#more than i can properly gif

[anigst]

Hakuouki Movie 1: Kyoto Ranbu (2013)

[youngke]

"make the biggest heart you can for myday" well we love you back more 💟

[nebulousfishgills]

BROTHER YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME I'M IN DISTRESS

[hellguarded-moved]

SUBJECT: characters most relevant to the lore, be it by importance, how they've shaped and affected the world, or by their relation to ignis. tw: frequent mentions of drugs / narcotics, implied transphobia, implied rape, mentions of body dysmorphia, super long post.

≥ FILE 020: CONQUEST_

given name lucius. codename derived from his true name. the horseman of conquest and pestilence, he is the one that had given birth to the organization known as 'gonchiye.' translated from russian to mean 'hunting dogs,' it is advertised as a supernatural police force of sorts, meant to upkeep the law and balance in the society of non-humans. the truth is much more ominous than this noble goal lucius presents it to the public with.

the gonchiye was built upon the remains of an ancient pit fighter ring, where humans would imprison supernatural beings through the use of binding magic and make them fight for their entertainment. as time consumes all, lucius had eventually only found a sole survivor of it all— and decided to use this one as a test vessel for a new plague he was developing for the inevitable apocalypse, that would be brought for once the time was nigh; lucius is the second oldest of the horsemen, and even though he rode first, he leaves leadership of the group to the eldest, death. he rides upon a white horse, going by the name glory, and his weapons of choice are a bow and arrows.

the truth beyond this organization is that it is the horseman's way of preserving world balance. each of the four horsemen has their own way of going about it, and while some are more questionable than others... in the end, it is for the greater good of the world. or so they say. many, especially mortals, have any sort of understanding to actually comprehend this divine task. for lucius, this means eliminating targets that, in his opinion, endanger this delicate balance, as well as constantly improving. this could mean many things— be it in regards to biological or technological advancements. one could very easily classify the nephilim as a mad scientist, and they wouldn't be wrong.

lucius has an odd quirk in that he never uses abbreviations, verb conjugations, or contractions. his manner of speech is very proper, if not outright snobby. he is by no means a coward, but he is the type to make others do his bidding for him; it's the very reason why he utilizes the hundred of agents ( there are no more than a hundred active agents at any given time ) within the gonchiye to carry out tasks for him. tasks that are masterfully masked so that the true ambition behind them isn't discovered. generally speaking, there is but a handful of people within the organization aware of the truth, and all of those are under tight scrutiny— to the point of being collared with a collar infused with a special serum meant to make these beasts docile and easily compliant with his wishes. it isn't humane.

ignis is one such agent. once, he dared even to call lucius a friend. the two were rather close, due to them being of similiar ages. ignis is also one of the few people able to actually keep up against lucius in a fight. and they did fight. unfortunately, lucius possesses light magic, which is incredibly effective against an infernal like the hellhound— it has left him with an ugly scar across his chest. their friendship ended and relations became tense after ignis' failure with mission 298: to dispatch stormbringer.

with ignis' continual failures to deliver after that incident, he's set an execution order on him.

≥ FILE 057: LINCEI_

given name kalisha. codename derived from the italian accademia dei lincei, named after the lynx whose keen eye is neccessary for scientific research. kalisha is a nekomata of spanish and japanese origins, and was one of the very first members of the gonchiye. unlike most members who had joined voluntarily under the impression that they'd do some good in the world, to the lynx, it was offered as means of vengeance. kalisha harbors a deep hatred for humans from the times hunters had taken her husband and son, and she's never gotten over the loss. due to her then-violent tendencies, she was also one of the first agents to be collared.

the drug worked well, far too well perhaps, as not long after, her aggressive demeanor had mellowed out. a side-effect of this was the very prominent deepening of her voice, leaving it husky and nearly sounding like a chain smoker. once under control, she's been retired from field missions and was instead tasked with helping with the research— something that had allowed her quite the deep insight into the truth of just what lucius was aiming for. with her mind numbed like so, however, she did not have the willpower to do anything about it, other than simply play along.

that has changed once she was introduced to project talonshot. while their interactions were limited for the sake of conditioning naoto into a cold-hearted killer, she did end up doting on him and treating him like her own son. it could never be the same, and not just for the boy being different, but also due to the strict security within the gonchiye walls, she could never be as open with her affection as she could hope for. nevertheless? it gave her some hope and determination in perservering in these conditions.

ignis considers her his closest friend. both of them were early members, though she's never told him the truth about lucius and the things she's learned until much, much later. she believed she was protecting him this way. they had interest in each other at one point and had tried dating, but things never quite worked out, and so they simply stayed on friendly terms. she is someone ignis can talk about just anything, and he knows she has his back, while he has hers. they had numerously teased each other for their tastes in partners, especially once she'd learned that ignis had taken naoto as his lover and mate, but the truth was, she was very happy for them both; and would entrust her son to no one else.

kalisha eventually meets the current warlord of the red oni tribe and decides to stay with them ( or rather, they had rather forcibly kidnapped her from the gonchiye. she didn't resist or complain ) and become their queen as they became lovers and partners.

≥ FILE 094: NIHIL_

given name noctis. codename derived from his umbrakinesis and the ability to create black holes. about 500 years younger than his half-brother, he harbors immense jealousy towards ignis and has set out along with his cousin, eryx, to earth to seek him out and hopefully drag him back to their home in the underworld. was it selfish? certainly. did that stop them? no. noctis used to be rather clingy towards his older brother as a child, so seeing him run away from home like so was incredibly traumatizing; he practically idolized the hound.

contrary to his half-brother, who is the result of a hellhound and an erinye, noctis is a pureblooded erinye. he is rather apathetic and laughs at the misfortune of others. he is mean, but not neccessarily evil. his magic can be destructive and he can be rather ruthless in a fight. such talents had earned him the position of a saboteur; but not without a collar.

noctis is a trans man, but lucius knew that he possesses female biology, and took advantage of it. his genes were forcibly used in the creation of project talonslash, which has left the erinye with deep mental scars. he'd never felt insecure about his body until that very moment that someone abused it like so. as a result, he's come to loathe talon, even if the boy himself hadn't done anything wrong. long since losing ignis again after his exodus from the gonchiye did he not want to stay anymore, but getting out was never easy. this, though? this was the last straw.

≥ FILE 273: HELIOS_

given name sirius. codename derived from his title, 'the sun of the underworld.' sirius is the current hound of hades, something of a king of the hellhounds, inhering the title of cerberus that goes with it. such tradition is something ignis is aware of, therefore his bitterness about lucius choosing to designate the codename cerberus to him within the gonchiye.

sirius had an affair with tisiphone, an affair from which his ( currently ) only son was born. a bastard perhaps, but he still wished for him to take up the mantle of cerberus once it was time. unfortunately, tisiphone didn't agree with this; she wanted the child for herself, or at least, to have him make whatever choices he wished to later in life. fiercely protective, she hid herself and baby ignis within erebus, the shadowy pocket dimension of the underworld, only accessible to the erinyes and a few others. ignis did take after this fiery desire to be independent, maybe a bit too much, and yet, he felt like his mother was smothering him; not allowing him to leave erebus until... until what? he didn't know, and she never gave him the answer. eventually, he heard the call of hades; a call every hellhound must answer. one that only they hear, and cannot resist. under the influence of the call, he managed to break free of erebus.

that was the first time he and sirius met, some three hundred years since ignis' birth. perhaps a bit too enthusiastic to meet his son, sirius was quick to introduce ignis to just about everything that was to be expected out of him— once, they might have even ended up on good terms. but feeling that his father, too, wished to force his dreams and ideals onto him, ignis came to resent his father more than he did his mother. he swore to never become the next cerberus, or have anything to do with sirius at all. he avoided him like the plague.

sirius is an outgoing, charismatic, yet arrogant individual. he and ignis are quite alike, in both looks and personality, much to his dismay. nowadays, sirius realizes he might've been a little too pushy with ignis, and he regrets it greatly, as he would have loved to be on good terms with his son... he still hopes for as much, even if the rational part of him knows that will likely never happen.

another custom for the hound of hades is to take up two mates, so as to represent the other two heads of cerberus. sirius, dutiful as he is, eventually enters an arranged mateship with xolotl and tiangou, two guardian hellhounds from different cultures, later accepting the names of sol and luna, the sun and moon to sirius' star. this mateship is especially important in these trying times, where the guardian breed is near its extinction— sol is expected to carry the pups of both luna and sirius. this polyamory is yet another parallel between father and son, but ignis remains unaware of this so far.

≥ FILE 298: STORMBRINGER_

given name shinjou. codename derived from his ability to control lightning. this kitsune was the unfortunate patient zero as the sole survivor of the earlier-mentioned beast pit fight business. he was unaware of this predicament until much, much later, that this sickness had started to show itself. at first, it was simple nausea, then it turned into something akin to tuberculosis, and eventually, his very body had started to change.

shinjou is incredibly technically skilled, something of a mad scientist himself to rival lucius, but where lucius seeks the biological, shinjou is more interested in the mechanical. while being the head of a yakuza group called 'the order of the lotus,' in honor of his deceased father, he also owns a cybernetics company that specializes in highly advanced body implants and prosthetics. his twin brother had once lost an entire arm in a fight with a red oni ( this same oni had later also targeted shinjou and took his eye, leaving the fox blind in one eye ), and he was more than eager to provide for his brother with the technology he's developed. later in life he even attempts to build an adroid from scratch.

besides technology, shinjou is also a skilled sniper and hacker, on top of being a very influential person in kyoto— and slowly, all of japan, though for all the wrong reasons. the order had become feared, and its influence had even changed the widely-accepted meaning and symbolism of the lotus flower— where it once was a symbol of purity and rebirth, it is now something to be feared. shinjou experienced many hardships in his life, starting since childhood where he was exiled from the kitsune clan he lived in, for being born a twin, as twins were considered a bad omen. only one of the brothers was allowed to stay, and shinjou wasn't it— he never harbored any ill will against his parents or his brother for making that choice, however, only the clan elders. the twins were separated for most of their life before reuniting.

it only went downhill from there. getting caught and imprisoned within the fighting ring, which then cost his father's life, then getting used as a guinea pig, and even once he'd gotten out of all of that? he was adopted by a yakuza oyabun, who then taught him all that shinjou currently knows in regards to that kind of life. once the man had passed and shinjou took over, he renamed the group to honor his late father, and made it to be the most fearsome group kyoto had to ever deal with. all the misfortunes and abuse led to shinjou closing off his heart to love; and that was where ignis came into play, who'd, despite his own hardships, managed to stay soft and tender.

ignis was originally deployed as a long-time infiltrator agent into the order of the lotus, as per lucius' orders to learn all that there was, and then take him out before the plague had time to spread. this had gone on for twelve years, during which the hound, expectably so if you know anything about him, had developed romantic feelings for shinjou. he failed at pulling the trigger at the end, but shinjou still learned about the truth behind ignis' presence within the order— he was incredibly hurt by his betrayal, given just how much loyalty means to the fox. so much, that he insists every members gets a lotus tattoo ( hand for regular members, the neck for high ranked members ) to show their loyalty. and that's exactly what ignis did, and the fact that he bore the mark of the lotus and still stabbed him in the back like so? was something that broke the fox. one might have thought there was still some hope for salvation for him, but since then, he'd become unreasonably cold and cruel. he was letting no one close to him, ever again. even if later he'd found someone whom he calls a mate, a woman called abigail medusa, even with her the relationship is incredibly unstable and full of vitriol.

however, he still had to thank ignis. thank him for this opportunity to actually learn about the gonchiye, lucius, and the truth behind his undiagnosable illness. this meant war.

≥ FILE 309: TALONSLASH_

no given name. or? 'talonslash,' eventually simply referred to as 'talon' by his fellow agents for simplicity's sake ( despite lucius' disdain ) was purposefully left nameless upon his creation. project talonslash was meant to be the successor to project talonshot, which was, after ignis' influence and tampering, deemed a failure. the codename itself was derived from the mother project talon, plus a contrasting word to the original shot, as the birds were specialized as snipers.

talon is a very particular kind of a genetic experiment, as his dna consists of that of a tengu, falcon, and an erinye. noctis, to be specific. it was an ugly memory. this was made so that they could force his body into becoming resistant to physical stress, as that was deemed as one of talonshot's greatest weaknesses. they couldn't possibly make a durable bird assassin if they wanted him to remain swift and agile, and so, they went with the route that would make talon's body dissolve into shadows whenever exposed to immense physical trauma. therefore, it is incredibly difficult to actually wound him— if you manage to catch him in the first place. he struggles to actually control this side of himself, and everytime he is forced to dissolve like so, it leaves him feeling besides himself, in a nearly dissociative-like state.

his purpose, much like his predecestor's, is to be a living weapon. cold and heartless when taking the lives of his targets, and highly efficent at doing so. he is incredibly skilled with firearms as well as small hand weapons, such as knives. he also had extensive close quarters combat training, and while he excelled at it, it remains not his forte. talon much more prefers to pick his enemies off one by one from a safe distance, unseen. besides that, being agile as he is, usually leads to a more hit-and-run technique of fighting, plus he never properly learned how to handle and counter blows, due to how his body reacts to such assault. but given just what a dreadful feeling having to turn into a shadow leaves him in, he prefers to simply avoid getting hit altogether if he can help it.

despite his lack of identity and the ease at which he kills, he is a surprisingly bubbly and carefree character, if not a bit silly. naturally, he was allowed very little socializing and given even less affection while growing up, and while that had turned talonshot into the apathetic man that he is today, it seemed to have the very opposite effect on talonslash, leaving him childish and very eager to please. the primary person he seeks validation from is talonshot, whom he considers his older brother, even if their actual relation between them is a lot more complex. too bad he hadn't seen him for the majority of his life— only heard about him in stories, constantly compared to, and told just what kind of image he needed to live up to, and then subsequently surpass.

eventually, he was given the name hayato by none other than his brother upon finally meeting. as it is rather new to him, sometimes he still struggles to actually react to it should someone call him that— while he will always, without fail, respond to talon.

talon himself isn't incredibly important to ignis, rather he is important to his husband, naoto, and the one originally dubbed 'project talonshot.' their meeting and further interaction together was important for the development of them both; helping to find themselves among the scraps that the gonchiye had left them in.

honorable mentions, aka characters not played by me ( but @hellhunted ), but still very important:

≥ FILE 093: ORTHRUS_

given name eryx. codename derived from the mythological brother of cerberus, which was the designation assigned to ignis, due to the brother-like relation between the two. eryx joined the gonchiye together with noctis, hence their numbers following one another's. lucius was quite eager to have another hellhound at his disposal thanks to their unique ability of phasewalking.

eryx is a very... airheaded individual. a lot of things go over his head, but his heart is in the right place. he never truly saw the gonchiye for what it was; he and noctis only joined it as means of getting ignis back. eryx was collared nearly right from the start as precautionary measure, as lucius did not want to take any possible risks, having witnessed what troubles the elder hound could, and had, caused him.

ignis was something of an older brother to eryx while they were growing up together in the underworld. but where ignis ached to escape it, eryx wished to remain home. in his selfish desire for as much, ignis had abandoned the younger hound without a word on numerous ocassions. he feels great guilt about this all, but it just never seems like a good time to actually stop and tell him— and his cowardice prevents him from actually ever seeking him out and properly apologize. what kindship they had, is slowly dying out.

≥ FILE 308: TALONSHOT_

given name naoto. codename derived from the mother project talon, plus the word shot to signify his specialization as a sniper. talonshot was lucius' first attempt at dna splicing to create a perfect being with the exact kind of traits he desired. it was... mostly a success. naoto was intelligent and effective, and excelled at everything they put him to, which really mostly just involved assassinations with no feelings attached— something he noticed a lot of his agents often struggled with. to separate their duty from their emotions. ignis especially. but what was especially important and unique about naoto? was that, since he was just the first prototype at this kind of bioengineering for the future, he was also made disposable. 'talonshot' had an expiration date.

talonshot's purpose was to take care of the most important mission lucius had once entrusted ignis with— nowadays he really wonders just why he'd ever trusted that sap with something like this —to take out stormbringer. not only was naoto then succumbed to years of intense training to make sure he was ready for that encounter, his blood was also, since birth, infused with the antibody to the horseman's plague. he was meant to contain the plague, to get rid of the first specimen who wasn't meant to escape, before it started to spread prematurely, before the world was ready for the apocalypse. a clean state for the world was neccessary, but the time had to be right.

however, ignis was still the only person who had the most experience with stormbringer and as such, he was assigned as naoto's handler once he was out of initial basic care and training. they were still sent out on numerous other missions in gonchiye's name, but the long-term goal was to make sure that talonshot knew how to properly employ all that he'd learned against his main target.

you cannot teach new tricks to an old dog though, so long story short, the two ended up falling in love. it was true that at first, ignis despised naoto and all that he was meant to represent, but more importantly— he despised just how all the higher-ups were treating him. like he wasn't a living, breathing being. it took years upon years to make naoto believe that that was who he was; his true name, and not 'talonshot.' ignis strongly believed that he could be an efficent killer if that was who he wished to be, but he didn't need to completely forego his identity for it— and so, the many years of secret relationship were also a lot about helping naoto discover who he was behind all the guns and bullets.

they eventually made it to japan again, fully determined to see talonshot's mission to completion, only for the kitsune to prove a much deadlier foe than either of them had anticipated. ignis' direct orders were to not interfere, to let naoto handle it himself. but once he saw his boyfriend, his mate, nearly on death's door? he didn't hesitate. he'd saved him, paid a heavy price for it as he'd transformed into his true form to do so, and in the end, he still left the fox to live. his mate was alive, but he'd effectivelly ruined all he was working to achieve. enough said that naoto was furious at him— and so was lucius, which eventually led to him marking ignis as a traitor, and a kill order was issued on the hound.

naoto eventually forgave ignis, in fact, he'd eventually even proposed to the hound— the first man to ever do so, no less —and once he was chased out of the gonchiye, he followed after him. they've been on the run ever since, trying for some measure of a normal life, only to be crossed by the more loyal gonchiye agents on a handful of ocassions— until they met rashida and her resistance.

≥ FILE 388: SERQET_

given name rashida. codename derived from the goddess that she was a priestess of in her human life. the first human ignis had ever come into contact upon earth; and also his first ( and, romantically enough, also last ) lover and mate. she was the one to teach him about humanity with a hands-on approach, she was the one to teach him the first human language ( ancient egyptian ) and how to live like a human. due to an injury acquired from his less-than-graceful escape from the underworld, ignis was stuck in his demon form for a good while before recovering, making that a little troublesome; the locals had come to believe that he was an avatar of anubis coming to bless them. once discovered a fraud, both him and rashida were chased out of the temple.

since rashida had shown him her own home, ignis suggested they visit greece; his home on the mortal plane. it was there, closer to the magic of the gods, that he managed to mend the damaged mortal seal and take on a proper human guise. they'd been separated on numerous accounts, oftentimes by means outside either of their's powers, and yet each time, they found their way back to one another. one time she'd died, not long after ignis was recalled back to the underworld against his own will upon hearing the call of hades once again ( as it was louder within greece— for that reason, he now avoids the country ), as many mortal human would, which was something ignis should have expected... and he did, and yet? he couldn't accept it. especially because it wasn't death by natural means. he came to beg persephone to have her resurrected— such a selfish wish of a selfish lover, not at all caring about the consequences it might have had on her. the goddess told him as much, but he wouldn't take no for an answer; eventually tasked to find her soul that had passed on so that she could protect it personally for the times to come, while the spring deity worked with the egyptian goddess serqet to help restore the woman's body.

it... proved problematic, naturally. suddenly inhabiting a soulless vessel, turned into a demon like so, and all for the canine's selfishness and inability to let go. he was warned, but he was willing to face it head on, and was given another hundred years together with her— to help her learn about herself, her new body, her new demonic abilities. it was rough, as the reborn demoness despised herself for being this way, that ignis had done this to her... it took a long time of learning and self-reflection for rashida to accept both herself and him, before... ignis was called back once again, now that his hundred years were up. not that he was willing to stay, but another escape proved more problematic than the last, far too much to actually still be able to find his lover where he'd unwillingly left her on earth. since then? he hasn't seen her again... not for another two thousand years.

due to her own traumas of being reincarnated and forcibly turned into a demon ( and therefore stripped of her soul ) found the drive to fight against the gonchiye and the horsemen, to protect the humanity. even if she didn't possess her own anymore, she still holds humans dear to her heart, and simply couldn't accept what the horseman was doing. she, and many others outside the system, had discovered the truth, and a lot of it was thanks to all the wrenches ignis and naoto had thrown into lucius' plans. an alliance between mortals and immortals was formed, and came to known as the resistance against the coming apocalypse; though more importantly, against all the inhume methods the horseman of conquest is employing to upkeep his precious balance. lucius still insists these puny beings cannot understand the neccessity and importance of a world reset, and so, these two factions are now at war.

these were the two thousand years that had passed, until she's met ignis again— though this time, now a married man. it hurt her heart, certainly, as did the hound's, given just how awful and guilty he felt for all the pain and trouble he put rashida through. nevertheless, she offered the two of them shelter from the gonchiye, after having learned that they were hunted by them— and not long after, even naoto had started to warm up to the demoness. they're all now happily together in a polyamorous marriage.

≥ FILE 523: EMPRESS_

given name persephone. codename derived from her sovereign status to match with her husband, hades, the 'emperor.' persephone was something of an anchor to ignis while he was chained in the underworld. she provided him with light, both literally and figuratively, and with stories of earth— one might even blame her for the yearning he's come to feel for it. he's even come to develop a crush on her but of course, such feelings were not reciprocated. nevertheless, she was the one to bless him with the mortal seal upon his shoulder, that allowed him to appear human and walk freely on earth.

[prismit]

ok so, one thing i REALLY HOPE they change in the next monster hunter game, is get rid of that weird target snapping thing the kinsect does? like, i appreciate forgiving hitboxes, but when it's on a weapon that relies heavily on hitting specific, sometime small and/or obscured parts on a moving target...

...it kinda just ends up making things harder??? (and not in a good way)

[lyril]

me explaining how king man and betty would probably end up a bit like mr peanutbutter and diane if they continued to stay together on mars instead of just working my damn fanfictioj about it

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[ub-sessed]

How Not to Break Your Sewing Machine

I work in a shop where we repair sewing machines (a LOT of sewing machines), and unsurprisingly we see a lot of the same problems over and over again, so I'm here with some advice on how to keep your machine running longer.

When you break a needle, dig around until you have found the broken piece. If you leave it in there, it can end up in the wrong place at the wrong time and break something vital.

SLOW DOWN. The function of your sewing machine depends on the different moving parts ending up in the right place at the right time. Having to go through a lot of/heavy material slows the needle down, but it doesn't slow down the mechanism underneath the needle plate. If you try to go your usual speed, the needle will arrive too late and collide with something it shouldn't, breaking either the needle or the bobbin case. If the material is especially heavy (say you're sewing several layers of denim, or sewing webbing onto canvas), take your foot off the pedal and turn the machine by hand.

Clean out the bobbin area after each project. Really. Your machine comes with a little brush for this purpose. If it doesn't, a little dollar-store paint brush will work just fine. Remember what I said above about things being in the right place at the right time? Everything needs to be able to move freely for this to work. I know it looks like it's just a little dust and fluff, but it will jam up your machine eventually.

If you can, get your timing adjusted by a professional. I know most people don't have a sewing machine repair shop in their neighbourhood, but if you can do this, it's worth it. If the machine's timing is good, then you're more likely to have a little leeway for heavier fabric or a lintier bobbin case. When the timing is just a bit off, it takes less of an obstacle to put the needle in a place it shouldn't be.

If you can, buy a machine built before 1980. If it's still working 50 years after it was made, it's gonna keep working. Those older machines are made with metal gears and therefore weigh a ton, so they're definitely not a good choice if you don't have a permanent setup for your machine, but it means they basically last forever. Newer machines are made with plastic parts, and no matter what you do, they will break.

Don't buy a Singer Heavy Duty. I'm sure those machines have their benefits, but they are absolutely not heavy duty. We repair more Singer Heavy Dutys than any other single model of sewing machine. If you're already stuck with a Heavy Duty, then follow my advice above even more scrupulously, and start shopping around for a replacement if you can. You can get a used sewing machine of better quality for significantly less than a new Heavy Duty.

To keep things working properly, make sure you're:

threading your machine properly

using the right kind of bobbin

adjusting your tension properly

and using the right kind of needle for the fabric you're sewing!

(These things are unlikely to break your machine, but they will keep it from sewing properly.)

Other than that, get your hands on your machine's manual and read it carefully. If you can, bring your machine in for a cleaning and adjustment now and then. Your machine will need repairs every once in a while: it's a lot of little moving parts! But these are some basic precautions you can take to avoid some common problems.

[screampied]

i saw this on my feed and how about sextherapist!sylus and virgin!reader that struggles with making themselves orgasm? you can go from there 🤗

warnings. — ☆ fem! reader, sēx therapist sylus, virgín reader, praise, dirty talk, semi public, first time squírt, fıngering, mdni.

“oh, so you really weren’t kidding—were you, kitten?” sylus hums, feeling you writhe around his lap in anticipation. you’re so up close to him as your back’s facing the opposite way of his chest. in the far distance, you hear a plethora of noises coming outside of his office. meaningless chit chatter from his coworkers, loud stomps echoing down the hall, his annoying fax machine that forevermore continues to spit out those same clicking cries, and so on. you’ve been attending sessions with sylus for quite some time now, and you just needed to know how to orgasm properly. you tried everything and nothing would work. according to you, it was dire and you wanted to know if it was as good as people say. “daydreamin’ again?” he coos huskily, hot breath colliding near the twitching shell of your ear. a veiny hand of his softly trails down your inner thighs, glancing at your slid to the side panties. “ah, look at her. she’s so gorgeous.”

“sylusss,” you hiss out his name, gingerly wrapping your clammy fingers around his broad cuffed wrist. “hurry up.”

the white haired man snickers at your agitation, and once he teasingly ghosts two thick fingers over your throbbing protected entrance—his chest rumbles from wry laughter. “my, you’re so impatient. but fine, fine. spread these pretty legs, let me see what we’re workin’ with.”

right away, you sprawl your legs out even further then before and you hear him whistle.

“what a sight,” he purrs, and your head slumps back against his chest. it was almost half past ten at night and sylus was technically off work. your session ended about an hour ago but you just persisted that you needed one more thing.

an orgasm.

your nostrils smell his musky scent of loud rich leather and sandalwood that’s smothering all over his clothing. he brushes a thumb over the lace fabric of your panties before feeling just how soaked you were. “cute, bet you were soaked like this the entire time we were chattin’, hm?”

“f- fuck,” you swallow, and a plump tip of his finger gradually pulls at the string of your underwear. you remain laid back against his lap, gnawing at the bars of your enclosure.

the two of you were sitting on a fat cushioned sofa that’s dipping inward from the heavy pounds of weight. sylus was slow — painfully slow, he knew what he was doing. he lets out a raspy chortle, hearing your slow needy breaths featuring each exasperated gasp that leaves from your lips. “sylus, please.” you moan through gritted teeth, the wait just becoming unbearable.

sylus shushes you, pressing his soft lips up near the sloping nape of your neck. “there there,” and he talks over your whines before within seconds, a finger slowly inserts its way inside. you gasp, feeling your tummy heave. his finger was long, not only that but it was very very thick. you started to hear your heartbeat dramatically thump through your ears as he continues to speak. “pay attention now, this right here?” and you whimper, feeling his middle finger swirl around inside of your pussy. he taps against a spot that makes you feel almost every nerve shoot your body. “this is the clit, kitten. and this,” and you moan, hearing the sloshing sounds of your own mess fill the room. sylus gradually plugs in another finger - his pointer finger, and it fully extends immediately, reaching a spongy spot. “this is my favorite, your pretty g-spot.”

“s- sylus,” you suck in a frustrated breath, realizing that he had not one but two fingers inside. he’s very gentle regardless . . gentle and undeniably slow. oh, the wait was killing you. with your flapping lashes fluttering back against your hooded eyelids, you couldn’t help but gnaw at your quivering bottom lip. this was so much better than your own fingers. his was far longer and experienced. his plump lips starts to kiss near your neck this time, softly lolling his tongue down your skin, craving more of your sweet taste. “more, f- finger me.”

“yes ma’am,” he jibes, and it takes him a few dreadfully long seconds before he’s finally making haste. the tone of sylus’s voice was so deep that it nearly shakes you to the very core—you feel his exact rough vibrato against you. he hears the irregular changes of your breathing whilst his fingers continue to roam inside of your cunt.

“mhm, there’s about over ten thousand pretty little nerves stored up in here,” and he’s just casually talking over your babbling whines. the tips of his fingers were now already so soaked with your sappy slick. it’s gluing against his digits effortlessly — sweet like honey. your folds were just drooling, and every so often, he pulls his fingers out just to stare at the slippery sloppy mess. “how’s it feel? talk to me, sweet girl.”

as your body resumes to tingle from the circular maneuvers of his two fat digits, you let off a loud moan, peering at your left thigh that’s starting to mercilessly shake. “good—fuck, so good,” you whine, the stimulation making you merely bite down on your tongue. sylus hums in amusement, noticing how your thighs would just fail to stay still—it’s cute, you’re a jittery mess but your hand finds it’s way wrapping around his wrist again. “faster,” you plead, and your eyes nearly roll back once he’s just repeatedly toying with your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again.

your gummy walls accepted sylus’s fingers freely and it was so snug, your mouth can’t help but start to salivate once you realize you’re coming close. he’s quick, plummeting such inches of just two simple digits in and out of you at such a maddened pace. he’s using his entire wrist, his finger work had your toes curling in awe.

“ah, easy now kitten. just relax and bare around ‘em. there’s no rushing a pretty pussy this sloppy,” and he’s speaking right up against your ear again. if you weren’t throbbing then, you definitely were now. sylus even licks against the edge of your ear, giving it a playful nibble. “c’mooon, give me that orgasm, uh huh. make me proud, sweetie.”

“hngh, s-sylus,” you whimper out loudly, your entire body growing tense. sylus’s free hand creeps toward your tummy, softly caressing against your bare skin that’s loosely tucked underneath your blouse. this was so risky. anyone could just walk in and see you - you and him, but you didn’t care—you didn’t care, especially when you were so close to making a mess all his sofa. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“let go for me,” he whispers, and his tone was so soothing. it’s almost as if he wasn’t inches deep inside of your swollen pulsating cunt with two thick fingers. in and out, he’s shoving them in and out of you, twisting them around and curling them all throughout your gripping walls. fuck, your toes were scrunched up, feeling such rippling waves surge through you. you were almost positive that if it wasn’t for the help of his hand holding you steady in place against his lap, you’d fall right from his grasp. sylus brings one final kiss toward the back of your collarbone before humming. “atta girl. just give it to me. c’mon, all on my fingers.”

but abruptly, right as you’re coming undone, you feel yourself spraying your translucent slick all on his pumping fingers. a shrieking scream dies from the back of your throat and he finds it oh so cute.

sylus feels you pulsing around him and he grows quiet—you huff out heavy heaving breaths, realizing that you’re squirting. it only lasts for a few seconds but it felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “oh my g- godddd.” you collapse back against his chest, his fingertips delicately plying with your prodding g-spot for just a few seconds longer before he pulls them out. slowly, sylus retracts his digits out of your puffy cunt, watching how it’s now glistening with your honeyed sap.

“aw,” he breaks the silence, hearing your pussy squeal again with numerous squelches as he’s dragging out his two drenched fingers. you’re still so sensitive, it’s like your entire body was burning up with fiery scorching hot heat. it’s intense, your thighs shamelessly try to squeeze themselves shut whilst you’re just rigorously shuddering on his lap. “would you look at thaaaat,” and his arms wrap around you. “such a good girl. although you’ve made quite the mess.”

in the midst of him sweet talking, praising you and all, you’re panting heavily. your sighing chest’s raising up and down as you’re just laid out on his lap, exhausted. as you’re chasing your own scurried breaths, sylus kisses the top back of your head. “again,” you moan, a strain in your voice. despite how your legs were still shivering—you craved more, you wanted to orgasm like that over and over. “t- teach me how to do again.”

“to squirt?” sylus raises a snowy white brow, turning you around to face him. his crimson eyes bore into yours and there’s that same sly smile stretching across his lips once you desperately nod. “hm, alright. but this time, i just might have to teach you with my tongue,” and you feel yourself throb once he’s slowly making you recline yourself back against his velvet-colored settee. “now lie back kitten, doctor’s orders. .”

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

how about sylus let reader gobbles his dick up on her throat as he working shes so needy she even falls asleep during it or even let reader cockwarm him to sleep 🤍

᧔♡᧓ ࿐ SLEEPING ON HIM !

❦ warnings : nsfw, cockwarming, deepthroating, semi-public s*x, size difference, sleepy s*x, power play, and petnames.

❦ synopsis : You were supposed to be patient, supposed to wait until Sylus finished his work—but your neediness got the better of you. Now, with his cock buried deep inside you, keeping you warm and full while he works, you’re fighting off sleep, body soft and pliant in his lap. Sylus should be annoyed, but he can’t bring himself to care; not when you’re clinging to him so sweetly, whimpering in your sleep, desperate even in your dreams. Work can wait. For now, he’s content to keep you exactly where you belong. (mdni)

Sylus barely spares you a glance as he flips through the documents on his desk, eyes scanning each page with practiced efficiency. His free hand rests lazily on your head, fingers occasionally threading through your hair as you kneel between his legs, mouth stuffed full of his cock.

You’d been like this for a while now—desperate and needy, whining softly around him while he worked. He hadn’t even told you to do it. You’d just climbed into his lap, pawing at his belt, too impatient for him to finish his tasks. And Sylus, ever indulgent when it came to you, had let you.

“You’re insatiable,” he mutters, barely holding back a smirk as he watches you struggle to take him deeper. Your throat contracts around his length, a muffled whimper escaping as your hands clutch at his thighs for stability. “This is supposed to keep you quiet, not make you squirm.”

You whine in protest, blinking up at him with teary eyes, lips stretched wide around his cock. He chuckles at your expression, finally setting his papers aside to brush his thumb against your cheek.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting sleepy already,” he muses, watching the way your lashes flutter. You’re so warm around him, so pliant, and the rhythmic bob of your head is growing lazier with each passing minute. "Greedy little thing… you bite off more than you can chew, then wear yourself out trying."

He exhales through his nose, tilting your chin up and easing you off his cock, a string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip. Your breath is heavy, lips swollen and glistening, pupils blown wide with exhaustion and arousal.

“You want to be full so badly?” Sylus murmurs, guiding you into his lap properly this time. His cock, slick with your spit, presses against your entrance, and he groans as he sinks you down onto him in one slow, steady motion.

A shudder runs through your body, your arms draped loosely over his shoulders as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. He strokes a hand down your spine, soothing you as you settle, buried balls-deep on his cock.

“Stay put, kitten,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement as he shifts just enough to grab his documents again. “Since you’re so desperate to be filled, you can warm me while I finish up.”

You make a soft, content sound, already half-asleep against him. Sylus smirks, flipping the page.

Needy little thing.

Sylas exhales slowly, adjusting his grip on the papers in one hand while the other rests against your lower back, keeping you pressed firm against him. You're still clinging to him, limp and boneless, soft breaths puffing against his collarbone as you drift in and out of consciousness.

He can feel the subtle flutter of your walls around him, involuntary little squeezes that make his jaw clench. You’re so warm, so snug around his cock, and fuck, it takes more restraint than he’d like to admit to keep himself from rolling his hips up into you.

“Didn’t think this through, did you?” he murmurs, lips ghosting the shell of your ear. You barely stir, only sighing against his skin, a little noise of contentment slipping past your lips.

Sylus smirks, amused at how quickly you’ve gone pliant—so eager to have him inside you, only to get so sleepy the moment you got what you wanted. He shifts in his chair, adjusting the papers in his hand, though the weight of you in his lap, the squeeze of your pussy around his cock, makes it impossible to focus.

His fingers twitch against your spine before trailing lower, skimming down to where your bodies are joined. He palms the curve of your ass, gripping just hard enough to make you stir, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

“You’re clinging to me like you don’t want me to pull out,” he muses, voice low and amused. “Maybe I should. Leave you empty so you can actually sleep properly.”

A pathetic little sound rumbles in your throat, and Sylus chuckles. His hand slides up to cup the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair as he presses a lingering kiss to your temple.

“Relax,” he murmurs. “I’ll let you have it—for now.”

Your breath hitches, your body sinking further into his, and Sylus allows himself a brief moment to indulge, letting his eyes slip shut as he savors the feeling of you wrapped around him, warm and trembling, completely at his mercy.

Work can wait. For now, he’s exactly where he wants to be.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[talaok]

Give up

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summary: Once again you've found an excuse to invite your neighbor over, except for once you might be able to make him look past your age difference and have a little fun.

Warnings: big ass unspecified age gap, Jackson!Joel is a softie and he's nervous and he's not so very sure about this bc of how old he is + he's out of practice. smut| oral (m and f receiving) and swallowing you know what. sub!Joel vibez all around

Pt. 2

This wasn't anything new.

The fact that he was coming over wasn't at all surprising to either of you.

You always found a way to be around him, and no matter how he ignored your every attempt at flirting- he never said no.

It had taken all of two minutes.

You'd knocked on his door, your best little skirt and tight little top on, and faked a pout as you told him:

"There's something wrong with the shower again Mr. Miller"

To his defense, Joel really tried not to stare at your ass as you walked right in front of him to guide him to your house, but that fucking skirt seemed more of a joke than anything.

You both knew there was nothing wrong with your shower, the switch that granted the hot water had just mysteriously turned itself off once again.

This had been going on for months now, since he first arrived in Jackson... since you knocked at his door that one chilly morning to introduce yourself to your new neighbor-

All it took was one look, and you were hooked.

He was gonna be yours.

"there- 's hot" he nodded, shutting the water off once he'd made sure it worked properly again, before drying his hands on his pants.

"thank you so much Joel" you smiled wider than necessary "What can I do to thank you?"

And no, you didn't even try to make your words not sound dirty, quite the opposite actually.

He cleared his throat, his eyes breaking from yours in a nervous shift.

You always did that- had this annoying effect on him.

"'s nothing darlin'" he shook his head, "didn't even take five minutes"

"Still- I feel like I owe you," you said, biting down a smirk

Shitshitshit

"How 'bout some cake?" you suggested just as he was about to have a stroke.

"sounds good"

__ __ __

"'s real good darlin'"

"thank you" you smiled happily, watching him clear his plate in under a minute

Yeah... you were a great baker, what can I say

"you want another slice?"

"You spoil me sugar," he laughed, patting his belly "I can't"

"alright" You couldn't help but softly laugh as you placed his plate in the sink.

You caught him looking away just as you turned around, which made you smile to yourself, a smile that only widened when you noticed the chocolate on the corner of his mouth.

"Oh Joel"

"Mh?"

You sat beside him at the table, your legs brushing against one another as you leaned closer.

"You've got something... right here"

You swiped the chocolate off with your pointer finger, making a show of popping it into your mouth to clean it.

His eyes remained transfixed on you as your tongue licked your digit clean until you were finally done with a loud pop.

"Jesus"

"What?" you smirked, knowing exactly what  "that gave you some ideas?"

"babygirl-" he stopped you immediately, shaking his head

"Oh c'mon Joel" you pouted, your hand going to rest on his forearm "What's a girl gotta do to get you to give up?"

He blinked, looking at you intently and nervously altogether.

"Why do ya even care about an old man like me sweetie?"

You couldn't help but laugh "Have you ever looked in a mirror, Joel?"

You swore you saw pink flood his cheeks- the man was blushing.

"Plus you're kind... and funny when you want to.... and you make me feel-" you bit your lip, trying to find the right word "safe... you make me feel safe"

He scratched his beard, but you couldn't help but notice he hadn't used the arm your hand was still on.

"'m sure there's boys here that are funnier and kinder and make you feel even safer babygirl" he spoke gently "Pretty sure most of them are prayin' you give 'em a chance actually"

You hummed, raising a brow

"but what if I don't want them?"

"You want an old man instead?" he huffed out a self-deprecating laugh.

You rolled your eyes "How old even are you?"

"old enough to be your father darlin'"

God, maybe there was something wrong with you, but those words only made your need for him burn harder.

"so?"

"so I ain't even supposed to look your way babygirl- it ain't right"

"But why?" you pouted "Shouldn't I get to have a say in what's right and wrong for me?"

He sighed, not really knowing what to answer to that.

"What if I don't care?" you spoke softly, your pointer finger on his chest, circling his pec "What if I like you, Joel? what if I wanted to show you just how much right now?"

"sweetheart" he started, shaking his head

"You'd stop me?"

And there it was, the pause... your way in.

"Joel?" you called for him, your voice sickly sweet "Would you?"

He couldn't do anything but tell the truth when you were looking at him like that.

"I don't think any man in his right mind could or would ever stop you darlin'"

Satisfaction took over your whole body.

"no?" you teased, grinning like a cat "Not even if he's old enough to be my father?"

He sighed, what looked like resignation in his eyes.

"I'm just a man sweetheart"

And that- that got him the biggest smirk ever known to man.

There was no sound, it was like the word got quiet as you stood up, placed your hands on his thighs, and slowly kneeled between his legs.

He didn't know what to do, he was genuinely frozen, torn between guilt and attraction, the need to let go, to finally do this- that his brain was short-circuiting.

You took advantage of his silence, making quick work of his zipper, and pulling down his boxers just enough to free his cock...

All your speculations got proven right there- he was huge.

"oh wow," you bit down a grin as you watched your fingers struggle to wrap around his whole base.

You gave him a tentative squeeze, and the strained groan rumbling from his chest was just about the hottest thing you'd ever heard.

"y-you- f-fuck"

You stopped him before he could start protesting, your tongue sliding slowly on his tip before leaving a little kiss right on top.

"You're so big" you hummed, your tongue licking him up from base to head, feeling every vein and twitch of his member.

He was looking down at you just as you looked at him, and he seemed... mesmerized, like he couldn't believe this was really happening, that this wasn't another one of the dreams he'd get about you at night, and that it was really your lips wrapping around him.

Goddamnit

You had barely a little more than his tip in your mouth and he was already gone- and I mean gone gone.

He couldn't even remember why he'd spent so long ignoring your not-so-subtle hints-

Just a minute ago he wanted to tell you that no, you don't gotta do that, and ask you sure about this? - But now... now all he could do was throw his head back as he realized that his lack of practice these past few years had really gotten to him, and that he already had to grab at the chair beneath him with all his strength as he tried not to come embarrassingly fast.

You hummed around his cock, and he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting upwards, a small choking sound fleeing your throat.

"goddamnit, 'm sorry baby-"

But the moment he looked down at you, he saw everything but anger... you seemed happy- you were begging him to do it again with your eyes.

But he couldn't, and part of you already knew that.

He shook his head slowly, still trying to think as straight as he could given the situation, but while he was busy with that... you settled for the next best thing... you forced his manhood down your throat all on your own.

The groan he let out was damn near feral.

You couldn't actually get all of it down there, it was the biggest dick you'd ever seen in your life after all, but you swore that with a little bit of practice (that he'd hopefully grant you), you'd get there.

Still, he didn't really seem bothered or in any way disappointed by your inability.

It was an indescribable feeling seeing this tough, rugged man shiver with pleasure before you, his eyes shut and knuckles white with the effort of gripping onto something.

"I- fuck"

He didn't even know what he wanted to say, he just... it felt so fucking good

Your head was back on bobbing up and down his length, and what used to be groans had turned to moans coming out of his mouth.

"Y-you've gotta-" he swallowed, his sentence interrupted by the feeling of your fingers playing with his balls.

"Y-you've got t-" to stop

But you were choking on his girth again

"I-'m gonna-" come

You watched him struggle with his words, his breathing, and his self-control with what would have been a huge smirk on your face if your mouth hadn't been so preoccupied.

You knew he was about to come already, it really wasn't hard to understand,

You also knew that if you stopped now there was a chance you'd get to do more later- but really, this was something too perfect to leave halfway done, and besides... you feared that if you went with your initial plan of straddling his lap and riding the man to heaven, you'd leave him traumatized.

So you didn't stop, you kept massaging his balls as you worked his dick in and out your mouth, ever so often forcing him as deep as you could and choking while drool and saliva dripped down your chin.

"J-Jesus, sweetheart- I-"

All his words came out in rugged breaths, barely coherent- his eyes were back on you, shadows of lust and need darkening his iris as his right hand went to your cheek, a gesture almost too sweet considering what you were doing.

"F-fuck"

And that was it.

He groaned so loud you probably could hear him from outside the house as he reached his climax, rope after rope of his come filling your mouth and throat.

Joel Miller had come in your mouth... and it couldn't have been any more perfect.

You didn't take your eyes off him for one second. You greedily swallowed all his spent as he breathed heavily, eyes still closed.

His dick was softening in your hand as you pulled his boxers back on top of it, a little wave of disappointment washing over your gut.

It's ok, I'll see it again soon

Just as you were plotting exactly how you were gonna get in his pants in the future, his voice startled you

"I-I don't know what to say"

A soft smile pulled at your lips

"You don't have to say anything" you reassured him as you sat back on your chair, your eyes inevitably falling back to where his boxers peeked from the unfasted fly.

"now- I won't keep you hostage any longer, 'm sure you have important stuff to do back at your house"

The frowns on his forehead deepened as his eyebrows came together in confusion.

"What?"

Now you were confused.

"I'm just saying- thank you for... this" You bit down a smile "You know how long I've been wanting it- and you can bet your ass we're doing it and more, again and again, and again" his eyes widened an almost imperceptible amount and you had to stifle a laugh "but... I'm letting you free for tonight"

He took his time to say something.

Silence wrapped around you for a good minute before he was able to mumble something.

"sweetheart-" he cleared his throat to try and clear his thoughts "I-I dunno how you're used to... bein' treated, but this ain't over"

A spark of excitement ignited in your belly

He couldn't mean...

"unless you want it to be, of course"

Oh my

"I definitely don't want it to be" you hastily spoke, almost breathless "but I would like to know what you... mean"

I mean, not to be prejudiced, but you very much doubted he could get it up again so quickly given his... well, age.

He cleared his throat again and you finally realized it was just a nervous tic and he didn't actually feel the need to.

"You should be on a bed" he avoided your question

You couldn't help but smile as you got up

"Such a gentleman"

"that's the last word that comes to mind right now" was all he grumbled

__ __ __

"sit"

that's all he said, and now there you were, sitting on your bed as he looked at you with a mix of lust and uncertainty.

Until he finally did it- he crouched between your legs.

He cleared his throat again, and you felt on the urge of cumbusting.

he was gonna eat you out

You'd only ever done this once, and even then you had to basically beg the guy, just for him to be god-awful at it.

Somehow you had a feeling Joel wasn't gonna be bad at all.

"You sure about this, yeah?"

You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

He could probably ask you to put it up your ass and you'd say yes.

"Yes Joel, I'm 100% positive"

He gave you a little nod, and his hands- his big, strong hands- went to your thighs.

You watched him as if he'd disappear at any moment as he slowly- oh so very slowly- took your skirt off.

He swallowed tightly as his eyes fell on your clothed cunt.

If you didn't know any better you would have guessed he was holding his breath as he got rid of your panties.

"Jesus Christ"

I shouldn't be doing this- I really shouldn't be fucking doing this.

She's not even half my age- she's a kid for god's sake- I'm fucking disgustin-

Every single thought in his mind turned to dust the moment you spread your legs- the moment your wet, drenched, pussy came fully into view.

"Y-you-"

he didn't even remember what he wanted to say- and he didn't remember when his thumb had decided to find your folds, but it had.

He heard a whimper leave your mouth and he felt his cock twitch in his pants, hardening again.

It usually took him a whole fucking hour to get hard again

He looked up at you, and you looked hotter than ever before.

Your cheeks were flushed, your bottom lip was between your teeth, and you looked so... perfect.

"I haven't done this in a- while"

As he spoke those words he hoped you'd think he only meant this... as if you'd actually care about how he hadn't gotten laid in years.

"'s ok Joel" you nodded, smiling encouragingly.

He swallowed again, his gaze slowly lowering.

He couldn't believe you were this wet for him- a pretty thing like you.

His thumb moved, gently sliding up and up and up, until he found your clit, earning another little moan.

Fuck

He circled the little bud, and your cries got a little higher and he swore- he swore going to hell was worth it, worth this.

He had to taste you- fuck, he'd been dreaming about the taste of you since he first saw you- So with all the carefulness in the word, he bent down, his lips finding your soft thighs.

He could see your belly inflate and deflate with your exited breaths as he kissed his way closer and closer to your heat, until he was right there, and he couldn't help but leave a kiss on your mound, on the hair covering it so very nicely.

"Joel-" your voice was strangled "please"

If it had been twenty years ago he would have said something cocky like "'s ok baby, it's coming", his whole demeanor would have been very different too. He used to be in charge in the bedroom, always- he used to feel smug and sure of himself, but now... now he was old and out of practice, and he was... he was nervous.

But all it took was to look up at you, at those beautiful pleading eyes, to find the courage.

You wanted this. You wanted him.

And you tasted better than he could have ever fucking imagined.

A deep, feral groan rumbled in his chest as his tongue passed between your folds, as he gathered all your slickness on his taste buds, all that sweet sweet juice that felt like fucking heaven.

Yeah, now I remember why I used to love this so much

You were moaning like a desperate little thing above him, your thighs squeezing his face as your feet clung to his torso.

And he was gripping the outside of your legs, keeping you as close to him as humanly possible, his face as deep in your core as it would go.

His nose was rubbing against your clit in a way that made you see stars, and he was still lapping, not focusing on anywhere in particular, just aimlessly and desperately feeding off of you.

"Oh my god Joel-" you gasped as two of his fingers found their way inside of you.

His movements were slow, he didn't wanna hurt you, and he wanted to find what made you feel good, which is why he kept exploring until his digits curled up into that sweet cushy part of you, and he felt you squeeze him as you threw your head back.

"f-fuck!"

Your left hand had traveled to his locks, gripping them tightly as your hips frantically moved against his face to try and seek more.

His mouth was focusing only on your clit now, thoroughly sucking on it- and just when you thought this couldn't get any better, that this was the most pleasure you'd ever experienced and there was no way he would be able to top this- another one of his big, thick fingers pushed into you.

The cry you let out was something Joel would be thinking of until he was six feet under.

Three of his fingers were so much more than what you were used to.

"J-Joel" you whimpered actual tears staining your vision as you looked down at him "Oh my fucking g-god Joel"

Your gut had been right. He was really fucking good at this

He was watching you, studying every little face you made as the squelching of his fingers moving inside of you filled the room together with your moans.

"I-I'm coming"

You could barely finish the sentence that the world went bright, and the purest pleasure you'd ever felt erupted in your body with a million different blasts.

For a whole minute, you were in another universe- and Joel eagerly enjoyed the show, not stopping his movements for even a fraction of a second.

You feared the moment you opened your eyes you'd wake up in your bed after yet another dream about this man- and yet he was still here, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

He couldn't help but steal another little kiss on your core before he leaned away.

"well... wow" you smiled like an idiot, your breathing still a little labored "You know what you're doing Mr. Miller"

He didn't say anything, but you saw pink flush his cheeks again as he let your legs go, robbing you of his touch.

You would have been disappointed if it wasn't for the fact he was very clearly having trouble not having his gaze fall down to your heat.

You smiled to yourself as you accepted the skirt he quietly handed you.

Seeing you standing before him with it on when he knew you were bare and wet underneath made Joel's brain freeze for a moment, but that was of course, until you stood on your tiptoes, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"thank you for this Joel"

Your voice was so sweet it sounded angelic to his ears- but the sweetness was replaced by something very different very quickly.

As you stood back down to your normal height, your body, being flushed against Joel's, came in contact with something that very much piqued your interest.

he was hard- very fucking hard

"no babygirl"

he was already shaking his head, crushing all your dreams

"but-"

"I can't" his tone was firm, although you could still hear restraint behind his words, like it was costing him a lot to say no.

"It feels to me like you very much can" you rebutted, smirking softly.

"I- it ain't right"

Oh my god

It took a lot not to roll your eyes "I thought we were past that whole thing" you said, cocking an eyebrow "Do I need to remind you what you were doing just a minute ago?"

"that's different"

"How?"

"it just is"

"what if I beg you Joel?" you purred, your best doe eyes looking up at him "What if I told you about how much I'd like to feel your cock inside of me? How desperate I am for it, Joel- how much I need it"

He was gonna go home and punch himself in the face for what he was about to say.

But it was true, he couldn't. It wasn't right- he needed... to think about it at least

"darlin'" he spoke softly "I can't... not right now"

there it is

The smirk that pulled at your lips was the most mischievous thing in the world.

"right now" you repeated his words, biting your lip as you played with the hem of his flannel "I can live with that- but Joel...don't even think this is over"

[tojicide]

⠀ REMIND ME! ☆ SYLUS.

summary. six months after your breakup with sylus, news broke of you moving on, which is something he simply cannot allow—not if he can help it.

warnings. fem!reader, infidelity, pet names, established history, hair pulling, face sitting, oral ( fem. receiving ), doggy style, missionary, creampie, aftercare. wc. 6.1k.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

Once news broke the N109 Zone of a prospering romance in his district, Sylus couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. It was when he heard whispers of your name adjacent to another man’s that he began to listen.

He was out the front door of his home within a second, his leg swinging over his bike before Luke and Kieran could have a say in the matter.

The two men stood side by side, shouting a frantic ‘it’s normal to move on, man!’ and a ‘it’s been six months!’ from the doorstep as they watched their white haired boss speed away.

Sylus was sure that if he gripped the handlebars of his motorcycle any tighter, they’d certainly break off.

If he was willing to harm his most prized possession over the pure frustration you’ve stirred within him, you should consider yourself the most lucky yet damned woman alive.

He liked to think he was headstrong, but when it came to you, he lost all of his sense. All rationale was long forgotten. You consumed him and he gladly let you, because all in all, it truly was a blessing and a curse.

For how much he loved to put the pedal to the metal, he’s never once arrived at your apartment as fast as he has just now. He didn’t even bother to properly leave his bike in between the lines of a parking spot before he was practically flying towards your front door, knocking rapidly until you answered.

Surprise is etched into your facial features as you crack the door open just enough to see who your uninvited guest was, but a strong hand pushed it open until it was agape. “What the fu—”

“Where is he?” he cuts you off with a question, his red eyes scanning your cozy living room like a predator on the prowl.

“Excuse you, I— what? Where is who?” Your questions stammer out as your brain tries to catch up to the scene in front of you.

Sylus forces himself to turn around and face you, realizing that his erratic behavior was likely confusing you. As expressed, his common sense was truly slipping from him. God, he’s missed you, and he absolutely hates the look you’re giving him. It was one that made him feel like a pure inconvenience to you (even though he certainly was behaving like it).

“Your… boyfriend,” he clarifies, almost choking on the word. The fact that the title was no longer his was already a problem in and of itself, but losing it to another man was something he simply could not allow. “Where is he?”

“Oh, I see,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as you give him a once over. “You think that you’re going to barge into my apartment and pummel the ever living shit out of my boyfriend?”

“More or less,” he answers, his long strides continuing a bit further down your hallway. “Preferably more.”

You scoff, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you watch your ex–boyfriend scope out your apartment that he’s all too familiar with.

“He isn’t here.”

“So I’ve gathered,” he replies, his head poking into your bedroom.

Sylus did his best to sound nonchalant, as aloof as can be, though his heart rate was through the roof. He saw no signs of any male presence—no messily discarded clothes, no misplaced shoes, no second toothbrush in the bathroom—which meant that your relationship wasn’t as serious as he’d imagined.

And boy, was he relieved to figure that much out.

You straighten off the wall as he enters your bedroom, hurriedly walking behind him as you speak, “Y’know, since your objective for coming here can’t be achieved, you are more than welcome to leave.”

“Did I say that was my only objective?” he simply asks, eyes scanning your bedroom.

A bit had changed since he’d last been in here. You changed your comforter to a floral pattern, and you even matched the drapes to the shade of your bedding. Your attention to detail was something he admired about you, and his attention to detail was something you used to love, though as his eyes fell to your open underwear drawer—you’re growing to hate it. A lot.

“Get out of there!” you exclaim, rushing to shove it closed, only to catch his slender finger in the crossfire.

He winces slightly, lifting his already bruising finger to your line of vision. “You’ve wounded me, sweetie. Kiss it better?”

You scoff, slightly pushing his hand away from your face. In any other context, you would have apologized, but given the fact that Sylus had entered your apartment without invitation and threatened to harm your boyfriend within five minutes of his arrival was enough to make you think that this made the two of you almost even.

A small smirk tugs at Sylus’s lips as he presses his finger to his tongue, soothing the stinging that you caused. Your eyes linger on his mouth for a bit longer than they should, and if he noticed (which he certainly did), he didn’t say anything.

“I see you went shopping,” he mumbles, his eyes falling to your now closed underwear drawer. “That’s a shame, baby. A damn shame.”

You can’t help the scoff that leaves your mouth. “Why’s that?”

“I hate the idea of another man seeing what’s mine,” Sylus answers, tilting his head to the side as he gives your body an agonizingly slow once over, “in such pretty fabric, at that.”

Heat rushes to your face at his implication, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re uncomfortable or if you’re flustered by his forwardness. You figure it’s a mixture of both, but you mask it with an annoyed huff.

“I can do what I want,” you refute, crossing your arms over your chest. “And if what I want is to buy panties that you’ll never have the privilege of seeing me wear, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Sylus clicks his tongue, shaking his head with the slightest smirk curving upwards on his lips. He finds your attitude to be just as adorable as it is frustrating. With the way you look, arms tightly crossed over your chest with the tiniest wrinkle in between your eyebrows, he’d liken you to an angry kitten.

“If you’re trying to rile me up, you’re succeeding,” he states, drumming his fingers on your dresser.

Your eyes flit away. “I’m not trying to do anything. In fact, I want nothing to do with you.”

He scoffs, crossing his arms over his broad chest. It’s the first time he’s looked remotely upset with you from the moment he arrived. “Your boyfriend may fall for this little act of yours, but I won’t.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sylus straightens up, his tall frame towering over you. You almost feel antsy under his gaze, but you do your best to hide it.

“I am what your heart truly desires,” he quietly murmurs, his finger tracing from the middle of your collarbones to the valley of your breasts. “And you can lie to him, you can even lie to yourself—but you cannot lie to me. I can see your deepest desires, remember?”

Betrayal is your body’s first instinct. Your breath hitches in your throat the moment the pad of his index finger runs across your skin, and you physically have to fight off a whine from escaping your lips.

In an attempt to salvage the situation, you straighten up, glancing towards your bedroom door. “That’s… bullshit, Sylus. Get out of my head.”

“It’s nothing of the sort,” he replies with a much gentler tone than the one he possessed prior. “And I’ll do no such thing. Your mind is my favorite place to be.”

He studies his reddened finger for a moment, silently deciding to steer the conversation from its more serious direction. “It still won’t feel better until it gets a kiss from its favorite girl, you know.”

Against your better judgment, your eyes betray you by studying the reddened pad of his finger. It shouldn’t be as enticing of a view as it is. You find it to be almost criminal.

“You can lose that finger for all I care,” you scoff, trying not to remember how good it used to feel inside of you.

“So brash.” Sylus forces a pout on his lips, though it doesn’t last long. He presses a kiss to his own finger before he extends his arm to rest on the edge of your dresser, keeping you caged against your drawers.

“You’re awfully lucky that I’m a forgiving man,” he murmurs, his red eyes trained to yours. “You can do almost anything to me and I’d allow it.”

Judging by the way your expression lights up, that seems to give you an idea.

“Really?” you inquire, narrowing your eyes. “Say, if I punched you square in your face, would you allow it?”

“I’m not opposed to finding out,” he answers, his eyelids fluttering as he continues to drink in your beauty. “You know I love it when you’re rough with me.”

That comment forces a flush to your face, and you almost have to pinch yourself to keep your mind from bringing forward all of the memories that proved just how true that statement was.

It infuriates you how easily he could get a reaction out of you, no less than six months after you broke up with him. Perhaps that was why, in a split second decision (one that you’re hardly aware you’re making), your fist goes flying towards his face.

Sylus firmly stops your wielding hand before it can make contact with his cheek. His fingers unwind your fist and bring your hand close, allowing him to press a few chaste kisses to your knuckles.

“Have I told you how pretty you look today?” he asks, his voice slightly muffled by the kisses he’s peppering along your palm and wrist. “So, so beautiful.”

Only he would say such a thing after you attempted to inflict bodily harm upon him. You wish you could rationalize his behavior, but you can’t—that’s just Sylus.

Your body betrays you in every way, shape, and form. Your face is flushed, your eyes are half lidded, and the mere contact of his lips on your knuckles is enough for butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

Grasping onto the last bit of common sense you have, you pull your hand from his grasp.

“It’s time for you to go,” you insist, beginning to slide against the dresser to escape his gaze.

Sylus allows you to create a bit of distance between the two of you, lifting his arm up from your dresser to let you walk away. The last thing he wants is to make you feel suffocated—the very reason you broke up with him in the first place.

He tried to do better, but when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t an animal, though. He loved you more than words could ever describe, and he’d allow you anything you wanted. And if physical space was what you wanted, he’d grant it to you.

“You know I’d do anything for you,” he quietly says, his voice carrying an unforeseen vulnerability to it, “but I can’t do what you’re asking of me. I can’t let you give yourself to a man who doesn’t deserve you.”

Your eyebrows raise. “How can you be so sure he doesn’t deserve me?”

“I know you, baby. That’s how.”

A beat of silence passes, and he conjures up the courage to continue. “And I’m positive there isn’t a single soul who could possibly deserve your favor,” Sylus reasons, loosely crossing his arms, his toned biceps showing through the sleeves of his black button–up shirt. “Not even myself. I’m man enough to recognize that.”

His answer catches you off guard, but you do your best to maintain your front. You don’t want him to see how his words seem to squeeze at your heart.

“Then why are you here?” you genuinely ask.

Sylus knows he’s backed himself into a corner, and contrary to what you might think, he’d intended to do just that. He wants you to give him the green light to speak every word that he’s longed to say to you from the moment he’d seen you last, and now that you have, the floodgates are open.

“I’m selfish,” he admits, taking a tentative step towards you. “I’m drunk on you, and I can’t bear the thought of sobering up, even after all this time. It’s unfair, it’s horrible, it’s cruel—I know this, sweetie. But… I find my serenity in your eyes, and with you gone, my life is purgatory. The confines of hell must be more pleasant than what it is that I feel when I’m without you.”

Internally, you’re floored. Gobsmacked, even. Externally, you’re looking at him with the same soft expression you’ve worn this entire time.

Met with your silence, Sylus begins to internally panic. He slowly takes a few steps towards you, and when you don’t attempt to maintain the distance between you, his hands move to cup your face.

“Rid me of this life,” he whispers, his mouth so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath fan across your lips. “I cannot go on, not without you beside me.”

You truly hate how easy it is for him to reduce you to nothing but putty. You have a new boyfriend, you’ve moved on, you’ve allowed the love that you and Sylus shared to be nothing more than history.

You wanted to believe that moving forward was the best thing you could do, but if that was true, why is it that your heart hadn’t felt full until you laid eyes on Sylus? It seems to beat differently, like it’s finally come back to life in his presence.

Noticing the softening of your eyes, Sylus can’t help himself. He leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead, holding both of you there for a few seconds. The sheer tenderness of his action was enough to make you melt, and you were sure you would’ve if his hands on your face weren’t grounding you.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he admits, tilting your head up so that he can look into your eyes.

Sylus was never one for verbal affection (or being desperate for a woman’s favor) prior to you, but he’d make this exception a million times over if it meant he could have you however you’d let him.

You’ve nearly forgotten all of your allegiances, and you can’t even blame yourself for it. You know that indulging in him is like eating a forbidden fruit, and even then, you can’t forbid yourself from its taste—not when you know how sweet it is. What you feel goes beyond want; it’s pure, unadulterated need.

“No response for me?” he asks.

You shake your head, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. You carefully slide out of his grasp and sit on the edge of your bed, his eyes trailing you as you do so.

You’re a firm believer that nothing is real until you’ve said it out loud, Sylus is more than aware of that. He doesn’t want to push you too hard, too fast, too much, but he’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

As you sit, your thighs naturally part and your skirt rides up just a bit, enough for the pink fabric clothing your pussy to be shown. That sight alone was able to elicit behavior that you’ve never once seen from Sylus.

“God, you are a privilege,” he murmurs, taking a few steps towards you. Without hesitation, he slowly descends to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your thighs. “Such a sight,” he adds his eyes flitting to the dampening fabric of your underwear, “such a beautiful sight.”

If his words weren’t enough, the sight of him kneeling in front of you was enough to make you faint. (Or scream. Or cum. Maybe all three at the same time, you’re not sure.)

“Allow me the night,” Sylus pleads, his desperate red eyes finally locking onto yours. His hand moves to brush your hair from your face, tucking it loosely behind your ear. “Just the night. One night to indulge you.”

Lying would be no use, all things considered. He’d already shamelessly eyed the needy area between your thighs, knowing that the arousal collecting there is for him. Your stomach swirls with a mixture of guilt and need, and you honestly feel like you’re in an impossible position.

“Sylus,” you breathe, your heartbeat thumping so hard that you’re surprised your chest hasn’t burst. “This is so wrong.”

He shakes his head as his large, gentle hands move to rest on your knees. “Your pleasure means more to me than a simple case of right and wrong.”

“I wish it was as simple as you make it seem,” you say, a long sigh leaving you.

“Can’t it be?” Sylus questions, his thumbs idly stroking your knees. “Allow me this one night to remind you of how I feel about you, how you feel about me. If you want me to leave you alone by the time morning comes, I will accept that with a smile.”

You’d like to imagine that you’re stronger than this, that the idea of a final night of lovemaking with your ex-boyfriend to get him out of your head for good isn’t appealing—but it is.

It’s something you’ve thought about before (in the dead of night with your hand stuffed down your shorts), but never did you think it could become a reality.

Only now, with him kneeling in front of you, it was.

“Okay,” you sheepishly murmur. “Remind me.”

You know this is absolutely horrible of you to do, but you can’t find the will to deny yourself this. As much as you tried to get Sylus out of your head, you never could. Not long enough for it to make a difference, anyway.

(Perhaps this, a final intimate night between the two of you, will be just what you need to move on for good.)

Sylus knows that his time with you is limited, but he plans to make it the best night of your existence.

(Perhaps if he can remind you of how much he’s willing to give, how much he loves you, how much he’s missed you—you’ll change your mind.)

His large, strong hands trail up as he drapes your legs over his shoulders, pressing a few kisses to your calves and inner thighs. He presses a kiss to the fabric of your underwear, his tongue drawing out to taste the wet spot.

Sylus isn’t sure what’s come over him, but he honestly feels like he’ll either implode or cry at the sight of you right now. To have you again is something he’s dreamt about more than he’d like to admit, and he plans to show you just how much your absence has affected him as his fingers slide beneath your skirt to hook under the thin fabric of your underwear.

“Thank you,” he mutters against your skin, tugging the clothing piece down your legs. “Oh, fuck,” he mutters aloud the moment his eyes land on your heat.

He could seriously cum in his pants right now, and if he’s not careful, he will. His hands lock onto your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the bed to give him better access to your glistening cunt.

“Pussy’s all mine,” he breathes, licking a long stripe up your slit.

You would have replied if he hadn’t buried his face in between your thighs. His tongue laps at your wetness before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly at it with hollowed cheeks.

A cry leaves your lips at the sensation, your hand gripping onto his white hair as you revel in the feeling his tongue is giving you.

He’s eating you out like a man starved, his own moans rumbling into your cunt, his cock straining against the confines of his pants. Sylus could do this for days if you let him, but after not having you like this for so long, he can’t help himself from needing more.

Within moments, he’s slowly pushing you higher on your bed, still licking at your pussy until he’s physically unable to. He looks up at you with crazed eyes, licking his spit-slick lips as he kicks his shoes off.

“Sit on my face,” he murmurs, moving to lay on your bed. When he’s met with your hesitance, he’s grasping onto your arm to carefully pull you towards him. “I might die without it.”

You’ve never once seen a man so pussy drunk in your entire life, but you’re in absolutely no position to deny him. So, you move to hover above him, your hands resting on your headboard. You hear a satisfied moan beneath you, and he’s soon hooking his arms around your thighs.

“You won’t die without it,” you grumble. “In fact, you might die because of it. Suffocation—”

“Suffocation of this kind might be the best way to go,” he cuts you off, licking a faint swipe against your folds. “In fact, when we’re old and withered, it might be my last ask of you.”

Your face flushes, and you can feel heat rushing to both your cunt and your cheeks. Noticing the coy face you’re making, Sylus can’t help himself from laying a faint smack on your ass, squeezing its plushness as he stares up at you.

“For now, though,” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I want you to let go for me. Can’t have you dangling this pretty cunt in my face without letting me taste it.”

As you hesitantly begin to relax your thighs and lower on top of him, he lifts his head up to meet you halfway and gather your slick on his tongue.

“Very good, baby,” Sylus purrs, dropping his head back onto your sheets as he pulls your hips down the rest of the way, “now sit.”

When all of your weight crashes down on him, a soft gasp leaves your lips at the sheer passion behind the movements of his tongue. He almost seems to be more incentivized. His eyes flutter shut as he mouths at your pussy, the moans leaving his mouth in combination with the absolute filthy sounds of his tongue are enough to drive you insane.

Sylus feels like he’s finally left purgatory and has transcended into heaven. With his pretty girl on his face, taking her on his tongue, making the most beautiful little noises—he’s honestly never felt better.

(Well, there is that whole new boyfriend thing looming in the back of his mind, but he’s sure that you’ll take care of that once he’s done taking care of you.)

One of your hands leaves the headboard to grasp onto his hair, your eyes screwing shut as you rock your hips over his tongue. “Sylus,” you breathe out through a moan. “I’m— oh, shit—”

Sylus’s cock twitches as you moan his name, his eyes fluttering shut as one of his hands help to guide the rocking of your hips. With his other, he palms himself through his trousers, his mouth working tirelessly to make you feel good.

Even as self-admittedly selfish as he is, he can’t bear the idea of putting his pleasure above your own—even if the ache is physically eating away at him. With you writhing above him, the sounds you’re making, the look on your face, it’s all too much—even for him.

Your mouth lulls open as you let out the most beautiful whine he’s ever heard, and his tongue slows down, working you through your first orgasm of the night. He eagerly collects your juices with his tongue, his eyes rolling back as he finally presses a final kiss to your swollen clit.

“I can stay this way forever,” he says against your inner thigh, placing a kiss to your warm skin, “you and me,” he places another kiss, “together.”

You shift to lay beside him, out of breath and looking beautifully disheveled. Sylus licks his lips and lies starry–eyed beside you. Soon enough, a huff of laughter escaped his throat, realizing he might’ve said too much there.

Sylus turns his head to look at you. “Was that enough to get an ‘I miss you too’ out of that mouth of yours?”

You let out a breathless laugh, your hand running over your face. “No,” you lie.

That was the best orgasm you’ve had since your breakup, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“You’ve developed quite the attitude,” he muses, rolling on top of you. He slots his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. “That boyfriend of yours must not fuck it out of you like he should,” he adds, the low volume of his voice rumbling against your skin as he kisses along your jaw, “like I can.”

Before you can think twice, you’re lifting your hips against the bulge in his pants, a soft gasp escapes your lips as you feel the very prominent shape of his hardened cock. With a grunt, Sylus pushes your hips down, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs.

“Such a needy little thing,” he chastises, his hand moving to cup your mound. “First you’re insisting I leave, and now you’re hoping I’ll give you my cock. You’re sending me mixed signals here, sweetie.”

You’re seeing stars, and your hand grasps onto his wrist, feeling the way his muscles tense as he begins to toy with your clit.

“I want it,” you whine, your toes curling as the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, “you’re… you’re being a tease.”

“That’s right,” he whispers, licking a long stripe up your neck. “If you want it bad enough, you’re going to have to prove it, baby.”

Your head tilts to the side as Sylus pulls away from your neck to look down at you. His fingers move to work at the button of your skirt, tugging it down your legs and tossing it onto the floor of your room.

“How?” you ask.

He presses his lips to yours as his hands tug up your shirt, breaking the kiss to carefully pull it over your head. His large hands palm at your breasts, bringing your perked nipples in between his fingers.

“Pick up the phone,” Sylus answers, releasing your breasts to sit up in front of you, his hands moving to undo his belt.

Your curiosity soon turns into something much more lustful as he pulls his trousers and boxers down his thighs. His shirt goes next, the articles of clothing decorating your floor. His cock looks even better than you remember, but he snaps his fingers in front of your face to gather your attention.

“Sorry, what?” you ask, shaking your head to snap yourself out of your trance.

“Pick up the phone,” he repeats, reaching to your bedside table to hand you your cell.

You take the device from him, looking at it with confusion. You were embarrassed that you hadn’t even noticed it ringing, far too distracted by the sight of him stroking his hand along his length, but your embarrassment soon turns into dread as you read the caller ID.

It is, of course, none other than your boyfriend.

“Sylus, that’s— that’s crazy,” you stammer out, looking between his eyes, his dick, and your phone.

He snickers, flipping you onto your stomach. His hands grasp onto the plush of your hips to pull your ass up. “What’s crazy is the fact that you expect me to fuck you without your boyfriend’s knowledge.”

“You’re above adultery?” you gasp out.

Sylus shakes his head, his hand moving to prod your entrance with the tip of his cock, his other hand grasping onto your hair to pull you back against his chest.

“Obviously not,” he replies, licking along the shell of your ear. “Just want to show him how beneath it you are.”

Your heart slams against your chest as he takes the device from you and answers the call, holding the phone to your ear.

“Let him hear,” he purrs, slowly pushing his cock inside of you. “The noises you make with my cock buried inside you are such a prize. It’d be a disservice to not share.”

A sharp whine leaves your lips as he tugs on your hair, tilting your head to give himself better access to your neck as he bottoms out inside of you. “Tell him what you’re up to, sweetie,” he simply says, sucking a faint mark onto your neck.

On the other end of the line, your partner begins to blab on about his day, though you’re hardly able to listen, not when Sylus is pushing his cock inside of you like a madman. Your body tenses as he stretches you out, the sensation forcing a moan out of your mouth, though the man on the other end of the line didn’t seem to notice.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispers, resting his chin on the crook of your shoulder to press an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw, “taking my cock so nicely. Missed this pussy so much.”

“—so then, I told him… wait. Are you with someone?”

Your heart rate skyrockets as Sylus draws his hips back only to pound the length of his cock inside of you. “Oh, fuck… y-yes,” you choke into the phone, almost breathless.

“Thank you for your confession, my dear,” Sylus teasingly remarks, knowing that your response was a reaction to how good he feels inside of you rather than an answer to your boyfriend’s question.

He presses a faint kiss to your shoulder as he thrusts into you again, using his grip on your hair to push you back onto your stomach. A hand smoothes over the curve of your back, his long fingers hooking around the plush of your hip to remind you that he’s still present despite the situation. He then brings the phone to his own ear, watching with a wide grin as you arch your back to take as much of his cock as you can.

“Our friend can’t talk right now,” he says into the receiver, grunting as your walls clench around him. “She’s gotten lost and found herself on my cock, which is such a positive turn of events, let me tell you,” the pace of his hips thrusting into you only seems to get more intense with each word he says, “considering it’s right where she belongs.”

“W-what? Who the fuck are you? I—”

“I can’t stay on the line to talk much either,” Sylus continues, his free hand grasping a bit tighter onto your hair as he tugs on it to fuck deeper and harder inside of you, his skin slapping against yours with each heavy thrust. “Have to make her cum for all the times you couldn’t.”

You’re lost in a whirlwind of sensations, your mouth gaped open as you moan out with each thrust he makes, your back arched as much as you could make it. You can feel a pool of warmth building inside of your lower stomach, and you let out a cry of pleasure.

You haven’t been fucked this good in, well… six months. That much is obvious to the both of you, given the way you’ve been losing your mind with each forceful push of his hips. He knows your body in ways you’ll never understand, and luckily for you, you don’t need to understand in order to receive the pleasure that he’s desperately trying to give you.

“Sylus!” you gasp out, serving as a warning for how close you already are.

“Mm, I have to go, duty calls,” Sylus says into the phone, releasing his grip on your hair to move his hand between your legs, two of his fingers circling your clit. “Call my woman again and I’ll kill you.”

Tapping the screen to end the call, he tosses your phone mindlessly, and it’s only when you hear it drop against the floor do you turn around to look at him.

“Sylus!” you scold.

He gives you a wry smile as he slowly pulls out of you, rolling you onto your back. “I’ll buy you a new one, pretty. Don’t worry.”

You open your mouth to protest, but when he slowly pushes his cock inside of you again, you’re hardly in the protesting mood at all.

Sylus towers over you, his forearm propping him up as he slowly fucks into you, his red eyes trained to yours. “God, baby, I’ve missed you.”

Almost instinctively, your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you. There was a hidden intimacy of this position that you’ve always loved. He obliges to your request, resting his forehead on yours as he thrusts harder inside of you.

“You take me so well,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “So, so beautifully.”

You mewl at the softness of his praise, your eyes glossing over as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your walls tensing around him. He hisses at the feeling, dipping his head to press a kiss on your cheek.

He can tell that you’re close, and he knows just what you need. He won’t give it to you so easily, though.

“Sweetie?” he breathes out.

You nod your head before breathlessly replying, “yeah?”

Sylus gives you a smirk as he raises his bruised finger to your lips. “Kiss it better. Let me use it on you.”

Protest is not on your agenda anymore, not by a long shot. You kiss the pad of his finger without hesitation, and you proceed to capture it with your mouth, your tongue soothing the bruising.

He smiles at the sight, a groan leaving his lips as he continues to thrust his cock inside of you. “So pretty, baby. God, you’re beautiful.”

Sylus retracts his finger from your mouth to bring it to your clit, his spit-slick finger rubbing it in beautiful, moan-earning circles. He watches as your eyes almost immediately haze over at the stimulation.

He lowers his head to suck on your nipple, his free hand palming at your other breast as means of stimulating you in any way he can. After a moment, he latches onto your other breast, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak.

“God, ah— Sylus!” you moan, your hands wrapping around his neck.

He nips at your breast before he pulls away, a guttural moan leaving his mouth as he feels you clench around his cock. “Going to come for me again, beautiful?”

You nod your head, rising up from the pillow to press a kiss on his lips, and his large hand moves to cup the back of your head as he kisses you through your orgasm. His fingers gently thread through your hair, giving you the best of both worlds.

“Cream my cock, baby. It’s all yours, always will be,” he mutters against your lips, his thrusts growing slower as he twitches inside of you.

Sylus breaks the kiss to look down at you, a heavy pant leaving him. “Where do you want me?” he breathlessly asks.

As if that were a question you ever responded differently to, he still needed to ask, even though you answered just the same. “In… in me.”

He nods his head as he thrusts inside of you a few more times, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on your cheek as he bottoms out inside of you, stuffing you full of his thick, white cum.

A moment passes in which the two of you simply pant breathlessly to each other, your sweaty foreheads pressed together. It was a beautiful scene by all measures.

“I missed you too,” you finally pant out, a smile breaking your lips. “I missed you a lot.”

He chuckles breathlessly at that. “I missed you even more, sweetie.”

Sylus presses a soft kiss on your cheek before he slowly pulls out of you, traveling slowly to your bathroom before returning with a damp towel. He settles in front of you again, using the warm towel to gently clean up the mess he’s made of you between your legs.

You stare at him with the most lovestruck eyes he’s ever seen, and it only makes him smile. “You tired, baby?” he lowly asks.

Nodding your head, you extend your arms to him, and he pulls you in without question. He lies down on his back, holding you against his chest. His large hand runs over your back while the other one tugs your blankets over the both of you, giving you a bit of warmth.

Not that he needed anything more than your presence. He feels like he’s on cloud nine, holding the woman that he loves, running his fingers over her hair just as he used to.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your ear, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head. It’s almost concerning how much he loves you, but he can’t help it.

“I love you,” you lazily return the sentiment.

As you cuddle into his chest, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t shown up today, if he’d left you alone, if he let you move on.

You know it’s crazy to think about.

After all, it’s Sylus. Your Sylus. He’s the only person you’ve ever needed, and now that he’s reminded you of that, you won’t forget it.

note. thank you for reading! please interact if you enjoyed!! <3 i don’t even know what the hell this is—we have possessive, dominant, and soft sylus in one go. but hey, it works for me, so i hope it works for you. pls pls pls give me ideas to write more for this sexy man—i never get tired of him!

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ✧ masterlist | request

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i trieddddd i tried i swear i tried </3 to stick to tags <///33 but i ran out …. so here i am …… sorry dilly T_T

(disclaimer: read the tags before reading this… ok…….)

’sorry’ said very softly and quietly bc i feel u would probably yell at me for it </3 i’m actually not sorry at all i was hoping i’d have no choice but to stumble my way here :3c HHHHHHH there is just too much to say and too much to mention …… too much i love about this fic :’< ofc i have to start with . the infamous …… ”the sky’s blue because daddy’s eyes are blue!” <- SOBBED!!!!!!!!!!!!! TAT this whole moment was somehow even cuter than i remember it being LMAO i feel so lucky . to be able to experience it again :’3

i love . the moments jumping in time ….. how this fic is about gojo washing his daughter’s hair . but also so much more than that ….. it is his love manifesto. it is the weight of everyday moments translated into writing in such a beautiful way i cannot describe it…. it is gojo grappling with time and love and the fact not even the most beautiful things stick around forever (cough cough cough. u know who i am thinking of) but that they’re worth cherishing all the more because of it …… gojo is such a sentimental person. and that is a faucet of who is that i feel is hardly explored even though it is part of his ’core’….. to me. he is a man who can’t help but reminisce. who is only allowed the luxury of chewing on memories over and over again …… so for you to give him such a picture perfect life . in this. makes me weepy :’3

aughhh TAT just. when i think of this fic i think of bubbles . and sunlight. and markers and colours and sweet scents …….. something so lovely that i feel envious i can’t reach out and touch it. that i can’t see the bathtub or feel the water trickle through the gaps between my fingers. i know you were a little nervous about reposting this dilly but truly it is one of my favorite gojo pieces ever ….. and i do not even subscribe to papa gojo most of the time but when you write him like this i can’t help but think he was born to be a father (<- proof of your immense power) ….. i can’t help but feel that . if canon gojo tried to picture a life without sorcery he would see just a sliver of this scenery ….. a sliver of the sun. sobsob

back to the Actual Fic … (one of the reasons i try to stick to tags is . if i make it Here (what do you call it anyway ….. the main…. something ?? i don’t know. the promised land (to Me)) i always end up rambling and then i get off track …. forgive me…….) i just had the genius idea to screenshot my favorite quotes and leave them here . i will do just that :3c i really want you to Feel how much i love this fic ….. if at all possible …………… can you feel my love ………….

^ TAT …. his very precious girl . SOBBED. she is his all his and yours all yours ……………

^ THIS WHOLE MOMENT WAS SOOOOO CUTE DILLY i know i said it already but u just . capture gojo so perfectly PDHKDJDJD …… he is so silly and cute here 😭😭😭 also !!! sunshine ….. she is the sun latching onto the big blue sky …………..

^ gnarls and whines . as i read this …… sniffles… this is one of the quotes that just made me go. i love how dilly writes …. i love how i can practically hear her voice. does that make sense at all …………… :’3

^ THROWS UP BLOOD !!!!!!!!! your satoru carries the big blue sky wherever he goes ……. T____T such . a beautiful quote wahhh . and just so Him. i love the little peeks we get into gojo and reader’s love for each other ….. this fic is about their love just as much as it is about their baby. tho i guess she quite literally is their love personified ……….. anyway. something something satoru is atlas, he has no choice but to carry the sky on his own, but fluffy clouds and the glow of the sun make it bearable …. you know.

^ already mentioned it but You Know. obviously

^ THIS WHOLE SEQUENCE . ACTUALLY 😭😭😭…. i soooooobbed dilly i love . him . HE WANTS TO BE A GOOD PAPA …… the dynamic between him and his baby is also just sooo funny and cute he is a true girldad ………… i love them ………….,,,,,,

^ firefly of a husband …… quote that made me explode into pieces . and bits

^ GRRRRRR GRGR this made me cry . T_T UR WRITING DILLY!!!!!! ILL BE SICK!!!!!!!!!!!!! it doesn’t feel like enough……… yes, you know this ……..

^ and finally . this :’) as i was reading it was so fun to read lines that i have a vague memory of and others that i don’t remember at all ….. but i do remember this final line. because i remember just how Much it made me feel the first time around ……. just the perfect little cherry on top. the Point of it all.

i love this fic …. i’ll love it forever . in the same way i will love you forever and gojo forever and your writing forever ….. thank you for posting this my angel 🥺 i will keep it so close to my hear . forever and ever <3

THAT FUNNY LITTLE GIRL ♡ GOJO SATORU

he hopes this lifetime will be enough to love.

papa! gojo washes his baby’s hair, what could go wrong! jumping thru the timeline, multiple times. sfw, fluff. approx. two thousand word count. he is filled to the brim with love.

“daddy?” his baby calls for him, satoru, who happens to be sitting right beside her bathtub— criss-crossed legs, paying less and less mind to the cold tile floor that’s making his skin shiver, and more on what she has to say.

“yeah baby?” he’s just down the hall, but you’ve begun to pick apart how his voice, with every syllable, sounds so fond when he speaks to her: his very precious girl.

you hear the gentle hum she hums for a quick second, the mumbling, jumbling of her words as she sorts out what she wants to say and then, “why’s the sky blue?”

★ ‎

there’s a bathtub marker in her hand when she asks, the very same ones satoru was so incredibly persistent on buying at your last shopping store run—

“bathtub markers?” he hears the quirk in your eyebrow before he has a chance to see it, holding the pack of eight in his hand like it’s the greatest invention yet.

“yup! we need them!” he stands side by side with his mini me— matching pairs of silly puppy dog eyes appear on their faces and a dramatic pout fixed to both their lips.

he whispers what he thinks you won’t hear, covering his lips behind the palm of his hand as he kneels to her side. “pst…” he hisses comically loud, “we need to say please, sunshine.”

“pease!” no please, (she’s much cuter about this whole ordeal than he is—) she nods her head as she swings her feet back and forth, fluttering without a sound.

could you guess what’s harder than saying no to her? satoru would vote it’s probably saying: goodbye!

your heart aches lovingly, too impossible to resist— “‘toru, it sounds like you want them more than she does.” grabbing the bundle of markers, you flip them to the side, skimming through its directions and their warnings.

“me?!” he says in the least dramatic tone he could possibly mutter, “are you denying our baby of an artistic future?” and then there’s a hand over his face again. he covers the gasping motion he’s currently molded into, “that she’s not destined to be the next picasso?”

“she’s three! how would you know?” funny grins paint over both your faces because it’s a bittersweet thought: her future, who’ll she be and what’ll become of her.

“there’s an artist inside that little heart, i can feel it.” he’s determined to stick to the skit, crossing his arms over his chest and puffing with a promising certainty for it all.

it’s even funnier when he knows he’s won too: when you hand over the markers to your baby’s pudgy fingers, he has that face plastered on. same one as every other time he’s won you over on something hilariously trivial.

“so honey,” focusing, you decide to actively ignore the cutest dimples on the corner of his smile, “what will you draw when you get home today?”

“f’owers” she points at the red marker, “more for you!” an obvious reference to the dozen roses she’s seen on the dinner table.

“you’re so sweet! i know you’ll draw me the prettiest flowers, my love!” you kiss the tip of her nose as tiny pearly whites form a cheeky smile in return— “ahem.” satoru follows slowly behind you both as you begin to stroll down the aisle again.

“and for daddy,” the coast is clear so you take the chance to stop and spread your arms as wide as you can, “you draw him the biggest, blue sky that matches his eyes!”

she giggles at the dramatics, your stretched out arms and satoru’s loving gaze directed toward you— she mimics these two things. “big sky ‘nd daddy!” and it’s true, your satoru carries the big sky wherever he goes.

★ ‎

“uhmm..” he thinks hard about it, rubbing the nape of his neck, setting his glasses down to the side— how exactly do you explain the color of the sky to a toddler?

he scoots in a little closer now, splashing sounds echoing around while she fidgets with the other toys in the bath, “so, the light from mr. sun is made of all the colors of the rainbow. do you know which ones?”

satoru picks out the markers in the same exact pattern he’s memorized— red, orange, yellow, green in her hand, blue, and the purple that seems the closest to violet.

she doesn’t sound very interested, yet. but you doubt it as long as there’s paddling turtles wound up and clicking across the bubbly water; her attention’s obviously elsewhere.

satoru uncaps the yellow marker first: forming one big, rigid circle against the shower wall that represents the sun— followed by streaks of all the other colors in his hands stretching away from it, representing light.

“like this,” he says, “all the colors of the rainbow.” he returns the green marker she had at first, happily holding onto the object again.

“but ms. earth,” a cake of blue forms as the felt tip rolls around in one spot, “likes blue the best. so, she makes her sky blue.” and with that, your baby blinks up at him like a doll— eyelashes pinched into the perfect curl, and he wonders if he’s only confused her even more.

“oh.” it’s funny how somber-toned she sounds— oh, the same tone you’d use after hearing the most unbelievable truth (or a lie!) the utter shock, the disbelief… that oh.

“just kidding!” he gleams brightly now as she watches. apparently, it had been enough to grab her attention even for the slimmest second.

satoru drops the markers back in the bathtub net where she had placed them, settling within her reach.

“the sky’s blue because daddy’s eyes are blue.”

and if he gleams, his baby does too, “i knew it!”

(he promises to explain himself to you a little later. surely, hopefully, you must forgive him and his little, white lie!)

“oh, you did?” satoru settles his knees as close as he can to the tub now, minimizing all the space he can as he reaches for the shampoo bottle on the edge of the tub, “isn’t my little girl so clever? yes, the smartest!”

she giggles, water splashing around as she moves closer towards her daddy’s arms— completely used to this routine by now, “mm, like papa.”

once he squeezes the bottle, he thinks his heart’s being squeezed too. watching chamomile-scented soap pour onto the palm of his hands, he smiles. “you think i’m clever, sunshine?”

“sometimes.” but she’s off in her own little world again, drawing on the wall with her favorite turtle beside her.

he supposes he will take what he can get.

with a gentle rinse to her hair, satoru begins to form a gentle lather along the crown of her head, “i want to be a clever daddy for you,” he says.

you know it comes with no thought, as if the words have simply fallen out and onto his tongue before they’ve finally reached his head, “a good papa.”

and it’s happened so frequently, he jokes with you about how she must have some sort of technique to pull out the honest truth from anyone— even without trying to.

“you just love her, satoru.”

★ ‎

amidst the grogginess of the morning and eyes closed shut, you tell him that much. it’s all you can grumble out when your firefly of a husband rises before the sun.

he claims it’s early morning clarity— when your mind is filled with everything and nothing. all you can do it spill your heart out. not much you can do to help it.

he loves this part of the day with you.

“i do. a lot.” he says in one lasting breath, just before shifting from being your big spoon to peek over at the baby monitor on his bedside table for the… nth time.

if she didn’t make him feel like his entire life was worth it, maybe he wouldn’t look at her so often. but she does, not even aware of it, with a leg dangling off the bed. plushies used for pillows rather than the pillows themselves.

it doesn’t scare him as much as it used to: the act of loving, and the acting of expressing it— the act of admitting just how much he does.

“she loves you too.”

★ ‎

with the soapy suds spilling over his knuckles, between his fingers and the strands of her hair, satoru notices something new.

he twirls a finger around the ends of her hair, strands strong and smooth— as he realizes they’re starting to curve around the shell of her ear on its own, when he doesn’t remember it doing that before.

and as he lowers his gaze, the soapy lather following along, he sees the longest strands of his baby’s hair are bound to meet the back of her neck. nape, ears and shoulders all meeting someone new.

satoru forgets that time goes by fast, especially when you’re filled with love to spare. “when did you start growing up so fast, sunshine?”

she shrugs.

the strength in his knees give out, landing him right back down onto the tile floor; feet tucked underneath his body. “it’s too fast.” he murmurs so lowly, you can barely catch on to what’s been said.

too fast to watch her go— but don’t say it out loud, satoru doesn’t have the heart to finish or hear the rest.

she’ll be able to say please, even without him asking her to. she’ll be able to pronounce her l’s until she loses her two front teeth. she’ll hold onto his hand, and he’ll hold onto her.

then, it’ll be time for school. and she’ll be leaving his side as a big girl now, with a lunch bag he’s packed and a slipping backpack over her shoulder— yes, inevitably, that’s going to happen too, just as he has before.

and if that’s right around the corner, then so is every other phase, inevitably— and the rest of her life from then on. it’s going to happen one day: where satoru’s baby is no longer a baby and he will have to let her go.

“‘toru.” he turns to you, towel in hand, pressing weight against the wall’s edge. “what’re you weepin’ about now, baby?”

your daughter turns to face him in a heartbeat, curious.

“crying?” voice trembling, he nudges his cheek into his sleeve in attempts to hide any evidence, big hands still in need of rinsing along with her hair. “who’s crying?”

stepping closer, you hang the towel over the hook before sitting right next to his side, “because you never cry, especially at random times.” you poke once at his ribs.

“you’re starting to get me, sweetness.” then, he dips his fingers into the water, bubbly foam parting ways from his skin. it falls down her shoulders when he rinses her off, all done with the bath, and having a little time to play.

you watch him for a while, trying to identify the cause and while trying to make small talk— you mention something without much thought, “her hair has gotten a lot longer now.”

his voice, it’s tinier than you’ve ever expected it to be, “i know…” a sniffle divides his sentence, a proper pause, “she’s growing up so fast.”

“ah… so, that’s what this is about.”

you rest your head over his shoulder, still feeling as in love as ever, “you’re cute, you know that?” he rests his in return. “we still have hundreds of days together.” you watch the way she draws on the wall, enjoying her happiness as if it were your own.

“it doesn’t feel like enough.” he says.

“i don’t think it’ll ever be enough.” no, it never will. “maybe we’re greedy like that, honey.” yes, you know this.

he knows he is. because there’s a bright sun in the blue sky with red roses to bring it all together, just like she promised.

“finished!” she looks back at you two, hands in the air in celebration of her brand new masterpiece being born.

“oh! they’re so pretty!” sweet enthusiasm in your voice, you give her all the attention in the world. “just perfect!”

you begin to ask her the little things, every detail you could think of and she could find an answer to, all while wrapping her in the warm towel you hung up earlier.

satoru’s gotten up from the floor too, taking it all in until she calls for him again, “that’s you, daddy.” she points at the blue on the wall as you carry her back to her room.

his heart screams though he’s no longer crying and he hopes this lifetime will be enough to love.

satoru hears your footsteps trickling further down the hall when your voice resounds again, “come on daddy, we need help picking out today’s pijamas!”

“pease, papa hurry!”

his heart screams though he’s no longer crying as he listens to the water flow down the drain, capturing her first piece of art on his phone, he has very little to say.

but if he had to say it and if his baby asked him to, satoru would confess: “i’m so happy. i’m so happy to love you.”

hello friends! this is a repost from my previous blog, mysugu. in the case you recognize this piece, that is (hopefully) why! thank you for reading this bit, (a second time?) he is so loved.

[xazse]

helllooo! can i request hybrid goio x fem hybrid reader whos new to the house (geto adopted them^^) and reader and gojo have a good bond it hasnt really been much sexual (gojo doesnt know what sex is) until reader goes into heat and she ends up using one of her toys and leaving it on the bed when she went to go wash up or smth.. and gojo ends up smelling it and shit and they boombaya🤯

i had several strokes writing this thank u for listening 💔

Cw: SnowLeopard!Satoru x PuppyHybrid!Reader + fem!reader + heats + crying + mentions of Suguru

Hello!! I am sorry this took so long I hope you like this! And everyone else who’s been waiting more puppy!reader!!

Satoru and you were instantly locked together the first week you were brought to the house, he instantly fell in love with your jumpy fun personality, he freaking loves you so much. You and him do everything together, refusing to go anywhere without one another is absolute.

Suguru even has a hard time separating the two of you, he doesn’t try to but the on the occasion he needs to it’s the hardest thing in the world.

Like now, he’s had to have you completely separated from Satoru because he’s acting strangely, strange in the aspect that he’s started to sniff at you a lot more, Satoru will sit for hours just simply content with smelling you. Going on and on about there’s a sickly sweet smell coming from you, he has yet to place his finger on where the smell is coming, that was the cue for Suguru to throw you in a spare bedroom alone.

It’s absolute hell for you that week all the toys Suguru supplies you with become thrown against the wall in frustration, the tears on your part are endless as you beg Suguru for something he just can’t give you, all he can do is rub your soft fluffy ears and offer reassurance while you fuck yourself wild on your toy. The room is encased in a thick layer of just pure warmness, you’ve been going at it for at least a few hours, he feels terrible for not being able to fully understand what you’re going through.

Satoru’s still acting strangely, he’ll sit at your door and whine for his fun companion to come back out, but everytime he tries to open the door he’s quickly met with Suguru’s swift hand upon his, letting him know that you’re off limits for right now. He’ll trudge back into the living room with a sad sag of his shoulders looking back at your room with an even sadder expression, Suguru’s heart rips in half when those blue eyes look at him.

Ever so innocent Satoru is as hardheaded as they come, regardless when Suguru is sleep in the dead of night he slips out of the room and makes his way to yours, it’s been too long without a word from you and Suguru isn’t helping to calm his mind at all.

He tries your lock and finds it doesn’t budge, so with the smallest amount of strength he breaks it, he can already picture Suguru’s livid face going on and on about how expensive that’ll be to replace.

When he steps into the room he’s hit with a wave of a sweet smell, the same one he’s been smelling on you but it’s at an all time high now, he covers his nose but the smell still penetrates deep. He could turn around right now since he can hear your shower running but he hasn’t seen you in so long, how he is supposed to stay away without making sure you’ve been fine?

He makes his way towards your bathroom but something out of the corner of eye catches him, it’s on your bed and with his sense of smell he knows that’s where the scent is the strongest. His heady head tells him to get closer: to investigate. Without even properly thinking he’s walking towards the toy, he’s kneeling in front of it and with a slow cautious hand he’s picking it up.

Every sense of Satoru’s is immediately heightened as he zones in on it, his breath doesn’t seem to be keeping up all that well. He realizes he’s breathing out of his mouth rather than his nose, it smells so fucking good he can hardly contain himself, no he feels he won’t be able to contain himself if he doesn’t leave this room, his legs feels shaky when he grips the edge of the bed to help him stand.

He comes crashing right back down to the floor with the toy in hand, he sniffs at it, almost salivating. He’s never felt like this before, his body runs hot and feverish in almost an instant, now all his mind is telling him to do is to find you.

“Satoru?” You. Your voice travels within his ears and he’s really about to lose it, the short shorts and the mini tank top don’t help whatever this feeling is, he zones in on the droplets of water deploying from your body. You stare at him with an unreadable expression, a fire burns within your eyes as you realize what’s happening to him.

You don’t think he knows that his cock is standing at full attention, that his tail is swishing behind him like he’s looking at prey. You walk towards him as slow as you can and like a burning man Satoru stares so intensely, watching every step you take towards him, also feeling just as hot as he is.

You know Satoru’s strength is nothing to play with but the way his hips are meeting your ass are just downright stupid, ever since you laid your lips upon his he’s just been like an untamed animal, fucking into you for at least a good hour, he’s cum so many times but he recovers just as fast, pumping another unprotected load into you. You’re equally as slutty with the way your pussy grips onto him and pulls him right back into position.

The room smells like sweat, you know that. Your cunt has been begging for release like this since your awful heat had started and now she’s finally getting what she wants and is absolutely being greedy about it. Satoru kisses you just like a virgin would, messy and uncoordinated but you know he loves it, loves you and loves how good you’re making him feel.

His balls tighten once more and he spills liquid hot into you for the however time today.

He moans shamelessly in your ear, resting in the crook of your neck, begging for another release, he’s probably also begging for the hot feeling invading his being to stop as well, it’s all your fault, poor Satoru, he can’t stop the filt of his hips all because you and you’re heat but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 9 — HE'S A VIRGIN

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — aventurine, blade, boothill, sunday

— warnings. — fem! reader, virgin hsr men, virginity loss, inexperienced af & pussy drunk, established relationship, they're kinda whiny, dirty talk

⚝ — AVENTURINE

aventurine doesn't know how to properly touch you, and it's cute— right? of course it is, yet again, it's not like he wasn't aware on how to trace sweet patterns all over your flesh, yet without experience, he was frightened he'd fail to make you feel good.

but he's a gambler, isn't he? and this— this is the wager he'd risk everything on.

he cups your face with trembling hands, lips parting against yours with the kind of hunger that doesn't belong to a man who's done this before— it's worshipping, yes, and wild? like he's tasting pure wealth, real power, you, all in one drag of breath and tongue meshed together.

and there's a moment aventurine thinks he can play it cool, settle down his excitement with some jokes curled at the edge of his lips— "what's the risk here, really?" he drawls, but then you slowly guide him in, inch by inch, step by step, and his whole face fractures.

his breath abandons him all at once— violently, shamefully, like a confession torn from the throat at knifepoint as his mouth falls open to moan out your name, lips parted in disbelief on how good you felt around him, not even a gasp escaping, only a shuddering intake of air that sounds more like penance than relief when his thick length pushes itself past your hole, practically bullying itself in.

white-knuckled, he grips the sheets and cages you in within his arms as if the sensation has torn straight through to his spine as he rocks his cock once more, pushing past your creamy hole again and again and again with shallow, sloppy thrusts when he winces, yes, cries as your walls suckle and constrict around him, your stomach tensing as he whines into your neck.

"shit— shit, it"s—" aventurine cannot even finish his words without melting it into a brittle whimper, and you pull your hips up a bit to give him better entry as he pants hotly at the pleasure, his body betraying him with the enormity of feeling you, as if the sensation of your deepest spongiest spots itself were an affliction too great to name.

you move your hips up and up to grind just enough and he gasps loudly, like am animal without shame, covering his cheeks in a pink flush as he stares down at you— sweating, chest heaving, hair stuck to his forehead, "you feel like— like, i'm not supposed to survive this," he groans, voice breaking, "fuck— do it again, please do that thing you did—"

and when you do, slowly grinding your hips up, your walls milking him sensually, he throws his head back, eyes lurching back, whites flashing— an expression not of ecstasy, but of some higher derangement. his lips, clearly bitten to a sickly red, tremble as though every nerve beneath them was a silent cry for more. 

he reaches down with trembling fingers to tenderly caress your cheek, not understanding how you can feel this good, ugh, like he's never going to recover from this ever, "fuck— i could die like this," his voice slips out like a secret smuggled through clenched teeth;

"—and call it profit."

⚝ — BLADE

without a doubt, blade's kisses were always rushed, yet do not mistake him for the reason that it's not due to the fact that he wanted it to be this way— but because he doesn't know any softness.

yet when his lips meet yours like a wound trying to close, like violence sculpted into affection, blade realizes he's never done anything more than this before and it shows, it clearly did— in how hard he grips at you, anxiously, how tight his jaw was and the lust hovering over his facial features, like pleasure itself might annihilate him.

when you guide his mouth open with yours, his whole body shudders and there's a broken sound you picked up on, something low and strangled, torn from deep inside his throat as his hands fly to your waist— a little too rough, yes, too urgent, almost as if he's pulling you closer, tighter, closer still, he needs you, right now.

and when he feels you for the first time— truly feels you— his knees nearly buckle, not because he's overwhelmed, but because he's terrified he might never stop craving this moment once it's over.

on top of that, blade never stops pecking your lips as he kisses like a man who's never thought he'd be allowed to do this, and now, well, that he has it, he's going to burn for it.

you're riding him slowly at first, your squeals and mewls turning him on— you're beautiful, blade thinks, your moans spilling from you like sugared blasphemies— those candid, innocent, candy-shaped sounds, so bare in their honesty that it hurts to hear them and blade could've just cummed right here and there with a view like that.

he's trembling as he grasps at your moving hips— his jaw clenched, teeth grinding, hands squeezing and wiggling your flesh like he's trying to stop himself from acting out what his body's screaming to do. you repeatedly sink onto him as the air rips out from his lungs in one long, guttural moan— your cunt swallowing him whole, all at once without mercy, sucking him in like you're even needier and more lusting than him, whining out his name in brittle, cute tunes as you're being spread wide open by his cock throbbing inside.

his hips stutter upwards as he presses himself entirely inside you in many small, uncoordinated jerks as he claws at the sheets, no, fists them— quite literally anything to ground himself, little does blade realize there's no ground for him to hold onto.

there's only you— your tight, hot, walls wrapped around him, feeling like a punishment, a deliciously hot punishment— fuck, you cannot be real, your pussy was so hot, soft and spongy, his cock just drags and slips along the insides of your walls with such ease.

"i'm gonna—" he hisses through his teeth, hips fucking into you, "gonna lose my fucking mind—" as you begin to ride him faster, crueler when his body bucks and bucks and bucks then shudders violently, fingers digging into your skin, forehead pressed to your chest like he's ashamed of the sounds he's making.

"don't look at me," blade winces, voice hoarse and broad arms wrapped around your waist, "fuck, don't— i'm gonna come too fast, i can't—" but you make him, in fact, you force him to keep voicing his pleasure as you grind down faster, your mouth hovering at his ear, whispering filth not meant for daylight— each word a slow, everlasting violation.

in that moment, blade doesn't shatter— he breaks.

he sobs as you both fuck each other desperately, mind buzzing and thigh muscles clenching as multiple, sharp, beautiful sound of skin on skin ring through your ears— and then he begs, "please, i can't hold back, don't stop, don't— don't make me, fuck more—'

but you do— in fact, ultimately still your hips, immediately, controlling his orgasm at last.

because blade was made to be ruined.

⚝ — BOOTHILL

as was anticipated, boothill grins at first, easy and cocky, you know? all swagger and silver-tongued charm, the kind of smile which was made to deflect and disarm, never leaving behind his cool persona yet the second your mouth touches his, the mask he's carefully put on drops instantly as he goes rigid, his breath caught right in his chest, hands hovering like he doesn't know where to land them.

you take the lead and that breaks him.

he whines softly, almost shameful, yeah— as your tongue touches his carefully, dancing and circling around his wet muscle with his fingers tightening in your dress, carefully pulling you in like he's afraid you'll stop if he applied too much strength.

there's no finesse to the way boothill kisses, no rhythm— just desperate, clumsy passion, teeth clicking by accident, nose bumping yours, but fuck, he means it— every moan, every twitch of his hips, every shaky inhale against your cheek— it's real.

raw. untrained. perfect.

and when he pulls back at last, flushed and swollen-lipped and dazed, he whispers, "y-you— you sure you want to—?" as his voice trembles like he's already addicted to how you're about to feel around him.

boothill hasn't touched you the way he aches to— not with the desperation clawing at his insides, his hands haven't claimed the plushy flesh of your ass, haven't properly gripped and kneaded like a man starving. he hasn't wedged himself between your thighs yet, hasn't carved himself into your wet, sloppy cunt like he's imagined night after night.

although the second he slides into you, he screams, chokes on it halfway, trying to muffle it with his hand, but it's too late— you've already heard what you've done to him, his cock weeping when he fucks into your tight walls as they milk his thick seed one by one.

he's wide-eyed, dazed, his lips trembling around some half-moan, half-laugh, like he cannot believe this was happening right now, "ugh, darlin’ you— I can't— how're you so tight—" as you crush your pussy down with his hips bucking up without permission, then he sobs, actually sobs when you attempt to go slower, clutching your waist like you're the last real thing on this earth.

“you're squeezin’ me like— ugh— it's like your body knows me already," boothill drawls and throws his head back, "i'm not gonna last, baby, i'm gonna lose it—" as you kiss him deeply, tongue sliding into his mouth as he moans into it like it's salvation, his fingers trembling where they grip you with his thighs shaking under yours.

his body was not made out of flesh— no, not in the way flesh was intended, it was cold, not merely in temperature, but in essence, like the echo of a cathedral long abandoned. boothill felt manufactured, as though he were patched together in some chamber where light was forbidden and love even more so.

the man thought that he was never made for desire, in fact, only for function, for ruin, for the mechanical repetition of duty— yet when you touch him, when you kiss and smile at him, it is as if you are laying hands upon judgment itself, removing everything that has happened to him— smoothly and unyielding with love sprinkled in your eyes.

at last, here he was, trembling under you in the faintest, most shameful of ways— his ribs, cool beneath your fingers, feeling like prison bars, and still he lets you in, babbling, not knowing what he's saying anymore, words like please and more and ugh i wanna stay inside you forever spill from his lips like he's utterly drunk on you.

⚝ — SUNDAY

over the slopes of your body, sunday shakes when he ultimately touches your face— and he's good with words, yes— but here, in this special moment in time, there's only silence, nothing but the tremor of it— wet, shivering gasps caught between parted lips when he kisses you.

no language, only the soft collapse of restraint, the sound of want making the squeezes of flesh without the dignity of words, only the terrifying intimacy of skin meeting skin.

his lips brush yours once, twice— and he gets greedier, kissing you trice, testing and asking, and when you respond— when you give, he sinks into it like a drowning man, mouth plush and parted, dragging kisses down to your jaw, your neck, your collarbone with a kind of breathless awe.

he pants into your mouth like the taste of you was something forbidden, and he's just taken communion with it as his hands never stop moving, tracing every inch like he's memorizing your body.

sunday's never done this before, but somehow it's perfect— because he worships every second of it, kissing you like a call you didn't know you needed answered, evidently, the man moans your name like it burns his tongue— heavy with honor and the feverish throb of surrender.

with no punches pulled, it leaves his mouth dry, as if the very syllables were stitched within a delicious act of wickedness when his hands remain shaking, large palms warming up your hips as his fingers squeeze you towards him to move you over his erection.

oh well, sunday was so anxious he's holding you tighter than necessary, but the feeling grounds him as you took him easily.

he gasps at the moment he presses into where it goes further, his cock head popping in with ease, his breath seizing, strangled in his throat, as if his body can no longer bear the weight of sensation.

his eyes fall shut almost immediately, lashes damp with something too raw to name— like paradise, like ecstasy— quivering as though even that small act of surrender might undo him completely.

you lean forward and lick into his parted lips as he moans softly into the sloppy kiss— and fuck, you feel like you might be going insane on how big your boyfriend was, in fact, you knew he must be packed down there but ugh— your lungs were straining from pulling all the energy into keeping him inside as you squeeze him ever so tightly, every nerve on your walls ringing with the exquisite panic of too much pleasure and nowhere to place it.

underneath you, sunday appeared fragile, not weak, okay? do not call nor act like he was weak, ever.

the man was delicate in his awe, yes, in how much this mattered to him, how badly he's waited all this time, "you're inside me," he whines wetly as he ceases to think and starts to crave, "i'm inside you, i can't... it's too much."

he starts to experimentally thrust into you, sloppy grinds and shoves of hips smacking into your heat as he finds the perfect cycle for the both of you, especially for him to properly feel you but also cherish each softness and gnaw of your gummy walls, the ideal back and forth of his dick as you squeal his name for more.

sunday was filled with gratitude, lapping into your mouth and moaning into your lips like he's been possessed— sloppy and overwhelmed as your boyfriend chokes on a moan after thanking you for making him feel so good, "i've dreamed of this, but i never... never like this."

he moves with you now, the rhythm unraveling— each thrust deeper, needier, yet graceless in its urgency, as though guided more by instinct than thought. every motion dragging a cry from both of your throats, tangled in the wet heat between you as he moans against your skin without shame, breath hitching, mouth desperate against your neck, kissing you like it might quiet the quivering in his bones.

his voice cracks, although not from pain— but from the impossible, unbearable fact of you and him being one now, "fuck— i'm yours," he breathes, doused lips smearing his saliva over your skin, "baby— i'm yours, you hear me? i wanna stay here forever."

he's red all over— flushed to the tips of his ears, skin damp and shining, breath coming in ragged as his back arches, "i'd give you my soul," each of his words were fractured at the edges, broken by the quiver in his breath, moans upon moans laced through every syllable.

"if you just keep fucking me like this."

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[gyaruhana]

Hi Xae, have a good new year, I wanted to ask you if you could write about Kang Dae-ho (player 388) from Squid Game 2, where the reader joins Gihun's team and even though it's only been a few hours, she and Dae-ho already have chemistry and Dae-ho tells Gihun's friend how pretty the reader is, making him a little angry and calling him a fool in love, ty ❤!

-🦊

Kang Dae-Ho/Player 388 - Fool in love

Synopsis: You and Dae-ho get along within the first second you meet - maybe it's meant to be?

A/N: Finally dropping this !! Dae-ho is so cutie and I love him sm

Warning: none !!

A game where death is lurking right around the corner is enough to send a chill down anyone’s spine. Especially yours. You only came here because you needed the money but you weren't confident that you'd be willing to die for it. The idea that you might die soon made you utterly afraid. You had a family that you'd most definitely like to go home to but most of the other players seemed far too keen to stay in this hell and it meant you were stuck there with them too.

On a more fortunate note, there seemed to be a previous winner amidst the hundreds of other players and you'd be damned if you didn't rely on someone who knew what he was doing. If he really was a winner, then he could predict the games. Maybe then you'd actually have a chance of getting out alive and with a lot of money.

“Hi. You're the guy from earlier who said that he played this before, right?” You ask as you stand in front of player 456. You thought maybe being his ally would make you feel better but, with the way he looked up at you, he was actually kind of scary. It's like his face had been frozen into a hard glare. Though, to be fair, he was apparently the sole survivor of the game he played so he must have suffered plenty of losses. You suppose you'd look that unhappy too if you lost people you cared about.

He gives you a nod as the other people sitting around look at you too. They looked a lot less terrifying than him which made you feel a bit better. “I was wondering if maybe I could stick with you guys? I don't really want to be on my own and, since you've played these games before, you can help, right?” you ask with a hopeful look. You were really hoping that they'd be welcoming to you. 

“Mm? Who are you?” Someone suddenly speaks and, when you look towards the voice, you see a boy with food stuffed in his mouth peeking out from around the corner. His eyes briefly widen when he sees you properly before he quickly puts his food down and jumps off the bed. “Of course, you can stick with us,” he says rather eagerly as the three men behind him give him a strange look.

“Ah, really? Thank you,” you say with a nervous grin as he practically pushes you to sit down. You honestly didn't expect to be welcomed with such open arms. Actually, maybe that wasn't really a team decision but you didn't complain because now you had a team who could protect you and that you could hopefully trust. 

“So, who are you?” He asks as he grabs his food from the bed before he sits down beside you with his legs crossed. He looked genuinely interested to know everything about you and it made your heartbeat a little faster. He was cute. That was for sure. So to have his eyes on you was certainly making you slightly nervous. You cleared your throat before introducing yourself as you tried to maintain eye contact with him.

He repeats your name as if testing out how it sounds when said from his own mouth. After a slight pause, he gives a slight nod of approval before speaking up again. “I'm Dae-ho. Kang Dae-ho,” he says with a smile. In all honesty, he had never seen someone as pretty as you. You really captivated his attention. He felt like he couldn't take his eyes off you.

“Kang Dae-ho,” you repeat quietly as you engrave the name into your mind. “That's a nice name,” you say with a small smile and he smiles too. “It's supposed to mean big tiger. Kang means big and Dae-ho means tiger,” he explains before taking a bite of his food. 

“Big tiger? You don't look very big,” you say with a small smile, teasing him slightly. He swallowed down his food before responding to your comment. “Wha-? I'm big! I was a marine,” he says with a proud smirk. You look at him and down and raise an eyebrow to send a clear message that you didn't believe him one bit.

“No, I'm serious!” He says before pulling his sleeve up to reveal his tattoo. “See?” He says as he makes sure you get a good look at it. “C'mon, anyone could get that tattooed on their arm,” you say and he immediately shakes his head in denial. 

“You still don't believe me? Maybe I need to show you my strength then,” he says with a small smile before throwing some gentle punches at you. You laugh at his actions as you two play fight - something that captures the attention of the other three that were sitting around. They look at you two before exchanging a glance between each other then looking away and trying to act as if you and Dae-ho aren't clearly forming some sort of chemistry right now.

The next few hours you had spent exclusively with Dae-ho talking about every little thing. You opened up to him about why you were in these games and what you had gone through and he listened so intently, it made your heart race. You swear your brain would short circuit when he looked at you with that look. When his head was tilted and his eyes said all the words he wanted to say with his mouth.

You couldn't believe you were crushing on a guy you just met. Sure, he was a good listener, funny, strong, nice, and everything else that makes someone perfect but you couldn't just fall in love with him. Hell, you're both in a game of death! One of you could die tomorrow so you really shouldn't be letting your heart race at 100 miles per hour just because he's cute.

Before the both of you knew it, there was already five minutes until lights out and you'd all have to go to sleep to have energy for tomorrow’s game. You looked over at Dae-ho before speaking up. “Dae-ho, I'll be back. I'm just going to use the restroom,” you say with a small smile. When he nods his head, you wave before walking off quickly towards the door. He watched as you knocked on it before having it opened by a guard and then promptly disappearing round the corner. 

He let out a sigh before turning around and walking over to Jung-bae. You were so pretty. He honestly couldn't believe you were real. Maybe his brain had made you up as a coping mechanism? You were just so perfect in his eyes. Everything he could possibly want. God, he'd love to take you to dinner sometime when both of you get out of this place so he can give you the love and attention you deserve. He just wished that he could cover your face in kisses for hours on end and hold your hand while taking a walk together. He didn't care if it was cliche. It didn't matter because it was for you.

He finally made it to Jung-Bae and took a seat next to him quietly. He shifted slightly to rest his chin on his hand and waited for Jung-Bae to ask what was on his mind. It was quiet for a few moments as Jung-bae chose to pretend like Dae-ho definitely didn’t have anything to say about you so Dae-ho made the quick decision to let out another sigh- this time much louder to catch Jung-bae’s attention and force him to ask what's on his mind.

Jung-bae turns to look at him with slight annoyance. “What? Don't just sit there and sigh. What is it?” Jung-bae asks as Dae-ho turns to look at him with a shy smile. “She’s so pretty,” he says with his face flushed slightly red, embarrassed that he was fawning over you like this. “Huh?” Jung-bae responds, confused about what he was talking about. 

“Her. She’s so pretty. She has the most amazing laugh and the cutest smile and-” Dae-ho begins to speak before receiving a smack over the back of his head making him shut up. The smile on his face drops as he looks at Jung-bae like a confused puppy.

“You're such a fool. You just met her a few hours ago,” he says as he shakes his head in disapproval. Dae-ho laughs nervously as he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I guess.. but still. She's so perfect,” he says in poor defense. 

He hears the door open and his head snaps towards it immediately. He was hoping it was you because he already missed talking to you, even if it's only been a few minutes since you left for the bathrooms. When he sees you, he quickly smiles and, if he was a dog, anyone would see his tail wagging back and forth. Jung-bae let out a sigh and shook his head like some father who was disappointed in his son.

“You're planning to ask her out, aren't you?” He says only to get an immediate response.

“absolutely,”