#idk where i was going with this just wanted to try something slightly new

[microtyalm13]

[simpjaes]

So Sweet. ― P.JS

The one where Jay, in all of his cherry-flavored thoughts, makes you cherry flavored too. requested here, here, and here 

minors dni 

PAIRING ― park jongseong x afab reader  

WORDCOUNT― 3.8k

CONTENT―   reader is jealous over nothing, NO THIS IS NOT ANGST, mostly just smutty stuff, food play, costume party (jay is wearing cat ears hueheuehue), alcohol is involved but it’s consenting, ya’ll fuck in [redacted]’s room and leave the mess for him to clean up. 

WARNING―  idk, reader is possessive and jealous, kinda crazy. very me tbh. jay kinda just shoves it in even tho it’s painful for her……and keeps going………

NOTE ― happy almost halloween :D this is very short, written with haste, and probably not that good but…….jay, yknow? jay makes it good. 

nsfw tags under cut

nsfw tags― big fat huge cock jay, candy-play, costumes & cat ears, reader sucks his candy like it’s his cock and he nearly combusts over it,  pussy eating, cock stuffing, cream pie

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s gotta be the cat ears, you think, as you stare at your boyfriend from across the room. Everyone is a blur, but goddamn something is off tonight. Because, like, why is every fucking woman in this room staring at him like they wanna rip his clothes off?! 

Or, maybe it’s that faux-freshly-fucked blushy glow across his cheeks, or the blinking out of sync that comes paired with his drunken jokes and words. The atmosphere truly is making the usual, stoic, lame-ass Jay appear as nothing but an endearing cat-man who deserves a mouth on him. 

And you know, the fact that you came here with him, with matching ears and a fucking tail, should scare off all these little bitches, yet there they are? Suddenly just so interested in your man?! 

Jake is the first to notice the way you stare, raising a brow in confusion.

“You guys get in a fight or something?” He asks as his own animal-themed ears flop around when he turns his head to you.

“No–” You narrow your eyes at a woman who keeps glancing at your boyfriend as you say it, paying Jake little to no mind. “Just wondering why everyone has a hard-on for my boyfriend right now.”

Jake nods, pouting his lip out and raising a brow as if to silently say “Ah, makes sense.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better–” Jake starts, glancing around the room. “I literally don’t see anyone trying to get it on with him. I think you’re making problems.”

Pause.

“Please. Look at her!” You slightly raise your voice, pointing to a woman who is absolutely not trying to get on Jay’s dick, in fact, she’s literally eyeing Heeseung like she’s about to pounce. 

It’s really just the fact that she’s standing right next to Jay, and you caught her looking at him a few times, and also they had a “conversation” a few days ago. Nevermind that it was a “See ya after break!” type of conversation, or that she said it to everyone, and not specifically to Jay. It’s just that he responded alongside everyone else.

���You’re being annoying.” Jake finally starts to walk away from you, not actually annoyed but more-so amused at how jealous you’ve become solely because you’ve had a few shots. 

It’s not often you drink, after all. 

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Gonna go kiss on your man–” Jake laughs, now rushing his way through a crowd of drinkers and glancing at you when he whispers in your boyfriend’s ear.

You watch the way Jay falls into a face of concentration trying to hear his friend, and then see his eyes flick to you. 

Oh, well that’s just great. Surely Jake isn’t actually trying to hit on Jay, he’s probably over there snitching like a little asshole. Which sucks because this relationship with Jay is….it’s kinda new, you know? You don’t want to come across as the possessive type, or like– controlling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself panicking when Jay stumbles his way over to you, a newly unwrapped lollipop hanging half from his lips as he sips his drink around the candy, and only spilling it once solely because he keeps his eyes on you rather than his footing. Jake is left behind, now beside that girl that clearly wants Heeseung to bone her into the next dimension, looking uncomfortable and left out. 

Good. She deserves it. 

“So…” Jay says as he stands next to you, leaning back against the wall and snaking one arm behind you to grab at your waist. “Someone’s jealous?”

You fold in on yourself a little bit, feeling that grip he gives to you that forces you against his side. 

“Of course not.” You mumble, sipping from your cup and still staring out into the room of people. “Why would you ever think that?”

“Jake said so.” Jay laughs now, leaning his head over to whisper under your ear. “You saying he’s lying?”

His breath sends a shiver down your spine just as the song changes to that of muffled bass, loud enough to have you wanting to cover your ears.

“Yes–” You start. 

“Huh?” Jay pulls back to look at you. 

“Yes, he’s lying.” You try again.

“What?”

Before you try to answer again, you feel him pull you. Around a corner, up, up, and away from the booming music one floor up. He lands you in someone’s room, fuck if you know who’s.

“Hm?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you look at him now. No one else in the room to muffle that croak in his drunken voice, those blushed cheeks, the fucking ears.

“I said, he’s lying.” You say meekly, unable to tear your eyes from the little split in his lip, reddened by the candy hanging from his mouth. 

His breath smells of cherry and tequila when he leans closer, tilting his head playfully to look into your eyes, as if to check if you’re the one lying. 

“Is that so?” He says, pulling the lollipop from his lips and sucking the taste down his throat, allowing that scent to waft through your nose yet again. “So you don’t mind knowing Jake’s ex tried to get my number?” 

Your eyes widen before they narrow. You cross your arms and look away from him.

“Of course not.” You lie. 

“And you wouldn’t care that I gave it to her?” He says now, hovering his lips near yours, eyes hooded as he plays with his words. 

That makes your blood boil though, and no longer can you sit here and pretend like you wouldn’t bring out the claws and start pulling hair if it comes to it. After all, that bitch was a homewrecker! Totally broke Jake’s heart and has the audacity to come to parties when she knows he will be here? And she asked for Jay’s number?!

And he gave it to her?! Jay chuckles when he pulls back, popping the candy back into his mouth as he studies the shift in your nonchalant vibe. He stays silent though, amused, waiting for you to argue until he notices the way your eyes fall. 

No longer annoyed, but hurt.

In all fairness, that silence he gave you after that had you thinking…he really gave her his number?

“Baby–” Jay soothes now, pushing the lollipop to his cheek with his tongue so he can speak as clearly as he can despite the slur in his speech from the drinks. “I’m joking.”

The relief washes over your drunken mind, feeling better but now back to being irritated. What’s with him right now? You don’t exactly want to be jealous, but the fact that he’s making damn sure that you were is kinda…like, is he into that? Does he want you to be possessive?

You’d be lying though, if you said he didn’t look hot as hell the other day pulling you closer to his side because a store clerk looked at you for a second too long. You might’ve even swooned a bit. 

“You’re a dick.” You finally respond, shoving him back playfully, unable to hide the relieved smile on your lips. “Looking hot-and-bothered all night, leaving me in a random room only for me to see you talking with some girl after finding you again.” 

He lends you his own laugh now, wiggling his eyebrows before popping the candy out of his mouth again. “Oh, her? The girl who Heeseung basically just finger fucked on the kitchen counter?”

You pause for a second, unsure as to why that sounds hot. Maybe just because she’s not after your man? Or maybe you like, wish you’d have seen.

“And you didn’t even take me to see?!” You go to playfully shove him again, but he stops you with his own gentle shove. Straight against the door, getting up real close to your face before whispering.

“So, you were jealous?” That slur in his speech is nowhere to be found before you taste the explosion of cherry. You’re kind of just staring at him, nodding out an admittance as his eyes fall lower, to where he’s tracing the bulbous head of that lollipop against your bottom lip. “Hot.”

“You’re going to drive me insane, you know that?” You finally say after the fourth or fifth time he’s swiped that lollipop against you, adding a translucent sheen to your already alcohol-sweet lips. 

“Mhm.” He nods triumphantly, now pushing the candy past your lips and into your mouth. “Should’ve came over and let me finger fuck you on the counter next, would that have made you feel better?” 

You roll your eyes playfully, ignoring the throb between your legs at his bold words. Jay isn’t typically this feisty, though you’d have totally let him do such a thing regardless of the eyes that could see. You just, like, didn’t really think he’d be willing to do something like that.

“I learn something new about you every day.” You chuckle out, noting the way he stares at your mouth and the way you suck on his lollipop. 

“Got loads of secrets for you, babe–” He smirks, taking initiative now and pressing his palms down on your shoulders, as if to make you lower yourself to the floor. Which, of course you do. You sink down, feeling the wooden door behind you sturdy and strong. As you do, he reaches over, locking the door.

What you think is about to be the best head of his life turns out to be him sinking down with you, slotting himself between your legs on the floor and pinning you there with his hands against the door. His head tilts cutely, the cat ears now looking more realistic than ever.

He doesn’t look like a curious little black cat anymore, he looks like he’s hunting for prey as he looks at you. 

“Look at you,” He says, more serious and without that smirk before he takes the candy back. “So, so cute.”

You’re melting against him after those words, feeling his tongue lick against your lips before you can even return to compliment. It’s sweet, red coated tongues creating a sugary mess, hums and pleasant sounds leave both of you at the flavor, only to deepen the kiss because neither of you can really get enough of it either. 

You reach up in the kiss, petting the ears on his head despite knowing he can’t feel it the way a real feline would, but he reacts all the same. Totally into it, even, nearly roleplaying as he groans. Maybe he’s just amused that you did that, or maybe he’s wondering if you’ll pull at his next or something. 

And in this kiss that seems to never end, he gets touchy. Pushing and pulling you to both give and take control, one hand moving from cupping your face, to gently holding your neck, up until it finds its way down down down, then up your scanty shirt. 

Totally lost in it, both of you are. With you skewing his ears to scratching at the nape of his neck, to him groping, and suddenly– prodding that same lollipop that you’d forgotten about between both of your lips. He’s amused when you lick it, the dulling cherry flavor coming back into the kiss with full force between you as he pulls back, red salvia stains all around his mouth before the smirk is back.

He watches as you take it back into your mouth, his own hand pushing it in and out, watching you chase it when he tries to pull it out entirely, only to shove it back in, deeper. That’s when he groans, pinching your nipple through your shirt particularly hard due to the sheer arousal that rushes to his cock. It lends him a little throb, a dribble of pre-cum messing his pants.

That about does it for him, pulling the candy out of your mouth now despite the way you chase it pitifully. He pops it into his own temporarily so he can go straight for what he not only wants, but needs right now. You watch him, a little dazed with the way his hair matches perfectly with the color of the cat ears, now a little crooked due to your meddling. 

He goes straight for it too, reaching under your skirt and practically tearing your panties off of you before he’s spreading your thighs wide and re-adjusting himself back between your legs. 

You squeak a little in response, proud of the unintentional sound because it’s very in character for the whole, you know, matching cat costume thing. And he only responds with another kiss, the sucker now removed from his mouth as he offers the flavor through his own saliva. 

Drinking it up is easy as you lick into his mouth, feeling the way his fingers toy with your folds, sliding up and down the slippery heat before–

“Jay–” You pull back, confused at the new feeling between your legs as you look at him.

His pupils are wide when he looks at you, mouth still slack from the kiss you were in the middle of, shoulder moving in tune with each push inside of you. He doesn’t respond, lost entirely in the moment and so fucking horny over what he’s doing to you right now. 

He kisses against you again, moving his hand faster, deeper, when his lips reach your neck. 

“Cherry girl.” He mumbles mindlessly, kissing down your neck and to the exposed skin on your chest that your shirt offers. “Tastes good on you.” He continues to mumble, working his way down as he kisses over your clothes up until he dips under your skirt. “In you.”

So, yeah, you’re being fucked with a well-abused lollipop and you’re not ashamed to moan about it because, holy shit.

His mouth is on you harder than it was when he was making out with you previously. Chasing the flavor, moaning for it, gripping your ass and pulling you closer against his tongue. You grip at the hard floor under you, unable to grasp anything at all through the sudden and intense jolts of pleasure.

And he doesn’t stop moaning, that sucker still being pushed in and out of you, only pulled out briefly for him to, presumably, shove it in his mouth before circling his lips around your clit with a hard suck. And he does that over and over again, like a loop of intended pleasure where he’s just fucking drowning in all of his favorite flavors. 

To not be into this is insane, to not grip onto something is even crazier. You reach down, pulling your skirt up just to see the way his eyes are rolled back, totally unable to make eye contact with you as he relishes in the red-sugar flavor of your cunt. The image alone makes you roll your hips up, which leads to him moaning louder for you to do it again, and again, essentially fucking yourself both on your boyfriend’s tongue, and his candy. 

In the heat of the moment, you finally find your grip in his hair, pulling it so tightly between your fingers that you know it’s hurting him, but he seems to like it. Another secret of his, you guess, as you keep doing that, pulling his hair, riding up against the pleasure he’s offering, and then– god the fucking ears. 

So cute on a man doing something so filthy and messy. You can’t hold it, you just–

“Fuck, keep going–” You stutter out in time with your hips, jerking back and forth both towards and away from him. “Right there,”

Jay is beyond pleased knowing he can make you cum this way. It wasn’t exactly in the plan to fuck his girlfriend like this tonight, but he’s glad he did. Especially seeing you chase the pleasure like this. He’s quick to maintain his rhythm, pushing the lollipop in right at the perfect angle, lips and tongue vibrating against your clit in a way that forces your hips forward, unmoving, stiff and you release. 

He can feel it, that sticky sweet slick dripping out of you, pulsing with each rush of pleasure. It takes everything in him not to abandon your clit and drink it all up, but he’s stronger than (barely). He’s good to you, waiting until that grip in his hair finally loosens before–

You’re pulling twice as hard at it now. Feeling the way he gives you no seconds to recover. He’s immediately pushing his face back down, licking everything that’s dripped out of you and letting it slide down his throat before finally pulling the lollipop out of you.

And he continues to lick, and lick, and lick, sucking and still fucking you with his tongue, lollipop gripped in his hand, pressing it against your thigh as if it’s forgotten about.

You try to wiggle away from him, the sensitivity too much from the image of him going feral, to the way he’s licking inside of you, to the forceful push of his nose right against your sensitive clit. And it’s so fucking crazy too, the way you’re still throbbing, the way you feel a second orgasm coming far too soon to the point you know it’ll hurt. 

You grip at his hair again, accidentally unclipping one of his ears as you have to force him to come up for air. More for your sake, in all honesty, but fuuuuck, it’s hard to hold him here with the way he’s looking at you now.

Lost, confused, even a bit…insane.

“I can’t–”

He tries to push back down, tongue falling out of his mouth when you keep that grip in his hair. 

“Jay, It hurts.”

“Fuck, baby,” He starts in an out of breath groan, totally forgetting about the nearly-disintegrated lollipop as it drops to the floor. “Just really, really need it right now.” 

In that action, you see Jay act more desperate than he ever has, grabbing you by the ankles and pulling you further down, forcing your legs open despite the sensitivity. You swear you hear him purr when he looks between your legs, witnessing a wet mess of sweetness, only to see even more the truth of his words now. 

You see the truth of how badly he needs it in the way he takes that sticky hand of his and pushes it down his pants, not even unbuttoning them before aggressively palming against himself, panting out for you to give him more. 

God. You think you might be in love with this guy. Too soon.

Too fucking soon.

What does it matter if you’re sensitive? Fucking look at him. He’s dying for it.

And so, you spread your legs wider, embarrassingly wiggling down to lock your legs around your sweet, black-cat of a boyfriend who can’t stop furiously jerking off. 

“Take it then.” You coo out, wiggling your open cunt right in front of his lap.

He doesn’t take his time either, shoving his too-tight pants down his thighs, shifting onto his knees, and immediately stuffing his cock into that same sugary slick. He holds his breath at first before releasing an insanely broken moan at the grip of your cunt around him.

The moan nearly sounds like he’s in pain, muttering half-words that can’t articulate a damn meaning even if he tried. Totally lost in the tightness, he barely notices you wrapping your legs around his waist, suffering through the way he knows he’s big, and ignoring how usually he always takes it slow so you can adjust. 

Not this time. No, you feel each pulse try to rip your hole just to accommodate the thickness he offers. And he just moans more at the way you wince, practically drooling on yourself as you clench, and squeeze, and hold onto him as if you’ll fall off the face of the earth if you were to let go. 

His mind is clear enough to hold you in return though, only because he knows it’s about to hurt more before it starts feeling better for you. Unfortunately, his mind is also just foggy enough to give you the short relief of his thick cock leaving you, only to slam in again, harder. 

You cry out at it, nails nearly digging straight through his shirt as you instinctively try to hold onto him through the pain. He soothes you through each pleasurable sound. Out-of-breath hums and moans right in your face when he presses his forehead to yours, each painful thrust followed with a compliment and a grunt. 

“So good, baby, so–” 

“You’ve taken it so many times before, fuck, just a bit more–” 

“Just relax. Please, baby, I know it hurts.”

Eventually, your body does relax, accommodating his size and painful plunges into you. Up until the rhythm is natural and the slapping of where your bodies meet sounds like nothing but a pornographic mess of pleasure. 

Both of you now losing it, you let Jay be the one to take it. You let him fuck freely, as hard as he wants, as loud as he wants up until you’ve had at least two more orgasms and you’re barely able to open your eyes, better yet function.

You don’t know where he got this stamina, considering most nights when you’re together it’s a one and done thing. Then again, most nights he doesn’t fuck you with halloween candy, eat it out of you, then fuck it back into you. 

When he finally reaches his climax though. Oh, oh god. You think you might’ve let the word “love” slip from your slack lips upon feeling his cum inside of you, pumping out and filling you up beyond what’s normal for him. 

You wonder if that little slip of words made him last longer, because goddamn did he hold you closer, and fuck did he kiss you like he never has before through the orgasm.

And when it’s all said and done, the two of you are left out of breath, a sticky mess of pink-tinted cum, salty sweat, and nearly bruised lips. You’d say it should be embarrassing to walk out of whoever’s room this is, but you actually find yourself giggling into your boyfriend’s side during the walk of shame. 

Mostly because you left the room together to find an entire circle of people outside of the door, presumably listening in. Which is…yeah, they’re weirdos. Then again, the two of you didn’t really make it into the room before all of this started. You guess you’d probably listen too if someone was getting fucked against a door.

The giggling though, that comes from learning who owns the bedroom you just got candy-fucked in. His wide eyes narrowing upon witnessing who was in there is probably the funniest thing you’d seen all night. 

Poor Sunghoon. You’d have cleaned up the mess if your legs were working properly.

But they’re not, so, good luck to him, you guess.

[d0rothydraws]

After a night out things get heated and Sylus can't control himself, revealing a new side of him.

content: f!reader, monster cock, porn without plot, public sex, multiple orgasms, Inappropriate use of Evol, after care, just a lot of smut idk

w/c: 3.7k

Ao3: Here

a/n: This took so long i'm so sorry works been wearing me out so much I haven't been able to post much. I hope this satisfies all the monster fuckers that wanted this from my one post.

Tonight had been.. A lot. You and Sylus were at a dinner banquet. Apparently a very important man was hosting the event and Sylus was looking for information about something. You didn’t really know or ask. You don’t really ask many questions these days. Sylus had custom fit you one of the most beautiful dresses you had ever seen. It was made of the softest silk, the neckline was low yet tasteful, showing enough to catch some looks but not enough to feel exposed. The skirt had a high slit that went to the top of your hip, exposing your leg once in a while. As you walked, the long skirt looked like it was flowing around you like water. You wore matching blood red heels that looked like they were carved out of ruby. The light catching them in a mesmerizing way. Your hair was done in a way where it framed your face, pulled in an updo that bounced slightly every time you took a step. And on your neck was a crow pendant embedded with a ruby. 

To say it simply, you looked beautiful. Elegant. 

And Sylus couldn’t keep his eyes, or hands, off of you.

As you walked, his hand was draped around your waist, hand on your hip. Or his hand was on your lower back, or when you sat his hand was on your thigh, fingers drawing patterns that sent a chill down your spine. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, meeting yours once in a while. You almost could feel the hot breath that left him when this happened, exhaling every time as if he was trying to control himself. 

You couldn’t lie, it felt good to see him like this. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what you would look like in the dress, it was custom fit, custom designed just for you. He had seen it on you before. And yet when anyone looked over at you, giving you just the smallest bit of attention, you felt his hand tighten, body pulled closer. Your hip flush against his. You could feel heat radiating from his body.

Part of you wondered if he was going to end up dragging you into the bathroom. A couple times you thought he was considering it, especially as his hand moved to the inside of your thigh halfway through the banquet. His rough fingers trailed higher, brushing against your panties. He leaned over whispering in your ear, his voice thick as honey. 

“You look delicious.” His words sent a shiver through your body as your hand tightened on the fork you were holding. You looked around, everyone was talking about something you didn't understand. Nobody knew what was happening under the table. And in a bold decision, you parted your thighs just a little bit more. Moving your hips to press against the fingers that were tracing your folds through your panties. You heard his breath catch, his hand pausing for only a second, Sylus’ lips returned to your ear. 

“Try not to squirm too much, kitten. I’m not sure how much longer I can hold back.” He said as his fingers dipped under the fabric, calloused fingers grazing the sensitive skin. You took a bite of food to hide a moan, your face red as a shaky breath left your lipsticked lips. You wanted nothing more than to ride his hand. To throw all caution to the wind and thrust your hips against his fingers until you were clenching and twitching around him, begging for more. 

And suddenly, his hand was gone. Your disappointment must have been audible because he chuckled, bringing his finger to his lips. Swiftly he liked them as if he was licking off a stray drop of sauce that fell onto his hand. You caught the look in his eye as his right eye started glowing slightly. Glancing down you seen the red and black tendrils of his power snake its way around your leg. It felt warm and you tried to not shiver or make a sound as you felt the weight of it move between your thighs. Your panties pushed to the side and as a reflex you tried to close your legs. The tendrils pushed your legs back open gently, like a pair of hands and as you felt the warmth against your core, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching a hand out, putting it on Sylus’ thigh, nails pressing into the thick meat. 

It felt as if it was Sylus himself between your thighs, just a different version. The feeling was like a warm tongue licking at you, lapping up every bit that you provided as you tried your damndest to not moan, or at least, too loud. You never felt anything like this before. You almost forgot you were in public until you heard his voice in your ear again. 

“Quiet, kitten. You’ll get caught.” His voice was low, strained. A rush of adrenaline flooded your veins as you choked back a whine. The energy pushed inside you, curling exactly where you needed it. Licking your sensitive, throbbing clit. Your hand on his thigh tightened, nails digging in more making him give a low groan deep in his throat. 

“Sylus-” You said, trying to be quiet, but the sound was choked out. Your breathing was heavy, face red and eyes were starting to get glossy. “I can’t. P-please, I-” You let out a choked gasp, louder than you wanted as your orgasm rushed through you. You clenched around the thick mass of energy inside you as you panted, blushing so dark that you probably matched your dress. A few people turned to look, eyebrows raised in curiosity as they saw your out of breath expression. 

“We will be taking our leave now.” Sylus said, the energy around your lower half dissolved as if it never happened. Your legs felt numb as you tried to steady your thoughts, your heart pounding and blood rushing. Your body moved on its own as Sylus stood, as if being willed by him to follow. You had no complaints about this, your anticipation was as high as ever to get him alone. His hand was firm on your lower back giving you much needed support as you walked to the car.

The drive home was quiet but the tension was thick. His body was tense as he pulled into the driveway and before you could even open the door, the red-black tendrils of energy embraced you again. Your body was moved by a force you couldn’t fight even if you wanted to. A thrill ran through your body. He had never used his Evol on you like this before. 

You were placed in the middle of the bedroom, Sylus following you through the door as his eye glowed. His hands in his pockets as he looked at you with a hunger you never saw from him before. You let out a slow breath, feeling the energy dissolve into the air as he towered over you, a hand moving to your chin. 

“Sweetie, you almost made me lose control, looking like that in public. It’s dangerous, you know.” He said, fingers trailing your skin as his other hand trailed down the curve of your waist, admiring the figure hidden under the dress he picked out. 

“I guess you could say I had a good stylist.” You said with a half laugh, he chuckled, a low sound that warmed your core. His hand moved behind your neck, fingers making quick work of the tie that held the light dress on your body. With a flick of his fingers, the fabric fell to the floor around your feet. Your hand moved to his chest, trailing up to wrap around his tie. 

The tension broke as you pulled him down into a rough kiss, one of his hands curled in your hair while the other moved to your hip. He guided you as you felt the bed hit the back of your legs, one of his legs coming to rest on the edge of the bed as you fell back. His kiss was hot, hungry. Teeth bite your lip, tongues pushing against each other as your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer. He took your hand from his tie, his fingers wrapping around yours as he pinned it above your head. 

“Do you trust me?” He breathed in your ear as he pulled back, panting softly. You could feel the hardness of his cock against your thigh, straining his pants. You arched your hips up to apply some pressure, making him groan. You knew there was only one answer to his question.  

“Yes.” 

The grip on your hand tightened as it was pushed harder into the soft mattress, his other hand moved to your face bringing your lips to his as he kissed you. Slow, deep. Different from the kiss you just had. You felt hot breath on your cheek as he breathed out through his nose asif he was holding his breath waiting for your answer. In turn, the kiss took your own breath away as you pulled back, your lips slightly red from how he bit your lip as you pulled back. His fingers traced the outline of your lower lip as his eyes stared down at you, red orbs swirling.

“Darling,” His voice made a low sound as his eyes looked into you. A serious look that brought you back to reality for a moment. He didn’t give you that look often.  “I’m not sure if I'll be able to hold back tonight.” Sylus sounded just as breathless as you felt. “If you need me to stop at any point, tell me. Promise me.” He said, the hand on your cheek gently tracing the skin under his fingers. “I don’t want to hurt you.” Your heart fluttered as you looked up at him. Your cheeks flushed as you took a deep breath, processing his words. 

You two had a safe word. It was well established when you started becoming physical. There was one time you did have to use it, not because of anything horrible but you weren’t in the right mindset for what he had planned that night. So instead of putting yourself through it, knowing that he wouldn’t want you to do that, you said it. He stopped instantly followed by a warm bath, snacks, and your favorite show. 

“I promise.” You breathed, looking into his eyes as he stared down at you. There was something that you couldn’t tell, that you never had seen before. “I trust you, Sylus.” You whispered, bringing your free hand to pull him into a slow kiss that matched the last one. You put your whole soul into that kiss, as if hoping he would understand just how much you cared for him. How without a thought you would put your life in his hands, knowing damn well that he would do the same for you. 

As the kiss continued, the energy began to change. Once soft and gentle was becoming something more. His lips were hot, hungry as he straddled your hips. His clothed cock grinded against your thigh making your body twitch and shiver with need. His hand on your face became rougher, holding your jaw firmly as his kiss devoured you. He pulled away with a soft growl, licking his lips. 

“You’re like a drug to me.” Sylus said as his hands moved to pull at his clothes, buttons unfastening to reveal his chest. Your mouth started to salivate at the sight.  Your hands moved up to help him, guiding your palms over the surface of his skin. Sylus let out a low sound, watching you as you made your way to his belt. He didn’t stop you as you undid the fasten. The sound of metal was loud in the room as it fell from its hold as Sylus pulled the belt and tossed it on the floor. 

His lips were on you again. Hungry, hot. You felt your breath be taken from your lungs as your hands were pinned above your head. His tongue pushing into your mouth, devouring you whole. He pulled away with a low growl, looking down at you, his eyes dark and his lips red from the kiss and the stain of your lipstick. 

“Roll over kitten.” Sylus purred as he let go of your hands and instantly you followed his direction. You felt the slick of your arousal as you moved, making your need even more known to you as you turned. Now with your ass to him, arched as your cheek laid against the pillow. You felt his fingers wrap under the lace of your panties, pulling them down to your knees. You looked over to him, your view obstructed but still managed to match his eyes. 

No words needed to be said, both of you needed the same exact thing and he wasn’t in a mood to tease you, at least not at the moment. His hands worked on his pants, letting them fall to the floor as he stood off of the bed, his boxers following. Your mouth watered, moaning into the pillow at the sight of him. Hard, dripping. His hand wrapped around his cock, pumping slowly as his thumb brushed against the angry red head. You felt your pussy clench as if trying to draw him in. He was beautiful. He didn’t even look human. No human could be this beautiful. 

As he climbed back onto the bed he wasted no time in positioning himself. He kissed your back, one hand on himself to adjust while the other was on your ass, sinking into the soft flesh. He kissed your back again before speaking into your ear, his voice was rough, deep.

“Remember our promise?” He whispered, his voice strained. Reminding you that you would use the safe word if you needed. You felt his tip slide against you, eager for the final confirmation. You nodded into the pillow, shifting your hips as you grinded against him. He groaned, the hand on your ass getting rougher as he held you still. 

He began to push into you slowly. You felt your body stretch to accommodate him, your moan loud as your body felt like electricity was pulsing through your veins at the feeling. Fuck he always felt so good. So thick, so heavy inside you. Your eyes rolled as he bottomed out his hands gently rubbing your back, your ass, the back of your thighs. He waited a moment, his breath strained as he tried to contain himself. But as he started to thrust it was a lost cause. 

You cried out moaning as he pulled out, thrusting back in. Your body shook as you felt him fuck you, his thrusts started to get faster the louder you moaned as if the sound of your cries edged him on, which was very much the case. You tightened around him, gasping as you felt his hand coming to rub against your clit, his rough thumb brushing the sensitive skin. 

“You sound so beautiful darling. Let me hear how you sound as you cum on my cock.” He purred in his ear. His voice sounded.. Different. Deeper somehow, more primal, needy. It drove you wild. You moaned gasping as you moved your body against him, fucking yourself on his cock while he pressed his thumb against you. You felt the sensation take over your body as Sylus hit that spot inside you that made you cry out and see stars. Your orgasm flowed through you as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him, pushing him to the brink as he filled you with his hot cum. 

You caught your breath, your forehead sticky with sweat as you felt your body tremble from the release. Sylus on the other hand, was still inside you. Cock hard, twitching as if he didn't just cum inside you. His hands gripped your hips, his lips moving to your back as he kissed your sweaty skin. You could hear his heart pounding, as fast as ever. 

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetie. That was a warmup.” He said as he started to thrust again, slowly at first. Your body shivered and moaned at the sudden movement, sensitive from your orgasm as he stated to fuck you. You felt his cum inside you, being fucked deeper. You blushed gasping, your head spinning with pleasure. 

As he fucked you, you swore his hands on your hips felt larger. His nails were digging into your skin as if they were talons. Not cutting into you, but more noticeable than before. You gasped, your mouth opening against the pillow, eyes widening as you whimpered. 

“Sylus!” You cried out as you felt your pussy stretch more than before. You felt his cock, which was already big and thick, get even bigger. The girth stretching you out more to the point your legs were shaking. You felt him hit places inside you you didn't even know existed. You felt tears fall from your eyes, sure it hurt a little but god you never felt so good in your life. You felt his tongue lick up your spine, long, thick. His mouth moved to your ear, sharp teeth nipping the skin. You could hear your heart pound. What was he? How did he become… like this? 

“Wow kitten, you took me so well.” Sylus purred. He wasn’t even moving yet and you were a whimpering crying mess. “I bet you love being stretched out on my cock like this, don’t you? I’m not even moving and it feels like you’re about to cum again.” He teased as you felt a rough, larger than normal thumb brush against your clit. “Careful, if you do, you might boost my ego. I could get addicted to this.”

Your head spun as you whimpered and moaned. You couldn’t see him. Even if you tried to turn, he was pressed against your back. But he wasn’t wrong. You were close. So agonizingly close that when he touched his thumb to that damn spot between your legs it was instant. You cried out, clenching around him and he hissed at the feeling. His cock twitched inside you as he felt you cum on his cock from nothing more than just being inside you. Filling you up completely. Stretching you to your limit to the point you weren’t sure if you’d be able to walk later. 

“Good girl. You’ve been such a good girl for me, haven’t you?” Sylus purred into your ear as he started to move. Your eyes widened as you cried out, hands clawing at the bedsheets as you felt how massive he truly had become now that he started moving. Your legs shook as you struggled to keep yourself propped up on your knees. His hands came to grab your hips as you whimpered and moaned mindlessly into the pillow. His hands felt so big, so strong. He had always been strong but this was different, otherworldly. He held you exactly how and where he wanted you as he began to fuck into you. Your body bounced and shook as if you were a ragdoll. 

“That’s it, sweetie, just like that. You’re a perfect little slut for me, aren’t you. Taking anything I give you, no matter how big. You’ll stretch your tight little pussy for me, won’t you?” Sylus growled in your ear and you gasped, eyes rolling back at his words. You couldn’t control the sounds coming from your lips, or the drool that spilled out onto the silk pillowcase. You couldn’t stop the loud needy whimper at the things he said to you. His nails pressed into your soft flesh as he continued to ravish you. 

His thrusts started to get unsteady as he panted, one hand groping your ass as the other curled into your hair, turning your face for him to kiss you. His long tongue forced its way into your mouth, his teeth were sharper but it felt more like fangs now that you could feel him better. You opened your eyes for a second, catching a glimpse to see that he looked normal. As he pulled away and opened his eyes though, you noticed how both eyes were glowing red. It looked like orbs of the red mist of his Evol flowing inside his eyes. It was beautiful. If you weren’t getting your brains fucked out you would have more time to appreciate it. 

The hand returned between your thighs, drawing circles against your sensitive nub. As he felt you twitch and whimper, his hand continued until he pulled another orgasm out of you. Your scream was muffled by the pillow but the sound made him take in a sharp breath. Even when he was like this, the sounds you made affected him more than you could ever know. You felt as his cock twitched, his thrusted uneven before he came inside you. The feeling was different than before. It was thicker and it felt like there was more than usual. You gasped, moaning as you felt him thrust a few more times, the thick globs of cum running down your thighs. 

Slowly, you felt him begin to pull out. Your body was too weak and tired to turn around and look at him but that was the last thing on your mind right now. You didn’t care what form he took. He was still yours. And you were still his. You felt him shift around you, his arms pulling you into his chest as he kissed your head. The smell of him flooded your senses as a sense of calm you never felt before came over you. 

His hands were so gentle as he carefully checked for marks and scratches. You felt a warm cloth on your thighs. A cold bottle of water pressed to your lips. You opened your mouth and the bottle tipped so gently. His hands were still on you, gently touching and caressing you. As you opened your eyes gently you saw the oh so familiar black and red mist surrounding you. Cleaning you, giving you water. You felt a kiss on the top of your head as Sylus pulled you closer. 

“Relax, kitten. You’ll need to recover. I’ll take care of everything.”

~•~•~•~

some people on my post asked to be tagged or really seemed to want this so here u guys go i hope you dont mind the tag

@lunacielooo @in-too-deepspace @sefynarose

[luvrrszn]

behind closed doors

BROTHER'S BSF!THEO NOTT x FEM READER (18+)

summary you're his best friend's little sister—off-limits, right?

warnings smut, theo's mean, fluff, angst i guess, idk

a/n guysssssssssss new week new obsession......soz send help

masterlist

being your older brother's best friend, theo was at your house all the time.

that meant he'd see you almost every day. the most gorgeous girl he'd ever seen, floating around. so close yet so far, always out of reach.

he knew he'd never be able to have you, no, your brother would never allow that. so he did the only other thing he could think of—be mean to you.

so he tormented you every day. called you names, even waited on your bed for you to come home so he could insult you about something new. you suspected it was just his way of getting to see you every day.

he acts like you're the biggest pain in the ass, just his best friend's annoying little sister. but the second nobody's looking? his hands are on you.

—

sleeping with him is casual, no strings attached. theo sneaks out of your brother's room at night after he's fast asleep, making sure that he never ever finds out what's going on.

when your brother is finally out of town for the weekend, theo still comes over. the two of you are watching a movie on the tv in your room, lying on your bed. his arm is wrapped around your shoulder, your head leaning against his chest. his other hand traces up and down your inner thigh under the blanket.

it's one of those rare moments in the in-between.

in-between fucking and being at each others' throats.

theo's hand slips lower, toying with the waistband of your pink lace panties. he traces over your wet cunt, chuckling under his breath, "amore mio, you're dripping, just for me, huh?"

"shut u—" you're immediately silenced when theo plunges two long fingers into your pussy.

a smug smile spreads across his face, “you’re squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna break my fingers aren’t ya? if your brother knew how much you think about me, he’d probably hex you himself.”

“t-theo, stop talking about my brother and start moving your damn fingers.” you pants, writhing against the palm of his hand, aching for some friction against your clit.

“as you wish, amore mio.”

—

one night, you’re sneaking back in after a party. your hair is disheveled, makeup smudged, slightly tipsy and boots in your hand as you try to close the front door as quietly as possible.

theo is the last person you expect to see. you curse under your breath. why is he always in your damn house?

the open kitchen layout gives him the perfect view of you sneaking back in at 3am. he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, grey sweatpants hanging low, black tshirt hugging his biceps. he drinks from a glass of water, a dark look on his face.

you roll your eyes as you put your boots down on the floor, preparing yourself for what’s to come.

“a bit late, isn’t it, piccola?”

you roll your eyes and brush past him, opening the fridge to grab some orange juice. gulping down the juice, you reply, "it's really none of your business, nott."

wrong answer.

before you can react, he's in front of you, blocking your path. he's so much taller, broader than you. the amused glint in his eye is gone.

"see, that's where you're wrong," he murmurs, tilting your chin up with two fingers so you meet his gaze, "it is absolutely my business, because we wouldn't want you messing around with young, dumb, horny boys would we?"

his forearms rest on either side of your head, pinning you against the refrigerator.

"oh yeah? and what are you?" you scoff.

"oh, bella, you already know the answer to that."

and you do. he's stronger, older, perhaps even more mature (when it comes to anything other than you) than whatever company you're keeping.

"i swear, you'd better not tell my brother about this." you groan, ducking under his arms as you beeline for the sink.

"there's no such thing as a free lunch, piccola."

and that's how you end up on your knees in your bedroom, short skirt hiked up as you gag around his fucking massive cock. his hands are tangled in your hair, mercilessly forcing you to take in every inch of him. tears stream down your face, spit pooling at the corner of your mouth. you look like a mess, but at that moment as theo looks down at you through half-lidded eyes, he swears he's never seen a prettier girl than you.

you look up at theo and take in the sight before you. his head is thrown back, hair messy. his jaw is clenched, and he smirks at you. you run your hands over his chest and toned abs, clawing at his biceps.

he's perfect.

—

oh, and when he catches you at a party?

it's over.

he drags you out by your wrists, forcing you into his blacked-out mercedes. he's driving well over the speed limit, desperate to get off the road before he loses his shit.

he'd seen you dancing with some guy you knew from down the street, dress too short, too tight, too low-cut.

he has one hand on the steering wheel, another running through his hair as his jaw clenches.

"didn't take you for the easy type, but i guess i shouldn't be surprised. you're not special, you know. boys will say anything to get them what they want."

his words hit like a slap. your stomach twists, and for a second, all you can do is stare at him, lips parted and heart pounding.

you want to ask what the hell he's talking about, but you already know.

he saw you dancing with that guy. saw the way his hands slid down your waist, how he leaned in close and whispered things in your ear. how you let out that sweet laugh, one that always made theo want to say "fuck it" and just kiss you in front of everyone. he saw the way you let it happen.

and he hated it.

and now he's punishing you for it.

when you remain silent, he continues, "you looked fucking ridiculous in there, you know that?"

and you feel so silly. to think that that evening, you'd picked out your favourite dress, made sure your makeup looked good, just in hopes that theo would notice you at that party.

"you're being cruel, theo. stop it." you murmur, turning to stare out of the window. you don't even notice that you've started crying.

when you finally notice, you wipe it away quickly. you hope that theo didn't notice, but of course he did. at that moment, he pulls into the driveway of your house, turning off the engine.

theodore nott has seen a lot of things—but he has never seen you cry like this. and definitely not because of him.

and it makes something in his chest clench.

"oh, for fuck’s sake—" his voice drops, no longer sharp but still frustrated. he drags a hand through his hair, exhaling harshly, like he’s angry at himself now, too.

for a moment, he doesn’t say anything. he just stares at you, at the way you’re biting your lip, blinking rapidly, trying so hard to hold it in.

then? he moves.

his hand reaches for your thigh, fingers curling around it, grounding. not forceful, but firm.

"hey." his voice is softer now, rough but not cruel.

"don't do that. don't fucking cry over me."

you try to shift away, but theo's grip tightens. not rough—just enough to make you stay.

"i didn't mean—fuck." he sighs again, shaking his head.

his thumb brushes against your knee, almost like a reflex, and for the first time ever, he looks uncertain.

"look at me."

you don't. you can't.

so he makes you.

his fingers curl beneath your chin, tilting your face towards him.

he isn't angry anymore. not at you. not really. his jaw is still clenched, his brows furrowed, but now? he looks almost desperate. like he wants to fix everything he's done, but he doesn't know how.

"i didn't mean it like that, bella."

you sniff, voice shaking slightly, "then how did you mean it?"

and that's when he just sighs. a weak, defeated sigh escapes the big bully of a man.

"i just—fuck, i don’t want to see you with other guys, alright?"

"why? we're not anything. you've made it clear, multiple times."

silence follows. his grip tightens.

then, he finally speaks. rough, low, honest.

"because i want you to be mine."

for a moment, you just stare at him.

his confession hangs in the air between the two of you. you're still hurt, still pissed. but something inside you shifts.

"say it again." your voice is quieter now, still laced with frustration but weaker.

theo's jaw clenches. he’s not used to being this vulnerable. but he doesn’t look away.

"I want you to be mine."

and then he moves. his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. he hesitates for just a second, like he’s giving you a chance to stop him.

but you don't.

so he kisses you.

it's not soft. not at first. it’s heated, desperate, full of all the tension that had been boiling between you. his grip is firm, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but you don’t—you kiss him back just as fiercely, hands tugging at his shirt, anchoring yourself to him.

it’s messy and overwhelming and everything you’ve both been pretending not to want.

when he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless.

"we’re so fucked," you whisper.

theo smirks, brushing his thumb across your swollen lips. “yeah. but you like it.”

and the worst part?

you do.

[plethorawrites]

I love your fics sm 🩷🩷 Could I request a f2l au with Clark, where him and reader are super touchy n comfortable with eachother that everyone thinks theyre dating even though they say they aren’t. Then to stop the rumours, reader goes on a date w someone else and Clark gets mad jealous? Could also be nsfw if you want 🙏

Yes, yes, yes, I absolutely can! (Idk if this will live up to your expectations because it's like 2 am, but I hope it's okay!)

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Clark Kent grew up in the Midwest, obviously. In doing so, he was raised to be hospitable, polite, and yeah, he's a little touchy. It was how his parents were with him, always hugging him and swinging him around and how he was with you, always ruffling your hair and letting you lean on him when you were tired or bored.

You were his best friend, like you had always been since childhood. He remembered all the times you fell asleep on him during movies and made him carry you when the shoes he told you not to buy started to hurt your feet. You recalled the times you'd trim his hair for him or smack him in the back of the head for doing something stupid.

And of course, there were the times where you lost your aunt and he consoled you, holding you tightly and bringing you comfort only he ever seemed to manage. You brought him comfort too, though, when his powers grew and he panicked. You were the only one who could calm him down, who he trusted to come near him when he felt like he couldn't control himself. That stupid super hearing made everything ache, but your voice always brought him back.

Because you were his best friend. Even if half the school thought you two were dating. He never quite knew why. Guys and girls could be friends, couldn't they? Not everything was romantic.

Except...then he saw you, talking to one of the football players, the ones you always mock and loath.

"Uh, no," you told him, rummaging through your locker. "I don't have a date for prom yet. Probably just gonna go with Clark."

His super hearing picked up the conversation from down the hallway and he was relieved to hear you turn the guy down, until he kept pressing you.

"I thought you've been trying to convince everyone you two are just friends?" He teased.

"We are," you reminded him, finally pulling your books from your locker.

"Well then why not go with me?" He suggested, taking you books, holding them so you didn't have to. "I mean if he was smart he would have already been putting a corsage on your wrist. But since the guy's clearly an idiot...maybe I could have the honor?"

You didn't like hearing anyone call Clark that, of course, but you knew he made a valid point. "I don't know," you muttered, leaning against your locker as it shut. "We go to most of these together and it's sort of tradition for us—"

You were cut off as he brushed a piece of hair out of your face and Clark's jaw clenched from all the way down the hall, the subtle gesture sending a rush of frustration through him. Who the hell did this guy think he was to have the nerve to touch you like that?

"Maybe it's time for a new tradition," he suggested, tucking the piece behind your ear and letting the back of his knuckle gently graze your jaw. "One where I get to compliment you and you hopefully give me a smile for it?" You huffed, your teeth barring slightly. "Yeah, like one of those..." He mumbled. "It's pretty."

Clark's fingers dug into the metal of his locker door, bending it without even realizing it. When he thought it couldn't get any worse, you nodded.

"Yeah, alright," you agreed. "I'll go with you. But I expect a corsage now that you've brought it up."

He grinned. "In whatever color you want, baby," he promised, tilting his head towards the hallway. "Can I walk you to class?"

Baby. Baby? Was he joking? There was no way you were actually buying into his bullshit, were you?

"I already said yes, you can stop flirting."

"Where's the fun in that?" He teased. "Besides, I already have your books."

That was true, you supposed. With a slight shrug you took his arm, walking down the hallway to him towards your next class.

Clark didn't know if it was on purpose or if you were just messing with him, trying to get back at him for something he didn't even know he did, but either way you didn't even look at him when you walked by.

That's when the hinges broke off his locker.

Everyone, aside from you and your date, who had already walked off, abruptly stopped what they were doing to stare. He cleared his throat, looking down and walking away quickly.

[sunsburns]

honestly i feel like joaquin gives best friends to lovers vibes. and the moment you realize he likes you (meanwhile you've liked him for years) is gonna be in the middle of one of those heated arguments you have with each other bc he's jealous of the new guy you're seeing but one of you is stubborn and doesn't wanna admit it. idk if this counts as a request but if you like the idea i'd love to see you write something abt it!!

yes yes! i feel like it would be even better if the two of you had been working together for soo long too. like you’re in the middle of a stakeout or a mission and he’s suddenly bringing it up for the first time, trying to be all suave and subtle and you’re like ????

the stakeout had been dragging for hours.

the two of you were stationed in an unmarked van on a dimly lit street, watching the back entrance of an old warehouse where your target was supposed to show. you and joaquín torres had done plenty of missions like this before—long hours, bad takeout, and enough banter to keep you both from losing it.

except this time, he wasn’t talking.

not really, anyway. he was pretending to be busy, fiddling with the comms setup even if it had already been working fine since the start of the op.

the van was cramped, parked just far enough from the target building to stay out of sight. the only light inside comes from the dim glow of yours tablet and the occasional flicker of streetlights through the tinted windows.

and then, out of nowhere—

“you never did tell me how your date went last week.”

you barely heard him over the quiet hum of the surveillance feed. your attention is fixed on the warehouse across the street, waiting for movement, but his words pull you out of it.

you glance over, catching him looking away the second you do. subtlety had never been his strong suit.

“i didn’t think you’d want to know,” you said, testing the waters.

“of course i do.”

something in his voice made you pause. it wasn’t the usual teasing or lighthearted prodding—it was earnest. which was odd, considering the first time you brought it up there had been no jokes and joaquín had not been this curious. if anything, he’d gone uncharacteristically quiet, then changed the subject entirely.

but you’d brushed it off at the time.

still, you decide to humour him. “it went well.”

silence. then the soft creak of leather as he shifts in his seat.

“so, is there a second date coming?”

the casual tone didn’t fool you.

you smiled, mostly to yourself. “maybe.”

you expect some kind of quip, a halfhearted joke to brush it off. but you didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened, how his fingers flexed against his knee.

for someone who was an expert at recon, joaquín was terrible at hiding his tells. always had been. every thought he had crossed his face before he could stop it, which is why you’ve never had to second-guess him.

but that? that was weird.

“why? do you care?” you ask, turning slightly toward him.

“i don’t,” he said too quickly. “just wondering if i gotta learn this guy’s name or not.”

your smile grew wider. “oh? so you do care.”

he finally looked at you, “that’s not what i—“ he exhaled sharply. “forget it.”

you couldn’t.

you studied him for a moment, the furrow in his brow, the slight clench of his jaw. this was the longest conversation you’ve had outside of mission chatter in a week. and now he suddenly wanted to know about your love life?

“joaquín,” you started, voice slower now. “if there’s something you wanna say—“

“i only care when it affects our work.”

that made you bristle. “oh. am i too distracted for you?”

“that’s not what i said.”

“it’s exactly what you said.” you turned toward him fully now, forgetting about the stakeout for a second. “you didn’t have a problem last week when i was watching your six, but suddenly i go on a date and now i’m not focused enough for you?”

“that’s not—“ he stopped himself, dragging a hand down his face. “tu—you’re impossible.”

“like you’re any better,” you fired back. “you’ve been acting weird ever since i mentioned this guy, and now you’re bringing it up in the middle of a mission like it’s relevant intel? what’s your deal, torres? what’s going on? what are you trying to say?”

he pressed his lips together, clearly debating something. you knew him well enough to see the war happening behind his eyes, the push and pull of something he'd been trying to keep locked down.

“i’m not—i’m not trying to say anything,” he muttered.

your eyes narrowed. “bullshit.”

his lips curled into something sour, “i don’t get you sometimes.” his voice was lower now, “you’ll pick up on the smallest details in the field, but when it comes to this?” he gestured vaguely between the two of you, frustrated, “it’s like you’re choosing not to see it.”

that stopped you cold.

because for a second—for one stupid, fleeting second—you let yourself think about it. really think about it.

like the way joaquín always made sure you had the last protein bar on long missions, even if it meant going without. or the way he always covered your blind spots in a fight, positioning himself between you and danger without hesitation. the way his voice changed when he spoke to you, softening in a way it never did for anyone else.

the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

god.

your stomach twisted. you had spent so long convincing yourself that none of it meant anything. that it was just who he was—loyal, protective, a damn good partner. that was the only way you had managed to push your feelings down, to keep yourself from ruining what you had with him.

because the truth?

you had been in love with joaquín torres for years.

and it had been eating you alive.

the only reason you had gone out with someone else at all was because you had needed to move on. you couldn’t keep wanting something that wasn’t yours. couldn’t keep looking at him like he hung the damn moon when he was always just out of reach.

but now—now—he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to say something. like he wanted you to see it.

like maybe you hadn’t been crazy all along.

“joaquín.”

he just shook his head, frowning like he was mad at himself for even saying anything. “doesn’t matter.” the frustration drained from his voice, leaving behind something hollow. “forget i said anything.”

then he turned away like the conversation was over.

but it wasn’t.

because now, there was no taking it back.

and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to.

before you could respond, sam’s voice crackled over the comms.

“guys," he said, slow and unimpressed. “you do realize your mic is on, right?”

heat flooded your face.

joaquín scrambled to reach for the radio, red in the face. “sorry. must’ve turned it on by accident.”

“glad we’re getting some entertainment while we wait, sam continued, and you could almost see that grin on his face. “but unless you two wanna keep broadcasting your love confession to the team, maybe save it for after the mission?”

[billzbling]

@billzbling ‘s …

𝐏𝟏 ❝ 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 ❞ ™

❝ 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢��𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐲/𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞. 𝐎𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞. 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐫. ❞

|| ⚠︎ series warnings || manipulation ? smut, cursing, flirting, arguing, idk?

|| part 2 here!

I’m currently sitting uncomfortably in a chair across from billie. She’s sitting in a gaming chair for some reason, scooting it back and forth as she sips on her water bottle. She’s looking at me, I’m looking back at her, but she’s not saying anything. The silence is starting to get to me, and I’m just about to ask if she’s okay when she finally speaks up.

“So” she clears her throat and turns to me, finally giving me her undivided attention. “You’re moving in today, I just wanted to talk about some rules and boundaries we’re gonna have, okay?” I nod, gripping my knees nervously. I had no idea what to expect from living with Billie, I’ve seen her on campus, but we’ve never spoken.

“You seem tense, relax pretty, I don’t bite.” She says with a little smirk. I laugh nervously, trying to ease my nerves. “Okay, sorry.” Billie leans back in her chair, stretching her legs out in front of her.

“Well, I’m pretty laid back, so there’s not too many rules. Just keep the place clean, don’t play loud ass music at unreasonable hours, and don’t throw a rager or something with out telling me, y’know?”

“Yeah, no problem. I’m pretty quiet anyway, I don’t throw parties or anything like that.” I reply, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.

“Cool, cool. Also, if you’re ever in need of anything, I’m here for you, okay?” She says. “Anyhow, do you want some help moving in later, I’ll help if you need.” She says innocently. This would be the kindest offer if she weren’t so blatantly checking me out. “No it’s alright, my parents are helping.” Billie nods, seemingly disappointed.

“Okay, cool. Well if you need anything, my room is right there.” She points to the door next to hers. “Don’t be shy, I’m pretty cool, I promise.” I nod, smiling slightly. She seems nice enough, very flirty, though I’m sure she’s just joking. Or maybe being nice and I’m reading to much into it, who knows?

I spend the next few hours getting everything set up in my new room. It’s pretty sparse, just a bed, a desk, a chair, and a bookshelf. But it’s a good size, and the lighting is pretty good. I set up my computer and unpack my books, arranging them neatly on the shelf. I hang up some posters of my favorite bands and set up my desk with all my school supplies. It’s starting to feel a little more like home.

Later on, my stomach starts to growl. I check the time and realize it’s dinner. I don’t know if Billie had any food, so I decide to just grab something from the dining hall. I grab my wallet and head out, hoping I don’t run into anyone on the way. But, of course, as soon as I step out into the hall, I hear the door to Billie’s room open.

“Hey, pretty, where are you off to?” She says, popping her head out of her room. “Oh, just going to grab some dinner. You?” I ask, trying to keep my cool. “I was actually just about to head out too, want some company?” She offers, a hopeful look on her face. “Sure, that would be great!” I reply, maybe a little too eagerly. She grins and we walk down to the dining hall together, making small talk about our classes and what we’re studying.

The dining hall is pretty crowded, but we manage to find a table in the corner. We grab our food and sit down. I get a tray of chicken and rice, while Billie has a salad and some kind of smoothie. She’s dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts, but she still looks amazing. Her hair is up in a messy bun, and she’s got a smudge of eyeliner on her cheek. It’s adorable. We sit across from each other, eating in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before she speaks up again.

“So, do you have any hobbies or anything?” She asks, popping a cherry tomato into her mouth. “Yeah, I like to read and write, I also like movies and stuff of that nature.” I reply. “Cool, cool. I’m into music,” she says, playing with her salad. “What do you play?” I ask. “I play the guitar, and I like to sing, mostly just for myself, though.” She says. “You seeing anyone?” She says, nonchalantly. “No, not anymore.” I reply, my cheeks heating up a bit.

“What about you?” She shakes her head. “Nah, I’m pretty busy with school, don’t have much time for that sort of thing. Plus, I’m kind of picky.” She smiles at me and my heart skips a beat. “But who knows what could happen in the future, right?”

[downbad4sylus]

“This mark is different”

(part 3 to “I killed you”)

synopsis: You and Sylus return to the base from the field of flowers where he shows you his horns.

content: NSFW; 18+ MDNI; smut with some plot; sylus x afab!reader; reader is MC; use of Y/N; soft!sylus; virgin!sylus (i am of the opinion that sylus wouldn’t so much as breathe near another woman who isn’t MC); virgin!reader; kissing; oral (fem receiving); p in v; soft sex; slightly rough sex; no protection (wrap it up kids); multiple orgasms; idk if this counts as monster fucking but sylus has horns and a tail; mostly proofread

word count: ~3.5k

tags: @travelerth; @midiplier; @satansdaughter123; @bookfreakk

a/n: massive thank you once again to everyone who’s read, liked, and reblogged parts 1 and 2, i genuinely can’t express how happy it makes me that so many of you have enjoyed these little stories :’) anywaayyy, in honor of the new banner and all the new spicy content (bless our game developer overlords) here is part 3 where things between you and Sylus get a little spiicccyyyy

Okay, so when Sylus asked if you wanted to go back to the base and see his horns, you might have taken him a little too literally.

What you thought was him innocently taking you to his bedroom—warning the twins on your way that he still didn’t want to be bothered—turned out to be far from that.

Which was how you found yourself currently pinned beneath him on his bed, tongues tangling and lungs screaming for air, no horns in sight. Or tail. Or wings.

You lightly pounded a fist against his chest. “Sylus…I need…to breathe…”

Sylus was loath to part from you, but did so regardless, taking the opportunity to marvel at the sight of you before him. Flushed cheeks, swollen lips, chest heaving. You were beautiful, perfect, and his.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, making sure he had your consent before he continued.

You bit your lip, and he nearly lost control then and there. How many times did he have to tell you to stop doing that?

“How far are we going?” you asked softly.

“As far as you want, sweetie,” Sylus assured. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

“I, um, haven’t really done anything before,” you confessed, turning your face away so you didn’t have to look at him.

Sure, you had a few boyfriends throughout the years but you’d never had more than a heated makeout session, it was usually the reason why those relationships ended. You weren’t a prude or anything, you were just saving yourself for when someone really special came along. Or maybe you’d unknowingly been waiting for Sylus to come along.

Sylus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to his. “Me neither.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “Really?”

He nodded. “I’d never give myself to anyone but you.” He released your chin in favor of dragging a finger down your neck before wrapping his hand around it, careful not to choke you. “I do, however, have a very good memory.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. You wanted him. You needed him. And most importantly, you trusted him.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay what, sweetie? I need you to tell me exactly what you want,” Sylus said, his thumb rubbing soothingly along the length of your neck.

“I want you, Sylus, all of you,” you said. “I want you to make me feel good.”

“Oh, Y/N, I’ll do so much better than that.”

He released your neck, trailing his large hand over your chest and down your stomach until his fingers teased the hem of your shirt.

“May I?” he asked.

You nodded. “But I get to take off yours next.”

Sylus chuckled. “Are you trying to make a deal with me right now?”

You nodded again, smiling. “For every one thing you strip off of me, I get to strip something off of you.”

His ruby-red eyes sparkled. “And those are your terms?”

“Those are my terms.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

You eagerly sat up and held your arms above your head. Sylus huffed, clearly amused by your enthusiasm, and gripped the bottom of your shirt in both his hands. In one smooth motion, he removed it, tossing it aside as his gaze roved hungrily over your now-bare skin.

When you reached for his shirt, intent on running your hands all over his delicious abs, you suddenly found yourself back against the mattress, wrists pinned to the pillows.

You blinked to find Sylus hovering above you sporting a positively wicked smile.

“Sylus! What are you doing?” you exclaimed, fighting to free your wrists.

He cocked his head. “You never said when you got to rid me of my clothes,” he drawled in that infuriatingly smug tone of his. “You need to be more specific when setting your terms, sweetie.”

Your mouth popped open. This was what you got for trying to make a deal with the King of Deals himself.

“Now, let’s get rid of this next,” he mused, trailing his fingertips along the underwire of your bra.

“How are you—“

Black-red mist enveloped your bra, tickling the skin underneath. It took only a moment for Sylus’s Evol to make quick work of it, the undergarment reduced to black and red specks of dust, leaving your upper half fully exposed.

Sylus’s pupils dilated as his hand gently cupped your breast, and you whimpered when his thumb brushed over your nipple.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “And all mine.”

He was barely touching you yet your core had already gone molten and was beginning to throb with need. You needed more of him, his hands, his lips, his tongue, his co—

A jolt of pleasure shot straight to your core, tearing a loud moan from your lips as Sylus closed his own over your neglected nipple. He continued, tongue laving and teeth biting until he switched to your other breast, giving it an equal amount of attention.

You were panting by the time he lifted his head with a quiet smack of his lips.

But Sylus was far from finished.

He kissed his way up to your neck, where he licked and sucked at your sensitive skin. You wanted to touch him, thread your fingers through his hair but he still had your wrists pinned firmly above your head with seemingly no intention of releasing them.

You cried out, your back arching as Sylus sunk his teeth into your neck.

“This mark is different,” he breathed, lapping his tongue over it to soothe the sting. “This time, I want to count how many times I can make you come before it fades.”

“Fuck Sy,” you groaned.

He trailed down again until he reached the waistband of your pants. He looked at you, one brow raised, silently asking for your consent. You nodded, straining against his hold on your wrists, desperate to bury your hands in his hair.

You nearly cried with relief when he finally removed his hand, only to have your wrists bound by his Evol instead.

“Sylus,” you whined.

He chuckled. “Be a good girl and let me have my fun first,” he said. “You’re the one who asked me to make you feel good.”

“Then stop teasing me already!”

“Mmm, very well.”

Sylus yanked off your pants, leaving you in just your underwear, which were soaked through by this point. He made quick work taking them off as well, groaning at the sight of you finally naked before him.

“So, so beautiful,” he murmured reverently as he reached out, brushing his thumb over your clit. Your hips bucked at the contact, and it was all the reaction Sylus needed before descending on you like a man starved.

Spreading your legs wide, Sylus licked your slick entrance, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. Your back bowed off the bed, crying out in pleasure as he focused his efforts on your throbbing clit. He slung an arm across your waist and pushed you back down, keeping you locked in place, unable to escape the pleasure he was so eager to give you.

His unoccupied hand ghosted along your inner thigh, growing closer and closer to where his mouth was, until he reached your entrance and slipped a finger inside.

You moaned. “Please Sy,” you begged him. “Please let me touch you.”

Without parting from your core, Sylus’s Evol dissipated from your wrists, freeing you at last. Your hands immediately went to his head, burying your fingers in his hair.

Release tingled down your spine, the tension poised to snap. When Sylus added a second finger he nearly undid you then and there.

You grip his hair harder, moving your hips as much as his iron grip would allow, riding his face.

“Sylus,” you panted. “Sylus I’m gonna—ah.”

“Go ahead, sweetie,” Sylus said gruffly. “Come for me.”

And you did, the tension exploding as you came all over his mouth and fingers. He continued to lick and suck, his fingers pumping in and out while you rode out your high, stopping only when your body went limp beneath him.

“That’s one,” Sylus said proudly, straightening as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You stared at the slick covering his fingers, transfixed by the way it shined in the light. Sylus noticed.

“Want a taste for yourself?” he asked.

Heat flooded your cheeks but when your eyes met his, you nodded.

“Open,” he commanded. You obeyed and Sylus slid his fingers inside your mouth. When you closed your lips around them he said, “Now suck.”

You couldn’t feel any embarrassment you were so turned on, tasting yourself as you licked and sucked Sylus’s fingers clean.

“Good girl,” Sylus purred as his withdrew his fingers. “Would you like to uphold your end of our deal now?”

You pounced on him, almost knocking you both off the bed. You tore at Sylus’s shirt, bunching it up over his torso before ripping it off his head. Without stopping to admire his physique, you rose on your knees, positioned on either side of his legs, and unbuckled his belt. The bulge in his pants made your mouth water and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your hands around his cock and wring as much pleasure out from him as he did you.

“Lift your hips,” you told Sylus.

He raised them, his chest heaving with anticipation as he watched you. You hurriedly popped the button and pulled the zipper down, then with all your might, grabbed the waistband of his pants and underwear and yanked.

Sylus’s hard cock slapped against his abdomen and you nearly abandoned undressing him at the sight of it. He was long and thick, precum leaking from his slit and onto his stomach. You wanted to touch it, taste it, feel it inside of you.

“Don’t stop now, kitten,” Sylus encouraged, his voice breathless. “You can’t leave my pants like this.”

You blinked, realizing you’d be staring at his cock, hands still gripped tight on his pants, which were only halfway down his thighs. You mumbled an apology and managed to finish stripping him, tossing his clothes aside onto the floor somewhere.

Sylus groaned as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. “Kitten,” he panted. You dragged your hand up his length, gathering the precum at the tip before running it back down. “Hah—ah, that feels so good.”

But Sylus grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

You pouted. “I want to make you feel good too.”

He smirked. “You can do that some other time, right now, I need to be inside you.”

Sylus sat up, putting you at eye level.

Your breath caught. He was so beautiful, with his sharp, chiseled features, but what really took your breath away was the look in his eyes. He looked at you like you held his entire world in your hands. Like you were the only light shining in a life otherwise shrouded in darkness. You loved this man, and it was so heart achingly clear he loved you too.

Sylus cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything before,” you answered him with a smile. “I love you, Sylus.”

He smiled too, a real smile, not anything like his smug ones. “I love you too, Y/N.”

He kissed you, lips pressing softly on yours. It was slow and unhurried, like you had all the time in the world to just enjoy each other. Even when your tongues met, you didn’t rush, Sylus gently pushing you down onto the mattress.

He drew back when his cock teased your entrance. “I’m going to go slow, okay? If it hurts or you need me to stop, just let me know.”

Your hands flew up to his face. “Sylus wait.”

He didn’t move a muscle.

“You said I could see your horns.”

Sylus faltered. “Sweetie, I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

You shook your head. “No, I want to see them, Sy, and your wings and tail. I said I wanted all of you and I meant all of you.”

Sylus’s heart thundered in his chest, unsure whether to give in to your demands. He was sure if he protested further, he’d be able to convince you to drop it for now. In truth, though, he was nervous. Yes you had remembered your past together but you’d never seen him in his dragon form in this life. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you. He’d never recover if you saw him as the monster he truly was, you were the only one who loved him despite that very fact.

“Sylus.”

Hearing his own name tore him from his thoughts, his gaze fixing on your face.

“I love you now just as much as I did then, dragon and all,” you said firmly. “Please, I want you to be able to be yourself with me.”

Sylus hung his head and sighed, resigning to your demands. “Fine, but no wings, they’re too big for the bed.”

“Okay, I can live with that.”

Sylus huffed and brought his lips back to yours. As you kissed, black-red mist swirled at the top of Sylus’s head and at the base of his spine, revealing his scaled, black horns and tail.

He held his breath as he parted from you, bracing himself for your reaction. But when you opened your eyes, they were not filled with fear. They were filled with awe.

You lifted a hand and brushed the bottom of one of Sylus’s horns. He shivered at your touch, his tail swishing back and forth behind him.

“Are they sensitive?” you asked, ghosting your fingers up the length.

“Yes,” Sylus breathed.

You hummed thoughtfully as you angled your head, peering at his tail, then looking back at him. “You really are beautiful, Sy.”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat, moved far more than he could ever express with words that you found him beautiful, even like this.

“May I continue now?” he asked, deflecting with his usual arrogance.

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Please.”

Sylus almost lost his self control at the relief that flooded through him. His cock was throbbing so hard it was painful, and the only way he could soothe it was to be buried deep inside your cunt.

Tail thrashing wildly, Sylus repositioned the head of his cock at your entrance, somehow even more soaked now than before. Coating himself first, he then began pushing past your folds.

You inhaled sharply at the burn as your walls stretched to accommodate his size.

“Relax, my love,” Sylus soothed, one hand trailing down toward your core. He gently circled your clit, encouraging your body to relax.

You whimpered, clenching around the head of his cock, desperate for him to fill you more despite the pain.

Taking his time, Sylus rocked his hips slowly, easing into you inch by inch all while rubbing your clit to keep you loose. By the time he bottomed out, the pain you’d felt had been long replaced by the pure pleasure of being filled with his cock.

Sylus trembled with the restraint it took to not start pounding into you, wanting your first time to be more loving and tender. There was plenty of time to take you hard and rough.

“I’m going to move now, okay?” he warned, breathing heavily.

“Yes, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He groaned and rocked his hips until just his tip was left inside you, before sliding back in. You both moaned as Sylus began thrusting in earnest, his pace slow and steady.

“You feel so good, Y/N,” Sylus panted. “Just like I remember.”

You were unable to respond, too consumed by the way he moved inside you, his cock hitting you in all the right places.

As though it had a mind of its own, Sylus’s tail snaked around one of your legs, keeping it locked to his waist.

Tension building already, your nails dug into Sylus’s back as each thrust brought you closer and closer to the edge. Sylus could fell your walls fluttering around his cock, and while he wanted nothing more than to lose himself right along with you, he was determined to rip as many orgasms out of you as he could.

He picked up the pace slightly and you responded in kind, tightening your grip on him as you cried out.

“Sylus, oh fuck, don’t stop, please please please don’t stop.”

He chuckled. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He captured your lips in an impassioned kiss, sweeping his tongue into your mouth as you moaned. One hand cupped a breast, his fingers teasing your nipple before moving on the other.

His touch, his kiss, his cock, it was all too much.

Your back arched as you came, waves of pleasure washing over your body again and again with seemingly no end. Sylus kept moving through it, pausing when you finally slumped into the bed.

“That’s two, but we’re not finished yet, kitten,” Sylus growled.

You hardly registered his words before he was flipping you onto your stomach, a shocked oof breezing past your parted lips. He dragged your hips up so your ass was in the air, sliding his cock back into your cunt with ease. His tail slid along your ribs, then across your breasts, the hard scales rubbing on your sensitive nipples, and it pulled you flush to Sylus’s chest. On instinct, you reached back and grabbed onto both of his horns. The groan he let out was purely animalistic.

“You better hold on tight,” he whispered in your ear, the only warning you got before his cock started slamming into you.

You moaned at the delicious new angle, your body already working toward another orgasm. Admittedly, you’d been a bit nervous that Sylus was relying solely on memory from another lifetime in order to please you, and truly you would’ve been happy with whatever he’d be able to give you. But this? This was not at all what you expected.

“I won’t last much longer, kitten,” Sylus warned, his thrusts growing sloppy, “and I fully intend on bringing you with me.”

His hand slid down your abdomen, two fingers finding your clit and rubbing in quick, tight circles.

Your cunt clenched hard around his cock as you pulled on his horns, your mouth popping open in a silent cry. Sylus groaned, doubling his efforts both with his cock and his fingers.

“Sylus!” you yelled, body tensing. “Sylus, oh please.”

“Give me one more, Y/N,” he muttered. “Be a good girl and give me one more.”

Your climax slammed into you, your vision going white as the pleasure rocked your body harder than the last two. It drove Sylus straight off the cliff edge, chasing his high right alongside you, filling your cunt to the brim.

When you were both spent, Sylus collapsed on top of you, but you were too fucked out of your mind to care about his weight crushing you.

He didn’t linger on you too long though, rolling over onto his side, taking you with him as his tail was still wound around your breasts. He peppered kisses on your neck and shoulder, making you smile.

You twisted in his hold to face him, placing a chaste kiss of your own right on his lips. “I love you, Sy,” you murmured.

“I love you too, sweetie,” he replied quietly.

“Does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” you asked, the picture of innocence.

Sylus scoffed. “I was under the impression I was much more than just your boyfriend.”

“You are, but I can’t introduce you to people as my soul-bound lover,” you protested. “We need a socially acceptable label, Sy.”

“You want to introduce me to all your little Hunter friends?”

“Yeah, as my small-business-owner-slash-fruit-stall-vendor boyfriend, Skye!”

He gave you an incredulous look, as if he couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now. But, he’d never deny you anything. “Fine, I’ll be your boyfriend as long as you get to be my girlfriend.”

“You have to ask me first.”

He blinked. “What?”

“You have to ask me to be your girlfriend first.”

Sylus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Y/N, my love, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You grinned and smacked your lips against his. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Little did you know that Sylus had much bigger plans in mind than you being just his girlfriend. Fiancé was good, but wife was even better. You know, for the sake of socially acceptable labels, of course.

[dearru]

twelve grapes | o.miya

pairing: ts!miya osamu x gn!reader | sfw | cw: slight manga spoilers, alcohol, atsumu sucks and kita is here too, a lot of yearning and unresolved feelings, no use of yn | genre: hurt/comfort sorta but also idk just read it and you’ll see | wc: 3.3k (3330) | mlist

synopsis -> in attempting to follow an age-old tradition, you begin to confront some repressed feelings you have for your best friend.

TWENTY MINUTES UNTIL MIDNIGHT, and you’re buzzing with anticipation. Tonight was the annual New Year's party, and the air was alive with excitement. Laughter fills the room, and you navigate through the crowd, ignoring the feeling of sweaty partygoers pressing against your body. Normally, you’d hate pushing through a crowded group of people, but tonight, you’re on a mission. You need to find Kita– the reluctant host of this year’s party and your longtime friend. 

When you find him, you call out, bounding over to where he’s resigned to nursing a bottle of water on the couch, looking entirely overwhelmed by the festivities. You giggle at his current state as he lifts his head sluggishly, eyes half-lidded and fighting sleep. If he weren’t the host of this event, you’re sure he’d already be snuggled under his warm bedsheets, sleeping the Holiday away. 

He hums, sitting up to give you his full attention despite his exhaustion. 

“Do you have grapes?” you ask. 

“Grapes?” He tilts his head, “I have some in the kitchen.” And like the good host he is, he rises from the couch. It’s a half-hearted attempt but appreciated nonetheless. 

Shaking your head, you gesture for him to sit back down, “I can get them; it’s okay!” 

Nodding, he looks almost relieved as he points toward the kitchen. “Top shelf of the fridge.” He says, smiling appreciatively. 

Before you can go, you feel a hand grip your shoulder. Turning, you see a familiar mop of blonde hair and a mischievous grin staring back at you. 

Atsumu Miya– who is another one of your long-term friends, unfortunately. 

“Who’s goin’ to the kitchen?”  The setter slurs, cheeks flushed, “Get me another beer, yeah?” His eyes are glazed over, and the scent of what you presume to be the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed wafts off him. The odor is prominent and slightly bitter. You fight the urge to shake your head in knowing disappointment. 

“I think you’ve had enough.” Kita scolds, calm but firm. Atsumu puts a hand up in submission and mutters something under his breath, still holding onto you. 

Chuckling, you untangle yourself from his grasp, glancing toward the kitchen. “Couldn’t get you a beer even if I wanted,” You tease, “I’m gonna stay in the kitchen ‘til midnight.”  

Yawning loudly and plopping down on the sofa next to Kita, Atsumu peers at you curiously. “Midnight? ‘Samu gonna be there too?” He snickers, nudging his former teammate. Kita shoots him a warning glance and then shifts his gaze to you. It’s warm and empathetic. 

You stiffen. The sound of his name has your heart skipping a beat, and Atsumu’s question echoes loud in your ear like the pop of a champagne cork. Everyone’s been drinking tonight, so maybe it’s the liquor and crowd getting to you, but you suddenly feel aware of how your breath catches.

You and Osamu are friends– best friends, even– but recently, you’ve started to notice things about him that maybe best friends shouldn’t notice. Like the way his hair tousles in an annoyingly effortless way or how he rolls his sleeves up just enough for you to get a glimpse of his arms, toned and strong. You try your best to push the thoughts away because you two are friends, and it’s wrong to think of friends like that. 

Try as you might, it’s more difficult said than done. Especially when you two spend every free moment you have together. Even after spending long, laborious nights slaving away at Onigiri Miya, Osamu always stops by your apartment, doggy bag in hand. He tells you it’s just to make sure you’re eating, but you know the casual drop-ins are an excuse to have hour-long chats together in the dead of night. You never mind, but it makes you wonder if he thinks about you in the way you think about him. 

It’s wishful thinking, you tell yourself, He’s got better things to worry about than you. It’s best practice to not have false hope, and you’ve tried your best to not let all the inner turmoil affect the way you act.

When Atsumu mentions his brother, you feel a wave of discomfort that betrays how desperately unbothered you want to seem by him. You want to laugh it off, but the words don’t come out in the effortlessly cool way you imagined in your head. 

“Why would we be together at midnight?” You ask. The words are rushed, and you cringe at how the pitch of your voice raises. The weight of his accusatory gaze makes you feel like a dying animal being stalked by a vulture. He’s onto you, and you can’t do anything about it. 

Letting the silence hang in the air for a moment longer than what’s comfortable, Atsumu sighs, chuckling and leaning further into the cushions, “If yer not with ‘Samu, then what’re ya doin’ in the kitchen?” 

You breathe a sigh of relief at the change of topic. “I’m doing the twelve grapes tradition.” 

“Twelve grapes?” Kita asks.

You smile, confidence returning to you, “Yeah! I read about it online. You eat twelve grapes under a table, and it’s supposed to bring good luck for the New Year.” 

Snorting, Atsumu crosses his arms, “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Biting your inner lip, your eyes narrow. You’re used to his blunt comments, but they still get under your skin sometimes. You try not to let it show. 

“Don’t be rude,” Kita sighs, then looks to you, voice softening, “Just don’t choke when you’re eating them, okay?” 

“I won’t.” You assure him while glaring at Atsumu, who’s still laughing under his breath. 

Making your way to the kitchen, you hear Atsumu call out, mockingly cheery, “Yer gonna look dumb bein’ all alone at Midnight!” 

You pause and then shake your head, continuing to the kitchen. What do you care if you’re alone? The one person you’d want to ring the New Year in with had probably left the party by now to get ready to open his restaurant in the morning, anyway. 

It’s not a big deal. 

TEN MINUTES UNTIL MIDNIGHT, and you feel stupid. 

In spite of Atsumu’s taunts, you’ve slipped away into the kitchen to escape the boisterous crowd that gathered around the living room. They’re all anxiously awaiting for 12:00 AM to strike together, and you’re by yourself. Bass from the loud music seeps through the thin walls and pulses through your head, amplifying your growing discomfort. You try to focus on how the quiet hum of the stove subtly masks the muffled sounds of laughter and the premature clinking of glasses from the other room. It would be nice, you think, to take a break from the party— if it weren’t for how alone you felt. 

This is silly.

Opening the fridge, you sigh as you feel the cool air hit your face, the chill sobering and harsh. You’re grateful for the obsessively organized way Kita stores his groceries; it makes it easy to find the grapes. They’re exactly where he said they’d be, tucked away on the top shelf. Grabbing the container, you set it down on the counter, gently plucking the fruit from the stem. As you place twelve into a bowl, the simple task is marred by a feeling of unbelievable doubt. You try to fight off the creeping sensation of dread overcoming you. 

Is this a dumb idea? 

You pause, thoughts wandering. You think about how this tradition is said to bring luck and success in all areas of life, it was exciting at first, but now it feels like an absurd notion. Why did you want to do this in the first place? 

As you continue to prepare the grapes, you try to settle the unease you feel. This tradition is supposed to be fun, but now you feel like it represents something more. Something bigger. 

Silently, you hope Atsumu will come and drag you away from this nonsense. It was always easier to ignore the thoughts when you were around others. 

But more than that, you wish for something else– Osamu. Looking down at the dish, you wish he would come and tell you how he feels. Reassure you there’s some merit in your thought. 

If that happened, you wouldn’t need the grapes anymore. It would prove that you had more than enough luck on your side. 

You really wish he was here. 

His lack of presence only emphasizes the emptiness of the room, and your heart lurches with the desire for him to be here with you. It’s pointless; though, you’re sure he’s gone home by now, and you’re still here with nothing but a bowl of fruit and unanswered questions.  

Running the sink, you wash the fruit, hoping it’ll help you calm down. But you realize that pushing down these thoughts is a futile task. You can’t keep pretending like you don’t feel this magnetic pull to him– you can’t keep acting like you don’t need him. 

You love him too much to ignore it anymore. 

FIVE MINUTES UNTIL MIDNIGHT, and you wonder if you should forget your idea and return to celebrate with the others. 

You haven’t gotten under the table yet. Instead, you’re standing idly by the counter, staring at the grapes with more intensity than they’re worth. With the magnitude of your previous realization sitting heavy on your chest, you wonder if this tradition holds the key to anything. 

Could it help you learn to navigate your now undeniable feelings? 

The thought of grapes being the answer to all your problems is such a silly idea that you giggle to yourself. It takes some of the weight off your mind. 

And then, with comedic timing, you hear Osamu call your name. 

Snapping your head to the doorframe, you see his figure walking towards you, the door swinging closed in his wake. The clock in the room ticks steadily, but time seems to move slowly. Though a typically reserved person, his presence feels large and looms over you, causing your heart to pound with want. 

Clearing your throat, you pick the bowl up, holding it tight to your chest like a shield. 

“I thought you went home,” You say, face warm. 

It’s almost time now, but Osamu’s sudden appearance has thrown a wrench in your plans. 

“Nah,” He waves his hand dismissively, “Just crashed on Kita’s bed for a bit. Shop was busy. Needed to recharge.” 

You hum mindlessly, finding it hard to focus. Adorning a fitted shirt and a simple pair of jeans, it makes you almost mad at how he doesn’t have to try, and he still looks good. 

You’re so screwed. 

“How’d you know I was here?”  You ask, tapping your fingers against the dish. The cool porcelain touches your fingertips and sends a rush down your spine. 

“‘Tsumu told me.” He explains, “ ‘S ‘cause he heard I was lookin’ for you.” 

Your heart stutters. “You were looking for me?” 

“‘Course I was,” He replies, amused. He says it like you’re silly for thinking otherwise. Lips turning into a slight grin, he shrugs, “‘S almost Midnight.” 

He steps closer, not seeming bothered at all. His gaze locks on yours, and you feel like it’s on purpose. When he tries to reach for a grape, you quickly jerk the dish out of reach. Osamu looks at you curiously. 

“What’re you doin’ here, anyways?” He asks, a playful glint in his eyes. There’s something else, too– but you can’t place it yet. 

You hold up the bowl, feeling a bit ridiculous having to explain yourself, “I’m— uh, gonna eat twelve of these under a table.” 

His gaze has your mind reeling. Tilting his head, he peers at you, “Why wouldn’t ya just eat ‘em right now? Grapes ‘re good.” 

You giggle at his simple nature. Of course he’d want to eat the snack as soon as possible. Trying to play it cool, you swat his hand away. His hand brushes against yours and makes you shiver. 

Clearing your throat, you avert your eyes, “It’s ‘cause people say if you eat them under the table at midnight, you’ll gain success in all areas of life.” You pause before quickly adding, “Even romance.” 

You regret it as soon as you say it, but you can’t do anything about it now. 

He raises his eyebrows, “Ya want a boyfriend?” 

“It would be nice, I guess,” You stammer, embarrassed but relieved to say something truthful about your feelings for once.

“I didn’t know that,” He hums thoughtfully.

An agonizing silence hangs in the air. The only noise comes from the increasingly rowdy crowd in the other room. 

Osamu breaks the still before you can. 

“So why aren’t ya under a table yet?” He asks, looking down at his watch, “‘S almost time.” 

Smiling sheepishly, you look down at the floor, “Well, I was gonna do it, but now I’m insecure ‘cause Atsumu said I’d look dumb being all alone.” 

He scoffs, “Don’t listen to ‘Tsumu– he’s the dumb one.” 

You chuckle, “I guess, yeah, but still, I’d feel better if I could’ve found someone to do it with me. Kinda like a solidarity thing, y’know?”

“Yeah,” He agrees, then grabs the bowl without warning. You lunge to grab it back, but he holds it just out of reach when you get close. Looking around the room, he seems like he’s considering his options. You whine. 

“Samu! I need those!” 

“Ya wanna do it right there?” He asks, ignoring your plea and pointing at a cozy table hidden in the nook of Kita’s kitchen. His voice is low and laced with a teasing energy. 

Taken aback, you stop your efforts. You stare at him. 

Was he going to do the tradition with you?  

He starts to walk away, and you stand there, confused. He looks over his shoulder, still holding the bowl out of your reach, “Well,” He says, “Ya comin’?”

“I…” You swallow, heart filling with something hopeful, “You’re serious?”  

“Dead.” He quips. 

And because you could never say no to him– and you also really did want to do the tradition— you haphazardly scramble to grab more grapes from the counter since Osamu had stolen yours. 

Kita would just have to forgive you for eating all his food. 

ONE MINUTE UNTIL MIDNIGHT, and your body warms from being in such close proximity to Osamu. If it were anyone else, you’d laugh at how the two of you barely fit under the small table, your knees awkwardly bumping and arms pressed together. But because it’s him, the closeness hurts. Your hands are so close that you ache to reach out and touch him. Every small movement sends a jolt of electricity through you. The faint scent of his cologne– sandalwood, you think– clings to his person and makes your pulse quicken.

Everything feels so trivial with him next to you. This moment shouldn’t feel as intimate as it does, but you can’t help it. 

Looking at the grapes, you wonder why he’s doing this. Did he feel bad for you? Is that why he wasn’t somewhere else, celebrating with his brother and other friends?

It’s all too much. At this rate, you’ll die before the clock strikes twelve. 

You have to say something. 

“I didn’t know you believed in stuff like this.” You say, careful to keep your voice steady. 

He turns to you, and you can feel his breath on your face. The sudden nearness steals your own breath away. 

He’s so close. 

“I like eating grapes.” He shrugs, his voice as calm as you wish you were. Pausing, he parts his lips to speak, eyes glimmering with something unspoken, “And maybe I need a little luck too.” 

You’re too eager to know what he’s talking about to hide your embarrassingly shrill speech, “Luck? With what?” 

His gaze holds yours, and for a second, you feel like he’s about to say something important– but he doesn’t. 

Instead, he gives you a sly smile. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see if it works,” He says. It’s teasing, but there’s something else in his eyes. It makes your heart lurch. 

His words settle over you like the weight of the sky, crushing you with their ambiguity. It’s cruel, how vaguely he speaks. Doesn’t he know what he’s doing to you? How he makes you feel? All you can do is gape at him, the air filling with so much tension that you’re sure he can feel it too. 

The countdown starts in the other room and delays your inevitable spiral. Nodding at him, you look at the grapes in front of you, preparing yourself for the task you originally set out to do.

You’re so focused that you miss how Osamu’s still looking at you. 

ONE MINUTE PAST MIDNIGHT, and you’ve both finished your grapes. The faint echoes of drunken cheering filter in from the other room– a signal that it’s time to leave the kitchen and rejoin the celebration. Despite this, neither you or Osamu have moved from your places under the table. You’re still so close. The sound of your shaky breaths dance together, and the heat of his touch burns your skin. 

He hasn’t stopped looking at you. 

You try not to meet his gaze. It’s charged and entirely too intense for you to even begin to wrap your head around what it all means. Maybe you’re looking too deeply into things again. But you don’t think you are. 

Eyes darting around the room, you settle on looking at the clock. Its ticking has sped back up to a normal pace, and you focus on the calming rhythm. 

It’s useless, though. You can’t ignore him. Not for long. 

“What?” You breathe out, still not looking at him directly. 

“Nothin’,” He echoes, voice equally quiet. 

You swallow, finally allowing yourself to indulge in the intimacy of having his complete attention. Examining his face, your eyes widen. He’s really staring. You squirm from the intensity of the situation, accidentally bumping his side. You squeak out a “Sorry!” And he laughs. It’s full of warmth and affection, and it makes the hairs on your arm stand. 

Your breath hitches. Has he always acted like this with you? 

He says your name and smiles softly. Gaze pining you in place, dark eyes filled with intent, “Ya think we’ll both get what we want this year?” 

Your stomach flips.  

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. The closeness paired with the intensity of his stare is almost unbearable. You’re sure he can see your heart beating out of your chest if he hadn’t picked up on it already.

He shrugs, “Dunno.” Then he gets up from under the table, brushing dust off his knees. The ghost of his touch lingers on your skin, and you have half the mind to tell him to come back. Under the table, it felt like you two were in your own world, but now you’re worlds apart. 

His hand falls in front of your face to help you up, and you accept it just to feel him touch you again. 

It’s silent for a moment as you two stand next to each other. You’re still close, even though you don’t have to be. 

“Hey,” Osamu says softly, voice cutting through the tension, “Happy New Year.” 

You blink at him, chest tight, “Yeah, Happy New Year.” 

He hesitates, just for a moment, mouth opening like he wants to say something more, “I…” He starts but then shakes his head, “I think a lot’s gonna change this year.” 

You ache from everything left unspoken and what could be. An indescribable feeling settles over you, and your mind races with possibility. This year is a fresh slate– a chance for something new.

With luck on your side, maybe that something new could be with Osamu.

—a/n HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! This was supposed to be a 500 word drabble for a multi-character post, but I got a bit carried away…whoops! I hope you guys enjoyed regardless. I know longer fics don’t typically do well on tumblr, so If you read everything, I’m very grateful! I hope the Holiday season treated everyone who celebrate well :3.  

–a/n #2: according to mexican tradition, you’re supposed to match your underwear to what aligns with your desire for the new year. you and osamu both wore red aka the color of love. do with that what u will. (@cherrysurf gave me this idea!) 

[chuusmuts]

imagine innocent!kabukimono losing his mind

smut. afab reader, fingering, slight boobs and nipple play, oral (female receiving), marking, fingering. not proofread.

yeah, it's been a while ig... anyway, new ver of innocent kabukimono because why not (can't really call him innocent now but idk and tbh idc).

who would've thought that the day when he had to rate your dress would come? oftentimes, you would wear a casual outfit everyday, even to gatherings. but this, this was different– you were meeting your girl friends which you hadn't seen in years. so obviously, you wanted to look as pretty as you could.

therefore, here he was, seated on your bed as he watched you picked all kind of dresses from your wardrobe before throwing them beside him. he could feel his cheeks heating up at seeing you in just a towel as he tried his hardest to play it off as if he wasn't affected by your presence. but the fact that his dick was tenting his kimono was a dead giveaway.

"oh... uhm..." he fumbled over his words as blush dusted his cheeks and ears. "i- i can help you with that." he stuttered out, shifting uncomfortably on the soft mattress. his gaze flickered between the dresses laid out and your exposed skin, torn between choosing one and admiring you. his heart rate quickened as you took a step closer to him, choosing a few dresses.

"but i- it might be better if you picked something yourself." he suggested timidly, his voice barely above a whisper. he couldn't bear the thought of seeing you uncomfortable because of him. you put your index finger against your chin, indicating you're thinking before speaking up while holding up two elegant dresses, "then, i'll try both of these dresses and you tell me which one is prettier, okay?" without waiting for his response, you ran into the bathroom and changed into one of the dresses you chose.

minutes later, kabukimono watched with wide-eyed as you emerged from the bathroom wearing a short, black dress. It clung to every curve of your body, leaving little to his imagination. his breath hitched in his throat, and his mouth immediately went dry. "what do you think? mind rating from one to ten?" you spun around, a happy smile plastered on your cute face. the way your hips tilted gave a glimpse of ass crack showing just how short your dress was.

his eyes trailed down your body, taking in the way the fabric hugged your hips and accentuated your ass. he swallowed hard as unholy thoughts started to filled his mind. this was too much for him, and yet he couldn't tear his gaze away. subconsciously, his gaze dropped lower to where the hem of the dress rode up slightly to reveal a hint of your crack, causing the urge to touch you and to feel your soft skin under his fingers was mind-blowing."t- ten. i-it's... it's really pretty..." he murmured, shakily.

your smile grew even wider after hearing his response. you grabbed another dress excitedly and quickly ran to the bathroom. "i'll try this one next. don't go anywhere!" you said while you did so. he nodded jerkily, his eyes glued to your retreating form. he tried to look away, but he found himself unable to resist watching as you disappeared behind the bathroom door. this was definitely strange— he was just a puppet, a failed, innocent puppet who was thrown away and was exposed to this cruel world. this wasn't supposed to happen, but he couldn't help it as the image of your fresh ass crack flashed in his mind, making his dick throb even harder.

he groaned softly, rubbing his free hand over his throbbing member through the fabric of his kimono. it was becoming more and more obvious that he was getting turned on by this whole situation. he waited impatiently, shifting from foot to foot as he tried to ignore the ache in his groin. he knew that he shouldn't be touching himself like this, but he couldn't seem to stop. just the thought of you coming back out in that other dress was driving him wild.

though, as soon as he heard the creaking of the door, he immediately removed his hand from his member and tried to act normal. it's amazing how you're so oblivious to his abnormal breathing and the way he's sweating and blushing so much. nevertheless, you stepped out of the bathroom shyly with a blush coating cheeks, "w- what do you think about this one?" you looked breathtaking in the new dress– a pastel pink number that clung to your curves even tighter than the previous one.

kabukimono's eyes widened as you stood in front of him. the low neckline revealed more of your cleavage was mouthwatering, and the off-the-shoulder design left your shoulders bare, accentuating your slender neck. he loved the way the dress fell just above your ankles, creating a sense of elegance and grace.

"fuck." he cursed to himself. "it's..." he paused, struggling to find the right word. his gaze kept darting between your face and your breasts that were practically spilling out from the dress, lost in the beautiful sight of you. "...breathtaking." the word slipped out before he could censor himself. without realizing it, he took a step towards you, his eyes filled with desire. his tongue swiped over his lips as he fought the urge to reach out and touch you.

the blush on your cheeks darkened and you instantly turned shy. you didn't know what got into you but your smaller fingers swiftly reached out to him, holding his hand gently and pulling him closer, "do you want to touch my dress, kabuki?"

and the next moment you knew, you were pinned by him.

it was quick when he pushed you against the bed, his weight was pressed into yours, on top of yours. he found himself breathing heavily as if he didn't know how to breathe at the first place. his hands were beside your head, trapping you and suddenly he didn't understand why he needed to wear clothes anymore, why YOU needed to wear that gorgeous dress anymore. it was as if his sanity had left him, the desire to touch you, to fuck you getting stronger and overwhelming him.

he was desperate, desperate for you.

"...kabukimono?" you asked confusingly, your hands crawling up to caress his cheek and your thumb brushing against his lips which caused his breath to hitch and his eyes fluttered shut. the sensation of your thumb brushing against his lips was almost too much, sending shivers shooting through his veins and making you irresistible.

he opened his eyes again, looking down at you with a mix of desperation and longing. his hands tightened around yours, pulling them away from his face and bringing them down to rest on your waist. "i... i can't help it." he whispered, his voice husky with arousal.

his hips grounded against yours, the hardness of his cock pressing insistently against the thin fabric of your dress and he bit his lower lip, stiffling the moan he accidentally let out. "you're so fucking sexy." he breathed out, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

your eyes dilated slightly before the corner of your mouth curved upward into a soft smile. then carefully, and without a word, you lifted up his head and pulled it back down until both of your lips met. it was slow, sensual and soft kiss, one that he'd never expect from you.

but he groaned into your lips, urging you to go faster and kept up with him. he drank your lips in a quick and careless way without any thought about the future as you tried your best to keep up with his intense speed. a moan escaped your lips and your eyes were closed as his hand found itself on your nape.

kabukimono's world narrowed down to the feeling of your lips against his own. he kissed you fiercely, hungrily, as if he was starved for the taste of you while his hand on your nape tightened, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. the other hand slid up from your collarbone to you shoulder before slipping beneath the hem of your dress.

his fingers danced across your skin, teasing over the swell of your breast before cupping its softness. he squeezed them gently, massaging the firm mound as he continued to ravage your mouth with his, causing soft moans continued spilling from your delicious lips. a soft growl rumbled in his throat, vibrating against your lips. in that moment, kabukimono was consumed by need, he wanted nothing more than to tear away the layers of fabric separating their bodies and claim you completely.

and he did just that.

unwittingly, you whined loudly as he ripped off your dress and left you naked. arching your back, you felt his tongue licking the tip of your nipple. "fuck..." he growled against your tits as he sucked them eagerly. he tasted of sweat and need, and it was driving you crazy. your body trembled under his, but instead of pushing him away, your legs parted subtly, inviting him to move lower.

he leaned forward once more, kissing and sucking all over your skin until red and purple marks were all over you. each nip and lick sent shivers running down your spine, until you could feel yourself growing wetter beneath your dress.

kabukimono's attention was solely focused on your body, on every inch of skin he could see and touch. he lavished attention on each breast, suckling and nibbling until they were flushed and throbbing. his hands roamed over your curves, squeezing and kneading the flesh as if trying to imprint his touch onto your skin.

as he moved further south, his kisses trailed along your stomach before reaching the apex of your thighs. he glanced up at you, his indigo eyes burning with lust as he saw the slick evidence of your arousal. without hesitation, he inhaled your scent deeply before burying his face between your legs.

his hands firmly spread your thighs wide, giving him full access to feast upon your dripping cunt, exposing your clit to his eager mouth. a lewd soud keened from your throat as he dipped his tongue into your folds, tasting the sweet essence of your arousal. a guttural moan vibrated against your clit as he licked and lapped at your pussy. he was relentless as his mouth worshipped every inch of inside your walls, making your breath hitched endlessly and your hips bucked involuntarily every time he let out a loud slurping sound.

feeling your body react to his ministrations especially your hands which were gripping and pulling on his hair tightly only spurred him on further. his tongue delved deeper into your warmth, lapping at the sensitive walls of your pussy. his hands held you steady, one gripping your hip tightly while the other wandered upwards to tease your hardened nipple. he sucked hard on the little nubbin, using his teeth to give a slight pinch before returning to your needy slit.

kabukimono was lost in the taste of you, in the way your body quivered and squirmed beneath his touch. it was intoxicating, driving him wild with desire.

the previous hand had slipped between your legs and he slipped two fingers into your wetness. he curled them, seeking out that sensitive spot inside you that would make you scream. his thumb circled your swollen clit, making sure to apply pressure that had jolts of electricity coursing through your body and you writhing beneath him.y

he pumped his fingers slowly, setting a rhythm that made your toes curl. every thrust was accompanied by another slurping or a sharp nip of his teeth teeth on your clit. tears gathered at the corner of your eyes and perspiration began to run down your forehead as you pulled his hair harder due to the dual assault on your sex.

kabukimono worked his fingers and mouth in perfect harmony, intent on drawing out your pleasure until you were a trembling mess beneath him. his tongue flicked over your clit, alternating between gentle licks and rough sucks.

the sounds of your moans and whimpers as well as his filled the air. once more he curled them, finding that sweet spot that made you gasp and arch your back. with his free hand, he reached up to stroke himself through the thin fabric of his kimono. the friction was deliciously torturous, adding another layer of sensation to the already overwhelming experience. he grunted softly and his movements becoming more erratic as he neared his own edge. he felt like he could cum just by eating you out and hearing your whimpers.

with every stroke, he felt you tighten around his fingers, your body ready to explode under his relentless onslaught. yet, he quickly stopped before you could cum, pulling out his mouth as well as his fingers from your drooling cunt, making you whined needily. chuckling breathlessly, he licked your slick off his fingers before slipping off his kimono, revealing his hard length and pushing it entirely into you.

and instead of letting you cry out, he pressed his lips against yours, silencing you as he jerked into you. your walls immediately clenched around him, signaling that you were close to cumming. kabukimono broke the kiss momentarily, panting heavily as he thrust into you. his cock was thick and hard, stretching you deliciously while he began to move. he grabbed your ass firmly, angling his hips so that he could hit that sweet spot inside you.

his thrusts became more urgent, more fast and hard. with each push he grunted, his voice a low rumble against your skin. you could feel his pulse quickening and his strokes becoming erratic. his lips found yours again, muffling your cries of pleasure. though, there was no hiding the way your body shook underneath him as well as how your inner muscles clenched around him as you teetered on the brink of release.

you yelped in pleasure as he continued to abuse your hole. once more, he pulled out his entire length and slammed it back into you, succesfully making you saw stars as you came with a loud mewl. you breathed heavily, head still dizzy from the pleasure.

he didn't gave you a chance to rest as he relentlessly pounded into you until he could hold back no longer. but before he reached his climax, you could hear him sobbing quietly. "fuck, you feel so good, i don't want this to end..." and he released his seed, filling you up with a cry just as loud as yours.

kabukimono was shaking, his body tensing as he spilled his seed deep inside you, as tears streamed down his cheeks. he slowed down his pace, his thrusts more gentler now as he rode out his orgasm all while his cock twitched inside your clenching walls.

he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily. his sobs were quiet, barely audible above the sound of your racing heartbeat. his body trembled slightly just as he came down from his high and his grip on your thigh loosening. despite everything, there was something undeniably comforting about being close to you. resting his forehead against yours, he took a moment to catch his breath before lifting himself off of you. but even as he did, he couldn't help but pull you closer, craving and needing the contact.

and now you're in his arms as he planted feather-light kisses all over you, your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your hands, your arms and your neck as he murmured. "i'm sorry, i apologize deeply, i didn't know what came into me. that must had hurt."

you stared at him dumbfounded, eyes still glassy, speechless as he grabbed the back of your hands and kissed them, including each one of your knuckles. a soft smile then appeared on your face before you placed your hand on his hair, caressing it gently. "don't worry about me, i'm fine. how about you? you should worry about yourself too."

kabukimono looked up at you, his indigo eyes shimmering with unshed tears. he let out a shaky sigh, leaning into your touch. "i'm alright... i think," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. his hands moved to cup your face, thumbs brushing away the remaining tears.

he leaned forward, pressing a soft, tender kiss to your lips. there was nothing forceful or demanding about it; instead, it was slow and gentle, almost reverential. it wasn't often that kabukimono allowed himself such moments of vulnerability, but with you, he seemed unable to resist. he needed you, craved your touch, your affection. and right now, in this moment, he felt truly content.

in the end, you had to wait for him to sleep before getting up and getting ready again for the gathering. the event almost came to an end when you arrived there.

[inkedinshadows]

Calanmai

Day 28: Breeding kink — Tamlin x f!reader

Warnings: oral (f receiving), p in v, rough sex

Word count: 1.507

A/N: sorry again for the delay in posting this one. I’m not sure about how this turned out, I honestly don’t know what to think of it. It's not exactly what I wanted it to be, but it also is what I wanted? Idk, I have no idea lol

Tamlin had warned you about Calanmai. He explained what it was and what he was required to do, and he made sure you knew you didn’t have to go if you didn’t want to. But you had stood by each other’s side since the day you met months ago, and you weren’t about to abandon him now.

Especially because you knew he hoped you would be there, even if he never said it and left the choice to you. And you wanted to be there. You wanted to see this part of him, too, and love it as much as every other part.

You stood among the faeries lining the path that led to the cave where the ritual would take place. They were all female, all waiting for Tamlin’s arrival and hoping to be chosen.

Would he choose you? You had no way of knowing for sure. It was the magic flowing through him tonight that would make the choice, not him. But you pushed the thought away, unable to stomach the idea of him with some other girl. Even more so because he had told you he needed to “complete the rite inside the chosen one.” You needed it to be you.

The drumming picked up rhythm and volume until it was an almost deafening frenzy. Swaying on your feet alongside the others, you resisted the urge to cover your ears and instead focused on the other end of the path, where every faerie—lesser or High Fae—had gone utterly still.

You felt the thrum of power before you saw him, and when he appeared, he looked like a god.

Tamlin wasn’t wearing a shirt, his muscled chest painted with swirls of blue ink that shimmered in the light of the bonfires. His hair was unbound, and a crown of golden leaves rested on the top of his head. His back was rigid, his stride long and unhurried as he surveyed every faerie gathered just for him. A part of you swore he was looking for someone specific.

But what if you were wrong? What if he wouldn’t pick you? The question crawled its way into your mind, and this time, you couldn’t shake the concern—not when you heard the girls next to you sigh dreamily. You couldn’t blame them, but something churned in your stomach.

Suddenly, Tamlin stopped in his tracks. He seemed to smell something in the wind, and then his head snapped in your direction, his eyes immediately locking on yours amidst the crowd. You held your breath as he stalked closer, and only when he stood in front of you did you realize what he meant when he said he wouldn’t be himself tonight.

His pupils were blown wide, his short fangs exposed, just like his claws. Even his beautiful features seemed more animalistic than usual—sharper. There was nothing soft in his face, nor in his voice, as he snarled, “Y/N. Come with me.”

Every worry disappeared the moment he grabbed your wrist and headed for the entrance of the cave, not bothering to glance back to check if you were keeping up.

You followed silently as he led you deep into the hillside, the rock walls illuminated by only a few lanterns casting long shadows. Tamlin stopped after a turn in the tunnel and pointed to several blankets laid out on the ground.

“That’s where I’m going to take you,” he growled.

The sound trembled down your body, a shiver of anticipation and excitement coursing through you at this new version of him. He pulled you closer until your chest pressed against his. The paint smeared on the front of your dress, but you were too caught up in his eyes to notice.

You caressed his cheek as you normally would, and something softened in his gaze, if only slightly.

“I’ll try to be gentle,” he said, but there was a light tremor in his voice that revealed just how much he was struggling against the magic of the land.

You smiled, shaking your head. “Don’t.”

As if the word were a trigger, the softness you had glimpsed disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving behind only that feral, lustful gaze. His mouth descended on your neck, and he bit the tender spot where it met your shoulder, not hard enough to pierce the skin and draw blood, but enough to make you yelp at the jolt of pain. Yet, there was a sort of tenderness to it all—the way he soothed the spot with his tongue before he pulled back, how his claws retracted until they were nothing more than sharp nails so he wouldn’t hurt you.

Tamlin was already panting, a victim to whatever greater power flowed through him. His cock was straining in his pants, and you reached for it, palming him through the fabric. He flinched, as if not used to being touched in such a situation.

“Let me,” you murmured.

He bared his teeth in another growl. “Later.”

He was on you again, kissing you with such hunger that a moan escaped your lips. He dragged a short claw over the laces at the back of your dress and the fabric soon slipped off your body. You shivered as the cold air of the cave hit your skin, and a guttural groan came from Tamlin at the sight of your peaked nipples.

For a moment, you caught another glimpse of your beloved High Lord in his eyes when he helped you lay down on the blankets. But soon, his clothes joined yours, and he was back in the grip of the magic-induced frenzy.

The male that would normally murmur sweet nothings and soft praises as he pleasured you was gone. This Tamlin kept silent while he spread your legs and lowered his mouth to your cunt. His thumb drew tight circles on your clit, making sure to use just the pad and avoid scratching you with the sharp nail. Your eyes closed as he lapped at you, but he stopped shortly after—once you were wet enough for him to slide in effortlessly.

He thrust into you with a single roll of his hips and you cried out, the sound swallowed by his mouth when he kissed you again. He immediately set a punishing rhythm, fingers digging into your thighs, and you welcomed the slight twinge of pain, relishing in the knowledge that he would leave little marks on your flesh. By the time the night was over, you hoped there would be many more all over your body.

Tamlin looked like he couldn’t get enough of you. He was nibbling on your neck one moment and sucking on your nipples the next, and then his mouth was on yours again. Yet his pace never faltered, pounding into you relentlessly as if his very life depended on it.

“Tam,” you whimpered. You held on to his broad shoulder, your hands smudged with the blue paint that was now also smeared on your breasts. “Gods, this is—”

“I’m not stopping,” he interrupted you with a snarl. “I need to come inside you to complete the ritual.”

His words were accentuated by a deeper thrust that had you almost screaming, but concern about him stopping was actually the last thing on your mind. You knew that already and you wanted him to come inside. A primal, hidden part of you wanted—needed—him to breed you.

“That’s not what I—” you tried again, but Tamlin was too lost in the magic.

He growled and kissed you, teeth slightly sinking into your lower lip. His hips slammed into you faster, harder, and you were soon arching beneath him as you neared your climax.

“I’m about to come, princess.” His voice was barely recognizable. “I’m going to fill you up.”

“Yes… yes, please,” you whined. “Breed me, Tam. Put a baby in me.”

His grip on your thighs grew tighter, his thrusts became frantic and he came with a roar that echoed off the cave, spurting hot seed inside you. The sensation pushed you over the edge and you reached your own orgasm just a few seconds later. You clenched around him and as you did, you felt a wave of power shake the ground beneath you and expand all around.

“The ritual,” Tamlin muttered. He sounded more like himself now, though the animalistic growl lingered, along with the unnatural glint in his green eyes.

You went limp beneath him after coming down from your high, but Tamlin was still moving, slowly dragging his cock in and out of you, pushing his cum deeper inside you.

“We’re not done yet,” he warned you. His hands let go of your legs to roam up your body and cup your breasts. “That was just the bare minimum we had to do.”

You were still panting, but you offered him a smile. He had told you that too. The Great Rite could take hours, if not the whole night.

“Then keep fucking me, High Lord.”

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[notarmedandnotdangerous]

hi i just wanted to say I LOVE UR POSTS SO MUCH YOU ARE DOING A SERVICE TO THE MALE READER BUCKY FANS🫡 anyways pls.. more dom bucky i beg.. specifically 1940's bucky where yk it was illegal to be fruity.. PLS idk why a gay-in-denial 1940's bucky has been stuck in my head for so long anyways bye ily goat

a/n: hiii thank you sm i really appreciate it!! :) i really try to serve the male readers out there as much as i can!! i didn't really have a lot of knowledge about officer ranks, so i had to do a bit of research, and it took me quite a while, but i really hope i captured what you wanted in this, i hope you enjoy it 😋

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+18 mdni! sergeant!bucky pining after duty officer!reader who's too scared to tell bucky how he actually feels.

cw: dom!bucky, sub!m!reader, porn with plot (shocking), pining, reader calls bucky 'james', and 'sergeant', bucky calls reader 'darling', and 'officer', flirty!bucky, innocent!reader, homophobia mentioned, bucky has a hair pulling kink, missionary, fingering, blowjob (?), handjob, creampie (?), they say 'i love you' at the end!!!

word count: >4.6k

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summer, 1943

the war had taken so much already, cities, brothers, allies. but it had also given you and bucky, who was a sergeant at the time, something strange, something private. he met you in an office in new york city, crowded with typewriters, and ration slips. he wore his confidence like a medal of honor, while you were all jittery nerves and untied laces, always adjusting your tie a bit too tight.

“you’re going to strangle yourself one day, you know. death by self-doubt.”

“it’s just.. crooked. the knot feels off.” you reached towards your neck to straighten your tie, again.

“no it’s not. it’s perfect, as always. it’s you that’s twisted up.. inside.” he pressed his pointer finger against your chest, where your heart was.

“that’s reassuring.” you said dryly, swatting his finger away from you playfully.

“i mean it kindly, officer.” even though he teased you often, he liked the way you carried yourself, previously mentioning how it gave you a ‘clandestine charm’ of sorts.

“is that supposed to be a compliment, sergeant?” you played along, the both of you had always enjoyed calling each other by your ranks, it just made you feel connected to him, in a way that you shouldn’t be feeling.

“depends on how you view it.” bucky shrugged, before walking away. he complimented you often, almost too often, as if he wanted you to believe him one day.

one morning, you had run late, your collar was buttoned wrong while your tie was slightly crooked. you hurried into the office, stumbling into your seat. bucky was there already, waiting by your table. he tipped his hat at you, making your face heat up in embarrassment. you prayed that no one else saw, that no one would suspect the way you felt about him.

“you’re all buttoned up wrong, officer.” he stepped closer towards you, fixing your collar and tie for you. his fingers had brushed against your throat in the process, making you hold your breath nervously. he seemed to have noticed the way you reacted though, he chuckled, before pulling away. your heart knew what your mouth dared not to say.

it was 1943, you could lose everything for wanting a man like him. bucky never seemed afraid, though. he’d wink at you during tea breaks, and write notes, either passing them to you or sneakily tucking them into the pockets of your coats. he’d write you notes like ‘if you find yourself losing sleep tonight, indulge and think about me. i’ll be thinking of you too, no doubt.’. you never wrote back, you were too scared to. but you’ve kept all of them though, slipping the notes in between pages of your notebooks to hide them from the eyes of others.

whenever the both of you had to work extra long shifts, he’d join you, pushing the paperwork over so that he’d be able to sit on your desk. he’d always lean in, talking about paris, as if it was a dream the both of you might share, someday.

“we’d go dancing.” he spoke, his voice low. “we wouldn’t have to be afraid there.”

“war will be over soon, maybe.” you laughed, your head tipping downwards to look at the ground.

winter 1943.

a few months had passed since you met bucky. one night, the both of you had drinks at your flat, the both of you sat on the floor against the couch as you drank.

“you shouldn’t look at me like that.” you turned to bucky, he looked even better in this dim lighting, it made you want him more than you should.

“like what, darling?”

“like you know me. like.. like you want to.” the both of you sat in silence for a while, before he broke the silence.

“maybe i do.”

“this.. we’re not in a french novel, james. it’s not poetry. you know what they’d do to us if they found out.” you sighed out, taking a sip from your glass of whiskey.

“men like us. you said it. that’s the first time you’ve ever put yourself in the same sentence as me.”

“..d-don’t make light of this.”

“i’m not. i never do, not with you.” bucky turned towards you, his hands fidgeting with a stopwatch.

“easy for you to say, you don’t have a father waiting at home with expectations, or a commanding officer who’ll feed you to the wolves if you screw up.” you said, bitterly.

“you think i’m not scared? you think i don’t lie awake at night, thinking about who might’ve saw us talking too long, standing too close?” he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “but i’d rather risk it than live pretending all of this isn’t real.” you stared at him, your jaw tightening.

“you.. you don’t understand, james. i’ve spent my whole life keeping quiet, k-keeping my hands to myself.” you spat out. “you.. you come along with your easy smile, and your stupid poems..” your eyes were glassy, filled with tears that threatened to spill out. “i.. i don’t know how to survive the way you love.”

“i’ve seen enough of this war to know one thing. the world doesn’t give you many chances at something good, you have to take it when it comes.” bucky took your hands in his, caressing your fingers. “i don’t wanna mess this up, not with you.”

“it.. it’s not that easy.” tears rolled down your cheeks as your breath stuttered.

“then let me teach you, darling. i’m not asking you to shout it from the rooftops. just.. just stay with me little longer. don’t go down there pretending again.” there was a long silence, before you leaned against his shoulder. not quite a touch, but just enough.

you had let bucky stay at your flat, just to keep you company. you had let him take the bed, while you slept on the floor. the both of you laid awake, staring into the ceiling.

“when i was thirteen, i got caught staring at a boy for too long in the chapel. my father made me kneel in gravel for a day. told me i had the devil in me.” bucky didn’t speak, just listened as you opened up. “funny thing is, i believed him. i-i thought if i ignored it.. prayed hard enough, it’ll all go away.” you let out a bitter laugh.

“did it?”

“you know it didn’t. you walk around like it’s not a sin to want someone like me, like.. like it’s not a curse. i don’t know how you do it, james.”

“it is a curse, but not the kind they think. the real curse is hiding, watching the person you love walk away, all because the both of you are too scared to love each other.” he spoke, his voice cracking. “you know i love you, right?” he confessed. you were quiet, just listening to what he had to say. “i’m not asking you to say it back.. i just want to know that you feel something.”

“if i didn’t feel anything, i wouldn’t have invited you over, would’ve shut you out.” bucky sat up, moving down to pick you up from the floor. he set you down next to him on the bed, pulling the covers over the both of you.

“we could run away together, start a new life somewhere far away from here, like switzerland. someplace where no one would know who we are, and wouldn’t care if two men slept together in the same bed.” your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t move, not even an inch. you didn’t answer. no, you couldn’t, not when you knew what they would do to people like you.

“i don’t think a place like that exists, not yet at least.”

“maybe not, but i’d rather chase a lie than live without you.” the both of you turned in bed, to face each other. you looked at him, then, just barely, you smiled softly at him.

“have you always been this poetic?”

“only when i’m terrified. or in love.” bucky shuffled, sitting up. “can i..?” he looked at you, and you nodded. you moved closer to him, and let him kiss you. he pulled you onto his lap, all while continuing to kiss you.

“if we keep this up, someone’ll talk.”

“then let them.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out a button. “here. from my uniform. soldiers give the second button to someone they love. first one’s too proud, second one is close to the heart.” you stared at it momentarily, before reaching out to grab it. you held it in your palm as if it was something fragile, as if it would shatter. you placed the button underneath your pillow

“what if i lose it?”

“you won’t.” bucky kissed your forehead, innocently, before moving lower to kiss your neck as delicately as he could. “would you let me..” he looked down at your crotch, before looking back up at you. you were inexperienced, but he definitely wasn’t.

“yes, james, yes.” you nodded, nervously.

“it’s okay, i’ll be nice for you, darling. don’t have to take too much at once.”

“you promise? you won’t push me too hard, too fast?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a last ditch attempt to retreat to safer emotional ground.

“of course, darling. come on, strip for me.” bucky commanded, and you shyly removed your shirt and pants. “holy..” his brain practically short circuited when he saw you bare for the first time.

“you’re.. acting different, james.” you remarked, confused as to why bucky was so shocked.

“huh..? oh, uh, it’s nothing.” he snapped out of his trance, gently placing his hands on your bare hips. “just.. you’re just so pretty, darling.” he smiled as he kissed you gently, before taking his clothes off as well.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” you teased, voice filled with affection, and a tiny hint of mischief. “don’t let it get to your head, or i might start to think that you’re getting too cocky for your own good.” you added, with a wink.

“mhm, come on.” bucky let you lay against the pillows, while he propped your feet up on the bed as he slot his head in between your thighs. he kissed your inner thighs, and it made your cock twitch in your boxers. “it’s okay, darling. i’ve got you.” he pulled your boxers off gently, letting your cock spring out.

“oh, james..” you whispered, your eyes widening in surprise as the soft fabric of your boxers were gently tugged free. he leaned forward, kissing the base of your cock, before moving to the tip. “aah.. that.. that feels so good..” you breathed, your hips twitching involuntarily. “keep going..?” your words dissolved into a whispered plea, as his tongue began to explore you. he tried his best not to overwhelm you, after all, he was your first. he looked up at you from in between your thighs, and your eyebrows furrowed.

“sorry.. c-can’t help it.” you stammered, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain eye contact. “just.. just feels too good.” your hands fisted the sheets as you arched your back. he started to tease your tip with his tongue now, wanting to slowly but consistently build up the pleasure.

“is that okay, darling?” he asked, and you nodded profusely in response.

“y-yes, just like that..” you whispered, your hips rocking up to meet his tongue. “feels like i’m drowning in pleasure..” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to the pleasure. “more, please, james.” you pleaded, your thighs trembling.

“mmh.” bucky hummed in approval, sucking on your tip. you whined, and tugged on his hair, unknowingly uncovering a kink that he, himself, wasn’t aware of. he stopped abruptly, trying to calm himself down from the sudden stimulation. “holy.. uugh, my god..”

“d-did i do something?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. when he finally looked up at you, his eyes were glazed over with lust, it was then, when you finally realised. “james.. i had no idea..”

“no. please, do that again.” he began to suck on your tip once more, waiting for you to tug on his hair more..

“aah, y-yes..” to please him, your fingers sunk into his short, dark hair, pulling gently. in response, his eyes rolled back.

“mmh..” bucky moaned, while his mouth was still on your cock, and it made you cum immediately. he tried his best to keep himself calm, but your thighs locked around his head as you came. when you finally came down from your high, you realised that he was rolling his hips against the mattress, trying to get off from you tugging on his hair.

“did i hurt you..?”

“no, of course not, darling. come here, please, i want more.. more of that.” you were pleasantly surprised as he turned into a needy mess, just from getting his hair tugged on. “do you want to suck me off too? or..”

“ah.. you want me to suck you off..?” you asked. “i.. i’ve never done that before, but if it’s something you want, i can.. i can learn, i’ll try for you.” you offered, climbing towards him. you got on your knees on the ground, while he sat on the edge of the bed.

“oh my god..” bucky was trying so hard to not cum just from the sight of you on your knees in front of him. “you can just.. try with your hands instead.”

“ah right.. with my hands.” you agreed, nodding as you slid your hands up his thigh, feeling the way his muscles tensed underneath your hands. “you want me to touch you.. like this?” you asked, your fingers gently stroking the inside of his thighs, making his breath hitch. “is it okay if i explore more.. here?” you trailed your touch lower, pulling your boxers off of you.

“yeah, please do.” he threw his head back, if he had to look down at you throughout the entire thing, he’d cum before you even touched him.

“oh my god, you’re so responsive, james.” you breathed, your touch becoming more confident as he seemed like he was enjoying it. “do you like that..? am i doing it right?”

“so- aagh, so good. yes, darling, k-keep going.” he whined when you circled your fingers around his tip. “g-gosh, please- aah..”

“tell me what you want, james, i want to learn.” you started to slowly stroke him, only for him to stop you, grabbing your wrist.

“no, want to cum inside you.” bucky spoke, absentmindedly, before realising what he had just admitted. you paused your ministrations, heart skipping a beat as his words sunk in.

“cum inside me.. like, inside my ass?” you asked, your voice a little shaky. “are you sure? i-i’ve never.. you know.” you trailed off, your face flushing red as you thought about the act.

“oh, darling, it’s okay. w-we don’t have to.” he pushed you back against the bed, and moved back in between your legs. “just let me make you feel good, okay?”

“you.. don’t have to worry about me. you’ve made me feel incredible already, james.” your hips jumped when he kissed your inner thighs. “i can take it.”

“are you sure? i don’t wanna rush you.” he looked up at you.

“yes, w-wanna make you feel good.” you cupped his face from in between your thighs. “i trust you, james.” his face flushed, you were so innocent, and so sweet, a huge contrast to him.

“you’re gonna kill me if you keep on sweet talking me like that.” bucky kissed your cheek, before letting you suck on his fingers. you sucked as well as you could, letting your drool drip down from the sides of your mouth. then, he pressed a finger into you slowly, making you gasp.

“it’s okay, you’re doing good.” he slowly thrusted his finger in and out of you, slowly stretching you open. soon after, he had three fingers in you, and you were moaning and gasping. “are you ready, darling?” you nodded diligently, face flushed bright red.

“please, do it.” he put you in a mating press, before he slowly pressed the tip against your hole, slowly entering you. you gasped at the stretch, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly.

“shh, i’ve got you.” bucky slowly entered you, inch by inch. when he finally sunk in fully, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing slowly. “you’re doing so good, i’m so lucky, so lucky to have you.” he started to slowly thrust, making you let out high-pitched whimpers that you didn’t even know were possible.

“y-you’re so.. haa.. so deep..” your head was thrown back as you let him slowly fuck you dumb. “feels so good..” you pulled his face towards you to kiss him, smiling softly at him. he started to thrust a bit harder, when he realised you’ve accommodated to his size, he hit your prostate perfectly, making you gasp for air with every thrust.

“you’re taking me so well.. nngh.. w-wouldn’t have it any other way.” he pressed your legs up against your chest, letting him fuck you impossibly deeper. all you could do was take it, letting him fuck you so good, you’d walk silly tomorrow.

“i-i’m gonna cum, james..” you whimpered, teary eyed as you spoke. “can i?.. p-please..”

“can’t say no to you, darling. not when i’m 9 inches deep inside you.” he leaned down to kiss you as you came, your cum spurting all over your abdomen. “aah- mmh, so good for me.” he started to thrust more frantically now, giving you a few harder thrusts before cumming inside with a groan. the both of you stayed together for a while, panting as you both came.

“i love you, sergeant.”

“love you too, officer.”

[machveil]

Trying not to think about Simon 'Always Doing Acts of Service and Caring for Others Silently' Ghost Riley forgetting to care for himself as much, and how it would probably touch a part of his heart he thought wasn't there anymore if someone did the same for him. Something simple, like just a new jacket after his old one got wrecked from wear and tear, that's thick and durable but soft and comfortable, a nice weight on his shoulders but doesn't make him sweat, resting over his chair. Or after a long day of work where he's dragging himself along, finding a meal already made for him sitting in the fridge, something actually cooked and seasoned the way he likes so he doesn't have to think about cooking or go to bed on an empty stomach. Idk, this has been rattling around in my brain all day and I needed to get it out, sorry if this is weird! Also really like your art and writing, congrats on the 1k, you deserve it and so much more!

anon I’m smooching your big, beautiful brain (I wrote this in one sitting, hope it’s not terrible lol)

Simon Riley is a man of action - Ghost, the most literal manifestation of serving. Ghost follows and gives orders to assure his team, his friends, make it home safe at the end of a deployment. as a Lieutenant, Simon wouldn’t say it out loud, but he cares so deeply for his team. Task Force 141 is a second home to him, more so the people, and thus makes it his job to protect them

but Simon Riley is also a man of action off duty - a civilian who’s heart rests in your hands. loyal as a dog, Simon would do anything for you. a man of action, he’ll insist you relax, you shouldn’t lift a finger for something small. anything Simon can do in your stead he will. because, while his team is a second home, his true home is you

but Simon, stubborn and strong as he is, gets tired. front door clicking shut, mask already being tugged off, his muscles are tense and sore after a long day. dirty blond hair messy and eyes half lidded with exhaustion, he’s still only got one thing on his mind - to serve you and make you happy. he already planned on trudging into the kitchen to make dinner, something simple but filling. he pauses when he smells food already though

kicking his boots off, worn and dirty, he makes his way to the little kitchen around the corner. cracking a small, barely there smile at the sight in front of him. you, moving about the kitchen. the lights a little dim - he’d change the lightbulb later, and there you are, cooking a meal. one step ahead of him, and he soaks in the domestic scene. a part of him wants to step in, tell you you’ve done enough and he’ll finish everything off… but he doesn’t have the heart to disrupt this cozy, intimate moment

it’s only when you see him does he approach, hands a touch too rough and calloused - he’s sure you’ll make him moisturize later. “Smells nice, lovie.”, he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hairline. eyes fluttering shut as he holds your hands, a small grin tugs at his lips, “S‘pose the food smells good too.”. he relishes in the laugh that leaves you, the way you squeeze his hands. he moves to press a kiss to your jaw, slightly crooked nose nudging against you as his hands wander to your hips - touch featherlight, as if handling you any rougher might shatter you

there’s a reluctance in his heart as he lets go of you, scoffing when you tell him to go sit down. “Bossy little thing.”, he mumbles, voice lighthearted as he leans back against a counter. he stays there for just a moment, one last glance at you happily cooking - cooking for him. it melts his heart knowing that you’re just a loyal as him, that you’d both run to the ends of the Earth for each other

he’s content to finally relax, leaving the kitchen to slump against a chair in the small dining room. head tilted back a little as he rolls his shoulders, his hands move to idly take his belt off - he’d change later, a hot shower after dinner always made him feel better. maybe he’d convince you to join him, better yet— maybe he’d convince himself to indulge in a hot bath instead. and when you join him at the table, sitting down next to him with a full plate for him, Simon feels butterflies in his stomach

he loves eating with you, sharing a meal and letting his guard down. gaze smitten as he listens to you recount your day, breathing steady as he hums. and when everything is done, stubborn man, he’ll take the dishes to the kitchen. as much as he’d like to wash them straight away, he settles for leaving them in the sink tonight. soon enough he’s sweeping you up in his arms - no matter how roughed up and sore he is, he always finds the strength to carry you. he’ll ignore any protest that, “Simon! I can walk—“, a gruff chuckle rumbling in his chest, “Know that, love, but I can carry you just fine.”

and from then on, Simon feels like he’s floating. in a dreamlike state, he sets you down on the cool bathroom floor, feet making contact with tile. gently thumbing at your hips, he presses a soft kiss to your lips, “Thank you.”. soft spoken words contrasting his gravely voice, another kiss pressed to your cheek - lips a little chapped, but he’s never heard you complain about them

and when you help each other slowly strip, the bathroom filling with mist like steam, he feels the tension in his muscles give. he puts up a little fight, grumbled words, when you insist on sudsing him up. he’s all bark though, when he feels you rub his aching shoulders he feels like he could never muster up any bite ever agiain. comfortable and turning to putty in your hands, he’ll happily let you mould him into a soft, gentle man

he’ll lazily return the favor, rough hands lathered in your body wash. content. feeling you under his palms, warm skin dotted with beads of water and bubbles, Simon’s content. a warmth in his chest that he’s still not used to. the simple intimacy of washing away the sweat and filth from the day, it makes Simon feel like a new man - and to wash you? he’s happy you feel safe enough, that you trust him, to handle you so carefully

and at the end of the night, cleaned from the dirt of his daily life, Simon settles in bed with you. all gentle touches and soft, murmured praise - you did so good for him today. he fights the back of his mind off, you’ve taught him better than to believe those gnawing words. Simon Riley deserves this. a phrase you carved into his heart, long since settled at the forefront of his mind. and as he holds you to his chest, warm hand on the small of your back, he sighs deeply…

a man of action deserves rest

[fortheb0ys]

Just thinking of cumming in Soap numerous times. You're tired, nearly falling asleep. He's crying his face a complete mess. Cum's leaking out of his ass and the base of your cock soaked it in.

You had already been tired from your schedule being taken up by training the rookies. Relaxing with your boyfriend and going to bed early was your plans for the evening but not Soap's.

No, his plans was to be fucked stupid for hours.

Now he's riding you as your eyes flutter, trying your damn hardest to stay awake. He's getting desperate, chasing a far high.

He wants another round. Getting tire was something Soap wasn't going to be for long time. He'd cum more times than you could count and with little down time he'd start right back up again which is an instance like right now.

Soap had just came for the fifth time and you three. You're extremely exhausted and Soap quite the opposite. He could go on for another two hours but you were ready to call it a night.

He bounces vigorously with a pout adorned on his face, frustrated at your lack of effort. His orgasm was so close. All he needed was your hands all over him. To bite, pinch, grope, anything. No, all he got was lazy squeezes on his waist. Your tired fingers weren't enough to bruise him.

Noticing Soap's disappointed attitude, you try to engage with his wants. You'd massage his sides, grip his waist to slam him down on your cock. Just to stop when you became tired once again.

You're both dirty, covered in cum and all you wanted to do was fall asleep with Soap in your arms.

"Come on, baby. Need ta cum again. Just this once, please." Soap would beg as tear pooled in his eyes.

You look at the pout on his face as tears stream down his cheek. A new found energy courses through you. With all the strength you can muster, you flip Soap onto his back and begin slamming into him.

"Johnny, one last time and you let me sleep. Deal?" You snarl, making it clear that it WAS going to be the last one.

Soap nodded, slightly scared how quickly you changed your demeanor. You pulled his knees back till they touch his shoulder. Soap face twists to discomfort than to pleasure as thrust into him without warning.

You were going at it hard and fast, wanting to quickly get things done. Even with the sudden burst of energy you weren't sure how long it would last.

Rythm was no where to be found as you continue to fuck hard into him. Words tumble out of Soap's mouth in incoherent babbles. His velvet walls constrict around you.

You hit deep inside him in this position. He can feel you rearranging his guts. He places his palm on his lower belly, the tip of your cock pushing against it with each thrust. The feeling sends him into the stars, his vision blurry.

With a final thrust, you both come undone.

He got what he wanted though now it feels all too much. His spend cock sits between his folded legs, pathetically weeping out the last few drops of cum.

Pulling out of his gaping hole, Soap whimpers at the lost. You turn to your side tired and finally able to sleep. Your eyes feel like lead and your cock aches.

"Ask again and I'm sending you downstairs with a dildo and I'm locking the door."

With that Soap finally stills for the next, eyes closing as he pulls you close.

This was sitting in my drafts idk if it's any good, I didn't proofread it🤷‍♂️

[amyzworldds]

heyy idk if requests are open but if they are can i request a wonwoo x reader where reader is super extroverted and hyper and kinda « adopts » wonwoo cause she wants them to be friends, but wonwoo being shy it takes him a while to be more open with her

i was just thinking about like maybe just some scenarios showing how the friendship (and eventual) relationship between them grows

btw can i be 🪼 anon? :)

Title: From Classmates to Soulmates

Masterlist | Part 2

Y/N, a vibrant solo artist, and Wonwoo, the reserved Seventeen member, share a bond that blossoms from high school friendship into something deeper. Her chaotic energy clashes with his quiet nature, but their connection—full of teasing, cat photos, and unspoken sparks—grows through years of laughter and challenges, proving opposites can be inseparable. Pairing: Wonwoo x reader Genre: Fluff

The fluorescent lights of Class 2-B flickered slightly, casting a soft glow over rows of desks. It was 2012, and Y/N, a new transfer student, plopped down into the only empty seat in the classroom—right next to Jeon Wonwoo, a lanky boy with glasses who was trying very hard to disappear into his textbook. She was a whirlwind of energy, her backpack covered in colorful pins, her hair tied with a bright scrunchie. He was... well, the human equivalent of a library’s quiet section.

“Hi! I’m Y/N! You’re my seatmate, right? Oh my gosh, this school is so big, I got lost twice already. Did you know the cafeteria has, like, three kinds of kimchi? Three!”

Wonwoo blinked, his pencil frozen mid-sentence. He glanced at her, then back at his book, hoping silence would make her stop. It didn’t.

“What’s your name? Wait, lemme guess... Minho? No, too common. Seokjin? Nah, you don’t look like a Seokjin. Oh! Are you a Wonwoo? That’s such a cool name!”

He sighed, adjusting his glasses. “...It’s Wonwoo.”

“I KNEW IT!” Y/N clapped, earning a few curious glances from classmates. “We’re gonna be best friends, Wonwoo. I can feel it. Do you like cats? Dogs? Both? I have a goldfish named Bubbles, but I’m thinking of getting a hamster. What do you think?”

“I think you should stop talking before we get in trouble,” he muttered, flipping a page he hadn’t read.

Too late. Their homeroom teacher, Mrs. Kim, spun around from the chalkboard. “Y/N! Wonwoo! If you two have so much to discuss, you can do it while cleaning the classroom after school!”

Wonwoo’s jaw tightened as he shot Y/N a side-eye. She just grinned sheepishly. “Oops. Sorry, Wonwoo. I’ll make it up to you! I’ll bring snacks!”

He didn’t respond, but his ears were slightly pink. Great. Day one, and I’m already in trouble because of her.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Over the next few weeks, Y/N became Wonwoo’s personal tornado. She talked during class, doodled on the edges of his notes (he pretended to hate the little hearts and stars), and dragged him into her chaotic orbit. He was quiet, reserved, the kid who’d rather read manga in the corner than join a group. She was the opposite—a social butterfly who befriended everyone from the janitor to the school’s stray cat (which she named Captain Whiskers).

One rainy afternoon, they were stuck cleaning the classroom again—third time that month, thanks to Y/N’s chatter. Wonwoo was wiping down desks while Y/N balanced a broom like a tightrope walker.

“Wonwoo, look! I’m a circus star!” She wobbled, nearly knocking over a chair.

He caught it just in time, glaring. “Can you focus for five seconds? I’d like to go home before we’re seniors.”

“Pfft, you’re no fun.” She hopped down, twirling the broom. “But you secretly love this. Admit it. I make your boring life exciting.”

“You make my life a headache,” he deadpanned, but there was a tiny quirk to his lips. She noticed and gasped dramatically.

“Was that a smile? Jeon Wonwoo, are you warming up to me?”

“No.” He turned away, scrubbing a desk harder than necessary.

But she was right. Slowly, Wonwoo got used to her. She’d ramble about her trainee life at Pledis, her dreams of being a solo artist, her obsession with bubble tea. He’d listen, nodding or throwing in a dry comment that made her laugh. They were opposites—her loud chaos to his quiet calm—but somehow, it worked.

--------------------------------------------------------------

One day, during lunch, Y/N spotted Captain Whiskers outside the school gate, looking scruffier than usual. Her eyes welled up instantly.

“Wonwoo, look at him! He’s so skinny! We have to take him home!” She clutched his sleeve, tears streaming.

He froze, her hands gripping his arm like a koala. “Y/N, you can’t just adopt every stray you see. Your dorm will turn into a petting zoo.”

“But he’s lonely!” she wailed, burying her face in his shoulder. “What if he gets cold tonight? What if he’s hungry? Wonwoo, I can’t leave him!”

He sighed, patting her head awkwardly. “Stop crying. You’re getting my shirt wet.”

“You’re so mean,” she mumbled, voice muffled. “But you’ll help me, right? Pleeeease?”

He glanced at the scrawny cat, then back at her tear-streaked face. “Fine. But we’re not keeping him. We’ll find him a shelter.”

“You’re the best!” She hugged him tightly, and he stood there like a statue, cheeks flushing. “I’m naming him Wonwoo Junior!”

“Absolutely not.”

They spent the afternoon sneaking Captain Whiskers into the trainee dorms, only for Y/N to cry again when they handed him to a shelter. Wonwoo bought her ice cream to stop the waterworks, muttering about how she was “impossible.” She just grinned, linking her arm with his.

“You love me, admit it.”

“Keep dreaming.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

By their final year of high school, they were inseparable. Y/N was still a chatterbox, but Wonwoo didn’t mind as much. He’d even started talking more—well, for him. When Seventeen debuted in 2015, Y/N was their biggest cheerleader, sneaking into their practice room with snacks and hyping them up. Wonwoo pretended to be annoyed, but he always saved her a spot next to him.

“You’re gonna be famous, Wonwoo! I’m telling everyone I’m your best friend,” she’d say, stealing his water bottle.

“You’re gonna get me in trouble,” he’d reply, but he’d let her keep the bottle.

When Y/N debuted as a solo artist in 2017, Wonwoo was there, quietly cheering from the crowd. She spotted him and nearly tripped on stage, waving like a maniac. Backstage, she tackled him in a hug.

“You came! I knew you would! Did you see my high note? Was I cool?”

“You were loud,” he teased, but his eyes were soft. “You did good.”

“That’s high praise from Jeon Wonwoo!” She poked his cheek. “One day, I’m gonna write a song about you.”

“Please don’t.”

She laughed, and he couldn’t help but smile. Somewhere along the way, her chaos had become his comfort. Her clinginess didn’t bother him anymore—it felt... nice. And when she grabbed his hand to drag him to her favorite café, he didn’t pull away.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Wonwoo, now a full-fledged idol, was busier than ever, his introverted self buried under choreography and mic checks. But no amount of chaos could keep Y/N away.

The practice room smelled of sweat and determination, mirrors fogging up as Seventeen ran through their routine for the tenth time. Y/N sat cross-legged on the floor, her backpack stuffed with snacks, watching with wide eyes. She clapped wildly after every run-through, even when the members stumbled.

“You guys are AMAZING!” she shouted, bouncing to her feet as the music stopped. “Hoshi, that spin? Iconic. Seungkwan, your vocals? I’m deceased. And Wonwoo, you’re... you’re just so cool!”

Wonwoo, catching his breath, shot her a look—half-exasperated, half-amused. “Can you lower your volume? I’m trying to focus.”

“Focus? You just nailed that part! Take the compliment, Jeon!” She skipped over, holding out a water bottle and a small towel like she was his personal assistant.

Mingyu, wiping his face, smirked. “Y/N, what’s this? Are you Wonwoo’s babysitter now?”

“Or his manager?” DK chimed in, grinning. “You’ve been here every day this week.”

Y/N stuck out her tongue. “I’m his cheerleader, thank you very much. Someone’s gotta keep his grumpy self hydrated.”

Wonwoo took the bottle, muttering, “I can get my own water.” But he didn’t push the towel away when she dabbed at his forehead, earning a chorus of “ooohs” from the members.

“Y/N, you’re spoiling him,” Vernon teased, leaning on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “He’s gonna expect this treatment forever.”

“Good!” she declared, plopping down beside Wonwoo. “He deserves it. Right, Wonwoo?”

He just sighed, sipping his water, but his ears were pink—a detail not lost on Jeonghan, who whispered to Joshua, “Ten bucks says they’re dating by next year.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s visits became a ritual. She’d barge into the practice room with convenience store kimbap or sneak in bubble tea, chattering nonstop while Wonwoo listened (or pretended not to). Sometimes, she’d join their breaks, challenging Hoshi to impromptu dance-offs or roping Seungkwan into karaoke battles. Her chaos lit up the room, and even Wonwoo’s quiet presence seemed brighter with her around.

One evening, after a particularly grueling practice, the members sprawled across the floor, exhausted. Y/N, somehow still buzzing with energy, started a game of truth or dare. When it was her turn, she picked dare and ended up doing a dramatic reenactment of Mingyu’s part in Adore U, complete with exaggerated winks.

The room erupted in laughter, but Wonwoo just watched, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Man, Y/N, you’re so loud,” Woozi said, rubbing his temples. “How does Wonwoo deal with you? You’re like... a human firecracker, and he’s—”

“A library book?” Seungcheol offered, smirking.

“Exactly!” Woozi laughed. “Seriously, Wonwoo, how’d you two even become friends?”

Wonwoo shrugged, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. “She talked. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Rude!” Y/N gasped, tossing a crumpled napkin at him. “You love my talking. Remember when I saved you from that boring history project? I did all the presenting!”

“You got us a C because you kept going off-script,” he deadpanned.

“But it was fun, right?” She grinned, nudging his shoulder. He didn’t answer, but his smile said enough.

The members exchanged glances. Dino whispered to Vernon, “Are they... always like this?”

“Yup,” Vernon whispered back. “It’s like watching a rom-com, but they’re too dumb to notice.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Fast forward to 2017. Y/N’s solo debut was finally here, her single Starlight climbing the charts. The room was a flurry of stylists and nerves, but Y/N was her usual self—chatting with everyone, fixing her mic pack, and sneaking candy from the snack table. In the crowd, Wonwoo stood near the back, blending in with a cap pulled low. He didn’t cheer like her loudest fans, but his eyes never left the stage.

When she hit her final note, the venue roared. Y/N scanned the crowd, spotted him, and nearly fumbled her wave, grinning like an idiot. Backstage, she tackled him in a hug before he could escape.

“You came! I knew you would!” she squealed, arms locked around him. “Did you hear the crowd? Did I slay that high note?”

“You were loud,” he said, but his voice was soft, proud. “You did good.”

“Good? That’s it?” She poked his chest. “Jeon Wonwoo, I need excellent. Phenomenal. I’m a star now!”

“You’re a headache,” he corrected, but he didn’t pull away, letting her cling as long as she wanted.

Fans had noticed their closeness over the years—clips of Y/N at Seventeen’s events, Wonwoo at her debut, their playful banter in old vlogs. Online, they were “the ultimate besties,” with fans gushing over their friendship. But to those who knew them, it was... different.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Later that night, at a small celebratory dinner with Seventeen and Y/N’s team, the teasing hit full force. Y/N was recounting her stage mishap—nearly tripping on a cable—when Mingyu leaned over.

“Wonwoo, be honest,” he said, smirking. “You were ready to run onstage and catch her, weren’t you?”

Wonwoo choked on his soda. “What? No.”

“Liar!” DK laughed. “You were staring at her like she hung the moon.”

Y/N, mid-bite of tteokbokki, waved it off. “He’s just supportive! That’s what friends do, right, Wonwoo?”

“Right,” he mumbled, eyes on his plate. But his hand brushed hers under the table when he passed her a napkin, and she didn’t move away. Neither did he.

Jeonghan, ever the instigator, leaned back. “Friends, huh? You two act like you’re married half the time. When’s the wedding?”

The table erupted, and Y/N laughed, loud and forced. “Pfft, me and Wonwoo? That’s like pairing a cat with a tornado!”

“You’re not wrong,” Wonwoo said dryly, earning a playful smack on his arm.

But later, when they walked to the convenience store for ice cream, the air felt heavier. Y/N rambled about her next single, but her usual energy was tinged with something else. Wonwoo was quieter than usual, hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hey, Wonwoo,” she said suddenly, stopping under a streetlight. “We’re good, right? Like... this—” She gestured between them. “It’s fine?”

He looked at her, heart thudding. The spark had been there for years—her hugs that lingered, his glances she pretended not to notice. But saying it out loud? That risked everything.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “We’re good.”

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Cool. Besties forever, then.”

“Forever,” he echoed, ignoring the ache in his chest. They bought their ice cream, and she linked arms with him on the walk back, chattering again. He listened, like always, because her chaos was still his favorite sound—even if he wasn’t ready to admit what else he felt.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Years have passedpast and the spark between Y/N and Wonwoo wasn’t just a flicker anymore—it was a flame neither could ignore. For Y/N, it was the way her heart raced when he smiled at her dumb jokes, or how she caught herself staring when he adjusted his glasses during late-night chats. For Wonwoo, it was the warmth of her presence, the way her chaos made his world feel... complete. But admitting it? That was a wall neither dared climb.

Y/N, ever the overthinker, convinced herself it was just their history talking. We’ve been friends since high school. Of course I feel weirdly attached. It’s not... that. She’d lie awake, replaying moments—her tackling him in hugs, him brushing hair from her face during her debut jitters. It’s normal. Totally normal. But the more she thought about it, the more she panicked. What if she confessed and he didn’t feel the same? What if it broke them? Wonwoo was her safe space, the one person she could be her loud, clingy, unfiltered self with. Losing him wasn’t an option.

So, she did the only thing she could think of: she pulled back.

--------------------------------------------------------------

It started small. No more facetime calls at 2 am to ramble about her day. No more spamming him with photos of stray cats or glittery coffee drinks she found on the street. No more bursting into Seventeen’s practice room with snacks and her trademark grin. When she did visit, she kept it brief, chatting with everyone instead of hovering around Wonwoo like before.

One afternoon, in the Pledis practice room, Y/N dropped by with a bag of tangerines—her excuse for showing up. Seventeen was mid-break, sprawled across the floor, sweaty and joking.

“Y/N! You’re alive!” Hoshi called, snatching a tangerine. “We thought you forgot us.”

“Pfft, never,” she laughed, tossing one to Seungkwan. “Just been busy. Soloist life, you know?”

Wonwoo, leaning against the mirror, watched her. She was her usual bright self, but something was off. She hadn’t looked at him once. No towel, no water bottle, no teasing jab about his dance moves. Just... distance.

“You staying for practice?” Mingyu asked, peeling his tangerine.

“Nah, gotta run,” she said, already inching toward the door. “Got a variety show taping soon. See you guys later!”

She waved, and just like that, she was gone. Wonwoo stared at the door, his chest tight. Seungcheol nudged Jeonghan, whispering, “She didn’t even talk to him.”“Yup,” Jeonghan murmured back. “Trouble in paradise.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s new distraction was a variety show, Star Buddies, where idols teamed up for goofy challenges. She’d been cast alongside NCT’s Jaehyun, a guy with a warm smile and an easy laugh. He was kind, talented, and stupidly charming—someone anyone would click with. They bonded over shared snacks and her endless chatter, and soon, they were texting about dog memes and grabbing coffee between shoots.

“Jaehyun, look at this puppy!” Y/N squealed one day, showing him her phone during a break. “Should I adopt him?”

“You’d adopt the whole shelter if you could,” Jaehyun teased, chuckling. “But yeah, he’s cute. Go for it.”

She grinned, but her mind wandered to Wonwoo—how he’d roll his eyes and mutter about her turning her dorm into a zoo. She shook it off, typing a reply to Jaehyun instead. He’s nice. Fun. Safe. No butterflies, no panic. Just... normal.

But Wonwoo? He noticed everything. Her Instagram stories with Jaehyun—laughing over ice cream, posing with silly props on set. Her texts slowed to a trickle, her visits even rarer. He’d scroll through her posts, jaw tight, telling himself it was fine. She’s busy. She’s allowed to have other friends. But the sight of Jaehyun’s name in her stories twisted something in his gut.

One night, during a late dinner with the members, Mingyu brought it up. “Yo, Wonwoo, you seen Y/N’s stories? She’s hanging out with that NCT guy a lot. Jaehyun, right?”

Wonwoo’s chopsticks paused mid-air. “Yeah. So?”

“Just saying,” Mingyu grinned, oblivious to the tension. “They look cozy.”

“They’re on a show together,” Wonwoo said flatly, shoving rice in his mouth. “It’s work.”

DK raised an eyebrow. “Sure, but she’s not blowing up your phone anymore, is she? When’s the last time she crashed practice?”

Wonwoo didn’t answer, and the table went quiet. Woozi, ever blunt, sighed. “You two are idiots. Just talk to her before she actually moves on.”“There’s nothing to talk about,” Wonwoo muttered, but his voice lacked conviction.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N wasn’t blind. She felt the shift too—how Wonwoo’s replies were shorter, how he didn’t tease her back like he used to. It hurt, but she told herself it was for the best. If I keep my distance, these feelings will fade. We’ll go back to normal. But normal without Wonwoo felt like a song missing its melody.

One evening, after a Star Buddies taping, she and Jaehyun grabbed dinner at a quiet café. He was telling a story about Taeyong’s latest cooking disaster, and she laughed, but her heart wasn’t in it.

“You okay?” Jaehyun asked, tilting his head. “You seem... distracted.”

“Oh, nah, I’m good!” she lied, stirring her iced tea. “Just tired. Long day.”

He nodded, not pushing. “Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m here. You’re fun to hang out with, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Jaehyun. You’re pretty cool too.” She smiled, but her mind screamed Wonwoo. Always Wonwoo.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, Seventeen’s dorm was abuzz with their latest comeback prep, but the members couldn’t ignore Wonwoo’s mood. He was quieter than usual—no small feat for him. During a break, Vernon caught him staring at his phone, Y/N’s latest story paused on a clip of her and Jaehyun high-fiving.

“Dude, just call her,” Vernon said, tossing him a water bottle. “You’re miserable.”

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo said, pocketing his phone.

“You’re not,” Seungkwan cut in, arms crossed. “And neither is she. We’ve known you guys forever. You think we can’t tell you’re both acting weird?”

Wonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “What am I supposed to do? Stop her from living her life? She’s... she’s Y/N. She makes friends with everyone.”

“Yeah, but she’s not this with everyone,” Jeonghan said, leaning over. “She’s only ever been that clingy, that loud, that Y/N with you. And now she’s pulling away. You really think it’s because she’s over you?”

Wonwoo didn’t answer, but Jeonghan’s words stuck. He saw it—her forced smiles when she did visit, the way she avoided his gaze. He felt it—the emptiness where her chaos used to be. And Jaehyun? That was just salt in the wound.

--------------------------------------------------------------

A week later, Y/N was at a pet store, snapping a pic of a fluffy puppy to send to Jaehyun. Her finger hovered over Wonwoo’s name instead. She missed him—his dry humor, his steady presence, the way he’d roll his eyes but still listen to her ramble. This is dumb. I’m making it worse. She pocketed her phone, heart heavy.

Across town, Wonwoo sat in the studio, lyrics open but untouched. His phone buzzed—a group chat notification, not her. He opened their old messages, scrolling through her silly cat pics and voice notes. She’s slipping away, and I’m just... letting her.

“Hyung,” Dino said, poking his head in. “You good? You’ve been staring at that screen for, like, an hour.”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo lied, closing his phone. “Just thinking.”

But he wasn’t just thinking. He was realizing that losing her noise—her light—hurt more than admitting how he felt ever could.

--------------------------------------------------------------

an: Hi, 🪼anon ! Sorry this is late—I got busy with my integration paper, hehe. And sure, you can be 🪼 anon hehe! Also, I hope I got your request right, huhu. Btw, thank you for requesting! I think this is the very first request not connected to the 14th member HAHAHHA!

[radawaycunt]

Hiiii I see u are taking request for Lucius Verus x reader.

I was thinking something like at the end when he becomes emperor he will need a new wife…👀 but he doesn't want a new wife so he tries to delay the choice, but then he meets the reader (us) and we can be whatever u like, I was thinking about like a slave or something idk.

Sorry if my English isn’t right !!

Hell yes I can write this for you ❤️❤️❤️ thanks for requesting!!

————-

“But Imperator—”

“But nothing,” Lucius interrupted, holding up a hand. “I have already made my decision.”

Ravi clicked his tongue in disapproval, lowering his voice. “It is no use being so stubborn, my friend.”

Lucius huffed, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “It is not without reason.”

“I know that, but that was another life, and her memory has carried you this far,” Ravi said, his tone tactful. “She would not want you to not have heirs to carry out your legacy.”

Lucius thought about it for a moment. He had fought so hard to get to where he was, staying alive despite the pain of his losses. Now that he was Caesar of Rome, he couldn’t let all his efforts go to waste and hand down the crown to just anyone. Especially knowing how easy it was for someone like Macrinus to try to seize control.

“I would be… open to having a meeting,” he began, but when Ravi’s face lit up, he lifted a hand again. “But that is no promise that things will progress beyond it.”

“Good enough for me,” Ravi said, clapping him on the shoulder. “I know someone, a widower, just like you. She was one of my patients, in the past.”

“I leave it in your hands, then. Bring her for dinner.”

—————

Lucius had no expectations about meeting you. In truth, a part of him had been dreading it, not knowing how he was going to act.

But when he saw you at the atrium with Ravi, he stopped in his steps. Ravi introduced you and you curtsied, daintily holding out your hand so you may kiss his ring.

Lucius blinked at you, unaware he was staring until Ravi cleared his throat. Reacting, he gave you his hand and you bent your head to kiss it.

When you straightened, you shared a slightly amused look with Ravi, biting down a chuckle.

“It is a great honor to meet you, Imperator Lucius,” you said. “Thank you for allowing me into your home.”

“The honor is mine,” he said, inclining his head and smiling a little. “Please, come sit. Would you like wine? Something to snack on?”

“Well, I cannot very well decline anything our gracious host offers, can I, Ravi?” You said, following both of them to the triclinium.

“But of course, Lady,” Ravi said.

Lucius offered his hand to help you onto the lectus, a couch where you could recline while dining. You took it, holding the skirts of your dress as you sat. He took the one across from you and Ravi sat on the one between both of yours.

Lucius shared a look with Ravi, who raised an eyebrow. Stubborn, he pursed his lips, but one of the corners still lifted in a small smile. It was then that Ravi knew he had done a good job.

“So, I should like you to tell me about you,” Lucius said, leaning forward eagerly.

“What would you like to know?” You asked, taking a sip of wine and hoping your face wasn’t too flushed from his attention.

“Everything,” he said. “If that is not too much for a first meeting.”

You laughed and he realized he wouldn’t mind listening to it echoing through the halls of the palace more often.

“Let us make a bargain, then, if it is not too presumptuous of me,” you said. “If by sunrise you are not satisfied with all I have shared, then perhaps we may reconvene for another meal.”

He didn’t even have to think about it twice. “I’ll take that bargain, though I suspect your coming back won’t be from lack of satisfaction.”

————