#like just a little bit... it could be him acting weird or it could be something else entirely yknow? something more aware of certain things

[endearng]

Tie

Pairing: switch!Spencer Reid x sub!fem!reader Summary: Spencer gets unreasonably jealous of you. You let him take control to comfort and reassure him. That's what loving girlfriends do. WC: 3.6k Warnings: smut - oral (f receiving), edging, overstimulation, kinda softdom!Spencer, reader is compliant to everything he says, he's just as desperate as her, sir kink, creamp1e (i long for a better word), bondage, unprotected pinv, dirty talk (they yap), pet names, pussy slapping. Jealous Spencer deserves a warning of its own. Minors, please, do not interact. A/N: I have no excuse for myself (I'm ovulating). This is pure filth and indulgent because I was being tortured with thoughts of Spencer.

Feedbacks are always welcomed and appreciated <3 Masterlist

Subtle touches from Spencer all night had you going crazy. Well, they weren’t exactly that subtle.

During a particular conversation you were having with Rossi about Italian cuisine (you were an enthusiast, both of cooking and eating Italian dishes like nothing else existed), Spencer, who had an armed slung over the chair you were sitting on, started twirling your hair in his fingers. When you laughed at some remark about how the French people are insane for combining dairy with fish, your boyfriend pulled your hair rather crudely. You glared at him from the corner of your eye.

You got somewhat angry because it was uncomfortable for you to be that intimate around others, but his teasing worked wonders on you. Now, you wanted his touch to be bolder, thirstier, needier, just to match your own sinful thoughts and wants. Right now, Spencer was saying goodbye to Rossi, who was waiting for a cab to take him and his wife back home. Spencer's hand rested at the small of your back. The wine you sipped all through the night, combined with Spencer's bratty behavior, was now making your pussy throb with need for your boyfriend. Nevertheless, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing you all worked up in public. "Goodbye, Krystall, and again, happy birthday. Thank you for including me! It was incredible," you said to the woman, who hugged you warmly and thanked you with a smile on her face. "Looking forward to those cooking sessions you mentioned earlier," you said, a big smile on your face as you gave David Rossi a hug.

"Anytime, bellissima." He said simply as you pulled away, smile gracing his face. You held out your hand to Spencer to walk back to his car.

The nickname had struck a nerve. He wasn't jealous, no, he trusted you with his body and his soul, even if he, as a man of science, didn't believe in the latter — that's how much he loved and trusted you, and it was Rossi, for God's sake... Still, he was just another man. Another stupid, territorial man. He opened the door for you and you entered the car, giving him a peck on the lips, "Thanks, handsome."

"Anytime, bellissima," he said through gritted teeth after he closed the door and as you fastened your seatbelt, out of your earshot. He turned around to enter the car, taking the driver's seat.

You went home silently, but you could sense the heavy atmosphere between you on the way there. As you entered your apartment, he got down on his knees to take off your shoes for you. He always did it, no matter what. Apparently, acting weird was no exception to his care with you. You bit your lip, a little apprehensive to bring up the subject. "Thank you, baby," you said softly instead.

"You're welcome, darling." he said, not looking at you and taking longer than necessary in his task.

You sucked in a breath. "Okay, baby, what was that? We need to talk about it."

"What was what?"

"Just when we left the restaurant. I said thanks and you basically ignored me all the way here," you explained, even if you knew he definitely knew what you were talking about. your hand found the nape of his neck, making him look up at you. He had a guilty look on his face.

Busted.

He sighed, "I'm sorry, baby. I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I was mean." He apologized, eyes sincerely searching your form and hands reaching up to rest on the sides of your hips.

"Why did you do it, then?"

"Bellissima. You know what it means. I just got... jealous? I should be the only one complimenting you," he said, now standing at full height in front of you. Kissing your lips, hands caressing your waist, touch light as a feather, "telling you how much you mean to me," you sighed as his lips brushed the skin of your neck, "how much it drives me crazy just seeing you," he bit the sweet spot just behind your ear, "my beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. Mine."

You pulled on his hair so he could see your features. Looking him dead in the eye, with an almost angry look on your face. You wanted him to pay for everything he had done that night. "Baby, you were touching me all night, knowing that you were driving me insane. knowing you're the only one who gets to do that," you leaned in to kiss him softly. "And then throw a tantrum like the spoiled little thing that you are just because someone said a word to me? You know compliments mean nothing when it comes from someone who's not you, baby. Thought you knew better."

Silence. He looked at you like you kicked his dog. 

"Remind me, then," he retorted, looking you in the eye. "Remind me how much you're mine and mine only."

One of your favorite things about your relationship with Spencer was that, in public, your dynamic was totally different from what you were like between four walls. When you were surrounded by people, Spencer acted like a gentleman, always making sure to cater to your every whim, opening car doors, taking off your shoes for you, picking nice places to take you on dates, accepting your suggestions of what to wear — it was no coincidence that he looked a lot more styled lately, but you also loved his usual attires. It was how you met him and how you fell in love with him, after all.

But, in the bedroom (or wherever he decided to have you), it was totally different. You were compliant to everything he said, letting go of the control you had over yourself, over your relationship, over everything so he could take you to fucking heavens. You obeyed everything without so much a "yes, sir", and he fucking loved it.

He unzipped the skin-tight dress after leading you back to your shared room. He sat down on the edge of the bed, you stood before him, whose tie was loosened around his neck. "Is this all for me?" he asked as he saw what you had underneath your dress all night long, absolutely sick with the slightest idea that someone else could have that.

You sighed as he kissed your neck and trailed down to your breasts, easily unclasping your bra. "Yes, sir, all for you."

Just like clockwork, all his attention drifted to your breasts. One of his large, calloused hands held your waist securely and the other played with one of your nipples as he licked the other, his hot tongue circling the nub, making you whimper and sending a rush of wetness through your core. "mmm, always need my mouth full of you, angel."

"nnngh, it feels so good."

He smiled on your skin, biting your nipple afterwards. The sting made you see stars and desperate to feel him in some sort of way, you'd take anything he had to offer you. You just needed to be touched. As he continued your ministrations on your breasts, switching from one to the other, you moaned, your hands finding his hair. "Sir—ah—, can you please—touch me?"

He stopped his movements and looked up at you, laughing mockingly. "Is that all it takes, pretty? A few minutes of my mouth on you and you're already so pliant? So eager for me to touch you?"

"Yes, sir. I need you so bad."

"Tell me, then," he scoffed, "where do you want me to touch you?"

Your incoherent babbles meant nothing, so he just laughed at your poor attempt at an answer.

"You're so good at begging, aren't you?" You nodded, licking your lips with the sight of his wet ones. "Wanna kiss me, baby?"

"Always do. Can I?"

"Yes, you can." No matter how dominant he was, he could never deny you a kiss.

You leaned down to kiss him. The brush of your lips alone made Spencer crazy, craving more and more. He could spend hours just kissing you, never getting tired of the mind numbing sensation it had on him. You deepened the kiss, your tongue caressing his, earning a moan from his end. You smiled. "I love kissing you." You whispered as you barely pulled away, breathless.

"I know you do, pretty."

His hands trailed on the sides of your body, earning a shiver from you. Just as he reached the hem of your panties, they traveled up again, grazing the skin of your arms instead. As he found your hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze. He stood up and looked down at you, in for another kiss. "You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned. His words only spurred you further. "Take off my shirt. Slowly." he commanded. And you complied, taking every chance to brush your fingers against his hot skin, desperate to rake your nails on his chest, to make him shiver for you, too.

Spencer turned you around gently so you could see yourself in the big mirror placed in front of the bed. You watched as he pushed your hair out of his way, resting it on your left shoulder to give him access to your neck, his hands finding your breasts so he could play with them, too. He started with light kisses on your neck, lips barely brushing the area, making goosebumps soon erupt on your skin. His caresses got gradually more aggressive, making you blatantly moan his name when he bit the sweet spot behind your ear and grinded his clothed dick against your ass. You whimpered, overwhelmed with so many stimuli.

Turning you to face him, again, he sat you on the edge of the bed, covered only by your underwear in front of him. You could see the tent in his pants and you were desperate to taste him, to take him in your mouth in order to make him as crazy as he made you. God, the things you'd do to hear him whimper like he knew you loved to hear...

"Thinking about something, angel?" He chuckled, mocking you yet again when he saw what were you looking at and the position you put yourself in: cunt in full display after you placed both feet at the edge of the bed.

You nodded violently. That was how you always found yourself pleading for him. It didn't take much, honestly. "Please, sir, I'll do anything. jus', please, let me feel you,"

Anything...

"Aw, pretty, you're so desperate for me," his tone was condescending. "thought you'd wanted someone else for a moment tonight."

"No! No! Never, sir. Never. I only want you. I only want you to touch me."

Leaning down, his fingers raked over your stomach, ghosting over the fabric of your panties. Spencer groaned as he touched the wet patch on your underwear, glistening, begging for attention.

"'s just how much I want you..."

"Look at you, angel, begging me to have my way with you," he sneered, "so pretty..." he muttered, getting down on his knees.

Through your soaked underwear, Spencer caressed your mound and outer lips, almost as if he was drawing your cunt from scratch, tracing every single feature, making it cling even harder to the garment. Each touch made you feel eager. Want something, say something, right?

He teased you for what felt like hours, but when you were finally able to form a sentence, he pushed your panties to the side and he moaned lowly at the sight of you. "Spence—sir..." You started, but were cut by a breathless grunt that raked through you as he licked a broad stripe on your slit.

"You are soaked, princess, had to have a taste of you... you were sayin'?"

"Please, don't stop, sir," your hands flew to his hair, trying to push him back to what he had started.

"Nuh-uh, princess," he tsked, gathering his tie from the floor, "You don't deserve to touch me after the little show you put up today. I’m gonna have to tie you up, alright?" 

There it was. Your punishment.

One thing about Spencer is that he always made sure to tell you whatever he was planning on doing with you, both so that you could say no if you wanted to and also because it turned you on beyond limits. It made your heart soar, he was so careful with you, making every man on earth seem like straight up Neanderthals. You whined at his plan as he looked at you to see if you were okay with the idea.

You jutted your lip out, brows furrowing, but you couldn't disagree with him. Adorable, he thought. He tied both of your hands behind your back, using his fucking tie. "... Yes, 's alright. I jus' wish I could touch you so badly," you complained.

"I know, pretty," he cooed, "that's why I'm gonna give you a chance to be good for me, and when you prove to me you can do it, you can touch me all you want."

"O-okay," you stuttered as he started placing teasing kisses on your inner thighs. You sighed.

"You smell so good. Want me to taste you too, hm? You're soaked, your pussy is begging me to do something about it."

"Yes, yes, I do!" you almost yelled. "Please, sir, I'll be good for you."

"I know you fucking will." he stated. Just then, he started licking your pussy, delicately at first just so you could get used to the feeling of finally having him the way you wanted. His hands held your hips in place to stop you from moving. He was the one in control, after all.

Then, once he sucked your clit between his lips, he started flicking his tongue against the nub, eliciting moans from you. The taste of you in his tongue was something he could never get used to, every fucking time felt like the first. He felt addicted to the power it had over him. The best he could do was at least try to be in control. You squirmed, almost like you wanted to get away from him, but his firm hands held you in place. "Be good and stay still," he muttered against your core, slapping your pussy once. You nodded, whining, too lost in the feeling after the sting, in the feeling of his tongue punishing you in a rhythm that put you in a frenzy. Spencer's middle finger slowly pushed inside your fluttering walls. "You're dripping all over my fingers. What a messy girl."

Knuckle deep inside your cunt and mouth feverishly and steadily working on your clit, your boyfriend started to feel more and more desperate by the second with the sounds coming from your mouth. You, on the other hand, could almost taste your release, a complete mess on the bed, chants leaving your reddened lips from all the biting, "yes, sir! You make me feel s'good, you're s'deep in me. Fuck! I'm your good g—" as he heard your words tinged with desperation in a high pitched voice and felt the muscles in your pussy tighten, he quickly stopped his actions.

He would bet money that it hurt him more than it did you.

"Noooo..." you whined, like a spoiled brat. A breathless, messy, spoiled brat. You knew what you were in for from the moment he took off your shoes. "Please, please, sir. You can f-eel how desperate I am for you," you blabbered, trying to argue. "Can I show you?" You decided to take matters into your own hands. Well, as best as you could.

He stood up. "Let's see what you've got, princess." He gripped his shaft in front of you, making saliva pool in your mouth. "You're not even being fucked yet, and you're already this dumb, baby?" He sneered at you. You looked up at his face, taking in his dilated pupils watching you. You looked like any man's wet dream, perfect pussy on display, chest heaving with anticipation of what was coming next, face contorted in the filthiest expression in the world.

He would be happy just to watch you, but he was actually able to taste, touch, see, smell and hear the whole thing.

He was the luckiest man in the world.

Half sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and already off of his slacks and briefs, he beckoned you over to his lap. You kneeled somewhat awkwardly on the bed to hover on his lap, cunt dripping arousal on his belly as you did so. He groaned, the dominant facade faltering for a moment. He had to be the most indulgent dominant man ever, because he was barely able to resist you and your seducing ways. "See how wet you make me?" You whispered, eyes focused on his, which looked directly at the sheer liquid pooling on his stomach.

"You're such a good girl, baby" in a weakened voice made its way out of his mouth. "Since you asked so nicely and you have proof, why don't you show me how much you love riding me, huh? Come on, pretty, sit on my cock. Ride me." His commanding sentences made your cunt gush yet again.

"Yes, sir!" you exclaimed, ready to obey his commands.

Spencer gripped his base and rubbed his dick against your folds. He groaned, biting his lip and it took every single ounce of self control not to kiss him senseless. After some more teasing, he muttered, "You can do it now."

You sat down on him, slowly, pushing the tip in. "Fuck," hoarse voice, just the way he loved it, "you feel so good, sir. And you're not even fully in yet."

"Come on, nice and slow, princess."

You sank a little further, his girth stretching you out so deliciously that it made you shut your eyes closed as goosebumps erupted on your skin, pure bliss running through you. "Fuck—ah— you're so, so hard, sir," you hissed.

"Yes, that's it," he grabbed your hands in one of his. He felt you clench around him. "Gonna make sure you get off on my cock alone."

Recalling his demand, you obeyed. Nice and slow, savoring the feeling of having him buried to the hilt inside of you. each time you pulled back just to slam his dick inside again made you feel dizzy. Spencer was mesmerized by the sight before him. First, your expression told him how much you enjoyed riding him, mouth agape to let out the dirtiest moans and words, unlike the poised woman he liked to brag about to whoever listened. "Fuck, you're so deep. 's so good, love it when you let me ride you, sir."

Spencer kept silent for a moment, still admiring your form. He watched as the hair on your skin shivered each time he started to meet your thrusts, eager to make you his. his eyes drifted to your breasts, bouncing with every movement of your bodies. It was wanton, watching you get off on top of him, using him to chase your own high, but the sight that got him enthralled was your pussy making his cock glisten with your arousal. "Yeah, pretty? So what do you say? D'you remember you have to be nice?"

"Thank you, sir"

"Thank you for what?" he urged.

“Thank you for letting me sit on your cock,"

"That's right. You're taking me so well, princess, fucking hell," he cursed. "Such a tight cunt, so perfect for me."

"I'm all yours, sir! Yours."

"That's right. You're taking me so well, princess, fucking hell," he cursed. "Such a tight cunt, so perfect for me."

At this point, Spencer was a goner below you. You rocked your hips and he met you thrusts ruthlessly, focused on chasing your high. You slowed your movements, clit grinding against his pubic bone, dick still rock hard inside of you. You felt the telling signs of your orgasm approaching and, mind filled with thoughts of all the filth you've done with him. You still wanted to do much more. "Fuck, pretty girl—you're so good at taking me."

You leaned down to whisper in his ear, your tits brushing against his skin adding to the whirlwind of sensations. "Can I come, sir? Please! I want to come all over your cock," all your sentences sounded like heavenly, pathetic whines to Spencer's ears.

"You hafta take it, princess," he groaned, hands guiding your movements. "Take. It." He urged, words emphasized by two particularly hard thrusts. “Wanna come inside of you.”

"Yes, please! I'm all yours—Spencer!" You yelled out his name as your orgasm washed over you, still grinding against him.

The sound of his name leaving your lips was enough to follow you not shortly after. “Gonna come—fuck—inside you.” He gritted. After spilling inside you, he kept fucking his cum back inside with a few sloppier thrusts.

You crashed beside him, taking a minute to catch your breath. Spencer quickly reached to undo his tie on your wrists, kissing the soft skin after removing the garment. You chuckled at his care. “Don't ever stop me from touching you again,” you muttered.

“What are you going to do, angel? Stop me?” He laughed softly.

He cleaned you both up and you had your hands free to caress your boyfriend’s skin all night long.

The next morning, Spencer had you on the phone as he walked in the bullpen, saying “yes”, “of course”, and a series of different agreements, gleeful expression on his face.

He heard Derek Morgan chuckle. "Aw, Reid, she already telling you what to do?"

"There's no time for her to start, you know that, Derek," Emily quipped.

They had no idea you were telling him about the wet dream you had about him fucking you in the middle of the bullpen.

[eddiazx]

benefit part 2 - evan buckley x reader

part 1 here!

Buck wakes up with his nose pressed against your hair. You’ve slept at Buck’s multiple times, even shared beds once or twice, but he never realized just how clingy you are in your sleep. Half your body is on top of his: your head is tucked underneath his chin, your arm is splayed out over his bare torso, and your right leg is hooked over his left thigh, knee brushing up against his morning wood.

Buck likes this. The domesticity, the smell of you, your warmth; Buck could get used to waking up this way all the time.

Except, he thinks soberly, that’s not what the two of you had agreed on. This was supposed to be just sex. But Buck has come to the belated realization that it could never be just anything with you.

“Buck? You awake yet?”, Eddie’s voice comes ringing through the loft from his front door. Buck’s eyes widen; he had completely forgotten that he made plans to get breakfast with him that morning. He looks at you, who had woken up to the sound. With an impressive quickness, you roll off and drop down soundlessly to hide under the bed in all your naked glory. Buck would have busted out laughing if he wasn’t so scared that Eddie was going to catch the two of you together. Neither of you would hear the end of it if the rest of the team found out about your little arrangement.

Eddie makes his way up the loft stairs and gives Buck an unimpressed look over at his sleepy, shirtless form. Buck had had the sense to throw the covers over his legs to avoid flashing Eddie.

“Hey Eds”, Buck smiles weakly.

“Morning, sleeping beauty. You able to get ready in 5, at least? I’m craving that breakfast burrito from Joe’s.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Just…go watch TV and I’ll be ready in a bit.” Buck says, desperately hoping Eddie doesn’t look too closely at the fact that your bra was on the floor in the corner of the room.

Eddie nods, before saying, “Maybe we can text Y/N if she wants to join us too.”

Buck lets out a startled cough at your name, but Eddie already has his back to him, walking down the stairs. A few moments pass until Buck hears the sounds of Brooklyn 99 playing downstairs.

Buck leans over and peers down at you. You have an amused smile on your face, but Buck can’t help but mouth, “you okay?”

You nod, and give him a thumbs up. You gesture at your phone, which Buck hands over to you. He watches as you open up your notes app and type out 'go grab breakfast, I’ll let myself out and lock the door' before showing him the text.

Buck nods and walks to the bathroom, all the while wondering what the heck he got himself into.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

Eddie is talking about a project Chris has for his history class while chewing on his burrito. Buck is trying really hard to pay attention, but his brain keeps providing him with unhelpful flashes of last night. He thinks he might be hallucinating, because he can even picture you sitting down in front of him.

Wait, that’s not a hallucination, you were actually here.

“Hi guys”, you smile, swiping a potato off of Eddie’s plate and popping it into your mouth, eyes sparkly and beautiful as usual. Buck is again met with a memory of last night, when you put something of his in your mouth.

Buck shakes his head, as if he can physically clear his mind from the memory. “Uh, what’re you doing here?”

“I knew you would forget so I sent her a text to join us while you were getting ready.” Eddie responds for you.

"Right, yeah." Buck nods quickly.

Eddie and you exchange glances. Buck was acting weird, weirder than normal.

While you order and promptly delve into a conversation with Eddie, Buck considers moving to another firehouse, one where he didn't have to see and work with his best friend that he was hopelessly in love with.

•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••

"Hen, can I talk to you?", Buck stammers, when they're the only two seated at the firehouse dinner table one evening.

"Sure, what's up?" Hen asks, closing the textbook she was reading.

"I... I think I have feelings for Y/N." Buck admits.

Hen continues to stare at Buck expectantly, not a single difference showing in her face after Buck's admission. "Wait, that's it? That's not news to anybody, Buck."

Buck blinks at Hen. "What?"

"Buck, you've been gone for her since she started at the 118. You've had permanent heart eyes for that girl."

"No... we're friends! Best friends!"

Hen shoots Buck a patient look. "Chim and I are best friends, Buck. You and Y/N are in a different category entirely."

"Okay, fine, whatever. It's bad, Hen. We started sleeping with each other last week and -"

"What?!"

"She's so smart and beautiful Hen, and she makes the hottest sounds when-"

"Okay, ew."

"But she doesn't want to be in a relationship and I don't know how to act around her now that I know I have feelings for her and-"

"Alright Buck, breathe." Hen motions for Buck to inhale and exhale with her hands. Hen seems thoughtful for a second, before she asks, "how do you know she doesn't want to be in a relationship?"

"I don't think a relationship was what she had in mind. She suggested we have sex casually; that it wouldn't be weird 'cause we're friends."

"That... was a horrible idea."

Buck groans and puts his head in his hands. "Well, I know that now!"

Hen smiles softly, prying Buck's hands away to hold onto them. "Buck, we all knew that you were in love with her, but she looks at you the same way. I think you guys should talk to each other. You guys might be on the same page."

Buck looks at Hen's earnest, honest face. He wasn't entirely convinced, but he knows that he couldn't keep avoiding you or clamming up the way he did at breakfast. He needed to come clean.

And then promptly move.

[knottedhearts]

Q&A: C.S

The soft hum of the camera turning on filled the quiet room as you and Chris sat side by side on his couch, the glow of the ring light casting a warm, flattering light over both of you. It had been ages since he posted anything on his personal YouTube channel, and today was the day he finally decided to pick it back up. The two of you had agreed to film a Q&A session, answering questions from his fans who had been eagerly awaiting his return to the platform.

Chris was fiddling with his phone, scrolling through the questions his followers had sent in. He looked over at you with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright," he said, turning to the camera and giving a thumbs up. "It’s been a while, but let’s kick this off. First question…"

He glanced down at his phone, brows furrowing slightly as he read. "Okay, this one’s… interesting." He paused for effect, clearly teasing you, before reading aloud. "'Have you guys had sex?'"

You froze for a second, then burst out laughing, your face going bright red. "Oh my god," you groaned, shaking your head. "Seriously?"

Chris leaned back, his smirk turning into a full-blown grin. "I mean, we are answering questions, right?" He gave a playful shrug, looking at you with that signature, mischievous glint in his eyes. "Not that it's anyone’s business, but we’re here to have fun, right?"

You covered your face with your hands, still laughing. "This is what I get for agreeing to this. I swear your followers are crazy."

Chris’s laughter joined yours, and it was hard to tell whether the question was funny or just absurd. But the chemistry between the two of you made it all feel lighthearted, and it was easy to fall into the rhythm of answering questions while sharing inside jokes.

You took a deep breath, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes. "Alright, alright. Next question before we get any more weird ones." You reached for your phone and skimmed through the list of submitted questions. "Let’s see… Here’s a cute one. 'What’s your favorite thing about each other?'"

Chris looked over at you, his smile softening. "Honestly? It's how we can just hang out and not even have to do anything and still have a great time. Like, we’re always on the same wavelength." He chuckled. "And how you always make me laugh. You’re like the funniest person I know."

Your heart gave a little skip, the warmth in his voice making you smile. You shrugged casually, acting nonchalant, but you could feel the fondness in his words. "Well, you’re pretty funny yourself. I guess it’s why we get along so well. But I’ll admit, you do have that charm that makes everything feel more fun."

He nudged you playfully with his elbow, then turned back to the camera. "Next one, I think we can all guess this one… 'Do you two ever fight?'"

You snorted, laughing at how predictable that question was. "Oh, definitely. We’re not perfect. We argue, we bicker, but it’s nothing too serious." You glanced at Chris and made a face. "Mostly about silly stuff, like when he steals the last slice of pizza."

Chris raised an eyebrow, smirking. "It was one slice. And you didn’t call dibs."

You pointed at him, laughing again. "You always steal it and then act like it’s no big deal!"

Chris winked, turning to the camera. "Hey, you snooze, you lose."

You shook your head, rolling your eyes dramatically. "You’re impossible."

As the conversation flowed, you and Chris went through a handful of questions, answering with a mix of humor, honesty, and a little bit of teasing. The questions ranged from the goofy to the sentimental, but no matter what was asked, it was easy to feel at ease with Chris by your side.

Eventually, Chris read the next question with a slight hesitation, his grin widening as he glanced over at you. "Okay… another weird one," he said, drawing it out for dramatic effect. "You ready?"

You squinted at him, already dreading what might come next. "Just read it, Chris."

He cleared his throat, pretending to be serious, and read, "'Do you ever have matching outfits?'"

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment before bursting out laughing. "That’s it? That’s the weird question you were hyping up?"

Chris grinned widely. "You’re telling me you didn’t think about this one? I thought you two would rock a couple’s costume for Halloween or something."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought. "You know, that wouldn’t be the worst idea, actually."

Chris rolled his eyes but was clearly entertained by your suggestion. "Alright, let’s get back to the real questions, shall we?"

The next few questions were just as random, but you couldn’t stop laughing—"Do you think you’re both cute?" "Do you ever argue over the TV remote?" and, of course, the classic "Who is the better cook?" (You both agreed it was Chris, but you liked to pretend it was a tie to make him laugh.)

As you both read through the questions, the time seemed to slip away, the easy back-and-forth between you and Chris making the whole process feel like fun instead of work. Every time you’d tease him or crack a joke, you’d catch him looking at you with that smile, and it was impossible not to feel like the luckiest person in the world.

Eventually, you wrapped up the video, both of you laughing at the absurdity of some of the questions. As the camera shut off, Chris turned to you with a grin. "Well, that wasn’t so bad, right?"

You grinned back, leaning over and bumping him playfully with your shoulder. "Yeah, it was pretty fun. Even if your followers are a little… intense."

Chris chuckled, throwing his arm around your shoulder casually as he stood up. "You love it. You know you do."

You shook your head, still laughing as you followed him toward the kitchen. "You’re ridiculous," you muttered, but you couldn’t stop smiling. It was moments like this—simple, goofy, and filled with easy camaraderie—that made everything feel perfect.

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  6 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again. 

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched.  One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize.  But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right?  It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help.  You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him.  “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird.  Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”  Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone.  “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?”  ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful.  “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.”  Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.”  You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away.  “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.”  A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.”  This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away.  “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -”  “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood. 

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind. 

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream. 

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration. 

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt. 

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance. 

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.” 

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?” 

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

 “Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.” 

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth. 

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you. 

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat. 

Well, fuck. 

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it. 

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one. 

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other. 

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you. 

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew. 

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.” 

Oh God.

 There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed. 

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.” 

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented. 

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked. 

Everyone except for you. 

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.” 

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.” 

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!” 

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held. 

“How would I do that?” You asked. 

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head. 

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building. 

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed. 

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?” 

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?” 

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence. 

Dinner. Shit. 

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior. 

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest? 

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so. 

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.” 

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did. 

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?” 

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf. 

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church. 

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home.  She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect. 

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door. 

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket. 

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction. 

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside. 

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming. 

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change. 

But, maybe - 

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow? 

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?” 

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you. 

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true. 

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating. 

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura. 

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder. 

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up. 

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.” 

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.” 

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.” 

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate. 

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind. 

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?” 

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.” 

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you. 

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in. 

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -” 

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs. 

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words. 

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.” 

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern. 

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm. 

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged. 

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...” 

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression. 

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway. 

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.” 

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly. 

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way. 

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.” 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in. 

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?” 

Of course you did. More than anything. 

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.” 

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin.  His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say. 

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin. 

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.” 

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth. 

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch. 

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way. 

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans. 

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded. 

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -” 

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready. 

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart. 

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan. 

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole. 

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more. 

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling. 

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat. 

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch. 

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse. 

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold. 

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time. 

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer. 

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk. 

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible. 

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking. 

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing. 

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?” 

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable. 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense? 

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed. 

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath. 

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought. 

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb. 

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

[hyperdramas]

aftermath (act two) | lee seokmin

part: 2 of 3 (part 1 here) | warnings & playlist are mentioned in part 1

word count: 2.1k words (lord bless)

Seokmin was starting to think he was incredibly drunk on something or finally going insane, but he couldn't stop watching you as you slept on his couch, face pressed into his silky white pillow as drool fell from the side of your pretty, parted lips.

It wasn't like him to wake up early on the weekends, but here he was, sitting in silence with nothing but a pair of sweatpants on as he watched you fast asleep on his couch. He was worried about you overnight, even going as far as to wake up from his own sleep to quietly make his way downstairs and check on you, adjusting the thermostat or covering you up if you were to push your blankets off of you.

Seokmin was caring too much, and he knew it. He cringed at himself as he watched the sun start to peak out from the clouds, basking your sleeping face in a warm glow. Even though you looked like you had fought a ghost in your sleep, your hair was delicately spewed over the pillow, falling in waves down the side of your face.

As the sunlight hit your eyes just right, you squinted them open, taking in your surroundings before you sit up in a jolt, surprised. You had forgotten that you had accidently crashed at MLB's star pitcher Lee Seokmin's million-dollar apartment for the night.

Not mentioning that you didn't actually mean to do it, either.

You slowly scanned the room, too surprised and embarrassed to take in the beautiful view or sleek white that was the pristine living room you were sleeping in.

"Good morning." Seokmin said softly, and you nodded, averting your eyes to the warm, white blanket on top of you. ".....Oh, um—Good morning." You replied back, and Seokmin stood up moments later, cracking his neck without flinching as he made his way to the kitchen.

Your eyes traced over Seokmin's back as he walked, taking note of his broad shoulders, study, muscled arms, and sculpted waist. He really took time to work on himself, and you could see it more and more as you watched him.

"Are you uh—are you gonna stay for breakfast?" Seokmin asked awkwardly, pulling out a pan from a cabinet as he opened the fridge door.

This was so weird—you had (somehow) found your way into a popular celebrity's apartment, and not only was he not being rude to you or making you feel lower than him, but letting you spend the night, sleep on his couch, and offering to make you breakfast. Seokmin wasn't like the other self-centered celebrities you had heard about before—he was down-to-earth, real about what he said and did. It was admirable to you.

You were attracted to that, you wouldn't lie. Lee Seokmin wasn't just a good looking baseball player with raw pitching talent, but an admirable person with a strong and dominant, yet sweet disposition.

"If not, you're free to go. I don't mind." Seokmin had added, and you remembered what he asked you, clearing your throat as you nodded shyly. "No, no—I can....I can stay."

Seokmin let out a quiet sigh of relief, surprising himself in the process. Why? He had a faint idea as to why, but didn't want to say it to himself or even think it to himself. That was the furthest thing away from the truth. There's no way that could be the reason. Right?

After twenty minutes of stiff chatting from you and Seokmin, the food is ready, and you sit on the couch, trying not to gorge yourself on the delicious eggs and bacon lying in front of you. Seokmin watches you as you eat, biting back a smile as he senses you trying to hold back.

"You can eat however, okay? I'm not going to judge you." Seokmin let out a little chuckle, and you looked up at him, deflating a bit as you matched his laugh and you took a bite of egg.

Not only was Lee Seokmin sculpted by the gods, with his sharp features and strong body—but a great facial expression reader.

"I'm sorry if I came off as weird yesterday for asking you stay the night with me. I had no intentions of doing anything..." Seokmin trails off, face betraying him as his cheeks start to warm you. You stare at him, slowly but surely getting the memo as he continues. "Anything that you wouldn't want to do. I just, shit, I—"

"—don't want to be alone." You finish for him, remembering what he had said last night. Seokmin nods once, looking back down at his nearly finished plate. "Yeah...uh, yeah."

You shake your head, looking up from your plate as you meet his gaze. "No, it's okay. You didn't come off weird at all."

"You're a really bad liar." Seokmin jeers playfully, and you can't help but laugh, nodding as you tuck your hair behind your ear. "Ouch."

The table falls quiet again as the scraping of plates can be heard, and you finish your plate, fork down as you look at Seokmin. He's on his phone, frown evident as his eyes scan something. You've never seen him frown before, at least in the time you've known him (that being a singular night), but you could automatically tell you hated it.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You ask, and Seokmin looks up at you, eyes hard as he doesn't say anything for a while. The air around him is thick with a certain feeling you can't seem to describe, and it makes you feel small, insignificant to him. "Ah, I'm—I'm sorry. It's not my business."

"No, no." Seokmin says hurriedly, phone hitting the glass table as a heavy quietness filles the dining room. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Seokmin lies straight through his teeth to you, and you don't catch on, nodding as you finish your cup of water.

The thing that "wasn't your business" was a text from Seokmin's PR manager. He was due at a photoshoot almost thirt minutes ago, and she was livid that he wasn't ready to be dressed and filming the video ad.

Seokmin didn't want to go—there were a million other things he could be doing rather than sitting in a stiff chair for hours on end as staff spent their time doing nothing but retouching the smallest little smudges of his makeup and hair while Seokmin was stuck posing endlessly for a tiny, four-page spread.

He had never skipped out on something planned like this, but he was going to do it now. He deserved to feel good for once—free, unbound by any time-constricting schedules that he wasn't interested in.

"Are you doing anything important today?" Seokmin asks, standing up as he takes his plate from his seating spot. He walks over to you as well, cologne wafting over you as your plate is stacked on top of his. "No?" You answer, although it sounds like a question—what is going on? Why is Seokmin so invested in you? It wasn't a bad thing, necessarily, but you were beyond confused and surprised.

"Do you want to—uh, wanna stay over for the day? I mean—I don't have anything better to do, and I still don't want to be alone." Seokmin couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth, but he couldn't stop talking. You were making him nervous.

"Seokmin...." Boy, were you getting mixed signals from this guy. He had just met you yesterday, and here he was, asking you to stay the day and keep him company. It was a miracle you had come into his apartment, and now he wanted you to stay longer?

You didn't want to believe it, but your gullible, love-sick heart sat there thinking this was a sign that he was into you. There were so many things that screamed absolutely not, some being the fact you and him just met yesterday night, every conversation you have had with him was a mess of awkward sentences, and the simple fact he was a celebrity, for God's sakes.

"Sure. Why not?" You shrug, and Seokmin smiles, eyes lingering on your body for a bit longer than usual before he makes his way to the sink. You squirm in your seat, chest on fire as you watch him scrub away at the dishes. What was this feeling burning deep in your chest? Why were you feeling it now, while being with Seokmin?

"And that's how I got that knot on my head." Seokmin chuckles as you run your finger over the picture in the photobook. His eyes glance at you as he gages your reaction, and he feels his heart jump a little when your hand brushes against his.

One thing led to another, and here you were, sitting on Seokmin's bed as you looked through photo albums he had stashed away in his scarily neat closet. You would have never thought you've been able to say that you've sat in a celebrity's bed before and looked at their baby pictures, but here you were.

"It looks painful." You muse, noticing how Seokmin's eyes still squint like they do now, when he laughs. "I mean, you're crying," You laugh, and Seokmin just shakes his head, ghost of a smile on his lips as he answers with a simple, "It hurt back then, yeah."

You close the photobook, handing it back to him as he takes the rest of the stack you've already looked through and returned it back to its rightful place.

Seokmin shut the door to his walk-in closet, coming back to sit on the bed as you stared out the window, having a perfect view of the pristine pool down below. Seokmin's hands were sweaty, and his hands were clammy, but he couldn't stop the words that were bubbling through his chest and to his mouth.

"Would it be weird if I told you that I loved you?" And there it went. Seokmin had talked without thinking again, and threw you for a loop.

None of this was normal—you and Seokmin had created a bond over today, even if you started out as strangers just last night. He knew you now, and you knew him, as if you two had been long-lost friends who had just rekindled their old memories and started off again from where they had stopped before.

Seokmin had made himself more than just a popular, talented baseball player to you—he was just a normal person, having fears and struggles just as the rest of the human population did. He wasn't this untouchable, closed-off celebrity who just smiled and did everything perfect all the time. He was just like you—lost, confused, and alone, lacking in all the departments he thought he should have been ahead in.

"A little, yeah." You answered after a while of thinking, and Seokmin nodded, looking away as he let out a sigh. "Yeah, you're right. I'm—I'm sorry. I got caught up in the moment."

"Seokmin, I want to stay in this moment forever. With you." You muttered, and he turned back to you, eyes raking over you slowly as he took you all in. He looked at your sparkling eyes, warm cheeks, and small voice.

"As insane and ridiculous as this whole situation is, I think I love you, Seokmin." You whisper, and he moves towards you as you follow his lead, now just inches away from each other as he makes the first move. His hands are slow, slender fingers coming to move your hair from your face as he tucks it behind your ear.

Seokmin's too far into you to back out now, and he goes all the way, kissing you slow as you melt under him. All the tension between you two melts in the matter of a few seconds, and you cling to his shirt, sighing under him as his hands dance across your waist.

"I—fuck." Seokmin's words are beyond broken as he pulls away from you, and he doesn't even try to fix them, staring at you in your soft, breathless glory. You're still reeling from the kiss that just happened, mind somewhere else as your lips still tingle with the feeling.

"Are you still with me?" Seokmin questions softly, hand on your thigh as he looks at you with those eyes—those sharp, hungry ones you see when he's strategizing with his team or preparing to pitch.

"Yeah, I am," You breathe out, eyes meeting Seokmin's as you blush. You're in heaven, you think, because the feeling that you feel right now is something you'd never want to give up.

You'd never want to give Seokmin up.

But would he feel the same way about you?

feedback & reblogs are so so appreciated! let me know what you think lyrnation

[everythingiloveblog]

Some people are acting like the viewers are arguing whether Jack’s anger is justified or not. That’s not what I’m seeing. It’s more about the actions resulting from that anger, the timing, the targets, just...I don’t know. Something feels off.  

The weird levels of intensity as well. Like, am I the only one thinking that the Save is a snake reveal was so underwhelming? Like, Hope gets 2 punches, Save gets a "Don’t let me see this bastard’s face again" and that’s it??? But if Joke stole the ring and gave him to Boss "We might have to kill him"????

Also, it feels repetitive. Like, again? Ep10-11 bringing us back to ep1-2 like...(on purpose probably but still)

Again, we don’t know what’s gonna happen in ep11 and how the rest of the hospital scene is gonna go, but personally, I guess I want something like:

Joke telling Jack that he did it to free him, that he didn’t know the consequences, etc and Jack being like "Idgaf.  Am I supposed to be thankful? Well, I’m not. You and grandma just scolded me about taking big decisions without consulting you first. The next day, you go and do the same thing. Now look where we are. At this point the broken promise isn’t the problem, you fucked up the whole community, you better find a way to fix it, you and your little idiots (Hoy, Tattoo and Arun)...and I’ll also help...and then we seriously need to talk". And then during the whole preparation for the final fight, Jack could be cold as fuck, because he is rightfully angry, not just at Joke, but the heist crew, Save, Hope, Boss, the Horsemen, everyone.

But from the next ep teaser, it seems like the scene will end in a separation (again) and I’m just a little bit done. Communication issues, while realistic, also get old and my annoyance is just as real (unless it's part of a plan, which I also doubt with Joke writing "100 ways to say thank you without having to see each other"...yeah)

[dykedvonte]

Can you talk about trans!Curly a little bit more? I'm curios if you have any headcanons and the like

-💀

It's just such a thing in my mind because it adds a truthful sadness and differing aspect to mouthwashing.

If Curly was trans it adds the horror of the horribly selfish thought he could have easily been in Anya's situation. It could've been him but it wasn't and he so conflicted on the pit it put in his stomach that brings and the shameful relief it wasn't. In this scenario he is friends with Jimmy for a long time still. Jimmy likely knew him pretransition. Maybe he gave Curly weird looks then, maybe they never stopped after, maybe they seemed meaner. They are guys now, bros, both of them are. He doesn't really have to worry what those looks mean anymore, Jimmy just has that face with him sometimes. It's recontextualizing a lot of things for him that he was in denial about or too ashamed to admit. How naive he was being and how he let that get another person hurt.

Specifically with Anya, it's he knows the dread and fear she's feeling. He can understand it because he had to live with it for a good portion of his life, he knows it cause he still does, just in a slightly different way. It makes him think of all the times he's been alone with Jimmy, all the times he's been way more drunk off his ass and not remember the night, Jimmy was always with him the next day. Makes him think of the comments he would laugh off both because that's what guys do but because that part of being a girl says to laugh so Jimmy doesn't do something. It's the selfish realization that he was never safe and he's uncertain now too. Mad at himself for forgeting that feeling, espcially since for a long time he would've been considered the only woman on a crew (with all that implies) for a long time.

He should've taken those blinders off, step back into that position for just a moment and it's so much more painful that Anya likely came to him because he should've gotten it. Those thoughts don't leave his mind after the crash when he's in an even more vulnerable position than she was...

[starlooove]

Call me jaded bitter and black but I’ll never care about the nuances of the police fill in on tv. Like we already have to deal with the ‘my dad is a cop :(‘ or ‘my broke brother joined the military’ irl why the fuck am I wasting my brain power on Caitlyn or vi. Like we know materialistically the authority of being a cop can get u what u want faster and that emotionally u either need strict routine with an outlet for ur violence or ur so used to it that u have to be a cop. I still fucking hate u tho like idc about how sad u are about being privileged and I said cop fill in but it’s really every kind of that character on tv like Zuko esque sorry I genuinely have less empathy for you than I do for other people idc

[triglycercule]

i love doodling swapinverse like hello drawing characters aside from the normal mtt is lowkey therapeutic 🧡🧡🧡 anyways i FINALLY FINALLY finished crash's lore!!!! and vice.SER is connected to him,,,, theyre interconnected!!! i forgot how much i liked crash's design (not the design but all the little gimmicks in the design. figuring out all the hanging ribbon bits is annoying but hey it looks good)

[todayisafridaynight]

any hopes for kiwami 3? like things u wanna see added or changed stuff like that

if they dont keep kiryu's goofy walk stance and the hoof-like walk sounds i dont wanna play it

[juniestar]

I feel like one of my friends is being weird with me but I’ve got no proof all I know is I asked her for another friend’s number (someone I haven’t spoken to in 4 yrs 😟) and she stopped texting me back and liking my posts. Which could be entirely incidental like it should just be entirely incidental but I am getting a weird vibe

[galariangengar]

💭

[slvttyplum]

having sex with toji made you shy, to the point where you were covering up your face and moans, trying not to embarrass yourself, and clenching up from his every touch. toji didn't like that; he liked when you got out of control, where you were clinging onto him and telling him what pace to go, how to do something, and where to touch you, your loud moans slipping through the cracks of your bedroom door.

he wanted that and more. he didn't want you to cover your beautiful face and try to suppress your moans; it made him feel weird, like he was having sex with the mattress beneath him. he wanted you to be loud and tell him what to do, so in order for you to do that, he would put you on top so that you had no choice but to take control and not cover up your face. 

as much as he wanted to take control and slam his hips into you and push into your sweet spot to the point you're clinging and squirting on his dick, he just couldn't bear to be shy while he was beating your pussy in; it wasn't ideal for him, so this is all he could do: have you take control.

it obviously worked because once your hips got rolling and your hands were sat on top of his chest, there was no stopping you; all you needed was a little bit of motivation and his dick poking your sweet spot repeatedly for you to finally give up the shy girl act.

he knew that once you got on top, there was no stopping you, your ass bouncing on top of him while you moaned in his ear and blabbered in his ear about how good you felt. you would get so high on pleasure that drool was falling out, and you were saying all kinds of shit and didn't recall anything the next day. 

he saw the potential you had whenever you were on top of him, bouncing on his dick with no plans of stopping, so he wanted you to keep going so that you wouldn't be covering up your face while he dug you out. taking your hands and putting them above you as he kissed you, his tongue filling your mouth, low moans sliding into his mouth making him smile, only making his dick fill out your pussy more. 

"keep going, baby; there you go." watching how you slid up and down on his dick while your head was hanging back and one of your hands on his chest lightly pressing down as you lifted your hips and the other rubbing over your breast lightly grazing over your nipples. the pleasure was so overwhelming that covering your face or suppressing your moans were out of the question; you had no choice but to moan and throw your head back. 

once toji realized just what he had to do to make you not cover up your face or hold in your moans, he would just turn around and put you on top of him and push his hips into you, so that he would get control again while there was no place for you to run or cover your face up. when you were on top, it was easier for his dick to poke your sweet spot back and forth with no breaks, so the pleasure was more overwhelming.

as much as you wanted to freeze up and hide your face, you just couldn't; the overall hold his dick had on you was too much for you to ignore or try to push off. your body knew what you really wanted, what you craved and ached for, and what had your pussy clenching around him to orgasm.

both your body and toji worked together to betray you, but god, did you thank them for this? when you were covering up your face and moaning, you couldn't focus on the pleasure. you were so worried about covering up everything that you didn't have time to submerge yourself in the pleasure toji was giving you, and he couldn't have that.

once he started having you on top of him, the habit of covering yourself up along with your moans faded away. he could flip you in all kinds of positions and have you begging for more. toji made sure he saw your every expression when he was inside of you.

[adelliet]

Wolverine x f!reader

MIND READER

Summary: Your parents sent you to your older sister Jean Grey to spend more time with her. However, you had no idea that one of her colleagues would also want to get to know you, but in a much deeper way.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, strong language, age gap, fingering, oral (f and m receiving), little bit of choking, unprotected sex (p i v), loss of virginity, cum play, aftercare, kinda fluff

“C'mon sis, don't look so grumpy” Jean said to you as you make your way to the X-men Mansion. You sigh and roll your eyes with arms firmly tangled on your chest.

“It's gonna be fun…my friend's are nice” she keep tried to ease the situation, that you're going to stay in this school for gifted for a week. It was your divorced parents stupid command, to get closer to your sister. You would rather eat a moldy banana with mayonnaise, but unfortunately, you had no other choice. Not even the banana.

When you walk in, your eyes widened as you saw the enormous place from the inside. From the outside, it looked really boring and old, so you were pretty surprised that it looked really fancy. “You're living in this?” you asked Jean and she nodded with a giggle afterwards. “Trust me, this is just the beginning” she said and you follow her through the halls.

You tried to avoid all the students passing by and you immidiately understood why it's called school for gifted. All of them were mutants. You didn't have to read everyone's minds to realize that, some of them were clearly obvious, because of their unusual physical form. Some of them looked pretty normal, but they were giving you a weird energy, not the typical one from a normal human.

“So, act nice and don't be mean 'kay?” Jean stopped at the last door on the end of the hall. You nodded annoyingly and put a fake smile, as soon as she opens the door and walked in. “Hey guys!” you peeked behind Jean and quickly scan all of the people that were in the room.

“So as I promised, I'm here to introduce my little siser!” She stepped aside to reveal you, making you anxious at all the eyes being glued to your face. You waved at them and suck your lips into a thin akward line. “So that's her!” a pretty tall man with a weird glasses on his eyes walked towards you, his hand in front of you. You claim his head and shake it, reading his mind without permission. *She's really just like her sister, beautiful* you made a disgusted face, trying to keep smilling.

“Hey, I'm Jean's boyfriend-“ “Scott Summers” you cut him off and finishing his sentence, leaving him speechless. Suddenly, you felt a painful ringing in your ears that Jean gave you as a warning. You promised her you wouldn't read these people's minds, but you can't help it, it's your natural instinct.

“How did you-“ “Don't worry about that” you cut him off, again, and quickly put a convincing smile. The next person who shake your hand was a blonde pretty girl, that looked really sweet. However, when you tried to read her mind, there was no thoughts about you, but about herself. She wasn't happy with herself, with her powers. You started feeling bad for her.

“Mystique” she smilled, even tho you knew it was fake. You wish you could help her, but this wasn't the best time and place to do that. Maybe another time. “Hey kid” a blue furry beast was approaching you and you startled by his deep voice and visage. “H-hey” you carefully grabbed his hand, which looked like a lego peace in his palm. “Hank McCoy” he had a white labotary cloak, which you inferred he was probably a scientist.

There were three other people in the room, Storm was radiating the sweetest energy. She was even worried about hurting you, when you were shaking her hand. One of the two men was a gentleman sitting in a wheelchair, who clearly informed you via telekinesis, that he could also read minds. His name was Charles Xavier, apparently he is the founder of all this. And the last but not least guy was looking pretty hot, like really fucking hot.

You felt goosebombs jumping all over your body when he walks towards you. His mischievous grin hits you right into your core, which started unexpectedly pulsating. “Hey kiddo” his deep voice tickled your ears and when you grab his enormous hand, your jaw dropped. Again, you read his mind without authorization. There was imagination of you, naked and being fucked by this man right in this room.

You flinched and released his grip. Your shocked face made that man scoff, before he leaned closer to your face. "Logan, nice to meet ya" he whispered before backing up onto his place, where he was originally standing. You were frozen, your mind was keep replaying that image of his, bended over a table that Charles was sitting behind.

You weren't even woken up by Jean's coughing, which was a clear indication that you should move. When that didn't happen, your sister decided to step in. “Alright! We should probably head away now...right sis?" Jean laugh and shake your body, when she grabbed your shoulder. You nodded, still speechless from Logan's thoughts.

"Bye! See ya later guys!" your sister led you out of the room and the moment the doors close, she tightly grabbed your arms and lower herself to your level. “Hey what's wrong with you?" you felt better now, so you finally answered her properly. "I'm fine" Jean was still firmly holding you, raising her eyebrow suspiciously. "You sure?" you nodded and gave her a fake smile, that convinced her.

Of course, she could read your mind and find out what's really going on in there, but both of you promised each other to not read each other's minds. You've honestly followed this rule since you were little, so why break it now?

“Okay, let me show you this place and then I'll help you unpack your things hm?” you nodded, not that you really have a choice, and walk beside her. However, the thought of Logan still hasn't left you. His soft hair shaped into ears of a beast, his sideburns that beautifully accentuated his face and his coffee coded eyes. God, his eyes were the second thing that stuck in your mind, after that deviant thought about you.

You were folding your clothes and putting them in the wardrobe right opposite your bed. Jean was helping you, using her mind to speed up the job. Few hours passed since you met Jean's colleagues and you still haven't stopped thinking about Logan. You didn't want to mention him in front of your sister, but your curiosity and desire got the better of you.

“So…um what exactly are Logan's powers?” There was pretty quiet silence, before Jean answered. “He has animal-keen senses, which includes healing factor and adamantium skeleton” you hummed and pursed your lips while nodding. Yoi were thinking for a second before asking again.

“So he's immortal?” “More or less... rather delayed aging, but we could easily kill him with our minds” Jean smilled while putting your shirt in the wardrobe. “Why'd you ask?” “Just curious…” surely you weren't just curious, but on the other hand you wanted to know what makes him so speacial to be on the same level as Jean. Seems like having a fury powers pays off.

“And how old is he?” your question caught your sister off guard and when the pieces fell into place, she dramatically gasp. “Do you have a crush on him?!” Fuck. Your eyes widened and you gave her a double look. “No! No I don't-“ “Look at me” Jean knows whenever you lie without using her powers, you always avoid eye contact and play with your fingers. Unfortunately, you did avoid eye contact and played with your fingers.

“I don't I just-“ “Look, I'll be honest with you, Logan is not a good guy,” you finally look into her eyes, when her voice changed into serious one. “He was hitting on me, even tho he knew damn well I was with Scott!” she threw her hands in the air, looking really frustrated while you just innocently stared at her and listen. “He's the type of guy that will use you, before he throws you away like a piece of trash” you incredulously raised your eyebrows. You tried your best to believe, that Jean was lying, but her face was dead serious.

“Really?” You squeal quietly with a disappointment in your soft voice. “Yes…” Jean sigh and came closer to you, when she notice how much that information hurt you. "I want the best for you sis and that's definitely not Logan" she grabbed your arms. "There are plenty of other handsome boys your age, who deserve you a hundred times more than he does" you nodded, even though you were refusing to trust her words. You didn't care about other boys, you cared about Logan.

"I understand, Logan's charm is irreplaceable" Jean acknowledged, making you smirk and nod in agreement. "But still…just don't fall for him 'kay?” you silently nodded, knowing that you already fell for him. You were aware that your sister was just trying to protect you and all that, because it's her responsinility, howerer, emotions cannot be controlled, neither can desire.

It was late at night, the moon was already glowing through the blinds of your room, which was lit just by a small night lamp. Your eyes were glued to small letters of your favorite book. You read word by word, line by line and paragraph by paragraph, until you turned the pages one by one. Time passed but your appetite for sleep was nowhere to be found.

You've no idea what time is it, but thanks to stars in the sky, which gave more light into your room, you deduced that it was pretty late. You naively thought that reading a book would make you tired, but that didn't happen. You didn't feel the slightest hint of tiredness as your mind was filled with thoughts of the man you were forbidden from your sister.

Every nerve in your body, every muscle wanted and still wants to feel Logan's hand like the first time, to hug him, to smell his scent, to feel him. You've probably never been so miserable like that for a man before. It's strange how much emotions can control you.

Since reading didn't help you fall asleep and you needed some sleep, there was only one possible way how to get tired. Coffee. For all the people you know, coffee gives them a boost of energy and wakes them up, but for you, it has the exact opposite effect. A good coffee with milk makes you tired, therefore you are always 100% sure that you'll fall asleep like a baby after it.

Since it was late at night, you didn't want to bother Jean to tell you the way to the common kitchen, so you quietly tiptoeed around the halls by yourself. It took you a while but your sense of direction did not fail you.

You peeked around the corner and besides a beautifully clean and cozy kitchen, you also saw Logan standing there with a beer bottle in his hand. At first, you thought you were just dreaming and already fell asleep, but it felt too real to be just a dream.

“Hey sweetheart” Logan greeted you when you caught his eye. "Hey" a quiet squeak left your lips, as were trying to find a capsule for coffee machine. “Lookin' for somethin'?” “Y-yeah a capsule…” Logan walked closer to you, leaving you breathless as the distance between you was almost immeasurable. He grinned, before his hand opens a cabin above you and handed you a capsule.

You weren't even able to say thank you when he stepped away from you. He insidiously left you full of anticipation just so he left you and don't do anything. You started to get to know his character, he likes to play with people and that's what makes him dangerous, but also so terribly charming.

You turned around and clicked the capsule into the coffee machine. You awkwardly waited for the coffee to be made, as the annoying noise echoed throughout the kitchen. You subtly glanced to the side and immediately dodged, when you noticed Logan watching you.

"Is there any reason you're getting a coffee at this hour?" he stepped forward, but leaving a fair space between. "I can't sleep" you chuckle as you realize how stupid it sounds. "And coffee helps?" you nodded and turned your head over to him. "No argument against taste" he takes a sip from his bottle, signing that his sleeping aid is beer.

You smiled before a soft exhale escaped your lips. You stared at each other and you couldn't help but read his mind. It was a view from third person. You and him in this kitchen just like now, except that you were sitting on the counter while Logan was hungrily kissing you and exploring your whole body with his hands. Your heartbeat raise and you almost melt at the image, when suddenly you went back to reality as a beeb sound from the coffee machine rang in your ears.

You subtly cleared your throat and poured coffee into the mug. But before you could turn around to get a milk from fridge, Logan overtook you. Without a blink of an eye, he was behind you and holding a cartoon milk box. "Need this?" he was standing so incredibly close, his breath was brushing your cold ears. You inhale shakily and nodded.

"Tell me when to stop" he whispered, pouring the milk into the mug already half filled with coffee. You started feeling your core pulsating, but as if that wasn't enough, his free hand touched your weist. You gasp, breath caught in your throat as his grip on your hip tightens. "Tell me when to stop" he repeated himself, his lips now touching your ear, the milk still pouring and his hand on your body slowly moved downwards.

You realize that his sentence had two meanings and wasn't just about milk. When the milk almost overflowed from the mug, he put it on the counter and finally had the opportunity to give you all his attention. Both of his hands were on you, one was going down, second up. You knew this was wrong, that you should've already stop him, but you couldn't. You wanted this, you needed this, you longed for this.

You could sense from his touch that he's being really careful and gentle, which is hardly against his nature. But he would do the sacrifice for you. One of his hand was already up your neck, hugged it lightly, so that he had you under control, while the other was getting dangerously close to your private part. Your eyes were keeping flickering, trying so hard to keep your vision clear but Logan's fingertips were leaving you breathless.

"Do you want it?" he groans, his low voice makes your pulsating faster. You nodded harshly, wanted to say something but all you could manage to do was just a quiet tiny moan. That was enough for Logan. His hand slides under your pajama shorts. He chuckle and moved his head even closer to yours, when he realized you're not wearing any panties. “Coincidence?”

Like everyone, you don't wear any underwear underneath your pajamas, because it's way more comfortable. However, you certainly didn't plan on deliberately not wearing panties, if something like this happened. However, Logan believed the version in his head, that you predicted the future and decided to not wear panties on purpose. Either way, the conclusion is the same, Logan has better access to your core.

You close your eyes and exhale softly, when you felt his cold fingers against your wet folds. "So wet, just because of me?" his rhetorical questions was turning you on even more. His dominance knew no bounds and so did his fingers, that were gently rubbing your labia. You bite your lips when he puts more pressure into his movements, trying not to look like a needy slut, even tho you were.

Everything around you started fading away, the only thing you could focus on was Logan and his fingers on your pussy. You could feel his growing dick trapped in his pants, poking your ass. Your instincts made you move your hips towards his fingers, rhythmically and without realizing provoking his dick. His breath started being cut off more frequently, you tortured him. You desperately wished you could read his mind right now, but you were too overhelmed to do so.

You lost yourself when he slowly insert his finger inside, finally making you whimper and throwing your head back, so you were leaning againts Logan's shoulder. “Oh you like that don't you?” He grinned, watching your scrunched face as he felt your throbbing arousal. His hips lightly rubbed against your ass, trying to feel some friction too.

You started seeing stars even so your eyes were tightly closed. Logan's handy finger was curling inside you, reaching that good spot you could never reach yourself. Wet juicy sound wafted through the kitchen and for a moment, you forgot where you are or what your name is.

“Good girl” he complimented you as he subtly slipped a second finger in. Stretching your walls while holding your neck tightly, showing who's in control, even though it was clear from the beginning. You were enjoying it so much, you had never felt such pleasure before. You move on your tiptoes as you felt the heat, spreading from your crotch to your whole body.

Logan's curling inside you picked up the pace, his hot breaths turned into chuckling, as he felt your clenching around him. "Come on baby" he supported you giving you a last straw. You left a load moan and cum on Logans fingers, before you relaxed and came back from your high. Your chest was moving rapidly, as you tried to catch your breath. Logan laughed and pulled his fingers out of you which he tasted and grunted. He didn't need to say anything to prove how delicious you are.

He released your neck and leaned his elbow on the counter, watching your red face. "You've never been touched before, have you?" he smirk, but before you could answer you heard a familiar coughing. You turn around and saw Jean, leaning against the doorframe. "What're you two doing here?" her arms were crossed and eyebrows furrowed. You had no idea how long she's been standing there, but you hoped not too long.

"Just talkin'" Logan saved your ass and wanted to leave the kitchen, but Jean grabbed his wrist and looked him deadly in his eyes. "Let me talk to you for a sec" she dragged him into the corridor without leaving him a choice. Jean pathetically thought she tricked you into not hearing their conversation, but she still doesn't realize how strong your telepathic powers are.

*Stay away from her* your sister angrily whispered to Logan, making you feel embarrassed, like you couldn't stand for yourself alone. *If you hurt her, I'll kill you* *Jesus calm down woman! Why should I hurt her?* You were deciding whether to leave or stay, but the second option seems better. You sip from your coffee as you were listening to Jean's confrontation. You couldn't help but think back to Logan's hand placement and even though it was just a few minutes ago, you missed it.

*If I ever see you with her again I-* *Don't worry, you won't, trust me* after that, you heard footsteps walking away. You quickly straightened up and peeked who walked first. When Logan made a quick eye contact with you, you got anxious. What if Jean really intimidated Logan and he meant all his words? But all these negative thoughts fell aside when he winked at you, before leaving your sight. You smiled and giggle under your nose, as you took another sip from your coffee.

"Fuck me sis" Jean breathed out, feeling exhausted like she just ran a marathon, even that it was just a stupid argument with Logan. You raised your eyebrows, your smile not leaving your face. "Somethin' wron-" "Are you serious?" you provoked Jean by pissing her off even more than she already was. "I told you to stay away from him" "Hmm no, you said not to fall for him and that he's a bad guy" you corrected her, keep smiling. She gave you a real nasty look that you've seen just couple of times. Now you knew you are fucked.

"Fine, I'm saying it now. Stay away from him, okay?" you wanted to pull up the fact that you are an adult so that she has nothing to command you, but you didn't want to piss her off even more. She already looked quite tired and it must've been pretty late. That's why you decided to be a good girl and submissively agree to her order. "Great...now go to sleep" satisfied with your answer, she exhaled and gave you another order to fulfill.

"Night sis" you walked past her, devilishly smiling while holding your cup of coffee with both hands. You knew that Jean was losing her temper with you, but you enjoyed it. On the way to your room, you could already feel the fatigue falling on you. But you still thought that if you didn't go get coffee, Logan's fingering would be plenty enough for a sweet sleep.

The next day went smoothly. You started smilling more, stopped being grumpy and helped with cleaning the school. All that happily surprised your sister, but she didn't complain at all. Your work was helpful. You mopped the floors, swept the dust and sorted the textbooks in a library. However, under normal circumstances, you wouldn't do these chores at all. Logan was your only and sufficient motivation.

Since the moment you woke up, you couldn't stop thinking about him. About his husky breath tickling your ear, his hand tightly holding your neck, his soft fingers curling inside you, poking your walls until you came. You couldn't stop thinking about him. Your highest record of the day was one minute, when there was uncleanable dirt on the floor and you had to go on all fours and scrub it with great force.

Your heartbeat raises whenever you met Logan in the hall, who gave you a slight smile and wink, creating a waterfall between your legs. The enthusiasm was so strong that you really volunteered to clean everything you could, even with joy. Logan brainwashed you so much without hypnotizing you in any way, he's really dangerous.

The whole day went by pretty quickly and before you blinked twice, it was dark outside again and the moonlight glittered nicely in the reflection of the flying dust. In addition to the high praise and involuntary hug from Jean, you also received recognition from Charles, which is said to be rare or something. Of course you appreciated that, but you didn't do it just for some praise. Your main intention was to meet Logan whenever and wherever you could. You were quite limited, since that order from Jean yesterday, but you always managed to throw a flirtatious smile at each other.

Just as yesterday, you were laying in your bed, reading your favorite book, which you've already read like five times. Even so, you get goosebombs all over your body, whenever you're done reading it. But today was a little different. You were already quite tired. After all, you were like a maid all day and you deserve a long rest, but your body needed something else. You need to feel Logan, at least see him, somehow interact with him. It felt like he was a part of you, of your body and without him, you wouldn't survive a day.

It was pretty late, when you checked the clock it shows an hour after midnight. All the students, including the teachers, are definitely asleep, except for you. Your sexual scenarios about Logan in your head couldn't leave you and your desire grows every second you think about him. If you could, you would have searched his room already, but the fear of Jean catching you again was bigger and kept nudging you in the back of your mind. What if she caught you durring the act? She would definitely send you back home and you can't risk that.

That's why you sigh with disappointment and decided to turn off the lamp and go to sleep, when suddenly your heard a soft knock on the door. You froze, deciding whether to go open the door or just shout from your bed. The first choice seems calmer and quieter. "Hey" you froze when you saw Logan standing in front of you. For a moment there you though his hidden power is mind reading too.

“H-hey” nervously with incomprehension in your voice you widened your eyes, that were filled with expectation. "I hope I didn't wake you up" he gave you puppy eyes that made your heart melt. Yesterday you didn't even have time to take a good look at his majestic face, which you saw properly when you met him for the first time.

"N-no I couldn't sleep anyway" you cough akwardly, your face still surprised from that shock. "Okay and um sorry to bother it's just…I ran out of toothpaste and I was wondering if I could borrow yours?" he shows you his toothbrush and empty toothpaste, looking at you through his thick eyebrows. You look down at the toothbrush, then back up into his chocolate coffee eyes, where you got lost for a moment.

“Yeah, sure come on in” you stepped aside and opened the door wider, leaving space for Logan to walk in. “Thanks, you're a life saver” you chuckle and close the door behind him. Adrenaline was starting to run through your blood at the thought of being alone with Logan in your room this late at night. If Logan could finger you in the kitchen last night, what can he do in your room now?

"Bathroom is?" "Oh right there" you pointed at the door right next to the massive wardrobe. He nodded and smiled, before disappearing in that room. You sat down on your bed, right in front of the bathroom door, staring at them, your mind filled with millions of scenarios about Logan. Was that a sign that he appeared in your room just now? Or did he do it on purpose? Or was that a fate? Those, maybe pathetic questions, filled your head together with the imaginations and your mind was a total mess by now.

You were so busy with your thoughts that you didn't realize how fast time was flying and suddenly, Logan emerged from the bathroom. You quickly shake your head and smiled at him. “Thank you” he smiled back and walk slowly towards you. Your smile fade away and your face turned into craving one. "But there's something else I need" he licked his lips, his eyes flicked from your bottom to your eyes. You knew what he was implying and you shivered with anticipation. "W-what is it?" you harshly asked, your heart beating really fast, in a moment you though it would even burst out of your chest.

“You know damn well princess” he put a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek. "Read my mind" he commanded and didn't need to tell you twice to do that. You saw an image of you and Logan, in the exact same place as you are right one, just with one difference. You were sucking his dick. Your eyes widened when you went back to reality, looking deep into Logans eyes, which were black, full of lust.

"Can you do that for me darlin'?" he rubbed your cheek as you were leaning into his touch. The warm from his palm spread all over your face. A flame of fire began to form between your legs, making your core pulsating and clenching around nothing. When you pit yourself together, you nodded and grab the waistband od Logan's pants. He watched your every move, his erection already twitching with impatience.

"That's right..." he whispered, caressing your cheek and hissed, as his pants fell on the floor and the cool air touched his dick. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him in his full beauty. You've never seen this in real life, moreover, so close and so huge. The thought of him being inside your mouth or inside you excited you, but also scared you at the same time. You licked your lips as your mouth filled with saliva.

"Come on, open your mouth" Logan slides his massive hand into your hair, scratching and massaging your head. You swallowed loudly before opening your mouth and approached his tip. “Grab it” he quickly ordered before your lips even touched him. Your eyes met his, as you wrap your hand around his base, making him breathe out loudly. "That's it, now your mouth" he gently, with a little bit of strength, pushed your head closer to his penis, till his pink tip was fully covered with your wet lips.

He kept pushing you forward, hissing. "Yeah baby...that's it" you were already halfway through, his tip touching your throat already. "Now your hand" you instantly understood his short sentences. You slowly began to stroke him off, but your mouth was stiff. Logan helped you, pushing your head back and forth. Your eyes were glued on his, as you were watching him licking his lips and quietly whimpering. “Mhm good girl”

Your eyes started filling with tears as the pace of your sucking and the strength of your hand quickened. Logan was slowly losing his senses as he tried really hard to reach his climax. His hips thrusting inside your mouth, slowly at first, but gradually speeding up. Your innocent face from tears, while you had his dick in your mouth, was driving him crazy.

"Yes...yes" he clenched his teeth, the wolf look on his face makes your panties soaked. "Ohh yeah" he threw his head back, your hot mouth felt like the best pussy he ever had. He couldn't last long, few more moves of your head makes him curl his toes and dropped his jaw. "Fuck!" that was his final moan, before he emptied his balls inside you, pushing your head so far, that your nose bumped into his lower stomach.

His heavy breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the room. He gave you a soft grin, gently wiping your tears from your blushed face. "You're so beautiful" Logan grunted, making you chuckle as you lick the remains of his cum from your lips. "But I'm not done with you" he got on his knees and gave you a lustful smirk. Before you could manage to recover from previous activity, Logan held your thighs tightly, spreading them far enough to make your pussy peek through the soft fabric of your pajama shorts.

“God..." he huffed as he saw your wetness already leaking on the sheets. "You are the muse of all my wet dreams" he groans as his face was dangerously fast approaching your core. "From the moment I saw you," his hands slides under your shorts. "I wondered how you taste" without a second thought, he tore off your shorts and tossed them aside. You gasped, adrenaline racing through your body.

Logan gave you one last devilish grin, before burying his face into your pussy. You immediately throw your head back and grab his silky hair, as you bit your lips tightly. His tongue was briskly without mercy moving around your labia, sometimes gently slipped in, but he always doubted only on the surface. You tried your best to keep your moans and whimpers in quiet, but it was impossible.

"Logan" you rolled your eyes as his nose poked your sensitive clitoris, pushing you further to the edge. Your hands tugging his kitty hair, whenever he find that good spot. However, this was all just a foreplay, as the real fun began when he finally slid his tongue inside you.

Your jaw fell open and you put your head back in place as you watched Logan's face. His sideburns brushing and tickling your skin, leaving red marks. His eyes met yours, they were so dark that you could see your reflection in them. You loose it all when he smiled at you, his teeth brushing against your core. He held firmly your thighs, as your natural instinct made you move your hips to the rhythm of Logan's tongue.

His groans send pleasurable waves into your lower stomach, sending you even closer to your orgasm. His clever tongue was stretching your walls, tasting your juice and sucking your skin as much as he could. He sense that you were close, not only because of your uncontrollable moaning of his name and not only because his animal instincts sensed it, but mainly because of your clenching around his wet hot tongue.

You tried to ride on his face, to finally reach what you desired all day and what you deserve, but Logan was too malicious to indulge it to you that easily. He removed his tongue from you just a second before you'd finally release. You let out a disappointed breath, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion as you look at Logan.

"Not so easy princess" he climb on top of you, making you fall on the bed submissively. "I wanna feel you" he kissed you hungrily, not wasting any time and pushing his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste yourself. You immediately started cooperating, not only with your mouth but also with your hands, which you wrap around Logan's neck.

His hands were traveling through your whole body, trying to memorize every inch of you just by a touch. Soft moans left your mouth matching with Logan's impatient growls. You were relaxed until you felt something poking in your inner thigh.

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets, when you came back to your senses. You stopped kissing him and pushed him away a little. "What?" he whispered, his eyes full of lust but his eyebrows were furrowed, confused. You hesitate for a moment, whether to tell him or not, but every time you felt his tip against your private area, you heart skipped a beat and the stress level were rising incredibly fast.

"I am um...virgin" a really quiet, almost silent whisper left your lips and your cheeks started turning red. The embarrassment and shyness raced through your blood, as you waited for Logan's reaction. He chuckled, showing his bright white teeth. "I know" you gave him a confused expression. Your mind started wondering who told him that and started suspecting Jean. "I don't need to read minds to figure that out"

Before you could recover from Logan's words, his lips were on yours again. You were relieved that he took the information in stride and you weren't so nervous anymore. It wasn't long before his hands were under your t-shirt which was gone in the blink of an eye. Likewise, Logan's shirt also ended up somewhere on the floor and your naked bodies were firmly attached to each other.

Your heart was beating, your veins were pulsing and your core was already clenching around nothing, yet. After a long make out session, Logan pulled away from you a little. His eyes looked into yours and he could feel your fear and excitement at the same time.

"I'll take care of you" his palm cupped your cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. You close your eyes and nodded, trying to calm your breath down. He really gave you the sense of security that you needed the most at the moment. Logan gently kissed you, before you felt his wet tip inserting between your labia.

You squeak between the kisses, the pain started increasing as Logan pushed deeper and deeper. "It's alright it's alright" he whispered, his lips still glued to yours as his hips moved forwards. Your face tensed while trying to ignore the pain. It felt like his dick is endless and he kept pushing, leaving no room for anything else inside you. Before long, he was fully inside you. Logan waited, the kissing sound filling the silent room and your walls got expanded.

It only took a few more passionate kisses and eager touches, before you got the urge for some friction and started really slowly moving your hips. Logan smiled devilishly as his lips were still firmly fixed on yours, a low chuckle left his throat. "Oh someone is eager?" he started moving his hips too, matching your motions. At first he moved slowly and carefully, his intention wasn't to hurt you but to please you.

His pace was smooth and gentle, whenever his balls touched your ass, you whimper as much as your vocals let you. Logan tried to keep kissing you, but when his thrusting started to pick up the pace, he couldn't focus on your lips anymore.

You lost all your senses the moment Logan's tip reached your cervix and started poking into it. His eagerness to reach his orgasm took over him so much, that he lost control of his hips. He was thrusting into you as fast and hard as he could, your moans getting louder and caressing Logan's eardrums. Your room was filled with nothing but synchronized sighs, wet clapping sounds and bed creaking.

“Jesus….fuck” it was clear from Logan's choppy moans that he was on the edge. His tip was twitching inside you, every vain was about to burst and drops of sweat from his forehead fell on your naked body. He looked like a wild animal and that only added to the atmosphere. You started feeling the heat in your lower abdomen and the need to pee was increasing. Your nails dug deep into Logan's back, while he was clenching his predatory teeth.

"C'mon darlin'" he caressed your cheek a few times, wiping your tears away. He knew you were close thanks to your clenching core that sends him even faster to his orgasm. One, two and on the third hard thrust, you tensed your whole body before you completely relaxed and cum on his cock. You arched your back and moaned loudly, tears falling from your eyes. Logan was still going, desperately trying to reach his orgasm too. Your face makes it easier to finally inject everything into you and before you recovered, he pulled out and cum on your stomach.

White sticky liquid was covering your stomach, while both of you tried to catch your breath. Logan collapsed next to you, closing his eyes and gaining some energy, before he hugged you and pulled you closer to him. You automatically cooperate and laid your head on his muscular shoulder. You were quiet, your nostrils were massive as you were still trying to catch up the oxygen that you lost during the previous act.

You looked up at him, admiring his red sweaty face, which still looked majestic. It didn't take long, until Logan locked his eyes with yours and smiled, as he rubbed your arm. "What're you thinking about hm?" without realizing, your smile fades into a neutral expression. You sigh sadly and break eye contact. "I'm thinking about Jean's words..." it was quiet briefly. "What words?" you were thinking, whether to tell him the truth or not. "She told me that you just going to use me and then throw me away like a piece of garbage..." you decided to tell him the truth, even if it might affect him.

"Really? Is that what she said?" he chuckled mockingly, making you look at him again. But your disappointed and thoughtful face didn't change. Logan sensed your worry and sighs. "Read my mind" he said with a low rough voice, waiting for you to do so.

You saw yourself and Logan, sitting at a checkered blanket in the middle of the park while Logan fed you with strawberries. You giggle, but it wasn't the only vision that warmed your heart. Suddenly you were at the cinema, holding hands and while you were paying attention to the movie, Logan was mainly watching you. The next vision was in the kitchen, you baking cookies together. You also couldn't notice the small detail, that you were wearing his sweatshirt. These were enough reasons to make you blush and conjure up smile from ear to ear.

"I don't want to use you and I definitely don't want to throw you away like a piece of trash..." he pulled you even closer. "I'm serious bub" Your teeth started showing, as you couldn't stop blushing. "I really like you like a lot and uh…” you cut his speech by kissing him. It was cute but a soothing slow kiss that reassured you both, that you meant it. When you pulled out, Logan tiredly grinned and placed a soft kiss on your forehead.

You just watched each other for a while, enjoying each other's presence while you were still naked and your stomach still dirty with Logan's cum. "You tried it on Jean even though she was in relationship?" you asked suspiciously. Logan chuckled and shook his head. "Yes but not anymore" "Uh huh" you jokingly agreed, making Logan furrow his eyebrows. “You don't bealive me?" "I do" you agreed provocatively.

Logan devilishly smirked and attacked you, making you laugh and giggle. After a short tickling and prodding, Logan finally stopped. "Let's get you clean up bub" he said after he noticed his semen still laying on your naked body. He picked you up like a princess and carried you to the bathroom, where you both showered with a few passionate kisses and ended up clean and fragrant under the covers.

You fell asleep in his arms, being the happiest person in the whole world at that moment.

You woke up thanks to the rays of the sun that annoyingly shines directly into your eyes. You inhale before looking up, smiling as you saw Logan's sleepy face. His hair was tousled and he smelled like home. You wanted nothing more.

However, this beautiful early morning moment was interrupted by footsteps approaching your door. You knew right away that it was Jean and before you could wake Logan, she quietly opened the door. "Good mornin'!" she whispered and smiled. You nervously smiled back, unfortunately broking your promise. You controlled her mind so that she wouldn't see Logan sleeping right next to you, naked.

It must've worked because she was still looking at you with a massive smile on her face. "I won't bother you anymore…just get ready for breakfast, then you'll go help me with books!" You grunted in annoyance before Jean finally closed the door, leaving you two finally alone.

You dropped your head and sigh. "You cunning woman" you heard a dark raspy voice next to your ear, before Logan showered you with millions of meringue kisses on your cheek. You playfully giggle, trying to push Logan away, but it was useless.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked after he finally let your face go. You nodded, giving him a questioning look that asked him the same. "Well, since I slept next to the most amazing girl in the world...I slept great" he gave you another passionate kiss, filling your stomach with butterflies.

You don't know how to say it or explain it to Jean yet, but the only thing you know 100% is that Logan fucks really good.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Mafia!König x Florist!Reader?

You sell flowers. Nice little bouquets for teachers and housewives who want to make their routine a little brighter. Cheap ones, mostly wild things - you'd have to swat at the bees trying to get a bite, apologizing for messing with the natural pollination. You sell big, expensive things - graduation gifts, consolidations roses. Man coming in and trying to count how much their cheating was worth - and how much they could pay in ribbons for missing an important date. Then Konig came in, and brought at least 10 orders for funerals. Crimson-blood roses, expensive white lilies. Died black ribbons and some nice plastic dark plants to finish the composition. At first, you said you were really sorry for his loss, then you thought he ran a funeral home - he looked the sorts, a bit creepy and big. His mask covers the lower half of his face, the hood of his nice jacket - Patagonia, you think, out of your pay grade - dropping over his eyes. He ordered expensive bouquets of funeral flowers every other week - never the wreaths, just bouquets. Sympathy arrangements. The first he paid in cash - crispy new banknotes, looking too good to be true, made you look at them through the light and apologize - he grazed your hand in his when you gave him the change. Konig wrapped his fingers around yours for a second, held a bit too long - you didn't know what to say, so you said nothing. He grumbled something and left. He buys funeral flowers, and you aren't sure if you're curious or terrified. One night you went home a bit too late - boss asked you to close for a bit more of cash, and you can't really disagree with your late for a week rent - and you came across some weird guy. Dangerous guy. You clutched your hand around your pepper spray - useless, EU-safe kind - and then shrieked when a bullet got through the guy's skull. You think it was the first time you actually saw a gun. Heard a gun. Konig holds your hands as you scramble to your feet, and this time, he doesn't let go until you stop trembling. Pockets the gun like it's a normal Friday, and puts a worried hand over your waist. He still doesn't talk - a slight tremble in his head gives away his nerves - but he silently follows you home like a big dog. You have half a mind about letting him in, but he just stares, his head not dipping into your apartment. Next time, he buys flowers - red roses, pink lilies, dyed whites and tiny pink ribbons. He sets the bouquet on the counter for you - you don't have the heart to tell him you're sick of flowers after working with them all day, but he gets it without words. Sees your expression, nervous twitch of your lip - and silently leaves. You aren't even surprised when you're dragged into an undisclosed vehicle after your shift, your head dropping on the wide lap of a man in a suit, his red hair slightly messy from the hood he pulled off, and his Patagonia acting like a blanket over your trembling form. Konig drapes a hand over your ass and settles it near, tapping on your asscheek in a nervous rhythm. Something tells you you're about to find out where all the bouquets went.

[snowballseal]

Tipsy Tricks

Sylus X Reader

Summary: You and Sylus agree to focus on work for a little bit, meaning you don't have time to see each other. That is...until you get a panicked call from the twins saying their boss is drunk and needs someone to cuddle with.

Word Count: 1836

Note: FLUFF - Sylus is drunk, but honestly, I feel like he can handle his alcohol well so he does a bit of acting. It's all just to get your attention and he's a little more clingy. Also, Luke and Kieran my beloveds.

---

“Miss, we need your help!”

You blink at the sudden shout that comes through your phone the moment you answer it.

“Luke?”

“Please Miss! Boss is not acting himself!”

“Kieran? Wait- hold on, just-”

“Ah! We’re too late!”

“Please Miss, come save us!”

You blink again as the call ends just as abruptly.

What the-?

You stare at the now dark screen for a long moment, just trying to process what happened. It’s late, late enough that you’re already dressed in your pajamas and winding down in bed. The last thing you were expecting was to get such a panicked call from Luke and Kieran.

What were they even talking about? Why do they need saving? Is something wrong with Sylus?

The thought wedges into your chest like a thorn, sharp and uncomfortable. You hadn’t heard from the Onychinus leader - your lover - in a few days due to his busy schedule. Neither of you liked it, but you agreed it was best he just focus on work, and you’d do the same to keep yourself occupied.

Getting a call like this only makes your anxiety skyrocket.

You don’t even bother wasting the time to change, throwing a coat over your pajamas and snatching your keys as you hurdle out the door. 

---

“Miss!!! Oh you’ve come to save us, thank you!”

Luke and Kieran throw the door open before your knuckles even touch it. You jump back, chest heaving from having run all the way from the transport station. They look just as frazzled, well, as frazzled as two men in masks can look. 

“What’s wrong? Is Sylus okay? Why are you guys freaking out?” You shoot out questions quickly, grabbing one of the twins by the shoulders. “You guys were infuriatingly cryptic over the phone! Seriously, who calls in the middle of the night like that?”

“We’re sorry,” Luke leans in, trying to rescue his brother from your vicious grip, “We just didn’t know what to do. Boss hardly ever gets like this!”

“He kept talking about you so we figured you could help us,” Kieran insists, ducking away with the help of his brother.

“Okay, but what’s wrong? Is he hurt?” You press for more details, concern only growing. “What happened to make him act weird?”

“He’s drunk.”

…

Your jaw shuts with an audible click, going tense as you stare at them incredulously. Seriously? All of this, all of the panic, the urgency, because Sylus got drunk? You take a deep, slow breath, trying to ease the immediate desire to knock their heads together.

“Let me get this straight. You’re telling me that you called me. In the middle of the night. After I had settled down for bed. Screaming bloody murder over the phone. Because Sylus had too much to drink?”

“...yes.”

“That’s right.”

You close your eyes. Another deep breath. Slowly, the panic that had washed over you recedes, leaving a sliver of irritation and amusement. You really should expect nothing less from them.

“Okay,” you sigh and prop your hands on your hips. The two seem to relax, like they had actually expected you to smack them. Which you might have, if they hadn’t sounded truly distressed earlier. “So why is this such a bad thing? Sylus is an adult, he can handle being a little drunk, but you two are acting like the world is ending. Why?”

“Well you see-”

“Boss gets incredibly physical when he’s drunk-”

“Not in a violent way-”

“Unless he’s around people he doesn’t like.”

“Right.”

You blink slowly at them, “...so?”

“It’s scary!” Kieran crows.

“It’s like having a kodiak bear trying to give you a hug!” Luke adds, curling his fingers in a gesture you’re sure is meant to mimic said bear.

“We love the boss, but we can’t handle him like this.”

“And he kept asking for you! So we called.”

Ah.

You take a moment to really process all of it. Sylus is drunk. Sylus is a touchy drunk…

It’s too good to pass up on

“Alright, boys,” you hum, an excited grin slowly spreading across your lips. You clap both of them gently on the shoulder. “I’ll take it from here. You can go hide wherever you usually do.”

“Thank you, Miss.”

“We knew calling you was the right decision. Please take care of our boss.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The twins skitter off as soon as you let them go, leaving you alone in the foyer. You quietly slip your coat off, hanging it up properly before making your way further into the base. Not knowing exactly where Sylus could be, you check all the obvious places. The bar. His bedroom. The kitchen. All of which are empty.

Finally you come to the den. Each step makes your heart race a little quicker, the thick silence putting you on edge. A drunk person shouldn’t be so hard to find. But as you step into the room, looking over every nook and cranny (despite how large the man in question is), you once again find it empty.

Where on earth could he be?

“My, my, a kitten’s wandered into my home.” You nearly jump out of your skin when an arm curls around your waist, drawing you back against a solid chest. The familiar warmth of his touch is like a balm to your nerves. You glance over your shoulder, gaze meeting a pair of sleepy vermillion eyes, their depths hazy and dark. “You broke our agreement, sweetie.”

You bite back a smile, “Maybe I wouldn’t have had to if a certain someone hadn’t gotten tipsy and scared the boys.”

Sylus huffs, his face dipping to nuzzle into the crook of your neck in an uncharacteristically soft show of affection. His breath is dizzyingly warm against your skin, his nose tracing featherlight along the column of your throat, like he’s breathing you in. It makes you feel dizzy. You clutch onto his arm to anchor yourself, breath hitching when his lips press tenderly against your racing pulse. 

“I’ve missed you.” 

The words are a mere whisper, the sound rumbling through his chest, so deep you can feel it with how his body leans into yours. You let out a shuddering breath, eyes flickering shut.

“I missed you too, Sy.”

So much. You didn’t want to admit to yourself just how much his absence had been wearing you down. Little by little until you could feel the gaping emptiness, like a stream carving a canyon. You were homesick. And it makes your heart flutter to know he felt the same.

“How about we sit, huh?” You suggest softly, and his arms tighten. Turning your head, despite the awkward angle, you press a reassuring kiss to his silvery locks, “I’m not going anywhere, love. I can’t support your weight much longer, though.”

Seemingly appeased, Sylus lets out an understanding hum. In a puff of black smoke, you find yourself settled on the couch, your back pressed into the soft leather with Sylus laying on top of you, his arms still curled around your waist, head resting on your chest. He nuzzles into you like a cat, letting out a long, drawn out sigh.

It’s adorable really. And jarring. While Sylus has never shied away from being affectionate, it’s always been in his rough, teasing way. This feels tender. Vulnerable. While you were originally planning to tease him to no end, you find yourself overwhelmed with a gentle kind of adoration for the man, your fingers softly fussing with his hair.

“You know, I think I like this side of you.”

“Hmmm, is that so?” Sylus mumbles sleepily, his eyes barely open as he gazes up at your face.

“Yah,” you breathe, tracing the relaxed line of his brow, fingers skimming down his cheek to brush the corner of his lips, “You’re acting so cute and docile. Maybe I should start calling you kitten.”

Even sleepy Sylus won’t let that stand. The second your fingers graze his lips, he nips at them, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you snatch them back, inhaling sharply. Heat curls in your chest, matching the heat burning behind his gaze as he flashes you that lazy yet dangerous smile.

“Don’t mistake my affection for passivity, sweetie,” he rumbles, pushing himself up just enough to graze his lips against yours, the smell of expensive alcohol and his rich cologne clouding your senses. “You should be more wary of a man when his restraints are loose. There’s no telling what he might do once you fall for his trap.”

Ah. You hold back a giggle, eyes narrowing up at him with mirth. So that’s what this was all about.

“Trap, huh? Is that what this was? Did you get tipsy and scare the twins on purpose so they’d call me?”

Sylus doesn’t look ashamed for even a second, offering a nonchalant shrug. The way his ears go red, though, tells you that you’ve hit the nail on the head.

“Aw, you did all that just cause you missed me?” Reaching up, you loop your arms around Sylus’ shoulders and draw him even closer. Your lips brush his as you murmur, “You could have just called, pretty bird.”

“And what fun would that be?” Sylus tilts his head, eyes flickering down to your lips. 

He wants to kiss you breathless, the sensation of your lips ghosting against his driving his already muddled thoughts wild. The way you look under him, hair a mess, dressed in such cute pajamas, is a perfectly tempting image, but it’s the fact that he can’t quite think straight that makes him hold back. While getting drunk was certainly a good way to get you here, it was not conducive to anything else he might want.

And simply having you by his side is enough.

You sigh as Sylus presses a sweet kiss to your lips. Unlike most of your kisses, this one isn’t about passion or hunger. Intense, yes, but intense in a way that feels like devotion. It’s reverent and slow, leaving a lingering hum under your skin as he draws away.

“Will you stay?”

Fondly, you rub your nose against his ever so slightly, “Of course.”

“Good.”

Sylus lowers himself back into you, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. Your arms loop around him, fingers going back to his hair. The silence that envelops you is comforting, the only sound being that of your mingled breath. His warmth covers you so completely, you can’t help but relax, eyelids growing heavier with each second that ticks by. Sylus’ breathing steadily grows deeper, lulling you further and further into sleep. Until you slip under, your lips pressed to his temple as you fall asleep.

And that’s how Luke and Kieran find you the next morning. Cuddled up, with their boss curled around you protectively, like two lounging cats.

You wake up to a notification on your phone.

The picture immediately becomes your new background.

(And secretly, Sylus also makes it his, too.)

---

Hope you enjoyed, my lovely fishies!!!