ww ⚔️ We have the most noble and beautiful dragon of them all 🦇 Out of all the dragons that there are, he certainly stands out

(Everyone is laughing so much they are having so much fun)

⚡️I like getting fruit or something that was made from things grown in the area, even if it’s temporary, to remember the taste

(⚡️ is the host so it is his job to keep them on subject ww there are a lot of cuts in this episode, they must have talked for so long and needed to cut it down)

Fan letter: I had a dream where I talked about how wonderful Malleus-sama is for ten hours. What strange dreams have you had before?

⚡️I have been seeing the same dream since I was a kid. A kind of horror dream. The same dream where I am being chased by something.

⚔️ There are dreams I had as a kid that really left an impression on me. I remember them pretty well. Like one where I became a character from a cartoon that could fly. I became one of the main characters. An enemy would appear, someone would say “Let’s go!” and they’d all naturally start to fly. And even though I was a main character, I’d say “Let’s go!” and I was the only one who wouldn’t be able to fly. Everyone else flew off and I couldn’t. I was the main character and they all left me behind. I started crying that I couldn’t fly and then I woke up.

🦇 I’ve had a dream about situation where I could fly, too. Even though I could fly, when I jumped from somewhere high up instead of going straight I would go fly upwards, then think, “Yeah, I can fly,” and that is when I could go forward. I perform safety checks within my dream.

🐉 In a dream I had in university I could fly, but just some light floating. Everyone else travels very quickly, and at first I can as well, but then I get lower and lower, and soon I am floating about 5cm. I’m technically flying, but…I saw that dream a lot.

(This entire story ⚔️ is in the background dying of laughter)

About Malleus

He was very mysterious when he first appeared. ⚡️ says he had the feeling from the start that he was a very good character.

🦇 He had an atmosphere of someone who is difficult to go near.

⚔️ I like Malleus-sama even more now than I did before. Not just what about him that is firm but his soft side, his warm side, his cold side—we can see so many aspects of his character now, which has made him even more captivating. Because he is so mysterious something even more wonderful than what I had imagined has emerged—that is the impression I have of him now.

🦇 They did a great job with his casting. I didn’t really know anything at first, but doing this for so long, you can tell how perfect 🐉-kun is for this part.

🐉 I’m so happy :D

🦇 Of course everyone wants to know more in the beginning because of his cool voice, but 🐉-kun has a kindness to him. And that is what I came to understand. They took that into account when they chose him. When I figured that out, I was extremely impressed. This isn’t something that just anyone can do. It’s not enough to just provide a cool character voice. It’s a distinct charm that he has.

⚔️ The character is really packed with substance, but there’s still space left, and you can sense that mysteriousness. Because there is so much going on inside of him there are things for you to grasp at while simultaneously stirring your imagination. I really sense that.

🦇 When you try to think of other seiyuu like that, no one really comes to mind. It has to be 🐉-kun.

🐉 Is it okay if I start to cry?

⚔️ And when he sings…

⚡️ That humming…

⚔️ That was amazing.

🐉 That was so hard to do. They told me, “please hum like you mean it,” and I thought, “what is humming that you mean?” Humming that follows a melody, that becomes a sound. I had never done that before. It was really hard. We tried several different patterns.

⚔️ It was scary. Both an ending and a beginning.

🦇 But as the story continues I find him cute, too. And 🐉-kun is cute, too.

(Everyone is laughing, I think ⚔️ is going to die here)

🦇 No I’m serious, really, really.

🐉 While portraying Malleus the difficult thing is always not showing too much emotion,.The direction I am always receiving is “you can’t become human.” They’ll say, “that take sounded just like a regular guy.” The balance of how his normal is not normal for a human is always hard to do. And post-overblot Malleus—they’ll tell me, “Sorry, but Malleus sounds kind of scary.” I often get told “can you control the darkness a bit.” But through all that how do I still portray Malleus-ness…

🦇 The more you read for a character the more you come to understand them, but Malleus was last.

🐉 There was a lot of uncertainty in the beginning. I have concluded that he is cute. He’s a child. He’s been alive longer than the others, but his emotional state hasn’t caught up to that. He has so much power, but he lacks the normal concept of common sense. Things that are common sense to him are not so to others. I am always trying to portray that unusual dichotomy.

⚔️ talks about being able to see Malleus grow up in Book 7 through the different milestones were see in the flashbacks. There are places where he has always been the same but parts about him that have evolved. ⚔️ tells 🐉 that it seems like that must have been hard.

🐉 It was so hard. I think there’s probably a way of interacting with Malleus that's in line with how he understands things, even though I don't fully understand it. When encountering him for the first time, people around him might think, 'Wow, he doesn’t react at all!' But Malleus does react in his own way. I would receive many detailed directions like 'Please be surprised!' or 'Please react!' I didn’t create this performance all by myself, it has come together from the efforts of the staff, and I’m really grateful for that. I tend to lose track of what was the right way to approach things as Malleus. You can get confused between doing events and the main story, so getting back into the right mindset every time is pretty tough.

About Silver

🐉 I thought he was really cool when I saw him the first time.

⚡️ I think it’s cute how he falls asleep—he’ll wake up, apologize, and then immediately sleep again.

🦇 He’s really pretty.

🐉 I thought he had a beautiful face the first time I saw him.

⚔️ My portrayal of him hasn’t really changed since the beginning. We’ve gotten more information and there is more of a backbone now, and of course things change when new things are revealed. Even from the beginning he wasn’t just a cool character, he had a naturalness to him, and not just that he spaces out, but he tries to solve his problems with physical strength. Like in Book 7 with “if I hit it that will fix it.” I think his humanity is being expressed more these days.

🦇 It took a while, yeah?

⚔️ It took so long.

🦇 It took us a while to get to Malleus, too, but he had the impact of his first appearance. Silver didn’t have anything.

Now they’re talking about Lilia’s farewell party and Malleus and Silver crying together and not knowing how to express their emotions. Trying to be mature.

⚔️ He’s being a big brother to Silver!!

🦇 I figured something was coming soon, after that. And it went in an intense direction.

⚔️ There is so much about them that is a family. Father is Lilia, and Malleus-sama has a big-brother nature to him.

🐉 You really feel their familial relationship.

⚔️ He felt some responsibility. If the little brother starts to cry, the older brother—

🐉 He can’t cry.

⚔️ He’ll get desperate to try and be strong and try to solve the problem.

🐉 Like he has to step up.

🦇 So it was Silver’s fault.

⚡️⚔️🐉wwwwww

⚔️Not all of it. Silver would never say this, but the reason things became so difficult for the two of them is…their love for their father.

🦇 Sebek and Silver are a good combination, too.

⚔️ Such a good combination~~~

🦇 They’re complete opposites but they’re also surprisingly similar.

⚡️They’re both so honest.

🐉 They’re honest and serious and good kids, both of them.

⚡️ They never had the opportunity to show emotion like that until 7. They are both very quick to cry.

🐉 They’re so much alike.

⚡️I guess this is what happens when you’re raised together with someone. I think Silver is the older brother, looking from Sebek’s perspective. There is a moment where Sebek is scolded for the first time. In the moment, when I was reading, ⚔️’s portrayal really is angry. I even said it, “He finally scolded him for the first time.”

About Sebek

⚡️I think he empowers himself by speaking so loudly. Once he decides on doing something, he goes straight for it, true to his unique magic. With how strongly he sticks to his principles it’s like he could overcome any obstacle, like in that scene he had with Silver, but it was very cute that he actually loses there.

⚔️THAT WAS SO CUTE. That was a great part.

(⚔️ is literally yelling into his mic about how cute Sebek is)

⚡️The fact that he was able to get out the words he really wanted to say after he lost the fight shows that he does want to say what is on his mind but there is a wall that he has to break down, and then he can move forward. That is a moment where you can really understand Sebek-kun’s feelings. And once he lets his emotions out, they’re out w

🐉 He can’t put the lid back on. Everything spills out.

⚔️ (dying in the background)

⚡️talks about how much effort Sebek puts into everything and he reads so much and there is so much he wants people to know, which is why he is so loud.

🦇Sebek and Silver have both had a lot more lines recently. Doesn’t your voice get worn out during recordings?

⚡️It doesn’t! I do stretches and things before recordings. I figured out that I need that kind of physical exercise to prepare.

About Lilia

⚡️ Mom.

🐉 A cute mom.

⚡️There was a lot of gaps* in 7.

*I can’t figure out a good way to say this in English. It is the difference between what you expect and what something really is.

🐉 Too many gaps, it was so surprising.

🦇 I had heard nothing about any of that.

⚡️ I had an image of him as someone who is gentle and cute and a senpai who enjoys pranks and looks out for others…

🦇 He used to be completely different.

⚡️And there was egg-sama.

🐉 Egg-sama w

⚡️⚔️It’s not inaccurate.

🦇 I have done a lot of crying scenes before. When you first look at the script it hits you, and when you think about how you have to portray what you just read so that the people listening to your performance feel the same emotion—there is a pressure to that. I can’t be the only one crying. I have to make others cry.

⚔️ Something that 🦇-san said (during the special talk show that 🦇 and 🐉 did together last year talking about Book 7 just the two of them) that I really liked and wanted to ask about: You and Baul’s VA Koyasu-san (🐊) have been performing together a lot over the years. And you came back together for the first time in a while for this. You said that you didn’t want to give him the impression of “So this is what 🦇 is like these days.” So there was that pressure, you didn’t want to give an embarrassing performance in front of him, and I realized that you have a passionate spirit that you don’t really show, in my opinion—but it’s there! I got really excited about that.

🐉 I was surprised, too, that even 🦇-san has those same thoughts.

⚡️Same!

🦇 Of course I do. The pressure was intense. I am glad that we were able to record together, but…

And with the Chapter 13 release announcement they say they have permission to share this information:

🦇 and 🐉 were able to record together!

🐉 It was amazing. It was truly an amazing time for me.

🦇 It was our first time performing together.

Upcoming calendar review~ and done!

#twstseiyuu #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Kato Kazuki #Sebek Zigvolt #Ishiya Haruki #Lilia Vanrouge #Midorikawa Hikaru #Shimazaki Nobunaga #Silver

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 days ago

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Besotted 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, virginity loss, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your new neighbour brings intrigue and a bit of danger.

Characters: ex-con!Bucky Barnes

Note: It's hump day, my dudes.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You don’t see Bucky at all the next day. His motorcycle is gone when you leave for work and when you come back. You assume he has his own work to do, or some running around. He did just move in. You try not to take it personally but you are disappointed.

This is a lot more fun than all those other times. You’re not as stressed, not as insecure. Maybe it’s because you’re not hoping for more. Because you took a page out of Angelique’s book and stopped caring. One way or another, you’re going to get rid of your v-card. It doesn’t have to be special, it just has to happen.

On your day off, you decide to get rid of the prickly weeds around the front porch. It's the perfect opportunity for you to show off your shortest shorts and blast some tunes while you’re at it. You put on your rose gold headphone and the best of girly pop.

You smell coffee but don’t see your neighbour. You don’t want to be too obvious. You get down on your knees and pull-on the dollar store gardening gloves. You’re not good at any of this but these damn plants keep scratching your ankles.

Before long, your alternative motives drift away as you wrestle with roots. You yank free a particularly stubborn weed and send up a cloud of dandelion fluff. You sneeze into the back of the glove. A shadow passes over you and a gentle tap lands on your shoulder.

You squeak and drop the leaves. You pull off your headphones and twist to look up at Bucky. Your shoulder tingles where he touched. It’s hard to think someone like him can be so soft.

“I’m headed into town...” he crosses his arms, the cleft in his chin deepening as he mulls his words, “you said you wanted to test out the motorcycle...”

“Oh really!” You exclaim as you look up at him. You focus on his face, even as you’re innately aware of how close your are to something else. “Oh, Bucky, that’s so awesome. I’ve been so excited for this.” You gather up the compost bag and he offers his hand. He hauls you up to your feet and reluctantly let go. “I’ve been so patient.”

He hums, “you can’t wear those. You’ll get burned.”

He looks down at your shorts. You giggle. You pull off your gloves and clutch them together. “I’ll get changed. I have the perfect pants!”

He just nods.

“I’ll wait,” he assures and points over his shoulder.

You grin and spin to rush away, headphones bouncing around your neck. You dump the gloves and bag on the porch and clatter through the door. You stop to wipe the dirt off your knees and strip off your shorts before you get to the bedroom.

You search out the fake leather leggings with all the fake zippers. The sun won’t be kind but you don’t mind. You slip into them and find a strappy red top with a bandana style cut at the hem. The bejeweled letters across the front read ‘sinful’. It’s cheesy but you love it.

You find a pair of sunglasses with thick black cat eyes and trade your sandals for leather booties. You hook your purse across your body as you come out with a jangle of your keys. You zip those away with your phone as you come down the stair.

Your chest jiggles with each step as your upper tummy peeks out beneath the fabric. Bucky looks over and arches a brow. You approach as he takes a helmet from the handlebar.

“Found a spare,” he offers.

You take it and thank him. His eyes skitter between you and the bike. You giggle and tap your heels in excitement. You're genuinely amped up for this.

“It’s so cool!” You say, “oh, will you take a picture of me with the bike?”

He squints and his cheek dimples. He shrugs, “sure.”

“Amazing,” you unzip the small crossbody pouch, “here.”

You unlock your phone, your background a picture of you, Angelique, and another friend, Tracy, your backscreen. You bring up the camera and hand it over.

“Oh, can I get on or?” You face the motorcycle.

“Sure, be careful.”

You put the helmet on and let the straps hang loose. First you pose in front of it and cock your hip. He aims the lens, your flowery blue and purple case looks dainty in his large tattooed hands. Then you cautiously approach. He comes closer and puts his hand under your elbow to help you onto the backseat. You notice the backrest that wasn’t there before and the shining new chrome bolts that hold it on.

You straddle it as he backs up. You stick your tongue out for another picture. Then you smile and give a peace sign.

He lowers the phone and nears, offering it to you. You snag his forearm, “and a selfie? Together.”

He twitches. “I don’t much like pictures.”

“Just a memory. Promise, I won’t show anyone.”

He growls and shows his palms, “what... what do you want me to do.”

“Here, turn,” you direct him, “put your arm around me and get in frame.”

You flip the camera and extend your arms. He moves stiffly and hovers his arm over your shoulders. He smells like oaky cologne. You smile as he growls at his own reflection in the phone. You lean into him and watch his features calm then snap the photo.

“So cute,” you exclaim. “That’s my new wallpaper.” You tap on the three dots and quickly replace the pic of you and your girls, “see.”

“Huh?” He stands straight.

“Everyone’s going to think I’m so badass. I mean, I’m not, but they’ll think I am,” you chime. “Oh, uh,” the straps tickle your neck as you put your phone away, “Bucky, I’m so dumb. Can you help?”

You pinch the straps and flick your lashes at him. He exhales again. You stare at the front of his plain black tee. It clings to his muscles and squeezes his thick biceps. He takes the straps and loops one through the metal ring. His fingertips brush your throat and chin.

He slowly tugs it snug and his hands freeze. He stares at them and his gaze slowly crawls up to your lips. The air turns stolid around you. He winces and puts his hand on the helmet, wiggling it to test it.

“Good to go,” he drags his hand off and turns his back to you.

He grabs the other helmet and pulls it on over his hair. He slides on his sunglasses before he straddles the bike in front of you. He grips the handlebars and takes it off the stand, kicking it back as he easily supports the heavy beast of a bike. His strength is felt in the shifting axel.

“Gotta hang on unless you want road burn,” he says over his shoulder. “Gonna be loud.”

“I can handle it,” you assure him as you lean in and wrap your arms around his middle.

You feel his stomach clench. He turns the key then brings his hand back to turn the throttle, making the bike roar. He walks it back and angles it down the street. He gets it rolling then puts his feet up, zipping off through a tunnel of wind.

You let out a gleeful holler. The rush is unlike anything you felt. Your heart is pumping and your veins are on fire. You hug him tighter and laugh raucously.

He stops at a sign and plants his boots, “you okay?” He calls over his shoulder.

“I’m perfect. I’m-- I’m in heaven!” You answer and wiggle in the seat.

He takes off again. You squeal and cling to him. You watch the smear of the buildings, trees, and pavement. You feel like you’re flying. Not to mention, you’re vibrating. You feel your leggings getting wet. This is more than fun, it’s fucking hot.

At last, he stops and quiets the beast. You look around the plaza as he kicks down the stand. He waits and signals you off first with the tilt of his head. You get off and he follows.

“Hope you don’t mind,” he says. “Boring stuff.”

You look over at the organic shop sign. You laugh, “are you buying gluten free granola?”

“Something like that,” he almost smiles. Almost.

“Hang onto that,” he taps the helmet.

You unloop the straps and hang it from your elbow, “yes--” you have to stop yourself from saying daddy. You’re not sure if it’s a joke or serious at this point. “Sir.”

He eyes you then scoffs, “alright, then, doll, let’s go.”

His cheek ticks and he looks away. He turns his back to you quickly and beckons you with his hands. You follow.

“Doll,” you say.

“Sorry--” he begins.

“I like it. It’s cute! Like a Barbie, right?”

He sniffs and opens the door of the shop, “sure, something like that.”

Or a sex doll? You think to yourself. You nearly dance through the door. This is an amazing day.

He enters behind you. You radiate to the rack of plant-based candies. They are all so colourful. He sidles along to the bin of trail mix. He takes a paper bag and dumps a scoop inside.

“They have any with M&Ms?” You shuffle up next to him. He grunts. “Kidding.”

“Good food,” he mutters. “Nice place.”

“I’ve never been before,” you say. “You’re not vegan? That pie I made had real meat?”

He snorts and shakes his head, “nah, just... try to appreciate the small things, these days.”

“Right. Well, it’s a really cool place—oh, cookies!”

You brush by him and snag up a box of the vanilla glazed shortbread. They look delicious. You turn to him and grin as you show him.

“Small things, right?” You bounce back toward him.

He stares at you a moment, “yeah.” He nods and folds over the top of the paper bag. “There’s... there’s a bar around the corner.”

“Oh, a bar?” You chirp. “How about I buy you a round? For the ride?”

“Mm, I was just gonna run over and deal with... talk to a friend.” He browses as he speaks. “Thought you could wait with the motorcycle.”

“Oh,” you deflate, “whatever you like.”

“Or... you can sit for a drink. Won’t be long,” he shrugs.

“Bucky, I’m all yours. I’ll do whatever you want.”

He coughs and grabs a loaf of ten grain.

“One drink,” he grits out.

👙

You buy your cookies and Bucky his small haul of groceries. He fits it all in his saddle bags as you watch. He comes around and points you around the other side of the plaza. He walks beside you. As you think about how you must look together, you get all fluttery.

You’re tempted to grab his hand but you don’t want to spoil all your progress. After all, he invited you. And now he’s taking you for a drink. Sort of.

He holds the door at the bar for you, greeting the bouncer with familiarity. You look around the dim space. It’s just after noon, there’s not too many people there. He points you to a table.

“What do you drink?” He asks.

“Do you think they have appletinis?” You ask. He blinks. You laugh at him. “Joking, I’ll have a light beer. Any brand.”

“Right, doll, coming right up.”

You sit and watch him go. He talks to the bar tender and points to the table. Then he walks up around the curve of the bar and into the backroom. You narrow your eyes curiously. Huh.

The bartender pulls a tap and pours the pint. He brings it to you. “Miss.” He retreats as if he’s afraid of you. Before you can even thank him.

You pull the tall glass close as condensation hazes along the outside. You taste the thin layer of foam. It’s a bit tangy. You peer around listlessly. This isn’t very exciting.

This isn’t the typical sports bar. There's a pool table and a dartboard but no TVs for the games. There’s leather jackets and skull emblems and a few disarmed guns on wooden plaques.

There’s a thunk from the back of the bar then the slam of a door. You peer over as Bucky emerges and stops at the bar. Without a word, the bartender pours him a dark glass of liquor. He grabs it and marches over to you. He sits and sighs.

“Had to hit the restroom,” he says.

“No worries,” you make yourself drink the beer. Wheaty.

“You make up your mind?” He asks.

“Hmm,” you wipe foam from your lip.

“About the motorcycle. Still want one?”

“I definitely want one!” You grin. He brushes his fingertips over his knuckles. They’re reddened. Is one of them split? Were they like that before?

“It’s an investment. Those new ones are... well, if you’re looking for a vintage model, I know some people. I could do any bodywork you need,” he offers.

“Really? Oh, Bucky, you’re so sweet!” You chime.

His mouth slants, curving at one corner. He takes a swig of his drink.

“Not really, doll,” he rests his chin in his hand. “But for you, I’ll try.”

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #besotted #marvel #mcu #winter soldier #captain america #avengers

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 2 days ago

Text

Everybody’s on the Call Line (Jason todd x gn!reader)

Humor, fluff, established relationship. whole batfam gets involved. Reader is a hacker

This happened because I read the latest coffee shop au from @jjenthusee (and you should too!) and I remembered that I can also write cute fluff. So here this fic is, straight from my drafts where it’s been languishing for months. Anyway.

Swearing, as always. No use of y/n. I don’t know how long this is

———

Jason eases himself carefully onto the fire escape, metal creaking beneath his boots. He stifles a groan. He’s taking a risk sneaking into your apartment like this, he knows he is. If you wake up and see Red Hood snooping around outside your window, you’ll probably call the cops. But he’s tired as all hell, patrol was long and stupid, and your apartment was closer. Jason will just slide in while you’re sleeping, stow his gear where you won’t find it, and collapse into your bed. In the morning, he’ll just say he let himself in with the spare key you gave him. Easy. All he has to do is disable the window alarm he’d gotten for you, and then he’s home free.

The alarm trips, and Jason moves to silence it but then realized it doesn’t matter, you’re still up, working at your computer.

He freezes as you glance over your shoulder, then turn around to face him. He still has his gear on. Shit.

“Uh, hi,” you offer, looking at him with a curious glance as he races to figure out an excuse. “I don’t think we’ve met before?”

This throws him for a loop. You’re reacting very well to a vigilante crawling through your window at 2:30 in the fucking morning. But you’ve given him an opening, and he’s going to take it.

“No,” he says shortly, wincing behind the helmet. He’s never spoken to you like this and instantly hates the tone he’s using, but he’s got a persona to keep up. Or something.

You nod, seemingly unfazed. “No worries. Do you work with Red Robin?”

What? Why are you asking about Tim? Do you have some secret Red Robin crush that he’s going to have to push Tim off a building for?

Dumbfounded, Jason answers, “Uh, sometimes?”

You nod again. “Do you think you could give something to him for me?”

What the shit is happening right now?

As if to help tip Jason’s world off its axis, you’re interrupted by a tap at the window. Jason looks to see Red Robin crouched on your fire escape. You wave him inside.

“Hey, Escher,” Tim says. “Hood.” Jason has no idea what the fuck is going on.

“I’ve got the script,” you say, holding out a flash drive to him, but Tim shakes his head. “No good. They updated the security.”

“Well, shit.” You turn and dump the USB stick into a glass of water on your desk. “It’s a paperweight now. Only took me five hours to figure out.”

“I know,” Tim says, clearly frustrated. “They keep outmaneuvering us.”

Wait, wait. Jason’s still three steps behind you. “Escher?” he demands.

Both you and Tim turn to look at him, frowning. “Like, M.C. Escher? But, spelled ‘emcee,’” you say, as if that explains anything. “It’s my screen name.”

“You two know each other?”

“Yeah, we work together.” Tim raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t know that?”

Jason shakes his head, and Tim looks at you for a flash of a moment before turning back to Jason. “Sorry,” he mouths, shrugging. Jason waves him off. He’ll deal with that later.

Tim turns back to your computer screen, but your eyes stay on Jason, narrowing. “What does it matter if we work together? Do I know you from somewhere?”

Shit. You were always too sharp for your own good. Jason’s tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth. “Uhh…”

You fold your arms over your chest. Behind you, out of your field of vision, Tim grins at Jason, delighted. Asshole.

“We don’t normally work with civilians,” Jason says, fishing for an excuse.

You sniff, rolling your eyes. “And yet, here you are. Which, the way, you haven’t explained. What are you doing in my bedroom?”

Fair. What is he doing in your bedroom? Would it freak you out if he said he was a burglar? Too late for that now.

“I told him to meet me here,” Tim says, pulling Jason’s ass out of the fire. “Sorry I didn’t tell you first.”

You shrug. “S’okay,” you say, spinning back around in your desk chair to face the screen.

Over your shoulder, Tim mouths, “you owe me.” Jason gives him the finger.

“Do you have a safe copy of the new security system?” you ask, looking at Tim intently.

He shakes his head. “Not yet, Oracle is working on duplicating it.”

You slump down in your chair. “Drat. I hate waiting.”

“Yeah,” Tim sits on the floor next to your bed, knees to his chest. “She said it’d be ready in a few hours.”

“Balls.” You fidget with a pen on your desk.

“Hold on. How did you start working with Red over here?” Jason asks. He knows you work in tech, that you’re a programmer, but he didn’t realize you were building code for fucking Batman.

Tim laughs. “I found them solving random problems on a Swedish forum.”

Jason blinks. Okay.

“Well, yeah. You found me there. Oracle found me hacking your comm links,” you grin, pleased with yourself.

Holy shit. “You got into the comm links?”

“Yeah,” you nod, satisfied. “I’ve done it twice now,” you add smugly.

“Don’t tell B,” Tim warns. “He doesn’t know. Oracle said she wouldn’t tell.”

Wow. You must be the real deal. He wonders if he can get you to fuck with Bruce’s plans, just to be a shit. "How long have you been working for the Caped Crusader, then?"

"I don't work for Batman," you say primly, as Tim sighs. "I help him out when you guys can't get your shit together."

Jason snickers under his breath. "Sore subject, huh?"

"They don’t like B," Tim confirms from the floor. "If you did it would make everything easier," he grumbles.

"It's stupid," you insist. "Come on, how is this a viable solution to any long-term problem?"

Jason laughs outright as Tim sputters. "He's a detective! He detects!"

"Then why does he have to dress up like that?" you point out. “You can be a detective in normal clothes, you know.”

"He needs armor, he keeps getting shot at!"

"Explain the cape, then," you shoot back. "Justify that monstrosity."

"It's fucking idiotic," Jason adds, piling on gleefully. "It'd be different if he could fly, but he just hops around."

Tim gasps, affronted, while you crack up in your chair. "Thank you. I mean, look at yourself, Red. You're sitting on my bedroom floor in a goddamn cape."

"It looks cool," Tim says defensively.

"No," you counter, "that looks cool." You point your finger in Jason's direction, and he feels his face heat up.

"Oh, come on," Tim scoffs. "You think his costume is cool?"

"Uh, yeah," you say, eyes taking Jason in as you nod. "Very cool. Very hot."

"Oh my god," Tim mutters. "It's tactically stupid. Why are his forearms exposed?"

"So I can see how muscley they are." You stare at them, eyes wide. Jason coughs awkwardly, and your eyes flit back up. "Sorry," you say, not sounding sorry at all. "I like leather."

"Of course you like his costume," Tim mutters under his breath.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you shoot at him, and Tim flusters. "Why do you care if I don't like your costume?"

"Yeah," Jason adds, letting some menace fall into his voice. "Why do you care if they don’t like your costume?"

"I didn't—I wasn't trying to—"

"I have a boyfriend," you interrupt, looking at Tim scornfully.

"They have a boyfriend," Jason parrots, grinning behind the helmet.

"Oh my god. I know you have a boyfriend. Relax," Tim pacifies you. "Relax," he adds, nodding at Jason. Jason grunts.

Before you can argue further, there’s another tap at your window, and Cass slips softly into the room. You light up. “Hello, my love!” you greet her excitedly. Cass raps you on the top of your head, and you beam up at her. Your hands twitch toward her before you stop yourself, folding them in your lap. Cass turns to Jason, placing her hand carefully on his arm. He bumps against her, waiting until she pushes back lightly. She then moves onto Tim, tugging gently on a lock of his hair, before depositing a flash drive on the desk. You snatch it up eagerly.

From Oracle, Cass signs.

“It’s O’s duplicate!” Tim plucks it from your fingers, driving it into your desktop.

“Be nice to her,” you warn, running a hand over your computer as the file loads. Strings of code write themselves across your screen. Jason moves forward to get a better look at you. He can’t help it, he wants to see you in action. Your face is scrunched up, tongue between your teeth as your eyes flash back and forth, following the cursor. “It’s incomplete.” You squint at Tim. “What gives?”

Tim tsks. “I don’t know. Let me get Oracle.” He puts a hand to his ear. “Oracle, come in.”

Barbara’s voice answers in Jason’s ear. “Here. I know, I know, it’s not all there,” she says, annoyed. “Let Escher know that I had to reverse engineer it from what we found.”

“She says she has to reverse engineer it,” Tim repeats.

You drum your fingers on the desk. “Okay, what else does she know?”

“What else do you—”

“Hold on, this is stupid,” you interrupt. “Can you, like, put her on speaker? Actually,” you click over to another screen, enter a command. “You’re broadcasting live, O.” Jason hears Barbara’s sigh through the speakers of your computer. “That’s three times,” you add smugly.

Jason let’s out a low whistle. Damn. You’re really good at this.

“We've got to stop meeting like this, Escher.” Barbara almost sounds amused. “How did you get in this time?”

“Hiya, babe.” You click back to your project. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out. I don’t want you closing your back door.”

Barbara chuckles. “Red and I will shut you out.”

“But for how long? I’m too slippery, baby.” Jason almost blushes underneath his helmet. It always trips him up when you talk like this.

“I had to reverse engineer the code from what it spit out when I tried to get in this time,” Barbara explains. “Can you fill in the gaps?”

“Some of them.” You type quickly, deleting code as you get error messages and retyping just as fast.

“Wait, here…” Tim points to something on the screen.

“Yeah, okay,” you back up to where he’s pointing and add something.

“There’s something about the updated security,” Barbara adds. “I think there’s a pattern somewhere.”

“Where?” you demand.

“I don’t know. Gut feeling. But I think I’m right.”

“Do you think there’s something generating new code?” Tim asks. “Like, a program that’s spitting out new security?”

“Oh.” Your fingers still on the keys, face relaxing. “Yeah. Good call, Red.” You scan the code again, scrolling back to the top. “Okay. This changes things.” You start from the beginning, erasing whole sections of Barbara’s work and typing out new code. “Well, shit,” you laugh under your breath. “This is some sexy-ass code we’re looking at.”

“You can fill in the blanks?” Jason asks.

You glance up at him. “Of course I can. I wrote it.”

“What?” Tim shouts. “This is you?”

“It’s me,” you confirm. “Guilty.” A small smile plays around your lips. “Sorry.” Cass steps forward, pinching your ear until you yelp.

“Fuck, Escher.” Tim rubs the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t know you were a traitor.”

“Chill, bird brain,” you say defensively, leaning out of Cass’ reach. “This was from, like, five years ago. I needed some cash.”

“You could be on B’s payroll,” Tim offers.

You snort as Barbara huffs a laugh over the comm line. “Fat chance, I’ve been trying to convince them for months.”

“I’m not a fucking lapdog. I play by my own rules,” you insist.

“Yeah?” Jason can’t help but push you. “And what rules are those?”

You cock an eye at him warily. “The rule of not tying my kite to some lunatic.”

Jason nods. Can’t argue with that one.

“Anyway,” you turn back to the computer. “Because I wrote it, I can build you the malware.”

“To get past the security or to neutralize the program spitting out new code?” Barbara asks over the line.

“Dealer’s choice,” you say, then stick your tongue between your teeth as you squint at the screen. “I can make both happen.”

The comm crackles in Jason’s ear. “Oracle, come in,” Bruce barks.

Tim whips his head toward you with a crack. “Nothing from you now, Escher,” Barbara warns. “I’m patching him through.”

You grin, eagerly pretending to zip your lips.

“Here,” Barbara answers.

“I heard from one of my informants,” Bruce’s monotone growl fills the room. Jason catches you roll your eyes and almost bursts out laughing. “They’re going to get into the controls for Blackgate prison.”

“This is Black Mask?” Barbara clarifies.

Bruce grunts as your eyebrows shoot up. “This is Black Mask?” you whisper, except you’ve never been very good at whispering. Tim slices a hand over his neck to silence you as Jason moves to your computer. He’s been eyeing the program you’re using to broadcast the comm connection, and he thinks he’s found the mute button. He taps a key and then turns his head toward you. “Off?”

You nod. “Off. Thanks. This is Black Mask’s security?”

“Yeah, he’s making a move against the jail. He’s going to get some of his guys out,” Tim explains.

“Hmm. Hmm hmm hmm.” You tap your fingers against your chin.

“What?” Tim folds his arms over his chest.

“I originally sold it to the Falcones.” You flick your hair out of your face. “Guess they sold me out behind my back.”

A security program that’s making its way through the mob? That’s…really useful, actually.

“Can you get in and stop them?” Bruce asks.

“Maybe,” Oracle hedges. “Hold on, I have to call in reinforcements.” She mutes Bruce’s line. “Escher, you’re up.”

“Wait, you want it now?” you say, aghast. “Christ, how long do I have?”

“Act quickly.” Bruce orders. “My intel says they’re moving at 3:45am.”

Your eyes fly to the clock on your monitor. “What the fuck!” you screech. “That’s in forty minutes! I can’t do it in forty minutes! I have to break through my own walls!”

“Escher,” Barbara starts, just as Tim says “listen, you have to—”

“I can’t, it’s not enough time!” you wail.

“Hey, hey,” Jason cuts in. “Easy. Don’t worry, love. You can do it.”

You look at him fearfully. “You haven’t even told me what to do!”

“Just get past the security,” Jason says patiently. “Don’t worry about shutting down the whole program.”

You nod at him, eyes wide.

“Deep breaths, now,” he instructs. “Come on, in for two, hold, out for four. We’ll do it together. Ready?”

You nod again.

“Okay.” Jason sucks in a breath, loudly so it’ll register over the modulator. You copy him, inhaling, holding, and exhaling on his rhythm. After a few breaths you shake your head, turning back to the computer.

“Alright. I can make it happen.” You resume typing, eyes narrowed as you focus.

“We’re alright, B, I’ve got someone on it,” Oracle says, satisfied.

Tim turns to Jason, clearly impressed. Jason shrugs. You’ve been together for a while now, he knows how to pull you out of a spiral.

He turns back to you. You’re ripping through code at a hundred miles an hour, hunched over the keyboard. Jason grimaces, he’s always trying to get you to sit up straight to help your tech neck. He’ll have to rub out the knots in your shoulders later.

Jason feels Cass’ eyes on him, and he tilts his head toward her. Less than forty minutes, she signs to him. I’ll have to take it back to the Clocktower.

Jason’s thought of that. He evenly points his chin in your direction. You can handle it, he knows you can. Cass nods.

Tim coughs quietly, and Jason raises his head to look at him. “You want the keys to the castle?” he mutters.

He means code you built that generates new security programs. Jason nods. “But that’s just between us, yeah?” It would be loads easier for Jason if he keeps the code out of Bruce’s hands. Black Mask has been operating in Jason’s territory, and Jason has a long string of investigations against him, well-beyond the scope of this Blackgate shit. Bruce needs to keep his nose out of it.

Tim scoffs. “Fine. Seems like you should get first dibs anyway.” He nods towards your desk where you’re still working stubbornly.

The room is silent, all three of them letting you work. After a few minutes, Tim steps toward you. “Here, you need any hel—”

Jason throws an arm out to stop him, just as Cass grabs his wrist and tugs him backwards, shaking her head. He holds up his hands in surrender.

Fifteen minutes later, you rap your knuckles on your desk. “Oi, peanut gallery!” You spin around in your chair, smiling wickedly. “I solved your case for you!”

“It’s not a case,” Tim mutters, and Jason scoffs.

“Don’t be jealous, RR,” Babs says over the line. “You can both be the prettiest.” Tim splutters as you laugh delightedly.

“Nice job,” Jason says, placing a hand on your shoulder. You grin up at him. He catches Cass and Tim share a look, sees her sign something too fast for his eyes to follow.

“Batgirl’s bringing it to you now, Oracle,” Tim says as you unplug the flash drive and hand it to Cass. You wave to her as she slips through the window.

“My backup came through,” Babs reports to Bruce. “They’ll be obsolete in a few minutes.”

“Copy.” The line fizzles as Babs cuts him off.

“Fuck yeah,” you grin in satisfaction. “Nothing like hearing that overgrown Bat say ‘copy.’”

Jason cackles as Tim rolls his eyes. “Oracle,” he says loudly. “Hood was in the dark about our friend here.” His eyes flick to you before he looks at Jason meaningfully.

And just what the fuck does he think he’s doing? Jason all but snarls at him.

“Huh. I could’ve sworn you were smarter than that, Hood,” Barbara admonishes.

“Shut up, O,” he grumbles. Jason glances at you to make sure you haven’t caught on to what they’re talking about, but you don’t seem to be paying attention; you’ve pulled up Steam and are scrolling through your game library.

“Maybe it’s time to clue them in. Take off your party hat,” Barbara says meaningfully. Tim nods forcefully.

“Butt out,” Jason says half-heartedly, but it doesn’t stick. He’s been thinking about telling you about Red Hood anyway; you’ve been together for a year and a half. He’s been…well, he’s scared. But maybe he shouldn’t be.

“We’d have to vote on it,” he says gruffly. Tim pumps his fist in the air. “In person,” he says meaningfully. Comm links aren’t safe, apparently.

“You have my vote,” Babs says confidently. “And Batgirl’s, too, she’s here.” Barbara pauses meaningfully. “I’m happy for you, Hood.”

“Me too!” Tim pipes up immediately.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason waves them off, like his heart isn’t pounding. “Can you call everyone over?”

“Roger that.” Barbara seems pleased. “Hood is asking us all to meet near him,” she broadcasts aloud. “Sending you coordinates.”

Dick, Steph, Bruce, and Damian all copy. Jason steels himself. “Alright, RR, time to go.”

You glance at him as he moves toward the window. “Heading out?”

“Yeah,” Tim answers. “Got a big family meeting to get to.” He grins at Jason.

“Okay. See you around. Nice meeting you,” you say to Jason, before turning back to your screen.

“Uh, yeah,” he says uncomfortably, while Tim snickers. “See you later.”

The troops have already assembled two rooftops over. “Hood, what’s the situation?” Bruce asks sternly.

“The situation,” Tim starts happily, “is—”

“Hold on,” Jason cuts him off. “Disconnect comm links.” He watches warily as everyone takes them out of their ears.

“Compromised?” Dick asks with concern.

“Uh, yeah.” Jason scratches the back of his neck. “Listen, uh…” he looks at Tim helplessly.

“Jason’s dating Escher.”

“What!” Dick screams as Steph claps her hands together excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were dating anyone?”

“Uh—”

“Fuck, yeah!” Steph interrupts. “This is great! Escher’s the freaking best!”

“Language,” Bruce says as Jason takes off the helmet to glare at Steph accusingly.

“We play Minecraft together,” she explains. “I didn’t know you two were dating!”

“Wait, hold on. I thought you all knew about that.” Jason shifts his glare to Tim.

Tim shrugs. “Only me and Babs knew,” he says.

“Timmy, why didn’t you share!” Dick groans, bounding over to ruffle Jason’s hair.

Jason pushes him away, trying to swipe his feet out from under him. Dick dodges easily, throwing a light right hook in return. “Wasn’t any of your business, now was it?” Jason says gruffly.

Tim looks at Dick, raising his eyebrows. “Didn’t want to get on his bad side.”

“Fair.” Dick grins softly at Jason, bumping shoulders with him. “Nice job, Little Wing.”

Jason blushes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Congrats, Todd, but why are we all here?” Damian interrupts.

“I’m gonna tell ‘em,” Jason says simply. “About this. If it’s cool.”

“Fine with me,” Steph says instantly.

Tim nods, “seconded. Babs and Cass say it’s fine with them, we asked before we went dark.”

“Well, who am I to stand in their way,” Dick half-jokes, but he’s looking at Bruce with serious eyes. So is Jason.

“I’ll follow Father’s ruling,” Damian says stoutly.

That leaves the big man himself. Bruce smiles gently. “Of course, Jaylad. We’re all happy for you.”

Jason blushes all over again. “Thanks, old man.” He lets out a breath.

“But we have to ask Duke,” Bruce adds meaningfully.

“I texted him, he says it’s fine,” Tim says quickly. “But also, uh—” he holds his hand to his ear.

Warily, Jason puts his comm back in. “Jason, what the fuck!” you shriek. “What the fucking fuck is this!”

“I forgot to disconnect,” Babs says sheepishly.

“Jason, you ass! Why didn’t you tell me you ran around in a fucking costume?” you shout down the line. Steph and Dick keel over laughing. Jason realizes everyone has taken the liberty of putting their comm back in.

“Baby, please,” he says resignedly.

“Baby?” Dick mouths, beaming.

“Don’t you fucking ‘baby’ me!” you holler.

“Babe, you are a hacker,” he points out. “How come you didn’t share that with the class?”

That makes you pause. “Fair fucking point, I guess,” you mutter. Jason sees Bruce try to tug the comm out of Damian’s ear, but Damian dances out of reach.

“Uh, also, can you cool it with the swearing?” Jason asks. “There’s a kid here.”

“…if it’s Robin I am going to throw up.”

“Hello,” Damian says helpfully.

Your end of the line is silent.

“Hey, Escher, it’s Spoiler!” Steph cuts in. “Nice job shacking up with Hood.” She eyes Jason evilly.

“This is a fucking ambush,” you grind out. “Jason, you fucking ambushed me.”

“Language,” Bruce orders gently. Tim just about busts a gut while Jason waves frantically at Bruce, shaking his head rapidly. “Nice to meet you over the phone,” Bruce adds. Dick gives him a thumbs up.

“…likewise,” you say eventually. “I hope you’ll excuse me, but this has been insane, and I’m disconnecting. Jason, get your as— get back here after you’ve finished your family dinner.” Your end goes dead.

“They seem nice,” Bruce says after a moment. “We’ll have to talk about how they got into the comm links,” he looks at Tim reproachfully.

“See you later, Hood,” Dick says easily, nodding at your building.

Jason turns back to your apartment. He can already see you in the window, arms crossed over your chest. You’re trying to scowl at him, but he can see the smile trying to escape.

He shrugs his shoulders, grinning. You throw up your hands but beckon him anyway. Come on, come back.

Don’t worry, Jason’s coming.

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roancowgirl · 2 days ago

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I live in a deep red state, in a small, very red town. My gf and I are out and proud. We both work in blue collar jobs, in male dominated environments.

We’ve met some shitty people, but we’ve met SO many nice people as well. They may not be the most educated, but they’re genuine and they try hard to get along if you try to get along with them.

My favorite was a coworker, who called me a slur. It was a mild one, and there isn’t much one can say that would genuinely offend me. But I cracked a joke about this other guy being mad at me for existing(he can be a bit hot under the collar because the wind changed) and my buddy looked at me, so concerned, and said “do you think it’s because you’re a dyke?” He was so genuine and concerned that it didn’t register what he said until an hour later, and now it’s a running joke.

I would rather have someone like that, someone that’s uneducated but trying, than someone that knows all the terminology but doesn’t really give a shit about me. These people are genuine, and I can list off multiple people in my life like this.

I’ve had prior bosses and friends tell me that if anyone makes me uncomfortable or makes a comment, let them know and they’ll handle it. I can hold my own and never had to take them up on it, but they’re behind me if I need them. That goes for both as a queer person and as an afab person.

I think there’s a massive gap in outreach and fighting for rights, and that’s meeting people where they are. Obviously being called a slur shouldn’t be the expectation and that shouldn’t be the norm that we need to be ok with, but I think it’s important to acknowledge when someone is trying and gently educating goes a long way.

I know for me, with some people I run into I might be the only lesbian they’ve ever met. If they’re willing to work with me and treat me like a person and not make my day harder, I’ll meet them where they’re at and we can all get along. They leave more educated and with a worldview that’s a bit bigger than the town they’ve lived in for three generations, and I might have a new buddy or resource.

Media consumption is another thing that has an affect, most of these people don’t have access to a wide array of media, or even think to seek it out because why would you seek out something you’ve never seen or heard of? That’s been discussed in the democratic circles in my area, people were pro democrat and voting for Kamala but largely uneducated about other candidates on the ballot. Media consumption and the effect it has on worldviews, especially in places that are for all intents and purposes somewhat isolated is its own conversation though.

This is turning into an essay and there’s more I can add, but to try to sum this up I don’t think it’s as simple as city/educated folk are your friend, and rural/uneducated/blue collar folk are your enemy. It’s not that black and white. There’s allies and enemies in every community, and using the level of education or terminology someone uses shouldn’t be the bar. Their actions and their try should be,

"The trannies should be able to piss in whatever toilet they want and change their bodies however they want. Why is it my business if some chick has a dick or a guy has a pie? I'm not a trannie or a fag so I don't care, just give 'em the medicine they need."

"This is an LGBT safe space. Of COURSE I fully support individuals who identify as transgender and their right to self-determination! I just think that transitioning is a very serious choice and should be heavily regulated. And there could be a lot of harm in exposing cis children to such topics, so we should be really careful about when it is appropriate to mention trans issues or have too much trans visibility."

One of the above statements is Problematic and the other is slightly annoying. If we disagree on which is which then working together for a better future is going to get really fucking difficult.

#roan rambles #queer #lgbt #country #rural #rural america #country queer

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bywons · 2 days ago

Text

𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𖥔 PSH

𝖠𝖢𝖳𝗢𝗡𝗘────𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍

【 𝒪𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐀 】 𝓁 ’───𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 𝟏𝟒𝟏𝟑𝗐 ｡ 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋 ❛ 愛 ❜ 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇—𝗆𝗎𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋

스루 ܃ make sure to read until the end, & share your thoughts with me ! i hope ya'll will enjoy this :3

reb𝑙ogs ◇ 𝑓eedbacks 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾

park sunghoon disappeared from plain sight three years ago.

the boy you once loved so much, you would give him your heart and he was ready to give his. through shared kisses and intoxicating touches that sent a bolt of thunder through your bodies, you grew to love him even more.

and now you ache for him, your heart could never belong to anyone but park sunghoon. for the past three years, you have seen plenty of faces— even some so striking that you would consider dating them, if your heart hadn't belonged to sunghoon. you searched among the crowd of faces with an expecting heart to see his face popping up, but you had failed to see him anywhere.

so naturally, when one day your phone buzzes up at an unusual hour from an unknown number, claiming to be park sunghoon, you thought it was an awful prank. at first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you, a cruel trick of exhaustion or longing.

until something convinced you.

i don’t have much to explain, rose. i just want to see you.

he always called you by rose, your favourite flower.

i miss you, don’t know if you miss me.

god, you miss him more than anything.

you don’t want to invite him over, to let him see your vulnerable side. but you’re already so broken without him, and you take it as a sign from above— park sunghoon will finally be yours again.

the doorbell buzzes louder, and you realise you fell asleep on the couch while waiting for him, the news acting as a serenade in the background.

you hesitate. every rational part of your brain screams at you to leave it alone—to call someone, to ignore it, to do anything but walk towards the door. and yet, your feet move of their own accord, drawn forward by a force far stronger than fear.

the moment you unlock the door, a gust of cool night air rushes in, and there he stands.

park sunghoon.

exactly as you remember him. and yet—different.

he doesn’t say anything off the bat, and just stands there, staring at you with an emotion you can’t really figure out. your throat runs dry, before you step aside to let him in.

“—the city remains silent after the dreadful incident along the alley of the infamous club. the victims’ body is yet to be handed over to autopsy, but witnesses state, quote, it’s unbearable to stand such a sight—”

he sits down quietly before you on the couch. sunghoon watches you, the dim glow from the tv casting shadows across his face. his fingers tap idly against his knee, a familiar habit.

“so, you won’t ask me how i’ve been?” he finally says something, his dark locks of hair falling over his face just like old times. he looks exactly the same.

“should i?” you dig your nails into your palms, “would you even answer?”

his lips twitch, but he doesn’t deny it. Instead, he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as his gaze locks onto yours. “i missed you.”

“you left without nothing,” you finally push out the words you’ve been wanting to say, “d-did you ever think about me?” your voice cracks.

sunghoon visibly gulps, a shadow of guilt taking over his features. he pushes himself closer to you, “you’re all that i think about, rose. you’re my love, i love you—”

“oh, save it,” you spit, your eyes welling up with frustrated tears. you just couldn’t take the man's crap talk after three whole years, “you don’t care about me, you never did! sunghoon you just disappeared and decided to come back after so long without a word—”

“i know, i can—”

“where were you, sunghoon?” your voice shakes. “i—i thought you were dead.”

his eyes flicker with something unreadable. “i can’t explain it. not yet.”

“not yet?” you let out a hollow laugh. “three years, and you can’t even give me a reason?”

he inches closer, closing the space between you. his fingers brush your cheek—chilling, familiar, and devastating. “i didn’t want to leave you,” he murmurs. “i had no choice.”

faces close, you search for something in his eyes,

your breath is unsteady, the weight of his gaze pressing down on you like a force you can’t fight. his words should anger you. they should send you into a fit of rage, make you shove him away, make you scream at him for leaving you in the dark all this time.

but his touch, his voice, his mere presence is enough to crumble all the walls you built over the past three years.

“you had no choice?” you repeat, your voice dripping with disbelief. “then tell me, sunghoon. what was so important that you had to disappear without a trace? that you had to make me think i lost you forever?”

he exhales sharply, jaw clenching. his fingers ghost down your arm, almost as if testing if you’ll flinch away. you don’t.

“rose, i—” he hesitates, his eyes flickering with something you can’t quite place. “i want to tell you. but not yet.”

not yet. again.

you let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “you always do this. keep me in the dark. make me feel like a fool for loving you.” your voice cracks at the last part.

his eyes darken. “you were never a fool for loving me.”

there’s just silence between the two of you again, the slow squeaking of the ceiling fan and the buzz from the news playing on the tv trying to fill it in.

“—hold on, i’m getting a call, hope this is an important source. heeseung you better not stop recording, we’re going to make big news—”

“then-” you hiccup, his cold touch along your forearm making you lose your eyes, “then prove it?”

“anything for you,” sunghoon whispers before he pushes his lips on yours, making your back crash into the couch. his featherlight touches on your skin, and you hiccup yet again. sunghoon clearly giggles into the kiss, his hands brushing off the hair from your face as his lips stay on yours.

the kiss is slow at first, almost hesitant before it turns into a need. you let him push your back completely against the couch, be on top of you. his fingers tangle in your hair, his touch igniting something primal in you. when his lips part from yours, he trails kisses down your jaw, your throat, sending shivers through your body.

“rose, i missed you,” he murmurs against your skin. “you’re mine, aren’t you?”

you giggle at his words, head turning towards the low humming tv as sunghoon continues loving you.

“—now reporting live from the crime scene, yet another body with similar m.o has been discov—”

you try not to pay much attention to the news, and focus on your lover, who’s busy pressing kisses on your face. he murmurs sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you of old times.

his breath is warm against your skin, his lips parting as he hovers over the pulse point at your neck. your heartbeat pounds beneath his touch, and for a brief moment, you think he hesitates.

then— a sharp gasp leaves your lips as his teeth barely graze your skin.

something about it feels wrong.

too sharp. too precise.

a sudden flash from the television catches your attention.

“—newfound horror. the victims were found with two puncture wounds on their neck… eerily similar to cases seen in vampire folklore—”

your blood runs cold as realisation settles in, you slowly push sunghoon back by his muscular shoulders, just right enough to glimpse at his eyes.

he refuses to look directly at you, maybe because he already predicted your reaction to this, or maybe he is looking at you— you simply cannot register anything as your blood runs cold.

sunghoons eyes glow red in the dark, white and sharp fangs baring out. his neck and face looks paler than ever, as if he's painted white.

you just lay there, shaken in fear, unable to do anything on your own but whimper his name. he coos at you, leaning down towards your neck.

“don’t worry, y/n,” he whispers, kissing the crook of your neck once more, “i love you, you won’t end up like them.”

the channel roars.

“—the polices’ advice is to stay indoors as often as possible, and immediately file a report if you come across suspicious activities—”

taglist────open nets @/k-labels @k-films @kflixnet CLICK ME

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oopsiedaisydeer · 2 days ago

Text

ʙᴜᴢᴢᴇᴅ

caffeine, anger, anxiety, emotional tension, hurt/comfort, guilt, miscommunication, apology, self-awareness, light teasing

based off this request!

word count - 850ish

You’d never been much of a caffeine drinker, but today, you decided to give it a go. Just one coffee, you told yourself. Nothing too crazy. But as soon as you took that first sip, you felt the buzz start to kick in. Your thoughts were racing, and before you knew it, you were talking at a mile a minute.

“So, I was thinking we could go to that new café this weekend, right? I heard they have these amazing pastries, and oh, did I tell you about the movie I saw last night? The main character was hilarious, I swear, I want to be her friend, and the lighting was incredible, like, the whole aesthetic was perfect, and I just can’t stop thinking about it, and, oh! Wait, no, there was something else I wanted to say, oh yeah! Have you tried that new thing at McDonalds they just started selling?"

Chris, on the other hand, had just gotten back from a rough day and was barely holding it together. The energy you were radiating was overwhelming, and the caffeine was making you talk even faster. He tried to keep up, nodding a little, but it was getting harder to focus with each word.

Eventually, the pressure built up, and he snapped.

"Could you just... stop for a second?" His voice was sharper than he meant it to be, the words spilling out before he could stop them. "I’ve had a long day, alright? Just... just stop talking."

You froze immediately. The sharpness in his tone hit you harder than you expected, and your breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t realised you were talking so much. You stared at him, blinking rapidly, and you felt your chest tighten, a wave of guilt washing over you.

Chris was still standing there, his arms crossed, his eyes averted. His frustration wasn’t just with you, it was with himself, and he was trying to hold it together, but he didn’t know how to get out of this moment. His jaw clenched as he turned away, rubbing his face with one hand. "I’m sorry," he muttered, his voice rough. "It’s not you. I just... I had a shitty day, and the coffee’s got you talking a lot, and I don’t-"

His eyes flicked back to you, and he stopped mid-sentence. You were standing there, silent, your eyes glassy. It took him a moment to realize why the silence felt so heavy. It was because your eyes were brimming with unshed tears. “M’sorry, Chris”, you mumble.

His heart sank. Shit.

"I didn’t mean to-" He took a step toward you, his frustration suddenly replaced with guilt. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he took another step closer. "I just, sometimes I get overwhelmed, and it’s not your fault, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong."

You blinked, trying to hold back the tears, feeling embarrassed. "I didn’t mean to talk too much. I... I just got excited." Your voice came out quieter, a bit shaky, and the more you tried to explain, the harder it was to keep the tears in.

Chris cursed under his breath, guilt washing over him. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you like that." His tone softened, and he gently reached out, his fingers brushing your arm in a quiet apology. "It’s not you. It’s me. I’ve just been holding all this stuff in today, and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you."

You shook your head, trying to compose yourself. "No, no, it’s okay. I didn’t realise I was rambling so much. I’m sorry."

Chris’s expression softened even more, and he carefully reached up to brush a tear from your cheek. His touch tender, and he pulled you into a loose hug. "I don’t want to make you feel bad. You’re not annoying, okay? I was just... not in the right headspace, and I shouldn’t have said that. Like that, either."

You looked up at him, the tension easing a bit, but you still felt a little self-conscious. "I didn’t mean to overwhelm you. I just... I guess the caffeine did its thing."

Chris raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, I think you plus coffee is not a good combination," he teased lightly, trying to lighten the mood.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the tension between you both starting to fade. "Maybe," you said with a playful shrug. "I wasn’t really thinking when I grabbed it. I don’t usually drink it so late."

Chris’s smile widened. "Yeah, no kidding. You’ve got like a sugar high. Might need to take you for a walk to wear you out."

You rolled your eyes, but your smile was genuine now. "Hey, I’m not that bad. You were the one getting all cranky."

Chris laughed, shaking his head. "Fair enough. Next time, I’ll just steal your coffee before you get the chance."

Chris stepped a little closer, his hand still gently resting on your arm. "I’m really sorry, though. I shouldn’t have gotten frustrated. It wasn’t about you."

"It’s okay," you replied, the earlier awkwardness now replaced with something more comfortable.

With a last soft smile, Chris nodded. "Alright. All good?"

"All good," you said.

creds to rose for the divider! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: now i want coffee lol. fun fact i am indeed not allowed to drink it.

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @sturnshood @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @recordeeznuts @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga

cya very sooooon!

#inez˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚#inez ff ˚˖𓍢ִ໋`🌿:✧˚#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo angst #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader

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sheerfreesia007 · 3 days ago

Text

Fitted Love

Pairing: Lee Felix x Reader

Word count: 2,385

Content warnings: Soft smut, MDNI, Fluff, insecurities

Summary: Felix has invited you to be his plus one for a Louis Vuitton event and you need to be fitted for a dress for the event. When Felix notices that your mind is starting to grow dark with your insecurities he reminds you how perfect you are for him in the best way possible.

Yeobo: Honey

The room is busy with activity as you stand on the large white pedestal in front of the Louis Vuitton designer and her team of assistants and jewelry designers. Felix is going to be attending an event that’s hosted by Louis Vuitton and has asked you to join him for the event. Louis Vuitton had personally told Felix that he’d love to design a dress for you so the two of you were currently at the design studio for Louis Vuitton trying to find the perfect dress for you to match with Felix for the event. You nod your head at the assistants as they move about you while you stand on the pedestal in front of the large mirrors. The design manager is standing to the side with her hip cocked out and a deep furrow on her brow as her eyes trail up and down your body that’s displaying one of the creations. She moves closer to you and smooths down the fabric at your side and you watch her silently hoping that this would be the last dress that you try on today. It has been hours since Felix brought you to the design studio and you’ve lost count of how many dresses you’ve tried on now after the design manager asked for the fifth dress to be brought out. You hold your breath and widen your eyes slightly hopeful that your torture will finally end but the manager sighs softly before shaking her head and you’re let down once again.

“It’s not right.” she says woefully before turning to her assistant. “Bring out the emerald green one please.” She instructs and the assistant nods before rushing out of the room. You try not to sigh too loudly but a soft one slips out of your mouth and the manager looks up at you with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry sweetheart. They’re just not sitting right and I don’t want to give you a dress that doesn’t fit you well and make you feel good in it.” she apologizes and you shake your head as your insecurities start to rise up inside you.

“No, no. It’s not your fault.” you tell her with another shake of your head and she smiles brightly at you with a determined look.

“Don’t worry I’m pretty sure this next dress will be the one. I’m sure of it. I think I’ve finally figured out what looks best on you. I’m sorry for it taking so long.” she said with a hopeful smile on her face while you nod your head at her. Your eyes dart over to the mirrors and you begin to critically gaze at your body as you stand in the beautiful dress. Your mind begins to whisper dark hurtful words that make you frown softly as you feel that they’re only the truth that you don’t want to believe. Just as you’re beginning to spiral in the dark thoughts you spot Felix sitting in a chair behind you not far from the pedestal, his legs are crossed at the knees and he’s resting his elbow on his knee while his chin rests on his fist. You can feel his eyes taking you in silently and you shift slightly at his attention which causes his eyes to dart up to yours. A gasp is punched out of your chest when you see how dark his eyes have gotten after watching you get changed into the different dresses since you got here and you know exactly what that look means, he’s ready to pounce on you as soon as the room clears. You’re trying to catch your breath as you take in his stoic expression while his stormy heated eyes make your pulse raise like that of prey being hunted. Your mind instantly empties of any dark hurtful thought about your body and you’re reminded of how his body moved against yours last night in bed, the way his hands gripped you tightly and held you flush against his body as he worshipped you with his mouth and body. Lust and desire spike within you and you’re suddenly drowning in the lustrous memories of how Felix made you reach your high three times last night.

Suddenly the assistant came walking back into the room holding a dress bag, and you’re slammed back into reality as your thoughts and memories popped like bubbles in your mind. You distracted yourself by watching her hang the bag up and unzipping it to show the stunning emerald green dress to the room. It’s absolutely beautiful and you’re feeling slightly unsure as your eyes take it in, would it fit you right? Would it look as good on you as it does on the hanger? Another assistant began helping you out of the dress you were currently wearing and as you stepped out of it your eyes caught onto Felix’s heated stare as he gazed at your exposed body. He shifted in his seat a little bit and you knew he was getting more comfortable. No doubt he was hard after watching you get undressed. You shifted on your feet feeling exposed and at his mercy while all he was doing was sitting there looking at you. Your body flushed with heat and you watched as a soft knowing smirk slipped onto Felix’s mouth before his eyes captured yours in another heated stare through the mirror.

“Alright, I think this is the one.” the manager said pulling your attention away from Felix, allowing you to begin breathing again without feeling the pressure of Felix’s attention. You step into the dress and the assistants help close it at the back and you sigh out in relief. The dress feels luxurious against your body and your eyes darted to the mirror while your mouth fell open slightly at how beautiful you looked in the dress. “Yep, this is the one.” the manager said and you nodded your head happily in agreement with her. Your eyes then darted over to Felix and saw him staring at you with lust filled heated eyes as he hid his mouth behind his fist.

The manager continues to adjust the dress on your body only pinning certain places so that the dress hugged your body perfectly effectively showing it off in the best way possible. You shifted from foot to foot as you felt Felix’s eyes raking up and down your form before the manager clapped her hands together loudly.

“I think that’s it. We’ll make the adjustments and deliver the dress to Felix as soon as it’s done. On the day of the event we’ll have a whole team to help you dress and get ready.” the manager informs you while the assistants help you back out of the dress and into a silk robe. You nod your head at her thanking her and her team before they all file out of the room leaving you and Felix alone together. Your eyes find his in the mirror and he’s suddenly standing at a glacial pace before stalking towards you. His gaze keeps you pinned in your spot on the pedestal and your body shivers under the silk robe.

“Do you know how absolutely beautiful you look?” he asks softly as he comes to stand in front of you holding his hand out for yours. He helps you down off the pedestal and guides you to stand in front of him as he positions the two of you in front of the mirrors. His hands slowly glide down your sides and you’re suddenly shaking in his arms knowing that this was going to be a repeat of last night.

“Felix.” you say in a whisper and he tuts out in sharp staccato beats before one of his hands comes up to rest against your neck guiding your head to stare into the mirror.

“I need you to watch Yeobo. I’m going to show you how stunning you are and I need you to watch.” he husks out to you as his mouth places open wet kisses against the back of your neck. You gasp as the hand that’s not resting on your neck slides up the front of your body and tugs the knot of the belt on your robe, the fabric hiding your body loosens and then his hand is sliding underneath the silk material to cup your breast in his large hand. You moan brokenly as your head tips back against his shoulder and your back arches prettily for him thrusting your breast into his hand. “No, no Yeobo. You need to watch.” he scolds you gently, gripping your neck a little tighter in his hand.

Your answering gasp is loud in the empty room as you drop your head forward to stare into the mirror as he continues to grope at your chest under your robe. The hand around your neck falls away to grope and cup your other breast sliding the silk off your body exposing more of your skin and lingerie as you whimper at his ministrations.

“Look at this body.” he instructs you and you try to focus your eyes on where his hands are gripping you. “So perfect for me. You fit in my hands like you were made for them. Made for me.” he husks out as he grinds up against your ass. You groan when you feel his hardness pressing up against you and make a conscious effort to keep your eyes on the mirror as he moves his hands against you. His hands glide up to your shoulders and gently slip the material from your body to let it pool at your feet before his hands are moving once again, one goes back up to your breasts but this time to pinch and flick against your straining nipples while his other travels down to slip into your underwear. “Oh Yeobo, have been this wet for long?” he asks huskily while nipping at the skin on your make making you keen and cry out loudly.

“Felix, please.” you whine out to him as your hands come up and slam against the mirror in front of you. He chuckles low in tone as he crowds you further against the mirror pressing his front flush against your back and grinding upwards into you.

“My poor Yeobo. Wet and needy for me even when your mind is trying to tell you lies about your body. Don’t worry Yeobo I’ll make sure to chase all those lies away as I show you how much I worship you. Just like last night yeah?” he coos at you and you cry out loudly once more as you press back against him.

Suddenly you’re gasping as your bra loosens against your skin and Felix helps you take it off letting it fall to the floor with your robe before his hands slip into your underwear and guide it down your legs. You step out of them and he’s back on you, his clothed body flush against your naked one making you moan for him. You can hear the sound of his zipper sliding down and then the weight of his hardness against your ass makes you whimper.

“Tell me Yeobo. Are you perfect for me?” he asks you and you stare at him dazedly through the mirror while nodding your head quickly. You’re consumed by you lust and desire for him and only want him to ease the ache inside your core. “Tsk, tsk. Use your words pretty girl.” he coos at you scolding you.

“Yes, yes I’m perfect for you. Please Felix, make me feel beautiful.” you moan out to him and he smirks at you through the mirror.

“I could never say no to you Yeobo.” he tells you before he’s suddenly slamming into you. You gasp and choke on air as you feel him stretch you out as you fingers curl against the mirror. You shift back against him trying to get him to move but he stills your hips for a second taking a moment to breathe with you. “My perfect little Yeobo. You feel like home to me.” he tells you and you cry out at his sentiment just before he pulls out and slams back into you. His hips thrust and cant up against you while he leans over you, his hands gripping your hips tightly and his eyes boring into yours through the mirror.

The two of you are a mess of hurried desperate thrust, high pitched whines from you and low deep grunts from him. His mouth is hot and wet as he kisses your neck and shoulders licking against your salty sweat slicked skin as he moves harshly against you.

“C’mon Yeobo, show how much you love it when I worship you. My pretty little Yeobo, no one can compare to you. You’re the only one for me. So beautiful, so sweet.” he coos at you lovingly and you’re gasping for air as your orgasm starts to rise up within you like a hot tidal wave of lava ready to singe and burn you with it’s magnitude.

“Felix, Felix, Felix. Please, oh god. Please!” you cry out and he groans softly at your words as you clamp down on him. Your orgasm suddenly drags you under its hot grip and you’re screaming loudly into the air as your back arches and your knees lock while your body begins to shake uncontrollably. Felix’s hands come up to cup and grip your breasts before he’s slamming into you once, twice, three times before he stills and you feel his release spurt into you. You whimper at the heat of it all and begin to melt against him as his arms wrap securely around your body holding you close to him.

“That’s it Yeobo.” he coos at you while holding you up. “Look how beautiful you are. My stunning gorgeous Yeobo.” he whispers to you as you both stare at each other in the mirror. He kisses your cheek sweetly and you giggle softly at his actions and how contrasting they are to what you both just did. “C’mon let’s go home. I’m not done showing you how perfect you are for me.” he instructs you and begins to help clean you up and dress you to head home.

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #skz smut #lee felix x reader #lee felix

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koqabear · 2 days ago

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been thinking about older step brother yeonjun who knows you're head over heels for him, who hears you moan his name through the thin walls when you masturbate at night, finally convinces you to have sex with him when you're watching a movie alone, and he knows it's wrong, and you know it's wrong, but it's too good to stop, even when you hear your parents getting home, so now you just have to keep quiet

tw: stepcest. dubcon, smut, mdni.

omfg i’ve been keeping this a secret for months but you literally managed to hit one of my wips right on the nose. who sent you here!!!! get out of my head !!!!

but oh dear... older stepbrother!yeonjun who is so quick to pick up on your attraction to him. thinks it's so cute that you try your hardest to hide it, play along with this whole "new family" thing every dinner-- listening intently as he talks about how life is while he's away at college, attending some big shot university while you chose to stay back home; it's what makes these moments with you all the better, knowing that despite barely being here, he still has you wrapped around his finger.

your parents having a romantic night out while the two of you stay at home, only to have yeonjun ask to watch a movie with you-- "I haven't hung out with you in so long," he'd say, "can't I just hang with my baby sis for a bit?"

smiles at the way you prickle at the term sis, knowing that you think of him as anything but family— he’s heard it, if those thin walls of yours are any proof— but you let him in your room anyway, letting him get comfortable in your bed as you settle down and leave space between the two of you; yeonjun makes sure that doesn't last.

it's so, so hard to resist; he's got you good, knows that you couldn't care less about the movie when he's hovering over you like this, whispering into your ear that "it's alright, no one has to know— just this once, hmm? please?" letting his hand wander between your thighs, feeling the way they open on instinct— warm cunt already dripping for him beneath that skirt you’re wearing, the one that you swore you wore because it was “comfortable”. no other reason.

he watches your eyes light up with shame, skin heated and flustered as you pretend to ignore his fingers that pump into you so nicely, his lips that press soft kisses on the column of your neck, whispering soft praises into your ear— but you can’t fool him, because your need is plastered all over your face; it shows in your hips that buck and grind against his palm, needy clit pressing against his hand and drawing soft whimpers from your lips— and he knows that you couldn’t care less about the movie. it’s not like you could even hear it over the wet, filthy squelches of his fingers slamming into your cunt.

you said you wouldn’t— you couldn’t, it was going too far— and yet you still find yourself pressed into the mattress, breathing helplessly against yeonjun’s pouty lips that make out with yours, sly tongue and teeth playing your mouth in ways you could never comprehend, head foggy and dazed as you take everything he gives you; hips rolling into you as his cock hits you so nice and deep, angling his hips to hit that spot that has you trembling and jolting against him, soft whimpers swallowed into his mouth, eating you up until he’s pulling away to mumble against your lips.

“so pretty— so cute, been wantin’ to have you like this for forever,” groaning at the way you wrap your leg around him, hands on his back pushing him forward so his body’s pressed against yours, “no one’s gonna know, okay? just between us— just for us to know…”

the dread and fear that paralyzes you when you hear the front door open downstairs isn’t matched by yeonjun— while you stiffen and press your hands against his chest, trying to push him away with frantic gasps and tears in your eyes— “oh my god, oh my god, get out!”— yeonjun merely shushes you and pulls you closer; his nails dig into your thigh and he wraps it tighter against him.

“it’s okay.”

“they’re gonna hear us—”

“no they’re not, it’s okay—”

“they’re gonna find out— please, go, i can’t, we can’t be seen like this—”

yeonjun puts his weight fully against you, pressing you into the mattress and flushing the air out your lungs— he places a hand on your mouth, dark eyes glaring sternly.

“be quiet, and they won’t find out.”

you stare at him with those wide, glistening eyes of yours, heart about to pound out of your chest— he gives you a fond smile.

“okay?”

a moment passes, and you gulp— you can feel his cock twitching desperately inside you, the commotion of your parents settling down in the living room downstairs—

and you nod.

#yeonjun smut #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun imagines #yeonjun fanfiction #yeonjun fanfic #yeonjun hard thoughts #yeonjun hard hours #txt fanfic #txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #tw stepcest #tw: stepcest

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alwaysanundertone · 2 days ago

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high sex drive | poly! marauders x fem! reader

hurt/comfort + smut

TW: NSFW, piv, non-protected sex, oral (f/m receiving)

Sirius was drawing patterns on your thigh, the tips of his fingers grazing the supple skin there ever so slowly while his head rested on your belly. Your other two boyfriends were cuddling each other, they were all spent after coming many times, so why weren’t you?

You found every touch maddening, it didn’t make sense for you to be so wound up; it wasn’t like you hadn’t gotten off, because you had, and plenty of times.

The problem was your sex drive. Your desire wasn’t something that your ex boyfriends accepted, nor did they deem it normal, one of them even suggested to go see a sex therapist one time, and you did. The session failed to give you answers, and after some time you just gave up, resigning yourself to a life of not voicing your own needs.

It went good, as good as faking being satisfied would go, but it wasn’t that bad after all. With these guys, though, it was really difficult to just pretend.

“Love?”

You looked up, finding three pairs of eyes focused on you. “Mh?”

“Where did you go, dove? You’ve been awfully quiet. Sirius just asked you if you are hungry, we thought about ordering something, is pizza good?”

You refrained from blushing, hating the fact that you weren’t able to mask your true feelings even in a peaceful moment like that. “Sorry, I’ve just been lost in my own thoughts, I guess” You chuckled, sounding suspicious even to your own ears. “Pizza’s good, thank you”

You felt Sirius mouth closing over your inner thighs, its teeth piercing the supple skin there, making you gasp. “Come on, darling, you know you can tell us anything”

The thing was that every boyfriend you had started this conversation like this, telling you that it was okay, that he would have taken care of you, and then when they found out that they couldn’t change you, they’d start to call you a nympho, making you ashamed of yourself. So no, you weren’t sure you could tell them anything.

“You’re doing it again, love” James was looking at you through pleading eyes, it was really hard to resist him when he was acting like this, but you had to. The guys were the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and you weren’t willingly letting them go for something as stupid as your sex drive.

“Oh, uh” You blushed. “I think I’m just kind of tired, you know? Nothing crazy”

There was a moment of silence, then Remus spoke up. “This thing won’t work if you’re keeping stuff from us, dove. You have to understand the importance of trust, if you don’t want to talk about it now, fine, but at least tell us the main topic that’s bothering you so much you’re not even listening to us when we’re talking to you”

His words felt like a harsh slap to your cheek, bringing true tears to the surface, which you tried to fight against, to no avail.

“Sorry, I don’t want to bother you, I do trust you, it’s just-“

“Was sex too much? Were you unconfortable? You’ve been like this since we had sex, did we hurt you?”

Sirius sounded horrified, and you couldn’t help the words that tumbled out of your mouth, you had to fix this.

“No, no it’s quite the opposite actually” They were all looking at you expectantly, you sighed. “It’s just- I have a high sex drive, okay? And I hate it, I know it’s twisted and disgusting and not right but I need to get off multiple times a day and sometimes having sex worsens the situation because then I keep wanting more and I hate it, you evet got me off so many times I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” Now that the words were comung out of your mouth, you couldn’t seem to stop them. “And I’ve been to sex therapists but they don’t know how to turn this off and just- I’m so sorry you’re probably regretting even-“

“Do not finish that sentence for the love of God”

You furrowed your brows. “Sirius what-“

“No, I should be the one saying sorry, I’ve been torturing you for the past hour and I didn’t even notice it.”

“And you’re not disgusting” James piped in.

“Dove, it’s nothing crazy, we can just-“

“No you can’t fix it.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth even if you tried, years of shame weighting you down. “Every ex that I had told me that they could fix it but it just doesn’t go away and I know it’s a burden” You pressed your hands to your face, hating this situation and hating yourself even more for letting it happen.

“Dove, would you please let us finish?” You nodded, your hands firmly locked in place. “Okay, I was trying to say that you can tell us if you’re needy and we’ll be really happy to help. There’s three of us, and if we aren’t available, there are your toys, you know? I don’t know what douchebags you dated, but this would never be a burden to us” His eyes were pleading you to believe him, and you found yourself wanting to.

“I think it’s anything but a burden, darling” You blushed slightly at Sirius, who was now laying on his belly, his head hovering right above your centre. You squirmed unconfortably, he smirked at you. “I’m being mean, aren’t I? Hovering just above you, so close yet so out of touch” His lips were now grazing your earlobe, making you shiver head to toe, the movement of his hands on your inner thigh maddening. “Such a pretty little thing, so flustered, what do you want now, love?”

You tried to tell him, but being vocal about your needs was something you weren’t used to, especially after years of slut shaming in your past relationship. You tried to avoid his question, wriggling your hips. “You know what I want”

He tsked. “No, I don’t. Do you want my mouth?” He lightly kissed you above your panties and shorts, making you grunt. “Mh, interesting. Maybe it’s my fingers that you want?” He caressed your nipples over the thin fabric of your -James’s- shirt. “My cock?”

The moment was interrupted by a pornographic grunt, coming from a very flustered James. “Fuck that’s so hot” He palmed his dick over his boxer briefs, making you blush.

“Look at him, darling, you’re making him needy. I think we should give him a show.”

You whimpered. “Sirius, please”

“I can give you everything you want, love. Just ask me”

You swallowed your pride. “I want your mouth, please”

He tutted. “Where do you want it? Here?” He grazed your forehead, the slightest touch sending you ablaze with need.

“No, Sirius, fuck, I want it on my pussy, please eat me out, I’m begging you” You couldn’t recognize your own voice, it sounded breathy, restrained, too close to begging.

“Gladly, darling” He pushed your shorts down, ripping the soft fabric of your panties in two. You didn’t have time to complain, his mouth immediately landing right on your clit.

His tongue started massaging the little bud, making you gasp as he flicked it repeatedly, moaning while doing so.

“You’re so wet, darling, I’m kind of mad, you know? You were really trying to keep this from me, from us” You shivered as you felt his index finger teasing your hole slowly, making you arch your back.

As he entered you, Remus was right above you, his dick in his hand, stroking your cheek with his free one. “Open up, dove, make me feel good”

He didn’t have to ask twice, your mouth opening right as Sirius thrusted into you with his fingers. “Fuck, she’s so wet James, fuck the show come here”

Suddenly, all three of your boyfriends were on you, James lining the crown of his cock at your entrance as Sirius lips closed right on your clit, sucking on it hardly. You felt one of Remus’s hands right over your right nipples, pinching it slightly, making you arch your back.

Your head was spinning, you felt awfully close to orgasming. “Fuck, love if you squeeze me like that I won’t last”

“That’s fine” Sirius piped in. “That’s why there’s three of us, to keep her satisfied” He tutted as you tried to close your thighs. “That isn’t nice now love, is it? Keep them open for us, stay still”

You loved when he was mean during sex, loved how he made you feel like you were at his mercy. “Sirius, close, god”

He chuckled. “You’re already coming, aren’t you? You’ve been such a good girl, telling us what you need, I think you deserve to come” You felt Remus’s cock swelling in your mouth, you rushed to swallow every drop of him, trying to focus on it, but it was difficult when you had two of the hottest guys you’ve ever seen between your thighs.

“Come now, darling. Be a good girl and come for us”

It was all it took for you to explode, your mouth wide open, eyes shut as you gripped Sirius head with all your force. He wasn’t complaining, though, still lapping at you, while James got off inside of you, his thrust loosing force and rhythm.

Just as you were coming down from your high, you felt another cock probing at your entrance.

“What…”

“Hush, love, I think you got one more in you, don’t you?”

You weren’t able to respond, your long-haired boyfriend immediately started rutting into you, his hips hitting the back of your thighs at a punishing rhythm.

“You’re so hot, fuck” The sounded that came out of you were pornographic, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, you could already tell that this orgasm was going to shake you thoroughly.

All you could manage to do, to say, was chant your boyfriends’ name like a prayer.

“Come on now, dove, give us another” Remus leaned down to kiss you, his tongue caressing yours, you couldn’t help but moan in his open mouth.

You obliged, drenching Sirius’s cock as your brain completely shut down. You could feel your boyfriend coming inside of you, but you just couldn’t bring yourself down to Earth.

You found yourself in a hot tub, James massaging your shoulders behind you while Remus stood kneeling outside of it, rubbing your feet.

“How do you feel? Good?”

You hummed, looking up at your long-haired boyfriend, your hand reaching up caress his face.

“Really, love? Me and Remus are both cuddling you, and it’s him you reward?” James’s tone had no bite in it, still you reached your other hand behind his head, scratching his scalp.

“Hey, it’s me who ate her out, it’s only fair, really” He winked at you.

There was a bit of silence, then you felt Remus hands wondering up your thighs.

“What-“

He smiled at you. “I think I can get another one out of you, just relax against Jamie and let me do the work”

You moaned lightly, nuzzling against your boyfriend’s toned chest, wondering what you’ve done to deserve them.

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drippingghoneyy · 2 days ago

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Nothing To You - Silco X Fem!Reader

Summary: You argued with Jinx, which escalated into a conflict with Silco. You need him to care about both you and Jinx's well-being. He needs to focus on what’s in front of him.

Genre/ Pairing: Smut, Make-Up Sex, Argument, Silco x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: MDNI!, SMUT 18+, Smoking/Drinking, Crying, tension, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, pet names, whore, piv, squirting, fingering, praise kink, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex ( f receiving), tongue fucking,... (lmk if I missed any!)

Word Count: 13k.

Notes: I am sorry it’s so long, I like to develop a story😭

I’ve been wanting to write about more people! So give me suggestions!

Reblog and like!! I read every comment, they make my whole day!

If you find any spelling errors, no you didn't. Grammarly don’t fail me now 🙂 If you don't like nsfw content, please don't read it!

The echoes of your footsteps bounced off the cold, concrete walls of the labyrinthine halls. Your breath came out in furious puffs, each exhale a declaration of your frustration. You had just come from a heated confrontation with Jinx, Silco's volatile and unpredictable daughter. Her eyes, usually a brilliant shade of blue that could charm the most stoic of souls, were now ablaze with rebellion.

The fight had started innocently enough. You'd only wanted to protect her, to shield her from the harsh realities of the world you both knew too well. "You're too young," you'd insisted, your voice tight with concern. "This mission is for the experienced, for those who have seen more than their share of blood."

But she was insistent, her voice rising with every word. "I can handle it," she spat, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "I'm not a child anymore."

You watched her, the fiery determination in her eyes, and felt a twinge of pride. But the fear for her safety was stronger. "You're not ready," you said firmly, the words cutting through the tension like a knife.

Jinx's eyes narrowed, the gears of defiance turning in her head. "You're not my mom," she retorted, the words landing like a slap across your face.

The words hung in the air between you, charged with accusation and anger. You felt a surge of heat rush through your veins, a potent cocktail of love and exasperation. "I'm still fucking your dad," you shot back, the words leaving your mouth before you had the chance to think twice. The room seemed to freeze, the air thick with the weight of your words. Jinx's cheeks flushed with a mix of shock and rage.

In the aftermath of the explosive statement, you felt your own emotions unravel. You hadn't meant to say it, not like that. It was a slip, a clumsy retort born of the tumult of feelings inside you. The bond you shared with Silco was complex, a tapestry of passion, loyalty, and the weight of shared secrets. But here it was, thrown out like a grenade in the middle of an already volatile situation.

Jinx's eyes went wide, the color draining from her face. She looked at you with a mix of horror and disbelief, the fight in her posture deflating. You could see the cogs in her mind spinning, trying to process what you'd just said.

It was a low blow, one you hadn't intended to deliver. But the words had slipped out, a reflexive defense against her accusation, a reminder that she wasn't the only one who felt misunderstood.

As the silence stretched taut between you, you wished you could snatch them back, swallow them down like a bitter pill. But it was too late. The damage was done.

You felt a pang of guilt, a stab of regret that you hadn't found a better way to communicate your fears. But the anger still smoldered within you, a coal that had been poked too many times. You weren't her mother, but you had played the role of protector for so long that it felt as if you were.

With a heavy sigh, you turned on your heel and stalked out of the room, leaving the echo of your footsteps to mock you as you went. You needed to clear your head, to figure out how to fix this mess before it spun out of control.

You knew that Silco would hear about this, and you dreaded the conversation that was sure to come. But for now, you just needed space, a place to breathe without the weight of the world pressing down on your shoulders.

The walk to Silco's office felt like an eternity, each step a deliberate stride away from the girl you had just hurt. The halls grew quieter as you approached, the usual cacophony of the undercity muffled by the thick walls of the building. You could almost feel the anger coiling back up inside you with every footfall, a serpent ready to strike again. Jinx had no right to say those things to you, not after everything you'd done for her.

You had been there for her, through the late nights when she couldn't sleep, the endless days of training, the tears shed in frustration. You had been the one to pick her up when she fell, to wipe her nose and whisper words of encouragement when she thought she couldn't go on. And now she was questioning your intentions, throwing your relationship with her father in your face like a weapon.

Finally, you arrived at the large, dark door that led to Silco's inner sanctum. The brass knob was cold under your hand, a stark reminder of the chilly reception you were likely to receive once you stepped over the threshold. A shiver ran down your spine, not from the cold but from the anticipation of what was to come. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the storm that was about to break.

Pushing the door open, you stepped into the dimly lit room, the scent of leather and oil lingering in the air. Silco sat on the couch, his usual aura of stoicism cracked, revealing the storm clouds gathering behind his eyes.

He looked up as you entered, his gaze sharp, demanding an explanation without uttering a single word. You felt the weight of his stare, a silent reprimand that was almost more powerful than any shout could ever be.

The office was a testament to his power, filled with artifacts of his reign over the city, each one a trophy of his cunning and might. Your eyes swept over them, a silent acknowledgment of the man you were about to face. Heart hammered in your chest, the echoes of the argument still resonating through you.

Silco's posture was relaxed yet commanding, one arm draped over the back of the leather couch, the other holding a half-smoked cigar that danced with embers at the tip. His legs were crossed, the ankle of one boot resting on the opposite knee.

He hadn't moved when you entered, his gaze unwavering and sharp, like the blade of a knife that hadn't been cleaned in a while. It was as if he had been carved from the very shadows that painted the room, a silent sentinel waiting for you to make your next move.

The tension grew as you approached, your steps slow and measured, trying to navigate the minefield of your own emotions. You knew he was a man of few words, but when he spoke, his voice had the power to shake the very foundations of your world. The air was thick with the scent of the cigar, mingling with the faint metallic tang of his power, a constant reminder of the volatility that lay beneath his calm exterior.

You swallowed hard, trying to organize your thoughts, but your mind was a whirlwind of doubt and anger. You hadn't wanted to fight with Jinx, but she had pushed you too far. And now here you were, about to face the consequences. You felt like you were on trial, standing before the man who had been both your lover and your boss, the man whose trust you had just shattered with a careless remark.

Silco took a long drag from the cigar, the embers glowing brighter for a moment before he exhaled a plume of smoke. The silence was a living, breathing entity, wrapping around you like a python, squeezing the words from your lungs.

You searched his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but his features remained a mask of stoicism. His eyes, however, told a different story, flickering with a mix of anger and disappointment that stung like acid.

Finally, he broke the silence. "You know why she's so eager to go?" His voice was low, a rumble of thunder in the quiet room. "She's trying to find her place in this world, just like you did." The words hung between you, a challenge and an accusation rolled into one. He took another drag, the smoke curling around his head like a crown of mist.

"You've been her mentor, her guide," he continued, his tone even but the message clear. "But she's not a child anymore, and she'll make her own choices, just as you did when you came to me." His words were like a knife twisting in your gut, each one cutting deeper than the last. You knew he was right, but it didn't make the sting any less potent.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught in your throat. What could you say to defend yourself? That you were just looking out for her? That you didn't want to see her get hurt? It all sounded so hollow now, standing in the face of his quiet dominance. You felt small, insignificant, like a bug that had dared to challenge a giant.

Silco's cigar smoldered between his fingers, the only sign of his own internal turmoil. His arm was casually thrown over the back of the couch, his legs crossed in a way that spoke of confidence and authority.

He didn't need to stand to intimidate; his presence filled the room, a looming specter that was impossible to ignore. The flame from the cigar cast flickering shadows on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the furrow of his brow.

The silence grew heavier, pressing down on you like a physical force. You could hear the tick of the clock on the wall, each second a countdown to the inevitable. Your palms grew slick with sweat, your heart racing like a caged animal desperate for escape.

But you couldn't look away from him, his eyes a piercing and seemed to bore into your very soul. You knew that when he finally spoke, his words would be measured.

"Is that what you really think?" Silco's voice was low and controlled, a stark contrast to the tumult inside you. "That she's not ready because she's just a child?" His gaze never wavered, a silent demand for you to justify your words. You felt the first flickers of defiance rekindle in your chest. How dare he question you like this? You had been there for her, had watched her grow from a scared girl into a powerful young woman.

"Jinx is more capable than you give her credit for," you shot back, the fire of the argument not quite extinguished. "But she's still impulsive, reckless. She doesn't think about the consequences of her actions."

The words tumbled out, fueled by the residual heat of your earlier confrontation. You had seen the destruction she could leave in her wake when she lost control, had picked up the pieces of her shattered experiments more times than you cared to count.

He leaned forward slightly, the shadows playing across his face, turning his expression into something more menacing. "And who made her that way?" he countered, his voice a soft growl. "Who taught her that chaos is a tool, that fear is power?"

The accusation hit you like a blow to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You hadn't meant to make Jinx into a monster; you'd just wanted to give her the strength to survive in a city that devoured the weak without a second thought.

You felt the need to defend yourself, to explain the years of care and guidance you had given her. "I taught her to be strong," you said, your voice firm despite the tremble in your hands. "To stand up for herself. But she's still so young, Silco. She doesn't understand the gravity of what we're doing here." You took a step closer to him, the anger in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar he held between his fingers.

Silco's silence was a wall, an impenetrable fortress that you were desperately trying to breach. You could see the muscles in his jaw tighten, the only outward sign of his own inner conflict.

"You're not her mother," he said finally, his voice as cold as the steel of the weapons that lined the walls. "You're her... mentor. And as such, it's your responsibility to support her, not hold her back."

The accusation stung, but you weren't about to back down. You raised your chin, a sardonic smile playing on your lips. "That's right," you said, the words dripping with sarcasm. "I'm not her mom. I'm nothing to her, apparently."

The smile didn't reach your eyes, a stark contrast to the warmth that had once been there when you talked about her. "And you're not her dad, but you're okay with her throwing herself into danger?"

The air in the room grew colder, the tension thick enough to slice through with a knife. You watched the embers of his cigar burn, a silent metaphor for the smoldering anger between you. Silco took a moment, his gaze never leaving yours. When he finally spoke, his words were measured, each one chosen with precision. "I've always known that one day, she would make her own decisions. And I trust her to make the right ones."

The room was a battlefield, and every word was a weapon. You felt the sting of his doubt, the accusation that you were trying to control Jinx's life rather than guide it. "Fine," you said, your voice tight with unshed emotion. "If that's what you think, then I won't stand in her way." You turned on your heel, ready to leave, to find someplace where the walls weren't closing in on you.

But before you could take a step, Silco's hand shot out, his grip on your arm like a vice. "Don't," he said, his voice a warning growl. "Don't you dare walk away from this." His eyes searched yours, looking for something, anything that would tell him you weren't going to abandon her.

You met his gaze, the challenge in your eyes unwavering. "I'm not walking away," you said, your voice low and steady. "But I'm not going to watch her throw herself into the fire without a second thought." The silence between you was a battle of wills, two forces colliding, neither willing to back down.

Silco's grip on your arm tightened, his eyes burning with a quiet intensity that was more powerful than any shout. His silence was a cage, a prison that held you in place, forcing you to confront the truth of his words.

You could feel the anger pulsing through your veins, a red-hot fury that demanded release. But you knew that now was not the time for shouting matches. Now was the time for reason, for understanding.

"You know what she said to me," you whispered, the pain of her words still raw. "How could you defend her after that?" The question hung in the air, a challenge that demanded a response. Silco's grip on your arm didn't loosen, but his gaze softened slightly, the anger in his eyes flickering with something else.

He took a moment before speaking, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very floor beneath your feet. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said, the words a gentle admission. "But she needs to find her own path, just as you did." His eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, for a sign that you would relent.

But the anger inside you was a living thing, a beast that had been poked one too many times. You pulled free from his grasp, your voice rising. "And what about me?" you demanded, your eyes flashing. "What about what I need?" The words hung in the air, a declaration of the tumult of emotions that swirled within you.

Silco's expression was unreadable, a mask that had been honed through years of navigating the treacherous waters of power and control. "You know I care for you," he said, his voice low and steady. "But my loyalty is to this city, to the people who depend on us." The words were a slap, a cold reminder that in the grand scheme of things, you were just another pawn in his game of dominance.

You felt the anger bubble up inside you, threatening to spill over. "Is that all I am to you?" you snapped, the words sharp as a whip. "Just another tool to be used and discarded when you deem it necessary?" The room seemed to shrink around you, the walls closing in as your voice grew louder.

Silco's expression remained impassive, his silence a wall that you couldn't breach. It was infuriating, his calm demeanor only serving to fuel the fire in your belly. "Fuck you, Silco," you spat, the words tasting bitter on your tongue. "I'm not going to be nothing to anyone, especially not to someone who can't see what's right in front of them."

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the office. The door slammed shut behind you, the echo echoing down the hall like the final nail in a coffin. The rage inside you was a living, breathing creature now, pushing you to walk faster, to run away from the pain of his words.

You didn't know where you were going, only that you needed to get out of there. The labyrinth of the undercity stretched out before you, a maze of shadows and danger. But anywhere was better than the suffocating confines of that room, the room where you had just realized that maybe, just maybe, you had been wrong about everything.

As you stepped out into the cool night air, the sounds of the city assaulted your senses. The distant rumble of a hextech engine, the shouts of a street fight, the wail of a siren. It was a symphony of chaos that you had once found comfort in, but now it felt like a taunt, a reminder of the turmoil within.

You didn't look back, didn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you break. You just kept walking, your boots pounding against the pavement like the beating of a war drum. The buildings grew taller, the streets more treacherous, but you didn't care.

The wind whipped around you, carrying the scent of rain on the horizon. You felt the first drops hit your face, cold and sharp like tears. But you didn't stop. You couldn't. You had to keep moving, had to put as much distance between you and that conversation as you could.

The rain grew heavier, soaking through your clothes, but the chill was nothing compared to the coldness in your heart. You had given so much to Jinx, had been there for her when Silco couldn't. And yet here you were, feeling like you had been discarded, tossed aside like yesterday's newspaper.

You didn't know where you would go, but you knew you couldn't stay. Not now. Not after what had been said. The rain mingled with your tears, blurring the world around you into a haze of color and light. But you didn't let it slow you down. You just kept walking, into the heart of the storm.

Silco's quiet dominance had always been a comfort to you, a rock you could cling to in the chaos of your life. But now it felt like a prison, a cage that kept you from being seen for who you truly were.

You had been his confidant, his right hand, his... something. But now, in the cold light of his accusation, you realized that maybe you were nothing more than a pawn in his grand scheme.

The raindrops stung your skin like tiny needles, each one a painful reminder of your own insignificance. You told him to go fuck himself, the words a declaration of your anger and frustration. He had no right to speak to you like that, to question your love and devotion to him, to Jinx. But he had, and you had no choice but to leave.

The door to the building slammed shut behind you, the finality of it echoing through the alleyways. The city was a blur of shadow and neon, a living, breathing creature that didn't care about your pain. You stumbled through the streets, the rain soaking you to the bone. But you didn't care. You felt alive, the electricity of the storm pulsing through your veins.

You needed to find somewhere to think, somewhere to breathe. Your heart was racing, your mind a maelstrom of emotion. You didn't know what the future held, only that you couldn't go back to the way things were. The bond you shared with Silco had been shattered, and you weren't sure if it could ever be repaired.

Three weeks had passed since that fateful argument, three weeks of silence that stretched like a noose around your neck.

You had thrown yourself into your work, into the very chaos that had once brought you and Silco together. The Undercity knew you, knew the woman who had built an empire by his side. And it was that knowledge that kept you going, the whispers of your name on the streets a balm to your bruised ego.

You took solace in the familiar embrace of the city's underbelly, the grime and the grime of the streets a comforting reminder of your roots. The whispers grew louder, the rumors spreading like wildfire. You had left Silco, they said. You had abandoned your post. But you knew the truth, and it was that truth that kept you going. You weren't leaving; you were fighting for your place.

Sevika had become your confidante, your partner in crime. You two had always had a bond, a shared history of surviving the worst that life could throw at you. And now, as you sat in the dimly lit bar, her hand on your shoulder, you felt the warmth of camaraderie seep into your very bones. She had seen you at your lowest, had picked you up when you were nothing but a broken doll in the hands of fate.

The whiskey burned a trail down your throat, the warmth spreading through your chest like a comforting embrace. The bar was your sanctuary now, the neon lights and the smell of stale beer a stark contrast to the cold, sterile halls of Silco's fortress. You had made it a point to be seen here, to be heard. You didn't need his approval to be important; you had the city's.

The patrons whispered as you entered, their eyes following your every move. They knew you, knew the fire that burned in your soul. You were a legend, a hero, and you were back in the game. Each night you and Sevika would sit, plotting your next move, drinking and laughing and living. It was a dangerous dance, but one that felt so right.

The air was thick with the scent of desperation and hope, a heady mix that only the Undercity could provide. For three weeks, you had avoided Silco's fortress, the place where your heart had once felt like it had found a home.

But now, it was just a prison you had escaped from, the bars of his expectations and the coldness of his words still echoing in your ears. The city had been your playground long before he had entered your life, and it welcomed you back with open arms.

That night, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick with oil and the occasional puddle of rainbow-colored chemical runoff. You were nestled in the corner of the bar, nursing a whiskey and contemplating your next move when you heard the door creak open. The air grew heavy with anticipation, and you felt a pair of eyes on you, unseen but palpable.

Jinx's footsteps were tentative as she approached, her boots clicking against the wet cobblestone floor. She looked like a lost kitten, drenched and shivering, her eyes wide and searching. She stopped a few feet away, her rain-soaked hair plastered to her face, her clothes clinging to her slender frame. The bar patrons had fallen quiet, sensing the tension that crackled between you like an unseen electric current.

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, when she spoke. "I'm sorry," she said, the words thick with unshed tears. "I didn't mean it. I know you're not my mom, but... I don't know. I just wanted to go out there and prove myself." She paused, taking a shaky breath. "But maybe you're right. Maybe I do need to learn more before I can handle the big missions."

The room held its breath as you looked up at her, the whiskey in your hand frozen mid-sip. Her eyes searched yours, looking for any sign that you would forgive her, that you would stay. And for a moment, you felt the anger melt away, replaced by the warmth of the love you had for her, the love that had led you to this point.

"I don't want you to leave," she said, her voice trembling. "I need you, I need you as... as someone who cares...please." The raw vulnerability in her words was like a punch to the gut, reminding you of all the times she had looked to you for guidance, for love, for acceptance. You set the glass down, the sound of it hitting the table like a gavel, final and irrevocable.

For a moment, the bar was still, the only sound the steady drip of water from Jinx's sodden clothes. You studied her, the young woman who had once been a scared, angry girl, and now stood before you with the beginnings of wisdom etched into her features. The realization that you had been her anchor, her beacon in the storm, filled you with a strange mix of pride and sorrow.

"I'm not going anywhere," you said, your voice softening. "But you need to understand, I'm not here to hold your hand through every mission. I'm here to teach you, to make sure you don't make the same mistakes I did." You reached out, taking her cold hand in yours, feeling the tremor of her fear. "And if that means you go out there and kick some serious ass, then I'll be proud of you."

A tentative smile ghosted across her lips, the first sign of the Jinx you knew and loved. "But," you added, "you need to learn when to pick your battles." You squeezed her hand gently, feeling the tension in her fingers. "I'll always be here for you, but I can't be everywhere at once. And if you go off half-cocked, you're going to get yourself killed."

The room exhaled collectively as the tension eased, the patrons returning to their conversations and drinks. But the moment between you and Jinx was still palpable, a silent understanding that had been forged in the fires of anger and regret. "I know," she said, her eyes meeting yours, "I just... I don't want to let you down."

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, the weight of her fear and hope resting in your palms. You pulled her into a tight embrace, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, the steady beat of her heart beneath your own. "You could never let me down," you whispered into her ear. "You're already more than I could have ever asked for."

For a brief moment, the chaos of the bar faded away, and it was just the two of you, the rain outside a distant memory. You could feel the weight of the world on her shoulders, the burden of expectations and the fear of failure that had driven her to push so hard.

And in that instant, you realized that she wasn't just your student or even a daughter-figure; she was a piece of your soul, a living, breathing part of you that had grown from the ashes of your own past.

Her apology hung in the air like a shimmering thread of hope, the first step toward mending the fracture that had formed between you. She knew she had gone too far, that her words had cut deeper than she had intended. And as she stood there, shivering from the cold and the weight of her own realization, you saw the truth of what Silco had said: she was growing up, finding her own path.

You held her tighter, the warmth of her body seeping into your cold, hardened heart. "You never will," you murmured, your voice a gentle promise. "You're more than just a weapon, Jinx. You're... everything." The words slipped out, a declaration of the love you had never truly allowed yourself to acknowledge.

You felt her relax into your embrace, her shoulders dropping as the tension drained from her. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice muffled against your chest. "I'm sorry for what I said. I just wanted to be like you, to be strong." Her admission was a knife that twisted in your heart, a reminder of the fine line you had been walking as her mentor.

You pulled back, wiping the tears from her cheeks with your thumb. "You are strong, Jinx," you said, your voice firm. "But strength isn't about rushing into every fight. It's about knowing when to stand your ground, and when to wait." You searched her eyes, looking for the spark of understanding, the light that would tell you she heard you.

Her eyes searched yours, the neon glow of the bar light playing across the wet planes of her face. "I'll try," she said, her voice small and hopeful. "I promise." And in that moment, you knew that you couldn't leave her, not now, not ever. You had made a promise to yourself, to Silco, and to the city, but most importantly, to her.

Three days of silence had felt like an eternity.

You had avoided the fortress, not ready to face the man who had questioned your place in his world. But the call had come, a summons that couldn't be ignored.

Twice you had been sent for, and twice you had ignored it. It was only when the third message arrived, the tone more insistent, that you knew you had to face him.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. You had spent the last seventy-two hours thinking of every sharp word, every accusation you wanted to hurl at him.

But as you approached the doors to his office, you realized that anger was a blunt instrument. What you needed now was precision, the scalpel of wit and truth.

You were dragged before him, not literally but by the weight of the words you had left unsaid. His eyes searched yours, a mix of anger and something else, something you couldn't quite place. But you didn't back down. You had been waiting for this moment, had been waiting to make him understand.

"You owe me an apology," you said, the words cutting through the silence like a knife. Silco's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw tensing as he took a puff of his cigar, the smoke curling around him like a serpent.

"For what?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room.

"For questioning me," you said, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. "For making me feel like I'm nothing to you or Jinx." The room was a battleground, and you had drawn your line in the sand. You had come to his fortress not as a supplicant, but as a warrior demanding respect.

Silco's gaze never left yours, the unspoken challenge in his eyes making your blood boil. "You're more than just a mentor to her," he said finally, the words a concession but not the apology you sought. "But you need to understand, she's not a child anymore." The anger in your heart was a living, breathing creature now, a beast that demanded to be heard.

"And what about me?" you shot back, the fire in your eyes matching the flame of the cigar between his fingers. "What am I to you?" The question hung in the air, a silent challenge that demanded an answer. Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers burning bright.

"You're... important," he said, the word a grudging admission. "But I can't have you putting her in harm's way because you're afraid to let go." His voice was firm, the finality of it a slap in the face. But you weren't about to let him off the hook.

"And what if I'm not afraid of her growing up?" you retorted, your voice rising. "What if I'm afraid of losing her, of losing what we've built together?" The words echoed off the walls, a declaration of the fear that had been festering in your heart for so long.

Silco leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning beneath his weight. "Is that what you think?" he said, his voice a mix of anger and disbelief. "That I don't care about what happens to her?"

You stepped closer, the heat of your fury warming the cold, sterile room. "It's what you make me feel," you said, your voice trembling. "Every time you push her into danger, every time you treat me like I'm disposable." The words were a knife to the heart, the pain of his indifference a fresh wound that had yet to scab over.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the embers of his cigar casting a warm, orange glow across his face. "You're not disposable," he said, the words a whisper. "But you have to understand, this is bigger than us." His hand reached out, the gesture almost tender, but you stepped back, the space between you a yawning chasm.

"Bigger than us?" you spat. "Is that all I am to you? Just a pawn to be moved around on your board?" The rage was a living, breathing thing now, a storm that threatened to consume you both. His silence was a knife twisting in your gut, a silent confirmation of your fears.

"I've given you everything," you said, the words ripped from your chest. "Every part of me, and for what? To be nothing more than a tool to you?"

The accusation hung in the air, a toxic cloud that choked the very essence of your relationship. Silco's eyes remained on you, unwavering, as if he could bore through your skull with his gaze alone.

"I've bled for you," you continued, the anger a living flame in your voice. "I've killed for you, loved for you, and what do I get in return? To be treated like I'm disposable?" The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's silence was a wall, impenetrable and cold.

"Do you even know what love is?" you demanded, your voice cracking with the weight of your pain. "Or is it all just power and control to you?" Each word was a dagger thrown at his heart, a challenge to the man who had once been your everything. But now, you weren't so sure.

Silco took a long drag on his cigar, the embers glowing in the dark. "Love is a luxury we can't afford," he said finally, his voice a harsh whisper. "This city, this war, it doesn't care about love." The room felt colder, the air thick with the bitterness of his words.

The silence between you was a scream, a howl of anger and hurt that echoed through the empty halls of the fortress. You felt the weight of his dismissal, the coldness of his gaze, and for a moment, you weren't sure if you could stand it. But you had come this far, and you weren't going to back down now.

"You don't give a fuck about me," you said, the words a declaration of your pain. "You use me for what I can do, for the power I give you."

The accusation hung in the air, a grenade waiting to explode. Silco's expression didn't change, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a spark of something that looked suspiciously like guilt.

"I've given you everything," you continued, your voice shaking. "My heart, my soul, my body." You paused, the words like a punch to his gut. "And what do I get in return?" You waited for an answer, but he remained silent, the smoke from his cigar the only indication of his breathing.

"I've built a life for you," you said, the anger now a cold, hard knot in your stomach. "I've raised your daughter, for fuck's sake, and this is how you treat me?" You stepped closer to him, the gap between you closing like a vice. "Like I'm nothing more than a whore you can use and discard?"

The room was a pressure cooker, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Silco's eyes searched yours, looking for a way out, but you weren't about to let him off the hook. "You don't get to do that," you whispered, your voice a dangerous promise. "You don't get to use me like that."

He took a deep breath, the cigar still clenched between his teeth. "I know you're more than that," he said, the words a begrudging admission. "But this city, this war..." He trailed off, the excuses on his tongue tasting bitter.

"This city, this war," you spat, mimicking his words. "It's always about that, isn't it? It's never about us, about what I've given to you, what I've sacrificed for you!" Your voice echoed through the stark emptiness of the room, each word a hammer blow to the foundation of your relationship.

Silco's expression was a mask, unreadable and unyielding. "You know why I do what I do," he said, his voice low and measured. "You know the stakes." The implication was clear: you were being selfish, thinking only of your own feelings when the fate of the city hung in the balance.

"The stakes?" you scoffed. "What about my stake in this, Silco? What about the love and loyalty I've given you?" Your eyes searched his, desperate for some sign of emotion, some spark of the man you had once loved. But his gaze remained flat, his heart a fortress you hadn't the key to breach.

"You're right," he said finally, the words a cold slap to the face. "You're not just a pawn, you're a queen. A queen who's been playing by the wrong set of rules." His words hung in the air like a noose, the gravity of his admission heavy and suffocating.

You took a step back, the weight of his words pushing you away from him. "So, what now?" you asked, the anger in your voice a whisper of what it had been. "Do we just pretend like nothing's changed?"

Silco's hand reached out to you, the cigar forgotten, his eyes searching yours. "We find a way to move forward," he said, the words a plea and a command. "For Jinx, for the city, for us." But you could see the doubt in his gaze, the fear that maybe the damage was irreparable.

You looked at his outstretched hand, the veins standing out against his pale skin, the dirt beneath his fingernails a testament to the battles he had fought. And for a moment, you wanted to take it, to believe that things could go back to the way they were. But the words stuck in your throat, the anger a living flame that refused to be extinguished.

"How can I trust you?" you whispered, the pain in your voice a living, breathing entity. "How can I believe that you won't just toss me aside again?" The room was a cage, the walls closing in around you, the air thick with the scent of his cigar and the weight

of his silence.

"You have to," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "You're the only one who can reach her, who can teach her the way of the world without breaking her." His hand hovered between you, a bridge over the chasm of your emotions. "I need you." The admission was raw, the vulnerability in his voice a stark contrast to the steel you were used to.

You felt the anger drain from you, replaced by a tired resignation. "Fine," you said, your voice a whisper. "But you need to understand, I won't be a pawn in your games anymore." You took a deep breath, the air filling your lungs with the toxic fumes of your anger. "I'm more than just a weapon for you to wield."

Part 2: bc it's long...

Silco nodded, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "I know," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "You've been more than I could ever ask for." His voice was gruff, the words clearly difficult for him to say. But there was sincerity in his tone, a warmth that you hadn't heard in weeks.

He leaned in, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, the calloused thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "You're not just a weapon to me," he said, his gaze searching yours. "You're the heart of this city, the fire that keeps us all fighting." His words were a balm to the wound he had inflicted, a gentle reminder of the respect and admiration he had for you.

"You've given me a reason to believe in something more than just power," he continued, his voice a low rumble. "You've given me hope."

The warmth of his hand was a stark contrast to the coldness of his usual demeanor, the tenderness of his touch a promise that maybe, just maybe, there was more to him than the cold, calculating leader he presented to the world.

You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words. "But I need to hear it," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need to hear you say it." The words hung in the air, a silent plea for validation, for the reassurance that you hadn't been a fool for giving him your heart.

Silco took a deep breath, the cigar smoke swirling around him like a mist. "I trust you," he said, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped. "With everything I have, with everything I am." His eyes searched yours, the depth of his feelings laid bare. "You're more than just a lover, more than just a mother figure to Jinx."

He paused, the silence stretching between you like a tightrope. "You're my partner," he said finally, the words a declaration that resonated through the room. "My equal in every way that counts." The warmth in his voice was a promise that he saw you as more than just a means to an end, more than just someone to share his bed and his battles.

"You're the one who understands me," he went on, his thumb still tracing the line of your jaw. "You see the man beneath the monster, and you still choose to stand by my side." His eyes searched yours, looking for the flicker of doubt that had been festering in your heart. "I need you," he said again, the words a lifeline thrown into the stormy sea of your emotions.

"You're the smartest, most capable person I know," he murmured, his hand sliding down to rest on your shoulder. "You've kept me sane in this insane world we live in." The praise was like a balm to your bruised ego, the recognition of your worth a salve to the wounds he had unknowingly inflicted.

"I'm sorry," he said, the words heavy with regret. "I should have realized sooner what you needed, what we both needed." His eyes searched yours, looking for a spark of forgiveness. "But I'm here now," he added, his voice a gentle promise. "And I'll do everything in my power to make it right."

The silence was a living, breathing thing in the room, a creature that fed on your doubt and anger. But as you looked into Silco's eyes, you could see the truth there, the raw regret that he had kept hidden behind his armor of power and control.

"I'm sorry," he said again, the words a whisper that seemed to echo off the cold, stone walls. "I didn't realize what you needed from me."

His hand slid down to yours, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in your bones. "I've been so focused on the war, on keeping this city alive, that I forgot what it was I was fighting for." His grip tightened, a silent plea for you to understand, to forgive. "You've been here, by my side, and I've taken you for granted."

You felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mix of anger and pain that had been building for weeks. "You didn't just not realize," you said, your voice shaking. "You didn't even care." The accusation was a dagger thrown, aimed straight at his heart.

Silco flinched, the pain in your voice a blow he hadn't been prepared for. "That's not true," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I've always cared, more than you know." He stepped closer, his hand moving to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. "I just didn't know how to show it."

His eyes searched yours, looking for some sign that he had reached you, that you could find it in your heart to forgive him. "But I see it now," he whispered, his breath hot against your cheek. "I see what you've been trying to tell me, and I'm sorry for being so blind." The room was a cocoon of regret, the air thick with the weight of his words.

"I'm sorry for treating you like you're disposable," he continued, his voice a rough whisper. "For not seeing what was right in front of me." His hand slid to the back of your neck, the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin. "You're not just a weapon, you're the soul of this city."

You felt the weight of his apology, the gravity of his words pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," he said, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness.

"But I've been so focused on winning, on keeping this city from falling apart, that I lost sight of what's truly important." His grip on you tightened, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. "You're what's important."

The room was a prison, the silence a living creature that seemed to hold its breath, waiting for your response. The rain outside had stopped, the only sound the distant echo of the city's heartbeat. You searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his apology. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw the man you had fallen in love with, not the monster he had become.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, the words a prayer. "I should have been there for you, should have noticed what you needed." His eyes searched yours, a silent plea for understanding. "I got lost in the chaos, in the need to survive." His thumb stroked your cheek, a gentle caress that sent a shiver down your spine. "I've been so focused on keeping the city standing that I forgot to look at the woman holding it up."

You nodded, the gesture almost imperceptible. It was a start, a crack in the wall of anger you had built around your heart. "I know," you said, your voice a whisper. "But I need you to understand, Sil." Your eyes met his, the depth of your emotions a raging river. "I'm not just a weapon to be used, not just a body to be shared." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the lines that had been crossed.

"I've missed you," he murmured, his hand moving to cradle your face. "More than I can say." The raw honesty in his voice was like a warm embrace, a promise that he would try to be better. You felt a softening in your chest, the ice around your heart beginning to melt. "Can I make it up to you?" he asked, his gaze never leaving yours.

You nodded, the first glimmer of hope breaking through the storm. "We'll start with talking," you said, your voice firm despite the tremor of emotion. "Really talking, not just about missions and strategy." You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his skin a comfort. "I need you to see me, all of me." The vulnerability in your eyes was a silent demand for the connection that had been lost.

Silco's eyes searched yours, the question clear. "What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

You took a deep breath, the words a declaration of what you needed. "I want you to be present," you said, the words a whisper. "To listen, to care, to be the man I know you can be." The room was a bubble, the outside world forgotten as you waited for his response.

"I'll do better," he said, his voice a low rumble filled with conviction. "For you, for Jinx, for us." His hand slid down from your face to rest on the small of your back, pulling you closer until your chests met. You felt the heat of his breath on your lips, the warmth of his body seeping into yours.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you like a river retreating from the shore. His grip tightened, his other hand sliding around to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was at once gentle and demanding, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips in a silent question.

You opened for him, the kiss deepening as his hands roamed your body, a silent apology for the weeks of neglect. His thumb brushed the pulse point at the base of your neck, the pressure of his touch a reminder of the power he held. But in this moment, you were the one in control, the one dictating the terms of their reconciliation.

Silco's kiss grew more insistent, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you closer. You could feel the hardness of his erection pressing against you, a testament to his desire. But you didn't yield immediately, instead pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "You have to mean it," you murmured, the words a warning and a promise.

He nodded, the seriousness in his gaze unmistakable. "I do," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll spend the rest of my days making it up to you." His hands slid down to grip your waist, his touch a silent promise. You felt your resolve waver, the anger giving way to something softer, something more vulnerable.

You leaned into him, the kiss deepening as his hands moved to your back, pressing you closer. His touch was a brand, a claim that you hadn't felt in so long, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the tension in his body, the need to prove himself to you, to show you that he was more than just a monster.

Silco's hands roamed lower, cupping your ass, and you gasped into his mouth as he lifted you onto his desk, the wood cool against your skin. His kiss grew more urgent, his tongue delving deeper, a silent vow to never let you go again. You wrapped your legs around his waist, the heat of his body searing through your clothes.

You felt his hands slip under your shirt, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin of your lower back. A shiver of pleasure rippled through you as his touch grew bolder, his fingers tracing the line of your bra before unhooking it with a practiced ease. He broke the kiss to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it aside to reveal your naked breasts to the warm air.

His eyes devoured you, the hunger in his gaze sending a bolt of desire straight to your core. He leaned in to kiss your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, and you moaned, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through your body. His mouth moved lower, kissing and biting along your collarbone, his hands now working on the buttons of your pants.

As he pushed them down, you could feel the wetness between your legs, the ache of need that had been building since you saw him standing there, so strong and sure of himself. But now, in this moment, you knew he was yours, that he needed you just as much as you needed him.

The sound of your pants hitting the floor was like a gunshot in the quiet room, the only other noise the heavy thud of your hearts beating in sync. Silco stepped back for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, exposed and willing. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding with a mix of desire and determination, before his hands returned to your body.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice a soft growl that sent shivers down your spine. His thumbs traced the insides of your thighs, the gentle pressure guiding you wider. "Every inch of you, so perfect." His eyes never left yours as he leaned in, his mouth capturing your earlobe in a gentle nip that had you gasping. "Do you trust me?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, the words lost in the wave of sensation that flooded you as he began to kiss his way down your body. His mouth was a brand, leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. Each touch was deliberate, each caress a silent promise to never take you for granted again. His hands were firm, his touch sure as he explored you, his thumbs teasing your inner thighs.

"I'm going to make this good for you," he said, his voice a low murmur that sent your pulse racing. "I'm going to show you how much you mean to me." His mouth found your center, his tongue delving into your folds with a gentle insistence that had you arching your back. His eyes remained on yours, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every gasp that tore from your lips.

As he tasted you, Silco's hands moved to your hips, his grip firm as he guided your movements, setting the rhythm of your hips against his face. "You're so wet," he murmured, his voice thick with need. "So perfect." His tongue circled your clit, the touch light and teasing, building the tension within you until you were trembling.

You felt your nails dig into the soft flesh of your palm, the pain a welcome distraction from the pleasure that was threatening to consume you. "Sil," you moaned, his name a prayer on your lips. His eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze holding you captive as his tongue swiped from your entrance to your clit, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through you. "Let me taste you, let me make you feel good." His tongue delved deeper, the wet heat of his mouth surrounding you, the pressure building until you were sure you would shatter. He knew just how to touch you, how to make you come apart in his arms.

His thumbs stroked the insides of your thighs, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the fervent kisses he was placing along your slit. "You're so wet for me," he murmured, the words a warm breath against your sensitive flesh. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with need, but also with a gentle concern that made your heart ache. "I'm going to make you come so hard, sweets.”

With a flick of his tongue, he swiped from your entrance to your clit, the suddenness making you gasp. The sensation was exquisite, a spark that ignited the fire that had been smoldering within you for weeks.

His eyes never left yours, watching for every twitch of your body, every gasp that slipped past your lips. His touch was both dominant and tender, his mouth moving with a confidence that left no doubt in your mind that he knew exactly what he was doing.

He dipped his tongue in again, this time lingering just a second longer before pulling away, drawing a long, low moan from you that you quickly muffled with your hand. The sound of your pleasure seemed to spur him on, his movements becoming more insistent, more demanding.

His thumbs slid up to press against your clit, his tongue delving deep into your wetness, filling you up before retreating again. The rhythm was a symphony of sensation, a dance that you had almost forgotten in the chaos of the past weeks.

Silco's eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire reflecting the flickering candlelight. "You're so responsive," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "So perfect, gods I’ve fucking missed you." His thumbs began to rub circles around your clit, the gentle pressure building the tension that had you teetering on the edge of release. His tongue swiped through your folds, tasting you, savoring you as if you were the sweetest delicacy.

"Silco," you whispered, your voice trembling with need as he focused his attention on your clit, swirling and flicking his tongue with a finesse that had your eyes rolling back in your head. Each stroke was a declaration of his intent, a promise to never let you feel unwanted again. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held you in place, urging you closer to the brink.

He slipped two fingers into you, the sudden intrusion making you gasp. His eyes remained locked on yours, watching as your pupils dilated with pleasure. "So tight," he murmured, his voice thick with approval. "So fucking perfect."

He curled his fingers, the sensation of him stretching you sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. His thumb circled your clit before using his mouth again, the pressure building until you thought you might scream.

Silco's tongue was a masterful tool, flicking and swirling around your clit, driving you wild. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You nodded, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure built. His movements deliberate and focused, as if he was memorizing every twitch of your body, every gasp that escaped your lips.

He added a third finger, the stretch making you squirm on the desk. "You're so wet for me," he said, his voice a low purr that made your toes curl. "So fucking wet." His eyes searched yours, watching as the pleasure built, the tension in your body tightening like a coil ready to snap. His mouth moved to your clit again, the gentle sucking sending shockwaves through your body.

You felt your orgasm building, the pressure coiling low in your belly. "please," you moaned, your hand moving to his hair to tug him closer.

He took the hint, his mouth closing around your clit, the suction a delicious pressure that had you biting down on your hand to keep from screaming. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, the sensation making your legs shake.

He was relentless, his tongue swiping and teasing, his fingers curling and pumping in a rhythm that had you on the edge. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire and love a lifeline in the storm of sensation. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a demand that you couldn't refuse. "Let go."

And so you did, your body arching off the desk as the orgasm crashed over you like a wave. The sound of your muffled cries filled the room, your nails digging into the desk as you held on for dear life.

Silco's eyes remained on yours, the intensity in his gaze never wavering as he watched you come apart in his arms. He didn't stop, his mouth and fingers working in harmony to draw out every last ounce of pleasure, his praise a gentle breeze that soothed your ragged soul.

"So beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his tongue lapping up the last of your release. He kissed a path back up to your mouth, his kisses gentle and reverent, a silent apology for the weeks of pain he had caused. His hands slid up to cradle your face, the warmth of his palms a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. "You're mine," he whispered, the words a vow that seemed to echo in the air.

You nodded, the fight draining out of you as his lips moved to kiss away the tears that had begun to fall. "I know," you murmured, your voice still shaky with aftershocks of pleasure. "But you have to be mine too." The words were a soft demand, a reminder that this was a two-way street.

Silco nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I am," he said, his voice a low rumble. "And I will be." His hands moved to unbuckle his pants, his cock springing free, hard and demanding. "I need you," he said, the words a desperate plea. "All of you."

He stepped closer, his cock brushing against your thigh as he positioned himself at your entrance. "Look at me," he demanded, his voice a velvet whip that had you meeting his gaze. "I want to see you when I fuck you." His eyes searched yours, looking for the consent that you willingly gave.

With a slow, deliberate move, he pushed into you, the feel of him stretching you deliciously. "

You felt your eyes widen, the pleasure a stark contrast to the ache of his earlier touch. "Look at me," he murmured again, his voice a gentle command. "Let me see you." He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep, his eyes never leaving yours.

Silco's hips rolled into yours, each stroke a declaration of his dominance, his need for you. His eyes searched yours, the intensity in his gaze making you feel seen in a way you hadn't in weeks. His hands moved to grip your shoulders, the pressure grounding you as the world swirled around you.

He leaned in, his teeth grazing your neck, the gentle bite a promise of more to come. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a soft purr. You nodded, the words lost in a moan that you couldn't hold back. His hand slid down to your clit, his thumb rubbing in gentle circles that had your hips rising to meet his. "Good," he murmured, his voice a warm breath against your skin. "So good for me, love." His praises were a balm to your soul, the words wrapping around you like a warm embrace.

Silco's hips rolled in a slow, steady rhythm, his cock stretching you open, filling you completely. His eyes never left yours, the dark pools of desire a stark contrast to the tender way he touched you.

"You're mine," he whispered, his voice a dark promise that sent a thrill of pleasure through you. His thumb circled your clit, his movements deliberate and precise, each touch a silent declaration of his dominance. "And I'm going to show you just how much."

You felt your eyes flutter shut, the pleasure too intense to bear. "No. Look at me," he said, his voice a gentle command that had your eyes snapping open. His gaze was a brand, a promise that he would never let you go again. "I want to see you come for me," he murmured, his voice a warm caress. "Let go, baby."

The praises fell from his lips like sweet nothings, each word a caress that had you writhing beneath him. "You're so tight," he said, his voice thick with need. "So wet." His hips picked up the pace, the slap of skin against skin the only sound in the quiet room. "You're perfect."

He leaned down to kiss you, his tongue claiming your mouth as his cock claimed your body. His hands roamed your curves, his fingers leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. "So beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. "So fucking beautiful."

You felt yourself rising to meet him, your body responding to his every command. Your hips moved in a silent dance, the slickness of your arousal a testament to his skill. "Yes," he growled, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it."

Your moans grew louder, the sound echoing in the room like a symphony of need. "You like that, don't you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "You like when I fill you up?"

You nodded, unable to form words as the pleasure built within you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until you felt like you might shatter. "Tell me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Tell me how good it feels."

"So good," you gasped, your voice a desperate whisper. "So... fucking... good." The words were a chant, a mantra that matched the beat of his hips. His grip on your shoulders tightened, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. "Come for me," he whispered, his voice a dark seduction that had you spiraling out of control.

And then you were there, the orgasm ripping through you like a storm. Your nails dug into his back as you screamed his name, your body arching off the desk as the waves of pleasure consumed you. Silco's eyes never left yours, his gaze a lifeline as you fell apart in his arms.

He watched you come down, his hips still moving, the rhythm never faltering. "You're mine," he murmured, his voice a soft growl. "Mine to love, mine to fuck, mine to cherish." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that was burning in his chest.

Silco's grip tightened, his thrusts growing more demanding, his need for release an unspoken command. "Look at me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with passion. "Look at me while I come. Look at me sweetness." Your eyes snapped open, the intensity in his gaze like a brand on your soul. His movements grew wilder, his cock slamming into you with an urgency that had you gripping the desk for purchase.

His hips snapped against yours, the sound of flesh meeting flesh a symphony of desire. "You feel so good," he groaned, his eyes never leaving yours. His voice was a dark whisper that sent shivers down your spine, a reminder of the power he held over your body. You felt the tension in his muscles, the way his jaw clenched as he held back, trying to make it last.

But the need was too strong, the hunger too great. Silco lost control, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breath coming in harsh pants. "Fuck," he growled, his eyes going dark. "You're going to make me come." And with that, he let go, his cock pumping into you with a ferocity that had you gasping for breath.

You felt his climax, the hot spurts of his release filling you up. His eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth open in a silent roar as he came, his body shuddering with the force of it. For a moment, he remained still, his cock buried deep within you, his breathing heavy and erratic.

And then, just as suddenly as it had started, the storm passed, leaving you both panting and trembling in the aftermath. Silco's eyes snapped open, the pupils dilated and wild. His grip on your hips was bruising, his breaths hot and ragged against your neck. You could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a rhythm that matched the pulse of your own need.

He pulled out of you, the sensation of emptiness making you whine in protest. But he wasn't done yet. With a growl that was more animal than man, he flipped you over, your palms flat on the desk. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you to meet his renewed erection. "Again," he demanded, his voice a desperate plea. "I need to feel you come on my cock again, please."

Without a word, you pushed back, feeling him slide into you with a slick ease that had you gasping. His hips slammed into you, each thrust a punctuation to the silent conversation of your bodies. The desk creaked beneath your combined weight, the wood groaning in protest as you moved together in a dance as old as time.

Silco's hands were everywhere, gripping and caressing, his fingers digging into your flesh as he chased his own release. You could feel the tension building in his body, the muscles in his arms and back rippling with every thrust. His breath was hot and ragged in your ear, his hips slamming into you with a ferocity that sent shockwaves through your core. The desk beneath you trembled with the force of his passion, the wood protesting with each punishing movement.

You moaned, your body moving in time with his, the slap of skin against skin echoing through the room. The sound was primal, a declaration of his dominance that had your inner walls clenching around him. "Sil," you whispered, your voice a plea for more. He responded with a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you deeper.

You felt his cock swell within you, the pressure building until it was almost too much to bear. His movements grew erratic, his need for release palpable. His eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth gritted as he fought for control. But the dam was breaking, the intensity of your combined passion too great to hold back.

With a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, Silco lost control. His hips slammed into you, his cock plunging into your depths with a force that had you screaming. Each thrust was a declaration of his need, his desperation to claim you, to mark you as his. His eyes were wild, the pupils blown with lust as he watched your body take him in, your walls clenching around his length in a vice-like grip that had him groaning with pleasure.

The desk beneath you creaked and groaned with each powerful thrust, the wood bending and flexing beneath the onslaught of your passion. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving bruises that would serve as a reminder of this moment for days to come. His breath was ragged, his teeth gritted as he fought against the tide of his own desire. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, needy sounds of your union echoing off the walls.

"You're mine," Silco grunted, his voice a dark promise that sent shivers down your spine. "All fucking mine." His eyes never left you, watching for every flicker of pleasure, every twitch of your body as he drove into you. "You're going to come for me," he growled, his hips moving in a punishing rhythm that had you panting for more. "You're going to scream for when you come."

He reached around, his hand finding your clit, his thumb rubbing in tight, fast circles that had you gasping for air. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice a dark command that resonated through your entire being. "Now." Your body obeyed, the orgasm ripping through you like lightning, making your vision white out as you felt yourself squirt slightly, soaking the desk beneath you.

Silco's eyes were glued to the sight, the hunger in them unmistakable. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a mix of amazement and possessiveness. "You're so beautiful when you come." His praise was intoxicating, the words wrapping around your thoughts and clouding your mind.

With each stroke of his thumb, your body trembled, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful. "Sil," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Sil, I can't." But you could, and you did, your body betraying you as it responded to his touch, his voice. His grip on your hips tightened, his cock slamming into you without mercy as he chased his own release.

"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice a gentle reminder of your place in his world. "Mine to fuck, mine to cherish." The words were like a drug, seeping into your veins and filling you with warmth. You felt yourself tighten around him, your muscles spasming as another orgasm began to build. "Yes," he hissed, his eyes never leaving yours. "That's it. Take it all."

The room was a blur, the only thing in focus the feel of Silco's cock inside you, his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, his tone a promise. "I'm going to make you come so hard you won't be able to walk." His thumb pressed harder, his movements faster, the pressure building until you thought you might burst.

With a final, desperate moan, you did, your body spasming around him as you squirted once more. The feeling was indescribable, the sensation of your release coating the desk beneath you, a testament to his power over your body. His grip tightened, his hips moving faster as he claimed your body, his own orgasm close at hand.

You felt him swell, his cock pulsing inside you as he came, his seed filling you to the brim. His roar of pleasure was a sound that seemed to shake the very foundations of the room, a declaration of his triumph. You collapsed against the desk, your body trembling, your heart racing as the aftershocks of your climax washed over you.

He didn't pull out immediately, instead staying inside you, his cock still twitching as he caught his breath. His hand moved from your clit to your waist, holding you in place as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a gentle caress that had you trembling. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Soaking wet for me, your cunt clenching around me."

Slowly, oh so slowly, Silco withdrew, the emptiness making you whimper. You felt the warmth of his release spill out of you, painting the desk with your combined pleasure.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but still holding a hint of the dominant beast that had just claimed you. His eyes searched yours for any sign of distress, the softness of his gaze a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before.

Your legs wobbled as he helped you to the couch, his strong arms supporting your weight as you sank into the leather. You nodded, unable to form words as the aftershocks of pleasure continued to pulse through your body. He sat beside you, his hand caressing your cheek as he studied you with an intensity that made your heart race.

Leaning in, Silco captured your mouth in a kiss that was as soft as it was demanding, a declaration of his ownership that had you melting into him. His tongue swept into your mouth, claiming you with a gentle dominance that had you craving more. His other hand slid down your body, tracing the path of your curves with a possessive fondness that had you shivering.

He pulled back, a smug smile playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. You were a mess, your clothes in disarray, your makeup smeared, and your hair a wild mess around your flushed face. But to Silco, you were the most beautiful creature in the world.

He leaned back, his eyes traveling down to the mess between your legs. The evidence of his dominance was clear, a slick mess that had your cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and pride.

With a gentle touch, he wiped a stray lock of hair from your forehead, his thumb lingering on your skin. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice a stark contrast to the beast he had been moments ago. "For everything." His eyes searched yours, looking for the same intensity of feeling that he knew was reflected in his own gaze.

You nodded, the fight from earlier forgotten in the wake of the passion that had just swept through you. "I know," you murmured, your voice hoarse from screaming. "And I'm sorry too." The words were a balm to the wounds that had been festering between you. For the first time in weeks, you felt like you were on the same page, like you were a team.

Silco leaned in, his kiss gentle, almost chaste, but no less powerful for it. "Let's go home," he whispered, his voice a promise of warmth and comfort. You nodded, allowing him to help you to your feet. Together, you gathered your clothes, the silence in the room thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

But as you stepped into the rain-soaked streets, you felt something shift. The storm outside matched the one that had just passed between you, but now there was a sense of calm in the aftermath.

Hand in hand, you walked through the city, the neon lights reflecting off the slick pavement. The rain had let up, leaving only a gentle drizzle that seemed to cleanse the air around you. Silco's grip was firm, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, the storm of emotions from earlier dissipating like the rain.

You stepped into the penthouse, the warmth of the building a stark contrast to the cold outside. The silence was a balm to your ears, the only sound the steady beat of your hearts. Silco led you to the bedroom, his eyes never leaving yours. As he helped you into bed, the softness of the sheets was a comfort that seemed to melt the tension from your muscles.

He slid in beside you, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close. His chest was a wall of warmth, his heart a steady rhythm beneath your ear. "We'll figure this out," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble. "Together."

You nodded, feeling the truth of his words in your bones. For the first time in what felt like forever, you were united, a force to be reckoned with. The city outside was a canvas waiting for you to paint your love and anger upon it.

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