#the sides are so long and smooth and neat???

[jula483]

HAIR

(x)

[nyatbinary-81]

@vulpixisananimal sifstem art jumpscare!! more specifically i got bored and decided to mess around with sif and mal's outfits.

[celestialtarot11]

Future Spouse PAC—

Hi friends! Highly requested—a future pick a spouse reading. I appreciate all of you for being here <3 please like, comment and reblog to help this blog grow! Your presence means the world. It’s also 11:11 as I type this so for anyone who needs this here you go.

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1! Hope all is well in your world. For you I see a lot of prominence in your future spouse. They are physically well dressed, put together and appear luxurious. They can invest in quality brands and wear clothing that makes them feel good. I’m seeing someone wear a long tail coat and it emphasizes their height, because it’s slender and yet angular. This person has a great sense of fashion! I heard fashion icon. Some people may look to your future spouse for inspiration, and I heard designer. So perhaps they work closely with others in a artistic sense! They could be a Leo, Taurus or Capricorn. This is also someone who is generous with their energy and resources so if someone needs help they will offer it! Humble, has humility and carries themselves well. I have a feeling this is someone slightly older than you! They could have a pet as well, maybe a parrot for someone or a budgie. Cute! But back to their generosity I feel they give back to their community a lot, and may donate, raise funds for charity! There’s this soothing angelicness to them which people are drawn to, and their smile is also soft and beautiful! It’s something you’ll really like! I also see boyish rugged features for those who are interested in men. And for women I see chubby cheeks, fuller lips and lighter eyes! Your person can be on the taller side :) As for their hobbies may include hiking, skiing, camping! They may go with family as well. They could also be into religious studies like studying different religions, cultures and traditions. They may not necessarily be religious, but study the bible or Quran for example. They just love to learn. Thank you pile 1 for being here! Means a lot to me. Hope you like comment and reblog <3

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2! Haha for you I got a very elusive slippery energy from your future spouse. I feel as though in their younger years they were really hot. They were a know it all. They were charming, devious and funny. And they still are! They’ve certainly still got it going. I do feel as though when you meet them you might pick up on those traits from their past and stay away—but this person has identified that they want a deeper commitment here with you. They have grown a lot and instead of chasing cat and mouse, they are confident in attracting the right person. They don’t want games anymore, I’m hearing they don’t have time for it. So your person could be very busy and on the go often, like traveling to other states or places for work. It requires them to constantly be moving. I feel as though there is an element of long distance here but not necessarily forever! They can be foreign, as well. Different culture, values, traditions. But I think this’ll draw them in even more to you and vice versa. I feel this person has worked their way up to developing self respect and esteem, so they may be a bit intimidating at first. I see honey blonde hair, fair to tan skin, and tall figure. They can have toned figures and look as if they work out. They may be into sports of some kind that challenges their body. They need to get that energy out, i feel as though they’re like electricity, constantly sparking and looking to connect to a source. They can be scattered and flighty because their job is demanding of them, but they mean well. They’re funny, confident, boisterous, and charming! Very smooth with their word so expect them to charm your pants off ;) They may have black hair and keep it neatly trimmed! For men I see a neat beard and it isn’t long, it’s not a stubble either. It defines their face very well and I feel they have intense eyes. For women I see brown hair, thinner lips and green eyes! Or just lighter eyes in general. I feel they’re known as muscle mommy 😭 because their body is toned. Thank you pile 2 for being here! Any likes comments and reblogs are appreciated.

Pile 3: Okay right away pile 3 Electric by Alina Baraz began to play! Lol hope your day has been well. I feel as though this person is intense, stern and firm at first. I heard CEO. What kind of wattpad love story is this? Lmfao im hooked. Anyway, this person could have a higher position in your job and I do feel how you meet is they help you out. They may offer you a position, or talk to you, and somehow it slips out that you’re struggling. Im seeing two people meet for coffee in the lounge room and hitting it off, and its unexpected. I feel you two may expect a purely professional relationship but no—this is something deeper. There’s this feeling of intimacy and closeness with you two, like you two saw each other a long time ago and now you’re meeting again. Very familiar and comforting. Feels like 4h synastry! I love that. I do feel as though your future spouse is a provider and doesn’t mind if you want to take the reigns in bed too ;) they are skilled I should mention. I also feel they are someone who tries to understand what their emotions are and what its telling them. So you can help them, maybe you understand emotional processing better and can guide them. They’ll guide you through the material world and offer insights, and help you feel stable financially. I almost feel as though you’re the spiritual one and they are in touch with the material realm. So they are stunned when they hear of your spiritual journey and not only that but attracted. They feel tempted by what they don’t understand. Speaking of temptation—theres a lot. Psychologically it’s tempting to fall into old patterns and I feel as though this connection is helping you release that, but also intimately the temptation is there! Very strong. “Darker than the ocean, deeper than the sea.” I keep hearing that from the song and it describes the depth of your connection when you two meet. I also hear, “touch me, your electric baby.” So you two will definitely feel it. Its unmistakable! A little work romance never hurt anyone LOL that’s what I heard. Someone is saying it like a hushed whisper so I feel ya’ll will physically get closer to talk to one another—it’s an unconscious action yet so intimate. There’s a lot of unspoken tension here between you two. Anyways pile 3 enjoy <3 I hope this helped you! And please don’t forget to like comment and reblog to share the love.

Extra

Paid readings 🤍

[ohproserpine]

for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.

"Cher!"

Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.

Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.

"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.

Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.

Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.

"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.

"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."

"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.

Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.

"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."

“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."

Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.

"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.

He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.

"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.

The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.

"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."

Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."

"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.

You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."

"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.

"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."

"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.

"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.

"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"

"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.

"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.

"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."

"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.

So this is what it's about?

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.

Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.

"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.

His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.

"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."

Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.

“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”

A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.

But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.

"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.

"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.

Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.

"Then you shall suffer the consequences."

[sushiyuzu]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄

type: special halloween oneshot

pairing: sylus x fem!reader

cw/genre: nsfw/smut (*mdni)，fluff，romance，tension

summary: when celebrating halloween together, sylus wants to show you how a true dracula indulges in the night 🦇🖤

start to end: 27/10/2024 – 29/10/2024 ᝰ.ᐟ

a/n: hey everyone! i just wrapped up a special halloween oneshot that took me three days and probably more caffeine than i care to admit. it’s a super long read—over 7,000 words! (i think) so, grab your fav snacks, get comfy, and prepare to be entertained. i promise it’s worth your time, or at least that’s what i keep telling myself 💀

happy (early) halloween, and enjoy the read! 🎃

halloween night has finally come, and your heart beats faster with excitement and nerves as you step into sylus’s mansion in your 6-inch heels.

the grand entrance is decorated beautifully, with soft cobwebs and candles flickering everywhere. shadows dance on the marble floor, and you catch the faint scent of pumpkin spice in the air. it feels perfectly festive, and you wonder if sylus is the one who set it all up.

you hope he is.

you take a final look in the mirror. your costume is a stunning female vampire. your dark red dress fits perfectly, hugging your curves, with lace that adds a touch of elegance. the high slit on the side reveals just enough of your leg, and your makeup is bold with dark eyeliner and deep red lipstick. your hair is neat, framing your face. you even added fake fangs to complete the fierce look.

you and sylus had been discussing and planning to celebrate halloween together a few nights back. though onychinus and linkon city were far from each other, the distance felt like a small obstacle in your high-tech world, where the cities glittered with neon lights and transport drones zipped between them.

“we’ll make it special,” he had promised over the holo-call, his figure flickering slightly in the blue light. you could see the excitement in his crimson eyes, even through the hazy, digital screen. he described his plans with that rare spark in his voice, talking about turning his mansion into an eerie, gothic wonderland for the night.

“and i want you there,” he’d added softly, his voice barely a whisper, almost like he feared the city might hear him. “just us, no distractions, no noise.”

you’d laughed, feeling the warmth in his words despite the sci-fi distance between you. “i wouldn’t miss it for anything,” you’d replied, already counting down the hours to leave the metallic bustle of linkon city behind and step into sylus’s world for halloween.

now, as you walk through the mansion, you notice the dim lighting and rich decorations, making everything feel warm but mysterious. paintings line the walls, and antique furniture adds a timeless charm. each corner is dressed up for halloween, from the grand dining room to the cozy living room.

then, you hear footsteps.

sylus steps into view, and your breath catches. he looks absolutely breathtaking in his dracula costume. his black suit fits him perfectly, and a long red cape flows behind him. his silver hair is slicked back, making his red eyes shine even brighter in the candlelight. he has this confidence and elegance that makes your heart race.

“ah, my enchanting vampire,” he says in a smooth, inviting voice. “you look absolutely captivating tonight.”

you can’t help but blush at his compliment. “thank you, sylus. you look incredibly dashing as well.”

he strides closer, his presence both bold and intimidating. you feel a thrill of excitement as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “i must admit,” he says, his gaze intense and appreciative. “the sight of you is almost enough to make me forget my role.”

you smile, feeling a flutter of joy in your chest. “i can’t wait to see what you have planned for us tonight.”

he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. the mixture of confidence and charm in his voice earlier sends a thrill down your spine.

sylus gestures for you to follow him into the grand living room. the space is decorated with elegant orange and black accents, the walls are adorned with gothic decorations: carved skulls, and eerie portraits, and a table filled with treats waits for you. there are chocolate-covered strawberries, ghost-shaped cookies, and a large bowl of punch with floating eyeball-shaped fruits. it all looks delicious.

you smile, looking around at everything. huh, sylus really does have a talent for detail.

“let’s indulge in some delightful treats before the festivities commence,” he says, his voice filled with charm. he leads you to the table, pouring a glass of punch for each of you.

as you snack on the treats, the cozy atmosphere wraps around you like a warm blanket. the candlelight flickers off the walls, creating a magical, mysterious feeling. sylus leans back against the plush sofa, his confident demeanor making him seem both bold and relaxed. he lifts a chocolate-covered strawberry to his lips, and you can’t help but watch as he bites into it, the sweet juices spilling slightly.

“do you know what happened during my first halloween?” he asks out of nowhere, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. you nod, intrigued.

“i was dressed as a ghost—an elegant one, of course,” he continues, his crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. “but instead of scaring anyone, i tripped over my own cape and ended up falling into a pumpkin patch.”

you burst into laughter, picturing the usually composed sylus tumbling into a sea of pumpkins, his serious nature shattered for a moment. “i can’t imagine that! you falling into pumpkins sounds hilarious!” you exclaim, your laughter echoing in the cozy room.

he chuckles softly, the sound rich and deep, making your heart flutter. “oh, it was quite embarrassing. luke and kieran still tease me about it to this day.” his expression turns nostalgic as he recalls the memory, and you notice a rare, softer side of him—a side that allows himself to be vulnerable with you.

only with you.

“i can picture it now,” you say, grinning. “you covered in orange goo and trying to act dignified.”

“not my finest moment,” he replies, but his tone is light, and you can see the amusement in his eyes. “but it did teach me that even a dracula can have a silly side.”

you feel at ease with him, laughing as he shares more stories. each one shows you a little more of his real personality, the layers beneath his calm, mysterious exterior. he has a way of making you feel special, like you’re the only person in the room. with every shared laugh, the connection between you grows deeper, and the rest of the world fades away.

and in that moment, you realized how lucky you are to be spending halloween with him. it’s not just about the costumes or decorations; it’s the way he makes you feel—cherished, understood, and completely at home.

and you love him for that.

“do you like the decorations i made?” he asks, his crimson eyes searching yours.

you smile, realizing you were right.

he made them.

“they’re beautiful,” you reply, looking around. your heart flutters at the thought of sylus’s effort. “everything feels so magical here.”

“that was my intention,” he says, a hint of pride in his tone. “i wanted this evening to be enchanting, just like you.”

as the night progresses, the two of you find yourselves getting lost in conversation. you move closer together on the plush sofa, the warmth between you growing more intense. sylus’s big hand squeezes the soft flesh on your inner thigh, pulling you snugly against him.

you notice his gaze lingers on your lips, and it sends a thrill through you. your heart races, pounding like a drum in your chest. the air around you feels heavy with anticipation, as if the world outside has disappeared, leaving just the two of you in this moment.

sylus leans in closer, and you can feel the warmth of his body radiating toward you. his breath brushes against your skin, warm and inviting. the closeness makes your cheeks heat up, and you can hardly breathe. every inch between you feels charged with an unspoken desire, pulling you together like magnets.

you watch his eyes as they darken with longing. there’s a mix of seriousness and softness in his expression that makes your heart flutter even more. time seems to slow down, and all your worries melt away. in this moment, nothing else matters except the two of you and the unspoken words hanging in the air.

he inches closer still, and you can feel the heat rising between you. your breath catches as his lips are mere inches from yours. it feels as if the whole world has disappeared, and you’re both lost in a bubble of intimacy. you can sense his heart racing as well, matching your own rhythm.

“do you know what happens when a vampire and dracula meet on halloween?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.

“no, what?” you reply, unable to hide the excitement in your tone.

he smirks, a playful glint in his eyes. “they share a kiss under the moonlight.”

with that, he closes the distance, capturing your lips with his. the kiss starts soft but quickly deepens with passion. his hands find your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses you deeper. you can feel the heat rising, igniting every nerve in your body. you melt into his embrace, feeling the intensity of the moment. your hands tangle in his silver hair, holding him close as you kiss him back with equal fervor. the kiss is electric, full of longing and desire, and you lose yourself in him.

after a breathless moment, he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes with affection. “i have always wanted to share this moment with you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

“me too,” you whisper, feeling shy yet excited. you can see the hunger in his eyes, sending shivers down your spine.

“let’s not let the night end just yet,” he says, his tone becoming more commanding. he stands, extending his hand to you. “come, there is more to experience.”

you take his hand, feeling the warmth radiating from him as he leads you deeper into the mansion. he leads you through the dimly lit corridors until you reach a large door. he opens it to reveal a lavish library filled with towering shelves of books and soft, plush seating. the room smells of aged paper and wood, creating a sense of intimacy that draws you in.

“this is my favorite spot,” he says, gesturing to the plush cushions scattered around. “it’s where i come to think,” he explains, his voice softening as he gestures around the room. “it holds my secrets and desires.”

the tension between you thickens as you step inside. you can’t help but admire the way he looks in this dim light, the shadows playing off his sharp features. as you sit together on the cushions,he turns to you, his expression serious yet tender. sylus leans in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, “a place where we can escape from the world.”

you feel a rush of heat at his words. the tension in the room grows, and you can’t resist leaning in closer. your lips barely brush against his, igniting the fire that has been building all night. sylus responds with a soft growl, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you onto his lap.

he looks at you, his expression serious yet tender. “do you feel the darkness of the night, my vampire?” he asks, his tone lowering as he leans more closer now. “it invites us to embrace our true selves.”

your heart races at his words, and you nod, feeling the thrill of the moment. “i do. it’s intoxicating.”

“then let us indulge in it.”

before you can respond, he pulls you closer, your chest pressing against his. his lips crash onto yours with a passion that ignites the air around you. the kiss is fierce and commanding, leaving you breathless as you melt against him. his hands grip your waist tightly, and you feel the heat radiating from his body.

the kiss deepens, tasting of desire in every movement. sylus’s fingers slip into your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. you respond eagerly, your hands roaming over his strong shoulders, pulling him even closer. “you make it hard to control myself, sweetheart,” he breathes against your lips, his voice low and thick with need. “but tonight, i want to savor every moment.”

as he pulls away, his crimson eyes darken with longing. the tension crackles between you, thick and electric. “let me show you how a true dracula indulges in the night,” he whispers, his gaze smoldering, a seductive promise in his voice.

sylus leans in again, capturing your lips with a slow, passionate kiss. his hand trails down your side, fingers dancing over the fabric of your dress, sending shivers through you. he takes his time, exploring and teasing, igniting a fire within you that grows with every touch.

every. single. touch.

the atmosphere is thick with desire, and you can feel the heat rising between you. sylus’s lips move down your neck, his breath warm against your skin. you arch your back, craving more of his touch, more of his presence.

“you are exquisite,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and filled with longing. “i want to lose myself in you tonight.”

his words send a thrill through you, and you can’t help but respond with a soft moan. “please, sylus. don’t hold back.”

the intensity between you peaks as he captures your lips once more, and the kiss deepens, and you can feel the heat rising between you. sylus’s big hands roam your body, exploring every curve and inch of you. each touch sends electric shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within. his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw and neck, kissing and nibbling softly. you arch your back, craving more of him, wanting to melt into his embrace.

“you taste so sweet,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. you feel your cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and excitement. the way he looks at you, with those dark crimson eyes filled with passion, makes your heart race even faster.

“sylus,” you breathe, your voice barely a whisper. “i need you.”

his eyes darken at your words, a hungry glint flashing in them. with that, he kisses you again, this time with a deeper, more urgent passion. his hands grip your waist, pulling you against him as if he never wants to let go. you can feel the heat of his body radiating onto yours, and it makes your skin tingle with excitement.

the kiss grows more intense, and you lose yourself in the moment. every touch, every kiss, feels like a spark igniting a flame inside you. he presses you closer, and you can feel the hard lines and muscles of his body against yours. it sends waves of pleasure through you, and you can’t help but moan softly into his mouth.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. “i want to feel you, all of you.”

your body responds to his words, a rush of heat flooding your cheeks. you nod, unable to find your voice. all you can think about is the need building inside you, growing stronger with every passing moment.

sylus’s hands move from your waist to your thighs, sliding up and down slowly, teasingly. his fingers press into your soft skin, igniting every nerve ending. you can feel a warmth pooling deep inside you, a desire that makes you ache for him.

“please,” you whisper, the word slipping out in desperation.

he grins, a wicked smile that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “you don’t have to beg, my sweet,” he replies, his tone playful yet serious. “tonight is ours.”

with a swift movement, he lays you back onto the plush cushions, his huge body hovering over yours, making you feel small. the world outside fades away, and it’s just the two of you in this intimate moment. the tension between you thickens, almost tangible, as he leans down to kiss you again, his lips capturing yours in a passionate embrace.

his kisses grow more fervent, more demanding, and you can feel yourself responding in kind. your hands explore his body, feeling the strength beneath his clothing. the heat between you builds, a fire that consumes everything in its path.

“let go,” he whispers against your lips, his breath warm and inviting. “let me take care of you.”

his words send a thrill through you, and you surrender to the moment. every worry, every doubt, fades away as you give yourself to him completely. you lose track of time as his kisses grow deeper, his hands exploring, igniting every inch of your skin with pleasure.

his fingers then trace along your shoulders, reaching for the shoulder yoke of your dress. he moves slowly, almost teasing, as he slips one sleeve off, then the other, his touch light and careful. his eyes never leave yours, watching you closely. he keeps his gaze on you, his fingers moving slowly down, inch by inch, sliding the dress lower, and down to the ground. the fabric feels cool against your skin, but his touch is warm, steady, and sure.

“such a work of art,” sylus murmurs, his voice low and reverent. his touch gentles, becoming almost worshipful as he bares more of your skin to his gaze. his fingers trail along your collarbone, then down to your breasts.

sylus’s eyes darken with lust as he takes in the tantalizing sight of your cleavage. “oh, i missed this,” he growls softly. his fingers trace the edge of your bra, teasing the soft skin just above the lacy cups. he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “so much,” he whispers.

his eyes meet yours, filled with a silent command. his hands move to your back, searching for the clasp of your bra, slowly peels back the fabric, revealing more and more skin, inch by inch. once your bra is completely undone, he tosses it aside, letting it fall to the floor. his eyes feasting on your now bare breasts, a slow smile spreading across his face. “so perfect,” he murmurs, his hands coming up to cup the tender flesh. “like they were made specifically for me.”

exactly, just for him.

as his hand cups one, his thumb rubbing over the hard peak. so sensitive. he leans down, taking the other peak into his mouth and sucking gently. his tongue flicking out to caress the hardened bud. a soft gasp tears from your throat, your back arching as pleasure shot through you.

his touch is gentle, almost worshipful. his hands slide down to your waist, his fingers curling around to squeeze your bottom. he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. carrying you, sylus walks towards his study desk, never breaking the intimate contact. he lays you down gently on the cold surface, his warm body covering yours, your ample breasts jiggle with each movement. his lips trail from them up to your neck, his tiny fake fangs grazing your pulse point. “you’re mine,”

completely and utterly his.

he continues to worship your breasts, his mouth and hands moving between them, alternating between gentle kisses and firmer sucks, his fingers rolling and pinching your other nipple. “so delicate,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your skin. “so mine.”

“s-sy...” his name escapes your lips in a breathless moan, and you feel him smirk against your skin, clearly satisfied by your reaction.

he didn’t stop. his mouth is completely relentless, switching to the other breast and another once more, giving it the same equal attention, sucking and nipping at your sensitive skin until you are squirming beneath him, every nerve in your body alight with desire.

his hands slide down your sides, gripping your hips possessively. his touch becomes more demanding, his fingers digging into your flesh. he kisses down your stomach, his hands guiding your thighs farther apart. his breath is hot against your core as he murmurs, “and this...”

his hands grip your thighs tighter, holding them apart as he leans down and presses his mouth to your center before biting the edge of your now soaked lace panties and sliding it to the side, revealing your wet cunt. “...belongs to me.” his tongue delves into your wet folds, parting them to lap at your nectar.

without any further hesitation, he dips his head and buries his face between your thighs. his tongue laves at your entrance, gathering your juices before thrusting inside you, fucking your hole with his tongue. your hands fist on the edge of the desk as he continues, the slow, torturous rhythm of his tongue driving you closer and closer to the edge. every stroke, every flick of it sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, and it was all you could do to hold on, your body trembling beneath him.

sylus growls against your sex, the vibrations intensifying the pleasure. his tongue circles your clit before he suckles it between his lips. two long fingers plunge deep inside you, curling to stroke your inner walls. and in that moment you realize, he had come prepared. his nails on both of his middle and ring fingers are cut short, smooth and neat. he made sure to trim them carefully, knowing it’s important for what’s to come. the clean tips of his fingers shine softly in the light with each pull outs from your sweet hole, showing he thought ahead, fully caked with your pussy juices. he feels ready, knowing he can focus on the moment without any worries.

my, my, so thoughtful. yet so naughty.

sylus pumps them steadily, matching the rhythm of his tongue. he sets a steady pace, his fingers plunging deep and curling to hit that special spot inside you with each thrust and rub. his tongue dances over your clit, alternating between rapid flicks and slow, deliberate licks. he can taste your arousal, feel your walls starting to flutter around his fingers. your hands fisting in his hair as you try to keep yourself grounded. but it is impossible. every flick of his tongue, every suck, every moan and groan that vibrated through you only push you closer to the edge, your body trembling with the need to fall.

he hums against your sex, the vibrations almost too much to bear. his fingers curl more deeper, rubbing firm circles against your g-spot as he teases your clit with the tip of his tongue fast. the pressure builds, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to drive you wild.

sensing your impending orgasm, sylus doubles his efforts. he adds a third finger, scissoring them inside you to stretch your pussy even further. his mouth closes over your clit, and he sucks hard, his fangs grazing your sensitive flesh as he hums a deep, vibrations-rich note.

as your walls tighten around his fingers, he lifts his head, his mouth glistening with your essence. “look at me, sweetie,” he murmurs, his accent thick. you meet his gaze, feeling a rush of warmth wash over you. his fingers continue to move inside you, thrusting deeper with a steady fast rhythm. his palm presses against you, applying just the right amount of pressure where you need it most. each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. he watches you closely, taking in every gasp and shudder that escapes your lips. you can see the hunger in his eyes, the way he craves every reaction from you. it makes your heart race even faster.

“that’s it, just like that,” he says softly, encouraging you as his fingers curl at the perfect angle. you can feel him hitting that sweet spot, and it makes you moan even louder. the room feels like it’s spinning, and all you can focus on is him and the pleasure he’s giving you.

“you feel so good,” he adds, his voice low and sultry. the heat between you grows stronger, and you can't help but squirm beneath him, craving more. you feel a wave of bliss building inside you, ready to break free. you want to feel everything he has to give.

you lock eyes with him as he slowly continues to work you with his hand. his face is unreadable, but his eyes blaze with intensity. he brings his other hand up to your mouth, slowly sliding two fingers past your lips. “suck,” he commands softly, his voice low and sultry.

you obey, your tongue swirling around his fingers, tasting yourself on him. the sensation makes your cheeks flush as you feel the heat rise within you. “mmm, sylus,” you murmur around his fingers, the name spilling from your lips, filled with longing. he watches you closely, his gaze intense and filled with desire.

“good girl,” he praises, his voice thick with approval. the way he looks at you makes you feel both exposed and exhilarated. you continue to suck on his fingers, drawing them deeper into your mouth, trying to please him as much as he pleases you.

as you do this, he quickens the pace of his fingers inside you, moving with purpose. every thrust sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body, and you moan around his fingers, the sound muffled but filled with longing.

“that’s right,” he encourages. “let me hear you.”

the combination of your soft moans and the way he works you sends you spiraling deeper into ecstasy. you can already feel the tension building inside you, tightening with every movement. it’s intoxicating, the way he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

and how to push you closer to the edge.

he grins, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. “keep going, sweetheart,” he urges, his voice a low rumble. “i want to see you lose control.”

“i... i can’t hold on much longer,” you confess, feeling your body tense and quiver with anticipation. the world around you fades as all you can focus on is the pleasure he gives you, making you feel alive and wanted.

his eyes flash with hunger as he watches you unravel, your desperate moans and the way your body trembles igniting a primal urge within him. he curls his fingers inside you, stroking that perfect spot, determined to push you over the edge. he pumps his fingers into you once more, his palm pressing against you as his hand works between your legs. his other hand pulls away from your mouth, instead gently caressing your cheek. his touch is tender, a stark contrast to the way he’s working your body. with a final, firm stroke, he tips you over the precipice. you shatter, your back arching as waves of intense pleasure wash over you. he silences your cute cries with his lips, kissing you deeply as you convulse around his fingers.

his tongue tangles with yours, swallowing your cries as he draws out your release, his fingers continuing to move inside you, milking every last drop of pleasure from your body. he breaks the kiss, his breathing heavy as he gazes into your eyes, mesmerized by the vulnerability and raw passion he finds there. slowly, he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean while holding your gaze. he savors the taste of your essence, his tongue swirling around his fingers as he maintains intense eye contact. a low, approving growl rumbles in his chest at your exquisite flavor. “you taste divine, my dear.”

you barely manage to breathe, your bare chest heaving up and down as you try to catch your breath. his gaze then drops to your heaving chest, admiring the way your full breasts rise and fall. he reaches out, gently cupping one in his large hand, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak. “and these pillows of mine,” he murmurs, “they’re absolutely beautiful.”

he lifts your breast, his thumb continuing to tease the nipple as he leans in to capture it between his lips. he sucks gently, his tiny fangs grazing the sensitive flesh before he releases it with a soft pop. “so perfect for me to play with.”

he switches to your other breast, giving it the same attention as the first. his free hand reaches out to gently pinch and roll your other nipple between his fingers. “and these cute little nubs,” he murmurs against your breast, “they’re just begging to be played with as well.”

“s-sy!” you whimper, your cheeks flushing with warmth as you playfully swat at his chest, feeling a mix of embarrassment and submission.

with one swift, fluid motion, he removes your soaked panties, leaving you bare before him. his eyes darkens as he took in the sight of you, laid out on his desk, your skin flushed, chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. the hunger in his gaze was almost predatory, and you shivered beneath the weight of it.

a fresh wave of heat coursing through your body, even though you could still feel the remnants of your orgasm pulsing faintly between your legs. and no, it’s not just a want anymore.

it’s a need.

the need, the aching desire for him, was only growing stronger. he knew exactly how to make you come undone.

“sy…” you whisper, your voice a mix of exhaustion and need. you reach out, your fingers brushing over the sharp lines of his chest as you tried to pull him closer, your body already craving the press of his weight against you. “please… i want you inside me.”

his gaze flickers up to meet yours, his irises swirling with unbridled hunger and desire. his broad chest heaves with a deep inhalation, as if he was trying to draw your scent into his very soul. his fangs descend, his eyes flickering red as the scent of your arousal and the sound of your plea stoked the fire of his hunger.

“my sweet, desperate kitten.” he chuckles darkly, his fingertips tracing up your inner thigh before he gently slipped a finger inside you, testing your readiness. he hummed against your thigh, his breath hot and tantalizing against your damp flesh. his fingers trace up and down your folds, gently exploring as he watches your reactions.

your hips buck against his fingers, desperate for more friction. you muffle your moans with the back of your hand. “p-please, sylus... i-i need... i need more...”

his smirk deepened, a glint of satisfaction flashing in his crimson eyes. “such a good girl when you ask so sweetly,” he murmured, his fingers trailing up your waist, brushing your skin with a tenderness that contradicted the raw hunger burning between the two of you.

he slowly removes his fingers from your heat, leaving you feeling empty and aching. he rises to his knees, his eyes locked onto yours. “think it’s time to give you exactly what you've been craving,” he said, his voice low and commanding as he reaches for the hem of his shirt.

sylus slowly sheds his clothing, his eyes never leaving yours, and each inch of his body revealed only makes the fire inside you burn hotter. the sculpted muscles of his chest, the firm ridges of his abs, the silver trail of hair that leads lower—all of it is designed to drive you wild. his presence is overwhelming, his dominance palpable, and yet there is something undeniably intimate in the way he undresses before you, his gaze softening just enough to let you see the depth of his desire.

his hands trail over his own body, his touch almost reverent as he reaches for the belt on his pants before unbuckling it then slowly unzips, pushing them down his hips. his manhood juts out—hard, thick and heavy—the tip already glistening. he wraps a hand around himself, giving himself a slow, purposeful stroke.

it’s been a while since you and sylus shared an intimate moment together, so the longing between you both has only grown. with the time apart, every small touch, look, and kiss now feels even stronger, like there’s a build-up you can’t ignore. the excitement is thicker, and there’s this unspoken eagerness to reconnect. you can feel the tension between you, each moment making the anticipation even harder to resist as both of you are pulled back together.

you remember the last time you were together, the warmth of his body pressed so close to yours, every touch lingering like it was meant to last forever. in that moment, his hands had explored every inch of you, memorizing every curve and line as if he couldn’t bear to forget. his voice, soft and deep, had whispered your name like it was something precious, each kiss leaving you feeling cherished and entirely his.

the memory sends a wave of warmth through you, making the present even more intense as you realize how much you missed this closeness. now, with him here again, that same longing stirs inside you, stronger and more eager than before.

when sylus is finally bare, he steps closer, his hands gripping your thighs and parting them even wider. the head of his erection brushes against your core, and you gasp, your fingers tightening on the edge of the desk. “look at me,” he orders softly, his hand sliding beneath your chin, tilting your face up so you are forced to meet his red eyes.

the intensity of his gaze sends shivers down your spine. you can see the hunger burning within him, a dark desire that makes your heart race. “i want you to remember this moment,” he continues, his voice low and smooth. “i want you to feel every inch of me inside you.”

you can barely find your voice as you whisper, “i want that too.” the words come out in a breathy rush, your excitement mixing with nervousness.

he brushes a thumb over your cheek, a teasing smile on his lips. “good. because waiting has made me even hungrier for you.” he leans closer, and you can feel his warm breath against your skin, making you tremble. “tell me what you need.”

you swallow hard, trying to gather your thoughts. “i need you… now,” you finally say, your voice firmer than before. the words come out almost like a plea, and you can see the satisfaction in his eyes.

“that’s my girl,” he replies, his voice thick with desire. he presses the tip of his erection against your entrance, teasing you just enough to make your body ache with need. “are you ready?” he asks, his voice low.

“yes, please,” you respond, feeling the heat in your cheeks. you can’t help but feel a little shy, but his presence makes you feel safe. he gives you a wicked smile, the corners of his mouth curling up in a way that sends a thrill through you.

“good.”

sylus shifts, his hips settling between your thighs, and you could feel the hardness of him pressing against your entrance, slick with your need. the anticipation was almost unbearable, your body trembling beneath him as you wait for him to finally take you.

and then he did.

with one slow, deliberate thrust, sylus sinks into you, the stretch of him filling you completely, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. your mouth fall open in a soundless gasp, your nails digging into his back as he fills you inch by agonizing inch. he is big—almost too much—but the delicious pressure was exactly what you needed, the perfect combination of pain and pleasure that left you breathless.

“fuck…” sylus groans, his voice rough and thick as he buries himself more to the hilt, his hips pressed flush against yours. he pauses there, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he gave you a moment to adjust, his breath hot and ragged against your lips.

“how does that feel?” he asks, his breath hot against your ear. the sensation is electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. you whimper softly, your back arching instinctively as he fills you, stretching you perfectly.

oh, horrendously big it hurts.

very enjoyable, however.

“i-i can’t,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “it... h-hurts.”

his body tensed as he slowly pushed forward, his thick length filling you inch by delicious inch. “relax, my love,” he promises, his thumb caressing your cheek as he watches your face for any sign of discomfort. “you can take me, you were made for me,”

he begins to move, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he thrusts deep inside your welcoming heat. each powerful stroke stretches you deliciously, filling you completely. his hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he claimed you thoroughly. “you can handle it,”

your heart pound at his words, your body responding with a fresh flood of arousal as you nod submissively, too breathless to speak.

with each pass of his hips, he hit that sweet spot inside you, making you cry out in pleasure, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. the feeling of him inside you, stretching you, filling you so completely—it is intoxicating. you could feel every pulse of him, every twitch, and it make you desperate for more. he leans down to capture your luscious mouth with his own, kissing you deeply as he continues to move within you. his pace quickens, his breathing growing harsher with each passing moment. “you feel so good,” he hisses against your lips, his long fingers tangling in your hair.

it was almost too much—yet not enough. you want more. you need more. “faster, baby…” you gasp, your hips bucking up against his, desperate for him to give you what you crave.

his face contorts with passion, a guttural growl echoing from his chest as he speeds up his rhythm, his hips slapping against yours with each powerful thrust. the sound of flesh meeting flesh fills the room, accompanied by your moans and his ragged breath. “like that, love?”

you nod eagerly, your fingers digging into his back, your nails scoring his skin. the pleasure is almost too much to bear, the sensation of him moving inside you so intense that your vision begins to swim. he leans down and sinks his teeth gently into your shoulder, making you. the gentle pain pushing you right over the edge.

“more?” he rasps, his fingers sliding down your body to find that sweet swollen nub between your legs. as he pounds deep inside you, he begins to circle it with his fingertips, coaxing you closer to release. his crimson eyes burn into yours.

you bury your face in the crook of his neck, your breath hot against his skin. “s-sylus... i’m so close.”

with that, his touch becomes more insistent, his fingers working you into a frenzy as he continues to thrust hard and fast. he can feel you tensing around him, hear your breath hitching in your throat. “look at me,” he commands softly, his voice laced with dark promise. “i want to watch every expression on your beautiful face as you reach your peak.”

with great effort, you lift your head and lock eyes with him. his face is a mask of concentration, his red irises are dilated, his pupils blown wide with passion. his gaze bores into yours, intense and demanding. one hand grips your hip bruisingly tight as he slams into you, while the other continues its torturous circles.

“sy—!” you are close. so close.

as the pleasure becomes too much, you finally reach the brink, his name spills from your lips like a prayer, your back arching, your nails digging into his flesh, a tidal wave of sensation that leaves you trembling beneath him.

his own control shatters at the sight of you coming undone beneath him. his expression tightens, jaw clenched and little fangs bared as he continues to drive into you, his hips moving like a piston. the hand on your hip slides down to grip your jiggly thigh, hiking it higher around his waist as he growls, “that’s it, love. milk me dry.”

he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath washing over your skin as his movements become jerky, his tempo faltering.

then, without warning, sylus’s strong hands are on you in an instant, flipping you onto your stomach with an effortless motion. before you could even process what is happening, he is now behind you, pulling your hips up so that you were on all fours, your bare chest pressing into the cold surface of his desk and your ass raised high for him as you stand on his shoes on your tiptoes. his deep voice drips with dominance as he growls, “stay there, hands planted flat on my desk, back arched... just like that.” his hands roam your curves possessively, squeezing your backside before spreading your cheeks apart to reveal you to his heated gaze.

“sy…” you moan, your body responding instantly to the new position. you could already feel yourself throbbing with need again, the ache between your thighs demanding more of him.

he admires the view for a moment, taking in the sight of your pale, vulnerable ass presented to him. “don’t move.” he rasps, his voice hoarse from exertion. his hands roam freely over your curves, tracing the curve of your backside before giving your ass a light slap. his long fingers trail down your spine, tracing each vertebrae. “you look so beautiful like this.”

you moan, biting your lip in response.

he leans down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses along your spine, his touch gentle yet firm. his fingers continue to caress and pet you, slowly parting your sweet cheeks again. his breath hitches as he takes in the sight of you, so exposed, so vulnerable. his touch becomes more intimate, his fingers parting your flesh once more to toy with the sensitive pucker hidden between your cheeks. you gasp at the sudden, new sensation, your knuckles turning white as you grip the edge of his desk. “sylus...”

he chuckles darkly at your needy whimper, the sound vibrating against your skin. “shhh, just feel...” he hums against your spine, the vibration sending shivers through your body. his fingers continue to tease your ass, occasionally pressing a gentle kiss to the sensitive flesh. “let me worship you like this for a moment,” he murmurs, his voice a low, rumbling purr. his fingers continue their teasing exploration, circling your tight hole with maddening slowness before pressing inside ever so slightly, breaching you with a low groan.

he slowly works his thumb deeper, his other hand coming up to splay across your lower back, holding you in place as he claims your body inch by tantalizing inch. you feel so tight, so perfect around him. “mm, you take my finger so well, m’love.”

with his thumb still inside your butthole, sylus uses his other hand to guide his big cock to your entrance, the thick head sliding through your slick folds with ease. your breath hitched in anticipation, your body already quivering as you wait for him to fill you again.

he teases the swollen head of his cock along your slit, coating himself in your arousal. the tip catches on your entrance with each pass, promising penetration. “such a pretty pussy, baby,” he growls, giving your ass a sharp smack, causing you to squeal.

“syyy!” you huff, your voice shaky and breathless as the pleasure begins to build inside you.

he slowly starts to push into you, his thick head stretching you wide, his thumb moving in tandem to stretch you even further. “i’m going to fill you completely, satisfying every inch of this needy little space.”

oh god.

the sensation of being filled in both holes is overwhelming, even deeper than before, is overwhelming. you let out a desperate, mewling cry, your fingers clawing at the desk beneath you as your body adjusts to the new angle, the stretch even stronger like this. his one hand on your hips hold you firmly, keeping you in place as he moves deeper, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your whole body.

the new angle allows him to go deeper, the head of his cock brushing against a spot inside you that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. every time he pulls out and thrusts back in, it feel like he is reaching parts of you that had never been touched before, and the pleasure is almost too much to bear.

his pace quickens, his hips snapping forward as he buries himself to the hilt within you. the dual sensation of him filling both holes drives you to the brink of madness. you can’t help but push back against him, silently begging for more. your moans fill the room, making him want you even more. sylus’s thrusts grow harder and faster, each one stronger than the last. his hips press against yours with a force that leaves you breathless. the sound of your bodies, the warmth between your thighs, and the heavy breaths you both take—it all comes together in a rush of pure need and desire.

“look at you, taking me so well,” sylus growls, his voice filled with approval as he watches your body move under him. his hands then glide up your sides, moving over your waist and back, before tangling in your hair and gently pulling your head back. this makes your back arch even more. “such a good little slut for me.”

his words send a thrill of heat straight to your core, and you can’t hold back the desperate moan that escapes your lips. your body is on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as sylus continues to pound into you from behind, his cock filling you over and over again with an intensity that makes your knees weak. with each powerful thrust, the pleasure builds higher and higher, coiling tightly in your core like a spring ready to snap. sylus’s hand tightens in your hair, his other arm wrapping around your waist to hold you even closer as he grinds into you with hard, deliberate strokes. his free hand reaches down to grab one of your bouncing breasts, squeezing it roughly as he continues to fuck you mercilessly from behind. he pinches your nipple between his fingers, rolling it between his thumb and index finger as he growls in your ear, causing you to moan in pleasure. “fuck, just look at those tits bouncing around, baby...”

he smirks at your desperate moan, loving how he can make your body react so intensely to his touch. how cute. his hips snap forward again and again, his thick cock stretching you open and hitting that perfect spot deep inside that makes you see stars.

his gaze fixes on your bouncing tits, his eyes burning with a feral hunger. he suddenly pulls out of you and carries you off the desk, finally pinning you against the nearest wall. he spins you around and grabs your legs and throws them over his arms, his cock slamming back into you with brutal force.

holy fuck.

“oh god…” you gasp, your voice shaky and breathless as the pleasure builds inside you once more. you can feel another orgasm approaching, your body teetering on the edge of bliss, and you know it won’t take much to push you over.

his strong arms hold onto your thighs as he lifts you higher, his hips bucking against yours as he drives into you with raw, animalistic need. his face is buried between your breasts, and he growls like a beast, the vibration against your skin sending shivers down your spine.

his fangs graze over your chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake before he latches onto your breast, sucking hungrily. mmh, so good. his body rocks into yours, each thrust deliberate and powerful, his body grinding against yours as he buries himself deep inside you.

“come for me, baby,” he growls, his voice low and demanding, muffling against your skin. “i want to feel you come around my cock again.”

his mouth stays latched onto your breast, sucking and nibbling as he continues to fuck you against the wall. the combination of his mouth on your tits, his cock pounding into you, and his arms holding your legs up is too much for your body to handle.

as you reach your climax, your inner walls clench tightly around his throbbing cock. he lets out a satisfied groan, his teeth biting gently into your breast as he sucks in your sweet skin. his hips continue to piston into you, fucking you through your orgasm and prolonging the intense pleasure. his own release barrels through him moments later, his face contorting in ecstasy as he buries his face in your cleavage and roars out his pleasure. his arms tighten around you, his whole body shuddering against yours as he spills himself inside you, their combined fluids dripping down his balls. for a moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy, labored breathing of both of you, your bodies still shaking after your intense release. sylus holds you close, pulling you against his strong chest, his arms wrapping around you possessively as you both stay in the dark, your bodies still tangled together.

slowly, he lets your legs down, his arms still wrapping around you to support your boneless body. he nuzzles into your neck, planting soft kisses along your collarbone. “mine,” he murmurs possessively, his voice laced with satisfaction. carrying you to his desk, he gently sits you down and pulling you into his embrace. his hands roam over your body, caressing your curves with gentle affection. “no one else will ever touch you like this. you are my soulmate, my beloved.”

you melt into his embrace, your fingers tangling in his silky silver hair as you pull his face to yours for a gentle, loving kiss. “and i am yours, forever and always,” you whisper against his soft lips, your heart brimming with love and devotion for the ‘dracula’ who stole your heart since the day you met him.

with a soft smile, sylus gently carries you to the bathroom, cradling you in his arms like a precious princess before removing the fake vampire fangs that both of you wore—along with your high heels.

“let’s get you cleaned up, my love.” he sets you down on the edge of the massive shower, turning on the rain shower head and adjusting the temperature. the warm water begins to cascade down, creating a soothing mist around you. sylus steps in with you, pulling you close so you feel his body heat. he runs his fingers through your hair, the gentle touch calming you as the water washes over both of you.

“are you feeling sore, my love?” he asks softly, his voice filled with concern.

“a-a little,” you admit, feeling shy, wincing a little as you shift. it’s true; the experience was intense, leaving you with a pleasant ache. “but it was worth it.”

he chuckles, clearly finding your response cute. “you are such a brave kitten,” he says, brushing his fingers along your cheek. “i admire your strength.”

the water glistens on your skin as he moves down to your waist, his fingers brushing lightly over your body. every touch sends small shivers through you, and although you feel sore, his movements are gentle and soothing.

after a few moments, he steps back and takes a look at you, his expression softening. “you are so beautiful,” he says, his voice filled with awe. you smile shyly, feeling the warmth of his words wrap around you like a soft blanket.

as the shower continues to rain down, sylus pulls you close again, wrapping his arms around you tightly. you rest your head against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat. it feels safe and comforting.

sigh.

“i love moments like this,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “just you and me, away from the world.”

“me too,” you whisper back, feeling a sense of peace wash over you despite the lingering soreness.

he tilts your chin up gently so you meet his eyes. “i want to take care of you always,” he promises, his gaze serious but warm. “you are my everything.”

you can’t help but smile at his words, feeling a warmth in your chest. “and you are mine,” you reply softly.

as the water continues to flow, he leans in and kisses your forehead gently, a sweet gesture that makes your heart flutter.

after a while, you both step out of the shower, wrapping yourselves in soft towels. as you step into sylus’s massive closet, the walls are lined with perfectly organized clothes, shoes, and accessories. the light from the elegant chandelier casts a warm glow, making everything feel cozy despite the opulence surrounding you.

“feel free to pick anything you like,” he says, his tone stoic but with a hint of playfulness as he watches you browse through the neatly arranged clothing. “though i doubt anything will fit you as well as my shirt.”

you chuckle, appreciating his teasing nature. “well, i’ll take that as a challenge,” you reply, pulling out a few pieces, including a pair of his boxers. you can’t help but smile at how big they are compared to your small figure.

sylus raises an eyebrow, a small smirk forming on his lips. “are you sure you can handle all that fabric? you might get lost in it,” he teases, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning against the closet door in a way that exudes both confidence and charm.

“i think i’ll manage,” you say playfully, deciding to slip into the oversized shirt first. as you pull it over your head, you feel the soft fabric drape over you, engulfing your body. it’s comically large, and you can’t help but laugh as it falls past your hips, almost like a dress.

“you look like you raided my wardrobe,” he quips, his voice smooth yet playful as he takes in the sight of you in his shirt. “a very cute burglar, i must say.”

“maybe i’m just here to steal your heart,” you say with a wink, feeling confident in your playful banter.

“clever, but i think you’ve already succeeded in that regard,” he replies, his gaze softening slightly, though he maintains a stoic facade. “now, let’s see what else you can find.”

you rummage through the boxers, holding up a pair that’s comically large. “do you think these will work?” you ask, smirking at him.

“they’ll definitely work. in fact, i might be a little jealous,” he says, feigning seriousness. “but i suppose i can let it slide this time.”

after a few more moments of playful teasing, you finally change into the boxers, feeling even more comfortable. you step back to face him, striking a playful pose. “how do i look now?”

“like you belong in my closet,” he responds, his voice steady yet playful, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “though i must say, you should have the decency to keep your eyes on me instead of my clothes.”

“and why is that?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“because,” he steps closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone, “i’m the one who wants to see your pretty little face when you wear my clothes.”

you blush at his words, and despite the teasing, there’s something undeniably sincere in his gaze.

“now, how about we get back to that cozy spot in the living room?” he suggests, motioning toward the door.

with a smile, you nod, feeling a warm sense of connection as you both leave the lavish closet behind. sylus leads you to the living room, where he has prepared a little cozy setup with blankets and pillows. “i thought we could have a little halloween movie night,” he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

you beam at him, feeling grateful for the thoughtful surprise. “that sounds perfect,” you reply, snuggling into the pile of blankets he made for you. sylus settles in beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close.

he picks out a classic horror movie, and as the opening credits roll, you can’t help but glance up at him. “are you scared?” you tease, noticing how he looks slightly more serious than usual.

“me? scared? never,” he replies with mock bravado, a smirk playing on his lips. “but i will protect you if it gets too intense.”

you laugh, feeling warm and safe next to him. the movie plays on, but every so often, you steal glances at sylus, admiring how comfortable and warm he feels against you. the tension from earlier has melted away, leaving only warmth and affection between the two of you. as the plot thickens and the jump scares come, you find yourself leaning closer to sylus, burying your face in his shoulder during the most suspenseful scenes. he chuckles softly, holding you tighter, his fingers brushing through your hair. “it’s just a movie,” he reminds you gently, but you can hear the playful note in his voice.

after a few movies, you both take a break, sitting in comfortable silence as you munch on halloween-themed snacks he prepared—pumpkin cookies and candy corn. “this is the best halloween ever,” you say, a content smile on your face.

“i agree,” he replies, his gaze softening as he looks at you. “being with you makes everything better.”

as the night goes on, the atmosphere feels intimate and special. you feel a sense of closeness that only deepens with every laugh and shared moment. when the clock strikes midnight, sylus leans closer, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. it feels soft and gentle, filled with the warmth of the connection you both share.

“happy halloween, my love,” he whispers against your lips, a soft smile gracing his features.

“happy halloween, sylus. thank you for tonight,” you reply, your heart fluttering at the sweetness of the moment.

“i guess we really made this halloween unforgettable,” he adds, a teasing smirk on his lips.

you laugh lightly, nodding in agreement. “definitely unforgettable.”

with a soft laugh, he pulls you back into the warmth of his embrace. “here’s to many more halloweens together,” he says, his voice filled with promise as you both sink into the comfort of each other, knowing this night will be a cherished memory for years to come.

the end.

hi, thanks for reading all the way to the end! your support means so much to me. i hope you enjoyed this halloween oneshot! feel free to leave your thoughts or feedback; i’d love to hear from you! <3

[soobnny]

dating him | lee felix

❝ if you win this round, i’ll give you a kiss ❞

chan | lee know | changbin | hyunjin | han | FELIX | seungmin | jeongin

lee felix

the pda king that u are

sorry to get straight to the point but

he’s always touching u in some way 😭

obsessed i’m telling u

whether that’s a hand on ur back pocket, maybe ur intertwined hands in his hoodie pocket, his legs over urs on the couch

he just wants to be touching u all the time bc he is just a lovestruck boy at the end of the day

and there is no feeling more blissful than having you so close to him

i 100% stand by the idea that he would be so insufferable if circumstances were to separate u for a moment

would send u 91837473 texts

calls u too if u aren’t busy

most preferably facetime so he can see u

the boys end up gifting him a pillow with ur face on it bc he just would not shut up about missing u

he is also the saw this n thought of u texts

yes that’s why u receive a million texts

bc a million things remind him of u

he sees a spoon?

hey! u use a spoon too!

the weather is nice?

he has to tell you that! he knows u love when the weather is nice!

speaking of texts, good morning and good evening texts at the most abnormal hours

(sent at 3:24pm) good morning princess ❤️

(sent at 5:11pm) goodnight my love

moving on

u two actually dated bc of hyunjin

look i know felix is extremely good looking and handsome and could pull 92848 girls

but he is honestly just such a shy boy

“hi, felix lost his number. can u give him yours instead?”

“did u just hit on me for him?”

😭😭😭😭😭

TEARSSSSS like hyunjin is shameless

but whatever, it worked

sometimes felix sends him a gift too on ur anniversary bc it’s all thanks to him

one of his favorite memories of u two dating is when u taught him how to braid his hair

who knew it could be so convenient

and look THAT good too

u catch his hair braided while gaming when u surprise visit once

it isn’t as neat as it would’ve been if u were the one who did it

but u could recognize that technique anywhere

it’s the one u’d taught him noooooo 😭

love language: physical touch and baking sessions and teaching u to game

physical touch done

next up .. baking sessions

u could either make the best batch of brownies or almost burn the kitchen down bc u two were too busy making out

u’d also get into a mini food fight

would 100% put red icing on ur lips and blue on his and say u two should make purple

he thinks he’s so cool and smooth

who’s gonna tell him

he’s a LEWSERRRRR but your loser

felix just honestly is happy he gets to combine two of his favorites: baking and u

and then there’s him teaching u to game

he would be so patient with u

and if u were playing, he’d be by ur side the whole time and coaching u

he’d take videos and photos for sure

if he’s the one playing, best believe you’re on his lap if the game isn’t all that competitive

“boooooo! hyung!” — jeongin 2024

he says that bc while felix was communicating, he heard u

felix also strikes me as the type to build u a world in minecraft

he’d make you a cute little house with cherry blossoms around and a garden and a pet

and he calls you just to RAMBLE excitedly about it

man he’s just too cute what the hell 😭😭😭😭

his dates are actually kind of expensive

and his gifts too

he’d be like “no no no i swear it isn’t expensive”

and it’s a louis vitton necklace or smthn

u have so many cute dresses

he especially loves picnics with wine and fresh fruits and carefully made sandwiches in a basket

and FRUIT PICKING

he would love that so much

i think felix would also love if u helped him dye his hair

bc again .. he loves having u close

so i said changbin fails at legos right

felix is too good

he LOVES legos

he even buys u those flower ones

he would do anything to spend time w u

including legos

he particularly loves that it takes kind of a long time so u two would be together the whole time

anyways felix is honestly just such a sweetheart

very very very green flag behavior

he respects ur needs

listens to u without judgement

u have such a healthy relationship with his family

like his mom calls you

“hi! felix isn’t home rn”

“oh no no, i called to say hi to you”

oh they love you

gagged felix

u have dates with his sisters

and it confuses him too like

u would come over their house and he’d tell his family like oh! my gf is allergic to this!

his mom replies “i know”

LIKE WDYM YOU KNOW

felix couldn’t be any more happy anyway

it’s great

congratulations ❤️

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[k4vehrtz]

⸻ YOU'RE A CRISIS OF MY FAITH

. ✦ . starring — dom!top! t. fushiguro / m! reader

warnings — porn with some plot, sacrilege, a copious amount of religious themes, priest! reader, virgin reader ergo loss of virginity, allusion to homophobia / internalised homophobia, unprotected sex, blowjob (r receiving), deepthroating, fingering, riding, creampie, toji lowkey has a corruption kink, use of the nickname 'angel', toji refers to the reader as father once but that is entirely in a religious sense . ✦ . wc — 2.1k . ✦ . notes — we'll all pretend that didn't just happen!! anyway!! i'm so so normal about toji...and !! i don't know what exactly falls under dark content but seeing as this contains sacrilege you've been warned nevertheless. not proof read bc t**blr stressed me out

“what does —” he stops himself mid-sentence to motion upwards, “the big man upstairs think about homosexuality?”

you swallow hard, your adam’s apple bobbing. you hadn’t expected the question, naturally. especially from the likes of toji fushiguro of all people. but you answer anyway. “well,” you murmur, averting your gaze so that you’d stare out the window as the first signs of winter begin to settle in for its extended stay instead of being forced to meet toji’s pointed gaze. “we all are subject to desires that may or may not reflect god’s light, but these desires aren’t sinful unless you act or encourage others to act on them.”

he nods almost absentmindedly in response before following up with: “…even you, i imagine, as a man of god, could fall victim to such desires?”

and you pause for a beat, your jaw tightening as an image escapes the dark recesses of your mind; the neat box you’ve forced what you deemed unpleasant thoughts into.

the man in your mind didn’t look quite like anyone you knew at first. he was just a man without a name or a face — similarly to the world before god’s divine intervention, he too was without form. but then, by chance, you met toji fushiguro and his teenage son. then the man who’d haunt your thoughts began to change.

he was older, weathered by life experiences and parenting, and taller, maybe 6’2, with messy black hair that fell over his brows. his hair reminded you of the cloudless, starless night sky. then there was that scar on the corner of his right lip. you’d imagined yourself on more than one occasion leaning toward him, pressing your lips against it before he’d open his mouth and let you explore the wet cavern.

though you shake your head as if that would dismiss your thoughts, fingers curling defensively around the window’s ledge. “everyone encounters temptation in their day-to-day, but, like god’s son, we must resist.” you counter eventually. “you’re not one for idle chatter.”

“i’m not,” he agrees, his voice smooth, something akin to the feeling of silk against your skin. it gives you goosebumps and makes the hairs stand up. he puts his hands up in mock surrender, his gaze intent. you can feel him burning holes into the back of your head. “you know, i think i’m long overdue for a confession.”

“as you wish.”

“our heavenly father has declared the following in the book of james, chapter five, verse sixteen: ‘therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective’. now, in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit, amen.”

silence — and then toji sucks in a breath, his voice thick with an emotion you can’t quite grasp but has you shifting in your seat on the other side of the confessional booth anyway. you’re, on some level, disgusted by your behaviour. it’s unprofessional at best, or perhaps the beginning of your unravelling at worst. you fear it’s the latter.

“bless me, father, for i have sinned,” the words slide off his tongue with ease, “it has been two months since my last confession.” and your eyes flutter closed, or maybe you forced them closed because you feel no better than a pervert by the way you ache at every sound that comes out of his mouth.

either way, you don’t notice the way the door creaks as toji lets himself out of his side of the confessional booth and opens the door to yours until he’s kneeling in front of you, the pads of his fingers digging into your sides. the skin of his fingers is rough, worn out from the different tasks he takes on to keep himself and megumi afloat, you think. he’s become something of a handyman around town.

“to be honest, father,” he says, now directly addressing you. “i came here fer’ your guidance…you see, i’ve been havin’ thoughts lately that i don’t think align with what god wants.” and you find yourself at a loss, your eyes still closed, though your adam’s apple bobs again as you swallow your suppressed thoughts. “my guidance?” you repeat quietly, “confess your…thoughts…then, and seek forgiveness. it’s not a sin unless you act on those thoughts.”

he lets out a pleased hum at that, leaning forward so that his face is practically buried in your clothed crotch. “so,” he counters, “if my understanding is correct, would it be a sin if i told you to spread your legs f’me?”

you don’t trust yourself to speak right now — not when your thoughts are all muddled. so, you simply nod and toji clicks his tongue. “but sin or not, you’re going to anyway because you and i both know how we feel about each other, right? c’mon, use your big boy words and tell me.”

the smart thing—no, the right thing to do here would be to say no. adamantly deny the lingering touches and glances that the two of you had come to share. affection between two men could only go so far. but then again, you’ve gone so much farther in the safety of your bedroom long after the sun has set. how much longer could you shamelessly show your face to the other members of the church and listen to them confess their deepest secrets to you? you’re parading as a righteous man when you’re anything but.

if it turns out to be as bad of a sin as they say, god will strike you down.

turns out it’s not as bad of a sin as they say — or maybe it is and you’ve yet to receive divine punishment.

“god works in mysterious ways,” you say under your breath but toji hears it anyway. how could he not when you’re in such proximity to each other? you hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it doesn’t matter. and toji (ever the charmer) takes it upon himself to respond, “maybe he brought us together for a reason…or maybe i’m one of lucifer’s lackeys sent to seduce you.”

you make the conscious decision to ignore that which seems to entertain toji even more. he’s ridiculous in ways you can’t fathom. like…the way he’s got your legs spread, back pressed firmly against the wood of the confessional, your thighs trembling as he clicks his tongue, “spread yer’ legs a little wider f’me angel, s’not enough f’me to suck that pretty cock.”

he… he knows what he’s doing. whereas you were clumsy and inexperienced. but, to be fair, you had taken a vow of celibacy when you were twelve.

now, though, you’re experiencing true pleasure for the first time — and with a man, no less. you tilt your head back in what little space the confessional affords you as toji gives your balls tentative touches, maybe light squeezes, as he aligns the head of your leaking cock with his mouth. you’re embarrassed, warmth flooding your cheeks, but you can’t look away. not when this is all you’ve ever wanted.

there’s pre-cum on his lips; your pre-cum. it’s there, as clear as day, and he’s entirely unbothered. all of his attention is on your cock. your cock that’s throbbing as he sucks on it. pre-cum and saliva mixing. it’s all so new to you.

as for him…well isn’t this cute? you’re trying your hardest to stifle those needy moans of yours, he can tell. but no matter how much you bite down on your lower lip or how you press your hands against your mouth those pretty sounds you make always find a way of escaping. part of him, somewhere deep down, feels guilty for corrupting you like this. but perhaps he doesn’t feel guilty enough.

he continues to work on your cock, sucking on it whilst simultaneously fondling with your balls. you’re quivering, rutting your hips forward now and then. occasionally you go too far and it scares you at first — you didn’t mean to push your cock all the way to the back of his throat! ever the unbothered, though, he welcomes it until you’re spurting your load down his throat. and he swallows, utterly content.

then he coos at you, bringing a thumb up to your face, and tracing the outline of your jaw. “don’t worry about me, angel, you’re not going to hurt me. what you’re going to do f’me is let me reposition us so i can see your pretty boy hole, m’kay? my boy can do that f’me, right?”

my boy. the idea of being his. after so long…it only feels right. so, you allow him to readjust your position so that you’re straddling his lap and somewhere in the process you both disregard your clothes.

“you’ve been thinking about my cock? that’s why yer’ hole is winking f’me? all ready to take my cock like a big boy?” he asks and you nod your head eagerly. every word that comes out of his mouth is dirty but your reactions are the icing on the cake. you’re not the quiet, unassuming priest he met by chance all those months back. and to think that he’s the reason why.

well, he doesn’t linger on the thought. you’re impatient, squirming on his thighs in search of friction. but he’d be lying if he said it didn’t get him going and he may be many things but he would not force himself into you without properly preparing you to take him.

so as much as you whine about it, he ultimately takes his time with you. the nearest lubricant happened to be some sort of oil, but he made sure that it was safe to use before coating his fingers in a generous amount. then he oh so carefully drags his finger across your hole. it makes you shudder, but after a few minutes of this, you find yourself unprepared for the stretch of fitting a singular digit in. it hurts and the moment you so much as whimper toji’s pressing his lips against yours. the same lips that were around your cock only moments ago. his lips are gentle, soothing, even.

and he keeps it like that — his lips against yours as he slowly introduces more fingers into your ass. it takes a while but your pained whimpers soon morph into more desperate, filthy little noises as he drags his fingers in and out of your hole before curling them, tips grazing your prostate.

you want it, you decide. his cock, that is. you want his cock in your ass beyond a reasonable doubt. it’s all you need. bouncing on his fingers feels good but you just know that his cock would feel so much better.

“this is a sin, we’re both sinning,” you announce, your words strong but your delivery coming in between laboured gasps as his fingers continue to graze your prostate. “so i expect you to fuck me like you mean it.”

and he doesn’t need to be told twice. with a scoff — one that sounds more amused than annoyed — he pulls his fingers out of you. shaking his head as you whimper at the loss. but it’s soon replaced by something bigger and much thicker. it’s his cock, covered in the same oil, and you almost can’t believe it when he’s aligning it with your entrance, pushing past the tight ring of muscle.

you have to take a few breaks before you fully sink on him with a low groan. he makes you feel so full and he hasn’t even moved yet. and when you take it upon yourself to ride him you revert to the softheaded boy he makes you out to be.

your movements are clumsy — mediocre, you’re sure of it. but toji doesn’t intervene. he simply leans back, big, warm hands on your hips, while you figure out your rhythm. and after a few failed attempts you find one that works for both of you. it feels good, it feels great even. his hard cock filling you to the brim while you all but mindlessly bounce on his cock, your walls clenching around his throbbing length.

you’re going to cum soon, you’re sure of it. and when you do eventually watch through teary eyes as your cock spurts ropes of cum onto his stomach you’re not surprised whatsoever. toji, however, takes a lot longer to cum. you’ve probably cum at least two more times by the time toji takes control, his grip on your hips tightening as he angles you just the right way to hit your prostate with each thrust of his hips upwards. your toes curl, eyes half-lidded, and you just barely acknowledge the warmth of his semen in your ass.

all you can think of, and just barely manage to stutter out is: “you’ve fucked me,” and he stares up at you with a smug smile, chest heaving as he copes with his orgasm that has been a long time coming, “yeah, i’ve fucked yer’ pretty boy hole.”

[astraystayyh]

minho x gn!reader. hurt/comfort. reader used to feel lonely but not anymore with minho. for u my @rachalixie <333

it is a regular sunday afternoon, filled with all the chores you procrastinated for the end of the week. you're halfway through a batch of fresh laundry, when your eyes find Minho- he's fiddling with a pair of your pink socks, completely engrossed in a trashy sitcom playing on your TV. a bowl of fruit sits between you two, one he meticulously peeled because he knows you don't like the fruits' skin.

your hands go limp as you observe minho, who places your socks down before blindly grabbing one of your t-shirts. he carefully folds it in half, smoothing away its creases because he knows you like perfectly folded clothes, neat and tidy.

a lump materializes in your throat as minho quietly chuckles at the TV, your mind not on the sitcom but on the man folding laundry beside you.

in that moment, a sudden light penetrates the shadowed parts of your mind, ones you've left uncharted for too long, fearing what you'll find hiding in their darkness. instead, you discover a flourishing garden, watered by minho's attentions everytime he's near.

the realization dawns on you suddenly, yet gently, like an unexpected kiss gracing your forehead, a hand grabbing your own when you least anticipate it— you haven't felt lonely in so long.

you couldn't feel lonely on a sunday morning when minho woke with you, willingly giving up on sleep so you could make breakfast together. you couldn't feel lonely when he propped his chin on your shoulder as you scrambled the eggs on the stove, his cold hands sneaking underneath your shirt, a gentle kiss on your neck to compensate his chilling touch.

loneliesss couldn't loom in the supermarket's aisles when minho pushed the cart near you, whining when you didn't give him attention for too long. you couldn't feel lonely as minho helped you pack up the groceries into your car, before caging you against the door, planting a short, but fervent kiss on your lips.

loneliness doesn't cast its shadows on your home when minho helped you clean it, washing the dishes as you diligently swept every counter. you couldn't feel lonely when he suddenly pulled your hand before waltzing around to the soft hums escaping his lips.

loneliness is a stranger when minho folds your laundry, some pieces of his clothing sneaking into your closet. you aren't lonely when minho lives with you, throughout your extraordinary days and your most mundane, boring ones.

a sniffle leaves your lips before you can stop it, and minho's head snaps instinctively to yours, worry drawn onto his face as he furiously racks over your figure. you don't even know where the tears are coming from, but they are streaming furiously down your cheeks, showing no sign of stopping soon.

"baby," he calls out tentatively, putting the fruit bowl on the table and moving closer to you. "what's wrong?" he asks and you straddle his lap, burying your face onto the crook of his neck instead of replying.

you aren't lonely when minho pats your back, rubbing soothing motions on it from the crown of your hair down the end of your spine. you aren't lonely because minho spoke to your loneliness, gently, patiently, until he finally convinced it to desert your bones.

"i love you," you whisper against his skin and he pulls you slightly away, his hands tenderly cradling your face. "i love you. what happened?"

"it's silly and stupid," you mumble, looking down at his lap. he gently hooks a finger beneath your chin, urging you to look at him.

"nothing that makes you cry is stupid. tell me, hm?"

"you help me fold my socks," you say, lower lip slightly quivering. "and clean the house and get my groceries."

"do you not want me to?" he asks, tilting his head to the side.

"no, no. i just can't believe you'd want to."

"why is that?" he inquires, gently wiping your still cascading tears.

"because those are things i used to do alone. i... i never thought I'd have someone with me, by my side, every day," you pause, tears doubling over at your impending confession. "i never thought that one day i would no longer be lonely."

minho's eyes soften incredibly, the way your heart turns into mush in his hands. he silently brings your head to his chest, your cheek pressed right above his heartbeat, and then he sways from left to right, body pressed tightly to yours.

"i'm here now. it's okay, angel, it's over," he whispers, planting a lingering kiss on the top of your head. you clutch his shirt tightly between your fists, allowing his words to permeate your being. to dust every misguided idea you held about your future.

you won't be lonely when minho loves you.

"you know i want to marry you, right? so i plan on folding your laundry for a long long time. under one rule, though."

"what?" you ask with a small voice.

"you won't cry next time i fold your clothes."

"shut up," you pinch his side playfully and he giggles before tickling you in retaliation. your laughter fills the air, quieting down the sound of your tv and simultaneously, all the ugly thoughts that once occupied your head.

[pure-smut]

say red.

featuring: Iwaizumi Hajime x f!reader

contains: academic rivals to lovers, dom!Iwaizumi, rough s*x, degradation, dirty talk, creampie

note: all characters are over 18!

MDNI | 18+ content

word count: 2k

series: 1. say red | 2. say red | 3. say red

masterlist

You’d never paid attention to Iwaizumi Hajime. Just another face in the lecture hall, another voice answering questions, another serious guy with a serious face taking things so seriously.

It’s only when you’re paired together to work on a semester-long project that you pay attention to him for the first time. And wow – he’s fucking annoying.

“We need to meet up more than once every two weeks,” Iwaizumi tells you, frowning at your suggestion. “We won’t get enough done before the deadline.”

“It’ll be fiiiine,” you sigh. “The project barely contributes to our grade. All we need to do is pass.”

Iwaizumi narrows his olive eyes at you, entirely displeased.

“How are you,” he bites out. “… top of the class?”

You give him a sweet smile, throwing up a peace sign.

“Because I’m great, obviously.”

You had somewhat noticed that Iwaizumi’s name was always second below yours whenever test scores were published. It’s clear that’s a sticking point for him because he clenches his teeth so hard, you can see a muscle bouncing in his jaw.

“We’re meeting up twice a week,” Iwaizumi says, standing. When you open your mouth to protest, he gives you a hard look. “That’s final.”

You roll your eyes and shrug.

“Fine, fine.” A grin crawls across your face. “Iwa.”

He shoots you a disgusted look.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What, Iwa? It’s cute.”

Iwaizumi pokes his tongue into his cheek and rolls his eyes skyward.

“Whatever.”

With that, he gathers his bag and stomps out of the lecture hall. Your gaze follows the back of him as he disappears, the smile only slipping off your face when he leaves.

“So annoying,” you mutter to yourself, packing up your own things.

But it’s only until the end the semester. You can grin and bear it that long. Plus, it’s like you said before – the project barely impacts your grades. Iwaizumi might want to force you into way too many boring meetings but you have absolutely no intention of cooperating.

*

Iwaizumi messages you his address and a time to come round to work on the project.

Gotta buy a girl dinner first before you invite her to your bedroom, you message him back. He ignores you.

Like most other students, he lives on campus with a few other roommates. You half-expect to see them when you arrive at Iwaizumi’s but he tells you he’s chosen a day when everyone else is out.

“I need some peace and quiet if I’m dealing with you,” Iwaizumi says.

“Flattered,” you reply.

His room is neat and tidy, a smattering of volleyball trophies on the shelves. You vaguely remember that he’s on the college volleyball team but you didn’t know he’s good enough to have trophies. You smooth your features into something neutral so he doesn’t know you’re impressed.

You both sit at his desk, where Iwaizumi’s already set up notepads, pens and sticky notes.

“You’re prepared,” you remark, eliciting a heavy sigh from Iwaizumi.

“I’m sure it seems that way to someone who doesn’t even bring a pencil to class.”

You swing side to side on his wheely chair as Iwaizumi launches into his plan for the project, talking you through the list of bullet points. You make noncommittal noises, your eyes drifting off.

He has kind of a nice face, you think, your gaze dropping from his short dark hair to his sharp jaw. Iwaizumi’s wearing a t-shirt that stretches across his broad chest, the sleeves tight around his biceps. Damn, he’s pretty built, too.

Iwaizumi continues talking as your mind wanders. You wonder if he’s a good kisser. Hmm, probably too serious for that. Only chaste tongueless kisses and missionary in the dark.

You grin at your own thoughts and Iwaizumi stops talking mid-sentence.

“What are you laughing at?” His brow furrows. “You’re not even fucking listening.”

“Uh, no, not really,” you admit, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“Jesus christ…” Iwaizumi puts his elbows on the desk, digging his palms into his eyes.

He wants to launch himself out of the window. How is it possible that you of all people beat him in class? He freezes when he feels your finger trail over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Iwaizumi looks up.

“You’re so tense,” you say. You’re not lying – Iwaizumi’s muscles are like boulders. You give his bicep a poke and realise there’s almost no give. “Maybe that’s why you’re taking this so seriously.”

“You’re just taking this too lightly,” he says, frowning.

You’re looking at him weirdly, your eyes locked onto his, and the way you’re touching his arm is making his cheeks feel warm. What the fuck is going on?

Iwaizumi’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard and you smile, knowing you’ve got him. You stand up to move over and put yourself in Iwaizumi’s lap instead. His thighs are as hard as the rest of him and it feels like sitting in an actual chair. You wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re kind of cute, y’know,” you say, cocking your head.

“Kind of,” he echoes, giving you a flat look. “Thanks.”

Iwaizumi’s hand rests on your thigh despite his unimpressed tone. You give him a sweet smile and trail a finger along his jaw, feeling the slight stubble there.

“Maybe you need some stress relief, hm?” you suggest, dragging your finger down to his hard chest.

“And you’re offering?”

“I thought you were supposed to be smart?” You cock an eyebrow. “Obviously, yes.”

Iwaizumi regards you, eyes sharp, and your breath hitches. Your smile nearly falters but you save it in time. It feels like he’s looking through you, into you. It’s a struggle to hold his gaze but you’ve never been one to back down. So you look right back at him.

Iwaizumi’s eyes soften and you see him smile for the first time. No, he smirks.

“Say red,” he tells you. “And I’ll stop.”

“O-okay.” You’re annoyed at yourself for stammering but something’s changed with Iwaizumi and it’s thrown you off.

“Repeat it back to me.”

“If I say red, you’ll stop,” you tell him and he gives a short nod, satisfied.

“Good.”

Iwaizumi stands abruptly, picking you up with him and throwing you on the bed. You yelp at the sudden movement, bouncing softly against the mattress.

“What-?”

You don’t have time to ask what the fuck is happening before Iwaizumi’s on you. He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you roughly. He pushes his body between your legs, forcing them apart to accommodate his thick frame.

One of Iwaizumi’s hands grabs your hip as the other snakes around your throat, holding you with enough force for you to feel it but not so hard you’re gasping. His soft lips are in contrast to the sharp stubble scratching your skin, his tongue sliding over yours.

Okay, I might have been wrong, you think. There’s nothing chaste about this.

Iwaizumi grinds his bulge against your clothed pussy, now exposed to him as he tugs up your dress. The friction through two layers of fabric is teasing, making your hips buck, desperate for more. You moan into his mouth and he squeezes your throat.

“Needy little slut,” he says roughly.

Iwaizumi’s degrading words only serve to turn you on even more. His voice has completely changed, now deep and throaty and utterly commanding. Iwaizumi keeps one hand around your neck as his other reaches down to unbutton his jeans.

“Is this what you want so badly?” he says as he pulls his cock free.

You gasp as it slaps against your mound, sending a spark of pleasure through you. You try to nod but Iwaizumi has your throat in too tight a grip.

“Use your fucking words,” he spits. “Tell me.”

“Y-yes, I want it. Please, I want it.”

Iwaizumi reaches down and you hear a violent rip. You’re not able to look down, your head fixed in place, but there’s a cool breeze across your exposed pussy. Your mouth drops open as you realise he’s ripped your panties clean off.

Iwaizumi smirks at your reaction.

“You act like a slut, you get treated like one.”

The Iwaizumi you knew before, so serious and studious, is long gone. You look up at him, his eyes feral, and realise you’ve severely underestimated who you’re up against. He lines up the fat head of his cock with your dripping hole.

“Look how fucking wet you are already.” Iwaizumi pushes himself inside you and you give a choked moan at the feel of him stretching you. “You don’t even need me to get you started, do you? You’ll spread your legs for fucking anyone.”

Iwaizumi’s flurry of degradation is making your pussy drool for him, only spurring you both on. But a nugget of defiance forms in your chest, even as tears stick to your lashes.

“This what your needy little pussy wants?” he demands, pushing in deeper to bottom out.

His cock feels so fucking good, dragging against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you to make your whole body feel like it’s on fire, but your determination not to let him take over fully kicks in.

“Y-yes, Iwa,” you breathe out.

Iwaizumi’s jaw clenches.

“I told you not to fucking call me that,” he grits out.

As if to punctuate, he starts to pound at you hard. Every slam pushes you closer to the edge, sending a jolt through your body to the tips of your toes. His large hand around your neck is delicious, pinning you beneath him as he fucks you raw. You sink your nails into his forearm, lustful whimpers falling from your lips.

“S-sorry…” you gasp. “… Iwa.”

Iwaizumi growls, moving faster and setting a brutal pace.

“Fucking brat.”

You don’t have the strength to talk back anymore. Iwaizumi’s cock is pulling you to the edge, making your eyes roll back in your skull as he rips an orgasm from you. Your pussy clenches down like a vice grip around his cock and a moan escapes Iwaizumi’s throat.

“Fuck… fuck…” he groans.

Iwaizumi fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, wanting to watch you bounce under him. Your walls are so slick, so hot, so fucking tight. You’re tearing down all his restraint, moaning so sweetly even as his fist is wrapped around your throat. He knows he’s not going to last much longer.

“I’m… gonna cum…” Iwaizumi says, voice hoarse.

“Inside me,” you plead. “Cum inside me, Iwa.”

Your words tip him over the edge.

His grip tightens on your neck, almost making you dizzy, as he thrusts once, burying himself fully. The moan he makes as he comes undone inside you is intoxicating, satisfying in a way you can’t explain. Iwaizumi’s chest heaves as he half-collapses on top of you, his arms shaking as he holds himself up.

Neither of you say anything, breathless and sweat-slicked.

“Well.” You break the silence with a grin. “I dunno about you but I definitely feel better.”

Iwaizumi’s serious face returns as he rolls his eyes, pulling away from you. He tugs a few tissues free from a box on his nightstand, handing them to you first before himself.

“What a gentleman,” you coo, cleaning yourself up.

“It’s polite. I’m not a savage.”

“The way you fuck says different.”

Even though you’ve still got his cum spilling out of you, Iwaizumi’s ears go pink at your comment. He ignores you and buttons his jeans back up. Cute, you think with a smile.

You point at your destroyed underwear.

“And you ruined my panties. That was rude.”

Iwaizumi’s cheeks tint as he blushes harder.

“Yeah, sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’ll buy you a new pair.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Finished cleaning yourself up, you hop off his bed and straighten your dress. “I’ll just make sure I’m not wearing any next time.”

Iwaizumi stills.

“Next time?”

“Duh.” You put a hand on your hip. “That was great, right? And my head feels totally clear. I think I’m actually ready to listen to your project plan or whatever.”

You take a seat at his desk, hands clasped demurely on your lap and smiling sweetly.

“Twice a week you said?”

[missydior]

pretty in pink ౨ৎ

notes: oscar piastri x girly!reader, est. relationship, protective demeanour, unwelcome attention from strangers, fluff. requested.

a/n: i adored writing this, and it helped encourage me to stop writing for only charles in all honesty. ily.

The aroma of petrichor against warm pastries from the L'Amour du Pain Vieux bakery nearby lingers, skies over Montréal grey with the lull of clouds where hints of the early afternoon light dance through and upon the Circuit Gilles Villeneuve below, a gentle remnant of dampness about the smooth stone streets from rainfall earlier in the hour that has since come to a halt.

With qualifying to commence in a few hours – highlighting the true beginning of the Canadian Grand Prix where your boyfriend hopes to secure the finest result possible – there is a heightening feel about the paddock as you wander through, latte of oat-milk and vanilla balanced in one soft-skinned hand, donned in your favourite, little dress like blushing, pale peonies.

After an early albeit comfortable, familiar morning waking beside Oscar in your shared hotel suite amongst the quiet luxury of pretty, minimal décor – mussed bed sheets of lush cotton, cashmere throws and interlocked limbs – shared, slow kisses and breakfast consisting of sweet, syruped pancakes and coffee, before greeting the true day ahead, you are most excited.

Amongst conversational journalists with inviting, saccharine smiles merely for enticement and photographers who do not hesitate to notice your face, the lovely and pretty diamond that is Oscar Piastri's lovable girlfriend, you have never quite opposed to the media attention so long as you have him by your side.

"Hm." Chanel ballet flats of embroidered ivory and light-pink clicking on the path, comforted by your sweet treat in hand whilst balancing your iPhone in the other – a brief conversation with your lover concluding he would be busy for another couple of minutes at least due to press conferences – you are mostly contently lost in your own daydreams.

"Excuse me?"

It is the sound of a voice addressed in your direction that has you faltering in your gait, pretty head tilting just the slightest to glimpse over your shoulder just as the sudden voice and approach of a male has you somewhat shy.

"Sorry, I feel like I know you from somewhere," He is youthful, perhaps the same age or a year older than the aforementioned by looks, dressed rather comfortably in a clean, white shirt of linen only half-buttoned against the beige hues of his trousers, Française Cartier watch glinting on his wrist.

His mouth curves on a smile, eyes like caramel dancing over your face and lower until he allows himself the fleeting, silent glance at how the neat edges of your mini dress hug your thighs before straightening his stance once again, lithe fingers threading through his styled, light hair.

The words leave you a touch perplexed given you certainly do not recognise him and lack any recollection of his face, laughing uncertainly as you tuck a stray hair behind the shell of your ear with the clink of a rose quartz bracelet about your wrist, the sound sweet as an angel's.

"I'm sorry, I don't think–"

"It's alright, I don't either." The man continues with an amiable shrug as though pretending to understand or assume what you had been meaning to say, countenance turning more charismatic on the edge of a revealed dimple, "My name's Jacques, love."

There is something in his gaze and the execution of his demeanour which has you hesitating, rosebud mouth parted ajar whilst you glance about momentarily even when the hint of a natural, polite smile remains.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jacques," You reply quietly, the expression you hold towards him is a pleasant one despite yourself, although not enough to reveal the slight discomfort that lurks in the depths of your stomach, "But my boyfriend is–"

"Right here."

As if the mention or mere thought of him was an innate manifestation, you are greeted with the presence of a certain, handsome individual where you recognise the warmth of his aura just as fingertips are felt on the curve of your vertebrae against a splayed palm.

You cannot deny or refuse the immediate beginnings of a soft smile and the ease flourishing within you as soon as his touch is known, the lingering scent of his cologne with hints of patchouli and rosewood permeating, an incline of your head allowing gazes to meet momentarily in mutual greeting.

He stands tall beside you, the limb draped around your waist a familiar presence whilst eyes of an intimate, rich hue that remind you of coffee and autumn dance between yourself and the other man who now stands a touch awkwardly with a dissuaded visage.

"Is this man bothering you, princess?" His tone is honey-like, a smooth and lowered baritone that you adore, though there is the telltale sign of his fingertips that press a touch firmer against your hipbone, and the arch of a brow, that demonstrates the silent brewing of protectiveness in the midst of his affections for you. Oscar Piastri is an affectionate sweetheart, true to his feelings and honest in generosity with the renowned presence of patience, though can be a defensive figure when the subject concerns his girl.

"Not really. He was just being friendly," Your cadence is light and sweet with imploration, the subtle gesture of a kiss left against his cheekbone in comforting warmth as you balance on the edge of your toes momentarily.

You are sweet, almost too much so with your pretty looks and the faint glimpses of innocence there even though you know exactly where you stand; it has Oscar longing to return to the quiet privacy of home where nobody will harass you both for attention, where he can have you to himself even if only for a little while.

Jacques chuckles, almost uncertainly in a manner that juxtaposes his previous incentive whilst tucking one palm into the concealing wool of his tailored slacks when he nods, "I was just saying 'hello', no harm done."

The Australian does not seem particularly reassured though there is no instigation for a disagreement, looking over the other only a moment longer without another word before he's silently coaxing you against his side when he walks with a gait somewhat quicker than his usual.

"Wait," Your kissable lips touch a little downward in uncertain wonder, though you follow his guidance easily, a touch intrigued by his lingering silence that lacks explanation, "Where are we headed? Was I doing something wrong?"

There is no initial comfort or answer to your inquiries as he looks forward, evidently lost to his own thoughts whilst internally calming himself from the dwindling ache of his possession over you, a muscle in the line of his jaw shifting almost imperceptibly.

A boring press conference consisting of being asked the same questions like a repetitive, tedious dance had already left him a touch bitter, and the sight of a stranger trying to steal his girlfriend's attention away only aggravates him further.

Eventually, your shared walk leads to the quieter alcoves of the McLaren hospitality comforts until he's nudging you backwards through a white-varnished door, breathing in the sweetness of your perfume – Good Girl: Blush – with hints of almond against sweet peonies, vanilla and coumarin.

"You weren't doing anything wrong," Oscar murmurs, his arm entwined securely about your figure as his lips ghost over the outer shell of your ear near the glimmer of divine, embellished earrings he gifted you on your birthday after he had seen you admiring them through the glass of a jewellery shop once, swallowing slowly.

It is a quiet, comfortable room – one that he often confides in the refuge of when in need of fleeing from the never-ending attention and demands of his profession, an inviting, plush chaise lounge of white cushioning, shelves and cupboards of various items.

Your glossed lips touch into a delicate pout of mystery, a gentle sound of consideration and acknowledgement leaving the back of your throat whilst arms drape loosely around his neck, the edges of your thumbs tracing along his nape where you feel the soft hairs there.

"Then what was it?"

"Nothing." It is an uncharacteristically brief reply, though the manner his lightly-calloused palms cradle the small of your waist until he cannot quite restrain himself from the tightened grasp there with a brief glance towards the closed door, exhaling through his teeth in some kind of defeat, "I'm... Do you want me to be honest?"

The question is uttered so softly that the question leaves you a fraction breathless, heart thrumming within the interns of your rib cage like a dove locked away as you nod.

"I always want the truth from you, Ossie," You respond in a lull so saccharine it sounds like a sing-song of delight, the edge of your index finger and thumb dancing downwards against the soft fabric of his sweater before pausing when you meet his eyes through your lashes.

Oscar sighs, though there is the slightest of reservations of a smile the corners of his mouth at the manner in which you address him, a nickname reserved especially for when the two of you are alone together and intimate.

He does not immediately bless you with an answer, tilting your head towards him in silent, shared invitation before your mouths melt together. It is slow and sweet, tasting one another and your belongings forgotten on the nearby, makeshift desk of polished oak, a sweetened hint of café au lait on your tongue.

"Seeing that man," He begins between chaste kisses, not quite allowing you the liberty of shying away as he holds you close until your back nudges the ivory-coated wall behind, near drawn photographs of memorabilia from old Grand Prixes, "And how he looked at you, it made me want to–"

He pauses, inhaling audibly as though trying to meditate on his own emotions in that moment, his hands feeling over your body like a sculptor and his finest work before he swallows the remainder of his sentence with a kiss.

Oscar Piastri is an undeniably attractive man when he's possessive over you, touching every inch of you like his belongings, muttered sweet nothings and vows of devotions against your tongue. It is a warm feeling, knowing he will always protect you without hesitance. And he does, cherishes you like the pretty doll you seem to be, because he cares in some earnest, undying reality.

"I love you."

The punctuation of another kiss, "I love you more." And he traces the jut of your ribs through the thin, velveteen fabric of your rosé dress when he holds you close until you're flush together, sighing against your lips, "I will never let anybody hurt you, ever. Understood?"

"I understand."

[roxirinart]

Aventurine... You've Gotta Hand It To Him

An in-depth analysis of Aventurine's hands and why they're critical to his character.

Was asked if I could post this (VERY LONG) analysis I made all about Aventurine's hands - niche, perhaps, but I love him very much and he has a LOT of focus placed on his hands in almost every aspect of his story/design! I think it makes for a really neat insight into his character. Let’s go! 2K words or so so we're under a 'read more', folks :P Hope someone finds it interesting :)

Content warning for (very brief mentions of) sexual theming and violence.

I MIGHT be reaching with some of this but I tried to make sure everything was in order, so if there are any inaccuracies lmk! I'm Always on the lookout for more valuable Avencheem lore 😋

The Avgin - Culture and Symbolism

Kakavasha was born 'blessed' with unnaturally good luck by the Avgin goddess, Gaiathra Triclops, who is often depicted as a left palm with three eyes upon it. If we assume that therefore, someone’s left hand is representative of Gaiathra, then we can draw some interesting conclusions! 

When reciting Gaiathra’s prayer, the typical accompanying gesture is for two participants to put their left palms together while saying it, which - by ‘covering’ Gaiathra’s eyes with each other’s palms, they are (as per the words of the prayer) ‘keeping their schemes forever concealed’.

In the version of Aventurine’s boss form that was removed from the Divergent Universe, he has an attack that changes name for each phase of the fight, as follows:

Phase 1: “Eyes Once Closed for Lies”, 

Phase 2: “Eyes Twice Closed for Trickery”

Phase 3: “Eyes Thrice Closed for Schemes”. 

This suggests that the symbolic act of Gaiathra closing her eyes is blessing the person in question not to have their lies, trickery, or schemes revealed - “I do not perceive it, nor shall anyone else.” This is important to the Avgin, as they seem to have a cultural focus on underhanded methods of achieving their goals, although this was blown greatly out of proportion by prejudice from other Sigonians, and (later) the wider cosmos. The game’s loading screen description of the Avgin is as follows:

“‘Avgin’ means ‘honey’ in the Sigonian language, yet those who irrationally fear Avgins unjustifiably distort the word's meaning to perpetuate Avgin stereotypes that portray them as crafty, smooth-talking, and capricious.”

Sparkle, when talking to Aventurine, also describes the Avgin as “...notorious throughout the entire universe! Liars, thieves, social manipulators, wolves in sheep's clothing... You're really living up to the reputation.”

The Avgin’s reputation as essentially ‘evil’ people, and the clear cultural and religious importance they place upon one’s left hand specifically, can reveal some interesting things about them (and therefore about Kakavasha):

In the real world, the left hand is very commonly considered to be the ‘wrong’ or ‘evil’ hand across many religions and cultures. The word ‘sinister’ (which may be a good descriptor for Aventurine’s behavior, or at least peoples' perception of him given how other characters react to him during the main questline) comes from a Latin word that means ‘on the left side’.

The French word for left, ‘gauche’ was borrowed back into english to mean ‘lacking social grace’ - and with Aventurine’s way of getting all up in peoples’ faces, grandstanding, being provocative, etc., it seems that ‘gauche’ isn’t a bad descriptor for him, either.

In the early 20th century, left-handedness was identified as ‘a biological anomaly, associated with deviancy but something that could be corrected away with behavioral reinforcement’.

Likewise, in the middle ages in England, left-handed people were more likely to be accused of witchcraft and burned at the stake. Sounds familiar when compared to the way Sigonia treated the Avgin - as evildoers, tricksters, backstabbers, etc.,

If the Avgin were so ‘left-handed’ in all senses of the phrase, then… perhaps the ‘behavioral correction’ they received could be justified...?

It is reinforced several times throughout both written lore and during gameplay that the Avgin’s beautiful appearances and high emotional intelligence were a source of jealousy to other clans and races, hence the perpetuation of the Avgin’s negative reputation - one that Aventurine ends up playing into, often intentionally.

Why bother trying to change the stereotype if he can use it to his advantage? Besides, it’s not like getting rid of the Avgins’ negative rep will help them now, anyway.

All this is to say that the concept of hiding your true intentions with your left hand - ‘keeping your cards close to your chest’, ‘bluffing’, ‘having an ace up your sleeve’, knowing when to ‘show your hand’ - is a huge overarching theme for the Avgin, and therefore for Aventurine.

Notice that a LOT of sayings to do with hiding things from others or manipulating people’s impressions of you and what they think you might do come from poker or other card games! I can’t think of any universe where the devs did that by accident. Nice work, devs!

The Left Hand

‘Sleight of hand’ is the name of Aventurine’s game, and he sure knows how to play it. ‘Sleight’ means “the use of dexterity or cunning, especially so as to deceive”, so naturally the suffix ‘- of hand’ brings Aventurine’s hands to the forefront as one of his main tools of the trade!

However, the devs once again outdid themselves - each of Aventurine’s hands is representative of parts of his character in very different ways.

Everything about Aventurine is designed to cleverly divert attention away from his real thoughts and feelings.

I’ll get the obvious out of the way: Aventurine’s left hand (as previously discussed) is critically important to his character. It represents so many things for him both visually and otherwise.

If you’re a regular Aventurine enjoyer it’s likely you know about his habit of hiding his left hand behind his back when he’s nervous or making a big (or life-threatening) gamble - but why?

He’s specifically hiding Gaiathra’s hand. I don’t think it’s a coincidence; Aventurine - by hiding away what is essentially a physical representation of his goddess - is ‘closing her eyes’, so he cannot be seen through (even if it’s purely subconscious).

He wants people locked onto his gaze and away from the hand he’s clutching Gaiathra’s ‘blessing’ of good luck so tightly with. (Note: the ironic nature of Aventurine’s relationship with his cursed blessing isn’t lost on me, but that’s another day’s essay. :))

This habit of hiding his left hand behind his back is (once you’re looking for it) very common in the majority of his animations, art, cinematics, and other various media, like in his character trailer when he’s about to reveal the result of his big dice roll; in a specific animation during his bossfight, where he’s actively banking on losing so he can carry out his ‘grand death’ (‘clutching his chips for dear life’, as his future self put it…); the idle animation where he’s fidgeting with one of his poker chips; or in the ‘Final Victor’ light cone, where he is playing russian roulette with his own life just to prove a point to Dr. Ratio (which was a little excessive, perhaps…).

Usually, having a hand behind your back is considered to be suspicious: you’re hiding something, perhaps a weapon.

And for Kakavasha, out of fear and knowing it’ll give him the upper hand, he hides his own weapon behind his back: the physical representation of all his schemes, strategies, lies, trickery, and tactics - and the last Avgin palm to touch another’s.

Perhaps in relation to his particularly strong connection with Gaiathra, Aventurine is also left-handed! Evidence? Sure!

As a general ‘fashion rule’ (and for practicality), wristwatches are worn on the non-dominant hand, and someone as fashion-conscious as Aventurine would very likely be aware of this. His watch is on his right wrist.

Additionally, he wears no rings on his left hand because writing or similar activities would be a pain to do with that much jewelry on. Further evidence can be found in this phone wallpaper of him released by Hoyoverse: he’s holding his phone with his left hand, and people usually operate their phones with their dominant hand. Similarly, in one of the many videos on the Hoyoverse YouTube channel (I’m sorry I don’t know which one it’s from), he goes to grab his tablet off the bedside table with his left hand, too.

The Right Hand

Aventurine’s character is, at its core, is all about defense. Protecting himself from harm, shielding his thoughts and feelings from others, creating an impenetrable barrier of flashy clothing and fake smiles to conceal his true self - this all presents in his moveset in battle, too.

He’s a preservation-class, shield-providing character. The critical thing to note is this: his defense all happens on the right hand. This includes his skill (throwing out chips with his right hand to shield his teammates), and his technique, which generates an additional shield for the team before the start of battle. 

His right hand ‘shields’ him both literally and metaphorically in this sense. He wears all his rings on his right hand, because that’s the hand he wants you to focus on, the pretty, sparkly one with all the flashy jewelry and expensive wristwatch, the one that’s extended for you to shake (he shakes with his right hand), the only part of him most people get to touch. A part of the body furthest away from his heart, dazzling and defensive.

The outermost, superficial layer.

It’s the hand that more often performs captivating little coin tricks out in the open to catch people’s attention, keeping them focused on something that’s within his control, because so much of his life isn't.

On The Attack

Here’s the kicker though - this makes his left hand the attacking hand. When push comes to shove (or when he feels he needs to strike first), Aventurine lashes out with Gaiathra’s hand.

As mentioned before, his weapons are his schemes, his secrets, his tricks, his lies - and the hand holding all those chips so tightly is his left, the lucky hand, the one that has brought him success and saved his life time and time again.

Ultimately, it all comes down to relying on his raw luck to push him through (whether he's happy about that or not) when all his other methods of attack have been stripped away - and his hand trembles, because having to make a blind bet that his goddess (who did nothing to stop his family being massacred, yet is both cruel and benevolent enough to keep him alive) will save him yet again must be really fucking terrifying.

When Your Hands Are Tied...

Looking at both hands together, a design choice which I believe to be deliberate is the way he has bracelets of some variety over both his wrists. It’s a subtle imitation of manacles; he may have escaped his iron ones, but Aventurine now lives in golden handcuffs instead, bound by social shackles instead of physical ones.

He’s still a slave - just not in the traditional sense.

To my understanding (someone please correct me if I'm wrong, his timeline has some annoying gaps in it even though I tried very hard to figure it out ;-;), technically Aventurine legally belongs to the IPC.

He killed his most recent owner and so escaped his that particular ownership, sure, but when he barters with Jade, he asks her to pay him the ‘remainder of his market value’, which insinuates that it would therefore give him ownership of himself.

However, Jade doesn’t simply hand over the money: she pulls him into a job contract - a new form of imprisonment - without ever giving him real legal autonomy, never officially declaring him a free man. His hands are invisibly tied - bound by corporate and social 'manacles' to his job.

"Out, Damned Spot!"

Speaking of manacles, let’s talk about the ‘Hunger Games’, shall we?

Kakavasha is, at some indeterminate point, entered into a spectator sport where he is forced to fight thirty-four other slaves to the death.

It is mentioned that he has no other weapon than the bindings on his wrists and the chain between them - and he emerges ‘victorious’ (physically the victor... perhaps not mentally or emotionally, though).

In the quest notes during Aventurine’s (literal) trip through the maze while he’s making his way to the stage for his grand finale, he describes himself with the word ‘murderer’, showing that he’s clearly distraught by what happened and resents himself for it. 

Following on from this, a possible interpretation of the design choice to have Aventurine wear gloves is for him to (figuratively) hide the blood on his hands.

Aventurine’s gloves simultaneously create a literal barrier between himself and the world, and work as another piece of fancy clothing to add to his impenetrable, sparking defense. The closest match I could find to the style of Aventurine’s gloves are short dress gloves or wrist gloves, which are specifically fashion items as opposed to practical ones.

(As a cheeky little aside, the absolute closest style match I could find for his gloves are latex or leather womens’ gloves most commonly used in BDSM, which is fun! Maybe I’m reaching, but I like to think it’s a subtle way of making him more effeminate - and in Aventurine’s case, therefore a subtle call to his sexuality imo - and also another little detail to help push his ‘provocative’ appearance and demeanor.)

Conclusion

Our hands are how we interact with the world. In Aventurine’s case, they’re how he keeps the world pushed as far away from himself as possible, all the while gripping onto his ‘good luck’ for dear life.

Aventurine’s hands are his weapons, his shield, his faith, his fear, and his guilt, decorated with jeweled rings and bound in golden handcuffs.

Ultimately, when Aventurine offers to lend a hand to the Trailblazer, when he shows Sunday his hand (and a bit more besides) during their meeting, and when he forces Acheron’s hand during his bossfight, it's so that his own hands are free to do whatever he needs to orchestrate his greatest scheme yet...

...for better or worse.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Study Buddy pt1

Stepdad!Anakin x femme reader

18+ MDNI

Warnings: dubcon, dd/lg, PiV, unprotected sex, gen. smut, baby trapping, edging kinda?, manipulation, possessiveness, age-gap, stepcest, inappropriate relationship, praise kink, breeding kink, innocence/purity kink

Info: stepdad Anakin just adores his stepdaughter! It’s not his fault that she’s so fucking fine. Anakin is a perv but it’s okay cause he loves you, Anakin just wants the best for you! And the best for you is him, obviously. spoiled little naive brat reader but Anakin prefers you that way. Reader acts more innocent/naive than they really are. Reader is over 18

🕊 Dead dove do not eat 🕊

The one where you just need alittle extra incentive.

You sighed, taking your calculus homework into the living room. Handing Anakin the Pepsi he requested and sat down in the floor. Leaning back against the couch and setting the notebook down on the coffee table so you could get back to work.

"Good girl." He praised, his fingers brushing against your cheek from behind you. He took a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"What are you working on?" His eyes trailed downwards, lingering on your body for a moment, taking the opportunity to stare at the dimples in the small of your back. He was relaxed, shirtless and in his favorite pj pants with his socked feet kicked up on the coffee table next to you.

“Calculus homework.” You grumbled. “my brain is basically fried. This shit is driving me nuts.”

You pushed the notebook away in frustration and twirled the pencil between your fingers.

“Hey. Language.” He said gruffly. “Chill out, do you want help? I’m pretty alright at math.”

“Actually, yeah that would be great.” You nodded, grumbling in frustration.

Sometimes all you needed to understand something is to see it from a different angle, maybe Anakin, your step-dad could help with that.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled softly to himself before putting out his cigarette.

Standing up to stretch his arms above his head. The dark hairs leading to the waist of his pants exposed as his shirt rode up his abdomen. He knelt down so his face was level with yours. Reaching out, he took the notebook from you and scanned the pages.

"Hmm... huh... well, let's start here," he said, pointing to a problem written in your neat handwriting. Grunting as he sat down next to you, his arms resting on his knees.

After solving the equation he helped with the next question, and you were finally starting to get the hang of it. He gave you a kiss on the cheek as a reward, a soft one that made you smile, one that said ‘I’m so proud of you!’. For the next one you got right it was an unexpected but smooth kiss to your lips.

“Daddy.” You whispered in shock at his real kiss. “We’re not supposed to do that!”

Anakin’s gaze softened as he pulled you into a comforting hug.

“Aw sweet girl, I’m sorry. I should’ve explained myself first.” He sighed.

“This is real hard work isn’t it?” He asked, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah it is.” You nodded.

He laughed a little. “And what do I always say when you do hard work?”

“You always tell me hard work deserves big rewards.” You grinned, thinking of all the times he’d taken you out to your favorite restaurant, to see a new movie, to buy you new things.

But your favorite rewards and treats were the ones he got you on his way home from work. Sometimes when he felt like you needed a little pick-me up, he’d stop at the store and get you a box of candy or one of those tiny little cutesy squishmallows that come in the surprise eggs.

He smiled, giving you a light squeeze just above the knee. “Exactly!”

“I’ve found a much better way to reward you my sweet girl.” He spoke in a cheerful tone in an attempt to make you smile and it was working effortlessly. “Somethin’ real special that I think you will love.”

“And it’s kisses?” You said, tilting your head to the side.

“Sometimes kisses, sometimes not.” He said, giving you a chaste kiss on the forehead.

“Well what’s the sometimes not?” You asked excitedly, what could possibly be better than kisses?

“Oh come on now.” He teased. “Treats and rewards are always better as surprises aren’t they?”

“Yeah you’re right.” You giggled.

“That's better," he cooed, satisfied by your reaction.

“Now come here, let's continue our 'lesson.'" With a gentle tug, he pulled you into the empty space between his legs, scooting your back toward him enough that he could easily rest his chin on your shoulder to watch you work.

He placed the notebook back on the coffee table and leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your neck as he spoke.

“So, how about we start with some stuff you already know? Something simple to ease us back into things?" He traced slow circles on your exposed lower back with his thumb, his fingers pressing gently into the flesh of your stomach as his massive hand rested on your side.

"O-okay..." You stuttered, unable to ignore the sudden warmth spreading throughout your body.

“Alright.” He nodded, flipping through the text book until he reached the previous chapter you had been working on in class. He wrote out some equations for you to solve and quickly worked them out himself on his phone calculator before typing the answers in his notes app and telling you to get started.

Each step in the equation that you did correctly Anakin would press a tiny little barely there kiss to your shoulder.

“You’re doing real good doll-face.” He praised you quietly with his cheek pressed against yours and couldn’t help but smile when you felt him do the same.

“Just keep working hard and I’ll help when you need me to. But right now, try to work them out yourself and I’ll keep giving you sweet little reward kisses!” He said happily.

“Okay Daddy.” You smiled, leaning back against his chest and setting out to work on the next question.

He chuckled softly, pleased with your progress and willingness to please. As you finished each equation, he would whisper sweet words of encouragement followed by little kisses along your neck and shoulders. He even nibbled your earlobe a few times, which you quickly discovered had that strange butterfly effect in your tummy as well.

"Good girl, good girl," he murmured approvingly as your confidence in your work grew. "You're doing great, keep it up."

“Alright, now I’m gonna make you some new ones, they’re gonna be harder alright? Once we get these down, I’ll set up some more difficult ones and then you can try to ones you were assigned for homework. They’ll seem easy after you’ve worked so hard on these other ones!” Anakin explained as he began writing out new equations for you to solve.

He took great care in making sure to double check the answers to ensure he’d be able to properly tutor you.

After getting the first more advanced one finished correctly, Anakin started his plan to give you a new reward.

“Look at you princess, you’re doing so well!” His voice flowing soothingly as he switched from sweet chaste kisses to nibbling and sucking on your neck.

You gasped, in a state of awe at the way he could turn those chaste kisses into something warm and wet and lingering. Those silky soft lips momentarily destroying your ability to think freely.

While you were distracted, he took the opportunity to sweeten the pot. One of his calloused hands defied any pre-conceived notions that one might associate with such an attribute. One might expect a man with hands like Anakin’s; large rough palms, long fingers, overall strong and veiny, to be brutish or rough.

Though it seemed he was naturally the direct opposite. One of those big strong hands slid from it’s resting place to slip beneath the hem of your shirt. Splaying those long fingers across the expanse of your lower abdomen, pressing gently, just enough to properly feel each breath you took from the rise and fall of your tummy.

After a moment of savoring this intimacy Anakin brought that same hand up over the fabric of your shirt once more. A slow ascent to cup your breast, remaining motionless despite the twitch of his finger that exposed his want for more than a simple touch.

After the next correct answer he finally allowed that eager twitch to bloom into small deliberate circles around your nipple. Sparingly brushing his thumb over the hardened nub in order to properly appreciate and enjoy the helpless whimper that escaped your lips each time.

“Next question?” You asked quietly, Anakin only mumbling a ‘yes’ against your skin as he kept up his slow sensual neck and shoulder kisses paired with both of his now hands softly massaging your breasts and nipples. The added squeeze of his palm was almost soothing. As though he aimed to tame the warming embers of desire that lay dormant beneath your skin.

"Atta girl," he praised, his voice low and husky.

"Now, let's try this one." He observed attentively while you struggled to focus on the task at hand.

He chuckled at the way you squirmed every so often and relented, now guiding you through each step while his hands continued their teasing exploration of your body.

"Almost there, I believe in you sweetheart." Somehow his words felt like the rays of afternoon summer sun that shone through the curtains. You imagined that this must be the equivalent to how your cat feels when he bathes in those rays.

“Well babydoll, this is how we’ll do your homework from now on! You’re doing so so good!” He praised you, reluctantly removing his hands from your breasts.

“You deserve alittle brain break okay?” He said, guiding your head to turn with one finger on your jaw.

Before you could speak Anakin slotted his lips against yours. His tongue swiping lightly across your bottom lip, a slight up turn of his mouth when you gasped. He gently, slowly probed your mouth with his tongue; savoring the unique flavor of you.

‘Raspberry tea and honey, yes, that’s it. That’s what she tastes like.’ He decided, locking that information away into the corner of his mind that was reserved for you. Though that corner was becoming much like the chair in the corner of your room that overflowed with clothes. A few more things stacked on top would topple the precarious pile, spilling all things you into every crack and crevice of his conscience.

Meanwhile you were currently short circuiting. The onslaught of completely foreign sensations he’d provided you with was beginning to quite literally fry your brain. You felt warm, mushy, like your brain was goo and your body was clay, ready and willing to be molded to Anakin in whatever new ways he saw fit.

He pulled back, a wide toothy grin taking over when he saw the glaze that had taken over your eyes. Those beautiful eyes, their rich color stolen away by the deep black of your pupil.

“See? You needed that huh?” He cooed, running his thumb down your jaw while we waited patiently for you to collect yourself enough to respond.

“Uh… uh huh.” You nodded slowly, your cheeks flushed and your throat feeling tight as stoked those ember-coals within you, now burning to form a red hot flame.

“Can I try something pretty girl?” He asked in that seductive whisper.

“Oh, ‘course daddy.” You breathed out, of course you’d let him. You’d let him do anything if it meant you could have more of this.

“Thank you baby.” He whispered as he gently rolled the hem of your shirt up, guiding it up and over your head.

You whimpered, the cool air hitting your burning hot flesh making a cold shiver travel up your spine. You swear you heard a little moan coming from Anakin when he finally caught a glimpse of your bare back, and you were positive you heard one when he reached around once more to massage your breasts and toy with your nipples; he was so incredibly grateful to be rid of that pesky fabric barrier, and even more grateful that you never wore a bra at home.

He squeezed and pulled your nipples gently rolling them between his fore finger and thumb. The feeling was good, warm, and tingly; somehow even better than before. Inwardly you wanted to smack him for not taking off your shirt sooner.

A low moan left your lips Anakin reacting with a light chuckle and a sloppy kiss to the under side of your jaw.

“That's it, you're doing great," He praised, his voice dripping with pride; pride at how well you were responding to him.

He was proud of the you he was slowly bringing to the surface. Teasing the little minx that hid behind your innocence, he knew it was waiting for him. Ready for him to capture and keep it, to train it to feed from his palm.

"Now, let's try this one." He suggested, showing you another equation.

Now his fingers trailed slowly down your stomach towards the top of your shorts. He paused just above them, to follow the curve of the elastic cotton waistband with featherlight fingertips.

"This one might be a bit trickier, but remember, I believe in you." He cooed.

“Okay daddy.” You nodded, breathing heavier. “If you think I can do it.”

“I do princess.” *He reassured you.

Anakin's touch became increasingly bold, his fingers making their way to your inner thighs. Leaving tingling sensation to form between your legs, you jolted for a moment, that single flame of desire growing, burning hotter and hotter.

“Lift up sweetheart.” He whispered.

“M’kay.” You squeaked, your voice feeling small.

He gently removed your shorts, a satisfied hum rumbled in his chest when you sat back down and his hand returned to its rightful place between your thighs.

His teasing touch, the torturously gentle tracing of the edges of your panties making your wetness seep through the thin material of your underwear. He continued to stimulate your nipples, and switched to the opposite side of your neck, while he changed tactics on your lower half. Two fingers pressing lightly against that dampened cotton, massaging slowly, making you squirm slightly in response.

“Oh no, is that uncomfy?” He asked gently, concern in his tone.

“Yes,” You whimpered. “all tingly.”

“It won’t be for long alright princess? Daddy’s right here to help.” He promised, his lips against your ear lobe.

“But-“ You started, wanting to complain. Wanting to ask for more; more of what? Good question and only Anakin had that answer.

He tsks, shaking his head slightly. “Finish this one up sweetheart.”

You whined in response and huffed at not getting your way. But followed instructions regardless because Anakin was always right, he was always here to help, always here to guide you, and always gave in to your wants eventually. He couldn’t stand to tell you no, he just couldn’t do it. It was like it physically pained him to see your bottom lip in a pout.

He signed and applied alittle more pressure to encourage you to get back to your work.

A few agonizing minutes later he confirmed your answer was correct, resulting in your excited and eager reaction. You turned slightly to look back at Anakin expectantly,

He grinned, rolling his eyes. He knew exactly what you were doing, you were waiting for him to deal the next card in your new game.

"Perfect job darlin’ you got it on the first try!” He praised, nuzzling into your hair to smell the warm vanilla scent of it.

He tapped your thigh and you instinctively lifted your legs up. He cooed, soothing words while slipping your panties off and lifting you into his lap. Your wet pussy pressed against the large bulge in his pants, those two fingers slipping past your pussy lips. He coated his digits in your slick, dragging them back and forth, up and down your slit.

“Is that right? Did I do that one? I feel like it’s n-not right.” You asked him for help, and when he confirmed it was correct he dipped the very tip of his middle finger in between your soaking wet folds.

“That's right, baby girl." His voice was low and husky, though alittle richer, perhaps it could be described better as darker.

"Now let's try this one together." With a slow motion, he inserted his middle finger into you fully. As you struggled with keeping your sanity, trying to hold a pencil, and trying not to cry from the overwhelming urge for more, Anakin was merely breathing heavily. Occasionally grunting as your cunt fluttered around his finger, his cock throbbing against you.

"How does that feel?" He asked, his tone dripping with satisfaction at watching you squirm and writhe under his touch.

“I- I like it daddy. It feels good.” You whined, feeling him add a second finger and stretching you a bit. It burned, but in a good way.

“That’s right baby.” Anakin nodded. “It’s supposed to feel good, and I’ll make it even better after we get alllll this silly homework done okay?”

Anakin said as you bucked lightly against his palm, chuckling when he heard a low moan escape your lips as he curled his fingers and pushed them in slowly, dragging them back out even slower. The snail’s pace was tolerable, a thousand times more satisfactory compared to his mean and teasing touches before, though they still continually added to that growing fire pit of yours.

“That's it, baby girl." He praised, adding another finger to stretch you even more.

“Daddy.” You hissed, sucking air through your teeth.

“I know darlin’ it’s okay.” He soothed. “Just sit real still.”

You sniffled, accidentally wiggling a bit too much. “S’hurting daddy.”

He began to thrust his three long digits slowly in and out of you, his hips rocking rhythmically in time with his hands movements.

“Shhh. My little princess." Anakin's voice was filled with sympathy, his fingers moving slower inside you. His thumb starting to rub circles on your sensitive nub. “Daddy’s here, just trust me.”

Your furrowed eyebrows slowly turned into an upward swoop, your anxious lip biting coming to a halt as your jaw dropped open in a silent moan.

“That’s better isn’t it doll?” Anakin asked, a low hum reverberating from him after you responded with a rapid head nod and an experimental roll of your hips.

“Much better.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, his fingers starting up that slow pace again. His thumb flicking back and forth across your puffy little clit.

“This calculus is real hard huh?” He said.

“Yeah it is.” You mumbled, meaning to sound angry, but it really just sounded like a plea.

“Gimme your hand babydoll.” He softly commands.

You let him take your hand and guide it behind you, helping you wrap your delicate fingers around the rock hard bulge in his pants.

“Daddy…” You moaned as your body responded to the feel of his cock in your hand.

“Do you know what a cock is? What it looks like? What it’s for?” He asked slowly and you giggled, nodding in response to his questions.

“Have you ever touched one?” You vehemently said no absolutely not.

“Well daddy is gonna pull out his cock, and help you settle down on it alright? We’ll go real slow and gentle; you tell me immediately if you want me to stop okay?” He explained while softly gliding his hand through your hair, while continuing his slow exploration of the warm, gummy walls of your cunt.

“Can I see?” You asked timidly.

“Of course doll. You can touch it too if you want.” He said softly, removing his fingers from your tight hole.

He took a minute to admire the creamy slick gathered on his digits before offering you one of his fingers.

“Do you wanna know what you taste like?” His voice dark and almost sinister.

You didn’t answer, just parted your lips and let the tip of your tongue hang out. He smirked and slipped his index finger past your lips and rubbed it on your tongue. Your nose scrunched up for a moment, the taste unfamiliar and strange, but it was easy to get used to.

He chuckled, removing it so that he could properly clean each finger with his lips and tongue. Sucking each digit thoroughly, moaning with his eyes fluttering closed at the first taste.

“So sweet.” He whispered.

“Hop up and turn around for me sweetheart.” He said, pinching your ass cheek playfully, just hard enough to make you yelp.

You did as requested and settled back on his thighs. His face was just as red as yours felt. His pupils dilated beyond belief, his bare chest had a thin sheen of sweat. His plump bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he finally got a good look at you.

He had wanted to wait. To wait until he couldn’t stand it any longer. The teasing was for him just as much as it was for you. The reward of such a long and torturous game was well and wholly worth it. To finally see you like this. Flushed and wanton, needy for his cock.

Those tits. God those fucking tits… he moaned cupping them in his hands again. They were beautiful when he could see them from behind you, looking down at them from over your shoulder. But up close and in his face? Stunning. Absolutely breathtakingly stunning.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispered, entranced temporarily before he snapped out of it and realized this was not one of his sick and twisted dreams.

Oh and how he had dreamed. Night after night, waking up and having to palm his cock roughly just to get enough relief to go back to sleep, only to wake up the next morning and spend half his time in the shower fucking his fist and desperately wishing it were your tight little cunt.

This was real. He had you, completely naked, drooling and sopping wet, putty in his hands.

“Daddy is gonna make you feel so so good after your homework is done.” He smiled, dreamy and spaced out.

“Pull out my cock baby.” He encouraged, taking your wrists in each hand and helping you pull his pants and boxers down his thighs.

Anakin's cock sprang free from his pants, standing erect and proud before your wide eyes. It was thick and veiny, slightly curved upward towards his belly button.

“Ani…” You whimpered worried about what to do, how to properly do this, if you should do this. You wanted to, needed to. But should you?

“What’re you thinking doll?” Anakin asked, his hands on either side of you running his knuckles up and down your tummy soothingly.

“Am I gonna get in trouble?” You whispered.

“What?” He asked, in confusion. “Why would you get in trouble sweetheart?”

“Well, ‘cause of this…” You mumbled.

“Babydoll.” He cooed, his thumb and forefinger pinching your chin and tilting your head back so he could look directly in your eyes. “You won’t be in trouble. I’m your stepfather right?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded.

“So that means I get to help make the rules around here doesn’t it?” He said soothingly, cupping your cheek.

“Yeah.” You nodded, a small smile beginning to form on your lips. You were beginning to see his reasoning and justification clearly.

“So it would be silly for you to get in trouble for something I said was okay wouldn’t it?” He smiled softly.

You giggled, nodding. Happy that he answered your question, amazed as always that he was so easily able to wash away your worries and concerns.

“There’s my little princess.” He cooed, rubbing his nose against yours. “Are you ready now?”

“Yes Ani.” You nodded with a smile, kneeling over his dick.

His large hand grabbing the base, holding his visibly throbbing cock steady as he slowly pushed the head against your tight entrance.

"Just relax, baby doll," He whispered in your ear, his other hand gripping your waist tightly to help guide you down his length. "Just breathe in and out slowly."

Your eyebrows furrowed as you put your arms around his neck and took comfort in the way he took control and made you feel safe even when you were so vulnerable in his arms. You were trusting him with a lot right now, the most intimate and sacred side of yourself.

“Anakin… oh gods.” You gasped in pain as he pushed in farther. He rolled his hips gently, popping your hymen, groaning when he felt that precious little thing snap.

“Shhh it’s okay, I won’t move anymore for now.” He held your hips firmly in place, allowing you to bury your face in his neck in an attempt to steady your breath as he did the same.

Your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock as he shifted, making you wince in dull pain and Anakin grunt in pleasure at the constricting tightness.

"That's a good girl," He praised, his voice hoarse as he forced himself to maintain control. "You're doing great, just relax."

His hands moved down from your hips to squeeze and support your ass cheeks. Leaning in for a kiss, letting out a questioning hum as he ever so slowly started lowering you again. You nodded, letting him know it was okay despite the prickly sensation of tears forming in your eyes.

You focused on his tongue, on his hands, on the racing of his heart beneath your palm.

"Let me know if you need me stop, okay?" He broke the kiss to lovingly ask. “I don’t want to hurt you sweetheart.”

“I will Ani.” You promised, nodded vigorously as he slowly, steadily impaled you on his cock.

“Jesus.” Anakin whined, breathy and strained as he finally bottomed out. Buried to the hilt, feeling comforted in know that you would soon adjust to his size, and he wouldn’t be hurting your poor little weeping pussy anymore.

He hated to see you in pain, and knowing he was the cause was really, really killing him. It was inevitable of course. You were gonna end up speared on his dick sooner or later, and while he was thrilled that it was sooner, he just wishes he could’ve found a way to make it alittle easier on you.

“Be real still, just relax, get used to the feeling doll.” He cooed, soothing hands running up and down your spine.

“Yes Ani.” You whined, thankful for the chance to adjust to feeling so… full.

"Now, let's finish these final problems together, okay?" He said, his voice huskier than usual as he picked up the paper with the remaining equations. “Get your mind off the hurt okay?”

You held the notebook and kept working on one of the equations while Anakin latched on to your nipples and bit down gently.

“Ah!” You yelped, wincing as his bite made you jolt, your cunt squeezing his cock. “Anakin!”

He chuckled kissing your neck and massaging your ass cheeks. “Sorry baby.”

"You know, you're doing really well," he said, his voice full of satisfaction. "I'm impressed with how quickly you've learned it all. This is definitely going to be the way I help you study from now on." Anakin smiled, kissing you softly.

“Almost done.” You whined, scribbling frantically on the page. Trying your best to sit still.

“Baby.” Anakin growled. “Stop wiggling unless you want me to start training you to hold this big fucking cock in your tight little cunt all damn day.”

“Sorry daddy! Didn’t mean too!” You sniffled. “just feels so full, I need to move.” You whimpered, biting your lip.

You were getting impatient with waiting and sick of this stupid math homework and really, really, really impatient for Anakin to help you fuck yourself on his cock.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled, slowly lifting you a little before thrusting up in again.

You sat there, spread out wide on your step daddy’s massive cock. His callous fingers rubbing tight circles on your poor little clit as he fucked you so, so slowly to stop your wriggling and squirming.

“You’re a real good teacher Ani.” You moaned, finishing up the last equation and fighting the urge to moan and cum right then and there just from that tiny bit of relief. “All done.”

Anakin's eyes lit up at your words of praise, his cock twitching inside you in response.

"That's my good girl! So smart." He praised, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in with more strength than before.

His hands gripped your ass firmly and lifted you up and down his cock until you got the hang of the movement. Slowly picking up the pace once you started a low string of moans that Anakin’s hungry mouth swallowed up in a kiss.

“Reach down and play with your clit while you bounce on my cock.” He ordered.

“yes daddy.” You squeaked in response, whining in relief as you started circling your neglected clit.

“That's it, baby girl." Anakin groaned, his hips moving faster as you found your rhythm.

"You're so fucking good at this.” He praised, his head falling back on the couch cushion.

As you got more confident in your movements he started to meet you halfway with his own thrusts, his cock hitting your G-spot relentlessly, you could feel your orgasm building up rapidly. Your moans turned into high-pitched whimpers of pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders that you gripped tightly for balance.

“I knew you’d be good,” He moaned. “your body is made for me, it’s perfect. So fuckin’ perfect.”

“Y-yeah daddy.” You whispered on the verge of orgasm. “M’feeling something.”

“Fuck. Th-that’s right doll, I told you I’d make you feel good didn’t I?” He moaned, his voice dark with possessiveness.

Anakin growled low in his throat, his grip on your asscheeks tightening almost painfully. He bit down hard on your neck, leaving a mark as evidence of your sinful affair.

"You're about to cum. That’s what that feeling is darlin’ don’t fight it, just let go." He panted between erratic thrusts, his breath hot against your throat. “Once I make you cum it means you’re mine and mine only. Do you want that?”

“Yes daddy.” You agreed, slurring your words as your body tensed up. “I wanna be only yours.” You were practically drooling as you came violently around his cock, flooding his lap with your juices.

Anakin groaned loudly, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. The intensity of the fact that he’d given you your first orgasm, that he’d properly and officially earned your virginity, made him feral. His cock twitched and pulsed inside you, releasing wave after wave of hot seed into your tight channel.

“God damn,” he hissed out. “such a good girl, letting me fuck this pretty little pussy full of my cum.”

You whined at his praise, grinding down on his cock when you felt the strange but good sensation of stickiness coat your walls.

"Fuck, baby doll." He panted heavily, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he rode out his own climax. "God you just made me cum s-so fuckin’ hard.”

He stilled his movements and yours to catch his breath, nuzzling your neck and holding you close as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. He pulled back after a moment, looking down at your disheveled state, he grinned widely, licking his lips in satisfaction.

“Did I do good?” You asked with a wobbly lip. Feeling overwhelmed by your senses, overstimulated to the point of tears. “did I make you happy and proud daddy?”

“Oh, you did more than just make me happy and proud, baby girl." Anakin's eyes glittered with something dark, something… a little scary as he gazed down at you.

“You’re gonna make me a fine little baby momma too.” He growled, his hand reaching out to trace gentle circles on your stomach. “Aren’t you?”

Part Two (final part)

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[dearhargrove]

summary A sleepy morning with cuddly Sam.

word count 820

There's few things you're always ready to spend money on. One of them is a funfair. The overall vibe, the attractions, the food and just the nostalgia of being a kid is exactly the reason you loved them so much. So, when you were out a few days ago and saw posters all over town advertising an upcoming funfair you already marked your calendar.

Today is a free day; no case, no research to be done – nothing. And also the day of the funfair. You're a bit embarrassed over just how excited you are, barely able to fall asleep yesterday and now awake at seven in the morning. You desperately try to go back to sleep so as not to disturb Sam, who's deep asleep next to you with his hair spread out around his head like a halo and his left arm snug around you.

But your attempt to keep calm seems to have failed when he groans and squints at you, “Baby?” he slurs half-awake. You wince apologetically and turn onto your side, “Sorry, didn't mean to wake you,” you whisper back.

He mumbles something incorrigible and then yawns heartily, free hand pushing hair out of his face before falling back into his stomach. “'s okay, hun,” he mumbles to stop you from feeling guilty and turns his head, smiling tiredly.

“We should sleep some more, it's barely eight in the morning, Sam..” he just waves his hand in dismissal and heaves himself onto his side, supported on his elbow. You can see the slight redness in his eyes from just waking up but his soft smile distracts you anyway.

“Why are you awake this early, pretty girl?” he lowly muses, letting his other hand rest on your cheek, thumb running under your eye. The pet name paired with the soft actions and the sight of him makes you melt and scoot forward to tangle your legs between his, throwing an arm over his waist.

“I'm excited,” you admit, sheepish as you push the hand on his back under his shirt to warm it up and at the same time give him a back rub. A soft frown of confusion settles on his face – which you immediately soothe away with a thumb smoothing out the wrinkle between his neat brows – and he makes a soft ‘oh’ sound.

“Excited for what? We don't have any plans today?” You can see the flicker of dread on his face as he passes through the possibility of a forgotten date or anniversary, making you snort softly. “We do. I made plans for us.” He raises his brows but doesn't intervene, letting you finish explaining. “There's a funfair in town.. I really want to go there with you and Dean.”

You bite your lip as you await his reaction, not expecting at all when he just snorts and pulls you even closer, pressing a kiss to your head. “That's why you've been in such a good mood?” he chuckles, bemused.

You pout a bit at his humorous reaction, making him lean down to kiss you shortly, “Don't pout. I wasn't mocking you, sweetheart. Of course we'll go with you.”

Grinning, you pull him into another kiss, this time deeper but still rushed from the excitement coursing through you. He chases after your lips when you pull away too early for his liking, simply pushing you down into the mattress with one big hand when you attempt to squirm away.

“We've got plenty of time before we can go.” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping there once before moving down lower to your throat and leaving similar small bites on your soft skin. He's making sure not to mark you up too much, instead pulling the collar of your shirt down to decorate your collarbones and shoulders with actual love bites and hickeys.

Sighing in mock annoyance you slip your hand out of his shirt and into his hair, tugging at the long strands which just makes him grunt in contentment.

You close your eyes again and play with his soft hair while he leaves marks all over you, soothing each new one with a bout of kisses. His arm is tight enough around your waist that you know he intends for you to lay still and take whatever he'll give – which you don't mind in the least.

After a few minutes he stops and lays his head on your chest, tip of his nose a bit cold from the room being chilly as he tucks it against your throat to keep breathing in your perfume and natural scent.

“Back to sleep?” you guess quietly, already pulling the duvet higher around his shoulders and sinking your hand back into those brown locks to scratch at his scalp the way he loves. He grunts in acknowledgement, arm momentarily tightening around you.

“Good idea.”

[seoulmatez]

— 𝓈𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝒹𝒶𝓎 ౨ৎ

nagi seishiro x reader. 936 wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ sick fic ﾉ repost from an old blog :3

you’re not sure how long you’ve been awake, but you can positively say that nagi has been restlessly tossing and turning since you opened your eyes. he’s never this fidgety in his sleep and while you hate the thought of interrupting his eight hours, you set your phone aside and reach out to gently shake his shoulder. “sei, wake up.”

he groans at the contact but rolls over onto his back. now that you can see his face, you’re able to make out strands of snowy white hair sticking to his forehead and the redness of his nose—it looks like he’s sick. “are you feeling okay?” you ask him even though you can already anticipate his answer.

“tired,” he mumbles and his voice comes out a little scratchy.

with a frown, you press a hand to nagi’s forehead and then his neck. he’s warm to the touch. “woah, you definitely have a fever.” his unusual activity made you think he was having a nightmare, which, while not ideal, would have been preferred over an illness. as much as nagi loves lazing around, you’re certain he’d consider all of the side effects that would accompany his time off as a pain.

there isn’t much you can do for him aside from grabbing him a snack and some tylenol that’ll reduce his fever, so in an effort to help him the best you can, you move to retrieve the items. before you make it off the mattress, his clammy fingers wrap around your wrists to stop you from leaving his side. “where are you going?” deep brown irises framed by light lashes innocently peer up at you.

“i’ll be back,” you reassure him with a smile. “i’m just going to get you some medicine.” it takes a moment before he reluctantly releases his hold on you. the uncharacteristic anguished expression nagi wears is the only motivation you need to make this trip a quick one.

you stop in the kitchen first to snag some honey graham crackers from the pantry before making your way to the bathroom. the first aid kit you keep under the sink is fully stocked with pain reliever and you pour a couple of tablets from the small container into the palm of your hand. you rush back into the bedroom and round the bed to nagi’s side. you gently push the box of crackers against his chest, “eat some of these before you take this.” you drop the little white pills into his open hand before turning on your heel to head back to the bathroom.

“come back.” you hear nagi whine from behind you as you rustle around the linen for a clean washcloth. you pull a fluffy white one away from the pile it’s stacked on and stick it under the stream of cool water. once it’s sufficiently wet, you turn the water off and wring out the excess liquid before folding it into a neat rectangle.

nagi’s nibbling at his snack when you flick off the light and return to the room. you join him on the bed, sitting up on your knees to push back the damp hair stuck to his forehead. you smooth the pale strands down before holding the rag against his skin.

“take your medicine yet?” you ask him, caressing his arm with your free hand. he shows you his empty palm in response as he finishes off the little bit of cracker left in his opposite hand.

you’re about to hand off the duty of rag-holding to him when nagi lowers himself against the pillows and nestles into your chest. he’s like a heater next to you and if this were any other time under any other circumstances, you’d lean into his warmth. but since he’s sick and you still have work to get ready for, you stop yourself from doing so.

“hey,” you move your shoulder up and down in an attempt to shake him off, “you know i still have work, right?”

he hums in disagreement, softly shaking his head and wrapping both of his arms around one of yours. you’ve experienced this before—he gets clingy when he’s tired, tries to latch onto you or pin you down so you can’t leave his side. he knows that, for a short moment, you consider casting your responsibilities aside and staying with him. and you’re usually able to untangle yourself from his hold, but today he’s weakened your resolve.

“seishiro…” you try again, pulling your arm closer to your body, but the man only follows you.

“need you here,” nagi murmurs against your collarbone. you aren’t sure if you should attribute the chills running down your spine to his declaration or the way the warmth of his breath tickles you. what little willpower you had left completely crumbles with his words and you let out a defeated sigh. how can you leave him all alone after that?

letting the cloth rest against his forehead on its own, you run your fingers through nagi’s silky hair. the comforting gesture is enough to make his eyelids drift shut. you can hear the thick drowsiness in his voice when he asks, “you’re not gonna sneak off if i go to sleep, are you?”

you breathe out a laugh at his question. it wouldn’t be an easy task given his grip on you, but you don’t plan on straying from his side anyway—even if that does mean missing a day of work. his sick day is your sick day.

“i won’t leave you,” you tell him, your nails gently grazing his scalp.

he yawns, snuggling deeper into you. “good.”

thanks for reading! if u enjoyed, please consider reblogging or commenting ❤︎

[saladscream]

Merlin’s throat is distracting.

Arthur is not sure when that came to be. The realisation crept up on him stealthily, until one day he became aware that he’d been staring at the pale column of his manservant’s neck for close to a full minute.

His only excuse for the disconcerting fascination is that… It’s a nice column. Smooth. Solid. A grain of skin as fine as alabaster. It is rather shocking that a commoner should parade around with such a flawless bodily feature, but by now Arthur is resigned to Merlin eluding the rules of propriety and class conventions. By all rights, Merlin should have a peasant’s neck – sinewy, weathered, pimpled, with creases of age-old encrusted filth. Not a Roman statue’s milky throat and perfect collarbones.

Because, yes, Merlin’s collarbones are works of bloody art too. And for everyone’s peace of mind, Arthur would rather not dwell on said offending clavicles, for gazing too long at them makes his tongue long for truly disturbing acts.

So Merlin’s throat is without blemish and Arthur believes the damn neckerchief is responsible for this hideous state of affairs. It wraps around Merlin’s neck like a loving, clingy embrace and protects it from the elements as much as from covetous looks. Arthur doubts the scrap of material is a vanity on Merlin’s part. He reckons that it rather serves a grimly mundane purpose, such as always having a convenient rag on hand to mop up spills or garrot a bleeding limb. But the fact remains that it acts as a virtuous shield against the less-than-virtuous designs of the beholder.

Arthur doesn’t know whether he loves or loathes the infuriatingly familiar piece of fabric. He sometimes wonders if Merlin is aware that his neckerchiefs were all cut from a couple of Arthur’s old cloaks.

Today, some spiteful deity somewhere must be upset with Arthur because the neckerchief is not there to serve its chaste and merciful function, leaving Merlin’s throat indecently exposed. And to make matters worse, there’s a small streak of soot or charcoal down the side of Merlin’s usually immaculate neck. The little black smudge is neat and innocent in its own way, but it stares Arthur boldly in the face – enticing him, daring him.

It would be so easy for Arthur to take it upon himself to lick his thumb and make the impertinent little mark go away. But that way lies madness. And indignity. And too much explaining. So Arthur closes his hand over his thumb and waits for the urge to pass.

Of course, it doesn't.

The wicked smudge is playing coy but challenges him nonetheless.

In desperation, Arthur catches Merlin’s gaze and nods at him, doing some elaborate finger wiggling to indicate on his own neck where the offending smudge stands, hoping the prat will get his meaning.

Of course, he doesn’t.

Instead, the ever-helpful Merlin comes to inspect Arthur’s neck, leaning closely into his space, squinting and mumbling an asinine ‘I can’t see anything’.

And that, gentle reader, is exactly why they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Arthur is now forced into sinful proximity with not only with the elegant throat and the lick-worthy collarbones, but also a remarkable shock of dark hair.

A Merlin-scented shock of dark hair.

@miyriu @neptunesyellowsands

Merlin's eyes

Merlin's lips

Merlin's hands

[megamindsecretlair]

Ur MM fic was soooo good!!! Pls write more of him I beg😭🫶🏾

A/N: no need to beg, you know I got you anon! Make sure to show some love to @planetblaque and @soft-persephone for their MM fics!

Leaving Me Sleepless

Pairing: Neighbor!Mother's Milk x Neighbor!Black!Fem!reader/plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ only. MINORS DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Age gap, more so late 20s/early 30s, but can be read however. Dom Mother's Milk, Cursing, PIV, SMUT, FLUFF, fingering (fem receiving), oral (male and female receiving), D/s elements, Sorry if I missed others. Season 1 MM, no spoilers for the show. Divorced MM. Brat reader. Corruption kink if you squint. Possession Kink. Size kink.

Summary: You were ready to start a new chapter of your life, moving into your first house all by your lonesome. Done with waiting on others to get their lives together, you were finally pursuing the life you wanted. You had everything planned, until you didn’t. 

Marvin comes to your rescue, turning a stressful day into something sweet and full of laughs. An easy friendship builds between you. Only you can’t wait any longer to see if this is one sided. You decide to start toying with Marvin, just to see how long it would take him to break.

AO3 Link

Word count: 10,515k

A/N: I don't know what it is about this man. But enjoy my brainrot! Love him dowwwnnn. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, reblog, or unhinged ask.

It wasn’t your intention to toy with your hot neighbor, Marvin. When you moved in, you were prepared to do it all yourself. You got a moving company to help you pack up your shit from your ex-boyfriend’s house. You successfully transferred your utilities to your new place, leaving that broke motherfucker with no power for a weekend. You were on top of it. 

Okay, so not everything was so smooth. You got a flat tire on the freeway, the moving van wrote down your address wrong, and when you arrived at your new place, no moving truck to be found, you had a breakdown about it. To be fair, it was a hard and emotional day. This was the first time you bought a house, did it by yourself, and you were nervous as hell.

Your family wasn’t the most supportive. They kept asking you if you were sure you were ready and what were you going to do with that big house to yourself? As if finally having some alone time and gaining safety for the first time in your life was a bad thing. So not having the moving truck at your new place was like an ill omen. 

You started to doubt yourself. What would you do with a house to yourself? You were responsible for everything now. It was on you to take the trash out, keep up with the lawn and maintenance, cook meals, wash your sheets. The pressure of your decision crushed you to pieces until the dam broke and the tears were falling like crazy.

You hadn’t called the moving truck just yet. You needed time to break down before you pulled yourself together. You were a strong, independent woman and you were going to be okay. Like you always were. 

Marvin was just getting home from wherever he spent his time and saw you in front of your new place, standing on the curb and trying hard to hide your crying. You only had a few bags in your car, essential things you knew you didn’t trust with the movers. Smart thinking, but it wasn’t a bed. It wasn’t cookware. It wasn’t anything you needed to have a successful first day in your new place. The sun was losing its heat, traveling across the sky like the moon was on its heels. 

Marvin called out to you, walking up like he would single-handedly solve all of your problems. He wore a white T-shirt with the Wu Tang symbol on it. Medium wash jeans and white sneakers. He wore a gold chain as well, complimenting the golden hue of his skin. 

He also had a thick beard on his beautiful face. Neat and well-trimmed. But his eyes were the kindest you’d ever seen. In just a few minutes, it’d be easy to fall into the brown depths and never come up for air. 

You swiped at your eyes and smiled at him. “I’m okay, I’m fine!” You said, waving him off. Why was it that fine ass men always popped out when you looked like hell? You were currently wearing raggedy blue sweats with mysterious stains all over, some from bleach, paint, or whatever other dirty job needed done. Your lavender shirt had seen better days, the graphic on it cracked and nearly faded away. Your tennis shoes were peeling in one corner, but these were your most comfortable and didn’t want to give them up.

And ugh, your hair. You looked tore up from the floor up and you did not need your neighbor meeting you like this. Why couldn’t he catch you on your way out to the club or out to eat with your friends? You had a new, gorgeous leopard print dress in your moving van, with sexy three hoop gold earrings that were calling your name. Fuck me heels that made your ass look amazing. Why couldn’t he meet you then?

“Is everything alright? Are you sure?” He asked. 

God, that voice. You smiled and nodded, clutching your phone for dear life. He needed to move away, now. You wish the neighbors were out when you were scoping the house. If you knew he looked like that, you would have never shown up like this. The embarrassment was killing you. 

“I’m okay, Mr…?” You asked.

He smiled. “Call me Marvin, please,” he said. 

You introduced yourself. Sexy name matching a sexy man. He was so damn broad and thick. Just how you liked ‘em. But no, no, you promised yourself to focus on you right now. On getting this house set up exactly how you liked it. You weren’t going to have a traditional housewarming party. You weren’t going to invite all that negative energy into your new place. This new period in your life was about you, getting your mental stronger, your life together. Focus on your goals and finally getting started on your lifelong dreams. Nowhere in that plan you dreamt up with your best friend did it include a man. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can help with?” He asked. He sounded and looked so sincere, that your shoulders slumped and you sighed, looking down the street like it would magically conjure the moving truck. 

“It’s silly,” you said and rolled your eyes, waving away his concern. 

Marvin smiled and tilted his head. “Try me. You’d be doing me a favor actually. I only had plans to go inside, grab a beer, and pig out. You’d be saving me from getting fat and lazy,” he said, patting his stomach. That smile.

You couldn’t help but giggle, checking him out. And letting him know that you were checking him out. “There’s no chance in hell you’d end up fat and lazy,” you told him. He chuckled and rubbed his beard, his thumb swiping at the corner of his mouth. 

“You never know. These things add up. And you’re changing the subject,” he said. 

You sighed and suppressed a smile. Fine. Fine. You broke down and told him the whole ordeal. That you were moving in and waiting for your truck. Marvin cursed softly, excusing his words, and asked for the number to the movers. 

He used his own phone to call them, getting in their asses about taking advantage of you. They knew exactly where your house was and if they weren’t here in thirty minutes, giving you a steep discount for their actions, then he’d report they ass on their website, on social media, and anyone else who’d listen. 

Your mouth dropped listening to him. He was in complete control, not taking an ounce of slack from the movers. All of your interactions with them had been cordial, but there were enough times where you thought you were on them too much. You were trying to escape your ex’s house before he came home. You felt like a screaming harpy, telling them to move their ass. 

A little bass from a man and suddenly they could hop to. Fucking pigs. When Marvin was done, he smiled. “There, they’ll haul ass now. I’m sorry they did that to you,” he said.

You waved him off. “No way, you’re my hero. I would’ve been arguing for an hour to get them to show up with enough daylight to put things where I need,” you said. The relief you felt was almost indescribable. All thanks to a friendly neighbor. With no wedding ring, you might’ve observed.

“You wanna come inside and wait? I mostly have beer, but maybe some juice? Water?” He asked.

You bit your lip, feeling awkward and gross but he was just so helpful. You didn’t want to give that up just yet. “Are you sure I wouldn’t be a bother?” You asked.

“I promise,” he said. 

You nodded. Well, fuck it. You followed him to his place, stepping inside his place hoping for the best. You were blown away actually. His place smelled amazing, light like lemon and something breezy or tropical. 

The place was spotless, not a cushion out of place. His living room was nice and spacious, with a thick rug underneath the couch and coffee table. You sat down while Marvin went to grab you some water. 

Marvin asked you questions about yourself and you asked him questions about him. You found out he was divorced, amicably, and they shared a beautiful daughter together. He worked with inner city youth at a detention center, keeping knuckleheads from making dumb ass mistakes. 

The more he talked, the more you started to see a clearer picture of him. He paid extra care to cleanliness letting you know that he’d never, ever tolerate being in your place. You weren’t a slob, but you weren’t Johnny on the spot either. Sometimes dishes piled up or you lounged in bed all day. You could already see and hear the arguments, the disgusted looks, the pot shots. 

You subtly sighed. Too bad. He’d make someone a fine ass husband one day. While you talked, the moving van showed up in record time. You tried saying bye to Marvin, but he insisted on staying to make sure the movers didn’t try to get over on you again.

Thanks to Marvin, the movers moved the heavy shit where it needed to go and brought your boxes to the rooms they were assigned to. You had more than enough time to unpack what you needed tonight, clean out the bathtub and kitchen, so that you could bathe in your new place and cook in your new place. 

You offered to cook something for Marvin, but he excused himself, saying he took up enough of your time. He hoped you had a good night and now that you were neighbors, he told you not to be a stranger. He was like a buff fairy godmother and you couldn’t stop thanking him as he left.

“No thanks, necessary. I’m just glad I was around. Did you get a chance to change the locks yet?” He asked.

You shook your head. You hadn’t even thought to do so. “If you buy some new locks, I can install them for you. Get some with a longer latch,” he said.

You stared at him blankly with an adorable smile on your face. “And that means…?” You asked. 

Marvin chuckled. “If you like, I’m free tomorrow and we can go to the store. Get some things to make sure you’re safe in here,” he said. He stood in the doorway, framed by a darkening sky. The white shirt glowed against his skin. He looked like an angel. Or maybe that was just your thinking because of how incredible he was. 

“I’ve taken up enough of your weekend,” you said, looking down and playing with invisible lint by the door. 

Marvin waited until you looked back at him to smile. “You can’t be a bother if I volunteer. Here, take my number, and if you need anything, just call or text. No matter the day or time,” he said. 

You took his number and gave him yours, giggling to yourself. “You don’t like me being here all by my lonesome, do you?” You asked.

He chuckled and nodded. “I know, I sound like an old-fashioned old man. You can absolutely take care of yourself. But I’m around, okay?” He asked.

You nodded, thanked him again, and finally let him leave your stoop. You closed and locked the door behind you, leaning back against it, and squealed to yourself. He was an impossible dream. An angel. A hero. Your savior. You’d still be outside crying your eyes out while the movers hemmed and hawed about your most precious possessions. 

You daydreamed for a few minutes, letting the crush finally take over. There may never be a future, but he was sweet. And fun. And so caring it hurt. 

You threw on some tunes and started dancing around your space, getting the essentials cleaned up that day. You started in the bathroom, the one place you refused to let get dirty. First, because it grossed you out and second, because you liked taking relaxing baths with candles and music. 

And so on it went. Marvin did take you to the hardware store the next day, being patient with you and explaining why you needed this or that. Some of the items you genuinely did know about, but he was so adorable explaining things to you. He was patient, never acted put out, and never made you feel dumb for asking so many questions.

Perhaps it was then that it all started. Acting ditzy whenever he came around. Not enough to be obvious. But just so helpless unless he swooped to the rescue. And you always thanked him by calling him your hero, heaping praises on him, and making sure to grip his thick biceps and looking into his eyes as you expressed your gratitude.

As the weeks and months passed, you fell into an easy friendship with him. Your work hours aligned with his, sometimes arriving home at the exact same moment. Intending to just catch up for a few minutes, there were times you almost got sick standing outside in the cold air with him talking. 

If he “happened” to make extra food, he made sure to bring it over and he promised that you were doing him the favor. If you “happened” to make extra food, you returned the sweet gesture, passing the same dishware back and forth. 

You always texted first to make sure he didn’t have company. One day, he laughed riotously and told you that he wasn’t seeing anyone. And his friends weren’t the “come over and hang out” type. 

“And you talk about me being in a house all by myself,” you scolded him playfully, and made sure to drop by just because. You told yourself that you were just being harmless, just making sure to repay him for being so sweet to you as a neighbor. 

You weren’t sure when the teasing started. Whenever you talked to Marvin, it seemed like you were having a different conversation with your bodies. He made you warm all over. His presence and his smell already drew you in. But his protective nature and sense of humor made sure you were downright smitten.

You touched his arm or hand whenever you could. He’d find ways to step closer, or place his hand on the small of your back as he moved around you in the kitchen. Whenever you’d join him on the couch watching sports, you began to sit closer and closer together, thighs pressed together, and bumping shoulders. 

But he never picked up on your hints. You weren’t even sure what kind of hints you were throwing out there so you couldn’t entirely blame him. You had a feeling that he just wouldn’t accept your place. It was why you were usually at his place and not the other way around. Did you want him to kiss you? Grab you? Snatch you up? 

There were plenty of times you daydreamed about having your wicked way with him. What he’d look like when he let himself loose and grabbed you like he didn’t want to let go. Maybe he wouldn’t be into someone younger? 

There were quite a few years separating you, but hell. The dating pool was ass nowadays. These men acted like they had no home training. Like they thought the best jewelry, cars, and clothes were enough to snare a woman but their dick game was just as terrible. A bunch of pretty packaging on trash.

Marvin looked like he’d fuck well. He moved precisely, taking care to make himself as un-intimidating as possible, as welcoming as possible. Sometimes you stared outside of your window when he got home from the gym. His dick bounced in his gray sweatpants, letting you know that he had more than enough equipment. But you were confused, lost, wondering if you just liked him because he made you feel safe when no other guy ever did. Not even your own dad.

Yeah, yeah, daddy issues. Whatever. You made sure to back away from Marvin when things sort of took a turn. You weren’t sure what was wrong with you. So it was best to back away and stop sending so many mixed signals. Besides asking Marvin to fix little things around your place. You made sure to clean up first.

One night, however, you were restless. Sleepless. You had opened your blinds in your bedroom, opening the windows as well to let in some cool air. You were unbearably horny. The porn and smut books weren’t cutting it. You threw on some sexy music, grabbed your favorite drink, and danced around your place in your panties and nothing else. Why not? You’d never done such a thing at your previous addresses, never feeling safe to do so. 

You were feeling mighty good, teasing yourself, letting the anticipation build up before you broke out your Black Noir dildo, when you turned around. Marvin had entered his own bedroom. All this time, you didn’t know your bedrooms faced each other. 

He had turned on his light, moving around his room. And the pervert in you watched. And stared. He took off the black shirt he had on, moving on to his pants. You looked away before you became too big of a pervert. But…it did give you a naughty idea. You dimmed the lights a little lower and continued dancing around your place, keeping your back turned to his window.

It may not work…but…you felt sexier. More alive. More naughty. Whether or not he actually saw something, it was enough to make you want to unplug your dildo and go to town right then and there. To imagine Marvin kissing all up and down your body, worshiping you. To get a sneak peak at the dick in his pants. You just knew he knew what to do with it. Felt it all over. 

You were lost in your daydream, you turned around to grab your drink. You looked across the way at Marvin who seemed to be spazzing out. He was windmilling, stepping backwards, and you giggled as you pretended not to notice. 

Interactions after that were…interesting. Marvin couldn’t look you in the eye after that. You’d ask and poke and prod, and he’d laugh it off, giving you some excuse about not being able to sleep. You pouted and continued to rely on him for little things. The sink wasn’t working? Call Marvin. Door was stuck? Call Marvin. 

Every time, you walked him to the door asking if there was anything you could help him with and he’d only tell you he was happy to help, bid you goodnight, and then entered his house. The little minx in you couldn’t let it go. Had to see how far you could push him and what he’d do if he snapped.

You were thoroughly in love with your sweet neighbor and you wanted to torture him right out of his pants. Your bed was against the wall, opposite the door, so your windows were on the left. From what you could puzzle out, Marvin’s bed was similar. So if you happened to lay on the bed and pleasure yourself, there would be no mistaking what you were doing. 

So you did just that. The first time, you were nervous as hell. You waited till you texted Marvin good night, that you were going to turn in early. He bid you goodnight and then you waited. Waited for him to enter his room and move around the space. All you saw was a dark shadow, but you knew that he was up here for you. Or you wished for that to be true in either case.

You had your own lights dark enough to not see anything, but dim enough to not mistake it for anything else. And you pleasured yourself with your vibrator, imagining that Marvin could see everything and was wishing it was him. You pictured him sitting in the window, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants, trying to resist touching himself. But the urge was too strong. Dick straining against his pants. So he’d take it out just to hold it. Just to relieve some of the ache. 

But then he’d see your legs moving, your hands going in and out, rubbing across your titties, and he’d know. And he’d groan. That sexy, deep, needy rumbling like he just couldn’t help himself. He’d start slowly, just absently touching himself. Stroking himself to the image of you pleasuring yourself and knowing that he could do it better. 

“Oh god, oh god,” you whined in the empty room, soft R&B music and the low vibrator the only sounds in the room. You wished it was his heavy breathing. His moaning in your ear. Was he a moaner? Did he moan while he was deep in it? 

Your clit throbbed so you pulled the Black Noir dildo out of you and rubbed it against your clit. You moaned, breathing heavier. You pictured Marvin holding it there, torturing you. Just because he was sweet didn’t mean he couldn’t be mean sometimes, right? 

The vibrations against your clit was torture and you held it there. Your hands weren’t yours anymore. They were guided by a phantom Marvin. For all you knew, he could be fast asleep at the moment. But to you, he was right in the room with you. He was holding the dildo against your clit and commanding you to hold it. 

A dildo didn’t faze him. He knew women needed something extra to take them there. He was not intimidated by a vibrating toy when he knew his dick was everything you’d ever need. “Please,” you moaned, unable to help yourself.

Your belly twisted, clit throbbing painfully. Your thoughts were completely focused on phantom Marvin, picturing his shirt off, his powerful thighs exposed. You were no better than a man in the 18th century. A little bit of ankle and you were feral for Marvin. Overcome with thoughts of him. 

You were about to cum so you plunged the black dildo into your sopping wet pussy and dialed up the vibrator. You screamed as you came, possibly calling out his name? You weren’t sure what you were saying as you had the most powerful orgasm of your life, back bowing off of the bed, legs shaking. 

When you were done, you blinked into your dark room, staring up at the ceiling. Fuck. That was intense. And wrong. And so right, it hurt. You could learn to pick up after yourself some more, couldn’t you? Because if your fantasy was even a fraction of the real thing, you needed to fuck Marvin Milk. 

Obviously, you had to consult the Council. Your circle of close friends that you trusted to tell you the truth. To see if you were tripping or if you should pursue this thing with Marvin. 

“Girl, hell no!” Your friend, Story, exclaimed on the phone. You were currently on the phone with the Council, pleading your case. 

“If his game is anything like the pics you sent, I’m honestly surprised you not knocking boots already,” your other friend, Yalonda, said. 

“To be fair, she wanted to spend this time focused on her, not a man,” her last friend, Jayne, said.

“Right, thank you!” You said. You were currently making spaghetti, stirring the noodles and trying to gauge if they were done or not. You wanted to stop tossing noodles against the wall, but hell, how else were you supposed to tell? 

“And who said focusing on Marvin is not focusing on herself? Part of self-discovery is exploration. Need I bring up Voldemort?” Yalonda asked, earning a circle of disgusted groans.

“Chile, that man dead as far as I’m concerned,” Story said.

“Raggedy bitch,” Jayne chimed in.

You chuckled, loving your friends more and more. “I don’t think I can play with this man like that, ya’ll. He sensitive,” you said. 

There was a chorus of teeth smacking and grumbles. “But is he not grown? Like if you laid it out, would he not understand?” Story asked. 

You sighed. Would he? You’d known him plenty of months, but you hadn’t gone deeper into either of your pasts. Because he was just a neighbor, really. But a neighbor you had so much in common with. You genuinely liked spending time with him. You loved his sense of humor, loved that he was so giving. You were a homebody, preferring to be in your own space and alone, rather than snuggled up underneath someone else. You got the sense that Marvin was the same. Preferring to keep his own company.

“You know how men get in they feelings when women treat them like bitches. Like shit, we took a page out of your book, playa! We trynna get like you and now it’s a problem,” Yalonda said.

“Preach! Speak on it!” Jayne said. 

You giggled. “No one’s saying I got to marry the man. But I don’t think it’d be as casual as I’m picturing,” you said. 

“There ain’t a casual bone in your body, honey. And that’s okay! You can still focus on yourself while getting dicked down,” Jayne said. 

“But if Marvin come around talkin’ ‘bout he wants a relationship, now is she wrong or is he?” Story asked, taking the words right out of her mouth. 

On and on it went. The decision was always left up to you, but still. You valued their input and it helped you realize that you cared about Marvin. Cared about how he took care of you. You didn’t have to blow this out of proportion. You could start light. There was a possibility that Marvin would be just fine with a casual affair. He had a life, you had a life, you were both adults. 

“So what you gonna do?” Story asked. The line buzzed with bated breath from your friends. You stirred the meat, adding a teensy bit more oregano, when you sighed.

“I’m gon’ fuck that old man,” you said.

You pulled the phone away from your ear as the girls squealed, gassing you up. Reminding you that you were hot as hell and it was your divine right to fuck that old man. You giggled, now needing their help. You knew how to get guys interested, but with an older man like Marvin, you didn’t know what it would take. It was your first experience taking an older man seriously. 

Would your usual tricks work? No. With the Council’s help, you figured that you’d have to go through with torturing him out of his pants. 

You started the torture by ditching your comfortable, “let’s be friends” outfits and traded them for “Whoops, a little too tight” clothing. Lots of shorts. Lots of tank tops. Your first act was to make sure that you were outside, watering your grass, wearing short shorts and flip flops, bending over unnecessarily, waiting for Marvin.

Marvin arrived home just in time and got out of his car, his lips pressed together in disapproval. “Hey!” He called out. 

You waved to him, your shirt lifting and giving him a peek at your body. He walked up his driveway, stopping to look over at you. There was a short concrete wall separating your properties, no taller than your ankles. You sauntered over, and grinned at him, taking your hand off the trigger.

The nozzle dripped with water and you collected the drops, rubbing it into your neck and chest. “Whew! It was hot as hell today, huh? Did you make sure to stay hydrated?” You asked.

Marvin swallowed and his eyes seemed unfocused, looking down somewhere on your body. You wish you knew where. Was he an ass man? A breasts man? You needed something more from him to guide you in the right direction. 

“I should be asking you that,” he said, a smile crossing his face. 

You waved him off. “You’re too sweet to me, Marvin,” you said. 

He chuckled. “I promise I’m not,” he said. 

You engaged him in more innocent conversation, telling him about your job, and he told you about his day. You reached out and squeezed his hand. “You’re so cool for what you do, Marvin. It takes a strong man to see what you do and still show up for those kids,” you told him.

He had the most adorable look on his face. You wondered if people praised him enough. Thanked him enough for everything that he did. You let him go and grinned. “Anywho, I should let you get inside and rest,” you told him.

He looked like he wanted to tell you something, so you looked at him and tilted your head. “Have a restful evening,” he said, nodded to you, and then turned around.

You bit your lip, watching him walk away, wondering if you didn’t have to torture him that long before he caved. He looked like he was torturing himself enough. Your core heated up, picturing him being just as smitten with you. Just as in lust. If he was rubbing himself raw in the shower to images of you in his mind. 

You turned around and finished watering your lawn, heading back inside for the next phase of your torture. 

You spent the week being mysteriously busy. Marvin had slowed inviting you over so you used that time to make yourself as unavailable as possible. A little toxic, but you got yourself dressed up and took yourself out as if you were going on dates. You managed to leave sometimes, just as Marvin was arriving home. Sometimes you’d wave, sometimes you pretended not to see him.

Friday night, you waited to leave in that leopard print dress you had, fuck me heels making your ass look fantastic. You heard his car pull up, saw the lights move across your living room. You waited a beat, then exited your home.

“Hey!” Marvin called. You pretended not to hear. You tapped away on your phone, giggling and smiling at nothing, as you made your way to your car, pulling up your strapless dress. 

Marvin’s shoes crunched on your grass as he crossed your lawn, calling your name with a little more bass in his voice. You turned to him, a sweet smile on your face, and you watched him approach. 

“Got another date?” He asked. 

You bit your cheek to keep from smiling. “Marvin! You’re so sweet to worry! Yes, I’m going on another date. Do I look good?” You asked. You twirled, taking your time to show him every possible angle. 

“Dressed like that?” He asked. 

“You don’t like it?” You asked. You pouted, playing with your matching clutch bag. 

“Whoa, hey, you look amazing. I just…” he trailed off, looking at your outfit. You let him, smiling to yourself, but then cleared your throat.

“You just…?” You prompted.

“I don’t want to overstep my bounds. I just hope these men are nice to you,” he said.

You giggled. “I’m not,” you said and continued to giggle. At Marvin’s confused face, you stopped and shrugged. “Obviously, I would like a nice man. But the dating scene sucks. You should be lucky you swore it off. These people out here are animals. And I appreciate you looking out for me. But a girl’s got needs, you know?” 

“Needs?” He asked.

You nodded. “Oh yeah. All this hard work getting my place together. All the bullshit at work. I need to take the edge off too, you know,” you said. 

“So the…” he started but then stopped. 

“The what?” You asked, blinking innocently at him. 

Marvin shook his head, rubbed his beard. “I’m overstepping, I’m sorry,” he said. He smiled. “Have a great night. Let me know when you get home safe and sound, okay?” He reached out and rubbed your elbow. 

You deflated against your car, watching him walk away. What the hell was it going to take? You got into your car with a huff, all dressed up with no real destination in mind. Fuck it. You called the Council and decided to go clubbing. If you weren’t really going to fuck someone tonight, you can at least show off your outfit. Because you looked fucking amazing. 

You spent the night putting Marvin from your mind. You danced, you flirted your way to free drinks, you babysat Yalonda, poor thing never able to keep up with ya’ll. When you made it home, all the lights were off in Marvin’s place. You threw him a middle finger as you let yourself into your place, wondering if all this effort was even worth it. If Marvin even wanted to have sex with you. 

You spent the weekend in your feelings, moping around your place. You didn’t know what it would take to get Marvin into your pants. What were you missing? Why was he not interested? 

After spending Saturday moping, you finally decided to wash the grime of the day from you. You went to turn your shower on, but nothing came out. The pipes groaned, a strange knocking sound, but no water. You huffed, checking for possible culprits. Your sinks still worked, but not your shower.

You groaned, cursing the shower head from here to kingdom come. You didn’t want to call Marvin for this. You wondered if Story or Jayne would let you borrow one of their men to come fix it. You went to your room in search of your phone, when you remembered that it was Story’s anniversary and Jayne’s husband was sweet but useless as hell when it came to handy work. 

You stomped your foot, pouting, giving in to the temper tantrum coursing through your body. Your pride didn’t want to let you call Marvin for something so stupid. If he wasn’t interested in you, why didn’t he just say that? Why didn’t he shut your ass down? Why did he allow you to develop this stupid crush on him? 

You really wanted a shower. You didn’t do anything all day, but you couldn’t relax without a bath. It was the one first-world problem you didn’t want to have. You liked ready and easy access to hot water. And now you didn’t have it. And it was probably too late at night to call anyone else.

You stomped your foot again, walking into your living room and taking a peek behind your blinds. Marvin was watching TV in his living room like an old man. You smiled, despite yourself. There was nothing sexier than a man who was comfortable in his skin and in his own company. 

You sucked your teeth and finally dialed his number. You were in booty shorts and an oversized T-shirt. Not completely sexy, but not bad either. You held the phone to your ear while you scurried to your bedroom.

You may not be powerful enough to torture him out of his pants, but maybe direct seduction would work. You thought over every conversation you had with Marvin, every little self-deprecating joke he uttered, and wondered if he thought you wouldn’t be interested in him? 

If he thought he was too old, too old-fashioned, or “overstepping his bounds”. Who the fuck even said something like that? Men who thought no one was interested in them. Poor baby. This was your last chance. If being direct didn’t help, then he was either gay or still hung up on his ex-wife or simply didn’t want you. 

The phone rang a few times in your ear before Marvin’s rough voice picked up. “Hey, what’s going on?” 

“I’m sorry to bug,” you started and Marvin chuckled. 

“Didn’t I say you never bug?” He asked. 

“Yes, but…”

“No buts. What do you need?” He asked.

Was he aware of how hot he was? Did none of the women in his life give him a fucking clue? Four little words out of his mouth, in his sinful deep voice, was enough to make you moan. Was he that blind? 

You sucked your teeth and groaned. “My shower isn’t working. And feel free to say no! It’s just…” You paused to look through your lingerie. You didn’t want anything too revealing, like this was all a set up. But you wanted something that showed you meant business. None of what you owned fit the bill. You were used to younger guys. You wanted to get in, run their hands over your teddies or panties, and then get down to fucking. No foreplay. No talking. 

“Just what?” Marvin asked. Was it your imagination or did his voice get rougher? 

“It’s just, I get a little crazy about my showers. It relaxes me. Calms me down. I can’t live without taking a nice, long, hot, relaxing bath or shower,” you said. You shimmied out of your shorts and went to remove your oversized Tupac shirt when it dawned on you…you didn’t need anything fancy with Marvin. The point of direct seduction was to be direct. 

Marvin chuckled softly. “Say no more, sweetheart. I’ll be right over with my tools,” he said. You said goodbye, but your pussy throbbed with his endearing words to you. He’d never called you such a thing before. You stood in your bedroom, momentarily dazed. You wanted to be his sweetheart. So damn badly you could taste it. 

The doorbell rang, pulling you from your thoughts. Shit. Shit. You picked up your shorts off of the floor and threw them in the laundry basket, along with the clothes from the famous chair. You pushed it into your closet and then hurriedly walked to the front door, eyeing your surroundings.

Not the best, but luckily, you hadn’t left too much chaos in your wake getting ready this past week or moping today. You opened the door, grinning at Marvin. His eyes dropped to your legs for a moment before he looked back at you, smiling. 

You opened the door further, waving him inside. He stepped in, head on a swivel. You wondered if he had a military background. Safe inside, you closed and locked the door. “Thank you for coming over. You sure you weren’t busy?” You asked.

Marvin shook his head. “I’m an old man. All I do is my job and go home. I must seem pretty boring, huh?” He asked.

You shook your head. Feeling nervous all of a sudden. You’ve seduced men before. It was a thrill every time. But this felt different with Marvin. Felt different because he meant more to you than any of those other flings. You wanted to please him. It shouldn’t be a radical concept but it was. 

“You are the opposite of boring, Marvin. In fact, I think you’re pretty special,” you said.

Marvin laughed and shrugged his shoulders, walking deeper into your home. The kitchen was just in front and you prayed that he wasn’t looking at your dirty dishes. It wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to make you cringe. 

“I’m surprised you’re home on a Saturday night. Why aren’t you out on a date?” He asked.

You didn’t answer, forcing him to turn around to you. You were still leaning against the door, your head tilted towards him. “I haven’t found what I wanted,” you said. 

No games. No tricks. No attitude. You walked towards Marvin, okay sauntered, and when you got within his personal space, you looked at him. You locked eyes as you grabbed the toolbox out of his hands. You placed it on the nearest end table, taking his hands and leading him to the back of the couch. 

“What do you want?” He asked, eyebrow lifted, a scowl on his face. Did he really not have a clue? No idea of what you were feeling? This whole time, you thought you were a neon sign. Professing how much you wanted to fuck him. How badly you wanted to be wrapped in his arms. Underneath him. Welcoming him into your body. 

He wore another music shirt, N.W.A splattered across his chest. Gold chain gleaming in your warm lighting. Dark sweats. Dark shoes. He looked good enough to lick on. What a great idea, actually. 

“You. I want you,” you said. You stared into his eyes, sinking slowly to your knees. 

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He asked. He tried to bend down, hands flying to your arms to lift you. You resisted, hands moving to his pants. 

“I’m telling you that I’m crazy about you and that I found a great way to thank you,” you said.

“Thank me?” 

“Yup. Thank you for welcoming me to the neighborhood, being sweet to me on my worst day, and becoming the best thing about my day, talking to you,” you said. 

Marvin relaxed against the back of your couch. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said.

“I know. I want to. Please, Marvin? You’d be doing me a favor,” you said. 

Marvin rested his hands on the back of the couch, so you began to tug his pants down. He wore nothing underneath, his thick dick bobbing up and down once freed. He was huge and growing by the second, as he stood at attention. 

“What kind of favor?” He asked. He sounded less unsure and more amused. So you leaned forward and kissed the tip of his dick. 

“I cannot scratch this really particular itch I have. I’ve tried ignoring it, I’ve tried pleasing myself. And nothing worked. Not even picturing you using my vibrator on me,” you pouted, licking his tip. 

“Don’t tell me that,” Marvin groaned. 

“Don’t tell you what? That I masterbate? Or I do it with your name on my lips?” You asked.

Marvin groaned and tapped the back of your couch. “I didn’t think you’d want this from me. That dress the other day made me want to drag you back inside the house,” he said.

You chuckled, pussy clenching at his confession. So he did like you! Really liked you! 

You gripped his dick, moving your hands softly up and down since he wasn’t properly lubed up yet. He groaned, looking down at you. 

“I wanted you to,” you said. 

Marvin chuckled. “I’ve wanted you since I saw you crying outside your house. I wanted to do anything to make you smile,” he said.

You sighed and rested your forehead against his thigh. “Don’t tell me that. Don’t be cute right now,” you said. 

Marvin laughed again and his dick bounced. You looked up at him. “I’ve pictured you on your knees too. Felt like a pervert, stroking to the pics you’ve sent me,” he said, referring to the innocent selfies you sent him, trying to cajole a few out of him. Something to keep you going in between spouts of seeing him. 

“You’ve jerked off to me?” You asked. 

Marvin nodded. “Did you intentionally masterbate in front of your bedroom window for me?” He asked.

Your thighs tingled. He had been watching! The confirmation of it made you clench even more, wanting so desperately to rush this. To speed things along. To pounce on him and not come up for air. 

You nodded. “I hoped you were watching,” you confessed.

Marvin smirked. “Is that right?” He asked.

You nodded and went back to nuzzling his dick. The sweet musk of him. He kept the hair here nice and trimmed, just like the rest of him. You were a little intimidated by it, but you were willing to try. 

You opened your mouth and suckled the head. Marvin groaned, his hand flying to your hair but then backing away. You chuckled. “You can play with my hair,” you told him.

Marvin’s hand went back to your hair, scratching lightly. Your eyes rolled and you went back to suckling him down further. Damn. No one’s ever done that for you before. It activated your demon brain, taking off the kid gloves. 

You sucked him down in one fell swoop. Marvin moaned, grabbing your hair and yanking painfully. You kept going, slobbering on his dick. Playing with his dick. Toying with it. Unleashing all that pent up horniness, disgusting daydreams, and filthy fantasies your mind had cooked up over the past few months. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” Marvin moaned. He gripped your hair tighter and you moaned, panties getting wetter by the second. You planned to ease him into this. Get used to the idea that you wanted him worse than an addict wanted a drink. Then you would ease him into your filthy mind. The way you turned into an absolute horn dog when you wanted someone. 

You didn’t know what it was. Only that once you were locked in to someone, you burned bright and fast. You were into it all. Being dominated, being controlled, being at the mercy of someone else. It didn’t always work out well. Some men were just too weak to fit the bill. 

But you needed to put it on Marvin. Needed him to know how serious you were. How this wasn’t casual to you. And you hoped it wasn’t for him. Because he was already sending hella signals that he was into you, that this wasn’t small. And you feared that once you got a taste, you wouldn’t be able to stop. Would cross oceans of time to get back to him and his glorious dick.

Your slobber dripped down your chin as you spat on it and then sucked him back down. The chorus of curses raining out of Marvin’s mouth was like music to your ears. The subtle praise was successfully turning your mind to mush. 

“Fuck, I’m ‘bout to bust, sweetheart,” he groaned.

You renewed your efforts, gripping onto his thighs and sucking him down as far back as he would go. You slowly withdrew his dick from your mouth, feeling every vein and the edge of his mushroom head. Fresh precum leaked into your mouth and then you swallowed him all again. 

“Shit,” Marvin said. “So fucking beautiful with my dick in your mouth,” he moaned. 

You moaned around his dick, looking up at him and repeating your efforts. Getting faster and faster until Marvin gripped your head on either side and moaned. Cum pulsed into your mouth and you drank greedily. His dick throbbed, more leaking out. You suckled that down too. 

“Oh shit, oh shit,” Marvin groaned. You slowly withdrew him with a pop and licked the corners of your mouth. 

Marvin was sweating and his chest was heaving with his breaths. He stared at you like you were otherworldly. Something conjured from his mind and made flesh. You loved that look in his eye. You grinned and nuzzled his balls. His slick dick smeared across your face, but that was okay. You couldn’t stop touching him, being near him, pleasuring him. 

“Stand up,” he commanded. You used his thighs for support as you stood up and shook out your aching legs. Your focus had been on making him cum in your mouth so you ignored your body’s protests. Now that you were back to the land of the living, your check engine lights came on. 

Your feet burned with static as feeling returned, your knees groaning, and your thighs slightly shook. You used the end of your shirt to clean off the rest of your mouth, the saliva and cum you didn’t get to. 

Marvin grabbed you by the elbow and shoved you down the hallway. You giggled from the way he manhandled you. He tossed you onto the bed and then went to work taking off his shoes and clothes. Fully naked before you, you sat up on your elbows to take in the full view of him.

Fuck, he was perfect. His body was thick in all the right places. Round belly but there was muscle underneath, arms big enough to crush melons, thick waist, and big sexy thighs. His sexy brown skin only seemed to shine brighter in your room. No shadows to hide behind, he was hands down the finest man you’d ever seen naked. 

Marvin grinned at you and pushed your shirt up to expose your panties. He pinned your legs apart, staring at your clad center. He got to his knees, pulling your leg over his shoulder. “All this time? You’ve been teasing me on purpose?” He asked. 

He pressed a thumb against your pussy and you moaned. The sensation was too much to your oversensitive clit. You squirmed on the bed and all he did was press a thumb there. Either you were just that horny, or you were that horny for Marvin. “Y-Yes,” you moaned, when he pressed his thumb in again. 

“All the dresses, the dates, the intentional innuendos. You wanted me jealous, didn’t you?” He asked. He moved his thumb all around your pussy. Down the seam, down the sides of your panties, towards your entrance.

Your breathing increased, heart jumping in your chest. You were thoroughly turned on. Thoroughly ejected from your brain and into fantasyland. “Yes,” you moaned. You needed more. You needed him to move your panties to the side. 

“Please, Marvin,” you begged.

Marvin pushed his nose into your pussy and took a deep breath. “Such a brat. Why should I reward you for being so bad?” He asked. His thumb pushed past the seam of your panties, pressing into the sides of your pussy and you moaned, pushing your hips down in an effort to get him where you wanted him. 

“I’ve been good, I swear,” you said. 

“You let those other men touch you?” He asked. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick thighs. 

You never went on any dates and you wondered if you should fess up to that. However, there was a feral, animalistic glint in his eye that was turning you on even more. “A little, there was some kissing,” you said instead of the truth. 

Marvin closed his eyes, jaw flexed, and then used his free hand to wipe his face. “What else did you let them do?” He asked. 

His thumb played with the seam of your pussy but he didn’t push in further. Your essence pooled out of you, enough to let him slide without issue. But you needed him to touch your pussy. To stick a finger in, something. He was being so mean. And god, you fucking loved it. 

“That’s it, I swear,” you said. Marvin looked at you, his eyes intense. You nodded. “I swear.” 

Marvin removed his thumb, pressing it to his lips and suckling on your slick. You watched his eyes close, a low hum escaping him. He leaned up and then moved your panties to the side, tongue darting out to lick up from your pussy to your clit.

“Oh shit!” You screamed. His tongue flicked your swollen clit, causing some type of vibration that made your eyes cross. 

“No one else touches what’s mine, understand?” He asked.

“What’s yours?” You asked. Marvin bit the inside of your thigh and you cried out. 

“No one else touches what’s mine. Including you,” he said. He backed up his words with his tongue and lips, zeroing in on your clit and suckling hard. 

You back bowed off of the bed, but you had no room to move. Marvin had you completely trapped and under his mercy. He licked and sucked, making out with your pussy or feasting on an entire meal. You grew wetter from fresh slick and his spit, suckling on you messy and loud. It was lewd, listening to how wet he made you. How turned on he made you. 

“Oh, fuck, Marvin,” you groaned. 

Marvin hummed greedily, still eating you out. He focused on your clit, bringing his hand up to dip into your weeping hole. His hand slipped in easily, messily. You clenched around his finger and moaned. 

Marvin added a second finger, testing how much you could take. It’d been a minute but Black Noir’s dildo was oversized, playing up the stereotype. You were over Vaught for that, but shit, it was the only one close enough to satisfy your sexual appetite. So with two of Marvin’s fingers down to the knuckle, it wasn’t the biggest you’d ever taken. Still.

He knew how to explore with those fingers. Moving them in all kinds of different directions. Your moans and groans changed depending on what he was doing. And fuck if that wasn’t the point. He found exactly what got you going, what got you whimpering and clutching onto him, and your nails digging into his scalp. 

Marvin moaned into your pussy, flicking his tongue across your clit. “I’ll prove that I’m the only man you need,” he said. He went back to suckling and then switched up again, rubbing his fingers against a tiny nub inside you. You exploded. Shattered. Broken into tiny, jagged pieces that scraped your vocal chords as you screamed out your release. 

Marvin continued to eat you out, and rub against that nub. You went from one powerful orgasm to the next. Your leg shook on top of his shoulder. You made all kinds of unholy, unhinged sounds as you flopped on your bed. 

You whimpered as you came down from the second one. Your bed was soaked beneath you. An entire puddle. “You made a beautiful mess, sweetheart,” Marvin said, sounding awed. Sounding reverent. 

Your pussy clenched at his praise. Like that was all he wanted and you granted it to him. You whimpered again, shaking with aftershocks of your orgasm. You thought you were good at sex. You thought you knew how to put it down. Marvin was insane. He was in another league and it was making you feel a little insecure. 

But then Marvin started kissing your thighs as he stood up. He helped removed your panties and then yanked you up by the shirt. You giggled as you fought with the big shirt, wishing you had opted to wear something easier to remove. Marvin giggled too, breaking the intense persona he adopted.

Freed, cold but welcome air hit your hardened nipples. Marvin kissed all over your big belly, all over your rolls, dips, and hips. He moaned after every kiss, like each new space was more delicious than the last. 

“Fuck, you make me feel so good, Marvin. So fuckin’ good,” you panted. You were out of breath. Overheated. He made you feel like you could walk barefoot on the sun and not get get burnt. 

Marvin groaned, kissing up to your chest. He took his time, suckling one nipple into his mouth and then turning his attention to the other. Your knees snapped to his waist, holding him in. Your pussy began throbbing again in record time. 

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart. Can you give me one more? Can you make another mess for me?” He asked, kissing each question into your chest. 

You shook your head. Hell naw you couldn’t give him one more. Was he crazy? Another one? He wanted another one after that previous explosion? You wouldn’t survive it. 

“Where’s your toy?” He asked.

“What?” You asked, fresh dread making your heart sink. 

Marvin got up from the bed and went to your nightstand, opening it and finding his prize. He chuckled, flipping it around while he found the on switch. The dildo started vibrating and he looked from it to you.

“This what you into, huh?” He asked.

You giggled and shook your head. “I know they’re trash but they sure know their client base,” you said. 

Marvin nodded and stepped close to you. And yes, his dick was bigger. Of course it was bigger than the toy. You were out of your league in more ways than one, but he’d been nothing but gentle with you, even while he was doing his own brand of torture. 

He brought the dildo to your clit. You began to moan, pushing against the toy. It was on the lowest setting but it was like heaven against you. You were too sensitive as it was. Marvin played with your essence and the toy, swirling the tip around your clit.

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he said. “You don’t know how many mornings I woke up, humping the shit out of my bed, trying to hold onto my dreams,” he said. 

Oh shit. Marvin’s words went straight to your heart. Why did he have to be so….him? So open, so caring, so filthy? You were going to collapse from it all. 

“Marvin, please,” you whined. Your voice shook. Body so warm and sweaty, mind gone. He broke you down in more ways than one and you once again marveled at him. 

“Is this what you do when you masterbate? Tease yourself? I bet you do,” he cooed at you. He turned up the vibrator, the vibrations more intense and making your teeth chatter. Your toes curled, trying to stave off another orgasm. You weren’t joking. You were really going to collapse from this one. 

“Hey, look at me sweetheart,” he said. Your eyes turned to his and he smiled. “You’re okay. You can let that shit go. I know you like to tease yourself. Play with yourself. ‘Cause you know exactly what turns you on, huh?” He asked.

You nodded, staring into his eyes. You were struggling to breathe but it grew easier focusing on him and not the fact that you were getting ready to combust. “And I can’t wait to get to know every spot, every moan, everything that makes your eyes roll,” he continued.

“Oh, shit, Marvin, Marvin,” you said, words rising with your panic. You were just there, just at the precipice. Your nails dug into his arm but he showed no indication that it hurt him. He was indestructible. Your hero, your savior. 

Marvin leaned in, arm flexing with supporting his weight on the bed. He suckled a nipple back into his mouth, teasing it, rolling it between his teeth. The bite of pain sent a ripple down to your pussy and you throbbed. 

“You’re a brat but you know when to give in, don’t you? There’s only so long you can tease yourself before you get greedy, huh? ‘Cause your spoiled ass always gets what she wants. Go on and let that shit go,” he cooed.

Marvin turned the setting up to its highest setting, pressing it firmly against your clit. You came immediately. Black spots winking in and out of your vision. You broke down, atom by atom, bit by bit, conceptual thought by abstract thought, and there was only you, him, and the intense pleasure he wrought out of your body. You screamed to the ceiling, screamed to heavens, screamed to anyone who was near enough to hear that you were cumming and cumming hard enough to see stars. 

Marvin distantly moved around you, doing something. You weren’t sure what. You were starting to calm down, feeling the fresh pool of wetness leak out of you. “Fuuck, you’re soaked, sweetheart,” he said.

He came back into your field of vision, lining himself up. Oh, he went and grabbed a condom. What a beautiful man. You pushed against his chest, arm too weak to really stop him. “Slow, baby, please,” you huffed. 

Marvin chuckled and pushed against your hand. “You’ve already taken everything so well, sweetheart,” he said and kissed your forehead. 

Your mind emptied out with a feral moan and Marvin pushed into your warm pussy. He groaned as he made contact. “Fuck, you’re good and wet baby. Look at that, slid right in. ‘Cause you take everything so well. So fuckin’ beautiful. So fuckin’ perfect,” he moaned. 

The praise was snatching your soul. Marvin grunted with every slip and slide of him inside you. Your legs locked around his waist, some primal muscle memory locking him in. Trapping him in. Keeping him connected to you while he fucked you.

You gripped onto his shoulders, scratching him. He groaned and began fucking you harder. His big, meaty palms grabbed your hips and slammed you into his dick. He was so big. He stretched you to your limit. But all the preparation made sense to you now. There was no way you could take him unless you were properly wet. 

Wouldn’t be a problem with him but you made a mental note to buy some lube. Possibly two bottles because you couldn’t imagine having this much patience again. You’d want to climb on top of him any chance you got. 

“Fuck, Marvin! You’re so big!” You screamed. And this time, you weren’t trying to hurry the man along. You were dead serious, praising him for what God and genetics blessed him with. Your ass smacked on his thighs, dick burrowing deep inside. 

“Fuck you feel good taking this dick,” he moaned. One of his hands moved to pinch a nipple. He held on while he fucked you hard, headboard clapping against your wall. 

“Shit!” You screamed, once again creaming on his dick. You hadn’t even felt this one coming. It snuck up on you, robbing you of breath and thought. 

Marvin groaned, slammed in a few more times, before shooting into the condom. You felt his dick pulse with each shot of cum and you moaned, clutching his body to you. He slowed down, breathing heavy in your ear. His sweaty body felt cold on yours and yet the heat of him was enough to scald. 

He stood up, slowly withdrawing from you. You groaned as he worked himself out. You rolled to one elbow, huffing with the effort. A thick wad of cum was at the tip of the condom. Marvin smiled at you. It was devastating. It broke your heart. 

You were lost in it completely as he took the condom off and disappeared to your bathroom. You heard water running and then he was back with a washcloth, cleaning up between your legs.

You felt so cherished and taken care of. Where had he been all your life? Moving next to him was the single greatest idea you’d ever had. Fuck every doubt, every regret, every night you spent wondering if this was the right move. Marvin just proved it was.

After cleaning you up, he got rid of the rag and then helped you stand up. He stripped your bed, and then found new sheets in the cabinet you told him about. In record time, he put new sheets on and then was pulling you back down, embracing you from behind.

You snuggled into his warmth, yawning, feeling safe and warm and madly in love. He was never escaping you. Never getting rid of you. Dick could absolutely change a woman’s tune, got damn. 

“I got one more question before you fall asleep, sweetheart,” he said and kissed behind your ear.

“Hmm?” You asked, no energy for anything. You were falling asleep fast.

“Did your shower really go out?” He asked.

“Uh-huh,” you agreed and then you were fast asleep to the sound of Marvin’s chuckles.

There's more! The Secret Mother's Milk Files

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