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starsforxavi · 2 months ago

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unexpected visit ⁘ sylus

·······•✦ description: In which: Your unexpected visit to Sylus' penthouse reveals a side of him you never knew, a side that he wished to always keep hidden because he was a monster. At least, that's what he told himself. But you never thought of him that way, and you want to prove it.

·······•✦ pairing: dragon!sylus x afab!reader ·······•✦ word count: 3.1k ·······•✦ genre: smut, porn with plot, fluff ·······•✦ general tags: Fluff, Smut, Light Angst, Walking In On Someone, Dragon!Sylus, Well more like Hybrid, Mentions of his lore, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Horns, Grinding, Cowgirl Position, Missionary Position, Voice Kink, Praise Kink, Words of Affirmation, Horns as Handlebars, Mentions of Aftercare, Creampie, Penis In Vagina Sex, Vaginal Sex, POV Second Person, No use of y/n

·······•✦ posted on: ao3

You never thought it would be possible to sneak up on the famed Onychinus boss… His guard was completely down, back turned to the doorway as you pushed it open with a slow hand. His scales glittered a beautiful black with an undertone of red under the lights of his bedr-

Scales?

The gasp you let out alerted Sylus, and then you caught sight of his blazing red eyes. They seemed brighter than normal, matching the intense red crackling beneath the surface of the black scales. It was only but a moment that you saw the adornments along his spine before his bare chest was in your vision.

You had seen him shirtless many times, touched along the warm skin from above and below, but the way your jaw dropped slightly sent a shiver through Sylus’ spine. A hint of fear edged into his vision, his throat bobbling with unspoken words.

It took only a quick clear of his throat for him to steel his expression, lips curling into a smirk. Though the look in his eyes gave away the hint of nervousness. He could hide himself again, but it was painful. Retracting his scales and horns took energy, something he had learned how to do over millennia.

“I didn’t-” he cleared his throat again, legs carrying him until he was almost right in front of you, “expect you this early, sweetie.” His words stuttered slightly, the divet between his pecs throbbing slightly. Even though he didn’t want to remember, his body remembered…

“I was eager to see you.” The smile on your face was genuine, eyes sparkling under the dim light of his bedroom. “I am eager to see you.” There was a beat of silence, and then you danced your fingers up his arm, wrapping it around his neck. “Do you want to tell me?”

The softness conveyed everything you needed to say. It’s okay if you don’t want to say anything. Your eyes gazed into his, seeing the raging inferno calm into a gentle bonfire. There was no fear in your irises, only the love that you had harbored for so long.

“It’s just…” He sighed, his eyes flickering down to your lips as he gripped your waist. His touch seared into your skin, and you swore you could see his silver hair twisting into tiny horns. “I’m a monster, sweetie. I have horns and scales. It’s a sight for sore eyes.”

“Can I see them?” Ignoring his words to tear himself down, you ran your fingers through his hair. The unmistakable hitch in his breath gave him away. “The horns… And the scales.”

The tips of your fingers danced between his shoulder blades, edging along a hard shell almost as if you were touching bone. It was interesting, the way the hardness seemed soft in its own way. Armor guarding him from harm.

There was a hesitation in his eyes, his smirk still plastered on his face. The chuckle he let out was soft, and in the small space between you, his warmth wrapped around you. He trusted you with every ounce of his soul, but he also knew how others looked at him. You, however, weren’t like the others. You never were.

“Are you sure?” He sighed, eyes closing as your fingers delivered a gentle massage to his shoulders. The reminders of the wings he once had, the freedom he experienced kissing the mountaintops with you in his arms… He missed it. “Once you see me like that, you can’t go back.”

With a chuckle, you brought him down to press a kiss to his lips. It was chaste, your mouths slotting together perfectly before you pulled away just enough to speak. With your nose brushing his, you smiled.

“I’ll love you in every form.” The hand on the back of his neck moved to his jaw, your thumb tracing his cheekbone. “I fell in love with your soul. Your looks are just a bonus.”

A true laugh burst out from his chest, eyes crinkling shut for a moment. His hands settled on your hips, his grip tight as if he didn’t want to let you go. It was impossible to let you go. To let you go would be to lose a part of himself. His heart soared at your words, knowing you felt the same connection. You remembered the same connection. Even if your brain didn’t, your heart did.

“Well, I’m glad you at least like my looks.” The smile faded just a bit, his eyes flickering between yours before capturing your lips in another kiss. That one was more intense than the last but not overwhelming. His deep breaths filled his lungs, groaning into your mouth as he pulled you closer.

When he parted, he kissed the edges of your lips, leaning his forehead against yours. “You’ve already seen my back. I guess it’s time for you to see it all.”

Stepping back, there was a silence as he turned away from you. The scales were the same black color, with a soft glisten under the light. Beneath them, a light red glow had the skin around it bathed in a hue.

Then, those same scales spread across his wide shoulders. It was like a suit of armor settling on his body, the outline intriguing and beautiful at the same time. They went down his arms but stopped at his fingers.

Before you could ask if he had claws, you gasped as you looked up at him. Very noticeable dark horns sprouted up from his silver hair. It framed his face, and you knew to others it would be scary, but you were excited. Yes, he was different, but he was still the attractive Sylus you met and fell for.

“So, do you think I’m a mon- mmph!”

You cut off his question with a kiss. It was desire-filled and desperate, wanting to assure him that you loved him. You still wanted him, even after seeing that. As if it were an ultimatum. Your steps pushed him back until he hit the bed, sitting down.

“Sit against the headboard.” You said, watching as he settled on the sheets. The grey sweatpants were low on his hips, giving you a peek at the small trail of hair from his navel. His hair was disheveled, and his chest was flushed dark.

Wide eyes watched you strip down to your underwear, climbing onto the bed and situating yourself in his lap. You wanted him, but you also wanted to make sure he knew how much you loved him.

“Can I touch you?” Your hands hovered over his arms, feeling heat radiating from the dark adornments.

“Yes, please.” It was a whisper of a response, his eyes locked onto your face. Oh, how he itched to read your expression. He was normally so in tune with your body, but the way you gazed at his horns and the scales, he wasn’t sure whether to smile or cry.

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, and heat immediately seared into your skin. He was hot, in the literal sense, but it didn’t hurt. If anything, it only added to the intensity of the warmth inside you—a fire that burned eternally, only stoked by the raging heat from your lover beneath you.

“Sweetie,” He started, his muscles flexing as you traced the line of scales. They were surprisingly nice to touch, gliding along each one until you reached his shoulders. It was reminiscent of wings, and while you wanted to prod more with questions, you settled on silence. “I need you.”

“You’re not a monster, Sylus.” His statement caused your hips to stutter against his, the bulge pressing against your core only covered by your panties. The silver hair was soft under your fingers, and you massaged his scalp until you touched the hard, bone-like horns.

His teeth dug into his bottom lip as he fought back a groan. The grip he had on your hips tightened, pinky fingers slipping under the waistband of your underwear. He was desperate, but he also wanted to let you speak.

“Sensitive?” You teased, wrapping your hand around one of his horns. It was a lewd image, one that had your body trembling. A small surge of electricity shot through you, and you leaned down, your clothed breasts flattening against him. He could feel your hard nipples through the padding, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Y-” he swallowed again, his ears flushing deeper red as he tried to collect his thoughts. “Yes…”

Another groan - louder and slightly higher pitched - fell from his lips, eyes closing. If it weren’t for the hold on his horn, his head would have his the wall behind him. But you held on, tightening your grip. To see him so vulnerable, so pliant under your hands as he bared his soul to you…

Your lips found his in a messy kiss, head tilting to deepen it. Tongues danced to their own rhythm, and your hips did the same. Grinding down on his lap, then nipping at his bottom lip… It was an art to the way you kissed him. It all came naturally, as if you had been doing it for centuries.

A hand pushed down Sylus’ sweatpants, freeing his leaking cock that had already dampened the fabric. That own hand also moved your panties to the side, exposing your soaked pussy to the cool air. Sylus groaned into your mouth, guiding his tip along your folds.

Your whimper was caught in his throat, knees pushing you up until his head was nestled right inside your entrance. The stretch was delicious already, feeling yourself accommodate his thickness. With a hand on his horn and the other on the warm scales of his shoulder, you let yourself sink down.

Both of you moaned at the intensity, his hips sitting flush against yours. His cock twitched with each slow graze of his scales or horns, fingers threading through his hair and dancing between the dark protrusions.

“I love you so much, beautiful.” He whispered, resting his forehead against yours. It wasn’t just a statement for the moment, the way his cock buried so deep inside you, tightening around him with each pulse of your pussy. The statement was meant for every single moment for the rest of his life.

“I love you too, Sylus.” Your hips shifted, body stuttering as his cock pressed against the most sensitive spot inside you. “So much… So, so much.”

Each movement sent shocks running through both of you. With your hands anchored on his shoulders, the thick vein of his cock dragged along your walls as you rode him. It was slow and intimate, eyes locked on each other.

Questions popped up, but were immediately wiped away with the desperate rutting on his cock. That could wait until you were finished. Literally. Now, all you needed was Sylus to know how much you loved him.

“You’re so - ah - hot,” you whined, bouncing faster on him. Each time you clenched your pussy around his cock, his hips bucked, pushing himself deeper and deeper. He was uncontrollable, like he was in heat and just needing release. “You’re still, fuck, Sylus.”

Just Sylus…

He was just Sylus.

Sylus’ hands pressed against your back, holding you closer to him. With his feet planted on the bed, he turned onto his side and then, eventually, let you rest comfortably against the sheets. His body enveloped yours, cock still nestled inside you.

With the new position, he struggled to get rid of his sweatpants, eventually taking them off and throwing them to the side. His hands held your waist with a tender touch, his eyes roaming over your body before settling on your face. When he spoke again, it was with a gentle voice.

“Panties off?” That would mean he would have to pull out, and while he was desperate to stay buried inside your tight heat, he would do whatever you asked.

“Just fuck me, Sylus.” As soon as he leaned down to capture your lips, you ran a hand through his hair, gliding your fingers along his horn while the other pressed between his shoulder blades.

It was like his spine was stronger, harder beneath your fingertips. You wondered what it would be like to give him a massage, touching along every small scale that decorated the wide expanse of his back.

Sylus’ hips continued their slow rolls, teasing you with just enough to have cut-up moans echoing from your lips while not enough to bring you one step closer to ecstasy. In truth, Sylus loved hearing your voice; the poetic way you strung together your words sounded like a symphony to him every time.

“Keep talking,” he said, the sentence halfway between a command and a plea. His whole body was hot, molten lava bubbling in his chest, and he could almost feel the pulsing of the ruby that was once laid between his pecs.

“Fuck, o-okay,” swallowing the lump in your throst, you wrapped your legs around his waist. Low whimpers came each time he touched a new part of your body.

“I love the - hhng - way you t-tou-ch me.” his left hand gripped your breast, thumb flicking your nipple.

Despite the bursts of pleasure, you continued. “Love your - ah - horns… How - fuck - sens-itive you ah are,” you could barely keep your eyes open, your pupils halfway obscured by your eyelashes.

Sylus picked up his pace, his right hand pressing against your lower abdomen. He could feel each thrust of his cock, his tip kissing his palm. The only wall between the two is the flesh of your stomach.

“Keep - ah fuck - going,” Sylus breathed out, leaning his body down so he could press a kiss to your lips. You were irresistible to him. He would never get tired of seeing you, hearing you, feeling you, tasting you.

“You- are- not- a- monster-” each of your words was cut off with a moan, his hips clapping against yours. Your breath mingled with his, noses brushing together as you stared into each other’s eyes.

His eyes were the windows to his soul, which was yours. Everything of his was yours. Every material thing, every emotional thing, every spiritual thing. Anything that had his name on it was also yours. No question.

“Your eyes are—ah—gorgeous,” it was a ghost of a whisper, your lips finding his in a clash of tongue and teeth. The kiss wasn’t even an actual kiss, just a desperate attempt to get even closer to one another.

His cock throbbed, twitching inside you with each compliment that came from your heart. You meant every word… You knew that. Sylus knew that. He gave you his everything, and you did the same in return. Though he would never ask anything of you.

Sylus was content being alone, knowing he would never find you again, but fate has a way of reconnecting two lost souls. Just as you did before, you thundered your way into his life, showing him his true purpose.

He felt it in every tender love-making session in bed, and the feral fucking that happened in bathrooms or his car. There was love in fucking and there was also carnal desire in affection. You were the balances that forced the other to a happy medium. Two sides of the same coin and owners of each others’ soul.

“You’re gorgeous.” He panted, thumb finding your clit and rubbing quick circles. “So- so- gorgeous.” As you tightened around him, his hips stuttered, the heat surrounding him and filling every ounce of his being becoming too much.

Your hips bucked up to meet his, finding the right amount of friction as he repeated the word gorgeous against your lips. He would never miss the chance to shower you in compliments, making sure you knew just how perfect you were.

“Is my pretty girl gonna - ha - cum for me?” The hand not stroking your clit held the back of your neck, his lips slotting perfectly against yours.

He knew you were getting close. He was more attuned to your body than anything else. Your rhythm, your touch, every bump and dip in your skin. If all his senses were taken away from him, he would still be able to feel your presence. His soul was at peace when you were around.

“Yes, fuck… Yes.” You panted, eyes threatening to close. Each time you blinked slowly, he pinched your clit, pulling whine after whine from your lips. “God, Sylus.”

“Say my name, pretty girl.” He purred, his eyes locked on yours as he pistoned his cock right against your sweet spot. Stars danced behind your eyes, jaw stuck open in a perpetual moan that was stuttered with each thrust.

“Sy- ah- Sylus!”

Your high crashed over you before you could say anything else, legs locking around his waist. Each wave of pleasure caused your pussy to pulse around him, coaxing him further and further until barely seconds after you came, he was slowing down.

His cock twitched, shooting load after load inside you until his body slowly lost strength. The muscles in his back and legs tensed, and he lowered himself until he was laying completely on top of you.

At the awkward angle, you felt him slip out of you, a small trickle of his release dripping from your hole. His chest pressed against yours, face nuzzling into your neck as he breathed in gentle sighs. He made sure not to hurt you with the horns, feeling them press against the headboard behind you.

“I love you, Sy.” You whispered to him, letting his lips carve a path along your shoulder and neck. His legs were intertwined with yours, hands tapping up and down your torso.

“I love you too, beautiful.” The mumbled words fan across your skin, bringing a smile to your face as you carded your fingers through his silver hair. “Thank you…” He started, closing his eyes. “For not viewing me as a monster.”

You didn’t remember the past, the heartache he faced, and the light you brought into his life. His light was back. The person who taught him how to be, how to love, and how to lose.

“You will never be a monster to me.” You leaned down enough to press a kiss to his forehead. “I will always love you, no matter what.”

There was a beat of silence as you listened to each other’s hearts and the way they complemented each other, the way they completed each other.

“Now, can we clean up?” You chuckled, running your hand up and down the scales of his spine. “As much as I love feeling these,” the touch on his spine is light, “I really don't want to ruin the sheets with your cum and wake up with sticky thighs.”

Sylus laughed again, a loud laugh that rumbled through his chest and had your heart soaring through the clouds. Sitting up on his elbows, he looked down at you, eyes glowing red with adoration and pure love.

“Let’s clean up then, beautiful.”

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rkive-joonie · 1 month ago

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Mine | JJK (m) | one-shot

Biker boyfriend and secret girlfriend AU |

Jungkook x Y/N |

genre: biker au, secret relationship,smut, fluff,( I'll maybe write a part two at some point with all the spice)

warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut,emotional and possessive love and intimacy, he is literally so obsessed with her, oral sex (f. receiving), making out, hickies/marking,penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary position, fingering, rough and slow paced sex, emotional sex,

Wordcount: 2.6k

Jungkook was a solitary figure, the rumble of his motorcycle echoing through the desolate streets. The bike's chrome gleamed under the neon lights of the city, a stark contrast to the shadows that danced around him. His eyes, hidden behind tinted goggles, surveyed the urban sprawl with a sense of detachment. The wind tugged at his hair, a wild mess of raven strands peeking out from beneath a leather cap. His gloved hands were steady on the handlebars, the leather creaking with each deliberate movement. His boots, scuffed and worn, were a silent testament to the miles he had traveled on this machine. The night was alive with the promise of secrets and danger, but Jungkook was unfazed. He was the king of the night, the unseen force that kept the balance in a world that had long forgotten the meaning of the word.

Y/n watched him from the apartment window, her heart racing. The thrill of his arrival never faded, no matter how many times she saw him. Her eyes followed the trail of exhaust fumes as he parked the bike and sauntered towards the building. His confidence was palpable, even from a distance. He owned the night just as surely as he owned her heart. Her fingertips traced the cool glass pane, a silent plea for the warmth she knew she'd find in his arms. She had never imagined herself with someone like Jungkook - a biker, a rebel, a creature of the shadows. Yet, here she was, eagerly awaiting his touch, craving the heat of his embrace.

The sound of the engine cut out, and the world seemed to hold its breath for a moment. Jungkook's boots hit the pavement, the rhythm echoing through the quiet night. Y/n's anticipation grew with each step he took towards the apartment. The door swung open, and he stepped inside, his eyes immediately finding hers. He pulled off his goggles, revealing a smoldering gaze that sent a shiver down her spine. There was something different about him tonight, an edge that she hadn't seen before. A hint of possessiveness, perhaps a touch of jealousy? It was intriguing, like the promise of a storm on the horizon.

He walked into the room, the leather of his jacket creaking with each step. Y/n could feel the tension in the air, thick and potent. Jungkook's eyes roved over her, taking in the sight of her bare legs, the hem of her short dress riding up slightly. His gaze was a caress, a silent question that sent her pulse racing. Without a word, he closed the space between them, his hand reaching out to brush a lock of hair from her face. His touch was gentle, almost tender, but there was a current of something more. His thumb traced the outline of her cheek, his eyes searching hers for something she wasn't quite ready to give. But the night was young, and the whispers of a secret longing danced in the shadows, waiting to be unleashed.

Y/n's heart fluttered in her chest as Jungkook leaned in, his breath warm against her skin. His kiss was sudden, claiming, and it left her gasping for more. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the smell of leather and gasoline intoxicating her senses. His hands moved to her waist, his grip firm, as if he feared she might slip away. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, a silent declaration of his need for her. The world around them faded, and all that remained was the thunderous beat of their hearts and the sizzle of passion igniting between them.

The room spun as Jungkook's hand slid up her back, pushing the dress over her shoulders. It fell to the floor in a whisper of fabric, leaving her bare before him. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty laid out before him, his eyes dark with desire. His hands traced the curve of her spine, sending waves of pleasure rippling through her. His teeth grazed her earlobe, his breath hot as he whispered, "You're mine." It wasn't a question; it was a statement, a claim. Y/n's response was a soft moan, her body arching into his touch. The jealousy she had sensed in him earlier had transformed into something primal, a need to assert his dominance, to erase any doubt of who she belonged to.

With a growl, Jungkook picked her up, carrying her to the bed with a fierce tenderness. He laid her down, his eyes never leaving hers. He removed his jacket, revealing a t-shirt clinging to his muscular frame. The fabric was almost translucent with sweat, highlighting the contours of his body. His hands moved to his belt buckle, unhooking it with a swift, practiced motion. His pants followed, revealing low-slung boxers that barely contained his arousal. The sight of him, strong and unyielding, sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through her. He climbed onto the bed, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he reclaimed her lips. His touch grew more demanding, his kisses more insistent, and Y/n knew that tonight would be one of those nights when the lines between love and possession blurred into a single, intense emotion. The jealousy that had brought him here had only served to stoke the fire of their passion, and now, as they became lost in each other, it was clear that neither of them had any intention of letting go.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, urging him closer. Jungkook's hands slid under her, cupping her buttocks and lifting her up to meet his hardness. The friction of the fabric against her sensitive skin sent sparks through her body. He kissed a trail from her neck to her collarbone, his teeth nipping at her soft flesh. The sting of pain was a delicious counterpoint to the pleasure, and she found herself arching up to meet his mouth, silently begging for more. His fingers danced over the edge of her panties, teasing her, driving her to the brink of madness. The anticipation was unbearable, and she could feel herself getting wetter with every passing second. The room was filled with the sound of their harsh breaths, the scent of their desire hanging heavy in the air.

With a snarl, Jungkook yanked the scrap of fabric aside, exposing her to him fully. He didn't waste any time, his fingers delving into her wetness, finding her clit with unerring precision. Y/n's back bowed as she cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders. He worked her with a fervor that was almost violent, as if he was trying to brand her with his touch, to leave an indelible mark on her soul. She was close, so close, but she didn't want it to end. She wanted to feel him inside her, to be filled by his love, to be claimed by him completely. She whispered his name, a plea for more, and he responded by plunging two fingers into her, the sensation of being stretched almost too much sending her hurtling over the edge.

The orgasm ripped through her, making her entire body tremble. Jungkook watched her come apart with a fierce satisfaction, his eyes gleaming with triumph. But he wasn't done with her yet. He pulled his fingers out and brought them to his mouth, tasting her, savoring her. The sight was almost too much to bear, and Y/n felt a renewed surge of arousal at the raw, primal need in his gaze. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock pulsing with desire. With one hard thrust, he was inside her, filling her completely. They both groaned in unison, the intensity of the connection making their eyes lock. He began to move, his hips pistoning into her with a force that was almost punishing. Each thrust was a declaration of ownership, a promise that no one else would ever touch her the way he did. Y/n's nails raked down his back as she matched his rhythm, their bodies moving as one. The storm had arrived, and it was all-consuming.

The bed frame creaked under their passionate onslaught, the headboard banging against the wall in a staccato rhythm that echoed their hearts' beats. Jungkook's muscles tensed, his eyes never leaving hers, as he pushed her towards another peak. His hand slid down to grip her thigh, lifting it higher, opening her up even more. The new angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, and she bit her lip to keep from screaming his name. He knew her body better than she knew herself, every touch, every stroke designed to drive her wild. His other hand found her clit again, playing with it mercilessly as he continued to pound into her. The tension coiled tighter, the pressure building until she could hardly breathe. Her eyes rolled back, and she threw her head back, the room spinning around her as she succumbed to another orgasm, even more powerful than the first.

Jungkook's pace didn't slow. If anything, he grew more frantic, his movements more erratic. He could feel his own climax approaching, the heat building in his balls. He needed to claim her completely, to make her his in every way. His thumb circled her clit faster, his fingers digging into her thigh as he pushed himself deeper, harder. The sounds of their lovemaking filled the room, a symphony of gasps and grunts that grew louder with each passing second. The tension in his body grew unbearable, the pressure at the base of his spine threatening to shatter him into a million pieces. He knew he was close, so very close.

With a roar, Jungkook pulled out and flipped her onto her stomach. He grabbed her hips, pulling her back onto him, his cock sliding into her from behind. The sensation was overwhelming, the feeling of being filled so completely, so possessively. His hands were everywhere, gripping her hips, her waist, her breasts, as he fucked her with an urgency that was almost frightening. Y/n could feel the headboard digging into her stomach with each thrust, the pain mixing with the pleasure in a delicious cocktail that had her panting for more. He leaned over her, his breath hot on her neck as he whispered, "You're mine. Only mine." His words were a command, a declaration that sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine. Her orgasm built again, the sensation of being filled from behind pushing her over the edge. She came with a scream, her body convulsing around his, her inner walls tightening as she milked his cock.

Jungkook didn't last much longer. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her and came with a roar that seemed to shake the very foundations of the building. He collapsed on top of her, his breathing ragged, his body slick with sweat. They lay there, panting, their hearts hammering against each other. The storm had passed, leaving them both drained yet somehow more connected than ever. He kissed her shoulder, his hands gently stroking her back as they both came down from the high. The jealousy that had brought them to this moment had transformed into something darker, something deeper, something that bound them together in a way that nothing else could. And as they lay in the quiet aftermath, Y/n knew that she would do anything to keep this fiery passion burning, to be the only one to soothe the beast that raged within Jungkook's soul.

Slowly, they peeled apart, their limbs entwined in a tangle of sheets. Jungkook pulled her close, his arms a steel band around her waist. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he held her tightly. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice gruff. "I didn't mean to scare you." Y/n looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "You didn't," she assured him. "I liked it. It's like you couldn't get enough of me." A small smile played on her lips, and Jungkook's eyes flashed with something that could only be described as pure male satisfaction. He knew she was telling the truth; she had met him with the same fervor, the same need. It was as if the air between them had crackled with an unspoken understanding, a silent agreement that tonight was about claiming and being claimed.

They lay there for a while, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Jungkook's hand traced lazy patterns on her skin, his touch soothing the lingering ache from their passionate encounter. "What was that about?" she finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper. He sighed, his eyes opening to meet hers. "I saw someone watching us earlier," he admitted. "Someone who had no right to look at you the way they did." His jaw tightened at the memory, and Y/n felt a strange thrill at the possessiveness in his voice. "It just... it brought out something in me. Something I didn't even know was there."

Y/n nodded, her eyes searching his. She could see the turmoil in his gaze, the unspoken fear of losing her. She reached up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing over his full bottom lip. "You don't have to be jealous," she murmured. "You're all I want." His eyes searched hers, looking for the truth in her words. "But I am," he admitted. "I can't help it. You're so... incredible. And the thought of someone else touching you, making you feel the way I do..." His voice trailed off, and she could see the raw emotion in his eyes.

"Then I'll make sure to only make you feel that way," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him softly. The kiss grew deeper, more intense, as their bodies seemed to reawaken with a hunger that never truly abated. Jungkook rolled them over, his eyes never leaving hers as he positioned himself above her once more. This time, his touch was gentler, his movements slower. He kissed her with a reverence that made her feel like the most precious thing in the world, his hands exploring every inch of her body as if he were mapping the stars. His tongue traced the seam of her lips, coaxing them open for him.

Their kiss grew more heated, their bodies moving together in a dance that was as old as time itself. Jungkook's hand slid down her side, his fingers dancing over her skin until they reached her hip. He rolled her over, pulling her on top of him, his eyes never leaving hers. He watched as she positioned herself over him, her breasts bouncing slightly with the movement. The sight of her, so confident and beautiful, was almost too much to handle. His hands slid up to cup her breasts, his thumbs flicking her nipples in a way that made her gasp. She lowered herself onto him, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt him fill her once again.

Her movements were slow and deliberate, each roll of her hips a silent declaration of love. Jungkook's hands moved to her waist, guiding her, urging her to take him deeper. The pleasure was building again, a slow crescendo that promised to consume them both. The room was a cocoon of passion, their bodies moving together in perfect harmony. His hands slid down to her ass, gripping her firmly as he helped her set the pace, his hips rising to meet hers. They moved together, their breaths mingling, their bodies slick with sweat. The air was charged with an energy that seemed to crackle around them, a potent mix of love and lust that had them both on edge.

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rainynightwrites · 4 months ago

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˗ˏˋ turn me on ˎˊ˗

cw: 18+ content mdni. fem!reader. semi public sex. sylus calls reader kitten/sweetie several times. fingering. p in v. unprotected sex. choking. sylus being a tease. sylus degrading reader. sylus also praising reader. overstim. creampie. established relationship. this happens on sylus’ motorcycle. not proofread. ᯓᡣ𐭩

wc: 2.0k

sylus had taken you out to dinner for a little date night. on your way back to his place he took you up to the rooftop of one of the decrepit buildings on the outskirts of the n109 zone. sylus was leaning against his motorcycle as you stood near the ledge looking over the city. it was a strange mix of eerie silence, yet random ruckus of other vehicles and arguments between people below filled your ears.

despite the fact that the n109 zone was a lawless wasteland, you felt at peace here for some reason. you’ve chalked it up to being near sylus. i mean, how could you not feel safe around him? you watched a room full of men shoot at sylus, in an attempt to kill him, and he handled all of them without even breaking a sweat.

and he looked really fucking hot while doing it— but that is besides the point.

you turned around towards sylus, walking back to him. murmuring how you were ready to go back to his place. he stood up straight and put his hands on your hips pulling you closer, his eyes gleaming, “or, we could stay here a little longer. it’s just us up here, sweetie.” you knew that tone, you knew the look in his eyes, and yes, you could feel that he was more than half hard in his pants right now.

“sylus! we are out in public, this isn’t- we shouldn’t.” you knew better, anybody could see, literally. plus it’s the n109 zone, this wasn’t the safest place to do something like this.

“why not, kitten? i can fight, and anyways mephisto would let us know if someone were coming.” those damn red eyes, you truly never understood how you were able to focus when sylus stared at you so intently. “but it’s up to you, if you aren’t comfortable we can just go back to my place...”

sylus’ words faded away. you felt guilty for some reason, something twisted in your stomach, and you knew you were about to give in. your gaze drifted to his motorcycle behind him.

when you’d originally fantasized about sylus fucking you over his motorcycle, it didn’t include being on a damn rooftop. you thought it’d be in the garage of his place, safe from potential prying eyes.

you looked up at sylus, biting your lip as you nodded your head slowly. sylus moved in on you instantly, his big hands grabbing you by the backs of your thighs and plopping you down onto the seat of his motorcycle. “mhh, i thought so. such a good girl for me aren’t you, sweetie?”

throughout your relationship with sylus you learned that he is a switch. he had times where he just wanted you to use him for your pleasure, then he had times where he wanted to completely dominate you until you were nothing but a mindless, cock drunk slut. and tonight was definitely the latter.

“y-yeah, your good girl…” your words were soft. your breathing becoming more and more erratic by the second. sylus had already begun positioning you the way he wanted. bastard, he must’ve anticipated that you’d agree to such an act.

sylus draped your left leg over one of the handlebars on his motorcycle, then he grabbed your right leg and held it up against his body. he kissed the exposed skin above your ankle. sylus diligently moved your skirt out of the way with one hand. his other hand was inching up your stomach, starting an ascent up your body. his hand continued to move up your body, grazing your breasts ever so gently.

sylus was a master at stimulating you, maybe a little too good at it sometimes, especially when you plummeted into a cloudy headspace of need and desire. you’d been so distracted by watching him kiss your ankle and feeling him pinch your nipples through your shirt and bra that you’d completely forgotten his other hand working between your legs. you hadn’t even felt him move your panties to the side.

sylus’ red eyes bore into you and he slid one finger between your folds. “kitten,” it sounded so chastising. “i barely even touched you and you’re fucking soaked. that’s a little pathetic, don’t you think?”

“i can’t help it!” you protested, but when his finger swiped through your folds again and then drew a tight circle over your clit you nearly broke right then. your moan filled the stagnant air around you. he hummed like he was amused, you could feel a smirk forming on his lips as he placed another kiss higher up your calf this time, causing you to bend your leg awkwardly.

“i think, you just couldn’t wait to have me, could you, sweetie?” sylus punctuated his question by sliding his middle finger into your cunt and lazily tracing your clit with his thumb. his eyes never left your face, he watched every. single. reaction he drew from you. “oh come on, you’re always so brave. you love to talk back. why aren’t you doing it now?”

this wasn’t fair. at all. your lips started to form a soft pout but sylus put a quick end to that when he grazed your g-spot. your head dropped back as he effectively pulled another moan from your gorgeous lips.

you were already starting to fall into that cloudy headspace when you felt sylus draw a line with his tongue up your calf. and if that wasn’t bad enough the hand that had been playing with your nipples had now found it’s way around your neck. it was all a heady combination that sylus knew exactly how to exploit for the sounds and reactions he wanted from you.

“sylus!” his name rolled off your tongue in a high pitched whine. you hadn’t even realized how quickly your body was hurtling towards an orgasm.

sylus tightened his grip around your neck before plunging another finger inside you. “i can feel you clenching around my fingers, kitten. it’s so easy for me to wind you up, but fuck you are so beautiful this way. so desperate. i bet you can’t wait for my cock.”

your world narrowed, you could feel your pulse racing under sylus’ hand. the sounds he was pulling from you were obscene at this point. and it wasn’t just the sounds coming from your mouth, no, you were quite literally dripping. through half-lidded eyes you watched sylus finally break eye contact with you in favor of watching his fingers disappear into your soaked warmth.

just as you were about to cum he pulled his fingers from your core, studying the two fingers that had been buried inside you. they glistened in the low lighting on the rooftop.

“sylus! no, please. i was so close, i-“ your babbling was cut off by hazily watching sylus bring his fingers to his mouth and suck your arousal off them. his eyes slid closed as he savored your flavor.

“shh, just be patient. i enjoy seeing you so worked up for me. does it feel like your nerve endings are blazing yet?” he let go of your throat, tracing his fingers softly down one of your arms. his eyes were all but glowing in the night, it was distracting and mesmerizing— he looked at you like you were special. that made your stomach flip in a good way.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, but yes, you felt like your entire body was on fire. every touch, every little graze had your body acting as if it were a live wire ready to snap.

sylus unbuttoned his pants, and pulled his cock out in one smooth motion. you watched him stroke himself once, twice. you licked your lips as you saw the precum seeping from the slit. his cock was…for lack of better terms, perfect. a perfect length, a perfect girth, the perfect amount of curve. it hit the spot every time it was inside you.

sylus didn’t give you much time to process his actions though, he dragged the fat head of his cock through your warm, wet folds and then buried himself inside you in one quick thrust.

“oh my god.” you somehow managed to choke out between a moan. sylus laughed as he watched your eyes roll back when he pushed himself fully into your cunt. “sweetie, there’s not a single god or deity that’s gonna come and save a cock drunk, needy little slut such as yourself.”

your walls clenched around his cock immediately. something about his unhinged words made you feel strange, yet even more turned on than you already were. you were panting at this point, a constant string of whines and moans falling from your lips.

you’ve come to terms with the fact that sylus was is just that good at sex. it almost concerned you that he’d managed to reduce you to such a state with only his hands so quick before even fucking you. you’ve fallen apart at his hands and mouth— cock too, so many times you’ve lost count. it’s easy for you to lose yourself in him, with him.

“what a pretty girl for me, such a beautiful thing to see you this way, all for me, only me.” sylus mused as he thrust into you at a relentless pace that had you seeing stars. sure, you liked being degraded by sylus, but the praise— oh, how you thrived on it.

sylus slid one hand between your bodies until his thumb found your clit again, he lazily drew right circles before leaning forward causing your knees to hit your shoulders. he easily folded you in half while you were sat on his motorcycle, you weren’t sure how it was still upright. you were more concerned with the fact that the new angle allowed sylus’ cock deeper into your velvety walls.

“sy-sylus! fuck, i’m close!” “it’s okay, you let go whenever you need to, darling. sing for me.” sylus leaned forward more until his lips pressed against yours. you immediately threaded your fingers through his silvery hair, melting into the kiss with zero hesitation. the kiss itself was messy, all teeth and tongues. all your moans and whines became muffled by his mouth.

his cock dragged along your inner walls with such precision. he hit your g-spot with every thrust. the head of his cock grazing your cervix, that alone sent a spark through body. two, three, four more thrusts later and your walls were squeezing his cock so tightly, the velvet heat of your cunt rippling as you came undone for him.

“good girl, such a good fucking girl coming on my cock like that. do you have any idea how beautiful you sound when you let go?” sylus didn’t slow, your euphoric orgasm quickly turning to overstimulation. your eyes welling with tears as you gasped and whined. writhing slightly beneath sylus. the motorcycle didn’t allow for much movement though.

“almost there, just- mmpfh. just a little longer, i promise. you’re doing so well, taking everything so well.” sylus’ fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he chased his release. your body began to tremble from the continuing stimulation. your walls becoming so sensitive.

sylus buried himself fully inside your cunt, and he stilled above you. his breath coming out in warm huffs. occasional soft grunts filled your ears. warm ropes of his cum painted your inner walls. sylus pressed his forehead against yours, not daring to pull out just yet.

“thank you, kitten,” sylus wiped the tears that had collected on your lashes away and pressed soft kisses around your face; on your cheeks, your chin, your lips, your nose, and your forehead. his eyes softer now, and he didn’t want to let you go. you were precious to him, you both knew it.

while what you just did was a little crazy and risky, you couldn’t help but be happy that your date night ended this way. however, you suspected that when you and sylus were able to move and make it back to his place, neither of you would be getting much sleep tonight.

⊹₊⟡⋆ thanks for reading. ⊹₊⟡⋆

tags: @honeyandlore @nanami1slut

#⏾⋆.˚ k's works #i wrote more than i anticipated…#oh well!#love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace sylus smut #sylus smut #sylus x reader #lnds sylus #lnds smut #lnds sylus x reader #l&ds sylus #l&ds smut #l&ds sylus x reader #l&ds sylus drabble #lnds sylus smut #l&ds sylus smut

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enwoso · 5 months ago

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Hi, would you write a lovie fic where she’s learning how to ride her bike? And in the learning process she takes some tumbles, but in the end she learns it.

balancing act | alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

it was a sunny day in london, painting the backyard in hues of gold and orange as alessia crouched down, adjusting the pink helmet strap on your chin, to stop it scratching. your wild little curls peeking out from under the helmet and a determined glint in your big blue eyes as you gripped the handlebars of your small pink bike.

the training wheels had officially came off and alessia's heart was doing an uneven dance between excitement but also worry and dread.

"you ready then, lovie?" your mummy asked, giving your cheek a gentle squeezed as you looked up a big grin on your face.

you had been begging your mummy for the past few weeks to take the training wheels of your bike telling her you were a big girl and didn't need them anymore and had nothing to do with the fact that all your friends from school were also learning to ride their bikes without training wheels.

"i'm ready!" you declared, your tiny hands tightening on the handlebars as your mummy positioned you so you were facing down the driveway as she silently hoped you were out the way of her car - not wanting it to get scratched.

with a soft smile, alessia placed her hands on the back of the seat, steadying the bike for you. "okay, remember to look ahead and keep pedalling. i've got you."

you gave her a resolute nod as your face scrunched up in concentration, alessia pushed gently on the back of the seat as she jogged alongside you as the little bike wobbled forward. and for a few glorious seconds, you were actually doing it. the pedals turned and you and the bike seemed to stay upright as you let out a excited giggle.

but then, the inevitable happened. the dread that had lingered in alessia's head happened.

the front wheel veered slightly and you tipped to the side, alessia's hands reached out trying to catch you but it was too late as you tumbled onto the grass on the side of the pavement.

you sat up, your lip quivering as you clutched your scraped knee. "owie" you whimpered, your fingers hovering over the fresh scrape.

"oh, lovie" your mummy cooed, scooping you up into her arms, kissing the top of your head as she brushed a stray tear that had escaped from your cheek, "lets get you inside and patched up!"

alessia carrying you into the kitchen before lifting you onto the counter and rummaged throught a drawer for a box of plaster, ones with a cartoon character of course as in your mind they worked so much better than the boring normal ones.

your tiny legs swinging back and forth as you watched your mummy carefully clean the scrape with a damp cloth. "does it hurt a lot?" your mummy asked softly, placing the cloth to one side.

"a little" you admitted but your voice wasn't as small as alessia had expected it to be.

"okay, now this plaster is magic" your mummy said with a grin as she peeled of a bright blue strip decorated with cartoon stars, "this will make you all better in no time!"

you gave your mummy an amused look, "magic?"

"absolutely, doctor mummy guarantees it!" alessia pressed the plaster gently over the scrape, giving it a little pat for good measure. as alessia turned to toss the wrapper away, she heard your little voice, matter of fact and full of determination.

"can we go back outside now?"

alessia froze, blinking as she processed the request, turning back to you as you were already trying to wriggle off the counter, "wait- you want to keep trying?"

"yeah!" your face lit up with a smile as you spoke so full of confidence as if it was the most obvious thing you could have ever said. "i need to learn by myself!"

for a second, alessia just stared at you, a tiny whirlwind of stubbornness and resolve that you were as alessia thought back to her own childhood and how she would always feel more determined after the smallest of failures.

but here you were, your knee scraped most likely still stinging and you were ready to jump back on the bike as if nothing had happened. a big swell of pride filled alessia's chest it was making it ache slightly.

"okay," your mummy said, brushing a small strand of hair out of your face, "let me just grab a bottle of water first. and if you feel tired we stop, okay?"

"ok mummy!" you chirped and already halfway to the door to put your trainers back on after your mummy had dumped them at the front door when she carried you in.

once you both got back outside the sun was lower, as it casted shadows across the grass. alessia steadying the bike once more, her hands firm but gentle on the seat.

"let's try again," this time, alessia could tell something was different. your wobbling was a little less wobbly, your pedalling was a little more confident as then all of a sudden, you didn't need your mummy's hands there to keep you steady.

"thats it! keep doing it!" your mummy cheered as she clapped loudly her voice high with excitement. your face breaking into a wide grin as you realised what was happening.

you were riding your bike. by yourself.

"im doin' it! mummy! look i can do it!" you cried with excitement as the same small giggles left your lips. alessia clapped her hands, pride radiating from every pore as she jogged beside you. tears pricking at her eyes as she blinked them away, focusing on this moment.

when you finally came to a triumphant stop, as the pavement has ran out, you hopped off the bike, throwing your arms around your mummy's leg as she scooped you up into her arms. "i did it!"

"you did it, lovie!" your mummy murmured, twirling you around with chorus of cheers and laugher, "i'm so so so proud of you!"

you grinned, resting your head on your mummy's shoulder, "you were right the plaster was magic!" you giggled out.

alessia laughed as she held you close as she shook her head, "no baby, your the magic."

in the glow of the setting sun, you rode your bike back home perfectly before leaving it triumphantly in the garage before listing off what you wanted for dinner that nigh as alessia while listening to your list realised she had just witnessed a small but extraordinary moment - your first taste of determination and victory.

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso blurbs #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #england women #awfc #engwnt #grumpy universe asks #grumpy universe #enwoso

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specsthesecond · 8 months ago

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ʚ😇ɞ

The Angels wings shudder, beautiful white feathers tremble under your sinful touch.

You coo lightly in his ear as you shift his pristine white robes off of him, leaving him as naked as you are, save for his white blindfold. It doesn't take much coaxing to have his knees buckling into a knelt position on the floor, his hands still together in prayer, as if his God is still listening.

Sobs can be heard just a few feet away, coming from the Priest. He sobs into his praying hands, bowing his head low, trying to pray away the debauched scene in front of him.

The Angel he prayed for was now being violated by the very demon he was praying for protection from. Now he has doomed not only himself but his Angel to sin.

You push the angel's thighs open wider for you and the Priest watches you gaze hungrily at the Angel's pretty cock. Silent tears fall from under the Angel's blindfold and you gently wipe them away. You whisper reassurances against his soft lips and trail kisses all the way down to where he needed you most. Honestly, if God didn't want you to fuck his angels, why the hell did he make them so pretty?

You lick a hot wet stripe from his balls to the red leaking tip and he shudders out a moan into his clasped hands. You reach up to free his hands, bringing them down and circling his fingers around your horns. You encourage his hands to push your head so that you take his cock down your eager throat. His grip tightens and his wings curl inwards in pleasure. Your hands stroke his thighs as you wait for him to make you take the rest of his cock when he figures out that you're not moving unless he moves you himself. If he's going to sin, he should at least have an active role in it.

You hear a faint 'Plap plap plap' and open your eyes to peer to the side where the Priest fists his own cock while watching you ruin his Angel. You hum around the Angel's cock, watching the Priest fall back into the depraved pervert he always was just makes your insides burn with pride.

The Angel sniffles a whine, tears fall down his soft cheeks and his hands shake in restraint. The vibrating of your moan and the sound of the Priest's sinful motions is enough to break the Angel as he pulls you by the horns, making you take his cock till he bottoms out. You close your eyes and suck lightly, a simple motion that has him bucking into your mouth, rubbing your nose against his soft pubic hair.

It takes him a minute to get into a rhythm but eventually he's fully fucking your face, moving you deliberately up and down his shaft and using your horns like handlebars. You moan and drool around him, slick spit spilling down your chin and down his balls. The priest's grunts are animalistic and you're sure he's almost about to cum, so you pick up the pace on your pretty Angel, getting him just as close.

Just before the Priest reaches his peak, your tail reaches out and wraps around the man's cock and balls, slapping his hand away and effectively ruining his orgasm completely. The Priest shouts pained protests but you can only focus on the Angel as he's just about to climax. You shake your head free of the Angel's clutches, reaching up to swallow all his frantic whines in an open-mouthed kiss. The Angel struggles harshly, wings beating frantically. You have to pin his hands down as he struggles and cries into your mouth. Clearly, he wasn't expecting the sex demon to have denied him his release like that.

Both man and angel shake with intense need, mourning the loss of their climax, cursing the beast that would lure them to sin but not let them indulge in the very pleasure they sinned for.

But this is just the start, you have so much to show them. Denial only makes their lustful desire greater and you intend to lure them so deep into sin that they never even think a virtuous thought ever again.

#lets get sacrilegious!!!#monster fucker #monster x human #monster lover #monster x reader #monster fucking #exophelia #terato #terat0philliac #angel

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serendipitylily · 10 months ago

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Just A Ride

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: Logan seduces Scott’s girlfriend.

Warnings: nsfw, smut, grinding, cheating, reader is scott's gf

word count: 848

been rewatching the xmen movies… my obsession has returned! part two here!

You were leaning against the cold wall of the mansion's hanger, taking a small rest. You had just gotten back from a mission with a few scrapes and bruises, nothing too serious. You could already heard enough from your boyfriend, Scott, who had chastised you for not being careful enough.

As you walk through the room you see a familiar figure leaning against Scott’s bike, a smug smirk on his lips.

“Looks like you took a hit darlin’” Logan’s voice rough and low as his eyes scanned up and down your body, noticing a particularly large gash on your arm.

“It’s just a scratch,” you tell him, trying your best to ignore the way he undresses you with his eyes. You can’t help but shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

He had always looked at you this way, and it angered Scott beyond belief. Anytime the two of you were in the same room, his eyes would be locked onto you.

“Damn shame, wouldn’t have happened if I was there” he tells you, that cocky tone of voice making your stomach flutter.

“Is that right?” You responded, a small smile tugging at your lips despite trying to suppress it.

Logan pushed off the bike and walked closer to you, quickly closing the gap between your bodies.

“Yep.” His voice was rough and low as his hand traced the doctored wound on your arm. “No one would have touched you if I was around.”

You felt your body heat up at his slight touch, but you tried to ignore it and rolled your eyes at him. “Scott was there,” you muttered in defense.

Logan laughed, “Scott’s heads too far up his own ass to know when his girl’s in trouble.” he shot back.

“And you deserve better than that” Logan leaned closer, his breath warm on your skin. You knew this was wrong, your mind was filled with guilt at the thought of betraying Scott.

You tried to ignore the way your heart beat sped up at his words. He was so close to you, too close. You could smell the blend of leather and smoke from him.

Before you could even respond, Logan’s hands gripped your hips. He lifted you with ease, sitting you onto the seat of Scott’s bike.

The leather was cool against your growing heat as Logan positioned you on the edge of the seat, your hands instinctively reached out to grip the handlebars.

Logan sat himself behind you, his large hands still firm on your hips as he started coaxing you to grind against the leather seat.

You gasped at the pressure, a shiver running down your spine. “Logan…” You pleaded in a weak voice.

Your hips started to roll with his rhythm, your clit rubbing against the bumpy texture. You bit your bottom lip hard, the mix of shame and desire fighting within you. “Please…” You mewled.

“Please what?” He taunted, his lips pressed to the side of your neck, his teeth lightly grazing your sensitive skin. “Please stop, or please keep going?”

You couldn’t answer, you knew that you should stop, but the way that Logan was touching you - you couldn’t.

“You want this don’t you?” He growled, one of his hands snaking under your top and sqeezing your breast. His calloused fingers pinched your nipple hard enough to make you to yelp.

Your hips grind harder against the leather, with every roll you could feel Logan’s hard bulge against your ass. The friction - the heat, it was overwhelming.

“Cheating on Cyclops like this…” Logan’s eyes were dark with a lust filled hunger as he growled against the skin of your neck. “Now you see what you’ve been missin’.”

You could feel a surge of heat pooling between your legs at his words, even knowing you should be fighting against this, but you couldn’t stop your body.

His hand moved to unbutton your jeans, pulling down the zipper agonizingly slow. You could feel his lips against your neck, nipping and sucking on your skin. It sent a quiver through your body.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Logan murmured, his hand slipped under the hem of your jeans and brushed your sensitive skin.

You couldn’t.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck. Logan accepted your silent approval and glided his hand under your panties, his fingers finding your wetness.

He groaned as his large fingers slid along your slick folds, it didn’t take him long to find your sensitive bud.

Your back arched against his chest, his fingers circling your aching clit. A knot was forming in your stomach, you could feel your core tighten from the taboo pleasure.

“Bet you don’t get this wet for golden boy do you?” Logan growled, his hot breath against your skin. His other hand then moved to your thigh, pushing your legs wider for better access.

You were too engulfed in Logan’s groans against your skin to hear the muffled footsteps outside the door. His hand was still down your pants when the hangar door slid open.

“What the fuck?”

#xmen #x men #logan #logan howlett #james howlett #wolverine #marvel #logan x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine smut #xmen smut #x men smut #logan howlett smut

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sleepingelvhen · 1 year ago

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Imagine Sunday basking in the attention you give him. He may not be so showy, but if you are, he will accept each touch with a little cat-like smile, his eyes lidded as he watches you. Almost like he's waiting for you to do something you're not supposed to. Like...say...touching his wings, for example.

And, of course, you'd touch those little wings. So small and fluffy like his hair, tucked snug behind his ears, occasionally fluttering from the way the breeze feels against them. And just as you would brush one thumb against them, your wrist would be in his hand, and he'd be looking down at you as if he were about to scold you.

You swore you'd never seen such darkness in his gaze. He'd probably chide you for even trying, kissing your wrist as his face relaxed. But those shadows were still there.

Just rile him up a little and see how that goes. Stroke his wings and watch as he presses you against a wall and growls in your ear. Watch that calm mask he wears fall right off, and how quickly your body becomes his playground.

Imagine how slow he'd be with you. Gentle kisses down the column of your throat, fingers gentle and yet demanding as they hold you still or move you around to his desire. He'd take his time, and no amount of whining or begging will change that. You tried to take control, tried to rile him up, and he was here to show you how wrong you were.

Sunday was always in control.

Now, if you want to really rile him up, really get under his skin, then getting him jealous would be the best way to do that. Even mentioning being alone with another or being flirted with will get him a little irritated. But insinuating more?

You'll be on your hands and knees, bruises decorating every inch of skin. He'd remind you who you belong to, and damn it will everyone else in Penacony know by the end of the night.

You were his and no one else's.

Don't expect him to let you out of his sight for a while. Now you're using his shampoo and conditioner, now you're required to wear his gifts everywhere. And now, any man who approaches you suddenly finds themselves unable to dream for a while. How strange.

This won't last forever. You'll have to face his punishment for manipulating him like that, and he will make you promise to never do it again lest the punishments get worse over time.

Imagine how Sunday is in bed aside from all that. He's normally gentle aside from the possessiveness in his touches and tone of voice. Though normally quiet, his moans are soft sighs, and sometimes, if you get to take control, you can get him to whimper.

Pull his hair, kiss his throat, tease him, and whisper words of pure affection and praise, and he's putty in your hand. Sunday lives for praise, and he gives it back ten-fold.

He loves seeing you on top, his hands on your hips, guiding you and watching you with a lazy smile on his face. The perfect position to touch every part of your body and watch your face as you get closer and closer.

If you want him to be rougher, all you have to do is ask. Or grab his wings as if they're handlebars. That's how you get him to growl, to moan obscenities into your ear, and fuck you desperately. Quick thrusts, rough as he pushes you into the bed, telling you how you belong to him. Reminding you of your position.

Sunday is the master of aftercare. No matter how stressed or tired he is, you will be cared for and cleaned. He will draw a bath, clean you, and brush your hair. Honestly, it becomes a bit of a spa day.

He becomes super affectionate and lovey-dovey afterward. Holding you close, breathing in your scent, whispering his love for you, all while caressing your body with gentle massages.

It's easy to fall asleep in his arms, then, and he will kiss you as you do.

#sunday x reader #hsr sunday #sunday smut #hsr sunday smut #hsr sunday x reader #hsr fanfic #hsr smut #smut fanfiction #reader insert #honkai star rail #fanfic #honkai star rail smut #reader imagine #hsr imagines

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broad-shouldrs · 1 month ago

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Hold On To Me || Chapter 1

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

word count: ~1,240

summary: you weren’t supposed to be here—stuck at a summer camp your dad signed you up for. but joel’s here too: your neighbor, your boss, a single dad, frustratingly competent and infuriatingly attractive.

you shouldn’t want him. he definitely shouldn’t want you.

warnings: dbf! Joel (but he didn't know you as a kid). age gap. au!no outbreak. pining. slow burn. eventual smut.

a/n: this is my first time posting fic on tumblr/a03, so please bear with me as i venture out into this scary ass world.

chapters 1-5 are currently posted on a03

You were 21, in your junior year of college, when your dad decided that Dallas was too much — too expensive, too crowded, filled with too many memories. He sold the house, packed up, and bought a fixer-upper just outside of Austin. Your dad was convinced that it had good bones.

“Ain’t nothin’ I can’t fix.” You’d heard your dad say more than once and from the updates he sent it seemed like maybe he was right.

Dad: Carpets comin’ out today. Fingers crossed for hardwood.

Dad: Kitchen wall was a bitch to take out. Nothin’ your old man can’t handle. White for the cabinets?

Dad : Guy ‘cross the street saw me up on the roof. Probably thought I was crazy ‘cause I was yellin’ at the gutters.

Dad : Name's Joel. Doesn't think I’m crazy. Got a nice kid.

Dad: Me & Joel went to Home Depot today to finish up the back deck. All those holes? Gone.

Dad : We're gettin' a pool, kid. Joel knows a guy who can fix’er up. Does this mean you’re coming home for the summer?

Dad : Can’t wait to see you. Finished settin’ up your room yesterday.

Dad : Painted the front door red. Can’t miss it. Drive safe. T-minus 12 hours.

You double-check that last text as you signal a right turn and make your way down the street. Taking a look around what seems to be your new neighborhood, you slow to a reasonable speed, checking the numbers on the surrounding houses. A group of middle-school aged kids pedal their bikes past you, full of laughter and smiles. The boys are attempting to show off and pop wheelies and the girls seem to be unenthused, in their own little world. How simple life had been.

As you continue, you watch as one of the girls starts to gain speed, kicking the pedals as fast as she can before pulling up on the handlebars. She gains just a second of air before losing her balance and tumbling off her bike. You step on the brakes with a light screech, grateful that your dad had the sense to change your rotors last time he had seen you.The other kids have moved to the sidewalk now, none too worried about the girl’s fall.

You can't help but feel bad for the girl and you call out the window. “You alright?”

She looks up at you, wary of the unfamiliar voice as she rubs at her brow. “M’fine. Not really supposed to talk to strangers.” Blood starts to trickle down her face, causing her to wince. “Shit.”

“I live just up the road. Can I lend a hand gettin' you back home?”

It’s clear she doesn’t believe you. She wipes her gravel ridden hands off on her denim shorts and pulls herself up. “I know pretty much everyone around here. Never seen you.”

Her parents should be proud. You get it, of course, your dad taught you about stranger danger. But, you’re a little too worried about that cut on her forehead.

“My dad moved in while I was at school. Listen, that looks like it might need stitches.”

She rolls her eyes at you and picks up her bike by the handlebars. "You sound like my dad." She wobbles for a moment and you suck in a nervous breath.

"What'd you say your name was?"

You tell her your dad’s name and you notice her demeanor shift. She visibly perks up, her eyes a little less cautious and the corners of her lips turning into a smile. “You don’t look like the photos he has up.”

You can’t help but laugh. Typical dad move. You’re almost positive that he hasn’t updated a single picture frame in ten years.

“I’m Sarah.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your dad isn’t even home. His truck is missing from the driveway and since you don’t yet have a key, Sarah waves you over to her house.

She’s dropped her bike on her front lawn when you walk over and you can’t help but grimace at her injury.

“We should probably clean that off. Looks bad.”

As you step onto the porch, the front door swings open revealing what you can only assume to be Sarah's dad. Your father's new best friend. Joel.

He’s older than you expected — late forties, maybe — but it suits him. Broad-shouldered and sun-warmed, with lines etched deep into his face from years of squinting into the sun, and hands that look like they’ve spent a lifetime building, fixing, carrying. He moves with a kind of quiet steadiness, like nothing rattles him, like the ground’s always solid beneath his feet.

The attraction is instant. Inconvenient. And impossible to ignore.

“What the hell happened?”

“She fell,” you start, swallowing to rid yourself of how dry your mouth has become. “On her bike. Cut her eyebrow pretty bad.”

Joel moves past you without acknowledgment, crouching in front of Sarah and tilting her chin towards the light.

“Jesus, kid. That’s gonna need stitches.”

Sarah groans. “It’s not that bad.”

"You say that every time,” Joel mutters, shaking his head. “Get inside. Bathroom.”

Sarah turns away and waves at you before trudging inside without argument.

Joel fixes his eyes on you — sharp, assessing, with something unreadable flickering behind them. It knocks the breath out of you a little. “You live ‘round here?”

The stern tone of his voice is hot. There’s no way around it. The way his brow furrows, the way he crosses his arms like he’s already decided you’re someone to keep an eye on—it shouldn’t work, but it does. The entire protective father thing looks good on him. Too good.

You don’t trust your voice not to falter, not with the way your heart is thudding, not with the way he’s still looking at you like he’s trying to figure you out. So you just gesture toward your house, hoping he doesn’t notice the heat rising in your cheeks.

Joel blinks once. “Wait. Your dad?”

You nod, trying to keep your face neutral, even as something flickers in his expression — surprise or the fast math of realizing you're not just some college kid passing through, but the daughter of the man he's been helping with renovations for the past few months.

He runs a hand over his jaw, gaze flicking toward your front door, then back to you. “Huh.”

That’s all he says. Just huh. But it lands heavy, like he’s recalibrating. Like maybe this changes things. You’re not sure whether that’s a good thing or not, but it makes your pulse skip all the same.

Joel shakes his head as if he's resetting his impression of you. “Guess I was off by a few years.”

His eyes turn back to you, caught a little off guard. He hadn’t really looked at you like that — not until now. He rubbed the back of his neck, like he didn’t know if he should apologize or just keep going.

“No, I just—" He hesitated, eyes narrowing again as if he were still piecing it all together. “I thought you were just some kid.”

“Just some kid, huh?”

Joel cleared his throat. “Your dad never mentioned you were—“ He cut himself off but his gaze lingered and his jaw tightened.

After a beat he finally spoke. “Well, I ‘preciate you bringin' Sarah home.” He shifted, one hand on the door frame. “F'you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

As you walked back to your car, you couldn’t shake the interaction. Your heart was pounding in a way that felt completely ridiculous. You had just met the guy, but something about the way he looked at you made your skin flush, settling somewhere low, warm, and distracting.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #dbf joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller ff #fic: hold on to me

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formylovetodaryldixon · 3 months ago

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"Paper Cuts." CH1—Daryl Dixon.

Chapter summary: Two encounters and one feeling produced in his chest seem to be enough to make Daryl want to get closer to you.

A/N: Sorry if this is bad. It's about 8am in Peru and I haven't slept, but I really hope you like it! Thank you so much for giving it a try♥ (I'm sorry for the grammatical errors, I'll correct them)

Intro

Silence.

Just three seconds of infinite peace that quiet down the chaos of his world, seconds in which Daryl captures your gaze in his blue eyes before you look away, dropping the gesture of your hand and your smile. And alone again, Daryl finally swallows the water inside his mouth (taking a break from that frown that lingered on his face all that tedious day) his world becoming noisy again with all the sounds inside the motorcycle repair shop, and the throbbing pain in his head thanks to the hangover that seemed to have no end. But with a smooth movement, as if you could blend into that faded place, Daryl watches you stop behind the owner of the '92 Honda he'd been fixing the past few days, but there's something captivating about the way you listen to the owner of the place talking to your brother, how your gaze deepens with the color of your eyes, as if you've never overlooked anything. Unwittingly, Daryl films everything about you within his eyes, a memory in his mind of someone like you, from the way you tilt your head slightly to pay attention to the way you are dressed, wearing a loose white cardigan that somehow, makes you look younger, almost innocent.

"Hey, Dixon..." Calls Tomas, the owner, waving his hand. "Could you explain the details of the bike to the gentleman?"

No, Daryl thinks bitterly, nodding. The path is short, but in the first few steps he takes while wiping his hands on his pocket square, your brother takes his cell phone out of his pants while whispering something to you, walking away after leaving that affectionate kiss on your temple.

Daryl's frown reappears as he stops beside you, the two of you alone now, so you simply shrug.

"Sorry. Looks like you're about to give me the diagnosis of my brother's baby."

"Yer brother." Right there, his face relaxes again as he processes your words in a split second. You nod, but it's almost funny how his strong features reach, almost, the point of innocence while he looks back at you (although nothing about him seemed innocent), just for a moment before adopting that almost accusatory stance again. "No offense, but I don' think ya’ll understand what m’ ‘bout to explain to ya."

You let a out a short laugh.

“Wow, that's pretty bold of you, and so condescending.” You frown with irony, but there's no real annoyance in your expression, only a reflection of the mocking comment you're about to make. “Well, it's a '92 Honda, isn't it? CB750. As for its ride quality and brakes: it has a high, I'd say upright, seating position, wide handlebars, and a good turning circle that sounds good for city work when my brother wants to play the ‘bad boy’ card, but the bike is heavy, and this can detract from it, but I guess girls don't know that when they just want to ride it—and the person riding the motorcycle, of course. And I'd explain, but I don't think you'd understand. No offense, though.”

And to his own surprise, Daryl finds himself listening to his own short laugh, which mingles with that scoff he used to use to dismiss others (however, he can't help but show that hint of surprise on his face before it disappears as quickly as it came)

“So ya know ‘bout bikes?” The irony in his voice is evident, but you shake your head.

"No. Only about this one, but I wanted to see if I could shut you up with my vast knowledge."

He scoffs, but for some strange reason, as Daryl begins to explain the almost solved problems of the motorcycle, for a fleeting moment, a nervousness like no other invades him the second you look away from him. It's stupid, he thinks as he steals glances from you, but maybe it's his own surprise at seeing someone like you, who looks so cultured and educated, probably with a nice diploma from some expensive university, talking to him and even laughing with him, or at him, even though he doesn't care at that second. And it's funny how the person who was always judged by his appearance would judge someone else for the exact same reason, but bad habits are the hardest to break.

When Daryl finishes, you nod again, plastering on a gentle, grateful smile, without a hint of sarcasm this time.

"Okay, I'll let my brother know. Thank you for your time, Mr. Dixon."

A second or a lifetime while you turn to leave, there's something about the way your lively eyes seem to sparkle with sincerity over something so simple, as if a simple thank you could mean so much, and that has Daryl swallowing the uncomfortable lump in his throat, just to find his voice as he sees you walking away.

"M’ Daryl, by the way."

You pause at the end of another step, turning around to lock eyes with him, as if his deep voice holds some charm.

"(Y/N), nice to meet you." Then, you’re gone.

Daryl Dixon had always been a solitary person: since the time he was a child, when he had to survive life's adversities instead of living his childhood and adolescence like any other child or teenager. Daryl had literally made his way through life, getting into so many fights that it was normal for his mother to see him come home with bruises from time to time growing up, though nothing compared to the beatings his father gave him while his mother watched silently, doing nothing to protect her own son. Over time, the fears and insecurities Daryl harbored inside, like any normal child, abandoned him from a young age when he had to face solo a world that showed him only cruelty, leaving him like an iceberg, as cold as the color of his eyes, a the deep ocean that can drown you in its waves. It's majestic, yet deadly dangerous.

The moment Daryl closes the door to his old apartment after a day of work that should have ended at 7 instead of 9, the gray walls feel cold against the exposed skin of his sleeveless shirt, with the paint peeling with time and the fact that neither of the Dixon brothers cared to repaint it, oblivious to a place that was never home, only a house while living in their own world. Daryl drops his keys on the entryway table, ignoring the way his brother, sitting on the couch, barely notices his existence as he walks all the way across the living room to the dining area behind the couch.

"I thought ya weren't workin’ today, lil’ brotha." Merle sips his beer, eyes fixed on the TV.

"Why?" Daryl frowns, grabbing a bottle from the refrigerator.

"I heard ya bitchin’ around as ya dragged yerself to the bathroom. Told ya not to drink durin’ the week."

The youngest Dixon snorts.

“Like ya were a fuckin’ role model, asshole.”

Daryl disappears down the hall with the beer and an empty stomach, missing the way Merle laughs, raising the bottle in salute before drinking it all.

With no protective figure in sight at home and at the mercy of a dictator with the title of dad, you tend to go out when the coast is clear, or when the cop with the alcohol problem is stuck on night shifts. With a promise to behave and another kiss from the only man who didn't imprison you in a glass cage, you venture out into the streets of a city that, once the night had swallowed the sun, glows with its own light thanks to the neon signs. Sometimes your world is dark, despite the blinding lights of some clubs, and it's filled with your fears, as if they're out to get you, but it's comforting to hear your best friend speak, and how her voice, with a touch of sweetness, masks her wild and childish heart. And something, that turns your saddest days into the sunniest.

"I need to sleep on a bicep tonight." You laugh at her words, shaking your head, keeping your hands protected inside your jacket pocket, but offering her stability as she links her arm with yours. "Do you want to try your luck in the lucky one?"

You scoff, mocking the bar's ridiculous name as she pushes the door open, sinking into loud music whose lyrics you can't quite understand as she guides you to an empty table. People all over the place seem to be enjoying themselves with their own fun conversations, like an elderly couple who remind you of your grandparents, a young woman with pink hair that pops beautifully, and a young man with familiar eyes who catches you in his gaze (a few brief seconds for you to realize his hair is light brown, but with a look of a slight, innocent surprise on his face when he recognizes you) before you look away.

As you sit in the window seats, you also notice he's with a young man who works at the repair shop too, though Daryl didn't seem like the kind of person who went through life with anyone other than his own shadow: and just his name in your mind makes a current run through your body.

"Are you okay, honey?"

Sam's worried frown disappears when you dismiss it with a nod.

"Can you order something with colors? I want people to think I'm fun."

She laughs at you, standing up, the warmth of her fingers sliding over your chin.

“You’re funny. Sarcastic as hell, but funny.”

She leaves and quickly returns, leaving a tall glass on your table. To you, all drinks taste strong and a little bit disgusting, and yet, you gulp a sip all the way down your throat, hating it but savoring the numbness that will soon follow. For a few minutes, everything is peaceful until someone always notices how Sam glows with her own light even in the darkest night, as if people can easily see her bright colors, like the young man with the wild hair that commands her full attention, enjoying themselves in the dance floor, with the sway of a few bodies dancing here and there, too. You chuckle when Sam points to the young man’s bicep, but you move from the table to the bar on the other side of it, as if that puts a barrier between you and the rest. The bartender smiles at you, handing you another glass when yours runs out after a long moment.

“Hi, darling.” A young man bringing you back to the present, sitting next to you. Blond, with green eyes like the cat you had as a child, and dressed in a grey suit that shines, but it just looks so expensive. “Are you new in this bar? It’s the first time I’ve seen someone as pretty as you around here.”

His flirting and smile are cheeky, not funny for your moment of self–pity, and you don’t want to do this right now. Pretending to care.

“That’s very kind, but I’m waiting for someone and—”

“Oh…” He stops, and his smile almost fades. “Your boyfriend?”

You don't like lying, and the blush gives you away.

“Yes.”

“Liar! You overthought it.” He laughs. “My name is James…”

He extends his hand. Accepting it would give him the wrong idea, but you were taught to be polite, to never forget your manners, so you do.

“(Y/N),” You say, but letting it go fast because even his skin looks expensive, because maybe his skincare routine was more expensive than yours. “Look, I don't mean to be rude—”

“Come on, babe.” He leans forward, interrupting your rejection as he invades your personal space roughly. “I'm just trying to start a conver—”

A short laugh full of sarcasm interrupts him.

“Hey, babe...” You glance over your left shoulder at the sound of a raspy voice, and you're stunned to see Daryl next to you, looking at James. “Sorry, bro, she's already taken.”

Even you can feel his aura around James as if it stretches for miles towards the end of the world, so scary it frightens the young man, forcing him to back away with a nod until he's out of sight.

You clear your throat.

"Uh, thanks for that. If it weren't for you, I could have stayed with him all night."

"Yeah. No problem." His voice is deep, but pleasant when he talks to you, and so are his eyes when Daryl finally looks at you. "Have a good night."

He walks away, taking with him that blue gaze that seemed to reflect the ocean and all its dangers. So why do you clear your throat again to say something, even though you know you can't swim very well, knowing that a wave could pull you into the depths?

"Hey..." The sound of your voice stops him and makes him turn, looking at you thoughtfully. "Do you want to sit down for a while? I think you're as lonely as I am."

Daryl seriously considers whether it's worth it, if getting close to you makes him feel anxious for a good reason, (or if it's a sign to stay the hell away from you) but in the end, without a particular expression, he walks back and sits down in the seat James occupied. Daryl really tried to keep his distance, but you seem like a mystery (something exciting) in his simple and boring life, like a work of art in the middle of nowhere, (surprising) but at the same time, it's like watching a princess in her best ball gown wandering through the woods (just confusing)

The bartender comes back.

"A glass of whiskey. Thanks." His gaze is deep even though Daryl doesn't seem to want to read all of you, not knowing if he really wanted to know what secret you were hiding. Perhaps it wasn't favorable for someone like him. "May I ask what yer doin' alone in a place like this? This part of the city is trash."

You chuckle at his words.

“Have you been told you tend to judge people just by just looking at them?” Daryl snorts at your question, but he can’t hide his smirk because there’s no sarcasm this time, just a simple joke, not an attack on a lifetime of judgments for being a redneck as he had been called before. “But I don’t blame you. People don’t see beyond appearances, which is sad, because then we miss the best part of them, the things we don’t fully see when we blink.”

And for the first time all night, Daryl has a friendly look on his face, as if he were no longer defensive, always ready to attack verbally, or even physically. He knew better than anyone that appearances are a powerful force, and apparently you do too.

"I see ya."

The look in his eyes fascinates you when his most honest side seems to come to the surface, enlightened by his determination, and it’s intriguing at the same time as Daryl rubs his lower lip with his finger, his elbow resting on the table as if trying to hide his indifference, nodding to the bartender as he puts down his drink.

"Okay.” You nod softly. “Try it. I dare you."

Daryl feels a pang in his chest, but he smiles slightly through the pain, sideways.

"From the tattoos on yer wrists... ya love animals." He takes a sip of his drink, but you're surprised he noticed them considering that they are small, even though you don't let him know. “If ya got lil’ animals tattooed all over yer skin, I dare to say yer studyin’ to be a vet or ya wanted to be one… Ain’t that right?”

He looks at you with confidence and a touch of condescension, like the first time a few days ago.

“Maybe.” You say, wiggling your head gently. “Anything else?”

Daryl leans back, his nervous fingers gripping the glass, but fully immersed in the game.

“The tattoo on yer knee…” His gaze travels to the opening of your ripped jeans, to the word 'serene love' tattooed in red ink. “Did ya find it?”

“No.” Your voice is flat, but devoid of any sadness at not having found someone with such impossible expectations.

“Ya don’ have a boyfriend.”

You shrug, although his words are a statement, not a question.

“Monotony scares the hell out of me.” You laugh somewhat sadly, convinced that all relationships end the same way: with couples that break up or decide to stay together out of habit like your parents. “I guess you don’t have a girlfriend.”

“I don’ do the girlfriend thing.” Uncomfortably, Daryl looks away and drinks half of his drink in one gulp while hiding the distaste of the taste as he looks back at you. "So whatcha lookin’ for now?"

You think about it for a few seconds, but the conclusion is still the same as before.

"Honestly... nothing, but whatever comes my way, I'll take it in the best way possible, even if the experience only leaves me with my heart in my hand and a stupid life lesson... excuse me.” You look away from him to take your phone out of your pocket that sounds with an incoming message, missing the way Daryl rests his gaze on you with the glass against his lips as hundreds of questions weigh on his thoughtful expression. It’s your brother, asking you to come home because your dad is coming back in an hour. “I’m sorry, Daryl, but I have to go.”

Daryl can see the obvious distress on your face as you text somebody and shove your phone back into your pocket, and though he tries to force himself to stop before he says something stupid, the words are easy to pronounce after a couple of drinks in his system that give him the courage he could never acquire sober.

“I can give ya a ride if ya want. Ma bike is outside.”

You weigh his words with the speed of a second, but you and Sam have gone your separate ways before, though she is not your main concern at the moment.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Daryl stands, pulling some bills from his pocket before placing them on the table. You want to protest, but you push it to the back of your mind as you make your way to the entrance of the place, catching Sam's gaze from the other side, giving you a thumbs–up in approval when she sees Daryl near you. You shake your head, breathing in the cold air from the change in climate outside once you pass through the door. When Daryl reaches you, he points to the motorcycle a few steps away, which is similar to your brother's, maybe a couple of years older.

"You know, I wasn’t joking when I said girls wanted to ride the bike and the person riding it."

Daryl snorts at your chuckle, handing you the helmet, but he can't help but wonder if that was a joke or a hint.

"Ya got a sassy mouth, y’know?"

You chuckle, again.

"Well... I think it's a nice compliment, so thanks." He shakes his head before climbing onto the motorcycle, but like a flash, a concern fills your mind. "Don't you wear a helmet?"

"Nah." He shrugs, dismissing the danger. "Where do ya live?"

You sigh.

“I know we've only just met, but I don't want anything to happen to you, you know?”

Your voice is a whisper as you give him your address, but you can't hide that affection that was born naturally, the protective instinct that Daryl doesn't know how to interpret as you climb in behind him, your own nervous hands clinging to his shirt, not touching too much. Like a mental note before driving away, he has to remind himself to breathe like a normal person, but thanking the fresh air that blows against him, all while he tries not to feel too much the warmth of your fingers on his thin sleeveless plaid shirt, a touch that seem to pierce through that single piece of clothing of his.

The streets are dark without the fake light of the neon signs, and although the lampposts emit an amber glow, the darkness swallows everything in the shadows, but in that moment, it's a good cover for you. Though now, it's funny to think how you walked into that bar empty–handed, but walked out with something more meaningful (even if it's just for a moment)

The leafy trees are a good cover too when you ask Daryl to stop a few houses away before you finally reach yours after a while. The ride makes you a little bit dizzy, but you step firm on the ground as you take off the helmet.

“Sorry. My dad has a policy of not letting anyone near his kid. Kind of medieval, but what can I do?”

Daryl frowns, confused, but starting to feel offended in a second.

“People like me?”

“What do you mean, people like you?” You chuckle, but the question confuses you as you frown too, tilting your head slightly to the side. Although to Daryl, who’s always had the knack of misguided misinterpretation of others’ words, he can also see that you have no idea what he’s talking about. Shit. You honestly weren’t judging him. “People in general, Daryl. No one. Absolutely no one.”

“Why?” He asks, filled with genuine curiosity.

You shrug.

“I don’t know. I’m like the princess trapped in the glass castle, so I can mostly go out at night when he’s not around or when he’s in a good mood.” You hand him the helmet as a sign of farewell, smiling, and even in the dimness, your gaze seems to shine, as if you’re refusing to let the darkness swallow you up, too. “Thank you. It was really a pleasure to meet you, Daryl Dixon.”

You’ve only taken a couple of steps away, going to your own home, your hands tucked into your jacket, but why does Daryl feel that pang in his chest again? And since when does his body recognize pain after living numb for so long? It was a damn mystery he can solve in a second, but for the first time, he doesn't want to be left wondering about that or anything: Daryl wants to find out why your gaze always seemed to be full of life, even in the little things, or especially when you look at him as he is someone.

“(Y/N)?” His voice is shy, but as you turn around, stopping there, you're still too far from his private life to recognize his different tones, the shift and meaning in each word spoken, and the growing nervousness in his chest as he speaks. “Maybe we can meet another day. Any day ya can escape the castle.”

There's confusion in your voice when you answer, but also a hint of amusement.

“Are you asking me out?”

Daryl sighs, hating the heat on his cheeks.

“Ya gonna make me spell it?”

You chuckle, just to cover your own nerves, but, just as there's something terrifying about letting him into your life, there's also a twinkling thrill that you had perhaps never felt in your life.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Daryl pauses before he speaks again, realizing that had actually been a yes when he thought you would say no. “Okay. Uh, ya like the woods?”

You love it, but it’s still unusual.

“Are you trying to take me there to kill me?”

He does his best not to roll his eyes.

“When?”

“Uh, saturday maybe? I work until noon but I can pretend to work more.”

Daryl nods, more aware of what’s going on, because the last 10 seconds feel like a dream or a hallucination.

“Okay. I’ll pick ya up at 2.”

You nod back, calling it a night.

“Bye. And just… be careful on your way home.”

There it is, the ache in his chest as he laughs in a mocking tone, just to hide the fact that you were the first person in his life asking him to be careful with his own life, which, up until that moment, had felt… meaningless.

“Look at ya, worried ‘bout me already?”

You press your lips together tightly, holding back your laughter, which was equal to his.

“Yeah. Whatever.” You say cheekily, but without sounding rude, as if only you have the power to be both cute and sarcastic at the same time while you turn around and head home. “Goodbye.”

Daryl is left alone, sinking into his own thoughts so deep he fears he can't see the end in his eternal night, his feelings teasing him, only for them to finally prove to Daryl that there was something inside him all this time, that he wasn't always empty. Or maybe not now that he has your gaze to look at him, so colorful and full of life. Nah. It's too soon to feel that crap, right?

If you don't want to be tag, please let me know :) It's okay, promise!

@spookygothmommy @walkingtalkingsomething @m1nda0 @fluffy-dixon @stunkbiggu @kurogxrix @ffsjustletmesleep @kaz11283 @daryldixmedown @enretrogue

#daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x female reader #twd daryl dixon

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literaryvein-reblogs · 6 months ago

Text

Writing Notes: Realistic Injuries (pt. 4)

The Mechanism of Injury

Assists in establishing both the safety of the scene and guides the remainder of the primary survey.

The seriousness of the mechanism of injury is a significant clue as to the potential seriousness of the patient's actual injuries, be they external or internal.

Relaying the mechanism of injury to downstream care providers early in the course of transport helps them be better prepared and have the necessary resources available for when they are treating the patient in the near future.

A patient with a severe mechanism of injury (MOI) warns providers that they may have a patient who requires many hands/tools/teams for treatment.

Getting those people alerted and organized is a great head start for the patient.

MOIs can be divided into 2 broad categories:

Significant Injuries. Some examples:

Ejection from a vehicle.

Prolonged extrication time.

Multi-system trauma.

Motor vehicle-pedestrian/biker accidents.

Motor vehicle accidents where any occupant of the vehicle was killed.

Any fall over 3 times the patient's height.

Insignificant Injuries. Some examples:

Fights or physical altercations without loss of consciousness.

Minor injuries to isolated body parts.

Car accidents without injury or symptoms of injury to any occupant.

The division between these groups is nothing more than the likelihood that a patient with a certain MOI will present with trauma requiring intensive care. Not all patients with an insignificant MOI are free from severe injuries and vice versa.

More Mechanisms of Injury Categories used to Classify Narratives

Caught accidentally in or between objects

Drowning

Electric currents

Explosive material

Exposure to radiation

Fall

Firearm

Overexertion

Poisoning

Suffocation

Head-on collision frequently results in the rider ejecting or partially ejecting over the handlebars. Common injuries include:

Head and neck injury if no helmet in place

Thoracoabdominal injury from handlebar impact (common in children)

“Open book” pelvic fracture—a splaying open (like a book) of the anterior and posterior pelvis from striking the handlebars

Bilateral femur fracture

Skin abrasions, lacerations

Injuries are decreased when a helmet is in place in proper position and if protective clothing is worn.

Gunshot wounds (GSW) are usually intentional (suicide, homicide) but can be unintentional (hunting, gun not in holster, gun cleaning).

Some mechanisms at work with gunshots include:

Yaw: vertical and horizontal oscillation about the axis of the bullet; can result in a larger surface area on impact with the body depending on the position of the bullet on the axis at time of impact.

Tumbling: rotation of the bullet upon impact resulting in some parts of the cavity larger than others as the bullet rotates along the path.

Rifling: spiraling grooves within the barrel of the weapon put spin on the bullet as it exits the barrel; provides stability in flight along the axis.

Hollow-point bullets: deform on impact causing a larger surface area to inflict damage.

Shotgun: multiple pellets within the cartridge; also possible to have one large projectile, such as a “pumpkin ball,” both air resistance and gravity spread the pellets over distance; closer shotgun wounds result in serious large wounds as the pellets remain clumped together.

The bullet does not usually travel in a straight path. This results in the need for exploration as multiple injuries can occur although the path appears to be in a straight line. Intentional injuries may require either psychiatric support (suicide attempts) or safety (homicide attempts).

Stabbings are also usually intentional (suicide, homicide) but can be unintentional, (eg, a slip on wet floor and landing on open dishwasher with knives pointing upward). A stabbing most often:

follows a direct path,

is low velocity resulting mostly in damage along the line of the path itself, and

are of varying depth.

The type of blade affects the wound inflicted, such as straight blade versus a serrated edge.

From a forensic medicine perspective, a stab is deeper than it is long and a cut is longer than deep.

A cut differs from a blunt laceration in that the edges are clean and the direction of the wound inflicted indicates the direction of the force.

Stabs to the chest and abdomen are particularly important to investigate as the angle of the penetration may indicate that the wound crosses both cavities injuring the diaphragm in between the two.

Sources: 1 2 3 ⚜ Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Part 3 ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

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nightplvmes · 6 months ago

Text

*.⊹˚ SYLUS | night ride

── ◜sylus x fem!reader — mini one shot 1k words ◜Sylus takes his girlfriend to his special place — author's note ★ masterlist here

She was nervous. The few times she had ridden a motorcycle were thanks to Sylus and they had been short rides of a couple of minutes. The opposite of what Sylus wanted to do now.

He had said that the trip was about an hour and that was saying too much considering that the bike was too fast. Now she was there, tightly gripping the edges of the helmet Sylus had bought for her since the first times he had taken her on his bike.

"Can't we go in a car?" Sylus smiled and shook his head.

"I've never been there in a car. Come here." He motioned for her to come closer and she finally sighed in defeat. What was so special about the damn bike? They could go in a car, even on foot.

She slid to position herself behind him as usual but he stopped her. "What are you doing?" She took a couple of steps back and Sylus motioning for her to take a seat in front of him. She looked at him without understanding, did he expect her to drive the bike herself? Or…

"You'll go in front of me this time." She complied without much protest, she could ask questions later. She positioned herself in front of Sylus, she had too many doubts because it didn't seem comfortable. She looked over her shoulder making sure not to obstruct his view, after all he was the one who was going to drive.

"Why in front?" she asked, beginning to adjust her helmet. She was surprised at how she had sometimes seen Sylus without a helmet. He never did it again after she reprimanded him.

"You said you were scared. You'll be safer here," he replied, leaning over to start the bike. His arms wrap around her, it was true, she felt a little more protected that way.

She put her hands on the bike's handlebars and seconds later Sylus repeated her action, putting his hands next to hers. She smiled, feeling like she was driving without needing to do much. "Hold on tight." Sylus' voice hit her ear, causing her entire insides to shudder.

That small second where she was distracted by her boyfriend's voice was enough for Sylus to start the bike, taking her out of her bubble.

★

She almost kept her eyes closed the whole way. Sylus had tried to distract her by talking about where they were going or just distracting her with double meaning comments. Sitting like that was more negative than she thought, she preferred to be clinging to Sylus on the back of the bike.

"We're here," he murmured as she felt the bike finally come to a stop. She sighed in relief and slowly opened her eyes. She felt her boyfriend get off the bike, leaving her feeling empty.

She looked around as much as the helmet allowed, seeing nothing out of the ordinary except the road. "Where are we? What's so special about this place?" She asked as she followed Sylus off the bike, she didn't hear any response from him, not even after she took off her helmet. "Sy?" She finally turned around confused when she heard nothing and stopped dead when she saw what was in front of her.

In front of it there was a small lookout where you could see the entire city. There was a perfect view of the completely clear night sky, the moonlight hitting right at them and the small lights of the city looked like stars. It was a beautiful place to be there and just enjoy the silence, away from the chaos of the city.

"Wow… how… how did you find this place?" Although she wanted to look at her boyfriend, she couldn't take her eyes off the beautiful view. She had never been in a place like that where she could see the whole city.

Sylus felt his chest heave at the glint in her eyes. He moved closer to her, wrapping one of his arms around her hips and pulling her closer to him. He helped her take a couple of steps closer to the edge. "One of the times I was on one of my… evening rides I passed by here. I used to come here to be alone."

She turned to look at him finally. She knew it wasn't a busy road and people didn't usually stop just for a lookout, but it was new to know that Sylus passed by there more than just a couple of times a month. "This is where you come when you can't go to my apartment?" she joked.

She let out a small laugh, but Sylus didn't smile, keeping his serious expression. "I've never come back since we started dating." His fingers moved a strand of her hair behind her ear.

She felt her stomach sink and her face hot. She certainly hadn't expected that answer. "Why did you bring me here?" It certainly seemed like a personal place, herself had her own personal place.

"I want to start coming more often." He pressed his lips to her forehead. He felt her tense slightly in his arms, he knew her well enough to know what she was thinking. No, he didn't plan on using that place to get away from her. "With you."

She looked up suddenly, surprised. "But… what if we break up and I ruin this place for you and…" Her mind began to race through the million things that could go wrong. If someone ruined her special place she would feel upset and somewhat sad. Wouldn't Sylus feel the same way?

He rolled his eyes and had to press his lips against his girlfriend's to stop her from talking. She didn't pull away, she let his lips caress hers, it was one of those little kisses when you knew there would be more. "Stop worrying," he whispered close to her face. She could feel his hands roaming over her body. "It's funny that you think you can escape me."

She laughed, feeling him grip her tightly. Soon her feet were off the ground and Sylus walked to the edge where they could get a better view.

Now it was they special place.

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