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bywons · 5 months ago

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PULLING YOU ON THEIR LAP 𖥔 ENHYPEN

𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬──── 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋

❪ 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝐶𝑖𝑆 ❫ ｡ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗒𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋 992wc 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ── 𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 愛／ 𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

する ܃ dedicated to @.jenni cause she gave the idea for jw’s hc and then BOOM ot7 hc :0

reb𝑙ogs& ˊᗜˋ 𝑓eedbacks

LEE HEESEUNG

“do i really look good in this dress?” you pout, mindlessly monitoring yourself in front of the mirror.

“i feel like—” before you can even finish your sentence, your loving boyfriend, lee heeseung, pulls you on his lap. you land on his lap with a soft gasp, your hands automatically flying to his chest. as soon as you take in heeseung’s expression towards you, you feel heat rush to your cheeks and tips of your ear.

his infamous doe eyes lock onto yours, brimming with adoration as he quickly takes in all of you through his lovesick eyes. heeseung leans closer, his lips curling into a playful smirk as he rests his chin on your shoulder. his hands find their way to your waist, holding you firmly yet gently as if you might slip away at any moment.

“you feel like what, babe?” he whispers, teasing, “like you're the prettiest girl in the world? if so, then i agree.”

PARK JONGSEONG

your restlessness doesn't go unnoticed by your boyfriend, as you pace around the room, venting about your day.

meanwhile jay feels concerned by the minute, he wants to share your pain, your thoughts. so without a word, he reaches out and catches your wrist, gently tugging you toward him. before you can react, he pulls you onto his lap, his arms encircling your waist with a quiet possessiveness.

“jay—” “shh,” he shushes you down, before creeping his hands up against your back, tracing little circles and shapes to calm you down, while the other hand holds you in place, resting along your waist. jay leans in, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your neck which makes your breath hitch.

“you don’t always have to fight everything on your own,” he whispers, his tone laced with affection. he pushes your head against his warm chest. “lean on me, baby. i’ll always be here for you.”

SIM JAEYUN

jake whines, sighs heavily as he watches you scroll down your phone for the past hour now, and the longer he waits the more he wants to snatch you away from it. and so he does.

without a word he grabs your hand and pulls you on his lap. “jake what—” before you can even say anything, he wraps himself around you like a koala, face buried deep in your neck and hands snaking around your waist.

“jake! what are you doing?” you protest, your cheeks heating up.

“just wanted you closer,” he says simply, mumbling against your neck. his hands settle around you, his thumbs drawing lazy circles.

“you look cute you're flustered,” he giggles as you say that, he can't deny that it's completely true.

PARK SUNGHOON

a lazy afternoon, you fold your laundry while humming to yourself. when you suddenly feel gentle hands wrapping around your abdomen, and before you can react you land squarely on sunghoons lap.

“‘hoon!” you gasp sweetly, before turning towards him, taking a glance of his beautiful face, “are you feeling extra romantic, maybe?”

“how’d you know?” he mumbles, kissing your shoulders before resting his chin there, swaying the both of you side to side. he holds your tighter as if you’d slip away. sunghoons embrace brings you comfort and warmth, as he giggles into your ear with sweet nothings. just the two of you this mellow afternoon.

you lean back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you.

“you’re beautiful like this,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “stay with me a little longer.”

KIM SUNOO

you're play arguing with your boyfriend sunoo— a serious topic on who likes mint chocolate more, your teasing words earning exaggerated sighs and pouts from him.

just as you laugh at his reaction, with surprising great strength, sunoo grabs your wrist and hauls you towards him. with a gasp, your head rests over his shoulders, with you on his lap.

“okay, that’s enough,” he says with a dramatic huff, his arms locking around your waist to keep you in place. “i win.

your blink up at him, momentarily surprised at the sudden closeness and warmth from him. his touch is warm and loving, except his eyes which look down on you with a hint of playfulness and possession. he smirks, finally lighting your heart on fire.

“sunoo—!” “nope, nope. you're staying right here,” he chuckles, before leaning down to whisper, “besides, you look the best on my lap, close to me.”

YANG JUNGWON

your jaw hangs low as you stare at your boyfriend like a hawk. so this was jungwon’s sweet surprise? going blonde?

“so? say something?” he sighs. he ruffles his newly dyed hair, his lips pulling into an awkward smile, as he sits on the couch. you don’t know whether to laugh, cry or swoon, so you stammer, “you..you look different.”

“different good or different bad?” he giggles, gently pulling you closer until you land on his lap, your silken hair falling upon his cheeks. “different good,” you whisper.

“very nice then,” he whispers back, pressing a soft kiss against your lips as he pulls you closer by your waist, “i plan on being blonde the rest of my life then.”

NISHIMURA RIKI

you've been teasing and your boyfriend riki relentlessly, giggling at his exaggerated groans of frustration. he rolls his eyes, pretending to be unbothered, but you know you’ve struck a nerve. just as you’re about to say something else, he abruptly grabs your wrist and tugs you onto his lap.

“quiet,” he says, leaning closer, his voice tinged with mock annoyance. his hands rest on your thighs, steadying you as his dark eyes meet yours, full of mischief and something deeper. “you’ve been teasing me all day. now it’s my turn.”

your breath hitches as his face inches closer, the proximity making your heart pound.

he wants to laugh at your expression, but instead he gives you a sweet kiss. “you're lucky that I like you,” he giggles.

taglist────open tags in the reblogs ! network tag. @/k-labels @k-films @k-nets CLICK ME

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warlockslovetomeow · 11 days ago

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time flies...

when captain jenna assigns you to infiltrate an intel hub disguised as a jazz club in the N109 zone, you make one simple request to the universe: don’t let me run into my ex. that prayer goes unanswered. but others? you might just get lucky.

pairing: exbf!sylus x female reader warnings: MDNI, explicit sexual content, porn w plot, porn w feelings, exes w unresolved tension, possessive behavior / mild jealousy, loooots of banter, thigh rubbing build up, dirty talk, like filthy, bratty!mc, sylus wants you so bad, walk him like a dog sis, oral (m & f), eating from the back, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, mating press, cumming inside a/n: wrote this with one hand!!!!! i need this man so bad!!!!!!!! wc: 5.9k

"....located in the N109 zone. any questions?"

and then she shot you. captain jenna—your fierce and until approximately five seconds ago, loyally trusted commander—had just fired her pistol at you within point-blank range.

you swallowed the bullet lodged in your throat before responding, reaching deep within yourself to appear as neutral as possible.

"no, captain!"

damn it all. of course your previous experience in the N109 zone would put you at the top of the list for this mission. unknown to your captain though, you'd rather chew on knives than risk a chance encounter with your ex boyfriend.

but since the intel she's assigned you to look into involves a new strain of protocore tech that mimics wanderer signatures, making it nearly undetectable and dangerous for all factions, it was high priority. and unfortunately for you, the same thought was likely running through his mind.

it'd been months since your messy breakup, months since you've spoken to each other. he wouldn't dare try anything again, especially in a compromised place like a covert jazz club.

when it came to sylus, however, you knew better.

you run through the briefing details once more in your head. this intel hub operates like most others in the N109 zone: secretive and precise. a surefire way to get yourself killed in places like these is by looking confused or unsure.

your orders are to tell the bouncer you're searching for a man wearing green inside, the color being code for the information category. according to association intel, green signifies everything related to protocores. once inside, you're to head to the bar and order an emerald isle, the contents being a gin and mint martini. the mint serving as a tip-off that you're looking for fresh, new information.

from there, you're basically on your own. the guise of a jazz club is intentional, patrons are to fraternize with their drinks visible in hand, searching for people with similar colored ones. once you find someone, you relay what drink you ordered, and if they have information on such a topic, they'll take a sip from your drink.

the catch? no refills allowed. if the person has irrelevant information, you've wasted part of your opportunity.

you saunter up to the entrance of the club, your black maxi dress shaping your body perfectly and almost causing you to disappear into the low lighting, exactly as planned. if the situation were to get threatening, your dress wouldn't be a risk.

however, this mission required you to look enticing while eyes were on you. the low, fishtail back and thin straps were sure to prompt onlookers to approach you and chat. you'd keep them in line, if not with words then with your loaded gun strapped firmly to your thigh.

you smile sweetly at the bouncer, saying everything required and getting inside without breaking a sweat. the club is busy, but not overwhelmingly so. you do a full room scan and mentally note that there are around 8 people with green drinks in hand—all at different levels of fullness. after you order the emerald isle, you make your way to the floor.

time to hunt.

the moment you walked in, sylus choked on his drink.

of course you'd be the one sent here. of course the same woman who hadn’t so much as looked at him in months would stroll back into his life with a drink coded for protocore intel.

the very thing that blew everything apart.

you hadn’t changed a bit. still walked like you owned the room. still wore danger like perfume. and those straps clinging to your body? a challenge written in silk. that dress wasn’t for him, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but wonder if some part of you knew he’d be here. if some part of you wanted him to look.

hell, he was looking. couldn’t stop, actually.

he leaned back in his seat on the second-floor balcony, his eyes locked on your every move through the dim haze and low lights. moments ago, he’d been halfway through a trade with the scrawny male seated across from him. but now, the man might as well be invisible. sylus couldn’t care less about anything that didn’t involve looking at you.

he watched you flash that fake, pretty smile—the one you wore while you were on missions. no one else would know the difference. but he did.

when he saw the color of your drink, he almost laughed. no doubt you were here for information surrounding the new wanderer mimicking tech. the irony twisted like a blade between his ribs.

you hated him for hiding his connections to protocore manufacturing. said it was betrayal. said you couldn't trust someone who kept secrets like that. but you never saw the full picture. he was protecting you from yourself.

you didn’t understand, maybe you still don't, but he hadn’t been lying to hurt you. he knew what getting you involved would cost. he knew you, and the second you found out the truth about what exactly onychinus was sponsoring, it'd drag you into the depths of the mystery surrounding your aether core. he knew you wouldn't be able to stop pursuing it all, no matter what it did to you.

and now, here you were. wading waist-deep into the same fire he lost you to.

sylus clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around his glass. he should look away. should let you do what you came here to do.

but then some lowlife in a tacky rust-colored suit slithered up to you, requesting a dance. he was too close. acted too familiar. sylus watched your smile shift into something tight and forced. the kind you used when you were baiting someone.

no.

he wasn’t going to just sit back. not when you were back in his orbit, whether you meant to be or not. and not when he still wanted you just as badly as the day you walked away.

this had to be some sort of punishment. you must’ve pissed off the universe in a past life to end up pressed against a man wearing the ugliest rust-colored suit known to mankind. he smelled like sweat masked with cheap cologne. every inch of him screamed sleaze. yet, here you were, letting him touch you. because, of course, the filthiest bastard in the room had the most valuable intel so far. and with your drink nearly empty, you couldn’t afford to cut the dance short.

his grimy left hand rested on your waist—drifting lower with each passing second—while his other clung to his green drink like he planned to propose to it before the night was over.

"...only sold to the 1%, then trickling downwards to whoever can afford those prices. say darling, you oughta come home with me tonight. there's a lot more i can tell ya, you know, in private." his voice dripped like oil, and as he leaned in to whisper the last part, his fingers slid beneath the open hem of your back.

you resisted the overwhelming urge to pull out your pistol and really show him something private.

instead, you forced a breath and put on a tight smile. a smile that was nowhere near reaching your eyes, barely a curl on your lips. then you steered him back to the reason you were even still breathing the same air. “who are they buying from? is there no logo? no trace of manufacturing?”

“not a thing,” he said, grinning like he thought he was clever. “but I did hear some old abandoned buildings around the N109 zone have been lighting up lately. enough space to test high risk tech in those.”

you could barely hold back your eye roll. the way he spoke, like you owed him something just for opening his mouth, grated on every nerve in your body. and he looked at you like he planned to collect on that imagined debt in full.

“where’s the closest one?” your tone had a sharp edge now. his fingers kept wandering, and your patience was running thin. you needed this conversation over. and this man dead.

"hmm? not far from here. i'd say about—”

he didn’t get to finish.

a tall figure stepped between you and the creep, sliding a hand onto your waist in place of the one you'd been seconds from snapping in half. you didn’t need to look. didn’t need to double check.

you could recognize sylus by touch alone.

“mind if I cut in?” he said smoothly, his voice low and razor-sharp. “this man appears to be more thirsty than classy.”

you sighed. worst timing possible.

"no, thank you. that’s the idea,” you replied coolly, but it didn’t matter.

sylus had already made his move. the shorter man stumbled back, face ghost-white, mumbling something that sounded like an apology—or maybe a prayer—before scurrying off as if sylus had just rearranged his face with a look alone.

then, he turned to you.

he didn’t speak at first, only stared. like he couldn’t breathe, like he couldn’t believe you were real. his gaze swept over you, slow and starving, as if he were trying to memorize every inch before you vanished again. not a trace of a smirk, just a man who’d been sucker punched by the sight of you.

but eventually, sylus flipped the mental switch. he stepped closer, hand outstretched, voice as smooth as sin, "this place was dangerous before you walked in. now, it doesn’t stand a chance.”

you stared at him, unblinking, letting the silence hang just long enough to make your point. the theatrics didn’t impress you, but the corner of your mouth twitched anyway, a reflex you hated. with another sigh you stepped forward, your hand sliding into his like muscle memory.

before you could get a word in, sylus reached for the drink still in your hand. his fingers brushed yours, unhurried and deliberate, as he took it from you without asking to silently relieve the burden.

his other hand found your waist and you let yours rest on his shoulders, the familiar feel of him under your fingertips sending a shiver through you.

it was dangerous how easy it was. how quickly your steps matched the rhythm. how naturally your body leaned into his, like the time apart had never happened. the jazz music swelled around you and you both moved with it like something practiced in another life.

then his mouth was near your ear, voice dipping low as the air between you tightened. “careful. you dance like someone who remembers exactly how I feel.”

“i dance like someone who can’t wait for this song to end," you shot back, your tone sharp enough to cut.

"no," he said, like he knew something you didn't. "you dance like someone pretending the space between us isn't pulling you in.”

a tense beat passed.

"poetic. a bit too drab for my taste, unfortunately."

“you used to like the way I spoke when it was your name in my mouth.” his voice danced down your spine like a dirty promise, hot enough to make your stomach twist.

you hated it. hated that he still had this hold on you. that months later, you still reacted.

you bit back, voice steady and full of edge. “and you used to listen when I said no.”

“you never said no when it was just the two of us.”

his tone was so unbothered, so undeniably sylus. you hated how your chest ached at that. you'd buried that version of you with him a long time ago. or at least you thought you had.

you glared at him, trying to telepathically communicate how badly you wanted him to burn.

the song then faded into a slower, darker tune. like even the music knew how deadly this was becoming.

you stepped back, but only a hair. not enough to give him the satisfaction. just enough to remind yourself you still could.

his gaze followed the retreat like it hurt him to let you go. “how did you find out about this hub? did you come alone?”

you didn’t answer. instead, you turned from him. a clean, intentional break. you were done letting him circle you like he still had the right.

but his fingers caught your wrist before you could fully disappear from him again, placing your hand back on his shoulder.

“an emerald isle,” he murmured. “what intel are you here for?”

you looked him dead in the eyes, annoyance painting your features. “sooo many questions. do you always get this chatty when you're trying not to look desperate?"

god, he missed you. missed when you got like this with him. he loved nothing more than when you challenged him, rough and biting.

“just concerned, sweetie. especially if what you know brought you here…" his smile curled as he spoke. "…looking like this.”

“that's too bad. you don’t get to play protective anymore. that role expired." your voice came out flat and cold, like you had rehearsed the indifference.

“mmm. but it seems your feelings for me haven’t, kitten.”

“funny. i don’t remember ever admitting I had them.”

“no? then why are your thighs tensing like they remember everything?”

your breath hitched. not loud, but enough to make you furious with yourself. heat flushed up your throat, mortification and memory colliding in the worst possible way. you hated that he noticed. hated more that he was right. that your body reacted before your mind could catch up.

you didn’t let the silence stretch. couldn’t let it stretch.

"you're in my way."

sylus tilted his head, the smirk on his lips making your blood boil. “and you’re in my thoughts. every day. every night. doesn’t feel fair, does it?”

“what’s not fair is how your ego somehow survived our breakup.” you spoke through gritted teeth, still recovering from his last blow.

“you don’t have to say it," he was grinning now—the bastard. "i can feel it.”

“what, your neediness?” you practically spit back, the tension between you thick enough to choke on.

“yours, actually. you’re shaking, kitten."

“it’s rage.”

“mmm. is that what we’re calling want these days?”

before you could fire off something scathing, sylus wrapped his fingers around your wrist again and this time he pulls. not hard, just enough to close the last of the distance. chest brushing chest, breath mingling in the small space in between your lips.

“you think I don’t know that look in your eyes? that tilt in your hips when you dance near me? you want distance, yet your body keeps inching closer," his voice was low, fever laced into every syllable. "what am I to believe?”

“i'm working, sylus. this—” you gestured between your bodies, the closeness, the feelings, all of it. “—can’t happen again."

his smirk fades, but not into hurt. into hunger. “then tell me to stop.”

you don't.

his fingers trace the underside of your jaw, measured and daring.

“say it." he murmurs. "say stop.”

but you don't. you can’t. your lips part, but not for protest. then—

“is there a problem here?” a voice cuts through from behind, snapping the spell. a man steps between you and sylus, eyes flickering between your faces. “doesn’t look like you want to be with him, sweetheart. just say the word.”

“step back,” sylus says before you can even breathe, his tone icy. possessive. “you’re in her space. that’s the problem.”

the man falters, visibly unsettled by the sharp gleam of red in sylus’ eye. “i’m sure she’d prefer someone who doesn’t drag her around the dance floor.”

sylus smirks at him, deadly calm. “she’s exactly where she wants to be.”

it seems the man recognizes onychinus' leader, because that’s all it takes. the man backs off without another word.

you let the silence settle, pulse still fluttering from both the interruption and everything before it.

“jealousy doesn’t suit you,” you tease, turning your head just enough to draw his eyes back to your mouth.

“neither does watching you pretend you don’t miss me,” he shoots back, matching your quip as he always excelled at doing.

“i don’t.”

he smirks. “liar.”

your voice sharpens. “we’re broken up, sylus. don’t you recall?”

his gaze doesn’t waver. “i remember everything. your laugh. your skin. the way you used to—”

“don’t,” you cut in, voice like a blade. “you don’t get to say those things anymore.”

he leans in anyway, close enough that you can taste the desire radiating off him.

“then stop looking at me like that.”

“like what?” you hiss.

his mouth curved with mischief and warning. “like you want me to follow you upstairs.”

you blinked, heart slamming so hard it hurt. and for one breath, you let yourself feel it, all the pain he left behind.

then you swallowed it whole, and drowned in him.

as you both slipped out of sight from the crowded dance floor, sylus tugged you closer, kissing you like he’d been starved. your bodies stumbled up the stairs, hands tangled and desperate, a hunger between you that neither could deny. he pressed you against the wall at the top of the stairs, his lips trailing down your neck, each kiss an act of claiming. you felt his eagerness press against you and your head swirled deliciously.

“i can feel how badly you want me,” you taunt, chest rising as you fight for composure. “want me so bad you’d drop to your knees if I told you to, wouldn’t you?”

"you could make me beg for you. and more." he pressed into you, harder now. his body solid against yours as the air became thick with want. “but we both know you want to be the one on your knees."

you pull off him with a smirk of your own, opening the closest door and leading him inside. “you think you’re the only one who knows how to play this game?”

once you both stepped into the room, you shove sylus back onto the bed. his handsome face tipped up at you from where he landed, eyes cocky and smug despite being beneath you.

"i’m the one who taught you how to play, sweetie.”

you lock the door behind you with a click, leaving him on the bed to watch every calculated move you made.

you turn to face him. your steps unhurried, hips swaying like a predator with a plan. his gaze devours you as you reach the center of the room and spin your back to him.

the low hem of your dress dips scandalously, held up only by two delicate straps. you slide one down, then the other. the fabric sinks down your body, every inch a show for the man breathing heavier by the second.

the fabric hits the floor and you step out of it and cross the room. sylus sits on the edge of the bed, legs spread like he's trying not to burst at the sight of you.

you drop to your knees before him, fingers ghosting up his thighs.

you undo his belt like it’s second nature, because it is, but this time there's no soft glances or whispered promises. only tension, sweat, and the sharp edge of something darker.

you shift him out of his underwear and he's already leaking, throbbing for you. you pull him out slow, eyes locked on his like a dare. despite taking him plenty of times before, his huge length still intimidated you. and made your mouth water.

then, with his hard cock still in your hands, you tilt your head back and loll your tongue out with a dirty smile.

“fuck,” he breathes, before leaning forward and spitting directly into your open mouth.

you swirl it around with your tongue, exaggerated and filthy, before letting it drip from your lips straight onto the tip of his cock. you stroke him with it, twisting your wrist just right, watching him twitch and strain in your grasp as you spread the mess down him.

sylus manages a breathless smirk. “has our time apart made you dirtier?” his voice is wrecked. “or have you missed me this much?”

you drag your tongue up his length, lingering on his sensitive vein, then pull back with a wet pop. the action drives him wild, and he has to bite his lip to stop himself from groaning.

your eyes gleam with something wicked. “you’re so much more attractive when you’re moaning for me instead of talking.”

your lips part again, this time to take him in painfully slow. you twirl your tongue around his tip, the taste so familiar it makes your eyes roll back. the mix of fluids slick his cock all the way down to the base, your lips shiny and swollen around him.

then you sink lower and he can’t stop staring. can’t stop twitching in your mouth like he’s about to blow from just the sound of your gag. his hips jerk when the tip hits the back of your throat, and you pull off again with a sinful smirk.

“you always get so twitchy when i barely touch you,” you purr, stroking him with lazy precision. “what happened to that control you're so proud of?”

his jaw tightens at your jab, hands gripping the edge of the bed so hard his knuckles go white. while he did enjoy you challenging him, you were working his last nerve.

you lean in once more, smiling with satisfaction at his reaction. your movement light on his aching cock, suckling and teasing, never committing. your hands move unhurried, your mouth even slower, and his whole body is trembling from restraint.

sylus lets out a low, ruined growl. “keep teasing me and you'll regret it, kitten.”

“is that a threat or a promise?” you whisper, licking along the underside of his shaft. “because it sounds a lot like begging to me.”

his hands tremor like he wants to grab you, but you stay in control. for now.

you now take him with vigor, enough to make him moan, then stop. again. and again. always just a little more, never enough. he's throbbing in your grip, leaking like he could cum from this alone.

“fuck,” he mutters. “you’re gonna drive me insane.”

you pout with faux innocence. “what, this?” you give him a long, slow lick, eyes full of mockery. “close already?”

and then he snaps.

in a blur of motion, sylus grabs you by the hair, pulls you up, and throws you onto the bed, flat on your back.

you barely have time to gasp before he's on you, all passion and vengeance. he slides between your thighs, yanking your panties off like they personally committed your aggravating acts.

“you wanna tease?” he snarls, breath hot against your inner thigh. “then fucking take it.”

his mouth hovers just above your dripping cunt, teasing you now. his turn to play. he breathes against your folds, lips barely brushing, just enough to make you whimper.

“what’s wrong, sweetie?” he taunts, voice thick with revenge and lust. “thought you liked going slow.”

you reach down and twist your fingers in his hair, yanking his face into you with a growl of your own.

“eat. or i will ride your face and make you regret waiting.”

sylus keens at your words, tongue diving in like a man starved. he loved when you got rough with him, turning him on like no other.

you moan right back at the feeling of him, legs already starting to shake. there's no more teasing in his movements, he’s messy, frantic, seemingly obsessed. his mouth is somehow everywhere at once, like he’s trying to drown in your taste.

you writhe under him, losing every ounce of control you once held. and he doesn’t stop. not even when your thighs close around his head. not even when you scream his name.

there’s no finesse, just open mouthed hunger, his tongue and lips on a mission to touch every part of you. then he adds two fingers, slipping in deep and curling them just right, hitting that spot you never could on your own. you gush around them, soaking his hand, and he groans like the mess is a gift.

you clutch the sheets below you, the sensation too much and not enough. every time his nose nudges your clit, every hit of his perfectly angled fingers, your body jolts. the bed creaks below you as he pushes you closer and closer to that high you've been chasing for months. but nothing, nothing, ever touched you like this.

your orgasm starts barreling toward you and right when you're on the cusp of mind numbing pleasure—

he slows down.

right as your toes curl and your thighs tense, he pulls back. you whine, strung out and soaked.

you’re about to beg when you notice the bed is still shaking. not just from you.

sylus is grinding against the mattress. hard and desperate.

you let out a breathless, evil little laugh. “you’re humping the bed? i’m the one getting eaten alive, and you’re the one falling apart?”

you should’ve stopped there. you really should’ve.

but you smirk, lift your hips so you can meet his eyes, and whisper, “what, couldn’t wait your turn?”

his face changes at that, deep and pissed, then he grabs your hips and flips you onto all fours like you weigh nothing.

“should’ve filled your throat with cum to shut that mouth,” he hisses into your ear.

before you can reply, his hands are spreading you open and his mouth is back on you. from behind.

his tongue laps at your entrance, filthy and unrelenting, while his fingers sneak down to bully your clit in ruthless circles. your arms give out at the same time as your legs begin to buckle, but he doesn’t let you fall. one strong arm wraps around your waist whilst the other pleasures you without mercy.

you greedily grind your ass into his face and he groans at the action like he wants to live between your thighs. you clench around his tongue, fluids mixing together, and the mess just spurs you on further. spurs him on further. the building liquids slide down your legs, coating his face and all he wants is more.

you’re about to fall apart all over again when he pulls away in one fluid motion.

your body collapses onto the bed, shaking from the sudden change. you roll onto your back, dazed and desperate.

sylus wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, not even trying to be subtle, and spreads your legs wide. his eyes drink in the sight, as if your glistening pussy was some divine offering.

you pout, fingers drifting toward your clit, desperate to finish what he stole. but sylus grabs your wrist, pins it above your head, and lines himself up with you. his neglected cock dripping with precum as he slides it between your folds.

you bite your lip at how heavy and huge he is. the head alone makes your thighs tremble.

then he leans down, mouth right against your ear.

“you’re not cumming,” he murmurs, slow and cruel, “unless it’s on my cock.”

your breath stutters. it’s been months since you took him, months since your body was trained for that stretch. he was so big, it hurt. you swallow hard, pride burning at your own words.

"just… not too fast,” you say, trying to stay steady. “okay?”

he tilts his head, mocking you with that fake-soft voice. “of course, sweetie. whatever you need.”

he kissed your forehead like the lover he once was.

then slammed his full length inside you.

your mouth opens in a silent scream. he’s thick, obscene, and the sudden stretch makes your vision fade out. you claw at his biceps, nails digging in, but he doesn't care.

“you thought that bratty little attitude was gonna earn you favors?” he grits out, voice strained and dark with desire.

he pulls out almost completely, then drives back in deeper. harder.

“be good and take it.”

your mind is reeling, your body even worse. you're clenching around him like a vice, almost trying to force him to slow down. he doesn't.

in fact, he lets go of the hand pinning yours above your head and grabs your hips instead, tilting them up and fucking into you faster. he’d force you to take it. you always liked it rough.

"just needed some dick to shut you up, hmm?" he stated, each word hitting with the rhythm of his thrusts.

you almost choke. he was drilling so deep it felt like he was aiming for your throat. his hand then slid over your stomach and pressed down, and he grinned above you like the smug devil he is when he felt himself moving inside you.

"shut up—nghh—'n fuck me harder." you manage out, your tone not matching the challenge in your voice even slightly.

your body remembered him now. that stretch, that angle. you were soaking him, walls practically begging for him. his cock slipped in and out like he owned it. because he does.

sylus realizes it too, because he leans in, pushing impossibly deeper before gloating in your face. "this pussy missed me. she’s crying for it."

you try to snap something back, something sharp, anything to bite into his smugness. but it dies on your tongue the second his hips grind into yours. his cock drags deep and slow, just once, and your whole body locks up. the stretch is somehow overwhelming and perfect. like you were made for him.

your fingers scramble over his back, clinging to him for stability, but all you can manage is a strangled, “fuck, sylus—”

his rhythm falters, just for a second, but you feel it. his gaze snaps to yours, suddenly serious. his body stills then, cock twitching inside you. it seemed like he was searching for something in you that he was too scared to name.

he leans in once more, but this time not to hit deeper. to look at you, really look. his breath fanned your lips, your cheeks, your throat.

"you missed me too," he says. no question in it.

you want to lie. bite back with something petty and proud. but your pussy clenches around him like it’s answering for you, loud and shameless.

your chest heaves as you stare up at him. your throat aches from holding back all the things you swore you’d never say.

and still, you whisper it.

“yours.”

sylus goes rigid at your confession.

you feel a shudder pass through his entire body. he clenched his jaw while his hands trembled against your waist, grip tightening. then something breaks. he manhandles your thighs up and wide, body looming over yours.

“say it again.” he demands in between guttural grunts. “say you’re mine.”

you wail at the change in position, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes and pleasure twisting in your belly like a storm. “'m yours. fuck—sylus, i’m yours.”

his chest pins your thighs to your torso, folding you nearly in half. the angle makes your head dizzy, an entirely new world of bliss. you’re split open, completely at his mercy, and your cunt pulses around him like it knows it’s where it belongs.

“fucking say it while I ruin you.” his voice cracks, hips pistoning forward again and again. he’s completely unraveling, thrusts messier now, more desperate.

you chant it like a mantra. “yours, yours, yours—”

“look at you,” he grunts, sweat dripping from his jaw onto your chest. “taking me so good now. tight little pussy just needed a reminder.”

his pace is brutal and unrelenting. your thighs shake, pinned wide open, helpless to do anything but feel every inch of him. be filled by him.

his eyes don’t leave yours. there’s hunger there, but you also notice something raw too. that longing feeling you thought only you felt.

sylus dips down, lips brushing yours, and murmurs against your mouth. “you really gonna go back out there like this?”

you blink at him, dazed. “huh?”

“full of me,” he snarls, hitting deep enough to knock the breath from your lungs. “my cum soaking your thighs while you try to finish your mission. think you can keep it in?”

you moan loudly at his filthy words and he grins against your cheek.

“say you want it. say you want me to fill you up.”

you don’t even hesitate.

“yes please! sylus, want it!”

“say it right.” he commands, snapping his hips so hard the bed frame groans. “tell me who you belong to.”

“you! ’m yours—fuck—please cum inside me!”

he loses it.

his grip tightens bruisingly on your hips, dragging you down to meet every savage thrust. the drag of his cock is erratic, his body shuddering above yours.

“gonna fill you up,” he pants, “make you mine all over again—shit!—you’re gonna leak for me, kitten. gonna walk outta here with my cum dripping down your thighs and everyone knowing you let me claim you.”

the possessiveness in his voice sends you spiraling. your pussy clenches tight, fluttering around him like your body’s already begging for it. the tension in your belly coils impossibly tight. every hard, brutal thrust inside you making your vision blur.

“sylus,” you gasp, pitch high and breathless, “close, please—”

“you wanna cum on my cock?” he asked, slamming into you with the full force of his weight. “wanna milk me while I fill this cunt up?”

you nod frantically, tears spilling down your cheeks. “yes, yes! please, wanna cum with you, wanna feel you!”

sylus drops his head to your shoulder, teeth scraping your skin. "go on, then. show me how bad you want me."

and you do.

you shatter with a loud cry, your orgasm hitting like a wave that floods your senses. you clench tight around him in spasms that make your back arch off the bed and your fingers dig into his back to anchor yourself. you sob his name as your pussy pulses around him, your entire body wrung out and shaking.

“that’s it,” he moans deeply, his rhythm stuttering as your walls clamp down. “so tight—”

and he’s right there with you.

with a sharp groan, he drives himself deep to bury every inch inside. his hips jerk and his cock twitches as he spills into you, hot and thick. his voice breaks as he utters your name out like a prayer. one hand squeezes your thigh tight while the other trembles on your waist, trying to hold himself together while he fills you up.

you’re shaking, panting into his shoulder, pulling him close as his warmth spills into you. he doesn’t pull out. not yet. just stays there, breathing ragged against your skin, forehead pressed to yours.

your body trembles with aftershocks, cunt fluttering weakly around his cock, milking every drop from him like your body refuses to let him go.

“fuck,” he whispers, voice almost gentle. “you were made for me.”

you’re still dazed, your brain lagging behind the high. you can feel him dripping out of you already, warm and slick between your thighs.

he leans in, brushing a kiss to your temple, like the lover he is.

“you better squeeze those legs shut when you leave,” he murmurs, cocky smirk creeping back in. “i don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.”

a/n(2): first time writing sylus, hope i did him justice >_< likes and reblogs r super appreciated, lmk your thoughts on this!!!

@mcdepressed290 here is your tag friend as requested. hope u enjoy!!!

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orphicmusings · 2 months ago

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nothing’s gonna hurt you, baby

summary: the aftermath of what happened in skyhaven with pre-relationship sylus. hurt/comfort, exploring mc’s trauma.

A simultaneous sigh blooms from both of your lungs as the last wanderer crumbles into oblivion. The dust of its essence floated up to the polluted night sky of the N109 zone, painting artificial stars for the pair of victors below. Sylus lifts his gaze to you after he scrapes what’s left of the aftermath from his fingernails. He looks infuriatingly unaffected. You, however…

“You look like shit.” He remarks playfully, his eyes softening as he holds out his hand to help you up. You, like he anticipates, softly slap it away and get up on wobbly legs. “Fuck off.” You retort, still trying to catch your breath, and he simply smiles- striding next to you and subtly offering you his weight to lean on. You tried stubbornly standing on your own, but found yourself surrendering to his quiet help as you walked back to his bike.

“I’m not letting you ride back to Linkon like this.” He huffed, handing you his spare helmet, the one that is practically yours at this point. “Spend the night at the base.” Coming from him, it sounded more of a purring command than a gentle suggestion. “Get some beauty sleep.”

You had felt your muscles tense and your heart clenched as you were rapidly reminded of the last time you stayed over someone else’s place. The sound of doors locking, the pills, the confusion, the breathing man that you still mourned. Before you could refuse, though, a traitorous yawn escaped your throat. You knew he was right, that you were in no shape to travel home, and it’s not like he could exactly traipse into Linkon at the moment to accompany you. Besides, you’ve been fighting alongside him for a while now, and while he has little weaknesses, you’re willing to exploit them if need be. “Alright.” You breathe your surrender as you put the helmet on, bracing yourself for his driving skills.

Luke and Kieran greet you at the door like eager puppies. What happened, boss? Boss lady? Did ya kill something? How many? How bloody? Any guts?

Sylus held out a commanding hand and answered for you, thankfully. “Don’t ambush the poor girl, she’s beat up.”

You rolled your eyes at that. “I’m not beat up-”

“Come.” He holds his arm out for you, and you defeatedly take it, blindly following wherever he deigns to go.

“My head…” You groaned at the harsh overhead kitchen light being flicked on, rubbing your temples. “Does the big bad mob boss happen to have ibuprofen?”

“I’m not headache proof, believe it or not.” He exhaled a small chuckle. “Sit down.” He ushered you to the sofa across from the kitchen table. You obliged, but not because he told you to, of course. You were achey, dirty and exhausted. He held a glass of water in one hand and two pills in the other, and you hesitated slightly as you let him give them to you. Turning the pills over in your fingers with a squint of your eyes, you looked for the label etched into the chalky red circles to identify that it was, in fact, ibuprofen.

Sylus noticed. Of course he noticed, he always does. “What?” He tilts his head, confused, but his tone still holds a hint of safe and familiar teasing. “You think I’m slipping you something?”

Swallowing back those nagging memories again along with the medicine, you force a chuckle. “Can never be sure with a lawless scoundrel like you, can I?”

He grinned, one of those rare smiles of his, toothy and reaching for his ruby eyes. “I may be a lawless scoundrel, sweetheart, but I’m not a monster.”

Not a monster, because a monster would do that.

Your best friend in the whole world would do that.

A deep breath left you, ready to be rid of this conversation topic. “Can I take a shower?”

His wide grin melted down to his signature smug smirk once again. “In which wing?”

Sylus’s living situation was fucking ridiculous. Four bathrooms with showers, three of them with tubs. For, what, three people? You shake your head in disbelief as he leads you to a guest room. Just as lavish as the rest of the place, the first thing that stares back at you is the neatly made king sized bed. A leather futon sits across it, right next to an enormous closet. Before you can gawk at any other evidence of luxury in the room, he shuts the door behind you. Your gaze instinctively flies to the knob, the phantom click still ringing in your ears. Your shoulders hunch, posture stilling as you find yourself waiting for it— but the door remains unlocked. If Sylus noticed, he gave you the grace of ignoring it and deciding he teased you enough for now. He opens the closet, unhooking a hanger from inside, draping a plush back bathrobe from it. “This should fit you.” You ran your hands along the fluffy material, unable to stop touching it. “And could I wash my clothes after-“

“I will.” He assures you with an interruption. “Leave them outside the door. I’ll find something laying around for you to change into so you don’t have to wait for them to dry.” You nodded, not expecting this level of consideration from him. It brings an irritating, fond heat to your cheeks. “Right. Thank you.”

“Just being a good host.” He smirks, opening the bathroom door. The bathroom was, of course, also fucking ridiculous. Dark marble walls, spotless black tile floors. A black Japanese bathtub next to the spacious shower stall. Woody, spicy potpourri wafted through the air from a bowl on the sink. He moves to shut the door, and you turn. “Um…” Swallow. “Is it okay to keep the door unlocked?” He frowned in confusion, and you quickly added, “It’s the steam. Too much in an enclosed space, I get a headache and I already have one, so I-“

“Okay.” He simply agrees, leaving you no room to over-explain and lie further. You’re almost taken aback with the ease he’s treating you with, but if you think about it, he’s always just accepted. He may question once or twice, but always nods his head without judgment.

You showered all of the blood and grime off your skin, but the reminder of Skyhaven clung under your fingernails no matter how much you scrubbed. It was something you had been pushing away from the forefront of your mind for weeks, almost a month now.

It’s not what you think it is, you remind yourself as you clench your fist, watching the hot water droplets roll off your knuckles. It’s Caleb. He was trying to protect me…

“No, we’re not doing this right now!” You mumbled aloud to yourself. Think, think, think of something else. You abruptly turned the valve to the wall, the water turning freezing cold. Your breathing seemed to slow down with the ice hitting your veins, and by the time you caught two chills, you stepped out and toweled off. The robe felt nice against your damp skin, the fuzz of it all absorbing the water droplets quickly. Opening the door, you see the clothes Sylus left for you in a neat pile: two items. A black satin button down with an “S” monogrammed into the breast pocket with golden embroidery, and grey basketball shorts. A dry snort found its way out of your nose. What a look.

You swam in them, of course, but in a cozy way. You folded the waistband of the shorts until they would aptly rest on your hips, and you didn’t mind the way the shirt’s sleeves hung past your fingers. The shirt smelled like him. Like his stupidly nice cologne, the familiar scent of spices and leather on the collar.

You let your exhausted body drive you to sleep.

The door is locked.

The eyes you used to seek comfort in refuse to soften.

You blindly take his sleeping pills.

The door is locked.

He pins you down on the sofa, next to a photo of the two of you in a frighteningly similar position, play-fighting and laughing.

He threatens to wrap a collar around your throat.

Your pleas fall on deaf ears.

The man in front of you is breathing, but he is long dead.

The door is locked.

Your heart drops you awake, out of breath and eyes watery.

You are not in your bed.

Where are you?

You push the covers off you before you could even remember, rushing to swing the door open. The force of the mahogany hitting the wall got the attention of your gracious host.

“Sweetie…” A deep voice rumbled up your spine. Sylus.

You’re with Sylus.

The pet name lacked all the familiar playful condescension, more of a brace, a concerned approach to a wild, wounded animal. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t answer at first, your clouded mind still assessing the situation. Your shoulders relax a fraction as you register your surroundings, Sylus’s base. You spent the night here after a hunt. You’re with Sylus, you want to be here, and the door was unlocked. Your grip on the doorknob loosens. Sylus slowly comes out from behind you and into your field of vision. “Sit.” He ushers you back into the room, sitting on the bed and patting the silk sheets. You slowly obey, perching on the bed with your knees hugged to your chest. A gentle expression paints his face, something you could’ve sworn you’ve never seen before. “I’m going to ask again.” He urges softly, slowly, the brisk command his tone usually carried melted away.

You can lie to anyone in your life. You could have said it was a bug in your blankets. A noise, he thought of an intruder. Even a nightmare about something else. You can lie to anyone in your life, except for the man in front of you who looks worried for the first time you’ve seen it. You can lie to anyone in your life, except for the man who seems to know your very soul despite only knowing you for a handful of months.

You don’t even try, clenching your fists so tight you’re sure your fingernails would draw blood out of the meat of your palm.

“I can’t tell you…” You murmured, holding back the flood. “Because if I do, it becomes real.”

He frowned, his head tilting to the side slightly. He pushed a soft smile out of the corner of his mouth. “I won’t tell reality if you won’t, sweetheart.”

You exhaled out of your nose shortly, an amused puff of air followed by a sniffle. “No, I’m…it’s serious.”

“I know.” He sat back on his elbows, blanketing the atmosphere with a sense of leisure and ease. That was something you had to admit he was good at. “I’ve noticed.”

You turn to him. “What?”

“You checked the pills I gave you.” He started. “I thought that was a one off, maybe you being extra careful, but then you announced you were gonna shower with the door unlocked-“

You scoffed shakily. “Okay, I didn’t announce-“

“The point is…” He interrupted. “You’ve been…off tonight.”

You don’t know how to answer. You know that at this point, if you open your mouth, the tears will start free falling.

“You don’t have to explain.” Fuck him for always reading your mind. “But you just need to tell me you’re alright. No guest feels unsafe under this roof.”

“It’s not you.” You assure shakily, resting your chin on your knees. “It’s…a long story.”

He nodded, accepting again. “I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Um…” You suck in a breath through your nose. Here we go. The tube of toothpaste is squeezed. Your voice is slow, measured as you continue. “Remember about three weeks ago I went to Skyhaven?”

You began to unload. From the top. He knew of the explosion, the one you wrongfully blamed him for. The reminder of that moment brings a flash of mortified heat to your cheeks, expecting him to bring it up. You pause for it, the tease, the coy ‘Yes, kitten, I’m so bad,’ but it doesn’t come. His eyes just pave a delicate path down your face, waiting for you to continue. You watch them widen slightly when you tell him your childhood best friend survived, and that you found him up there. Your words shake and choke in your throat when you get to the next part, tears pricking the back of your eyes. You squeeze them shut, and feel a feather-light weight on your hand; his covering yours. A soft affirmation, a silent I’ve got you. The action is so tender, it pushes even more tears to your waterline. You purse your trembling lips at the gentleness of it all, the opposite of the force you two exuded over one another when you first met. You shoot him point blank in the chest, and he holds your hand like it’s precious gold.

“Sweetie…” He looks at you as if the sight of your face twisted in tears makes him violently ache. “Don’t cry.”

Which of course, makes you cry more. He closes the distance between you within a second, pulling you into his side. “I’m trying not to.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He whispers gently, rubbing his thumb over your bare shoulder, the collar of his shirt hanging off of you. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

It takes a few minutes to gather the words, because how exactly do you say, I think my best friend held me hostage in his home and slipped me pills but I think it’s not really him based on zero evidence?

His thumb stopped its soothing rhythm. “He what?”

You cringe and stammer. You feel caught, for some irrational reason. “I-I know what it sounds like, but-”

“No.” He shook his head, his tone still soft but firm. “No, you don’t have to protect him.” He has to bite back the snarl in his voice, fight to keep his words gentle. “Not after he does this…” He wipes a tear from your cheek, his fingers lingering on the skin for a moment. “Not after he does this to you.” His voice shakes alongside yours, for different reasons. “You don’t need to tell me anything more, but you don’t protect him, either.”

You look up at him, drawing in a deep breath. It makes you realize that’s exactly what you’ve been doing all this time, refusing to acknowledge it. While he was ruining you, you were protecting his memory. At the same time, though, what you know about the professor and Caleb’s abnormal behavior flipping like a switch makes you doubt it was fully him that did this to you. Even if it wasn’t, it doesn’t mean it didn’t affect you so deeply that you’re crying into the arms of the person you’d least expect. You watch his fists clench. “He didn’t…” A hesitation. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”

You vehemently shake your head and you could hear a small breath of relief. “It wasn’t like that.” You go to explain again, to defend him, but stop yourself. “It was so scary.” He breathes a deep sigh, tightening his arms around you.

“I know.” He whispers. “I know, sweet girl, but you were brave.”

You scoff tearfully. “No I wasn’t.”

“You’re here.” He pointed out, brushing his hand through your hair. “Not there. I know your prowess firsthand.”

A pathetic half-laugh exits your chest, followed by more sobs. He holds you even tighter as you cling to his grounding familiarity. He does that for as long as you need it, waiting patiently as he assures you you did the right thing, that you’re safe with him, that he could walk into Linkon and take you home right now, bounty be damned; whatever it is you need to hear.

“I’ve got you.” He whispers into your hair. Your head is atop his chest, laying down now. Your eyes are closed, and he can tell you’ve cried yourself to sleep. “Always have. Always will.”

When your breaths turn steady, he moves slightly to get his phone from his pocket. One hand on your back, the other on the keyboard, he types a message to Luke and Kieran.

Farspace Fleet Colonel. Lives in Skyhaven. Name’s caleb. Need any and all information there is to know ASAP.

Another message.

Boss Lady will not let you hurt him, as much as I am dreaming the different ways I could make him hurt right now. Do not go after him. Just watch.

Two pairs of thumbs up from the twins follow the message, not needing any further instruction or explanation. He locks his phone and leans his head against the pillow, giving you a soft kiss on the forehead. It’s quiet now, the only sound surrounding him are your soft breaths and Mephisto’s caws into the night as he suddenly takes a trip up north.

#my writing #sylus #sylus x reader #sylusmc #sylus x mc #sylus angst #sylus fluff #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #sylus qin #love and deepspace

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ekkothroughtime · 5 months ago

Text

staring problem | ekko x reader

Word Count: 2,000 Notes: Not particularly sexual, but MDNI, AFAB!Reader. Body (boob?) worship, tight-fitting clothing (no sizes mentioned), fluff, couch cuddling, the briefest food mention of all time. Ekko might have an oral fixation. The prompt for this warmup was literally just Ekko loving on your boobs, do with that what you will. No description of breast size.

Looking back on it, you absolutely knew what would happen when you squeezed into this tiny little black top.

In your defense, though, you had only been curious if it would even fit, pleasantly surprised to find that the soft material was designed to stretch and hug your frame like a second skin.

And it was just so warm that you couldn't bring yourself to peel it back off, not when the first wisps of winter are already twisting through the air. Niping at your nose, frosting the ground, and squeezing through the cracks in your front door, desperate to terrorize you and your already cold feet.

If anything, it's Ekko's fault for bringing it to you.

Some little thing he found while sorting through the new batch of clothes collected for the Firelights. But for someone so intelligent, he sure looks shocked the moment he looks up and sees you standing in the middle of the base.

You're pretending that you notice the way his eyes go wide, feigning ignorance, as you hang these new decorative lights. Using a hoverboard would have made this easier, wouldn't have had to reach so far overhead, but there's an ulterior motive here. Shamelessly twisting your body. Blissfully unaware of the familiar gaze that drinks in your frame, like a man who has just found a glass of water in the desert.

"Please be careful," Ekko's gloved hand presses into your lower back, and you don't need to look to know that the other is in front of you. Ready to catch you the moment you slip.

But try as he might, he can't keep his attention focused on what you're doing. Distracted by something that isn't your diligent hands, securing the string of lights to the wall.

Even after you've finished with them, and Scar calls Ekko over to come look at the engine they're repairing, you can't help but feel as if you're being stared at.

It's one thing to feel the other Firelights looking you over. With so many newcomers these days, all with varying estimations of how long it's socially acceptable to stare at someone, it's bound to happen, but this is different. The script has flipped.

For once, it's Ekko staring at you.

He thinks he's being subtle about it. Looking over his shoulder every time you walk past, going out of his way to ask you questions that he definitely knows the answer to. He's up on the balcony, head swiveling to keep up with you as you walk around the tree. Just so happens to think there's an issue with his hoverboard, one that requires him to fly past you half a dozen times.

You've got a fairly good idea of what could possibly have him so distracted, but it's only confirmed later in the afternoon when you're all huddled around for a meeting. It's another one of Scar's debates about capacity issues, and this time, it sounds like they're actually making progress on it, but...oh, what the hell. You're not listening.

You can't.

Not when Ekko is sitting eight feet across from you, hands clasped in front of his face, staring dead at your chest without the slightest hint of awareness of what he's doing. As if one quick glance won't reveal that he's more focused on the shape of your breasts than the overwhelming topic of where to put everyone. No bra to alter their shape into something modest, and with the way this shirt hugs every single inch...

You cross your arms, letting the motion squish your boobs into a new position.

Ekko's eyes dart up to your face. Caught red-handed.

"Ekko, you got any ideas?" Scar tilts his head, briefly looking toward you, then back to Ekko. Seems he caught on to what was happening a long time ago.

For once in his life, Ekko doesn't have a single clever suggestion to offer. A crucial mistake that keeps him at the meeting long after it ends; the capacity issue won't solve itself, and ideas don't grow on trees.

You're settled into the patchwork couch when Ekko finally pushes through the door. Face paint smeared across his forehead, some of it mysteriously staining his cheek, as if he's wiped his head with his hand and then rested his face in it. One of these days, he'll figure out how to get the consistency right with these new materials, but until then...

"Did the kids get you with a paintbrush again?" You giggle, aimlessly reaching out for him despite how far away he is.

Every muscle in his body seems to relax at the very sight of you, tension melting away like metal under one of his blowtorches. "I smeared it all over my face again, didn't I?" His voice has already lost its usual confidence, resigned to something much quieter.

Any other day, you would chide him for walking out of his shoes, leaving them scattered across the floor to be tripped over later, but you don't think he even has the energy to carry them over to their designated place by the door. All lazy smiles and half-lidded eyes, collapsing into you the moment he's deemed himself close enough.

"And here I thought I would have an easy day," Ekko grumbles right into your collar, groggy voice vibrating through your bones.

"An easy day for the leader of the Firelights?" You tease, running your hand up the back of his neck, nails tracing against his skin. "Never."

His whine cuts through the air, long and drawn out, as if being reminded of his status is the worst thing he could possibly hear right now.

"I'm sorry," laughing, you press a kiss to his forehead, where you're certain you'll get the least amount of paint on your lips.

All he has the strength to do is groan again, tilting his head until he's fully buried his face into your chest. Maybe if he snuggles close enough, nobody will be able to come ask for another favor that he'll inevitably say yes to.

"I should have never given you this shirt," Ekko still isn't lifting his head. Content to stay here with his face smashed into nondescript fabric for the rest of his life.

"What, you don't think it looks good on me?" Feigning hurt.

"It looks gorgeous on you," it comes out a little too fast. Seems he's been sitting on that thought for a while now. "That's the problem."

"I can tell," you have to momentarily pause with that thought, preoccupied with sorting his hair back into place. "You spent half of the afternoon and the entirety of the meeting staring at my chest. I'm shocked Scar didn't call you out on it."

"Oh, he's never gonna let me live it down," Ekko's tired chuckle is the prettiest thing you've heard all day. You can only imagine what went on the moment you left.

But one can only lie next to one's favorite temptation for so long. It's only a matter of minutes before he begins to wander, using the tip of his nose as a guide, wandering across your chest until he brushes over the soft swell of your breast.

A vague, warm pressure greets you. There and gone in a matter of milliseconds, leaving behind a coolness that wasn't there before.

And he does it again, a little bit slower this time. Easier for you to catch. The swift dart of his tongue, wetting the material of your shirt, and maybe he's misplaced his concepts of shame because there's no trace of it to be found today. Content to mouth over your breast, no real end goal to be found. Doing it just for the hell of it.

"What could you possibly be doing?"

No answer.

You're making no move to stop him. It's comparable to a feather-light massage, diligently working over you, leaving no space unattended to. He'd make this his full-time job if circumstances would allow it.

The left half of your shirt is almost entirely damp, your nipple gradually hardening from the cold, poking through the fabric, only to be greeted with his burning mouth. Tongue flicking over it, the faintest pressure of his teeth sending it off.

But the right side can only be neglected for so long, stealing his attention away from your left. Marking it in much of the same way while his hand rises to cover the wet mess he's made of you, warding off the chill before it can grow uncomfortable.

"How long." Kiss. "Will you." Kiss. "Let me do this for?"

You trace the outline of his jaw with the tips of your fingers, humming. "I haven't thought that far yet."

Forever, or until you can't stand it anymore. Whichever comes first.

Enabling him is the worst thing you can do in this situation. You've only got so much time before the dinner bell rings. Even less to change shirts and scurry across the hideout before everything grows cold, but you just can't bring yourself to deny him...whatever this is.

Even if you did want to, it's so hard to find your voice when he peeks up at you. Gentle brown eyes peering through thick lashes, drinking in your expression as he mouths at your breast, drool spilling off his tongue like you're the best thing he's ever tasted.

His hand appears at the hem of your shirt, pushing it upward. Past your belly and over the stunning swell of your chest, and fuck, those eyes sparkle at the sight that greets him.

That mouth of his wobbles. Opening and closing, visibly searching for words that he doesn't have the capacity to conjure up right now. Doesn't find them until after he's pressed a kiss into the underside of your boob. "Has anyone ever told you that you're breathtaking?"

"You," deadpanning. "Every day since the day I met you."

Ekko looks away from you, suddenly very, very interested in the stitching of the couch. As if he's ever cared about the odd green square that covers up the burn mark one of his inventions left behind.

It's remarkably easy to slip your hand beneath his chin, delicately turning him back to look at you. His eyes are a tad reluctant to meet with yours, still bracing for the impact of you expressing some kind of irritation with him that has never, ever been there.

"And I love every second of it." Whispering. A secret meant solely for the two of you to share.

Oh, he just lights up at the sound of that. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

He's still just as slow as he was the first time. Diligently kissing at your soft skin, loving on every little inch. Hot, wet tongue tracing shapes and his fingers smearing the saliva left behind. The other hand works carefully at the side he's not playing with yet, massaging loose circles into it. His callouses are just the right amount of friction, enough to create a slight drag that you can't possibly ignore.

"And you don't mind me doin' this?" He shouldn't be talking with his lips half wrapped around your nipple, but ugh, the vibration of his voice...

You're not sure when your hand made its way to the back of his neck, but its there, stroking up and down in a manner that always makes him melt. "I would have told you if it bothered me."

If you had known that something as simple as a new, form-fitting shirt would have ended in this, you would have invested in one sooner. Scratch that, an entire clothing business. Maybe you can find a shirt that'll fit him, too. Give yourself an excuse to kiss and suck on those lovely, bulging biceps that you so often find yourself staring at.

A yawn takes over his handsome face. Contagious. Passing on to you like a bad cold. And just like that, it wanders back to him, running its course through him one, two, three more times until his eyes have watered to the point of tears streaming down his cheeks.

Your thumb swipes out, stroking them away and smearing even more of the paint across his face. Oops. "You still have time for a nap if that's what you need."

"Here?" There's that glint in his eye again. Hopeful.

The bed would be so much more comfortable, but... "I don't see why not."

And as he helps to pull your shirt back down and snuggles down into his favorite spot on your chest, you can't help but get the feeling that you've unintentionally created his new favorite thing to do with you.

...not that you're complaining.

#help this was supposed to be a 500 word warmup and somehow it quadrupled in size??#ekko x reader #ekko x you #ekko smut #ekkothroughtime writes #ekko

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rafey-baby · 6 months ago

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what would sensitive!reader do without older!rafe protecting her from the invisible monsters in their home?

18+ mdni!

c/w: mostly fluff, her being scared & rafe comforting her while also being a menace, teeny tiny bit of angst regarding their age gap, use of daddy (once)

wc: 1.7k

unfortunately won’t be watching a single scary movie this halloween cause she’s literally me but happy kinktober & spooky season xx

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She’s not exactly sure why she agreed to watch the new horror film Rafe’s friends wanted to see at a Halloween themed gathering he’d dragged her into. She wasn’t even the biggest fan of his friends, which is why she didn’t want to go in the first place.

However, when he’d mumbled a honeyed ‘it’s no fun without you ‘n don’t wanna leave my girl alone on Halloween’ into her hair, she’d reluctantly agreed; not one to refuse him of anything when he looked at her with that specific softened blue coloring his eyes.

And there was also the prospect of making him happy that finally made her melt into his wishes.

And she wanted to like his friends, she really did. But it wasn’t exactly easy when they kept bragging about their accomplishments and how much money they had every opportunity they found in such an arrogant tone, it made her roll her eyes when they weren’t looking.

Luckily, she could at least converse with their partners who were always fun company to sip wine with and giggle about anything and everything. And along with the warmth of Rafe’s gaze flickering over to her every once in a while, as he talked with his friends and coworkers, she was actually beginning to enjoy herself.

Up until the point when someone suggested they watch a movie.

“You sure you wanna watch this? S’okay if you wanna go home, could come up with somethin’ else to keep us entertained…” Rafe had murmured into her ear with his arms around her on the couch the whole group had settled down on.

He knew how paranoid she could get; how easily she’d turn into a scaredy cat who once couldn’t sleep alone for a month after sitting through an entire scary movie in the cinema.

And she truly doesn’t know why she didn’t just tell him she wanted to leave when the film started playing on the big screen of Topper’s television. She was going to, but when her eyes flitted over to him bringing a glass of whiskey to his lips in a carefree manner; she didn’t have the heart to ruin his fun because he seemed to be enjoying himself. After all, it wasn’t often he let himself relax due to his hectic work schedule packed with tedious meetings and whatnot.

And on top of that, she’s already self-conscious over the age-gap between her and Rafe; sometimes gets a headache over the notion of him meeting someone more mature one dreadful day and deciding he doesn’t want to play house with her any longer.

After all, his friends were all getting engaged left and right, while she still holds the title of being his girlfriend. And even if she isn’t sure she’d be ready for marriage quite yet, she’s still slightly upset that he’s never even so much as mentioned the matter.

And she's not sure if it's because she's younger than him and he assumes she doesn't want a ring on her finger too soon or if he simply just doesn't want to make things too definitive with her.

Nonetheless, it's something she's been thoroughly overthinking and mulling over recently, even if she knows it doesn't benefit her in any shape or form. Apparently, her mind just likes to always have some topic to ruminate over and obsessively worry about, or else it'll have too much free time.

Therefore, she can admit that she didn’t want to appear as a big baby who couldn’t stomach anything even remotely scary (she really couldn’t). And was it such a crime to not want to make a scene in front of all his friends?

That’s why she ends up meekly nodding her head and assuring him she was fine — which he didn’t entirely believe — but smiled nonetheless at the fact that she was willing to get out of her comfort zone for his sake, before pulling her closer to his side.

However, when the white letters of the end credits finally rolled after a few gruesome and eerie hours later, she was anything but fine.

Her weakened frame is trembling and she’s entirely too jumpy even after they’ve said their goodbyes and stepped past the threshold into the safe haven of their home.

“Told you we should’ve just left,” he tuts when she flinches when the October wind rustles the leafy foliage outside the window.

“Rafe, what was that?” she squeaks out when she hears another sound coming from outside — presumably their neighbor — however, there’s always the possibility of it being a serial killer simply waiting for the right moment to pounce.

“What was what?” he huffs out a chuckle in amusement, causing her to pout.

“This isn’t funny. I’m scared,” she whines, heart beating faster than ever along with her breathing unsteady.

“I know you are. Shit, forgot why I don’t let you watch scary movies,” he shakes his head, padding over to the kitchen to fill up a glass of water; her feet immediately running after him.

“Hey, hey, m’right here, yeah?” he laughs tenderly when she practically glues herself to his big and comforting arm with how tightly she’s hugging it against her chest.

“Promise you’re not gonna leave me alone?” she blinks up at him with her pupils dilated, nervous.

“It’s past midnight. Of course, m’not leaving, m’exhausted. Let’s get ready for bed, yeah?” he suggests calmly, managing to placate her some with his appeasing presence. Although the spine-chilling scenes still play behind her eyelids with every blink.

She follows him to the bathroom and he tries not to laugh when she insists on staying there even while he’s peeing.

“Want me to check under the bed for monsters?” his sickly-sweet tone is a stark contrast to the annoying smirk plastered on his face when they pad over to their bedroom after brushing their teeth.

“Ray…I’m being serious,” she scowls.

“So am I?” he feigns confusion with a furrow of his brows.

Before she has the chance to complain about him being mean, he’s already crouching down on the floor and poking his head under the bed into the darkness he’s braved himself to submerge into. And she’s far too curious not to peer down as well, however, she can’t really see a thing from behind his broad shoulders.

Suddenly, he lets out a loud gasp — making her jump back and nearly trip on her feet — before his breathy giggle follows soon after.

“That’s not funny,” she grumbles as exasperation drags her lips downwards.

“I’m sorry, baby. You jus’ make it so easy,” he approaches her with an apologetic expression that doesn’t come off as all that empathetic when he’s fighting off an amused grin the entire time.

“C’mere, yeah?” he coaxes before tugging her into his strong arms; not letting go even when she tries to pull away since she’s still mad at him.

“This one really got to you, huh?” he murmurs into her hair before beginning to soothingly rock back and forth when she finally halts her pursuits of escape.

A faint hum is the only response she grants him.

“Think the last time you were this scared was when we went to that haunted house with your friends last year, remember?” his warm chest rumbles in a pacifying manner in tandem with his words.

“How could I forget,” she huffs out.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t wanna watch it? I wouldn’t have cared if we left,” he speaks softly.

“I don’t know…just didn’t wanna seem like a baby in front of your friends,” she sniffles.

“Since when do you care what they think? You hate them,” he argues with a lopsided smile when he releases his hold on her in order to unzip his jeans and change into something more comfortable for the night.

“Hate is a strong word,” she defends herself as she pulls one of Rafe’s old t-shirts over her head and tries to focus on his familiar scent still lingering on the worn-out fabric instead of the imaginary monsters lurking behind the windows.

“Is it?” he graces her with a lighthearted narrow of his eyes.

“Fine. I don’t like them but they’re your friends, which means that I want them to like me,” she mumbles out.

“Don’t really give a shit if they like you or not, which they obviously do. Think a little too much since you can’t help but be the sweetest angel even to the people you hate,” he grumbles out as he walks over to close the bedroom door.

“And honestly, would much rather just stay with you than those pretentious idiots. Next time you wanna go home, just tell me. Don’t want you lyin’ to me, okay?” he says with something sincere sparkling in the lagoons of his eyes.

“Okay,” she promises when suddenly, he switches the lights off with a click, causing her muscles to tense.

“Ray, why would you do that?” she sounds alarmed; inhales and exhales growing labored because the bedroom is now pitch black and there could be anything hiding in the murky corners of the room since she can’t even see herself.

“Shh, calm down. I’ll protect you, yeah?” he croons, before he’s guiding her under the covers with a big hand on the small of her back; following shortly behind her and tugging her flush against his steady chest.

“You’re safe with me. Daddy’s not gonna let anything happen to you, alright?” his saccharine murmurs reach her racing mind and offer it momentary rest on the soft petals of his tranquil voice.

She hums against the skin of his neck as her eyes begin to slowly adjust to the darkness surrounding them; the dingy shadows crawling along the walls appearing less and less threatening by the second when she’s in the warmth of his protective embrace.

“Want your stuffie?” he asks, knowing her all too well.

“Mhm,” she nods against him before he’s reaching a hand behind the pillows because somehow her stuffed animal always manages to end up in the most peculiar of places. At this point though, he already knows where to look since he’s usually the one who has to locate it for her.

Nowadays, she doesn’t need it too often since she has Rafe volunteering to be her own personal teddy bear, but whenever he’s working past midnight, she likes to hold onto something that brings her comfort because she isn’t particularly fond of the idea of sleeping alone.

He soon offers her the plushy lamb and she gives him a grateful smooch against his cheek along with a muffled ‘I love you’.

And that night, he lulls her into dreamland with a warm palm resting on her tummy and his mellow breathing placating her distraught mind.

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xxsabitoxx · 2 years ago

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How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Itadori, Megumi

Warnings: All characters are 18+, this post is explicit smut. As if you couldn’t tell that from the title

A/N: Funny story, I forgot I already wrote this same concept last year… but since I didn’t realize until I finished writing this… imma post it anyways. But if you’d like to see my original thoughts on this topic, you can see them here with an additional 2 characters lol

Gojo Satoru

He is relentless, especially when he’s in the mood to go down on you. These little moods of his will have him between your legs for hours, multiple times a day. You always like to joke that he knows when you’re ovulating because somehow these little moods seem to fall in sync. If Satoru goes more than three days without you, it’s like he’s going through withdrawals. He’s skilled with his tongue, he’s able to move it in ways and speeds you didn’t know a man could. Typically he’s a tease, he’ll edge you until you have an orgasm so pathetic you can’t even call it one. Ya know, the kinds where you come and don’t feel that satisfaction, just the pulsating ache of needing more. But recently, Satoru discovered how much more fun it is to overstimulate you. He loves the way your finger’s bury in his hair and try to tug him off as he sucks on your clit until you’re sobbing and begging him to ease up. He’ll keep your thighs spread wide, large hands effortlessly keeping them in place while they desperately try and close. He’s also the type to see those “pineapple make’s your cum sweet” articles and come home with enough pineapples to feed a village. He’s not even embarrassed about his reasoning, even if it’s just a myth, his sweet tooth can’t pass up the opportunity. Satoru loves your natural taste, but you surprised him with edible lubes in various fruity and sweet flavors one night… you still recall seeing the sun rise.

Geto Suguru

He’s a god at eating pussy and you can’t convince me otherwise. Suguru has always been about your pleasure over his, not to say he doesn’t have his selfish moments, but your pleasure is just so much fun to him. He loves the noise, the facial expressions, the smell, the taste. The first time he went down on you, you were convinced he was lying about it being his first time. The ability just came naturally to Suguru. Like Satoru, Suguru loves to tease you. He’ll focus all of his attention on your dripping entrance, only stimulating your clit if his nose bumps it. He loves the way you squirm, his nails leaving crescent shaped nail marks in the plump flesh of your thighs as he holds you in place. He loves your breathless gasps, his long hair tickling your thighs as he eats you out, only adding to the stimulation that’s making your toes curl. Suguru loves to make you beg, pulling his mouth away from your cunt to just barely flick his tongue over your clit. He’ll stop all together just to taunt you until you’re sobbing, begging him to do something. He has a whole album on his phone dedicated to you, most of the content being videos of him eating you out, some he even made you take just so he could see the camera shake with your effort to keep it straight and hear your noises better. He puts on a show for you, slurping and sucking and moaning just to feel your thighs tremble as you moan with him.

Nanami Kento

Eating you out is a stress reliever for Nanami… so it happens like very fucking day. Lord help me this man will spend hours edging you, cheek pressed into your thigh as he lazily licks and nips at your cunt. He can’t think about anything but you when he is between our legs, moaning and whining his name like a beautiful lullaby. He’ll let you cum eventually, but for the time being you are completely at his mercy. Nanami is the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, especially on nights where he comes home late and you’re already passed out in bed. He’ll make out with your cunt honestly, licking and sucking and nipping at your folds until he can’t tell if you’re wet from his saliva or your own arousal. The answer is both. He doesn’t care for any of the fancy shit, so don’t bother with flavored lubes or eating particular fruits to try and alter your taste, he just wants you and you alone. I feel like this man has a scent kink so the smell of your arousal honestly gets him going even more. He prefers eating you out in bed, mostly because he’s tired and nothing feels better to him than laying on his plush mattress while using your thighs as his pillow. He’s a whore for face sitting by the way, even less of his energy needs to be put into that, especially when you’re grinding your cunt against his tongue. Nanami’s other favorite thing to do is use his tie to bind your wrists, that way you really can’t interrupt him.

Fushiguro Toji

I had to restart Toji’s so many times because I got too aggressive. Listen, this bummy ass bitch will eat you out till the sunrises and he will make a fucking mess of you while he does it. Toji will eat you out and finger fuck you until you’re screaming. He’ll give you a “break” by stuffing you full with his dick and then get back to work eating you out again after he blew his load in you. Filthy bitch. He’ll eat you out anytime, anywhere, any position. He’ll never turn down the opportunity and depending on your relationship with him, this bitch may even charge you for his services. Which is just another way he likes to tease you, watching you whine and squirm while you cough up the money he wants. He’ll call you pathetic as he gets on his knees and basically rips your underwear off of you, commenting the whole time about how much of a whore you are… like he ain’t selling his body to you rn. This man will somehow make you feel inferior, but you can’t be bothered when his tongue is lapping at your cunt like a starved man. Toji will make sure your thighs and your cunt are swollen, bruised, overstimulated, and sore by the time he’s done with you. Your cunt is puffy from his sucking and biting, thighs littered in dark marks and teeth indents. He'd go as far as to find a marker and write “cum dumpster” on you if he was really in the mood to see you sob.

Ryomen Sukuna

Listen, you thought Toji could be mean? Sukuna is ten times worse. The thing is, the king of curses actually likes to eat pussy but he won’t admit it. But that is not to say he can’t live without it, Sukuna is selfish and really only prefers things that pleasure him in the process. But, when you’re sobbing, pathetically begging him to go down on you, he may just crack. Especially if you’re looking at him with watery eyes, swollen lips from sucking him off, your neck littered with bite marks and bruises. Oh, and, if you’ve made him cum, he’s more likely to agree and indulge you. If you manage to convince the king of curses to go down on you, don’t expect him to be easy on you. His nails are digging into the flesh of your thighs, blood dripping slowly as he eats you out with so much force it’s borderline painful. He’s using his tongue and his teeth, nipping at your folds and even grazing your clit with them until he can tell your sobs are a breathless mix of pleasure and pain. If we’re talking true form Sukuna, I promise you he won’t stop until you’ve blacked out. He’ll use one set of arms to hold your waist while the other set keeps your thighs spread. He’s forcefully dragging your cunt over the long tongue that protrudes from his stomach, occasionally stopping just to hold you still as he spreads you open and stuffs you with the same tongue, watching you yelp and moan as he toys with you.

Okkotsu Yuta

If you look up the definition of “pussy drunk” you’ll see a picture of Yuta. This man cannot go down on you without becoming delirious. Your body puts him in a trance, he can’t even explain the way you make him feel. Yuta is all about body worship and his favorite way to go about it is having his face shoved between your legs for hours. He’s just as vocal as you are while he eats you out, groaning and whining against your cunt until the vibrations are making your eyes roll back as you cum again. He’ll be kneading your thighs as he eats, squeezing them like stress balls and hitting nerves that send sparks of electricity all the way to your toes and all the way up to the base of your neck. Without even trying, Yuta will manage to overstimulate you until you’re unironically going cross-eyed, fingers twitching as they bury in his hair and try to pull him off so you can catch your breath. Yuta is still a bit shy when it comes to being intimate outside of the privacy of your home. But that doesn’t mean he won’t drag you into the nearest bathroom and eat you out against the bathroom stall. In this sense, he’s almost cocky when someone unknowingly enters the bathroom only to see two sets of feet in one of the stalls. Not to mention the noises are echoing. Yuta lives to see your eyes going wide from embarrassment as he doesn’t stop, your noises are uncontrollable as he tongue fucks you. The poor bastard who entered the bathroom with the intention of properly using it just muttered under their breath and walked out.

Itadori Yuji

Yuji is eager, so, so damn eager. He wants to do anything and everything that brings you pleasure so when it comes to eating you out, he’s determined to be great at it. Yuji is the type to ask you for “practice” or “lessons” which is just his way of indirectly asking if he can eat you out. Most of the time, it’s an offer you can’t refuse, because as fate would have it, Yuji isn’t bad at anything. He’s so praise focused, eyes glued to your face as he flicks his tongue along your folds and waits for you to tell him he’s doing good. He’ll slow down when your praise isn’t coming fast enough because he wants you to beg. Yuji is a sucker for adding fingers to the mix, as much as he loves making you cum with just his tongue, he sees no point in limiting your pleasure for his own confidence boost. Kind of contradictory since he likes when you beg. Yuji is also the type to wake you up with his head between your legs, just slowly lapping at your cunt while also rutting his hips into the mattress, trying to not wake you up until you’re coming. He finds it so pretty when you wake up gasping, completely unable to restrict any of your noises as you orgasm. It’s important to mention that Yuji is a sucker for 69-ing and face sitting, he loves, loves, feeling your plush thighs caging in his head. He can’t get enough of the way your body settles so nicely into him, no longer afraid of “suffocating him” by sitting all the way down on him.

Fushiguro Megumi

He won’t admit it but he loves to eat you out. Megumi is shy at heart so even if he’s been with you for years, he can still get embarrassed when telling you how badly he wants to go down on you. He’s focused when he does get between your legs, hands gripping your thighs or hips while his tongue laps greedily at your cunt. Megumi loves to tongue fuck you, just because he knows it’s not enough stimulation to make you cum but enough to make you embarrassingly wet. He’s a bit mean at first, not willing to let you come until he feels you’ve earned it. He’ll stop abruptly just to sink his teeth into your inner thighs, not stopping until you’re gasping as the pain turns bruising. He’ll admire the teeth indents he’s left on your skin while his nails are scratching down your other thigh, tongue moving to wiggle against your clit until your hips are bucking. Megumi finds toys to be very hit or miss, but he’s found a love for stuffing you with a vibrator while putting all of his attention on your clit. Megumi’s preferred method of “torture” depends on his mood, either he’ll edge you until you’re begging or overstimulate you until you’re crying. He’s very private when it comes to these things… unless he’s jealous. Much like Yuta, he will not hesitate to drag you somewhere private while out in public to remind you of who you belong to.

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moechies · 7 months ago

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kinktober ⋆౨ৎ entry #3 ; throat training w nanami kento .ᐟ

dear diary ♡,

last night, i gave kento a blowjob / head ! it was terrible, though, and i’m surprised he didn’t hate it! it was my first time — i was spluttering all over the place and messed up his pants >< so embarrassing! i’m embarrassed to even reminisce back to the scene! i dunno . . i think, maybe he liked it because he kept groaning (?) and i swear it was growing harder and harder in my mouth each time i choked. i heard that guys like those things . . at the mention of choking — his cock was hitting the back of my throat so much and making me teary! because he didn’t let me touch or wipe my face, i bet i looked so stupid with teary eyes and a big cock in my mouth (T_T) even though it’s all terribly embarrassing, i can’t help but want to do it again . .

“kenny, d’you still like me?” you quip, joking half-heartedly. you sink into the couch besides him, tossing your leg over his. he lets out a soft grunt, tugging your body closer and onto his — falling pliant against his warmth.

“why do you ask, honey? of course i do.” he speaks, purring against his chest. “how’s your throat?”

you huff, nuzzling closer into his chest and taking a longed whiff of scent. fuck. “kenny . . i wanna do it again.”

“what is it you want to do again, doll?” he questions, his fingers twirling into the soft strands of your hair.

“wan—wanna suck your dick again.” you whine, pressing your chin onto his chest and looking up at him. he’s already peering down at you, admiring the soft shimmer of need and want in your eyes. “please . .”

“hmm . . no can do doll.” he hums, grinning at your dedication. his hand leaves your hair, coming to softly wrap around your throat. you let out a soft, pained squeak, the ache in your throat prominent. “see? you’re still hurting here.”

“‘s only a bit . .” you whine hoarsely as his hand snakes to the back of your neck, tugging you close to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. “making you feel g—good is more important.”

“that’s not true. your health is most important, sweet girl.” he speaks sternly, laying against the cushion and taking you down with him. you can feel the chub of his cock beginning to stiffen, prodding against your tummy where you lay against him. your innocent demeanor and soft tone don’t fit the conversation’s topic — maybe that’s what’s making him so fucking hard.

you giggle, tracing a finger down his chest, feeling his heaves grow manual. “kento, can feel you gettin’ hard below me.” you purr, tugging yourself higher up onto his body by his neck. you wrap your arms tightly around his strong neck, as tight as it permits with his huge collarbones. you nuzzle against his cheek, pressing an abundance of kisses onto his freshly shaven face. “let me, jus’ teach me, i know you want to.”

he growls when you paw at his bulge, bucking his hips into your hand as his way of approval. you giggle — he’s too easy. but how could he say no to those gorgeous begging orbs and your soft squeaks of his name? darling — he is a strong man but . . not that strong.

nanami flips you under him, arms caged around your body as he hovers over you. he stands tall, eyes never leaving your face as his hand drags across his clothes bulge, making the shape prominent through his sweats. “come here.” he commands, and you reach your arms forward, crawling towards him on fours like an obedient puppy.

you paw at the waistband of his pants and he lets you — lets you tug down on the loose fabric to reveal his now thinly clothed cock solely covered by his cotton briefs. you feel yourself damn near salvitate at the sight before you, easily able to locate his bridged tip that lays clad against his right thigh. “how does your throat feel?”

“‘s alright kento . .” you mumble with no regards for your throat, eyes zeroed in on the fat tip of his cock you need to suck on.

“hey. do you remember what i taught you yesterday?” he chuckles, fingers tapping on your hot cheek to bring you back to reality. your eyes flutter back into his face, giving him a soft nod before leaning into the apple of his palm. his hand moves from where it once laid against your cheek to the bottom of your jaw, pulling you forward and mere inches away from his shaft. he uses a thumb to tug down at the band of his briefs, teasing his fat, blushed tip right in your face. you whine, pacing back and forth from his face to his cock for a green light — and he gives you a nod.

you give his damp slit a soft, shaky peck, growing goosebumps across the back of your arms and across your back when you hear him chuckle. you’re nervous and he can tell — but he won’t make you a fool. his hand still cups your jaw gently, thumb trailing to press at your puffy lower lip as a way to signal — stick out your tongue.

and of course you do — pink tongue sticking out before giving his slit an experimental lick, laying the hot muscle fully across his leaking hole. he groans at the warmth and velvet touch, and you feel him twitch below your tongue. it doesn’t take long for your confidence to boast, enveloping his fat cock head with your soft, chubby lips.

kento sighs, his right leg stepping up on the cushioned couch where you’re sprawled. he tugs the remainder of his briefs below his plump balls, giving you the full view of his swollen, flushed shaft before you. it’s intimidating of course — but, you can do it. you’re sure you can.

with confidence soaring through your body, and a low groan to boost so, you take him further into your mouth, slobbering over the first few inches of his shaft. you moan at the stiff being in your mouth, running your tongue on the underside of his top before swirling it over. “fuck.”

nanami quickly bucks his hips, mumbling quiet apologies when he hears you squeak from the sudden movement. you peer up at him, his disheveled hair and heavy pants paired with lidded eyes tell you something he doesn’t need to express verbally.

“are you ready to take more?” he asks all sultry, as if he was offering you a sweet treat. in a sense, he was.

you nod gently, sure to keep your teeth away from the shaft. it’s sensitive here, try to keep your teeth tucked in, and don’t bite down no matter how much it hurts.

you flashback to the night before, cunt quivering at the reminder. his hands grip a tad tighter at your jaw, pressing himself into your mouth further than you had expected — his cock slides to the left side of your cheek. he moans wantonly, gently thrusting at the soft walls of your mouth.

you look great like this.

he readjusts himself, pulling himself out before pressing himself deep into the depths of your mouth as you permit it to — finally hitting the rim of your throat. he gives it an experimental thrust, and low and behold comes what you have dreaded most ; you gag.

you look up to him with watery eyes, swollen lips pulling away from his shaft with his cock still lodged deep in your mouth. you splutter — coughing lowly at the intrusion.

“see? you’re still much too inexperienced to take it.” he chuckles, giving your throat another gentle squeeze. to his entertainment, it makes you gag again, the rim of your throat tightening and he feels it all.

your brows furrow, and you sniffle gently, desperate to reach to wipe away the forming tears. without remorse, nanamin’s hips press forward, bulging at your resisting throat. “open up.” he groans, a hand coming to swipe away your hairs.

you do — you try — loosening your jaw and throat like he taught you the night before. his chubby tip lodges deep into your throat at the intial loosening, and you gag harshly around him. “calm down darling,” he coos, thumb coming up to wipe at your damp cheeks and nuzzle your face in a comforting sense. he thrusts slowly, careful not to trigger another gag. your sniffles are staggered, eyes shut tight, “nice and slow . . .” he drags out, nearly stuffing the remainder of himself down your swollen throat. the ache in your throat is growing more prominent, as is the ache in your sore cunt. it aches everywhere, and you need kento to satiate it.

"you're making me so proud, darling." nanami's leg steps forward, closing the distance between your mouth and the base of his cock. you sigh internally, body shivering when you feel his dewy balls against your chin, the damp sweat making it so that his ball sack sticks to you. you bravely press yourself deeper into him, another low gag is elicited but it doesn't stop you from nuzzling against his manhood, taking a longed whiff of his honey-blonded bush. the rough patch of hair rubs against your nose, making you moan. you look up to him again, eyes lidded and lashes fluttering incessantly — god, you drive him crazy. he looks away — he has to, or he might just cum deep in that warm throat of yours and disappoint you, darling.

his hand readjusts, the one once gripping your jaw comes up to tug at your hair once you’ve adjusted to him. “baby listens to her daddy so well, doesn’t she?” your heart flutters at the mention of your favorite nickname for him — his eyes meeting yours expectingly. you nod with your eyes, pupils slowly dilating into hearts. “doing such a great job warming and sucking daddy’s cock.”

he tugs you back by your hair, watching strings of spit drag across his shaft from your warming mouth. nanami gradually increases the pace of his fucking, his tug on your hair growing a bit stronger, hips moving harsher. your eyes shut tight to prepare yourself for a proper fucking, pacing yourself to acclimate to his well-earned blowjob after these training sessions. “daddy’ll make sure you feel so good after this, okay? just let me use my sweet baby’s throat right now, just for a bit.” he groans, shooting you a soft smile before you feel a harsh pump to the back of your throat — a short spurt of cum dribbling straight down your throat.

oh — you’re in for a long night.

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