#thank u for sending :plead:

[aevitium]

✧ ˖ @aesthetecomplex asked:

[PAPER KITES] the sun begins its descent now, painting the sky in vibrant shades of orange and pink. wispy clouds catch the dying light, turning a soft shade of lavender as they drift lazily overhead. seabirds glide gracefully on the breeze, their calls mingling with the distant sound of crashing waves. "you seem like you're enjoying yourself," kaveh remarks, his tone pleasant. he joins her on the soft sand, and with a contented smile, the architect leans back, propping himself up on his elbows. he gazes upward at her kite, watching as it twists and twirls with each gust of wind. "what's the inspiration behind your design?"

Attention flits lazily to her company, the already fond smile on her expression curling invitingly. Never one to object to a new friend-- a new life to become acquainted with, a new story to learn-- she welcomes the addition to her evening.

"Of course I am," comes her hum of agreement, "the weather is perfect, the sky is beautiful..." A dreamy sigh. It has been so long since she last could enjoy a place like this, and though the quiet of her old friends' absences hangs heavy around her shoulders, Elysia takes it as little more than a challenge to enjoy it enough for the twelve of them.

Or ten, now, a thought that serves only to soften her expression more.

"Hm?" His second question catches her in that thought, steals her from it with a breath of laughter. "Oh, it's just a reminder of an old friend." She offers the spool it is tied to, an invitation. "I like to imagine it's me up there, carried by the wind among the clouds... Oh, I know it's silly, but I would love to be a kite myself. Though I suppose a bird is more reasonable..."

[bakugoyelling]

Giyuu was super shy when he first started realizing he was crushing on you and every time he saw a pretty flower on any of his walks he’d always think of you. He’d pick the flower and hand it to you without a word and wait for you to take it from his hands.

“I saw it and thought of you…” he mutters quietly after a few seconds of silence. And you can’t help but smile and take the flower from his hands. Your smile and hearing your soft voice,

“Thank you, Giyuu.”

makes butterflies swarm in his stomach and his head spin. A blush starting to form on his cheeks as he turns to look away shyly.

🥺💓🥺💓 Giyuuuu my soft-spoken love, plucking pretty flowers because they remind him of you!!! He would be so awkwardly cute and sweet if he had a crush. Even when he’s alone on his walks, he can’t help but think of you 😭 oh, how I love him!!!

He would have never thought someone could make him feel this way — so full of life, someone he wants to be around.

Flash forward a year later, and the two of you are dating — also something he never thought would happen — you’re his, and he’s yours, forever, you often say, but that doesn’t stop him from plucking flowers for you.

One night, while twirling a fresh carnation between your fingers, you ask, “Giyuu, why do you pick flowers for me?”

It catches him a bit off guard. After all this time, you’ve never questioned why — for a second, he wonders if maybe you don’t want them anymore, but your voice is gentle, a smile tugging at your lips as you admire the flower's soft petals, awaiting his response.

“Because they’re pretty,” he says. “And pretty things have always reminded me of you,”

He pauses as you shift your gaze, peering up at him as he continues, “Because…you’re pretty too,”

Flustered, your boyfriend's words have you feeling like you did when he first asked you out. When he first held your hand. When he first kissed your cheek. A radiant warmth spreads through your body as you lean into him, nuzzling against his chest with a bashful chuckle as he wraps his arms around you.

He never fails to make you feel so loved, so adored.

[fellpurpose]

She's sure she looks a mess, covered in bandages and half dragging herself through the crowds of people gathered throughout the med tent. He has seen her look far worse, at least, but her pride is certainly still a little bruised.

But, win or lose, she knows they would never think any less of one another. As the unmistakable figure of her cousin comes into view, it's suddenly much harder to feel bad about her failure.

"I liked the sign," she knocks her shoulder against his, halfhearted and gently enough not to reawaken any still angry wounds. "It'll be me cheering you on next year, alright?"

it comes as no surprise to see lucina soldiering on. odin winces sympathetically at the sight of her injuries, though he refrains from showing any expression other than one of encouragement. wounds of the flesh are easy to patch — what matters most is that her spirit remains unscathed.

he greets her with a large grin, arms outstretched to declare her a victor nonetheless. "hark, cousin! your foes should consider themselves blessed, for you allowed them the privilege of witnessing RAW, TRANSCENDENT POWER~!"

the blond loops an arm around lucina's shoulders and gently leads her away from the crowds. "dare i say it, but even the most powerful warriors find themselves bested in battle on the rare occasion. at least you've now given your foes the bloodlust to face you in combat again. the next time you meet, i have no doubt you'll show them how a TRUE hero battles their enemies into the scintillating light of day!"

spoken approval earns her a bright-eyed look. odin perks up eagerly, his smile growing wider by the minute. "really? heh. i'm glad to hear it."

then without warning, he uses his free hand to grip the hilt of an imaginary sword. in a fluid motion, odin draws an invisible blade from its sheath and swings the phantom weapon for her to see. "i would know no greater honor," he says, before adding with a laugh, "though honestly? i'd rather have you fighting by my side. what do you say? we could come up with joint moves specifically for it!"

[hresvelged]

He knew of her, yet barely knew her nonetheless. A drive that frightened their opponents in the illusion, that they struck at her with such fervor. A strong individual, a student, a child. He spots her, amongst many others, alive. Standing.

How does one apologize for failing so fully? For standing when she fell? His hesitance bids him a moment longer before approaching her, but eventually he does, if only because he may not have a chance in the future. 

“Are you in need of healing?” Sephiran begins, quietly. Then, after a moment’s pause, “I am sorry I could not offer it sooner.”

She is not unfamiliar to the claws of death and its monstrous eyes searing themselves into her very being. Such memories fuel her flames. Now, she rises once more. The princess immediately recognizes the sound of his voice; the recognition and reminder of the beginning towards the end. The words offered leave her with a shake of the head, never breaking her eye contact.

"I hold no ill will towards you, if that is a concern of yours." She takes a breath, letting the cool air fill her lungs. Despite the other injured faces around the premise, she feels freer than before. Any aches she suffers from now are nothing compared to the past. "There's no denying how quick our surroundings shifted. I expect the circumstances would have differed had there been even a moment further."

He then extends an apology of his own volition; she acknowledges those spoken words. Edelgard is the Imperial Princess, but she is also a person. No matter the outcome, a person must face it head on. She is pleased this is the case here. "Now that we are no longer in those confines, I welcome the assistance. There was hardly a chance for me to witness your abilities before. Show me now, if you will."

[higaneion]

☆ 👀👀✨

There is something about you that I see in many. Perhaps I don't understand whatever reason you may have for acting as you do, but whatever wrongs that you commit does not make you a bad person.

You have family, right? That you would do anything to see them safe? I think that alone shows your true virtue.

[firelles]

AMBUSH :  for both characters to come under attack by the same enemy.

Quickly does she witness just how rapidly the monastery throws its students into situations outside of classroom walls. The emphasis on real world practice is understandable, albeit the feelings of her heart remain mixed on the matter. Nonetheless, it is reassuring to know she is accompanied by familiar faces. On unfamiliar premises, Céline follows behind Diamant as they head into southern Leicester territory. The quiet trek comes to a halt as the sun shines on unwelcomed shadows bursting in front of them from behind nearby trees. It takes little observation to note the defiance in the thieves' eyes— The smirks they possess as they clutch large bags perched atop their shoulders. The grass around their feet is trampled, and with it, their roots.

Céline knows what will occur. Moving herself to stand adjacent, she draws her shoulders back and prepares herself for inevitable battle. She can tell, words coming to a whisper in turn: "It seems they have stolen goods. I do not know what exactly, but they have ruptured the peace here." If the bandits are in such a hurry, why must they find themselves ambushed? Perhaps because they have been caught in the act. She understands now.

Imperative is it, then, to stand her own and protect both herself and Brodia's king. He is of an allied nation, certainly, but he is also a person she will safe-guard. As they both ready themselves for the inevitable, the way he holds himself is strong and respectable— It is no wonder he stands on these lands as a professor.

When Céline looks upwards towards Diamant, the glint of readiness in her eyes speaks for itself: "I will cover our left— They needn't take a step closer." She nods, moving her facing away from him and back onto the thieves. Even as a finger traces atop her tome and her stance bursts of determination, there is nothing to enjoy about a fight.

[chocum]

KARMA !

— brat taming the jjk men feat. choso kamo, kento nanami, toji fushiguro.

WARNINGS. femdom!reader, f!reader (she/her), brat taming, cock slaps, crying, handjob, choking, p in v, riding, overstim, lingerie, lollll slotted toji out :33, recording, finger sucking. ( 2k ) note. hellloooooo hope u all enjoy this. i had fun writing bc i loveee the idea of making big strong men crumble mhmhmhm. anywaysss reblogs are appreciated thank youuu love u all. repost bc last night it didn’t show in the tags 💔 but i edited it and added alottt so if you already saw it feel free to read again !! ty

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 CHOSO KAMO

“ma— make m— ooohh fuck. wai—wait” his voice trembled so cutely that it was barely coherent, crumbling into a pretty whine that drowns out his pathetic attempt (if you could even call it that) at being a defiant little brat, making you giggle, your slicked up thumbs pushing and rubbing down on the slit of his leaky tip, sending jolts of pain masked as pleasure up his bony spine, “make you?”

immediately he knows he’s fucked up. the air between you growing thick.

he didn’t know what came over him, really. maybe he had been watching too much porn, fantasizing too much, because the idea of getting tamed by you— god, just the thought of getting put in his place, turned him on so much. so, so much.

but having to actually disobey you, he couldn’t. he believes he was only put on this earth to serve you and please you. to be good. his head hurriedly shakes side to side, making each strand of ravened silky hair jump and dance before resting to frame his flushed face, “‘m sorry didn’t me—”

you land a heavy, hard slap to his cock, the sound pounding in his flushed ears blending with the beat of his heart, making his body tense up and jerk underneath you. his breaths come out in ragged little gasps, each one such a struggle as his fuzzy brain short circuits under your warm palms.

it really is cute, you think. cute how easy it is to break him. the pretty tears that drip down his puffed-up, blushed cheeks remind you of that. he’s choking on his sobs when you move to cup his face and kiss the corners of his eyes, and his cheeks. crying and sniffling because he hates when you’re mad. hates disappointing you.

“‘m sorry, i don’t— just wanna be so good for you. i’ll be— wanna be your good boy.”

“i know,” you coo, petting him like the pretty pet he is, “wanna try again for me, hm?”

and oh, he’s nodding so sweetly, cock throbbing for you, his big glassy eyes heart-shaped, staring up. so ready to be yours, ready to be the good boy you’ve trained him to be.

so you tell him again, “fuck my fists, make yourself cum, pretty boy. and look me in my eyes.”

his hips buck up, the salty tears on his cheeks warming and dried as he uses your sticky hands like a fleshlight, whining prettily when you tighten your grip around him, “‘m sorry” he babbles over and over, drooling out the corners of his parted puffy lips.

he’s so good. staring into the blown pupils of your pretty eyes without fault, like you told him to. because you told him to.

and his thighs burn, his legs shaking and trembling against the silky sheets as he gets closer and closer. the pain almost urging him on, “are you gonna cum for me? baby? gonna give it all to me hm?”

“yes, ple— please. please, can i cum can—”

you pull your hands off him.

drawing out the prettiest whine to ever be heard. like a song of the angels. his head falling back against the wooden headboard, hips bucking up in search of something to ease the ache that overwhelms in his tummy. those hot tears making a special reappearance.

“aww baby,” you hum, feigning sympathy, massaging his warm— full, heavy balls, “did you really think you’d get to cum after that, hm? did you?”

his eyes widen in desperation, disappointment. he tries to speak, to plead, to beg, but all that comes out are broken little sobs and whimpers.

the look on his face is almost pitiful. furrowed brows, pout, and his mouth hangs open.

you bend to lean in closer, your breath so warm against the shell of his sensitive ear, “you have to earn it, baby. good boys get rewarded. brats get punished.”

for you, he nods weakly, his voice barely a whisper as he chokes, “i’ll be so good, pro— promise. please, let me cum. let me show you how good i am”

so pretty. your fingers slip down to massage his aching balls, applying just enough pressure to keep him on that edge he loves to dangle over without giving him the sweet, sweet release he craves. “nuh uh, not yet,” you hum softly, your tone both firm but oh so gentle. “show me how much you want it.”

his hips buck up involuntarily, humping the air in search of your grip— relief, eyes locking onto yours, colored irises filled with adoration. he’s completely at your mercy, every nerve and ending in his body on fire, every muscle tensed up in anticipation.

and you can see the struggle in his eyes. it’s really a beautiful sight, and you savor every moment of it. “that’s it,” mumuring, “keep looking at me like that. show me how much you need it.”

his breaths come in short little, ragged gasps, his chest heaving and caving, thighs burning from fucking the air.

but finally, after what feels like an eternity, you decide to grant him some mercy, your hands moving back around his throbbing cock, stroking him just how he likes it, “cum for me, pretty boy,” you command, a soft, seductive purr. “give it all to me.”

with a strangled, gargled cry, he obeys. his body convulsing, every muscle tightening as he finally, finally finds his release, his cum spilling all over your hands in thick, hot, sticky spurts. and he’s so obedient, his eyes remaining locked on yours, even as his vision blurs and fuzes with pleasure.

“there you go,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “such a good boy.”

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 KENTO NANAMI

the tie that usually wrapped snug around the collar of nanami’s shirt adding that signature pop of yellow to his suits now decorates his flushed neck, constricting it, the tail of it clutched tightly in your fists as you ride his cock, your hips rolling and jerking against him relentlessly.

thick cum drips down to his balls, pooling underneath him, a swirl of your mess and his. he’s cum two–no, four? he doesn’t even know how many loads he’s stuffed into your warm cunt— or how many you’ve forced and sucked out of him, his cock so sensitive it fucking hurts, every time you snap back down on him sending poky jolts of overstimulation through his entire body.

“fu—fuck, honey, please. i don’t have— ngh— don’t have anything left to give. fuckin’ drained me already— can’t—”

you tug on the silky fabric, making him choke on his words, gargling on warm, foamy spit. his hands reaching to grab at the curve of your waist, but he’s flinching, remembering how you said, no touching. remembering why he’s in the position in the first place.

because he doesn’t listen.

refused to keep his hands to himself, your body begging to be touched, in his words. as if he didn’t take you seriously, just kept grabbing at you, digging his slim fingers into your plush skin.

so, obviously, there’s some sort of misunderstanding .. some sort of disconnect. he must have forgotten who was in charge.

you don’t even give him a response, ignoring the prickly burn in your thighs to fuck him dumb. maybe then, ironically, he’ll learn how to act. each jerk of your hips move to push him further to the edge, to remind him of his place.

his body is weak, just sitting pretty, twitchy, letting you do as you please, sweetly hiccuping under your frame, “hah— please, my fucking god i— i’m sorry” he’s all gone and sucked up, cock crying, drooling pathetic tears of salty cum in your cruel walls. sweat peppering his forehead, slicking the ridges of his chest, making him glisten.

“please, i’m fucking begging i’ll— hah, won’t disobey you again. i’ll— i’ll be good. i’ll be yours”

aw, there it is.

and you hum, stilling your hips, letting his cock fill you all the way up, “mhm that’s all i needed to hear. now give me onee more load. just one. know you can do it pretty boy, give it to me”

even though his body is spent, just the true definition of exhaustion, he responds, his pretty cock twitching inside you as he drags against his own warm cum in your spongy walls. and it doesn’t take long before he’s giving into you. balls so empty, just a few little spurts drooling out, but it feels just as intense, maybe even more than any of his other orgasms. “good boy”

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 TOJI FUSHIGURO

“toj’ my pretty boy” your finger draws across the pink lacy lingerie that does a pathetic job of covering his cock. poking out, leaking and drooling all over the fabric, almost ripping through it with just how hard he is, “you look so good like this”

he grunts, blush growing across his cheeks, a deep, deep crimson, turning his head to avoid your gaze, avoid your phone brightly flashing, recording him.

“so hard too, aw” mumuring, you move closer, recording every detail of how he bulges through the set you so perfectly picked out for him. the pink complementing his tanned skin so well, truly a work of art “touch yourself for me”

another grunt escapes his lips, and he’s fidgeting, dragging his balls against the bed, rutting like a fucking dog, pulling at the ropes that hold and confine him, caging him against himself, “need your ..”

“yeah, need what?” you prompt with a smile, watching through your screen how he struggles to say it, pouting as his brows furrow up.

“need your help”

theres a wicked little glint in your eyes, pulling back at the stretchy band of the pretty underwear, letting go so it snaps back against the sensitive underside of his thick cock, making him whine, his broad body shaking and twitching, muscles clenching up.

humming, you bring your palm to his face, telling him to lick, and he listens, immediately.

licking a long stripe up your warm palm, but oh, he gets carried away. stretching to wrap his scarred lips around your fingers, bobbing his head up and down, drool dripping down from around his pursed lips, letting his tongue lay flat. “look at you, so eager”

he comes off with a pop, smirking because he knows you love when he’s so good like this for you.

you press your slick fingers against his covered perky nipples, watching as he twitched, before moving to stoke him through the pretty lingerie, “don’t fu—fucking tease”

you ignore him, let him get away with the little back talk because he just looks toooo cute, eyes all big, looking up into the flash of the camera, leaking through the lingerie like such a pretty boy. all for you.

you flick your wrist faster, leaning to spit on his clothed cock, sending thousands of shivers up the nerves on his spine, making him croon, his ass raising up off the bed to buck into your palms, giving the camera such a good show.

“gonna cum, shit— i’m so close. fuck— please”

he’s babbling, his voice all high and whiney.

“mhm go ahead, baby”

with a final, desperate thrust, he’s shooting against the fabric, babbling your name as it oozes through making a sticky little mess before you’re leaning down to lap at his clad tip. to clean him up.

then you come off him, stopping the video. and tojis looking up at you through glassy eyes as you press against your phone, smiling.

“what— hah, what are you doing”

“sending it to shiu”

[ofgentleresolve]

@byanyan sent in: ‘don’t make that face. i’m telling the truth.’ (for annie! they probably shoplifted from the store she works at smh) || the only movie that matters ( everything everywhere all at once sentence starters. )

Shoplifters. Her aunt has warned Annie about them before- it doesn’t matter what part of the city one lives in. Inevitably they’ll come in sooner or later, in all forms or sizes. And maybe Annie, who in her lucid moments remembers the patients in the hospital she once helped tend to, the ones whose insurance couldn’t cover the care they desperately needed, is more sympathetic than her aunt is. Maybe the shoplifter in question, covered in tattoos and piercings, needs the merchandise. 

( Her aunt would have most definitely called the police the moment they stepped foot in the store; they’re the kind of person Annie knows Umma would have warned her to keep away from back when she was a high schooler herself too. )

But there’s something about that phrase. About that nonchalant expression they’re wearing that…irks her. Makes her doubt they’re stealing for the sake of survival. “...it doesn’t matter if I think you’re lying or not. I need you to come back into the store with me.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Undead Florist

Anon said: Basically, I just wanted Danny to deliver flowers to the Justice League heroes from his fans. If you can include Everlasting Trio. U can add whatever crack you think would be best! Thank you!

Clark is in the middle of blocking a heat ray attack from a robot that copies the powers of any Justice League member when the unexpected happens. A kid, no older than fourteen, boldly walks into the battlefield carrying a lavish bouquet of red roses and trigger lilies.

He's dressed in a worker uniform: light brown khakis, a black shirt with a light-born vest, and a black baseball hat resting neatly on his head. There is a company logo on the upper right of his vest but Clark does not recognize the stylized D.

There was a still moment when Clark's super speed could see the exact second Amazo spotted the child. The boy wasn't paying attention, staring at his phone screen, which had the faint details of a map, and had two headphones in his ear.

Clark's eyes widen in horror, and he opens his mouth to try to shout a warning—though he doubts the kid could hear him over the loud music playing in his ear—but before he can, Amazo flung out an arm straight at the kid's head, still pinning Clark down with a cheap version of his own laser ray eyes.

No! No, please, he's so young! He pleads mentally, frozen in horror as the robot's hand goes right through the kid's head. It took a solid minute for Clark to realize that Amazo's hand hadn't ripped through the skull of the child but rather had passed through him as if the boy was not physically there.

From underneath a black baseball cap, brim, electric blue eyes stare at Amazo. Gesturing vaguely to the arm going through his head, the boy frowns. "Rude much?"

"Access: Black Canary," Amazo says in response, his jaw opening wider as a super-powered scream is released, pointing black at the kid's face.

The frown on the worker deepens as the boy reaches up and- slaps the android in the face? "Dude, I'm trying to work. I have like eight flower deliveries today. Also, that was a weak imitation. This is a real Ghostly Wail."

He opens his jaw, letting out a sound that wasn't as loud as Black Canary or Amazo but somehow worse.

And the sound—the unholy screech that releases from the child sends Clark to his knees, quivering in his boots as Amazo disintegrates right before his eyes. The only thing left of the android is a smothering pair of robotic legs that fall over with a loud thump.

The boy huffs, paying no mind to the fact that he took out the enemy the league had spent the last six hours fighting before Clark tried to lure it away from the city. He merely glances back at his phone, following the little moving icon on the map until he stands before the fallen hero.

"Hi! Are you Superman?" The kid asks in a polite, chipper tone. It's such a whiplash change between his normal voice and his customer service voice that it sets in. This is really just a Tuesday for him.

Clark opens and closes his mouth with a weak "Yes" and is pushed out.

The kid's smile grows as he pushes the flowers into his arms. Clark nearly drops the vase, scrambling to get a good hold of them as the kid pulls out a harmonica and plays a little jingle. It sounds like a mix between Happy Birthday and Ring Around the Roses.

Once he is done, the boy holds out his arms wide open and loudly proclaims, in a very obvious Transatlantic accent, which makes him sound... rather otherwordly: "These flowers are sent by your fan Kattie Longsmith in Metropolis, wishing to thank you for rescuing her mother and brother from a fire. She wants to remind you that she is your biggest fan and hopes you have a lovely day. Thank you for selecting the Undead Florist as your means of flora travel!"

With a theatric bow, the boy blinks out of existence.

Clark is left kneeling alone in a destroyed cornfield, beating black and blue, while holding a vase of lavished roses and lilies. He is unsure how long he will stay there, trying to process what he just saw as the Batplane flies onto the scene, Bruce jumping out of it with a cry of his name.

Batman growls upon taking in the scene before his friend rushes to his side. "What happened?"

"I ugh...I got a flower delivery." He manages to utter, eyes still trained on the spot of the strange kid.

"What?"

"Trust me, I'm as confused."

It turns out that Clark's delivery is not an isolated incident. Over the past three months, various Justice League members have reported similar interactions with the Undead Florist.

Flash got a bouquet while trying to stop Captain Cold. The kid had wandered in the middle of a fight, unfreezing the speedster to hand over yellow lilies and sunflowers from a little boy named Teddy Smith in Central City. He had melted the freeze ray that was shot at him while Barry was in the middle of a panic, thinking he would watch a child die.

One little jingle and message was delivered in a Transatlantic accent later, and the boy was gone without a trace again. Bruce had gone to the scene, trying to find anything that could give him some clue, but he disputed the clear picture of his face and the recording of his voice. Nothing about the boy came up in their systems.

Wonder Woman was next, receiving two large bouquets of roses from a fellow woman she had rescued named Trix Cooperman. Her jingle was slightly smoother jazz , and the message leaned towards romantic than gratitude from a fan, but the boy had delivered it nonetheless.

He also took out Cheetah with a well-placed punch, highly impressing Diana. He had the makings of a warrior.

Then Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Martian Man Hunter, Batman, Martian Man Hunter, Hawkgirl, Aquaman, Zatanna, and surprisingly Vigilante each got their own flower grams.

None of them were able to get any information about the child, seeing as he only appeared when the members were in the middle of a fight, which was driving Bruce mad.

Of course, they had tracked down all the clients but met a dead end when each claimed they had never placed an order with Undead Florist. Even when Diana was holding her rope, the people gave the same answer.

They had no idea why Undead Florist was delivering flowers in their name or where the message that came along with the flowers appeared from. The chilling part was that the messages did actively represent their emotions and feelings towards the heroes, but how the overpowered child knew that was left unanswered.

The other thing that bothered Bruce was that the Undead Florist only appeared when they were in battle.

"Maybe it's because he doesn't know how to find you otherwise," Nightwing suggested at the Justice League-wide meeting.

"He uses a GPS that is locked into the heroes." Batman grunts, not dismissing the suggestion but challenging it, which causes his eldest son to shrug.

"Undead could be following online tips or something. It's not like the Leauge is seen just strolling around the cities, but people tweak when they do happen to see us."

"We could test that. Have a group of heroes just relaxing at a cafe or something. See where he appears and if there is a pattern after monitoring social media." Red Robin suggests, rubbing his chin.

Batman considers it before nodding. "I shall divide the teams."

The Justice League goes out, doing as instructed, and sure enough, they find the Undead Florist appearing more and more. Red Robing happily puts together the pattern, pointing to social media generated by the younger generation's demographics.

Undead Florist is an actual teenager using DCtweets to find heroes to bring flowers to. They have enough proof of that to show he's harmless if one ignores his more than impressive battle skills.

"Now all we need to do is catch him," Clark announces. "We don't want to scare him, but the Justice League really needs to know how he's doing all of this. It could be a security risk."

Meanwhile, Danny chills in his haunt, watching Sam tend to the flowers in a large greenhouse he placed for her. Tucker is typing away on a ghost zone-powered supercomputer, looking at all the Soul orders their business is getting.

The Ghost Zone didn't have a formal currency; they had Deals instead. Even small unconscious deals—like wishing on a shooting star, throwing a coin in a fountain, or sending a prayer or two—could be turned into deals if a higher being encountered them.

Luckily for those people, Danny and his lovers are very kind higher beings and choose to complete their requests in a way that satisfies all of their obsessions without stealing souls.

Sam got to spread her greenery across worlds, Tucker got to spend time with tech from different universes and Danny was able to explore and protect the souls of humans.

That Danny could exchange these Soul orders for gold was no one business but their own.

"Ohhh, another order, Red Robin, from Universe Nine!" Tucker crows. "It's roses in the shape of a heart from Kon-el. Aw, he's in love with his best friend!"

"That's sweet." Danny smiles, leaning over his boyfriend's shoulder to read the message he must memorize when he struts into Gotham. "I know how much fun dating best friends is."

"Let's help those losers confess then!" Sam calls, raising her hands as roses of various colors burst to life around her.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

pkay! so i was wondering if u could do a jace x reader where after the funeral she takes him and comforts him and looks after him in the bedroom to help him calm down because he had to act strong infront of his family but in the contents of his own chambers he could let himself cry on them!

Another one for Jace because this scene broke us all. This will be the last one about this scene. I have written three versions of different moments, I think all has been said

Warnings: mention of death, grief, panic attack

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You stood alongside Rhaena and Baela during the funeral. Behind you stood Corlys and Rhaenys, all mourning the loss of Lucerys. 

Along with the remains she found on the shore, the Queen threw in the pyre her son’s clothes. Jacaerys stepped up next and threw the baby swaddle their mother used when he was a baby. And lastly, Jacaerys picked up Joffrey, who threw the horse toy Lucerys had when he was little. It had been handed to him when he grew out of playing with it, but it was still Lucerys’.

Your heart ached at how Joffrey clung to his big brother, who himself had his eyes filled with tears threatening to spill. You wanted to go up to him and hold his hand, but the time was not right. 

When the flames of the pyre finally extinguished, everyone retreated inside. The Queen had withdrawn to her chambers with her youngest sons. Losing one had only intensified her need to keep the others close.

Your eyes searched the hall for the one who was promised to you, but Jacaerys was nowhere in sight. To your left, you noticed Rhaena and Baela, who had just parted from their grandmother. You approached them, and Rhaena, who had lost her betrothed, welcomed you with a brief but heartfelt hug.

‘’Have you seen Jacaerys?’’ you asked them.

Rhaena shook her head, but Baela nodded. ‘’I saw him taking the stairs minutes ago.’’

You thanked her and followed her lead. 

Upstairs, you knew exactly where to go. 

Inside your chamber, you found Jacaerys pacing the room with frantic steps, one of his hands gripping his chest. His breathing was ragged and shallow, and his face contorted with panic. He pulled at his doublet, feeling like it was choking him and stopping air from getting into his lungs. 

You rushed to his side, alarmed. ‘’Jace,’’ you called out, your voice tinged with concern and confusion.

His head snapped in your direction, his face filled with fear and tears. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He didn’t know what was happening, and neither did you. 

‘’Should I fetch the maester?’’ you asked, your heart clenching with worry.

‘’It... hurts... can't breathe…’’ he managed to gasp, his voice strained with desperation. Sweat beaded his forehead, and his breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, as if the air was somehow refusing to fill his lungs.

Jacaerys pulled at his doublet again. 

You tried to remain calm, knowing that panic would only make the situation worse. You reached out and undid the buttons on the front of his doublet, hoping to loosen the constriction around his chest. But even as the tight fabric released its grip, it didn’t seem to help. His chest continued to heave and shudder, each breath sounding like a painful struggle.

‘’Let’s sit.’’ 

He nodded, his eyes wide with fear as he allowed you to guide him to the settee. With every step, his breathing only seemed to get more and more erratic, each gasp sounding like a strangled sob.

Once he was seated, you knelt in front of him, your hands gently gripping his trembling ones, offering what little comfort you could. His chest continued to rise and fall rapidly, each breath sounding as if it was being wrenched from his lungs. His eyes were fixed on you, panic still evident in his gaze, but there was also a glimpse of vulnerability there, as if he was silently pleading for your help.

It was heart-wrenching to see him in such a state, his normally calm and collected demeanor completely shattered.

You squeezed his hands gently, hoping to offer some small comfort. ‘’Focus on me,’’ you urged him, your voice soft but firm. ‘’Listen to my voice. Try to match your breaths to mine. Inhale.’’ You breathed in deeply, exaggerating each inhalation and exhalation, hoping that Jacaerys would follow your lead. ‘’Exhale. In through your nose, out through your mouth.’’

He tried, his eyes locked onto your face as you breathed in and out. At first, his breaths only seemed to become more shallow and labored, but gradually, they began to match the pace of yours. Each gasped inhalation slowly started to become less frantic and more controlled.

After a moment, he calmed down and you wiped his tears. 

‘’Thank you for helping me. I don’t know how this happened. I…I thought I was going to die.’’

You rose to your feet and wrapped your arms around him. 

He buried his face in your shoulder, still shaking from the intensity of the experience. He wrapped his arms around you, clinging to you tightly, as if holding on for dear life. 

‘’I was so scared,’’ he whispered, his voice still shaky and raw. ‘’I thought I was losing control. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think... It was like everything was closing in on me.’’

You held him tightly, one hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. His body was warm and solid against yours, his muscles tense with lingering fear.

You hushed gently, kissing his shoulder. ‘’You're okay now. You're safe with me.’’ 

—

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[bratbby333]

it's just a game, my love

gamer!bf sukuna x fem!reader ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ nsfw mdni warnings: language (duh), rough sex, mild degradation, creampie, established relationship, sukuna is his own warning summary: sukuna can't stand losing, so he takes his anger out on you in the best way possible author notes: this my first request, courtesy of @youliveincassisworld !! i hope u love it, thank u so so much for sending this in. this was so fun to write. my reqs are open! send a message here♡

“No FUCKING way!” You jump at the deep, booming voice that resonates through your apartment. You sit upright, hoping to hear more.

“You’re trash. Scum of the earth.” 

You peel yourself off the sofa and walk down the hall, pausing in the doorway of your boyfriend’s office. 

“Stupid bitch.” He spews out. You see him leaned forward, headset adorning his unruly pink locks. The rapid clicking of buttons and the soft sounds of gunfire that escape the padded circumference of his headphones let you know he was playing Call of Duty. This game always gets him so worked up. You don’t understand how it’s still enjoyable at this point.

You watch from the doorway, his body mimicking the movements he’s making in the game. An amused smile dances across your face. He’s so cute when he’s focused. 

“Fuck!” He shouts, throwing his controller down and sitting back abruptly in his chair. He’s enraged. You walk up behind him, placing your hand on his shoulder. 

Placed 5th displays across his screen. 

“Sukuna, baby, you alright?,” you ask, rubbing your fingers into his shoulder blade.

“Does it sound like I’m fuckin’ alright?” he bites back at you, rubbing his fingers between his eyebrows. You don’t take his anger personally.

“It’s just a game, my love. Why not take a break and try again later,” you suggest, attempting to calm him down. 

“It’s just so fucking stupid,” he seethes, his eyes covered by his large hand. 

He finally meets your gaze. You expect to see anger plastered across his face. Your heart drops when you’re met with a different, unexpected look; arousal. 

A coy smile spreads across his face.

“Bedroom. Now.”

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

Laid on your back, Sukuna smirks down at you. Positioned in the center of the mattress, knees pressed against your chest, ankles on either side of Sukuna’s neck; the mating press. Deep, powerful strokes cause your head to bounce around. The pressure of your legs against your ribcage makes it hard to breathe. 

Sukuna’s lustful red eyes gaze deeply into yours. “C’mon, brat. Give me your cum.” His large, firm hands dig into the backs of your thighs, pushing you deeper into the bed, his cock reaching unimaginable depths. You can’t help but cry out for him. 

“I-I don’t think-ahhh-I can c-cum again, Kuna,” you stutter out, overstimulation raking through your body, hands pushing against his stomach. 

“Do you think I care? Move your fucking hands.”

Frustration is still painted across Sukuna’s face as he plows into your pretty pussy. He’s taking all his rage toward the game out on you, and you couldn’t be happier. His strokes are mean and demanding, eliciting such crude noises to fall from your lips. 

“You better take that shit…let me fuckin’ break you.” His thrusts are unrelenting, the head of his cock bullying your g-spot. 

You can barely keep your eyes open, undeniably falling apart on his cock. He feels you tightening around him, and he grins back at you.

“Let it go. C’mon.” he rasps, his hand grabbing your throat tightly. 

“Mmmph, Su-Sukuna…I-I…” you gasp out. You can’t form a coherent sentence, his rough hand constricting your windpipe. Your wide eyes stared into his as if you were pleading with him to give you a break.

“Shut the fuck up. You better cum for me. Now. Make a fuckin’ mess on my cock.” His coarse, demanding voice was all you needed to lose it. Your eyes roll back, body shaking violently. Sukuna growls at how tight you’re gripping him, the warm squirt of your release painting his abdomen. 

“That’s it…I knew you had another one in you. Such a good girl for me” he groaned out, hand still tight around your throat. He shifts his position, sitting back on his knees, one arm straightened out and pressing your folded leg against your chest, the other holding your extended leg flush to his chest, your ankle resting against his neck.

“Takin’ me so fucking good…want me to fill ‘ya up?” he cocks an eyebrow at you, seemingly amused at your fucked out expression. 

“Mhmm,” you hum out, eyes low and head foggy.

“That’s not how you ask. Beg for it, brat.” he bites back at you, still stroking deeply. 

“P-please…Sukuna.  Please fill me with your c-cum.” You gasp out. He fucks into you, his strokes never losing momentum. He repositions again, leaning back over you, pushing both your legs back into your chest with his hands. He bottoms out inside of you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls. He stills, his cock twitching as he empties himself completely. He remains deep within you, his pelvis pressed firmly against your aching core, ensuring you take every drop of him as you both struggle to regain your breath. 

“Sucha good fucking girl for me, baby,” he says, voice softer now, his hand cupping the side of your face, the rough pads of his fingers dragging down your cheek. He pulls out and lays beside you, his hands rubbing your stomach, as if he was massaging his cum deeper into you. 

"You feelin' better, my love?" you ask lazily, eyes low and breath labored, shifting your body toward him and propping yourself up on your elbow.

"No," he replies simply, "I think I need another round." His eyes follow the curves of your body hungrily.

As much as he hates losing, you can't help but love it.

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

author notes: have a request? drop it here♡ thank you all so much for the support on my stories,,i appreciate it more than you know.

more gamer!bf sukuna here and here

© bratbby333 on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not distribute. 2024.

[dollgxtz]

Trick or...Temptation?

Word Count: 9.8k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, pet play if u squint, creampie, biting, rough sex, pet names like kitten, sweetie, penetration, cunninlingus, i wanted to make this a vampire!sylus fic so bad but I got nervous lmao but theres slight mentions of him :3

AN: Happy Halloween everyone! I sincerely hope u all enjoy this, it was super fun to write! I rushed to finish this so I could post it exactly on Halloween. Enjoy!

“What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he ran his thumb over the spot on your neck where he had bitten you. “You thought I was joking?” You opened your mouth, trying to find the words, but before you could speak, Sylus leaned in close again, his breath hot against your ear. “Be still,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “You can handle it. Just like you said.”

“Come oooon! It’ll be so much fun!” Tara exclaimed, trailing behind you as you both walked out of work. The day had ended early thanks to the holiday, and while most people had exciting Halloween plans, you had opted for a quiet night in with a scary movie marathon. Of course, your enthusiastic coworker had other ideas for you.

“Tara, as much as I’d love to, it’s really just not my scene, you know? Maybe next year?” you tried, hoping to dodge her invitation once again.

“You always say that!” Tara pouted, her voice pleading as she quickened her pace to walk beside you. “Please? It’ll be fun! Just a few hours, a couple of drinks, a little dancing, and we can leave! Deal? It’s a festival, for crying out loud! I don’t want to go by myself.”

You glanced at Tara, her eyes wide and shimmering with that classic puppy-dog look she always gave you when she really wanted something. You couldn’t deny she had a point. It wasn’t like you had big plans for the night—just a quiet evening with a blanket and some popcorn. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to step out for a few hours, right?

“Fine,” you finally sighed, rolling your eyes but smiling a little. “But only for a few hours, and then I’m out.”

“Yes! Thank you, thank you, bestie!” Tara squealed, practically bouncing in excitement. “I’ll see you later tonight! You’re going to love it!”

And that was how you found yourself here, standing in front of your mirror, dressed in a skimpy cat costume. You adjusted the white miniskirt and tugged at the black corset top, making sure everything was in place. The cat ears perched on your head and the swishing tail added a playful touch, though the whole ensemble was definitely more revealing than you were used to. You sighed, resigned to your fate.

You didn’t have to stay long, you reminded yourself. Just a few hours, and then you could slip back into your original plan of movie night...hopefully without running into too much trouble.

You sighed and pulled out your phone, typing a quick message to Tara: On my way. Hitting send, you opened your ride-share app. If you were going to be drinking tonight, it was best not to drive yourself. The car arrived faster than you expected, and you slipped into the back seat, watching the city lights blur by as you mentally prepared yourself for the night ahead.

Arriving at the event, you stepped out of the car and immediately took in the scene. The park had been transformed into a Halloween wonderland, bustling with life. String lights cast a soft, warm glow over the area, illuminating clusters of people already well into the party spirit. Bodies bumped together in rhythm with the pulsing beat of the music, and a mix of excited chatter and laughter filled the cool night air. The grass beneath your shoes was damp with evening dew, and the faint scent of autumn leaves and spiced drinks wafted through the crowd.

Everywhere you looked, Halloween-themed decorations adorned the space—carved pumpkins lined the walkways, some with goofy faces, others with intricate, eerie designs. Fake cobwebs clung to the trees, and glowing skeletons and witch hats dangled from makeshift booths. There was an excitement in the air, palpable and contagious, though you still felt a little out of place.

Your eyes wandered toward the bar at the far end of the festival grounds. It was busy, but it was exactly what you needed. Liquid courage, you thought. If you were going to make it through the night, a drink or two would certainly help take the edge off. You made a beeline for it, weaving through the crowd, your thoughts focused on what your first drink would be—something strong, something to help you loosen up.

Just as you were about to make your escape, a high-pitched squeal cut through the music, and you barely had time to turn before you saw her—Tara, dressed in her fairy costume, wings glittering under the lights, barreling toward you at full speed.

“You’re here!!” she cried, wrapping you in an excited hug before you could even react. “Oh my God, I thought for sure you’d bailed or fallen asleep or something!”

You laughed, the sound surprising even you. “Yeah, well, you convinced me. I wouldn’t leave you hanging,” you said, shaking your head as you hugged her back, her energy instantly infectious.

Tara pulled back, her wide smile practically glowing. “Thank you soooo much for coming! I’m so excited, I can’t even—” she paused, looking you up and down, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “You look amazing! That cat costume is sexy! Definitely a step up from your usual movie marathon at home, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll admit, this is...different,” you muttered, tugging at the hem of your miniskirt. The cool night air reminded you just how short it was. But Tara was right—you didn’t do this often. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to try something new tonight.

Tara, completely unfazed by your slight discomfort, grabbed your hand with excitement. “Alright, enough chatting. Let’s get some drinks! We’re here to have fun, and the night is young!”

She pulled you toward the bar, and you couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. It wasn’t your scene, but with Tara by your side, maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad after all. The thumping bass of the music, the swirl of costumes, and the faint buzz of excitement in the air already had you feeling a little lighter.

The two of you made your way through the crowd and finally approached the bar. It was busy, but not unbearable, with people lined up in various costumes, chatting, laughing, and ordering drinks. As you and Tara waited for your turn, she started rambling about all the new Halloween movies you two could watch later, once the festival was over.

“There’s this one that’s supposed to be so creepy! It’s about these haunted scarecrows that come to life—oh, and don’t even get me started on the one with the possessed doll…” Tara continued, her excitement infectious as she rattled off titles.

You nodded along, half-listening, your mind slightly wandering as you scanned the area. The lights flickered over the bar, casting an eerie glow on the bottles lined up behind the counter. The decorations were elaborate—fake cobwebs stretched across the bar shelves, and jack-o’-lanterns glowed faintly from the corners of the space. You were just starting to get lost in your thoughts when the bartender, a stunning blonde woman dressed in a witch costume, turned to you with a smile.

“Hi, can I get a—” you began, but you were abruptly cut off by a smooth, male voice behind you.

“I’ll get a Gin Fizz and two margaritas for the ladies,” the voice said with casual authority.

You froze for a moment, the sound of that voice sending a jolt down your spine. You spun around, and there he was.

Sylus.

Tall, effortlessly imposing, with his signature white hair catching the dim light and his crimson red eyes locking onto yours with that familiar, knowing glint. He wore a dark, sleek outfit that hugged his frame perfectly, making him stand out even in the crowd of costumes. His smile was just as confident and wicked as you remembered.

“Long time no see, kitten” he said, his voice smooth, dripping with amusement as he looked down at you, eyeing your costume.

Your stomach did a flip. Of all the people you could have run into tonight, Sylus was the last person you expected—or wanted—to see. You hadn’t seen him in a while, and now here he was, appearing out of nowhere like he always did, and immediately making your pulse quicken.

“Sy-I mean Skye?” you stammered, catching yourself as Tara turned around too, clearly intrigued by the sudden appearance of this tall, striking man. Her bright eyes went wide, and she started clapping her hands excitedly.

“Skye! I haven’t seen you since our team-building outing! How’s the fruit business?” she asked, her voice bright and friendly as she came to stand beside you, completely unaware of your racing heart.

Sylus—no, Skye—didn’t miss a beat. He flashed Tara an easy smile, looking as unruffled as ever. “Ah, the fruit business is...ripe as always,” he replied with a wink towards you, clearly enjoying the nervous look on your face.

The bartender cleared her throat, cutting through the tension. “There’s a line, folks,” she said with a polite but firm smile, nodding toward the queue of people waiting for their drinks. “Take your drinks and let the others through.”

You blinked, suddenly remembering where you were. Nervously, you reached for your margarita and handed Sylus his gin fizz, all while trying to calm the wild beating of your heart. The casual smirk on his face did nothing to help your nerves. With drinks in hand, you and Tara moved toward a quieter, empty spot at the edge of the festival, away from the bar's chaos. Sylus, of course, followed.

As soon as you settled into your spot, Sylus wasted no time, his teasing smirk never fading. His eyes roamed over your outfit—your skimpy black cat costume with the mini skirt, corset top, and cat ears—and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze.

With a predatory gleam in his eye, he sauntered over, his smirk growing more wicked by the second. “You say you don’t want me calling you kitten, and yet here you are,” he drawled, letting his gaze sweep over your costume. “Dressed as one. How cute.”

You glared at him, already feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “Zip it...” you warned, rolling your eyes at the sheer irony of it all. But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but let a small giggle slip past your lips. It was absurd, really. Of course, of all the costumes you could've picked it just had to be this one.

He just chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. He took a sip of his own drink, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What are you even doing here?” you finally asked, your voice a little sharper than intended. “I thought you didn’t like crowded places.”

Sylus gave a soft laugh, leaning against a nearby post with his usual air of nonchalance. “I’m not a fan of crowds,” he admitted, his gaze flickering back to the sea of people dancing and drinking. “But I happen to own this little part of Linkon.” He said it so casually, as if it were no big deal. “Figured I’d make an appearance. Keep an eye on things.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. Of course he did. Sylus always had a way of showing up in places you least expected him—places you thought you could escape from him, if only for a night. But owning part of the city? That was new.

But not surprising.

Tara, who had already downed her margarita, was clearly impressed. “Woah, Skye,” she slurred slightly, her eyes wide with admiration. “The fruit vendor business must pay soooo well.”

You shot her a look, silently willing her to stop talking, but she was already giggling, oblivious to the tension between you and Sylus. He, on the other hand, seemed more amused than anything.

“What can I say?” Sylus replied smoothly, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Fresh fruit is forever in demand.” His eyes met yours again, clearly enjoying the joke that only the two of you understood.

You groaned inwardly, sipping more of your margarita as you glared at Sylus. He was playing along, effortlessly weaving his cover story about being a simple fruit vendor. And yet, there he was, owning half the city and standing in front of you, looking like he could control the whole damn world if he wanted to.

Sylus raised his glass in a mock toast, his crimson eyes never leaving yours. “Happy Halloween?” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered under your breath, knowing full well that this night was gonna be a loooong one.

Tara, always quick to notice things, suddenly glanced at Sylus with a playful frown. “Wait a second, Skye,” she said, squinting at him, “you’re not even in costume!” She giggled, rummaging through her bag, clearly not letting him off the hook. “This is a Halloween festival, after all. You’ve gotta dress the part!”

You internally groaned, already bracing yourself for whatever Tara had up her sleeve. But of course, she wasn’t about to disappoint. With a triumphant grin, she pulled out a small plastic case from her bag and popped it open, revealing a pair of cheap, plastic vampire fangs.

“Here!” she said, holding them out to Sylus with a twinkle in her eye. “These will work perfectly. You’ve already got the whole pale, mysterious look going on. You’d make such a great vampire!”

You couldn’t help but glance at Sylus, your heart skipping a beat as you realized just how well Tara’s suggestion fit. His striking white hair, his sharp features, and those intense, crimson eyes...he really would make a disturbingly convincing vampire.

To your surprise—and mild horror—Sylus flashed a wicked grin, clearly entertained by the whole situation. “A vampire, huh?” he mused, taking the plastic fangs from Tara’s hand and inspecting them. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with that all-too-familiar mischief. “I guess I can pull that off.”

He slid the fake teeth into his mouth with an exaggerated flourish, and somehow, even with cheap plastic fangs, he managed to look both ridiculous and annoyingly attractive at the same time. He bared his new "fangs" with a cheeky grin, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“See?” Tara beamed, clapping her hands together. “I told you! You look like you’ve been doing this your whole life!”

Sylus smirked, turning his attention back to you, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone he always used to get under your skin. “I do make a rather convincing vampire, don’t I?” he said, flashing his fake fangs at you with a playful gleam in his eyes. “What do you think, kitten?”

You glared at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. “You’re lucky I don’t have garlic,” you muttered, sipping your drink to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

Tara, oblivious to the tension between the two of you, just giggled again and raised her empty glass. “I need another drink after that! I'm gonna go get another round,” she said, already walking back toward the bar.

As soon as Tara was out of earshot, Sylus’s demeanor shifted slightly. The playful grin remained, but now, with just the two of you, there was something darker, more intense in his expression. He stepped closer, his presence suddenly much more imposing.

“You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he closed the distance between you, “I think your friend is onto something” His eyes gleamed, locking onto yours with that wicked, teasing look you knew all too well.

Before you could react, he leaned in—so close that you could feel his warm breath on your neck. Your heart jumped in your chest, the sudden proximity sending a shiver down your spine. His breath was hot against your skin, teasing, as he lingered just inches from your neck, not touching you but close enough that goosebumps instantly rose along your arms.

You froze, every nerve in your body suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. The scent of him, a mix of something dark and enticing, filled your senses. Your pulse quickened, and you couldn’t hide the goosebumps now crawling up your skin.

He let his breath linger for just a moment longer before his lips curled into a smirk near your ear. “You might want to watch out, kitten,” he whispered, his voice a low, teasing growl. “I could get used to this.”

Your breath hitched, and you struggled to keep your composure, your pulse racing wildly. “Sylus…” you warned, trying to sound stern, but your voice betrayed the effect he was having on you.

He chuckled softly, clearly reveling in your reaction. Straightening up slightly, he didn’t step back but remained close, his crimson eyes still locked on yours. “What’s the matter?” he teased, his voice smooth and playful. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You glared at him, trying to mask the fact that your heart was still hammering in your chest. “Don’t start,” you muttered, forcing a glare, even though you could still feel the heat from where his breath had brushed your skin.

Sylus took a slow sip of his drink, his smirk never fading. “I wasn’t starting anything,” he said innocently, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes said otherwise. “Just playing the part.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes, but the warmth in your cheeks and the pounding of your heart betrayed you. “Just don’t bite anyone,” you shot back, trying to reclaim some control over the situation.

“No promises,” Sylus said, his voice soft but dangerous, his gaze lingering on you as if you were his prey.

Tara came bouncing back over to you with two martinis, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hey! Want to dance?” she asked, already swaying to the music.

You barely hesitated, desperate for a way to escape the overwhelming tension with Sylus. “Yeah, sure,” you said, quickly taking the martini from Tara and downing a good portion of it. You could feel Sylus’s eyes on you, and when you glanced his way, he simply gave a slight nod, clearly content with watching you both from afar.

Your skin prickled under his gaze as you and Tara made your way toward the middle of the festival. The music was thumping, bodies swaying together under the dim, flickering lights. You still felt uneasy knowing Sylus was watching you, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake. But as the alcohol worked its way through your system, slowly loosening your limbs and dulling the tension, you started to let yourself get lost in the music. Tara twirled around you, laughing and dancing without a care in the world, and soon enough, you found yourself smiling and moving along with her.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the warmth of the alcohol was settling into your bones, making everything seem a little hazier, a little easier. The bass pulsed through the air, the crowd a blur of costumes and laughter, and for a moment, you forgot about Sylus’s watchful eyes.

But eventually, a different need called your attention—you really had to pee.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you shouted over the music to Tara.

“I’ll come with you!” she offered, but you shook your head.

“No, no, it’s fine. Stay here! I’ll be right back.”

Tara shrugged, happily returning to her dancing as you weaved your way through the crowd, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin as you stepped away from the dance floor. Your steps were a little unsteady, and as you made your way to the row of porta potties set up near the back of the festival grounds, you blinked to clear your vision. Everything seemed a little...fuzzy. The alcohol was really kicking in now, and you swore the ground felt a little wobbly under your feet.

You managed to find an open porta potty, and after handling your business, you stepped out, blinking again as the world swayed in front of you. Shit...am I really this drunk? you thought, steadying yourself against the side of the porta potty for a moment. Your vision was blurry, and everything seemed a little too bright, a little too loud.

Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. For a second, you thought it was Sylus. The height was wrong, but the dark outline and the way the man moved had you second-guessing yourself. Relief almost flooded through you, but then the figure got closer, and the sour, stale scent hit your nose.

No, this definitely wasn’t Sylus.

The man was much shorter, stockier, and as he came closer, you could smell him—like sweat and cheap cologne, mixed with the stench of too much booze. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as he stepped into your personal space, his breath hot and sour as he leaned in a little too close.

“Hey there,” he slurred, his voice dripping with false charm. “You look a little lost. Why don’t you come to my car? It’s parked just over there.”

Your heart jumped in your chest, and you instinctively stepped back, trying to put some distance between you and him. “No, I’m fine,” you said quickly, your voice shaky as you tried to move past him. But he stepped into your path, blocking you with an alarming quickness for someone who seemed so drunk.

“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he said, his tone darkening, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. “It’ll be fun. I can show you a good time, little kitty.”

Panic surged through you as you tried to yank your arm away, stumbling slightly as your vision blurred again. The alcohol was making it hard to focus, and you cursed under your breath. “No, leave me alone!” you said, your voice firmer now as you tried to push past him.

But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his face twisting with frustration. “I said come with me,” he growled, pulling harder.

Your pulse skyrocketed, fear taking over as you struggled to break free. Just as you were about to shout for help, a shadow loomed behind the man.

“I’d suggest you listen to her.”

That voice—it was low, cold, and unmistakable. You looked up, relief crashing through you like a wave as Sylus appeared, his tall figure practically radiating menace. The shorter man immediately let go of your arm, turning to face Sylus with a sneer, clearly trying to act tough despite the difference in size.

“And who the hell are you? I'm her boyfriend, fuck off” the man spat, puffing out his chest.

Sylus’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice low and deadly. Without another word, a cold red mist began to swirl around him, tendrils of it seeping through the air like something out of a nightmare. The temperature around you seemed to drop, and you could feel the mist growing denser, colder.

The drunken man didn’t seem to realize what was happening until it was too late. The red mist wrapped around him like a snake, tightening and choking him. His eyes bulged as he gasped for air, his grip on your arm loosening as fear took over.

Sylus didn’t stop. His eyes were locked on the man, his fury palpable as the mist constricted tighter.

The man’s face turned a sickly shade of purple as he clawed at the mist around his throat, desperately trying to break free. He gagged, his drunken bravado crumbling into pure terror.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice shaking as you stepped forward, grabbing Sylus’s arm. “Stop. You’re going to kill him...there's people all around us.”

Sylus’s eyes flicked to you, still cold and angry, but there was a flicker of hesitation. You could see the struggle behind his gaze, his fury barely held in check. But slowly, the mist around the man’s throat began to dissipate. Sylus released him, letting the man fall to the ground, coughing and wheezing as he scrambled to his feet.

The man didn’t waste a second. He stumbled away, terrified, mumbling incoherently as he disappeared into the crowd, wanting nothing more than to escape the nightmare he had just experienced.

Sylus’s shoulders tensed, his body still vibrating with anger as he watched the man retreat. His breathing was heavy, and though the mist had vanished, the chill in the air remained.

You stood there, your heart still racing, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified by what had just happened. As Sylus turned toward you, you could see him trying to calm himself.

“My kitten,” he said softly, though his voice was still rough with residual anger, “is always getting herself into sticky situations.” He took a step closer, his usual smirk returning, though there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Good thing I’m a vampire tonight. I can sniff out when she gets herself in trouble.”

You managed a shaky laugh, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. “You didn’t have to almost kill him,” you muttered, trying to regain your composure.

Sylus shrugged, his eyes softening as he looked you over, checking to make sure you were truly alright. “He deserved worse,” he said, though his tone was lighter now. “But I’ll behave. For you.”

Sylus suddenly glanced down at his watch, his expression hardening almost instantly. Without warning, he turned to you and, in a firm voice, announced, “We’re leaving.”

You blinked, confused. “What? Leaving? Why? What about Tara?”

But Sylus didn’t bother explaining. He grabbed your arm with a sense of urgency, pulling you away from the festival and weaving through the crowd. You tried to dig your feet into the ground, but with the alcohol still lingering in your system, your balance wasn’t on your side. “Hey! What about Tara?” you protested, struggling to keep up with his swift pace.

Sylus barely glanced back at you as he strode toward a sleek, black car parked near the edge of the festival grounds. “Luke and Kieran are taking her home,” he replied coolly, unlocking the car with a flick of his wrist. “Behave, and get inside.”

You planted your feet, halting in your tracks as you shook your head, confused and frustrated. “Wait—what? Why are we leaving so suddenly? I don’t—”

But Sylus wasn’t in the mood for a debate. He turned, his eyes flashing with irritation, and in one swift motion, he pushed the car door open, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as he guided you into the passenger seat. You tried to resist, squirming under his firm hold.

“Get in the car,” he sighed, clearly not in the mood to argue. “Please.”

After a bit more struggle—your alcohol-fueled frustration not making it easy—you finally huffed in defeat and let him guide you into the seat. He shut the door behind you with a sharp click before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat.

You sulked in silence as he started the engine, the low hum of the car doing little to soothe your frustration. You didn’t understand why Sylus was being so forceful all of a sudden, and the abruptness of it all only added to the confusion swirling in your mind. The alcohol still clouded your thoughts, making it hard to argue, and as the car began to move, the steady rhythm of the ride lulled you into an unexpected calm.

Your eyelids grew heavy, and despite the tension of the night, you found yourself slowly drifting off. The next thing you knew, darkness had settled around you, and your body slipped into a deep, alcohol-fueled sleep.

When you woke, you felt yourself being carried, the world around you shifting. The first thing you noticed was Sylus’s steady, strong grip beneath you, his arms holding you close as he walked. You blinked groggily, your vision clearing slightly as you realized you were no longer at the festival—or in the car.

Sylus was carrying you through the dim, industrial halls of his home in the N109 Zone. The walls were dark and sleek, bathed in a soft glow from the faint lights overhead. The cold, sterile air of the house prickled against your skin, sobering you up a little more as you processed what was happening.

A wave of frustration hit you. With your head clearer now, you reached up and pinched his cheek, your fingers digging in as you muttered, “Asshole.”

Sylus let out a soft grunt of surprise, glancing down at you with a bemused look. “Still feisty, I see,” he murmured, though there was an amused glint in his eyes. “How unfortunate that the nap didn't dull your attitude".

You scowled, still annoyed by the way he had just whisked you away without any explanation. “You dragged me away from the festival without even telling me why,” you muttered, your voice sharper now that you were more awake. “What the hell, Sylus?”

He just chuckled softly, ignoring the sting from your pinch. “You were in no state to argue,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact as he carried you further into his home. “And I had enough of babysitting you the whole night.”

“Well I didn't ask you to watch me,” you grumbled, though your body still felt heavy with the lingering effects of alcohol. You squirmed a little in his arms, trying to free yourself, but his grip on you was steady and unyielding.

“You can complain all you want, kitten,” he said with a smirk, “but you needed to get out of there. Trust me.”

You huffed, more irritated now. “Don’t call me kitten,” you muttered, glaring up at him through half-lidded eyes. It was bad enough that he always teased you with that nickname—tonight, it felt like he was deliberately rubbing salt in the wound.

Sylus glanced down at you, his smirk deepening into a mischievous grin. “Why not?” he asked, his voice soft, teasing, as his eyes traveled over your outfit. “You’re dressed like one tonight. Seems even more fitting than usual, doesn’t it?”

Sylus carried you effortlessly through the halls of his home until he reached his room. He set you down gently on the large, plush bed, its softness immediately pulling you in. The sheets felt cool against your skin as you sank into them, your body still heavy with the lingering effects of alcohol.

You watched as Sylus moved across the room, grabbing a glass of water from a nearby table and bringing it back to the nightstand beside the bed. “Drink this,” he said, his voice less teasing now, more gentle. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Go to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes but obediently took a sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. As you placed the glass back down, you realized that the fog in your mind was starting to lift. You weren’t as drunk as you had been earlier—your head was clearer now, though you were still feeling bold enough to be a little reckless.

Sylus walked across the room, settling into a large leather chair near the window, watching you from a distance. He leaned back, his crimson eyes glinting in the low light, clearly still on edge after the events of the night.

But something stirred inside you—a spark of mischievousness born from the alcohol still lingering in your system. You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking of how he had pulled you away from the festival without warning, how he always teased you, and how you could never seem to one-up him. Maybe now was your chance.

You slid out of bed and onto all fours, quietly crawling toward him. Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and warning.

You didn’t answer. Instead, when you reached him, you rested your face against his legs and set your head down in his lap, rubbing your cheek against him in a way that could only be described as cat-like.

For a moment, Sylus just stared at you, processing what you were doing. Then, a low chuckle escaped his lips, and he leaned forward slightly, looking down at you with amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Not only are you dressed like a cat,” he said, his voice laced with playful sarcasm, “but now you’ve decided to act like one too.”

You smirked to yourself, feeling triumphant in your little act of rebellion. “I’m just embracing the part,” you murmured, your voice teasing as you nuzzled your face slightly against his legs.

Sylus’s hand twitched slightly, and for a moment, you wondered if he would push you away—but he didn’t. Instead, he just watched you, his gaze sharp and curious, though there was a flicker of something darker beneath his playful expression.

“Careful, kitten,” he said softly, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous tone that always made your pulse race. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze, the mischief still swirling inside you. “And what if I am?” you challenged, pushing yourself just a little further, enjoying the way his body tensed beneath you.

Sylus’s crimson eyes darkened, his smirk fading slightly as he studied you more closely. There was something electric in the air between you now, the tension palpable as he weighed his next move.

“You’re bold tonight,” he said, his voice softer now, more serious. “Bolder than usual.”

You just smiled up at him, feeling a rush of satisfaction at having thrown him off balance, even if only slightly. “Maybe it’s the cat costume,” you teased, still resting your head in his lap. “Or maybe it’s just you.”

Sylus’s eyes darkened, his smirk growing more predatory as he leaned down slightly, closing the distance between your faces. He looked at you with a gleam of amusement and hunger, his tone shifting to something deeper, more commanding.

“Since you’re feeling so bold,” he said softly, his voice dripping with a dangerous edge, “you should have no problem mewling a little for me then, hm?”

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the sudden shift in tone making your pulse race even faster. The way he looked at you, his gaze intense and unwavering, made your skin prickle with nervous anticipation. He wasn’t playing around anymore. The teasing had escalated, and now he was testing you, pushing you to see how far you would go.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of defiance and something else stirring within you. The tension between you two had never been more palpable, and in that moment, it felt like a line was being drawn—a challenge you weren’t sure if you wanted to accept or retreat from.

Sylus leaned back slightly, his expression amused as he watched the gears turn in your head. “What’s the matter?” he teased, though his voice was softer now, coaxing. “Cat got your tongue?"

You smirked at Sylus’s challenge, the mischievous spark in your eyes growing even brighter. Fine, you thought, two can play at that game.

Without hesitation, you leaned into the role he was teasing you about, doubling down on your boldness. You let out a soft, playful meow, pawing at his legs like a mischievous cat. The alcohol still buzzing in your system only made it easier to fully embrace the act, and you were determined to throw him off balance—if only for a moment.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised at how far you were willing to take the game, but his smirk never wavered. If anything, it deepened as he watched you with amusement, his crimson eyes twinkling with intrigue. “Oh, so we’re really doing this?” he murmured, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

You meowed again, more dramatically this time, your hands pawing at his pants as you looked up at him with exaggerated innocence. You could see the amusement in his eyes, and you knew you had him—at least for now. Deciding to push the limits, you got even closer, deciding to rub your face against his half hard cock hidden beneath his jeans.

Seems he was more affected than he was letting on.

With a mocking grin, Sylus reached down and ran his hand gently over the top of your head, as if petting you like a real cat. “You must be very drunk,” he teased, his voice light and playful. “Acting like a kitten and now letting me pet you? I need a camera.”

But before he could pull his hand away, you leaned forward and bit him—lightly, but enough to make a point. He barely reacted before withdrawing his hand, his eyes widening with mock surprise as he looked down at you.

“Oh?,” Sylus said with a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “You even bite too? What an unpredictable little kitten I have”

You grinned up at him, feeling victorious in your rebellion, the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline making you bolder than ever. “I warned you not to underestimate me,” you teased, your eyes still locked on his, enjoying the game far more than you expected.

Sylus’s playful smirk returned, though there was an undeniable glint of something darker in his gaze. “I think you've forgotten something though” he said softly, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping lower.

"I bite back.”

Your pulse quickened, but you kept your grin in place, unwilling to back down now. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the playful teasing quickly evolving into something far more intense. You had started this game, and now you were both caught in it.

But for now, you weren’t ready to back down. “I think I can handle it,” you replied, your voice light but laced with challenge.

Sylus’s eyes flickered with amusement, but the edge in his gaze remained. “Is that so?”

Before you could react, Sylus stood up abruptly, his towering presence looming over you. Caught off guard, you stumbled backward, landing on your elbows. Instinctively, you began to scoot back, trying to put some distance between you and his intense gaze, but there was nowhere to go. You felt the cool sheets of the bed press against your back as you found yourself cornered, unable to escape the situation you'd playfully started.

Sylus took a slow step forward, his eyes locked on yours, predatory and amused. He enjoyed how you had pushed him, but now it seemed like the tables had turned. You bit your lip, feeling your heart race in a way that wasn’t just from fear or excitement—it was something more.

“Sylus,” you said, your voice half-teasing, half-nervous, “you’re not really going to—” But the words caught in your throat as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours, cutting off any space for escape.

You were about to plead again, but your voice faltered as he lowered himself closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Why so nervous now?” he teased, his voice low and dangerous, echoing your earlier defiance.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the intensity in his gaze rendered you speechless. Instead, all you could do was look at him, your breath catching in your throat as the air around you thickened with anticipation.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice softer now, though the predatory edge was still there, lingering just beneath the surface.

You nodded again, almost breathless. “Y-yes,” you whispered.

Without waiting another moment, Sylus’s lips were on yours. The kiss was slow at first, his hand coming up to cradle your face gently, despite the tension hanging in the air. You melted into the kiss, your mind swimming as his lips moved against yours with a mixture of tenderness and hunger. It was as if he was savoring every second.

But then his lips trailed down, leaving a hot path along your jawline, and before you knew it, he was at your neck. You shuddered, the sensation making your pulse quicken, and just as the heat spread through you, you felt a sharp sting—his teeth sinking into your skin.

You gasped, a groan escaping your lips as the bite sent a jolt of pain through your body. Your hands instinctively gripped the sheets beneath you as your body tensed, your head spinning with the mixture of pain and adrenaline. Sylus’s teeth sank in deeper for just a moment, the pressure sharp but somehow electrifying.

Then, just as suddenly, he pulled back, giving you a moment to catch your breath. His crimson eyes gleamed as he watched your reaction, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he ran his thumb over the spot on your neck where he had bitten you. “You thought I was joking?”

You opened your mouth, trying to find the words, but before you could speak, Sylus leaned in close again, his breath hot against your ear. “Be still,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “You can handle it. Just like you said.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears, and though the bite had hurt, there was something about his voice, his presence, that made you want to give in. Despite yourself, you found your body relaxing under his touch, your breath steadying as you nodded again, almost instinctively.

Sylus smiled, his lips brushing against your neck once more. “Good girl,” he whispered before trailing soft kisses along your skin, his hands firm but gentle as they held you in place.

Before you could respond, his teeth sank into your skin again, this time in a different spot. The bite was just as sharp, if not sharper, and you gasped, your back arching involuntarily as another jolt of pain shot through you. The sting was immediate, but beneath it, there was a strange thrill, an intensity that made your heart race.

Your hands gripped the sheets even tighter as he bit down harder, holding the pressure for a few seconds longer this time. Warm tears begin to pour down your face. The sensation of his teeth against your skin left you both groaning in pain and caught in something deeper, more electric. Each mark he left felt like a brand, a reminder of just how much control he had over you in this moment.

Sylus didn’t pull back right away; instead, he lingered at your neck, sucking gently at the new mark he’d made, as if savoring the taste of your skin. Your breath hitched in your throat, your body trembling beneath him, torn between the sharp sting of the bite and the warmth that followed in its wake.

When he finally released you, he trailed slow, deliberate kisses over the fresh mark, his tongue grazing your skin in a way that made your head spin. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the possessive way his hands held you in place as if daring you to protest.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. All you could do was lay there, breathless, as the intensity of it all washed over you.

Sylus looked down at you, his gaze full of smug satisfaction as he admired the new set of marks he’d left on your neck. His thumb grazed over them gently, tracing the outlines of his bites as if claiming you in some silent, unspoken way.

“You wear my marks well,” he said softly, his voice laced with amusement. “Perhaps you should challenge me more often, kitten.”

Unable to respond, you watch as his lips makes contact with yours again, gentle but devastating. Every nerve in your body sings for him at the contact, and you feel more warm tears finally slip from your eyes to drip down between your lips and his. He pulls back to look at you, wiping those tears away and sighing in pleasure at whatever expression he finds on your face. You curl your fingers in his shirt and tug him back to you, wanting to savor this, but also wanting more, so much more.

Your tongue slips past his, and your fingers tangle into the back of his hair of their own accord. He moans, honest to god moans into your mouth at the contact, and any pretense either of you may have had about this being only a kiss simply evaporates. His mouth moves more insistently against yours, hand cradling the entire side of your face, and you finally allow your hips to push forward, finding him fully hard this time.

He suddenly leans back and pulls his shirt over his head one-handed in a smooth, practiced motion. It's the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen. If you didn't know that almost certainly mind-blowing sex is soon to follow, you'd swear that there's nothing better on this earth than watching Sylus strip his own shirt off to bare that sinful chest. 

He smirks down at you, resting one hand on your hipbone and snaking the other to the waistband of his pants, but that's more than you can take right now. You hook your legs around the back of his and pull him down, desperate, and you shudder as his clothed erection is finally brought flush against your arousal. 

"Sylus, please," you whine, trusting that he knows what you're begging for. His fingers tighten and relax on your hip as if by reflex, and you can barely think straight around your need to have him inside you. 

"You're sure?" he huffs, capturing your mouth again, and you'd laugh if you weren't fit to combust from desire. 

"God, I'm sure." You don't think you've ever wanted anything more in your life, to be honest.

Sylus's lips pull up into another satisfied smirk against yours, and his fingers dig into your flesh with intent this time as he leans back again. "Maybe we should wait until you're more sober-"

"No!" you interrupt him, probably too quickly, and he quirks an eyebrow again. "Um, I mean...I'm good."

"You're good?" he asks, and fuck, it's so hard to think around this insistent, burning desire. You could sense his small hesitation and become desperate to ease his worries surrounding your state of mind.

"Yeah," you tell him again, as pointedly as you can while impatient with lust. "The nap really helped, I'm okay."

He hesitates a moment longer, and you feel like your about to combust with need.

"Sylus. I want you. All of you." You reach a hand out to cup the length of him through his pants, delighting in the narrowing in his eyes and the shudder that goes through him. A sudden thrill of confidence has you saying the filthiest thing you've ever said before you can stop yourself.

"I want you to cum inside me. Please."

You think the look in his eyes might be a little bit feral as he turns his full attention back to your body, tugging your skirt . He slips his fingers into your panties with no preamble, and he sighs appreciatively at the slick he feels there. "You've wanted this for a long time, haven't you?"

He's going to drive you insane, and when you tell him as much, his only response is to tear the garment down your legs, toss it behind him, and press two fingers inside of you. You choke and gasp his name as he grins wickedly down at you.

"Yeah, you have." He presses deeper, thumb brushing your clit, and you can't hold back a desperate cry. 

"Sylus, please-" 

"Fuck..." His eyes trail down to where his fingers are buried, and you'd be self-conscious if you had even a single brain cell to spare that isn't consumed by pleasure. "Do you know how long I've wanted this, gorgeous? The second I saw you in that costume I wanted to tear it off".

You can only gasp and buck your hips shamelessly as he continues, murmuring encouragement and looking both as smug and as charming as he ever has. This feels so good, so unreal, his slender fingers hitting all the right spots inside you while his thumb continues rubbing lazy circles outside. You can hardly believe that the same fingers your eyes have lingered on as they hold bullets or curl around a trigger - the same hands you've seen kill countless times - are now the gentle architects of your mind-numbing pleasure. 

"Come on, that's it," Sylus coos with a particularly delicious quirk of those fingers, pulling you out of hazy memories and back to what you realize is now an imminent orgasm. Your eyes drag from the stark outline of his erection against his pants, up his chest and to his face, where you catch him biting his lip in his concentration.

"Sylus-" Your hips buck against his hand as the tension coils inside you. "I'm-" 

"I know. Go head and cum kitten," he says with another devilish grin, and god, he's going to be the end of you. 

"Sylus," you gasp again, reduced to this mindless desperation as his talented fingers work you while your release hovers just out of reach. "Please, I'm-" 

He finally takes pity on you and ducks his head to seal his mouth over your clit, and fuck, what you wouldn't give for more of that, but after all this build-up, one brush of his tongue is all it takes to send you hurtling over the edge. Both of your hands fist in his hair as you shudder under him, gasping and keening, and you feel him groan against your sensitive flesh. 

Eventually, he pulls away, though it takes you several more seconds to come back to earth. When you open your eyes, it's to find him stripped down to nothing, hovering over you again with a self-satisfied expression. 

"God," you say, still not recovered, and then, because you can't help it, your eyes drop to his cock. It's as beautiful as the rest of him, rigid and straining for you. Your core throbs again as you realize that getting you off is what got him this worked up. Fuck. 

How as that possibly going to fit?

"It'll fit, don't worry" he says, as if able to read your mind. You don't even have to look at him to know that he's grinning. 

You groan and throw an arm over your eyes to resist the very real temptation to stare at Sylus's naked body for the rest of your life. You feel him move closer, dropping down onto his palms above you, and you lift your arm to watch him settle between your thighs like he's always belonged there. 

"You want to do this?" he asks softly, red eyes searching yours for one last confirmation, and you respond with a few tiny, shaky nods. He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip with a quiet sigh. "Let me hear you say it, beautiful." 

"Yes, Sylus," you plead, tears burning again at the corners of your eyes, and he hums his pleasure against your lips as he lines himself up. You inhale sharply through your teeth as you feel the first breach of his cock, holding that breath in your lungs as he slowly sinks in to the hilt. Christ, he's big. 

"Breathe, kitten" he reminds you, still disarmingly gentle, though you can see the smug satisfaction plainly on his face. He braces himself on his forearms to pepper kisses along your neck and jaw, pulling out to slowly slide back in with a deep groan.

Your hands fist in his hair, and you think you might be onto something with that when his chuckle melts into a moan. He eyes lock onto yours as he buries himself as deep as he can again, and you're taken aback by the open adoration you see on his face - you can only hope your own face is mirroring that for him. 

He slides out and in again, again, slowly falling into a steady rhythm that's better than anything you've ever felt in your life. For an endless time, there's nothing else - it's just the two of you, bodies coming together in pleasure, the occasional rougher thrust making you gasp his name as he mouths yours against your skin.

Sylus's hips suddenly still and he drops his head beside yours, heavy breaths hot against your ear. You shift underneath him, relishing the feel of his length still thick inside you but needy for him to move.

"Just need a second," he pants, sounding as wrecked as you feel. "I'm not ready to be done with you yet, sweetie." 

And oh, if your heart (and your aethercore) could explode from words alone, those would do it. The most divine human being you've ever known is lying here staving off an orgasm so that he can keep fucking you. And he just called you sweetie. 

Yeah, you're totally dead and gone. 

You lie there for a few moments, matching your breaths to his and kneading your fingers into the firm planes of his back. An appreciative groan rumbles out of him, and he pulls back to slide out of you, silencing your noise of protest with a finger to your lips and a low chuckle.

"You'll get what you want," he admonishes, grasping one of your hips to give it a slight push. "Patience, kitten" 

He leans back, and you catch a glimpse of his cock, hard against the vee of his hips and glistening with your wetness. Fuck. You shift your legs apart, and he's back on you immediately, one hand digging into the flesh of your ass and the other bracing itself next to your shoulder. 

"Good girl," Sylus breathes into your ear, and you go boneless as he sheathes himself in your slick heat once more. "Good fucking girl, taking me so well." 

You're beyond being able to respond to his filthy praise with anything other than gasps and moans, but he doesn't seem to mind, taking them as encouragement to fuck you even harder and bring your bodies flush together. When his hips snap forward, driving him deep, deeper, you swear you see stars. God, this angle is otherworldly, his cock hitting your most sensitive spot with each perfect thrust. Your hands cling desperately to his biceps, feeling those mouthwatering muscles ripple as he holds you tighter. Sylus's fingers wrap gently around your neck as his teeth nip your ear, and you cry out, feeling a familiar heat and tension begin to build within you. 

"So close again?" he growls, each breath harsh as he fucks into you. "Shit...feels so fucking good." 

Yeah, you're fucking close, if the steady stream of "yes" and "please" pouring from your lips and the almost painful way you're gripping his cock is anything to go on. You might even be sobbing now, who the fuck knows. His fingers clench against the pulse jumping in your neck, and there it is-

You glance up at him, muscles taut as he thrusts, and it's over for you, even before his eyes flick up to yours as he breathes,

"Cum for me." 

Your body shakes against him as another orgasm barrels through you, and you think you might actually scream this time, which is a shame because you're sure Sylus is saying some delectable shit to you right now. He doesn't let up, cock still pounding into you relentlessly, and when you finally come down from your high, it's to find his moans coming out broken and his thrusts rougher than ever. He's close. He's right there. You're not sure what possesses you in that moment, but you reach a hand between your bodies and close your fingers gently around his balls. Your efforts are rewarded with stuttering hips and a glorious, drawn-out groan as Sylus cums hard, his face shoved roughly into your shoulder. 

You take a moment as he pants against you, the aftershocks of your own orgasm still thrumming through you, to stare at the ceiling in disbelief that this is real life. You just had sex with Sylus. The leader of Onychinus. You're desperately in love with him and he might just feel the same about you. 

When his hips finally still and he stops panting into your skin, you begin guide his face closer to yours, relishing the way he rests his full weight on top of you without thinking, dazed as he is in his own pleasure. He pulls your face toward his to capture your lips in another blistering kiss, this one unexpectedly tender after his ferocity only moments ago, and you moan softly through it at the feel of his cock still solid inside you. 

You both catch your breath against the pillows for a few moments before he whispers that he's going to pull out, and you brace yourself for that final slide of his cock. Fuck, that should not feel as good as it does, especially considering that in the same second you have to clench your thighs to keep his release inside of you. Sylus lays on his back beside you with a sigh of contentment, and you turn carefully to lie right alongside him. You slide your hand over to his, not sure why you're feeling shy about this when you just got done being thoroughly fucked by him, but you feel relieved all the same when his fingers intertwine with yours. 

Your breaths slow as you both lie quietly in the afterglow, and after a time, he turns to face you.

"I trust it goes without saying that you're welcome to stay as long as you like," he says, brushing your hair back from your face, and all of your emotions come rushing back. You love him. You love him.

"What if I never want to leave?" you whisper, and now it's spoken, now it's out there for him to do with as he will. He studies you for a long moment, and it could just be the light of the room reflecting in those red eyes, but you think you see them glistening.

"I think that could be arranged," he finally says, his voice as full of emotion as you've ever heard it, and you feel as though you're drowning in your love for this man. You swallow past the lump in your throat and throw him as playful a smile as you can manage. 

"Well, that's good, because I feel your cum slipping out of me. Might need to put more back in there" you say, emboldened by his now obvious desire for you, but still feeling bashful as you say it. Both of his eyebrows shoot up, and he laughs, a deep, indulgent sound.

"Careful," he purrs, wrapping both arms around you like a vice. "Might get me going again."

"Plenty of time for that later," you tell him, leaning forward to bury yourself in his chest again, hoping your words carry the weight of the three specific ones you're still too embarrassed to say out loud. 

"And more," he murmurs in your ear, arms tightening around you, his words sounding an awful lot like an unspoken affirmation to your unspoken vow. 

This wasn't such a bad Halloween after all.

[luvsupa]

004 | WAS IT REAL?

tags: trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, ANGST, mind games, fluff (kinda), they’re both in love with each other but sukuna is stubborn, still don’t know what else to add

w.c: about 2k (sorry its lowkey short)

a/n: THANK U GUYS FOR SUPPORTING MEEE IM SO THANKFULLLL 🫶🏽🫶🏽 just finished my assignments so I had to post this (sorry it’s late)🙂‍↕️

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated !!

the room is filled with a suffocating silence as you lie propped against the intricately carved headboard, your legs sprawled across the bed. toji is between your thighs, hiding your lower body from sukuna’s intense gaze as he stands in the doorway. your body is on fire, not just from sukuna’s sudden appearance but from the intense orgasm you itching to release but now cruelly interrupted.

sukuna’s patience seems to be wearing thin. each beat of your heart echoes in the quiet room, a reminder that today might be the end for both you and toji. after a long pause, toji decided to pay attention to sukuna as he huffs at the fact he had to cut his time short with you. he couldn’t eat you out without you pleading another man’s name. toji rises from between your thighs, his expression a mix of defiance and amusement as he kneels, leaving you breathless and wide-eyed.

does he really want to have sex in front of sukuna? has he lost his mind?

toji’s chuckle is almost as unsettling as sukuna’s silence. he begins to undress, his black haori slipping off his shoulders to reveal a finely sculpted torso, gleaming under the dim light. the sweat on his muscles makes his physique even more enticing.

“calm y’erself,” toji coos, draping his haori over you as a shield against sukuna’s piercing gaze. “we wouldn’t want our fearsome king to see what’s mine, would we?”

sukuna still remains eerily quiet, his stillness more frightening than any of his previous outbursts. your heart swells at toji’s protective gesture, though the dread of sukuna’s silence weighs heavily on you. you and toji now lie side by side, leaning against the headboard, facing the imposing figure of sukuna.

“if you wanted to join us, ryo, you could’ve just asked,” toji teases, his tone light but laced with mockery. sukuna crosses all four of his arms, his biceps straining against his custom made kimono. his face remains a mask of indifference, amplifying the fear that his silence breeds.

the room falls back into an oppressive quiet, broken only by your rapid, uneven breathing. sukuna’s calm demeanour is far scarier than any display of anger could be. you long for him to shout or act out—absolutely anything but his silence.

then, unexpectedly, sukuna bursts into… laughter? the sound is a dark, guttural roar that shatters the silence, his mirthless humour echoing through the room. you exchange confused glances with toji, both of you bewildered by this bizarre reaction. sukuna’s laughter continues as he clutches the wooden frame of the bed for support, hysterically laughing as your heart beats faster.

his four arms clapping in a mocking applause. his cruel amusement makes you feel small, as if you’re the butt of a cruel joke that’s neither funny nor forgivable.

“ah, you truly are naive; it’s fascinating,” sukuna purrs, his voice dripping with venom as he approaches you. the unsettling praise only deepens your confusion. as you try to seek solace from toji, sukuna’s grip on your chin forces you to meet his gaze. he crouches to your level, his four red glowing eyes boring into yours as he lightly pets your head, playing with your hair in a disturbingly tender way.

“k-kuna, i’m sorry,” you stammer, your voice trembling with fear. the way he addresses you, with an almost soft expression, sends shivers down your spine. “how can a single mortal be so weak and foolish that i find myself feeling sorry for you?” he says, his words cutting deep. tears start to form, blurring your vision.

as you struggle to process his words, you realize the room’s silence grew louder. you glance to the space beside you and find that toji has vanished. panic surges through you, your breath quickening as sukuna’s dark chuckle echoes with your growing horror.

wait.

in that moment it feels as though you’ve plunged into the abyss, your entire being sinking deeper and deeper, your soul being wrenched away by an unseen force.

you open your eyes, gasping for air, and look around. the dinner?

confusion grips you as you see everyone absorbed in their meals, lost in conversation. you glance at your hands, pinching yourself and wincing at the sting, painfully aware that this is no dream.

was i daydreaming about toji? 

did sukuna ever speak to me in his room? 

your mind spins, unable to distinguish between dream and reality. you look up from where you were standing, behind toji, and meet sukuna’s gaze. his smirk is predatory, and you feel as if you’re being consumed by a dark, suffocating force.

there’s no way.

no.

sukuna’s smile stretches wider as he nods, a knowing, almost sadistic gleam in his eyes. your blood runs cold.

he’s the mastermind. he planted every disturbing thought in your head—the moments with toji, the intimate scenes, the claims of possession—all illusions, all his cruel manipulation.

he wanted to break you, to see how easily he could worm his way into your psyche, how far he could push you before you shattered, and he’s just getting started. his amusement at your torment was his twisted pleasure during dinner, with no one else to entertain him. not even yorozu, seated beside him, could distract him. but watching you, standing behind toji, your gaze almost eye fucking toji was all it took for sukuna to unleash his dark games.

you feel the heat rising in your body, and the clothes you’re wearing suddenly feel stifling. overwhelmed by embarrassment, you storm out of the dining hall, desperately trying to steady your breath as you walk down the hallway.

tears well up in your eyes as you grapple with the realization that you’re nothing more than a pawn in his twisted game, his mind games manipulating you at will.

you truly are naive it’s fascinating,

his words echo in your mind, a haunting that drives you mad. as you turn a corner, you use your hands to dab at your eyes, trying to keep the tears at bay. suddenly, you freeze when you spot sukuna standing right in the middle of the hallway, his presence making you jump.

“did you enjoy that dirty little fantasy?” he purrs, his tone dripping with amusement as he grips your arm, forcing you to listen to his taunting. “quite nasty of you to have those thoughts during dinner,” he teases, his face twisting into a mock-disgusted expression.

“are you in love with me?” you blurt out shakily, avoiding his gaze as you try to hold back your tears. sukuna looks taken aback by your blunt question, his eyes widening in surprise.

“how dare you ask me such a foolish question. have you bumped your head on the way here?” he retorts, his tone a mix of aggression and confusion. you wince slightly as he tightens his grip on your arm.

“you’re with yorozu, but you’ve got me on your mind. you’re afraid of love, so you’re content to love me from a distance,” you assert, watching as sukuna’s face goes from offended to intrigued. he loosens his grip on your arm, a slow smile spreading across his face.

“I see what this is about,” he says, stepping closer and backing you against the wall, his enormous frame towering over you. the sheer height and intensity of his presence are overwhelming, and as he presses you against the wall as one of his large hand grips your jaw, you can barely breathe.

“you’re jealous that I’m with her and not you, aren’t you? do you wish you were in her place?”

“you’re avoiding my question—you plant these thoughts in my head so I can never be with anyone else but you,” you accuse, noticing the twitch of one of his lower eyes as both your breathings become shallow. sukuna’s face inches closer to yours, his intense eye contact and touch almost making you whimper. his lips are so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your face.

you tentatively reach up, running your fingers through his soft, pink hair. as you do, sukuna’s eyes flutter closed, a deep purr escaping his lips. he leans into your touch, his face drawing ever closer to yours, almost as if he’s going to kiss you. the sensation of his hair beneath your fingers and the closeness of his face send shivers through you, and for a moment, you realize that the king of curses is wrapped around your finger, caught in a vulnerable moment of your doing.

but then, sukuna snaps back to reality. his red eyes narrow with fury as he realizes how close he came to fully surrendering to your touch. his anger flares, and he pins both your hands above your head, slamming them against the wall with such force that you’re acutely aware of how tall and imposing he is.

“I could replace you with a snap of my fingers—you mean nothing to me,” he growls, his words slicing through you like a dagger.

“then do it,” you challenge, meeting his fiery eyes with your own defiant glare. sukuna’s eyes glint with a mix of surprise and admiration at your boldness.

“tsk, what happened to your timid behaviour?” he taunts, his grip on your arms tightening with each word. you remain silent, questioning your own sudden courage. sukuna’s grip begins to loosen as you drop your gaze in defeat, and with a frustrated storming off, he leaves you standing there, feeling both defeated.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

night falls as you and the other servants finish cleaning up the dishes and sweeping the kitchen after the guests have left. having completed your duties, you inform everyone you’re done for the day, and they bid you goodnight. as you walk down the familiar hallway, you glance up to see one of the balcony doors upstairs standing wide open. concerned that one of the servants or maids might have left it open, you quickly take a detour in the direction of the servant quarters and towards the staircase.

when you reach the balcony doors, you peek through and see a tall figure standing outside, enjoying the cool breeze and gazing up at the stars.

“toj’?” you call out, and he turns to look at you, a hint of confusion crossing his face at the nickname you’ve used.

“did you call me toj’ because the thoughts he placed in your head” he asks with a smirk, clearly having overheard your earlier conversation with sukuna. realizing that you and toji had never interacted before, you stammer an apology. he chuckles, reassuring you that it’s okay.

“how much did you hear?” you ask, closing the balcony doors behind you to give you both some privacy as you step further onto the balcony.

“everything.”

oh.

“well—”

“do you love him?” he asks bluntly, his gaze still on the stars as the question hangs between you. his sudden honesty makes you pause, staring at the night sky with him, the moonlight casting a serene glow over the garden below.

“w-when i first met him, i did. he even wanted me for himself,” you admit, watching as toji nods. “but now he tortures me—playing mind games and flaunting that other woman.”

a silence falls between you as you both take in the peaceful night. the stars twinkle brightly, and the moon hangs low, its light reflecting softly off the surrounding trees. you and toji stand there for a while, breathing in the fresh air, letting the moment stretch out, a quiet respite from the chaos of your thoughts.

“i’ve heard enough—how about you serve me and my clan?” toji finally says, breaking the silence. his bluntness catches you off guard, and you turn to him, wide-eyed.

“do you really think he’d let me leave to serve another clan—”

“when my stay is over, come with me. we’ll take you in as part of our family and treat you properly,” he offers, and the idea sounds tempting. you fidget with your fingers, considering his proposal.

“but if you prefer to stay in this hellhole, that’s up to you—”

“i’ll come with you,” you say decisively. toji’s smile widens, his scar stretching as he looks at you approvingly.

“don’t worry y’er pretty head about how you’re getting with me, I already know a plan.” 

[loserlvrss]

𝐀 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 l. minho ( 이민호 )

synopsis | minho will always take care of who he loves, and you love that.

pairing : lee minho x fem!reader genre : drabble, domestic fluff warnings : mentions of being sick & food, skinship word count : 0.6k authors note : i know u know lee know btw

“just sit down,” your boyfriend was pushing you into the barstool beside the kitchen island.

your arms crossed over your front, features pouting. “you know, minho, i’m sick, not useless.” you exaggerated with your hands, swinging them out beside you. “i can—i can, i don’t know, cut up the carrot or something!”

he smiled adoringly at you, like one would a cute animal or small child, and shook his head. “what kind of chef boyfriend would i be if i made you do the work?”

you rolled your eyes, knowing that it was ultimately useless to argue with the lee minho; he’d get what he wanted in the end. and frankly, you weren’t good at cooking. that’s why you two worked so well, he had his little hobby to destress and you were always fed. a win-win.

so, when you woke up in the middle of the night with a stomach ache, only sleeping a couple hours after that, he was quick to jump into the kitchen. he wanted to make you something his mom would make when he was sick as a kid—you found the gesture sickeningly sweet. he must really love you, you thought.

he’d gotten started in silence. usually he’d let you talk about everything and nothing at the same time, but he’d never pry if you didn’t feel like it. and, today must’ve been one of those days, as you just watched with closed lips.

he looked so beyond good when he cooked—arguably better than the food. and nothing was more attractive than his desire to take care of you. he didn’t even go back to sleep until he knew you were okay, trailing you into the bathroom and getting you medicine before you even asked. he made sure you were warm and properly cuddled under the blankets (in his arms), rubbing your back until peacefully off in dreamland.

honestly, you owe those couple of hours to him.

“hey, minho?” the silence was finally broken, your boyfriend stopping all his movements for a second and looking at you. his eyebrows rose in a non-verbal approval to go on and ask. “i know we’re already dating, but i have a big crush on you. i just thought you should know.”

he huffed out a laugh, “is that so?”

“yeah, in case you want to do anything with that knowledge.” you admitted innocently, “like marriage or something.”

“i plan on it, love.”

you made a face, something between disbelief, mock-disgust and blushing. “if you were over here i’d kiss you… thrice.”

he eyed you suspiciously, “you just didn’t want to say twice ‘cause then i’d start dancing to alcohol free.”

“maybe,” you joked, getting from your chair and making your way around the counter. he pretended to be offended, steadily chopping up the various vegetables again, and ignoring you. “you know i love your one-man show, baby.”

he smirked slightly—though you couldn’t see—but still was childishly giving you the silent treatment. you pleaded, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his clothed spine once, before pressing your cheek to it. “there’s literally no one else i’d rather listen to sing red velvet while they shower.”

“i knew you listened, weirdo.” he chuckled, “if you wanted me to sing to you, i would, you don’t have to creep around.”

you lightly squeezed, “oh, shut up.”

and then suddenly he burst out into song, scaring you, but then sending you into a fit of giggles as the choreography soon followed; the knife safely out of his grip.

you watched in awe of his playfulness, disguised by straight lips and lidded eyes. you really couldn’t read a book by its cover, you thought, because this stupidly-handsome book always knew how to make you feel better.

please reblog and like <3 comments are appreciated ! thank you 4 reading © loserlvrss 2024 all rights reserved. 

networks : @blossomnet @starlit-network @k-films @kstrucknet

taglist : @seomisaho @mystarsohee @jihyokat | send an ask to be added. 

back to masterlist !

[higaneion]

an adrenaline filled kiss shared after committing a crime

(they're both covered in dirt, scrapes and bruises from the mad scramble to get out and away; some guards had caught wind of their escape, and it was all the two of them could do to get out with their hides intact. a passing carriage guaranteed them an undetected ticket out, and lilina had successfully hauled chad on, his boots tracking a whisper of dust. the two of them spill into the carriage, wheezing and heaving, unknown cargo to an unwitting merchant.

... they're safe?

oh, thank the saints, they're safe.

relief blinds them, as it's wont to do when they coil up in anticipation of grief anew. impulsively, they pull lilina into their arms, press their nose into the top of her head (oh, her hat fell off), press a kiss to the crown of it, shaking a bit from the adrenaline of it all.

"wediditwediditwedidit...")

A soft thud from her hat falling unceremoniously to the floor is the only thing that sounds off besides the wheels churning beneath them. At least the air served to cool the sweat and calm her senses. Her hat is of no concern right now anyway as she is pulled into a full embrace by Chad. Blue eyes remain glazed over, distant, still processing the events that seemed like several minutes and mere seconds at the same time. They had found an interlude. For now. 

          The merchant would eventually pull over for a pause from the road, check the status of their cargo, and find two dirty children who had no right being in the middle of ( quite valuable judging by the caution and fragile logos stamped on it ) shipments. Thieves. They might accuse them and call for reinforcement, turn them in, who knows what else. Yes, they were thieves, but of a different kind; one of time and wit ( and luck ) as they managed their escape, just barely.

          They stay in this position for a minute until she comes back to her senses. What was their next plan of action? She blinks, inhaling the earthy smell of his embrace, there was a tinge of leather and wheat to it. Around her, the wall that held her still was crumbling, so she nestled her head into their chest and snaked her arms around them, trying to piece together what she could. Sighing, she grows accustomed to the smell, reminding her of freshly baked bread from days that seemed so far away now. 

          A red-orange sliver of light peeks through the crack of the sliding door. Lilina shifts slightly to look up at them through big blue eyes and recently dried lashes. Beneath a tattered, worn cloak and daggers, Chad was still a boy with thunder and silk woven in their heart.

          Sitting back on her heels properly once she believes she is able, she smooths the wrinkles in her clothes. “We might still have time before our driver pauses. We should sleep in shifts and conserve our energy before we move on.”

[racew1nn3rs]

hello luna !! i’m in love with your blog & vibes <3 i hope you are having a lovely day and would just like to request or just let out my thoughts really:

charles and a (fem) reader who really just loves to be spoilt and coddled, whether willing to admit it or not, and treated like the pillow princess really both in and out of the bedroom bc honestly i’m just craving some writing or thoughts on my favourite monégasque boy absolutely just indulging in me. thank you lots sweets!

AGHHH SO MANY THOUGHTS ANON. SO MANY THOUGHTS, SO I'M GIVING U A LITTLE BLURB!

18+, MDNI!!

out of the bedroom charles is just such a genuine sweetheart that yes, he will hold your bag, and of course he'll hold your shoes, and obviously he'll buy you that necklace. youre his girl, taking care of you isn't only natural it's a must. and he feeds into it so much, like truly to a ridiculous extent.

he's the type to still hold your hand and use it like his own while doing things that require both hands so he doesn't have to let go just because he knows you want to be held at all times at all costs. all it takes is some well-timed puppy dog eyes and anything you ask for is yours in an instant. he's just so happy at the prospect of making you smile that he can't fathom telling you no or letting you go even for a second.

in the bedroom, he's nearly the same. anything you whine or plead for sounds so pretty he just can't tell you no. you want more, he's giving you so much you can't even handle it. you want it harder, softer, slower, it doesn't matter what it is he's immediately groaning and complying. he is not one to say no to his girl, even if it means overstimulating you both to high hell in order to do so. he never makes you work for it, and he never teases for long, because he wants to hear you moaning and blissed out ASAP.

he also never falls short on aftercare. he's taking a bath with you, feeding you snacks and water, and cuddling with you for the next 5 hours (fuck his responsibilities 🙄 his spoiled princess comes first guys dw)

anyways i love this i had so many thoughts but this is what i had off the top of my head.

i was so excited to see an ask 😭 so please keep sending in ideas guys i love making fics (especially smau LMAO)