#or just stare at you until you get the hint and move

[sukunasluvrr]

Nerd Gojo who was an absolute simp for you. The poor man so badly wanted to get his hands on you in some way, but he knew he wouldn’t have a chance. You were way out of his league. You, the popular girl who hung around people like Sukuna and Kenjaku and were always present in frat parties. Often ending up with a pillow between his legs and humping the poor fabric like a desperate dog while whimpering your name over and over again, leaving the sheet soiled with his sticky sperm and a hint of shame in his actions, how did he end up this down bad for you?? Nobody knew.

He’d often help you out with your studies and tests, often doing them for you after you bat your lashes prettily at him and asked him real nicely. It really didn’t take much to convince him, looking at you with puppy eyes and his glasses that sat so adorably on the bridge of his nose as he nods and mutters „of course..“ under his breath. But he couldn’t take it anymore, one day while you were in his dorm, him helping you with a project- he couldn’t help himself. He was already half hard because of your tits being in his sight and the smell of your perfume that invaded his senses. Looking at you with his usual puppy like stare as he took all the courage he had. “Can you… stay the night?” He asked almost in a hushed tone. You had to look twice to make sure you weren’t imagining this,

“You want me to stay the night?” You asked him, to make sure you didn’t just hear it wrong, but to your surprise, he nodded without hesitation, hands moving to your hips as he got onto his knees- actually begging for you

“Please… just give me this one night… I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, this night and the rest of our semesters… but I’m begging you, I just wanna feel you for once…“

He was so desperate… it was almost cute. And his offer was quite tempting, so you agreed and he practically grinned in excitement. Already pulling you to the bed and kissing over your skin in soft pecks, being so gentle with it, like you could break if he went to hard and rough on you. His hands big enough to cup both your breasts through your top as he started kneading the soft subtle flesh, small whimpers leaving him from the feeling as he made you lay back on his bed, straddling your hips and grinding lightly against you, feeling the imprint of his length pressing against you. He already felt big through the fabric and the man wasn’t even fully hard yet!! He was still gentle with you, constantly asking if you really want this to which you nodded and he kept going. Removing his glasses and putting them on the nightstand as he started undressing you, lips pressing against your neck. Getting your top and bra off with practiced ease, without even wasting another second his lips were kissing around your breasts, kissing the underside of one while the other was being teased by his hand, thumb circling around your nippe and lightly pinching it while his mouth worked on coating the other in his spit, tongue circling around it and softly sucking on it like he was worshipping your chest. Earning small sounds from your lips and your hand moving into his hair while he kept this up for a few minutes until you remembered his offer, softly pulling him off your chest

„You said you’ll let me do anything, right?“ your voice a little shaky and breathy from arousal, „and I wanna ride you, pretty“ and god you could see the wheels turning in his head as he made sense of your words. Hearts practically forming in his eyes as he nods eagerly, already sitting up to remove his clothes with shaky hands

„Yes!! Yes yes yes, anything for you“ the moment his clothes were off and he was left in his boxers with a obvious tent standing out, his hands were already on you again, your words seeming to having made him only 10 times more desperate and harder for you, pulling at your sweatpants to get them off of you and pulling you on top of him, eyebrows furrowed in a pathetic way and puppy eyes looking up at you

„do whatever you want to me… spit on me, use me like a stupid toy, I just want you… I need you“

His words so desperate and full of emotion as his hips started bucking up into yours, moaning at the stimulation to his sensitive clothed cock. Your hands finding way to to his chest for stability as you tried to get him to calm down, not even having gotten your panties off yet and the slick was smearing over your pussy lips almost uncomfortably

„ 'toru… calm down for a second, I’m not going anywhere“

You tried to reason with him, but your words went to blank ears while he kept grinding up against you, hands already starting to pull his boxers down and fingers pulling at the strings of your panties to get the flimsy fabric off your skin and get access to your sweet pussy, accidentally ripping the fabric and pulling it off, the moment he made eye contact with your glistened cunt he felt like he was in a dream, his movements stopping for once and hands parting your thighs a little more and pulling your closer to his hard and proud standing dick. Making you gasp for a second as you saw it, already knowing that the stretch would probably make your poor pussy remember him for the next few weeks. He of course noticed your stare, and he thought you were disappointed

„it’s not really that big… sorry to disa-„ the poor guy couldn’t even finish his words before you interrupted him

„NO! No, oh my god, you’re probably the biggest I’ve ever had“

And you could’ve sworn you saw a light twitch in his dick when he heard your words, a soft hint of red tinting his pale cheeks, watching as your hand moves around his cock to give a few pumps to it, watching and listening for his reactions while he gave the prettiest whimpers from himself, hips bucking into your hand for more, before he could get a word out, he watched you let a globe of spit drop onto his tip, making his lower stomach cave in a little from the sensation on his sensitive dick. Already starting to beg for more, eyes half lidded while he watched you tease his poor, already angry looking tip. Your hand smearing the salvia over his cock to lube him up a bit before you moved, hovering a little over him with your knees pressed into the mattress and your entrance teasing his tip, letting it slip in and out faintly but never truly sinking down on him, making him almost cry while he endured the sweet torture of your pussy. The feel of your slick hole against his sticky tip almost too much to bear, having spend weeks if not months imagining how it would feel while fisting his dick to the thought of you almost pathetically at night. And now he was so so close to getting what he wanted, to feeling the slick warm walls of your heat around his throbbing length. It took some encouragement to actually have you sink down on him, the stretch mean and making you hiss a little, earning a small look of concern from him, his hands moving to your hips and rubbing soft circles into your skin in an attempt to soothe you while you got used to the size of him inside of you. The moment you started moving your hips against him, he felt like he ascended to heaven. A small groan leaving him and head titling back into the pillows to focus on your hips working to bounce along his dick, not able to keep his own from thrusting up into you from below- weakly at first but picking up in pace and firmness the faster you got. His eyes fixated on your face to look at every crunch of your nose, brows and the part of your lips whole moans left your mouth, his moans and groans being heard along yours, as well as the undeniable sound of skin against skin and the soft squelches of your cunt working on his dick to milk his cum from him. His fingers still digging into your hips but not moving them to bring you out of rhythm. Each stroke of your warm cunt around his dick had his mouth gaping and slutty sounds escaping from it. Your slick already trickling down his length and coating his balls, surely leaving a mess on the sheets but neither of you cared when you were riding him so good. Trying to keep his eyes on you and watching your tits bounce, unable to resist but move his hands to cup the soft flesh and knead gently

„you’re so pretty sweetheart…“ he muttered under his breath, his voice sounding somewhat shaky along with his whines and moans of pleasure

„don’t wanna be without your pussy ever again… ngh- fuck…. Keep going“

It was embarrassing to say he got close already, having been hard ever since you were with him and being so needy for you he couldn’t control himself, a pathetic whine leaving and eyebrows furrowing as his eyes closed „mhhff…. I’m gonna cum…“ his words were barely heard by you, wing lost in your own world and almost in a trance while using his dick to get yourself off, but you weren’t gonna be cruel… how could you be cruel to the sweet, nerd guy, who collected comics and who actually knew something about female anatomy???

„Go on Baby… cum for me“ giving him the go ahead because you were close yourself. Working the both of you to the edge at the same time, moaning your name as he came with a thrust up into your cunt, hands pulling you down by your hips to keep your warm walls around his dick, feeling your inner walls throb around his spent cock while you came at the same time as him was even better, feeling like he was being killed by your tight heat- breath coming out in gasps and brain going blank. „Ohhh ffffucck“ was all he could mutter out, you still gave weak grinds of your hips against his, rising out your own pleasure before you came to a stop and slumped down against him, face against his chest and listening to his fast heartbeat. Keeping him seethed inside of you, too exhausted to have him pull out just yet. But.. to your shock, he was still hard. Barely even calmed down from his highs and already bucking into you again

„Mff, another round??“

[yassbishimvintage]

Just Us

MDNI: For the grown and the sexy.

Warnings: Talks of kids, sex positions.

A/n: Hey y'all. So here is that Aaron fic. Look its all over the place. And I highly recommend listening to the song before to set the mood.

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the sheer curtains of their St. John’s Wood home, casting a golden hue across the minimalist, yet luxuriously warm bedroom. The house was unusually quiet, their busy schedules clear for the first time, leaving Aaron and Cleo to savor the rare stillness.

Aaron stood at the vanity mirror, buttoning up a crisp black shirt, the fabric molding perfectly to his broad shoulders. His hazel eyes flicked toward Cleo’s reflection as she moved gracefully across the room, her silk robe tied loosely at the waist, revealing hints of the outfit underneath. She was effortlessly stunning, her skin glowing with that natural radiance he could never get enough of.

"You’re staring, Mr. Pierre," Cleo teased, applying a subtle gloss to her lips, though a small smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Aaron didn’t miss a beat, stepping closer to slide his arms around her waist from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder. "And I’ll never get tired of it," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the curve of her neck.

Cleo chuckled, her fingers briefly resting on his. "We’ll miss the movie if you keep this up."

He leaned back slightly, meeting her gaze in the mirror. "Is that really a problem?"

They eventually managed to finish getting ready, Cleo slipping into a chic, figure-hugging dress with a pair of understated yet elegant heels. Aaron, in his tailored slacks and shirt, exuded that effortless charm she always admired.

As they walked to the Bentley truck, Cleo grabbed his hand. "It’s nice, you know—just us today."

Aaron squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. "My favorite kind of day."

During the drive, their playlist filled the silence—an eclectic mix of old-school R&B and modern hits, songs that carried memories of road trips, late-night talks, and spontaneous dances in the kitchen.

At the cinema, they opted for one of those luxury screening rooms with reclining seats, plush blankets, and an intimate vibe. Aaron ordered their usual—popcorn layered with both butter and caramel (Cleo’s guilty pleasure), and a couple of mocktails.

Mid-movie, Aaron reached over, his fingers finding Cleo’s without looking. She squeezed his hand gently, leaning her head against his shoulder. For them, it wasn’t just about the film. It was about these small, quiet moments—the ones where words weren’t needed because the love was already woven into the space between them.

After the movie, instead of heading straight home, they strolled around the city, talking about everything and nothing, laughter spilling freely, just like when they first met. It was a simple morning turned perfect, wrapped in the comfort of familiarity and the spark that never faded.

-

Cleo glanced up at Aaron, a slow, teasing smile curving her lips as they walked hand in hand along the quiet streets of London. The soft hum of the city provided a gentle backdrop, but his question hung in the air, weighted with both playfulness and sincerity.

She arched a brow, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, so that’s your agenda for today? A movie and a baby-making proposal?"

Aaron chuckled, pulling her closer until his arm wrapped securely around her waist. "I mean, it sounds like a solid plan to me. Quality entertainment, great company, and potentially expanding the Pierre legacy."

Cleo laughed, the sound warm and rich. She stopped walking, turning to face him fully, her hands resting on his chest. 

Cleo pretended to consider, tapping her finger against her chin dramatically. "Hmm, sleepless nights, diaper blowouts, teething… sounds dreamy."

He laughed, the deep, warm sound vibrating against her palms. Then, with a more tender expression, he whispered, "But also baby giggles, first steps, and watching them grow up with a family who’ll spoil them rotten."

Cleo’s heart softened, even as she rolled her eyes playfully. "You’re dangerously persuasive, Mr. Pierre."

Aaron grinned, leaning in to kiss her softly. "I’m just saying… we’d make a masterpiece."

She laughed against his lips, then pulled back slightly, her gaze locking with his. "Well, you know me—I love a good challenge."

He smirked. "So that’s a yes?"

Cleo just shook her head, her smile giving nothing away as she started walking again, tugging his hand. "Let’s get home, and we’ll see who wins this round."

Aaron followed, that satisfied grin still on his face because he knew exactly where this was headed.

Aaron chuckled, his grip on her hand tightening slightly as they continued walking. "Well, can you blame me?" he replied, his voice low and smooth. "Your body’s basically my favorite subject. I study it like it’s the only thing that matters."

Cleo laughed, shaking her head, a soft blush creeping onto her cheeks despite the years they’d been together. "You say that like it’s supposed to be flattering."

He stopped walking, gently pulling her to face him again. His hazel eyes softened, the playful edge giving way to something more sincere. "It is. I know every curve, every change, every little sign. It’s like your body speaks to me, and I’d be a fool not to listen."

Cleo’s heart skipped, her teasing demeanor faltering under the warmth of his words. She reached up, brushing her fingers along his jaw. "You really don’t play fair."

Aaron leaned down, his lips brushing against hers, soft and lingering. "Never claimed to."

They stood there for a beat, wrapped up in the quiet, unspoken connection that always seemed to pull them back to each other. Then Cleo pulled away slightly, her signature smirk returning.

"Alright, Mr. Pierre. Let’s see if all that studying pays off."

Aaron grinned, sliding his arm around her waist as they headed home. "Oh, trust me, Professor—I’m about to ace this test."

Aaron smirked, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous glint as he leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

"You really wanna know?" he teased, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of her hip. "It’s not just about the position, babe. It’s about having you right where I want you."

Cleo arched an eyebrow, amused but intrigued. "Oh, I’m listening."

He leaned back slightly, his grin widening. "Alright then. It’s when you’re on top," he confessed smoothly, his hand sliding up her back. "Because I get to watch you. Every move, every expression—you in control, but still mine. And when I pull you down just enough to kiss you? That’s my favorite."

Cleo’s laugh was soft, her eyes darkening with both affection and heat. "You really don’t know how to keep things PG for more than five seconds, do you?"

Aaron shrugged, unapologetic. "Not when it comes to you."

Aaron chuckled, his lips brushing over the back of her hand before resting it on his thigh as he merged onto the highway.

"Back shots are a close second," he admitted, casting her a quick sideways glance, his grin never fading. "But see, with that, it’s all about me—control, power." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "But when you’re on top? That’s us. It’s you owning it, and me losing my damn mind watching you."

Cleo smirked, tilting her head slightly as she studied him. "So, basically, you like being obsessed."

Aaron laughed, his deep, rich tone filling the car. "Babe, I’ve been obsessed since day one. That’s nothing new."

She rolled her eyes playfully, leaning back in her seat, her smile softening as she looked out the window. "You’re lucky you’re cute."

He shot her another quick glance, his grin turning into that smug, signature smirk. "Nah, I’m lucky you’re mine."

Cleo’s gaze lingered on him, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, freshly defined by his new cut. The subtle glint of his chain peeked out from beneath his shirt, catching the light with every slight movement. His glasses sat perfectly on his face, adding an intellectual edge to his already magnetic presence. The way his hand rested on her thigh—firm, warm, and claiming without needing to say a word—sent a comforting shiver through her.

His focus on the road was unwavering, but his thumb absentmindedly traced slow, deliberate circles against her skin. There was nothing performative about it—just natural, effortless intimacy, like his presence was the anchor to her heartbeat.

She sighed softly, the tension she didn’t even realize she carried melting away. “You don’t even try, do you?” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, more to herself than him.

Aaron’s lips quirked slightly, his eyes still trained on the road. “Try what?” he asked, his thumb pausing for just a second before continuing its gentle motion.

She shook her head with a faint smile, looking out the window, her heart swelling. “You just… exist. And it’s enough.”

At that, Aaron glanced over briefly, his smile softer now, filled with unspoken words. He gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Same way I feel about you, baby.”

And just like that, the car didn’t feel like a space—they were wrapped in a bubble, just the two of them, the world passing by unnoticed.

Aaron stepped out of the car with effortless grace, his chain catching the last hint of daylight as it swayed slightly with his movements. He adjusted his glasses with one hand while the other casually slid into his pocket as he rounded the sleek Bentley. His steps were unhurried, purposeful, like every motion was stitched with quiet confidence.

Reaching Cleo’s door, he opened it with a smooth pull, his gaze dropping to meet hers. There was a softness there—an unspoken tenderness mixed with that ever-present masculine edge she loved. His hand extended, palm up, the veins in his forearm subtly defined as he waited for her to take it.

Cleo slipped her hand into his, and the warmth of his touch sent a familiar spark through her. He helped her out with ease, their bodies naturally falling into sync as she stood. His hand didn’t drop away immediately; instead, his fingers lingered, sliding from her palm to her wrist, then up to gently brush the inside of her forearm.

“You good, baby?” he asked, his voice low, coated with that distinct rasp that always made her chest tighten in the best way.

She nodded, her smile soft yet full of heat. “I’m always good with you.”

Aaron leaned in, his lips grazing the curve of her jaw, then trailing softly to the shell of her ear. “Good,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin. “Because I plan on keeping it that way.”

His hand found the small of her back as they walked toward the house, fingers spreading wide, possessive but protective. It was subtle, but to Cleo, it was everything—the quiet declaration that she was his, even without words.

-

Aaron disappeared into their expansive walk-in closet, the faint sound of hangers sliding along the sleek, custom-built rods filling the quiet space. The soft lighting cast a warm glow over the neatly organized rows of designer suits, tailored shirts, and an impressive collection of sneakers meticulously arranged on shelves. His chain caught the light once more as he pulled his shirt over his head, the muscles in his back flexing with the motion.

Cleo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his physique. His broad shoulders tapered down to a slim waist, the definition in his back a testament to his disciplined routine. He didn’t know she was watching—or maybe he did. With Aaron, it was always hard to tell because his awareness of her presence was almost instinctive.

He exchanged his tailored slacks for a pair of soft, grey sweatpants, the waistband riding low on his hips, and tossed on a black fitted T-shirt that hugged him just right. As he adjusted the simple yet perfectly styled chain around his neck, he caught her reflection in the mirror—a soft smile playing on her lips, her gaze unapologetically lingering.

“You just gonna stand there and stare?” he asked with a smirk, his deep voice carrying that casual tease she’d fallen for years ago.

Cleo stepped into the closet, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. “Can you blame me?” she replied, her fingers lightly grazing the exposed skin at his waist before sliding up to rest against his chest. “You make it hard not to.”

Aaron tilted his head slightly, his grin deepening as he leaned down, his lips barely brushing hers. “Then don’t stop,” he whispered, before claiming her mouth with a kiss that was both soft and possessive, his hands finding her hips, pulling her closer.

For a moment, the world outside their closet ceased to exist—just the two of them wrapped up in the gravity that always pulled them back to each other, no matter how much time had passed.

Cleo lay sprawled across their bed, the soft linen sheets tangled beneath her, her chest rising and falling in slow, satisfied breaths. The subtle sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, catching the muted afternoon light that filtered through the sheer curtains. Her hair fanned out across the pillows, wild and untamed, much like the energy that had filled the room just moments before.

Aaron stood at the foot of the bed, his chest heaving slightly, a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He raked a hand through his hair, the chain around his neck resting against his collarbone, glinting faintly. His gaze never left her—admiring, possessive, tender.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice husky, filled with both pride and adoration. He climbed back onto the bed, settling beside her, his hand tracing lazy, feather-light patterns along the curve of her hip.

Cleo’s lips curled into a soft smile, her eyes half-lidded with that post-bliss haze. “You know,” she said breathlessly, “I was just trying to get dressed.”

Aaron chuckled lowly, leaning in to press a kiss to her shoulder, his beard grazing her skin, sending a fresh wave of warmth through her. “You looked too good to ignore,” he whispered against her skin, his fingers still drawing slow circles.

She hummed in response, her hand finding its way to rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her palm. For a few blissful moments, neither of them spoke, just basking in the quiet intimacy that filled the room.

Then Aaron broke the silence with a soft laugh. “So… that dinner date with Kel and Simone?”

Cleo turned her head slightly, giving him a playful side-eye, her smile widening. “Oh, we definitely missed that dinner. But I think they will forgive us. Eventually.”

Aaron grinned, leaning down to kiss her again, slow and unhurried. “We’ll catch the next one,” he whispered, his hand slipping to intertwine with hers, their fingers fitting together like they always had—effortlessly.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout @melaninpov @todorokishoe24 @chaoticcoffeequeen @gopaperless @jenlovey @notapradagurl7

[hotchnersangel]

Late for the reservation

Aaron Hotchner.

ib the song late for the reservation by arthur hill.

warnings: many implications of sex, minors dni, whipped hotch, passionate kissing idrk xxx

————

You were a fellow member at the bau, however you were not a profiler, you were the communications liaison- filling jj’s old place with her now being a profiler. In the period of being in the bau, you had started to liaise with Aaron Hotchner. The unit chief of the bau. You were both apprehensive at first, though, it was quickly pushed aside at the infatuation to one another. You aren’t dating, not officially, but you are also too complex to be friends, to be colleagues. You were just casual lovers, part time bed-buddies.

Aaron had booked a fancy restaurant to take you to tonight, not to sound spoilt, but he often did. His love language was definitely through grand gestures and acts of service. He loves spoiling you, you often remind him that he doesn’t need to go out of his way for extravagant offerings but simply being present with you was enough to content you. Though, he always shook his head and gave you his serious look.

Though, once we had returned from the case, it was clear that the reservation may have to be postponed.

From the moment you stepped into your apartment, he was pinning you against the closed door in an instant, kissing you like he had been deprived for a lifetime. Though, he kept it passionate despite the vigorous action. His hand rested on your waist, his other on your neck as you entwine your bodies. Your hands were in his hair, pulling on the slightly gelled strands until it became messy. In a swift motion, he had moved his grip down your ass, offering a loving squeeze before picking you up like you weighed nothing. You had argued with him once to be careful when picking you up, you weren’t exactly the lightest of people, but he quickly shut you down with kisses, telling you he would do what he wants when he has the chance.

He carried you into the kitchen, placing you down on the counter and standing between your legs, kissing you passionately. His hands roam your body and you let a moan slip into his mouth when he pulls you closer to his body. You could feel the outline of him through his pants, enough to know that he was excited to be with you.

You pull away, looking at him and panting, running your fingers through his hair. “Baby… we have a reservation to get to.” You smile softly at him and he stares intently at you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re sick, we can’t make it.” He mumbles, pressing his lips back on yours and you laugh and pull away, looking up at him.

“Oh really? I’m sick?” You smirk as you see him nod.

“Yeah,” he sighs dramatically, “I forgot to tell you that you were feeling under the weather and have to stay home with me.”

“Now, that wouldn’t be very economically sustainable would it Mr. Hotchner?” You shoot back at him.

“How so, Mrs. Hotchner?” He smirks back at you and you take a deep breath in, it being caught in your throat.

“Not there yet, buddy.” You smirk at him and he laughs.

“Sorry, future Mrs. Hotchner.” He shoots back with a cheeky smirk.

“Thats Agent to you, Aaron.” You retort with a small smile, loving the banter between you both. Your cheeks already rosy from the make out session you just shared, like two teenagers. Though, you think you’ve turned ten times rosier from the hint of being his wife. Suddenly, dinner seems less appealing.

“That’s Sir to you.” He looks into your eyes and you pull his tie closer to you.

“Mmm,” you hum staring at his lips, “We are going to be late, Sir.”

You hear his voice hitch in his throat at the action, feeling the grip on your waist tighten. “It wasn’t that important anyway.”

“No, we should go. Aaron, this place has five star reviews.” You say back, looking up at him as you rest your hands flat on his chest now.

“Baby, so do you.” He smirks and kisses your cheek, moving across to your ear then your neck.

You sigh in pleasure. “I want to try it, plus we’ve booked a table for two…”

“We have other things to do.” He states seriously and you laugh, jumping down from the counter and heading into your bedroom to get ready.

“I won’t be long, I promise.” You go to get ready, putting on a silk black dress with lace carved into it. You throw some makeup on, spraying your perfume an extra time to make sure you smell good before you go out. For him. You eventually walk back into your lounge and see him leaning against your kitchen counter, an arm leaning on the side and his phone in his hands. He looks up at the sound of your heels chattering against the wooden floor and his eyes immediately catch onto yours and his face contorts, his chest rising and his jaw laying slack. “Holy fuck.”

You giggle at his remark, feeling the heat on your cheeks as he oggles you, his eyes roaming around your face then falling lower, over your body. He tosses his phone onto the counter and moves closer to you, pulling you into his chest. You rest your hands behind his neck and interlock them as he breathes over your cheek and neck, tickling you slightly but you don’t move. He lets out a deep sigh. “Oh, you’re breathtaking.” He kisses your cheek and you pull back slightly.

“You’re going to ruin my makeup,” you say sternly, looking over at him. He hums and looks over your body again.

“I don’t care, I don’t think we will make it out the door,” he whispers sensually, his hands finding their place back over your waist, hoisting you onto the counter once again. “I’ve got to have you baby,” he mumbles and kisses your neck.

“Oh, you’re going to make us late for the reservation.” You say, giggling at his enthusiasm.

“Guess the waiters gonna wait,” he shrugs and kisses your cheek, looking at you intently.

You laugh at his comment, throwing your head back and he watches with adoration, a small smile kissing his lips. “That’s incredibly rude on them, don’t you think?”

“Just a little bit longer?” He pouts, looking down at you with big doe eyes. You shake your head.

“Maybe five minutes or whatever.” You smirk at him, seeing the relief on his face.

“Give me two.” He kisses your lips one more time before kissing down your body, lifting your dress up, to bunch around your waist.

“Make it one.” You say finally, as he picks you up and lays you on the kitchen floor so he doesn’t contaminate the counters. As if he would leave any trace of you untouched by him.

———————

a/n: i didnt know whether to include actual smut in this so i’ve made it possible for a part two if anyone is interested in it being finished (or them) sooooo lmk if you liked it cuties

———————

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Can you do an Isekaid child reader who's a cat Mobius with platonic yandere sonic, Amy and tails? 🥹👉👈 I was reading holorform2009's post, it was so damn delicious. And I loved the fact that Isekaid reader is based on scraps from dandy world. And I also liked your writings too!

A/n: holorform is a great mutual

Yandere Sonic, Amy & Tails x Isekai’d Child Reader

Platonic

Your first memory here is... static. Trying to remember it was the same as trying to gather sand in your hands, it just slipped past you. One moment, you were somewhere else, a place of light and strange voices. Then, nothing.

Now, you're here. In a world of blue skies and rolling hills, staring up at a trio of strangers who look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

"Whoa, little buddy, you okay?" The blue one, Sonic, crouches in front of you, ears twitching forward trying to hear you better. His voice is casual, but hes careful in the way he speaks, like he's trying not to spook you.

Amy, the pink one, is already kneeling beside you, gloved hands hovering like she wants to scoop you up. "They look so lost, Sonic! Poor kid... Where did you come from?"

You tell them your name, one of the onky things you *can* remember, everything else a blur.

"Thats fine Y/N, we'll help you get back to wherever you cane from in no time!"

Tails observes you, he seems to have some sort of device in his hands he keeps looking back at hefore squinting his eyes at you again. "huh, it seems like there was some big burst of energy from where they are!"

Sonic looked back at you reachibg out a hand for you to take"Don't worry, we'll help you figure this out," he declares, as here l helps you up.

Amy beams at you, her enthusiasm palpable.

"You're safe with us now! We'll take care of you," she promises, her voice gentle.

Tails nods in agreement, already brainstorming solutions. "We should head back to my workshop. I have equipment there that might help us understand your situation better."

They guided you through the hills and stretching scenery until they made it to his workshop.

At the workshop, he ran various test, his fascination with your form evident. Sonic and Amy hover nearby, their protective gazes never leaving you.

"You're truly unique," Tails remarks, his eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and something else you can't quite place.

Days turn into weeks as you adjust to life in this new world. Sonic, Amy, and Tails rarely leave your side, their devotion unwavering. They shower you with attention, always eager to assist you, but their overprotectiveness becomes stifling.

One evening, as you sit by a tranquil lake, Sonic approaches, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with a somber expression.

"Hey, I know this is all new for you," he begins, sitting beside you. "But we care about you, a lot. We just want to keep you safe."

Before you can respond, Amy appears, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"You're like family to us now," she cradled your face. "Please, don't ever think of leaving."

"Seriously." Tails stated, his voice firm.

Their words weigh heavily on you. While their affection is genuine, there's an underlying possessiveness that makes you uneasy. Their love had good intentions, but it was becoming obsessive.

As days pass, their behavior becomes more controlling. They insist on knowing your every move, discouraging you from interacting with others. The once warm and welcoming environment now feels like a gilded cage.

One night, the moon shone overhead, full And bright. You decided eniygh was enough. You need to reclaim your freedom, to find a way back to your world. But escaping their watchful eyes woudn't be easy.

Gathering your resolve, you waited for the right moment, a moment when no one was watching, a moment where they weren't practically smothering you with worry.

But the moment you try to leave, the moment you so much as hint at being anywhere but here.

One of them is already in front of you. Blocking your path.

"Whoa there. Where d'ya think you're goin'?"

…You're not sure.

But wherever it is, you get the feeling they won't let you reach it.

[rarepairdumpster]

Arcane Connection AU

Pairing: Viktor/Silco (Arcane) Rating: M C/W: Silco Lives, Bottom Silco, Shimmer as Medicine, Their souls AND dicks are connected

AU where, because of his strong emotional connection with Silco, Viktor starts to gain control of the Arcane instead of vice versa.

Instead of the commune, he's able to operate out of The Last Drop because he's partnered with Silco.

Viktor starting to be able to choose how he looks, instead of it just happening to him because Jayce killed him.

Also because he has access to shimmer including the variants, Viktor is able to handle the transitions better.

Viktor no longer looking so spindly, but not looking beefy at all.

He just looks healthy, but purple.

Viktor keeps his face and hair, but can summon a mask if needed. He finds his favorite thing to do after he regains his strength and coordination is dance with Silco.

Without having to lean on him or rest a foot on Silco's the whole time. 

And Silco enjoys not having to lead all the time.

Silco getting to be twirled and dipped is so *Chefs Kiss*

The first time Viktor tried to dip Silco, they fell over though, because he didn't realise how heavy Silco was because he'd never had to take his weight before.

Silco being surprised (once the two of them stop laughing) when Viktor is on top of him on the floor, kneeling between his legs without any hint of pain.

Viktor smirking and leaning down to kiss Silco, then wrapping his arms around Silco and pulling him up into his lap.

Silco letting out a startled noise, legs moving to wrap around Viktor for some extra security. His face and neck both feel so hot. Silco hasn't been on someone's lap in what feels like a lifetime.

Viktor loves that he can hold Silco like this finally, and can feel the arcane flow though his body as he kisses Silco's cheek and neck.

One hand is cradling the back of Silco's flushed neck and the other is gripping his hip with an easy strength.

Viktor breathes "I've wanted to do this for so long" against Silco's neck as he pulls Silco down against his large cock so that Silco can feel him getting hard.

Silco chuckles a bit, grinding down and causing Viktor to let out a gasp. "It's been a while," he says, arms tightening around Viktor's neck. "But you've had a habit of making me feel young lately"

"It must be the Arcane," Viktor murmurs. "Sometimes I feel like it wants to burst out of me."

"Maybe there's a transference," Silco hums, leaning back a bit to allow one hand to sneak between their bodies, beginning to unfasten Viktor's pants. "There's something with me--with us that enhances it. I feel it too"

When Silco sinks down on him, when Viktor cradles Silco's face and presses their foreheads together, Silco feels a stronger rush of energy through him and then gets a glimpse of that cosmic space.

Silco never thought Viktor would make him ACTUALLY see stars.

There is absolutely a transference when Viktor cums in Silco. Silco can feel it all the way up his spine and then spread out through his body.

The next day, Silco's infected cheek looks less black.

His aging joints don't hurt as much.

He stands a bit straighter.

Him slamming a fist on his desk when he gets infuriating news, and the wood freaking cracks and splinters in a circle around his fist

"uh, Viktor?"

Viktor pausing on his way past the office, and glancing in at Silco staring down at his fist still resting on the desk.

When Silco picks up his fist, he sees that the side that hit the desk is purple, like Viktor. 

Silco looks up at Viktor. "I believe something is happening to me."

Viktor staring at that patch of purple and feeling a swell of unease, and a mixture of guilt and shame.

Because that hadn't happened until after he started fucking Silco while affected by the Arcane.

Viktor also starts to notice Silco's scar looking more like the hexcore as well, shifting from red to a deep purple. 

"I never intended to..." Viktor steps towards Silco. "The hexcore seems to be affecting you through me"

Silco doesn't answer, but his lips thin. He holds his hand, rubbing his thumb over the patch of purple.

"Am I going to lose control of this? Of myself?"

"I don't...I don't know," Viktor sighs. "Something like this--like me, has never happened before. Someone mundane has never become able to access the Arcane until now. The side effects are mostly unknown." Viktor looks over at Silco's hands. "Does it hurt?"

"Tingles," Silco answers quietly, looking down at the patch. "Not quite itchy, but almost."

Silco licks his lips.

"Fades when you touch me."

When Viktor reaches his hand out and Silco grabs it, it's like an electric circuit has been completed between them and the pressure of the current is released. Viktor immediately brings himself closer, pulling Silco to him, sighing as the feeling runs through his body, flowing between them.

Silco tips his face into Viktor's shoulder, and just let's that feeling flood through him

"I'm sorry," Viktor mumbles, kissing Silco's hair. "I didn't mean for...this"

Silco curls a hand into the back of Viktor's sweater. He doesn't want to admit, but part of him is....afraid.

Over the next few days, it starts to spread across Silco's hand and it reminds Viktor of his own hand. Silco is still injecting Shimmer into his eye daily and Viktor starts to wonder if that is assisting as well.

The injections start to feel....easier.

Less painful.

More exhilarating

The last few times Viktor has helped with the injection, Silco practically jumps him, shoving him onto the couch in his office and grinding down on him. He's like a man possessed.

Viktor struggling to gather his wits enough to stop him because every fibre of his being wants.

Wants to feel Silco on him, around him, under him.

And wants to pump him full.

"I need you," Silco breathes, tugging on Viktor's clothes. 

When Viktor catches a glimpse of Silco's eyes, their usual blue and red were replaced with lavender and indigo.

Seeing it makes something inside Viktor pulse, and the next thing he knows, Silco is on his back on the couch and Viktor has torn straight through Silco's clothes, the ripping sound loud in the office.

Silco isn't sure how he's already so open and wet, but he isn't going to argue, especially with Viktor already pushing into him. He moans as he feels Viktor slide in, like the last puzzle piece of his soul slotting into place.

Silco digging his fingers into Viktor's shoulders as he starts to see that cosmic space again, every time his lashes flutter.

He feels like he's floating in space, like he can feel everything, but also knows that he's pinned to the couch, that his legs are wrapped around Viktor's waist like a vice.

When Viktor is inside of Silco it feels like he can see the universe, spread out in front of him. He can feel Silco, so close to him and so joined, but he sees the arcane with a clarity that only comes with him near.

Downstairs, people can hear the drag of the couch shifting across the floor while Viktor rails Silco like there's no tomorrow

Everyone is like "yea Silco destroy that twink" but Sevika is the only one that knows which twink is actually getting destroyed.

After, when the urge feels sated, the two of them are just stretched out and panting on the couch. 

For once, Silco's body doesn't complain about being railed. If anything, he feels better than he did before.

Silco runs his hand through Viktor's hair, watching his purple fingers glide through the mass of brown and white. 

"Like you, it seems the shimmer has been helping to ease the transition," Silco observes.

Arch + Woods

[lesbikaiser]

Hellooo :3

could you write how Lorenzo and Barou would react to if reader sent them nudes, please?

hii <3 ofc i can! im so sorry for taking so long :( idk how exactly to write reactions but i hope you like it!

proofread but you never know, so im sorry if there's any errors!

don lorenzo

lorenzo feels like drool might start leaking from his mouth. there's no way he isn't spotting a hard-on right now, he knows that. all thanks to the notification popping on his screen just when he got his break, his intention being only checking his phone to see if you left any texts and oh, sure you did.

"been missing you... [02:38 PM]"

'"come back soon <3 [02:46 PM]"

the first one was sent a few minutes before his break, he could even hear your whiny voice actually saying it, and just from this one message alone, he would be beaming for the rest of his practice while thinking about you.

well, that's until he noticed the image attached to the second one.

surely he'll be thinking about you for the rest of the day after seeing it. the one that made him click on your chat, the one that got lips curving into a smirk, the one that got the boner on his shorts.

it's a picture of you. your body lays on your shared bed, breasts free of any bra with your nipples perked up, one of your hands holding your phone up to your face while the other disappears inside the lacy panties adorning your hips, hinting what you've probably been done for the past minutes.

it's a mirror picture. the same mirror he got on the ceiling of your bedroom, specifically above your bed because he wanted you to watch when he fucks you in missionary.

he's totally making that picture his lockscreen. because he's just this kind of freak.

and he's totally excusing himself to the locker room to enjoy his break, fingers quickly moving to text back a response.

"keep cumming till you can't anymore [02:50 PM]"

"ya better be nice and wet for me when i get home [02:51 PM]"

oh, and he's 100% snapping a few pictures of his hand covered in his cum and sending it to you when he's done.

shoei barou

shoei barou can't believe his eyes. he thinks you might've gone insane at this point.

he knew it would come back to bite him in the ass sooner or later, to date such a nasty person like you... but what could he do? he loved you after all.

even when you decided to give him a boner in the middle of his cleaning.

he couldn't help but worry a little when his phone rang non-stop, the exclusive sound he gave your number so he would know it was you just from hearing it, indicating you'd sent him a few texts. and as much as cleaning was sacred to him, you were way more important than the dishes he was doing.

oh, what a right regretful choice.

"shoeeeeei [04:28 PM]"

"miss u sososo muchhhh [04:28 PM]"

"wanna be with youuuu [04:29 PM]"

unlocking his phone, the first messages got him to calm down, at least he knew that you were safe. he smiled to himself, reading through your sweet texts. he really thought nothing of it at first, he was used to your clinginess – especially when you had to go to work –, that was probably just you being your lovely self.

that's until he scrolled down and saw the image attached to your chat.

it was a picture of you. probably hidden in the restroom, your face is off the screen, just lips and chin showing but surely not the most eye-catching element in the pic.

his gaze is unconsciously attracted to your uniform, with enough buttons open to show your cleavage and the red, lacy bra framing your breasts, he can't deny his dick twitches at the sight. like a cherry atop the cake, a necklace hangs from your neck with a 'B' pendant resting right in the middle of your tits, a faint bruise on your skin thanks to the hickey he gave you a while ago.

he reads the caption.

"yk, it's soooo hot today [04:32 PM]"

"can't wait to be home and get rid of these clothes >.< [04:33 PM]"

he's too stunned to even think of responding, eyes bulging as he stares at his screen perplexed. he can feel his dick straining against his shorts, breath heavy as lust washes over him, heat creeping up his neck and reaching his cheeks the longer he looks at the picture.

it's your next message that takes him out of his trance, his heart pounding in his chest and blood rushing through his veins, eagerness getting the best of him when he places his hand over his bulge, squeezing it slightly as he reads your text.

"hopefully i'll be home soon [04:35 PM]"

"so wait for me my love <3 [04:35 PM]"

he's looking forward to it.

[s4svnn]

Out of bounds . JJK

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; his love subjected you to the true extent of deception, a merciless lie wrapped in the illusion of paradise, until the truth tore it apart - he was always out of bounds.

↳ Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬: ongoing

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

Chapter Thirty Three

My heart slammed against my ribs as I stared at him, my fingers unconsciously tightening around the edge of the counter. A million thoughts crashed into me all at once, each one louder than the next, but only one question managed to escape my lips.

"How are you here right now?"

Jungkook tilted his head slightly, his dark eyes watching me with quiet amusement. He looked completely at ease, as if this wasn’t the most surreal, intrusive thing in the world. As if he hadn’t just waltzed back into my life out of nowhere.

His lips curled into the faintest smirk. “I flew in this morning.”

His voice. Smooth, deep, familiar in a way that made my stomach twist uncomfortably.

I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”

Jungkook exhaled slowly, like he had expected that question. “I wanted to see you.”

A bitter laugh escaped my lips before I could stop it. He wanted to see me? After everything? Just like that?

I shook my head, anger bubbling up through the initial shock. “Yeah, no. I don’t have time for whatever game you think you’re playing, so do us both a favor and leave.”

I turned back to the register, deliberately avoiding his gaze, hoping—praying—he’d take the hint.

But of course, he didn’t.

“No,” he said simply.

I froze. My head snapped back up, my eyes narrowing into a glare. “No?” I repeated, incredulity laced in my voice.

Jungkook’s gaze was steady, unwavering. He wasn’t smirking anymore, wasn’t wearing that smug, unreadable expression. He was just… looking at me.

My chest tightened, my fists clenching at my sides. “You made it damn well clear that you were only using me,” I hissed, my voice low but sharp. “So why the fuck are you here now?”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

His jaw tensed, his fingers pressing against the counter like he was holding something back. But then, his expression shifted—just slightly, just enough. A flicker of something I couldn’t quite place crossed his features, something I almost wanted to believe was regret.

But I wasn’t going to fall for it.

I scoffed, shaking my head again. “Unbelievable.”

Jungkook’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping an octave. “I never used you.”

I let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, really? That’s funny, because from where I’m standing, that’s exactly what it felt like.”

He didn’t respond right away. He just stood there, watching me like he was trying to find the right words, like he knew anything he said would never be enough. And he was right. It wouldn’t be.

I had spent too long trying to make sense of what we were, of him, of the way he made me feel like I was something, only to rip it all away the second it got too real. I wasn’t about to let him do it again.

I took a step back. “Just leave, Jungkook.”

But he didn’t move.

Instead, he leaned in ever so slightly, his voice low and deliberate.

“I can’t.”

My breath hitched slightly at his words, my body tensing as I processed them. I should have been furious—hell, I was furious—but there was something in the way he said it, something in the way his voice dropped, like it was heavier than he wanted it to be.

My lips parted, my voice unconsciously quieter now, hesitant. “What do you mean you can’t?”

Jungkook exhaled slowly, his fingers flexing against the counter like he was debating something, like he was trying to figure out how much to say.

“I just… can’t,” he said finally, his tone rougher now, like the words tasted bitter in his mouth.

That wasn’t good enough.

I shook my head, my hands pressing into the counter to steady myself. “That’s not an answer, Jungkook.” My voice was sharper now, regaining its edge despite the lingering shock. “You don’t get to show up here after months of silence, after making me feel like I meant nothing, and just drop cryptic bullshit like that.”

His jaw clenched. His hands curled into loose fists at his sides, and for the first time, he looked… frustrated. Maybe even pissed off. But it wasn’t the usual detached arrogance he carried—it was something else.

Something raw.

“You think it was easy for me?” he muttered, almost to himself, before shaking his head. His eyes met mine again, and for once, they weren’t guarded. 

I scoffed. “You sure as hell made it look that way.”

Jungkook exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his dark hair. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?” I shot back, stepping out from behind the counter now, needing to put space between us but also needing to see him, to understand why he was doing this.

He looked down for a moment, pressing his lips together before looking back at me. And when he did, I felt something in my chest tighten.

Because there was something in his eyes—something torn, something conflicted.

Something that looked too much like regret.

“I thought it was the right thing to do,” he said finally, voice quieter now.

A humorless laugh bubbled out of me before I could stop it. “Oh, really?”

His expression darkened. “You don’t understand—”

“No, I don’t,” I interrupted, my heart pounding now. “Because you never let me. You just do what you want because all you want is control.”

Jungkook’s eyes burned into mine, his chest rising and falling with barely contained frustration. Then, out of nowhere, his voice erupted—sharp, raw, and laced with something I couldn’t quite name.

"What control?!"

I flinched at the sudden outburst, my body going rigid as my breath caught in my throat. My mouth fell open slightly, but no words came out.

I just stared at him.

Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tight, his expression stormy. “I don’t have control over anything—not my own goddamn thoughts, not my own feelings, and not my own fucking life.” His voice dropped, still rough but quieter, like he was forcing himself to rein it in. “Everything i’ve ever done has been dictated by others and i’m so fucking sick of it. I’m so fucking sick of having to play by the rules so that the people around me are happy whilst I’m left to overthink about shit that no one else seems to care about. I tried to leave you behind. I tried to move on. But you know what?”

I swallowed, still too stunned to respond.

He let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “You never left my fucking head. No matter how far I ran, no matter how much I tried to push it all down, you were always there.” His hands curled into fists at his sides, his gaze locking onto mine like I was the only thing anchoring him in place. “And it’s driving me insane.”

Something inside me wavered, but I fought it down. I crossed my arms over my chest, schooling my face into something cold, something detached—even though my heart was thundering against my ribs.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” I asked, my voice sharp despite the way my stomach twisted at his words.

Jungkook exhaled sharply, his tongue running over his bottom lip as his hands found his hips. He looked away for a brief second, shaking his head like he was at war with himself. 

For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something—needed to say something. His lips parted slightly, but then he hesitated, as if the words were stuck in his throat. His hands twitched at his sides, his whole body tense like he was barely holding himself together.

His reaction only fueled my anger.

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “What? Nothing to say?” I taunted, my voice colder than even I expected. “No clever comeback? No denial?” I tilted my head, my eyes narrowing. “You made your choice, Jungkook. And now, you think you can just show up and—what? Say a few pretty words and expect everything to be fine?”

His jaw clenched harder, his nostrils flaring slightly.

“You don’t understand—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” I cut him off, stepping forward now, the anger burning too hot in my chest to hold back. “I was the fool, wasn’t I? The stupid designer who got played, just like Jade wanted. And you? You let her. You let me think I was nothing more than some temporary distraction while you went back to her.” My voice wavered slightly, but I refused to break, refused to let him see just how deeply his choices had cut me.

Jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes darkening with frustration. “You think that’s what happened?” His voice was low, edged with something sharp, something almost dangerous.

I folded my arms across my chest, tilting my chin up defiantly. “I know that’s what happened.”

Jungkook let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Decide the narrative before I even have a chance to explain,” he shot back, his voice laced with frustration. “You paint me as the villain so it’s easier to hate me. And maybe I fucking deserve that. But you don’t even know the half of it.”

I stared at him, my chest rising and falling rapidly, my heart pounding against my ribs. “Then enlighten me,” I challenged, voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “Go on, Jungkook. Tell me how I’m wrong.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in the way he exhaled, in the way his fingers curled into fists before flexing again. He was holding something back—I could feel it.

But then, just as quickly, he let out a dry, humorless laugh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I did.”

I blinked, caught off guard by his tone.

Jungkook’s gaze flickered, searching my face, like he was looking for some kind of opening, some kind of permission to be honest. But instead of speaking, he did something that sent a chill down my spine.

He stepped closer.

Close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from him. Close enough that the scent of his cologne—rich, intoxicating—wrapped around me like a memory I didn’t want to relive. My breath hitched, but I didn’t move back. I couldn’t.

I took a breath, steadying myself. “I’ve moved on, Jungkook.”

His expression didn’t change at first—just a flicker of something unreadable behind his dark eyes. “Moved on?”

I nodded, forcing my voice to stay firm. “Yeah.”

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Then, his jaw ticked, his tongue running over his bottom lip as he exhaled sharply through his nose.

“What,” he said, his voice low, dangerous, “with your fucking boss?”

I froze.

My stomach dropped, my breath caught in my throat. My lips parted slightly, but no words came out. Because how the hell did he know that?

Jungkook let out a bitter scoff, shaking his head. “What? No snarky comeback?” His voice was sharp, biting. “No denial?”

I forced myself to blink, to recover. “How do you—”

His laugh was humorless. “You think I don’t know?” His eyes were burning now, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. “You say I don’t care about you, but here I am, thousands of miles away, still keeping tabs on you, even when you want nothing to do with me.”

My pulse was racing. I felt like the air had been knocked out of me. “You—”

“I what?” He took a step forward, closing the distance between us, his voice dropping lower. “I shouldn’t know? I shouldn’t care?” He tilted his head slightly, his gaze locked onto mine. “Too fucking bad, because I do.”

I swallowed hard, my mind scrambling to keep up. “That’s—”

“That’s what, huh?” Jungkook’s lips twisted into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, wasn’t quite a sneer. “Crazy? Possessive?” He let out another humorless chuckle. “I don’t give a shit. You think you can just move on and pretend like none of this meant anything?”

My fingers curled into fists at my sides. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Oh no?” His voice was sharp, his eyes narrowing. “So what, then? You just got bored of waiting and decided to settle for some guy who signs your paychecks?”

I felt my own anger flare up at that, my body tensing. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

Jungkook let out a short, bitter laugh. “Wow.” He ran a hand through his hair, his jaw clenching. “You really think this guy gives a shit about you.”

My stomach twisted, but I refused to let him see it. "I don’t need your opinion on my relationship."

"Relationship," he scoffed, shaking his head. "You’re calling it that like it means something." His eyes flickered with something dangerous. "Does he even know you the way I do?"

I scoffed. "I don’t think—I know. You didn’t care to actually know me, Jungkook. You just wanted to keep me under control. The rules, the expectations, the way you always had to have the last word—it wasn’t about us, it was about you and whatever need you had to dictate everything."

His jaw tightened, and for a second, I thought he might actually acknowledge it. But instead, he let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head. "That’s bullshit."

"Is it?" I shot back, stepping forward now, the heat of my anger burning too hot to contain. "Then tell me, Jungkook. What the fuck do you even know about me? You never put in the effort to find out when we lived together, so what makes you think you have the right to act like you care now?"

His eyes flashed, something unreadable flickering behind them. "That’s not fair—"

"Not fair?" I cut him off, my voice rising. "You don’t get to stand here and act like you know anything about me when you never bothered to try. You just set rules, made sure I stayed in my place, and convinced yourself that was enough. But it wasn’t."

His fingers curled into fists at his sides, his whole body taut with frustration. "You weren’t just some fucking—project to me."

"Then what was I?" I challenged, my heart pounding.

Jungkook’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his gaze locked onto mine. But he didn’t answer.

I let out a dry laugh. "That’s what I thought."

“Aylah I–”

Before Jungkook could finish—another voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"You need to leave."

Jungkook’s head turned slightly, and my stomach twisted as Adam stepped forward, his presence solid, unwavering. He didn’t touch me, didn’t grab my arm or make some grand protective gesture, but the way he stood beside me, the way his voice held that quiet authority, said enough.

Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, the sharp edge of it making something uneasy settle in my chest. "Who the fuck are you?"

Adam’s expression remained calm, unreadable. "Someone who doesn’t want to see her dragged into whatever game you think you’re playing."

Jungkook let out a short laugh, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Man, you guys love that word, huh? ‘Game.’ Like I’m just out here wasting my time for fun." He tilted his head, looking Adam up and down before his gaze flickered back to mine. "So, this is him? The guy you settled for?"

I tensed, but before I could respond, Adam spoke, his voice steady. "She doesn’t owe you an explanation."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "Look at you. All protective." He clapped his hands together mockingly before shoving them in his pockets. "You got her all figured out, huh?"

My breath caught, and Adam stiffened slightly beside me. "At least I know how to treat her like a person, not something to control."

Jungkook’s lips curled into a smirk, but there was no humor behind it—only cold calculation. He leaned in just enough for his words to reach Adam’s ear, his voice low and lethal.

"I’d watch your mouth if i were you, I can buy this café and have you sleeping on the streets by the end of the week."

Adam stiffened, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t move. He didn’t flinch. He just held Jungkook’s gaze, a storm brewing behind his eyes.

Jungkook let the threat hang in the air for a moment before stepping back. His expression smoothed out into something almost indifferent, like none of this had even mattered to him. Then, just as he reached the door, he paused.

Turning his head slightly, he locked eyes with me, his stare unreadable yet piercing, sending a chill down my spine.

"I’ll see you around."

And with that, he walked out, the door swinging shut behind him with a finality that didn’t sit right in my chest.

I stood there, my heart still hammering against my ribs, my mind scrambling to process what had just happened.

Adam’s voice broke through the tense silence. "Are you okay?"

I swallowed, shaking my head slightly to clear the lingering weight of Jungkook’s gaze. "Yeah, are you?… What did he say to you?"

Adam hesitated. It was brief, almost unnoticeable, but I caught it. His shoulders squared, his expression neutral as he shook his head. "Nothing. Don’t worry about it."

"Are you sure?" I frowned, unconvinced, but before I could press him further, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Go home, AJ. Get some rest."

I exhaled slowly, nodding. But as I grabbed my things and stepped outside into the night, the feeling in my chest didn’t go away. Because no matter how hard I tried to push it down, I couldn’t shake the weight of Jungkook’s words.

I’ll see you around.

Jungkook’s POV:

The city stretched endlessly beneath him, a dazzling maze of neon lights and restless movement, but Jungkook barely noticed any of it. The vibrant skyline, usually a source of comfort or distraction, felt distant and detached, a blur of colors that failed to hold his attention. Instead, his gaze remained locked on his own reflection in the towering floor-to-ceiling window of his hotel suite, the faint glow of the city casting sharp angles across his tired features. His dark eyes, usually sharp and unreadable, were clouded with frustration, his brows drawn together in a tight furrow as his thoughts spiraled in endless circles.

Dressed in nothing but a loosely tied robe, his skin still warm from the shower he had taken in an attempt to clear his mind, he stood rigid, his arms crossed tightly over his chest as if physically holding himself together. Every muscle in his body was strung tight with pent-up frustration, his jaw clenching so hard it ached. His chest rose and fell in slow, controlled breaths, but it did little to quell the storm brewing inside him. The events of the night replayed over and over in his mind, each moment fueling his anger, his regret, his overwhelming sense of helplessness.

Then, as if the weight of it all suddenly became unbearable, he let out a sharp, guttural groan, his hands raking down his face before falling limply to his sides. His fingers twitched as he exhaled heavily, his shoulders sagging slightly under the crushing pressure of emotions he had spent too long trying to suppress.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his voice rough and edged with frustration, the word tasting bitter on his tongue. It wasn’t enough to encapsulate everything he was feeling—not even close—but it was the only thing that managed to escape his lips. The only thing that felt remotely within his control.

He was an idiot. A complete fucking idiot. He’d flown across the world to see her, to try and make things right, and yet the second he was in front of her, all he’d done was let his anger and jealousy take control. He hadn’t said the things that mattered. He hadn’t told her what she actually needed to hear. Instead, he’d pushed, provoked, and now? Now she was slipping further away.

His fingers rubbed at his tired eyes as he exhaled sharply, racking his brain for something—anything—that could fix this. What could he do? Buy her something? No, she wasn’t the type to be won over by gifts. Show up at her place again? No, she’d just shut the door in his face. Apologize?

Jaw tight, he rubbed at his eyes, trying to force his thoughts into something coherent. There had to be something he could do, some way to shift things back in his favor. Apologies weren’t enough, and words alone wouldn’t fix this—not after everything. He needed more than that.

His fingers drummed restlessly against the edge of the desk, his mind racing. And then, as if the answer had been lurking just beneath the surface, a thought took hold.

Slowly, his hand stilled. His expression hardened, resolve settling into his features as he reached for his phone. His fingers moved without hesitation, finding the number he needed. The line rang twice before a voice picked up on the other end, casual and expectant.

Jungkook’s grip on the phone tightened.

"I need you to do one more thing for me," Jungkook said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

There was a pause, followed by a low chuckle. "I’m all ears, man."

Jungkook inhaled slowly, his grip tightening around the phone. "I need you to get me someone’s phone number. You think you can do that?"

The person on the other end let out an amused laugh. "Give me ten minutes tops. Whose number we talking about?"

Jungkook gave the name.

There was a beat of silence before the response came. "I’m on it."

As the call ended, Jungkook set his phone down on the desk, exhaling slowly. His fingers drummed against the surface, his mind racing with possibilities. This was a risk. A long shot.

But as he stared back out at the glowing city below, he muttered under his breath, "This better work."

Jade’s POV:

Jade’s heels clicked sharply against the floor as she stormed into her office, her pulse already quickening with irritation. The tension in her jaw was palpable as she flung her coat over the back of the chair, her gaze hard and unyielding.

“Where is he?” she demanded, her voice cutting through the air like a knife. Her eyes were trained on the secretary, who was standing nervously at the edge of the doorway, her fingers twisting in her hands.

The secretary hesitated, her breath hitching in her throat. “H-He went to London, ma’am,” she stuttered, her voice shaky under the weight of Jade’s intense gaze.

Jade’s brows furrowed, her fingers curling into tight fists at her sides. “London?” she repeated, her tone colder than ice. The secretary nodded, her eyes darting downward.

“Y-Yes, he said he had some business to take care of.”

Jade’s lips curled into a tight smirk, but it was more a gesture of disdain than anything resembling amusement. She crossed her arms over her chest, the slow hum of annoyance settling deep within her chest.

“Well, then, I guess I’ll deal with this myself,” she muttered under her breath before addressing the secretary once more, her voice dripping with venom. “Get out of my sight.”

The secretary’s eyes widened in fear as she scrambled to gather her things, fumbling as she rushed to leave. Jade didn’t even spare her a second glance, her mind already shifting into a different gear as she took a seat at her desk. She crossed her legs slowly, her heels tapping rhythmically against the polished wood of the desk beneath her.

Her gaze flicked down to her hands as she rested them on the surface, the tap of her finger against the desk breaking the silence. She was irritated, yes, but she knew she wasn’t powerless. No one ever got the best of her, not for long. And Jungkook... Jungkook would realize just how much he needed her. He always did.

“London, huh?” she muttered to herself with a smirk, her eyes narrowing. She leaned back in her chair, watching the light glint off the smooth surface of her desk. Her mind was already working, a plan forming in the back of her head, a strategy for getting exactly what she wanted.

Without missing a beat, she reached for her phone, dialing a number she knew all too well. She brought the phone to her ear, her eyes dark and calculating. The moment the line clicked, she spoke with cool precision. “You better have everything under control.” she said, her voice cold and authoritative.

The voice on the other end responded with quiet assurance. “Don’t worry, I do.”

Jade’s lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She was playing a game, and she was going to make sure it went her way. “Keep her in check,” she commanded, her voice low but firm. “I don’t want him slipping up.”

There was a brief pause before the voice spoke again, more assured this time. “I am.”

Jade’s lips curled into a slow smile, but there was nothing pleasant about it. It was the smile of someone who knew they had the upper hand. “Good,” she murmured, satisfaction threading through her voice. Her eyes flickered with something darker. “Oh and don’t forget, blood’s thicker than water. You get too close, and I’ll remind you of that. Your loyalty has its limits, but mine is unwavering.”

She leaned forward, her gaze intense, her fingers curling around the phone. “Finish this,” she added, her tone laced with finality.

Without waiting for a response, Jade ended the call, her smile lingering—cold, calculating—as she slowly leaned back in her chair. Her fingers drummed thoughtfully against the armrest, the faintest hint of satisfaction curling at the edges of her lips. Jungkook might have convinced himself that he was taking control, that he was running off to do things his way—but she knew better. She’d played this game far too long to let anyone, least of all a pathetic little designer, help Jungkook slip through her fingers. The pieces were in motion, and she’d make sure they both stayed within bounds.

[rxbelling-hxrald]

'One.....two.....three.....four?' Four more smoke bombs is what he could feel as the one slow hand explored his pocket, the entire time he continued to stare up at the jackal, listening to them gloat and show off their prowess. Even if it was intimidating the entire attitude just further pissed the freedom fighter off.

If nothing else at least this brief conversation was keeping those other reinforcing bots from firing.

"We weren't worth your time huh? Then what changed?" He'd respond, doing little to hide his disgust for them. "Got fed up of torturing civilians? Or did your loss at that factory actually cause you to reconsider?" It might have seemed like he was full of a bravery and bravado, but it was more like plain arrogance as inside Dan's chest his heart was painfully pounding from the innate panic he felt rising.

Slightly moving the hand at his pocket again, he'd raise it up behind him with four fingers stretched out, in hopes Johnny behind him would know what he's hinting at, if there was going to be a time or signal to try making an escape with the bombs, He'd wait for when he knew Johnny or the team would try to make a move.

Even if that too also seemed impossible to coordinate with the team split up and unable to directly communicate without it being obvious.

"More like stand down and live, until your done trying to get information out of us. then you'll get rid of us anyway....don't insult us with lies." Remembering what he saw this masked menace doing to those prisoners the last time they met, he sorely doubted there would be any form of mercy shown even if they did comply with the demand.

Maybe just playing with the flames so to speak would be enough to get something free though. This did all start from that past mission, maybe using that petty anger could be used to make it more...acceptable? Johnny and the others were a lot more important to the resistance than just a soldier like him. "Let the others go....and I'll stand down."

{➹} – THOSE ON THE TOWER had frozen, at least for a moment. All eyes were wide staring at the craft, but fear was quick to wash over the trio, and in no one was that more obvious than Porker. Amy had tensed, her grip on her weapon shaking, and Tekno was only just able to remind herself that they had a job to do. And they had to do it now more than ever. She cursed under her breath but quickly turned back to her task.

She only needed a few more minutes. Time she knew they may not have now.

Johnny had taken to baring his teeth, the urge to run prevalent, but he couldn't leave Dan there alone. He couldn't leave without making sure everyone got a chance to leave, and he knew that was impossible. The rabbit, too, remained firm but the feeling rising in his chest was nothing short of anxious.

The giant machine looming above them and the black and white character who slowly floated from it to the ground in front of the hedgehog and rabbit wasn't helping. Now that they had a better understanding of how the canine worked, albeit only slightly, Johnny knew they were in serious trouble. His weapon was brandished, but he did move beyond that for the moment, only noting Dan's hand slipping into their pocket while their enemy seemed to sneer.

"Is that how you see it? You rodents just weren't worth my time before." Their voice was teeming with an odd pleasure, a single hand raised where ruby cubes started to dance above it. A shameless display of their powers. "You didn't really think this would work? That we would let you reach out to the rest of your hopeless flock?"

'We' was quite obviously the jackal and the rest of the machines around them, all of whom had their sights set on The Resistance members, mostly via weapon.

"If you stand down, I may let you live."

[dailymanners]

Always use "excuse me" if you have to get into someone else's personal space.

Someone at the store is standing in front of the shelf where there's a can you want to grab? Don't just reach into their personal space without warning, say "excuse me" or "pardon my reach" first so that they at least have a warning that someone is about to reach into their personal space, and most importantly, so that they have a chance to move before you get into their space.

Or if someone is standing on a walkway or in a doorway you need to get through, don't just silently shove past them or squeeze past them, say "excuse me" so that they have a warning that a someone is about to squeeze or shove into their personal space, and they have a chance to move out of the way before you do you.

People deserve a fair warning if someone is about to squeeze or shove or reach into their personal space. A lot of people are not okay with having someone, but especially a stranger, randomly shove or squeeze or reach into their personal space without warning. They also deserve a chance to move out of the way first for the sake of their comfort.

Try to avoid just staring at people who are in your way and expecting them to read your mind that you want them to move. Most people cannot, in fact, read minds, so having someone stand in front of them and stare at them often only leads to making them feel uncomfortable and frustrated.

But also more importantly, if you are standing somewhere someone needs to get to, and they say excuse me, you should move aside for them even if just temporarily, so they can avoid the discomfort of having to reach into your personal space or squeeze past you.

If someone is saying "excuse me" it's because they would like you to move because they don't want to have to get into your personal space, whether it's out of respect for you, or just because they themselves are not comfortable getting in your personal space.

All of this goes double for people with trauma and/or people who are neurodivergent. If someone has trauma related to abuse or assault they may find it more upsetting or possibly triggering to suddenly have someone shoving or reaching in their personal space without warning.

Or, many types of neurodivergence can make it especially disturbing and unpleasant to have someone else in your personal space, especially without warning.

You can never be 100% sure who is and isn't traumatized and/or neurodivergent, so always practice respecting other's personal space by giving them a fair warning with "excuse me" or "pardon my reach" before getting in their personal space, and moving aside when you hear those magic words. Or, even if someone isn't traumatized nor neurodivergent, it's still fair to not like someone in your personal space without warning and not being given the opportunity to move first.

[webism]

pornstar!toji who is known for being easy with his scenes. he's there for a good fuck and an even better paycheck: it doesn't matter who, or where, or how... if he's being paid he will do it. he doesn't mind getting nasty, and so he's often booked for more exotic scenes. he fucks good, and he fucks a lot.

pornstar!toji who is strapped for cash one week after an unfortunate loss on the horses, and takes the first scene offered to him. a vanilla fuck with a new-to-the-scene pornstar with potential... at least that's what his agent, shiu, tells him. he's confused on what potential he's hinting at until he rocks up ten minutes late to the shoot and lays eyes on you, already naked and on the stage bed. you have a look to you that makes a man like toji feel obliged to drop to his knees.

pornstar!toji who is already harder than he has been in a long time when shiu clarifies that when he called you 'new to the scene' he meant it: this is your first porn shoot. and though you're not a virgin, toji has the honour of taking your first time on camera... and god does he love the thought.

pornstar!toji who is greeted with a small smile and a soft 'hello' from you, shy beneath his gaze as if you aren't naked and soon to be stuffed full of his cock. he watches your eyes shift, from his piercing eyes to his beautifully scarred lip to the gorgeous tone of his body, all the way down to his awfully large cock. he can tell you're nervous, worried about taking all of him on film.

pornstar!toji who isnt good with gentle comforts, but still wants you to feel at ease with him. so, despite his instructions for a simple fuck scene, toji attacks you with deep kisses first, gets you used to the burning heat of his body against yours. and when you're melted enough against his skin he trails down and eats you out for a long twenty minutes. production would try and stop him, but he's already tipsy on your taste and the moans leaving your lips are, frankly, made for porn.

pornstar!toji who revels in the way your back arches off the mattress—he'd accuse you of putting on a show for the cameras if your hips weren't bucking up against his face in an almost primal need. he can taste it on you, the genuine lust, the way you drip wet on his tongue and still grab at his hair for more. and when he gives you more—when he finally slips his cock into you—he can't help himself from groaning out something needy. he's the silent type, letting his costar take center stage, but god can he not keep quiet feeling your walls wrapped around him.

pornstar!toji who has never had an issue with porn before, but with your legs wrapped around his waist, your eyes locked onto his as he pumps in and out of you with white hot need, he finds he hates the thought of anyone else seeing you like this. he's not a possessive man, he shouldn't feel this way, but he does. even the watchful stares of the cameramen piss him off, and he finds his hips moving faster and his cock nestling deeper inside of you just to show them that he's the one pleasing you.

pornstar!toji who can't help but kiss you as you both cum in unison. he ruins the shot, the cameras cant see your orgasm face when he's swallowing your moans like they're sweet wine. he's surprised his pay doesn't get cut for it.

when pornstar!toji does get paid, it's the first cheque in a very long time that he doesn't blow the same night it comes through. because he doesn't have time to go out and waste his money: he's at home fucking his fist to the film you made together and mentally degrading himself for being so pussy whipped. he strokes himself in time with his own thrusts in the video, and tries so desperately to recall your taste on his tongue, but its fruitless. he's agitated and sexually frustrated and keeps reloading your personal pages to see if you've filmed with anyone since him.

pornstar!toji who becomes so lost in his own mind that he starts turning down shoots with other actors—shoots with good pay. he's done everything under the sun, done all the hardcore porn and weird fetish content but now that he's gotten a fresh taste of plain passion sex with you, he can't stomach anything else. he'd say your name, he knows it—and it doesn't help that he hasn't been able to reach orgasm for a week without thinking of you.

pornstar!toji who, after three weeks of pure misery, decides to make a move. he doesn't do dates or romantic nights on the town. he doesn't do flowers or sweet nothings or eye contact even, but he finds himself contacting shiu and threatening the poor man in hopes of your real name, your address, anything.

and you, late one evening fucking yourself on your fingers to the brink of frustrated tears because they're not his cock. even more disgruntled when theres a pounding knock at your front door, and after cleaning yourself up a little you swing it open to find pornstar!toji stood in the rain outside. and you can only take him in—his heavy build and desperate eyes—before he's crashing his lips against yours, walking you into your own home and kicking the door shut behind him.

[gojosprettyprincess]

BESTFRIEND SATORU HELPING YOU COPE WITH YOUR BREAKUP!!

Tw - Degradation n praising, Satoru likes you. Not proofread. I hate this sm and it was rushed but oh well

ଘ ੭ ✩‧₊˚

You made your best effort to compose yourself, attempting to suppress the sobs that threatened to overwhelm you as you gently rapped on the sturdy wooden door looming in front of you. Hastily trying to put yourself together before you were met with Satoru’s familiar, handsome face.

His eyes gleamed with excitement as soon as he caught sight of you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

"What are you doing here so late babe, Shouldn't you be uhhh—having boring phone sex with your little boyfriend?" he quipped—his playful chuckle hinting with pride and maybe even jealousy laced with it.

His expression quickly changed to concernment when he saw the tears escaping your eye line. Instantly, his face softened and he moved closer, gently gripping your shoulders to get you to look at him.

"Woah, are you okay, sweetheart? Did something happen?", he asked worriedly as warm tears streamed down your face, he gently moved one of his hands to the back of your head, guiding your face into his chest for a tight embrace.

"What happened? C'mon, talk to me" he softly mumbled, feeling your sobs resonating against his chest, you sniffled and finally broke down, "No Satoru, He cheated! he fucking cheated on me—I don’t know what to do”. You gripped onto his shirt tightly as you held onto him.

His mouth gaped in shock and anger as he hugged you impossibly closer, The scent of his minty cologne enveloped you, clouding your thoughts and senses as you continued to cry in his arms.

“What??? I'm so sorry sweetheart, knew that fucking prick didn't deserve you—I'm so fucking sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?"

___

“Ahh, shit gonna lose my fucking mind in this tight pussy.” he lets out a throaty groan that resonated in the air.

Pure sweat glistened from his body, his biceps, his chest, his back—all fucking sticky and damp almost as if he was working out— well it coulddd count as a workout, technically.

“No fucking way, that dumb fucker cheated on this”, he gasped, anger coursing through him as his hand instinctively gripped onto the headboard for stability while he loses himself to the warmth of your soppy pussy compressing the life out of his cock, each squeeze pulling him deeper into your core.

His white bangs stuck to his forehead as the ends tickled his face with dampness. You mewled loudly as your face distorted with unanticipated pleasure—Pleasure that you'd never thought you could ever felt before, until this day.

He had you folded in a fucked-up mating press—insisting that the closer he is to you, the better he'd be able to comfort you.

“Fuckk! Toruu~” you moaned pornographically, your toes involuntarily curling against his toned back as your knees knocked against your bouncing tits.

His beaming blue eyes piercing through you feverishly as he stared down at you—his face just mere inches away from yours. "Fuck yeahh, moan my fucking name just like that sweetheart, that's right. I'm the one pounding this perfect little pussy” he purrs softly, smirking as drool escapes your lips.

Of course, he was unhappy and worried to see his poor best friend miserable because of the breakup. But deep down, a part of him felt…relieved?

It's not like that dumb, immature scrawny bitch could ever give you what he has to offer.

Never, Never never never. You deserved better, way better. Someone like him…

“Mmm Fuckkk, Satoruuu. stretching me s’good” you cried out in pure ecstasy as the tip of his cock rubs against your g-spot so rawly and naturally in a way that felt heavenly —your boyfriend was never able to find it.

“Yeah? You like me splitting open this pretty pussy with my cock? When was the last time you had a good fucking like this, babe?” Satoru laughed breathlessly, his cock throbbing with each thrusts.

The bed sinking as a result from his weight as he bullied his hefty cock into you—fucking you absolutely dumb, deeper into his mattress.

Your glassy eyes were now obscured by a hazy blur, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins as your eyes rolled back—Satoru thought the sight of you like this was so so beautiful. Seeing his precious little best friend whom he loveee so much getting dumbed down from his dick etched something primal in him.

His mouth gaped slightly as he moaned, his eyes full of desire and passion. He brought his face closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin before he smashed his lips onto yours.

His mouth completely devouring you as the both of you moaned in unison, lost in the intensity of the kiss—your tongues tangling together as your tummy fluttered in excitement.

His skin stuck to yours disgustingly as your boobs bounced against his chest, your fingers laced through his hair. The sensation made him groan before he eventually pulled away from the passionate kiss.

He quickly switched positions, hauling your body closer to him so your ass could slowly be arched up—resting against his thighs as he pounded your sloppy, messy cunt at the deeper angle.

A rhythmic series of “Hahhh!” fills the room—almost like a chant of pleasure escaping his lips as his gaze is fixated on where the two of you were connected—his cock completely disappearing inside your warm core at the snap of his hips as his snowy pubic hair lightly nudges against the sensitive bud of your arousal.

“This pussy is taking me in so well, fuck he could never—dunno why you were even with him–nghh! in the first place” he emphasizes on the last word with a deep, hard powerful thrust.

“I could treat ya so much better than he ever did sweetheart, better forget about him—don't ever wanna see you crying that fucker again” he smirks down at fucked out face—so cute and pretty all clumsy from his cock.

Thick balls slapping against your asshole as your slick coats both of them, forming a slippery layer that gradually dripped down onto his sheets.

“Or don't worry, heh—i’ll just fuck you into a brainless little slut, that'll surely make you forget about him” he laughs out. His tongue dragging against his lips as his fingers kneads into the soft flesh of your thighs.

Your eyes rolled back uncontrollably to his words, it was obvious to you that Satoru had a little crush on you for a while now and fucking hated your boyfriend but hearing him actually vocalizing his feelings in such a vulnerable, intimate moment made you lose your mind.

His lengthy cock dug into your pussy in such a mean manner in the new angle—his relentless thrusts hitting your cervix over and over, making your pussy overflowing with juices all over his dick, facilitating to force his dick into you.

You squealed, feeling his finger suddenly rubbing fast circles on your clit—causing your inner walls to flutter around his shaft in a euphoric response to the new wave of pleasure that surged through your body.

“Mmmfp! Yesyesyes! don't stop, s’close” you exclaimed, your fingers tightly clasping onto the sheets to anchor yourself.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my dick baby?” He inquires with a toothy grin, his bicep muscles prominently bulging, emphasizing his toned physique as his abs flexes because of the angle. Giving you the most delicious view of his body.

“Yes! Ahh, Toruuu” Your eyebrows furrowed together as you felt your orgasm approaching. Your body trembled in ecstasy. The feeling of good sex was so so refreshing to you that you started questioning yourself why you weren’t with Satoru instead in the first place?. He was charming, rich, and funny—despite his annoying personality and teasing, he was almost perfect, but maybe because you two have been best friends for all those years, you just haven’t thought about him like that.

Before you knew it, milky white rings coated his cock—overlaying every inch of his shaft and painting his balls. “Mmmmm!” You breathe heavily, almost losing your mind as you watched Satoru’s eyes roll back at the feeling of you messing up his dick.

“Yessss, that’s it baby—God, fuck, making such a pretty mess all over me” he tried to keep his composure but he miserably failed, he just fucking couldn't, hell he couldn’t even pull out quick enough before spurting his hot cum directly into your womb, making loud squelching noises filling the room as his warm, sticky cum overflowed out of your pussy.

It was so so messy, there’s no way there wasn’t a big wet patch of cum below the two of you.

“So do ya prefer our date being tomorrow or the day after—I’d prefer tomorrow because I’m not working, plus I wanna take you out as soon as possible,” he said in a cheery, out-of-breath tone, managing to catch you off guard as if he wasn’t still balls deep inside of you.

“Seriously Satoru? We can discuss this later” you muttered with a hint of annoyance—causing him to pout in response before picking up your upper body to sit on his lap—cockwarming him.

He pulled you into a sweet, passionate kiss—his hands groping your ass as you tangled your fingers through his hair.

“Fineee” he playfully whispered—you giggled lowly, feeling his smile forming against your lips as he held you close.

[slttygeto]

YOU SAY IT’S BIG, BUT YOU TAKE IT — SUGURU GETO.

જ⁀➴ content warning: pwp, riding, fem!reader, suguru has a big dick<3, reader struggles to ride him at first, he’s sweet and patient, big dick suguru once again<3, hint of a size kink, spanking, very light nipple play.

જ⁀➴ note: consider this an apology for the gut wrenching angst i posted yesterday. it’s 2am rn and i should be asleep but instead im feeding u guys this v self indulgent smut. enjoy<3

suguru loves when you suggest to ride him. you look eager as you straddle his lap, the love bites he littered all over your thighs giving him a sense of pride as he brushes his thumb over them. his free hand reaches for your ass cheek and kneads the skin before slapping it, and there’s a smile on his face when he sees you jolt in surprise.

taking suguru’s dick was a challenge in itself, he always prepped you with his thick fingers and made sure you were a weeping mess before getting to fuck your brains out. but tonight, you were feeling especially confident. despite his cock sitting on his stomach heavy and leaking pre-cum, the sheer size of it didn’t intimidate you. you can take it.

“think you can take it?” his voice sounds playful, and the grin plastered on his face makes your cheeks flush. the way he was staring at you made your heart skip a beat. so full of love and adoration, as though he wasn’t splitting you open on his cock a few moments ago.

but his loving stare doesn’t last long. both of his hands rest on your ass, and they deliver a harsh smack to the skin which makes you jolt forward. suguru captures one of your breasts in his mouth, and you sigh out when his tongue glides over your hardened nipple. he pulls away with a hum, a string of saliva attached to his lips and your thumb wipes it off.

“c’mon pretty girl, show me what you can do.” the praise is enough to make your pussy flutter. your hand reaches down to grab his cock, and your thighs shake a little as you stand up straight to position the tip of him against your folds.

you quietly hiss when the tip goes past your folds, the intrusion a little painful. suguru takes notice of your struggle and presses a sweet kiss to your shoulder, removing a hand from your ass to gently thumb at your clit.

“there you go—easy, eaaasy,” he whispers, his eyes locked on your face while you’re busy staring down at where your pussy and his cock meet. you don’t notice how his eyes are blown out with lust at the sight of you trying to take his cock, his heart fluttering in his chest because fuck—his dick was big for you, but you were giving it your whole mainly for his pleasure.

and when you finally manage to get the rest of him inside you, suguru is almost sure he just saw heaven. his head is thrown back and his eyes roll to the back of his head. you gasp at the same time, your pussy clenching hard around his cock that he hisses and grips your ass.

“shit— baby, you gotta move.” he sounds out of breath, his forehead is sweaty and the dark strands of his hair are sticking to the flushed skin of his face. he looks absolutely mesmerizing, that your pussy flutters again at the sight.

“fuck—“ you listen to him and lift up your hips, before slamming your ass back down. you repeat the same movement a couple of times, but each time is a little more intense as suguru grabs your face and forces you to keep your eyes on him.

he is manspreading on the couch and you ride him within an inch of your life, the fucked out look on both of your faces looks straight up pornographic. your moans are short but loud, eyebrows furrowed in concentration when you see the way his eyes start to unfocus.

you were fucking geto suguru stupid on your couch.

you lean towards him and wrap your arms around his neck, your pace faltering a little when your lips meet his neck. you think you can bring him to an orgasm first, you’re almost convinced that he was about to let go.

until his hands grip your waist, and you pull away from his neck to stare at him. one of his hands rests on the back of your head and pushes it down so that your foreheads meet, and while you’re a panting mess, suguru still manages to mutter a few words.

“eyes on me, yeah?“ you don’t respond immediately. you can’t, because he plants his feet on the ground and starts to thrust up into you at a brutal pace. you are grateful that his arm was holding you in place, otherwise you would’ve lost complete balance on his lap.

the tip of his cock brushes against that one spot over and over again, and suguru watches as your eyes gloss over with tears and your pretty lips purse—you are so close, suguru felt a sense of pride to be able to make you look this fucked out.

it only takes him a couple of thrusts before you are cumming around him with a loud cry, your body shuddering and shaking against him like a leaf. you moan as you come down from your orgasm, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you completely melt on him. you let him fuck into you for a few more seconds before he’s emptying himself inside you with a loud grunt.

your bodies are sweaty and sticky, but you still manage to kiss each other when you finally catch your breath. the kiss is sweet and you giggle as you pull away.

“that was good.” you say, wiggling a little on suguru’s lap until he hisses and lightly smacks your ass.

“behave.” his tone is playful, and his rubs soothing circles on the skin of your bottom. “but yeah, it was so good.”

↴⤷✮ i am so normal about him.

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[parkerslatte]

Different

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

Summary: Ever since Feyre arrived at Velaris, they have only ever known Azriel a stoic and mostly serious. But once his wife comes home, she sees a different side to him.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Feyre watched as Azriel stood by the window. His shadows moved over his shoulders and around his ear as if whispering something to him. The expression on Azriel’s face was his same neutral one that only ever seemed to change the smallest amount. And only ever in the presence of the Inner Circle and even then there would only be a small hint of a smile. 

It was late at night and everyone was enjoying a relaxing night with a few bottles of Rhys’s expensive alcohol. So far, Azriel hadn’t moved from his place at the window, his back was rigid as if he was expecting something, though that was the only indicator that he was. His face was his usual stoicism, giving nothing away. 

“Az, are you ever going to get away from that window anytime soon?” Cassian complained. 

Azriel turned his attention to Cassian and scowled. “I’m busy.”

“Not busy enough to spend time with the people you love,” Cassian teased. 

“Az, sit down, you won’t miss anything,” Rhys chimed in. 

With a final look through the window, Azriel walked over to the rest of the Inner Circle and sat in the armchair. His back was tense and he was not fully relaxed. Ever since Feyre had known him he had always been somewhat alert to everything. 

While everyone continues with the card game, Feyre couldn’t help but pay more attention to Azriel than to the game. Like Feyre, Azriel didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the game either. Instead he stared at the table in front of him completely lost in thought. 

Elain, who was sitting on the floor beside Mor, looked up to Azriel. “It’s your turn,” she said. 

“Oh,” Azriel said before picking a card out of his hand and placing it on top of the pile. 

“That isn’t a card you can even put on top,” Cassian complained. 

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Does it matter? You change the rules when you’re losing anyway.”

“I do not!” Cassian exclaimed. “I take this game seriously.”

“Until you are losing,” Nesta mumbled under her breath. 

Cassian began to argue back, clearly becoming outnumbered in his argument. Feyre only watched on with amusement. 

However everything was quickly interrupted by a new voice, one Feyre had never heated before, cut through the argument. 

“I leave you all alone for a few years and everything goes to shit?” 

Everything goes silent as everyone stares at the beautiful female who had just entered the room. Before Feyre could even process everything, Azriel threw his cards back down on the table and rushed up to the female.

The female giggled in delight as Azriel’s arms wrapped around her and swung her around. Feyre looked at her two sisters, each of them held the same expression she did. Confusion. 

What shocked Feyre the most about the situation was the bright and wide smile stretching across Azriel’s face. She had only noticed now that he had dimples. 

“I missed you so much,” Azriel mumbled. 

“It has only been a few months for you,” the female replied. 

“That is too long for me. I always wish for you to be next to me,” Azriel replied and pressed his lips against the females. His arms circled her waist, making sure there wasn’t a single gap between their bodies. The female threaded her fingers through his hair, causing Azriel to sigh in delight. Feyre couldn’t help but feel surprised by this display of affection from Azriel. 

Feyre leaned back against Rhys. “Who is that?”

“Azriel’s mate and wife,” Rhys answered.

“What?” Feyre exclaimed. “None of you have ever mentioned her before.”

“That was Azriel’s decision,” Rhys replied, filling up his glass. “You see, Y/N works as a researcher all over the continent for me so she is rarely ever here so none of us can protect her. Azriel has made a lot of enemies over the years and if he were tied to her, she could be put in even more danger.”

“When was the last time they saw each other?” Elain interjected. 

“For Azriel a few months ago,” Rhys answered. “Those two weeks just before Solstice when Azriel wasn’t here, he was on the continent with her.”

Feyre watched as Azriel buried his head into Y/N’s  neck, holding her against him tightly. Feyre smiled at the sight. 

“It has been at least two years since the rest of us have last seen Y/N,” Cassian chimed in. “It would be nice of her to greet the rest of us.”

Y/N pulled away from Azriel to smile at everyone else. “Give me a break, Cass. If you were to go without a hug from your mate in a few months, you wouldn't be jumping to greet everyone else first.”

“She knows about us?” Nesta asked. 

Cassian nodded. “Whenever Azriel meets up with her, she always asks about you all. Apparently she has been excited to meet you all.” 

Feyre watched as Azriel and Y/N walked over to join the group. Azriel’s gaze never left Y/N for a single second. Feyre’s gaze shifted down to their joined hands. She hid her smile behind her glass. 

Y/N quickly greeted Rhys, Cassian and Mor with a hug and she gave a small nod to Amren. 

Azriel sat down on the armchair first and as Y/N was about to sit in the arm of it, Azriel pulled her down so she sat in his lap instead. His arms locked around her waist as his chin rested on her shoulder. Feyre was sure she had never seen him look so happy before, so at ease. The smile on his face was one Feyre had never seen. 

“It is great to finally meet you three,” Y/N said, her gaze flicking between Feyre, Nesta and Elain. “This one here,” she said, reaching to cup Azriel’s cheek, “has told me a lot about you.”

“It is great to meet you,” Feyre said with a smile. 

“So now that introductions have finished,” Cassian begins, “can we get back to the game now? I was about to win.”

“Is that because you changed the rules halfway through the game?” Y/N teased. 

Cassian rolled his eyes. “You know what, Y/N. I don’t think I missed you at all.”

Y/N chuckled. “We both know that’s a lie.”

Azriel laughed along with Y/N and placed a soft kiss to her shoulder. He looked completely different to the stoic and serious shadowsinger Feyre was used to. With Y/N, Azriel seemed like a completely different person. The tension had vanished from his body and his shadows, which were once sliding over his shoulders, were now caressing Y/N legs and arms. One of his hands caressed her thigh while the other threaded with hers. Feyre could see the goosebumps appear on Y/N’s skin wherever he caressed. 

Azriel whispered something into Y/N’s ear which caused her to turn to him, smiling wide, her lips hovering just above his. The glimmer in Azriel’s eyes was prominent as he looked at her. It was as if she hung the stars. There was so much love and tenderness in his eyes that it could only be described as something out of a romance novel. She had never seen him look so at ease before. It was if everything else had melted away and the only thing left was Y/N.

Feyre couldn’t help but feel giddy at the sight. 

“How long have they been mates for?” Feyre asked Rhys. 

“Nearly three hundred years,” Rhys replied, wrapping an arm around Feyre. “They have been married for longer, the bond snapped nearly fifty years after they were married.”

“They seem happy,” Feyre said, her eyes not shifting from where Azriel and Y/N sat. 

Rhys smiled at his two friends, friends he considered family. “They are. Azriel is always his happiest when Y/N is around. He always has been ever since they met.”

“Why does she go away for long periods of time?” Feyre questioned. “It feels like torture when I’m away from you for too long. I cannot imagine being mates to someone for three hundred years and only being able to see them every few months.”

“That is the way it has been through their whole relationship,” Rhys explains. “They both knew what each other did for a job and neither of them wanted the other to give it up.” 

“How long is she back for this time?” Feyre asked. 

“I hadn’t asked,” Rhys said. “But I have a small feeling she will be here for a while this time.”

Feyre frowned. “How so?”

“Because if I know anything about Y/N, it is that she would never decline a glass of my finest wine and so far she has declined every glass Mor has offered her,” Rhys observed. 

Feyre looked at Rhys excitedly. “Does that mean—?”

Rhys smiled. “They haven’t said anything so I assume that they wish to keep the news between them for a little while longer.”

Feyre smiled over at Y/N and Azriel. She caught Y/N’s eye. The beautiful female only sent a wink Feyre’s way, a clear indication that she had overheard her and Rhys’s conversation. 

“Az, it’s your turn,” Nesta said. 

Azriel throws all of his cards onto the table. “I think I am done for the night.”

Cassian groaned . “Really?”

“Really,” Azriel said. “I want to spend time with my gorgeous mate and wife.”

Cassian chuckled. “That is only an excuse because you are losing,” the general teased. 

Azriel rolled his eyes and swooped Y/N up in his arms. Her arms locked around his neck. “If you need us— actually don’t even try to contact us at all.”

Y/N threw her head back and laughed as Azriel carried her out of the room. Feyre could hear them laughing loudly even when the door was firmly closed behind them. Feyre leaned into Rhys and linked her fingers with his.

“I am happy for them,” Feyre said, her eyes staring at the door where Azriel and Y/N had left. 

Rhys kissed the top of Feyre’s head. “Me too.”

[fairyysoup]

easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again. 

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever. 

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you. 

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world. 

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing. 

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you. 

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you. 

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt. 

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture. 

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough. 

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you. 

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him. 

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else. 

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me. 

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.” 

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?” 

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.” 

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.” 

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur. 

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear. 

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?” 

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.” 

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t. 

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now. 

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected. 

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin. 

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier. 

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate. 

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is? 

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet. 

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window. 

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes. 

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins. 

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?” 

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now. 

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder. 

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again. 

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan. 

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs. 

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue. 

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief. 

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.” 

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.” 

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it. 

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again. 

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you. 

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap. 

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness. 

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head. 

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it. 

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does. 

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down. 

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet. 

To keep you quiet. 

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.” 

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table. 

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other. 

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss. 

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear. 

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

[sushiyuzu]

emotional support

warning: fluff + tension — your boobs become soft!sylus’ emotional support 🙈 [ x fem!reader ]

- second acc: @blushpawss

you were relaxing on the bed after a long day, scrolling through your phone absentmindedly, when you heard the door creak open. without looking, you knew it was sylus. you could tell by the way he moved, the quiet confidence in his steps, the aura he carried everywhere he went.

“hey,” you greeted softly, glancing up at him with a small smile. “everything okay?”

he didn’t respond right away. instead, he just stood at the edge of the bed, his usual stoic expression fixed on his face. crimson eyes locked on you, but there was something softer in them, something vulnerable he rarely showed.

before you could ask again, he moved. in one swift motion, he climbed onto the bed, gently pushing you back until you were lying down. his movements were deliberate, yet there was no urgency—just a quiet need.

“sylus?” you asked, your voice holding a hint of confusion as he positioned himself on top of you, his head resting squarely between your boobs.

“don’t,” he murmured against your chest, his voice slightly muffled by your shirt. “just... let me.”

you blinked, caught off guard by how soft his voice sounded. usually, sylus was the picture of control, always so serious and composed. but right now, he was melting into you, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if you were his lifeline.

“okay,” you whispered, feeling your heart swell with affection. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer. “you wanna talk about it?”

he shook his head, his face completely buried in your chest now. “no. just need this,” he said, his breath warm against your skin. “need you.”

you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was being. despite his tough exterior, sylus always had this soft, clingy side when it came to you. it was a side he didn’t show to anyone else, a side he only let out when he felt safe in your presence.

“rough day?” you asked, your fingers automatically threading through his silver hair, stroking it gently.

“you have no idea,” he muttered, his voice muffled by your chest. “the meetings, the arguments, the constant surveillance... it’s exhausting.”

you chuckled softly. “and i’m your emotional support pillow now?”

“more like emotional support boobs,” he mumbled, pressing his face even deeper between your breasts, his voice filled with that rare, teasing warmth he only used with you. “they’re soft... and they’re mine.”

“oh, they’re yours, huh?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

“absolutely, kitten,” he murmured, his lips brushing lightly against your skin as he spoke. “this is the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

you felt a warm flutter in your chest at his words, your hands continuing their gentle path through his hair. “well, if it helps, you can stay like this as long as you need.”

he didn’t reply right away, but the way his arms tightened around you spoke volumes. sylus was never the type to openly ask for affection, but you could always tell when he needed it. and when he did, he clung to you like this, as if you were his anchor in a world that constantly demanded his strength.

“i don’t deserve you,” he whispered after a long moment, his voice low, almost vulnerable.

you frowned, lightly tugging at his hair to get his attention. “hey, don’t say that.”

he finally lifted his head slightly, just enough to look at you with those intense crimson eyes. there was a flicker of something raw in them, something he rarely let anyone see. “i’m serious,” he said quietly. “you’re too good to me. i don’t know how you put up with me.”

you rolled your eyes, though your heart ached a little at how sincere he sounded. “because i love you, you idiot,” you said, smiling softly as you cupped his cheek. “and you’re not half as bad as you think.”

his gaze softened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, like he was memorizing your face. then, without warning, he dropped his head back down, once again burying his face between your boobs.

“whatever,” he muttered, his voice muffled again. “i’m staying here forever.”

you laughed, your chest shaking as you tried to wiggle beneath him. “sylus, you’re heavy!”

“deal with it,” he grumbled, nuzzling further into you. “this is my safe space now.”

“oh my god,” you groaned, though you were smiling the whole time. “you’re ridiculous.”

he didn’t say anything, but you could feel his lips curve into a small smile against your skin. for a man who always had to be serious and strong in front of others, sylus was the clingiest, neediest person when he was with you. and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“you know,” you said after a moment, “if anyone else saw you like this, they’d never believe it. mr. serious, always-in-control sylus, reduced to a cuddle bug.”

he made a low sound of protest, tightening his hold on you. “don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he mumbled. “this is just for you.”

your heart melted at that. despite all his tough talk, sylus had such a soft spot for you. you were the one person who could break through his walls, the one he trusted with his vulnerable side.

“i’m glad it’s just for me,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “i love this side of you.”

he didn’t say anything, but you felt his fingers gently trace the curve of your waist, his touch light and reverent. for a while, you both just lay there in comfortable silence, his body completely relaxed on top of yours, his face still nestled securely in your chest.

“don’t ever let me go,” he whispered after a long while, his voice soft, almost sleepy.

“never,” you promised, your hands still stroking his hair.

he sighed in contentment, his breathing slowing as he settled more comfortably against you. “good,” he muttered, his voice drowsy now. “i’ll always need you.”

you smiled, feeling a warm glow of happiness spread through you. “and i’ll always be here.”

he nuzzled you one last time before drifting off, completely relaxed and at peace in your arms. and as you held him close, you realized just how much you loved this man—the serious, strong protector everyone else saw, and the soft, affectionate, clingy sylus that only you knew.

[sunnie-angel]

jason todd can’t stop staring at your lips. it’s kind of embarrassing actually, how obsessed he is. he hasn’t even kissed you yet but just the sight of them pulling into a smile, lip balm shiny, is enough to have his head spinning. he thinks it’s adorable when you pout, your lower lip poking out. he wants to know what it would be like to bite it — gently! — until it’s puffy and swollen. he grips the restaurant table so hard it starts to creak when you look up at him through your lashes, mouth wrapped around the straw of your milkshake. stiff as a rock in his jeans and desperate for relief but he can’t because you’re in public and he’s terrified of scaring you off.

he’s so, so embarrassed that sometimes he doesn’t comprehend a single thing you’ve said when you get to rambling because he gets lost in the way your mouth moves. how you form the vowels and the consonants, the barest flick of your tongue against teeth. the hint of a shine when the light hits just right and he gets all wrapped up in thoughts of if you’re wearing gloss or if your lips just naturally look that perfect.

just, jason todd that wants to kiss you so bad and he thinks he’s being soo slick about it when he couldn’t be more obvious if he tried. maybe you’ll let him kiss you tomorrow. if he’s good.