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heavenbarnes · 8 months ago

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anyways, as i was saying about older bf!simon and his willingness to please learn

pt 2 to this

“you ever heard of a nut video with sound on?”

obviously, he hasn’t- far as he’s concerned, if you haven’t told him about it then it doesn’t exist to him.

no skin off your nose, you’d spend the rest of your life teaching him about the ‘latest trends’ if it meant he kept sending those filthy fucking videos to your phone.

(your favourites on tiktok were purely filled with ideas)

he’s holed up in a remote location, killing time till he can be home and actually do something to you rather than send you a bloody video about it.

your instructions come through clear and concise, just how he likes:

“it’s what’s written on the can, si- you can pick the setup but i just want to see you cum and, most importantly, i want to hear it”

you’re lucky simon is such a practical guy and maybe you could thank price one day for making him so good at following orders.

when he’s got his alone time he’s setting his phone up to record on the edge of the window sill, moonlight fighting through the curtain to illuminate him.

he’s lost the bulkiest of his gear, down to his tactical trousers and a compression t-shirt. the images in his tattoo sleeve almost move when the light catches them right.

balaclava on (the one that just shows his eyes above the painted image of a skull) and he’s standing up to undo his belt (that you think looks like an airplane seatbelt).

you can hear his boots against the floorboard as he steps back to give you the full view of him undoing his trousers, taking his sweet time because he knows it drives you fucking batty.

he’s so big that the phone is working overtime to get all of him in the frame but you see exactly what you need to- thick thighs at your eye line and massive hands drawing down his fly.

on (you assume) the other side of the globe, you’re at home in your shared bed and you’re propped up right in the middle with the smell of simon engulfing you as you watch the video play out before you.

(if you’d thought about it you should’ve cast it to the bedroom tv, hoping the neighbours didn’t mind)

simon sits back down with his legs spread wide, one hand gripping his thigh as the other rubs himself over his boxers. his eye contact with the camera was fucking intense, like you’d hoped, just like when he’s on top of you.

he’s dressed in all black and the moonlight is obscured but you can still see him firming up in his pants. his eyes flutter, an infinitesimal amount but you’ve been tuned into his every move since you met him.

your thumb leans hard on the volume up button and you can hear the diegetic sound of the building expanding and that usual technical hum that comes with a video. but at this pitch, you could hear him.

his breathing was chopped, chest expanding visibly as he pulled his cock out into clear view. jeeeeesus christ, it was never something you just got used to.

long, reasonably straight, fucking thick. even his hand struggled to make it look smaller as he wrapped around it, giving one dry tug.

as he closed his palm over the tip, you saw him make a swipe before he brought his hand back down considerably smoother than before. you’d had your hands down his pants enough times, man leaked like a fucking faucet.

simon’s head tipped back as he started to pull himself off, balaclava raising just enough to expose some of his throat. if you were there you would be perched in his lap, letting him do the work but running your tongue under the lip of the fabric.

one of the best things about the videos simon sent was, he didn’t really understand how sexy he was. he didn’t think any of the videos particularly watchable so he’d just send them on first take. if you liked them, you liked them- yours was the only opinion that mattered.

what that meant was, you never got b-roll. everything he sent you was unbridled perfection. captured exactly as it happens with no faffing about.

always whatever you’ve asked for, whenever you ask.

(simon’s nothing if not inexplicably obedient)

he brings his hand under his chin to spit into the wide span of his palm, wrapping back around his cock and tugging. his foreskin moved over the head, rolling back down and thick veins bulging under his grasp.

you’d almost forgotten the conditions of your request, totally fucking enamoured by the sight in front of you when it caught you off guard.

a guttural moan ripped out of simon’s chest as he twisted his wrist.

his free hand moved to cup his balls, big and heavy, he rolled them in his palm as another groan sounded out of him. what you wouldn’t give to be knelt between his thighs with the whole lot in your mouth.

you knew how much of an ask this was, you really had to work him up to making noise when it was just you two in bed. these days? you couldn’t shut the man up when he was balls deep and his face was buried in the crook of your neck.

but this was another step, this was him on his own with his crew just through the walls. he’d be a plain liar if he said there wasn’t that rumbling trepidation in his chest. he’d put it to bed though.

all he had to think of was you, one hand gripping your phone and the other between your thighs as you watched him through with a hazy smile- that kept him going.

with the thought still heavy on his mind, you didn’t have to strain to hear your name drift off his lips. his hips bucked into his hand as he did, speeding up the motion of his strokes.

you were going to black out, his tattoos flexing and his chest expanding with every stuttered breath. simon looked like a god among men and he fucking sounded like one too.

“fuck, sweetheart- you’re so fucking filthy giving me orders like this”

your cheeks were burning, he wasn’t wrong but you weren’t expecting him to call you out quite like this.

“what does that make me? always so fucking eager to do what you say? make a dirty old man, yeah?”

wheeeeeew that’ll do it, your thighs snapped together around your hand as your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. whenever you thought you couldn’t take any more, he was always there to do you one better.

“only for you, pet- you can always get whatever you fucking want from me”

and you knew he was serious, that’s what made it all the more debilitating. simon was unshakeable, you’d seen him go out of his way to defy orders if he didn’t think the person worth his time.

when it came to you? you could tell him to kill and he would.

(he probably had)

simon’s hips were twitching, back arching in a way he’d rather die than have anyone else know about. his mouth was hanging open beneath the balaclava, your name and a string of expletives falling off his tongue.

so quick you nearly missed it, the hand that was cradling his balls moved to grip the fabric of his shirt and push it up his toned front. you couldn’t call his abs cut and defined, there was aged layer to them, but they were undeniably there.

you’d rested your head on them, pressed your palms against them, even ridden them enough times to know they were there. regardless, he looked fucking perfect under the moon glow as he stroked himself hard and long.

eyes locked onto the camera, broken moans on his lips, you saw his hips lift one last time as thick spurts of cum began to paint his stomach and chest.

scars illuminated under the night sky, mirrored by shiny patches of hot cum splattered across the same stretch of skin. the hairs on his chest were matted with sweat and were now being splashed with how far he was shooting.

you could only watch with your mouth hung open as he tugged himself through his orgasm. soon it was only the sound of his laboured breathing, chest rising and falling as he tucked his soft cock back into his pants.

just when you thought that was it, you found one of his hands lifting up the edge of his balaclava till his lips were exposed. two fingers of his other hand swiped up some of his spend before he lay them on his tongue.

knuckles in your mouth, biting down to suppress a scream, simon readjusted his clothes as he stood and took a heavy step towards the camera.

one hand braced on the window sill, the other gently gripping himself through his trousers- his voice was so fucking gravely it could’ve reverberated round your room.

“what’s next sweet’art? you name it, it’s yours”

#i actually went fucking crazy on this one i couldn’t stop writing #id give a fucking kidney to watch this guy jerk it on camera #anyways ANWAYS put a ghost mask in my bfs amazon cart- WHO SAID THAT?#simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley drabble #simon ghost riley drabble #ghost drabble #simon riley blurb #simon ghost riley blurb #ghost blurb #older bf!simon

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nanamiscocksleeve · 4 months ago

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Telling The LADS Men to Ditch The Condom

Them reacting to you saying you want them to fuck you raw. Warnings : MDNI, sex, oral, handjob, and general smut These banners are mine, please do not reuse them.

Zayne, as a doctor, preached safe sex. He appreciates the responsibility and nothing is more attractive to him than a woman who is aware of her birth control options and doesn’t mind communicating openly with him about these decisions. After all, having sex was such an intimate act for him that he wouldn’t even think about it until you’d been dating for at least a month. He likes the exclusivity and the closeness of sex, and that includes being held accountable for the choices both of you made in the bedroom. So when you tell him to lose the condom, he blinks, making sure he hasn’t misheard you.

“You…want to do it without a condom?”

His head is between your thighs, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh as he edges his way towards the moist and sensitive folds, and he raises up on his elbows to ensure his ears aren’t being obstructed by your legs.

You nod slowly, blushing as his dark eyes fixated on yours, the flecks of amber in them lightening at the idea. His pupils dilate at your affirmation, and he hoists himself up a little higher, resting on your belly, gently stroking your flanks. “You’re sure about this? There’s no pressure you know.”

“I know. But I feel like we’ve been together long enough to allow ourselves to go one step further. And I’m on the pill. We can monitor the situation later if you want to but honestly Zayne, I think any step I take with you isn’t going to be something I regret.” You say the words candidly, reaching down to stroke his black, silky, locks of hair, heart skipping a beat as he plays with the squish of your belly, nuzzling his face into the softness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes flutter closed for a second, the ebony eyelashes resting like fans on his cheekbones before he sighs, the little puff of air sending a shiver across your middle. He crawls up towards your face, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, tongue sliding across the slit of your lips before entering inside. You cup his face and deepen the kiss, heat gathering in your body. Zayne pulls away only to come to your ear, hot breath tickling you as he speaks.

“I don’t think I’ll regret this either.” He licks the shell of your ear, making you twitch. “But remember, if you change your mind, I’ll stop. No questions asked.”

His words are so sincere and spoken with love, adding fuel to the fire. Zayne, patient and considerate, is looking at you with those sharp eyes as if you’re his last meal on earth. He kisses his way down, pausing briefly to shower some attention over your perked nipples, giving them soft licks and kisses that make you mewl and whine with need. Once he’s back at his original spot between your legs, your arousal has increased a hundredfold, your sex soft and swollen, leaking fluid as he parts your folds.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, licking slow lines from cunt to clit, before slurping the swollen pearl into his mouth, suctioning it with his lips. His middle finger flirts with your entrance, teasing it until it starts sucking in his fingertip, drawing a moan from you as he strokes it along your upper wall.

Zayne knew his anatomy and he never wasted a second in touching you exactly in the spot that made you feel like you were turning into a pile of goo. Never in a hurry, always taking his time, coaxing orgasms from you like a hobby, the breath tearing from your throat, your core spasming from the pleasurable waves that radiate throughout your body. Zayne nudges you through the final vestiges of your orgasm before stroking himself, readying his hardened cock.

He’s done this before but what gets to him as he aligns his tip with your hot entrance is how heightened the sensation is, the absence of latex allowing him to profoundly feel every muscle contract and fully experience how wet and welcoming your body truly was. He grits his teeth, his balls throbbing, desire surging through his veins, almost snapping his self-control.

He inches in slowly, splitting you apart, marveling at how you stretch to fit him, the little noises that leave your throat music to his ears. Once fully sheathed, he looks at you, hair tousled and splayed across the pillow, a flush across your face. He thrusts with care, drawing a moan of longing from you and softly rolls his hips, adjusting himself at an angle he knew you liked.

Every movement brushed his mushroomhead against your gspot, soft sighs filling the air, his lips descending onto yours, his thumb working your clit, gradually bringing up your pleasure to another peak.

“You feel so good darling,” he pants, his thrusts becoming steadily faster, his willpower fading away to primal need. “Taking me so well,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

Your body is reeling from the stimulation and with Zayne’s gentle ministrations on your clit you cum with a cry, his hips stuttering as he feels the orgasmic spasms of your core around his cock. He tries to hold on, but it’s too much, his head growing sensitive as your second orgasm sucks him in deeper into your warmth, his balls tightening up and the coil in his belly compressed to a limit until it snaps, and with a grunt, he spills himself into your body.

Afterwards, he holds you tenderly, gently easing out, and cleaning up your messy slit with a warm washcloth, playing with your hair until the both of you fall asleep.

This is a man who’s been taught condoms are the best way to avoid complications. It’s a golden rule that he will not have unprotected sex for both health reasons and to avoid making the person he’s with uncomfortable. You don’t have condoms? He’s running to the pharmacy to get some. He takes these things seriously and understands that it’s simply gentlemanly to be the one to buy condoms. Xavier wants to feel like he can be relied on in situations like this and that you should never feel awkward asking him to make a condom run or any kind of run.

He’s reaching for the box to roll one onto himself when you hold his wrist. Curiously, he looks at you, a sight to behold, a heavenly sight laying on his bed, lips plump and swollen from his kisses, body glistening with sweat from your recent orgasm.

“Ditch the condom Xav,” you murmur, tracing his arm with your fingers, causing goosebumps to bloom on his skin, his usually slow heartbeat picking up a few paces.

“Are you sure angel?” He lays down gathering you in his arms, his erection tickling your belly as he breathes in the perfume of your hair.

“Positive.” You stroke his cheek reassuringly, feeling like you could drown in the depths of his blue eyes, unable to control the little giggle that leaves your throat as he blushes at your confirmation.

“Xavier.” You grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never been more sure. I know I can trust you, rely on you. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to feel you inside me, no barriers.”

He’s shy, his smile so awkward and his face so pink. This was new to him, and the fact that you’re asking so sweetly is pulling at his heartstrings. After hesitating for another moment he places the condom back on the nightstand.

“All right angel. Since you're sure. But tell me if you feel uncomfortable at all ok?” Xavier rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones in circles, a sweet and tender gesture, carefully laying over you, his chest coming into contact with yours as he tips your face up for a kiss, his hands slipping under you and clasping your shoulder blades to bring your body as close to his as he could.

While his tongue explored your mouth, he raises slightly on his knees and effortlessly finds your moist entrance with his tip savoring each tiny inch that envelopes his cock with aching warmth. He's unable to control the sigh that escapes his lips, lost in your mouth as he feels the wet muscles contract around him, pulling him in. The feeling is inexplicable, the intimacy of skin on skin making him feel heady and light, heart racing in his chest.

His brilliant blue eyes begin to darken at the edges, turning into a darker shade of midnight as he bottoms out, little noises of contentment resounding in your throat as you feel the hot velvet column of his cock fill you, feel the way it pulses as he occupies your pussy.

“Xav… You feel amazing,” you gasp as you pull away from his mouth, his hips coming to lay flush against yours as he thrusts into you, stroking your inner walls and teasing all the right spots inside you. He's hot and flushed, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure, his blush settling across his cheeks and nose like adorable pink freckles. You smile hazily as him and his head dips down to suckle as nipple, his tongue caressing the little bud, turning your moans into sighs of longing.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit you almost cry out from the pleasure of it all, every sensitive spot being hit at the same time with aching perfection. His breath mingles with yours, sweat forming on both your bodies as you rock against each other, creating delicious friction, matching the other rhythm for rhythm, strike against long stroke.

The edges of your vision blur as your climax grows nearer and Xavier’s jaw grows tight, a moan escaping his lips as he tries to hang on, determined not to climaxes before you. His thumb picks up its pace and with a shaky gasp, your orgasm hits, the sweetness of it making you sob as it grips you, feeling your core spasm, and with a final push of triumph, he allows himself to succumb to his own desires, cock twitching and spasming along with your pussy as he cums, coating your walls with his seed.

Tired, he collapses on top of you as gracefully as he can, your hands and soothingly rubbing over his back, kissing his hair, murmuring praise to him as he floats down from his high.

“Angel…you're so wonderful. The best.” his head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he tries to grasp into reality. You can't help but laugh lightly. Xavier always gets pussy drunk and now without the condom it appeared to accelerate to an entirely fucked out state.

His eyes gleam like sapphires as his breathing returns to normal. “Well how am I supposed to be the guy making the condom run now after knowing what it feels like without one?”

You roll your eyes affectionately at him and flick his forehead.

Rafayel isn't unfamiliar with sex and intimate relationships but he doesn't often engage in them. He's quite shy and doesn't tell you what he's thinking. With patience and a little experimentation, Rafayel slowly came out of his shell and learned to feel comfortable enough with you to express his desires and wants. However, he's nervous about how you'll react to him admitting he's been wondering how it would be without a condom so he clams up.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are half lidded, whining as he rests between your legs, his back against your chest as you pump his erection with aching perfection.

“Feeling good baby?” You coo at him as he writhes under yourself ministrations at your mercy.

“Yeah… So close… Don't stop… “ he pants, hips desperately thrusting up to meet your strokes, feeling his thigh muscles quiver and his abs growing tighter with each passing second.

“Talk to me Raffy… how good am I making you feel?”

“So good…” His eyes, a lovely shade of lavender gray are starting to turn into smoke as his impending climax builds and rises. His cheeks are flushed and there's sweat on his forehead and chest from the exertion, the gentle crescendo of pleasure building to a steady peak.

He gazes up at you in a haze, those adorably plump lips parted as he gasps for air.

“You're so pretty when you pout you know?” you ask teasingly and as predicted his brow furrows, displeased at your amusement.

“Don't… say things like… that!” the color in his cheeks rises and your own control slips slightly as you lean down to give an admonishing nibble on his lower lip. The extra stimulation is enough to push him over the edge and with a groan he pulses, his cock warm and needy in your palm, spilling his cum into your hand.

Your clean hand plays with his pretty hair as you continue to pump him with care ensuring he rides out every drop of his orgasm, a few more more spurts of viscous fluid leaking from his tip before stopping.

Rafayel relaxes on your lap as you reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your hand. His eyes linger on your messy hand, sticky with his arousal and he feels his cock twitch despite having just cum.

“I wonder what it would look like slipping out of your pussy instead of your hand,” he says in a quiet pondering voice that has you pausing, a wicked grin forming on your face.

“Raffy… Did you just say you wanted to fuck me without a condom?” You emphasize the word ‘fuck’ on purpose because of how flustered he gets when he hears it and sure enough, he pouts, a noise of embarrassment escaping his lips, rolling onto his side to hide his face.

You quickly discard the used tissue and lay down to face him, pulling his struggling hands away from his face which looks like a setting sun now, adorably flushed, eyes bright and averted.

“Raffy tell me what you want.” You reassuringly pull closer to him, nuzzling his warm neck.

His cheek rests on the top of your head and with a sigh he admits with a hint of bashfulness, “I fantasize about it sometimes. But we don't have to,” he adds quickly.

Your laughter is muffled by his neck as you lean back to look at him. “I think we've been together long enough to discuss doing it raw.” You look at him imploringly.

“Cmon baby. We can ditch the condom today. I kinda want to know what it feels like too.”

His smokey lavender roam over your face, still carrying hints of hesitation in them. “You're sure? You're not just doing this because I want to right?”

“Oh Raffy. There's never been a day where you've made me feel forced to do anything. I'm very sure.” You cup his face between both your hands and gaze at him lovingly.

He laughs awkwardly, smiling shyly and you feel his erection press against your thigh as the both of you draw in for a kiss, Rafayel pulls your knee over his hip, stroking your moist folds with his cock. You whine in pleasure as he holds his cockhead up to your clit and you slide along his length, both of you sighing passionately at the intimate touch. His engorged tip cups the base of your clit so perfectly and you feel your core clench in anticipation.

Rafayel drags his length between your folds one more time before sliding down to your needy hole, groaning as your wet heat circles his tip. You push down on him, feeling the heat of his member, enjoying the way he fills you so wonderfully, his head sitting snug against your gspot.

The thrusts were shallow in this position but it allows you to snuggle into his chest, look deeply into his eyes and kiss him at leisure, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you with aching precision. He toys with your clit , pinching and rolling it for your pleasure.

He's amazed at how good you feel, how tight you are around his length, how wet you really are. The condom almost dulled this sensation and it feels like he's woken from a dream and experiencing reality for the first time.

Your orgasm hits sharply, making you cry out and cling to him the combined fondling of your clit and gspot too much for handle. As it starts to settle down you moan in his ear.

“Baby… Give it to me. I want to know what your cum slipping out of my pussy feels like too. Please… Cum for me… Like how I came for you…”

Your voice is whiny and pleading and Rafayel's hips stutter as he reaches his peak, letting out noises of his pleasure into your ear as he cums, and you feel his hot seed fill your eager pussy. As the both of you catch your breath, kissing each other in the afterglow, everything feels right.

Rafayel's erection softens and as it happens you feel the unmistakable feeling of your combined cum sliding out of your pussy, pooling at the crevice of your thigh.

“That's so hot,” you murmur and from Rafayel's expression he's thinking the same thing. He gathers a little bit of your mixed fluids on his finger, fascinatedly tasting it, his eyes intoxicated at the flavor.

“See what happens when you tell me what you want?” you strokes his arm. He nods then gets close to your ear.

“I don't think I want to use a condom ever again.”

Sylus is that guy who loves going in raw but only if he's sure you're into him. And despite the talk of him being the ruthless leader of Onychinus, he's a true gentleman and would never bring the topic of having unprotected sex unless you initiate it. He prides himself on being someone you look to for security amidst the chaos in the N109 zone.

His fingers are knuckle deep into your pussy, wet squelching noises filling the air as his long fingers expertly tease that bundle of nerves inside you while his thumb rubs circles on your clit drawing out a moan of longing from you, your walls clenching around his thick fingers.

“That's it good girl… Give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles in approval as you writhe desperately on his fingers feeling your body tense in anticipation at what was to come.

His lips hover over your collarbone nibbling leisurely and you roll your hips, moaning as your climax washes over you, pussy spasming from the gratification.

He licks his fingers clean, savoring the tang of your arousal before pulling you in for a deep kiss, pulling you snugly against his chest, and pressing kisses to your hair. You taste the musky flavor of your orgasm, transferred from his tongue to yours.

Your hands are already busy with his cock, tickling his thighs and cupping his balls drawing a chuckle from him.

“Easy kitten. We have all night.” His tongue slips between your lips again and gives you a sloppy kiss, a noise of delight leaving you as you stroke the hot velvet of his cock.

“Sylus?” you stroke him in a steady rhythm that has him humming, the noise sounding like a cat purring, his abs contracting in response to your touch.

“Yes doll?” he licks and nibbles down the side of your neck making you shiver. His crimson eyes fixate on you as you hesitate to speak.

“What is it? You know I'll do anything for you right?” He grasps your chin firmly and makes eye contact, feeling flattered when you blush, your nipples perked from your recent orgasm, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, looking divine.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Um… How would you feel if… we didn't… Useprotection?” the last few words are said in a rush, and your cheeks grow hot as you make your request. It's not normal for you to feel so shy, after all Sylus was incredibly open to experimentation and exploring kinks with you. But there was something so personal about asking this of him, letting a part of him sit within you so intimately and the vulnerability made you feel exposed.

Sylus rises a contemplative eyebrow, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he sees how flustered you're getting.

“The kitten has gotten bold,” he says approvingly. “You wish to have all of me? Feel my cock in all it's exposed glory inside your wet little cunt?”

The crudeness of his words sends a rush of arousal straight into your already dripping core. Heat fills your cheeks and you slap his shoulder.

“Don't say it like that!”

“isn't it the truth though?” Sylus rolls you on top of him as he lays back against the pillows, enjoying the view of your soft body. “Don't you want to feel every inch of my veiny cock fill you, rub your sensitive walls and fuck you senseless? All the while your tight little pussy keeps getting wetter for me and you can't do anything except helplessly moan and let me stuff you with my seed?”

His ruby eyes glitter sinfully as he watches you squirm under his gaze. How cute. His fingers idly stroke your sides, your hands full of his cock but momentarily frozen from his teasing.

“Don't feel like you have to stop on account of me sweetie,” he prompts, then can't stop himself from laughing as you hasten to continue with your strokes. “You fluster so easily.”

“Anyone would if spoken to that way!”

“Oh no sweetie. I doubt anyone else would have such an adorable reaction. Why can't you just admit that you want me in you, no barriers, just raw and primal like animals?”

Your nails scratch over his abs, feeling them quiver. “If you don't want to just say so.”

“Don't be that way.” His red eyes narrow, hands tightening around your waist. “You know I want to.” His large hands cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Then why do you keep laughing like it's funny?” you whine as he twists your nipples, and grind his upper thigh.

Sylus's eyes soften slightly before he leans up to kiss a nipple and pull it softly with his lips. “Mhm… Sy…” your nails scratch his scalp as you cradle his head.

He lets go and blows a puff of air over the hardened peak, causing it to perk up more before circling it with his thumb. “I adore you doll. It’s not that I find it funny. I'm very flattered that you want me that way. But if I let my desire for you consume me, you may find yourself pushed to a limit.”

He traces a finger from between your breasts down to your navel. “You may find me… being rough. More than you're used to. Because kitten…” he leans up with you balanced on his body and with a soft tickle of hot breath on your ear that has you jerking slightly in surprise, he says in a feral whisper, “the thought of burying myself in your cunt with no condom on, feeling how you clench and get turned on for me makes me want to eat you alive.”

Blood rushes to your face and Sylus watches with satisfaction. He caresses your cheek. “Ride me kitten.”

His eyes darken as you glance at him under lowered lashes. You crawl over his body on your hands and knees hovering your slick core over his hard length. He sucks in a breath as you lower your hips, teasingly brushing his tip against your wet hole, the sensation of so inviting it takes all his willpower not to slam into you mercilessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was on top, wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking. Putting you in control was the wise choice here.

“Fuck kitten,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”

Sylus's cock stretches you deliciously as you take him in, feeling his veins and heat pulsate achingly inside you. You whine as you fit him in, you whine each time because he's just so big, and it takes a while to adjust and take him. It never fails to make him smirk but today he's watching intently wondering how he's supposed to last with your pussy gripping him like a glove and enveloping him with your needy heat.

When you finally bottom out, both of you take a collective breath and feeling so full, feeling how he fits inside you. Resting your palms on his chest you start to move, lifting your body up feeling him stroke your inner walls and start to ride him.

You start slow, setting a pace that has him groaning, holding your hips so tightly it hurt but you continue, angling your body until you feel his engorged head brush your gspot. His teeth are gritted as he slips a finger between your legs and finds your hardened clit, stroking it to match your movements.

The texture of his cock has you moaning, his gentle movements on your clit pushing you closer to him edge. Sylus lets out a hiss of air, trying not to disturb your pace but his will is being ripped to shreds.

You were so warm. So tight and wet. And claiming you without a condom in his opinion only solidified further that you were his. Marked, claimed, and rightfully his in the most biblical sense.

Your pace picks up as you ride him, needing more friction pathetic noises leaving your throat as you chase your orgasm. Your thighs quiver and burn from the effort but you're so close that you push through the pain, gasping as Sylus firmly presses into the little bud.

“You're so cute like this, struggling on my cock. Let go for me sweetie… Make a mess all over me.”

His words are a sinful request mingling with the sounds of slapping skin and lewd noises of need. With a loud breath of desire, you cum all over him, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable spasms that rock your body.

It's too much for Sylus to handle, and taking advantage of your momentary lack of movements, he thrusts upwards into you, fucking you through your orgasm desperate to cum with you.

The absence of the condom aids him and with a loud bark he feels his balls tightening and his orgasm hits him like a train, holding you tightly as pleasure flows through him, his seed filling into your needy pussy.

Fuck he was addicted. He rolls you onto the bed and holds you close to him.

“You're going to be the death of me kitten.”

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euthymiya · 1 month ago

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khaenriahn princess reader x knight capitano ; jealous capitano ; implied hidden relationship ; pre cataclysm ; royal au ; capitano is not cursed yet so his skin is supple and youthful ; banter and fluff

“There is word, my lady,” his voice says lowly. You hum, reaching over to grab at his helmet. Capitano gently captures your hand before you can, pulling it away from its path to uncover his face. There’s a fleeting frown on your lips, but it’s gone as soon as he brings it up and presses a small, delicate kiss to the knuckles through the dark cloth that hides him from you.

“Oh? What of, my dear knight?” You ask curiously. Something tells him it’s almost mockingly innocent.

“That there is a rather…determined prince seeking your hand in marriage.”

Sometimes, it feels unfair that very rarely do you get to see the face hidden underneath the armor, but you suppose you don’t need to see Capitano to know exactly what emotion is twisted in his face. You fight back an amused grin—his voice tells you all you need to know.

You’re certain he must taste his own bitterness as the words fall from his tongue.

“Such grand news,” you gasp, “and yet…you speak with such hesitation. Has this news not brought you joy, my captain?”

“Forgive me, my lady,” he says unamused, voice low and just shy of a grumble, “I value your wellbeing above all. Should a capable prince ask for your hand, I would be most delighted if that is what you accept.”

“You do not sound delighted at the idea,” you tease.

“Perhaps my lady has not given me reason to think she would be interested in such a proposition,” he mutters.

This time, his voice does, in fact, sound the slightest bit petulant—like a child who sulks after being scolded. His tone is usually one that is far too courteous. Painfully so, in fact. (You’ve spent a good number of exasperating moments insisting he be more casual with you. You reap the rewards of those efforts few and far in between). But now, he betrays himself with a flicker of frustration, far too evidently for even you to miss.

He realizes too late how childish the words must sound spoken so irritably. You can tell that he clenches his jaw, seeing the tension even under the mask as he forces himself to still the bitterness spreading through his veins.

“Tell me, my dear knight,” you grin. You can imagine the unhappy lift of his brow as you speak, “what makes you so certain I would be disinterested in such an enticing offer?”

“It seems my assumptions were incorrect,” he grunts, straightening his back before promptly adding, “forgive me, my lady. I must see to rather urgent military affairs. I shall be seeing you—”

“Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Sir Capitano,” you quip, your hand grabbing at his wrist, tugging him towards you. He stills, stiff as a statue as your hand reaches for his helmet once more.

This time, he doesn’t stop you. He allows the lithe, delicate fingers he knows so well to grab at the edge of his helmet, carefully tugging it off before his face slowly reveals itself to you. You smile, cupping a cheek before tracing your thumb along the soft skin of his face.

“I am not jealous,” he says stubbornly.

“Haven’t they taught you never to lie to a princess?” You hum, stepping closer. His lips twitch just a fraction at the edges before two strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. Flush against his chest. Tucked right against his heart. Pressed so close, you almost wonder if you could feel his heart beating through the armor if you paid close enough attention.

“You torment me, my lady,” he murmurs quietly, “I fear I cannot accept this arrangement. It would tear through my soul to watch you be wed to another.”

“Then do not watch me,” you whisper.

You have seen his eyes flicker with soft, warm affection countless times. There is beauty underneath the helmet he wears so often, beauty that not many are so fortunate to see. You see it often, though. In private, hidden moments that he affords you. In the quiet of your chambers where the maids cannot disturb you. In the corners of the palace where no one can interrupt your fleetingly lingering touches and longing gazes.

Your hands hold his face, slowly pulling him closer as you study every precious slope across his skin. The slightly jagged curve of his nose. The plumpness of his lips. The slant of his sharp cheekbones. Every feature you know by heart, and revisit in your dreams.

You smile lightly at the thought of his jealousy, as guilty as you should feel for teasing him. Your knight—and you, his beloved princess.

“Do you wish to marry a prince?” He asks, leaning into your neck, breathing in your scent as his nose trails up your jaw until it reaches your cheek. Your breath hitches. His lips quirk into a smile.

“I wish to marry someone who owns my heart,” you say breathlessly, “prince or not.”

“Perhaps what you need is someone who is far more capable of carrying the weight of your heart. You possess rather discerning taste—it is not easy to please you, my lady.”

You huff, glaring at him from the corner of your eyes as you ask, “do you mean to call me difficult?”

“Among other things,” he chuckles. There’s a light, teasing trail of kisses pressed to your skin, leading straight to your lips. Capitano knows exactly what he’s doing, though—he stops just at the corner of them, making you pout as you try to lean in and close the gap.

He grins smugly, pulling away just enough to create distance between your mouths.

“You should not toy with a princess,” you say, displeased.

He hums, rubbing the small of your back as he counters, “and you should not toy with the heart of a man devoted to you.”

“Forgive me, my dear knight,” you murmur, gently bringing his face closer as your hands cradle his face once more, “I shall not torment you with such teasing again.”

“I am most grateful, your highness,” he fights back a chuckle.

Jealousy is unbecoming on someone as noble as the captain of your military forces. You like the way it looks on him just a little, anyway. Love the way his posture is more rigid and his voice is sharper when forced to consider the possibility of your heart yearning elsewhere. Enjoy the way he holds you tighter and closer as cool armor steals your warmth.

“Shall I tell this prince I am not interested?” You ask with a knowing look.

He hums thoughtfully, a smug smile playing on his lips as he replies, “no, I think I’d rather witness the expression of his highness when he realizes his charms hold no sway over you—a rare defeat for a man so certain of his allure.”

“Someday I shall marry you, my dear knight,” you whisper. Finally, with a softened look, he leans in to kiss you. Slow. Delicate. So gentle, it almost feels like you are one whisper from the wind away from falling apart.

“I look forward to it, my lady. Not even celestia could stop me from claiming your hand.”

————————

The last line is a big rip if you know what I mean 😔

#writing tag #capitano x reader #capitano x you #capitano fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff

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imthepointe · 2 months ago

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wowowo WOW, just wow

so i left the ninjago fandom a couple years ago but i know the fics i wrote are still pretty popular, and receiving art for them makes my heart so warm!!!

thank you so much!! this is amazing!! like — im blown away. this is genuinely maybe the best form of compliment ever — receiving someone else’s beautiful artwork!!

thanks for still tagging me so i can see it despite not being in the ninjago fandom anymore 🥹🫶

The earth ninja fell

@imthepointe this one is for you (´꒳`)♡

#and to my aot friends — my humble beginnings 😮‍💨#thank you for the art it’s genuinely so gorgeous. the expression on cole’s face #you captured exactly what i was thinking !!#ninjago cole #hehe #thank you 💞

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classyrbf · 15 days ago

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DO I LOOK LIKE HIM! — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...all his life it was just him and his mother, his father nowhere to be seen or found, vanished, a ghost. No one ever spoke a word of him, he didn’t even know his name. But deep down he begs for answers as his mother always said that he looked just like ‘him’

INFO...megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, toji x fem!reader, angst angst angst, megs is 17, absent father, family trauma, young love, arguing, talks of pregnancy, talks of killing/assassination, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

based on: like him by tyler the creator

“Alright move closer into the photo—yep! Perfect!” Your mom held the camera up to her eye, slightly bending down. “Alright, three…two…one!” She snapped the photo, smiling as she looked at you and Toji.

It was Megumi’s first birthday, friends and family surrounding to celebrate. Endless gifts and food, music playing over the speakers. Small children ran around the yard, infectious laughter filling the air. The sun shined brightly, not a cloud in the sky. You were happy. Toji held Megumi tight in arm, looking down at the baby with a full head of jet black hair.

You and Toji had met in high school, falling for each other in an instant. You were captivated by his silent and mysterious presence and Toji was capture by your smile and the way your eyes shined in the light. But neither of you expected to end up with a baby boy just two years later after graduation. Not a single moment was regretted. You wouldn’t trade this for the world.

“Happy birthday, little man,” he scoffed, holding Megumi above his head. He babbled, giggling as he chewed on his chubby fingers, smiling at his father with love in his eyes.

“I can’t wait to frame this one. You guys look so cute.” Your mom pouted, walking back into the house to put the camera away.

A soft smile spread across your face, holding onto Toji’s arm. “Did you ever think you’d become a dad?” You suddenly asked, watching as your baby played with the fabric of his shirt.

Toji turned towards you, a confused look on his face. “No, but…I’m happy I did. You know I’d do anything for you two.” Toji pulled you in by your waist. “Did you ever think you’d become a mom?”

You shook your head, reaching a hand out to move hair out Megumi’s face. “It’s just weird. We were so young, you know? We still are. But, it feels right.” You rested your heard on his shoulder, letting out a small sigh. A small laugh erupted from your chest, “I carry him for nine months and he came out looking exactly like you.”

“What can I say? I got strong genes, baby.” He nudges you slightly, teasing.

“Oh, hush. I did all the work.” You roll your eyes at him.

“I’m only messing with you.” He plants a kiss on your forehead. “Go on, give mama a kiss, little man.” He holds Megumi towards you. As if on cue, he leans his head down and places his slobbery mouth on your forehead. “There you go! Good job!” He chuckles, smiling at his son. “I can’t wait until you’re older so I can teach you about all sorts of things.” Megumi grabs ahold of Toji’s finger in his small palm, squeezing it. “Gonna teach you all types of sports, how to fight so you can protect mommy. I bet you’ll be a good baseball player.” Megumi squeals at Toji. “Baseball? Yeah? Alright, baseball it is.” He kisses his cheek.

You stand there, admiring your two favorite boys. It’s like you see the future when you look at them. A happy life, a cozy home. Maybe even a sibling for Megumi. A ring on your finger, happily married. Thinking of the days when Megumi starts going to school and brings back all his little projects so you can put them in a box and keep them for the future. You already had so much planned at such a young age, but you were determined to fight for it. For him. For your son.

Megumi sits on the edge of his bed, deep in thought. The ceiling fan provides a low hum as it spins. He stares at the wilted paper in his hand, a handwritten note to him—one he’s never seen until now. His chest feels tight, tears welling in his eyes as he reads who it’s from over and over again.

—Your Dad

It feels like he can’t breathe, anger swirling through him. He thinks of all those times you dismissed his questions and conversations about his father—whoever his father was. And now, he was holding a note from him that was written fifteen years ago. A note of how sorry he is and nothing else. A man of few words. No explanation, nothing.

Growing up, Megumi learned from a young age that he looked just like ‘him’. His grandmother and grandfather always slipping up, staring at him like a ghost had just walked in the room. It only got worse as he grew older, starting growing into his features. You even began to stare at him, a look of sadness in your eyes. He never would say anything, always keeping his mouth shut like he didn’t notice. Not once, did you ever speak of his father. Hell, he didn’t even know his name or what he looked like, but from what he’s been told, he probably looks like an older version of him.

All those days, watching fathers bond with their sons, his friends dads coming to sports games, school events, he always felt like deep down something was missing. He felt different. Every Father’s Day, being tasked to make something special in school for their fathers, but how is a nine year old supposed to say he doesn’t have one? How is a thirteen year old supposed to participate in the father-son day at school when he doesn’t have one? How is a seventeen year old supposed to feel when he sees everyone posting their dads on social media, a heartfelt message written with each one, yet he doesn’t even have a photograph to remember him by?

Tears fall on the paper and the hurt that he held back is now manifesting. Why was so hard for you to say anything about him? Was he dead? Is that why it was so hard? Yet, there was no excuse. Whatever it was, he needed to know why he left. Why he was so sorry. It wasn’t until he heard the front door open, your calming voice calling out to him.

“Megs, I’m home!” You shut the door, placing your bag on the countertop.

The door to his bedroom swung open, fresh tears still on his cheeks, the wrinkled note gripped in his hand. He stomped towards you. “What is this?” His nostrils flared.

A crease between your brows formed, noticing the distressed look on his face before your eyes landed on what he was holding. You felt your heart drop, your mouth falling open to say something, anything, but nothing came out. “Meg—”

“What is this? Huh?! I found it in the back of your drawer! A note from my dad!” He slammed the paper down. “Who is he?! Why did he leave?!” He was screaming, his anger pouring out through his words. “You never talk about him! No one does!” He throws his hands up. “You kept…you fucking kept this from me! Fifteen years!” Hot tears spill from his eyes.

Your eyes widen, your lip quivering as you hold back tears. “I’m sorry.” Your voice breaks. “I’ve been wanting to tell you—”

“When? When, mom?! I don’t even know his fucking name! I don’t know what he looks like! There’s not a single picture in this house of him? Is he even alive?!” The look in his eyes makes you want to break down. You knew this day would come sooner or later, but you never expected it to turn out this way. The note. Of course it was the note. Almost like it was fate.

You inhaled deeply, licking your lips as tears fall. “I’m sorry, baby. I just…”

“Why can’t you tell me?” He speaks softly, voice wavering. “I see it in your face. Everyday when you look at me…you can see him. Who is my dad?” He clenches his jaw, letting out a shaky breath. “Why did he leave us? Why did he leave me?” He questions before fully breaking down into tears, sobbing.

“No,no,” you whisper, taking him in your arms. His tears soak through the fabric of your shirt, clinging onto you like his life depends on it. “It’s not your fault, baby? You hear me? It’s not his, not yours. It’s complicated.” As you stand there with him in your arms, flashbacks of that night Toji left flood your brain.

“Then where is he? Is he dead?” Megumi asks, raising his head to look at you. The question makes you freeze up, biting on your bottom lip so hard you’re sure to draw blood. “Is he dead, mom?” He stands up straight, wiping his tears.

“I…I don’t know,” you sniffle, shrugging your shoulders. You shake your head as you look at your son, feeling so ashamed and embarrassed. So hurt and disgusted. “He loved you so much, Megumi. I promise you.”

“What do you mean you don’t know? If he loved me, he wouldn’t have left!” He shouted in anger. “Who is he?! Just tell me!” He pleads through his cries.

“His name was Toji. Toji Fushiguro.” You stare at him. “Me and your father met young, back in high school. We had you two years after we graduated. We were so scared. Well, I was scared, but your father was ready. He was so excited,” you chuckle, remembering when you first told him you were pregnant. “He loved you, Megumi. And that’s the exact reason why he left,” you explain.

He shakes his head at you. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Your father did everything he could to provide for me and you. You were his everything. His little man. But, he got caught up with the wrong people trying to find ways to make quick money. He was young and desperate, we both were.” Your eyes flutter shut, letting out a sigh. “What your father did for money…you wouldn’t think he was a good man. He made enemies—”

“Mom, what are you saying?! I’m not a kid anymore! Just tell me—”

“He killed people, Megumi! Is that what you wanna hear! He fucking killed people just so he could put food on the table! Fuck!” You hurriedly stand to your feet, looking away from him.

“What…?” He nearly said in a whisper.

“I don’t want you to think he wasn’t a good man, Megs. I don’t want you think he hated you or me. He didn’t. But what he was doing put him and us in danger. He realized that and he left. He couldn’t put us in danger, especially you. That night he left he wrote you this.” You grabbed the note off the counter. “I begged him to stay, baby. I did. I tried. I tried everything.” Megumi sat on the edge of the couch, staring blankly ahead of his as he took all this information in. “He never stopped loving you, Megs. He never wanted to leave.”

He slowly turned to look at you, his chest heaving up and down. His eyes were red and glossy from crying. “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know, baby. He never told me.” You shook your head. He sobbed softly, holding his head in his hands. You walked over, sitting beside him and pulled him into your arms. “Don’t hate him,” you whispered. “He’d be so proud of the man you became. Such a sweet, strong, and smart boy.”

“When did he leave?” Megumi asked.

“A week after your second birthday,” you spoke, biting at the skin on your lip. “He told me you were the best thing to ever happen to him.” You wipe away his tears as they continue to fall. “He’s not a bad guy, he’s just done bad things.”

Now knowing what happened to his father, Megumi felt like his whole world came crashing down. What his father did, who he was. How he came to be. And as much resentment as he holds, he can’t bring himself to hate him. In a way, he understands, but at the same time he doesn’t. He wonders how different things would be if he was here. What life would be Ike. “I’m sorry, mom,” he cried.

“Don’t be, baby. I’m sorry for keeping from you for so long. I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to think he was a bad man. I was scared.” You continue to hold him in your arms, consoling him.

“What does he look like?” He asks.

You smile, looking down at him. “You guys are damn near twins.”

Megumi chuckles a little, “I figured.”

“Wait there a moment.” He watches as slip into your bedroom, a few second passing by before you walk out with something in your hands. “Here.”

Megumi looks down, seeing the array of photos you hold on your hands and hesitates on taking them from you. You sit beside him as he grabs them and looks at the first one. “Is that him and you?” He asks, never taking his eyes off the photo.

“Back in high school.” It was one of the first few photos you and Toji ever took together. A picture at the homecoming dance, a plain look on his face while you had a wide smile on your face. “Your father barely ever smiled. But when you came around, he couldn’t stop.”

Megumi was struck. He really did look like him. From the hair, to the eyes, to the nose. Everything. He looked at the next photo. You were pregnant, Toji holding your belly while kissing your cheek. “You guys looked really happy,” he says.

“Of course we were. Me and your dad loved each other very much. I still love him.” Megumi looks over at you as you say those last words. You still hold so much hope and love in your heart and that tells him maybe he should let this resentment for his father go. Maybe it was time to move on.

“Was this my birthday?” He questions, looking at the family photo your mother took of you three that day. He could see a faint smile on his father’s face, looking at the way Toji held him so close in his arms.

“Your very first birthday. So many good memories. Despite the fact you threw up on your dad’s shirt,” you laughed.

“Really?!” Megumi smiles. You nod, still giggling. “Yikes, he must’ve been pissed.”

“At first he was mad, but then saw you started crying after and felt horrible. I remember his exact words, ‘Stop crying, little man. You can throw up on this shirt a thousand times if you want to.’ He could never stay mad at you.” You brush his cheek, watching his smile get wider and wider.

He finally gets to the last picture. One you took of Toji asleep with Megumi on his chest. “I took that picture after it took him three hours to get you to sleep. You didn’t want to sleep in your crib, kept crying and crying and finally your father just fell asleep with you on his chest.” You watch as he runs his thumb over the picture, observing it more than he did the other ones. “You can keep it if you want.”

“Really?” He glanced at you, a desperate look in his eye.

“Of course.” You kissed his cheek. “I have more we can look at later.”

Megumi nods. There’s a moment of silence as he sits and goes through the pictures again, almost like he’s reliving memories he had no recollection of. “So, you really don’t know if he’s alive or not?”

You shake your head. “Like I said, what your father did caused him to get caught up with the wrong people, making enemies out of anyone. He was never scared of them, of course. But he knew if they ever found out about you or me, it wouldn’t end well.,” you explained. “I wish I knew.”

“Is it weird that I miss him?” He turned towards you, confused. “How can I miss someone I don’t even remember?” His eyes became teary.

“Oh, Megs.” You wiped his tears. “It’s not weird at all, sweetheart. I’m sure he misses you too. A whole lot.” You give him a sad smile.

He sniffles, looking down at the pictures. It was like he finally felt this weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. After years of this gut wrenching feeling, he finally knows the truth. His father did love you. Love him. He no longer felt casted aside. And that feeling gave him hope that maybe he’s still out there, still alive.

#—☆classyrbf #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk angst #toji x reader #toji angst #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro angst #toji fushiguro x reader angst #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi angst #megumi fishiguro angst #jjk x reader angst #Spotify

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