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toji-bunny-girl · 17 days

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bartender toji fucking the living daylights out of us after a nasty breakup ? also have a nice day

ON THE H★USE !!

#𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆 ⟢ bartender!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader #𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ⟢ riding the hot bartender after a break up is the least expected thing you’ll ever think of #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟢ alcohol, pet names, foreplay, fingering, teasing, grinding, pre-cum, no protection, creampie, car sex, nipple play, squirting, size difference, big dick toji papa, alpha toji with xxxxxxxxl dick, multiple orgasm, one-sided drunk sex (?), power play, I’m so lazy to do tags, who even reads content warnings tbh #𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ⟢ 4k #𝑨/𝑵 ⟢ don’t let this flop guys I spent way too much time on this when I should be studying for my exam 😭

“Plus, he literally had to beg me to act like I was cummin’ when he stuck his sorry excuse of a dick in me!” your eyelids hung heavily over your eyes as you exclaimed, brows shooting down in a frown. “Get a load of that guy, am I right?”

“He doesn’t pay for your stuff, and he can’t fuck good?!” Toji teasingly mirrored your tone as he manoeuvre behind the bar, uniform taut from the way he natchly flexed his arms; the bottles clinking as he worked deftly to craft out the beverage you ordered. “What a man.”

It has been 2 hours since you’ve been rambling on about your ex-boyfriend, and the ravenette felt like he’d known this stranger for years—all of his secrets and traits aired into his ears. Albeit, it was getting a bit boring, with the same repeated stories tumbling out of your voluble mouth. But still, he enjoyed chuckling at your adorable insobriety, fuelled by drunken mania.

“Here you go, princess,” a small tug lifted the ends of his scarred lips when your eyes patently glimmered at the newly served alcohol. “It’s the last I can give you, we’re closing…” Toji’s eyes momentarily flickered to his watch, “in 7 minutes.”

“Oh, okay!” you deliriously yawped, downing the beverage into your liqueur-brimmed system before handing him your card, which you aimlessly threw at him, not even lucid of your motions. “Just swipe it.”

Toji simply brushed it off, taking it towards the other side of the counter. He's used to unintentional antics like yours, as long as the tab was paid off he has no problem with them.

15,900 yen.

The digits flashed past his eyes like stars, igniting a luminous glint in his dark emerald orbs. Hell, was it a sum to casually splurge on at some mid-high bar? He’s got a pretty girl with probably an equally pretty amount of personality in her wallet, sprawled on the bar top wailing about her broken heart.

Oh, how he would love to play saviour.

“Here, princess. Time to go home,” he tapped your card onto the counter after the successful transaction. His gruff voice was low as you drifted further from your haywired consciousness and towards a delicious drowse. You didn’t move when he neared your face, attempting to marshal up your scattered coherence by calling into your ear.

Toji sighed as he leaned back onto his feet, and crossed his bulky arms, pondering the ways to get you out of the otherwise empty bar.

It was 12:58 am and the other inebriated customers had gone out by themselves or with their friends dragging them along. Except for you, softly snoring on the sticky counter.

His coworker shrugged at him when the ravennette glanced at the shorter male for help. “Just get her out of here. I’ll clean up the rest, and you owe me this one,” always so kind—how Toji wished he could smooch that man right then.

“Thanks, man,” Toji’s eyes curved in moon crescents, before settling his sight onto your dozed frame. His finger pressed against your temple, and your head lolled to the side in suit of a light push; a trail of drool slipping past your plump lips. You were completely and utterly out of it, huh?

Grasping onto your arm, the male lightly shook you awake, the warmth from his calloused palm stimulating your nerves vivified. “Hey, Mr. Bartender…” you had an uneven smile on your crooked lips, sleepiness bubbling into the air with every laggard blink as you breathily chuckled. “Are you gonna bring me home?”

“I don’t know about that, princess,” his tone was syrupy sweet and it licked the ends of your lips upwards into a velvety grin. “But we gotta go now. Come on,” Toji’s hands came to yours, gently pulling you off of the bar stool. You followed after his guide, slipping your card into your pocket before frisking behind him like a lamb to the door.

The burly male turned to his wrist after the door swung close in the wake of your exit, checking his watch; it read 1:04 am. The train station is closed and it’s going to kill his conscience if he leaves you by the streets like he always does with intoxicated male customers. He has no idea where you stay anyway—best to call a friend of yours to take you home.

“(Y/N)?”

A grating, vexatious voice called. The two of you swivelled your gaze to the source to find your cheating, insipid creature of an ex with an arm thrown over some chick’s shoulders, chortling at the unstable mess you were. Your eyes were puffy and tumid from the hours of crying slash ranting session, and you were anything but lucid from the way you looked.

How fucking lucky.

“What you got going on here? Getting kicked out of a bar?” your ex taunted, nearing his face to yours as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Y-You…as—”

“Have the lady some of her space, buddy,” Toji’s authoritative voice prevailed over yours as he pushed the male away, rendering him to helplessly stumble backward into a fall. The woman in his arm hid her giggle with a gasp before helping his fuming ass up, his face beet red from his ignominious tumble.

“Who are you?” he barked, eyelids flying open to show the hidden whites and teeth bared in belligerence.

“A man who can make her cum, without begging her to fake it,” the woman burst into a half-concealed snicker when the ravennette broke the air with his unanticipated words. Your face grew to be saturated with ardent red, from both the intoxicant that coursed through your veins and the sentence you thought you had heard.

“I call it bullshit,” your ex spat with his upper lip pulled up in disrelish. There’s a flash of humiliation in his glare—he knew Toji seemed better than him and it killed him to know you’ve got suitors who are way out of his league.

“It’s true,” you tapped Toji’s metallically stiff chest with a twisted, satisfied smirk on your rat-arsed face. “He toootally didn’t just stick his dick in me and call it a day, y’know?”

“Fucking whore.”

“What d’ya say?!” you screeched, ready to pounce on the asshole. “I sent you to the ER once, and I’ll do it again!”

“Alright, that’s enough, princess,” Toji tenaciously held onto your arm, and you’re stuck by him even without him using much strength. “We don’t want you dirtying your hands, do we?”

A nasty shove met the male’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. It was merely a fraction of Toji’s force, and it already had the male choking to breathe on the ground.

“Speak to her like that again, and it’s not going to be just a push,” you could hear the rise of a dour, serrated threat in his tone, and it begot the asshole to cower back in trepidation.

Pussy, Toji grimace. Albeit he was no saint himself but he absolutely despises the ilk of guys your ex filtered into—boisterous and a bully to women, yet nothing but a trifling mutt in front of men.

A tug of his arm, and your limbs wrapped around his wretched him out of his state of visceral contempt. “Take me home!” you ineptly exclaimed, a gruntled grin on your adorable, roguish face.

Briefly riveting his baleful gaze onto the splayed male on the bitumen, Toji steered you uphill towards the parking lot as you clumsily tottered aside him.

The encounter with the small-dick fucker sure rendered him more understanding of your evening of outburst. Plus, for you to be cheated on that piece of work was truly the icing on the cake. “Poor you, huh?”

“Forget ‘bout him! You were so cool I almost cummed right there and then,” you teasingly giggled as you peered at him through your heavy eyelids.

Fuck—it’s no good for you to be saying that with that look on your face.

His eyes rest ahead the road as you soon come to near the bright red C8 Corvette the woman he’s estranged with had previously gifted him, the car standing out amongst the parked vehicles like a sore thumb.

Your eyes scintillated in awe when the car luridly flashed and beeped in the night, “That’s yours?!” you cried aloud, frisking all the way to the car, before stumbling over thin air and nearly jolting forward into a fall. Luckily, Toji was quick enough to catch you by your arm, saving your knee a painful event of bloody excoriation. “Oopsie daisie.”

Cute, Toji chortled.

Jumping into the vehicle, the potent roar of the engine cut through the midnight air after you’ve settled neatly in the passenger seat, the only thing missing was the safety belt that was supposed to secure your form. Reaching to your side, Toji’s hand briefly brushed over your exposed thigh, the hem of your short dress riding up to merely cover your panty.

A soft, almost inaudible noise fled your lips, and his eyes laid on your face, the faint, intimate gold beam from the street lamp illuminating your glowing features. Your orbs were luminous through the dark, and it roused an innate lasciviousness that lay dormant in his core.

The liquor that flowed through your blood vessels had not quelled through the lapse of time, but it did not take away your clarity to feel the tension that electrified the air molecules into sweltering magnetism. And gosh do you want to snatch the constriction in the atmosphere and tear it through your canines.

“Touch me,” you whispered, so soft and vulnerable Toji could seemingly snap you in half with just a touch.

“You’re drunk, princess,” he reminded, yet he remained unshifted over your smaller frame, his hand merely a molecule from your tempting flesh that sang for his warmth.

“No,” you were firm. Something in you purled, bubbling a heavy, demanding need to have him devour you. “I want you,” your breath was hot, scorchingly so; airy and desperate.

“You want me?” his hand fell to your wrist, grasping your soft skin under his heavy hold, and guiding you over to his seat, straddling his lap. His gaze cut through your eyes, daubing pressure against your jumbled nerves, his intensity threatened to slice through the silky jugular of your vulnerability. And you nearly moaned under his eyes.

You gingerly nodded at him, and you thought the knit between your brows was enough to speak for your neediness.

His grip on your wrist tightened a fraction before you missed the heat radiating from his palm. “Careful, princess. You might regret this,” he had paved a way out, it’s a leave it or fuck it situation served beneath your fingertip—and all the atoms in your body leaped into the growling blaze in the abyss residing in his essence.

“Please,” your voice was barely a note above a mumble, yet the weight of your single word mitigated any marshalled resistance in him.

His hands slid up your thighs, inching under your dress, sending tingles to your throbbing core. The intensity that radiated from him ceased to waver as he leaned against your neck, brushing against your skin as you gulped. Dark, ashen clouds drew above the emerald forest of his before he spoke, almost threateningly against your throat, “I want you to remember every single detail of this in the morning.”

With a breathless nod, you had swung the floodgates of your amenability open to his guttural thirst. The heavy, rapacious waves of your desires crash into superposition. You were the fuel and he was the fire, together the air detonated into space.

His wet lips met yours in a whim, sucking onto your flesh until it stung, greedily tasting every crook and cranny of your wet cavern with the bumps of his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your hands flew to clutch onto his head, deepening the kiss to reach his insides while his rough fingers sank into the plump flesh of your ass.

Your lips burned with his saliva, and his tongue fluttered with yours. The atmosphere felt all-consuming, gripping onto your throat and restricting the air from flushing down your windpipe. Yet, your core pulsed between your thighs, an excited blaze slowly roaring into something bigger than you could handle.

Your chest rose and fell in a quick tempo when you snatched your lips away from his, grasping as much air as you could within a second before you dove right into him. Albeit your sight was hazy, you caught sight of the luminous flush that panned over his cheeks.

Pretty, pretty. You chanted in your head as your hands slid down to his clothes, clumsily popping the buttons off of the garment that kept the warmth of his skin away from your touch. You want him, you want him.

Your fingers nearly melted when they met his hot, sinewy chest, and Toji’s teeth sank a little too hard into your bottom lip when you teased his nipples under your touch, innervating them hard with every flick. The salient bulge in his pants rolled against your folds, merely separated by an annoying piece of your underwear, and your moans jumbled into each other’s mouths

“Fuck, princess. You’re driving me crazy,” Toji breathily groaned when your sloppy lips sundered apart, a hot string of mixed saliva connecting your swollen, red lips together. His large hands lifted your ass up into the air as he palmed them, the warmth from him sending a snuggly sensation through your body. “It’s no fun when only you get to tease.”

Your eyes playfully gleamed, before the light shot out of the crater of your orbs—his finger pressed against your sodden panty, damp with arousal. The tingles shyly reached through your belly as he rubbed your hardening bud, and your body shuddered against his.

“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured against your jaw, leaving trails of bruised kisses down your jugular. His hand left your heat just as the high came close to your clutch, leaving you with nothing but the lingering cold touches of his.

With a defeated sigh, you ground your knee against his growing hardness, your finger shyly rubbing against the clothed tip of the constrained mount, the spot slowly growing dark from amativeness.

Toji sunk deeper into the headrest as you touched him, his exposed chest ceaselessly rising and falling. His breath hitched in his throat when you twirled his sensitive nipple between your fingers; your heated exhales warming the side of his neck as his grip almost painfully firmed onto the fat of your ass.

You didn’t allow his peaking orgasm to come through, forcing yourself off of his sore, throbbing erection, and your teeth bared into a dirty smile. “I am playing fair.”

“You want to test me, princess?” he chuckled, the bassy timbre of his scratching the knot of an itch inside your ears. A gasp leaped out of your throat as your body jolted forward, his seat clicked backward to its maximum taut, “I’ll make you cry for more.”

You found your back nestled in his stead, your thighs spread open with his calloused hand slipping down your supple flesh. His fingers tapped nearer and nearer to your heat, before slipping off your soiled panty.

“So fuckin’ wet,” Toji sucked an inhale through his teeth as he leered at your dripping sex—thick, rough thumb fluttering friction on your clit once again. Your eyelids flitted shut as you softly moaned against the air, the smell of your arousal filled the confinement of the car; the scent nearly making him growl when it panged hard against his nostrils.

You watched as Toji slipped a thick finger into your velvety folds, feeling it trodding past your walls. Your heat snugly enveloped him as he filled your inside with another digit, his two fingers pressing, and running themselves over your slick cunny. “Gotta stretch you good for me, princess.”

Your back inched into the seat with a contented sigh, enjoying the build-up of ticklish pressure stacking up your tummy. Toji was ridiculously dexterous with his fingers—deftly stroking your cunt, and quick to find the spot in you that innervated your pure senses with a ting.

“S-Shit—” your body was subservient to his touches; your spine curved into an arch, your toes curled tight and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. “M’feel so good. Toji—fuck,” it was as if his fingers were gilded in Eros’ heavenly blessing, the godly grace spilling into your pleasure. Tears began prickling at the sides of your eyes from how hard you were squeezing them, your flailing legs kicking against the dashboard of his car.

“So pretty when you cry,” Toji groaned under his breath, his damp restraints painfully throbbing from the way your squelching walls tightened around his fingers—oh, how he fucking wish it was his cock in you right there and then.

His touches were singing your walls into melting squirts of drool, pearls of arousal weeping between your thighs in the wake of his careful strokes. Never were you touched in such a way, and you felt like balling from how good it felt. “M’ close! M’gonna cum! Oh my gosh—!”

“Come on. Cum for me, princess,” you could hear his smirk in his voice as pleasure kissed your senses, fluttering through your electrified nerves and sending a jolt of tingles all over your body. Your mouth was lax open into an ‘o’, nails marking his skin as they sank deeper into his arm, and your walls tightly spasmed with a wave of rough euphoria cracking your bones weak. You fucking came from his mere fingers.

Your eyes bat open with your lips sundered from your pants, your face ardently glowing from your subduing high. “Fuck…” your wet thighs quivered from the sheer force of your orgasm, and you blinked in disbelief.

Over 2 decades of living and it was the first time cumming from a real man, not your fingers nor toys. But the brawny, sex-dripped male slipping your dress off of your spent body.

You almost fell in love.

Pushing him down the driver’s seat, you crawled over Toji’s firm thighs, running your finger from his chest to his muscle-packed abdomen, then down to the wristband. You were flickering to take charge, and he sank down to your guidance, rough palms resting on your hips.

Your dress was off, divulging the bare curves of your body, sweat-glazed skin iridescent under the moonbeam and your sex-flushed features were begging for him. You look so, fucking, perfect that he had to bite down the need to ruin you on the spot.

His hips impatiently thrust upwards into your sticky cunt, grinding his pack against you, urgency in his essence demanding your heat. “Don’t keep me waiting now,” he purred, with a silent warning tagging behind his words.

Your fingers tugged the waistband of his pants along with his briefs, a drive in you matching his pacing hastiness. His shaft sprang out of its painful confinement, and your eyes nearly popped out from the sheer look of his cock.

He was oozing with sticky pre-cum from his angry, red tip, throbbing veins ran from the base of his length to the curved head—the size of him bigger than any you’ve seen. The smell of his masculine essence hit your senses and a new pool of arousal began drawing in your tummy, your pussy walls squeezing in empty neediness.

“There’s no backing out now, princess,” Toji’s fingers firmly gripped onto your ass, lifting you over his cock, hovering.

“Who said I’m backing out?” you gulped, before lowering yourself down, his fat cockhead kissing your pussy lips before your hips greedily sank down his length, oblivious to the crackle of tingles it would send to your nerves.

“Careful there,” he teased with a chuckle as you let out an instinctual gasp from the way his girth stretched past your velvety walls, the slick sound of your arousal-dripped cunt, and his heavy shaft bubbled into the air, and scorched your cheeks red.

“M-My gosh…” you cried as your hazy gaze fell to the bulge jutting from the inside of your tummy, your walls taut with his heavy cock buried inside you. “I’m s’full, Toji.”

“Mhm,” he cooed, brushing his hands over the sides of your smooth thighs. “But you gotta start moving, baby.”

Gingerly, you lift your hips up before slowly inching them down his length. Your walls clenched as your sex rubbed friction, and you could feel every pulsing vein of his just as he could feel your fluttering warmth.

“Feel good, princess?” Toji asked breathily, your head faintly nodded, but there was a hint of a dubious glint in your fallen gaze, your knees lifting and sinking your weight.

“I need your help…” your voice cracked in disappointment as you paused, tears of frustration edging by your eyes. You couldn’t seem to grasp a steady pace no matter how long you painfully rode.

“What d’ya say?”

Your orbs looked as though they were melting off of your sweat-glazed skin, blinks of fervourish plea clawing from your drunken gaze into his. “Please, Toji,” your voice hitched, and you’re humping his pelvis. “Please…I want to feel good.”

Aww. How fucking adorable.

You yelped when you felt yourself being raised and slammed down his cock, your folds burning with every stretch of your walls. And it feels so good. “Y-Yes…” your eyes closed shut, fingers scrambling to grip his locks. “T-Toji—mhaa!”

“You’re so fuckin’ cute screaming my name,” the curve of his tip perfectly kissed your g-spot with each piston of his hips, and every time the twitching head of his meat met your gummy part, it sent a flash of electricity up your spine.

“S-Sho good—” you slurred through your words, weighed head lolling idly to every thrust of his fat cock.

“No one can get you dripping off their cock like this, huh?”

“Mmh—yes!” the space between your brows was crumpled into a tensed frown, your hips bouncing up and down his thick girth with his hands guiding your pace. “I love it! I love your cock!”

Toji let out a low groan when you cried, bucking himself deeper into your sloppy mess of a cunt and kissing the surface of your cervix. “Fuck—I love an honest girl.”

Your muscles nearly melted off of your bones as he continued to fucked himself deeper than you’ve ever felt, reaching the parts you didn’t know could be touched and your features dropped with his touches on your deep intimacy. A fierce sear of heat burned through your tingling womb, and it threatened to consume your body whole. “M’ cummin’! Toji—!”

“I know, I know, let it out f’me. Come on,” he grunted, keeping his grip firm on your arms as he fucked himself hard and deep into you. He could feel your squelching cunny clench, so tight as for the purpose of milking him on the spot. “Keep bouncin’ on my cock, yeah?”

“Nngh—No more!” you squealed. “N-No—” his thumb drew between your shaking thighs and greedily swiped over your blushing clit. Your fingernails sank into your palms as you gripped for dear sanity, his cock continuously violating your fluttering spots until they grew sore.

“I can make you feel better, princess,” he mumbled tinglingly against your neck, sinking his teeth down your flesh to hold back a shaky moan. His pleasure was inching to fly to release, and your tight clutch onto his shaft was nothing but a catalytic lure.

“S’ hurts—please!” your babbles were almost indecipherable as he rammed into your sore cunt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh holding onto you tenaciously; pushing you right to the edge of oblivion as he clung onto his nearing release.

“Cum f’me again, baby?”

“M’can’t! Still sensitive—!” you cried before another orgasm shot through your core. You felt as if you were sent up into the ether, stars teeming through your body as the waves of pleasure sent you on a vertigo ride. Your gasps dragged through your lips, your eyelids hung heavily over your bleary eyes, with tears slipping down your hot cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—M’close too, baby,” Toji swore through his bared teeth, his cock painfully twitching as thick semen surged through his tip—his hips rolled as your cunt squeezed his remaining sanity, popping them like fireworks before they burst into nothingness.

Your essence squirted out of your tensed cunny, shooting with his mixed cum that dripped down his belly. Your breaths shaky and hot with heightened senses, your sticky sex pulsing in overstimulation.

Exhausted, you fell prostrated on top of his hard muscle-built body, head undulating with the ups and downs of his heaving chest. And slowly, your cognisance drifted back into your mind, the aftermath of everything—the alcohol and the sex, pummelled into you like a heavy truck. Unforgivingly so.

“Toji…I really feel like pukin—”

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froggibus · 2 months

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i’m begging you for some nsfw hcs with wade & logan

i NEED more info about jealous sex with them specifically

please and thank you 💋💋

Jealousy Sex - Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson

Pairing: Logan Howlett x reader (no pronouns are used but has a pussy) x Wade Wilson

Genre: smut/nsfw

CW: poly! relationship, jealousy, possession, scent kink/scenting, taunting & humiliation, oral, double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, AFTERCARE

omg of course!! the two of them being jealous over you would be such a handful >~< id love to write a full length of this sometime too!! thank you for the request lovely 💓

these two are such a handful when they’re jealous

Logan has no patience for other men getting in your personal space

if some other guy is talking to you too long or starting to get a little too close

he comes and stands behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your neck

he’ll make a big show of it too, sucking at your skin and breathing in your scent

“d’ya smell that? hm?”

you scrunch your eyebrows together, wondering what’s about to come

“that’s my scent. mine. all fuckin’ over ya.”

he’s dragging you upstairs to the nearest locked bedroom before you can even react

sex with him while he’s jealous can go either way depending on just how riled up he is

sometimes it’s deep and intimate, going until you’ve forgotten the rest of the world

or it’s rough and hard and biting, until your head is spinning and his name is the only thing you can remember

he’ll have you face down in the pillows, his grip on your hips so tight you swear he’s using his claws

his cock bullies so deep inside of you that tears form in your eyes and you have to wind your hands into the sheets to keep from screaming

and once you throw Wade into the mix…

Wade does NOT get jealous easily & even if he does, he just jokes it off

it would take a lot to get him going & god help you if he does

he’ll swoop in when someone’s hitting on you and press himself in real close

not nearly as showy as Logan but he’ll make real good eye contact with them and call them out for it

“i know i know” he’ll kiss the side of your head. “so fuckable, right?“

he’ll have you propped on the counter of the nearest bathroom, his face stuffed between your legs in an instant

he’s holding your legs open with ease & relentlessly licking your poor, overstimulated clit

every time you try to shuffle away or close your legs he’s pushing them further apart

“ahahah, not yet baby. if you can still move then I haven’t done my job right.”

when they’re together & jealous?? you’re not leaving that room for hours and they’re going to fucking ruin you

they’ll have you whining and overstimulated long before either of them slip inside of you

they take turns over who gets to eat you out, the other holding your legs open and mumbling a tantalizing mix of praise and degradation in your ears

they’re both dirty talk kings

by the time Logan slips his cock through your folds, your legs are already shaking

you’re moaning so damn loud that Wade has to shove his cock in your mouth to keep the people at the party from hearing

the two of them can go for hours thanks to their regeneration and if you think you’re getting out anytime before that…

once you’re nice and fucked out in Logan’s arms, Wade’s sliding his cock inside of you and then they’re both fucking you

they get SO caught up in the moment trying to one up each other too—the only thing they can agree upon is that you’re theirs

when the night is over, you’ll be stuffed to the brim with cum and half-conscious, fucked out on the bed

they’ll clean you up nice and good though

Wade is the best ever at aftercare, he’ll always have water and a warm cloth for you (or in this case, a tshirt he stole from the closet)

meanwhile Logan will massage your aching muscles and shaking limbs, kissing your feverish skin

masterlist | marvel masterlist

if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! i appreciate every like, comment & reblog i receive ^^

#deadpool #Wolverine #deadpool and Wolverine #Deadpool x reader #deadpool x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #Wade Wilson x reader #wade Wilson x you #Wade Wilson #logan Howlett x reader #logan Howlett x you #logan Howlett #deadpool Headcanons #Wolverine Headcanons #Wolverine smut #deadpool smut #logan Howlett Headcanons #Wade Wilson Headcanons

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earl-of-221b · 11 months

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I can’t explain what blue eye samurai makes me feel…….its a typical revenge story, a man sets out on his hero’s journey to kill the four men who have wronged him. A lone ronin, wide brimmed hat and sword in hand, roaming Edo Japan on his vendetta. But he’s not a man. He’s a woman. And how has he been wronged? What’s she getting revenge on?

On the fact that she exists. She wants revenge on the four white men that could possibly have conceived her. Who got her Japanese mother pregnant with a blue-eyed child. And not just any blue-eyed child, but a girl child. How is she possibly supposed to live in the world like that? For the wrong of being conceived, for the wrong of being born, for the wrong of being birthed into a world that will never love or accept her, she will kill her father.

I don’t know what level of convoluted self hate that is. Is she a child of rape? Or a child of a whore? Halfway through I realise what she told herself at the start couldn’t possibly be true - it’s not really for her mother. Her mother wasn’t the root of her vendetta, she wasn’t really doing it for her. When she leaves that farm and leaves the chance to live a simple, legitimate life as a woman, she goes right back to hunting down the men. Those men personally wronged her.

And then there’s so much to be discussed surrounding the way she grew up, because as a boy child and a man she can afford so much more than life has dealt her. Her swordfather who took her in out of the love and care in his heart had no shame in teaching a mixed man his art. The face of a ‘demon’ is fine. But not the identity of a woman. Shh. Don’t say it. Don’t confess. He knows and doesn’t want to hear it.

And because she’s lived that way her entire life for safety and security, she’s so completely alienated from being a woman, perhaps she really is he. But not really by choice. Or is it? The thing she does best is the art of killing, the art of men. Gender is a prison and gender is a performance and she has to choose which to perform. The times cannot reconcile hatred and violence with a woman. So she lives as a man.

So she can get revenge on her father, for revenge on herself.

#blue eye samurai #everything about mizu is so deeply upsetting #like ok revenge!!#revenge of what - exactly?!#white men?#and/ or your white self?#born against your will?#and who and what shapes this will of yours except the society you were born in?#this is so deeply fucked in every way #but anyways #I love Mizu and I hope he kills his father dead. if only - if only that would satisfy her.#my posts

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saintobio · 2 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑. (second part to 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.)

in the battle of hearts, he was the conqueror, and you, the conquered, for his love was a war you could never win. but if in this ruthless battlefield, only one can come out victorious, could you still turn things around and let the victor be you?

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader previously works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, sylus is a little ooc, main story spoilers, melodic weave spoilers, lots of timeskip, fast-paced, lore heavy, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, sweetie), explicit smut, cunnilingus (f!receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, espionage, reader smoking, reckless driving, violence, spitting, choking, jealousy, usage of guns, suicide (or attempts thereof), death, and a twist in the end i can’t reveal.

♱ notes. 10.4k words too lazy to edit T-T also, there’s a scene that will remind you of nwh :))) part 1 is already fine as is, so this one is just an extra.

— 1 YEAR AFTER.

“Got an invitation?”

Only barely did you lift your head up, just enough to meet the bouncer’s eyes as you handed over the invitation. “I’m a regular.”

“Lady, I don’t think so.” The man scrutinized you with itching suspicion, then turned on his flashlight to verify the authenticity of your invitation by looking at every corner of the paper. Was he trying to look for any flaw just to say it was fake? Jesus. For an entire minute, his eyes darted between you and the letter, as though debating whether or not to let you inside.

“Come on,” you said impatiently, tapping your feet on the ground, “I’m not someone you should keep waiting.”

He was ready with a rebuttal, still reluctant to let you in, until a familiar sight of purple hair peeked from behind the entrance. Your savior for the night—it was Rafayel.

“Let her in,” he said, ushering you inside and giving the bouncer a knowing look. “She’s with me.”

Fucking finally.

The neon red LED signage of The Nest flickered against the grimy walls, serving as the only bright light in the sketchy dark surroundings. The bar was a haven for those seeking refuge from the law and a place to trade secrets, as it was brimming with intel from a network of people. From high ranking officials, businessmen, and criminals—just offer your part of the bargain and you’d find a good trade in no time.

It wasn’t your first time there, but your negative impression of the place remained unchanged.

You strode through the crowd with Rafayel, and your eyes scanned the room with practiced ease. There were still familiar faces around, though most of the people had gone unrecognized as it had been awhile since you last came here.

“Wearing a hoodie in a place like this,” Rafayel spoke into your ear, his voice barely audible over the loud music. “You stick out like a sore thumb, you know?”

You merely shrugged, keeping your face hidden under the large black hoodie until Rafayel secured you inside a private balcony he had reserved for the night. Once inside, you quickly pulled the hoodie down and comfortably revealed your face.

“Just give me what I asked you so I can leave,” you commanded, your tone assertive.

Rafayel, however, only smirked as he sat on the couch across from you. “Be patient. We’re still missing one person.”

One person? “Who—” Your attention was caught by the figure of a lean, white-haired man entering the private balcony in a calm and quiet manner. A person so familiar to you that you couldn’t even keep eye contact with him. Xavier.

Xavier might be civil around you, but you knew that if the circumstances were different, he would have let Lumiere show up to assassinate you in one strike. It didn’t matter if you were colleagues before, he still always had his guard around you. Though, things had become more complicated for everyone. And friends who had become enemies, were now allies again.

Somehow.

“Well, isn’t this a delightful gathering? I have two wanted individuals in the N109 Zone here with me,” you quipped, pointing to Rafayel first. “You’ve got a bounty on your head,” then to Xavier, “You’ve got a bounty on your head, too. Damn, I’d be rich if I turned you both in.”

Xavier stayed leaning against the door with his arms crossed. “That makes three of us, then,” he replied in a stolid mien, nodding toward the wall behind you.

Your eyes adjusted from the dark before it finally landed on a large, tattered poster pinned to the wall near the bar. The bold letters at the top read the following:

MOST WANTED! Y/N L/N Alias: Scarlet Viper Reward: 500,000,000 Credits Crimes: Betrayal of Onychinus Espionage Intelligence Leaks Treason Status: Traitor Last Known Location: N109 Zone, Linkon City Beware: Y/N L/N is considered extremely dangerous and cunning. She is highly skilled in espionage and intelligence gathering, and is now a traitor to Onychinus. Approach with extreme caution. All bounty hunters and loyal Onychinus followers are authorized to apprehend her by any means necessary. Payment will be made upon successful capture or confirmation of her whereabouts. Contact: Report all sightings and information to the Onychinus base. Payment is guaranteed for verified leads.

The grainy image was unmistakable—it was your own face in that poster staring back at you. But instead of acting hurt or even alarmed, a laugh bubbled up from deep within you, growing louder and more unhinged as you took in the sight. Heads turned from outside the private room, curious and wary, as your laughter echoed through the balcony.

“Crazy bastard,” you muttered to yourself between fits of laughter. “Sylus really went all out this time, huh?”

Preferably Alive? You mused at the highlighted words on the poster. Did he want me alive so he’d be the one to kill me?

The absurdity of it all washed over you. Here you were, once Sylus’s most trusted confidante, now branded a traitor with a bounty on your head. Even Luke and Kieran wouldn’t spare you. In fact, they might even be the first ones to capture you had they received the slightest intel on your whereabouts. Ha ha ha! Your maniacal laughter was a cocktail of bitterness, amusement, and the thrill of the rebellion that had driven you to this point. The very people you treated like family, were now your enemies.

You composed yourself, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye as you glanced around. The patrons were still watching—Xavier with concern for your sanity, and Rafayel with amusement to your charade.

“Not what you expected from your ‘lover’?” mocked Rafayel, shifting into a more comfortable position.

But you were ready with a confident reply. “Oh, I expected just as much. It’s flattering, really, that he hasn’t found me despite all his connections.”

Xavier adopted a more serious tone when he added, “He hasn’t been seen anywhere himself. It’s been months since the raid happened, and the Onychinus faction is still leaderless.”

“Sylus isn’t that pathetic,” you replied, pulling a pack of cigarettes from your pocket. You lit one up with a flick of your lighter, and the flame briefly illuminated your face. “He’s just laying low. He’s got plenty of properties to hide in, but the H.A. will need to pay me extra if they want intel on his locations.”

Rafayel smirked. “Oh, come on now, we know you won’t give up his hideouts that easily. You still care about his safety after all. Right, Miss Scarlet?”

You displayed a defensive stance as referred to you by your alias. “I care about whether or not that hunter girl you’re all obsessed with stopped chasing after him,” you said, irritation now lacing your once-sarcastic tone. “A deal’s a deal. Keep her out of the N109 Zone and away from Sylus, and I’ll keep my hands off her. Otherwise, I’ll be happy to send a bullet or two to her head.”

“You—” “Don’t even try—”

Both boys sprang from their seats and yelled simultaneously, as if your vague threat against the apple of their eyes activated their mode of defensiveness. In all honesty, you admired how much they cared to protect that girl. That despite their rivalry, they were willing to do anything to keep her safe. You were the biggest threat to her life right now, but eliminating you wasn’t exactly an easy feat now that the H.A. had your back.

So, this was their compromise. A mutually beneficial arrangement. In simpler terms, they need to keep the girl away from Sylus. Giving intel about Onychinus and its boss was already your part of the bargain. Theirs was to ensure that the hunter girl had no means to contact Sylus or even enter N109 Zone whenever she wanted.

“Hand out her brooch,” you demanded, gesturing for Rafayel to hand out the very piece you were here for. “It’s about time I come home.”

Rafayel’s eyes widened in curiosity. “You’re really returning to the N109 Zone?”

Xavier’s face mirrored his concern, likely because you carried the largest bounty of all the wanted fugitives in the most dangerous No-Hunt Zone. But honestly, their unease puzzled you. If they wanted to keep the girl safe, having you out of Linkon City would be to their advantage. Besides, the brooch would give you unrestricted access to the N109 Zone—something you wanted to take from the hunter girl who generously received it from Sylus.

“Stop stalling and give it to me,” you insisted, your frustration growing by the second. “I’m sick of this place.”

Rafayel sighed and tossed the brooch to you. “You must be crazy.”

— 1 YEAR AGO.

“You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.”

Sylus had the power to end you right then and there. If he truly intended to kill you to protect that woman, all he needed was to intensify the pressure of his evol around you. Yet, as he observed the shifting expressions on your face, Sylus chose to ease the bone-crushing pressure of the black-red mist that encircled your body.

You collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath like fish out of the sea. But Sylus looked down at you with a cold, unyielding gaze. “I’m just showing you mercy now,” he said, his voice devoid of its usual warmth. “If you dare touch her, I’ll break every bone in your body for real next time. You’re just gonna be another dead body to me.”

With that final threat, Sylus kicked your gun away and vanished into the dead of night, leaving you alone and vulnerable in the dark alleyway. Even Mephisto, who often guarded your safety, was completely out of sight. Sylus must be happy knowing that his last words pierced through your soul—its pain gnawing at your heart and ripping every artery apart. How easily was it for him to tear you asunder despite giving you his mercy? The turmoil inside you was almost unbearable, and you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Ultimately, you chose both.

Sitting on the gravel, you clenched your fists, tears mingling with the dirt on the concrete. Anger, spite, and hatred consumed you. All you wanted was revenge.

And so, a few weeks after that, you decided to pack your bags and run away from the N109 Zone. Away from the place where Sylus was the boss of everyone. Away from a place where his omnipresence would not reach or track you.

Your destination of choice was Linkon, not because you wanted to live in that city, but because it was once your home. Returning to the bustling metropolis after four years was driven by a single purpose, and it was to see a few key people who could help you achieve your revenge.

The bright and busy streets of Linkon City were still a stark contrast to the dark and gritty atmosphere of the N109 Zone. But because you had lived most of your years here than its more dangerous counterpart, it was easy for you to maneuver through the fast-moving crowd while navigating through the complicated subway stations that even Luke and Kieran would struggle with. That day, your mind was set on your first destination: Akso Hospital.

Dr. Zayne’s clinic was tucked away in a quiet corner of the hospital. While it took some finesse to secure an appointment under a false name, you managed it without raising suspicion. After all, four years in the N109 Zone had taught you how to camouflage into roles you never expected to play.

Obviously, he was surprised to see you entering his clinic as if he had seen a ghost. His usual stoic countenance was momentarily replaced by a state of discombobulation when you finally sat across from him in his sterile, white office. “Zayne,” you cut straight to the chase. “I need to know about the girl with the Aether Core.”

Four years ago, Zayne was the last person you talked to about the Aether Core before plunging into the dangers of the N109 Zone. He knew more about it than anyone else in Linkon. Therefore, he would also be the first person you sought out upon your return.

Dr. Zayne’s expression remained impassive, however. “I’m afraid patient confidentiality prevents me from discussing any details.”

You leaned forward, your voice low and urgent, as you pressed a hand against his desk. “I’m not here for pleasantries, Zayne. I need answers. How and where does she have it?”

You had to know. You really, badly ought to know. Because knowing where she had the Aether Core would acquaint you where exactly to target her when the opportunity arises.

But in spite of the desperation in your voice, Dr. Zayne regarded you with a cool, clinical detachment. “Whatever you’re planning, I would prefer that you don’t involve an innocent person in it. If you want answers, seek it somewhere else.”

Dammit! His actions and strange avoidance of the subject were all the hints you needed. Zayne liked that girl. And he would never be the person to put her in a dangerous position.

In that case, there was only one place left to turn, a place you had avoided for far too long. It even took you three days to gather the confidence you needed to even step foot into the familiar halls of The Hunter's Association’s most secretive department, the Hunter Intelligence Services or the HIS—the very place where undercover agents and intelligence officers resided. It was hidden beneath the city and only the high ranking hunters knew and had access to it, because being a spy certainly wasn’t for the weak heart.

It was time to confront your true past.

The entryway to the headquarters didn’t change. And to your surprise, pulling out your access card still granted you entrance to the quarters. Were they anticipating your return or did they simply miss the task of revoking your access card?

Descending further into the underground facility, however, you were met with a familiar sense of unease. The sterile, metal hallways seemed to close in around you as you approached Lauryn’s office. She was the head of the department, your true boss, and the person who tasked you into infiltrating the N109 Zone four years ago.

Lauryn was there as you entered, her sharp eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms at you. You were right. She did anticipate your arrival, because the advanced CCTV monitors around the city were displayed all over the room. “What brings you back to the fold?” she asked, stern and unwelcoming, “Are you going to beg on my knees for turning your back against the Hunter’s Association?”

Feisty as ever. Her austerity was harsher than you remembered, but then again, there was no room for shame after all the crimes you committed while supposedly being a spy in the N109 Zone.

“I need your help,” you admitted, shamelessly. “I have intel on Sylus and the Onychinus. Extremely valuable information that you need. In exchange, there’s something I want you to do.”

Lauryn’s expression was unreadable as she leaned back against the wall. “So, you’ve decided to turn on your beloved Sylus? What happened to your loyalty? Is it always this unstable?”

You took a deep breath, not allowing her words to get to you. “I just… need to protect my interests.”

“Interests?” The woman guffawed at your chosen words. “And do your interests also include betraying the H.A. because you fell in love with the enemy? Or did the enemy also betray you that’s why you’re crawling back here now?”

She hit the sore spot, but you masked your voice with defensive indifference. “If that’s how you define it, then so be it. I’m not asking to be recruited by the H.A. again, I know that. I broke the Hunter’s Code and I’m marked as a Tenebra now, but…” Letting out a heavy exhale, you looked into her eyes, “Lauryn, you know I have the most intel you’ll get about Sylus and Onychinus out of everyone. Not even Xavier as Lumiere would have this much intel as I do.”

How could she deny such an offer? You knew the temptation was heavy since you were speaking the truth; you worked for Sylus for four years. You have all the necessary intel they need to even get to him.

For a millisecond, you caught the corner of Lauryn’s lips twitching upwards with a glint of approval hiding in her eyes, but she was pretty good at concealing her emotions. “Very well. Share your intel, and I’ll see what I can do.”

The past year had been a blur of longing and subterfuge.

You supplied Lauryn with detailed intelligence on Onychinus’s illicit activities, including their smuggling routes, black market transactions, and the clandestine trade of armory and protocores with corrupt officials. You also exposed Sylus’s personal connections to the high ranking officials who were secretly doing business with him. This information immediately set off a series of events aimed at destabilizing Onychinus, providing sufficient evidence to provoke a significant response from the Hunter’s Association and law enforcement.

In return, you requested two things: 1) for the Hunter’s Association to offer you protection and support against Onychinus’s threats; and 2) for them to enforce restrictions and surveillance on the hunter girl, ensuring she remained completely isolated from Sylus and the N109 Zone.

It would have been better if they had chastised her. You had convinced Lauryn that a public whipping would be the perfect punishment, but the H.A. upheld principles far better than yours. After all, you had been stripped of your morality after living in a lawless environment under the influence of the mastermind himself. Being in the N109 Zone for too long dehumanized you. But for your peers in Linkon… they could never harm that hunter girl for some reason, and had been treating her like a valuable asset under everyone's protection—even Sylus’s.

You hated it. You hated her. And each time you caught a glimpse of her around Linkon, your hands were often itching to take out a gun and end her life.

But that was easier said than done. Besides, you decided to harness all of your anger towards Sylus himself because he was the one who had tossed you aside after she came to his life. He was the one responsible for the wounds in your heart that would never heal.

It had been a year. You wondered if he ever even thought about you, or did his anger completely consume him to the point where all he wanted to do was kill you?

“Of course,” you mumbled under your breath, scoffing as you remembered the bounty he had placed on you. He was definitely apoplectic at the fact that you ruined his plans, and that you took his precious hunter girl away from him. The thought of you betraying him and Onychinus probably made him ballistic.

But to think about it, who betrayed who first?

Everyone knew the difficulty of getting into the N109 Zone. Keeping yourself safe while inside the lawless city was also another struggle. Yet, for someone like you who belonged here better than in Linkon, you were already used to the ins and outs of its dangerous scene. And having the hunter girl’s brooch was your gateway to return to the city unsuspiciously.

Pushing through the throng of people, you made your way to a nondescript door at the back of the bar. Two burly guards stood in front, their expressions deadpan as they eyed the beaked mask you were wearing. You wore the Onychinus uniform, one that was similar to Luke and Kieran’s, in order to hide your identity. For now.

“Is it a man?”

“No, a woman! Look at her body behind the uniform.”

“You think we should let her in?”

“Idiot, she’s from Onychinus! You can’t deny her entrance.”

With a nod, you handed over a small token—your entry pass to the underground fight club that operated in the depths of an abandoned warehouse. “Fellas, I have a pass if you need it.”

The guards stepped aside, finally allowing you entry after you showed a token that was marked by the Onychinus insignia. And as you descended the dimly lit staircase, the roar of the crowd and the unmistakable sound of fists meeting flesh grew louder. The anticipation began to thrum in your veins.

You weren’t entirely sure why you were here, but you knew you needed information on Sylus. Anywhere. And what better way to hear about him than to visit a place where his presence often loomed large? Maybe you could even take out your frustrations in the ring tonight. With every punch and kick, you would remind yourself of the path you had chosen—a path leading to Sylus’s downfall, no matter the cost.

As you stepped into the arena, an irregular thumping in your heart began to destabilize you. You forced yourself to focus, squeezing between people loudly cheering for the current match, screaming their biases, and trash-talking the opponents. Clusters of people gathered around the ring and placed their bets on their favorite fighters. How nostalgic, you mused. You used to come here with Sylus on Friday nights. And turned the rest of those active nights into passionate ones.

Now’s not the time to reminisce. Your chest was starting to feel tighter, unsure if it was because of the crowd or the uncomfortable thought of being back in the N109 Zone. But the more time you spent inside the fight club, the more your heart felt like it was being squeezed. You had to make a move now before it was too late.

The fight club continued to throb with a visceral energy, and you stood in the shadows, the hood of your cloak still pulled low to hide the overwhelming pressure you were feeling inside your body. You managed to weave through the people, while your ears were attuned to the murmur of conversations in hopes of catching intel on Sylus.

That was, until a group of grizzled men to your left caught your attention, and their voices were rising above the din.

“I’ve got five hundred credits on the big guy,” one of them boasted, slapping a hefty stack of bills into the hand of a bookie.

“You’re gonna lose,” another jeered. “That scrawny kid’s faster. I bet he’ll surprise everyone.”

You lingered nearby, pretending to adjust your hoodie while listening intently to their conversation.

“Hey, did you hear about Sylus?” one man whispered, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial murmur.

Your pulse quickened at the mention of his name, and you took a step closer, careful not to draw attention.

“Yeah. He hasn’t been seen in weeks, ain’t he? Word is, he’s gone underground. Something big must’ve gone down.”

“Big? That’s an understatement. They say someone ratted him out to the Hunter’s Association that’s why his base got raided. He’s also got a bounty on his head now, and not just any bounty—a serious one. Every hunter and merc in the zone's looking for him.”

“What about the hot chick he’s been seen with? You think she’s involved?”

“Dunno,” the first man whispered. “But if she’s smart, she’ll lay low. Sylus doesn’t take kindly to betrayal, and neither do his people.”

You bit your lip as the urge to ask questions was getting heavy. But you knew better. Drawing attention to yourself now could be disastrous. So, you had to think of how to navigate this situation first. The fight in the ring reached a fever pitch, and the crowd’s roar swelled. Perhaps joining today’s fight might not be a good idea after all, and instead, you should harness your remaining energy into preparing for the time you would have to face Onychinus again.

Sylus was in hiding, the hunter girl had been isolated, and you had made yourself a target.

It was for the best that you stormed out of the fight club, helmet on, speeding away on a motorcycle you had rented. Riding in the N109 zone was always a thrilling escape, and it now became your dangerous distraction from the turbulent thoughts that plagued your mind. Sylus. Sylus. Sylus. Where did he hide?

In your trail of thoughts, you revved the engine, and its roar echoed along the stretch of dark roads as you maneuvered your bike towards the highway.

There was no other vehicle around you.

Until a truck appeared.

Not just any truck—it was a supertruck, with its headlights blazing and tailing you like a predator.

The lights tried to blind you, but you took off, and the world around you instantly became a blur of speed and sound. You leaned into the bike, feeling the wind whip against your face as you cornered into the nearest exit. But no matter how fast you went, you couldn’t outrun such a large, fast-moving vehicle. You knew that if you didn’t accelerate into sixth gear or until you hit the rev limiter, you would be dead.

He’s fucking out for me!

Lost in thought, your eyes focused too much on looking back and forth between the road and the stealth mirrors before you got rear-ended by the truck. The impact was jarring, and it sent you flying off your bike and crashing onto the hard, cold ground. Upon impact alone, pain immediately exploded in your body. And the burning, stinging sensation was brought upon by the road rash you obtained after you skidded along the rough concrete road. It was intense pain—like a thousand searing needles piercing every inch of your skin. Your flesh felt as if it were being flayed by red-hot knives, each scrape and cut screaming with a fire that seemed unquenchable. The raw, exposed nerves throbbed violently, sending electric shocks of pain through your entire body, and making every heartbeat feel like a hammer blow.

Aghh! It was a relentless, burning torment, and the slightest movement amplified the suffering, every breath dragging razors through your shredded skin. But you refused to cry out, refusing to give the culprit the satisfaction. Was it Sylus?

As much as you wanted to lift your helmet and find the culprit, the shock from the crash was an all-consuming inferno of agony, the kind that made the world blur and darken at the edges, and eventually pulled you into a black abyss of unconsciousness.

The last thing you remembered was being carried in the arms of a man.

“Think she’s in a coma?”

Voices filtered through your ears, distant yet distinct. Familiar, mischievous voices that sent a shiver down your spine. You could barely open your eyes, your fingers twitching as you slowly regained consciousness.

“Maybe.” That was Luke’s voice. “Or maybe she’s just pretending. Wouldn’t put it past her after she spied on us for years.”

“Yeah, she’s good at that,” Kieran egged on. “Always scheming, always one step ahead. And she’s tougher than she looks! Surviving that crash?”

“But not invincible.”

Their exchange suddenly took a halt, replaced by a discomfiting silence that made you wish you could force your eyes open in a mere count to ten. You tried to move, to make a sound, to let them know you were not in a coma, that you could hear every word. But your body remained stubbornly still, as if pressed down by an unseen weight.

“You think boss-man will forgive her?” It was Kieran who asked, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.

Luke snorted. “Forgive? She’s a traitor. If she wakes up, she’s a dead woman walking.”

No! Upon realizing that this wasn’t a dream or a figment of your imagination, the beat of your heart began to accelerate, vibrating loud and aggressive against your chest. The sound of the twins’ footsteps eventually faded, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence of your half-conscious state. Fear and regret coiled within you, but there was also a flicker of determination.

That if you wake up—when you wake up—you would have to face Sylus. And you would have to find a way to survive.

Time lost its meaning as you floated between wakefulness and sleep. A minute, an hour, days must have gone by. Eventually, you could hear classical music being played in the background and became aware of a new presence in the room, then a weight on the edge of your bed. That familiar cardamom and leather scent. A hand soon brushed your forehead, cool and gentle. Sylus? You wanted to open your eyes, to see him, to speak, but your body refused to obey.

“You can’t hide from me forever,” his voice murmured. His breath was warm when you felt it on your ear. “Wake up, kitten. We have unfinished business.”

Darkness tugged at you again, pulling you under, but not before the fear took root. The weight on your chest suddenly lifted, as if an invisible force released its hold on you. Your eyes then snapped open and your lungs burned as you dragged in deep, desperate gulps of air.

“Where—” You struggled to sit up with your weak body trembling from days of enforced stillness. Every movement felt foreign, muscles protesting as you pushed yourself upright. The room spinned for a moment before your vision cleared, and you saw him.

“Awake?” Sylus stood at your side, his crimson eyes burning with fire as he looked down on you like a master to his subject.

“What… what did you do to me?” you manage to ask even though your voice was hoarse. “It was y-you in that truck!”

“Oh, honey. I don’t ride in cheap trucks. Besides, I saved you from that crash,” Sylus replied, almost nonchalantly. “A ‘thank you’ would be nice. And also a ‘long time no see’, don’t you think?”

If it wasn’t him on that truck, then… “It’s still a hitman you hired because of that bounty!”

Sylus didn’t change. His silky gray hair, his vivid carmine eyes, his pinkish thin lips. Whenever he smirked, it was still the handsome old him. “I won’t deny that, sweetie. But I had to kill the guy for doing a poor job. My instructions were to not get you badly injured, and only to scare you.”

“Liar,” you spat, “I bet you’d be happier if I was incapacitated.”

“Please. You’d serve no good to me if you’re dead or permanently disabled.” Sylus reached down to pull the duvet away from your body, and your supposed road rash and injuries were seemingly gone, replaced by newly-healed scars. “Your body needed time to recover, and I couldn’t afford to lose you. Not yet. So I had to put you in an induced state.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. How he did it, you had no idea, but with Sylus, anything was possible. Anything! After all, he had all the connections and the rarest protocores.

“Three days,” he continued, stepping closer, his gaze never leaving your face as he lifted your chin with his finger. “I kept you under for three days. Enough time for your wounds to heal. You recognize where you are?”

When he trailed off, you looked around the room and realized you weren’t in the Onychinus base nor his presidential suite. It was one of his many residences—the underground shelter.

“Why are we here?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your efforts to sound strong.

Sylus extended a hand once more, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was surprisingly gentle, but his eyes remained hard, unreadable. “Ask that to yourself, kitten,” he says quietly. “We’re here because an ungrateful stray cat decided to leak the location of my other residences.”

You swallowed hard when you felt him grab you by the neck, his tight grip restraining any air from entering your windpipe. “S-Sylus!”

His eyes had unruly flames beneath them. “You were a spy?”

As his grip loosened a little to let you speak, you still ended up choking from asphyxiation. “S-So what if I was?” You tried to push him off. “It only means I caught you lacking. You allowed me to infiltrate Onychinus without knowing my background.”

Sylus’s hand trailed gently over your cheek, his touch lingering longer than necessary. “I’d blame it on your cunning face,” he said, almost seductively. He then shifted to lower himself onto the bed, both knees on either side of you, pinning you down. His eyes locked onto yours with a dark, predatory gleam. “Any man is a willing fool to a pretty face and a sexy body.”

You swatted his hand in response, your back hitting the headboard as you scrambled for distance. “How many times have you recycled that line between me and that hunter girl with the Aether Core?”

At the mention of her, Sylus’s deep chuckle erupted and reverberated through the dark room. It was a chilling sound that was full of twisted amusement. “Ah, I almost forgot about the root of your betrayal,” he remarked with a mocking grin. “Jealousy.”

“You wouldn’t be laughing if I had killed her,” you spat, struggling to break free as Sylus slammed you back onto the bed. “Let me go—!” It was a fierce contest of strength, with you pinned beneath him, and him on top of you in an undeniable display of dominance. But you fought back. You resisted. And in an effort to offend, you ejected spit onto his cheek. “Let go!”

Sylus was caught off guard, but he stayed unfazed, wiping your spit from his cheek before gripping your neck again. “You really want to play this game, honey? I love how sick in the head you are.”

“You m-made me like this.” You choked in between words. “In the end, I still achieved my goal. Now you have no way to see or contact that girl.”

“Says who?” Sylus’s sarcastic tone made your heart sink. Is he still in touch with her?!

“What do you—”

“Don’t be dense, kitten.” Sylus soon grabbed you by the collar, handling you like a ragdoll as he threw you onto the floor with a resounding thud. Pain shot through your hip, but Sylus’s expression held no remorse. You knew he could do worse. “I have my own ways of ensuring she’s safe and protected. I can still see her whenever I want.”

That was when the tears started to fall uncontrollably. You couldn’t stop them—nor could you hold back the words that poured out. “Y-You! I ran away from the N109 Zone for a whole year. I disappeared from your life for a whole goddamn year, Sylus. Yet not once did you look for me, not once did you worry about me, not once did you make sure I was safe. But for her, you—”

“It’s only natural to protect someone important to you.” He crouched down to meet your eyes as if pouring salt to the wound. “I’d let the world burn for her, honey. You and her aren’t the same. She’s not someone who would betray me.”

“I betrayed you because of her!”

His laughter died down, but the amusement in his eyes only deepened. The cruel curve of his lips was the kind of smile that enjoyed seeing your agony. “It’s always been about her, hasn’t it? You see me with her, and you can’t stand it. It eats at you, makes you act out.”

You tried to move away, but he kept his foot firmly on your wrist, stepping on your hand was his constant reminder of your powerlessness. The distance between you was a stark symbol of how he saw you—a mere object of disdain.

“I’ve seen your struggle,” he continued, his voice soft but laced with wicked satisfaction. “The way you watched me with her, the way it gnaws at you. It’s almost poetic, really.”

In a moment of desperation, you snatched the nearest weapon from his nightstand while tears blurred your vision. It hurt. His words, his treatment, and the stark difference in how he treated her compared to you were too much. You should have ended this long ago before he had the chance to wreck you all over again.

And so, with a gun in your hand, you cocked and raised it.

But instead of pointing it towards Sylus, you surprised him by pointing it to yourself.

The gun’s nozzle was pressed against your temple, your finger inching toward the trigger.

“...All I wanted was your love,” you choked out with tears cascading down your face, flowing out like an endless waterfall, “I j-just wanted you to love me. I turned my back on the H.A. for you. I left all my friends and family for you.” Your breathing was still for a moment. “Now I don’t have anyone left.” Pausing, you locked eyes with his crimson ones. You didn’t want him to be the one to kill you, because the thought alone was fatal. “All I had was you. I loved you. I devoted all my body and soul into loving you, Sylus. Why c-can’t I have even a little bit in return?”

Even as his gaze softened, as a flicker of regret crossed his features, you already drove your finger to pull the trigger. The recoil immediately jolted through your wrist, but before the bullet could find its mark and penetrate your skull, Sylus’s hand shot out and expertly deflected your aim. So instead of blowing your brains out, the bullet ricocheted off the now-shattered window.

“Are you out of your mind?!” Sylus roared, his orotund voice an amalgam of anger and disbelief.

Tears blurred your vision, but you were still able to look at his bright red eyes as he cupped your cheeks. Your entire body shook hysterically for someone who had just almost ended her own life. This is what he wanted, right? You asked yourself over and over, but couldn’t find the energy to respond to his calls for your name.

“Y/N,” Sylus agitatedly tried to shake you, “Y/N! Enough. Let’s end this game.”

You stared at his face blankly as reality flickered and faded, like an old film reel skipping frames. “I was never playing one with you.”

Sylus was suddenly a different person in front of you. “I warned you many times before to never fall in love with me. It’s for the best, and it’s what will keep you safe,” he spoke in a low yet softened tone, “Why don’t you listen?”

The tension in the room was suffocating, and each second dragged into eternity. Sylus’s question remained unanswered until the loud burst of the door shattered the silence. You flinched, heart pounding, as you saw the very subject of your heartbreak.

The hunter girl stormed in, eyes wild in fear. “Sylus! Are you okay? I heard a gunshot—” she cried out, scanning the room frantically until her gaze landed on the two of you. She then froze, taking in the sight of you and Sylus on the floor, the gun lying ominously near your hand. Putting two-and-two together probably made her think that you tried to kill the man in front of you. “Sylus, step back!”

“Wait!”

Without hesitation, she aimed her gun squarely at you. But right before you could react, the gun was fired. And the shattering sound of another gunshot echoed in the room.

Time seemed to slow as you fell, the world spinning around you when you felt a sudden, searing pain on your head. Sylus’s eyes widened in shock, his hand reaching out just in time to catch you before your head hit the floor.

“No!” Sylus’s voice was raw, hysterical, filled with a pain you’d never heard from him before as he cradled your head gently—his face a mask of both horror and disbelief when your blood pooled on his arms. “Y/N, no! Fuck, what did you do?!”

You struggled to focus, your vision blurring as darkness encroached. Sylus’s eyes were strangely wet with tears, desperation etched into every line of his sharp features. The Sylus you knew wouldn’t cry over someone unimportant to him. So, why…?

You tried to speak, but the effort was monumental.

Who knew that your life would end at the hands of another woman?

Yet, it was the karma you deserved for your wrongdoings.

“I... love... you,” you whispered to Sylus, nonetheless. Each word was a struggle, and your breath hitched as you forced them out, but you had to let him know. For the last time.

You saw the pain in his eyes deepen, and for a moment, you felt a flicker of something close to peace. That was when Sylus’s grip tightened, his tears falling onto your face as he held you close. “Y/N, please,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Don’t leave. I can’t let this happen!”

He must have noticed how your eyes were glassy and unfocused, staring off into the distance without really seeing anything. Pure numbness was you would best describe it. And as your life slipped away, you felt a strange sense of relief.

In the battle of hearts, he was the conqueror, and you, the conquered. His love was a war you couldn’t win, and your loss, a defeat you couldn’t bear. For in his eyes, you saw both your greatest triumph and your deepest fall, where the lines between the victor and the vanquished blurred into the shadows of a bittersweet end.

But at least, you had said what mattered most, and that in your final moments, you were held by the one person you loved. The rightful owner of your heart. The conqueror of your soul. It was him, Sylus Qin, and no one else.

— 1 YEAR AFTER.

“Two black coffees, three espressos, and a caramel macchiato, extra caramel!” A peculiar guy placed orders one after another, followed by his twin’s mischievous laughter.

You turned to face them, offering a polite smile even though you were worried deep inside if they were just pulling a prank. They were regulars, always coming in with their complicated orders and playful banter. Yet, something about them seemed oddly familiar, and they always gave you a nagging sensation you couldn’t quite place.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the small café you were working at in the Bloomshore District. You were standing behind the counter while the rush of customers was relentless. You barely even had a moment to catch your breath today, and here came the twins creating yet another one of their complicated orders.

“Coming right up,” was your monotonous reply, your hands deftly moving to prepare their drinks. But as you worked, the twins exchanged amused glances, their eyes flicking over you with a mix of curiosity and disappointment.

“Actually, can I make a small change to that?” the other twin interjected with a grin.

You sighed inwardly but kept your smile. “Sure, what would you like?”

“Okay, so for the black coffee, can you add a splash of almond milk, two pumps of hazelnut syrup, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top?” one of the twins began. “For the espressos, I need one with a shot of vanilla, one with a shot of caramel, and the last one with a double shot of mint. And for the caramel macchiato, make sure it's extra caramel, but can you also add a dash of sea salt and a drizzle of dark chocolate on top?”

Gosh. They were menaces.

“Do you think you can remember our orders?” the other twin remarked, leaning on the counter. “Because you don’t seem to remember our names.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “We have lots of customers everyday. I’m not really good with names.”

When the bell above the door chimed, your attention was immediately drawn to the towering man with ash gray hair and bright crimson eyes. His presence was commanding even in the relaxed atmosphere of the café; he carried such a dominant aura that even the twins backed off from pestering you the moment he entered the coffee shop.

“Good evening, Mr. Skye,” you greeted, your tone warming at the sight of him. The man had become a regular fixture in your life. Every day, like clockwork, he came in for his coffee, and every day, he lingered just a bit longer, watching you with eyes that seemed to see more than you could comprehend.

He nodded, his eyes staying on you while he was pointing towards the twins. “Are they bothering you?”

You were under the impression that the twins worked for Mr. Skye, but the type of relationship they had with their boss was none of your business. That was why although the twins could get really annoying as customers, especially when they tend to change their orders a lot, you still didn’t want them to get in trouble over something as little as that.

“No, they’re fine,” you answered with a smile. “Are you going to get the usual today, Mr. Skye?”

“Yes, please.” The tall man studied your face with a focused gaze—it was as though he was trying to read your mind, trying to interpret the emotions on your face, as he looked at you intently. He always did this. Every single day he came in, even from afar, you had grown accustomed to his watchful gaze. Yet even with the awkwardness it brought, he also knew how to keep his distance. He always treated you with respect and was always the first person to come to your aid when things did get unruly in the cafe. Broken coffee machine, spilled coffee, entitled customers. Name it, and he was always present to help around.

It was strange. Really, really strange. And what’s even stranger was that, every time he looked at you, the tenderness in his eyes that often opposed the fiery red color of his irises. Perhaps, you really couldn’t judge a book by its cover.

As you wrote his name on the plastic cup, you heard him suddenly clear his throat. “Miss Y/N, forgive me. I couldn’t help but notice that scar,” he said with a poignant stare, gesturing towards your temple. “Quite a story behind that, I imagine?”

Your hand instinctively touched the faint scar, a puzzled look crossing your face. You had always been insecure about the scar on your temple, because not only was it unattractive, it was also extremely visible. Not even a laser treatment could help clear it out.

“Oh, uh… I’m not really sure how I got it,” you admitted, searching through your mind’s archive to no avail. “I was told it was while I was fighting off wanderers. I don’t remember much from that time because I’ve since retired from the Hunter’s Association.”

His eyes darkened for a moment, as if his heart dropped from a memory he had recalled, but he quickly masked his expression. “So, you’re a hunter?”

You shrugged. “Well, yeah. But it’s all in the past now.”

Mr. Skye stood there waiting for his order with an unreadable expression on his face. And you wondered why he looked heartbroken while lost in deep thought. Was he having a bad day? Going through a break-up? You weren’t nosey enough to ask. Eventually, his order was done and he took the cup, his fingers brushing against yours briefly.

“Sometimes the past has a way of catching up to us.” His deep voice was smooth and soft when he spoke again. “But perhaps it’s best to focus on the present.”

You smiled, feeling a strange comfort in his words. “That’s what I’m trying to do.”

He hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Would you like to… have dinner with me sometime? I’d love to get to know you better.”

You blinked, surprised by the sudden invitation. A date?! You couldn’t remember the last time you were even in love. All you could recall was having a silly childhood crush on your neighbor, but then again, that was more than a decade ago. You knew nothing about dating at your age and it was ridiculous. But there was something about Mr. Skye, a familiarity you couldn’t ignore, and that rejecting his offer seemed wrong in your head.

Besides, you couldn’t deny how extremely handsome he was.

“Um, sure… Mr. Skye.”

“Perfect,” he said with a small smile, his gaze softening into one of genuine joy. “Tomorrow evening, then?”

Before you could agree on a schedule, the sudden flash of lightning illuminated the interior for a brief moment. Then, the subsequent crash of thunder made you jump, following the sound of rain pounding against the windows that filled the small space. Oh, boy.

“Ugh. How am I going to get home in this weather?” you muttered to yourself.

Mr. Skye, who had been quietly watching you from his spot, gave you an offer. “Need a ride?” he asked, his voice gentle but carrying a note of urgency. “It’s too dangerous to walk or wait for a cab in this storm.”

You hesitated for a moment. “I’d really appreciate that, Mr. Skye. But what about your,” you pointed towards the oblivious twins who were sitting on the corner, “minions?”

Your chosen term elicited a deep chuckle from the man. “Don’t mind them. They know their way back home.”

“But boss!”

“Boss, you said you’ll let me drive the sportscar tonight!”

“I’ll wait for you until your shift ends,” Mr. Skye ignored the duo and responded to you with an endearing smile. “No rush.”

It didn’t take long until you locked up the shop, but you did feel bad that Mr. Skye had to stay with you until ten in the evening when he could have already gone home. In fact, he had been acting strange. Acting too familiar with you. Did he already know you prior to your small interactions in the cafe for the past few weeks?

He held the door open for you as soon as you secured the shop, and together you ran through the torrential rain to his black sportscar. You were already aware that he was a wealthy man, and yet, you always wondered why he preferred a small, laid-back cafe in the Bloomshore Distrct rather than the lavish ones in Azure Square or even Universum. Was it to see you all along?

Jeez, you had so many unanswered questions in your head. Yet, you were also afraid to address the elephant in the room because you believed in the saying that ignorance is bliss. So in the end, the drive was quiet, the only sounds being the rhythm of the rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. Mr. Skye didn’t speak a word and nor did you.

Once you reached your apartment, he quickly rushed out of the car and headed to open your door. He even used his jacket as a makeshift umbrella, covering you from the heavy rainfall. It was almost funny, really, how his face screamed of danger but he was actually quite a gentleman.

In return, you had to invite him in out of courtesy. “Would you like to come in for a while? It’s still pouring out there.”

He accepted your offer with a nod, and followed you like a tail inside. “Do you usually invite other people, too?”

“Sometimes,” you casually answered while the both of you walked through the empty corridors. “Why?”

“You aren’t talking about male colleagues, right?” he asked, seemingly taking a deep breath.

That wasn’t any of his concern, obviously. But the drive to test his emotions was strong. “Sometimes,” you said, finally reaching your door and unlocking it with your fingerprint. “Welcome to my home.”

The warmth of your apartment was a stark contrast to the cold storm outside, and you felt a little conscious of your small living space knowing that he probably lived in a luxurious presidential suite. It didn’t help that he started looking around your place, as if studying the smallest details of every corner for a reason you couldn’t quite tell. You weren’t sure if he was simply silently judging the aesthetics of your home, but you were beginning to feel uncomfortable as you placed his coat on the rack, watching the way he stopped to look at your photo on the wall.

It was like he felt a pang of sorrow.

“You’ve really erased me completely, kitten,” he quietly whispered.

You turned to him, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe that’s for the better,” he replied, but his expression betrayed him. It was clear that he was holding back a flood of emotions.

Your heart started to race, pounding at a rhythm that you had never experienced before. And just then, you could see how tears welled up in his eyes. Tears that he concealed by leaning in to capture your lips in a desperate kiss. His hands cupped your face, and you could feel the intensity of his suppressed feelings that seemed to transcend the confines of your apartment. The yearning. The longingness. Perhaps, it was even sprinkled with feelings of regret.

“Mr. Skye, wait—!” You pulled away with wide, bewildered eyes, shocked by the fervor of his kiss. No matter how attractive he was, he was still a stranger to you. But then, your breath came in shallow gasps as a sudden, sharp pain began to explode in your head. A throbbing pulse spread from your temples and radiated outwards. It was a stabbing sensation that seemed to slice through your skull, as if a thousand needles were jabbing into your brain. What’s happening?

Mr. Skye’s face appeared above you. “Does it hurt?” he asked softly, his voice laced with a mix of worry and something deeper. He was whispering something about a protocore in your head, but you could barely understand a word, not when the ache in your temple was overcoming you entirely.

You were unable to form words, clutching your head with both hands in hopes of stopping the ache for even a little. But the pain was overwhelming. Too overwhelming for you to handle, and it came to a point where tears of pain began streaming down your face.

“I… I don’t know what’s happening,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling.

He gently guided you on the couch, his touch careful and soothing. “Just breathe,” he murmured, offering a comforting presence like buoy in an open sea. “It’s my fault, kitten. I shouldn’t have kissed you so suddenly.” The intensity of the moment had shifted because of how tender his touch was. “You’re safe here,” he gently whispered into your ear. “Let the pain pass. I’ll be here with you.”

As the pain began to subside, you could feel the storm in your head gradually receding. And in his presence, you felt a strange mix of comfort and unease.

Studies say that a kiss can help calm someone’s nerves. You weren’t sure where that research was based on, but it was your body who allowed itself to seek it from the man in front of you. While your mind was telling you no, your heart was urging you to grab his shirt and pull him, once again, to a passionate kiss.

The kiss deepened naturally, and you found yourself responding to his need as the pull between you became irresistible. You were like a magnet to him—the force of attraction getting stronger and stronger the closer you were. Where was it coming from? How come you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame?

And while you were engaged in a tight lip-locking moment, you both ended up walking towards your bedroom; stumbling towards the bed, hands exploring, hearts racing. Soon, you were lost in each other, and the world outside was forgotten.

With both your clothes discarded on the floor, and with your steamy exchange continuing throughout the night, you found yourself eventually straddling him, moving your body to meet him with a gentle thrust. Every sway of your hips made his member hit you at your sweet spot, instantly sending a wave of pleasure within your body.

“S-Sir—”

“Sylus,” he breathed into your ear, hands tracing your curve, “Call me Sylus, kitten.”

Sylus. Sylus. The name sounded familiar yet foreign at the same time, but you were too sensually intoxicated to think about the history behind his name. All you could selfishly focus on at the moment was reaching your high. You were losing your mind over the euphoric sensation of having an intercourse with such a man who, not only was attractive on the face, but also on the body.

Sylus was packed. His muscles were toned from a seemingly consistent active lifestyle and intense workout routines. It felt great when you ran your hands along his broad shoulders, down to his toned chest, and further down to his perfectly sculpted abs.

“Mmh—!” A moan escaped your lips when you felt his shaft going deeper inside. “That’s…”

‘Good?” he whispered to your lips, encasing yours with his before he trailed his soft kisses around your neck. Each kiss definitely left a purple mark on your skin with the way he was suckling and nibbling on the flesh.

God, he was huge, too. His member completely filled you, stretched you even, as his cocktip kissed your cervix in a single thrust. He was crazy good at knowing all your sensitive places, holding your hips down so he could start pounding you upwards. Your tits began to bounce wildly and you even had to hold onto the headboard for support, because he was starting to go deeper and faster inside you.

“Ngh!”

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed this,” he said in between shaky breaths before latching his mouth into your right tit. He devoured your breast like a meal, playing with the nipple with the precise movements of his tongue. It was so good. Crazy good. It made you wonder how he seemed hyper-aware of the things you liked in bed. But how would that be possible when this was your first time having sex with him?

Sylus decided to shift the control by flipping you over, and hoisting your hips so he could lower his head down to your lady part. Your eyes almost rolled back when he spread your labia apart so he could lick your inner folds and taste every corner of your slick-coated cavern.

“S-Sylus,” you whined as his tongue rapidly moved in and out of your entrance until drool oozed down on your cunt. His eyes fluttered as he pulled his face away, soon palming your wet vulva with slow strokes. “Mmh…”

He eyed you with a tender gaze. “You’re so beautiful to me.”

It was certainly odd that his compliment seemed to touch your heart deeper than intended—that if you weren’t doing sexual activities right now, your heart would have been fluttering from his sweetness, especially when he met your lips again with a soft, loving kiss.

This time, he didn’t pull away. He didn’t detach his lips from yours, even as he was penetrating you with his cock again. With a single thrust, you were mewling into his mouth. His girthy member gave you a heavenly stretch that seemed to awaken the lustful demon inside of you.

Even Sylus was cussing under his breath as he continued to slam his entire length in, soon increasing the speed of his penetration to a pace that made him reach his peak. At this point, the coil in your lower abdomen was beginning to intensify, and you were clamping around his cock as if your walls weren’t tight enough to make him release a series of guttural moans.

“Are you near?” With a quick suction on your left breast, his own moans left his lips along with the loud squelching noises that filled the room. “‘Cause I am.”

Coincidentally, you were just arching your back because of how near you were, too. With screams getting louder, gasps causing your mouths to part open, and two people connected into a single body—you disintegrated under him as your lower abdomen signaled your orgasm and your toes started curling. “Ngh—Haah! Aah!”

“Hold on for me, kitten.” Sylus pounded into you through your overstimulation, picking up the pace until spurts of seed were sent straight to your womb. His movements became sloppy and uneven, pulling out of you only to see his semen seeping out of your pussy.

You couldn’t believe it. You couldn’t fucking believe you just hooked up with a stranger.

But was he really one? Because your heart was telling you one thing, but your mind was telling you another. You didn’t know who to trust and listen to.

After your passionate session, the room was filled with the sound of your breaths mingling. Sylus, still holding you close, leaned in to plant a soft kiss on your cheek, whispering, “How’s it?”

Curiosity got the better of you, and you asked the very question that had been plaguing your mind, “Sylus, please be honest with me,” you paused, “Did you know me before?”

He was silent.

But you continued, “What was our relationship?”

Sylus looked like he was contemplating his answer, his gaze distant. His eyes seemed to have found your ceiling interesting as he thought deeply, drawing in a deep breath, and gently caressing your arm. If you didn’t know better, you swore you could see the sorrow and resignation in his eyes—the somberness he tried to hide with a smile.

“Let’s just say I’m a fool who was in love with you for years, but you never reciprocated my love.”

“How so?” you asked, turning to face him. You absorbed his words while the pain of his unrequited love intersected with your own confusion. His answer didn’t quite feel right, but if he was truly your lover, then you knew there was a level of trust you should be placing on him. “Why do I get the feeling that I was the one who experienced a one-sided love before?”

“No, you were loved. You were very loved. There was no one else,” he continued, lachrymose eyes staring back at you as he stroked your hair, “I was the one who wasn’t worthy of you… But I’d like to try and win your heart again this time. If you allow it.”

Sylus’s eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the facade of the composed, enigmatic man you had come to know seemed to crack.

The vulnerability in his voice resonated with you, and you reached up to touch his face gently. “Sylus… I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry for not recognizing you before. I just… I lost a chunk of my memories, and I don’t know if it’s been altered or what, but…” Realizing that you were rambling, you took a deep breath. “I’ll try to remember, okay?”

“Please don’t.” He shook his head, a rueful smile playing on his lips while thinking of the past that was rightfully erased. “And there’s no need for apologies, sweetie. There wasn’t anything you did wrong.”

As the rain continued its gentle patter against the window, you both settled into the quiet of the room until he pressed his lips onto yours once more.

Sylus’s touch was tender as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face. “You should know,” he said quietly and earnestly, “that this time, I’ll only have eyes for you.”

FINAL PART

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus angst #sylus smut #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lads x you #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #lds x reader #lds x you #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #love & deepsace x reader

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doumadono · 16 days

Text

Warnings: smut w/o plot, first time, creampie, unprotected p in v

A/N: during his first time with you, Bakugo is caught off guard by the expression you make

MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t used to feeling uncertain, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. In fact, he hated it. Confidence was a part of him, woven into every fiber of his being, but tonight, as he hovered over you, his cock buried within the warmth and slickness of your tight pussy, his heart racing in tandem with yours, doubt had snuck in like an unwelcome visitor. Fearless and brimming with confidence, the young pro hero who could take on nearly any opponent without breaking a sweat now found himself in uncharted territory.

Bakugo had never been this close to someone before. Sure, he'd been in countless fights, bodies colliding in the heat of battle, his skin pressed against opponents in the chaos of combat. But this? This was different - this was intimacy on a level he'd never known. It was raw, vulnerable, and new. His heart pounded, not from adrenaline, but from the weight of the moment. It was his first time, and thankfully, it was with the person he cared for the most, the one he loved with every fiber of his being - Y/N.

You were warm and soft beneath him, your skin flushed and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat as he moved against you with a mix of urgency and care. His breath was ragged, heavy, and every touch of his fingers against your skin seemed to ignite a trail of fire that left you gasping for more. His hands roamed your body, firm but gentle, as if memorizing every curve, every inch of you.

His lips brushed your neck, tracing the delicate skin there as you arched into him, your body responding instinctively to every subtle shift in his thrusts. His name escaped your lips, breathless and soft, and the sound of it seemed to fuel him further.

Wet, sloshing sounds filled the room. You were hot down there, your pussy now a frothy heaven for Bakugo’s cock. His dick bumped and rubbed against your insides, reaching places that made you whimper and your lips tremble.

Katsuki picked up the pace, and you grabbed his ass and hooked your heels over the back of his massive thighs. His hands, usually rough and calloused, were tentative now, roaming across your hips and thighs with an almost unfamiliar gentleness. "Is this good?" he asked, his usual gruff tone softened by a vulnerability he wasn't used to.

You could only nod, a soft moan escaping your lips as his lips found your neck, teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your entire body shiver. You were already lost in the sensation, but Bakugo was hyper-aware of everything - of how your body moved beneath him, of the rise and fall of your chest, and especially the way your face started to change as the pleasure built between you. His cock was thick, and you moaned whenever your pussy stretched further, trying desperately to accommodate him fully.

Bakugo was cautious, almost too much so, taking his time with every touch, every caress. The weight of his inexperience pressed heavily on his shoulders. He sped up as the warm lick of your sweet pussy wet his crown, and your spongy walls hugged his reddened glans in a velvet blanket of softness. Bakugo moved faster, a little harder with every thrust.

You smiled up at him, your breath hitching slightly as his rough fingers slid over your skin. “Just like that, Katsuki, fuck me harder,” you begged, rolling head backwards, resting it on his pillow.

His sharp, crimson eyes studied you, searching for any sign of discomfort. He was fiercely protective, always wanting to do things perfectly, even if it was something as foreign to him as this. He moved with a cautious eagerness, his normally confident demeanor tempered by the weight of wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting you while his rock-hard cock was penetrating your slick vagina.

But then it happened. As he pressed forward, his hips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate rhythm, he noticed something - your face.

It started to shift, contorting into something unfamiliar. Your lips parted, eyes fluttering closed as a moan escaped you, but it wasn’t the sound that made him freeze.

“Wait - wait, what’s wrong?” Katsuki suddenly stopped, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled back just slightly, the tip of his cock still in your sweet pussy, his heart thudding in his chest.

You opened your eyes, half-lidded and dazed, looking up at him with a dreamy, confused expression. “What?” you breathed, your voice thick with desire. “Why did you stop, Katsy?”

He blinked, completely thrown off by your reaction. “Your face…” His brows furrowed deeply, voice dropping lower in hesitation. “You looked like you were in pain.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing what he said. Then, much to his bewilderment, a soft chuckle escaped your lips, your head tipping back onto the pillow. “Katsuki… I wasn’t in pain,” you assured him, still smiling up at him. “I was- " You hesitated, eyes sparkling with amusement. " -just really close.”

He blinked, clearly confused. “Close to what?”

You bit your lip, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Close to cumming.”

Bakugo's cheeks flushed a deep shade of red. His grip on your hips loosened, and for a moment, the cocky hero was at a loss for words. “Tch!”

You laughed softly, leaning up to kiss him gently, your lips brushing against his in a way that made his heart race. “You’re doing great, Katsuki. You’re not hurting me. You’re making me feel really, really good.”

Bakugo’s face flushed a deep crimson, his mind racing as he stared at you. “I think I found your sweet spot.”

“Yeah,” you interrupted with a grin, reaching up to brush a strand of his blond hair from his forehead. “I was about to come, and you apparently hit my gspot.”

His eyes widened, mortification flickering across his face. “Shit…” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair in frustration. “I thought I hurt you or something.”

You shook your head, your hand finding his again, giving it a gentle squeeze. “No, Katsuki. You were perfect.” You couldn't help but smile softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “It’s my o-face.”

His brows knitted together in confusion. “What the hell is an o-face?”

You laughed softly, your fingers trailing down his arm as you explained. “It’s the face people make when they’re close to orgasm. It’s completely normal, trust me.”

Bakugo stared at you for a long moment, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing as your words sunk in. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you reassured him with a gentle kiss on his lips. “You didn’t hurt me. You’re just making me feel so good. Like I would be on cloud nine.”

His face flushed again, but this time with a mixture of pride and embarrassment. “Tch! Should’ve fucking known,” he muttered, trying to play it off, but you could see the relief in his eyes.

He had never been more unsure of himself. Not in training, not in battle, and certainly not here, in this moment, with you.

That look on your face - the way your eyes had rolled back, the way your mouth hung open, the way your tongue slid out of your mouth and lolled like a slug - it stuck with him. He couldn't shake it.

He watched it carefully this time, his sharp gaze never leaving your face as his rock-hard dick moved inside you, adapting your plush walls to his shape. The way your breath hitched, the way your body arched beneath his touch - it was the same, but something felt off. Your eyes were wider, almost unnaturally so, and your mouth hung open in a way that unnerved him. It wasn’t the same as the night before, and it sent a cold shiver down his spine.

His hands roamed across your body, fingers digging into your flesh just enough to leave a mark. He pressed his hips harder against yours, eliciting a gasp from you as his cock hit just the right spot. He groaned low in his throat, the sound vibrating through your chest as he dipped his head down to bite gently at your neck when your pussy started convulsing all around his dick. “You’re gonna make that face again, ain’t ya?” he muttered against your skin, his voice husky with need.

You nodded, barely able to form coherent words. “Katsuki, please… don’t stop this time…”

That was all the encouragement he needed. His pace quickened, each thrust sending you closer to the edge, and this time, when your face began to contort again - your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open - he didn’t stop. He relished it. He knew now that he was the one driving you to that peak, and the thought of making you feel that good sent a surge of pride and arousal through him. “Fuck…” he muttered under his breath, watching you fall apart beneath him. “You look so hot like that, babe.”

This time, when your face contorted with pleasure, Bakugo didn’t freeze. He kept going, fueled by the knowledge that he wasn’t hurting you, but instead giving you exactly what you needed.

“Katsuki-” you gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as your climax ripped through you. Your body convulsed beneath him, and this time, he didn’t freeze. He kept going, riding out your orgasm as you moaned his name, your voice ragged and breathless.

How own orgasm trembled within him. The pleasure started in his thighs, buzzing up to his tight balls and into his core, then through his shaft. His knob tingled, and his cock swelled, still buried within your dripping pussy. He gasped and fucked you faster, gliding in and out of your soaking wet valley as his body began to shake. Colors and lights soared behind his clenched eyelids.

You bucked your pussy against Bakugo, rolling your hips in a sensuous circle as you flooded your crotches with your wet, sticky cum, moaning his name on and on.

The torrent that streamed through his shaft erupted from his reddened tip in one continuous river, filling your vagina as he trembled above your sweated body, lost in the ecstasy of the moment. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m cumming…”

When you both finally came down from the high, your body trembling with aftershocks, Bakugo slowed his movements, his breathing heavy and labored. He looked down at you, his chest heaving as he smirked, clearly satisfied with the result. “Fuck. I fucking love the face you make when you’re getting off,” he growled, rubbing his nose against yours as he pulled his flaccid cock out of you, satisfied in more ways than one while watching your mixed releases, a pearly, thick liquid, spilling out of your pussy and dripping down on his sheets.

Bakugo grinned, his cocky demeanor returning in full force. “Damn, that’s so fucking hot,” he muttered before rolling to the side, pulling you into his arms. “Next time, just warn me if you’re about to make that face again. I don’t wanna freak out like an idiot.”

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. “I’ll try.

#bakugou smut #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x reader smut #mha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugou #mha smut #bnha smut #bakugo smut #bakugo x reader #anime smut #bakugou x you #bakugo katsuki #divider by cafekitsune #smutty fic

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bnhaobssesed · 16 days

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Thinking about husband!Bakugo and wife!reader

Katsuki always pictured himself as a hero, yes. But when that became a reality, his life had no other purposes than to be the number one hero. Bear with me, he still wanted to be number one. But as he grew older he saw people around him settle and have a compromise between hero life and their private life. And by that I mean building a family. Kirishima was the first one to do so with Mina, soon followed by a lot of his friends. Even Deku at some point. And even if he sometimes loved being 'uncle Kats', he sometimes wishes he could hear that small laugh looking like his, or small eyes sparkling like yours.

For the first time ever, his wishes took another turn. He wanted to be father as much as he wanted to be the number one hero. If not even more.

And even if it took a while to get it off his chest, he wouldn't regret it for one second just to live this moment.

He was coming home after a long day of work, expecting to hear little screams and be met with the vivacity of his house. No, pure silence. It seemed strange to not hear small runnning footsteps towards the entryway and a little excited 'daddy !' coming from the living room.

He got his shoes off and started his investigation on where the people in his house was hidden. He first thought of one of their endless pranks which soon got denied by the sight next to the couch.

You were there, sleeping on the carpet with a little boy in your arms. His son, his first born of now three. And your hand rested on the edge of a rocking crib where his daughter of a little less than five months was sleeping peacefully too. She was sprawled out just like him when he sleeps and beneath her closed eyelids she shared the same red irises as him and her brother.

His son had his head nuzzled in your shoulder, being always so clingy to you in such a vulnerable state. And your cheek was smudged against the top of his spiky looking hair. You were drolling a little, your hair slightly messed up but right now you looked like the most beautiful creature that he got the whance to marry somehow. And that shimmering band on your finger was the proof of it.

He crouched down, carefully putting his gauntlets away. He studied you three for a very long time, never getting sick of it. He had build this... After years of only wanting to be a hero, he had build something greater. Something to go home to, to live for, to not be reckless for, to protect with all his strength. Because when he left in the morning, it was to those smiles and those faces he was fighting to come back to. He gently took out his phone, already filled to the brim with other frozen moments like this... of his family. He took a picture, his smile extending as he heard you mumbling his name in your sleep. He obviously put it as his new lockscreen, a new vision of his motiviation.

He'll bleed and fight for this and make all those streets sure for these three persons right in front of him. He kissed each of your faces carefully before silently going to cook dinner. Not without glancing at the baby photos hanging on the wall on his way out.

They were his copy, a fact you would often complain about. Being the one who "carried them for 9 months and got no credit on the appearence" as you liked to say. But he knew part of you adored to have little versions of him running around. And he was jealous of it, he wanted to have a mini you too running around.

But that would be for another day. Closer than you might know.

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bnha #mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha bakugou #huband bakugo #fluff #family #bnha bakugou

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cheralith · 1 year

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to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, use of she/her pronouns, "mother"/"daughter"/"wife" used, parental death, mentions of child abandonment, not too much mention of him being spider-man

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, hints of pining, just some good ol' fluff for everyone's current favorite dilf, angst w/ comfort, heavy need of editing prob, not beta read

notes ; purely self-indulgent to fuel my love of found family trope apologies

parts: one two three four (tba)

Single Father!Miguel O'Hara whose life revolves essentially around one person—his daughter—but to be one of the heads of America’s largest corporation and bearing the responsibility of keeping Nueva York safe and sound whilst simultaneously being a single father was not exactly something that Miguel O’Hara could juggle so easily. Hell, he’s even surprised that he’s made it so far without losing his absolute sanity considering he couldn’t even recall the last time he was able to rest properly without his attention being wavered to something or someone else.

Single Father!Miguel whose hands always filled to the brim with tasks and obligations. Miguel wished he was able to clone himself twice in order to have three Miguel O’Haras attending to each of his duties soundly, but alas, Alchemax and the matter of his mind can only do so much.

Single Father!Miguel whose ever so lucky to have you as his assistant to at least help with two out of three of them. You entered the picture around three years ago, when he had caught the eye of his superiors and had used his intelligence to their own advantage, disguising it as a promotion of sorts. You were given as some sort of gift to them as a way to help ease his workload and he truly couldn’t be more thankful for your existence—if he doesn’t necessarily show it most of the time from his stoic countenance he masks on 24/7. While not exactly a carbon copy of him, you, by far, come rather close, and Miguel will take whatever comes to him in this day and age.

Single Father!Miguel who notices that you're obedient and demure, though rather soft spoken and a little too apprehensive for his liking at times (he had noticed, before you became his assistant, that your coworkers would shovel their workload onto you and you’d accept with little complaint but evident hesitation; he wonders if it was the given similarities between you and him that made him choose you as his assistant). You dressed well, hung onto every word he said, and spoke out when properly needed. You were a good aid to have around—great, even.

Single Father!Miguel who trusts you as both his assistant and a human being enough to leave his precious daughter in your care knowing full well she would be in good hands. Sometimes Alchemax would work him overtime, sometimes his duties as Spider-Man would interfere. No matter what it was, it delayed him from seeing and attending to his daughter’s needs, and thus, he had asked you once in a while to pick up and babysit his daughter after your usual 9-5.

Single Father!Miguel who, at the beginning, once in a while asked you to pick his daughter up from school. Once in a while turned into occasionally. Occasionally turned into sometimes. Sometimes turned into constantly, and next thing Miguel knew, you were the one that his daughter and teachers would look out for during school pick up time. He didn’t expect that you would become his assistant even outside of work, but you did, and Miguel can’t exactly turn back time now. He’s labeled you as his child’s unofficial secondary caretaker—you’re even listed as an emergency contact.

Single Father!Miguel who thinks you’re too polite for your own good. Miguel had asked you once if this was a burden, being his assistant both in and out of Alchemax, and if it became too much that you were more than free to quit at any sudden time without consequence. You had merely replied that you understood the struggles of being a single parent and that he shouldn’t be ashamed of asking for help when it was needed.

Single Father!Miguel who notices that Gabriella views you more than just her occasional babysitter. When he'd come home late at night, he was usually greeted by you two doing something together, whether it be doing math homework together, baking cookies, you reading aloud to her, or just simply talking, he'd always catch you and her almost... bonding.

Single Father!Miguel who often dwells on the memory of young Gabriella asking innocently why she doesn't have two parents like the rest of her classmates, why she only had one parent compared to everyone else after witnessing she was the odd one out during Family Day. Miguel didn't, and still doesn't, have the courage to tell her that her real mother had abandoned her to him, leaving Miguel in the dust. Miguel used her naivety to his advantage. He disguised it as her being unique compared to others, that some moms just came later in life; she just happened to be a late bloomer.

Single Father!Miguel who always thanks you for staying late tucking Gabriella into bed when he couldn't. You constantly tell him that it's truly no problem, but he insists on thanking you every time and ever so subtly increasing your paycheck. How could he not? Especially considering the fact you always, always whip him up extra dinner that was tucked away for him to eat during the late hours of night.

Single Father!Miguel who feels uneasy as he opens up a fridge to find the said pasta left by you one night in a glass tupperware container, staring at how neatly it’s been plated despite its standard container. He juts it into the microwave as he attempts to ignore how quiet and desolate the kitchen and the apartment is, how the humming of the microwave and the humdrum of the ceiling fan are the only noise that floats through. And when he quietly eats the pasta serving meant for one, he can’t help but gaze longingly at the empty seat across the dining table, where someone else should be seated with him sharing the same meal.

Single Father!Miguel who finally has the time to pick up his daughter after school for once in the school year, but forgot to tell you that you were able to take the rest of the day off. So you, him, Gabriella, and essentially everyone are surprised when both you and Miguel show up to pick Gabriella up after school. One of the teachers goes to gush about how she's excited to meet Gabriella's dad and what a beautiful family you all are, to which you and Miguel, evidently flustered, explain loosely your relationship to each other and how it's merely professional (to one curly-headed third grader, though, it's not—but she'd never tell you and her father that. At least not now.).

Single Father!Miguel who tags along to Gabriella's after school soccer practice for once and despite your protests about you not wanting to interfere "family time", Miguel and his daughter convince you to come watch her like you usually did on Wednesdays. He says he doesn't mind at all and if anything, could use your presence there to ease his nerves since he'd be a newcomer to the soccer parent group.

Single Father!Miguel who watches attentively to how you support Gabriella on the field from the sidelines. He wonders tenaciously if you've fallen into routine of this—from helping her get ready into her uniform to offering small suggestions that help her on the soccer field. He doesn't miss the way her eyes go towards you whenever she did something right and he especially catches onto the fact that she would gush in pure happiness from your approval when you would throw a thumbs up or a delighted nod.

Single Father!Miguel who merely blinks at the compliments given by the two friendly soccer mom next to him.

"Gabi does certainly look a lot like you, but she still has (Y/N)'s beauty and kindness, doesn't she?"

"Oh yes, I agree. Your wife is nothing less of lovely, you know, you're a very lucky man, Mr. O'Hara!"

He's so caught up in trying to process both their words and Gabriella's action on the field, that it doesn't register to him until a few moments later. Miguel attempts to butt in, saying that you're just his subordinate, but when a loud cheer from the other team erupts through, his words fail him.

Single Father!Miguel whose mind is still so stuck on what the soccer moms had said about you that he didn't even realize Gabriella had made the winning goal for today's practice match. Lying through his teeth when asked about if he saw it from her, he realizes that perhaps he should start viewing you in a different light rather than just his daughter's babysitter because the way that Gabriella looks at you with such elation when you congratulate her on her win pulls at his heartstrings ever so slightly.

Single Father!Miguel who contemplates over and over again if he should be doing this—inviting you to Gabriella's first game of the season—the two purchased tickets he held in his fist. You've entered his home a dozen of times, but this would be the first time in three years that he was outside of your own residence. He thinks he's too dressed up for the occasion, cladded in a white button up and black dress pants. A voice asks him if he's his daughter's boyfriend, and Miguel whips around to face an elderly man with a questioned look on his face.

Single Father!Miguel who realizes that it's your father standing in front of him, spare key in hand. He's quick to say no (to your father's disappointment), and introduces himself as your superior. Your father invites Miguel inside your apartment, telling him that you were out fetching groceries and jokingly mentions he uses this opportunity to sneakily fill your cabinets and fridge of food. Your father complains you're too independent for your own good, but he can't exactly blame you—you grew up that way.

Single Father!Miguel who learns that once in your life you were just like his daughter and that in one point in your father's life, he was just like Miguel. All details shared from him, he learns that your mother passed away early in your life due to cancer and ultimately left you and your father to fend for yourselves. Your father tells Miguel that you often had helped out even when you didn't need to—and it doesn't take long for Miguel to piece the pieces together. Why you barely complain about the extra workload, why your father said you're too autonomous, and why all those years ago you not only sympathized with Miguel, but understood his situation as you came from the same exact upbringing.

Single Father!Miguel who listens intently when your father quietly tells him that all he wants for you is to find a good man that would be able to take care of you properly because he believes he wasn't able to. Miguel is quick to reassure him, however, that he did a fantastic job raising a selfless, humble woman that grew to be compassionate and considerate of others' needs, that you were the hardest worker he had ever seen and that he shouldn't discredit himself. Your father goes to examine Miguel for a moment before letting out a loud, haughty laugh in your apartment and jokingly (not really) tells Miguel he hopes that you'll marry him one day, or at least someone like him.

Single Father!Miguel whose resolve dissipates when you walk into your apartment to find your boss and your father talking amongst each other. He sits silently and awkwardly as you complain to your father about dropping by without any warning before you ask him what was he doing here in the first place. Your father takes his leave, winking at Miguel with a glint in his eye, leaving you two in your apartment alone.

Single Father!Miguel who finally gathers up the courage to ask you if you'd like to attend Gabriella's soccer game with him. You interject with visible hesitation, telling him that it was implied that it was a family-only event and you'd hate to intrude onto something so intimate, but he's quick to reassure you that his daughter would love to have you there considering all the help you had given her during her practices—if anything, she would need you there for your support.

Single Father!Miguel who tells you that Gabriella had shown visible distress last night when Miguel told her that you might not be able to come due to your non-familial relationship with them. He almost begged you to come with them, as Gabriella had even threatened to quit soccer altogether if you weren't there to witness her first game. When you give in after moments of contemplation, Miguel truly couldn't believe his luck.

Single Father!Miguel who roots alongside you for Gabriella and her team, watching oh so closely just in case someone from the other team did a dirty trick on his precious daughter. He'd sometimes occasionally glance at you, only to see you completely zoned in and focused on Gabriella's playing like the rest of the parents, offering your support through compliments and encouragements that his daughter always caught and would visibly improve from. When she finally scores the winning goal per usual, she's quick to ignore the cheers coming from her teammates and parents to run off the field and not look for Miguel first, but for you.

"Did you see me?!" Gabriella exclaims excitedly as she flings her arms around your waist. "Did you see what I did?!"

"I did, yes," you laugh, attempting not to stumble over from the impact with visible glee and crouch down to her height. Pride written all over your face, you grin. "And I'm so incredibly proud of you."

"It's 'cause I did what you taught me," she declares. "I pointed first and then I shooted!" She uses hand gestures to reanimate her play on the field.

"Shot, Gabi," you correctly gently, your fingers going to automatically comb out the tangles out of her hair like you usually did after practices. "It does come handy, doesn't it?"

"Yeah!" Her eyes go to see Miguel, who doesn't stalk too far behind with open arms and the same proud look painted on his face. "Dad! Didja see me?! Didja see that I scored?!"

Miguel lets out a once-in-a-blue-moon chuckle and lifts his daughter into his arms, her arms wrapping around his neck in an affirming hug. "I saw very clearly, mi cariño, and I can't wait to brag about how my daughter scored the winning shot for her team," he compliments warmly.

Gabriella goes to point gleefully in your direction. "It was all because of Miss. (Y/N)," she declares, not knowing that her statement would make a rush of heat bloom onto your face.

"O-oh no... I only... w-well," you stammer out meekly, trying to find the right words. "I'm actually not too knowledgeable on soccer... I only repeated what I found online and—"

"Thank you," Miguel starts off fondly. "(Y/N), truly. Thank you."

You stare at him. "Mr. O'Hara..."

He sets Gabriella down for her to join her rejoicing teammate and pats the small of your back with a grateful look plastered on his face. You were so used to seeing the rather stoic and often tired side of Miguel O'Hara that you forgot he, too, was capable of smiling at times, so when you spotted the small of a grin on his lips that was for you specifically, you felt something in your chest jerk a little bit.

"If it weren't for you being here," he starts off quietly so only you can hear. "Gabi wouldn't have participated at all. She wanted you to come so she'd have enough courage to play because she was so used to you supporting her," Miguel glances at his daughter giggling about on the field. "So it was understandable that if her biggest supporter wasn't here to cheer her on, she wouldn't exactly do her best."

You blink slowly at him, digesting his words in order to truly savor them for all that they were. "I was just—"

"—doing your job?" Miguel finishes for you. He shakes his head. "Last time I remember, 'attending your boss's daughter's soccer games' wasn't on your job description," he says, earning a soft chuckle out of you despite his rather flat tone.

"I suppose so," you murmur with an evident warmth in your eyes, one that Miguel is sure Gabriella has seen numerous times and will continue to welcome as long as you're around.

So when after a dinner celebration at her favorite restaurant, after the star player is tucked into bed after a long day's work, Miguel takes it upon himself to do the what he thought was the impossible for him but possible for Gabriella.

"Stay safe out there," Miguel directs quietly as he helps you put on your coat again. "And again, thank you for today."

"It was my pleasure, Mr. O'Hara," you reply, "And I actually had fun today, so I can thank you for that."

He escorts you down the apartment complex to the lobby and begins to watch you leave, the words on his tongue tipping ever so slowly before they spill the moment you're about to exit through the doors.

"(Y/N)."

At the sound of your voice, you turn to him with a questioning look on your face. "... yes?"

Miguel opens and closes his mouth like a fish for a couple of seconds before blurting out, "Are you free tomorrow evening?"

He scans your face for a reaction before surprise paints itself on your moonlit features. "I-I suppose I am," you nod slowly. "May I ask why?"

"Gabi is having a sleepover at one of her teammate's house," Miguel coughs out and shoves his hands into his pockets to hide their fidgeting.

"Do you need me to drop her off...?" you ask, clearly puzzled.

"No, um," he clears his throat again. "I was... I was actually wondering if you'd... if you'd like to check out that new restaurant that opened up on Clark..."

Regret pools in his mouth the second it falls from his lips and he begins to internally conjure some sort of half-assed lie, perhaps saying something along the lines of the company wanted him to review it for a potential cater in the future or that a friend of his worked there, but when he sights your eyes softening with the same warmth from earlier, he lets you take the reigns on fate.

"I'd quite like that," you murmur, a modest smile on your lips.

a/n ; i told you i was going to give into temptation. wrote this on a plane with no wifi on the way here (thank god for offline editing!)

anyways, i'm trying to squeeze this bit out before my plane ride tmrw since i've been travelling for the past week and a half! i'll be returning home soon where i can finally write to my heart's content, phew! i just reallyyyyy wanted to write something for miguel adjdjfkfalwf but fear not! we shall be back to our regularly scheduled program soon!

as always, thank you for reading and likes+comments+reblogs are always appreciated and never unnoticed（╹◡╹）♡!

#spider-man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader

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fireinmoonshot · 1 month

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surprise | tyler owens x reader

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader Summary: You drive to Oklahoma to surprise Tyler before a chase after he's had a stressful week. Warnings: Tyler calls reader baby. Other than that, I think there's nothing! Word Count: 1.2k A/N: I randomly had this idea after I rewatched Twisters tonight and thought it was so cute so I had to write it. I am also working on some requests you guys have sent in, just have been having a crazy few days at work so I haven't had the chance to finish and post them – but they're coming! For now, enjoy this! 💗

The second that Tyler stops the truck, it’s practically swarmed by tens of fans, all wanting an autograph and a selfie and the chance to see the famous Tornado Wranglers in person. The gas station is packed to the brim full of actual professional storm chasers and amateurs. You would consider yourself to be neither.

From your spot across the parking lot, you watch as Tyler exits the car, yelling his famous catchphrase: “If you feel it…”, the fans finishing it off with “chase it!” You’re leant up against the door of your own car, a smile on your face as you see the smile on Tyler’s. He almost always takes the time to greet everyone that’s come out to see them, signing photos and taking selfies. His stash of pre-signed photos that he keeps in his car always coming in handy.

Dating the one and only Tyler Owens, famous storm chaser, was not something for the weak. You’d known that from the very start. To anyone else, it’d probably bother them, having to wait for him to interact with all of the fans before he could make his way over to you. But for you? You love being able to watch him, see the genuine joy on his face at meeting the people who had changed his life by watching their once little Youtube videos. You wish you got to do it more often.

You know that when Tyler does eventually spot you, it’ll be worth all the waiting, worth the hours of solo driving you’d done alone to get here. Nearly seven hours of driving from your home in Arkansas just to surprise your boyfriend. He’d been stressed lately with the lack of storms across Oklahoma and the neighbouring states along Tornado Alley, wondering what was going to happen to their channel if they couldn’t produce content for it.

But the sight of everyone still taking selfies with the Wranglers proves to you that Tyler has nothing to worry about at all. You can see the Tornado Wranglers have a loyal fanbase.

You watch for a few more minutes, stifling a yawn as you do. You’d stopped after five hours of driving last night and spent the night at a motel which had given you one of the worst nights sleep of your life, and done the last few hours in the morning before arriving at the gas station that Tyler had told you they were headed to today. It was the closest gas station to where storms were predicted today, hence the crowd.

You’re about to start wandering over towards Tyler and the other Wranglers, still making their way through the crowd of fans, when you can see Tyler spot you. He’s just finished taking a selfie with a middle-aged woman when he stops in his tracks, eyes settling on you. Even from your distance, you can tell he’s spotted you.

It’s confirmed when he mutters a quick word to the people around him before he takes off at a run, straight towards you. He kicks up dust and dirt as he runs, trying to get to you as quickly as possible. You can’t keep the smile off your face as he gets closer.

“Baby, what the hell!?” He yells, not long before he reaches you.

Tyler almost knocks the wind out of you as he barrels into you, wrapping his arms around your body and lifting you off the ground. He spins you around in a circle and it’s impossible not to laugh at the feeling, his arms tight around you. He sets you back down on the ground and pulls away, hands still resting on your waist.

“Surprise,” you grin at him.

“You drove all this way just to surprise me?” Tyler looks at you in awe, his eyes both filled with an immense amount of love as well as a tinge of worry. “Baby, that’s a seven hour drive. Didn’t you have a shift yesterday? Please don’t tell me you drove all night.”

You shake your head. “I only drove till midnight, then I stopped at a motel. Promise.”

Tyler moves one of his hands to cup your cheek before he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re insane, y’know that? Drivin’ till midnight after an eight hour shift. You should’ve told me. What if something had happened to you on the road?”

You can see the worry etched on his face so you waste no time in pulling him in for a hug again, burying your face in his chest. Tyler reacts immediately, gently resting one of his hands on the side of your head. You feel him take a deep breath, taking everything in, taking your presence in.

“Ty, nothing happened. I’m here, I’m safe. I’m with you.”

He nods and rubs one of his hands up and down your back. “Thank you for comin’, baby. You have no idea how good it feels to be holdin’ you right now. When I looked over here and I saw you… was like everything felt like it might actually be okay.”

“Cause it will be, Ty,” you assure him. “But I do feel a little bad for tearing you away from the people that didn’t get selfies or autographs with you before you ran off.”

Tyler pulls away from the hug, but he still keeps a hand on you. “You got nothin’ to feel bad about, baby. I promise you that. And they all know who you are, I’m sure they get it.”

You smile up at him and then have to stifle another yawn. Your attempt at hiding it fails spectacularly, though, and Tyler narrows his eyes at you.

“Did you get any sleep last night?” One of his hands rests on your cheek again, a thumb gently stroking back and forth over your cheek.

“A little,” you say. “The motel was kinda dodgy. The mattress was like a rock.”

Tyler gives you one of his best unimpressed looks and shakes his head. “Okay, I’m sending you back to our motel. I’ll give you my room key, it’s in the truck, and you can go and rest up while we try and chase this storm this afternoon.”

“No, no,” you disagree. “I’m comin’ with you, Ty. I didn’t drive all this way just to be cooped up in some motel watching your chase on a computer screen. I gotta steal my seat back from Boone. He’s been gettin’ way too comfortable up there.”

Tyler let out a laugh and leans down to gently peck your lips. “Oh, baby, you know that seat belongs to you. And believe me, Boone knows it too.”

He attempts to step backwards, then, but you’re quick to move, placing one of your hands on the back of his neck and bringing his lips back to yours. Tyler has no objections, wrapping his arms around your waist as he kisses you back. It’s been weeks since he last saw you, weeks since he got to kiss you like this. You’re surprised he managed to hold off on it for so long after reuniting with you.

“Come on,” you say after breaking apart from the kiss. You reach down and grab Tyler’s hand in yours, weaving your fingers through his. “Let’s go give the rest of these people their autographs and selfies and get me my seat back.”

Tyler grins, giving your hand a squeeze. “Lead the way, baby.”

#tyler owens #tyler owens x you #tyler owens x reader #twisters #twisters x reader #twisters x you #twisters 2024 #tyler owens fanfic #twisters fanfic

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devil-in-hiding · 1 month

Note

Duuuuuuuude I just have to say that I just went on the most awkward first date. Like this guy asked ME on the date. I get there, he doesn’t even open the door for me, he doesn’t pay for my ice cream (which like I get that I’m an independent woman and everything but like it’s just chivalry idk) and just also he barely talked to me, I was the only one asking getting to know you questions or otherwise we just sat there is complete silence. Also he like stared at me the whole time and it was super uncomfortable. So I was just thinking like assistant reader telling the 141 guys about something like that and all of them boasting like “I’d treat you way better” and stuff like that

Please this has assistant!reader all over it i love

Coming into the base the morning after a h o r r i b l e date, absolutely horrific. Sitting at your desk with a pout on your lips, typing away at some mission report Price had asked you to review for him, when you hear the heavy fall of boots stop next to you.

“Lieutenant.” You greet, voice short and you can see Ghost frown at you. “Wha’s the matter with you?” He questions, crossing his arms over his chest, and you could just see the raised eyebrow.

You don’t meet his eye, fiddling with your fingers before he’s flicking you between the eyes with a sigh, pulling away before you can slap his hand. “I asked ya a question.”

“Do I look like one of your runts?” You snap, only to let out a shrill squeal when he grips the arms of your chair and yanks you up to him, bending down so he’s almost nose to nose with you.

“Spit it out.”

“Am I boring?” You blurt, and for the first time in the two years you have worked for Price (by extension, his team), you see a genuine look of surprise in his eyes.

“The hell you mean ‘borin’?” Ghost tilts his head, eyes narrowing and you fidget in your chair, this is the LAST man you’d have thought you’d be having this conversation with. “It’s just… I went on a god awful date last night and he made me feel like I was the most boring person on the planet. He just kept staring at me, like a staring contest. I kept trying to get to know him but he just kept shrugging, I don’t think he spoke three words and it was so fucking uncomfortable Simon.” You’re embarrassed at the tears brimming your eyes, rubbing at your eyes with the palm of your hand, sniffling.

You chance a glance at his face, and you can see the look of annoyance in his eyes, and you curl in on yourself. “Sorry, I-“

“What kind of daft cunt ruins a chance with you?” He scoffs, and your eyes widen but Simon just keeps on. “I mean, really love, where the hell did this man even take ya?”

“Ice cream…” You reply weakly and Simon lets out an honest to god snort, shaking his head. “You don’t even like ice cream that much, I woulda taken ya to that little bake shop around the corner that you love so much.” He huffs, and your heart flutters, heat crawling up your neck. “How-“

“And you are not borin’, if you have failed to notice, you bring a certain… warmth to these cold bastards.” He nods towards Price’s office, his eyes crinkling around the corners and you feel your own smile tugging your lips.

“Really?” Your voice is small, but Simon just leans a little closer, and you swear his eyes dart down to your lips.

“Why dontcha let me take ya out properly, yeah?”

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #call of duty #cod ghost

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maysileeewrites · 2 months

Text

HEAVENLY

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader || 18+, mdni!

Synopsis: It’s this gentle glow, this steady and strong flame within him that you fell in love with, and continue to fall in love with every day. || Or: a glimpse into married life with Jacaerys.

content & warnings: fluff and smut, smut (piv, oral (f), hair pulling, slight praise kink if you squint), established relationship, arranged marriage, light banter, some tooth-rotting fluff as well

masterlist || word count: 3.9k

AN: yes I totally hopped on the Jace hype train, but my man’s just sooo dreamy. I also saw a post pointing out the similarities between him and Robb Stark, and now my love for Jace totally makes sense 😭😭 I loved writing this and I have sooo many ideas for other Jace fics (Robb as well but idk if anyone is still interested in that). Anyways, have fun reading :)

You wake up to warm sunlight streaming through the window, a gentle morning breeze blowing through the room, birds chirping somewhere in the distance. If you really concentrate, you can also hear the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, can smell a faint, salty breeze in the morning air.

You yawn, trying to stretch and to draw the blankets up a bit higher - only to find yourself unable to.

Even fast asleep your husband is still curled around you, his head resting on the crook of your shoulder, his dark curls tickling your neck, his warm, even breaths ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck, causing you to shiver. His legs are still entangled with yours, and one of his hands is still splayed possessively over your stomach, the other resting on your waist.

Your waist - where, if you were able to move and stretch, you’d surely see imprints of his fingers on your skin.

You can’t help it - even just thinking of the previous night’s activities brings a furious blush to your cheeks.

Jacaerys has always been an attentive lover, gentle yet passionate, and last night has been no different.

You bite down hard on your lip, remembering.

The way he’d thrusted up into you while you were sitting in his lap, the fingers of his right hand digging into the skin of your waist, steadying you; while his other hand had been between your thighs, his thumb rubbing soothing circles onto your clit while you moved up and down on his cock.

That had been your third orgasm of the night, and while you already felt overstimulated and exhausted at that point, Jacaerys had seemed to have made it his own personal mission to bring you to ecstasy at least four times that night.

After he’d gotten you to your peak, he kissed you passionately, and then, without having finished himself, he lowered his face between your legs, coaxing your fourth orgasm from you.

By that point, you were a quivering, panting mess. Jacaerys cradled your face lovingly, peppering your skin with gentle kisses.

„You did so well for me, Princess“, he whispered, kissing the corner of your mouth. You smiled exhaustedly, reaching up your hands to wind them around his neck again, drawing him in for another kiss. He shifted, covering your body with his again and you could feel his painfully hard, throbbing length against your stomach, causing you to whine. And though your clit was still swollen and you could already feel a familiar feeling of soreness settling between your legs, there was a familiar heat pooling between your legs yet again.

While he’d already driven you to your peak four times, Jacaerys had only finished twice, and you couldn’t have to that. So, removing one hand from his neck, you reached between your bodies, positioning his hard length between your legs.

„Princess, what-„, Jacaery‘s question was cut off by the loud, broken moan that left you when you felt him sliding back into you, filling you to the brim.

„Fuck, Princess“, Jacaerys moaned, looking down at you. You could see the different emotions he was feeling warring on his face - there was that desire to stay gentle and tender and take care of your needs, but there was something else there as well, something darker, more primal, his own lust, a desire to finally find his pleasure.

And so, you tangled your hands in his hair, tugging and pulling at his dark curls the way you knew always drove him insane.

„More, please“, was all you needed to moan, before Jace groaned, grabbing your legs and hitching them over his shoulder. The new angle allowed him to thrust even deeper and more intensely into you, and soon his thrusts were becoming more and more erratic.

One of your hands moved to his back, nails digging into his skin, leaving a reminder of this moment. Just like his handprints on your waist.

And the permanent imprint he’d left on your heart, the moment you made your vows to each other.

It didn’t take long for either of you to reach your peak.

Afterwards, Jacaerys scooped you up in his arms, leaving gentle kisses on your skin, his fingers stroking over your skin gently, his touch once again feather-light.

You close your eyes, a small smile on your lips, as slow, gentle kisses on your neck bring you back to the present moment.

„Morning, Princess“, Jacaerys says, his voice still thick with sleep.

„You’re tense …“, he comments only a moment later, his hand leaving your waist and reaching up to intertwine with yours.

You feel a blush creep up on your cheeks, which is ridiculous, considering everything that happened last night. Or the night before.

Or the night before that.

Any night since you and Jacaerys have been married, really. It’s only been a few months, but still - you always find yourself looking forward to the nights. And the mornings, and sometimes, if you find the time for it, the afternoons as well.

Before, when you were younger, you’d never imagined that marriage could be like this. You’d heard the stories whispered between some of the older maids, had seen the cold, distant way your parents always interacted with each other.

And so, when your parents first told you of your betrothal to Jacaerys Velaryon - the first child and heir of Princess Rhaenyra, a rumored bastard- just a few weeks after your eleventh name day, you’d been terrified.

You were even more terrified when you first met your betrothed two years later, on the feast that was thrown in honor of your thirteenth name day.

Later, after you were married, Jace had confessed to you that he’d initially thought that you hated him, because you almost didn’t speak to him for the entire evening. Which was true, but you also told Jace that back then, you’d simply been terrified, anxious. Shy and nervous and about to crack under the pressure your parents had put on you, telling you that it was imperative that you left a perfect impression on the royal family.

You’d slipped away from the festivities the first chance you got, after an incredibly awkward dance with Jacaerys. You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t even notice the young prince following you, until he made his presence known.

„I’m sorry, I know I’m a terrible dancer-“

A loud shriek escaped you and you turned around to face him. There he was, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking at you uncertainly and with a tender shyness on his expression.

„I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you - I - I only wanted to make sure that you were alright …“

You nodded slowly, tucking a stray strand of hair that had escaped your hairdo behind your ear.

This conversation wasn’t what you’d been expecting, not at all. You certainly hadn’t counted on him even noticing that something was wrong, yet alone following you to make sure that you were alright. Earlier that day and night, conversation between you two had been stiff and awkward, with neither of you quite knowing what to say to each other, and always someone from either of your families lurking around in the background.

But this was different and this was the moment you slowly started to realize that maybe Jacaerys Velaroyn wasn’t all that bad.

So, you found yourself taking a tentative step towards him. „I - I am now, I - thank you, Your Grace.“

„Jacaerys - it’s Jace, if you like“, he corrected you gently, also taking a tentative step towards you, before holding out his hand. „Friends?“

You nodded, feeling a small smile tug at the corners of your lips. „Friends.“

You and Jacaerys hadn’t seen much of each other after your name day celebrations, but only a few days later, you received the first raven he ever sent you.

Since then, you two had been writing to each other constantly, sometimes sending three or even more ravens during a fortnight. And though you only continued to see him for very few occasions - his or your nameday celebrations, the royal wedding of Prince Aegon and his sister Helaena, the Queen Rhaenyra’s coronation -, you found yourself looking forward to these occasions more and more. He was your best friend, and with the years passing, the space he occupied in your heart only grew more and more.

And so, when a few weeks after your eighteenth nameday, your wedding was finally held, it was entirely different than what you’d been imagining it to be as a little child.

You weren’t afraid or terrified, not in the slightest. No, you were excited and happy, and if Jace is to be believed, you were glowing with joy the whole day through.

„Princess?“, Jacaery’s voice, now sounding concerned, draws you out of your thoughts yet again, and so you turn around, until you’re facing him.

You squeeze his hand, reaching up with your other hand to touch his cheek, unable to fight the warm smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Jacaerys returns your smile and you feel your heart skip a beat. When Jace smiles, really smiles, it’s as if his whole face is lightning up. There’s a gentle glow in his warm brown eyes, calming and reassuring.

It’s this gentle glow, this steady and strong flame in him that you fell in love with, and continue to fall in love with every day.

„What’re you thinking about, love?“, Jace asks you, his hand squeezing yours, his other hand leaving your waist and reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You smile, leaning into his touch. You don’t answer his question, not with words, at least. Instead, you just lean forward, gently pressing your lips to his, hoping to convey all the emotions you’re currently feeling through your kiss.

It seems to be working, because when you break apart a moment later, there’s a soft smile on Jacaerys’ lips and that warm glow in his eyes.

„I love you“, you say, before reaching for him again, connecting your lips again. He sighs, shifting, until his arm is at your waist again. Your hands find their way to his neck, one hand tugging at the curls at his nape.

For a while, the kiss stays tender and slow and loving. But then you shift, trying to find a position that’s a bit more comfortable for you, completely forgetting that your legs are still entangled with Jacaerys’. You end up drawing him even closer to you, until there’s no space left between you two, his body covering your own.

His grip on your waist tightens and he uses his other hand to support himself, drawing himself up a bit as to not crush you completely under his weight. This new position allows Jace to bunch up the fabric of your nightgown, slipping his fingers under the thin fabric, until his fingertips are stroking over the bare skin of your waist.

You sigh contentedly, locking your legs around his waist - and pause, wincing. What before was only a slight feeling of discomfort has now turned into an intense, unpleasant burning between your legs. You feel incredibly sore and you can only imagine how hard it will be today, walking around with this unpleasant soreness between your legs, trying not to wince at every step.

„Princess?“, Jace who’s noticed that something’s wrong, asks you, concern lacing his voice. His warm brown eyes find yours and in them you see his worry and concern for you.

You shake your head, trying to smile. „It’s nothing“, you say, trying to wave away his concern.

„No“, Jace says, shaking his head. His hand leaves your waist, gently cradling your cheek instead. „No, I know it’s not nothing, love.“

You sigh. „Well, it’s nothing important.“

„Princes“, Jace says, his gaze still holding yours, „please - you can tell me.“

You close your eyes briefly, trying to fight of the blush that’s threatening to creep onto your cheeks. Really, all things considered, it’s so stupid to be embarrassed to admit to something like this, when you’ve already shared so much with your husband.

You sigh, opening your eyes again, finding Jace still looking at you with worry in his expression. „It’s nothing, really, I - I’m just - I’m just a bit sore after last night …“, you say, feeling your cheeks blush a furious red. Great, now you probably look like an overly ripe tomato.

As if that weren’t already bad enough, Jacaerys’ puzzled expression really has you wishing to die from embarrassment, if only for a short moment.

„Oh - oh …“, Jacaerys says, a bit sheepishly, his hand leaving your waist, drawing himself up, but you stop him by reaching out a hand and touching his forearm.

„Jace, it’s fine, really-“

„I didn’t - I didn’t mean to hurt you“, he says, genuine concern in his voice.

You squeeze his shoulder. „Jace, you didn’t hurt me.“

„But-“

„Jace, this happens. It’s normal, really.“

„Wait, do you mean - is it always like this for you?“

You shake your head. „Not always … last night was - intense …“

You don’t even know how that’s possible, but your cheeks seem to be getting even hotter. But when you look up at Jacaerys, you see his cheeks growing rather pink as well, and somehow, that brings a small smile to your lips.

„I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry, I - is there anything I can do to make it better for you?“, Jace asks you, fingertips softly stroking the skin of your cheek.

„I-“, you start to say, at the same moment that Jace says: „I have an idea.“

You laugh quietly and you’re relieved when you see a shy smile on his lips as well.

„I - will you let me - do you trust me?“, Jace asks you and you smile.

„Always.“

Jace nods, returning your smile. „Good. Lie back, try to relax. And do tell me if something I do is hurting you at all, please?“

You nod, lying back down on the sheets. Jace watches you with a small smile on his face. Then, he lifts himself off of you, and you almost protest when you don’t feel the reassuring weight of his body anymore, but as if he’s sensed the direction of your thoughts, his lips find yours again in a featherlight, tender kiss.

The kiss is soft and sweet, and for a moment, you find yourself thinking that it’s almost a bit too innocent and gentle, but then Jace slowly deepens the kiss and one of his hands moves to your collarbone, the touch of his fingertips featherlight on your skin.

As the kiss turns deeper and more sensual, his tongue coaxing your mouth open, his fingertips start exploring your skin, slowly, but surely moving downwards.

Your collarbone.

Your sternum. His fingertips stay there for a moment, drawing circles on your skin and you find your heart beating faster in anticipation. Then, as Jace breaks the kiss, only to attach his lips to the spot on your neck that he know always drives you nearly insane, his fingertips finally move lower to the valley between your breasts.

Your breath hitches and you swear that you can feel Jacaerys smirking. He can be such a tease-

Then, the fabric of your nightgown is shoved aside rather unceremoniously. You shudder, because at the same moment that Jace’s fingertips move to your breasts, cupping the tender skin, his lips start suckling at the spot on your neck and then you can feel his teeth lightly graze over your skin and you’re sure that he’s going to leave a mark, a purple love bite that will be hard to cover up and conceal - joining two other ones that are slowly starting to fade - but you find that you don’t care, not at all.

All that you can think about is that you want, no need, more. More of Jacaerys. More of his hands and lips on your skin, more of that blissful tension.

„Jace, please“, you say, your voice breathless. His lips leave your neck then and he looks up at you, desire clear and tangible in his gaze.

A look passes between you and Jacaerys seems to understand exactly what you need without you having to say a single word. His hands leave your waist and breasts briefly, to take off your nightgown.

Now, you’re completely bare before him, while he’s still in one of the soft linen shift he always wears in bed.

„Gods, you’re so beautiful“, he whispers, awe and adoration in his voice.

Then, he leans in towards you again and you think that he’s going to kiss you, but instead, his head moves between your breasts and he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, while his left hand starts playing with the nipple of your other breast.

You moan, squirming.

At that, Jace looks up at you, mouth still attached to your breast and you can’t help but let out another loud moan. You’re so dizzy and driven by desire that you only notice Jace’s other hand start to move lower, when you feel his fingertips lightly brushing over your core.

„Jace, oh gods-“ Your voice is breathy and full of want, and once again Jace gives you exactly what you need, his fingertips moving lightly over your core, his other hand playing with your breasts, as his lips continue to move lower and lower and lower.

He leaves soft, featherlight kisses on your breasts, your stomach, the inner sides of your thighs. Your breath hitches and you feel your heart beat faster and faster as Jace peppers more and more kisses, moving closer and closer to where you really need to feel him.

There’s a burning ache beside you, a fire and his touches are stoking its flames. Feeling his fingertips move lightly over your core isn’t enough, you need more, you need to really, truly feel him.

Your hands move on their own accord, coming to settle in his dark curls, softly tugging at his hair to get his attention.

Jace looks up at you then, his dark brown eyes slightly glassy. His lips are red and swollen and his cheeks are red, but he still looks absolutely angelic. Heavenly.

„Jace, please“, you breathe, you voice shaky and barely more than a whisper.

You think you see him smirk at your words, but then you can’t think straight anymore, because he lowers his head again and then his lips are right there where you so desperately crave them. His hand has moved and he’s now pressing his thumb against your bundle of nerves, steadily applying pressure while leaves soft, featherlight kisses on your core.

He’s teasing you again, something he really, really likes to do. And though normally you enjoy him teasing you quite a bit, right now, you’re desperate. And so, you tug at his curls just a bit more stronger, trying to convey your desperate needs to him that way.

At first, you think that he’s just going to continue teasing you, but then, suddenly, you feel his tongue licking over your slit, before delving between your folds.

Your unconsciously tighten your grip on his hair, squirming, panting.

It just feels so good, too good. Jace’s tongue continuing to delve between your folds, nearing that sweet spot that always has your vision go hazy, his thumb continuing to press against your bundle of nerves, his other hand still between your breasts, alternating between rolling your nipples between his fingers and roaming over your tender skin.

You’re panting now, quivering and moaning, tugging at Jace’s dark curls with abandon. Dimly, you worry about tugging too hard, maybe even hurting him, but the quiet, satisfied noises that leave him tell you a different story. And so, you don’t loosen your grip, steadying yourself with your hands in his hair.

Then his tongue reaches that sweet spot inside you that has your vision go hazy and you moan loudly.

Two of his fingers enter you as well then, and he keeps finding that sweet spot repeatedly with his tongue, all the while circling his fingers and keeping pressure on your bundle of nerves with his tongue.

You’re getting closer, you can feel it. The fire in your is building and building and building. One of your hands leaves his hair, blindly reaching for Jace’s free hands. He meets you halfway, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. Steadying you.

„Jace, oh gods, I-“, you moan, panting and quivering as Jace’s tongue and fingers continue to move in and out of you. His pace gets faster, the pressure a bit more intense and then, fire consumes you.

You moan his name loudly, your back arching off the bed.

An intense, dizzying wave of pleasure crashes over you, threatening to drown you.

Jacaerys guides you along through it all, taking everything you give him - the desperate tug on his curls, the harsh squeeze of his hand, your legs pressing closer.

He takes it, takes everything. Your pleasure is his, and his is yours.

You burn, together.

You squeeze your eyes shot, drowning in this intense pleasure, breath heavy and panting.

After a few moments, your breathing has returned to normal, and you blindly reach for Jacaerys, drawing him up towards you. Your hands wind around his neck, and you draw him in for a kiss. It’s messy, a bit of your slick still connected to his lips and you can still taste yourself on his lips, but you don’t care.

You try to convey everything you feel through your kiss, but it’s not enough and so you break away, still panting heavily. „I love you - gods, I love you so much.“

There’s that glow in Jace’s eyes again and you move one of your hands to cup his cheek. „I love you, Jacaerys Velaryon“, you say, before connecting your lips to his again.

This kiss is slow and tender, and not rushed at all, instead full of emotion.

When he breaks away, Jace rests his forehead against yours, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. „I love you, Princess.“

You smile, kissing him once again, before snuggling up next to him, resting your head on the crook of his shoulder. He reaches out one arm, splaying it over your stomach, drawing you closer.

It only occurs to you then, lying so close to him. You look up at him. „What about you, Jace?“

He frowns slightly. „What?“

You feel yourself blushing. „Do you want me to-“

„No“, he quickly rushes to interrupt you. When he notices your confused expression, one of his hands finds yours, squeezing it. „It’s not that I don’t want to - I do, really, just … I wanted to make you feel good. And besides … I - I … I uh … I already finished …“ The last part is said so quietly that you almost don’t understand it. But then you notice his cheeks growing rather pink and you smile fondly, squeezing his hand.

You leave a soft kiss on his shoulder, before sitting up, supporting your weight on your elbow. With your free hand, you reach for his face, tucking a stray curl back behind his ear, before leaning in to kiss him again.

„I love you, Jace.“

He smiles, resting his forehead against yours.

„I love you, Princess.“

Thank you so much for reading! <3 my requests for Jace are currently open 🤭

#jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys smut #jacaerys x you #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jace velaryon x reader #jacaerys imagine #hotd #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #prince jacaerys #hotd jacaerys #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #jacaerys strong #jacaerys targaryen x you

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packsvlog · 25 days

Text

☕️⌇ ◜ OFFICE HOURS ◞ ⠀⠀⠀

╰⠀boss!nanami x secretary!reader where . . . nanami kento can’t let people know the reality that he, under no circumstances, belongs to them. in fact, is quite the contrarie. everyone in this job is a puppet willingly letting him pull the strings. you more than anyone. after committing the bizarre mistake of telling nanami your true intentions with him, your boss is more than eager to comply your desires and just maybe, forget he first input of no belongings.

cw. too much swearing, fingering with others present (not caught), fem!reader, reader keeps daydreaming w. nanami, slightly age gap but non-important all legal, public sex, overstimulation, they both keep failing to hide, possessiveness, love bites, he slap her thigh once, bit of blood because of self lip biting 4.9k words, english is not my first language.

an. hi, hello, i want everyone to know i’m this man wife. this is, in fact, our love story, i used to serve his coffee, now i’m serving my puss— anyways, enjoy it. FYI nanami smells like either tom ford tobacco vanille or byredo bibliothèque.

There are certain events in the workplace ── a sequence, if you may ── that serves as a warning to everyone that Mr. Nanami Kento has arrived.

Not many months ago, you were clueless to the symphony of presentation he had, even before stepping into the room. Now, though, it’s engraved in your mind. Much like he is. It is, also, a dirty secret to have that you eagerly wait for it, everyday.

Halting the tack-tack of your fingers on the keyboard, your ears pick the first signal ── rushed footsteps. All opening space so he can pass without the need to raise his eyes, hidden by sunglasses, from his cellphone. The second is the whispers and swooning. Some, more brave than others, compliment him out loud. Always about his peculiar ties, and always he smiles back. Lastly, when Nanami is in your sight of view, he is accompanied by his signature scent that greets you before he even does.

The most raw way to describe his smell is by saying that you wish you could crack him open, and lay inside of him forever. It’s comfortable and addicting and it makes you want to kiss him until it can permanently fixates on you.

In more proper synonyms, Nanami Kento smells like caramel, wood and a bit smokey. He is hot to the touch, one can admit. You don’t fall far from these thoughts, but sometimes, when you are not eye-fucking your boss, you think he smells like a cozy cabin in the woods.

Perfect place to fuck him, though.

Is easy to imagine such a thing. You can picture him with thick sweat covering his body, like a second layer, as he comes inside with a hatchet and wood for the fireplace. And you can, also easily, imagine yourself on your knees sucking him so good, as way to thank him for keeping you warm.

It’s a Kento effect. Everywhere he passes, people tend to have a heat stroke. You are no better than the others. Probably worse. He, however, does not need to know that. Nanami’s plate is already filled to the brims with people gazing him as a snack, he doesn’t need his personal assistant to do the same.

Not in front of him, anyways.

So, when he comes near your table, and stop to take whatever you have for him (work related, honey, even when you wish it was your pussy), you present the calls he need to answer with a compliment for his shoes and a black coffee with pretzels.

He adores you.

You want to fuck him senseless.

A perfect imperfect balance of clashing feelings. His are professional, yours are not even close. He only steps over the boundaries when it’s to call you “Darling” and you only do so in your head, when you think of laying on his table and letting him feast on your dripping cunt.

He is gentle and caring.

You wouldn’t mind chanting his name loud enough for everyone to understand what’s happening.

He departs ways and you share a trembling sigh with your inner turmoil of emotions. He makes you have a constant fever. In fact, with him, everything is constant. You want to fuck him everyday, you touch yourself with his voice in your mind guiding you. He gets pretty out of character in your alone mind, though.

Real Nanami is a sweetheart. Your Nanami would make you cry while on his cock.

“── and the meeting room needs to be ready by eleven, you can do all that, darling?” He asks. He asks! He is talking with you.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, Mr. Kento,” You stutter before shifting your attention from your computer screen to his charming understandable smile. “could you repeat, please?”

“Sure, darling.”

You need to put extra neurons to work when eyeing his pink lips moving gracefully. Is it the same shade as his cock? Oh, you hoped so. That would be your favorite color, would paint your nails, your hair, anything.

“Got it now?” Nanami curls his lips as he question you. You can’t lie to him, so you sign that No, you did not payed attention. He chuckles and comes closer, resting both hands in fist on your table, letting himself down so he can be face to face with you. “I need you to order mine, yours and the lunch for the usual gentleman I talk about the finances, ── you have that noted, right?” You nod, and he proceeds. “Then, I want you to decorate the meeting room, the way you always do.” You nod again, and he moves back. You want to whine. “Good girl.”

Pause.

That’s new. It’s like achieving a new item in a game. A new level. That’s a prize, the greatest form of enlightenment one could have. You feel warm in your chest and cheeks, but dare not to sway your eyes from his twinkling ones. You wonder if he knows what you are thinking, or if he knows the power he has over you ── over everyone.

That’s Nanami Kento. The man with a dazzling aura, it touches all in proximity, no one survives him. If he wants, you are his. Hooked like a worm, willingly ready to be devoured by a fish, and the thing is no one knows if Nanami is said fish or the fisherman.

The secret about his success is not only the sweet talk he does, but the way he can easily take it away. And no one wants to be away from his warmth. You’ve seen it before, how he controls people ── some more powerful than your mind can comprehend, they all are puppets for him to pull the strings. He touches and praises them when they do what he wants, but Nanami grows cold and absent when they don’t.

Everyone wants to be loved by him, so everything this enterprise does, it revolves around Nanami.

He can be a scary man when he wants, and you’ve heard the tales, from time to time. With you, fortunately, he is just your nice boss. And a part of you wish he would cradle you into his arms and play with you like a marionete. His doll. Yeah, you want to be his fucking doll.

Tempted to ruin this lunch and be ravished by his famine, you shake your deranged thoughts and focus on ordering the food. Also asking for red velvet cookies for you and Mr. Gojo, the owner of this whole enterprise.

A cocky young man, that likes to devour your physique whenever you come inside the room. He is rich and beautiful and his name is always on the newspaper with gossip mostly involved. You could fall for him, could fuck him, but he is not Nanami.

He doesn’t boss you around gently, nor he makes you crave his scent on lonely nights. He makes you shy, but not timid and horny. In fact, you don’t even think about Satoru Gojo unless you are balancing his persona with Nanami’s. That’s sad for him.

You keep doing that ── the thoughts, the sexual dreams ── while preparing the meeting room with a charming decoration. Black glasses, black plates, all with golden details. Satoru Gojo himself payed for it, not that he knows or care. You commented once, Nanami liked, and moved his toys in favor of buying the expensive kitchen utensils you wanted. He even made sure to get some for your own house.

The last part is closing the thick black curtains around the room, for privacy. Someone comes inside the second you step back from the last tapestry, and when you turn, Nanami is there.

“How’s everything?” His fingers press on the table, moving swiftly with him, closer to you. “You’ve got cookies?” There is amusement in his question.

“Mr. Gojo’s secretary, Suguru, told me he was craving something sweet.” You turn back to the table behind you, stacking the sweet in a small mountain. “He always gets fussy if he doesn’t get his daily large intake of sugar.”

You grabbed one, knowing that half of it was rightfully yours, and twisted on your heels. Nanami scared you in two sequential situations after that. The first being his looming presence right in front of you, piercing gaze on you, shifting between your eyes. He was searching for something in it, so, you tried the hardest you could to give him something back. Eyes that said “please, fuck me.”

Maybe it worked. The next thing he did, that scared you, was bending down and biting your cookie. Eyes never leaving yours. You gulped, he smirked.

“Please, fuck me.”

He chocked.

See, your eyes were supposed to be the one speaking for you, but Nanami also has this super power that no one can lie to him. He wants something, he gets it delivered in a silver plate. He knows everyone’s secret, and yours were never safe, just happened to be hidden in a line of things that weren’t priority for him. Not until now, at least. He wanted to know what you were hiding, and you gave it to him.

“I ──” The words are struck behind your teeth. Nanami eagerly waits for them. “I’m so sorry.”

And with that, you leave him.

In a perfect world, he would have grabbed you by the wrists and fucked you against Satoru’s side of the table. But it’s not, because he lets you go. He has to let you go, even if you know that’s not the end of it. He will get you later, and like a little kid in science class, he will dissect everything you said. Therefore, during the thirty minutes of freedom you are granted in the bathroom, before the meeting starts, you try and fail and try and fail to conceal your thoughts into a perfect lie.

It doesn’t work. Not even a bit. Because Nanami knows you like the back of his hand, as much as he knows everyone that works with him. He knows when you lie and when you are truthful, and thanks to that, your work relationship had always been good ── you’ve never lied to him to stroke his ego. You were too busy wanting to stroke something else. Nanami let you slide your nasty comments about others, and he would share them, granting you some of their secrets.

He was a gossiper. He knew everything. You knew right there that lying would never work with him, so you just avoided to let him reach that horny part of yours that burned for him. Give him something else to sink his attention into. Your neck, you wanted, but rather you would feed him with gossips from your college classes, or what you got from Suguru Geto, your friend and Satoru’s assistant.

Now, you had already run out of distractions. Maybe that was his plan all along. If the world is correct, and it all falls down to Nanami’s desires, then maybe he was just waiting for you to crumble and admit. You had never been subtle with your eyes, anyway. That’s why he had been so fascinated about it, staring from time to time, trying to catch a glimpse of your true self, like a wishing star in a starry night.

The stars have gone dark, burned and busted away, when you come back to the meeting room and sit down on your designed chair, by his side. Nanami is focusing at you, again, like he needs more of your secrets at this moment. You have never gave him something so largue before, he is addicted.

But you, stubborn, appalled, stoic and all, think your plate of pasta is the most interesting thing in this whole world. You don’t eat much, because your throat is filled with all the words and screams you want to let out. You fear if you so much breathe loud, it will all come flooding this room.

“Are you annotating all of this in your head?” Nanami whispers in your ear, referring to the meeting now in progress. You sign no, and he sighs. “Your mind is far away, today.”

“Sorry.”

“What should I do with you?”

Someone coughs. An old man, standing by the edge of the table. He wants Nanami’s eyes on him, the praise, the goodness. Kento grants him half a smile, and that is not enough. Never will be. Everyone always wants more.

The lights are turned off when the projector is brought by Suguru, he comes and goes quickly, not before stealing a cookie from Satoru. That’s the first smile you present since the incident, and Nanami is back at staring at you with an intensity your heart fears but your pussy drips for. Are you scared? Petrified. And still, you are fucking horny.

He knows your secret, he is devoting his eyes to you, no matter what anyone else wants. He, in this moment, wants you. It might be because he needs to know what you meant, it might be because you are stroking his ego, finally. Or, you dare wonder, he is debating throwing you on that table and fucking you. Old men and Satoru aside, you wouldn’t mind. At all.

You take courage to look at him, and instantly you stare at his lips first, before his eyes. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. You go back at eyeing the projector. He does the same a long beat later. An even longer one, he slowly puts his hand on your exposed thigh, skirt raised since you set down.

You try to not fail in your stoic face, but you do so anyway. Because, for fuck’s sake, Nanami Kento has his hands on your thigh, his thumb in circular movements. Your lips instinctively curl up, he snorts by your side before going back to his serious demeanor.

You thought he would just keep his hands there, as if testing the water but deciding to stay near the shore. That’s not his case, though. Nanami loves to go to the beach, to swim far away beyond the waves, he likes to get damped. His hand move closer, and you open your legs absentmindedly. He wants, you give. As much as you have wanted, and now he is giving you.

When his hands are pressing against your lacy underwear, you hear a little “Fuck” coming from his mouth. You’re soaking wet.

It’s hard to keep your breathing pattern steady when he is near you. Even more harder when he has one finger slowly penetrating you. For the outsider viewer, everything is normal, and the two of you are just concentrated on the projector screen. The truth is you have no idea what’s going on, and maybe neither does him. You want to moan, and tug his hair until he groans. And you want him to replace his finger with his cock. You stare at the annotation book, empty of your handwriting, and use the opportunity of your head down to hang your mouth open and close your eyes.

Nanami shifts his eyes to you, and he drowns himself into your fucked gaze, even more so when he puts another finger. He can’t linger much, or others will notice, so he decides to keep his movements fluid and calm, and to stare at you from time to time.

He can multitask. Of-fucking-course. He asks questions, answers, he acts as if he is one hundred percent into whatever is going on. The reality is different. The truth is all about his curling fingers pressing themselves in a place inside you that will forever mark his presence there. Like a secret plaything only for him, no one, not even you, will ever reach that. It’s like he is signing it with either his name only or a “Nanami was here.”

You want him to stay, forever. Stay inside you, slow pacing, curling, sensitive.

He can’t, because what feels like hours later, turns into minutes. Everyone is raising up to leave, and he moves out of you so fast, you clench around nothing ── had you been quicker, grabbed his fingers, they all would know. You don’t give a fuck, you want them too know.

“Go to my office.” He whispers before going the opposite direction of the exit, and staying back to talk with the others. You walk without a goodbye, creating an excuse when Satoru wants some of your time.

Inside his office, you feel like breathing for the first time. It’s confusing, like your lungs are new and not fully connected to your esophagus, so it comes up weird ── in a mixture of laugh and relief, salted with a “what the actual fuck”.

You want to stop and think of what’s happening or what’s to happen, but you never had the chance. It’s a second later, and you are being pressed against his, now, locked door. His arms holding your hips, his head resting on your neck, sulking your scent much like you do with his.

“You meant it, right?” He asks, bringing his face up to yours. “You want me to fuck you. Please, darling, say you do, because I need to fuck you now, or I’ll go crazy.”

“Yes, please, please.” Midway through your desperate nod, Nanami lunged at you, catching your lips in his and conducting the rhythm, the strength.

He was so, so good. In all ways. His slow fingers had your legs shaking and his eager kiss has your mind fogged. All that he does seems to be professional, but you know deep down, this effect is all because is made by him. Just his presence alone could have you hot and bothered, but to actually be touched by him, it’s like adding the fire to your gasoline self.

You had always been meant to be burned by Nanami.

He hoist you up against the door, for a quick second his hands kept clawing your thighs, until he walked you both to his desk. He let you down on it, and at the same time, his kisses moved to your neck and shoulder. You could feel the scrape of his teeth, tempted to mark you with a significant bite ── tell them I’m yours, you thought.

He groaned against your flustered skin, because he knew he couldn’t do that. Mark you, that’s it. Fuck you? Oh, that he can, that he will do.

“I need you to be really quiet for me.” His hands are quick on his belt, dropping it with a thud against the floor. He raises your skirt to your waist, Nanami grumbled under his breath with the sight of your underwear. He had touched the elaborate details earlier, but to see it was another story. White, see through, a pink ribbon on the top. “I’m going to rip it.”

“No, you’re not!” Raising your leg, you pushed him away. Eyes still hypnotized by your clothed cunt. You removed the piece with a satisfied smirk. It had been months since you started to wear those type of under-wears, hoping one day this situation would come.

No one wants to fuck their sexy boss with granny’s pants.

The cold table coming in contact with your intimacy made you moan a bit, and Nanami’s attention was back on you. There you were, beautifully waiting for him. Fuck-me eyes, pleading mouth, hands gripping the edge of the desk. You were at his mercy, had been for a while now. And he? Well, Nanami was yours now, that’s what matter.

One of his fingers, the same one he had penetrated you earlier, came back inside you. Smearing itself with your wetness. His other hand gripped your hips, bringing you closer, and making him go deeper. There, right fucking there. He curled, and thrusted, and another two more out of nowhere.

Cruelty was not on the way he was ravishing your cunt, but the biting of your teeth on your hand. You have to be quiet, follow his orders, but Nanami seemed to want to make you scream. Let everyone know that he is fucking you. Nearly fucking you.

Combining this movements with the ones of earlier, you feel your insides getting tighter. He senses as well, and raises his peace once more. But, again, your legs push him away. Nanami doesn’t like that, he comes back quick, wet fingers anxious to reclaim their place inside you, but you sign no, and he halts. That’s it. The man that controls everyone, and he is at your mercy.

“I want to cum on your cock.” Maybe is the sweet and diabolical way you say, or the tilting of your head with a charming smile. What matters is, he complies right away. His pants fall, he takes off his blazer, and not a second later you are presented with what you’ve been craving for months.

Like a pregnant lady, you almost cry and fall on your knees, finally having your desire attended. He doesn’t want that either, instead Nanami takes a condom from his wallet. Before he puts it, his waiting fingers touch your cunt again, grabbing a bit of your liquid and smearing it on himself. You nearly ask him to throw the condom away.

Is a sinful sight. All of this. You on the desk, legs wide open. He in front of you, adjusting himself on the condom. Both groaning when he, fucking finally, align with your entrance, and slowly gets in. He is largue, and thick, and preparation might have been necessary had you not been daydreaming of this moments months ago.

Had he not been himself, that man that makes you drip with just a “good morning”, this might have hurt. Instead, it’s exhilarating to be parted by his cock. The condom does not stop you from feeling his veins tickling your walls, or his tip finally setting near your cervix. That was fucking new. Pleasant and scary, and fucking welcome as well.

“Say it again,” He asks, hands on both your hips and eyes looking over yours. Waiting for the stars to fall over the two of you. “tell me to fuck you.”

“Fuck m──” He doesn’t wait for you to end before he removes himself, and going back with a gushing sound. You nearly scream out of pleasure, but in the last second, you bite your lips strong enough to draw some blood. “Mmh, you fucking a-asshole.” He snorts at that, before slapping your thigh.

Seems that Nanami can do all the noises he wants. He groans against your skin, head hanging low to stare at the way you pussy suck his dick in and out. You have always been a good girl ── his good girl. Taking all the he gave you. Mostly work related, and now his cock. You truly were made just for him.

“You feel so fucking good, baby.” A moan scapes your hands, and he doesn’t bother spanking your leg again. He called you baby, and you’re strangling his dick perfectly. You can shout at this point, he is pussy fucked.

Removing your hands from your mouth, you decide to do something much better than guarding your pleasure. Instead, you open his button-up blue shirt. A dream come through, is what this day will be remembered as. Specially now, where he lets you do as you pleases, and you have the sight of his pecks ── bronzed from a beach trip he took last week, and glistening with sweat for your recent activities. You moaned again, before going for it, and marking him.

Nanami allowed you to do so. He only cared about holding your hips and raise your lower body, so he could make you meet his thrusts halfway. He didn’t hold a care in the world about his groaning getting louder, or the burning on his neck and chest caused by your eager mouth and teeth. Fuck that. Fuck everyone. The only thing he truly wanted was to be inside of you forever. To be planted in this moment of his life, on loop, being marked by you, having his cock milked out by your dripping cunt. That’s what his life was made for.

Nanami Kento had this aura that made everyone scramble for him and his left-overs, as a way to keep close. To say they have something that once was his. Because everyone knew that Nanami was no one’s property. This moment, this fuck, this pussy proved that statement to be contraire ── he was yours. From the first day he saw you and specially one hour ago, when he had eaten your cookie and you told him to fuck you. He knew right then that he would shift the whole balance of the world to give you what you want.

And if that’s his aching cock, fucking be it. It’s yours. You’re taking it so good, and barely paying attention to it. He keeps bruising your cervix, and you respond with little whimpers and more bites. He quicken his peace, you close your legs around his waist, as if giving him more opening.

A perfect synchrony.

“Wan’ to cum.” You mumble just right after he senses your wall get tight.

“C’mon, baby, ugh, cum f’me.”

“Mmh, fuck, ngha.”

You do right after, going limp on his arms, he slow his thrusting with a snort and laying you down on the desk. He shuffles something by your dazed-self side, before he brings a black sharpie near your cleavage. He kisses and licks and sucks on it, before opening the pen with his mouth, and signing a straight line.

“How many more can you give me, pretty?” You don’t answer in words, but with more quiet whimpers, when his thrusts go back to pounding you in a maniac pace. He holds your neck down, leaning to kiss you through your beautiful moans.

You’re sensitive, he knows. Because you keep closing more and more around his length, trying to make him cum, unknown to you that it only makes you closer to coming again. You hit your head on the desk when trying to follow his departed lips, Nanami has your neck again on his mouth, tasting your sweat and lotion, and all you can give him. It’s only when he bites it slightly, you release yourself once more.

“Mmph, fuck, fuck, argh.”

Nanami keeps jerking his hips onto yours, not even having cum once. He takes pleasure in yours, you can see. With a proud smirk, he grabs the sharpie once more, but this time, he makes a diagonal line that touches the top of the first.

“Mhm──!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, baby. Just a bit more.” He cooed at you, sweet tone diverging from his animalistic movements.

You’re not complaining, not even regretting. So you keep yourself down and let Nanami control both of yours fun. He is ruthless in his pace and fantastic with his kisses, he doesn’t mind your moaning anymore, or the fact that everyone on your floor already knows. What can they do? Stop you? Nanami will rip everyone apart and just return to your pussy. Threaten him? No one would dare. He is still their sweetheart, their most sacred prize, beautiful and shinning to look at. Never to have.

“I’m, ugh, I’m yours.” He grunts.

This time, you sense a shift in his thrusts. So methodical now sloppy, and his cock kept twitching inside of you, sending more waves of pleasure to your core. Yes, fucking finally, he was near.

“All fucking m──mine.” You agreed with his words, grabbing the back of his neck and slamming your lips together. “I’m yours, always had been.”

Nanami can’t even control himself anymore. He groans and pants as he releases himself inside you. With a mist of swearing and praises you could barely decipher. After all, his own release had triggered yours.

When you both had come back from the high, Nanami raised himself from your chest, and kissed you, tongues intertwining, teeth clashing and biting. When he parted, leaving you breathless, he had then pen in his hand again. It touched your skin, once more, connecting from the bottom of his last line, going up straight.

It’s a “N”.

“You think we can spell my name?” He asks, leaving your inside to throw his condom out. He opens a drawer, where a box with more is presented.

“That would be more 17 fucks.” You support your weight on your elbows while counting.

“It’s that a no?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up your throat, before beckoning him closer. He does right away, kissing you hungrily once more. As if he is trying to record forever the taste of your mouth. He has your hair in his fists, pushing it back so he can go back to your, now, heavily marked neck.

“Let’s see how far can we go.” You indulge into his crazy erotic idea.

Nanami smiles triumphantly. He removes himself from your body, but doesn’t put condoms, instead, he falls on his knees, diving straight for your pussy.

Hours later, the sun beginning to set on the horizon, you leave his locked office with a smug smirk and timid eyes. Both accompanied by messy hair, flushed cheeks, marked neck and… “Nana” written on your chest.

“We’ll finish this later.” He comes behind you, closing his shirt, but letting the top buttons opened enough to catch a glimpse of your love marks on his chest. Specially the one with “Mine” marked in it.

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