#its the instant pause that makes it when he realizes it

[chithereader]

losing my cool / aaron hotchner

part 2 to playing it cool !!! hope you like it word count: 1.6k pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader genre: angst at first, but fluff!!!!!! cw: more sickeningly sweet and soft aaron x reader, mentions of insecurities

The smile on Aaron’s face slowly fades as he takes in your frozen stance. You’re staring at him like he just shot you in the back and worry starts to fill him, “Honey..?” waving his hand in front of your face, hoping it would be enough to break you out of your stupor. 

 “Hello?” Still waving his hand in your face, your eyes darted to his. Your body is in a state of shock– in your mind, there’s a tiny version of you desperately digging her way out of a landslide of disbelief. Waves and waves of doubts and insecurities hindering you from processing what is happening. 

Aaron watches as your mouth moves with barely any sound coming out. Like a fish out of water, you’re scrambling, “W-what?” That’s… a bit too shaky to be good. 

He pauses to think. The doubts are starting to creep up on him. 

Maybe he was too rash with his question. 

Maybe that wasn’t the best way to spring it on you. 

Maybe he should have waited for a better time.

Maybe he should have planned something. 

Maybe she isn’t ready.

Maybe she just doesn’t want to marry me. 

He tries hard to swallow all these dark thoughts, clearing his throat to fake the confidence that’s slowly diminishing, “I said, ‘Marry me.’” After he says those words again he stills, hoping that this time he’ll get an answer. And that.. it would be the answer he so badly wants. 

But time slows down and his heart soon follows as he watches tears start to pool in your eyes. You’re shaking your head– they’re tiny shakes and you look panicked. This isn’t good. Not good at all. 

He really wasn’t expecting this. It never occurred to him you’d say no. Or ..not yes. Aaron’s mind is running a million miles per hour. He doesn’t know what to do, or say. He barely even knows how he feels. And so he defaults to doing the one thing he does best (as a prosecutor at least): object. 

This is triggered by your movement. You move around him, leaving the kitchen towards your living room. Your goal was to sit on the couch, craving some stability as your legs get weaker the more you’re processing what was asked, how you reacted, and how it could be coming across. 

But Aaron’s legs are longer than yours. Before you even reach the couch, he’s holding your arm firmly and gently at the same time. He’s got that furrow in his brows that makes him look stern, but his eyes betray him as you can clearly see the worry in them. 

“Well yes!” he says in disagreement. He doesn’t understand why you haven’t said yes, and as much as he isn’t the kind of man to ever force a lady into anything, a part of him is scared of what he’ll hear if he asks you why you’re not saying yes. 

Though instead of allowing that fear to paralyze him, he allows it to control him. To bear its face because the softer, more rational part of him is hiding. 

You’re avoiding his gaze, crossing your arms– you’re turning away from him. “No- Aaron, you– I don– I ca–” 

You know he’s studying you. You can feel his eyes roaming your face, your neck, your body. He’s taking in everything he can because you’ve given him absolutely nothing so far. And oh how you wish you could voice it all out. 

You just wish it was easy to say I don’t think I’m enough for you. What if you realize one day that I’m not good enough? Are you sure? Are you sure about this? About me? What if you start to want someone smarter? Prettier? Hotter? What if you want someone who is as accomplished or important as you? What if you get bored of me? What if– 

You’re broken out of your thoughts when he suddenly straightens. He looks as if he’s realized something and the next thing you know you’re hit by a gust of wind because he’s running up the stairs. 

Within an instant you run after him. A dozen scenarios are running through your head, the worst being Aaron packing your things because he’s going to ask you to leave. Your heart beats faster as you reach the top of the steps. You peek into your room and see him rummaging through drawers. 

Your worries quiet significantly when you realize they’re his drawers. And just when you’re about to approach him, he turns around meeting you halfway. You’re both illuminated by the sunlight that’s coming through the bedroom window you’re standing in front of. 

He’s still. He’s got a serious look on his face. You take him in, trying to read him but he’s got his profiler look on– unreadable and determined. His voice rattles you, “I’m sorry. That was a mistake.” Firm and devoid of any emotion. 

Oh god.

You’re shaking your head, reaching to hold him by his arms. You start to cry, “Aaron please, that’s not what I–” but… he’s going down on one knee. 

What?

He watched multiple emotions flicker on your face. Defeat, panic, confusion– “It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have said that. I– I planned to do it better than that. I don’t know why I let it slip out, you deserve better than that.” 

Before you can process it, Aaron’s holding out a ring. He’s holding your hand in the other while tears are streaming down both your faces. You have no idea how you heard it but you guess it’s simply a testament to how attuned you are to him when he whispers, “Please, please, please. Will you marry me, honey?” 

Time stops. Literally. You can feel your heart in your chest beating louder, heavier. It’s pounding as if begging to be heard. Begging to let Aaron know that it beats for him and him only. You’re lowering yourself to kneel before him. You want to see his face properly. His eyes. His nose. His lips. This is the man you love. This is the man you want to marry. Your eyes are simply capturing every angle of this moment. 

You’re leveled now. Equals. You grab both his hands in yours and you stare into his brown eyes. You want him to know you mean it, as you nod your head slowly and breathe out, “Yes.” A smile breaks across his face, tears starting to stream again. 

You watch him as he tries to put the ring on your finger, getting it on the first try even if his sight is slightly hindered by his tears of happiness and relief. The sun makes the ring sparkle, catching your attention and you look at it properly for the first time. 

It’s beautiful. Aaron would argue that the stone screams you – grace, loyalty, peace. He catches your eye and the both of you start to smile. You start to giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck while his arms snake around your waist. 

He buries his head in your neck, breathing in your scent while silently thanking the heavens for granting him this. You break apart, startled to hear tiny footsteps nearing. The both of you start to stand up from the floor, straightening yourselves out and wiping the remaining tears staining your faces. 

You both look to the door, waiting for the little boy to show himself. You hear a soft knock right before the door opens slowly, a head peeking in, “Daddy?” 

Aaron goes to the door, opening it more for Jack to come in. The little boy goes straight to you and you pick him up in your arms with ease, resting him on your hip. You have your left hand holding him stable, and even though the little boy’s still groggy with sleep he notices the sparkling addition to your hand. 

You take notice of how his little face lights up in excitement and you have no idea what about it he understands, “I help Daddy buy you that!” His voice is full of pride, genuinely proud that he had played a part in picking. 

You’re confused, not fully understanding what Jack means. Looking to Aaron for an answer, you’re surprised to find him blushing. He looks shy and he’s shrugging at you but you can tell he’s trying hard to play it cool. The smile fighting its way on his face betrays him. 

You decide to take your chance on the adorable kid that is now fiddling with your ring, watching in amazement at how much it’s twinkling in the light. Children are the most honest people you know anyway. Pursing your lips with squinted eyes, you investigate “What do you mean, bubba?” 

“Daddy asked me what ring pop you want, so I asked you when we watched Spiderman and you said your favorite is the green one so I tell Daddy you want the green one!” 

Your heart stutters and the tears start coming in again. Aaron asking Jack for his opinion for your engagement ring. Jack thinking it's a ring pop. Jack asking for your favorite ring pop flavor. Jack being proud that you got the ring you want, pop or not. 

Brought out of your thoughts by Jack wanting to leave your hold, you put him down. You watch as he happily walks out of your room, presumably to go to the kitchen. You look at Aaron again, and just as you’re about to say something about what you just found out, you realize one thing. Spiderman.

You gasp. Covering your mouth in surprise, you slap his arm lightly, “That was our third date!”

Aaron laughs loudly, rushing out of the room before you can throw questions at him or even comments about how insane he is. He couldn’t care less. He was right. 

a/n: just want to say thank you so much for the love and support i've been getting for my hotch fics!! as someone who's new here, it all means so much to me <33 i recently made a masterlist as i plan to write so much more and branch out to other characters i've been perpetually in love with!! leave requests of what you want to read or characters i can write about, i'd love to write for you guys ◡̈ tagging the people who wanted a part 2 for this: @pear-1206 @dedicatedfangirl2001 u guys are so sweet

[handfulofmuses]

Megavolt: OH GOD I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT YOU. GET OVER HERE. *QUICKLY WRAPS ARM AROUND HIM*

[tbaluver]

Hi! Wanted to ask if you could maybe do if L&DS men are cat hybrids and went into heat.

love your work

The Love And DeepSpace Men As Cat Hybrids In Heat

parings in order: Cat Hybrid!Xavier x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Zayne x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Rafayel x Reader, Cat Hybrid!Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, breeding kink, fingering, p in v, sylus receiving head a/n: hihi anonnie! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ im soso sorry this took so long i hope this doesn't disappoint and if it does just pretend it simply doesn't exist ! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) i was suppose to have this posted around kinktober but i got busy with exams so i barely just got back to it after the new banner trailer came out! thank you for loving my works and i hope you enjoy reading luv ! (∩˃o˂∩)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier /ᐠ˵- ᴗ -˵マ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 :

you couldn’t help but stir in the sheets as your backside was pressed firmly against Xavier as he pulled you in closer. his head rested in the crook of your neck, running small kitten licks on it. sleep still clouded your mind and it took you a few seconds to realize his bulge was pressing against the plush of your ass.

“it-it hurts....” he lets out a whine. his eyes were half-lidded while his ears were drooped helplessly. he didn’t mean to wake you and never wanted to trouble you but the ache coursed through his lower half was unbearable. he couldn’t help it but he needed you more than ever.

“please can you make it better for me, honey?” he asked desperately as you hummed in response. the plump of his lips against your neck caused goosebumps causing you to arch your back enough to grind against him.

he softly grunts into the shell of your ear when you grind your lower half to grind against his clothed erection. his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, finding the curve of your breasts. his hands kneading them desperately while his fingers circle one of your nipples.

you catch your breath as his fingers looped around the waistband of your panties. little gasps of pleasure manage to escape your lips as his hands find their way to play with your clit. his fingers pressed against your entrance, teasing it slightly as if it begged for him. you let out a moan, your back arching your back more as he pushes a second finger in as he shallowly dips his fingers between your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips.

“so wet..need to be inside you.” he lets out a low growl, withdrawing his slick-coated fingers from your cunt that earns a whine from you. he quickly removes his boxers, desperate to free his cock from its constriction. in an instant, his hands find their way back to you, placing his hands on the back of your thighs.

without any words, his hands gently guided your thigh upwards. his mind was in a haze, consumed by nothing but thoughts of you- of being inside of you and filling you up full of nothing but him only.

xavier rocks his hips forward, slipping his cock between your lower lips. his hand squeezes your thigh firmly as he teases your entrance. “you’re so soft...so warm.” he lets out a breathy moan as his hair and the soft fur on his ear gently brush against your skin as he watches you slowly take him in. he carefully slowly buries himself inside of you, making sure to pause and let you get used to the sudden girth.

you whimper when he sets a steady pace, his hand moves to your hips to help him. “pretty...” xavier lowly murmurs into your ear, “gonna give you a whole litter,” he stammers out, his words faltering as one of his ears perked up while the other stayed drooped. his eyes were half-lidded and his tone completely shifted with the idea of you being the mother to his future litter.

his pace quickens, his movements are now rougher. his cock hitting so deep inside of you with every thrust as his name continues to slip out of your lips, motivating him further. his left hand rested on your stomach while his right hand found their way back to your breasts, kneading them desperately and pinching it gently with his thumb and index finger.

both of you fill the room with strings of curses and each other’s names as you meet the blinding heat of your climax washing over you both. his hips thrust into you one last time, digging his hands into your hips as he spills his seed into you, filling you whole until it drips to your inner thigh.

you both catch your breath, breathing heavily as he presses his forehead against the back of your shoulder. “thank you..’m sorry for waking you,” he murmurs softly, his fingers drawing circles on your hip.

you gently lift his hand from your hip, pressing a quick kiss to his palm. “t’s alright xavier,” you reassure him.

you feel him shift behind you as he positions himself on top of you and for you to lie on your back. your eyes widened seeing his cock still hard and shimmering in your slick.

“we’re not finished yet.”

Zayne /ᐠ - ˕ -マ :

you couldn’t help but notice the subtle discomfort of your boyfriend. he unusually fidgeted in his seat, shifting his position every few minutes. sometimes he’d get up, only to return to the same spot, often followed by a sigh or a low groan. it was clear to you that something was bothering him.

“is everything alright?” you asked. he didn’t even look up, his gaze remained fixed on the pages in front of him. he’s staring at the pages but he’s not reading the words.

“i’m fine,” but you knew him too well, especially in the condition he was in right now. the way his tail swayed and how his ears flicked from the sound of you gave it away.

you set your book aside, moving in front of him. you gently closed the book he was holding and removed it from his hands. without waiting for a response, you settled yourself in his lap, positioning yourself so you could face him.

“c’mon tell me what’s wrong zayne,” you said softly, trying your best to ease any of his tension. you reached up, gently scratching behind his ears, careful not to press too hard, knowing how sensitive he was. he winced, making you flinch slightly and you immediately lifted your hand, ready to apologize.

but instead of pulling you away, his palm met the back of your hand, guiding it back down to rest on the side of his cheek. he nuzzled into your touch, a deep sigh escaping his lips as he inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet scent of your skin. his hazel green eyes lock onto yours as he presses his lips to your wrist, giving it a teasing but yet gentle bite.

“your scent.. it’s driving me mad..” he lets out a low groan, giving your hand a small lick over the bite. 

“will you help me make it better my love?” his eyes looked needy and desperate, you couldn’t say no.

you let him move his hand down over your thighs between your legs. the cool touch of his fingers grazed over your thin fabric of your panties, adding that attention that you wanted to your body.

he was quick to help you discard your top, letting him have your breasts displayed in front of him in all his glory. whimpers escape your lips as you feel the warm and wetness of his tongue lapping at the sensitive bud that made wet arousal stream out of you. you could almost feel the wetness seeping from you.

he couldn’t ignore his painfully erect cock in the restraint of his pants. he helps you remove your panties down, lifting your hips and leg off to fully slip them off.

“please, i need you,” he pleads, grabbing the side of your ass and desperately rocks his hips up at you.

“i can never say no to you,” you purr, helping him remove his pants and letting them pool at his legs. his cock springs free, slapping against his stomach. he grunts out softly, his hands gripping onto your thighs, squeezing the flesh.

you take his length in your hands, attempting to line him up with your entrance. you rub his tip through your folds, letting him appreciate the presence of your wet folds before you sink down slowly on his cock, a broken whine escaping your lips.

zayne’s head falls against the back of the couch, eyes fluttering shut at the bliss of being inside you. the sensation of having your warm, wet cunt wrapped around his cock gave him the remedy he needed. and he needed more. 

it’s making him lose his composure and letting him kick into the animalistic instinct inside of him the longer you continue to make him feel so good.

his large hands begin to bounce you up and down his length, hungry to feel further inside of you. his pace is not usually this rough at the beginning but given the state he’s in, your priority was to make him feel better, too feel good.

you have to clutch his broad shoulders to stay in place, his thrusts setting your stomach in a blaze of ecstasy. he groans as he watches your face melt in pleasure and your tits bounce up and down, only making him want to fuck you harder.

“i-i can’t hold out that long love,” he pants, burying his face back into your breasts. you pull him in closer, your hands knotting into his hair as you bounce on his cock

you're having trouble keeping up everytime he slams you down into his lap. desperate, he pulls you in an open-mouthed kiss. It's sloppy and messy but yet passionate. you wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.

you could feel the coil in your stomach tightening to a dangerous extent, parting your lips as pleasure courses through your body. your walls flutter around him as he continues to pump in and out of your poor pussy, letting a low groan out of him.

he feels it, he feels his release coming but he doesn’t want it to end. waves of pleasure washes through him, his cock pumping his seed all into your hole. he watches it dribble down your leg which makes his ear twitch.

he doesn’t pull out, his dick growing back harder inside of you. he refuses to let his seed go to waste. he’ll continue and continue to fuck his cum back into you.

Rafayel ฅᨐฅ :

this was humiliating. his own body has betrayed him once again and turned him into this wretched creature he disliked the most. a cat.

he didn’t like one thing about being a cat, let alone being human-ish and a cat. the only thing he could appreciate this time was the ability to speak to you and tell you all the troubles he had. all of it, except for this.

the burning heat through his lower half of his body was unbearable, his mind and body fought each other as his body called for you.

he wanted you, needed you. but he didn’t want you to see him like this- not with his ears twitching in embarrassment or this annoying tail that betrayed his every move. he paced around in the bathroom, deciding to endure this unbearable urge to pass.

that was until a knock on the other side of the door snapped him from his thoughts. it was you.

“raf is everything okay in there? you’ve been in the bathroom for a while now..” you trailed off, your voice faint and muffled.

“i’m fine! you can go shoo!” but his own body betrayed him as moved toward the door despite what he said. his mind screamed at him to stop but his body pushed forward, yearning for you. his tail swayed, already longing for the sound of your voice. he didn’t want you to go.

he can hear you sigh from the other side of the door. “i know you hate being a cat again but let me help raf.”

it was quiet for a moment from his side of the door until the sound of the lock clicking opened. the door creaked slightly until you pushed it fully open, catching the sight of raf’s back.

“see everything is fineeee.” he says, not bothering to face you, his arms crossed over his chest. even from the back you can tell he’s probably pouting. but you can tell just from the tone of his voice that he’s lying.

you stepped closer, your hand brushing up his tail. his ears twitched while his tail perked up in an instant you touched him. “you-!” his breath hitched and the last shred of whatever control he had slipped away.

he pressed you against the door, his left hand cradling the back of your head to cushion the impact, while his right hand braces beside you, keeping you both in place.

he looks at you up and down, panting before pulling you closer and capturing your lips with urgency. his hand moves to your cheek while his thumb grazes softly.

“i can help raf,” you whisper against his lips, finally understanding the situation. your eyes flutter half closed, drawn to the soft movement of his lips and yours.

he whines softly as he pulls away, his ears drooping while his tail still sways. he didn’t give it a second thought before hoisting you up in his arms and placing you on the cold bathroom counter.

rafayel leans forward again, pressing his mouth to the column of your throat. his warm soft lips trailed your heated skins as his hands fell to your thighs. warm fingers, eager and urgent, explored your skin.

you lean back, pressing your head to the cool glass of the mirror, gripping his shoulder as he gives you small bites and licks over them. his hands snake up to make quick work on your shirt as you help him remove it.

“your scent,” he inhales deeply, his nose grazing against your skin. his cock twitched from the restraints of his pants as he pressed a kiss to the plush of your breast before nuzzling his face between them. “you’re soaked aren’t you?” 

he quickly slips off your panties to the side and presses his mouth the pulse point just beneath your ear as his fingers brush your clit. he groaned at the slick gathered on his fingers, not that surprised that you’re already dripping for him.

a small moan left your lips, your eyes rolling at the back of your head as he pushed his fingers into your entrance. the pleasure was short lived as he pulled away as he unbuckled his belt. his hard cock sprung free from the fabric, begging to be inside of you.

he positioned himself at your entrance, slowly pushing into your wet cunt, earning a loud moan as rafayel tries to fill you up. wet arousal streams out of you as you arch your back and cup one of your breasts, fingers flicking over your hardening nipples.

“soo wett..” he trembles, a whimpering mess he is. he continues to babble curses and praises, making your velvety walls flutter and tighten impossibly around him. a whine escapes him as he ears droop and his mouth partens.

he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming more merciless. he can’t blame you for the way your pussy wraps around his cock so perfectly. the image of your pretty pussy being so stuffed of him, nearly made him lose his mind

“gods..the way you’re taking me..” he pants out, “wanna breed you. gunna fill you up with soo much of my cum yea?”

your mind is clouded with a haze of lust, feeling his urgent need to feel you up. yeah it could be a litter but fuck it you can change his mind about cats later.

“give it to me raf, all of it,” you huff out between moans, as the pressure starts to bubble in your lower belly. clenching around his cock as his pace sped up, his hips slamming into your walls.

“‘m gonna give you all of it, fill you up so much,” he tightens his grip on your hip, using his free hand to spread you open further to see his cum leaking from your hole around his cock, driving him over the edge.

he blows his load and fills your cunt, rocking your hips with his. you met your high that shaked your entire body while your eyes rolled back and had your toes curling.

you both catch your breath as he still remains inside of you, still throbbing at the sight of you.

“you’re gunna make me wanna fuck another load inside of you.”

Sylus ≽^-˕-^≼ :

sylus 𓅨 sent you a voice message.

he lets out a low grunt in the beginning of the voice message. “sweetie..” he sighs deeply, desperation in his voice. “i don’t mean to trouble you but i’m afraid i need you urgently. please hurry home soon.”

he lets out a low groan as his half lidded eyes fall on you, followed by a chuckle. his crimson gaze locks onto you, his lips slightly parted as he strokes his cock a bit faster than before.

you were still frozen by the doorway to your shared bedroom as you admired the scene that played out in front of you. a surge of lust pulsed through you, a tingling sensation blossomed from your core and spread through  your legs.

he looked good like this. his black button up shirt hung open, revealing the sculpted lines of his abs. his belt undone and his pants pushed down enough to reveal his cock that he lazily stroked in his hand. his face slightly flushed as his mouth remained slightly parted as he let out small pants while his ears drooped low.

you locked the door behind you as you crawled onto the bed, settling yourself right in between his thighs. “enjoying the view?” he teases, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he raises a brow. “care to lend a hand sweetie?”

you let out a breathy chuckle, straightening up to lean in and kiss him. your hand instinctively moved to rub the back of his ears earning a low groan while his eyes fluttered closed at your touch. “always so shameless aren’t you sy?” you whisper against his lips as you continue to stroke the back of his ears.

you place small kisses down his jaw to his neck, teasing him as you trail lower and lower. your tongue tracing the outlines of his abs and muscles.

you come face to face with his cock, already throbbing and hot pink with arousal. you kiss the base of his cock, trailing up and down his length with your lips before tugging on it gently as you place the tip in your mouth.

his hands immediately interlace in your hair. the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive shaft was too much to bear, too good, he wished you’d never stop.

“fuck,” a low groan rumbles at the back of his throat followed by uneven pants. sylus throws his head back a little but looks back down to watch you. your eyes met his crimson ones as you release him from your mouth with a pop.

the feeling of his calloused hand could never compare with your mouth and tongue running up and down his length, your saliva dropping down and squelching on his hard cock.

“taste so good sy,” you moaned, placing a few tender kisses on his tip as you ran your hands up and down on his bare thighs.

his ears perked up once he heard that. he can’t finish in your mouth. he needs to fill you up. breed you till his heart content.

he lost all of his control, pushing you off him, your back hitting the soft plush of the mattress. you yelp in surprise as you feel him work off your shirt and bra urgently. he breathes you in, the scent of your bare skin filling his senses. his warm breath brushing over you, sending goosebumps across your body. “you smell divine,” he murmurs, kissing the skin of your chest before slowly moving towards the swell of your tits.

he takes your nipple into his mouth, dragging his tongue on it while he starts to suck. your eyes flutter close while your hands find their way to the back of his ears, making his ears twitch and his tail perk up.

his hands make quick work, pulling your bottoms down before tugging off the last piece of clothing that restricted him from entering.

“gonna give me a whole litter sweetie? keep you full of me?”

sylus sinks his thick heavy cock into your wet heat, your walls trying to welcome his length. your hands slide over his arms to rest on his broad shoulders, choked whimpers tumble out of your lips.

“so fucking tight,” he curses breathlessly,  your mind turning static with each drag of his cock against your sweet spot. it’s normally not like this with him, but he’s so desperate and feral right now.

the restraints of his animalistic urges were crumbling once he was finally inside of you. the way he effortlessly yanks you up with his calloused hands and wraps them around your thighs to fill you to the brim. he groans at the idea of stuffing you full of his seed, the warmth of your pussy was addicting that he didn’t want to leave. 

a guttural groan and curses escape him as he picks up the pace and thrusts upwards mercilessly. “i’m close sweetie..will you let me fill you sweetie? pump your tight pussy full of my cum,”

you let out a breathless yes as his hand rests on your stomach and presses it down. his words were barely audible to you now as he leaves open mouthed kisses. his teeth sinking into your soft skin, marking you his.

he could almost taste blood on his lips from biting his bottom lip too hard as he watches your belly bulge with each hard thrusts he gives. heavy balls slap against the curve of your ass, each thrusts of his seems to grow harsher, more deeper.

in absolute bliss, he finally fills you up and paints your insides white with thick spurts of his seed. obviously he doesn’t forget you. your orgasm hits you when he continues to pump inside of you, circling your sensitive clit in slow motion, incoherent whimpers until you feel your voice giving out.

“so good to me,” he murmurs, running a hand through your hair. he lowers himself toward you, peppering your face with sweet kisses and giving you kitten licks on the marks he’s bitten you on as you recover from your high.

“you’re gonna make a wonderful mother to my litter sweetie.” he murmurs, before sitting up, his cock still hard.

“sy please..’s too much” you whine as he lets out a low chuckle, “relax, you can handle it sweetie.”

this is my only blog. i do not have any other accounts where i post my content.

[sushiyuzu]

bodyguard’s duty

bodyguard!sylus x reader

a/n: big thanks to @obahajimarkkeu for tagging me and requesting this fic! not the best but i tried lol. i had a blast writing it, and i hope you all love it. your support really means a lot! <3

- do check out my sylus fic book on wattpad if you haven’t already!

your father was always a man of control. every decision, every move he made was calculated, especially in his political career. as one of the most powerful figures running for office this year, he wasn’t just careful—he was cautious to the point of paranoia. so when the threats started rolling in—anonymous messages, rumors of danger—he did what he always did. he took action.

and that’s how sylus entered your life.

he wasn’t the first bodyguard your father had hired, but he was certainly the most intimidating. tall, broad-shouldered, and deadly silent, sylus was a man who carried an aura of danger around him like a cloak. from the moment he was assigned to you, his presence became impossible to ignore. he followed you everywhere, his eyes always scanning, always searching for any hint of trouble.

it was suffocating at first. you weren’t used to being shadowed so closely. and, more than that, you didn’t want to be. you hated feeling like a prisoner, your every move watched, your freedom stripped away because of something as abstract as “danger”. but no amount of complaining to your father helped. he simply insisted that sylus was the best—someone who would keep you alive when no one else could.

“he’s not just any bodyguard,” your father had told you. “he’s the best the market has to offer. you’ll be safe with him.”

you weren’t sure if you believed that at first. but there was something about sylus—something that made you pause, that made you think there was more to him than just a hired gun. something deeper.

you weren’t sure what to make of him at first. his presence was unsettling—there was something about the way he moved, always so precise, always so quiet, like a predator stalking its prey. he was tall, with broad shoulders and a lean, powerful frame. but it was his silver hair and crimson red eyes that stood out the most, giving him an almost otherworldly appearance. he was unlike anyone you had ever met, and from the moment he arrived, you knew that things would never be the same.

at first, you tried to keep your distance, telling yourself that he was just another bodyguard, someone hired to follow you around and make sure nothing happened. but it didn’t take long for you to realize that sylus wasn’t like the others. he didn’t just follow orders. he watched you—closely. too closely. every move you made, every word you said, you could feel his eyes on you, studying, calculating.

one evening, after a particularly tense day, you found yourself standing on the balcony of your room, staring out at the city lights below. the cool breeze did little to ease the heat that had been building inside you over the past few weeks. you couldn’t stop thinking about sylus—the way his gaze seemed to burn through you, the way his presence lingered even when he wasn’t around.

you heard the door behind you open, and your heart skipped a beat. you didn’t need to turn around to know it was him. his presence was unmistakable, his footsteps silent as he approached.

“you think i’m just some hired muscle, don’t you?” his voice was low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

you turned slightly, leaning against the railing, trying to keep your voice steady. “aren’t you?” you asked, half-joking, trying to mask the unease creeping into your chest.

he was close now, too close, his tall frame looming over you, his crimson eyes locked on yours. “i’ve been watching you for a long time,” he said, his voice almost a growl. “i know every little thing that makes you tick.”

your heart raced at his words, and despite yourself, you smirked. “sounds like you’re obsessed.”

in an instant, sylus closed the distance between you, his hand gripping the railing beside you, trapping you between him and the edge. his breath was hot against your ear, and when he spoke again, his voice was a dangerous whisper. “maybe i am.”

the closeness of his body, the heat radiating off him—it was overwhelming. your pulse quickened, and every nerve in your body seemed to come alive. you told yourself you should be scared, that you should pull away, but all you could think about was how much you wanted him closer.

his hand brushed lightly against your waist, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. you inhaled sharply, your body responding in ways you couldn’t control.

“you should be careful,” sylus murmured, his lips grazing the side of your neck. “because once i have you, there’s no going back.”

his words were a warning, but they only made you want him more. the tension between you was unbearable, the air thick with desire and danger. you could feel his breath against your skin, his body pressing ever so slightly against yours, and it took everything in you not to pull him closer, to close the gap entirely.

but before you could act on the impulse, something caught his attention. his entire body tensed, and in one swift motion, he pulled you back into the room, shutting the balcony door behind you. his eyes scanned the darkness outside, his crimson gaze sharp, focused.

“stay here,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. but you hated being treated like a delicate flower, hated feeling helpless. you took a step forward, determined to stand your ground, but sylus was faster. before you could even blink, he had you pinned against the wall, his body shielding yours.

“what did i just say?” he growled, his breath hot against your skin, his hand firm around your wrist. “next time, you stay behind me.”

your breath caught at the intensity in his voice, the way his eyes blazed with barely contained anger. and yet, despite the danger, you couldn’t help the thrill that ran through you at his protectiveness, at the way his body pressed so close to yours.

“and if i don’t?” you challenged, your voice barely a whisper.

for a moment, sylus said nothing, his gaze locked on yours, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths. then, with a swift, almost violent movement, he gripped your chin, tilting your head up so that you were forced to meet his eyes. “then i’ll remind you who’s in charge of keeping you alive.”

the raw dominance in his voice made your pulse race, your skin tingling under his touch. his grip was firm, possessive, but it wasn’t painful. if anything, it sent a wave of heat through you, making your heart pound even harder.

just as quickly as he had grabbed you, sylus released you, stepping back with a clenched jaw, his eyes still locked on yours. “don’t test me,” he warned, his voice quieter now, but no less intense.

you stood there, breathless, your body still buzzing with the adrenaline of the moment. you wanted to push him further, to see how far you could go, but something told you this wasn’t the time.

days passed, and the tension between you only grew stronger. every glance, every accidental touch, felt like a spark waiting to ignite. you knew you were playing with fire, but you couldn’t help it. there was something about sylus, something dark and magnetic that drew you in, despite your better judgment.

one night, after another close call, you found yourself alone with him in your room. the danger had passed, but the adrenaline still surged through your veins, leaving you restless. sylus stood near the window, his back to you, his posture tense. the silence between you was thick, filled with unspoken words and desires.

“i’m sorry,” you said softly, breaking the silence. “i didn’t mean to make things difficult.”

sylus turned to face you, his crimson eyes softening ever so slightly. he let out a low, humorless chuckle. “you think i’d complain? watching over you is the only thing keeping me sane.”

his words sent a thrill through you, and without thinking, you stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. his skin was warm, the muscles beneath it tense, and the moment your fingers made contact, you felt the familiar surge of heat between you.

“you’re a constant risk, you know that?” he muttered, his eyes fixed on the floor. “you make my job impossible.”

you looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “then why stay?” you asked, your voice challenging, though there was genuine curiosity behind it. why did he stay? with all the danger, the constant threats, why didn’t he just walk away?

“i’m not just a job to you, am i?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sylus’s eyes darkened, and before you could say anything else, he pulled you against him, his lips crashing down on yours with a hunger that left you breathless. the kiss was searing, possessive, and filled with all the tension that had been building between you for weeks. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, his body pressed hard against yours.

every inch of you was on fire, your skin burning with the intensity of his touch. his lips moved against yours with a fierceness that made your head spin, and when he finally pulled away, you were left gasping for air, your heart racing.

“because i’d die before i let anything happen to you,” sylus muttered, his voice rough, his breath hot against your skin.

his words hit you like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. you stared at him, speechless, unable to process the depth of what he had just said. sylus, the man who was supposed to be detached, professional, had just confessed something far more personal, far more intense.

and in that moment, you realized that this wasn’t just about a job for him. this wasn’t just about protecting you because your father paid him to. this was something more. something deeper.

backup acc: @sushibelle

[strangererotica]

An addition to this fic, as @plasticfangtastic kindly mentioned she’d like a second part ♥️

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

some big content warnings: implied character death, vomit, blood, menstrual blood, consuming of aforementioned bodily fluids by Art, breath play, choking, dubious consent, oral sex, vaginal sex, use of a sex toy

He was back.

Oh my god, he was back.

Your stomach roiled in a disturbing mix of revulsion and excitement. You wanted this. Despite how loudly your thinned grip on sanity was screaming at you not to want this, you did. You wanted him: this sick fucking clown, leaning menacingly in the frame of your bedroom doorway.

As before, he remained silent. The only sounds you could hear were the quick breaths you drew in and out, and the plastic crinkle of the black garbage bag settling at the clown’s feet. You knew what he kept inside that bag…terrible things, things that he used to hurt people. As he knelt to rifle through its contents, fear momentarily overrode the twisted arousal swelling between your thighs.

Your heart was pounding so hard you swore you could hear it, knocking against your ribcage like a frenetic drumbeat. The metallic sound of various weapons being shifted about scratched at your ears, making you gulp. The clown paused, making an exaggerated expression as if to say “ahh, there it is.” He produced something from inside the garbage bag you’d never have expected…something less likely to cause pain, and much more likely to cause pleasure instead…

His smile deepened as he met your eyes. The long, fat dildo looked strange held in the clown’s hand, lingering mid-air as he observed your response to it. Your lips had parted, words failing you and for a moment, making the two of you somewhat equal. Words were unnecessary to describe the confusion and anticipation you were feeling; the look on your face confirmed for the clown everything he already knew. He may have been a monster, but something inside him remained a man. The way your body had responded on his hand the day prior revealed your needs were just as human as his.

He approached you deliberately, taunting you with his slow pace. You made note of the open doorway behind him, wondering fleetingly if you could escape. The thought faded as quickly as it had formed, however, when the clown stopped at the side of your bed, and tapped the dildo lightly against your lips. All traces of common sense, all semblance of self preservation, evaporated in an instant. His other hand came to rest at your cheek, pulling tenderly along the curve of your jawline. You drew in a sharp breath, shock racking your body at the realization that the fingertips currently tracing your skin in a gesture of tenderness were also capable of unspeakable violence. The clown’s thumb dragged along your bottom lip, pulling it slightly downward. You gazed obediently up at him, tepidly offering your tongue against the tip of his thumb. His expression softened, his sharp features relaxing slightly at your offering up, of surrender when he was so accustomed to being met with fear. You, however, were proving yourself even better than prey. Offerings were always preferable to sacrifices, the clown had observed. Especially when they fit his cock as well as you…

He pressed the head of the dildo between your lips, his chest dipping in an exhale as you took the first four inches with no resistance. Your eyelids fluttered, lashes dusting up and down rapidly as your gag reflex was triggered on the sixth inch of the toy. The clown shook his head disapprovingly, and you felt a sting of disappointment. You wanted to please him, and his expression conveyed that your performance with the toy was coming up short. As if to compensate, you began to bob your head on the toy, silently asking the clown to try again. He cocked an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders amiably, before abruptly forcing another two inches down your throat. Your eyes flew open wide, your body lurching as a surge of vomit washed up your throat. The clown removed the dildo, watching as you sprayed the floor beside your bed in hot, slippery bile. Coughing hoarsely, you used your pajama sleeve to wipe at your glistening chin, tears forming along your lash line. The clown’s hand moved to your hair, gripping a handful of your tresses painfully hard. He threw your back against the bed, climbing astride you and casing you in between his legs.

He examined the toy, peppered with bits of your sick, before dragging his tongue along its surface and licking it clean. The act should have repulsed you, but somehow, in his presence you were beyond the confines of your normal sexual principles. The gesture was somehow tender, considerate; and when he tore the waist of your pajama shorts down, you didn’t even mind that it hurt, elastic snapping your hip with a sharp sting. The clown positioned the head of the dildo against your entrance, his smile fading to a look of concentrated arousal when he noticed the red liquid smeared between your thighs. He pressed the toy inside you, his cock stiffening against your thigh when you whimpered at being filled. Again, he thrust the toy into you, his breath quickening as he watched your menstrual blood gush out around the toy’s head. He continued to fuck you on the toy, his own cock needy and leaking against the inside of his costume as he thrust the dildo, and your blood, in and out of you over and over again.

When he did remove the toy, it was with selfish intent. Because rather than lay it aside, the clown pulled it to his lips desperately, sucking your crimson essence from the silicone toy like it was sustaining him. He then reached under you, gripping your ass and lifting your hips till they were elevated at his face. Before you could even comprehend what was about to happen, the clown had buried his mouth against your cunt, a mix of lips, teeth and tongue devouring you in rough, greedy pursuit. It was too much, the physical sensations and their emotional implications overwhelming you. The way he literally ate you was the most intense sexual experience you’d ever had. The level of intimacy having your blood consumed by sometime else created was unlike anything else; no ordinary orgasm could compare to this, no drug could ever match this high. You came screaming, fingernails tearing into the fabric of your bedsheets, heels kicking into the clown’s shoulders at a brutal force that no man could have withstood. He held you in place as if it were effortless for him, like your ass in his hands and your cunt in his mouth were weightless.

When he sank his teeth into the fat of your inner thigh, you yelped in pain, and he immediately lifted his head, face covered in your blood, locking eyes with you. The blue you’d seen in them earlier had vanished, replaced with something pitch black and haunting, as if consuming your blood had itself tinted the clown’s eyes with ink. He climbed across you, his erection prodding your stomach, your legs left trembling on the bed where he’d dropped them. Ripping the fabric separating his body from yours, the clown reached inside his costume and removed his cock. You trembled under him, his other hand closing over your throat, your pulse drumming against the soiled palm of his glove. Squeezing harder around your throat, the clown watched your eyes as he sank his cock inside you. You tried to exhale, but his hand wouldn’t allow it, your cheeks going puffy and red, eyes widening in alarm as he kept your breath locked away inside his grip. Your hold on consciousness began to waver, eyes drifting backward in surrender. Air was suddenly returned to you, the clown’s hold on your throat relenting long enough for you to suck desperately at all the oxygen your burning lungs could hold. His hips slammed forward, crushing your insides like a weight. His lithe fingers once again tightened around your throat, sealing off your access to the air and the world around you…

You jolted upward, your chest crushed beneath the clown’s weight over you. His smile was sadistic as usual, confirming that he enjoyed this game of control, of bringing you inches from the edge of death before lurching you mercifully back to consciousness. His cock was splitting you apart at the seams, bruising your cervix as he seemed to get bigger the longer he was inside you. It was as if his cock had continued to grow even after becoming fully erect, swelling inside you till not a single crevice of your cunt was untouched by his girth. He released your throat, grinning maniacally as you gasped at the air, watching the red imprint of his fingers rapidly form a bruise in your skin. Free to breathe as you needed, you began to feel all the other sensations the clown was stimulating inside you. His fat, engorged length fit perfectly inside you, lodged against your g-spot in a way that had your back arching, drool spilling from your lips to the bedsheets as you moaned for more, more, more. He knew what you needed, but he wanted to hear you beg. Holding your life in his hands wasn’t enough for the clown; he needed to hold your pleasure ransom as well. He’d already spoiled you with one orgasm, the best you’d ever had in your life or ever would have, and he knew it. Now your pleasure was optional; he wasn’t going to play with you much longer anyway. It was his time to get what he needed, to take what he wanted from you before his time with you was over.

Reaching again for your hips, the clown lifted them so he was fucking down into you, your back plastered to the drenched bed, a sticky mix of cum and blood caking the sheets to your skin. You felt yourself getting close again, the raw throb of an even more powerful climax than the first rolling up from deep in your core. The sounds that left your lips were unholy, hedonistic cries to the god of this earth for more and more pleasure, for unending ecstasy at the expense of all that is good and holy and right. Your teeth sealed over your bottom lip, breaking the skin as you convulsed in orgasm. Ripples of pleasure rocked through you, snapping your hips back and forth, jolting on the cock inside you so wildly that the clown didn’t even have to thrust, but rather watched as you fucked yourself on him. He grit his teeth as the first tug of his orgasm began, biting the insides of his cheeks till the soft tissue bled. Ropes of cum belched inside you, coating the walls of your pussy, his thrusts smearing your bullied cervix in creamy white.

He sank his fingertips into the fat of your hips, watching with interest as crescent-shaped marks bloomed red under his ministrations. You were too fucked-out to feel anything at this point, your body still shaking even after your orgasm had faded. Eyes clouded over, a sheen of sweat and blood covering you, the clown thought you looked even prettier than you had wearing his cum on your back the night before. And now, he decided, it was time to see how pretty you’d look from the inside out. He left the bed, taking a step toward his garbage bag of supplies by the doorway. You were too busy shaking and panting, and mumbling some incoherent string of nonsense to realize that the clown had removed a blood-caked axe from his bag. Returning to the bed, he climbed astride you once again, his knees at your sides. Art tucked his softening, satisfied dick inside his costume, sighed contentedly, then lifted the axe above his head… 🩸

@hippiegothrecs @megangovier @plasticfangtastic @jessieconstantine1999 @kakixii @theslvttysimp

[coryndoll]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: sexual themes !! but eek another cliffhanger i fear yall are gonna eat me alive

prev next

authors note: i havent slept and its 8am because ive been writing this for U GUYS 😞 let me know if u would like to be part of the tag list tho thru replies, anons, or dms !! notifications are always on <3

drew jolts awake, his heart racing from whatever dream he’s already forgotten. he blinks against the early light streaming through the curtains, his eyes squinting as he scans the room. instinctively, his hand reaches for your side of the bed, but it’s empty.

“y/n?” he murmurs, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. his brain tries to catch up to his surroundings, still sluggish from sleep.

just as he’s about to throw the covers off and go looking for you, the door creaks open. there you are, balancing a tray in your hands with a small but proud grin on your face. his lips curl into an instant smile at the sight of you, and it’s relief that washes over him.

“good morning,” you draw out playfully, your voice teasing as you approach the bed. drew watches, amusement in his eyes.

“what’s all this?” he asks, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes but already intrigued by the spread.

you gesture to the tray proudly, listing off the items you’ve prepared. “made us both some eggs, bacon, toast . . . oh, and fresh fruit,” you say, pointing at the colorful array of berries on the side. “figured i’d bring it to you since you were still sleeping.”

he chuckles, sitting up properly and glancing over at the tray with a grin. “so did the others get the same royal treatment?” he jokes, looking up at you with raised eyebrows.

“obviously.” you nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “the girls and i were up early making breakfast for everyone. the guys are already up and eating, but i thought I’d bring yours here. you know, special delivery.”

he shakes his head, still smiling as he takes it all in. “so, breakfast in bed? don’t mind if i do.”

“shut up,” you say as you crawl onto the bed carefully, setting the tray between you both.

as you settle beside him, drew is already popping a blueberry into his mouth. he chews thoughtfully, an amused look crossing his face. “you know,” he says, pausing to finish his bite before continuing, “you never did stuff like this when we were together.”

you glance at him, casual as ever. “we were always too busy,” you reply nonchalantly, reaching for a piece of bacon. “i don’t think we ever really had time to eat breakfast together in the mornings, or whatever.”

it’s such an offhanded comment, one you barely think twice about, but drew does. his fork hovers mid-air as your words sink in. he realizes how right you are—there was always something else, always a rush to be somewhere or do something. sure, you spent time together, but not like this. not with simple, meaningful moments that could’ve mattered.

his thoughts flicker back to the night before, to the messages he saw on his phone. that nagging feeling from last night returns, tugging at him. he quickly glances over to the nightstand, his head whipping around so fast that it draws your attention immediately.

you laugh, startled by his sudden movement. “dude, are you alright?” there’s amusement in your voice, but you look at him with mild concern.

he blinks, pulling himself together, and his heart beats a little faster. “yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” he replies quickly, trying to shake off the tension that suddenly crept in. he flashes a quick smile, picking up his fork again and taking another bite. “just thought i, like . . . misplaced my phone or something.”

you raise a brow at him but let it slide, not thinking much of it as you continue eating.

drew takes a bite of the eggs, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out an involuntary moan. his hand flies to his mouth, covering it as he starts to laugh, almost embarrassed by how dramatic his reaction is. “oh my god . . .” he mumbles, shaking his head like he can’t believe it.

you look over at him, confused but amused by his reaction. “what?” you ask, smiling, not quite getting what’s so funny.

he finishes chewing, still grinning, and gestures at the eggs with his fork. “these. i know it has to be you who made the eggs.”

you raise an eyebrow, genuinely puzzled. “what do you mean?”

“there’s just something about the way you make them,” he explains, his voice sincere. “i don’t know what it is, but it’s like i could pick your eggs out of a million different versions. they’re always so . . . perfect. they melt in my mouth every time.”

you laugh, slightly bashful but clearly appreciating the compliment. “whatever,” you say, though you’re smiling. “they’re just eggs.”

he shakes his head, still smiling back at you. “no you’ve got, like, the magic touch or something.”

curious now, you take a bite of your own eggs, chewing thoughtfully before pausing. you look over at him, nodding slowly in agreement.“you’re right. these are good.”

drew laughs at your half-joking realization, and you can’t help but join in. the moment feels light and easy, like a glimpse of what things used to be, even if it’s just for a second. “told you,” he teases, leaning into you as he takes another bite.

you grin, leaning back into him. “okay, fine, maybe i do have a magic touch.”

the laughter fades, leaving a comfortable silence as you take another bite of your breakfast. it’s easy, almost natural, how quickly you fall into this rhythm—like no time has passed. drew shifts beside you, the subtle change in his posture drawing your attention.

he clears his throat, looking over at you. “thanks . . . by the way,” he says, and you look at him as he gestures to the food. “for breakfast. this is really nice.”

you give him a small smile, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. “just don’t get too used to it.”

you’re laughing and singing songs with the girls as you make your way down to the beach. you’re only really carrying your towel with you as you skip down to an open spot. libby’s protecting her large floppy hat as she runs there with you, shouting that you all should make camp here.

you look behind you and wait for the others. you spot drew immediately as he carries the bluetooth speaker in one hand but on his opposite shoulder is the large tote bag you gave him earlier. he posed for you when you said he looked like a mother.

“hurry, hurry, hurry!” you say, mainly to drew, because he has the groups shared essentials. “i can literally feel my skin aging the longer you guys take.”

roman trudges through the sand, clearly not enjoying the trek, even though it’s better than if they didn’t stay at a beach house like they are now. “you know, if you’re so concerned about your skin aging, maybe you should’ve thought about that before today,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

gia grimaces at how stupid he is. “or maybe you should’ve thought about showering before leaving the house, babe,” she says, then continues walking over until she reaches you and libby.

roman stops in his tracks, feigning offense. “i’m literally holding your second bag to the beach. like who even does that?” he gestures dramatically to the extra tote slung over his shoulder.

theo comes up from behind and pats his shoulder to say that it’s okay as he passes by, so roman mumbles something under his breath as he continues.

eventually, you’re stripping down to your bikini as you watch the waves. you unbutton your shorts and pull them down, shimmying out of them before tossing them onto your towel that’s already been laid out.

you pull your hair away from your face as you look toward the group. “is anyone going in the water?” you ask them, but there’s several no’s and not yet’s that make you frown.

“i’ll go in later maybe,” theo volunteers for you. “i just came down here to bring the chairs and set my towel down but i still need to cook the hotdogs in the backyard.” he’s pointing behind him, and you groan.

“so boring,” you mumble as theo nudges oscar before they start heading back to the house to begin making late lunch already.

“y/n?” gia says as she plans on handing you the sunscreen next. she and roman have already had a turn as they share their towel together. roman looks as grumpy as ever as he rubs the sunscreen into his skin while gia sits pretty and tries to keep her hair out of her face.

you drop to your knees on your towel and shuffle forward to reach for the bottle that gia hands you, and you plant your butt back down on your towel.

drew finishes setting up the speaker for leila to play her music, and he glances over just in time to see you about to apply sunscreen. he hesitates for a moment, then clears his throat, “you want some help?”

you look up, a bit surprised but also amused. “are you volunteering?”

“maybe,” he replies, “just thought i’d help out.”

you bite your lip, considering it. “okay, but just my back, please.” you’ve already squeezed some sunscreen into your hand so you decide to spread it on your legs while he gets to work on your torso.

he steps onto your towel and crouches down behind you. as his hands glide over your skin, you can’t help but sigh in relief. “you’re kinda really good at this. i feel like i’m at a spa.”

drew grins, glancing at you. “guess i’ve picked up a few tricks over the years.”

there’s a moment of playful silence as you finish your legs, and he begins massaging the sunscreen into your shoulders. you tilt your head back a little, relishing in the feeling.

it almost feels nice to recognize the familiar hands across your skin. he’s dipping down toward your chest as he settles down to get closer, reaching around you. you make it easier by leaning back against his chest while watching his hands, making sure he’s not doing anything he shouldn’t be.

but it’s like you’re in a daze as you witness the way he rubs it into your chest, around your bikini top, and down to your waist. he knows your body well enough to know that he’ll cause goosebumps immediately, and he does.

a part of you feels guilty, like it’s almost wrong—but it is all for the plan, right? you make up the excuse for yourself as drew’s hands move back up, edging the bottom of your breasts as your breath hitches. you hear his breathing by your ear as you watch him be so careful, so cautious with where he touches you.

but before it goes any further, he pulls away, and honestly, you think it's a smart choice. you swallow down whatever you just felt as you pull yourself together, and you glance behind you as he gets up. “thanks, star,” you murmur, and you hear a faint ‘uh-huh’ as he sits back to do his own.

you make sure he’s rubbed everything in briefly before turning back to see what he’s doing. he’s already spreading sunscreen onto his arms when he catches your eye, and there’s a smile when he understands the situation.

he nods to the bottle that’s just laying on the towel, and you know what this means. that it’s alright if you want to help him too.

you take the bottle into your own hands and squeeze some out onto your palm, then crawl behind him to sit down. you work on his back for a while, and you can’t help but admire him while he can’t see you.

you notice everything. the way his back muscles flex, how he flinches the moment your hands touch him, but also the way he relaxes into your touch the second after.

he’s waiting patiently for you, and you hear him chuckle a bit after you finish, so you crawl on all fours to sit down in front of him. you give him a look, asking if he’s already done it yet, but he shakes his head.

you smile to yourself as more sunscreen lands in your palm, and you massage it into his shoulders first. he sits up straight for you as you slowly make your way down.

you can’t tell if he’s flexing his abs as a joke but you look up at him and make eye contact, just inches away, and you smile at each other. he’s stupid but it still amuses you regardless.

he leans back and holds himself up by his palms, looking up to the sun. his eyes are clamped shut as he scrunches his nose briefly.

you move your hands lower until you reach his v-line, a little underneath the hem of his shorts. you shouldn’t be going there but you do anyway. he tenses immediately when you start and you know what you’re doing—you can’t help it—but you pull away and spread the remaining sunscreen on his face to make sure he’s fully covered. you feel like a mother when you do, but ignore it.

“i appreciate it, thank you,” he says to you, and you close the sunscreen bottle and toss it back over to one of the open chairs in case anyone else needs it.

with that, you get up, looking toward the water as you adjust your bottoms. you look back at drew, “come on.”

“what?” he says out of habit, before realizing what you’re talking about. “no.”

“come on,” you say again as you walk to him and grab his arms, then his wrists, to pull him onto his feet. you know he’s willing because you’re even able to move him.

you let go of his wrists as you make your way over to the water. “let’s go! just for a bit! you can just dip your feet in.”

drew doesn’t say anything but him rolling his eyes tells you everything. he’s so sassy, but it makes you grin as you hold your hand our for him to take. he’s slow as he walks over, pretending to not want to, and you groan.

“okay then go sit back down if you don’t want t—”

you’re terrified when he starts charging at you, and you scream as you run to the water as if it’ll help you. he runs in there with you, but you’re constantly looking back and going deeper in when you see he’s still determined to catch you.

he’s pretending to be some monster as he fake growls, though it’s just his face with no round, while clawing at the water as he tries to make his way over to you.

the small waves hit your torso and your hair as it splashes up your body. it’s colder than you thought it would be, and your mouth gapes open in shock.

drew ends up catching up to you and he scoops you up with ease since you’re in the water, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you further into the ocean by your bum.

you look toward the group and see what everyone’s doing in just a brief moment—theo and oscar still gone, you see roman even heading back to the house to help probably, gia’s tanning while laying on her towel, then leila and libby are talking while on the beach chairs right beside her.

drew stops walking when you reach a good spot that won’t kill you in a wave. hopefully. but he doesn’t set you down. the water already reaches high on his torso, so he assumes it’s best not to put you down and risk an incoming wave.

you hold on tight as you look out to the horizon, and you pull away to look at him. there’s an instant smile that forms when you’re face-to-face.

“the water feels nice,” you say awkwardly. the ocean is cold against your back but any body part that touches drew’s body is warm. he’s warm. “i’m really glad you came.”

drew cocks his head to the side as he squints his eyes, “i’m pretty sure i had to. leila wanted to go to the beach today so uh . . .”

“no you fucking—” he’s laughing and you have to wait until he’s done. “you know i meant on this trip,” you tell him.

“i’m glad you came too,” drew says, and you pull him closer again, burying yourself between your arm and the side of his head, and you close your eyes as the waves push you back and forth.

hours pass, unexpectedly. you didn’t initially plan on staying there for so long—none of you do, but time just flies. you’ve eaten the hotdogs provided by the boys, which you heard some got burnt thanks to theo.

you played volleyball a bit after, boys vs girls. you wanted to sit out but leila convinced you to stay.

“don’t be such a baby, roman!” you remember gia yelling to her boyfriend from across the net, and then he was hit with the volleyball again.

now it’s nightfall. you’ve all packed up and returned to the house simultaneously to take showers. some stay to talk or build really sad sand castles out of cups from the house while others occup the showers.

“why don’t you and theo just shower together?” you remember libby asking leila as you and her laid on the chairs together while libby was on the floor with said sand castle.

leila grimaces. “washing sand out of his ass is not romantic whether you’re about to be married or not.”

now you’re all clean, dressed in your pajamas with your freshly wet hair as you sit on the floor with leila. drew is already taking his turn in the shower while you discuss the little scrapbook leila brought on the trip.

she said that she bought everything literally on day one, and she hasn’t gotten around to filling it out yet because she doesn’t know how to. she grabbed you to help and you went to your room to see what she had.

there’s different stickers, paint, flowers, glitter, possibly the entire arts and crafts store all over the floor as you two plan even the first page. she had absolutely no idea what she was doing—you’re certain that she went to the store that day and just started grabbing whatever she thought was cute, but you don’t blame her.

“i just want to show this to our kids or something when they’re our age,” leila says as she rearranges the photograph of her and theo when they first started dating, and she frowns at the memory.

“are you thinking about kids?” you ask her as you glue on a piece of paper in the corner of the page that leila insisted was aesthetic.

leila shrugs, “i mean, you know how it is. eventually, just not now. i don’t think theo and i are ready for that.”

“waking up to crying in the middle of the night,” you let her picture it herself as you scrunch your nose up, “when you already haven’t been able to sleep for days.”

“that’s the only part i’m not excited about,” leila tells you, and she pauses as she thinks about it. “besides the vomiting, the screaming, the pooping, so really i—”

“—should not have a child anytime soon,” you cut her off, and she chuckles, nudging you with her shoulder as she plays around with some of the stickers.

leila sighs after a bit and she looks around, but it’s difficult to see right away when all the stuff is on the floor. “what time is it? i feel like it’s getting late, or it’s ice cream sundae time.”

“probably the second one,” you mumble as you look around for your phone. you don’t know where it is but it clearly isn’t there. it must be in one of the tote bags downstairs, but that’s too far away. “hold on.”

you get up and carefully step over the mess you’ve created—though leila’s already collecting everything to call it a night—and approach your side of the bed. your phone isn’t there still and there’s no clock in this particular room.

you take a peek over at drew’s side of the bed. his phone is laid face down on his nightstand, almost about to fall off. you sigh as you grab it and plan on putting it safely on the nightstand after you check the time really quickly.

“it’s just 10,” you tell her.

she nods as she stuffs her bag with more supplies, muttering under her breath, “definitely sundae time.”

you’re about to put his phone down when a notification comes in. he has a million already pending but you don’t even plan on looking at them until this one comes in just now.

‘ are you seriously with her? ’

you furrow your eyebrows as you check the name.

mila?

is this his girl best friend or something?

another notification comes in right after that that you can’t ignore.

‘ i’m going to sleep. just text me tomorrow. ’

‘ please. ’

‘ i miss you. xo ’

the words blur together for a second, but the meaning behind them hits you all at once. he’s been talking to someone else this whole time, since before the plan was even made probably. you feel a twist in your stomach, but you try to steady yourself, taking a slow breath.

you weren’t expecting this, but it’s not like he owes you anything. you knew things had changed between you two, but seeing these messages—it hurts more than you thought it would.

you’ve been getting closer, laughing together, and just being there in the ocean in his embrace . . . and the whole time, someone else has been on the other side of his phone, waiting for him.

if you had known, if drew had told you he was still talking to someone, you never would’ve agreed to this plan.

you feel uncomfortable, a little betrayed, but not heartbroken. it’s not that deep—not yet. but it’s enough to make you feel like you’ve stepped into something you weren’t prepared for.

“you wanna make the sundae with me?” leila’s voice barely rips you from your thoughts as she gathers her things in her bag and stands up, waiting on you.

“what? no, i’m fine,” you tell her. “i’m probably gonna head to bed soon? i don’t know, i’m tired but i’ll let you know. i’ll probably join you, knowing me.”

she smiles at you but leaves it at that, and leaves the room, leaves your thoughts to grow bigger and louder now that you’re alone.

you don’t check any more of his messages, respecting enough of his privacy not to dig. the weight of those few words heavy in the air as you switch his phone off and set it back down on the nightstand.

i miss you. xo

you shake your head, trying to push the thoughts away. this was supposed to be for your friends, just a harmless plan to avoid awkward questions. that’s all. but now, you’re starting to wonder if there’s more going on here than you realized.

this wasn’t part of the plan.

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld @willowpains @toterry @wearemadeofstardust0 @maybankslover @itneverendshere @httpsdrewstarkey @ilyrafe @cl4uus @sunny1616 @pillowprincess4him @yootvi

[after-witch]

Horrorfest: All We Are [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Title: All We Are [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Synopsis: Shigaraki wants to cuddle. You want to die.

For Horrorfest request:

If I may request, Yan Shigaraki with a reader whose quirk is instant regeneration! As in, when he touches them, they do start to turn to dust, but their quirk pulls them back together at the same rate - without any sort of external painkiller, however, they can still feel their body continually decaying at his touch and it’s incredibly painful though it leaves no lasting damage due to the nature of their ability. And Shigaraki is asking for cuddles!

Hopefully this isn’t too specific, and happy October!!

Word count: 515

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, reader gets decayed over and over, mentions of suicidal thoughts

“Stop crying,” he mutters, impatience tinged with the bitterest touch of regret. You hate that tone in his voice–this morsel of pity that he dangles above you like rotten grapes. It would be better if he didn’t muster up any remorse at all for the way he hurts you, how much he hurts you.

That is to say–badly, and often.

“I can’t,” you manage, throat dry, acrid. It hurts to talk. That’s because he touched your throat early in the evening, fingers stroking the flesh as he murmured hot against your cheek. The skin of your throat flaked away and he pulled away just as the decay reached the flesh underneath, scorching your lungs. It healed, sure. But the lingering burn is still there. Like touching a hot stove.

Well–the other pain makes it hard to voice a thought, too. You can’t forget about the other pain. It’s a constant, now, with his arm around you. But instead of wearing his protective gloves, his hands are bare. 

All the better to touch skin to skin, so that he can pretend this is normal and he is normal and you aren't falling apart under him.

Falling apart–not in the way you might want to fall apart with someone you loved. Not in a way that leaves you sprawled on the bed, had thrown back, eyes glazed over in bliss.  

Falling apart as your flesh decays again and again, the sound of it disintegrating–the sound of your whimpers–on a terrible loop. He turns up the volume on the cheesy romance movie and you're not sure if he pretends not to hear, or if the sound coming from his old speakers really covers it up.

It doesn’t matter that you come back together. It still hurts. It takes its toll. It makes you want to throw yourself off a building, if you could get to the top of one. He won’t let you. He won’t let you get very far at all; you’re his doll, his comfort toy, something he holds close when he wants to feel something.

All he makes you feel is pain.

He turns towards you. and there's that pitiful look again,  and you wish your quirk would let you put your hands on his face and make it go away. It’s useless junk. 

“I just want to hold you,” he says, soft. Like it’ll make you feel sorry for him. “I can’t touch anyone else. Not like this.”

Like this–you think. As you fall apart and come together and fall apart and come together. 

As he reaches his thumb up to wipe at your tears, and you have just enough awareness to jerk your head away. Even he pauses, realizing the mistake, and turns his head back to the TV. Pulls you closer–fuck, it hurts–but keeps his fingers away from the delicate flesh of your cheek.

“We’ll do something you like later,” he says, matter of fact. His way of apology. “After we cuddle for a while longer.”

As your body crumbles and reassembles itself on repeat, you can’t bring yourself to be grateful. 

[heich0e]

Touya's not usually one to check his text messages.

Never has been, ever since he got his first cellphone when he was 13. He finds it more of a nuisance than anything, the way people always want to get ahold of him. Always expect a response from him over the most mundane shit. He barely likes talking to anyone as is, let alone during his private time—therefore, as a general rule, he doesn't respond to texts.

Especially not ones that pop up on his phone on a lazy Saturday afternoon with the contact name 'Bird Brain' listed as the sender.

But when these particular message previews appear, rudely interrupting him in the middle of watching a cake decorating video while he lays sprawled across the couch, Touya can't help but click through to the conversation to give them the response that they deserve.

His response is about as succinct and unamused as he is.

Three telltale dots appear at the bottom of the conversation before Touya can click away, and he finds himself waiting to see what Keigo comes back with—for reasons not even he quite understands.

Touya pushes himself up off the couch in an instant, stomping into your bedroom.

He finds himself hesitating once he makes it to the doorway, his body having moved relatively of its own accord, realizing only once he's standing at the threshold that he's not even really sure what he's going to say.

You're laying across the bottom of your bed on your tummy with your sock-clad feet lifted in the air behind you. You have one headphone in your ear and your laptop propped in front of you with that stupid romantic drama you like so much playing—the one Touya pretends he hates but always gets a little pouty when you watch an episode without him. You turn when you spot him in your peripheral vision, popping your headphone out of your ear and hitting the spacebar to pause your show.

"I'm almost done," you tell him, glancing back to your screen where the male lead is paused mid-confession—his mouth still open in the middle of his ardent monologue. You peer back at him again over your shoulder with a slightly smug look. "If you hadn't watched ahead without me we could be watching it together, y'know."

"That was an accident," Touya grumbles, sniffing a little indignantly. "It started playin' automatically when I turned the TV on."

"Sure, sure," you chirp, turning back to your laptop. When you realize Touya's still lingering there, you face him again, this time pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can twist around to look at him more fully. Your brow furrows. "What's wrong?"

Touya sucks in a breath of air and holds it in his cheeks, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Can I see your phone for a sec?" he asks.

The pinch of your brow slackens as one of them lifts in surprise.

"Yeah," you say, though your tone is still a little wary. You nod towards your bedside table at the head of the bed. "It's plugged in."

Touya shuffles towards you, rounding the end of your bed frame and approaching the device in question. He sit down at the edge of the mattress, and it dips under his weight. Beside him, you shuffle a bit closer to him as you resume watching your show, one of your feet brushing gently against his back as you kick them idly back and forth.

Touya knows your passcode, just like you know his, so it's no effort to unlock the device once he has it in hand. Finding the app in question is another story entirely.

He turns to you.

"Which one of these is Instagram?" he asks, holding the device in front of your face with the home screen open.

You pause your show again.

"This one," you say, pointing to one particular app icon, but your voice is notably perplexed.

Touya's never had any interest in social media. He had a couple of accounts when he was a teenager but hasn't properly logged in for years. As new social networking sites have risen and fallen, he's never bothered to even sign up, seeing no need in signing away his personal data to a platform he'll never use anyway.

Touya taps his thumb against the icon that you pointed out, waiting for the application to launch. His leg jiggles impatiently while he waits for it to load.

Beside him, you don't unpause your show.

When the screen finally loads, Touya is immediately accosted by an unfamiliar interface. There's some photo of a girl he doesn't know taking up most of the screen, and a few bubbles in the upper right hand corner that he can only assume are notifications you haven't checked. Touya may not use social media, but he's not an idiot either, so after clicking around the screen for long enough he finally manages to pull up what he recognizes as your personal profile.

"Touya, what are you doing?" you ask, thoroughly bewildered now, having just watched your boyfriend visit just about every corner of the Instagram app.

He sucks in a sharp breath.

Slowly, he turns to look at you.

"Did you just post this?"

He doesn't really need to ask, considering the baggy t-shirt you're wearing in the photo—his t-shirt, he recognizes immediately—is the same one you currently have on as you lie stretched across your bed. It's all you have on, save for the frilly little socks on your feet and the edge of the panties he can see peeking out where your shirt's hem has ridden up.

The photo blessedly has left those out.

You clear your throat, almost like you're embarrassed, reaching out for your cellphone. "Yeah, a little while ago."

Touya holds the device out of your reach, and a little sound of indignation slips from your lips. He keeps scrolling.

Your profile is full of photos of you that are just as charming as the first one he'd seen. Some are of friends, or food, or places you've visited. Many are even of him, or the two of you together. The collection is like a series of little snapshots into your life—of all the moments you wanted to save or share. But every so often there will be a photo just of you.

You with your lips pursed coyly, or maybe quirked with the ghost of a smile. You wrapped in a skimpy little dress you bought for a special occasion that Touya is all too familiar with. You with your eyes bright, or maybe one where they're heavy lidded in a sultry expression that makes something possessive and primal scrape against Touya's ribs.

His face feels hot when he looks at those ones. Hotter still when he realizes other people have seen them too.

"I think you should delete your account," he says suddenly, turning to face you with a completely serious—and markedly insistent—expression.

"W-what? Touya!" You exclaim plaintively. You push yourself up onto your knees and scrabble for your phone. Touya doesn't fight back to any real degree. He lets you crawl into his lap and wrestle it out of his hands, though the two of you do go tumbling back across the bed in the process. Once you've safely tossed the phone down to the other end of the bed out of his reach, you turn back to him with an irritated pinch to your features.

Touya meets your gaze easily, like a man without guilt.

"What's gotten into you?" you ask him softly, still straddling his lap. Your hands rest over his sternum, fiddling idly with the strings of his hoodie.

Touya sighs, reaching up and tugging you down to his chest before snaking his arms around your waist to keep you pressed against him. You don't try and wiggle out of his grip like he thinks that you might, instead you let him hold you, nuzzling your face into the collar of his sweatshirt.

"You're being weird," you mumble.

"No, weird would be me asking you to throw your phone away and never leave the house again so I'm the only one who gets to look at you," Touya replies, his fingers dipping under the hem of your—his—shirt and creeping up along your spine. "I'm actually being pretty normal, all things considered."

You huff out a little laugh and Touya feels the warmth of it break against the skin of his throat. You lift your face so you can look at him, and Touya admires the view of you from so close up. The curve of your lips, the colour of your eyes, the tip of your nose. He could look at you all day, he realizes then. Every part of you. Every inch and dip and curve that makes you up. He could study them. Map them out with his eyes closed, long committed to memory.

You make him feel kind of insane, sometimes. More insane than usual, anyway. He worries that he likes you too much.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask him quietly.

You.

Touya purses his lips.

It wasn't his intended goal, but he's happy to accept the little kiss you press against them anyway, a laugh slipping out of his mouth and into yours before you pull away. He shuts his eyes, letting his head tip back against the bed again, letting out a long, exhausted breath.

"Wanna help me set up an instagram account?" he finally mutters after a long stretch of silence.

You push yourself up overtop of him, and when he cracks one eye open he finds you looking down at him excitedly.

"Really?" you ask him incredulously, but undeniably pleased by the prospect.

He nods a bit, pulling you back down against his chest. He lets his eyes shut once more.

If deleting your account is out of the question, he might as well have his own so at least he gets to admire it.

You wiggle comfortably in Touya's hold, your TV show long forgotten at the other end of the bed, content to just let your boyfriend trace lazy circles into your thigh as your legs tangle together with his.

Touya's eyes pop open again suddenly, an unpleasant and not-so distant memory rushing back to him.

Your gaze meets his own, a quiet concern swimming behind it.

He takes your face in his hand.

"How do you block someone on Instagram?"

[ihave-atummyache]

u still love me?

Stray Kids OT8 Imagine

NSFW!! 18++

summary: if you’re feeling down, you can always count on your sweet boy to reassure you.

4.6k words

Bang Chan:

Our sweet, touchy boy. The best way he reassures you is just putting his hands any where he can reach. He'll rub and touch you all over, hoping to ease your mind. He finds comfort in touching you just as much as you find.

When you let out a sigh from your spot behind Chan, he immediately pulls his other headphone off his head and turns towards you. You're on your phone, zooming in and out of a picture.

He glances over at the other producer in the room with him. He has both headphones on and Chan can faintly hear the tune of the song they’re working on playing. He looks back over to your slumped frame, a deep frown between your brows.

"Whatcha up to?" his voice breaks you from your thoughts and you jump, looking up at him. You put on your best smile and shake your head at him.

"Nothing," you thought you were much more convincing than you actually were but nothing gets past your overly observant and absolute sweetest boyfriend.

"Then why do you look like you're about to burst into tears at any moment?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at you. You can't tell him it's because you are so you clear your throat and look down again as you feel the tears well up.

"It's just..." you pause, swallowing the lump in your throat before glancing down at your phone screen again. "Do you think I'm too... big?" you question, quietly and Chan straightens up, turning to the producer who is in the room with him. He taps his shoulder before asking if he minds if he steps outside for a moment.

There was no hesitation from your boyfriend at all. He never wants to hear you talk about yourself like that and wants to be sure that that is perfectly clear to you.

In an instant, Chan stands and walks over to you, putting both hands out in front of him and pulling you to your feet. He guides you into the vacant hallway and turns, leaning against the wall beside the two of you. He crosses his arms over his chest and gives you a once over.

Your insecurities immediately creep back up and your arms rush to cross over your chest, however, your boyfriend grabs your arms, pulling you closer and wrapping them around his own waist. You let yourself melt into the embrace as Chan places a kiss to your forehead then wraps his arms tightly around you.

You let out a sigh and pull yourself even closer to your boyfriend. His scent and body heat are enough to help your mind from swarming for at least a moment.

"You do realize that you are the smartest, most talented, beautiful, and amazing person I have ever met, right?” He asks the question like its the most obvious question and you pull away from the hug to look at him.

A blush creeps up his ears but he still holds eye contact. This time, a real smiles slowly makes its way to your face, which he mirrors before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your nose then your lips.

“Feeling a little better, baby?” he questions, his hands still rubbing up and down your back. He’s gentle but precise, knowing exactly where you always get knots at and rubbing a little harder in those spots.

You nod and he leans in again, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He stay against you for a moment too long, groaning. He finally pulls away and locks eyes with you.

“And you drive me absolutely crazy. I want you every moment of everyday,” he brushes a hair away from your face before slowly trailing a hand down your arm.

He grabs one of your hands and pulls you back into the studio. He guides you back to where he had been sitting. Before you can protest about being distracting, he’s pulling up a chair next to his recording chair and gently guides you to sit next to him. He smiles at you once more before picking his headphones back up and putting them on his head.

He blindly reaches over to you as you pick your phone up again, rubbing up and down your thigh and playing with your fingers resting there, offering you physical touch and easing your worries.

Lee Know:

Okay, let me preface this by saying that the man is a Scorpio. One of his favorite and most effective ways of reassuring you is making absolutely toe curling, amazing love to you. He's worshipping you and complimenting you the entire time.

That man knows how to freak it and is so in tune with your mind and body that it’s like he already knows exactly what you need to hear before you even tell him.

He’ll notice you staring at yourself a little longer than usual and will be sure to tell you that you look beautiful. He’ll notice you fidgeting with your hair too much and will compliment it or ask if you did something different. He’s just very aware of you.

He wants you to know that he wants every square inch of your body even if you don't like it yourself. You're a gift from heaven in his eyes and he wants to prove it to you.

"O-okay, baby, okay," you whimper out, yanking your boyfriend's hair to pull him from between your thighs. He looks up at you, his chin and mouth wet with you but he makes no effort to actually move from his spot.

"Okay? I'm just getting started, pretty," the smirk on his face sends chills down your spine and he gently kneads at your plush thighs.

"How many more times should I make you cum before you realize how perfect you are?" his voice is muffled when he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh.

"Just taste so good…" he mumbles mindlessly against your skin, his tongue darting over your hip and sucking a small mark there, "Smell so good," he inhales deeply as he finally makes his way up your body to make eye contact with you.

"You were fucking made for me," he rubs the head of his cock through your soaking folds before sliding in, "F-fuck. Even this pussy was made to take me," he slides out slowly before leaning in and pressing a sloppy, wet kiss to your mouth.

"I don't ever want to hear you making those comments about yourself again. It's an insult to me too," he mumbles against your lips as you nod, mindlessly.

Changbin:

Changbin is the type to be constantly reassuring you because he also needs the same kind of attention. Even if you two argue or he snaps at you or is grumpy, he is always the first to fess up to his actions and apologize. He definitely hates the idea of either of you going to bed mad at each other.

You and your boyfriend had gotten in a stupid argument. So stupid that you don't even remember what it was about in the first place. However, you’re far too stubborn to admit that.

When you walk into the kitchen, you try your best to ignore your boyfriend scrolling through social media at the dining table. His empty bowl sits in front of him, he had eaten the portion you prepared for him. You smile a little to yourself, happy that despite him being upset with you, he would never deny something you make for him.

You reach into the cupboard and place a glass on the counter. The clink of the glass hitting the granite feels like it echoes around the apartment with the tense silence between the two of you.

You pull the fridge open and pull out the water before you hear Changbin sigh and place his phone down on the table. You begin to pour your water into the glass and glance over your shoulder at him as he runs his fingers through his hair.

"Still not talking to me?" He questions and you roll your eyes before returning the water to the fridge and taking a sip from your glass. You turn to face him, leaning back against the counter top.

"Baby, I know that you're upset but I have to go record and I don't want to leave things like this," he stands and walks over to you, leaning against the island opposite from you and crossing his arms over his chest.

You take a sip of your water as you lock eyes with him, still refusing to speak.

"Even if I am upset with you, I love you. And even if you act like a little kid," he pushes off the counter and closes the space between you, grabbing the glass from your hand and putting it down behind you.

"I still love you, endlessly. You're the only person for me in this entire universe, okay?" he asks, placing a hand on either side of you, trapping you between his body and the counter.

You feel a blush rush up your neck at his comment and you can barely suppress the smile making it's way to your face. He notices and leans in, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose and poking you in the ribs at the same time. You jump and let the smile spread.

"Hey! Not fair. Tickle spot is cheating," you giggle out and he leans towards you again. You close the gap, pressing a kiss to his plump lips.

"Tell me you love me back before I die please," he speaks against your lips and you laugh at his antics, completely over the argument already.

"I also love you, endlessly," you pause and lock eyes with him again, "You big softie," the tease quickly turns into a tickle fight and your boyfriend is still late to his recording session.

Hyunjin:

Definitely the type to absolutely worship your body. Would put you in front of a mirror and point out all his favorite places to kiss, hug, touch. And, of course, would paint endless portraits of you. He might even paint directly on your body, using his favorite places as a canvas.

"I look kind of weird in that. You can see all my little blemishes and scars," you scrunch your nose up at the picture that your boyfriend is showing you.

You two had recently moved in together and you suggested that it would be cute and unique if your boyfriend were to paint something to hang in the empty space above your couch.

"First of all, you do realize that you're just raw beauty on two legs, right?" His words immediately make a blush force it's way up your neck and you bury your face in your hands.

"You can't say things like that! You're too fucking sweet!" you splutter out and peek through your fingers to look at your boyfriend. His eyes are darting around the room and around his paints and you slowly bring your hands down, tilting your head at your cute boyfriend. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.

"What's going on in that pretty little head of your's?" You tease him, taking a step towards him but he stand quickly, grabbing a few paints and a few paint brushes and guides you out of the room, towards your half assembled bedroom.

Pushed against one random wall is the huge fully body mirror you had bought. He wraps a hand around your shoulders and pulls you towards the mirror.

"Baby, what are you-"

"I'm gonna show you," he interrupts you and you turn towards him to question what the hell he means but he speaks up again before you can, "Don't move," he demands and you close your mouth, facing the mirror again.

Hyunjin approaches you and slides his hands under your tank top, pulling it over your head, leaving you in just a pair of sleep shorts.

"I love these perfect tits," he wraps both of his big hands around each of your breasts from behind, squeezing the flesh and causing a hum to fall from your lips.

His hands trail down and his nimble fingers are pulling your shorts down your legs, along with your underwear. He squats behind you as you step out of both. He presses a kiss to the back of one of your soft thighs then another to one side of your ass before standing again and looking at you through the mirror.

You're too entranced by his gaze to notice he has dipped a paintbrush into a pretty pink paint and it isn't until it touches your skin that you notice what he's doing. You jump at the cool contact of the wet paint.

"You are so insanely beautiful. I feel like the luckiest man on earth every time I lay my eyes on you," he traces a stretch mark on your hip with the paint and you gasp at the cold liquid on your heated skin. A blush rushes to your cheeks at his words and he has, once again, rendered you speechless.

"I'm going to show you all my favorite parts of you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. Your eyes glance down to where he had painted and you can make out the beginning shape of a beautiful flower, blossoming from your insecurities.

Han:

He definitely gets genuinely offended and pouty if he hears you talking bad about yourself. He views you as an extension of himself so if anyone, including yourself, talks bad about you, he feels personally attacked. He also isn't shy about reassuring you, especially if he knows that you like to hear it.

"I don't know man, I think I'll just keep trying to diet and exercise whenever I get the chance. If I could just get my waist a little bit smaller, I would be satisfied," you speak to your best friend on FaceTime, unaware of your eavesdropping boyfriend in the kitchen.

"Oh shut up. You're hot and you have a hot boyfriend who makes sure you know it too!" she exclaims with a chuckle and a half laugh leaves your lips before you roll over onto your back on the couch.

"Maybe, but still. I feel like I should look better, not just for him but for everyone. I don't want him too get too far out of my league," you joke, making you and your best friend laugh but Han frowns in the next room.

He lets you and your friend talk for a few more minutes before he can't help but enter the room to talk to you. He walks over to the couch and you tilt your head to look up at him when he stands at the end of the couch.

"Hi," you smile up at him, handsome as ever even from this angle.

"Hello, my baby," he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, making your best friend gag before she hangs up. You chuckle and your boyfriend circles the couch before settling between your legs and laying his head on your chest. He wraps his arms under your waist and your hands automatically move to the familiar position that you two are often in, his head on your chest, one of your hands in his hair, and the other rubbing his back gently.

It's quiet for a few minutes and you can tell something is up. You're a pro at Han Jisung vibe checks and his vibe is way off.

"Everything okay?" your voice is soft, chest vibrating against his cheek. He adjusts his position on the couch, before looking down at you. You wrap your arms around his neck, one of his hands gently rubbing your hip while his other elbow holds him up. His eyes dart across your face and you swallow at the unexpected attention, feeling a bit shy beneath his gaze.

"Dude, you're literally so beautiful that I want to cry sometimes. You realize that, right?" his voice is so genuine that you're actually speechless for a few seconds but he speaks up again before you can.

"I don't want to hear you talking about my lover like that ever again. You're so not out of my league. Everyone actually tells me it's the other way around," he lets a shy smile make it's way to his face and you tighten your grip around his neck, pulling his lips to your's.

"God, I fucking love you. How did I get so damn lucky?" you mutter against his lips and he chuckles, kissing you again.

Felix:

Felix will pull up photos that he has taken of you either to your knowledge or not. A little shy to bring up the photos he took without you knowing but can't stop taking them because in his eyes, you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.

He genuinely can't comprehend that you believe you have anything to be insecure about because he literally worships the ground you walk on. He tries to understand your insecurities but it’s hard for him.

"Lix, I'm gonna look terrible in that," you point at the straps on the side of the dress that he wants you to try on, "Those straps are gonna squeeze my rolls," you say the words without thinking much about it.

"And?" he cocks his head to the side, still trying to push the dress into your hands.

"And," you push the dress back towards him, "I'm already big enough, I don't need to look even bigger," you state matter a factly.

Once again he looks at you with that cute little head tilt, a small pout on his lips at your refusal and your comments about yourself.

"Just try it on. If you hate it, we won't get it," he tries to convince you and you sigh, turning to continue picking through the clothes on the rack.

"I'll probably cry if it looks too bad right now," your voice isn't much louder than a whisper, anybody else wouldn't be able to hear the two of you in the store.

"Why?"

"Felix." you drop your forehead to the cool metal of the rack and and let out another sigh.

"I just want to know what you mean by that. I'm not trying to offend you, just wanna understand you better is all," the tone in your boyfriend's voice shatters your heart and you look over at him, his eyes casted down to the floor.

"Baby, I'm sorry. It's just that that dress isn't going to look flattering on me," you grab his hand, intertwining your fingers, "I would gush out the sides around those straps," you point at the straps on the dress still in his other hand. 

"For some reason the thought of that is making me hard," He speaks up and you immediately slap both your hands over his mouth.

"Felix!" you scold in a whisper yell, a blush rushing up your neck. He chuckles behind your hands and you can't help but laugh along with him.

"You're a handful," you snatch the dress from him and make your way towards the dressing room.

"I'm trynna get a handful of you," he puncuates his sentence with a slap to your ass, making you laugh again.

"You're so corny," you roll your eyes as he follows closely behind you.

"You love corn," you can't object to that. When you do finally give him the satisfaction on trying on the dress, he fully convinces you that you must buy it or he will die. He doesn't even let you have an opinion, even going as far to just buy it for you!

Seungmin:

My words of affirmation boy!! He doesn't say much sappy or lovey dovey things so when he does, it's just that much more believable. You whole heartedly believe him when he drops the teasing, tsundere act and gives you a genuine compliment.

You stare at your reflection in your mirror. Your hair isn't cooperating, your makeup looks off, you don't know what to wear and you're just overall frustrated with your appearance. You had been staring at yourself for too long in the mirror and begun over analyzing your face.

By the time your boyfriend gets home from errands, you're already fighting the tears. Then he walks into the bedroom in all his perfect glory, backwards hat and flawless face and skin. In his hands is a dozen sunflowers for the vase that you keep on your vanity.

"Do you like these? I thought they were very pretty. They remind me of that time that-" he looks up from the flowers and sees the tears brimming your eyes, "Are you okay?" he immediately sits the flowers down and rushes towards you before kneeling before you and placing your face in his hands.

Hearing his worry for you is enough to have the water works flowing and before you know it, you're in a full mental breakdown in his arms. You throw yourself into him, knocking him onto his butt as you cry into his shirt.

"Shh, it's okay, baby. You're okay. You're okay," he's rubbing your back and scratching your scalp and if you were more sane, you would be listening to his heart beat and realizing just how freaked out he is. He's never seen you breakdown like this before and especially for seemingly no reason.

"Why do you even like me? You're so perfect, so beautiful, so amazing and I'm just... me," you blubber out against his shirt and he freezes for a second, realizing that you had gotten into your own head.

"I don't just like you," he pauses and grabs your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. When he locks eyes with your distraught ones, he swears he can feel his heart breaking.

"I adore you. You're the only one in the world who I can love. You've made me into a better person just by loving me," more tears pour from your eyes at his sweet words.

It's so rare that Seungmin gets sentimental like this. You prefer it that way because when you do get the privilege to hear these sweet words from him, you know he truly means it.

"Even when you have snot all over your face," he uses the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe your nose, making you chuckle through the tears, "I still think you are the most beautiful thing in the world, okay?" He finishes, brushing some hairs away from your face. You nod at him, wiping some tears away with your own sleeve.

"Uh-uh, I wanna hear you say it. You're perfection in my eyes, you got that?" he asks and you smile again at him, his eyes serious as you have ever seen them.

"Okay," you concede, feeling your spirits beginning to lift already.

"Okay, what?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at you as you sit up, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. His arms immediately wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

"Okay, daddy," you joke and he grunts in annoyance (and maybe something else) at this, rolling his eyes.

"Y/n..."

"Not the government name," you pout before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his lips, "Okay. I'm the most beautiful in your eyes," he nods in approval before kissing you once again. You wrap your arms tighter around his neck, burying your face into his hoodie. It's strong with the scent of him and you feel so lucky to be in this man's arms.

"I adore you too, by the way," you whisper against his neck and he hums in response, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

I.N:

I.N is the type to reassure you by making you realize how much he depends on you. He makes it clear that you’re important to him no matter what. He always makes you feel like your opinions and thoughts matter, no matter how stupid they are.

He loves to be your personal therapist, letting you rant and complain or ask for advice. He likes that you depend on him just as much as he depends on you.

You continue to ramble as you stir the pot on the stove in front of you. Your boyfriend is sitting at the island, his chin in his hand as he listens and watches you. He admires the way you start to fling the spoon and your hands around when you get particularly passionate about a part in the story.

He loves the way you finish some sentences with, “you know what I mean?” to make sure he’s still listening to you. He doesn’t mind that he hasn’t gotten a word in edgewise besides a “right” or “yeah” or just a hum in over 20 minutes.

His phone vibrates on the table and he looks down to see he’a receiving a FaceTime call from Chan.

“Hold that thought, babe,” he stops you and you glance over your shoulder when you hear the call connect.

“Are you hungry? I was planning to stop and get some food on the way home,” you hear Chan’s voice over the phone and turn back towards the stove.

“Ahh, y/n is here. She’s cooking and talking. I’m sure there will be enough for you if you want some,” he glances up at you and you nod in agreement. You had grown used to making food for his old roommates so you often made too much food for just two people.

“Ahh cooking and talking as usual. The lovebirds. Well, I’ll be home as soon as I wrap up here. Love you guys!” Jeongin says something else but you aren’t hearing anything.

What did he mean by as usual? Like how you’re always talking? Is it really that annoying?

“Babe? Did you hear me?” you jump when your boyfriend’s voice is much closer than you expected, dropping the spoon and splattering sauce all over the floor.

“S-sorry. I’m sorry,” you speak out, bending down to pick up the spoon but Jeongin is faster, grabbing the spoon off the floor and placing it in the sink. He grabs some paper towels and cleans the mess for you as you grab a different spoon to finish stirring.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Did it burn you?” Jeongin’s voice is full of concern when he hears you sniffle. You turn your head towards him, eyes red and tears threatening to make their way down your cheeks.

“I’m okay. It’s just… do I talk too much? I’m sorry. I always get told I talk to much. If you ever want me to stop, you can tell me to shut up or whatev-”

“Shut up,” he interrupts you and you freeze, so you do talk too much?

“You don’t talk too much, babe. Your voice is my favorite sound and I can never get enough of it. Don’t ever stop being a chatter box, got it?” he raises his eyebrows at you and you nod.

“I love hearing all your silly little thoughts and opinions, no matter how small they may be. I actually feel so antsy when you’re not around and I’m sitting in silence. Makes me realize how much I need you around. What would I do without you? I think I would die of boredom…” he trails off when he notices the smile that has grown on your face.

“Now look who is the chatterbox. It appears I’m rubbing off on you Innie. You just went on a tangent,” you tease and he pushes your shoulder, looking away from you shyly.

“Shut up,” he mumbles and you laugh again at his cute reaction.

“Can’t make me now. You already said you like to hear me yap,” you turn the cap to simmer and step towards your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You’re the cutest, y’know?” you compliment him before leaning in again and biting down on his chest.

“Hey!” he whines, swatting you away.

[chvoswxtch]

revelation

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: billy's questioning leads to more than one epiphany you weren't ready for.

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, lots of angst, billy being the shithead he is

word count: 4.2k

a/n: I know y'all were big mad at me last update. I don't know if this one makes up for it or not. but...enjoy. :) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [ next chapter] | [series masterlist]

Flickers of flesh colored light began to flash in your brain. It was as if each of your senses were rebooting one by one, your body slowly clawing its way out of the darkened abyss you’d been lost in. Murmurs of conversation and clinks of metal crept into your eardrums. While that sickly sweet artificial chemical taste lingered on your tongue, a dull throbbing was emanating from the back of your head. Trying to inhale a deep breath, a familiar strong cologne seemed to flip the switch of consciousness. 

“Ah, there she is.”

As your eyes fluttered open, you fought through the haze of disorientation, forcing your vision to clear. A blur of green approached slowly, and after blinking a few times, the fuzzy silhouette came into focus. Billy knelt down in front of you, a serpentine smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. 

Your bones felt like they were made of stone, but when you tried to move, you realized it wasn’t just a mental restriction, but also a physical one. Glancing downwards, you saw that your wrists and legs had been bound to the chair you were in with black leather straps. White hot rage struck through your nervous system like a bolt of lightning. 

“What the hell is going on?”

“You tell me.”

“I'm the one tied to a chair here, asshole.”

Billy let out an amused chuckle at your sharp snap, his dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Just a precaution, darlin’. I've seen you in action, and I like my face the way it is.”

Narrowing your eyes in resentment, your lips were set in a tight line as you clenched your jaw while simultaneously clenching your fists. Billy’s eyes flickered down to your hands before returning to your heated glare, and he let out a deep exhale through his nose. Standing up fully, he grabbed a wooden crate to his left and dragged it over towards you. After sitting down on the edge of it and folding his arms over his chest, he gave a faint nod of his head in your direction.

“I need to know what you know.”

“About what?”

“Frank and Madani.”

Pure annoyance laced with confusion quickly creased between your brows, and your exasperation was evident in your tone.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Billy. That’s what this is about? I told you I don't know anything. Okay, whatever you and Madani have Frank working on-”

Billy suddenly cut you off, snapping his fingers before pointing his index finger in your direction.

“Ah, see, that right there. Madani and I don't work together. We never have. Anvil has a contract with Homeland, but my business is with them, not her.”

Billy paused for a moment, letting those words linger in the air. He searched your face for any flicker of recognition that would give you away, but all he could see in your expression was perplexity. And that you were royally pissed off. Either you had one hell of a poker face, or you truly didn’t know anything. He was determined to find out.

“And I haven't assigned anything to Frank in almost two months, because he told me he needed some personal time to take care of somethin’. So imagine my surprise when you tell me that he’s got some business goin’ on with me and Madani.”

Every word that left Billy’s lips left you feeling confused. It was like he was single handedly ripping up the pieces of what you thought you knew regarding this entire situation with Frank. The ferocity of your anger dulled slightly, becoming overshadowed by disillusionment. 

“I…I don't understand.”

“Well that makes two of us.”

In an instant, your brain began to replay every single conversation with Frank over the last two months, trying to figure out what you were missing. You could feel in your gut that the answer was right in front of your face, but you were struggling to figure it out, and it left you feeling immensely frustrated. Dropping your gaze to the concrete floor beneath your feet, your eyes darted back and forth, like you were reading some invisible text written in the cracks.

I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’. 

It’s personal.

Those were the key phrases that kept popping up in your head. They were the ones sticking out from the rest, and your foggy brain was relentlessly trying to figure out why. Closing your eyes, you tried to shift your mindset. You had to treat this like a story. You had to walk through what you knew, sort through the pieces Frank had given you, and connect the red string on the mental evidence board in your brain.

Thinking back to the conversation where you’d confronted Frank at his apartment about his strange behavior, you willed your brain to focus on what he’d said, and how he said it.

“He…he said he had a new assignment.”

Billy had been watching you closely, paying attention to the flash of varying emotions crossing your face. He could see that you were trying to figure something out in your head, and your words made him sit up straighter. 

“What did he say the assignment was?”

You remembered Frank looking remorseful as he sat on his couch, trying to explain the situation, but he had also looked…guarded. He didn’t maintain eye contact with you the entire time, which was strange, and when he did look at you, there had been something in his eyes besides guilt. It was a flicker of something you couldn’t decipher, because he was hiding it from you. Whatever it was, he didn’t want you to see it.

“He didn’t. He just said it was personal. He wouldn’t tell me anything about it.”

“What did he tell you?”

That feeling of frustration you’d felt during that initial conversation bubbled up once again, and you let out an irritated exhale through your nose as you opened your eyes and tilted your head back to look upwards. Wherever Billy had you, it appeared to be underground. There weren’t any windows, and the fluorescent overhead lights were harsh, aggravating your sensitive eyes. You swiftly shut them again to block out the light, trying hard to conjure that memory of Frank once more.

But all you could see was your mother. The unpleasant glare above brought you back to a sterile hospital room, and instead of Frank’s deep voice, you heard the daunting beeping on the machines that had controlled her fate with their wires, and the struggle of her labored breathing. Her body had turned against her, stolen her time, but it hadn’t been able to take her feisty spirit. 

Clenching your fists, you tried desperately to escape the memory, but your mother had always been as stubborn as you were. The phantom feeling of the chilled flesh that barely covered the bones of her hand touching your skin felt so real and vivid, you didn’t know if Billy had knocked you out again or not.

Her familiar voice from one of her last good moments, exhausted with illness, but still melodic with whimsy, played in your ears.

“Can you force the tide to come back to the shore?”

A furrow of confusion had settled between your brows at her interjection, and you’d refocused your attention from the book in your hands towards her.

“Did they up your meds?”

“Ha ha ha, smartass.”

Setting down the book you’d been reading her, you smiled at ever present sarcasm, and you’d rolled your eyes playfully.

“No mom, I can’t force the tide to come back to the shore.”

“And why is that?”

There had been a glimmer of playfulness in her eyes, even though they were slightly sunken in and surrounded by dark circles. You had resisted the urge to answer literally about gravity and the moon, and instead let her continue with whatever point she was trying to make.

“I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”

She’d reached out and placed her hand on top of yours, and her skin had been so cool to the touch, felt so fragile, it had made your heart constrict in your chest.

“Because it comes on its own. You just have to be patient, and let it come to you.”

Patience had never been your strong suit, especially when it came to putting things together, or trying to figure something out. If something didn’t click fast enough, you would get frustrated and try to coerce it, to make it make sense, which usually never worked in your favor. It wasn’t until you stopped trying so hard and took a step back that you had your biggest breakthroughs. Clearly, it was a lesson you were still trying to learn.

“Y/N. What did Frank say-”

“Can you shut the hell up? I’m trying to think.”

Billy narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips when you snapped at him through your gritted teeth, but he obliged. Letting out a quiet shaky breath, you resisted the urge to give into the emotions building up behind your eyelids from that memory. You slowly unclenched your fists and relaxed your jaw. 

Quit trying to force fragments together. Focus. Let it come to you.

Instead of rushing through the memories and waiting for the answers to pop out, you replayed them slowly, carefully analyzing over every frame, dissecting every word. Frank had been very cautious with his phrasing, but that wasn’t a coincidence. 

I’m helpin’ Madani with somethin’. 

Madani gave me some intel. 

Madani needed someone she could trust.

“He said that he was helping Madani-”

Madani. Frank said he was helping Madani. Not once had Frank mentioned Billy. He had only ever said Dinah’s name. 

Opening your eyes, you slowly lowered your head, looking straight forward at Billy. He arched one of his dark brows, an expectant look on his face.

“Said he was helpin’ Madani with what?”

For a moment you stared at Billy in complete silence. Something wasn’t right. As soon as you had let it slip in your office that Frank was working with Madani, Billy had physically reacted. There was something that had flashed in his eyes, darkening them to momentary blackness. His voice was cold when he’d questioned you about it, almost…angry. You’d initially thought it was because he thought you knew something you weren’t supposed to about Frank’s “assignment”. 

But now you realized it was because he didn’t know about it.

“Why didn’t Frank tell you?”

There was unmistakable suspicion in your voice, and it visibly caught Billy off guard. He narrowed his eyes slightly, cocking his head to the side as he looked at you.

“That’s what I’m tryin’ to figure out.”

Frank hadn’t mentioned anything about what he was doing with Madani to Billy, his best friend. The man he served side by side with for years, had formed a brotherhood with, who he had considered part of his family. That made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and a dreadful chill straightened your spine. He hadn’t been able to tell you exactly what was going on, but he’d at least given you something. 

Frank had mentioned owing Madani a debt, but he was loyal to a fault, and the fact that he hadn’t told Billy set off warning bells in your head. But Billy’s extreme reaction to being purposefully left in the dark was what set your nervous system ablaze with unease. 

The idea of Frank working with Madani without his knowledge seemed to set Billy off, triggering a volatile chain of events. He’d drugged you, kidnapped you from Curtis’ apartment, was essentially holding you hostage, and now he was interrogating you to figure out what you knew. 

One of Frank’s cryptic explanations abruptly parted through the lingering clouds of fogginess in your brain, shedding a blinding light on the most important piece that had been hidden in the shadows of your subconscious. 

“Oh my God.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper and shrouded in disbelief.

It’s connected to someone I know.

You remembered how Frank had stiffened when he’d said that, how his face had hardened to stone. His voice had been quiet, layered with an ominous undertone and barely concealed vitriol. He’d nearly morphed into a man you didn’t recognize right in front of your eyes, and it had made you shiver with discomfort.

And suddenly it clicked. Betrayal. That cold flicker in his eyes he tried to hide was betrayal.

“It’s you.”

Billy watched as the canvas of your face morphed into a portrait of realization and horror.

He visibly stiffened at those words, his lips pressing into a firm line, emphasizing the sharpness of his jaw. 

Billy. All of this was because of Billy. Whatever Madani had found, it was connected to him. That’s why she brought it to Frank. Little moments started to stand out in your head that made you wonder just how long ago Madani had planted the seed of doubt in Frank’s mind. Looking back, he’d acted strangely when you’d mentioned Billy’s name recently, but it was so subtle that you hadn’t even picked up on it.

But him being adamant about leaving you with Curtis, someone you’d never even heard about or met until yesterday, should've been a huge clue.

Knowing that what was causing the divide between you and Frank was none other than the man currently standing in front of you and whatever he had done, you were swiftly filled with an anger that turned your blood molten. Your disbelief and horror slowly hardened into a wall of ice, but your eyes were aflame with resentment.

“What did you do.”

It wasn’t a question, it was an accusation, and the way you grit it through your teeth demanded an answer. Billy’s eyes showed no hint of remorse, and he made no attempt to correct whatever conclusions you were drawing in your head in regards to his character. He rose to his feet, taking a step forward to tower over you, staring down into the flames of rancor blazing in your eyes with a steely gaze of his own. 

“I made something of myself.”

His voice was crisp and clear. There was no layer of apology, no waver of regret. Whatever he’d done, Billy felt justified in it. 

His arrogance had always pissed you off.

Slowly tilting your head to the side, you stared up at him in clear challenge, your tone razor sharp and dripping with venom.

“Yeah? What did it cost?”

The edge of his mouth twitched at your taunt. Grabbing your wrists that were strapped down to the arms of the chair, he leaned forward, getting right in your face as he spoke in an aggravated tone.

“I wasn't handed nothin’. I had to earn everything I got. I had to make some tough decisions along the way, maybe did a few things I'm not so proud of. Empires aren’t built without sacrifice.”

One of the last things Billy had said to you that day in your office when you’d mentioned Frank working with Madani was that some secrets were better left buried. That choice of phrasing left you with a gut feeling that it wasn’t what Billy had left buried, but who. 

“But you didn’t sacrifice anything, did you Billy? No…you sacrificed someone, and it’s come back to haunt you. So who was it? Someone important to Dinah? Or to Frank?”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

Billy snapped, suddenly getting defensive. His dark brown eyes had eclipsed into pools of disdain, and his lips were twisted into a faint snarl.

“I’m not lettin’ that bitch destroy everything I built.”

Rising to his full height once again, Billy’s expression shifted back into a passive and more controlled one as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“I’m gonna send Frankie an invite to do a little trade, you for whatever he’s got.”

Letting out a dry scoff, you shook your head as you stared up at him.

“You’re really more concerned about losing your wealth than your best friend?”

“If he digs too deep, he’s gonna find somethin’ he ain’t gonna like, and the war he waged on New York is gonna look like a fuckin’ daydream compared the nightmare he’s gonna bring to my doorstep.”

Billy’s words seemed to pour over you like a bucket of ice, your fiery rage fizzling into frozen perplexity.

“War on New York? What are you talking about?”

Billy’s eyes flickered up from the phone in his hand, meeting your confused gaze. He arched one of his dark brows, looking at you curiously. 

“Oh c’mon, you haven’t figured it out yet? You’re a clever girl. You didn’t put together the pieces I gave you?”

“What pieces?”

“The gift I left on your desk.”

The file. The one that had Frank’s name on it. You’d had a sneaking suspicion Billy was the one that left it, but you never asked him about it, or paid it any attention after your argument with Frank. A furrow of annoyance settled between your brows.

“I never read it.”

Billy seemed genuinely surprised by that, and also confused.

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t my business, and Frank found it anyway and took it.”

He eyed you silently for a moment before slipping his phone back into his pocket and sitting back down on the edge of the crate. Billy cocked his head to the side slightly.

“He tell you how his family died?”

Immediately, you went rigid. A wave of emotions crested within you. The recollection of Frank’s vulnerability in opening up about his tragic loss was fresh. It wasn’t something you’d forget anytime soon, or ever. Hearing the grief in his voice, seeing the pain in his eyes; the worst day of Frank’s life was seared into your memory as deeply as the memory of your own. Billy bringing it up so casually incensed you all over again.

“Why does that matter?”

Billy let out a deep exhale of irritation through his nose at your defensive tone. 

“Did he tell you how they died?”

He repeated his words in a more firm voice, holding your heated gaze.

“Yes, you dick. What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Instead of being angry at your insult, a smirk curled at the edge of Billy’s mouth. There was a wicked gleam in his eye, and it filled you with a sickening feeling of foreboding. 

“Pop quiz, sweetheart. Who were the three gangs the Punisher took out?”

Bewilderment wiped any lingering emotion from your face. Billy’s question seemed to send a shock through your brainwaves, causing a delay between it and your mouth.

“What?”

“C’mon, this is an easy one. You wrote an article about the guy. Who were they?”

Billy’s eyes twinkled with amusement under the harsh fluorescents, clearly enjoying knowing something you didn’t. He was taunting you, and despite knowing better than to give into his little game, your curiosity got the better of you.

“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the Mexican Cartel.”

Billy’s lips spread into a pleased smirk at your reluctant answer, and he gave you a faint not of his head.

“Good girl. Now, you had a uh, mentor, at the Bulletin. Ben, right?” 

The mention of Ben’s name sent a pang through you, but Billy’s sudden switch in topics from the Punisher’s victims to Ben gave you mental whiplash. He didn’t give you more than a second to react before he continued.

“He wrote an article a few years ago about a little shootout, ended in a massacre. Remind me, where was that?”

Anxiety shot through you, making every single hair on your body stand to attention. 

“Central Park.”

“And there was one survivor. What was his name?”

The apprehension you felt was evident in the way you lightly gripped onto the arms of the chair. You hadn’t known that answer when Ben originally worked on that article, but you knew it now. Trying to keep up the strong front you were putting on, you attempted to keep your voice even.

“His name was never released.”

“No, it wasn’t. But when he woke up from that coma and found out his entire family had been killed in that shootout, he sure as hell made sure that New York would never forget the one they gave him.”

Billy watched the way your expression transitioned from translucent coolness, to perplexity, and finally wary hesitance. Keeping his eyes locked on you, he slowly rose from the crate, stalking towards you, but instead of coming to a stop in front of you like he had earlier, he began to circle you like a predator. 

“Tell me sweetheart, who was there that day?”

“Why does that-”

“Just answer the question.”

Letting out a sharp exhale through your nose, you began to rattle off the details you remembered from the article.

“The Dogs of Hell, the Kitchen Irish, and the-”

Immediately, you froze. Billy came to a stop behind you, and you could almost feel the way he was staring at the back of your head intensely.

“And?”

His voice was calm, but you could detect a hint of amusement. He was enjoying this, forcing you to solve his little riddle. But this time, you didn’t want to put the pieces together. You didn’t want to solve this puzzle. You wanted to run away from it. 

“The Mexican Cartel.”

The words were barely a decibel above a whisper when they left your lips, but in the silence of the space, they seemed to roar in your ears. Your hands were now gripping the arms of the chair so tightly that your knuckles had gone stark white, the flesh stretched taut over the bone. 

Feeling Billy’s hands settle on your shoulders, you flinched, and he squeezed them roughly in response. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your neck as he bent down to speak directly into your ear.

“What’s his name?”

Billy was a master manipulator. He was toying with you, trying to get a rise out of you by messing with your head. That’s all this was. It was a cruel trick, trying to make you think that the man who had single handedly wiped out the three largest gangs in New York City was the John Doe from the hospital. The he was-

“C’mon, you’re a smart girl. I can see the gears turning in your head. You know his name. Tell me who the Punisher-”

“The Punisher is dead.”

The sharpness and volume of your voice seemed to echo around the space you were currently trapped in. 

“Dead, huh?”

Billy gave your shoulders another firm squeeze before letting go and appearing in front of you again. He looked down at you, taking in the way your eyes were wide open, your breathing had become ragged, and your nails nearly bled from digging them into the wood of the chair so hard. He knelt down in front of you, brushing your hair away from your face, causing you to flinch at his touch, which seemed to annoy him.

He ran his hand through the strands of his raven hair, pushing it back into its perfectly gelled style as he let out a deep exhale through his nose and glanced around absentmindedly.

“He should be. Shoulda died a long time ago. Hell, that bullet to the head shoulda put him down for good. But that stubborn son of a bitch just refuses to die.”

Shutting your eyes, you could see Frank in the cabin. The golden sunlight coming through the window, shining on his tan skin. His warm brown eyes locked on yours, making you feel like he could see right into your soul. The roughness of his calloused palms stroking your cheek while tucking your hair behind your ear. The velvet baritone of his voice echoing in your ears.

We uh…we were at Central Park. We had this uh…this tradition, ya’know. Every time I came home from a tour, we’d pack a picnic and go, make a whole day of it. 

I don’t uh…I don’t remember when the shootin’ started.

I…made peace with it, ya’know…laid it to rest in my own way. 

It was there. It was right there. Frank had inadvertently told you the truth that day, and you hadn’t even realized.

Billy could see the revelation you’d had when you opened your eyes. He could see the evidence of the truth shining along your bottom lash line. You were so thunderstruck by your epiphany, you didn’t budge this time when Billy reached out to brush a stray tear away from your face.

“Nah, he ain’t dead sweetheart. He's been right by your side this whole time. And when he finds out I've got you, he’s gonna come for you.”

It didn’t matter what Frank had found on Billy. As soon as he found out what Billy had done to you, he was coming. But it wasn’t Frank who was coming.

It was the Punisher.

tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawksfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress

[demonvibez]

Oooh there's this scenario I've had in my mind for a while now //0//0// Its pretty generic I think but... Beelzebub + using food during sex.... It's kind of cheesy but like,,, it's so hot too. whipped cream ON his favorite human?? They both taste divine in their own right, but both at the same time?? Sinful.

A/N: not cheesy at all! I think a lot of us would enjoy this scenario. 😈 hope y'all enjoy this drabble, lemme know if you'd like more! ♡ Rating: Explicit (MDNI) Tags: food play, chest play, oral sex, fem anatomy, penetration mention

It all starts out innocently enough, as it normally does when hanging out with your boyfriend. You find him in the kitchen once again, cruising the cupboards for a midnight snack. You surprise him with a few snacks in a hidden drawer of the fridge, and pull him back with you to your room. You can't sleep anyway, so why not indulge?

And while Beelzebub is normally content to munch away on whatever snacks you relinquish to him, instead he intently watches as you enjoy your own food. Do you even know how seductive you're being? The way you lick the whipped cream off of your fingers, the way your eyes roll back a little at the taste. He can't help but for his mind to be clouded with ideas on how he can make your eyes roll back...

Suddenly, a dollop of whipped cream falls down your chest, dripping its way between your breasts. Before you can even reach down to wipe it off yourself, you can feel Beelzebub's tongue gently licking it off of you. Savoring it like a rare treat, the moan he lets out at the taste stirs desire deep within you.

"-Tastes'damn good," he mumbles against your skin as his lips continue, searching for more. He needs to taste more of you, all of you - another shade of his Gluttony taking over. You pull away, only to quickly pull off your top and spray a little bit of the whipped cream onto your nipple. With a mischievous smirk and lustful eyes, you press your breast back to Beel's lips - which he eagerly accepts. The feeling of him swirling your nipple around his tongue has you gasping out tiny little whimpers and moans, eliciting Beel's already aroused cock to grow impossibly harder. He'd love nothing more than to relieve his aching cock right now, stretching that pretty little hole of yours and filling you up with his own cream - but his sin has another idea, for now.

In almost an instant, Beel pulls away from you, only for him to grab the waist of your shorts and rip them off with your underwear in one fluid motion. He snatches the bottle from your hand, a slight shiver going up your spine as he sprays it onto your sex. The moan that escapes your lips as he licks the cream from your clit is loud enough to leak into the hallway - but neither of you care. 

Sweeter than Celestial sugar, he can't get enough of the taste. His favorite human on his tongue, drizzled in the sweetness of the cream - so heavenly, and yet so sinful. Although the more he continues, the more he realizes he prefers to taste only you. He discards the can, his focus never leaving - he is beyond ravenous, and only you can satiate his hunger. His moans rumble deep into your core, the tension within you building as he devours you. Another few swirls of his tongue send you over the edge, euphoria washing over your body as he eagerly laps up every last drop.

And without even the slightest pause, the Avatar of Gluttony continues on, happily sucking on your sensitive cherry as you writhe in pleasure underneath him. Overstimulated after your first climax, you beg and whine, your mind a mess as you grind against his face for more. You just need him inside of you right now, but he just can't find the willpower to pull himself away...

You are addictingly delicious, and Beelzebub will not be stopping until his appetite is fully satisfied.

· demonvibez ♡ 2024 · do not copy, repost or modify · · comments, reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

[tokkiwrites]

summary: You're caught off guard when Wade calls you 'puppy'. He's even more shocked when he realizes how much it actually affects you in all the right ways. tags: pwp, established relationships, afab reader, pet play themes, degradation, dry humping, choking, cum eating, masturbaton (m receiving). /ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ happy spookytokki kinktober!! my first deadpool fanfic yay!!! its kind of short, only 1.8k words but i hope you enjoy this nonetheless. not betad!

The soft glow of the TV flickers across the living room, casting shadows on the walls as you curl up next to Wade on the couch. The evening is unusually quiet, a break from the chaos that follows him around like a storm, something you'd gotten used to. His arm is draped gently over your shoulders, and your head rests against his chest, the steady rise and fall of his breathing making you feel safe, even when you know that quiet never lasts long with Wade. he keeps you safeㅡ you just wish he'd keep himself too.

Wade was flipping through channels with a practiced boredom, sighing dramatically every few seconds. “How is there nothing on TV? Hundreds of channels, and I still can’t find anything to keep my superior intellect entertained.”

You roll your eyes, leaning over to steal a piece of popcorn from his bowl. “Maybe because you’ve seen every movie that involves crazy inhuman acts at least ten times.”

“Or,” he says, pointing at you with mock seriousness, “they just don’t make ‘em like they used to. I mean, where’s the drama? The art? The—” He pauses, turning to look at you with a grin. “I’m just kidding. I’m way too distracted by your cute face to care about movies right now.” and you can't help but blush. it felt stupid, but he made you feel like you were a teenager in love all over again.

Wade shifts beside you, stretching his legs across the coffee table with a satisfied groan. “Ah, domestic bliss. You, me, questionable snacks, and the delightful sound of my own voice,” he says, breaking the silence. “Does it get any better than this? No bullets, no explosions… I’m practically a whole new Wade.”

You smile, leaning into his shoulder, the smell of his cologne and a faint trace of gunpowder still clinging to him. “You sure you’re okay with a quiet night in? I mean, I know you’ve got that... thing where you need constant action.”

“I am fully committed to this lifestyle,” Wade declares, patting your leg as if sealing the deal. “I’ve already planned out our entire evening: sit, snuggle, snack, snarky commentary, and then maybe I serenade you with my totally above-average karaoke skills. You’ll swoon, I’ll catch you, and we’ll live happily ever after. It’s like a Hallmark movie, but with better one-liners.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head at his antics. “Swooning’s a big maybe. And since when do you plan things?”

“Since I started dating a woman who demands excellence,” he says, giving you a dramatic, exaggerated wink. “I’m a changed man, baby. No more flying by the seat of my pants… unless those pants are on fire. Which, you know, happens more often than you’d think.”

"Let's just watch the movie, Wade." You whisper softly whilst planting a gentle peck on his lips.

A few minutes later, the credits of some random action movie roll on the screen, and you stretch, deciding to get up and grab a drink from the kitchen. “Do you want anything?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.

Wade leans back into the cushions, folding his arms behind his head. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks, puppy.”

You freeze mid-step, your hand gripping the edge of the counter, the word clinging to you like a spell. puppy? Your heart skips a beat, and you can feel the warmth creeping up your neck to your cheeks. The way it rolled off his tongue, like he didn’t even realize he’d said it, but it hits you harder than you’d like to admit, making your core burn up in an instant.

Turning around slowly, you glance at him, but Wade is staring at the TV, completely unfazed, as if calling you ‘puppy’ is the most normal thing in the world. “what did you just call me?” you ask, your voice coming out quieter than you intended, the heat washes over you.

Wade raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a smirk. “Huh? Oh, puppy? Yeah. What, you don’t like it?” He stretches his legs out a bit more, clearly enjoying the fact that he’s caught you off guard. You feel your face get even warmer, and you stammer, “I—I didn’t say that. It’s just… I didn’tㅡ” you stumble and get tangled in your own words.

His smirk grows, and he tilts his head as if he’s just made the most fascinating discovery. “Oh,” he says, drawing out the word. "you don’t mind it, huh, puppy?" Your stomach flips at the way he says it again, with just enough teasing in his tone to send your nerves into overdrive. You quickly busy yourself with grabbing a glass of water from the kitchen, hoping he won’t notice how flustered you’ve gotten.

But Wade is Wade, and of course, he notices. He’s grinning now, watching you with amused eyes as you awkwardly sip from your glass. It's like he can smell it on you. “You’re so cute when you’re all flustered, you know that?” he adds, still teasing. “Should I call you ‘puppy’ more often?”

You shake your head, trying to will away the blush on your cheeks, but you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “No… I mean, maybe. I don’t knowㅡ I'm sorry, it's weird." he laughs, sitting up and pulling you back down onto the couch beside him. “Too late." he chirps, voice dropping down an octave.

You bury your face in your hands, trying your best to ignore the growing wetness in your panties. "Maybe I'll get you one of those cute collars, with a bell...make you crawl on all fours around the house, hm?" you let out a shaky breath, mumbling a soft 'Wade' as his hands snake around you and up your back, his rugged palm finally in your hair. "You'd want that, huh? be my good little puppy." the ringing in your ears picks up, heart running wildly in your chest as a hursh tug of you locks pulls you off of wade. "Show me."

"Whㅡ?"

"Show me you're a good pet, baby. Show me you deserve to have me as an owner." oh, and how your pussy flutters at his words, eyes wider than before, pupils fully blown out and lips puffy from how much you've bitten them. "You wanna make me proud, right?" you let yourself play his little dirty game, arousal coating your very being. "Y-Yes?"

"Yeah? Get down. On your knees, c'mon." You quickly obliged, not wanting to waste any more moments. the way his eyes scanned you, top to bottom as you kneeled in front of him, as if waiting for a treatㅡ it drove him mad.

"I want you to hump my leg." you choke a bit on your own breath. "Wade whatㅡ?" but he quickly shuts you up with a gentle slap to the mouth with the back of his hand. "Do dogs talk? I don't think so...They take orders and do as they're told." you gulp the knot in your throat, wades dark voice making each hair stand up on your body. something about this was so exciting, so new.

you hesitate at first, but with a few breaths in you scoot yourself over so that your clothed cunt is now directly on top of his foot, the sudden pressure on your swollen bud making you whimper. wade can't help but smile seeing you like this. his hand reaches out to the other end of the couch where a leather belt laid for the past few days. in a few moves the accessory is wrapped snug around your throat, with wade holding one end of it.

"Look so pretty like this, puppy. Go on now." he motions you to move. you slowly start rocking your hips, your knees already aching from the rough carpet underneath you, but the pain hurt so good mixed with the friction and heat from your underwear. the belt tightened as wade pulled on it, earning a soft gasp from you. "Faster, show me you want it."

and show you do. in a few second your speed picks up, breasts bouncing as you chase your high. your eyes are teary, vision blurry and mouth wide open as you gasp for air. the belt was digging into your skin, you knew you'd be bruised for the next few days, but you didn't care. "Open your mouth, pup." You're quick to obey, and the moment your lips part wade leans in closer only to spit right onto your lulled out tongue. "Swallow." he's stern and rough with his words and actions, leaning back as he watches you fuck yourself onto his leg. he enjoyed seeing you like this, nothing behind your eyes, just the thought of pleasing him. "You look so dumb right now, baby." he laughs, tugging harder at the belt. "I thought i needed to get you cockdrunkㅡ turns out i don't even need to give you any dick. there's literally nothing else in that small puppy brain of yours, huh?"

you whine and whimper as you feel your orgasm near, wades words only amplifying that feeling. you couldn’t even form a sentence. you didn’t even try. it felt perfect like this, at his feet. "Keep your tongue out." he commands, as he reaches his hand into the boxer shorts he was wearing and pulling out his erect shaft. the tip was leaking, and you swear it was harder than you've ever seen before. wades hand wraps tightly around the base of it, and gives it a few pumps as he watches you continuously rub yourself onto him. "Poor pussy, baby. probably so needy for this cock, hm?" you mumble a few incoherent 'yes's, fingers gripping tightly at his thighs. "Want me to come on you, pup? make you clean it up after, lick it all up like the good doggy you areㅡ shit." you were so close, you could barely hold your head up anymore.

"Fuckㅡ that's right, pup, earn it. Earn my come." he groans, stroking himself, veins pulsing, hips bucking up into his hand. your moans fill the room, the fuzzy feeling in your brain getting harder to overcome. thats when you feel it ripping through you, that familiar feeling that was pulled in your core now erupting like a million fireworks. your eyes roll back as you mindlessly keep moving your body. you hear wade mutter a harsh 'fuck' before you feel warm drops fall onto your tongue, face and chest, then trickle down. you try your best to swallow whatever you can as you both sit like that, breathless for a few second.

"And I thought I had weird kinksㅡ"

"Wade!"

[syluslnd]

Hello it is me again !! Again love your writing so bad ♥️♥️♥️♥️ can I have the reader thinking sylus is cute and stare at him and he is weirded out by how she thinks he is cute and try to prove otherwise by teasing her , or another prompt that sylus so soft when she worries about him that she can’t sleep and wait at his house and try to search for him in N 109 - zone and she pumps at him and he scold her lightly that she shouldn’t get herself out of trouble

Thank u again LOVE U ♥️♥️♥️

Sylus reaction to you calling him “cute”

You're lying down in bed, feeling relaxed, eyes lazily following Sylus as he changes into his pajamas. The way he moves, with that effortless confidence, catches your attention more than usual. There's something about the contrast between his usual intimidating presence and the simple act of getting ready for bed that makes him... cute. You can't help but stare, completely absorbed in the sight of him.

Sylus, always keenly aware, notices your gaze lingering on him. He pauses mid-motion slipping off his shirt, and turns to face you an eyebrow raised in that teasing, dangerous way he does. "What are you staring at, kitten?" His voice is light, playful, as if he already knows the answer.

Without thinking, the words slip from your mouth. "Nothing... you're just so cute."

The moment the words are out, you realize your mistake.

Sylus's expression shifts in an instant. His teasing smile fades, replaced by a darker, more calculated look. His eyes narrow and there's a dangerous gleam in them, as though you've just thrown down a challenge you didn't mean to. "Cute?" he repeats, his voice lower now, like he's tasting the word, finding it absurd.

You sit up slightly, realizing the shift in the air. "I didn't mean-"

But Sylus is already moving toward the bed, his expression serious yet laced with mischief. "You think I'm cute, huh? Sweetie, you're going to regret saying that." His tone is dripping with mock offense, like he's ready to prove you wrong in the most teasing, torturous way possible.

Before you can react, Sylus pulls you onto his lap with one swift, effortless motion.

You're straddling him now, your body pressed against his and his grip is firm, leaving no room for escape. His eyes darken and his lips hover near your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers,

"Let's see how 'cute' you think I am by the time I'm done with you." One of his hands slides down, slipping inside your shorts with a practiced ease, his fingers immediately finding its way inside your panties.

A gasp escapes you, your body already reacting to his touch but he doesn't stop there. His other hand moves to your chest, cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your tank top, his thumb brushing over your nipple with maddening precision.

The dual sensations make you shudder and Sylus's lips curl into a smirk against your ear.

"Still think I'm cute, kitten?" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. His fingers move with deliberate slowness, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm but not enough to give you what you need.

You try to suppress a whimper but it's no use. Every part of you is hypersensitive, his touch overwhelming as both hands work you over at the same time. His fingers inside your panties tease and explore, sending waves of pleasure through you, while his other hand kneads your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple in time with the rhythm he's setting below.

"You're so responsive" he whispers, his voice dark and velvety, filled with satisfaction as he watches you struggle to keep control.

"Is this what cute feels like to you?" His lips brush your earlobe and he bites down gently, the added sensation making you jolt in his lap.

You try to respond but the words die on your lips as his fingers dip deeper inside of you, his pace quickening just enough to push you closer to the edge. Your hips instinctively move against his hand but Sylus holds you still, his lips grazing your neck now, planting soft, taunting kisses.

"Answer me" he whispers, his voice a mix of command and teasing. "Still think I'm cute?"

Your breathing is ragged, your body trembling against his and all you can do is shake your head, barely able to form a coherent thought. But Sylus isn't satisfied with that. He slows his movements, drawing out the sensation, keeping you on the edge just long enough to make you whimper in frustration.

"Say it" he commands softly, his voice full of wicked amusement. "Tell me l'm not cute."

You can barely manage a breathy response, your voice shaking from the pleasure he's drawing out of you. "Y-you're not cute..."

Sylus chuckles, his lips finding your throat as he rewards you with a harder, more purposeful touch, his fingers working you with expert precision. "Good girl” he purrs, the teasing tone back in his voice as he pushes you closer and closer to the brink.

[izzystizzys]

Echo’s world has gone decidedly… wobbly. Blurry. Fuzzy at the edges, and what-will-you-else. He can’t feel his fingertips, is his first thought. Kriffing overdid it on the glowing green shots, is his second.

“Holy kriff, Echo, that manhole-cover underneath you is moving!”, Fives exclaims, third. Or more like slurs into Lt. Jesse’s shoulder, who is himself moaning indistinctly into the Captain’s pauldron, who is in turn swaying back and forth gesturing at Commander Cody.

And it really is - the manhole cover, that is, once Echo stumbles off it with a shriek. Jumping up into the now open air with sudden force, steadying and then scraping across paveme-

“Are those kriffing hands?!”

In an instant, seven highly drunk pairs of fists and one blaster, courtesy of Commander Cody (the only one present who’s sober enough to be legally handling it) are aimed in a circle around the cover slowly being shuffled to the side, then the hands reaching up to palm at the edges of the hole -

- and are slowly being lowered again when two white-red painted helmets are heaved into view, along with chest-deep groaning and grunting. Two armored Corries collapse in a heap at Commander Cody’s feet, who stares down at them in open-mouthed shock.

Slowly, Echo blinks. Slowly, he raises a hand to snap his fingers in front of his face. No, still there. Slowly, Fives grabs for a piece of flank underneath his blacks and twists. Echo yelps, and slaps his hand away hard enough to hurt himself. “OI!”

“B’have, boys”, Captain Rex makes a brave attempt to slur out as he sways on his feet, still staring down at the trembling heap of armor at their feet. Whoa, Echo didn’t know they had those kinds of funky armor designs in the Guard. Very avant-garde.

“That’s blood, Ey’ika”, says Appo.

Oh.

Slowly, Hardcase raises his right foot, inching towards-

“Don’t even think about it”, Commander Cody snaps, and Hardcase’s foot whips back to the ground next to its companion. Fives chortles. “Yeah, genius, those are Commander kamas - they’d put you down in a second flat!”

“Why would two Corrie Commanders go crawling out of holes in front of 79’s, huh, genius?!”, Hardcase retorts, somewhat justly, Echo feels. Next to him, Commander Cody frowns, and kneels carefully. “Good question, trooper. Fox, can you hear me? Fox’i-“

Which is when one of the bodies - Commander Fox, Echo realizes with a shudder, The Marshall Commander Fox - convulses on the ground, and an arm rears up to nail Cody face-first with the back of a hand, sending him sprawling back into the pavement with an undignified squawk.

“Thorn”, the sad figure that is the highest decorated clone in existence groans, still faceplanted into pavement, “Thorn, I’m hallucinating Cody. Thorn, tell him to shut up.”

“Shuddup”, Commander Thorn heaves, loyally. Cody makes an affronted noise, braced back on his shebs. “Sdubid Codeh.”

Commander Fox’s visor scrapes against the ground with his nod, a sound that sends the surrounding vod’e cringing. “Yeah, you go, Thorn. You’re my favorite.” A considering pause. “Oh, kark. I need to call in medevac - Fox to Stabby, Fox to Stabby - the kriffing Narglatches are back on the lower levels.”

The Commander’s comm crackles to life, as he heaves himself over with a punched-out moan - oh, yup, that dark patch’s definitely not paint, and are those teeth marks?! On plastoid??

“I’m going to wring Senator Hliii’s neck, and then I’m going to twist him into a human kriffing meat-lasso to catch every last one of his little pets with”, sounds through Fox’s comm, who just hacks out a laughcough in response. “Pinging your location now. Where’s Thorn?”

“Pr’snt”, slurs Thorn.

“Concussed”, adds Fox, “We crawled out forty levels to behind 79’s, so no one would see us.”

Awkward silence follows.

“Uh, about that”, begins Rex, only to be interrupted by a deep groan from Fox.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kriffing kidding me! As if Cody’s ugly mug wasn’t - WHAT THE KRIFF ARE YOUR KRIFFING ARC KARKHEADS DOING IN MY HALLUCINATION, REX?!”

“Shuddup, Rex”, Thorn moans bravely.

[c-o-t-o]

Unsure if you're still taking requests, but if you *are*.... is it possible for me to rq denji (csm) x fem!reader with fluff prompt #2 leading into n.sfw prompt #6?

I Wanna Taste, Part 1

Author: c-o-t-o

Character: Denji x fem reader

CW: s.fw, character aged up, descriptive kissing scene

Misc: 714 words, Part 1 of ?? Requested by anon (cooking with them, them licking food off your lips). Thank you so much for the request! I didn’t know how n.sfw you wanted this to go, but feel free to request again and I can continue the fic with another part and make it spicier~!

About: You and Denji make your own food and dessert, but Denji wants a taste of yours.

*Do not remove info or credit from posts when reblogging or sharing!*

Denji has really been enjoying cooking with you lately. Probably because he loves to eat, and he knows that there's a delicious reward that comes with cooking alongside you. He's not always… successful when he cooks by himself. So he has really come to love doing that with you.

Dinner was simple tonight though, after a long day of working all Denji wanted was instant ramen. But you made it a little nicer by bringing home some meat and veggies you could both put in it to make it a little more substantial.

The real fun tonight though, was putting some dessert together. You brought home plain cheesecake and you both made your own slices special with some fresh fruit and different kinds of sauces. Naturally, Denji put every kind of sauce on there all mixed together like he was a mad scientist mixing together some kind of concoction. But you made yours nice and elegant with some strawberry slices and chocolate sauce.

The whole time that you're both eating your cakes, Denji looks back and forth between you and your dessert. You notice this and smirk to yourself.

“How's your cheesecake, Denji? Does it… actually taste good with all that stuff on it?” You ask with a chuckle. Denji drags his last piece of cheesecake through the pool of sauces and jams on his plate before bringing the dripping piece of goop to his mouth.

"Sho’ good,” Denji manages to say with his mouth full. "I really like all the sweet stuff you brought home to use.”

"But you even used the jelly we already had, wasn't it all too sweet?” You laugh as you bring a bite of your cake up to your mouth. Denji has stopped answering, now that his gaze has become fixated on your fork bringing pieces of cake to your mouth, like a dog jealously watching its master eat.

"Denji…? You okay?" You stop and ask him, your head a bit tilted because he looks like he's suddenly in a trance.

Denji's mouth is hanging open slightly. He swallows hard and breathes out heavily. You realize that his eyes have locked onto your lips, and he hasn't looked away from them. Although it's only been about a minute, it feels like forever, with how deeply he's been staring at them. Realizing that, you start feeling your heart flutter in your chest.

Denji grabs the corner of the table between the two of you, slowly pulling himself towards you. His eyes still locked onto your lips, oblivious to everything going on around him now, including you asking him what's wrong.

He continues to pull closer, standing up now to close the distance between the two of you. His hand reaches out, fingertips gliding up your jaw towards your cheek.

Speechless from how quickly this is all happening, you can't get the words out anymore and can only look back at Denji's lustful eyes with a hint of nervousness.

He pauses inches away from you, still breathing hard. You can hear his voice quietly, deeply panting as he tries to calm him breathing. Swallowing hard one last time, Denji cups your face with his hand and leans in to licks your lips.

Immediately, you feel a surge of body heat rush between your thighs in response. You close your eyes to savor the feeling and try to kiss Denji back.

But no, that's not quite it. Not quite what Denji was looking for. With his free hand, he grabs the corners on your lips with his thumb and forefinger, causing your lips to pout. He keeps licking them and suddenly sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You can hear his moans with your tongue in his mouth now, the vibrations traveling from his tongue to yours. Denji's tongue laps yours for a few seconds before finally pulling away from you.

You gasp for air as your mouths part, and you see Denji lick his fingers that were holding your lips. He looks you straight in the eyes, wipes his mouth with his forearm, and grins with his sharp teeth.

“You had some chocolate on your lips," Denji whispers, grabbing your chin delicately. “After seeing how good your dessert looked, I wanted to see how sweet you would taste, too."

[choerypetal]

Envy and Passion (Pt. 2) / Coriolanus Snow.

summary : this moving forward, the romantic affair of Coriolanus and you began to blossomed ever seen its first meet. with a envy for lust and power, snow is relcontless to make you officially his. with a gesture not so normal, and to perhaps have your father finally accept the two love bird's relationship.

read part one first!! : part one

english isn't my first language, so i excuse for small typo or error mistakes. ps : please don't copy my work or use it without proper credit! thank you.

Your involvement with Coriolanus Snow persisted, concealed from your father who remained oblivious to the situation. Fortunately, Snow chose to invest a significant amount of time with you in the laboratory. This arrangement included the opportunity to assist him directly under the guidance of Dr. Gaul herself. Surprisingly, it never posed a challenge for either of you. Whenever Snow felt a desire or yearned to intertwine his warm fingers with your cold skin, he didn't hesitate to express it openly, especially when you pleaded with him to do so. 

"Speak it aloud." He would insist, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the stark contrast of your dark pupils. He found this juxtaposition oddly unsettling yet captivating, especially as you exuded confidence despite the complete reversal of your family's name. Which contrasted oddly well, when you presented yourself before Snow, adopting a submissive demeanor, he ensured not to overlook it. "Say that you desire me." He commanded, and in that instant, his voice deepened. The soft gaze that he had employed earlier to pause shifted into something more intense, with his eyebrows furrowing, expressing a mix of dignity, pride, and a hunger solely for you.

Every time Snow expressed his feelings and unwavering commitment, a warmth would spread across your cheeks. "I desire you, Snow." You confessed, feeling palpitations resonating throughout your entire body, experiencing emotions previously unfamiliar to you. Despite your father's strict measures to ensure you remained free from romantic entanglements, the fear of him discovering your involvement with Snow loomed over you. Uttering Snow's name could potentially lead to punishment for both of you. However, in the present moment, neither of you cared about the potential consequences, dismissing any concerns about possible repercussions.  

Upon your confession and Snow's acceptance of your words, he reveled in the opportunity to explore every inch of your skin visible to his eyes alone. Your gentle touch on his blouse, revealing a glimpse of his chest, was met with amusement as you feigned clumsiness, as if he hadn't witnessed it before. Chuckling at your playful act, he remarked. "You know, if you were eager to see me shirtless, you could have asked from the very beginning." Despite the confidence instilled by your father, your shyness intrigued Snow. It fascinated him to witness a strong, independent woman like yourself, who, despite her confidence, found herself pleading at his mercy. And he wasn't complaining one bit. 

"All I want is to wait for the perfect moment." Was your simple declaration. Yet, Snow, with his deceptive and unconvincing response to your second confession, couldn't help but see through the charade. He knew all too well that it wasn’t just a matter of time. This realization felt somewhat absurd to him, considering that from the very start of your love affair, it was you who ensured that your skin was exposed. This time around, despite the temptation to witness another captivating display, he found himself yearning for you to admire him, to experience the same emotions he felt whenever your eyes met his. “How about we change a little bit?” 

"Change?" Your brows furrowed this time, a mix of confusion, anticipation, and eagerness, curious about what Snow had in store. After all, Snow was known for his penchant for surprises. It wasn't a coincidence that both of you were selected as Dr. Gaul's personally chosen students for her mentoring. Dr. Gaul was well aware of your relationship, and if it served to prolong the Hunger Games, she had a keen understanding of how to maintain loyalty between you and Snow. Whether the connection was romantic or not mattered little to her; as long as the two of you were working and following orders, Dr. Gaul was pleased. 

Snow reached for your fingers, and as they entwined with his, he motioned for you to sit on his lap. You complied effortlessly, well aware that whenever Snow needed a break from paperwork while maintaining focus, a call for you to be on his lap was a common occurrence. It served as a distraction, allowing him to immerse himself in the scent of your presence. Despite his internal struggle to control his obsession and resist the urge to engage in more intimate activities right there on his desk, the desire to hear your submissive murmurings and witness your eyes fixated on him alone was always tempting. However, today presented a deviation from the norm. As you settled onto his lap, his back comfortably resting against the chair, his fingers intertwined with yours, prompting to unbutton his blouse, you could only utter. "Oh..." In disbelief at his prompt actions. 

"Oops, I guess a few buttons slipped," Snow playfully admitted, revealing the subtle nature of his game. While he made it seem like his own oversight, the fact that your fingers remained intertwined with his suggested that he was not entirely innocent. It conveyed that, even if he were eager to take the blame, you were not hesitant to make his chest slightly visible. However, for Snow, it wasn't merely about a brief glimpse of his chest. He intended to shed everything – from blouse to coat – without hesitation, relishing the opportunity to hear the gasps and disapproval echoing from your own father.

A blush tinted your features, the same blush that had adorned your face during the reaping ceremony. It was a blush Snow relished, a sign that he was gaining complete control over you. Without hesitation, he took it upon himself to unbutton his entire blouse with a single hand. "It's getting a little hot, isn't it?" He casually remarked, using it as an excuse and subtly suggesting you might want to do the same if it pleased you. However, you resisted the urge to swiftly follow suit, observing as Snow confidently removed both his blouse and coat in one fluid motion. As you could’ve sworn to feel your teeth sinking the bottom of your lip. The tension between the two of you became apparent now. He wanted you. And you wanted him. 

Before he proceeded, his fingers gently disentangled from yours, trailing along your thighs as your short skirt revealed more skin, much to his satisfaction. He couldn't resist brushing it against your lips, a desire he had been suppressing since he first laid eyes on you that morning. With genuine affection, he admired the skirt he loved so much, especially paired with the Academy's uniform blouse you had deliberately made a little looser this time. He took notice when he observed your cleavage being more pronounced that very same day. 

"You can't fathom how much I've yearned to taste you. Don't pretend to be innocent, Princess. It's our little game, you know." Our Little Game. He declared, and the words echoed in your mind. However, in the midst of numerous affairs and the expression of feelings, the certainty of whether he genuinely meant it, whether his love for you was real, or if uttering your name was merely a distraction to maintain his sanity, became increasingly elusive. "Then, demonstrate your love for me.” You challenged. Without a moment's hesitation, your words caught him off guard, almost offended. "After everything I've done for you?" He countered.

You felt his lips brushed against yours, temptation of not wanting to kiss you on the spot. While you challenged him such deal, he became almost too offended by your question. Was it even obvious? Snow became a little persistent, and with his piercing blue eyes never leaving it’s gaze now his eyes began darker. Darker as his gaze became aware of his need for you. A need of you becoming his officially. And today, it was one of the few occasions he could at least do. “I will.” 

His fingers delicately cradled your face, exhibiting a hunger to explore and savor every inch of your skin exclusively reserved for him. Starting with your lips, he pressed his plump lips against yours, reveling in the intoxicating taste of your cherry balm that drove him to the brink of insanity. This obsession was so profound that whenever he encountered a blossoming Cherry Tree, it inevitably reminded him of you. Not stopping there, he proceeded to confidently grip your backside, causing your loose skirt to flutter up. The chill from the brisk lab air made you flinch in response to the sudden exposure.  

"Mine. Mine." His voice grew rougher, a tone that required a certain adaptation on your part. Your head tilted backward as you felt his lips trail down the crook of your neck, an area he longed to adorn with endless pampering and marks that, at least, could be concealed. Today, however, he made sure they were visible, intended to stoke the fires of your father's entire disdain. "Mine until the break of dawn." He declared, feeling the friction between cloth and underwear intensify, causing his arousal to surge. Snow could no longer contain himself when your soft fingers journeyed from his immaculate chest to the zipper of his pants. In a mere second, as you unzipped them, you teasingly grasped his now fully erect member and gently stroked it, bringing him undeniable pleasure. 

"If you truly mean it." You approached him with a hint of seduction, taking control of the situation. In this game of chess, Snow had anticipated that one day the tables would turn, and today seemed to be that day. "Make love to me like you've never done before. Make me moan until the sounds echo through the entire lab, risking the chance of getting caught." To Snow's surprise, he tilted his head upon hearing your bold words, realizing that the desire you expressed mirrored his own. This opportunity was rare, the only time both of you could be together. If it wasn't for your father's protection; you would feel ashamed if he were to catch a glimpse of the two of you right now. Yet, love has a way of blinding reason. 

“And make your father know, to who you belong to. Princess.” He lingered with a loving and lust of wanted to fuck you. This time although he enjoyed a quickie, he wanted to make it an experience for you, whether it was sloppy or messy. It did not mattered for the both of you, as long as Snow showed and declared his entire love for you. It was all it mattered. 

After the surprisingly enjoyable encounter, you suddenly realized the time and the fact that you had completely forgotten about a meeting with Dr. Gaul and your father regarding the Hunger Games. You began to panic. "Shit, I'm going to be late!" You exclaimed, and Snow found it oddly cute, especially since you rarely used such language in public. "Don't forget this." Even though Snow was well aware of what he was doing, you hastily grabbed anything resembling a uniform. As long as you had your skirt back on, along with the coat and blouse, it should be enough to avoid arousing suspicion. Thankfully, with your hair strategically covering the hickeys, you managed to arrive late to the meeting, running at full speed without raising any eyebrows.

Upon finally arriving, you seized the chance to catch your breath, fortunate that your father and everyone else attending the meeting were engrossed in Dr. Gaul's presentation. However, upon laying eyes on you, she couldn't help but voice concern about your uniform. "Y/N, my dear. What is this monstrosity?" Swiftly, your father's gaze shifted to you, taking note of the alteration in your uniform. The blouse, that delicately hugging your curves, now appeared slightly larger, evident in your fingers poking through its sleeves. It became glaringly obvious that it wasn't yours but Snow's. You found yourself in a deeper mess. Vaguely recalling seeing Snow casually blending his blouse with yours before leaving, you realized it was another way for him to mark you as his own—a subtle yet effective gesture, particularly if it meant provoking your father into a boiling rage. 

"And where might Snow be? He was supposed to be invited to this meeting as well," Dr. Gaul expressed her suspicion. Although you attempted to ignore your father's disapproving gaze, well aware of his concerns and mentoring about his feelings regarding Snow, you were preoccupied by Snow's unexpected actions. You weren't certain if he was indeed coming or intentionally delaying his arrival to avoid raising suspicion, only to later excuse himself for being late and have Dr. Gaul overlook his absence. “I didn’t know Snow was invited for today’s meeting…” Was all you could say, which wasn’t entirely false. 

Dismissing her concern for Snow, she accepted your response. Despite being already aware of the possible relationship between the two of you, she simply smiled at you and suggested you join the audience. As you took a seat next to your father, he noticed your arrival. Quite annoyed at least. “Next time, try to cover the marks in your neck. For the love of god, Y/N.” Shit, your father had spot Snow’s hickeys. If it wasn’t to make it worse even noticed the slight change in your cheeks as it was still showing a flushed and pink shade from the climax you had encountered prior with Snow. Instead to not disrupt any further you obliged and apologize like the good daughter you were meant to be. “It will never happen again, I promise.” But did you? 

As anticipated, Snow arrived late. Fortunately, he had the foresight to bring an extra blouse, fully intending to have you wear one of his. The expression on your father's face when he noticed the unconventional attire was exactly what Snow had anticipated. Doing his best to catch his breath after rushing to the meeting, he excused himself, saying, "Sorry, I am late." Dr. Gaul acknowledged his presence and gestured for him to sit next to you. A proud smile adorned Snow's face as he witnessed the exact expression he had expected from your father.

“Loving the uniform, sweetheart.” He casually said, whispering to your ear this time before quickly gaining his attention back to him but also making sure that you were aware of his meschibiosu little guess. 

"Shut up, Snow." He hoped to hear from you as you were about to speak up. Instead, it was your father's voice that uttered those words upon realizing that it wasn't, in fact, your uniform all this time but Snow's. Anticipating a response from you after your father's remark, Snow waited, but instead, Casca continued. "Just be a little more secretive next time." 

To your surprise, you glanced over at your father, intending to defend yourself. However, a mere gaze from him conveyed the unspoken message that if you attempted to object, he would ensure an end to the relationship. Despite his unwillingness to witness his daughter's unhappiness due to her father's unwarranted bias against the Snow family, he held on to the hope that, at the very least, Coriolanus Snow wasn't akin to his own father. Or... was your father not entirely wrong?

"We will." 

Snow's voice lingered in the crook of your neck, indicating his satisfaction with your father's newfound approval of the relationship. Finally, he felt unburdened, no longer afraid to proudly show the world that you were his and his alone.