#im enjoying this show more than i thought i would

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

i'd love to see more from the poly reader x poolverine verse im obsessed w them

"I didn't realize your... roommates were home today," Your sister said helping the youngest into his coat.

"It's what happens when you don't call," you caution. "They live here. You want free babysitting, you accept the terms. Sometimes it's kazoos. Sometimes it's roommates." For now, you'd accept her calling them roommates. It was partly true. And it was less rude than what your mother had said. She called them your caretakers.

Sarah narrowed her eyes at you and you shrugged, "They're fed and in one piece. And Zach has part of his social studies paper done. You're welcome."

She watched for a second as her boys willingly accepted hugs and kisses as you ignored her, beseeching them to learn something at school and make good choices and she sighed, "Thanks."

"Call next time," you tell her giving her a meaningful look. You didn't live alone anymore. And if she didn't want her kids exposed to certain things then she needed to give you enough lead time to hide those things... Today she got lucky.

________________

"Shhh," Wade said, holding up a hand, "You hear that?"

"Hear what?" Logan said opening a beer.

"Silence," Wade sighed, sinking on to the couch next to you, handing you a glass of wine. "Holy shit."

"And that's why I like being the cool Aunt," You tell him yawning. "I show up late. I bring presents. I leave before the crying starts. And then I enjoy my nice quiet house."

Logan snorted and reached over to rub your neck as he took your other side and picked up the remote, "Nice little racket, bub."

You take a sip from your glass and stretch, snuggling into Logan's side and putting your feet in Wade's lap, "Not too shabby, boys."

"For roommates," Wade teased, smacking the bottoms of your feet affectionately. "Didn't know roommates fuck like we fuck."

"Sorry-"

Logan grunted and wrapped his arm around you, "Pause was doin' some heavy lifting there."

"Mom... doesn't approve. What dad knows depends on the day. And I think my grandparents would just drop fucking dead. So. There's that." You lean over and lift a sleepy Mary into your lap and stroke her back before resting your head against Logn again. They are who they are and you are who you are. You don't fit in with the cookie cutter perfect family they have and you haven't from the second you took your first breath. But you fit here with a variant and a mercenary and their ugly little rat dog.

"We could ruin Christmas," Wade offered, "Just go make out in front of-"

"Or," you hum, "we can leave well enough alone so I can still hang out with the kids and let them have someone around that's somehow less fucked up even if I'm objectively a mess."

The boys traded a look and Logan kissed the top of your head. They'd work out the specifics later but for now, as long as your sister kept her comments to herself they'd behave- mostly. As long as it meant you got to see the kids. Because it was clear it made you happy, and because; truth be told, it hadn't been too bad today.

Wade cradled one of your feet in his hand and grinned, "I got a question."

"Might have and answer," you tell him, hissing when his thumb hit a tender spot on your instep.

"Why do all the rugrats call you, Shush?"

"My parent's housekeeper calls me Sugar," you answer. "Everyone sort of adopted it and Zach couldn't say it- so it devolved into Shush and stuck."

"Stop it, that's precious," Wade cooed, "I thought they called you that because they were always telling you to shut-"

"Not all of us went to school thinking our first name was Damn it," you snort.

Logan smirked and let go of you long enough to light his cigar. "What'd she call your sister?" he asked.

"Honey. Or Princess if she was being annoying... it's just that neither ever really stuck."

[gunsatthaphan]

“let me in.”

[sonknuxadow]

they werent lying that knuckles series barely has knuckles in it

[girlcrushau]

[timegears-moved]

are you serious? are you serious? are you serious? are you s

[pixpirs]

when people do "90s" anime style redraws and do the sailor moon style (aside from the fact other 90s anime existed and also had iconic styles but yk) they tend to use the same face over and over when the original show was actually pretty expressive with it's style, i feel like you could do a lot more than what ppl do with it. idk

[florenceisfalling]

like idk. i miss seeing content from s.igne (though i respect gab wholeheartedly). i miss fanart from my favorite artists. i miss older eras of j.se at times (and yes, there were older eras, the way people pretended he Never Changed is just weird). i miss old anti designs. i miss the old fic trends. i miss having a very active fandom (though i am so happy to see the new arrivals) and i miss seeing him interact with fans the way he did on tumblr back in the day. i miss the way i used to interact with some of the blogs here before i decided to fuckin,,, wage holy war and make enemies out of them (joking, but i have seen sides to some of these people that i wish i could tear out of my memory). i miss feeling confident that i could trust the good intentions of people here and even the big man himself (not god. that makes sean sound like god. you know what i mean). i miss when some of you weren't so fucking bitter which is funny because i'm the bitterest bitch alive. idk. i don't think it's bad to miss any of these things because i'm not going to be an ass and act like it's anybody's fault. i'm not going to be bothered by gab for being happy because i'm glad she is happy, and i'm not going to get bothered by sean taking a reasonable step back from this hellsite when people were cruel to him, and i'm not going to get mad at trends for changing because that is how time works. but i do miss things and i know its cringe and parasocial and perhaps even problematic but i hate having to pretend like i never have Any feelings about the past lest i break a hypothetical rule of what is the Normal level of attachment to an online community. okay. i think i'm done now.

[slippery-minghus]

oof. going to the gym today was the opposite of helpful for my pain levels. gah

[janumun]

A Practical Demonstration (LaDS Sylus - NSFW)

Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 9.8k Pairing: Sylus/Reader

Tags: size difference, oral and vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, mild mentions of stalking (not Sylus or Mephisto for once LOL), inexperienced (NOT virgin) reader, edging, drinking, [im]proper use of evol, explicit sexual content

Summary: When you end up disclosing a mortifying truth to Sylus about your dating life, deep in a drinking session; drowning yourself within a bottle — or three — of alcohol until you black out is the only option left to you to avoid that sharp, intuitive gaze for the rest of the night.  

That is, until Sylus throws a counter offer your way, one that sounds far too tempting to your scrabbled brain. Being the brilliant voice of reason you are tonight, you accept.  

[A fic where Sylus shows you exactly how good sex with a perceptive partner feels like when you confess your less than optimal dating experience.] 

Author’s Notes: Truly clown moment when I believed this fic would not exceed more than 4k words and yet again, here I am sitting on an almost 10k monster. I love what being horny for these men has done for my inspiration. Thank you so much to @chibamari for providing the prompt that birthed this fic. Already working on a religious desecration imagery angsty sex fic with Xavier and Queen MC, based on his first myth, as we speak.

The lingering remnants of your foiled meeting are muted with the press of rouged lips against the cusp of your cool glass, the liquor within, sliding easy down your throat with your fervent swallow.  

Placing it back down with a defeated sigh, you lean your arm against the counter, cradling your warming cheek against the crook of your palm.  

You never should’ve let Tara talk you into an impromptu date with a mutual acquaintance she’d considered ‘the perfect match’ for you; her giddy excitement and enthusiasm to get you a date had been too difficult to turn down. You cursed yourself underneath your breath at your inability to say no to those big, wide eyes and cheery smile; exactly the components that had saddled you deep into the disaster you’d considered that date to be — if it could be called as such.  

You’d excused yourself half-way through the man’s self-absorbed prattling — ruining the taste of the expensive steak in front, one you’d been wanting to try for ages — on excuse of an urgent mission coming up.  

A hand tucking your phone close to your ear, to reinforce your hasty lie while the other had slipped your card to your assigned waiter, making hasty work of settling your end of the bill. You’d swept up your coat and purse, striding out the lavish restaurant on swift-heeled steps before your sputtering date could so much as lift a hand in protest.  

Which is what had now landed you firmly in your current predicament, within the confines of a cosy, well-known bar, not too far from where you’d started.  

Nursing a budding headache within the bitter notes of alcohol, to help ease at long fraught nerves. In between the ever-looming threat of Wanderers and the obstructive wrench thrown into your investigation into the Ever group, along with how busy work usually kept you, you were exhausted, suffice to say. The insignificant man tonight had just been the icing on this long-ruined cake.  

Tara’s suggestion; to put yourself out more and ‘let loose’ for a bit, had ended in mild regret in going along with it, in the first place.  

It had been far too long since you’d been in a relationship — let alone enjoyed a date with a man; your professional obligations kept you busy, coupled along with an extremely low desire to invest yourself into the dating pool, to wade and weed through to one that matched your wavelength.  

A flash of an alluring garnet gaze sparks through your mind’s eye in passing, at the thought, one you physically shake yourself out of.  

Now there was a man entirely on the spectrum opposite to your frequency. Your inability to resonate with him had only been just one of many failures toward mutual understanding.  

“Another one for you, Miss?” The bartender inquires; you’re nodding before you can think it through. 

“Yes, thank—” 

“She’ll have a mojito instead. The usual for me.” A deep, rich voice drifts at your back — before it scotches down, involuntarily and low into your belly — just as the large hand you feel slip across your shoulder in greeting. You close your eyes against the intrusion, hoping the hazy apparitions of your mind would gift you a damn break just once tonight; as if having had him conjured out of mere musings. You shudder.  

The alluring man at your side does not dissipate as you’d direly wished, seating himself down onto the stool next to yours, completely at leisure at having snuck into your space, unannounced once more. You hated how infuriatingly easy the Onychinus head found himself able to pervade your every space, along with each of your thoughts — the latter of which you did not wish to dissect apart tonight. Or, ever, if you had the choice.  

“What are you thinking of, with such a severe frown on your face?” He speaks, as if he does not know the exact reason for your irritation. “You’ll put a permanent knot in there if you don’t stop.”  

You choose to ignore him in lieu of offering a resigned nod to the bartender for the order Sylus had placed on your behalf. You could use a less inebriating drink now, especially so if you were to deal with the man beside you. 

“What’re you doing here, Sylus?” You sigh against the dredges of your last drink, letting the bitter liquid warm your throat.  

“Has the alcohol numbed your memory as well, sweetheart? We had an appointment, did we not?” Your respective orders are deposited in front, just as he moves to take the drink in between long, tapered digits, bringing it up to his mouth for a taste.  

The slow drag of his Adam’s apple against his throat as he drinks, tugs your gaze towards it — an involuntarily reflex you aren’t able to control. Sylus’ scarlet gaze canting sideways to capture yours is what finally has you wrenching away from the delectable sight, cursing your fast settling inebriation for the mis-step.  

He was an attractive man, your mind had long made begrudging peace with the fact, even if you’d both started off on an extremely wrong — horrid, actually — foot. And he’d proven himself to be a reliable companion, when the two of you had caused waves within N109’s criminal hub, in a quest for the Aether Core. His side of the bargain he’d kept, in exchange for your deal to forge a steady resonation with him. One you had no thoughts of reneging on, you’d keep your promise to him for the massive aid he’d provided. And yet, you could not help bemoan the fact that this very man confounded you, to your very core, to the point you weren’t sure what to make of his intentions. And yours.  

But surely, you weren’t this physically deprived that Sylus of all people was beginning to sprout this visceral a reaction from you?  

“And I texted you I couldn’t make it tonight, sweetheart.” You quip, pinching your forehead in between thumb and index. “This really isn’t the time, Sylus.”  

He raises a careful brow at you, and God help you, even that gesture is incredibly beguiling to your slushed brain.  

“And you couldn’t make it because” he prompts, tapered digits drumming against the marbled countertop. “you wished to spend your time out here, dressed to the nines, in a party of one?”  

“So what if I wanted to?” All your prickly response earns you is a discerning gaze, zoned in on you. You exhale hard through your nose, shoulders steeling to utter your next words. “Oh alright, I had a blind date tonight.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re divulging something this private to the man. 

The way his brows shoots in simmering surprise before they bunch in at his forehead in a frown is almost comical, you would’ve snorted at the expression he’s pulling if not for his next words. “So that’s what had that imbecile out there on your trail, lingering at the door for.” He scoffs. “You may not have enjoyed your date but you certainly got yourself a love-struck fool nipping at your heels, kitten.” 

“Wait, what?” Bewilderment wars cold within your mind at the disgusting revelation of the man tonight having possibly followed you and Sylus having caught him dead in the act. “What did you do to him?”  

“It’s fascinating how your first assumption is that I did anything to him.” His pleasant chuckle curls within your ears; a low, throaty burr. And when you give him one of your own looks, “Alright, don’t look at me so. Mephisto presumed you had a far dangerous stalker on hand than that sorry bastard, when he saw him lurking about you.” He swirls his glass of whiskey in between casual fingers. “I gave him some cordial talking to and sent him on his merry way.”  

A million queries hurtle within your mind — what did his “cordial talking to” ensue exactly? Why had Mephisto been trailing you? Why did Sylus feel the need to step in and personally take care of your potential stalker?  

You reach to take a swig of your own glass, feeling that headache pinching once more at your brow. “I don’t appreciate you having your silly crow keep tabs on me, Sylus. But,” Reluctant gratitude stirs at the tip of your tongue as your mind slowly processes the situation at hand. If it hadn’t been for Sylus’ interfering ways, you might’ve been saddled with a problem far worse than the infuriatingly suave Onychinus leader on your hands tonight. “Thank you for taking care of that creep for me, I guess. I appreciate it?”  

You think you catch the strains of barely there surprise within his gaze, along with an amalgamation of emotions you aren’t able to parse before they’re shuttered out of sight. Replaced with a cool smile, he angles at you. “The alcohol has you honest for a change, kitten. I can’t say I dislike it.”  

That infuriating remark has you almost wanting to take back your thanks, almost.  

“Your engagement for the night has scurried off home with his tail in between his legs, leaving you to your celebration of one.” His touch is a flitting, warm caress against the shell of your ear as he folds a stray lock of hair back in place. “Are you going to say why you’re out here by your lonesome yet, furiously downing liquor, instead of back in the safety of your house?”  

A gibe sits sharp across your tongue at his probing, wanting to tell him to back off and out of your business, he had no reason to be asking whether you chose to go out on a date or throw yourself a self-wallowing party, to let loose for one damn night. You weren’t even sure why Sylus pricked at your nerves the way he did — riling you up in the manner he did. Each single touch, every look fraught with meaning. He did and went as he pleased, without a care for what people made of him; self-assured as if the world itself, he held, in between those devious fingers. And he probably did too, his reputation one of absolute power within N109 Zone and without.  

That very same man — the one who’d told you he’d make full use of you, as you did him — perched atop a bar stool by your side, asking you a question that seemed devoid of his usual ribbing. And perhaps, it’s because of that one sole thought that you find your mouth moving — or simply, because the alcohol has sniped your inhibitions. “Tara’s been on my case lately, insisting I need to get laid to blow off some stress.”  

“Oh? That hunter girl with the bob, the very eager one.” Sylus looks immensely amused; your mind sifts through memories to recall how exactly Sylus knew her before it clicks: ah, the company retreat you’d stumbled into Sylus a few weeks back at. How could you ever forget? The day had been a nightmare.  

“The very one,” you blink. “Hence the failed date tonight and my immeasurable disappointment.”  

“Why? Were you planning on sleeping with that loser?”  

You shake your head at him, horrified at the mere thought. “No, it actually went as well as I was expecting it to. Bad, that is.” You take another enthusiastic swig of your drink, a modicum of clarity returning to your stuffed head. “The sorry state of the dating pool at large, for a hunter with limited time on her hands isn’t exactly stellar. Even less so for men who know what they’re doing. And my luck in that regard seems particularly disastrous.”  

In hindsight, you knew you were word vomiting your thoughts out at this point, with way too much candour than was appropriate for the situation, you’d regret it tomorrow perhaps — no, most definitely. But at the moment, underneath the glazed pleasant bubble of alcohol loosening your tongue and the enticement of an extremely alluring man, who had his entire attention focused upon you, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.  

He huffs an amused half-laugh. “What sort of men have you been with exactly, kitten?” 

“Not that many.” You retort. “...Two and both during my schooling years, very briefly. I was a giddy teen, excited at the prospect of a loving boyfriend. Both their expectations from the relationship were obvious from a mile away, though.” You scrub a hand through the carefully primmed fall of your hair, not caring for the accessories you knocked askew. “God, I don’t think they even knew what to do with a woman, outside of getting their dicks wet.” You laugh at your own odd joke, tumbling within your brain.  

“It’s actually crazy how I’ve never had a man make me properly come in all my years—” Your words die within your throat at the realization of your horrifying admission.  

Surely, you’d thought them within your own mind and not just blurted your entire sob fest onto the man in front? A wretched sound of dismay leaves your throat at the inscrutable look upon Sylus’ face, shredding apart any sliver of hope you’d had that you had only been musing in thoughts.  

Gods, Tara was right, your idiotic self did need to get laid, you’d gone mad at long last. And made of yourself, a fool in front of the man you were begrudgingly attracted to. There was no coming out of this and you woed the fact that you’d even let yourself drink in the first place. 

“It does seem like your dating life has been rather disastrous up to this point.” Sylus responds, at last, insouciantly plucking his glass of whiskey off the counter for a swig, so at counterpoint to your rioting emotions.  

“Sylus.” 

“What is it?”  

You reach over, a hand securing about his broad shoulder, as you tip precariously close into the man’s space, plucking the glass straight out of his hands.  

“Hey—” Before darting back as far as you’re able, a feat Sylus did not think a woman even half-drunk was capable of.  

Taking a large gulp of the acridly strong liquor down your gullet, in a prayer to knock yourself out like you’d originally intended to before Sylus had walked in all over your small parade. Anything to blot your memory of the knowledge of your mortifying words to Sylus. But curling vines of red and obsidian are cleaving through your plans just as swift, one sliding about your waist to prevent your precipitous tilt upon the narrow stool while the other plucks the liquor clean out of your hands after a single pitiful swig.  

The swirls of misted red disappear just as furtively swift as they’d appeared once they have you righted upon the stool and out of harm’s way.  

A low sigh rings heavy above your head at your absurdity. “That’s enough. We’re leaving.”  

Affording you no room for feeble protests as he slips a cool palm around yours; long, thick fingers reassuring in between your own before he tows you away from the glittering inebriation of night life.  

Clarity from the merciful remnants of your intoxication is unwelcome tonight — like cool gunmetal pressed fast against your temple, siphoning the entirety of the alcoholic flush from your system. Having utterly failed at your attempts at getting hammered so you would’ve had at least an excuse to fake post drunken amnesia in the face of your shame tomorrow.  

Instead, here you were, deep within Zone N109 once more, incarcerated to the room Sylus had appointed temporarily as yours during your first visit to the place. One that had over time, turned into your housing and personal space, indefinitely, for whenever you happened to drop by on business with the Onychinus head. On business, you firmly reminded yourself. Even as the significance of the fact that Sylus had thought it fit to make space for you within his very own — his home — was not lost on you.  

You remembered trying to sweep a kick to the back of his shins, back at the bar, for having you bodily dragged out into the sobering night air and towards where his car awaited, parked by the curb.  

“Let go of me, you big brute.” Those vexing vines of red had curled about your leg mid-motion, tugging you up sharply before your world upended and you’d been tossed unceremoniously like a sodden sack of rice onto the broad expanse of one of his shoulders. You’d dug your nails into his back in punishing protest at his audacity.  

Earning yourself a derisive snort for your efforts. “Continue pawing at me like that and I’ll have you trussed next, kitten.”  

Your mouth had curled into a silent snarl, thumping futile fists against his solid back. “Try me.” 

“Don’t think I won’t.” He’d warned mildly before he’d continued on his merry way, wide stride that had barely faltered with your struggles.  

You sigh in defeat, scrubbing your palms down your face in recollection of the memory — your reflexive annoyance at his actions stemming more from your own mortifying situation than any real anger at him.  

He’d brought you back to his place, closer from where the bar was located, instead of back home, where the two of you risked running into any of your acquaintances, Xavier for one.  

And you couldn’t afford to let the people around you know of the Onychinus head — Sylus understood that instinctually, even if you did not speak of it. Content though he seemed to perpetually keep you in a state of life-threatening heart palpitations with his goading ways; absently recalling how Sylus had been Tara’s first man of choice for her date plan, owing to how he’d found it fit to barge in on their last team retreat.  

Shaking your head, you press a hand against your forehead as you move to wipe your body clean, having opted for one of the more comfortable outfits to change into for the night, you’d brought over from your place to his during one of your earlier visits — amusement sparking at you to witness how Sylus had thought it fit to buy you a couple new dresses, to add to your sparse collection, hanging within your wardrobe. As if you two were something more than acquaintances and professional partners.  

Your mind really seemed to have free reign over mad thoughts tonight.  

A knock resounds through the quiet of the room, effectively piercing your thoughts. “Are you done yet?” His familiar, welcome burr sounds from the other side of the door.  

“I am. Come on in.” The handle glides open, revealing Sylus standing in the doorway, having swiped his outerwear for a casual dark red button down, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the firm strength of his forearms; a sight you aren’t able to tear your ogling from, as he steps into the room. He closes the distance in between you in three easy strides. Crowding you within a room that feels too small and sweltering all of a sudden.  

“Feeling any better now?” His voice wrenches your gaze away from the sliver of skin revealed beneath the top two buttons of his shirt unfastened.  

You sigh, cursing at licentious thoughts. This man, in his incinerating, sensual entirety, frustrated you to no end. “I am, Sylus. Thank you.”  

“Good.” He hums. “Because you should stay awhile, a day or two at least.” 

“What? Why?” 

“I have to make sure that weasel you had tagged to you tonight doesn’t try getting too smart. Mephisto caught him lingering close to your streets after the whelp bolted following his wretched stalking attempt.”  

The revelation has nausea stirring at your gut; what had you gotten yourself into with that despicable creep? You were going to throttle Tara the next time you saw her.  

You sigh. “While that is disturbing behaviour and I’m grateful for the concern but I think I could’ve handled that idiot fine on my own.”  

A frown belts at his brow. “He’s a colleague from work, isn’t he? Despite his absolute spinelessness, that weasel is a trained Hunter with an authorized weapon on hand.”  

You raise a questioning brow at him, half inquisitive how exactly he knew your date happened to be a work acquaintance. Barely a few hours spent on his radar and the sorry fool already had all his information scraped and into the Onychinus head’s clutches. You did not envy his position, at the moment, massive creep though he was, having stood witness to how Sylus wiped his enemies clean out of existence. 

“Sure you’re capable, sweetheart, and your weasel is an idiot but do you want to be vigilant, glancing over your shoulder for a stalker, round the clock?” He pitches his head, waiting for your answer.  

His words give you pause, his reasoning not entirely without weightage. You mutter a quick curse underneath your breath, frustrated at how terribly disastrous tonight had turned out to be.  

Sylus’ smile quirks, taking your expletives for the affirmation they are. “And besides,” his hand shifts against your cheek, skimming a thumb down the curve of it, “you did enthusiastically mention your hazardous luck with dates. Might as well take care of this one before the vermin starts to fester.”  

A skitter of irked embarrassment bruises at your ego. “Are you making fun of me right now?” 

“Not in the slightest.” His thumb has switched towards your bottom lip, trekking a ghosting path across the swell of it. A different kind of emotion spurts within your chest along with the simmering annoyance, at his testing touch. “On the contrary, I was going to make an offer, one of mutual benefit.” His voice skims an octave lower and scotches deeper into your belly. “What do you say? Would you like to hear it?” 

His searing touch drifts down your chin, sweeping against your jaw. You’re unsure of the mesh of emotions that are surging through you at his evocative touch; indignation, surprise, reluctance... desire. You can barely focus on the words issuing from his mouth.  

“Well?” He prompts. “I don’t recall taping your mouth shut, sweetie.” His thumb returns to caress a path across your parted lips as if to make a point; a hushed throaty laugh leaving him at the hitch of breath that action elicits. He knows what he’s doing to you and he’s rousing you on purpose; the absolute scoundrel.  

“What’re you trying to say? Speak clearly, Sylus.” Your tongue darts forth to lap a quick path across the bottom of your lip; Sylus’ gaze rolling down your face to settle at your mouth when you do, a sudden simmer of heat flaring within blood-red.  “I despise riddles.” Another deep chuckle issues from his mouth, one that stirs into your belly without permission, much like the man himself.   

“What was it that you said earlier?” The tip of his thumb edges just past your lips. “Ah yes... you’ve never had a man make you come.”  

You flush at the recollection, cursing yourself for the umpteenth time tonight. You’d made a terrible mistake and you swore you’d never drink again, if it meant Sylus would just fucking drop it. Or you would, and the ground would swallow you whole. You’d confided a mortifying secret within a man who confounded you to no end.  

“So what?” A challenging grimace drags at your face, just as you sink a bite into his invading digit, hard. He does not so much as even flinch, his smile tugging wider instead. 

“What a spirited kitten I’ve lured into my hands.” He muses. “I like the face you’re making right now.”  

His eyes crinkle in at the corners, a mild thread of tenderness you think you catch streak through the simmering heat of his garnet gaze. It makes you want to turn away from the look, not wanting him to scrabble your heart any more than he has.  

“No,” A tapered index and thumb curve about your chin, firmly tempting your gaze back to him. “Don’t look away, keep your eyes on me.” 

And for that one instant, you listen. “My proposition is earnest, sweetie. Despite what your consensus may be, I’m quite fond of you, more so than you think.” Your breath snags in your throat at the admission; you’d be blind to not catch the clear insinuation in his words.  

His mouth skews into a smile. “Would you be averse to the idea of me showing you how it’s done?” He swipes at the swell of your bottom lip, his voice several octaves lower. Yes?” A sensual caress in the opposing direction. “No?” Your eyes flitter in hooded desire at the allure of his rich voice, scotching low into your belly to pool in between your clenched legs. 

You take a moment to inhale, slow, processing his words. Reaching a hand out to trace careful fingers against the strength of his jaw. “Do you realize the weight of what you’re implying, Sylus?” An inane question by all means. You’ve never known a man more self-assured in what he desires; you admit it’s rather arousing. 

“Oh, I do.” The distracting curve of his smirk pulls wider. “But do you, sweetheart?”  

Your fingers leave his face to drift across the open collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “You’ve been lodged in my mind for a long time.” You allow him a moment of that infuriating self-pleased smile. “Even without that pesky Evol of yours invading my skull.” Before you’re fisting his collar to rise on the tips of your toes to press your lips hard against that irksome, delicious mouth. 

Sylus’ hands curve about the give of your waist, fitting you firmer against the hard planes of him, without hesitance. He allows you free reign for a while before he chases your retreating mouth with his own, not sparing a moment of reprieve for the hungering breath you try and draw back into your lungs. His tongue slipping past your lips instead, granting you a taste and breath of what he alone affords you in that moment.  

Your hand flies to grip about the base of his neck, appreciating the firm musculature of his upper back that flexes beneath your touch when he moves to snare an arm about your waist. Fingers sinking harsh into your hip as he grinds you impossibly close to his body, siphoning the rest of your breath from your lungs.  

You’re near dizzy with the way his tongue licks into your mouth, tip teasing its way across the roof before it withdraws to slick a path against your wet bottom lip. You insist your grip harder against the back of his neck, dragging him back to you in the swelling smile he presses against your damp sighs — the drench of them flaming across your chest to pool low into your belly and settle deep in between your legs.  

Sylus lets out a low grunt against your skin — a sound that has your insides clenching in on desire — before his clutch upon the flare of your hip tightens, hand curving downwards about the swell of your ass before he lifts you up entirely on the strength of one firm muscled arm. The whimper you’re unable to tamp even against the aggression of his mouth, at his show of unrestrained desire.  

“Hold on tight now, sweetie.” He murmurs, sultry, against your lips. 

Sylus strides you both further into the room without breaking your kiss, the corded strength of his arm sturdy beneath your ass and you take that moment to appreciate what the position allows you access to, fully. Covetous fingers you run through the hair at the base of his neck to tug him into the kiss as you wish — his rewarding grunt in answer, warming your belly — against your mouth.  

Rushing down the buttoned line of his shirt, making quick work of undoing more of his buttons. A hand you slip past the edges of his shirt once the cloth against his chest is no longer impeding you, caressing your fingers against the hard planes of his pectorals. Sylus’ chuckle reverberates deep within your mouth, your fingers flexing into his shoulder at the sound. “Someone’s eager.”  

He stops at your bedside before he tosses you back onto the soft of your sheets. Not giving you the chance to even hoist yourself up on your arms before he’s towering over your body — crowded against his large frame.  

Chest heaving from the earlier stretch of your kisses and how he’d hurled you back onto the bed, you press a halting hand against his torso, playing at the lower buttons you weren’t able to undo earlier. Making hasty work of your remaining task before your fingers slide in welcome against the defined warmth of his abdomen.  

Your mouth parts in breathless wonder, eyes drinking him in voracious need, before they slip lower towards the straining length of his arousal through the placket of his pants — a sizeable bulge visible even through the pitch-black material. “Like you’re one to talk about being eager.” you quip, inquisitive digits dipping lower to ghost across the clothed length of him.  

His breath deepens at the touch, a thick chuckle slipping past his lips. “Point taken.” 

Your hand slips to curve against the swell of his cock above cloth, once more, feeling for the shape of him; larger than any you’ve had before, it sets a flitter of nervous anticipation into your chest. You want to see it, him.  

Sylus cocks his head at your inquisitive touches but doesn’t move to stop when your fingers work at the confines of his pants, until his arousal is far prominent beneath the remaining layer of his briefs. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight — he truly is big. Rather intimidating, entirely exciting.  

“Having fun?” He inquires, capturing your fingers in between long, tapered digits to bring them up to his mouth in a brushing kiss, a keen garnet gaze that refuses to relent from yours.  

“Yes,” you answer honestly.  

“That’s a good start.” He hums. “My turn.”  

Red and obsidian spiral about the length of your body, toying at the straps of your camisole, the edges of it at your belly before they’re dragging the material up across your body, and with the reveal of skin, Sylus’ eyes follow; the serrated intensity of his heated gaze, enough to have you try to squeeze your legs together on instinct to relieve some of the overbearing burn in between them.  

You can feel how mortifyingly wet you are, and yet in that moment, your mind cannot seem to muster shame.  

His thick fingers trail next across the waistband of your shorts — vined red making quick work of the ribboned bindings of the silken material before Sylus’ thumbs hook on either side, to drag your shorts and panties, torturously slow, down the plush of your thighs in one go.  

He’s hunching over to overshadow you entirely before you can make sense of it, face sinking close into the space in between your legs, hot gaze drinking in the sight of the thin strings of arousal that stretch from your pussy to your underwear before they bow and break into the sheets beneath. You watch him hum his approval, your head raised to observe the erotic picture he paints, in between your legs.  

A moan scratches free of your throat, your head falling back in shuddered pleasure when Sylus does not waste a single moment in ruining you; the broad pressure of his tongue you feel against the length of your quivering cunt as he swipes up a taste for himself before withdrawing once more.  

“Sylus.” You protest, fingers rushing to catch at his hair to pull.  

His gravelly laughter is devious against the inside of your thigh — so close to where you want him. “That’s a beautiful sound you’re making there, kitten.” He blows a hot breath against your centre, your pussy spasming at that bare action. “Let’s see if you’ve got any more of those for me.” 

“Sylus.” You try and let the irritation ring in your tone this time but all it sounds to your ears is a licentious plead.  

“I hear you, sweetheart.” He pulses a kiss against your outer folds. “I made you a deal, didn’t I?” He wrests his now loose shirt off his body before his touch returns to you once more, this time without the barrier of clothes in between you both.  

You're entirely vulnerable and naked underneath him, held to his mercies as his forearms flex about the pliance of your thighs as he hooks them about his broad shoulders. “You’re going to let me make good on my word tonight,” your legs spasm against his back — useless — as he keeps them held within steeled grips at your knees; large fingers sinking deep into the soft flesh. “and witness it too, with your entire body.”  

You feel the corded, hard strength of the muscles of his back flexing beneath the heels of your feet as Sylus ducks closer to your slit to suck at the pleasured bead of your apex. Your hips fly up on instinct at that first brush of stimulation, a moan crippled free of your lips. His smug smile you feel buried against your pussy when it gushes further against the skewed stretch of those lips.  “And you know I never renege on an agreement once made.” 

Your thoughts blank entirely the next time that adroit tongue lands against your drenched folds, his mouth swallowing you up entirely as he works at your slick with all the practised propensity of a devil set to wrecking you within your sheets.  

You’ve never had a man’s mouth down there before; you didn’t quite think it were possible to feel anything remotely close to what he was doing with your body at the moment.  

Sparks of jolting pleasure thrum throughout the length of your body, you’re not even fully aware of how hard you buck against his mouth. How Sylus thwarts each unconscious attempt of escape by dragging your pussy back to his mouth each time you squirm from the overwhelming sensation.  

His growl of pleasure is what drags part of your hazy attentions back to how white knuckled your grip is within his hair, tugging at the strands as if they were your sole lifeline to sanity. And you were beginning to suspect they were.  

Sylus’ knuckles brush against your tightened clit, knocking a groan of pleasure out of your throat. “You’re so wet.” He hooks a thick, tapered index up into your walls, clenching at his filthy words. “That’s it, sweetheart, keep doing that for me.” His laughter is a deep, hoarse sound. “I’m going to take all you’ve got for me.”  

He laps a path up against the junction of your thigh; a second finger teasing at the rim of your slit before it joins the first, in a slick easy slide.  

“Sylus,” You’re no longer caring; to your sounds, to the fact you’re dripping enough you’ve wet the sheets beneath his thrusting fingers. “Oh God, don’t stop. O-oh. God.” Not caring for the slight twinge of heat that sparks with the roll of your head to catch Sylus watching your entire downfall from in between the space of your legs; fervid scarlet gaze fixated to yours, the bow of your mouth in a constant, pleasured O curve as moans of senseless appreciation and babbled curses tumble from it. Even as his tongue laps a languid path against your outer folds, at screeching odds to the deft fingers he works into you.  

“Yes,” his growl is vehement, pleased. “Scream louder, no one’s going to hear you mewl down here, kitten. Let go.” The squelch of your arousal is loud within your ears, the pads of his terrifyingly nimble digits lighting up nerves against that one spongy spot deep within you that has stars wheeling within your wide gaze.  

And just as you think this is how he’s going to end you — the pinnacle of pleasure — he betrays your expectations once more with the hot slide of his tongue back against your clit. You nearly sob at the stimulation, a silent scream clawing up your bruised throat at how close you feel to breaking.  

“I-If you—” your words are garbled, hard to breathe. You're so, so close to a peak you’ve never fallen off of, in this manner before. “—I’m... hah, going to come.” Never had your own toys or hand or even another human, scrabbled your brains out this hard; a height so vehemently approaching, you’re afraid to fall. 

Sylus seems to understand you even through your incoherent babbling, stretching you open on his fingers in harder thrusts. “Then do it. Come on my tongue, darling.”  His mouth sucks the abused flesh of your clit deep into his mouth. A peak so in sight, you hurtle into it, your pussy spasming about his fingers, his mouth so hard, you’re near thrashing your limbs about the broad strength of his shoulders. Sylus creeps a hand beneath your ass, to lift your back and shove up deeper against his mouth as you sob out his name in senseless prayer.  

“That’s it, you’re so hot like this, you know that, kitten?” His guttural words, muted within your pussy and lost through the white daze of your prolonged orgasmic haze. Sylus continues to lap at you until you’re tumbling into buzzing overstimulation; the heavy weight of him like iron fetters at your legs as you weakly push at his face, his steeled shoulders in whimpered protest.  

“I— give me a break, Sylus.”  

He affords you a modicum of mercy, glistening mouth and chin withdrawing to rise from between the confines of your legs to fix a skewed grin at you. And when you meet his gaze, he makes a deliberate, erotic show of sweeping the broad of his tongue, slow, feral, against the edge of his upper lip.  

His fingers maintain their languid position still within your sensitive walls, each measured thrust has you shivering against the intrusion.  

You cup a hand about his strong neck, dragging him down towards your mouth. His voice low, heated in between the taste of yourself he sweeps into your mouth. “Enjoying yourself?” 

You secrete a hushed sound of approval against his exploring tongue. “I’ve never come this hard in my life,” you confess, breathless. “You’re crazy.”  

“I’ll take that as an enthusiastic compliment.” Knocking that smug grin of his only wider. And then, a softer whisper settles against your wet mouth. “You’re so good for me, sweetie. You drive me insane.”  

You withdraw from him to catch the simmering heat of his fervid desires and affection commingled within that scarlet gaze you’re so taken with. Sweeping a thumb at the clinging wetness of arousal, against the angle of his jaw, you marvel at the sensual sight he paints. “...I’m no different.” You meet his gaze, your honesty heavy on your tongue. 

He chuckles at the confession, canting his head to catch the plush of your thumb against his teeth, worrying at the flesh as he laves it up into his mouth on an obscene suck.  

The way he looks at you has arousal flushing anew within your cheeks; your insides clenching in on the fingers that languorously thrust into you, stretching you open. Lashes nearly trembling shut when his thumb traces a whispered touch against your clit before withdrawing, having your hips juddering up into his hand.  

Restless digits quiver down the length of his sculpted torso, working at releasing him from the rest of his un-wanted clothing; cut, well-tailored pants you’d more than once found yourself admiring him in but at the moment, you couldn’t survive a second longer without uncovering the entirety of his captivating body to your gaze. Sylus gently pulls out of your pussy to help you along, thick fingers running along yours at his buckle to slide is smooth out its confines before his Evol curls about the belt to toss it easy, at the side of his bed. His pants and briefs follow soon after and you nearly choke at the sight of him revealed at last to your gaze. 

Sylus’ cock is a devastating thing of beauty; thick and intimidating enough it has you salivating at the mere sight of it. You’ve never seen a man this big, blessed in both length and girth, it has your cunt clenching in on need at the sight of him. You wonder how he’d feel against your tongue if you tried taking him in, parched lips you wet with a swipe of tongue, parting at the thought.  

“Like what you see?” His self-pleased words wrench you out of your self-imposed stupor until you see that smug grin painting his face too. Your fingers delicately curve about the girth of him in a gentle squeeze; has grin falling open in a low, breathy laugh of arousal.  

Your fingers unable to wrap him up entirely within a fist, even as you stroke a slow, steady path up across his length. “You’re right,” you murmur in wanton desire. “I do like what I see.”  

“Such an honest tongue.” he groans low, in pleasure at your languid ministrations. Hooking a thumb at your bottom lip to tease it into your mouth and onto the wet muscle.  

“Honesty isn’t the only thing it can provide, you know.” You bait, in breathless, risqué whispers around the intrusion of his thumb in your mouth, sucking at him in imitation of what you truly desire from him. 

Sylus hums a pleased sound, withdrawing his finger to sweep it across your swollen lips. “Later.” He silences your protests with the wet ingress of his digits back into your walls. “You’ll have me, you have my word. But right now...” Your broken moan mingles with the guttural sigh that tumbles from his lips to witness your face shatter in pleasure. “we’re here to see how good I can make you feel, aren’t we, kitten? So, lay back.” He eases the flat of his palm in between your breasts to push. “And watch how else I ruin you tonight.” 

You moan at his filthy threat of a promise, hips rolling into the fingers he’s pressed into you, their rhythmic propulsions turning faster with each moment until he has your crest building once more. 

“Sylus.” you gasp out, fingers spasming around the wrist buried in between your quaking legs. 

“What do you need, sweetheart?” He draws down closer, body crowding yours against the sheets, the heat of his breath sultry against your sweat soaked skin. You feel the weight of his arousal ghost a searing path against your thigh and jump at the stimulation. 

“You.” you plead. “I need you so stop teasing me now, Sylus. I’ll—” 

His lips capture yours in an incendiary kiss, a violent clash of tongue, drinking your startled mewls up into his own as his fingers curl about the back of your head to hold steady underneath his assault. “You sure you’re ready for it?” He rolls his hips against yours once more in emphasis, making you shiver underneath the intimidating heat of his arousal. 

“I am, I can take it.” you insist against his wet tongue. “And even if I can’t, you promised you’d show me how good it can get, didn’t you?” You shiver. “So quit edging me any longer and put it inside me.” Your back arches in need at a particularly adept press of his fingers. “Sylus.” 

His answering groan at your fervent desires burns you higher, his soaked fingers dragging out of your clenching walls. “You really do know how to rile me up, don’t you, sweetheart?” Large hands settle about the swell of your hips as Sylus presses himself in between your legs. Letting the head of his cock, at long last, stroke at the wetness of your cunt, gathering moisture on to it. So close. 

His hips undulate in languid pleasurable strokes in between the fall of your legs, and each time the flared head of his cock bumps up at the tight bead at your apex, your hips try and jump against the caged strength of his hands holding you down. Every single stroke — up, down — has your breaths turning laboured in need, each single time he brushes down close to your hole, you clench in on instinctual emptiness, wanting to pull him deeper into you.  

“Some restraint, kitten. We don’t want you too overwhelmed too fast.” A low sound of disapproval soughs past his lips at your squirming. “Impatience is not a good look on a Hunter of your repute.” 

Your mouth falls open on a silent groan; hooking a leg about the snatch of his waist, you try and urge him into you. Earning an amused, guttural laugh for your efforts. “You’ve had me plenty ready. You’re just baiting me at this point.” 

“But you like me being this way, don’t you?” And God help you, if your brain wasn’t entirely mushed at what he’s done to you, you would’ve tried refute his observations with a lie of your own. But in this moment, you let him have his victory.  

Sylus curves a palm about the crook of your leg, fingers ghosting the underside of sensitive skin, up, until his hold catches at your knee. Keeping you fixed firm down onto the bed with the other, while he rolls his hips against you once more. “Keep holding tight,” he taps at your knee hooked at his back one last time before his hand drifts to curl about the base of his cock, pressing more of your slick up against the bulbous head.  

The first breach of him burns you open in pleasurable bliss, you hiss at the intrusion, back arching on instinctual chase of the man you’re so drunk on. Just the head in has you dizzy around him, grateful for the anchor of his large hand holding you grounded, at your hip.  

More of his member pushes past your rim; Sylus’ grunt of pleasure breaking in the tight scrunch of his brow in concentration. A thumb flits about your pinched bottom lip, end to end, before he’s coaxing it open with a firmer press of the pad of his digit against it. “Breathe for me, sweetheart.” You don’t think your body is capable of drawing air in at all but you try and trudge past the closure of your throat, gulping in a few, needed breaths. “That’s it, yeah, take me in. Slowly now.”  

It’s only when your body shudders underneath his with the ingress of almost his entire length settled into you do you realize the sheer, unyielding size of him inside, Sylus’ throaty groan of arousal, he bites into the sensitive skin of your wrist he’s had curled in between thick digits. Your cunt feels stretched impossibly wide around the shape of him, in a manner that has you whimpering on his next few testing strokes up into your walls. Sending him curling impossibly deep on each long, heavy thrust up into you until you feel him nudging, as if at the very ends of you.  

Your head rolls in restless need across the down of your pillows, your fingers skittering up the length of his arms, sinking harsh into the taut muscles of his biceps. Angry crescents you’re sure you’re marking into the skin but all it seems to do to him is make him push into you with greater need, approval heavy in the fervid grunts that issue from his mouth.  

One of his hands steals beneath your body to press in between your shoulder blades, guiding your body deeper against his as his hips piston into you. The wet squelch of your arousal heavy in the space, commingling with your damp, thick groans.  

Sylus withdraws from your body on his next slide, nearly all the way out, before he pulses back, slick, without resistance; each time, your body taken by the pleasant shock of how fully he sheathes himself into you, the stretch sending you into a dizzying spiral of mounting need.

And despite it all —  the hazy pleasure, his long, deep strokes into you — your ravenous body needs this man closer, a desire you aren’t able to word coherently. 

Sylus’ diligent handling of you — although, a gesture appreciated — is not what you require of him in the moment. He’s your first in so, so long; desires shuttered in since forever, along with the intense need to be thoroughly loved over by this man; your need to have him fuck you without restraint, after a heart so long spent in warring against its yearning for him, overflowing off the cusp of your poor control. Manifesting in the fingers you rush about the angled cut of his hips to squeeze, your legs tightening their hold at the back of his waist to pull deeper inside.  

Your eyes meet his in fevered haze; a slip of your tongue to drench parched lips, falling open to voice your desires before Sylus’ face crowds your vision. His mouth pulsing a quick kiss of violence against yours, it siphons your entire breath from your lungs at the aggressive curl of his tongue into you. “Alright,” he utters on a wet, hoarse whisper against your lips. No more questions, no more unsurety. “I’ll give you what you need.”  

He’s gingerly worked himself into you up to the near base of him when large hands move to grip on either side of your abdomen, the pads of them pulsing into the pliance of your skin — heated scaffoldings of flesh. Heralding the slow, squelching withdrawal of his cock from your depths up to the tip. Until Sylus plunges back into you with a force vehement enough you see stars white the scape of your vision with the audible slap of hips meeting the back of your ass.  

And it isn’t until he starts driving into you in that punishing pace, manoeuvring your body as if you were a mere doll meant to house his cock do you realize with primal joy that you love how he’s taking you. You’re delirious on the feeling of his cock ramming up into your walls — the massive stretch of him, each single inch of hot, unyielding flesh — hard enough he’s driving you up the sheets, your voice you do not realize is a shrill scream of pleasure.  

Everything — you, him, your hot, clenching insides around him — is all too much, all of a sudden, you’re drowning in the ecstasy of the feeling of him overwhelming your senses.  

And the man above, an unfettered beast; he folds you deeper into the mattress with the ardent swing of his hips, large hands gripping hard onto your waist as he guides your own weak thrusts back onto his cock with ferocious precision. Each single glide of the swollen head of his cock dragging him deliciously against that one spot inside that has you quivering apart around him. A deliberate assault of your sweet weakness. Truly, he knows your body as if he’d had you before several times already; the thought is as exhilarating as it is terrifying, having your pussy spasm around him on instinct, dragging a vicious growl out of him that has you whimpering at the sound.  

The sweat slicked concentration and fervid arousal that knits at his powerful brows is addictive, the heated flush of pleasure and effortless exertion — all of him an erotic sight, meant to throttle you into finishing ruin. The violent tatters of your orgasm you feel crumpling within your belly, fast approaching.  

You try and buck against his hips faster, pace paling in comparison to the near bestial propulsion of his cock into your depths. Sylus groans at a particularly harsh squeeze of your cunt; a hand leaving your waist to feather his knuckles against the drenched slide of sweat and tears at your cheeks you know are ruddy in desire. “You’re taking me so well, kitten, so deep inside that small body.” You might’ve offered a word of approval if your throat wasn’t so swollen from the breathless moans and ruinous pleas he’s knocking out of you instead. “You’re clamping so hard around my cock. Do you not want to let me go?” His large hand drifting against the lower stretch of your abdomen, before he presses the flat of his palm in deep, as if he could feel for the place his cock pounds up as if against your very womb, angling his hips to brush at the sensitive bundle of nerves at your apex and you nearly weep at the tight stimulation.  

“C-Clo—” is all the words your battered throat can manage out before your head’s falling back against the pillows, tear-strained gaze blown wide with the unrelenting intensity of his pillage of your body.  

But Sylus groans in approval, understanding of your broken prompts. “I’ve got you. Let that pretty pussy of yours weep more for me, sweetheart.” 

You moan unabated at the filth that issues from his lips, your body immediately moving to obey his instruction in the spasm of your walls.  

His hand slides against the length of your hooked leg to hoist it up and over a broad shoulder as his large frame arches over you, nearly folding you in half. The new angle driving each of his wild thrusts hard against your swollen clit. Your back nearly snapping with the force of its curve up towards him with your next shrill scream of his name. “What a perfect, perfect girl for me.”  

You're no longer coherent, a garbled speech and cotton head your constant companions — only dimly aware of the muted sounds of wood striking against concrete walls as Sylus drives your body violently up against the headboard. The distant absence of pain you only realize is possible when your cheek curls sideways to sink against the simmering warmth of the red and obsidian mesh of his Evol, keeping your head pillowed against the strength of his thrusts.  

His face descends towards you, a thick hand easing beneath sweat soaked locks to grip at your neck, holding firm for the ravenous mouth that plunders yours, choking your moans against his tongue. Your spit trails useless past swollen lips, Sylus’ tongue immediately following a broad path against your jaw, your chin to lick at the combined essence of sweat and spit. His guttural moan at the taste, sending you nearly into your orgasm, so close at hand, you’re spasming useless about the great length of him. 

Long, tapered digits flex about the delicate expanse of your neck, coaxing your pleasure-drunk gaze up towards his.  “The way you’re looking right now...” You catch the flex of his other arm at the corners of your vision as it slinks in between your bodies. “a man could get addicted, sweetie.” His thumb presses against the abused bead of your apex in that instant, knocking a scream free of your parched throat, body arching in the slick slide of your breasts pressed flush against the broad planes of his chest. Even that stimulation at your nipples is too much; the heat in between your legs tempered to an inferno.  

The precise, perfect strikes of his cock into your walls, along with the insistent pinch and press of your clit in between adroit index and thumb has your crest rising. White hot heat undulates through your entire body. The merciless sting of a delicious bite you feel Sylus sink at your straining neck, right beneath your jaw, “Come for me now, sweetheart,” accompanying the hammering thrusts of his cock, his thumb at your bundle of nerves is what finally has you ripping apart on an orgasm so intense your gaze blanks entirely.  

Jaw falling open on a shriek so unlike yours, you do not recognize the sound of your own battered voice until Sylus presses two thick digits into your slack mouth to toy at your wet tongue as if he could capture that sound for himself. “You’re so damn beautiful.” His pace unrelenting through the violence of your orgasm, stretching your own peak so long, spasming about the wet heat of him until Sylus’ hips too stutter as he finds his release into your welcoming depths.  

Pulse after pulse of ejaculate so abundant, hot, it drives you into another release — or perhaps, you’d never even stopped coming — a pinnacle so high, your fall from it is prolonged, pleasurable. Your mouth sucking hard at his fingers, willing them to serve your anchor.  

Sylus’ gaze meets yours from across the small pocket of space in between your faces, heated and stifled with your breaths. Scarlet eyes, simmering, pupils blown so wide in low settling arousal as the two of you breathe deep in unison. Several moments of reprieve, you allow your bodies as you come down from your highs.  

A small part of you distantly realizes a single session with Sylus has effectively ruined you for life and you’re unsure if you’re bemoaning the fact or thrilling in delight at it. You think you just might be far more infatuated with this infuriating man than you’d initially thought and the notion of being this adoring of him mildly terrifies you. Just as the sliver of tenderness that threads through that garnet gaze as he pushes back sweat soaked strands from your face to study you. “You alright there, sweetie?”  

You can’t deny it any longer. “Never been better.” you wheeze past a sore throat. And God help you, the grin that skews at his beautiful mouth at your answer has your heart refusing to settle into rest, even after your mind-numbing release.  

“That good, was it?” You do not have the energy to refute him, settling for a light slap at his bicep. 

His arms flex about your body before he rolls you both over. Releasing himself, slow, from your depths — you groan weakly at the muted stimulation before he hoists himself onto his arm.  

You reach a hand forwards, curving it about his face, thumb sketching at the angle of his jaw. “Stay with me tonight.” you ask of him quietly.  

Mild surprise flickers within blood-red garnet before it’s replaced by the tender quirk of a strong brow. “Didn’t plan on leaving, sweetheart.” He tips his head further into the crook of your palm, pulsing a quick kiss onto the skin. “Sleep tight, now. Your eyes are glazing over.” 

And for that one moment, you listen, letting the warmth of his engulfing embrace shepherd you into dreams of scarlet eyes and amused smiles — the only ones you’ve been able to think about for a long time now. 

End Notes: Tagging as requested: @samanthagnicole , @catboi-anon , @bitches4lifebro , @beebumbo , @hellinistical , @chocomii-chan

If you’d like to be tagged in my future stories, you can fill this short form here. If you’d like to be removed, shoot me a DM!

You can also find me on Ao3 and twitter, if you’d like to chat or just squeal with me about hot characters, in general.

[byuntrash101]

still your biggest fan. – 송민기.

SYNOPSIS. your boyfriend is on the other side of the globe touring. somehow you fear the cheers of the fans will make him forget about you. so you decide to remind him you are still and will always be his biggest fan

or in which you find a novel way to use your lightstick and send the video to your beloved bf.

mingi x f!reader, smut, mdni

tags. etablished relationship, facetime sex, masturbation (f & m), BLACK UNDERCUT MINGI (!!!!!!!!), jealous + slightly possessive reader, but mingi reassures her (awwww), use of (unconventional) toys (wink wonk im insane pls stop me), pet names, multiple orgasms (f), praises, squirting. wc. 2k

a/n. this mingi has me feral and the concert videos got me in a chokehold. and it's only the first date i need help. also shout out to that one video of yungi saying they use the lightstick to "relax" at night. not proofread.

There was one thing that was absolutely certain about Mingi: that man loved attention. That man lived for the roars of the crowd. When he danced, he was electrified by the cheers of the fans. And you knew your boyfriend was made to be on stage. He enjoyed the attention of fans, hence the fact he was constantly body rolling, hip thrusting and tongue poking. He loved to see the thousands of people thirst for him, he loved looking at all the concert videos all over the internet. He laughed and giggled at the tiktok edits, at the twitter threads, at every comment more over the top than the next.

Usually you don’t mind, you even enjoy them too. You like seeing him happy and fulfilled in his job but today maybe you’re a little insecure. He just flew out to start the American leg of the tour and you’re left behind in this bed that seems so empty. You fear somehow the loud cheers will make him forget about you. You don’t want that. You want to remind him. You want to make sure that today when he goes to sleep the last thing he sees is you. 

You looked at the time, your eyes darted to the digital clock on your night stand. At this time he was probably already at the hotel. It was pretty late for you but you wanted to send him a little treat, you knew how Mingi loved when you sent him videos of you playing with yourself and today you might add a little twist. 

You didn’t have much time if you wanted him to see the video before he slept…

***

Mingi was spent, true. But he was still pumped full of adrenaline when he stepped out of the shower with the ends of his raven black hair wet, the longer strands of his undercut dripping down. He didn’t even bother stepping into his pajamas, the AC was off and this part of the world in July was pretty hot. 

He tucked himself in bed, still wide awake. He looked at his phone, a text from you from several hours ago when you went to bed. You were probably sleeping right now. He debated responding, fearing he would wake you. But he pictures you pouting when you’d wake up in a few hours without a response from him and he couldn’t bear to make you feel that way so he typed a quick answer. 

🎀 princess #2: hope the show goes well (ik it will because you gonna kill it cause you the best😌). i lob you. you know that right? dont forget about me ok? <33333333

👸princess minki (real): i could never baby i love you more. hope you have a great day and i miss you baby <3

then for a second the three little dots appeared and Mingi thought he hallucinated it. But then an other text appeared.

🎀 princess #2: i’ll always be your first and your biggest fan

Mingi didn't even have time to reply that he received a video file. He faintly gasped at the thumbnail. It was your legs spread out on his bed. The big play button in the middle of the frame though blocked out the most interesting part and he didn’t even breathe before he played the video.

He continued to hold his breath when he saw you rub your clit throught your white panties. He didn’t know how long you did played with yourself but your panties were completely see through. Your juices were sticking to your folds, the laces barely concealing you anymore. But still, he needed these damn panties out of the way. 

He wanted to see you. His hand found his cock on instinct, immediately palming his hardening bulge. And his prayers were answered. You pushed the panties to the side uncovering the most beautiful sight Mingi had ever layed eyes on. He exhaled a long sigh when long strings of slick connected you to the thin fabric of the underwear. How bad he wanted to be there, to stuff your soaked panties into your mouth while he thrusted his thick fingers into you. How bad he wanted to feel you twitch around him. How bad he wanted to hear his name fall from your quivering lips as he brought you to your peak. He wanted you so bad.

But then you grabbed hold of something, something that emitted light… The lightiny? Mingi’s jaw hung open when he saw you bring the handle to your center, rubbing it through your folds, coating it with your juices before bringing it up to your hard clit playing with a little, prying beautiful muffled sounds out of your mouth. Just to bring the handle down again, you took a firm grip of the rounded part and pushed the handle inside your trembling core. 

“Fuck” Mingi exhaled as he started pumping his balled fist around his now fully hard cock, he kicked the covers off him just to be able to jerk himself off without resistance. 

“Nghhh” you moaned quietly as you bottomed out. “M-Mingi are you watching?” As if you could see him, Mingi nodded vigorously, qmd you gave more purpose to the coming and going of his wrist. “Keep watching me. K-keep- fuck aaaah. Keep looking at me. I’ll make myself cum for you, ok?”

“Fuck yes baby I wanna see it all.” Mingi replied in a strangled breath, his hand going to play with balls, while his other hand held the phone incredibly close to his face. if he could have he would have gone through the screen and right into you. 

You started to slowly bounce on the lightstick. You were obviously already really worked up, your pussy was clenching down on the shiny copper handle and the light was perfectly shining on your hard clit, making it obvious that you were pretty close. Red and swollen, ready to explode. Just how he liked.

So you did. In a few seconds your thighs were trembling and your movement became uneven. You started to squirt small translucent spurts, one then two.

“Fuck baby you’re so fucking hot” Mingi breathed and pumped himself faster. 

You took the copper handle out and rubbed your clit in tight and fast circles, squirting more translucent liquid and soaking the sheets. Your center quivering around nothing. You slowed down with a sigh and the video stopped.

Mingi felt like he was going to sink into eternal darkness and despair if he didn’t see more of you right now. His cock was twitching in his strong fist, his cockhead was leaking so much precum he wanted you to see him too. He wanted you to know what you did to him.

So he pressed FaceTime. It rang once, twice then you picked up. You looked disheveled and short of breath. Fuck how fucking beautiful you were. Mingi wanted to kiss you all over this pretty face of yours.

“Why do you torture me?” he said a little more whiny than anticipated. 

He was so cute with wet hair and his eyebrows meeting on his forehead. He flipped the camera to show you his swollen cock, hard, red and leaking. You bit you lip at the mouth watering sight.

“I just wanted you to remember me. That's all.” you started, your hand finding your folds once again. “Remind you I will always be your biggest fan”

“Fuck how could I forget about you? Are you insane?” he breathed out, his voice sounded strained, in pain almost. You could only imagine how worked up he was and this urgency in his tone compelled you to find a new angle to the video call. You balanced it on the covers and your wet pussy and the mess you made came into view again.

“Fuckkkk” Mingi sighed again, trying his hardest not to be too loud. San was next door and the last thing he wanted was for him to bring up his little intimate session with you tomorrow at breakfast. “You’ve made such a mess. I usually hate it but God I’d give everything to sleep in the wet spot tonight”. You saw him jerk himself off faster, his thumb spreading the precum all over his tip and dragging it down his shaft. Squeezing the head the bring out even more and repeat it again. 

“Please show me again” he didn’t intend to sound so desperate but it couldn’t be helped because he in fact was that desperate for you. “Please show me how you fuck yourself with the lightiny”

“O-okay” You brought it back and stuffed it inside your clenching little pussy with a sigh, your other hand spreading your lips apart, making sure Mingi had the first raw VIP view of the show. 

“Fuckkkk” he whined again. “You’re so fucking nasty for me, doll”

You chuckled, knowing your little scheme had worked. You knew right now he was only thinking of you. Completely pussy drunk even though he was thousands of miles away.

“I wish it was you inside me right now, Mingming”

“Fuck me too baby” he said strangling his cock tighter, more precum oozing out again. He was close judging by the way he kept on twitching in his own hand. The sight urged you to bounce harder on the handle of the lightstick, your pussy clenching around it, gliding so smoothly in and out of you while your other hand kept on abusing your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Baby I-I’m close” he said, a certain rasp about his voice that was only giving more weight to his words. His fist was frantically moving along his cock, now mainly focussing on his tip, making the poor thing absolutely miserable: all wet and beet red, close to bursting.

“M-me too” you said,  feeling the familiar knot in the pits of your stomach approaching its rupture point. The premise of your orgasm manifested itself in the form of an other small sprut of transparent liquid “Nggghh fuck-” you gasped. “I’m c-cumming again” you whined, rubbing your clit faster, in thighter circles. You ripped the handle out of you and one big squirt came out of your abused little pussy, joining the existing mess in Mingi’s sheets. 

“Oh fuck baby” Mingi couldn’t peel his eyes of the screen. “Fuck baby me- Fuck… Me too” He watched as your thighs became weak and as your pretty little pusy gushed out more and more fluids. You were the hottest thing he’s ever seen. And he couldn’t possibly take it anymore. He let himself go. He abruptly stop stroking himself just to let the first big rope of cum sprout out of his slit and crash over his stomach. You moaned louder at the sight. He kept on stroking again, milking more delicious cum out of his twitching red cock, completely repainting his stomach with thick and white cum, grunting as his hips involuntarily thrusted upwards until it all stopped.

When he had caught his breath he approached the phone to show his stomach and scooped some of his spillage between his fingers. 

“Look what you did to me? Just cause you got a little jealous of the fans?” he chuckled.

“I did that?” you said appalled, “No you did that! Stop making me jealous and it won't happen again” He flipped the camera again and you couldn't help but to smile mindlessly at the screen. He was a complete wreck, sharp eyes half lidded, bottom lip swollen and red from being bitten and strands of black hair sticking to his forehead. This haircut made him ridiculously hot. A mischievous smirk pulled at his full lips.

“Or…” he trailed off. “I don't this stop and you make me dirty sexy videos after every show”

“Yeah” you said, sarcasm tinting your voice. “Let's see you do that! We’ll see how it goes when you came back” you challenged him. Your smile sent shivers down Mingi’s spine. He loved you but you definitely could be scary sometimes.

“You know what, I changed my mind. I'll just behave and you can reward me when I get home.”

want more? try my fic facetime ♡

SYNOPSIS. mingi has a small favor to ask you real quick.

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[thebestsetter]

Isagi loves your thighs. And even though he isn't the type of guy to answer "personality" when asked "Boobs, thighs or ass?", he doesn't want to outright say how attracted he feels to them, mainly because he doesn't want you to think he only cares about your body (even though you know he doesn't).

So, imagine how heavenly it felt the first time he got to sleep on your lap. He remembers it as if it happened yesterday.

He had come home after a tough day of practice, in which his coach seemed even more angry than usual and just determined to make the whole team's day a living hell. Everything in him was aching, from his back to his feet, and he could swear he had a fever or something, because his head was starting to throb too. All Isagi wanted to do was get home and lay down, even if it means sleeping without showering (which shows just how tired he was).

"Honey? You're home!" he heard you saying from the kitchen "Welcome home!"

He tried to answer your sweet voice welcoming him home. He really did. But his mouth just wouldn't answer his brain's commands. So, he was just standing, staring at you with his mouth wide open, looking like an idiot.

"Isagi? Are you feeling alright?"

He couldn't even register what he was doing, but the next thing he knew, he walked closer to you. His body was just moving on it's own, as if being as close to you as possible was as natural for him as breathing.

"Sweetie, you're starting to scare me. Do you need to go to the doctor? Did something happen today at practice?"

He couldn't resist the urge to hug you anymore, even though he was trying to restrain himself because he was still stinky from practice and he knew just how much you hated it when he hugged or kissed you without showering first. He couldn't explain it, but you looked so huggable at the moment! He took a step closer, hugging you tight and burying his face in the crook of your neck, innaling deeply and letting out a satisfied sigh. One of his hands was travelling your waist while the other was playing with the hem of your shirt.

"Yoichi!" you exclaimed, voice worried yet still not loud enough to make his head ache even more (he doesn't even think your voice will ever be capable of doing him any harm) "You're burning up! You have a fever! I can't believe it, I told you to take better care of yourself!"

Ah. So he was right. He had a fever. That's why training was so hard today.

"Hm" he muttered, still with his head in your neck. He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment you both were having.

"Stay at the couch, I'll go grab some medicine at the bathroom."

"Noooo, don't leave me here" he said, clearly affected by his sickness. It looks like his mouth finally started to work again. "I don't want to be away from youuuu"

"Yoichi, my honey, you're clearly not thinking straight right now. But I won't go away! I'll be back in like 30 seconds. Sit on the couch and count, I swear it won't take long"

He sighed, but complied anyway, sitting at the couch and waiting (im)patiently.

You were right, because in almost no time you came back with pills and a cup of water. If there was a sport where the champion had to be the person who brought a glass of water and medicine to their sick boyfriend the fastest, you would win, Isagi thought (and that thought made him strangely proud).

"Here. Drink it up" he obeyed

"Everything hurts"

"I know it does, love. What you need right now is sleep. Come here" you said, patting your lap. If Yoichi was in his right mind, he would've blushed hard and maybe even denied at first, but he wasn't. He just wanted to rest, and he always dreamed about laying in your lap. So, he quickly grasped the opportunity.

And boy was it as good as he imagined it would be. Even better, actually. Your thighs were fluffier than any other pillows he had ever used before, and he felt like he could hibernate there. And as if it couldn't get any better, you started playing with his hair. He was in heaven. He couldn't even fell the pain anymore, and he was sure it wasn't just the medicine doings.

"I love your thighs" he admitted, a honesty he wouldn't have when he was healthy, which made you chuckle "And I love you too. Thank you." He kissed the inner part of your thigh to show you just how serious he was about it

"I love you too, Yoichi. Now, rest. We don't want the best striker of the world to be sick all week, do we?"

"If it means getting to lay on your lap everyday, I would be sick my whole life"

"You're silly"

"And you're the love of my life"

"Good night, Isagi"

"Good night, my love"

Masterlist

[lenny-link]

TF2 x SU au fusions!

oof this took too long but i finally made it !

I kept @gracefireheart Andalusite (HeavyMedic) and @cariocay ‘s Turquoise (EngieSpy) (that i just realized their account got deactivated just a few days ago im sad now) fusion designs because i just found them perfect and whenever i wanted to try making my own designs i always ended up with making something similar to theirs since i was very influenced so i just kept them! They’re so awesome plz check the original artists!

my designs :3 :

About the fusions:

I tried to choose a theme for every fusion that suits the characters like Spessartite (DemoSolly) is a warrior i put Demo’s sword with Soldier’s shield thing well he doesn’t specifically have a shield but yknow the helmet thing i thought that could work.

He’s very powerful, strong and jump into action without a second thought, while he possesses immense strength and a love for loud and chaotic things, his battle prowess is a double-edged sword since his attacks lack precision. however, this unpredictability often leaves his enemies confused and scrambling to defend. he fights more efficiently when drunk lol

Lepidolite (MedicSpy) is a plague doctor, he is very inspired by Hannibal Lecter (nbc Hannibal lol shout out to that one Anon who recommended it for me to watch it lol) at first i wanted to give him a bistouri as a weapon, since it would suit Medic’s saw with Spy’s small knife, but then i felt the fusion was leaning too much towards Medic than Spy, so i put a cane instead to give that old idk gentleman look :P

He is polished and sophisticated, with a hint of underlying sadism and very precise in his movements, he meticulously analyzes his opponents, exploiting weaknesses with surgical precision before jumping into action and strike right where it hurts the most, the cane appears to be a simple walking stick, but inside is a hollowed core that had a retractable, poison-tipped blade, and his poison isn't fast-acting he enjoys toying with his victims, watching as the venom slowly takes hold, fueling his twisted sense of amusement. they are far from being the strongest fusion but they rely a lot on making their opponent weaker by their ability to attack precise hits as well as poisoning them!

Carnelian (SniperScout) his design was inspired by a equestrian outfit (he was the hardest to design tbh bc i wanted his design to be specifically different from the others since Scout is half human so i wanted this "human" aspect to show in the fusion).

He is a walking paradox, he's got Sniper's calm confidence with Scout's hyperactive energy, he loves a good plan but his execution is often fueled by pure adrenaline, he can zip across the battlefield with incredible speed, dodging attacks and flanking enemies. good at mid range and long range attacks but weak at close range, has internalized monologues with himself a lot, he appears calm on the surface however, his foot constantly taps, he fidgets with his slingshot, he cannot stays in place for too long. enjoys taking challenges.

Rubellite (DemoPyro) is a robot with a 50’s cartoon style but with like a creepy vibe to it, their voice sounds like a broken radio perpetually stuck on a laugh track, is both infectious and unsettling.

They just as powerful as Spessartite but just a bit more agile and lean more on the defense style than offense, their body stretches in a cartoony way and battles become a twisted playground for them, a child's game where they hop and blow things up everywhere. they’re very joyful and loves to have fun while making chaos, they usually make jokes but no one understands their muffled voice so they often laugh all by themselves lol the weapon actually expands where the ball and the shaft of the mace connects there’s a chaine (i didnt draw it cuz there was already too much going on in the drawing lol) which helps them reach target from close to mid range easily, they twist and turn their body in very flexible ways before swatting their weapon at their target.

♠︎ If you want to suggest a pair for the next fusion please just comment here DO NOT send it in my ask box plz !!

And if you want to make your own fusion designs/fanart go ahead ! id love to see other people’s interpretations could be ! just don’t forget to tag me and add the tag ( tf2 x su au) :D

hope you enjoy !

+ early designs :

[uzurakis]

hi again!! (ik I just sent in a request I just had another one LMFAOOO) im back bc I got another request/idea!! jjk men (..yuta n Megumi 🙏 n whoever else u want :3) who got into a nasty argument (could be from ur argument post but it doesn’t have to be connected to that post!!) and then gets really injured on a mission right after the argument! it’s up to you if reader + jjk men end up making up, or it could end on a angsty route of them anxiously waiting for reader to wake up while trying to think to ways to apologize with regret; doesn’t rlly matter!! do what you want 😛😛

HEY, WAKE UP . . PLEASE?

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. yuuta okkotsu.

n. first, i apologize this one took a very long time because i wanted to carefully hit the right spots and nail the each character. second, i only make 3 characters this time ‘cause each one of them is long enough to read. third, i wanna make you guys suffer <3 enjoy !!

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

megumi’s fingers trembled as he reached out to touch your hand, the memory of his harsh words replaying in his mind. “why didn’t i see it coming?” he muttered to himself, voice hardly above a whisper. the guilt was suffocating, the feeling that he had failed you as a partner, both in life and on the field, gnawing at him relentlessly.

he hadn’t slept since you were brought in, eyes red and heavy, his emerald pupils weren’t evident anymore with the dark circles underneath a testament to his vigil. every beep of the monitors felt like a countdown, each passing second a reminder of how fragile everything was. he kept running through what he could have done differently, how he could have prevented this from happening.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking with emotion, repeating the words tremendously. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry—“

“i’m so sorry. i never meant for this to happen. i never wanted to hurt you.”

his mind was filled with images of your smile, your laughter, and the way your eyes would light up when you were happy. he wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, to hear your voice, to have the chance to make things right.

the silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the machines. megumi’s thoughts were a chaotic jumble of fear and determination. he knew he had to find a way to apologize, to show you that he cared more than he had ever managed to express. but how could he make up for the pain he had caused? how could he prove to you that he was truly sorry?

he squeezed your hand gently, as if the simple touch could convey all the words he struggled to find. “please wake up,” he pleaded softly. “i need to tell you how much you mean to me. i need to show you that i can do better. that i will do better. please, just wake up.”

as the hours dragged on, megumi’s resolve only strengthened. he would make things right, no matter what it took. the door to your room opened, but megumi didn’t look up. his focus was entirely on you, silently willing you to open your eyes. he wouldn’t leave your side until you did. he couldn’t. the weight of his regret was too heavy, his love for you too deep.

“please,” he whispered again, each syllable filled with desperation. “come back to me.”

GOJO SATORU

“you’re always so damn reckless!” gojo had shouted, his voice echoing in the small office.

“maybe if you weren’t so arrogant all the time, you’d understand why!” you had snapped back, feeling the sting of his words cut deep.

now, the same guy sat by your hospital bed, his usually confident demeanor shattered. his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, blood seeping from where his nails dug into his palms. the sight of you lying there, pale and unmoving, tore at his heart. he cursed himself repeatedly, the words tumbling out in a desperate, angry whisper.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” he muttered, voice breaking. “why the hell did this have to happen? why couldn’t i fucking save you?”

he stared at your face, willing you to wake up, to give him some sign that you were still there with him. the argument replayed in his mind, each harsh word a dagger in his chest. he wanted to take it all back, to tell you how much he loved you and needed you.

“shit,” he hissed, slamming his fist into the armrest of the chair. “i’m supposed to be the strongest, but what the hell does that mean if i can’t even protect you?”

a hollow aching threatened to eat away at his chest, a gnawing remorse. tears blurred his vision as he looked at you, voice a broken whisper. “wake up. i want to apologize. i want you to know how sorry i am.”

the room was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. gojo’s thoughts were a chaotic swirl of guilt, also his helplessness. he had faced countless curses and enemies without flinching, but this, seeing you like this, was unbearable.

he cursed again, the words raw and filled with pain. “damn it, why didn’t i stop you? why didn’t i fucking do something?”

his mind raced, trying to think of ways to make it right, to fix what had been broken. but all he could do was wait and hope. he reached out, gently taking your hand in his, his grip trembling.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered, voice cracking. “i love you. please, just wake up. i don’t know what i’ll do if you don’t.”

YUUTA OKKOTSU

yuta, who was normally expressive, was pale and drawn as he sat beside your bed. his voice was crushed by the weight of his remorse, and he was unable to speak. he was completely broken by the sight of you there, so still and vulnerable, in ways he never imagined. his fingers barely touched yours as he extended a shaking hand, fearing that the slightest touch could break you.

memories of the argument replayed in his mind, each moment seared into his consciousness. your angry words echoed in his ears, mingling with his own harsh retorts. he remembered the flash of hurt in your eyes, the way your voice had cracked when you told him you were done talking. he had let you walk away, his anger blinding him to the danger you were about to face.

tears welled up in yuta’s eyes, but he couldn’t let them fall. he had to be strong for you, even though you couldn’t sense a thing. the guilt gnawed at him, a relentless beast that whispered of his failures. he had promised to protect you, to be there for you, and yet here you were, injured and unresponsive, because he had let his anger get the better of him.

“it’s all my fault,” he grumbled, voice barely audible in the sterile room. “i should have stopped you. i should have been there.”

he stared at your face, willing you to wake up, to open your eyes and tell him it was okay. but you remained still, your breathing steady but shallow. yuta’s mind was a storm of regret and self-recrimination. he blamed himself for everything, convinced that his failure to resolve things before you left had led to this. if only he had followed you, things might have been different.

“wake up, please,” he begged, voice breaking. “you can’t do this to me..”

he felt a sob rising in his throat, but he swallowed it down, determined not to break in front of you. he had to be strong, even if it felt like he was falling apart inside. the thought of losing you was unbearable, a gap that threatened to swallow him whole.

“why did i let you go?” he murmured, his fingers tightening around yours. “why didn’t i fight for us?”

the minutes stretched into hours, each one an eternity as yuta sat by your side, his heart heavy with guilt and fear. he couldn’t imagine a life without you, couldn’t bear the thought that he might have lost you because of his own stubbornness.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered again, voice choked with emotion. he stayed there, silent and unmoving, the weight of his regret a constant presence. all he could do was wait and hope, praying that you would wake up and give him the chance to apologize, to tell you how much you meant to him. until then, he would sit by your side, holding on to the hope that you would come back to him.

“i love you. please, just give me a chance to make things right.”

@uzurakis

[atrirose]

⠀⠀⠀ ONLY FOR YOU ε🪴⁺ you making them flustered

synopsis : things you do that makes them flustered

ft . bf ! enha x f ! r cw. kissing, skinship .. sfw, fluff ✶ wc. 1k ◜ ◝ seiu : hope you enjoy ^^ its the enha pov of my pervious post that ik i did long back but its alright.

HEESEUNG

his hearts melt when you reassure him, tell him you are proud of him or compliment him, he is a sucker for it, could be any moment and he would just turn into a puddle for it.

he looked at you in disbelief as you emptied his portion of cake that he baked “yn, that was mine you already had yours” he pout, on the verge of tears “baby you baked so good it was so yummy i couldn’t control myself sorry but you are such a great cook” if he had a tail it would have been wagging right now “you think so? oh my okay you know what i will make more for you, im glad you liked it” he rubbed his cheeks on yours , while you celebrated escaping that.

“i’m proud of you hee” you plop yourself next to him as he put his head down on your lap “you did great out there” after a long day work these words are his favorite to hear, it makes it all worth it. he looks at you big eyed

“you make everything fade into the background”

JAY

pda and sweet or flirty messages always gets him smiling, though jay likes to keep it nonchalant and cool on the exterior but if you hold his hand or kiss his cheek in the public his ears will turn read despite his best efforts to stay cool “we are in public my love” he whispers “so what” you smile.

also giggles when you text him, tries his best to not show or answer your text in a fraction of a second and focus on his work but he fails miserably everytime “today was so tiring, i want to stay home with you always” collapses on you, hugging you tight “and you are a meanie too, teasing me like that” you giggled at his whiny voice “you can always come home jay”

“i could spend a lifetime just watching you.”

JAKE

being centre of attention by you, he loves attention but from you only, it makes him giddy “then this step was a little difficult but i worked hard on it, so i guess im good now, maybe?” you were doing your work but jake bust in to show his new dance to you so of course you had to give up everything and watch him “it’s really clean jake you did a great job” you got up from the sofa and pecked his cheek.

his whole face got red, not like you haven’t kissed his cheek before but nothing gets him like you sweet compliments and your dreamy eyes giving him 100 percent of your attention, even if he is trying to pull something stupid.

“i must be dreaming because there's no way you're real.”

SUNGHOON

wearing clothes he picked out, sunghoon takes pride in knowing his girl better than anyone, no surprise he picks up on your dislikes and likes, he tries his best to style something that makes you feel like the most beautiful “i was out yesterday and i thought this white dress would look great on but then i saw this necklace and then i thought its the prefect match so here” he smiles,“thank you so much i love these kind of dresses you know me so well” you hug him, inner him is jumping and rolling.

“i’m ready hoon let’s go” he turns back to see you wearing the dress he bought you “oh my goodness, how can you look so beautiful effortlessly” you giggle at his compliments, he is a gone case, a loser if you may, for you. totally smitten and starstruck.

“how am I supposed to look at anything else after seeing you like this?”

SUNOO

loves handmade gift, it gets his heart racing, he feels the most special when you sit to crochet after learning it online, even though the heart bag looks more like a square he would accept it lovingly, in fact he is the most happiest you would ever see him, he would be seen with that bag at every given moment “i love it no please” he said as you tried to take back the bag “but it’s embarrassing sunoo” , he is the type to have all your handmade cards and notes stacked in a box, polaroids of you and him, all your favorite memories to look back to.

“anything you make for me is never embarrassing, i will treasure everything with my whole heart”

JUNGWON

making direct eye contact or looking at him heart eyes when he is talking, nothing gets him all blushing mess, ears red, hiding his face like you do, you always look at him lovingly, humming and nodding, listening carefully. randomly touching his cheeks or tucking his hair behind his ears, gracing his ears “go on hun”

“no” he said burying his head in his hands, all flustered and red “why not” you giggled “because you are teasing me” he huffed glaring at you “stop playing yn”

“sorry won you just look so beautiful when you talk” you bite his cheeks “ow meanie” — “what were you going to say”

“you are so stunning i forgot what i was going to say”

RIKI

pulling him by his tie to kiss him , him being tall is extra fun when he can tease you when you try to kiss him “riki please” you tip toe to reach his lips only for him to smirk and not help you “please what yn?” you pout at his smug face boasting his height “bend down” you pulled on his tie which caught him off guard, your lips smacked on his.

his hands snaked around your waist to pull you closer him, your body flushed with his, your hands still gripping his tie “you can really make anything possible huh?” he giggled , cheeks red “you can let my tie go now” he tired to free his tie trying to hide the fact his heart is beating so fast “now you get how it feels to me teased” his hands still on your waist, he kissed your cheeks.

“how did i get so luck to be with someone like you”

[littlecafe]

team 23:00 (dgna) - mirotic (orig. tvxq)

global voting: https://peaktime.jtbc.co.kr/peaktime/en/vote + Naver NOW app where to watch: viki (there are eng subs!)

[rkvriki]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ enhypen obliviously in love

hi.......lmfao i keep disappearing i swear i'm alive but my isnpo has been going down the drain but i got this cute lil idea also to take a break of all the smutty things i've been posting lolz... anyways hope you enjoy this one !

make sure to leave feedback and reblog! my requests are closed and my talk box is always open so lets talk!

WARNINGS ! none really i think?? this is just not my best work im sorry </3 word count: 1.9k a/n: sorry that some of them, mainly hee's, are smaller than others, my brain isn't functioning and i had a writer's block during this and if it's not goo it's bc i quite forced myself to write this bc i wanted to post sth :(

୨୧ LEE HEESEUNG ! - trying to hold your hand and failing

you and heeseung met through mutual friends in your first year of college and you became almost inseparable ever since then. in the beginning of it, you would only be together when the whole group was, but as time went by and you both started feeling more than just platonic feelings you two started hanging out alone as well. it was usual for heeseung to walk you to your apartment after classes and today was no different. you two walked side by side, the sun almost setting behind you. it was mostly quiet except for the background chatting and the small talk you two would make about something you saw. you could feel heeseung’s hand brushing against yours from time to time and you were internally cursing him out for not holding your hand already. after a few moments of silence, you heard heeseung sigh as he gained courage to hold your hand. his hand got closer to yours but- oh! a light post came between you two. needless to say heeseung was a blushing mess while you laughed at him.

୨୧ PARK JONGSEONG ! - confronting you about it

anyone had to be really blind to not notice the romantic connection there was between you and jay. it was so obvious you were both in love with each other, it was almost painful how one of the sides didn’t notice. that side being you. it’s not like you didn’t like jay romantically, because you do. a lot. but you felt like he just saw you as a best friend he tends to protect a lot. jay didn’t really show it, but he gets really frustrated when he tries to make a move on you in a subtle way, only for you to put him in the friend zone, but it’s all unintentional. every time someone tells you “jay totally likes you.” you’re quick to dismiss them because he would never see you like that. even though you’re the one saying it, it breaks you inside. until one day, you’re both in a diner, sharing fries and a milkshake and you can see jay fidgeting nervously and bouncing his leg repeatedly. “you’re restless, what’s going on?” you ask him, worried. jay sighs heavily and props his elbows on the table, staring at you with a serious expression. “look, i don’t know if i should just give up, because at this point you have to be pretending not to know.” he says “T-to know what?” he laughs at that. “that i like you, dummy.”

୨୧ SIM JAEYUN ! - tries to kiss you and fails

as childhood friends you and jake were always expected to end up dating by your fellow family members. you would always brush off any comments about you two (deep down you wish they were true) while jake just smiled like a fool while looking at you. it was no surprise when jake told his friends he liked you. it wasn’t hard to notice how he felt about you, seen the way he looks at you with glimmering eyes as he took in every word you say. he has never really tried to hide how he felt about you. he wasn’t ashamed of it and couldn’t wait for the moment you realized he liked you, because deep down he knew you felt like him too. it’s funny to him how he’s always making flirty comments and giving you kind of romantic presents and still you just thought he was playing his role as your best friend. but still, even though it was all funny and entertaining to watch, jake was tired of waiting and he decided to just directly show you how he feels. so that’s how you find yourself sitting in the park bench with him as layla plays around. jake takes a quiet deep breath as his hand comes up to brush your hair from your face, making you face him. he takes that as an opportunity to lean down. you, thinking he was gonna whisper something, turned your face to the side, making him bump his head against you. he starts laughing at you, making you confused. “you can’t really see it, can you?”

୨୧ PARK SUNGHOON ! - misunderstanding gone right ?

no one who knew you two understood how in hell you and sunghoon weren’t a couple. it was so obvious you both liked each other but still none of you seemed to do anything about it. you two were your class’s representatives so you two were almost always together and it wasn’t too hard to notice the lingering touches or stares you shared. but something the other students didn’t know was that you two had actually talked about your “feelings”. one day sunghoon almost overheard you telling your friend you liked him. “you like me?” he had asked “no! no, i don’t like you, sunghoon.” you answered trying to play it off. he nodded, his lips pursing. “good, then because i’m in love with someone else.”. it was something along those lines and you two had never talked about it again, but the tension never left. it felt heavy on you and it was painful to spend time alone with sunghoon so you settled that you were gonna tell him the truth. “remember that day you asked me if i liked you?” he hummed as he stopped in his tracks. “well, i lied. i like you, actually. i don’t want things to get awkward because you don’t feel the same but i needed to be honest.” his eyes widened as he stared at you like you were crazy. “are you kidding me? i only said i didn’t like you because you said you didn’t like me.” you gasped and pointed an accusing finger at him “why did you lie then? you said you were in love-” “hey! don’t put the blame on me now you lied too.” “well, we still can fix it right?” you said laughing making him do the same.

୨୧ KIM SUNOO ! - “PFT! who would ever like me?”

you and sunoo weren’t the closest people ever but you two spent a lot of time together since pretty much all of your friends were mutual. still, that fact didn’t stop you from developing a silly crush on him that quickly turned into something more serious the more you got to know him in the very few times the two of you were left alone after a group hangout. no one knew about it except for your best friend. you never told sunoo, not because you were afraid of rejection or him being rude because with how sweet his personality is, he would’ve rejected you in such a friendly manner it would make you think he’s reciprocating the feelings, but because no one like him would ever like you, he was way out of your league. so, confessing was definitely out of question, no matter how much your best friend would insist you would simply not do it. but in reality, it wasn’t really like that. one day you were hanging out with sunoo and your best friend at a cat cafe when suddenly in the conversation you said something along the words of “who would ever like?” and bold sunoo, was not afraid to hide his sincere feelings and answered with “i do.” he smiled while you looked up blushing furiously. your best friend laughing maniacally. “w-what?” sunoo chuckled at your reaction. “i thought i made it quite obvious that i liked you, silly.”  oh! who would’ve guessed!

୨୧ YANG JUNGWON ! - heard you liked “someone else”

you and jungwon had met each other in sophomore year of highschool and it was safe to say there was a connection instantly that was more than just a platonic one. you two quickly became attached at the hip. if jungwon said he was going somewhere it was sure that you would be here two, if you were being invited somewhere they could already expect the “can jungwon come along?” question, and vice-versa. it wasn’t strange when people came up to either you or him and asked if you were dating each other and it honestly shocked everyone when you both would always answer no to it, even your own girlfriends found your “friendship” strange. they did not find the idea of a boy-girl friendship weird or impossible to exist but they just couldn’t see your dynamic as friends so it was bound for them to question you. you heard the question so many times you decided to just tell them “fine! yes, i like him so, what?” you saw their shocked faces but they weren’t looking at you. you looked behind you seeing jungwon behind you. when you locked eyes he was quick to turn his back and walk away making you panic. a few days have gone by after that and you decided you needed to talk to him. “i’m sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. i didn’t want things to get ruined by this.” jungwon stared at you “who even is tha guy?” he asked making you look at him as if he had three heads. “what?” you asked “what what?” “jungwon the guy is literally you, i thought that was settled already.” jungwon stayed silent before laughing like a maniac. “if you’re here to make fun of me you can-” jungwon shut you off with a kiss, making you relaize where things went wrong.

୨୧ NISHIMURA RIKI ! - i don’t even know how to word this one

let’s settle one thing. you two knew you both liked each other. romantically. you just don’t bother on labelling it or directly showing it to each other. everyone around you found your dynamic honestly weird but to you two it was more simple than people put it to be. it all started when you were really oblivious about ni-ki’s feelings for you so he decided to hint that he liked you more than a friend. like one time you were walking to his house and he just shoot “you look cute.” but you didn’t quite hear what he said, distracted by a dog “what did you say?” he sighed “i said you look like a fruit.” “riki that does not make sense, but whatever you say.” and he started gradually getting bolder. “i can’t get this song out of my head.” you told him during class “i can’t get you out of my head.” oh! that was new information for you “thanks…?” at this point you were acting dumb for him and he couldn’t take it anymore so he got even more straightforward. during one of your daily walks you were rambling about a flower you saw on the way and he just let you talk as his hand sneakily grabbed yours, making you stop talking and falter in your steps “what?” he asked as if it was nothing “n-nothing!” he smiled as he kept walking along with you. after that day he noticed a change. a good one. and that’s when he realized you had realized so he decided to just get to the point “is it weird if i kiss you?” he asked when you were eating lunch in the school garden. you put your drink down and turned to look at him. “honestly, riki? yes. do i care? no.” so with that he grabbed your face, kissing you as he smiled against your lips.