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hoshifighting · 30 days ago

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Two words. Dilf Cheol. (I am on the brink of insanity thank yewww)

dilf!seungcheol

WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crying, marriage, his kid loves u, shy dilf!seungcheol at the beginning.

oh man, dilf!seungcheol though? i think about it every single day, i swear. and yeah, it all starts with that awkward-ass moment at the café. he’s standing there all buff and shy, trying to work up the nerve to ask for your number, his daughter hanging onto his leg like she’s his bodyguard. her big, curious eyes peeking out at you while he stumbles over his words. “uh… I just… I thought maybe you’d… uh,” seungcheol scratches the back of his neck, all nervous—like he isn’t the size of a tank. “you know, if you’re not busy… you could give me your insta?” he’s waiting for you to laugh at him, probably thinks he’s gonna get rejected because, you know, he’s got a kid and all. like that makes him less attractive or something. but you’re all heart-eyes the second his little girl pipes up with, “daddy thinks you’re pretty.”

dude nearly dies on the spot. he’s so red, you could probably cook an egg on his cheeks. but you just crouch down to her level, giving her the same sweet smile you flashed at the waitress earlier, and say, “well, I think your dad’s really handsome, too.”

game over. you’ve got him hooked, right there.

from then on, you’re texting nonstop. it’s almost like a high school crush thing, except the guy’s a full-grown dad who still somehow makes your stomach flip like you’re sixteen again. his insta’s basically a whole love letter to his daughter, like, every other post is her: her in some princess costume, her making pancakes (or trying to), her at the park with him, her with his dog. sometimes, you’ll scroll through his feed just to see him smile because, damn, it’s so rare he smiles like that anywhere else.

but then there’s the gym photos. god, those gym photos. all sweaty and pumped up, and you swear he’s showing off just a bit for you now that he knows you’re watching. his arms look like they could crush you, but the way he talks? it’s like he’s this big ol’ teddy bear wrapped in all that muscle.

“you eat today?” he texts you at like, 2 p.m., no greeting or anything.

you text back, “noo :(( too busy.”

not even a minute later, you get a notification from some food delivery app—he’s already sent something to your place. he’s like that. doesn’t even ask, just takes care of it. if it’s cold out, he’s dropping off a coat. if it rains, a brand new umbrella’s somehow at your work's door.

one night, you're scrolling through insta, and there’s this photo of him at some fancy work event, all dressed up in a suit and tie. goddamn, you think, biting your lip, because who knew seungcheol could clean up like that? the suit hugs every muscle, and it’s wild how he can look that good in anything from sweats to formalwear. you double-tap, and not two minutes later, he’s texting you.

“you like that one?”

you don’t even bother playing coy. “nah, I loved that one.”

there’s a pause, and you can almost picture him blushing on the other end, even though you’re the one getting all flustered.

“well, maybe you’ll get to see it in person soon,” he shoots back, and there’s a teasing edge to it, the same one that’s been driving you absolutely crazy since you started talking.

you roll your eyes, but your heart’s doing that dumb fluttery thing again. “maybe,” you reply, playing along.

and it’s like, you’re not even sure how this all happened so fast, but seungcheol? he’s always making sure you’re good, like his whole day revolves around making you smile, checking in, making sure you're eating, keeping warm. it’s low-key intense but in the best way possible.

and somehow, between all the little text convos and the insta stalking, you’ve found yourself seriously catching feelings for this dad with the cutest kid, the sweetest heart, and a whole-ass gym routine that’s absolutely unfair.

and you wonder: how the hell did you get this lucky?

seungcheol's always been like that—taking care of you like it’s second nature, probably because he’s used to being in dad-mode 24/7. you kinda feel spoiled, in the best way possible. he’s always looking out for you. it’s not that he’s overbearing; it’s just that this is how he shows he cares. but you know it goes both ways.

so one day, you decide to return the favor. you find this pink polo, something that screams him but in the softest, most endearing way. you know his daughter will love it too, ‘cause she’s all about pink and matching with her dad. you send it to him without saying much, just a little note saying, “thought this would look good on you.” the next time you see him, he's wearing it, and yeah, the shirt hugs his body perfectly. he’s acting like it’s no big deal, but you catch the way he blushes when you compliment him. “didn’t have to do all that,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, but his eyes are softer than usual, that little glint of he’s falling harder than he planned.

but what really seals the deal is how u handle his daughter. every time you two try to plan a date, something comes up—his mom’s busy, or the babysitter falls through, and suddenly, the whole night’s flipped. instead of a fancy dinner, you’re headed to the park or some kid-friendly café, making sure his little girl has fun. and somehow, you end up having more fun on those “ruined” dates, watching seungcheol let loose, running around with his kid while you cheer them on. it’s like you get him, get his life, and he’s not used to that.

and then, finally, one night, the stars align. his mom takes the kid for the weekend, and it’s just you and him. alone.

and oh god, does he reward you.

he’s been holding back for weeks—months even. all that pent-up frustration, that tension from constantly having to play the responsible dad while trying to not let himself get too attached to you, it all comes crashing down.

he’s rough, no question about it. but it’s the kind of rough that makes your whole body sing. his hands are everywhere, grabbing, holding, pressing you up against walls and furniture like he’s desperate to feel every inch of you at once. he’s strong, and he knows it, lifting you like you weigh nothing, carrying you from one spot to the next without breaking a sweat.

the first time, it’s almost frantic. he’s pounding into you like he’s afraid the moment’s gonna slip through his fingers, grunting into your ear, his breath hot and uneven against your skin. your legs wrap around him, but you can hardly hold on—he’s relentless, hitting that spot over and over until you’re crying out, body shaking violently.

you don’t even realize your legs are spasming until hours later, when you try to stand and nearly collapse from how shaky you are. but seungcheol’s not done. oh no. he’s far from done.

before you can even catch your breath, he’s down between your legs, eating you out like a man famished. this time, it’s slower his tongue doing things that make you arch off the bed, hands fisting in his hair as he drags you to the edge again, then pulls you back just to do it all over. every time you think you’re about to lose it, he eases up, grinning against your skin like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

and yeah, maybe it’s been ages for him, but fuck, the man knows how to destroy you. by the time he’s done, you’re a complete mess, legs trembling, heart flying from your chest, your body so sensitive that even the thought of him touching you again makes you shudder.

seungcheol though, he’s the type to take his time. slow and unshakable, like he’s gotta be absolutely sure before he makes any big moves. but with you? he’s struggling. there’s this itch under his skin, this need to lock it down, put a ring on your finger, make it official. and yeah, he’d never say it out loud, not yet. he’s got too much pride to come off that desperate. but every time he watches you with his daughter, every time she calls you her “best friend” or shows you the drawing she made of you three as a family, he’s fighting the urge to drop down on one knee and ask you to make it real.

he hides it well, though, keeps up the usual routine. he keeps taking you out on dates, some with his little girl tagging along, others just the two of you. and he’s always scolding you whenever you show up with yet another gift for her.

“y/n, you’ve gotta stop,” he groans, shaking his head as you hand his daughter a set of pink hair clips that match her favorite doll. “she’s gonna expect something every week at this point.”

but there’s that soft look in his eyes, the one that betrays how much he loves seeing you spoil his kid. he’ll roll his eyes, but you notice how he always says “my girls” now, so casually like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you and her. his girls.

one day, he takes you to her father’s day presentation at school. you’re not sure who’s more nervous, seungcheol or his daughter. but when she walks on stage in her tiny tutu, all giggles and shy smiles, it’s seungcheol who completely loses it. you’re sitting beside him, watching him tear up before she’s even started dancing. by the time the performance is over, he’s full-on crying, holding his face in his hands as you rub his back, trying to calm him down.

“it’s just… she’s growing up so fast,” he sniffs, looking up at you with watery eyes, completely unashamed of the tears streaming down his face. and you can’t help but love him more for it, for how much he loves his daughter, for how raw and real he is when it comes to her.

your intimate life? that’s been steady too, despite how busy things get. with a kid around, it’s not always easy to find the time, but seungcheol makes sure you’re never left wanting. there are the quickies, yeah, when his daughter’s asleep and you’ve got the living room to yourselves, stealing a heated make-out session that somehow ends up with your back pressed against the couch cushions, his hands roaming under your clothes while he kisses you senseless.

but if things get too feral, you two will sneak off to the laundry room or the closet, anywhere you can get a little privacy. he’s fast, efficient, but still so thorough, making sure you’re fully satisfied every single time. it’s like, no matter how quick things have to be, he’s always got this laser focus on making you feel good.

but even with all the passion, he’s still got that soft side. sometimes, it’s just enough to make out on the couch, your lips swollen from kissing, the weight of him pressed against you. and in those moments, there’s this quiet comprehension between you two. you don’t need the sex to feel connected—sometimes, just being close is enough.

but it’s getting harder for him to hold back. every time he sees you playing with his daughter, every time she asks if you’re coming over for dinner, he feels it. that pull. that urge to make you his. and one night, after his daughter’s fallen asleep and the two of you are tangled up on the couch, catching your breath after another one of those wild, stolen moments, he looks at you, really looks at you, and the words just fall out of his mouth.

“marry me.”

it’s not planned, not rehearsed. hell, he hadn’t even thought about it until the moment the words slipped out. but once they’re out there, he realizes he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. his hand tightens around yours, and he’s staring at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters, like he’s already bracing himself for the answer.

and all you can think is, finally.

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imaginedisish · 3 months ago

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My Love All Mine (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Not a request. Just a VERY slutty thot I had last night. Inspired by "My Love All Mine" by Mitski. Genuinely, this is one of the filthiest things I've ever written. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan told you to stay in his bed so he could have you when he got home from a mission, but he finds you in the kitchen instead...and he isn’t happy.

Warnings: 18+ Explicit sexual content! MINORS DNI!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Porn without plot (literally), multiple orgasms, (uh...they're in the kitchen? kitchen warning?), overstimulation, softdom!Logan, established relationship, f!reader/afab!reader, Logan is one starving and reckless man, disrespecting Scott, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 2,288 told y'all there's no plot

It’s late—the moon high in the sky. But you can’t sleep—not without Logan next to you. You know he’ll be back soon—he was only sent on a quick diplomatic day mission with Hank. Charles said Logan needed to control his anger, to learn from the best, and he was right. The trip would certainly do him some good. But it was still brutal, waiting in bed for him, alone.

You had thrown one of his shirts on a few minutes ago, refusing to wear anything of your own save for your panties. You wanted to smell him—to find a way to keep him close even while he’s gone. And sure enough, the shirt was all tobacco and pine and musk and Logan.

But it’s not enough. You need more. You need him.

Too bad you’ll have to wait. He asked you to stay in his bed. Wanna fuck you right when I get home, pretty girl. You were happy to oblige earlier, but it’s getting late, and you’re getting bored—impatient. You swing your legs around the side of Logan’s bed and stand, heading out the bedroom door and down the stairs to the kitchen.

A snack could help. A snack could distract you.

The kitchen is dark, and everyone is fast asleep. You rummage through the cabinets, hoping no one can hear you. You find a package of store-bought cookies with a sticky note that has Scott’s name written on it. After considering—albeit very briefly—you tear Scott’s little note off and toss it to the side. You rip open the package. He won’t care if you have a cookie. It’s just one, after all. You grab one, bringing it to your lips—

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” You jump, dropping the cookie on the counter at the sound of the familiar voice. You look across the dimly lit kitchen to see Logan standing in the doorway.

“Lo?” You whisper.

He hums, approaching you slowly, sizing you up. He’s towering over you, caging you in, hands firmly gripping the counter on either side of your waist. “Is this my shirt?” He asks, his hand dropping to brush your thighs, pinching the hem of the tee between his pointer finger and thumb.

“Didn’t know when you’d get back…” You trail off, heat rising to your chest. You can feel that all too familiar ache building between your thighs. “M-missed you.” Logan smirks, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you. “Missed you too, pretty girl.” He hikes the shirt up and around your waist, revealing your panties. “No shorts, huh?”

“N-no,” you pant, suddenly nervous. “Lo, someone might see, someone could—"

“Let them,” he husks, pressing his chest to yours. “No bra either, hm?” He lets the shirt fall as his fingertips slip underneath and trail up to your breasts. He squeezes your tits, messaging them gently, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your nipples.

“Logan,” you whine, struggling to suppress your moans.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Let them know whose girl you are.” That heat between your legs is burning now, flames lighting your every nerve ending on fire.

“Yours,” you whisper. Logan pinches your nipples, his lips crashing down onto yours, swallowing your moans.

He hums. “All fucking mine.” And then he’s grabbing your ass and hoisting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as your bare thighs meet the cold granite countertop. Logan bites your lower lip teasingly, his kisses becoming rushed and frantic. He squeezes your tits once more before he slides down your body to the floor below.

He settles between your legs, one hand on your hip while the other teases your all too-clothed cunt. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, this thumb brushing over your folds. “Fucking soaked, princess,” he grunts, pleased. “All this for me?

“Y-yes,” you choke. “All for you.”

He chuckles against you, his laughter vibrating through your core. “Could smell you when I walked in. Can’t wait to taste you.” You shudder at his words, at the way they make you feel—your heart fluttering in your chest, ready to burst.

Logan hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and yanks them down, throwing them to the side. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands. “Logan,” you whisper. “What if someone sees?”

He answers with a long stripe through your folds up to your clit. “I said I was gonna fuck you when I got home,” he mumbles against you, licking another long stripe. “And you weren’t in my bed, so this’ll have to do.”

His lips wrap around your clit, pulling the bud into his mouth and sucking roughly. You squirm, involuntarily moving your hips away from Logan at the sudden pleasure. Logan smiles against you, wrapping a hand around your back to hold you in place, to give himself more leverage to bury his face deep into your cunt.

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you, pretty girl,” he growls. His tongue swirls around your clit as his free hand teasingly climbs up your inner thigh. His fingers find your folds, stroking gently, spreading your slick. And then two of his fingers are sinking inside you, deep, down to the knuckles.

Your walls flutter around him. Logan slides out and pushes back in deeper, lapping hungrily at your clit. “Tastes so fucking good, princess,” he praises. “Pretty little pussy, so tight.”

You curse under your breath as his thrusts pick up, fingers slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot with every pump. “Lo,” you pant, needy and helpless.

His teeth graze your clit, and you moan, louder than before. You bite your lip, doing your all to hold yourself back. “That feel good, sweetheart?” He does it again, grazing harder this time, taking the bud into his mouth and biting softly. You try to stifle your moan, but it chokes its way out.

“No holding back,” he chides, sucking your clit in between sentences. “Let them know who’s making you feel this good. Want everyone to know who you belong to.”

“Logan,” you hum, his fingers dragging against your walls, scissoring inside you. You’re already so close, clenching and contracting around him. “I-I…” but you can’t get the sentence out, can’t even make a coherent thought.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” Logan demands, relentlessly lapping at your clit, pumping in and out fast and hard. “What do you need?”

“Y-you…” you murmur. “I’m s-so close,” you finally spit out.

Logan tugs you closer, forcing himself deeper as he draws soft circles into your back. “Gonna get you there, princess,” he husks, his tongue flicking your clit. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, wanna taste it.”

“F-fuck, Logan,” you stutter. He’s plunging deeper still, slipping in a third finger. And that’s when you feel it. The tension snaps. Heat rolls through you, spilling out of you. He’s still sucking on your clit, savoring the taste of you as you let go for him.

You’re a trembling mess, thighs shaking as you ride out your orgasm. “That’s it, I’ve got you,” he soothes in between laps. His pumps slow as you come down from your high. His thumb strokes your back comfortingly. He pulls his fingers from you, but his face is still buried inside your cunt, his tongue lapping ravenously.

He’s a man starved, showing no signs of stopping. You reach out, running your hands through his hair, dragging your nails across his scalp. He grunts against you, the bass of his voice going straight to your core. “Logan,” you whisper. His teeth nip at your clit, and you jolt, still overstimulated from your first orgasm. But he isn’t taking the hint. “Logan,” you call again. He still doesn’t move.

“I said you weren’t going anywhere,” he pauses, licking a long, slow stripe through your folds, looking up at you under lust-filled eyes. “Until I’m finished.” His fingers are prodding at your entrance again. “And darlin’,” he grunts, sliding three fingers back inside. “I’m not finished yet.”

He’s pumping with more vigor now, more force. It’s already too much; already more than you can take. His tongue circles your clit, the pressure rocking you to your core. You’re a whimpering mess as he thrusts into you, moaning his name, praying to him like he’s a god.

“Lo,” you mumble. “I’m a-already…” You throw your head back, fucked out beyond belief.

“I know, pretty girl,” he coos between flits, his fingers slamming into you. “You gonna give me another one? You gonna let me taste your come again?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking roughly.

“Good girl,” he mutters against you, your walls contracting around him at his praise. He can feel you squeezing him; he knows full well what he’s doing to you, and just how close you are. He smirks against your cunt. “Such a good fucking girl for me.”

And with one more thrust, you’re coming undone around him. It’s more forceful this time, sudden and uncontrolled. You know Logan likes you like this, quivering underneath him; because of him.

He’s slowing down again, his fingers setting a lazy, dragging pace until they stall inside you. Your eyes flutter shut as he slides out. His tongue laps once more before he pulls away from you.

You open your eyes, leaning back on your forearms, watching as Logan stands. He brings his fingers to his open mouth and stuffs them inside, sucking, savoring the taste of you, and then pulling them out with a pop. Your walls flutter around nothing at the sight.

“You taste so fucking good, pretty girl,” he huffs. He grabs your hips, yanking them just over the counter. He steps in between your legs, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the kitchen floor. He’s unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his zipper, shoving the denim down his legs along with his boxers.

You sit up, reaching out towards him, but Logan pushes you down against the counter. He pins your hands above your head with one hand, while his other guides his cock to your entrance. “You gonna let me fuck you into this counter, sweetheart?” He hovers over you, his eyes tracking your every move.

“Y-yes,” you whine. “N-need you, Lo.”

And then he’s slamming into you, down to the hilt. He’s filling you up and splitting you open with a single thrust. You’ll never get used to just how big he is, no matter how many times he fucks you.

“Fuck,” he growls, swallowing your moans with a kiss. “Feels so good, so tight, pretty girl.” He pulls out and plunges back in, deeper this time. “Thought about you all day, beautiful.”

“Th-thought about you too, Lo,” you whine as he builds his pace. His hand leaves his cock and finds your clit, stroking the bud gently with his thumb. You arch your back at the touch, your chest pressing against his.

“Needed this fucking pussy,” he grunts, his hips snapping into yours. “Need you. Always need you.” His words alone could send you over the edge. His thumb circles around your core, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls.

He’s hovering over you, still pinning your wrists down to the counter, offering him stability and balance. He pounds into you, hitting that sweet spot with every pump. You know you can’t last much longer, not with Logan’s lips at your ear, whispering sweet praises. So fucking good. Feels perfect, always so perfect. He’s right. He fits inside you like you were made for each other, like it was always meant to be this way.

Your walls squeeze him tightly, threatening to let go, to come crashing down around him. He ruts into you, hips rocking against yours. He adds more pressure to your clit, his thumb stroking faster, harder. “Lo,” you call out. “C-close again,” you stammer.

“Can feel you, beautiful,” he coos. “Gonna take care of you, don’t worry.” You can feel his pace faltering, growing sloppier. He’s close, too—not far behind. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, pretty girl. Know you can do it.”

“F-fuck,” you stammer as he flicks your clit, circling roughly. He’s throbbing as he slams into you, hit after hit. “Logan,” you whine. “I’m gonna—”

It happens all at once. You’re crashing, pleasure raging through your body. It tears through you, burning, spreading. Logan is right behind, filling you up, coming deep inside as you clench down around him. He releases your hands from his pin and shifts so that he’s pulling you into his chest as you finish. You’re sitting up, slumping against him, still riding out your orgasm.

He pumps in and out a few more times until he’s still inside you. He strokes your clit gently, soothingly, letting you down easy from your peak. He pulls out, his arms wrapping around your back and tugging you closer. He holds you tightly, limp in his arms.

You rest your head in the crook of his neck, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple. “Missed you,” he whispers, all soft now. His cocky attitude is gone—his needs satiated. Now he’s all gentle kisses and soothing rubs up and down your back.

“Missed you more,” you answer, smiling as you look up at him.

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t think that’s possible, sweetheart.” His fingers trace shapes into your back. “And princess?” He mumbles. You nod against him. “Don’t think I’m finished with you just yet.”

Your heart thumps in your chest.

“Never gonna be finished with you.”

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#Logan Howlett x reader #Wolverine x reader #James Logan Howlett x reader #Logan Howlett x reader smut #Wolverine x reader smut #James Logan Howlett x reader smut #Logan Howlett smut #Wolverine smut #James Logan Howlett smut #Logan Howlett x you #Wolverine x you #James Logan Howlett x you #Logan Howlett x you smut #Wolverine x you smut #James Logan Howlett x you smut #Logan Howlett imagine #Wolverine imagine #James Logan Howlett imagine

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littlelamy · 1 month ago

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i luv shopaholic reader🛍️how about when she comes back him from a long day of shopping she makes rafe sit down and look at everything she got bonus if barry happens to be there😭

a/n: i am happy you love her! i was so scared to write out the ask so i feel so much better know so many people like shopaholic reader! 😝thank you for sending a request 🤍

you push open the door with a grin, arms heavy with bags from your long day out. the living room lights cast a warm glow, and you spot rafe lounging on the couch, his long legs stretched out, one arm lazily draped over the backrest. barry is there too, slouched next to him, probably running his mouth as usual.

rafe’s eyes land on you immediately, that familiar smirk playing on his lips. "well, well, look who’s back," he drawls, glancing at the mountain of bags in your hands. "how much damage did you do today?"

you step into the room, dropping your bags with a dramatic sigh. "enough," you tease, leaning down to start rummaging through your purchases. "and now you get to sit here and admire all the amazing things i got."

barry chuckles from the other side of the couch. "oh, this should be good. let’s see what you got for pretty boy over here."

rafe rolls his eyes, shifting in his seat. "barry, shut up."

you pull out the first item, a sleek black dress that you’re particularly excited about, holding it up against your body and giving a little twirl. "so… what do you think? date night material?"

rafe’s gaze darkens, his eyes raking over you slowly. "definitely. though i’d prefer if you weren’t wearing anything at all."

you toss the dress at him, heat creeping up your cheeks. "behave."

rafe catches the dress, his smirk widening as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "come here and i might."

barry snickers. "damn, she’s got you real bad, huh?"

ignoring barry, you pull out a pair of shoes next. "these? i bought just because i knew they’d drive you crazy."

rafe’s eyes flick down to the strappy heels, and you can see the flicker of approval in his gaze. "put ‘em on."

"you wish." you flash him a playful smile, slipping the heels back into the box. "maybe if you’re good."

barry throws his head back, laughing. "this is better than i thought. i’m staying."

rafe’s eyes narrow at barry, but he turns his attention back to you, a more dangerous edge to his voice. "you really gonna make me sit here and watch you play dress-up all night, or are you gonna come over here and give me a real show?"

you walk closer, your eyes locking with his, the tension crackling between you. "a real show, huh?" you lean down just enough so that your lips are inches from his. "what do i get out of it?"

rafe’s hand moves to your waist, pulling you the rest of the way until you're sitting in his lap. "you’ll get more than you can handle."

barry rolls his eyes. "okay, i’m outta here before it gets x-rated."

you laugh, but the sound fades as rafe's hand slides up your thigh, his lips brushing against your ear. "now, show me what else you bought, or i’ll lose interest real fast."

you smirk, giving him a teasing look. "oh, i don’t think you’re gonna lose interest anytime soon."

taglist (if you want to be added comment below): @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @wniektty

#rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #barry obx #rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #dark rafe cameron

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un-lawliet · 6 months ago

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“Overheard.”

— in which you practice your confession to him, and he hears.

“Satoru... I like you.”

Falling in love is hard.

You throw your head back in exasperation, a sigh pushing past your lips and into the emptiness of your room.

“Satoru,” You begin again, glaring at your reflection, “I think if the Earth exploded tommorow I would- No that’s pathetic!”

But falling in love with an enigma such as Satoru Gojo is harder.

Especially when he was your Co-Worker and friend, and not one for blind vulnerability in any capacity.

Something you were devastated by perfectly ok with!

You place your thumb in your mouth and chew on the nail, frustrated at your lack of articulation.

Your lingering stares, and pathetic attempts to subtly flirt with him, appeared to backfire in a mirage of deflection from the sorcerer.

Leading you to the bitter conclusion that your feelings were entirely unrequited.

And that’s fine.

Everything is fine.

You would be fine.

…

You turn back to the mirror, lifting your head up and throwing on a smile.

“Gojo- No- Satoru, me and you? What about it? You in?”

God. You sound insane.

Even worse you sound desperate.

You thought your feelings for Gojo would dissipate with time, that you would realise that they stemmed purely from admiration and would vanish as fast as they first appeared.

But as you grew closer to Gojo, your feelings grew too.

Culminating into him, holding your hand to reassure you after a mission went askew.

Holding it.

With no barriers. No infinity.

His hand was warm, the palm soft with years of fighting without touch.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it ‘kay?” He had said, cooing at you as you furiously wiped frustrated tears from your eyes.

“Just focus on getting stronger, yea? You’ll be fine.”

And now you were fantasising your confession to the man, like you were 16 years old again, pouting about an unreturned crush.

One touch and you’re helpless to your own feelings, your own heart.

How childish…

You shake your head.

What did it matter anyway? You were never going to say it to him, you can let yourself have your own, embarrassing fun.

You grin, and resume your position before the mirror.

“Satoru, I really, really like you.”

You tilt your head.

“No that sounds wrong..uh…Gojo I like you..like a lot- But you don’t need to say anything I just wanted you to know.”

Placing your hands on your hips, you assess out loud; “I wonder which one would sound better..”

“I liked the first one best.”

You nod, lost in thought, “Me too, sounds more person-”

Oh God.

Oh please God no.

Slowly, you move your eyes from your face in the reflection to the door, where Gojo stands, leaning against the frame, a smug look on his face.

Your face flushes and you almost trip over your heel as you spin to face him, eyes wide and mouth parted.

“G-Gojo!” You force out, your heart racing in your chest, your hands trembling against your sides.

He gestures, his sunglasses sliding down his nose ever so slightly with his movements.

“You not gonna continue?” He asks, like he didn’t almost just cause you heart palpitations, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

Your words fail you, and you’re left gaping at him, wishing the building would collapse and crush you beneath it, away from his stupidly pretty eyes.

He laughs, his face lighting up as he watches you flounder for a response, a reason, anything to justify your absurdism.

When you resort to turning back around, unable to face him, hoping he would just vanish from the room, he shakes his head and walks towards you.

“Hey.” Gojo says gently, pinching the skin of your shoulder lightly, trying to coax you into turning around.

“Y/N c’mon, Iook at me.”

You want to die.

You actually think you might just drop dead.

This was never the plan- You were never supposed to-

Gojo isn’t patient.

You remember this when you’re spun around to face him, nearly jumping at how close he is to you.

You find your voice amongst your apologies, and they fall out of you like water collecting rain.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say any of that, I was being stupid- Oh my God I’m so sorry.”

You hang your head in childish shame, refusing to meet his eyes.

Gojo finds himself frowning.

And your chin is raised back to his gaze by his fingers, an usually serious look in his eyes as he observes you.

“What are you apologising for hm?” He sticks out his tongue, “For falling for me?”

You push his chest, your face burning.

“Don’t say it like that.”

“What? It’s not true?”

“It’s not.”

Gojo blinks at you from over the top of his sunglasses, before taking his hand and patting your head.

“So if I ask you to join me for lunch…You’d say no?”

“What? No of course not!”

Your response is too fast, too desperate, and you freeze as he laughs, humiliated.

“I thought as much.” Gojo replies, leaning down to look you in your eyes.

And he’s so pretty up close, so earnestly perfect that you can barely stand it.

“Say it again yea?” He all but whispers, his voice devoid of cockiness, you’re almost certain he sounds as desperate as you.

You refuse to think too much.

“What?” You reply, dumbly.

“Your practice, I want to hear it again.”

“Gojo I-”

“Satoru.” He corrects, his eyes crinkling with his grin, you can feel his breath on your face and you hold yourself back from leaning towards him.

You’re silent for a moment, before he tilts his head, nodding at you to continue.

It’s ok.

“Satoru,” You start, breaking eye contact with him as you look down at your fidgeting hands, “I like you.”

And you feel so unbelievably childish, at your nerves.

You feel weak to his never failing gaze.

Until he pokes your nose softly with his finger, and leans down to reply, too close, he’s far too close.

“Yea?” He echoes, “You like me?”

You nod, helpless, “So much Satoru.”

And then you feel it.

His lips on yours.

Oh.

And it’s wonderful, it’s all consuming and it’s him.

And you kiss back, feeling his hands on your face, and encasing you, holding you.

Gojo tilts your head up, and you can’t help but gasp, letting him devour you.

He tastes of cherries and sugar, his mouth as warm as his grasp, as he brings you closer.

“God baby.” He mumbles into your mouth, “You have no idea.”

He sounds frantic you think.

You pull away to look at him, and giggle when he follows you, trying to recapture your lips with his, pouting, tracing the sides of your temples with a finger.

You’re both breathless.

And you take the opportunity to be bold.

You press a kiss to his jaw, ignoring the racing of your poor heart.

Gojo smirks, a dumb elated expression on his face as he pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of yours. Blocking your view of his face as he whispers.

“Think it goes without saying.” You hear him say, slowly, “But I like you too Y/N.” He mocks, his voice soft.

And you cling to his shirt, and press your fingers into his back as a response, trying to mark him as yours instantaneously.

He laughs again, before pulling away to hold you at an arms length, looking down at you, his face beautiful, and yours.

“Lunch then? So we can talk about this properly?”

“I’d like that.” You say, your eyes in hearts.

He winks at you, and pulls you to walk with him, leading you out of the room.

You lean against him allowing yourself a moment of vindicated clarity.

He’s warm.

So, so warm.

Feel free to leave a request <3

Masterlist <3

A/N- i hate my life. i’m trying not to spoil anything for anyone, but chapter 261 has ruined my life! i wrote this just to make myself better and because a lovely anon asked me to write something comforting and fluffy <3 thank u for reading i love u i love u i love u and i hope everyone is ok <3

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #jjk leaks #gojo satoru x reader #jjk #gojo comfort #hurt/comfort #i miss you gojo #gojo fluff #gojo smut

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irndad · 2 months ago

Text

don't date coworkers- s.r.

a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k

She’s really, really good at talking to people.

It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is.

She’s good at talking to him.

She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take.

Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life.

It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window.

Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea.

“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”

She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass.

“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?”

He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her.

“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner.

“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing.

“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”

If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then.

He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes.

She doesn’t date coworkers.

He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen.

She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible.

“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.”

Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked.

Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who.

He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her.

She doesn’t date coworkers.

“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”

“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”

“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”

“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”

It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled.

___________________________________

Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way.

“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers.

“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek.

“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder.

She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.

Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.

“Are you okay, boy-genius?”

“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”

She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to.

Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.

It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.

She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his.

He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like.

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.

“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.

“Like, at a bar or something.”

“But you hate bars.”

“That’s why I said or something!”

Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”

It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh.

“I don’t think so, Spence.”

“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“

“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”

It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned.

“What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”

“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”

She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying.

“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Obviously!”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.

“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much.

“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”

When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader

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mellowwillowy · 4 months ago

Text

Being a livestock for a vampire has never sounded good until you were kidnapped by a vampire as his spouse.

TW: Yandere, NSFW, SH, and massacre

The vampire was intrigued by the puny human he ran into when he was walking around the river in the morning, testing his new potion and spell that would keep him immune to sunlight.

What was once a plan to kidnap you as one of his livestock turned into a moment where you had to nurse him because he suddenly dropped his whole weight onto you, face blistered from the sunlight.

“You are awake now.”

Your voice stirred him awake more than ever. His once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. He didn't remember having anyone in his manor.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and he defensively squinted his eyes. You raised both of your hands, “You passed out right behind me and I had to drag you all the way from the riverbank to my cottage.”

The curtain was drawn close suspiciously, not allowing any light to filter inside the bedroom. Did you know he was a vampire already?

“Was it an allergic reaction?”

“Huh?” he asked, baffled.

“Your face was blistered because it was the only part of you that was exposed. Nonetheless, you healed really fast so there was no need for any extensive care from my herbs. You were only out for a day.”

He started to feel his face, aside from patches here and there, there was nothing wrong with it.

“Ah yes, let me get the hand mirror for you—”

Just before you could stand up, his hand grabbed yours and held you on the spot immediately. If you were to realize he had no reflection.

“Can you help me stand and get me to the kitchen instead? I'm quite thirsty since I haven't drunk in a day.”

You stared at his eyes and glanced at his pale hand. It took you seconds before you agreed to him and supported him by slinging his arm over your shoulder and walked toward the kitchen downstairs.

His eyes scanned through your cottage, it was mainly dominated by white, ornaments, furniture, trinkets, and even flowers.

“You must have really loved white, considering even having flowers that can't grow in this land.” Yulian glanced at the potted flowers. Lilies of the Valley, daisies, baby’s breath, and lilies.

At that, you only hummed and sat him down on one of the chairs. You placed a cup of water for him and returned to the sink to prepare him what he assumed to be breakfast, judging from how bright it was outside the window.

Mindlessly staring into the window, he accidentally hissed from the sunlight reaching his bare-handed hand, alerting you of his discomfort.

“Oh dear, what happened?”

Yulian flinched at the endearment term you spoke before he regained his composure.

“Nothing, I just accidentally bit my tongue.” he lied as he tried to cover his blistered hand. You nodded and turned your focus back to the breakfast you were preparing.

“Are you allergic to dairies?” you asked him. “No.”

“Thought you were one unlucky man, it seems like you are not immune to light or something like an albino. I'm assuming Your skin is very sensitive to light since you were so covered.”

He only mumbled a few incoherent words before you snapped him out of his trance with a clap of your hands, “So what's your name dear?”

“Alan-” instinctively, the man shut his mouth and took a few seconds of silence before answering you.

“Yulian. My name is Yulian.” “Nice to meet you,” you served him a plate of sandwiches, “I’m the local physician here, you’ll be staying here with me for rehabilitation.”

Yulian raised both of his eyebrows, “But I am not wounded terribly in any way.” “Perhaps not, but this is how I work. Could it be that you are not a local?”

Yulian shook his head.

“Where’s your house? Do you need to go back home to your family immediately? I can stay in your place for a few days to make sure there are no more anomalies.”

Yulian frowned, what a persistent human. It was almost annoying, breaching people’s boundaries just to sate their own curiosities. He could read you that much.

But he agreed to stay in your cottage nonetheless.

𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

But you had always been attentive, drawing the curtain for him when he walked out of his bedroom. Offering to hold the umbrella for him when he wanted to walk.

What was once a plain bedroom was slowly adorned by flowers, mainly baby’s breath.

The food you made or bought was also not bad. They were decent for a human but not a vampire. Sometimes he had to mask his distaste to any food that consisted of onions.

It was not easy to sneak out of the cottage since you were sometimes awake and roamed around the cottage.

But it was a rather peaceful life. There was bustling sounds and noises from the cottage, unlike his dead and dark manor.

It was bright in your cottage but it didn't hurt him in the slightest bit. Was it because it was a ‘White House’?

𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔.

If there was something he disliked from you then it had to be your silver ring. Whenever you touched him with your hand ring, you would sometimes graze his skin with your ring.

He tried not to hiss but there were occasions when it was unbearable, just like when you were compressing him and felt his temperature.

Unlike in a few cases where he could hide his blisters, it was visible that his forehead was bleeding from the contact.

It was alarming for both of you, paranoia and fear downed him as he suspected you were testing him while shock and suspicion flashed onto your face.

There was a rift but Yulian was a great reader, he knew you did not mean anything bad and decided to lie his way out again. Alas, it's harder this time.

Another thing he didn't like about you was how you could be ignoring him for a whole day sometimes. It could be something interesting that got your whole attention or another patient coming.

Perhaps he was simply unamused by the idea of a lesser being taking away your attention from him.

𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔.

You often strolled around the riverbank and forest, collecting herbs and wildflowers, sometimes walking down toward the village to buy daily necessities.

You didn't allow him to follow you at first, making him have to secretly follow you out of boredom and partial curiosity.

But upon week later, Yulian started to show you his interest in going out with you. It took him lots of convincing that he wouldn't fall sick from this and you reluctantly agreed to it.

For the first time, he could finally walk side by side with you instead of following you from the dark. It almost felt like his still heart was beating from excitement.

Apparently, all the villagers recognized you as a talented physician. They were all friendly to you and would do anything to help you as well.

It made something within him sting. Was it envy that he wasn't treated just as nice?

𝑽𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚’𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.

Sometimes the two of you would sing under the moonlight as a pastime. Sometimes you would come to his bedroom at night and converse with him until he pretended to fall asleep.

Sometimes you would diagnose him. Sometimes you would tell him stories of your life. Sometimes you would ask him questions about his life. Sometimes you would cry in your bedroom.

He couldn't help but wonder what sorrowed your frail heart.

Sometimes he would enter your bedroom and observe your patterned breathing while you were asleep. It was almost as if the role was reversed. He was observing you out of curiosity and perhaps, adoration.

A human’s lifespan is as short as a stick. Not only couldn't they live long, but they were also vulnerable to almost everything.

Yulian brought his hand to cup your cheek, squeezing it just a bit before his fingers traced down toward your neck, feeling your jugular vein pulsating in rhythm with your heart. You were alive but he wasn't. You were loved but he wasn't. You were adored but he wasn't.

Was it envy that brought his fangs close to your neck? Was he envious of your life? Or was he simply being unreasonable? You stirred awake from your sleep, eyes adjusting to the moonlight that lit your bedroom. No one was in sight and the water you placed on your nightstand remained warm despite the chilling temperature.

Perhaps the envy in him was never directed at you.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚.

The only reason why Yulian was still resting in your cottage was because of his self-sabotaging. You were a physician and he was a patient, unless he had a logical reason to stay in your cottage then he had to excuse himself.

It started with how Yulian started to fake food poisoning, burn himself from the sunlight, fake an anemic, and wound himself with the silver ornaments you had in the cottage.

But Yulian understood it was only a matter of time before your dense self realized that something was wrong and chased him out of your cottage.

Would you scream at him in fury, fear, or disappointment? He thought he was used to rejection already but something changed within him with the time spent living with you.

And he didn't want to betray your trust. You trusted him with your little secret. The secret that you were actually the village's 'Witch'.

Yulian sighed audibly as he walked toward your bedroom, observing it from corner to corner for any anomalies. It had always been a paranoid habit of his. He wanted to make sure nothing dangerous was inside your bedroom or, to be frank, your surroundings.

Yulian walked toward your dressing table and gazed into the mirror. There was not a single reflection of himself, a reminder that he was never supposed to let you live in the first place.

Yet your touch never failed to soothe his stoned heart, it never failed to make him melt under your touch. And your existence did not hunger him in any way unlike the others would.

He had learned to co-exist with you before he realized it, it was too late for him to undo this dependence and bond, let alone feed on you.

Yulian walked out and waited for you to come back from your visit to the local church. As much as he wanted to join you, he couldn't risk getting caught by them.

Hours passed and the sun sank, the moon lit the dark sky and yet not even a single sound of your footsteps approaching the cottage was heard. Yulian dissipated into thin air and teleported to where you were supposed to be but you were nowhere in sight.

The church was eerily silent to human ears but not to an otherworldly being like him. He could hear an ominous chant beneath him. He could smell the sickeningly sweet incense lit beneath him. And he could feel the mark he left on your neck that night beneath him.

The 'Witch' play ends tonight.

You woke up in someone's embrace, the night was lit by the moonlight above you yet there was an unbearable heat nearby.

"You are awake now."

His voice stirred you awake more than ever. Your once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. You didn't remember seeing him.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and you stared at his eyes. He smiled at you, “You passed out amidst the fire and I had to carry you all the way from the village.”

You looked behind his back and saw a huge fire consume the village, the villagers' cries were audible despite the distance. You clutched his black robe, "Wait, no! The villagers, they need me! I need to save them!"

"May I know why?" "Because I'm a Witch, the protector of this village!"

Yulian chortled at your remarks before he smirked, "And yet you let an outsider reside in your cottage for months."

All colors were drained from your face, and your heart sank down; "What do you mean?"

Yulian sat you down on one of the rocks and knelt in front of you, his gloved hand brought your hand ring, "Observe this."

He took off his glove and pressed your ring finger to his palm, the skin blistered from the contact and you instinctively pulled away, "What was that?!"

There was a tale of vampires and you wished he would deny it.

"It was troublesome for me having to avoid the mirrors in your cottage and anything that would reflect." Hand mirror.

"I never really like the dishes you made with onions but I stomach it all because I just couldn't muster the courage to see your sullen face," Onions.

"I really hate strolling when the sun is still up because I have to carry an umbrella with me all the time." Sun.

"Though I must say I don't mind being touched by you with your ring hand because it was worth the pain and trouble." Silver.

You backed away from him and just before your back could hit the grassy ground, his arm prevented you from tumbling back, "And I must say, it took me lots of time to properly mark and make you submit to a contract with me."

Contract?

Yulian cradled your confused body into his chest, the warmth you felt was not emitted from his skin but instead, the fire that devoured all the villagers who had been deceiving you.

All of the shock that weighed upon made you succumb to unconsciousness again, mainly from stress and trauma. Yulian frowned at your limp figure as he stood up and continued walking deep into the forest to his manor.

𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕-𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 '𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆' 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕.

Yulian did not like the hostility that you showed him at all. The ongoing stress and trauma drowned you in the hysteria that would also make you harm yourself. It pained him that he was one of the causes of your hysteria, a hypothetical scenario would sometimes flash across his mind. What if he had not appeared in your life? Then perhaps your heart wouldn't sorrow to this extent.

Yulian tried his best to help you adapt. The once dark and grim manor slowly turned white. The exteriors and interiors were white before you could remember how it originally looked like. Flowers were blooming in the garden to your liking and a potted white flowers near you for you to adore.

While Yulian had the patience to make you warm up to him and face the reality of your life, he did not have the heart to see you suffer for so long. And as much as he wanted to change you into a vampire just like him, he'd rather not have it done unwillingly.

But time was not so kind for your age. The longer he delayed it, the older and frailer you would be.

Alas, luck was on his side when he secluded himself in his room for a long time for the first time you came here. He didn't expect you to find his presence soothing for you.

It appeared that all his efforts had made you think that his action of kidnapping you was just an attempt to save you from the villagers who tricked you into thinking that you were a 'Witch'.

You looked for him, calmly at first then frantically when you suffered from a panic attack. He didn't mean to test you but he knew well deep inside he was hurting you.

Even for a selfish and cold-blooded creature like him, he had to steel his heart before he could see you again. Everything he was feeling after he met you was his first. You brought colors to his monochrome life. You taught him that the smell of a morning was calming. You taught him how to spend his time with pastimes.

He could not find it in his heart to leave your side. It was his first time to feel alive and he was greedy, wanting more of it.

You stood in front of his chamber, waiting for him to open his door instead of avoiding you altogether.

"The servants took great care of you while I was away right, dear?"

Yulian never found the charm in terms of endearment, but whenever you called him 'dear', incomprehensible emotion and feeling surged into him. He still remembered the day you first called him that, it was foreign and weird to him but he didn't find it that bad at all.

You squirmed under his touch, squeezing yourself closer and deeper into his embrace while your hands clenched on the bedsheet. That was not the only thing you were clenching though, for his fingers were knuckle deep inside you.

You tried to form a coherent answer but what came out was simply a blubbering. Tears dripped down from your cheek from the way he curled his fingers, feeling your spot until your toes were curled.

You didn't know that even vampires could feel this much stimulation from sex. You assumed they just reproduced while feeling only half of the pleasure humans could have because of how cold-blooded they were.

You thought they only did it out of curiosity or memories of their past lives, or perhaps from the mood itself instead of doing it for pleasure as well.

Yulian brought his lip to yours, nibbling your lower lip why urging you to open your mouth, allowing his tongue to roam inside you while his fingers did not stop even one bit, drawing multiple orgasms out of you.

You really loved every bit of the man who once tried to kill you. The way his soft fangs felt your skin, pricking it playfully instead of sinking it deep inside your jugular vein and killing you on the spot.

You loved it when he caressed your cheek, you loved how gentle he was when he wiped the tears from your eyelashes.

You loved it when he was inside of you, you loved it when he knew every inch of your body so well to the point he could make you cry out of pleasure effortlessly.

You loved to see his cute face from how fast he came inside you but he never stopped his hip. You loved it when he kissed your face. You loved it when he intertwined both of your hands.

You loved it when he made your insides feel warm and full.

You loved him for severing the illusion of the 'Witch' inside of you. It was undeniable that Yuliad had saved you from the villagers' torturing you for accepting an outsider into your cottage for the first time.

You were simply curious of his condition and yet you were punished terribly for not keeping the said tradition. Yulian knew there was never a tradition, it simply was a doctrine for you who was a prodigy of a physician to save everyone from your village.

You were exiled deep in the forest so that you couldn't learn the life beyond the forest and village.

Yulian knew just as much when he first joined you on your stroll to the village. Everyone treated you differently as though you were a deity and you considered it to be something normal.

It looked normal to him considering they believed in the 'Witch' but Yulian knew better. You were just a human and all of these were just a doctrine from the church. To ensure the prodigy never left the village and was forever loyal to the church.

Spies were sent and he knew the church had probably noticed him as not only a weird outsider but also a vampire. It was unfortunate of you to be dragged into the church's underground and interrogated, forced to drag him to the church and had him staked to death. But you were persistent, you didn't trust them.

Just before Yulian was about to save you, you made a grave mistake of swearing on your name to make a promise with the devil to save you and your companion which was him. He knew you had always been so kind but wasn't that sort of naivety a little bit too much for a stranger like him? Perhaps this was the reason why the church wanted to force a much stronger doctrine onto you.

Their mistake was to not sense the danger that was him earlier. Your flaw was that you were too kind-hearted.

It gave him more reasons to seclude you from the world beyond the White House. His paranoia and obsession growing stronger with each day never seemed to unnerve you who were just a bright soul with a kind heart. A kind heart that was a contrast to his stoned heart.

That alone justified his paranoia of losing you. Surely you understood him right?

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this half-hearted work, I was so motivated to write a damn vampire fic but got writer's block mid-way smh. Happy 7th Anniversary to LIfE Project and 5k to this blog!

#Yulian the Corruption #Yandere x Reader #x GN Reader #Yandere Smut #Yandere Vampire #LIfE Project 5k Celebration #Behold #As promised; Yulian as a vampire #LIfE Project

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tteokdoroki · 10 months ago

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☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt.

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.”

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,” he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend.

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you.

that’s created the very person he loves today.

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.”

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change.

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.”

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.”

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares.

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?”

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.”

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!”

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.”

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely.

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen.

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold.

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

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planetaryupscaled · 4 months ago

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Forbidden Desire

Male x Chaewon x Kim Minjeong (Winter)

Tags: 4k, taboo, oral, breeding, threesome, tw

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“Daddy,” Minjeong said, sweet as ever, “Chaewon is a slut.”

“Noo Daddy!” Chaewon complained, “Minjeong is a liar and a sl-”

“Shush! You’re both bad little sluts who have disturbed my sleep, and did I hear something about a boyfriend?” He slapped his hands under their skirts and gripped their tight asses, both sisters squirmed hard.

“He’s nobody, Daddy. Just... a cute boy from school.”

“Liar,” Chaewon smirked, “She’s trying to get pregnant!”

“Preg- shut up! You were trying the same thing!”

“I’m not gonna let you be the first one, like always!”

The sisters shared a remarkable amount of things, but they constantly fought over who got what. They were old enough to no longer be bent over his knee, yet still fought like children.

But he found a different way to get his cock-hungry daughters to play nice.

“You both know the rules: No boyfriends until you have your own place,” he said. Chaewon and Minjeong’s eyes lit up, though cautious. They had been very naughty after all.

“Are you mad, Daddy?” Minjeong asked. “I just... couldn’t wait to be… a mother.”

“Me neither,” Chaewon whined. He could already feel his daughters’ need to moisten their panties. The same went for her sister. Both were hungry for cock, and more than just a good fucking. He shook his head and began to unclasp his belt.

Daddy’s horny girls needed some lesson.

“You’re both being very bad girls,” he said, dropping his belt on the ground beside his chair and unzipping his jeans. “Getting a boyfriend and not even sharing him like good sisters should...”

“We’re sorry!” the girls said in unison. They were staring at his lap as he fished his cock out of his boxers.

“Not enough girls. You also interrupted my sleep. So, you two will have to make me feel better about that.”

“Yes Daddy!” Chaewon was the fastest to drop to her knees and kiss the head of his cock. Minjeong was close behind, scowling as her sister’s lips wrapped around her father’s cockhead.

“Tch, greedy slut...” she mumbled, edging her way beneath her sister to kiss her father’s balls.

“Mwah! That’s right, Daddy’s mine, just like your boy- unngh” He pulled Chaewon hard, bulging her overfilled throat out with every inch of his cock.

“Enough bitching,” he growled before letting go of his mischievous daughter.

“D-Daddy, that’s mean,” The girl coughed and sputtered despite the big smile on her face.

“That’s right, Daddy can be mean. Now girls,” He wrapped his hands around both of their necks and drew them in until their noses touched either side of his cock. “You’ll both share Daddy’s cock and be nice to each other. Understand?”

“Yes, Daddy...” They said in unison.

“Good. Now kiss it,” His pressed their lips against either side of his stiffened cock. Neither of his girls resisted. They worked his shaft immediately, their soft mouths kissing and licking either edge of their father’s twitching cock. Their matching hair framed their faces, both close-eyed and revelling in the taste of the thing that helped make them years ago. And as they both rose to the mushroomed head their lips connected and their tongue wrestled around it.

“Good girls...” He petted their gently bobbing heads. The animosity between them initially fueled their almost violent kissing, as if battling to get more of his cock into them.

However, the mirror-match quickly devolved into a sweet, lustful make-out session that only loving sisters could appreciate. Their little mewls, smacking lips, and roving tongues turned on their father with ferocity.

“Mmm, isn’t that how you two should always be?”

The girls cast their azure eyes up at him and nodded without pausing their ministrations. They kissed while their father’s cock glazed their mouths with spurts of precum that drooled down their chins. It slopped down to their low-cut tops and clung fast to them in sticky strings.

They were almost messy enough to coax the cum out of his balls right there. But he couldn’t let that happen just yet. Reluctant to end their harmonious dick-worship, he peeled his gasping daughters away.

“Feeling better?” he asked. His girls nodded, their meek smiles and chins dripping with familial juices.

“Daddy, I’m horny... I want a baby,” Minjeong confessed.

“Me too,” Chaewon added, “Will you let Minjeong’s boyfriend knock us up now?”

“No,” He replied. Before his crestfallen angels could even whine, he scooped them up under each arm. They squealed and squirmed as he carried them off to his bedroom where he’d taken them many times before.

They weren’t even trying to get away, not even when he tossed nymphs onto his bedsheets and tore open the fronts of their blouses.

“No boyfriends, you bad little girls.”

“But Daddy…” Minjeong scowled as her nubile tits bobbled free in the air.

“No ‘buts’ about it, from you either,” He shot a look at his other pouting daughter.

“But I want a baby Daddy...” Chaewon said. “Why won’t you let us make you grandkids already?”

“Because Daddy doesn’t want grandkids,” he said, planting his hands on their flat bellies. “Daddy want’s more daughters from his bad little girls. Understand?”

They did, and simultaneously stripped their soaking panties from their fertile hips and flipped their mini-skirts up over their exposed bellies. They knew the drill, but this time their hips almost shivered with excitement. Throwing his clothes next to his girls’, he dragged them down the bed until their legs dangled over the edge.

“Daddy, I want to have your baby first!” Minjeong spread her thighs wide.

“No, Daddy! Knock me up first!” Chaewon bucked her hips and spread even wider.

“Hey, you’re the one who-”

“Shhh…” He grabbed both girls and sank his fingers into their wet holes. Both almost sucked him in all the way to his knuckles — their almost identical pussies are desperate for incestuous satisfaction. Despite their squirming and moaning, he began to pump them.

Minjeong gripped her bare chest right beneath her breasts, her crossed arms squishing her tender tits together into such an inviting cleavage. Her tight pink nipples perked up, tightened by the cool air, and popped easily into her Daddy’s hungry mouth.

“Ooh Daddy...” Minjeong mewled. “Daddy’s sucking them...”

“Get used to it,” He said, lathering his girl’s perky tits with his tongue, “My babies are always hungry for these little things.”

“Daddy,” Chaewon said in a sing song voice, pressing her tits against her sister, “I need to get used to it too!”

“Yes you do,” He said, leaving his first daughter’s tits shimmering with his lavish spittle before doing the same on his second. Chaewon squirmed and moaned, a little louder than Minjeong. But that didn’t last long. He curled his fingers inside her pussy till her whines melted away into a lewd moan, one that was matched by her sister when he gave her tit a little bite.

“Daddy! Babies don’t bite,” Chaewon said.

“Well, I do,” he raked her other nipple with his teeth. That set her pussy ablaze, squirming and crushing in around his far-reaching fingers. The sisters bucked their hips in tandem against their father’s palm, firing up their fertile cores till they simply couldn’t be ignored.

“Mmmph,” Minjeong bucked helplessly against her father’s hand, “Daddy, you’re so deep...”

“Yeah? I don’t think its deep enough,” he said. The slurping of his fingers escaping her pussy was quickly drowned by her deep moan, a moan muffled by his fingers dripping with her own juices. Their beautiful eyes glued onto him as he lined his erection up with Minjeong’s tightness.

“Daddy...” Minjeong bit her lower lip, “We’re ovulating today...”

“Daddy knows,” he said as he sank his cock into Minjeong’s bare pussy. The girl moaned and arched her back into the pillows while her envious sister watched. Chaewon’s inner walls clasped tight around his fingers, mimicking the way Minjeong’s love tunnel rippled around his cock. They were sisters after all.

The headboard began thumping against the wall. He wasted no time in thrusting his dick deep into his virginally tight daughter. Just the same, Minjeong huffed and whined as her tiny teen pussy got stretched out. The air began to fill with the smucking sounds of sisters’ slits being filled and unfilled, harder and faster.

“Ooh daddy… you’re so big and — umph!”

“Bigger than her boyfriend,” Chaewon added, rubbing her own pussy besides her father’s hand and watching her sister’s slit getting stuffed. “It’s not fair... I can take daddy’s cock better...”

“Oh can you?” he groaned and pulled out of his writhing Minjeong with a slurp. The sad little whine on the left was quickly drowned out by the lewd yowl from the right. Chaewon braced herself half against the bed and half against her sister.

“Ah! D-daddy, go slow...” she begge, but he shook his head.

“Your sister lubed me up nicely,” he said, slapping his juisce dripping cock against Chaewon’s hesitant slit. “So you’re going to take Daddy all at once honey…”

“But Daddy I’m…”

“Daddy’s slut,” he growled and shoved himself in deep. Chaewon howled and squeezed her sister tight, shaking as her body struggled to take him in all the way. Unable to resist her father’s strength and lust. He grinned alongside Minjeong as they watched the once-spirited girl lose her confidence and composure.

“Thank your sister for all that slippery cum, honey.” he said, pounding Chaewon forbidden tight hole with hard thrust of his hips.

“Th-thank you…ohh!” Chaewon managed as her entire petite frame jilted with each fall of his hips. The father turned to his other girl, her legs still spread, showing off her own creaming pussy.

“Hear that Minjeong? Now give your nice sister a kiss...” his cock throbbed as Minjeong nodded, the blush on her cheeks matching her sister’s. Chaewon’s moans disappeared into her sister’s soft lips, the light smacks and suckling sounds nearly pushed him over the edge.

“OH! Daddy… your cock slipped out,” Chaewon whined.

“Mmm, my turn again,” Minjeong raised her leg like a bunny in heat, draping it over her still-whining sister.

“No… Daddy fucked you longer. I want more!”

“You aren’t as good a fuck as me. How do you think I got a boyfriend, huh?”

“You stole my last —”

“That’s enough,” Robert grabbed Minjeong and yanked his teasing slut daughter over her sister. Belly to belly, his girls smooshed together as he pressed their waggling hips together. Both girls squealed and writhed, their sweaty skin gleaming as their legs framed their pussies, ready for their Daddy to use.

“You’ve both been very bad girls,” he said, slapping his cock first against Minjeong’s slit before doing the same to Chaewon’s below. “If you don’t play nice with each other, you won’t get any of me tonight.”

“No, please!” Chaewon moaned.

“Daddy! We’ll be good, we promise!” Minjeong added. Both voices shivered with desperation, their bodies left stranded halfway to climax. Now their vulnerable pussies sopped with need. Minjeong’s pink slit drooled onto her sister’s as he thrust his cock between their slippery mounds and sensitive clits.

“Good, now be good sisters while Daddy fucks you...”

Their hair tangled together, dampened already by the heat of one another, and their unprotected pussies yielded nicely to the thrusts of their father’s cock. He couldn’t remember a time when his daughters were so quiet together, with only the little smooches and whines coming from their lips. They wouldn’t stay quiet for long.

“That feels so good, Daddy...” Minjeong moaned.

“Put it in me — I mean us, Daddy!” Chaewon begged.

He couldn’t agree more. The edge of his shaft grazed both girls back and forth until their waggling, humping hips threatened to crush his cock in the frothy mess he made between them. Both of their gaping holes were so inviting, but it was Minjeong who got it first.

“D-Daddy — oh fuck!” she stammered, her girlish hole struggling to accommodate her father’s manly girth. Minjeong’s fingers gripped her sister’s tits as she lifted back to look behind her, but he grabbed the curious daughter’s hair with a firm grip.

“Keep your eyes on your sister,” he commanded as he pumping her love hole with a steady pace. “Tell her what Daddy’s doing to you.”

“Nghh okay Daddy... umph, ahh... Daddy’s filling me up so much sis...”

“Yeah… I can feel his balls hitting my clit,” Chaewon gulped between her huffing breaths. “And Daddy’s cock, it’s... it’s bulging your belly, I can feel it against mine. Ughh, its sliding so far up, and then back down and...”

He pressed his cock back into Chaewon, spearing into the moaning daughter with his cock dripping with her sister’s juices. He shoved two fingers back into his mewling girl on top, keeping her tightness stretched for when he would come to fuck her again.

“I feel it too, Chaewon! He’s fingering me. Daddy’s fingering me! Oh my god, your belly sis! Come on, Dad! Put it back in—Mmm…”

Minjeong was getting fuck-drunk, and so was Chaewon. Both huffed and panted like bunnies in heat. Because they were desperate to be bred, and their father was determined to fill his sweet girls.

He went back and forth, filling his girls. While pounding into Minjeong, his balls slammed into Chaewon’s quivering pussy lips. When he rutted into Chaewon, he kneaded Minjeong’s petite ass. Sisters’ legs entwined and grappled back around their father’s jutting hips, bringing him closer and closer as their ecstasy increased. It was Chaewon who began to tense up first.

“Daddy, I’m... I’m getting close.”

“Me too. I’m going to cum on your cock daddy…”

Minjeong tensed up with her sister, the two hugging each other tight and kissing each other in blind passion. It didn’t matter that they missed half the time, kissing the cheek, chin, and nose. Their eyes were rolling back in their heads, their minds racing through the clouds to the pounding rhythm of the headboard slamming againts the wall.

“That’s it, cum for daddy girls…” He bore down, pressing them both into the bed and watching their blushing faces mewl and moan beside one another.

“Cum hard so that Daddy’s sperm can produces some pretty babies in you both.”

“Oh Daddy… give me a baby!” Minjeong wailed.

“Knock me up, Daddy!” Chaewon screamed.

And he did exactly that. With a roar, he gripped their fertile hips tightly and buried his spurting cock inside Minjeong. Ropes of potent spurt were blasted into his topmost daughter’s pussy, splattering the teen’s fertile womb with incestuous babymakers. The heat of his gooey load set her off like an overdrawn bow.

“He-he’s cumming inside me!!” Minjeong screamed, her pussy collapsing into orgasmic pulses. The senseless girl writhed on top of her sister, clawing, kissing, and hugging her tightly. He wasn’t done, though. Despite the death-grip pull of Minjeong tight pussy, it couldn’t stop him from yanking free and plunging right into Chaewon’s quivering hole in time to shoot inside her as well.

“D-Daddy’s cum is — ughh!” Chaewon couldn’t say anymore as she arched up hard enough to hoist her sister with her bucking. Thick shots of her father’s cum hit her unprotected cervix. Millions of swimmers slammed into her innermost places, the same ones that had made them years ago.

Another healthy globs shot up inside her before he pulled away from his daughter’s wild sex. Jerking himself off with their juice lubricating his cock, He glazed their pussies with the last spurts of his fatherly cum. His girls, sweaty and gasping with their mutual ecstasy, moaned and humped their Daddy’s cum with their rubbing pussies until his incestuous seed stringed and frothed between them.

“Daddy’s cum... It’s so hot” Minjeong sighed.

“Yeah...” Chaewon simply cooed in agreement and pressed her freshly fucked pussy against her sister’s. He caught his breath, his loins still pulsing with satisfied need, and dripped it onto his girls.

“Are you going to be good girls for me now?”

“Yes Daddy,” Minjeong said. “No more boyfriends. Just Daddy.”

“We’re full of Daddy’s babies anyhow!” Chaewon added, sending a giggle through both girls.

“Good...” He sighed.

“But Daddy...” Chaewon pouted and looked up at her father while touching her red rose messy slit. “You came more in Minjeong. I felt it!”

“No! He fucked you longer,” Minjeong replied, “I’ll still have his baby first.”

“No way! I’m going to have twins from Daddy’s extra-fucking!”

“Wahh? Daddy! It isn’t fair! Fuck me till I have twins too!”

“Bad girls,” he growled, unable to hide his smile as he flipped his girls over so Chaewon came out on top. “Daddy’s going to fill you both so full of babies you’ll be grounded for nine months!”

The sisters squealed with delight, waggling their ripe hips at him as the same cum that made them leaked from their fertile cunt.

Both were already going to get knocked up, probably with twins of their own, and the father knew he was just exponentially exacerbating his problems.

But that didn’t stop him from slapping his hardening cock back against their naughty little pussies. He had to be a good Daddy after all.

#chaewon smut #winter smut #kim minjeong smut #le sserafim smut #aespa smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #female idol smut #male reader

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twinksrepository · 3 months ago

Text

Post training workout

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Sylus X F!Reader

CW: Smut, smut with Feelings, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Pain, Foot Massage, Drinking, flirting, Dirty Talk, Grinding, Neck Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Orgasm, Hair-pulling, Condoms, Biting, Clothed Sex, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Big dick, Begging, Rough Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Finger Sucking, Overstimulation, Aftercare

Word count: Roughly 7K

A/N: Sylus keeps saying you need to get better at dodging, and you take him up on his offer for some training. Afterwards, he has a bit of a different workout in mind for you.

I am down bad for this man, and after seeing that workout quality time well this settled in my brain. I'd say I'm sorry, but I am anything but.

Prefer AO3? You can read it here.

You let out a squawk as you find yourself on your back once more looking up at the black ceiling while your chest heaves and the sweat drips down along your neck. “If you think you’re impressing me, Sweetie you’re doing a poor job of it.” You bite your tongue to keep yourself from retorting verbally at him. You’ve lost track of how many times in the last hour Sylus has knocked you on your ass, all under the pretense of training.

The slightest pressure of his foot against yours as he makes a tapping motion against the inside portion of your sneaker. “Back up on your feet, it’s not break time yet.”

You let out a noise of frustration instead of moving, still staring at the ceiling as you try to slow your breathing and catch your breath. “I thought you said you’d help me train, Sylus? This is just you sending me to the floor.”

“It is training.” The blackness in your field of view was replaced by a rather attractive face with a sharp jawline and two garnet eyes staring down at you, the corner of his mouth turned upward just enough to be called a playful smirk. “At this point, I’m not sure how you’ve managed to evade being skewed by wanderers Miss Hunter.” His voice teases as he looks down at you, yet the longer you remain on your back that smirk fades into a look of neutrality. “Get up Sweetie.” There’s no doubting the annoyance in those three short words.

You grumble as his face disappears from overhead but you roll over onto your side in order to get your feet under you before standing. A few rotations of your shoulders and hops in place to try and loosen the bruised muscles along your body. A distraction from the pain racing along your butt and lower back.

“Really?” A single eyebrow raised as he watched you before giving a chuckle, brushing his damp hair away from his eyes. It doesn’t matter how sore you feel, or how fast your heart has been racing, yet that one motion has the tempo increasing. The muscles of your face widened into a grin that you’re sure if you had a mirror you’d see a smile akin to those on the female lead in romance movies when she thinks the heartthrob isn’t looking. “Keep smiling like that Sweetie and you’ll be back where you were in no time.” Too bad this isn’t a movie and Sylus never seems to miss anything.

“I still don’t see how this is training.” Your smile fades as you quirk your nose, sliding your right foot out to take the proper stance with your weight forward and lifting both of your arms so your wrapped fists are in front of you. Just like he had taught you a while back when you had been throwing what you thought were proper punches at the bag hanging in his personal gym.

“Simple. You’re terrible at dodging Sweetie, this is meant to help you get better.”

“You keep knocking me on my ass!” Dropping your hands and losing your pose as you stomp your foot at him. It sounds more like he’s been enjoying seeing you sprawled out on the floor.

“You’re just proving my point.” The moment your guard dropped he sprung, a quick jab to get you to move. At least you could read the flow of his arm to see it’s a feint, shifting your weight and throwing your arms up as you sidestep the sweep of his leg. “Ah, the kitten can learn.” Stepping back with his hands in front of himself before he throws another punch, one you block well aware he’s holding back even as the sting from the impact races down your arm. “I was starting to wonder if that first bit of light sparring when you got me to take a knee was an accident.”

“You’re so funny.” Watching his movements as you remain on the defensive, taking the openings he leaves you aware he’s trying to lull you into a false sense of security. A soft hum of approval as you keep moving, the sweat running down your neck as the bottom of your tied back hair bounces between your shoulders. Your breathing grows more ragged the longer you keep up the momentum of blocking and dodging.

“Just pretend I’m a wanderer as your breathing gets heavier, they won’t let up unlike me.” Smirking as he switches tactics, throwing faster punches. It’s hard to focus when you can see the fine sheen of sweat on his skin fly off as he moves. Precise and quick.

“You know how to let up?” Panting the words as you twist out of the way of another attempt on his part to put you on your back. Grinning as you jab with your right watching those crimson eyes of his on your hand, this time you’re going to put him on his back! A swift surge forward of your left leg to the inside of his to try and hook his inner calf to put him off balance.

Except he clearly saw through your bluff, turning to the side and grabbing your fist in his hand, making use of your moment to let you swing yourself around so your back is pressed against his chest. “I may be merciless, but I stand by my morals of not taking advantage of the weak.” Your shirt is plastered to your back from the liquid pouring from you because of the workout, yet you can feel the fluid trapped in his black tank top seeping into the dry portions. “A kitten needs to play fight in order to learn how to use its claws after all.”

Something in his voice makes you shiver, or it could be the way his breath washes down over the cartilage and cooling the area. As much as you like to banter with him you realize during this entire workout he’s just been playing with you. “You mean I’m covered in bruises for nothing!?”

“Of course not.” Chuckling again Sylus doesn’t let go of your hand, instead dropping his chin atop your head. “You keep reminding me how I can’t go on missions with you when you’re working, if I can’t keep you safe I need to make sure you get better at looking after yourself, Sweetie.”

His words have your slowing heart speeding up again, your stomach clenching in response to the bluntness of it. A reminder that as much as the words he does speak never say it, he does care for you and you’re starting to realize it isn’t just a passing fancy of his. That his feelings run a lot more than skin deep. Parting your lips as you get ready to retort, only for an alarm to start to beep from outside the padded area.

“Times up.” Releasing you at last, you turn to watch his stride towards the device to cease the noise. “You showed some improvements, but you could always do with more training.” Smirking in your direction before his eyes rake over your form. “Now go have a shower.” Tossing a towel from the bench at you that obscures your vision as it unfolds and lands on your head.

“Sylus!” Only to find him gone as you pull the fabric away, huffing as you leave the gym towards the room that serves as yours within his home. “Here’s hoping the hot water helps with my muscles, I’m already starting to hurt.”

As you hobbled your way into the living room, the hot water from your shower hadn’t done anything to help with the tightening of your muscles. If you hurt like this now, you’re not looking forward to what you’re going to wake up to tomorrow. It didn’t help your mood that you could already see the distinct changing of the skin along your butt to signal you had bruises.

Dropping onto the couch with a soft noise of discomfort, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath. Letting your head fall back against the plush fabric, Sylus has good taste and thankfully he finds a certain level of comfort just as important as style.

Hearing the door open you crack an eye open, watching as the man himself strides in with a wine glass in hand taking a sip of the deep maroon liquid. “You look tired Sweetie.” He starts his teasing right away, joining you on the couch close enough to place a hand on your thigh. Even though his touch is light it still elicits another soft noise of pain from your throat and you can’t keep the wince off your face. “I’m surprised, I thought you’d be in better shape.”

As much as his eyes have a hint of concern, nothing else about his demeanor indicates he’s worried. “I’m just not used to using my muscles like that.” It’s the truth, swinging a sword, shooting a pistol. None of those have you using your body the way you had today and you’re starting to realize that was what he had been getting at with his training. Even if you had been on your back a lot more than you had wanted.

“The hunter academy should have more hand to hand combat training then. If someone like you is in such rough shape after a simple workout like that Miss Hunter.” Rolling your eyes as Sylus places his glass down on the stand beside him. Letting out a squeal as you feel the coldness you’ve come to associate with his evol wrap around you, on your back once more except this time your legs are resting against his lap. “Don’t come to expect this sort of treatment in the future.”

You don’t get a chance to question him, your neck arching with the crown of your head hitting the armrest. His fingers dug into a knot you weren’t aware of at the back of your right calf, a dampness forming on your lashes as he kept working the area before the lines of lightning stop racing up your leg. “Wow.” It’s like your brain short circuits as the pain is replaced by relief, those long digits of his moving along the skin of your calf with gentle pressure now.

“That all you have to say?” Shaking his head a little at your answer but his hands don’t stop moving, the heat from his palms sinking into the muscles and you start to relax more in his hold.

“I wasn’t expecting a massage.”

“All our time together and you still seem surprised when I do something nice for you.” Pausing just long enough to take a sip of his drink before he glides his hand along your lower leg. “You wound me, Sweetie.” You wince as he places a bit more pressure than necessary, biting your lip, except it isn’t from the pain. No, it’s to keep yourself from letting out a noise that borders on obscene when your core clenches in response.

Flicking your eyes to his face, hoping he didn’t notice.

No such luck as he smirks like the cat that got the canary. Or. A more accurate analogy, the crow that got the shiny object it had been eyeing.

“If you didn’t drag me into trouble so much ah~” You can’t hide your noise this time, even if it had been pointless. Arching your back away from the cushion under you as his hand moves higher along your leg, you aren’t sure if it’s a blessing or a curse that you wore a skirt.

“Trouble she says, are you saying I drag you into trouble when we have our little dates at the arcade?” Humming as the tips of his fingers brush the area just inside your knee, alternating pressure as he slides his hand along the area slowly moving higher.

You don’t have a retort, instead, you watch his face with your eyes narrowed. Curious if he’ll tease you more or just keep moving his hand a little higher closer to where you want him to be.

“I know what you want Sweetie, are you sure?” Smirking as he trails his hands down, back closer to your foot. “You are feeling rather tense, I wouldn’t want to make you sorer than you already are.” A slight pinch to the skin above your ankle that has you making another soft noise, trying to tug your feet away from his hand.

“I can handle a lot more than you think.” The words are out of your mouth before you can ponder any kind of consequence.

That rich melodious laughter of his rings out in the room, his upper body shaking and his grip on your leg grows tighter. A single corner of his lips upturned as those crimson eyes seemed to flash. “That almost sounds like a challenge, Miss Hunter.” Reaching for his wine glass and finishing the remaining liquid, and you’re squealing again as you find yourself airborne for a moment. A firm shoulder under your side and the view of a nice butt and you jolt up and down.

“Sylus!” Flailing a little as he starts to stride out of the room and down the hallway towards his bedroom. “What are you doing!? Put me down!”

“Unless you’ve grown more voyeuristic, as to what I’m doing I thought that would be obvious.” His long legs easily take him down the short distance of the hallway and you flush as the implication of his words sink in. The twins were around earlier, and you definitely don’t want them walking in on the two of you.

Tossed on his bed like you're a sac of some kind, you bounce on the fabric of the bedspread scrambling to right yourself. Except one of those large hands of his reaches out and wraps around your ankle, dragging you to the edge. “Sylus!” Your voice is an odd mixture of giddy and admonishing as the thick comforter bunches under you around your butt and back as you reach the edge.

There’s a hint of mischief on his face, holding your leg straight up in the air parallel to your body. Letting out a small chuckle with your foot close to his face, the long digits of his other hand work the fastener on your shoe to loosen it enough to drop it to the floor. “Yes, Sweetie?” Smirking as those same fingers glide down your calf, this time a trail of goosebumps rising along the skin in the wake of his touch.

“I…” Trailing off when his lips ghost along the soft skin of your ankle, causing you to gasp, a reaction that has him grinning from the feeling of his lips against your skin shifting. “I don’t like when you just toss me around.” You sound like a petulant child, not exactly what you want at the moment but you are annoyed at the way Sylus has been tossing you around today.

“I’ll try and keep that in mind for next time.” Sliding your leg so it’s against his shoulder he repeats the process of grabbing the other one to repeat the action of removing your shoe. Taking his time as those sharp eyes of his watch you as if he can see every minuscule movement as you react to him.

“Next time?” You’re trying to slow your heart rate, shuffling a small amount to try and get the excess fabric under you into a more comfortable position.

“You could use more training, I like to think I’m a decent workout partner.” Smirking down at you well aware that wasn’t what you had meant and you call him out on it, saying those exact words. “What I plan on doing to you could be considered a workout.” Raising an eyebrow before tilting his head and nipping at your skin. His voice is a little deeper and your body responds in kind, your stomach clenching as you feel a warmth starting to form in your core.

“And what are you planning on doing to me?” Biting your bottom lip as you try and reach out to touch him, but he’s just out of reach.

“I have some thoughts.” Seeing your attempts to reach him, he trails one of his palms down along your legs before closing the distance to let you intertwine your smaller hand with his. “Though I have several options.” Rubbing his thumb along the edge of your finger. “Like if I should take you like this, with your legs up in the air while I buck into your soft warm core. Giving your legs a chance to recover from earlier.”

He says it so nonchalantly like he’s talking about what to have for dinner instead of how he’s going to fuck you.

“Or.” Letting his voice trail off before leaning forward so your legs are pressed a little against your belly and wedged against his upper body. “Maybe I should take you on your back, with my arms caging your head in while I ram you into the mattress, my entire body weight sinking into you.” A soft noise echoes around the room, and you realize it came from you when your core gave a throb. A dampness starts to form inside your walls at the thought of him pounding you into the mattress.

“The one I’m really starting to like though, is me relaxing while you ride me.” Chuckling now as he guides your joined hands to his mouth and trails his lips along your knuckles. “Since you can handle a lot more than I think.”

That has you hot and bothered as your stomach clenches again and your skin blazes with heat, hearing your own words from earlier thrown back in your face. All three options are something you want. The tip of your tongue poking out to moisten your lips as your eyes connect, a hint of a glow in his right eye and you feel your heart starting to race in response. It feels like he’s waiting for you to say something in regards to which option you might want.

“I don’t have to work tomorrow. What if we did all three?” Your voice is tentative as you ask the question like you’re unsure of the answer.

“Oh Kitten.” Laughing he pushes your feet away from his shoulders so your legs drop down to his sides almost as if framing him between them, letting his weight press you down as he leans so your chests are aligned. A brush of those pink lips that so rarely uptick into a smile along your own. “I think now you’re being a little greedy, you can’t handle all of that.” Another game of teasing, both verbal and physical as the position has his crotch lined up with yours and he’s using it to his advantage as he softly grinds against you.

Your eyes start to blink rapidly as your brain short circuits, a soft moan rising out of your throat as the action has you feeling more like you're floating in a haze. Shivering from the wash of his breath against your face, an odd sensation as the heat from his arms beside your head warms the air around you. Finding some semblance of thought, you trail your hands along the sleeves of his sweater to his broad shoulders before the tips of your fingers find the skin of his neck. It’s like blaze lighting along the fingertips, his skin warm though you can’t tell if it’s because you're distracted by his lips that he’s keeping just out of reach or just how hot he runs.

Lifting your head to try and make the connection yourself, your efforts just earn you a chuckle from him as he tilts his face to the side so your lips brush against his cheek. “I need an answer Sweetie.”

You’re a little frustrated, sliding your hands higher so you can toy with the grey hairs along his neck. Huffing as you think about where the conversation has gone, if he is leaving it up to you, you have an idea which one you want. “Like this.” Your voice sounds unsteady as it rings out in the room, more like you’ve asked a question instead of giving him an answer.

He lets out a hum, allowing more of his body weight to press you down into the mattress as he lowers his head so it’s beside yours instead of above it. “Like this?” A deep rasp right next to your ear, the point of his nose ghosting along the top of the shell. “It would be an interesting angle.” A roll of his hips and you can’t deny the firmness rubbing along your sex through several layers of clothing. The damp fabric of your panties clinging to your skin as he moves adding to a delicious friction you hadn’t been expecting as the cloth rubs against your clit. “I could buck into you as hard and deep as I want.” Dragging his teeth along the skin of your neck before soothing the area with his tongue. “You’d have little control, are you sure you want that Miss Hunter?” A slight dig with his teasing about your preference to remain autonomous in your life.

A hitch in your breath as you slide your hands upward, through the longer locks of his hair giving them a little tug that makes Sylus hiss through his teeth. He’s not the only one who can tease, even if you have to be careful. Not because you’re worried you might hurt him. No, because anything you dish out to the leader of Onychinus he is happy to return with interest. “I trust you.” The words are far more confident as you rake your nails along his skull, gasping as he snaps his hips far rougher this time jolting both you and the mattress under you.

“Not the answer I was expecting.” Raising his head so he can look down at you once more with a smirk gracing his features, at least before it softens somewhat as he stares at you. If you had to put a word to it you’d say it’s the closest thing Sylus has to a look of adoration with the curve of his eyes and the slight curl of his lips. Those same lips are just inches away from your own, close enough that every breath he takes washes against your skin in a way that makes you shiver. “I’ll have to make sure I try and restrain myself today then.” Whispered so his lips ghost over yours before he closes the final distance. If there was a way to describe the kiss it would have to be unhurried, a slow and methodical movement that makes you hum in pleasure. Sensual in a way as he dominates and controls every aspect of the connection before pulling back just enough to slide his tongue along your bottom lip.

You know what he wants, parting your lips but you aren’t going to just go along with it. Flicking your tongue out to meet him and trying to halt him from plunging the muscle into your mouth. Your attempts to keep him engaged in a sloppy open mouth kiss has him groaning, the noise hiding the shifting of his arm. Too involved in the mess of saliva connecting the two of you to notice his hand trail down your side and across your hip as he pulls his body away just enough to form a space for his hand to slip under your skirt.

As two of his fingers sink into your core up to his knuckle you gasp, your back arching away from the mattress and full into his chest, any thought to keep up the dance of tongues gone and Sylus seems to relish the chance to sweep the wet muscle into your mouth. Coiling it around your own after swirling it along the inside of your cheeks, like he’s reacquainting himself with the space. A chuckle that shakes his chest as those two digits curl and expand inside your slick walls.

Your hips jerk in response, your hands falling away from where they had been tangled in his hair as your brain tries to make sense of his assault on your senses. His fingers keep moving, stroking the ember that had slowly been building inside of you into a fire and coaxing more liquid from your pussy. Your mind can’t keep up so your body starts to respond, trying to lift your hips so his fingers are deeper inside of you. Chasing after them as best as you can, moaning in frustration as his mouth remains connected to yours, his tongue still sliding along yours in a dance that grows more and more desperate. With his body still as close as it is and those thick thighs of his between your legs, you can’t chase the sensation of forcing those digits deeper inside your slick channel. A rumble that might have been a groan deep in his chest, if he was anything else you might have thought it a purr of a predator of some kind.

Except crows don’t purr.

You’re starting to feel lightheaded when Sylus finally pulls away, the wet strands connecting the two of you thinning before breaking. Feeling the splatter of the liquid on your chin as your chest heaves, pressing harder against his as you try to suck in oxygen to ground yourself from the way his fingers are churning up your insides.

Another noise from you that sounds like a cross between a squeak and a mewl when the tip of one of his fingers brushes against a bundle of nerves that makes your eyelids flutter. “So wet, Kitten.” Sylus is panting just as heavily as you are, though he has the full use of his senses unlike you allowing him to continue his onslaught. Kissing along the column of your throat and leaving a wake of damp skin behind. “I thought you might have a bit more control than that.” Still teasing you with his voice as he blows a cool breath along where he had been, another gasp from you as you shiver. Your fingers fisting the material of his bedspread under you, an involuntary response as you keep trying to find a way to ground yourself and gather your scattered thoughts.

“Sylus~” It’s all you can manage, your body tensing up as his fingers keep working your dripping core, the amount of liquid gushing from you down past your folds and onto his fingers.

Shushing you gently as his lips caress the skin near the hollow of your throat. “Just relax.” Adding a third finger to your walls, making you cry out and arching your body once more. Very much the opposite of relaxing.

Your eyes are clenched shut, a sight that has Sylus grinning. Licking his lips at the way your face is pinched in pleasure and trying to fight off how close you are, the slight hint of perspiration dotting the edge of your hairline. The flush painting your cheekbones and the tip of your nose, all because of him and just his fingers. All those hours spent learning your body, the things you like, and the best way to get a response from you are well worth it as his chest swells with an emotion he thought himself incapable of.

You’ll be the end of him. He doesn’t doubt it for a single moment.

“Sylus!” Your voice takes on an edge he recognizes, one that means you’re almost at that precipice of tipping over.

“Almost there Sweetie, you need at least one to loosen you up before you can take me.” It’s partially true. You can take him without an orgasm, but he prefers sinking into your tight core when you’re more than ready for him. A bit of patience so he can let loose when he stuffs you full of his cock. He’s never been one for quickies anyway, and you can’t walk straight after he fucks you regardless if you’ve had enough prep or not.

Hearing his words you nod, your eyes still closed as you focus on the way those broad digits rub all the right places. The way he works them inside of you so he’s brushing against different places and making you see bursts of light behind your eyelids when he hits certain nerve clusters when he curls them just the right way.

You keen as his hand twists and his fingers hook to stretch you out more, feeling his thumb start to press against your fabric covered clit. His fingers keeping the part of your underwear out of the way that would have covered most of your opening as he plunges them in and out of you. Your breathing ragged as you hover so close to that point of release.

It isn’t his fingers that push you over. No.

The arm he still has above your head shifts, still keeping part of his weight off of you but his fingers can grip your hair. Tugging on it just hard enough that your neck arches, and he plunges his tongue past your parted lips in time to his fingers.

The assault of pleasure and pain has you screaming his name into his mouth as you cum around his fingers. Squeezing them as if you were trying to milk his cock with your walls before going boneless as your mind blanks from the force of your orgasm.

Pulling away Sylus can’t help the swell of pride in his chest, taking in your bruised lips and blissed out expression. Raising an eyebrow as he stepped away, his gaze going over the mess of fluid that’d seeped from your core and soaked your underwear as well as his bedspread and the front of his pants that had been close to your cunt. A piece of information to tuck away for the next time he wanted to fuck you after a workout. He’s never made you squirt before and this was the closest he’d come.

Keeping one eye on you as he opens a drawer to grab a packet, watching the rise and fall of your chest as you stir starting to sit up. “Sylus?” A soft call of his name as if you’re dazed and looking for him. He finds it adorable, the way you turn your head seeking him out.

“I’m here Sweetie, just grabbing a condom.” As much as he’d enjoy making you squirm and flooding your core with his cum until it has nowhere else to go but drip from your folds and down your thighs, the two of you aren’t there yet. “You made quite a mess.” Smirking at the flush that covers your face at the sudden realization, laughing as he strides back towards you and the bed.

You’re mortified as you cover your face with your hands feeling the heat from your cheeks in your palms, you can feel the slick from your release still dribbling out of you and down your thighs. “It’s your fault.” A crack in your voice as you say it that makes him grin, aware you can’t see it right now.

“If that’s meant to deter me, you’re doing a bad job Sweetie. Telling me that mess is my fault is just going to make me want to do it again.” Closer to you once more he drops his head to lean his forehead against yours. “And again.”

“You’re egotistical.”

“If you say so.” A spark of mischief in his crimson gaze, tilting his head to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Now, are you sure about your choice? Last chance to change your mind.” You’re still going to get railed but you believe him about having the final say in how he’ll fuck you.

“Are you backing out now?” Aiming for a teasing tone as you go in for a kiss, one he doesn’t pull away from this time. Aware of your hands trailing down his chest to the hem of his grey sweater, your fingers hooking into it and tugging it upwards. Again, a motion he lets you carry through with until he has to lift his arms. Chuckling he leans back to let you slip the material over his head, not missing the way your eyes drop down to his chest and the visible swallow you make.

“Never.” Tossing the clothes to the side, Sylus grasps one of your hands in his larger one. “Like what you see, Sweetie?” It doesn’t matter how many times you see Sylus naked, or partially naked, he’s well built and damn if he doesn’t know it.

“I think you already know the answer to that.” A small breathy laugh of your own rings in the space, trailing the hand not clasped in his downward to his belt and working your way to the clasp at the front of it. Releasing your other hand and letting you work the buckle to free the leather of his belt before your hands tugged the metal teeth of his zipper down. Growing bolder and slipping a hand inside past the fabric of his underwear to grasp his hard length. Humming at the feel of his warm flesh sinking into your palm, pumping along his hard shaft awkwardly within the confines of his pants.

Sylus lets you continue for a few moments, breathing through his teeth as your palm glides up and down his length. A squeeze here and there as you tease him, smearing the precum that beads at his slit along his shaft before he wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls it away. “That’s enough teasing.” Turning your hand to kiss the back of it before nipping at the skin between your thumb and index finger, enjoying the short little gasp you make.

As he drops your hand Sylus wastes no time pushing his pants and underwear down enough to free his aching cock, tearing the edge of the condom packet and sliding the latex down his shaft to his base. “Leave it on.” His eyes focused on you and how you had started to remove your clothes, one hand on your shoulder and pushing you back down on his bedspread. “After all, I didn’t say anything earlier about taking your clothes off.”

Spreading your legs and slipping between them, two of his fingers pushing the fabric of your sodden panties aside and humming in appreciation at the sight of your slick sex. You’re still dripping from earlier, tapping the head of his dick against your clit, the whines you make like music to his ears.

“Sylus!” Crying out as you feel frustrated that he’s still teasing you.

“What’s the magic word?” Another few taps before sliding his shaft along the outside of your walls, smearing your juices along the latex covering his skin. He can feel the heat of your skin through the material, throwing out a reminder back to earlier in your relationship when you had told him to stop just demanding your time.

“Please Sylus!” You look so desperate, pleading for him, so different from the hunter that waltzed into the N109 zone trying to sell her soul while looking for answers. A look that he knows is only for him, and he enjoys giving in to those pleas when it suits him. Using his hand to guide the head of his cock to your pussy, feeling the tip breach your entrance before he snaps his hips as he splits you open with his length.

Hissing through his teeth at the tightness of your walls as you make a noise like a scream that sounds something like this name. The fire in your belly bursts back to life after cooling from the break between your last orgasm and now. Sylus doesn’t hold back, not with the slickness inside of your cunt as he ruts into you with sure snaps of his hips. Every move has him slamming into you to the base of his cock before pulling out until the tip remains in your heat. A blistering pace that has your hands grabbing fistfuls of the bedspread between your fingers and clasping it tightly enough that the joints turn white.

With your eyes narrowed from the pleasure flooding through your system you watch Sylus standing between your legs. The glint of light off the damp skin of his chest, and the way his abdomen clenches each time he sinks deep inside your pussy. Every thrust deep, your walls stretched to the limit around his girth hovering just before that edge of pain. All you can do is moan and mewl in response to him, feeling the inferno of desire and arousal growing steadily by the minute.

It isn’t long as he pants how perfect you are, with his hands at your hips to keep you from sliding back on the bed while he drills into you. The dampness that had started on his skin is more like a thin layer of sweat now, tossing his head and some of the drops fall across your skin and across the fabric of your clothes. The sight makes you clamp harder around his shaft. Turned on by the flush growing along his cheekbones and his pectorals all from the effort of him bucking into you with the force of a wild animal while maintaining the same precise movements as when he was sparring with you earlier.

A symphony of his name on your lips and Sylus tries to grin, but his breathing is growing more and more labored. Grabbing your legs and holding them against his chest, listening to the tempo of your breathing increase as the change has you tumbling over that edge as you squeeze him like a vice. He doesn’t let up, rutting into you through your orgasm, holding your ankles in one hand with both leaning against one of his shoulders allowing his other hand to toy with your clit. Pulling a second orgasm from you in short order, his thumb sliding the hood back to flick the bundle of nerves directly.

Tears form on your lashes as your back arches, letting go of the fabric of the bedspread to wrap both of your hands around his wrist to try and stop the onslaught on your core. It’s too much, but you can’t find the words as your fingers scramble to try and push his way.

“Just a little more.” It’s more of a grunt, the ease that he normally speaks lost to his exertion, each word broken by a pant. “You can handle that, can’t you?”

The fluid from your tears is running down the sides of your face now, you aren’t sure you can and Sylus takes note of the almost warring expression you’re sporting. There’s a bubbling in his gut accompanying the tightening of his balls, your sweet cunt milking him has him almost to the goal line. Changing the angle of his upper body so your legs are pointing back towards your body, your ass in the air with his balls slapping against the skin as he keeps thrusting into you. Sliding his hand from your clit up along your stomach and chest, giving one of your cloth covered breasts a squeeze to make you gasp on his way. Wiping his fingers across the damp skin of your neck before pressing two of his digits against your lips.

“Suck.” Sliding them into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue. The taste of sweat and other bodily fluids is enough to ground you, to take away the focus of your exhausted and overstimulated core just long enough for Sylus to ram into you he’s going to leave a permanent imprint of his cock inside your walls. His nostrils flare as that steady rhythm of his finally snaps and he cums inside the condom, his hips still surging forward as if he could pump his seed deep inside your pussy. Slowing to a stop with his tip nudging against your cervix and pulling a third orgasm from you that makes you whine as everything goes white.

As the sweat drips from his hair onto his neck, he watches you through hooded eyes. Enjoying the way your clothes cling to your body from sweat and the way your skin seems to shine in the dim lighting. Your lips parted just enough to see the tip of your tongue poking out. His fingers are coated in saliva but for now he doesn’t care, carefully removing himself from your slick channel, a thick ring of cream around his base on the condom. Maybe next time. Whispered inside his head.

You groan as his evol wraps around you and moves you more onto the bed as he slips away, you can vaguely hear the sound of running water. The longer you lay there in the post afterglow with your heart rate slowing down you take deeper and deeper breaths. Sitting up in a snap as cool fabric touches your abused sex. Sylus is there, wiping the soft wet cloth between your folds. “You’re a mess.” He’s back to teasing and you’re still too exhausted from just having been pushed to the edge and thrown over that many times to form any real retort.

“You don’t look much better.”

“Trying to be mean? It doesn’t work with clipped claws Kitten.” Chuckling he presses the cloth a little harder into your sex. “After everything, I just did for you.”

You let out a soft noise, the haze in your limbs lifting and you use your arms to push yourself into a semi seated position. “My clothes are soaked, and I need a shower.” Grumbling as you rub at your face, the damp trails from your tears earlier still on your skin.

“Later.” Leaning closer to catch your lips in a kiss, his fingers hooking the edge of your shirt. “I remember someone earlier saying she wanted all three options, and the night is still young Sweetie.”

Suffice to say, when morning came with you tucked away in his bedroom well away from the rays you’re glad you have the day off. Because you’re not getting out of bed with how sore you are, instead you sleepily snuggle back in against Sylus’s chest, earning a chuckle from him as he places bids at an auction. One hand resting against the small of your back and tracing patterns.

Maybe he’ll have to convince you to do training more often with him if it keeps you there for several hours of sex and passed out in his bed.

Masterlist

#love and deepspace sylus #sylus #x reader #love and deepspace #Love and deepspace smut #sylus x reader #sylus smut #sylus love and deepspace #sylus x you #sylus x reader smut #Love and deepspace sylus smut #Sylus x you smut #twink writes

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rottenaero · 5 months ago

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Eddie makes it out of the upside down miraculously still living. They get out through Fred’s gate and Nancy drives the winnebago while Steve patches him up in the back with a medkit from Warzone.

He thinks he cleaned and wrapped his stomach pretty good, but when he lifts the guy up, the spot his head was at on the couch has blood, and Steve blinks,

“ Dustin, can you see if they have a hair clipper in the bathroom?”

Eddie squints, delirious from the blood loss. “ For what, Harrington?”

“ Must’ve hit your head on a rock… You’ll be okay man we fix it up. If not they have bandage scissors that we can use to chop it off.” Steve’s muttering, and Dustin rushes back into the room, handing him the object.

“ For what- what’re you doing?” He can barely see, his visions fading but the hair clippers turn on and he hisses. “ Do not fucking touch my hair, I swear to God, Steve-“

Except he blacks out before he finishes that sentence.

He wakes up in a room that’s covered in yellow plaid, and Dustins at his side in a second.

He blinks, grins. “ Henderson, hey, uh, where are we?”

He feels a breeze, his head chills and he remembers what happened before he blacked out. His stomach drops and he lifts a hand to his scalp.

Dustin’s already kicked off explanation as soon as he touches the buzzcut. “ You would’ve died if Steve hadn’t cut it, the hit to it was bad. I know it’s part of the whole look but it’ll grow back-“

“ Henderson.”

“-It only takes awhile, I mean, I don’t know how long for you-“

“ Henderson.”

“-but Steve did his in solidarity, and he said his hair grows pretty fast-“

“ Henderson!- Wait. What?”

The door to the room creaks open, and one Steve Harrington walks in, with a buzz that reminds Eddie of his 8th grade self. “ Oh hey man! You’re awake!”

He turns to Dustin, glaring. “ You fucking let him? Jesus Christ they don’t call him ‘ The Hair’ because he has a good ass!”

“ You think I have a good ass?”

#i think eddie would be more upset than steve is #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington x eddie munson #rottenaero #rottenaero writes #steddie drabble

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kaiser1ns · 4 months ago

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#. KISS KISS FALL IN LOVE

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, suo hayato, kaji ren, togame jo, takiishi chika, endo yamato

fluff. since when did you dream of a first kiss with the boy you like. and the chance finally came, but not everything turned out as imagined.

up to 500-600 words per scenario, i tried my best, sorry i'm still trying to describe romantic scenes womp womp, like and subscribe!

UMEMIYA HAJIME

You are so in love with this man that you can't get enough. Literally, you can't get enough of the way he is so oblivious to the hints you drop every single day. He is laughing yet again at something, surrounded by Furin first years and Hiragi at Kotoha's cafe. The desire to smack him on the head and tell him he is so stupid grows faster than the vegetables in his garden. Only Kotoha seems to notice your gloomy mood — you haven't touched the food she prepared, and it makes her worry.

"I'm going to give up if he doesn't do something soon," you tell your best friend, your voice tinged with frustration.

She pats your hand reassuringly. "It'll be okay. Don't mind Hajime's antics. Boys take time to develop, you know."

You thank her and finish your food, but you still want to go home. Being in his presence feels draining right now. You quietly say goodbye to Kotoha and immediately leave, while she wonders what she can do to help you out.

You aren't far away when you hear running footsteps behind you and the voice you knew all too well. "Y/N, wait for me, please!" It's Umemiya, running worriedly towards you. You turn to face him as he pants from the exertion. "Kotoha said you wanted to talk about something with me. Is that why you left?"

Oh my, this girl. How dare she does this to you? You didn't want to tell him, you were supposed to be mad at him. "It seems that I have forgotten what I was going to say," you murmur, turning on your heel to walk away again. But he hugs you from behind, his grip strong and tight, your back against his chest.

"You wanted to have your first kiss, right?" There it goes, your best friend spilled everything to her brother. "I've noticed everything you did to indicate your wants and needs. I was just waiting for the right moment, when we aren't with people, like this ..."

He lets you go, turning you around and kissing you. His eyes are closed, but yours widen in surprise. The feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your back makes you relax. You're a blushing mess, a whirlwind of butterflies and emotions coursing through you. Hands find their way to his chest, feeling his heartbeat race as fast as yours.

When he finally pulls away, his eyes meet yours, filled with a tenderness you've longed to see. "I'm sorry it took me so long," he murmurs, his voice soft and sincere. You smile, your heart swelling with the butterflies going there instead. "You better make it up for all the waiting."

He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I guess I am a bit dense, huh?" You laugh, the sound light and genuine, laying your head on his chest and hearing his heartbeat once again as he hugged you "Just a bit."

As he walks you to your home, hand in hand, you can't help but think about Kotoha and how she played Cupid, knowing exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t.

SAKURA HARUKA

You’ve heard it all before, the endless litany of self-deprecation and doubt that spills from Sakurs’s lips like a broken record. It’s a familiar routine by now, his recounting of how he doesn’t deserve kindness or acceptance, how your sweetness to him feels misplaced. His voice wavers with each confession, half-hoping you’ll agree and half-fearing you’ll walk away.

“I don’t get why you’re so nice to me,” he says for the umpteenth time, eyes downcast. “I don’t deserve it.” Your eye twitches. You’ve had enough. The words repeat in your head, grating on your nerves. You care about him deeply, but his lack of self-worth is starting to drive you insane. He’s strong, capable, a fighter in every sense of the word—except when it comes to himself.

“Oh my god, Sakura, stop with this bullshit,” you snap, sharper than you intended. He blinks, taken aback. “Hah!?”

“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s so frustrating. ‘I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve that.’” You mimic his tone, letting your irritation seep through. His eyes narrow, anger mixing with confusion. "Huh!?" He clenches his fists, the familiar motion of cracking his knuckles following. It’s a gesture meant to intimidate, but you’ve seen it too many times to be scared. “Shut up before I make you,” you threaten.

He meets your gaze gaze, unflinching. “Make me then. Let your fists do the talking.”

That’s it. The breaking point. You stand up abruptly, closing the distance between you. He braces himself, expecting a fight. You can see the conflict in his eyes, torn between his instinct to fight and his deep-seated fear of hurting you. Instead, you grab his face with both hands and pull him into a kiss. It’s sudden, forceful, and completely unexpected. His body tenses up, then melts against you, stunned into silence.

When you pull back, his face is a shade of red you didn’t think was possible to achieve. He’s a mess of incoherent sounds, his mind clearly struggling to process what just happened. “W-what… Huh!?”

“You shouldn’t talk so much crap,” you say calmly, sitting back down. “It’ll lead you to problems.”

He stands there, dazed and silent, a stark contrast to his usual self. You relish the quiet, the absence of his self-doubt hanging in the air. Finally, a moment of peace. Sakura haven't said a word all day, lost in his thoughts. You watch him out of the corner of your eye, hoping that your impulsive act has left an impression, that maybe he’ll start to see himself the way you see him.

SUO HAYATO

The boy himself, the living legend of making people accept his requests with his teasing smile, is sitting next to you. His beautiful dark brown eyes make you melt like chocolate left out in the hot sun. Suo Hayato, the enigma from the neighboring school, is here in your living room, surrounded by your scattered chemistry notes. You begged him for help with your homework, and in his usual style, he agreed with a condition. You, expecting another teacake request, readily agreed.

The two of you sit on the floor, papers spread out across the table. Hayato explains the properties of alkaline metals and their reactions. His hand occasionally brushes against yours, sending a jolt through your system each time. He notices your reactions, the subtle glances you steal, the way you tense and relax. He is enjoying himself, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“And that’s all. I’m sure you’ll ace the test, L/N-san,” he concludes with a smile.

A few days later, you find yourself beaming as you show him your test. Maximum points. You’re the only student with a perfect score, and Hayato knows it. His smile widens, and his eyes gleam with satisfaction.

“I knew you’d do it. But don’t you forget something?” he prompts.

Ah, yes, his reward. “No, I didn’t forget, Suo-kun.” You reach into your bag and pull out a box of homemade teacakes. “Here, just the way you like them.” He takes the box, smiling with one eye closed, the other hidden beneath his signature eyepatch. “Oh, thank you very much. So kind as always.” he pauses “But I wanted something sweeter.”

Confused, you stand there trying to figure out what he means. Wasn’t he on a diet? Perhaps you should brew him some tea. He chuckles, observing you and most possibly reading your thoughts.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want freshly brewed tea.” His voice is soft, but there's an edge to it. How does he always know what you’re thinking? Does he know you wanted to kiss him while you studied? His perceptiveness is both thrilling and intimidating.

“So what do you want?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. He closes the distance between you in a heartbeat. “You.”

Before you can process his words, his lips are on yours, warm and insistent. Your bag slips from your shoulder, landing with a soft thud. The kiss is everything you imagined and more, a perfect blend of surprise and inevitability. You feel the chemistry, the undeniable connection between element Suo and element Y/N, strong and unbreakable.

You pull away, still in shock, as he steps back. His hands are behind his back, holding the box of teacakes, but his eyes are fixed on you. He turns to leave, but glances back over his shoulder.

“I’ll be waiting for more chemistry tests to help you out,” he says, a promise in his voice. And you know, without a doubt, that his request will always be met.

KAJI REN

You had always admired the way Kaji Ren seemed to be in his own world, headphones clamped over his ears and a strawberry lollipop lazily balanced between his lips. He was lost in thought, probably wondering about you, always worried—if you needed help, how your day went, if there was someone he needed to deal with for you. His obliviousness gave you the perfect opportunity. You appeared in front of him and, snatching the lollipop from his mouth, putting it in your own.

"What the—" His initial reaction was irritation, a typical Kaji Ren tantrum brewing, until he saw you standing there, and that devilish look in your eyes. You were still in your school uniform, like you always are when he waits to walk you home.

"Oh, strawberry one. My favorite." You teased, a smile tugging at your lips. He scoffed, too tired to engage in your banter, as started walking behind you, when you suddenly stopped. Before he could react, you snatched his headphones and dashed off.

You were fast, but Kaji was faster. In a heartbeat, he caught up, slamming you gently against the nearest wall, his arms caging you in. You looked up at him, a devilish grin on your face.

"Now, what, Ren?" you taunted, breathless.

For a moment, he just stared, as if trying to figure out his next move. Then, in a move that surprised both of you, he grabbed the lollipop from your mouth and tossed it on the ground. His lips crashed onto yours with a hunger and urgency that sent the butterflies right into your stomach. He kissed you like he’d been starving for it, tasting the sweet strawberry flavor that lingered on your lips.

You kissed back with equal hunger, your hands tangling in his hair. Time seemed to stand still as you both poured everything into that kiss. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, as you stared at the blonde boy.

"Do you want to try an apple flavor next time?" you asked, a teasing once again.

"Shut up," he muttered, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. He snatched his headphones back and started walking again, but you weren’t ready to let go just yet. You ran up to him and slipped your hand into his. For a moment, you thought he might pull away, but instead, he squeezed your hand tightly.

TOGAME JO

You never go into Shishitoren territory without Togame. He’s your personal bodyguard, a very fine one at that, and he insists on accompanying you every time. Texting him is a lost cause—he never responds. At least, that’s what he wants you to believe, even though your texts are the only ones he ever reads. So, you always call to tell him you are under the bridge, waiting for him.

Tonight, the two of you are wandering down a bustling street, searching for a pub to settle in. The crowd is big at this time of the night, and Togame keeps his hand firmly on your waist, ensuring you stay close. Despite him wanting to keep you close and safe, you are always slipping away, and it drives him crazy.

You meander through, your curiosity piqued by a very interesting shop window. Something inside catches your eye, and you pause to admire it. Meanwhile, he is frantic, scanning the crowd for any sign of you. When he finally spots you, relief floods his body, quickly replaced by an angry expression. The Shishitoren vice-capitain makes a note to buy the item for you tomorrow, but now is not the time. He strides over and grabs your hand, pulling you towards a quieter, more secluded area.

“What if something happened to you? Do you know how much I’d regret that?” His usual slow, measured speech is now rapid and laced with frustration.

You look down, guilt washing over you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

He sighs heavily, his expression softening as he sees your sad face. Gently, he tilts your chin up, his fingers brushing away the few tears that have escaped. “Don’t cry now, pretty girl.”

Before you can respond, he leans in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss. You hadn’t expected your first kiss to happen like this, in a quiet, dimly lit alley, but it’s with Togame Jo, and that’s all that matters.

His hands cradle your face, thumbs tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You close your eyes, relaxing in his touch, your heart pounding in your chest. It is soft, tender, and unhurried. There’s no rush, no urgency—just the two of you in this moment. His lips are warm, and he takes his time, savoring the feel of you, as butterflies made their way to your stomach. When he finally pulls away, you’re both breathless, faces mere inches apart.

He presses his forehead against yours, a small smile playing making its way, reassuring you that everything was fine, “Just... don’t do that again, okay?”

You nod, still dazed from the kiss. He entwines his fingers with yours, leading you back to the crowded street, but this time, his grip is gentler, more safe. The bustling city seems a little less overwhelming with him by your side, and you can’t help but smile, stealing glances at him, your heart fluttering with every step. Togame catches your eye and squeezes your hand, his own smile growing wider.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

He showed up at your house, knocking on the window as you sighed, getting up from your bed. You, of course, let him in, seeing how he was again stained with blood that was not his. It was the same every time: he came to you so you could patch him up, fix him, give him a shower, change of clothes and a place to sleep in. You never ask questions, and he never offers explanations. Tonight is no different as you sit in his lap, bandaging his face and hands.

You're not a couple; you're not anything. It’s complicated. There are unspoken words between you, a delicate balance that neither of you dares to disrupt. As you sit on his lap and clean his face, you find yourself closer than before. His yellow eyes, intense and piercing, lock onto yours, heart races, each beat echoing in your ears. You’re getting closer, inch by inch. Hesitation grips you, your breath caught in your throat.

"Don't move." Just as you think of pulling away, his hand moves behind your head, gently but firmly pushing you forward. Your lips meet his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s surprising, the gentleness of it, especially coming from someone as fiery and unpredictable as Chika. The kiss is brief, a fleeting moment that feels that for once you were something. When it ends, you pull back slightly, searching his eyes for any hint of what this meant to him. But his expression is the same as every day. And then you are back to becoming nothing.

For you, it meant everything. It’s a confirmation of the connection you’ve always felt but never acknowledged. But what did it mean for him? You're not sure, and you don't dare to ask. Not now. Maybe not ever. You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. You can think about this later. Right now, he still needs you. You focus on his injuries, cleaning and bandaging.

Chika watches you work, his eyes never leaving your face. You can feel the weight of his gaze, and it only makes you more aware of your own feelings. But you don’t let it distract you. You finish bandaging his hands and move to check for any other injuries, your fingers brushing against his skin, meanwhile, he gently caresses your thighs with his thumbs leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

When you’re done, you lean back, surveying your work. He looks a bit better now, though still battered and bruised. You meet his eyes again, and this time there’s something different there. Something softer, more vulnerable — a golden hue reflects the dim light, adding a warm, almost ethereal quality to the sun.

“There all done,” you say quietly, unable to trust your voice to say more. You stand up, as you don't want to leave his embrace but you have to clean up the supplies scattered around and prepare a bath. As you move around the room to get him new clothes you can feel his eyes on you, following your every move. You wonder if he’s thinking about the kiss, about what it meant. You wonder if he feels the same confusion, the same longing, the same love.

ENDO YAMATO

The wind lifting strands of his dark hair and whipping them around his face. He’s talking about something, his tattooed hands tracing patterns in the air. But you’re not listening. You’re caught up in the way his lips move, the curve of his smile, the glimmering in his eyes.

"...and Takiishi was there, you know? Doing that thing he always does," Endo continues, oblivious to your silent longing. Takiishi Chika. Again. You frown, a little annoyed now. Why does he always have to bring up Chika?

"Endo," you say, softly at first, hoping to catch his attention. He doesn’t notice.

"Takiishi’s just so unpredictable. I never know what he’s going to do next."

"Endo," you repeat, louder this time. Still, he’s lost in his own world, his words tumbling out like the wind itself, unstoppable and carefree.

"And then, Takiishi—"

"Endo!" You say it sharply, frustration bubbling up inside you. He finally pauses, blinking at you in surprise. You take a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, before he can say anything, you reach up and grab his collar, pulling him down to your height. His eyes widen in shock, but you don’t give him time to react. You press your lips to his, silencing him in the most effective way you know.

Feeling his lips against yours, the taste of his breath mingling with your own. It’s not perfect. It’s rushed and a little clumsy, your noses bump awkwardly, and you can feel him tense. But it’s real. It’s happening. And it’s better than any dream.

When you finally pull away, he’s staring at you, confusing and amusing gaze. His hands, still raised from his gesticulations, hover in the air, uncertain.

"Ah," he says, a slow smile spreading across his face. "I’m not good at judging people, am I?" You laugh, knowing how he chooses people and how his expectations are later contradicted, that right now is happening with you, "No," you agree, your voice soft. "You’re really not."

He rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. "Sorry. I guess I was talking too much."

"A little," you admit, your heart still racing. "But it’s okay."

He steps closer, his hand brushing against yours, indicating his motives. "Can I try again?" he asks, his voice quieter now, the playful edge gone. You nod, your breath hitching in your throat. "Please."

This time, when he kisses you, it’s slower, more deliberate. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently against your skin as you live your dream.

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imaginedisish · 3 months ago

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One for the Road (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Oh my god. This is so dirty, so nasty. Here is the *giving Logan head while he's driving* request. Thank you anon. Thank you so so much. Inspired by "One for the Road" by Arctic Monkeys. ENJOY!

Summary: Forty-five minutes is simply too long of a car ride for you to wait to take care of Logan...Or: you give Logan head while he's driving and he absolutely loses it.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Sexually explicit content, Oral (f! and m!receiving), fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), multiple orgasms, porn without plot (literally), car sex, rough sex, Logan is reckless, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, aftercare, established relationship, f!reader/afab!reader, reader has hair (but length/texture/color are not described), cursing, def some grammatical errors, that's it.

Word Count: 2,269 it's all smut im sorry yr honor but I need him

Logan wants nothing more than to be home. He wants to grab you by the hand, take you up to bed, and hold you until you and he fall fast asleep. This, unfortunately, is not something Logan can do. Instead, Logan’s eyes are trained ahead of him—occasionally flickering to look at you—as he drives carefully through dark, winding roads.

The only silver lining is that you’re in the seat next to him, leaning towards him. You rest your arm on the center console, silently asking Logan to inch closer, too. He obliges, lifting his right hand from the steering wheel and bringing it down to grip your thigh. He squeezes gently, his thumb dipping between your legs, drawing long, slow circles to the sensitive skin there.

Heat rises to your chest as his thumb climbs higher, nudging against the hem of your shorts. You can feel that familiar tension building at the base of your spine, the bottom of your belly. You try to ignore it, but you look over to Logan’s lap, and you see that he’s half hard and growing, the beginnings of his erection straining through his jeans.

“How much longer until we get back?” You ask, weighing your options.

Logan’s eyes drift from the road to you, his hand giving your thigh another light squeeze. “Forty-five minutes, probably,” he answers, smiling softly.

You hum in affirmation and nod, watching as his erection hardens. You grin to yourself as you reach your hand over the center console and into his lap. Logan’s eyes stay on the road, his throat bobbing as he swallows. You bring your fingers to his belt, watching him closely as you unbuckle the clasp.

“What do you think you’re doing, princess?” Logan asks as you slip the belt from the loops on his jeans.

You drop the belt onto your side of the car, working at his button next. “Taking care of you,” you say as you pull his zipper down. You lean over the center console completely, tugging his jeans down his legs as far as you can get them to go.

Logan’s hand slips from your thigh and grabs your wrist, stopping you before you can tug his boxers down. “I’m trying to drive, pretty girl,” he chides, looking down at you.

You smile up at him, freeing yourself from his grasp and tugging down his boxers. “I know,” you answer, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, stroking up and down the length of him. “Doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel good.” You lower your head into his lap and bring his cock to your lips, pressing a chaste kiss to his tip.

“F-fuck,” Logan stutters, white-knuckling the steering wheel. You lick a long stripe from the base of his cock up to his head. “Fucking tease,” Logan mutters, his hand coming down to the crown of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, nails digging into your scalp.

You wrap your lips around his tip, and Logan bucks his hips into your mouth, forcing you to take all of him at once. You’ll never get used to the sheer size of him��the way he spills out of your mouth even when he hits the back of your throat. You suck hard, hollowing your cheeks as you slide up and down his shaft.

You can feel Logan holding back, struggling to keep his hips still as you take him in and out of your mouth. “Such a good fucking girl,” Logan moans, your hand at the base of his cock stroking up and down now. “Feels so good, princess.”

He twitches inside you, throbbing with need. You swirl your tongue around his tip and take him deeper, as far as he can possibly go. Logan grips the back of your head, guiding you up and down his length. You look up at him, his chest heaving, his eyes still on the road. He curses under his breath, gripping the steering wheel tighter than before.

His eyes flit down to you and catch your gaze. “So fucking beautiful,” he praises, his foot through the floor on the gas. “So pretty when your mouth is full of my cock.” His words go straight to your core, the aching fire between your legs burning with need. You press your thighs together, searching for friction as Logan’s hips buck into your mouth again.

He gently fucks your face, his hand still guiding the back of your head, pushing himself further inside. “Taking me so well,” Logan growls. You gag around him as he slides you up and down his cock. “Perfect little mouth, doing so good for me.” You know he’s getting close; it’s the way he whispers your name, the way he pushes you back down after you reach his tip.

Logan flicks the blinker on, and the car jerks to the side of the road, coasting to a stop. His cock twitches as he puts the car in park. He shifts, sitting up, his hips rocking, forcing himself deeper, hitting the back of your throat. You moan around him, taking him up and down faster, chasing his orgasm.

“Gonna come down that pretty throat,” Logan groans, both of his hands gripping the back of your head tightly, pumping in and out of your mouth. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he soothes. “So fucking good.” His hips stutter, his pace faltering as he spills himself inside you. You swallow everything he has to give you, his hips still rocking as he rides out his orgasm.

He guides your head up, your lips sliding up his cock as he pulls himself from your mouth. He smirks at you, his hand coming to your chin, wiping away his release and your saliva from the corner of your lips.

“I think it’s your turn, darlin’,” Logan husks, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. He suddenly grabs your hips and wraps an arm around your back, hoisting you up and setting you down on the center console. He keeps his arm around your back to hold you up as his free hand works at your shorts, unbuttoning the denim, pulling your zipper, and yanking your jeans and panties down your legs.

“Fucking soaked for me, pretty girl,” Logan says, tugging you closer to him as he settles between your thighs. “Could smell how much you needed me when you were getting me off.” His tongue licks a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit. “Couldn’t wait to taste you,” he growls as he laps at you starvingly.

He pulls you closer, your ass hanging off the center console as Logan buries his face into your cunt. “F-fuck, Lo,” you stutter, his tongue swirling around your clit. He brings his free hand to your thigh, spreading your legs wider. His fingers teasingly trail higher, closer to where you need him most.

He finally finds your folds, toying with you, spreading your slick as his tongue draws circles into your core. “Tastes so fucking perfect, sweetheart,” Logan mumbles against you, two fingers prodding at your entrance. “Always tastes so perfect.” His fingers thrust inside you—down to the knuckles—pulling out only to pump back in again.

Everything is hurried and frantic, needy and desperate. He takes your clit between his lips, sucking roughly as his fingers fuck into you. It’s already too much, and you can feel the liquid heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach. “Logan,” you whine, throwing your head back.

“That feel good, beautiful?” Logan asks, his teeth grazing your clit, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. His tongue flits in and out, drawing long, solid strokes as his fingers fill you up, stretching you out and working you open.

“Y-yes,” you pant, watching as he devours you, sinks into you. His dark eyes meet yours and he smiles against you, taking your clit back into his mouth and sucking harder than before. “S-so good.”

“I know, pretty girl,” Logan soothes, a third finger prodding your entrance. “Gonna take care of you.” He slips it in, scissoring inside you, massaging your walls. “Gonna make you come.”

You curse under your breath, your chest heaving as he buries his fingers deep inside. His pace is unrelenting and reckless, pumping in and out, lapping at you mercilessly. Your walls flutter around him, sucking him in deeper. “S-so close,” you mumble, shaking underneath his touch.

“That’s it, darlin’,” Logan coos, licking hard, flat circles around your clit. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers.” His words goad you along, your muscles contracting and releasing around him. He rocks his fingers in and out of you, sucking your clit roughly between sentences. “Let go for me, sweetheart. Let me taste it.”

And then you’re clenching down around him, arching your back as you come undone. You melt into him, his face still buried in your cunt as he works you through your orgasm—his fingers thrusting as he strokes your clit with his tongue. He slows down, his fingers stalling inside you before he slips out completely. He licks one more long stripe through your folds and pulls away. His chin glistens with your juices, sweat coating his brow, his hair disheveled. He’s a mess, and it’s all because of you.

Logan pulls you into his lap, and you immediately feel his still-hard cock press against your stomach. “I’m not finished with you yet,” he murmurs at the shell of your ear. “You started this, pretty girl.” Logan lifts you up, his erection suddenly nudging at your entrance. “And now I’m gonna finish it.” He pulls you down onto him, his cock sinking deep inside you—down to the hilt.

You’re full again—full of him. You lift your hips and sink back down onto him. “That’s it, sweetheart, ride my cock just like that,” he growls, his hand slipping between your bodies, his fingers finding your still-sensitive clit. “Such a good fucking girl.”

“L-Lo,” you whimper, his hips rocking against yours. He thrusts up into you, pushing himself deeper, stroking your clit gently with his thumb.

“So fucking tight,” Logan groans, gripping your hip with his free hand, guiding you up and down his length. “Such a good fucking pussy, taking me so well.” He throbs inside you, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. He flicks your clit, bringing you closer to the edge.

You can feel your orgasm building with every twitch of his cock, with every circle he draws into your core. “’M’so close,” you whine as Logan’s hips snap against yours. He’s fucking into you relentlessly—the slow, languid roll of your hips not enough to satiate his hunger. Your walls flutter around him, pulling him in deeper.

“Fuck, darlin’,” Logan grunts, thrusting up into you. “Can feel you squeezing me. Feels so good, so fucking perfect.” He pinches your clit lightly before circling rapidly, adding more pressure. Your muscles contract around him, and Logan groans at the feeling. “Come on my cock, pretty girl. Let me get you there.”

Logan swallows your moans with a kiss as you let go. You’re all liquid heat, shattering, unraveling as your orgasm crashes into you. Logan is close behind, his fingers still dragging against your clit, his pace faltering as his hips snap into yours. “Where do you want me to—”

You cut him off, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Inside,” you whisper.

Logan moans your name, his cock throbbing as he fills you up, painting your walls with his release. “So fucking beautiful,” he mumbles, his fingers sliding away from your clit and trailing up your body. He wraps his arms around your back, pulling you to his chest as his hips stall, his cock unmoving inside you. “Wanna keep you right here,” he mutters against the shell of your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t wanna let you go.”

You bury your head into the crook of his neck. “Don’t wanna let go, either,” you say, your voice quiet and shaky. “But we need to get home.”

“I know, darlin’,” Logan says, disappointment heavy in his voice. He lifts you gently, pulling himself out from your cunt. He helps you back over the center console, your bare ass hitting the cold leather of your seat. Logan finds your jean shorts and panties, and motions for you to give him your legs so that he can help you dress. It’s soft, intimate, domestic. He lets his fingers linger on your legs long after he’s done, worshipping your skin, taking care of you.

He pulls his boxers and jeans back up, zipping and buttoning the denim, and starts the car. He rolls back out onto the highway, his palm finding its place on your thigh—exactly where he was before.

“Forty-five minutes, pretty girl,” Logan chuckles, his thumb brushing gentle circles into your skin. “Couldn’t wait forty-five minutes for me, hm?”

“Can’t ever wait for you,” you say, letting your eyes flutter closed.

You’re asleep less than five minutes later, and you’re still asleep when you finally arrive back at the mansion. Logan carries you out of the car, into the mansion, and up the steps to his bedroom. You’re still sleeping as he undresses you. He settles you under the covers and climbs in after you, pulling you tight into his chest.

“Love you, pretty girl,” he whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of your head.

“Love you, too,” you mumble, half asleep.

And it’s all he wanted. It’s all he ever thinks about. You.

tags: @ilysmdovie12 @prettyseaveins @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @silversprings-mp3 @movhoney @wittyjasontodd @theasiaabattoir @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @cosmiccandydreamer

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