#curious reader

[aventurineswife]

ok so- I haven’t played Genshin or any of the other games in like years so-

I never seen ratio-

but what about ratio with a s/o that is always curious? Like I heard he is a genius and him with a lover that like to learn things would be cute

Curiosity Binds Us

Summary: Ratio is known for his sharp intellect and unyielding pursuit of knowledge. His lover, however, possesses an insatiable curiosity that constantly challenges him in unexpected ways. As they spend time together in the grand library of the starship, Ratio finds himself reluctantly yet fondly indulging their endless questions. Through playful debates and deep discussions, he realizes that their curiosity might just be the most endearing thing about them.

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Slow Burn, Intellectual Romance, Playful Banter, Mutual Respect, Established Relationship, Ratio Being Ratio, Curious Reader.

The library aboard the Intelligentsia Guild’s starship was vast, a labyrinth of knowledge spanning countless civilizations. Shelves of ancient texts and digital archives stretched toward the ceiling, filled with wisdom from the most brilliant minds across the universe. Among them sat Ratio, absorbed in a holographic projection of his latest research.

Then, there was you.

Your fingers traced the spines of the books, your eyes darting between titles as you absorbed every bit of information you could. You had always been curious—insatiably so. Knowledge called to you like a melody, and you could never resist chasing its tune.

“Ratio,” you murmured, settling into the chair beside him. He hummed in response, his eyes not straying from the floating text before him.

You leaned in, resting your chin on your palm. “What are you working on?”

“A theorem on interdimensional causality,” he replied, his tone as composed as ever. “The prevailing theories are—frankly—insufficient.”

You blinked, processing his words. “That sounds… amazing.”

He finally turned his gaze toward you, one elegant brow arching in mild amusement. “You don’t even know what it means.”

You grinned. “Not yet. But you’ll explain it to me, won’t you?”

Ratio sighed—more for show than genuine exasperation. He had long since accepted that your curiosity was as relentless as gravity. He found it perplexing at first, then… endearing.

“You wish to understand interdimensional causality?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

You nodded eagerly. “I want to understand everything.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Then you are ambitious. A respectable trait.”

You beamed at the rare compliment, scooting closer. “So, tell me.”

Ratio observed you for a moment, his sharp gaze softening just slightly. Most people frustrated him with their lack of comprehension, their unwillingness to challenge their own ignorance. But you? You sought knowledge with unyielding enthusiasm. You wanted to learn—not for prestige, not for recognition—but simply because you found joy in understanding.

That, he could respect.

He gestured toward the holographic equations before him. “Very well. Interdimensional causality refers to the relationship between events across parallel realities. If an action in one dimension influences another, then—”

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed the way your eyes sparkled with intrigue, your expression one of complete fascination.

He exhaled, shaking his head with a rare chuckle. “You truly are relentless.”

“And you love that about me.”

“Hmph. Debatable.”

You laughed, nudging his arm playfully. “Well, keep explaining, Doctor. I’m listening.”

Ratio rolled his eyes, but as he continued his lesson, he spoke just a little slower, making sure you grasped each concept before moving forward. He would never admit it outright, but he enjoyed this—the endless discussions, the late-night debates, the way you challenged him just as much as he challenged you.

For all his intellect, for all his confidence, Ratio had never believed in the idea of a perfect intellectual equal. And perhaps he was right.

But then there was you. And perhaps… that was better.

[curious-reader]

Want to win?

Here’s simple thing,

If you don’t care, if you don’t take what you do seriously, then forget about winning ever…

Decide in your mind, do you wanna fucking do this or not?

That’s the first step!

- the ruddest book ever (shwetabh gangwar)

[tanjir0se]

Disclaimer these are just a small sampling of some possible writer traits I’ve noticed either in myself or in fics I read. Also consider a rb for sample size !

[luvcaleb]

EYES ON ME.

nsfw (18+). i really did not mean for this to be a whole fic but i just kept typing. and typing. and typing... anyway, here are the usual cws: blowjob, cunnilingulus, corruption kink, praise kink, unprotected sex, marathon sex (sylus is starved), more yearning than you'd expect from a sugar daddy fic, and side note that sylus is older than you here (you decide how much lol). likes and reblogs will be very appreciated!

pov: you're a barista at the cafe sylus usually orders at and he overhears you saying you want to try being a sugar baby to make more money.

sylus generally avoids interacting with ordinary citizens. for one, they live in a separate world from him, and two, he'd rather not drag other people into unnecessary trouble.

you are no exception to this rule he placed upon himself. or at least, you should be.

but he can't help being drawn to your sunny smile, undeterred despite his intimidating appearance. he can't help but relax his shoulders when you greet him “welcome!” in a warm, gentle voice. he can't help but ask you how your day went, listen to your complaints, and chuckle fondly when you say something particularly funny.

and he can't help but notice how your sunny smile has diminished the past few weeks, weighed down by late nights and endless work juggling several part-time jobs to get by and pay the debt your father left behind.

so when he overhears you saying you want to try having a sugar daddy, he moves against his better judgment.

it's not hard to track you down in a shady site. even easier to lure you with an enticing price, better than any old, rich fool can offer.

and really, sylus doesn't plan on doing anything to you. this is somewhat like a donation, he convinces himself. that's all there is to it. he's not being possessive.

he pays you for your time. feels amused seeing you sit beside him with an almost visible question mark on your face, not knowing what to do. sure, you have a general idea what sugar babies do, but it was probably not simply watching an old romance movie while snacking on finger foods.

you think it must be some sort of foreplay, but he drives you home. the next time he calls you over, you eat together in a who-knows-how-many-stars restaurant in a tall skyscraper overlooking the city, which ends in a similar fashion. in the next, he takes you shopping and fills your closet with luxury brands, yet again ending the day with a drive to your shabby apartment.

and it's nice. it's really nice. to the point it's too good to be true. from the very beginning when you learned your client wasn't going to be an old geezer, you already thought you lucked out. but with sylus practically treating you as his girlfriend, leaving nothing to be desired, things couldn't be better. you can't even consider the possibility of being sylus's side chick that he's cheating with because there's nothing for him to gain from this arrangement. if you really think about it, sylus is basically throwing you all his money.

you think you can leave things like this. after all, you have nothing to complain about.

but on one of your gigs taking up a friend's waitress shift at a fancy restaurant, you see sylus with a woman.

they're both well-dressed. sylus always is, but now even more so with his styled hair and clean, crisp suit. the woman looks gorgeous in her champagne dress, all smooth silk and beautiful curves. the men around her can't help but stare.

he leads her to a table. pulls out her chair for her. smirks at her as they exchange friendly banter, looking like the picture-perfect couple.

a cold settles deep in your chest, even if you have no right to feel bad. you don't have the right to feel upset because it isn't like you're bound by any serious relationship.

but for the rest of the night, you try to avoid their table. you hope he hasn't taken notice of you, but that's probably wishful thinking considering you've felt an intense gaze on your back all this while.

eventually, they leave, and so do you. as you walk home, you try to dissect why you felt so awful. is it because he might cut you off now that he's interested in another woman? it must be. once he breaks off whatever you have, you're going to have a hard time finding someone else to mooch off of. you'll be back to the same old dreary lifestyle; the magic has worn off, and cinderella has to be miserable again.

but it isn't just that, even if it should be. you shouldn't feel so shitty seeing him with another girl if you only saw him as a client. somewhere along the line, you've started appreciating his quiet smiles, his teasing smirk, his kind gaze. there's something soft about his innocent touches, tucking your hair behind your ear or his thumb wiping away cake frosting on your cheek.

and you hate the idea of him doing all of that to that woman he was with.

“you should pay more attention to your surroundings, sweetheart.”

sylus interrupts your thoughts. you turn to look at the street beside you where you find sylus leaning against his car. waiting.

you hesitate only for a moment. you get in, and he drives you home. the silence is unsettlingly tense, so different from the comfortable quiet you've grown used to in your past drives.

eventually, you bring yourself to speak. “let's go to your house.”

sylus says, “i haven't asked for your services tonight.” it's soft, teasing, and most importantly, it's not a no.

the familiar manor comes into view, grand and imposing as always. he opens the car door for you. asks to carry your bag. unlocks the front door.

he drops it when you push him down the plush sofa, catching him by surprise. you've never quite seen him as stunned as he is now, stock still as you press your mouth against his. clumsy. unsure. yet eager. his fingers tangle in your hair, unmoving for just a moment, but soon he manages to tear himself away.

“i didn't ask for you to do this.”

he hasn't. he probably never intended to do this sort of thing in the first place.

but it isn't like he doesn't want to. his voice is strained. he's still holding you, as if afraid you'll pull away once you realize this is a bad idea. he's staring at you like you're the only thing that matters.

and you realize that you enjoy this attention. you like having his hands around you. you like him doting on you. you like him looking at you.

you don't want him to look at anyone else.

and, you come to realize, you want this just as much as he does.

---

there's a sense of clumsiness when you wrap your hands around his cock, hesitant and unpracticed. you seem as if you've never done this before. sylus should not be as thrilled as he feels at this discovery.

perhaps he should be a little turned off. but his dick feels the hardest it's ever been when you start giving kitten licks to his tip, innocently looking up at him through your lashes like you're asking for praise.

he murmurs filth under his breath when your lips close around his head, sucking at a spot that makes him shudder. he forces his hips to stay absolutely still even if he wants to destroy your throat. he can't afford to scare you away now. not when you're finally within his reach.

yet sylus can't help but run his hand through your hair, pulling you closer. making you take him in deeper. guiding your head as you bob up and down. you're gurgling around his cock, spit dripping from your mouth, tears in the corner of your eyes. so obviously struggling but still sucking more of him in, eager to please. you choke when his cock hits the back of your throat, and still, you hollow your cheeks, licking everywhere you could.

and that does it for him, making him finish much, much quicker than he means to. his cum fills your mouth, warm thick streams that overflow from your lips. he doesn't expect you to swallow, ready to catch with his palm, but you gulp it all down like a good girl.

sylus's chest fills with deep satisfaction. he tells you well-deserved praise as he showers your face with pecks, capturing your lips in a kiss that tastes bitter but oh so nauseatingly sweet.

he wants to reward you for being a good girl, you he pulls you to the edge of the mattress, pressing down on your thighs as he digs in. the first lick on your pretty pussy makes you yelp, legs kicking out in surprise. he gives your thighs a warning squeeze, and by the second, you're obediently staying as still as you can, whimpering to your palm.

you taste as sweet as you look, and sylus hums contently as he licks up all your slick and it never runs out. you moan so nicely for him when he laps at your clit, continuously flicking his tongue at the small bud, and you all but scream when he sucks it hard, tangling your fingers in his hair and jerking up your hips.

he doesn't complain when you ride his face, staring intently at your expression twisted in pleasure. your mouth is shaped around an ‘o’, eyes rolling back as he dares to slip his tongue inside your hole. he rubs your engorged clit with a rough thumb, fucking in and out your pussy with his tongue, groaning amidst the lewd symphony of squelches.

he hasn't planned on touching you, no. but he's thought of it countless times on nights he felt especially lonely after you left. imagined you on his lap, fondling your soft chest, playing with your cute pussy. he wondered what spots made you feel good, where you'd be sensitive. what faces you'd make when he touched them.

sylus doesn't have to wonder anymore, committing the sinful sight to memory. you've always been cute, but he thinks you're even more adorable now, squirming as he gently eases a finger inside you. you're wet enough to fit two, but it's still quite tight; it might take a while before you can take him in. he presses a reassuring kiss on your inner thigh when he finds your g-spot, telling you to stay still and be good.

so sylus spends a bit of time between your legs, adding more fingers as he laps away at your clit. at your first orgasm, he fucks you through it, not stopping his hand until the spray of cum has ceased. by the second, you've drenched his sheets and his arm, but by the way you're moaning his name almost incoherently, you don't want him to stop.

on the verge of a third, a fourth finger teasing at your entrance, you're begging him to fuck you. sylus has felt close to bursting for a while, so he doesn't complain. he rubs his cock between your wet folds, tapping at your clit with the head. slicking his cock with your juices as he marvels at how tiny you seem under him, the length of him intimidatingly massive laying on your stomach.

when he pops the tip of his cock inside, you clench around him immediately, warm and so goddamn tight. he can't slide it in one, smooth thrust; he fucks it inside bit by bit, observing your face for any signs of pain, but all he sees is a dazed, drooling slut, crying out his name and for him to put it all inside her. he shushes you, reasoning he has to be slow, but he's very well on the edge of his patience.

when his cock is halfway in, you turn into a shuddering, sobbing mess. his tip has poked somewhere sensitive, and when he grinds against it, you squirt hard, spraying cum on his abs. he laughs in disbelief, meanly rubbing tight circles on your clit to make your orgasm last longer.

once sylus has finally bottomed out, he whispers endless compliments to your ear, hands roaming around your skin. he can't stop his hips from thrusting, tirelessly fucking in and out of your soaked cunt with vigor he hasn't had in years. sylus doesn't consider himself the vocal type, but now he can't shut up about how pretty you are, how good and sweet you are for him. how nice and tight your cute pussy feels, how you're made to take in his huge cock.

he uses you the way he imagines in his dirty fantasies, like a whore he pays to bed. yet at the same time, you're his precious little princess, the one person he shouldn't hurt. the one person he should treat with utmost care. the one person that should stay untainted by the filthy world.

but you're moaning so loud, enjoying being his little slut. you want to be fucked hard and fast, fingerprints on your hips and waist. you want to be bred full of his cum and do it all over again. you want to be his.

so sylus takes you in all the ways he knows how. on your back. on your knees. on his lap. he lets you ride him, fucking up into your cunt when you get tired. he takes you against the wide, clear window panes, uncaring if someone might have seen. he fucks you while standing, holding up all of your weight, making you watch yourself on the mirror as he thrusts inside. he never once pulls out when he cums, your pussy crammed with his hot, milky loads.

you make a mess everywhere, but you don't have time to worry about it. you don't even worry about the chances of getting pregnant, being pumped full of sylus's cum. even if you did end up pregnant, sylus keeps going on and on about wanting you to be his pretty wife, that he won't let you want for nothing, that he'll provide for your every need if you'll just stay with him.

and in the face of his love, bordering on desperate obsession, you don't even know why you were ever worried about him falling for anyone else.

from the moment he laid eyes on you, he couldn't look away.

[forgettable-au]

PROLOGUE

FORGETTABLE-AU (Page 1-9)

AND SO IT BEGINS!

[CONTINUE] [MASTERPOST]

[anto-pops]

Envy's Grip - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: There was no field guide on how to handle your best friend coming back to life. But in hindsight, maybe keeping it from your crime lord boyfriend wasn’t the best course of action. 

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, miscommunication (kind of), a sprinkle of jealous Sylus (or as jealous as he can be, he knows he's fine)

Full fic can also be found here on Ao3

Sylus was perceptive. 

It wasn’t a new trait, by any means. He had always been annoyingly aware of everything. Sometimes it seemed like he knew your own thoughts before you voiced them– though he insisted you were just easy to read and that it had nothing to do with him using his Evol to his advantage. Now was one of those times where you could tell he was scrutinizing you from afar, having picked up on the influx of emotions that overwhelmed your mind and left your body tense. 

Caleb was alive. 

The revelation had left you breathless– utterly at a loss for words as you had stared at him standing before you whole and well. Well, almost whole. The mechanical arm had thrown you for a loop, but it was his eyes that had broken down the wall of doubt between the two of you. Those bright, violet irises silently conveyed a lifetime of emotion that told you then and there that somehow, someway, your childhood friend was back from the dead. 

How the hell were you supposed to go about your day after discovering something like that? 

When Sylus had asked you the day after what had you looking so dreary, you had waved off his concern with a lie. “There’s a mandatory work meeting next weekend. All my plans with Tara are ruined.” 

He had furrowed his brow at that statement, evidently confused as to why he hadn’t heard anything about your weekend plans up until that moment. You were terrible at lying, and it felt awful to do it– especially with Sylus. You had just prayed that he would overlook your nervous behavior and let you get away with it. 

That same day, Sylus’ eyes had narrowed during lunch while you’d chewed your own nails off in favor of the roast he had cooked for the two of you, but you had done your best to play off the anxious habit as something else work related. Then you had jumped– actually jumped– when he’d walked into the living room while you’d zoned out staring at a wall, his sudden presence jerking you back to the present with your heart hammering and your eyes wide. 

“You need to wear a bell,” was all you had said when he’d asked why you were so jumpy. His lips had pursed while he’d worked a muscle in his jaw, opting to keep his innermost thoughts to himself. 

Then there was right now; your form was sloppy, and your shoulder was aching from the lack of control you threw your punches with. The boxing bag hanging from the ceiling of Sylus’ home gym swayed towards you listlessly, the lack of power in your attacks barely causing the chain to rattle the way it normally would. Using your gloved hand, you halted the bag’s momentum, your chest heaving as you drew in deep, steadying breaths to ground yourself. The sweat that dripped down your temples chilled your otherwise heated skin, and you hastily wiped the moisture away using the back of your forearm before swallowing thickly. 

You were a mess.

As you turned to make your way to the edge of the ring for your water bottle, Sylus tracked your movements with predatory-like precision. He didn’t blink, didn’t shift from his spot against the wall. It hardly looked like he was even breathing. The floor to ceiling mirrors that lined the entirety of the gym clued you in on the dark expression that crossed his face the second you turned your back to him, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the air vent overhead snaked its way down your spine. 

“How do I put this nicely…” Sylus’ deep, throaty timbre reverberated off the walls, and you did your best to ignore him as you brought your bottle to your lips. “The way you’re performing now, you’re on par to fight a toddler.” 

Prick. Water dribbled down your chin as you tightened the water cap and set the container down. “That’s what the practice ring is for. Practice. I’m not trying to show out.” 

“No, clearly you’re not. You’re trying to distract yourself.” 

Ever the discerning crime lord. “I’m working out, Sylus. Since when does that require perfect form?” Placing your hands on your hips, you glared at his reflection in the mirror. “More importantly, why are you just standing there watching? It’s weird.” 

He feigned disinterest by looking at his nails, a move that infuriated you as much as it intrigued you. Sylus always looked so effortlessly handsome. The sight of him posted up against the wall with his muscled arms crossed over his broad chest almost distracted you from the rampant thoughts about Caleb that had plagued your brain for the last two days. Almost. “You might be ‘practicing’, but you’re doing yourself a disservice by not utilizing your full potential. That stance is pathetic, and your punches couldn’t hurt a fly. To add insult to injury, you already know all of this.”

“And I really don’t care. Go find Kieran or Luke if you want to criticize someone, I’m not in the mood.”

Sylus went quiet behind you as you began unstrapping your gloves, and a few beats of silence passed before you lifted your gaze back to the mirror. He was staring at you intently, ruby red eyes flickering darkly and narrowing. It wasn’t exactly the expression he wore when he was angry– not when it still hid a sliver of possessive longing within his dark pupils. But even so, it was enough. You felt arousal curling hot in your gut at the sight, and Sylus’ eyes flicked up to your damp hair clinging to your forehead as a wicked smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“Then what are you in the mood for?” Sylus purred the question, pushing off the wall to stalk over to the boxing platform. He shrugged off his jacket as he walked, tossing it haphazardly over the rope barrier before effortlessly hoisting himself up and stepping into the ring. “Want me to leave you alone? Completely? Back off and let you think about your long lost friend in peace?” 

Oh, shit. 

Your mouth fell open at the realization that he knew. How? When had he found out? Your mind whirred with the possibilities and your blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your skin and imbuing you with an overwhelming sense of guilt. It had never been like that with Caleb, but did Sylus know that? Did he think the worst? How much of the impromptu reunion was he aware of? 

“Cat got your tongue, kitten?” He goaded you further, prowling towards you without an ounce of hesitation. You held up your palms towards him as though to stop him, but he captured your smaller hands in his larger ones and threaded your fingers together, pulling you against his chest with a throaty chuckle devoid of any humor. “Did you really think I didn’t know why you’ve been so out of it lately?” 

“Sylus, I–” you stopped yourself, indignant anger taking root as you realized he had somehow invaded your privacy. “Did you follow me? You ass! How do you even know about that?”

He ignored your pointed line of questioning and pressed on with his brows furrowed. “Were you ever planning on telling me? Or would you have kept quiet and silently debated on whether or not rushing back to his side is a good plan?”

“What? Don’t you dare turn this back on me, you spied on me!” 

“I was in the city on business. Nothing special, but I wanted to stop by to see you once I was done. Imagine my surprise when I saw you in the park with him on the way to my meeting.” 

You tsk’d in annoyance, rolling your eyes in disbelief. “Business. It’s always business with you. Why does it matter that I didn’t immediately run to you to fess up about my friend not being dead?” 

“Because you lied to me.” The way he growled the blatant fact made your retort die in your throat. The anger that had burned hot in your veins cooled instantly, and you blanched as Sylus continued icily. “Taking your time to process it? That I can understand. But you looked me right in my eyes and came up with some half-assed excuse about work. You didn’t trust me with this, even though we agreed we would always be honest with one another.” 

You stammered, “Sylus, wait– I wasn’t–” 

He let go of one of your hands to capture your chin in his firm grip, forcing your eyes to meet his as he stared down at you. His hold wasn’t painful, but it was unrelenting, and the angle left you wholly at his mercy as he slipped his other hand around your back to hold you flush to him. “You weren’t what? Keeping secrets? Giving me unwarranted attitude?”

“None of this is your business!” You jerked your head out of his hold and wedged your hands between the two of you, shoving him away so abruptly that the tiniest grunt escaped his lips. Your eyes were frantic as you exclaimed, “I wouldn’t have left– I just– dammit! Just give me a minute here!”

He gave you ten seconds of uninterrupted silence. The tense kind that set your teeth on edge and made your skin crawl. Then you looked back at him, shocked to discover an icy cool expression painted across his sharp features. The unyielding wall that had existed between you both when you’d first met had been reconstructed in record time, the lack of warmth in his eyes speaking volumes of how he really felt. 

“Take all the time you need, Miss Hunter.” 

When he turned his back to you and started towards the ropes, your heart nearly gave out as your stomach plummeted into your feet. He couldn’t walk away from this– not after he had implied the worst without letting you explain. You had no clue how he even knew about Caleb, but clearly Sylus assumed your relationship with him was something more, and it scared you to think that your lover doubted you. Worse, that he doubted himself. 

Your body acted of its own accord, carrying you forward fast enough that you were able to coil your fingers around Sylus’ thick wrist. He stopped dead in his tracks, but he didn’t turn to look at you. On instinct, you darted around him so you were standing before him, then rose up onto the tips of your toes so you could crush your lips to his. 

Sylus’ reaction was slow; he inhaled sharply before his hands slowly came to the back of your neck, holding your mouth to his as an animalistic growl resonated from deep within his chest. He stepped closer to you, blindly leading you towards the edge of the ring until you felt your back press against the ropes, and Sylus used the newfound barrier to his advantage and rolled his hips against yours while his tongue delved deeper into your mouth. It was equal parts suffocating and exhilarating. Your every sense was overtaken by him– his heady scent, the muscular feeling of him, the guttural sounds he made as he devoured you. 

Sylus’ lips trailed away from yours to mouth wetly at your jaw, and your head fell back as a raspy moan escaped you when he ground his hips into you. The hard length of him was tangible through his dress pants, and the thin pair of leggings you wore did little to deter the feeling. Your hands drifted down his toned biceps and along his taut stomach before your fingers curled tellingly over his belt buckle. The tug you gave the leather material was ardent, your desires taking over your better judgement. Rational thinking had suggested you talk things out with Sylus like adults. To speak to him about loyalty and remind him that he had nothing to worry about as far as Caleb was concerned. 

But bringing up Caleb right now was the absolute last thing you wanted to do. Fucking like adults might also do the trick. 

An airy whimper sounded from you as Sylus roughly brushed your hands away from his belt, taking control of the situation and yanking your sweat-soaked t-shirt over your head. Your sports-bra went next, and the peaks of your breasts pebbled in response to the cold air surrounding you. When you blinked up at the man through hazy eyes, his own orbs were dark and hooded, and the way he licked his lips made you want to kiss him again badly. You weren’t far gone enough to think you deserved it yet, though– not even when Sylus leaned forward to start mouthing down your throat, his tongue trailing against your sweat-slick skin as he descended lower and lower. 

Just when you thought Sylus would end up on his knees in front of you, he was back to his full height. He wasted little time taking you by the hips and assertively guiding you down to the floor of the boxing ring. Dazed, you blinked up at the white haired man, staring at him long enough to catch sight of the strained expression he hid behind his calm facade. It almost looked like he was pained. It confused you, but questioning it wasn’t possible once Sylus shuffled down to settle between your legs. 

You felt his blunt nails scrape against your hip bones as he tugged your panties and leggings away, tossing both of them aside before laying flat between your bent knees. He wasn’t looking at you. He wasn’t talking with you the way he normally would when the two of you were intimate. In fact, there wasn’t anything that was intimate about this aside from you being fully exposed to him. There he was, fully clothed between your legs and inches away from your womanhood, and yet not a lick of warmth emanated from him. 

Suddenly, your morose thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of Sylus licking a broad, flat stripe up your slit, your breath catching as the man took care to add a sinful amount of pressure to your bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck,” you managed to wheeze, your hands flying to Sylus’ soft locs as he wrapped his lips around your clit, then sucked hard enough that your back arched off the floor. Another rough moan escaped you as Sylus splayed his fingers against the underside of your thigh and dug his nails into the tender flesh there. He did the same with your other leg, and the bruising strength he held your legs apart with was something that enticed you as much as it confused you. 

Make no mistake: rough sex with Sylus was always phenomenal, and it was most definitely something you enjoyed partaking in. But there was a missing puzzle piece here– something irregular that had your heart weighing heavy in your chest as you gazed breathlessly to the ceiling. 

You wished Sylus would say something. He hadn’t since you had grabbed for him just minutes prior, nor had he let you undress him like you’d wanted to. The disappointing memory of him crudely swatting your hands away from his belt returned to you then and imbued you with a lingering sense of remorse. Shit, you would settle for him just looking at you by this point. Anything other than the cold, rigid version of your lover before you now. 

Unbeknownst to your internal turmoil, Sylus sat back on his haunches and slid his hands to your waist, flipping you over onto your stomach and allowing for him to manhandle your legs apart. Part of you wanted to protest against the position, but then you felt your lover begin to mouth hotly down your spine and press chaste kisses to your warm skin, and your inhibitions started to melt. It was the first real show of Sylus’ softer side. The gentle press of his index finger against your entrance further derailed your train of thought, and as Sylus slowly breached your fluttering walls with the digit, you couldn’t help but breathe out a soft moan.  

The tenderness left you shaking– trembling–  for more. 

As Sylus started to pump his finger slowly, he took care to remain incredibly attentive to the way you wriggled and keened for more, your face half-buried in the crook of your arm. His free hand came to rub soothing circles against your hip as he gingerly added a second finger to join the first, and the tantalizing stretch had you gasping and squeezing your eyes shut. “F-Fuck, Sylus,” you mumbled, the words muffled slightly by your own arm pressed against your lips. 

You felt Sylus lean forward, his warm breath fanning across your ear as he asked, “Does it feel good?” 

You rocked your hips back onto the fingers easing you open, nodding and gasping breathlessly as the crime lord pressed against your inner walls incessantly in search of that one spot he knew would reduce you to a babbling mess. It didn’t take long for him to find it. Before long, Sylus slid his fingers deeper and curled them up, and the sudden jolt of pleasure that ran through you caused you to mewl your lover's name loudly. 

Taking your reactions as his cue, Sylus proceeded to work you with his fingers faster, brushing the pads of his digits over that magical spot within you every time without fail. The overwhelming sensations left your body quaking as fiery hot arousal coursed through your veins, the beginnings of your climax festering in your gut. As blissful as it was, you had no desire to end things like this; on your knees and with your back to Sylus while he used his damn hands to undo you. 

Blearily, you pushed yourself up with your arms, craning your head around to stare at the man through your lashes. “C-Come on, Sylus,” you implored him weakly. “Please?” 

Sylus met your gaze for the briefest of moments, his eyes dancing away before you could get a good look at him. He mercifully withdrew his fingers, trailing the appendages against your inner thighs and inducing a wave of goosebumps along your skin, then sat back to begin removing his clothing. It was methodical– swift, even. All you could do was watch in the reflection of the mirror as Sylus stripped himself bare without your aid, tossing his clothes off to the side of the boxing ring before returning to his kneeled position behind you. 

Sighing, you ran your hand through your hair dejectedly, accepting that Sylus’ colder nature was your own fault. How could you blame him? Beyond keeping the truth about Caleb from him, you had pushed him away when he’d tried to get close to you. It didn’t look good for you, and you found yourself lowering yourself back to the ground with your face buried in the crook of your arm. Whether you were hiding from Sylus or your own embarrassment, you didn’t know. 

As Sylus lined himself up with your wet entrance, the tiniest sigh escaped him when the blunt head of his cock rubbed softly against you. His firm, warm hands settled on your hips as he asked, “Ready?” 

You could sass him, or rush him along, or just generally be an ass to him in response to him being so closed off, but you didn’t. The air between the two of you was different than it was before, even though Sylus was keeping all his sweetness to himself. You told yourself that you didn’t deserve it anyways and nodded shakily. 

At your confirmation, Sylus sighed and squeezed your hips, then began to sink his thick, perfect cock deep inside of you with slow, gentle thrusts. You gasped and hid your face in your arms, rocking back onto the larger man as you muffled needy little noises against your skin. When Sylus bottomed out, he moaned and ran his hands up your sides, over your ribs, so gentle and so fucking nice that you kind of wished he would just rail you through the floor of the ring. How amazingly soft he was being while distancing himself was making your chest ache. 

It didn’t last long, thankfully. When Sylus gave an experimental roll of his hips and found you more than a little eager for his cock, he groaned and pulled back farther before ramming his dick into you, and the way you cried out for it covered the throaty moan that had escaped his lips. The crime lord set the pace just like that; hard and fast, impaling you and wringing gasping cries out of you easily. The arch of your back let Sylus’ cock slide along your sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the feeling had your eyes fucking crossing. 

It was too good. Your thoughts were crashing, noisy moans sounding from you freely. You were entirely sure you were drooling all over the padding of the ring’s floor, but you didn’t really care when Sylus was fucking you so thoroughly. The fingers digging into your hips pulled you back hard even as Sylus pounded his cock into your wet, tight heat, leaving you completely and utterly helpless for it. 

You didn’t know if Sylus had a cruel streak or a merciful one, because eventually he peeled one hand off of your hip and wound it immediately into your hair, and then you knew you were fucked. So very fucked. And not just by the cock driving you crazy. 

Sylus yanked your hair– just a little on the side of painful– and you couldn’t help the way you fucking wailed Sylus’ name, your thighs shaking and your hips slamming back into his fast thrusts. When he pulled again, you obediently scrambled up onto your weak hands, your shoulders trembling and your stomach churning with wanton pleasure. Sylus leaned down and moaned in your ear, his grip on your hair unrelenting as he urged, “Say my name, say my name for me, come on…” 

You didn’t even have to think about it. You leaned your head back against Sylus’ shoulder and gasped his name over and over, your voice pitched high and desperate from the way his cock owned you so perfectly. Sylus’ soft sounds were driving you mad for him, eager to hear his voice again, to hear the white haired man tell you how good you were. The hand pulling at your hair made it impossible to form words, though, save for the increasingly needy cries of Sylus’ name and shaky iterations of please, please, please. 

The floor of the boxing ring creaked as Sylus pressed the two of you back down against its surface to speed up, his hips slapping against your ass so aggressively that you couldn’t help but scream for him, the pleas coming in shaking sobs. 

Even though Sylus was so thoroughly possessing you and fucking his cock straight into your cervix, something was still keeping you from getting close. It felt so good, absolutely amazing, but you couldn’t finish like this. Not when Sylus was biting his lip against his own noisy moans. Not when Sylus hadn’t said your name once this entire time. Not when Sylus had yet to look you in the eyes. 

Whining, you turned your head forward so you could look at him in the reflection of the mirror straight ahead. The muscles of his back rippled with effort as he continued pumping his hips, and his own forehead was pressed into your shoulder so he didn’t have to look at you. The change in your breathy sounds caught his attention, however, and Sylus slowed his hips to a rough grind to give the two of you a damn break. He finally lifted his dark, fucked-out gaze to yours, and proceeded to finally made eye contact with you in the mirror. Even hazy with lust, you could still pick out the hurt in Sylus’ eyes. 

You had put that there. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you whimpered and spread your fingers out against the padded floor, an unspoken invitation. After a long moment of consideration, Sylus mouthed at your sweat-slick shoulder and carefully unwound his fingers from your tangled hair to twine them together with yours. You gripped his hand tight and shivered for him, rocking back into now-gentle thrusts with a soft moan of his name. 

“I’m s-sorry,” you breathed, looking back at Sylus from over your shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sylus.” 

He stilled then, his free hand moving to tenderly brush your sweaty bangs out of your eyes. He didn’t respond yet, though, instead pulling out entirely to ease you over onto your back. 

Winding your violently trembling legs loosely around his waist, you wiggled as Sylus leaned back over you and aligned himself with your throbbing center once again. When he slid home, it was slow and easy, leaving the two of you gasping. To make things even better, Sylus reached over to grab both of your hands before lacing your fingers together again, balancing easily on his elbows so his chest was nearly flush to yours. It was so close, so damn intimate, and so much better than you deserved that you couldn’t even begin to hope for anything more. 

Sylus was so kind, though. He was thoughtful and courteous and so damn sweet, and he nudged your nose with his own before he finally kissed you again, thank god. You whimpered pitifully, squeezing his hands while he slid his tongue easily between your lips, deepening the kiss and drawing a keening moan from your sore throat. 

This time, Sylus’ thrusts were steady and slow, following an even tempo that left you sputtering against his lips. 

It was a world apart from earlier. Before, Sylus had been fucking you, marking you like you were his territory, holding back even as he let loose some wild, animalistic part of himself brought on by you pushing him away. 

Now, by some grace from god or by virtue of Sylus’ incredible capacity for dealing with your shit, it was like he was making love to you, his cock continuing to fill you up so good but just slow enough that you had time to understand how amazing he made you feel. Sort of. As much as you could understand when you were whispering Sylus’ name against his lips, your voice still rough from screaming and hitching audibly when he thrusted into you. 

You swallowed thickly to coat your dry throat, then opened your eyes to stare up at him again. 

Sylus had pulled back enough that he could see the faces you were making perfectly, how flushed your cheeks were, and how watery your eyes were. Being watched so intimately caused you to flush darker, and you closed your eyes again and arched your back with a broken groan when Sylus’ cock slid over your sweet spot once again. 

“Sylus,” you moaned, sliding your thighs further up his sides and spreading them wider. “Sylus, you’re so good…”

You felt as Sylus bumped your noses together again, squeezing your hands with a contented sigh. You were more than okay with the pace things were moving at, especially once your lover brushed his lips against your cheeks so incredibly tenderly and thrust deeper into you. Spine rounding again, you let loose a shuddering gasp before your mouth fell open with an airy whisper of Sylus’ name. 

“You look so good like this,” Sylus purred, the sound of his voice sending you reeling once again. It was beyond unfair how Sylus had you wrapped around his finger. You instinctively tightened around his cock, and the lecherous moan the action pulled from him made your stomach flip. He chuckled softly shortly thereafter and squeezed your hands again, “So pretty, you know that, kitten? And you take me so well, with the prettiest little noises. God, the noises you make…” 

You were losing your fucking mind. You rolled your head to the side with a bitten-back whimper, your body rocking perfectly into Sylus’ thrusts. There was no way you could have known that the way Sylus whispered to you would set you so on edge, but you had missed it so badly in the seemingly endless period of time you’d had to go without it. Sylus’ praises made you so hot, so damn brainless that you didn’t know what to do with yourself, and the bastard knew it. When Sylus sped up, you were still helpless– still unable to do anything other than gasp your lover’s name into the humid air between you both. 

Even as he smiled down at you and chuckled at the way you fell apart, Sylus’ own voice was growing breathier, his moans louder. Apparently you weren’t the only one so deeply affected. 

“I can feel you getting close, kitten,” Sylus moaned against you, his hips moving in deep, quick thrusts that filled you up easily. You licked your lips and cracked open your bleary eyes to watch as Sylus’ brows pinched together in response to your walls clamping down on his cock harder. With a stammered moan of your name, Sylus’ head drooped between his shoulders as he murmured, “You feel incredible. You’re so good for me.” 

That was what you needed more than anything. Sylus moaning your name while his thrusts picked up with more force, his teeth worrying his lip as he fought against his bone-deep urge to finish. Your name spoken by Sylus would forever be your favorite sound, and hearing it now was driving you straight to the edge and building your orgasm up quickly in your gut. Your moans spiked into breathy cries, your muscles tensing and twitching in earnest. Unable to stop yourself, you started to beg, “S-Sylus, Sylus, I’m almost– I’m– please, Sylus–”

Sylus obliged your senseless word babble. He untangled your fingers from his so he could sit up on his heels, looping his arms under your back to bring you with him. With you balanced easily in his lap, Sylus kept one arm around your midsection while the other came to grip your hip before he started thrusting again, his cock angling up and hitting you so deep and so perfect that you were certain you were seeing stars. Your hands flew frantically to Sylus’ toned shoulders, your nails digging in for purchase as that telltale sensation in the pit of your stomach grew stronger and more potent. 

Once Sylus breathed your name again, his voice trailing off into a raspy, rumbling moan, it was more than enough to carry you over the edge. 

Your breasts pressed into Sylus’ chest as your spine arched, your climax crashing over you violently and rendering your brain useless. Sylus groaned long and loud as you clenched impossibly further around his cock, and as you clung desperately to him and buried your face into the crook of his neck, he managed to thrust once, then twice, before he came with a shuddering groan. 

Sylus curled around you possessively and ground against you mindlessly, his large hands gripping you so tightly that you were certain they would leave bruises in their wake. He continued to mumble your name breathlessly into your ear as the two of you came down together, and eventually you were able to think through the pleasured fog that still tinged your vision. 

You continued to breathe heavily, your limbs shaking and twitching as you clenched your eyes shut and continued to hide your looming shame in the crook of Sylus’ neck. The only thing that pulled you out of your makeshift cocoon was the feeling of the larger man’s lips pressing against the top of your head, and you jolted almost violently at the attention. 

“Damn, sweetie,” Sylus said roughly, his hand trailing up your bare back to hold the nape of your neck. “You’re still shaking an awful lot. Are you alright?” 

You were silent for a long time, trying and failing to get your breathing under control again while Sylus simply cradled you. There was nothing you wanted more than to keep holding him, to keep him from leaving you and walking away, but as the dust settled around the two of you, you remembered how bad you had actually fucked up. So you waited for Sylus to release you, to stop mumbling sweet nothings into the top of your head, to banish you from his home entirely and send you back to Linkon City. 

But he didn’t do any of those things. He surprised you by lowering his own head so it was right beside yours, using his chin to gently nudge you out of your hiding spot in his shoulder so he could look at you. “I’m going to need an answer, sweetie, because I’m becoming increasingly worried that I hurt you.” 

“I’m sorry, Sylus,” you mumbled, avoiding meeting his gaze in favor of directing your words to his chest. Your voice was meek and pitiful, and your lower lip trembled as you tried and failed to fight the influx of tears that welled in your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

At first, Sylus was quiet. You felt his arms slide away from your back, and for a split second you were convinced that he was going to shove you away and end things with you then and there. But then his hands reappeared between the two of you, tentatively cupping your jaw to angle your face up at him. He looked at you curiously, sweeping his thumb under your eyes to catch the stray tears that slipped down your cheeks. His voice was calm and gentle when he finally asked, “What exactly are you apologizing for?” 

“For lying to you. For saying those hurtful things. I know I was overwhelmed by Caleb just… showing up the way he did, but that was no excuse for being so cruel to you.” You swallowed, your brow furrowing as you stared up at the literal love of your life and became overtaken by a fresh dose of remorse. “I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want Caleb. I don’t want you to think that you’ve been some replacement for him this entire time because I never had feelings like that for him. I should have been honest from the jump instead of getting so defensive. I’m really, really sorry, Sylus.” 

Sylus seemed to mull your confession over– always so careful about picking his words. It was a trait that you could certainly stand to learn from, if only you could manage to stop talking out of your ass for five seconds. 

“I didn’t exactly broach the subject with you delicately,” he admonished with a grimace. “I didn’t stop to consider that your childhood friend was back from the dead. I just assumed the worst and jumped head first into the conversation with that thought driving me. So for that, I’m sorry.” 

A watery smile stretched across your face, and you wrapped your arms around Sylus’ waist with your ear pressed against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat soothing your previously frayed nerves. “So does this mean you forgive me?” 

To your mild surprise, Sylus laughed. Softly, and far from the mean-spirited kind. He returned your embrace eagerly, tracing small circles against your back with his fingers as he shook his head to himself. “There’s hardly that much to forgive. You’ve said worse things to me in the past, remember?” 

“Don’t make me beg. Just answer the question.” 

“Yes, kitten. I forgive you.” 

Sighing contentedly, you felt Sylus press a quick kiss to your forehead before holding you tighter to him, then he rose swiftly and easily, not at all slowed down by hoisting you up along with him. You yelped a little in alarm and wrapped your legs around his waist, entirely at his mercy as he somehow managed to duck under the ropes of the boxing ring with you coiled around him like a baby monkey. “Where are we going?” 

“To shower. I have every intention of making the most of your apologetic mood. And I think I might like to see you beg a little.” 

You sat upright in his firm hold, placing your hand on his chest to put a modicum of space between the two of you. “But you said you forgave me! What about Luke and Kieran?! Your room is on the other side of the house– Sylus, we’re naked!” 

Undeterred, Sylus flashed you his trademark smirk– the one that never failed to lower your inhibitions. “Oh, I forgive you. But since I have heard worse things from you before, the way I see it is you can go ahead and earn some more forgiveness while you’re at it.” 

Anxious beyond belief at the prospect of the twins seeing you in the nude, you shoved at Sylus more and scrambled to get out of his hold. He was having none of it, however, and swiftly readjusted his grip so he could toss you over his shoulder, your rear on full display in the event anyone crossed paths with the two of you. When you frantically started kicking your legs and hitting his back, he returned the motion with a playful slap to your ass that pulled a loud yelp from your lips. 

You loved the man with all your heart. You truly couldn’t fathom yourself ever leaving him, nor could you imagine your life without him. He brought a certain excitement to your otherwise dull day-to-day that you treasured and valued endlessly. 

But be that as it may, you were so, so going to kill him for this. 

[bamsara]

I see freakout everytime A03 goes down and while I Get That, that's Our Website, but it makes me wonder if most people know that they can download fanfics

[scifur]

the #1 fan

Reference

[shotosjupiter]

CRY FOR ME !

i want you to cry, cry for me 내가 울었던 것처럼 cry for me

tags/warnings: fem!reader, maybe a bit ooc sukuna (?) idk im a believer that sukuna would be dedicated to his partner, suggestive-ish ?

a woman.

only a woman can do the things that causes sukuna to crumble like so. no no, not just any woman - you.

it’s you he falls apart for. you who sees the soft side of him that no one has ever seen, like the dark side of a moon. you who leaves his hands shaking at the pure desire he has for you coursing through his veins.

he lets you sit on his throne, all embroidered ivory and plush red velvet, and he sits beneath it caressing every muscle in your body. he traces the rigid bone of your ankle before placing a tender kiss there. slowly, tantalizingly, he trails upwards. a kiss at your calf, the side of your knee, and then the inside of your thigh.

he pauses there, as if he needs to take a second to take in the moment, to sear it into his brain. he continues, trail a gentle kiss upwards and upwards. sometimes he's linger at a spot - sucks and traces an area of your skin with his tongue, relishing the feel of your skin in his mouth.

just as he's about to place another kiss, you reach out and grasp his chin and tilt his face up with two fingers so he can look at you. he looks at you with heavy lidded eyes, ravaged by desire and love. you lean forward, just a tad, enough for your noses to brush and your breath to fan over his lips.

sukuna, king of curses, leans forward and nearly chases your lips when you inch back. he leans into your hand as you cup his face with one hand while the other traces his bottom lip.

"you are divine." he rasps out, a belief, an oath, a prayer.

you let out a noise before he crashes his lips onto yours, grasping your face like you're going to slip out of his hands like water. the heat of him travels to your body as he kisses you unrelentingly and with fervor. breathless kisses and panting between each as he kisses you once, twice, thrice, before he leaves marks down your neck.

each kiss is sealed with a praise. "so beautiful," kiss "radiant," kiss "my queen," kiss "my divinity," kiss.

he pauses once more, lips hovering over your collarbone. your hands are tangled somewhere in his pink hair, yanking at the stands as he leaves hot kisses all over your skin but when he stops you do too. you look down at him with almost narrowed eyes, the eyes of a seraphic queen, as if to say, why'd you stop?

he glances down at your lips, swollen and shining, pulling him down in a trance. you notice his stare and let out a smile, just a bare quirk of your lips and sukuna feels as if this is it, this is heaven itself.

you yank at his hair again, lightly, before whispering, "kiss me, ryo."

and ryomen sukuna, king of curses, obliges his love's demand.

[buckyschair]

✸BETRAYAL✸

Azriel blurb 

Summary: A domestic dispute with Azriel. 

Warnings: none, fluff 

I kinda pictured this pair as Azriel and Flirting!Reader from my last little fic series if that tickles your fancy hehe :) Comments are encouraged, I love to hear from you <3

Word count: 800+ (so short!! who am i!)

masterlist

✸✸✸ 

“I can't believe you.”

Your words were a savage snarl. Azriel sighed. He'd had a long day, and he didn’t want to fight. 

“Well if you’d just let me explain–”

“–What is there to explain?” you snapped. 

You couldn’t believe it. A male who was committed to you, loyal above all else. That he would do this to you? You were dizzy from the insanity. 

You were curled defensively into the corner of your couch, knees packed tight to your aching chest. It was by the grace of the Mother you’d been sitting down when you found out. 

“How could you do this to me?” The words were bitter, and your broken voice betrayed your wound. 

“I’m sorry.”

Pathetic words, from a pathetic male. Where was his shame?  

His face was wrought with concern. He stood before you, keeping a safe distance. His wings ruffled, and they dragged along the floor. It was a sorry sight, the love of your life ruined, stained by his transgression. 

He didn’t even feel bad, you sensed, he just didn’t like that you were mad. The fact cuts deeper than the betrayal. Resentment soured your mouth. 

“Well, sorry isn’t going to change anything, Az,” you breathed. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.

You huffed a humorless laugh, the sound catching in your throat. 

The hardest part was that you’d built a beautiful life together. It hadn’t been easy, either. The shadowsinger was slow to trust, and you’d been hurt before too. But you’d both overcome your fears, and had traded invulnerability up for connection. Your sorrows had been comforted by cooling shadows. Your days were lit with bliss, sipped away in coffee houses or the comfort of your shared home. You’d embraced the bond, sure of its sparklingly rare reward. Until this moment. 

He shook his head, continuing, “No, really, I will. The two of us can-

“-it won’t be the same,” you murmured, your tone forlorn. 

Azriel seemed at a loss. A fearsome warrior, a master of spies, brought low by one pissy mate. 

“I'm sorry," he repeated, more seriously this time. “Will you forgive me?”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. After what you’ve done–”

“Oh come off it!”

The male plopped himself down next to you on the couch, and his wing draped around you. His expression was pleading. 

“Let’s not fight,” he tried in a fragile voice

“I just,” you huffed. “I can’t believe you would go and do that– and with Cassian, no less–”

“He really wanted to!” Azriel defended himself 

You scowled, unimpressed. 

“It’s just that you knew I was excited about this new restaurant and you knew I wanted to go with you,” you stressed. “How could you do this to me?”

Soft traces on your knee calmed you. He listened to your words intently before speaking. “Listen, though, there’s some good news. I learned they have a special brunch menu on the weekends. How about we go tomorrow?”

You brightened slightly. 

“A special menu?”

“Yes,” he coaxed, lips twitching. “One I haven't even seen. Plus, Cass and I went there for lunch–”

“–famously the most boring meal,” you supplied, nodding along. 

“Exactly,” he replied, equally solemn, “so it’s basically like I didn't even go.”

You saw his logic. Plus you knew how obnoxious Cassian could be when he didn’t get his way. You regarded your mate pouting next to you, his hand still drawing soothing circles on your knee. 

“I guess it would be fine if you took me to brunch tomorrow,” you offered eventually. 

He sighed in relief. 

“–But you have to let me try a bite of whatever you order!”

“Deal.” 

Contented, you leaned forward to nestle into the towering Illyrian. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, fondness softening his sharp features. 

You kissed his chest and he melted. 

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“I forgive you, baby,” you murmur absently into his chest. He smelled good, his citrus soap mixed enticingly with his musk. “I know Cassian can be an ass.”

“Cauldron, he is such an ass!”

You nodded into his chest, your head gently bumping his chin. You stroked his shoulder, down to his heart. 

“You’re so brave for putting up with him.”

The fearsome warrior was putty in your hands as you babied him after his long day out in the field. 

“I’m gonna kill him tomorrow,” Azriel sighed.  

You hummed quietly. His sculpted arms wrapped around your midsection, your playful attitude bringing out his syrupy side. 

“No one gets between me and my baby,” he said gravely, his boyish grin betraying him.

“You can’t blame him for your poor choices and my bad attitude!” you smirked.

His brows furrowed and he quirked his lips in contention. “Yes I can. He’s a bad influence.”

You laughed at his severity while he grinned. He kissed away your giggles, groaning imperceptibly at the affection he felt for you, only inflamed by your antics. 

The sound of your laughter was a balm to his tired soul. Of course, he’d been trying to make you laugh, just to make sure you were really well and recovered from your mood. 

Mission accomplished.

✸✸✸ 

A/N: hehe I had this idea at 5am one day and wrote the first draft in a furious early morning haze! Enjoy a silly domestic dispute fake out with our most longsuffering bat boy <3

Let me know if you like the shorter blurb-y one shot style??

[cookies-after-dark]

i bring a sort of "Shmilk and PV share the reader" and then add a, "Shmilk and PV are also sexually repressed and while PV builds up the courage to court the reader he and Shmilk romp in the hay 5 times a day to release their pent up frustrations" vibe to tumblr that nobody really likes

[curious-reader]

We are living in the time where it’s nearly impossible to find a true, honest and loyal person to make your life partner.

[sporadicthingcollection]

Y/N: Every time Luffy falls in the water, I jump in to fish him out

Y/N: Do they call me a life saver? No

Y/N: And every time Zoro gets lost, I go and bring him back

Y/N: Do they call me a people minder? No

Y/N: And every time Sanji makes dinner, I do dishes so there’s not a big mess after

Y/N: Do they call me a dishwasher? No

Y/N: But you fuck one clown

[kiwiandmint]

“One more dance?” “Of course. I wish for this waltz to never end.”

Inspired by @/miilkcandies beautiful sequence of art! I fell in love with the storytelling and paneling in that piece :) Please check it out if you haven't already!

[snail-day]

Can I hold it?

Crack fic. Felt a little silly.

tw: Fluff, tinkle time, geto's is a bit suggestive, unedited. mdni

characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Sukuna...special guest...mahito.

Gojo - You sure can!

"Can I hold it?" you ask, nonchalantly, like you're asking for the TV remote and not, y’know, his dick.

Satoru pauses mid-wiggle as he tugs his pants down. Normally, he’s a sit-down-to-tinkle kind of guy, he likes to doomscroll in peace. But tonight he’s upright. Vulnerable. And brushing your teeth beside him, a perfectly normal bonding activity, you tilt your head and ask again.

He blinks once. Then shrugs. “Sure, baby. Go for it.”

And that’s how you end up behind him, gently - okay, tentatively-gripping his junk. His hips twitch.

“Gentle,” he hisses when your hand grips a little too tightly. “We're not playing bowling with the Wii controller here. That’s too much pressure. Less - Fuck - less pressure, babe. Yeah, there we go. Nice. Precision.”

You frown in concentration. “It’s angled too high. It’s gonna hit the rim.”

He nods solemnly. “We must honor the aerodynamics. Think parabola. There’s arc. There’s lift. There’s - ”

“It’s not physics, Satoru.”

“Speak for yourself.”

You pause, watching the stream curve...breaking the silence, “…Can I try writing my name?”

“Sure, baby,” he grins. “Just....please....aim"

You didn't and you made him clean it up <3

Geto - Ask nicer!

Now, Geto is... well. He’s usually the type to perform the aftercare. The type to cradle you after sex, murmuring praise into your hair, stroking your back with those broad fingers of his until your breath evens out again. He waits patiently, like he’s not still hard or still aching, until your walls stop fluttering around the memory of him. Only then does he nudge you gently, murmuring, “Go tinkle, love. I’ll run the bath.”

Usually though. You kick him out when it’s time to go. All flustered and squirmy, grumbling something about dignity and privacy as you push his bare chest out of the room. He only laughs, lets you win.

This time you pull the sheets up around yourself, all sleep-drunk and grinning, and tilt your head sweetly. “You go first.”

He hums, stretching a bit before padding toward the toilet. You wait. And then you call as you make your way over, “Can I hold it?”

His back stiffens for half a second. You see the way his shoulders lift with a silent chuckle before he turns slightly, looking at you over his shoulder with that look. The one that makes your stomach flip and thighs squeeze instinctively.

“No, love,” he croons, voice smooth as silk.

Then he sighs softly as he releases a steady stream, utterly unbothered, and you whine from the doorway like he’s just denied you a treat.

“Why notttt,” you pout. “You let me hold other things.”

He just raises a brow, the smirk curling his lips downright sinful. “Is that how you talk to me? After someone made you feel that good?”

You squirm. “...Maybe.”

He tsks. “Tsk tsk. Brat.”

And then, because he’s Geto Suguru and his cruelty is measured, he flushes, washes his hands, and pads back over just to cup your cheeks and kiss your forehead sweetly.

“Maybe next time,” he whispers. “If you ask nicely.”

Nanami - Let the man live

Nanami just wants to pee. That’s all. Nothing fancy. Nothing complicated. Just a calm, quiet end-of-day tinkle after ten hours of sorcerer nonsense, two cursed spirits, and one very overpriced coffee that did nothing for his mood.

But peace? Apparently a foreign concept in this household. Because the moment he reaches for the bathroom door, you appear like a gremlin summoned by the sound of a zipper.

“Can I hold it?”

He freezes mid-step. Blinks. Slowly turning towards you. Concern in his eyes, because usually you are some little chaotic demon when he comes home, but normally not this bad.

“No.”

“Why not?” you whine, trailing behind him like a duckling. “It’s not like I’m gonna break it.”

“I’d rather not test that theory.”

“I’ll be gentle!”

“You say that like it’s reassuring.”

“I just wanna help,” you pout, clinging to his arm.

“You’re not qualified to assist in this particular task.”

“You let me hold your heart,” you say dramatically, hand to chest. “But not your - ”

“Don’t finish that sentence.”

“I’m just saying - ”

“No.”

You try to follow him in. He calmly places a large hand on your face and pushes you back before shutting the door.

“Kentoooo - "

“I am going to urinate. Alone.”

He steps inside. You scramble to the doorway, making one last plea like he’s leaving you behind forever.

“I won’t even move it!”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I’ll just... cradle it!”

You can hear the sigh through the door. Then the lock clicks. For his reassurance.

“I am cradling my dignity. Let me pee in peace.”

Silence.

You rest your forehead against the wood, a quiet whimper escaping.

“…You don’t love me.”

All you hear is a very long, very tired sigh. (He does very much love you, just wants to tinkle in peace)

Sukuna - How does it work?

You want to ask. God, you really, really do.

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, legs swinging, lips pressed together in fierce concentration. Sukuna's across the room, shirtless, casual, sipping something crimson from a ridiculously ornate goblet. He's glowing faintly. Menacingly.

And you, well, you're staring. Hard. Not at his abs. Not at his tattoos. No, you're staring at his pants. Specifically, the waistband. Because he has two mouths. Two sets of eyes. Four arms.

And, presumably…

Two.

You're thinking about it. So hard it might be echoing off the walls. Which one does he tinkle with? Which one. Is there a dominant one? Do they take turns? Is it both?

He lifts a brow. “You’re staring.”

You freeze. “No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” His voice is dry, amused. “Thinking very loudly, too.”

Your mouth opens. Then closes. Then opens again. “…Do you have - like - do they both… work?”

A beat. Then a wide, sharp-toothed grin spreads across his face. He sets the goblet down.

“You want to hold it, don’t you.”

“No!” (Yes.) “I mean, wait, them?”

He steps closer.

You panic. “I was just curious!!”

“And now you’ve made it weird.”

“You’re the one who grew an extra one!!”

He shrugs. “A king needs options.”

You cover your face with your hands. “I hate it here.”

He laughs, dark and delighted, head tipping back slightly as it echoes through the room like a warning. One of his lower hands ruffles your hair, fingers curling just a little too tight at the ends.

And then he leans down. Looms, really. Four arms bracketing you. The warm weight of his body trapping you in. His breath brushes your ear, a smirk pressed into his voice.

“Wanna find out which one pisses?” he purrs. “We can experiment.”

“That’s not science!”

“Oh, darling,” he grins, “with me, everything is.”

Mahito - Does...does he even...?

“Can I hold it?” you ask, casually. Like it’s a normal question. Like you’re not speaking to your probably-murderous roommate who showed up out of nowhere six months ago and just... stayed.

Mahito blinks at you from across the hallway, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth (you're pretty sure, it's yours). His blue hair’s all rumpled. He’s in a shirt you definitely never saw him buy. Probably stolen. Probably off a corpse.

“Hold what?” he asks, head tilted like a confused golden retriever.

You point - vaguely. “Y’know. Your - uh. Your dick. While you pee.”

Silence.

Dead silence.

He blinks again. Slowly this time.

“What’s peeing?”

And that’s when you remember: your roommate is a cursed spirit. A walking human experiment with a giggle like a knife being sharpened. He makes sock puppets out of leftover limbs. And now, apparently, he’s never pissed in his life.

You stare. “You don’t pee?”

He shrugs. “Never needed to.”

“So like… how do you…?”

“Mostly I just rearrange my organs and wait for it to pass.”

You open your mouth.

You close it.

He walks past you into the bathroom, humming, probably about murder.

You sit on the couch, dazed. You cannot hold it. Now you kinda wish you never asked. But he does pay rent on time. In this economy. So you stay.

[b6d11f]

at my best, I'm a sacrificial lamb at my best, I am something you could handle