#themes of loss continue...
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I hate wordpress and their tumblr-ass shit editor that is willing to erase entire paragraphs of work if you so much as touch your laptop's trackpad. So it's either your content or carpel-tunnel, fucking got it....
#ARGH#I had typed up this whole beginning of the interview I AM SO FUCKING DONEW#doing this on my lunch break and wordpress was just like 'nope you're not'#and now I have to go back#themes of loss continue...
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Scott Smajor (cc) is such a good story teller actually and the common themes he uses in his storylines captivate me. I think we should talk about how good he is at Themes more often. If I wasn't so tired I'd write essays.
#scott smajor#his use of *grief* specifically#how it's often framed as *the worst thing* one can experience#how his roleplay(tm) moments in third life + a lot of witchcraft smp explore this idea#that grief = a death of the self as well and is uniquely horrifying in how it robs one of agency and hope#and how heavily it interacts with scott's typical central thematic focus on hope through continuation#his stories often convey hopeful and positive endings- even to tragic events- through presenting a world that keeps moving#where you have a path forward. a will and ability to carry onward. and a non-negotiable continuous consciousness interestingly enough.#notably even when scott's endings include death they don't tend to be true deaths.#there is a confirmed afterlife in both empires season one and third life#and scott literally reverses death in witchcraft smp#the idea of true death and subsequent *loss* is the biggest thing you can clash against scott's main themes of hope+choice+moving forward#so it's very natural that frequently loss#and maybe even more broadly any form of true *endings* as a concept#are framed through such a lens of horror and unique despair within the stories#because the storyteller is juxtaposing it against their central themes as the most hostile and irreconcilable thing with them#maybe i'm hyping up my cc too much by implying the minecraft roleplay is.#a dialogue with- and grappling of- the mere concept of finality and endings#(usually through death because that's typically the most profound and unchangeable form of finality we have any grasp of)#like i'm probably giving “is the minecraft based commentary about the relationship between hope and mortality in the room right now?” vibes#but like.#you have to understand how many recurring themes he uses#and how interesting they are#i believe in my cc's storytelling capabilities because his themes blow me away.#and even if it's not intentional storytelling (which i think it is because the themes are very well used and frequent enough)#i still find it interesting regardless
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ghost who was chemically castrated by roba and soap who wants to help him to regain his sexual autonomy
nsfw, angst, roba, unnegotiated unsafe but consensual gun play, hopeful ending
💀🧼
ghost walks like it hangs low.
there’s a tilt to his hips and a spread in his thighs and johnny’s never been able to stop staring.
and ghost’s never asked him to.
he knows he’s seen him; he’s not exactly discreet. he swears he’s even seen him cock his hips out before to give him a better view. but he always pulls back just as they toe the line; verbal cold water on the tentative heat they almost can’t help but spark when they’re together.
it’s never a no; johnny’s not so selfish of a cunt that he’d push when he knows he isn’t welcome. it’s always a reluctance; an “i wish i could,” never in so many words. an open ended “but…” as ghost circles the reason without ever actually saying it. johnny knows it’s something personal, something more than a difference in rank could ever excuse.
so he backs off when ghost does, jokes instead of flirts and holds his breath through the agonising wait until ghost lets him in close again. waits to know if he’ll let him close again.
it’s almost anticlimactic, the end of their dance; his delicate steps and looping logic to work out why bulldozed as ghost comes out and says one random night, “i can’t fuck.”
it’s not bitter. it doesn’t grate coming out of his throat; he doesn’t spit it like it’s something to be ashamed, not twisted with insecurity as if it’s an accusation by an ex.
it’s a statement of fact.
“you can’t fuck,” johnny echoes anyway because even if it is the reason, the big why… it still doesn’t really answer anything.
“i can’t get it up,” he elaborates, this horrid blankness in his eyes like he’s reading from a script. “whatever you’re looking for, whatever you want- i can’t give it to you.”
johnny just looks at him, the chill air prickling his skin. “right,” he nods calmly. “because my interest in you starts and ends with your dick.”
that blank calm shatters. “johnny…” he warns.
“do you really think i’m that shallow?” he cuts in, curing himself for the way his voice breaks but he never thought ghost would think so low of him; that this whole time, ghost’s thought that’s the only thing he wants from him. “like i’d take you for a ride ‘n just drop you?”
“there’s a difference between not gettin’ it for one night and never gettin’ it at all,” ghost growls, turning his back on him to lean against the edge of the roof. his shoulders heave and the anger seeps from him in one long breath. “it’s not a hitch, johnny. not a performance issue or ptsd or whatever the fuck you’re thinkin’. it’s permanent. irreversible.”
irreversible.
johnny stops, cold creeping up his limbs and dousing his defensive anger. ghost is many things and when it comes to his words, chief amongst them all is deliberate. he didn’t say it’s unfixable. incurable.
irreversible.
johnny buries his selfish hurt and scuffs his boots, an unobtrusive warning of movement, and comes up beside him; just enough distance between them to catch their breaths. he leans back against the ledge and looks over the opposite side of the roof at the dark sky.
“mexico,” he murmurs. not an accusation. not even really a question but ghost collapses in on himself anyway; sinking into his crossed arms digging into the ledge.
“mexico,” he agrees just as quietly. “‘pparently, roba found it more entertaining to let me keep it but- cut the cords. more demeaning that way; cock’s gone, at least you don’t feel the urge. don’t have to look at the fuckin’ thing hang there when nothin’ fuckin’ works.
“it’s not ‘bout how i see you, johnny,” ghost promises and it’s almost apologetic. “but you like sex. eventually, you’ll want it. and i can’t give it to you. easier to just… not let it get to that point.”
johnny’s jaw flexes. everything in him wants to reject it, wants to protest that something as trivial as an orgasm is more important to him than ghost.
but he also knows words are useless here.
they stand there looking out into the gathering dark, tense silence hanging between them, and the only thing johnny knows is if he isn’t careful, he could lose the one person he cares about most.
💀🧼
ghost’s been uneasy since his abrupt confession.
he knows it was sudden, borderline cruel to dump his shit on johnny with no warning but he just couldn’t take it anymore; couldn’t take the back and forth when he knew it would never go anywhere, couldn’t take johnny’s hope when he knew he’d have to watch it twist into disgust and pity.
into disappointment.
he figures that’s the end of it; there’ll be no more flirting now, no more staring or heated looks, no more teasing him by spreading his knees out just to see the flash of hunger in his eyes. the control he felt playing with johnny knowing it was welcome, just because he could- he’ll never feel that again. not now that johnny knows the truth.
then he steps into his room to find johnny laying naked on his bed.
he’s not spread out like an offering, not throwing him some cheap sultry glance as he plays with himself. he’s not even hard; his cock limp over the cradle of his balls, his legs bent loosely together, arms under his head as if he’s settling down for the night.
ghost sighs and shuts the door behind him. “johnny…”
“i know,” johnny says and it’s gentle; not cutting him off, just getting his attention. “just… hear me out?”
there’s nothing else to say. there’s nothing johnny can say or do to fix his violated body. but ghost still crosses his arms and leans back against the door like he can anyway.
johnny pushes himself up and off the bed, closing the distance between them but still giving him enough space to breathe; to open the door behind him, to escape.
“i can never know what was taken from you,” he starts and ghost’s fingers dig into his arms. “i can never know what it means to you. and i can never get it back.”
he doesn’t break eye contact and slowly lowers himself to his knees. “but i can give you something else.”
“you?” ghost guesses flatly and as much as it warms his blood, as much as he’s imagined having johnny look up at him just like this… it’s still not enough to offset the sickening swoop in his gut when his cock doesn’t so much as twitch.
“i’m a nice bonus,” johnny purrs but his smile remains gentle. “but i’m not the main event.”
he lifts a hand and ghost readies to smack it away when he reaches for his thigh holster instead of his belt. he flicks the closing strap open and pulls his handgun, his favourite, free.
“you told me you can’t fuck,” he murmurs, popping out the clip. he taps it against the side and loads it back in with a practiced hit with the butt of his palm. “but fucking isn’t all there is.”
“johnny, what…” ghost starts just to cut himself off as johnny thumbs off the safety and loads a round into the chamber.
“you trust me?” johnny asks and it’s as loaded as the gun in his hand.
good then, that ghost knows the answer. “always have.”
johnny’s smile blooms with warmth, with pride, and it chases away any reluctance he could possibly feel. he lets him take his hands in his, wrapping them around the gun with his finger on the trigger guard. he brings the barrel up beside his temple, holding it steady before his hands fall away.
until it’s only ghost between him and a bullet.
johnny’s hands go to his belt, his movements slow enough for ghost to stop him long before he reaches his cock, forever hanging limp in his pants. but he just rubs the muzzle along his temple, almost nuzzling him with the gun as he pulls down his jeans and boxers.
he waits for johnny to take him in hand, maybe try and pantomime a handy, and his hips almost recoil at the thought.
but he doesn’t try to touch him.
instead, he takes his wrist and guides the gun to sit in front of his cock; angling it to follow the same slight curve he has then holds his hands behind his back like he’s standing at attention. he splays his knees wide, sinking deeper and ghost sucks in a harsh breath as johnny ducks under the gun; his eyes locked on his as he curls his tongue under the barrel and brings it into his mouth.
it takes every ounce of will he has to not let his hand shake around the gun as johnny gives it the slowest, messiest blowjob he’s ever seen; slowly rising higher on his knees, guiding the gun up with him as if it’s his cock hardening. his cheeks hollow as he sucks, tongue laving up the barrel and flicking out to play with the muzzle like a cockhead, moaning with every bob of his head until saliva drips off the metal and makes a mess of his chin.
ghost’s never felt so powerful as he does watching johnny hang off the end of his gun; watching his cock harden and drool between his legs without a single touch, knowing he could pull the trigger at any time and johnny would not only let him but he’d thank him.
the thought breaks him from his paralysis, drawing the gun from his lips and johnny immediately stills; rolling his wide eyes up like he’s trying to check on him. ghost pushes every ounce of heat into his gaze and cocks the gun to the side, slowly pushing it back in until johnny’s lips meet the trigger guard.
johnny whines as he fucks his mouth, thrusting his hips along with each long drag like the gun is an extension of his body; almost too rough as tears prick his eyes and his lips redden and bruise but he never asks him to stop; his cock leaking a puddle on the floor beneath him.
“you gonna cum for me, johnny?” ghost croons, holding back a groan when just his voice is enough to make him shiver. “gonna cum with my fucking gun down your throat?”
he gives a broken whimper, as close to an agreement as he can make, and ghost crowds in close. he grips the base of his mohawk, wrenching his head back until his throat is flush to the front of his thigh. johnny lets out a choked cry, eyes rolling back and he doesn’t hold back as he brutally fucks his face; feeling the bulge of his gun in his throat against his leg.
“come on, johnny; you wanna be my good little holster?” he growls and makes sure he’s watching as his finger moves from the guard to the trigger. “then take my fucking load.”
he forces the gun as deep as he can and johnny gags, his shaking body locking up as he cums untouched; painting the floor and ghost’s boot, cock twitching and pulsing hard enough to bump against his belly and leave a string of cum threading from it to his cock.
ghost watches him spasm and moan, his throat convulsing around the gun and a heated knot of satisfaction tightens in his gut; so close to the memory of an orgasm, he’s almost dizzy with it.
johnny slumps forward, his hands slipping from behind his back, and ghost quickly flicks the safety back on and drops to his knees. he slides the gun away and pulls johnny forward to collapse into his chest, taking his weight off his knees; his whole body trembling with aftershocks.
“you’re crazy, johnny,” ghost whispers, awed, and feels him smile against his chest.
“aye,” he agrees, voice raspy from his gun scraping up his throat. “how else am i supposed to prove that i mean it?”
ghost tries not to tense up; tries not to let hope sink its cruel roots into his chest. “mean it?”
johnny pulls back, his cheeks still flushed and sticky with spilled tears. “i’m yours, ghost; in any and every way you’ll have me,” he promises. “sex or no sex. this can never happen again and i’ll still never stop wanting you. it doesn’t matter to me as much as you do. you’re everythin’ to me, ghost. not your body; not what you can give me. just you.”
a knot crowds in his throat. “and you needed to deep throat my pistol to prove that?” he deflects.
and just like always, johnny lets him. “worked, didn’t it?” he winks. “you fucked my brains out.”
ghost rolls his eyes to hide the softness he knows is flooding them and helps johnny up and gets him into his shower; cleaning him of the sweat and cum and spit covering his body.
that ghost covered his body in.
his chest hitches at the reminder as he strips himself down to a single layer and all but falls into bed, tugging johnny in after him when he hesitates just slightly at the edge of the bed; splaying his still naked body over him, sated and loose.
“i really do mean it,” johnny whispers into the crook of his neck sometime later; when their breaths have settled and synced.
ghost sweeps his fingers up and down the length of his spine, skin he’s never seen. skin he now knows every inch of. “i know you do,” he whispers back.
and for once, he thinks it might be enough.
#hello i am once again thinking about erectile dysfunction#as i am wont to do#and how such a major loss of identity and control can seriously mess you up#thats very much the theme of this one#as much as its obviously about gunplay and how hot that is its also about regaining that control over yourself#ghost was imasculated and violated#its not really about sex and soap knows that; its about retaking what was stolen from him#the power that ghost feels is hugely important to his journey to healing#and they almost definitely arent going about it the best way but hey if it works it works#also just a little thing#but both of them nonverbally setting the boundary of soaps hands being behind his back meaning the scene is going actually makes me melt#the second soaps hands come forward not only do they both take it as the end of the scene but ghost takes it as soap not being present#enough to continue#hes slipped deep enough into subspace or hes exhausted enough that he cant hold position which means the scene is over#i love them so goddamn much#anyway i have a lot of issues with control being taken for me and why else does ghost exist if not for me to project my issues onto him!#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt#we’re a team. ghost team#ghostsoap#soapghost#ghoap#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#soap cod#john soap mactavish#cod mw2#cod fic
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reading about wizardwood in the liveship traders trilogy after learning from assassin’s quest in the farseer trilogy about how the skill works and how skill-wrought life is formed

#rote#rote spoilers#yell.txt#AND how loss of personal autonomy & agency continues to be the primary theme of the series overall…..
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"This season, Dylan is isolated and I think he has neglected his connections with the MDR folks. And then he reads [his outie]'s letter and he kinda decides, 'Well I'm gonna be here, let me get back to my friends, and be here with them'."
Zach Cherry on Dylan, S2E10 of The Severance Podcast
#severance#severance spoilers#i really like how dylan's arc this season really was the tension between his family (outie life) and his friends (innie life). we see in th#s1 finale how he sacrifices his opportunity to see his kid again just so that his friends get the same chance as him. s2 explores how he#struggles his deep need to be with his family and his loyalty towards the rest of MDR. irving dying and helly and mark's romantic drama is#what pushes him to dedicate himself fully to gretchen and the idea of his family but ultimately it doesn't work out. and it's devastating#enough that he tries to kill himself over it. he can't have his family so what's the point. but when he gets another chance at life it's#like 'fuck it. if family isn't my purpose then my friends will be.' and so the ending shot of this season being dylan leading the charge of#a whole army of innies ready to fight for their right to live giving a confident 'fuck you' to milchick versus his s1 ending shot when it#was just him alone up against milchick is really inspiring. dylan's choice of loyalty to his fellow innies is rewarded and is so satisfying#dylan g. union leader next season !#also to me it kinda empasizes how the core of the show is still solidarity between workers. mark s screamed and fought his way into getting#his friends back in episode 1 and dylan's ultimate choice in e10 to dedicate himself to his friends is just a continuation of that same#theme. they went through so much hardship and loss this season but the endpoint is still them choosing one another and choosing to fight#back together#s3 will have dylan mark helly + all the other severed workers hold down the fort before irving crashes back in halfway through the season#with his one million anti lumon forces TRUST
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[ cw: death mention / ]
Y’know something I really like from the movie is how close Future Leo and Casey Jr are presented as being, even if not shown often or super obviously.
Like beyond Junior’s blatant idolization of “the world’s greatest ninja”, I want to highlight the beginning of the movie, with Junior trying so desperately to save Future Leo, Leo reassuring Junior despite his own acceptance of death, and, especially, I want to highlight the “have a slice” line.
Because…this is a line given to a kid raised in war. A line given at the tail end of what quite possibly is the most important task the resistance has ever undertaken. A line whose importance lies solely in the sentimental value of a child finally getting to experience something entirely good, and Leo knowing Junior will succeed to experience it because he believes in him.
I dunno, I think a lot of Future Leo giving Casey Jr the thing Leo himself always longed for: trust.
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#rottmnt future leo#rottmnt casey junior#FAMILY#this totally makes Casey Junior’s loss of trust in Present Leo all the more heartbreaking too imo#side note but it’s not only Junior that Leo is showing such trust in - he knows his family is capable of succeeding as well#he trusts that his family - and yes Junior IS included in that - will win#hope is just another way to trust#‘Leo never gave up on us - I’m not giving up on him!’#<- Mikey’s words at the end highlight another theme too#of Leo continuously having faith in his family but no one having faith in him#it’s often warranted but also often not#but it makes sense that things finally come together when hope and trust and belief and understanding play hand in hand
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Bug Fables OC Valentine's Day Cards
Trent
Luna
Mike
Red
Pip
#sgigart#bug fables#bug fables oc#valentine's day card#trent the beetle#luna the moth#mike the bee#red the ant#pip the bee#was gonna continue but i honestly got a bit tired of it ^^;#plus i already have Elisa. Zach. Rohan. and Zant covered with their own Valentine's Day themed artwork#so it's not a huge loss imo :3c
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So I went ahead and watched the new Crow trailer
Yeah, it's exactly what I thought. Simultaneously too clean and yet extravagantly gory. The villains lack any kind of the weirdness we got from Michael Wincott and Bai Ling, who were both so spectacularly deranged. Going to be a lot of CGI (which -- absolutely, yeah, use it for the shooting sequences, please, but if the original production could afford some ravens, you can afford some fucking ravens). Not a fan of them making it so the attack on Eric and Shelly appears to be targeted, as opposed to the random violence of both the original comic book and the original movie. And using a line from the original trailer that was voiced by Brandon Lee is probably just an unwise move in general. (Edit: actually, I'm pretty sure it was the girl who played Sarah who said that line in the trailers. Still not a great way to set yourself apart from the original.)
As far as it being "inspired by the comic book, not the film" -- I mean, okay, it looks like they have the Skull Cowboy? Which did get cut from the 1994 version due to Brandon Lee's death. But again, the whole Shelly backstory thing is very different. The villains look very different. What the fuck they're doing in the whole scene when it looks like there's a prison and everyone's in pink -- I don't know what that is. It wasn't in the comics. This wasn't a girl who saw some stuff that a billionaire crime lord was doing and then they came after her and her fiance. This was a random, senseless killing out of the blue.
And that actually matters, right? Because James O'Barr lost his fiancee out of the blue, to a drunk driver. The Crow was his response to that loss. Changing how they died really does change everything that comes next. It can't be helped.
And it just looks like extruded comic book product. It's like... again, everything's too clean and everyone seems kind of vaguely rich for no real reason but there's also this really cartoonish violence with armies of NPC characters, and it's just extruded comic book product.
Which is unfortunate, because I do get the sense that Bill Skarsgård is legitimately acting his heart out. But it just isn't enough to make this feel like anything but a cash grab on the part of the producers with at least one good performance.
He deserves better. This whole story deserves better.
I just don't think it's going to get that.
#the crow#the crow 2024#even if they'd just changed the names and done it as a sequel it wouldn't be this bad#there's so many crow sequels and crow stories#we could've let eric and shelly alone#and honestly in this context this would've been pretty good compared to the other sequels!#but as an adaptation of the first story i just don't think this works#(i also question the wisdom of thinking you can separate that original from the first film given how the theme of senseless loss continued#(into the production of that film and the loss of brandon lee#(i think they're just too intertwined to be separated like that)#(and then of course in that you cannot stop the comparisons and the original film was so fucking specific#(and the modern style is so fucking hyper-generic#(it's just the wrong lessons learned here i think)
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𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k
❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk
❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!
the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.
after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.
you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.
it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.
there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?
well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.
you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.
it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.
has...has he always looked that handsome?
he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.
"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.
"mm."
slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door
"good."
dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.
he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.
you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.
once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.
his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.
modest, yet sensual.
"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...
you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.
"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"
it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.
a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...
it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.
"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"
such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.
It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.
but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.
the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.
his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.
calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.
even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.
"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.
the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.
neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.
sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?
they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.
'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.
however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.
"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.
"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.
he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.
"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."
with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.
you were this aroused just from...talking?
the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.
you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!
you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.
but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!
a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.
if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.
no true man of god would do such a thing.
"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."
giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.
something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.
so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.
a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.
he's so fucked.
"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.
the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.
this is what it felt like?
this is what he waited for?
fuck, it felt...it felt so good.
too good.
for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.
little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.
his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.
no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.
the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.
meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.
the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.
the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.
"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.
“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.
but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.
nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.
look at her.
those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.
so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.
"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"
messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.
he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.
how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?
doesn't she know she's giving into lust?
doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?
"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.
nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.
but he's lying to himself.
he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.
the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.
"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."
he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.
his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.
you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.
“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”
be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.
his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.
the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.
fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.
but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.
breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.
with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.
this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.
"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.
"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.
his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."
a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,
"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.
if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.
"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."
he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.
"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.
his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.
nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.
"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."
that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.
it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.
no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.
the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.
you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.
"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.
he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.
"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."
with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.
the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.
your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.
not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.
"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.
you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.
"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.
no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—
"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.
"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"
with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.
it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.
a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.
oh.
you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...
his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.
it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.
"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."
but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.
"k-kento, that's nasty!"
all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.
clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.
but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.
"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.
his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?
"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."
may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.
all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work
#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami x you#nanami kento x you#nanami smut#nanami kento smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#˗ˏˋ ★ lxnarworks .ᐟ#[💳] kento .ᐟ
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‘ V!RGIN KILLA! 𝜗𝜚

𓉸ྀི sum. not only does he think he knows what he’s doing, he’s also a virgin. but there’s a first time for everything . . . right? choso, nanami, gojo, geto, ino, toji.
warnings. fem! reader, vīrgin men, unprotected, vīrginity loss, whiny needy men, some college themes, fratboy! toji, pússydrunk men, cōckwarming, cérvix kissin', cunnīlingus, dry humping, finishing quick, spıt, squīrting, bréeding, petnames, sukuna's part didn't save but i'll make it up </3

★ NANAMI KENTO aka the quick learner virgin?!
nanami drools the minute his tip disappears inside of your cunt. he can’t help it - at all.
the balmy warmth you provide him while you’re straddling his waist, basically cockwarming him sends him shivers. “god, ‘s good,” he groans, tugging at the bottom edge of his spot-patterned tie. nanami could feel the raised pointed tips of his ears burning as his eyes slowly flicker down toward your sopping wet pussy. oh, how it’s just profusely leaking with so much strings of your pretty slick. messily, it glosses a shine between your legs, gleaming with thick molasses—almost similar to a stream, and yet this stream was instead flowing down between your legs. “mmh.. ride me, s- show me how to feel good, my love.”
“hey. eyes on me, ‘ken,” you whisper, your fragile breaths growing shallow the moment he’s tightly snug balls deep in. with a ringing loud ‘pop!’ you feel him greedily ease his way past the slight loose ring of your entrance and you moan. he’s in so deep, and you can’t help but shimmy your hips against his lap. nanami told you how he had little to no experience—and yet, he wanted to try this out with you. having you ride him until he couldn’t think straight. whenever you ran your hands down his carved tone body, a roaring fire would ignite within him. your touch alone sent him chills and he only craved it more. tender fawn-colored eyes that almost resemble honey meet your gaze, and he leans into your touch the moment you cup your hands on his cheeks. slowly, you’re lustfully swaying against his lap back and forth and he groans. “that’s it, you’re doin’ good, kento. hold my hips.”
“like . . this?” he hoarsely asks, and hefty hands suddenly cling onto your waist. you moan, nodding as he gently holds them in place, trying to guide your movements. his cock stretched you out in each ‘n every way, curiously exploring through the gummy walls of every slick orifice. nanami’s starting to sweat already—and you smile, watching as he sneaks a fat thumb down between your pried open legs. “mngh. . you’re soakin’ all on me. is that normal?” he breathes, and you can see a bit of drool starting to seep down the cracked corners of his lips.
soaking, he could hear the sloppy sounds of your cunt slamming back against his tense thighs and it makes him throb. in zealous sync, you end up throbbing too, and he feels said throb right against the the narrow tip of his cock. “ah, y- yeah, ‘s normal, kento,” you inhale sharply, wrapping your arms around him. callused fingertips his drag a straight line down your skin as he starts to rock you faster into his needy pelvis.
the stretch makes you whimper - his dick’s so fat, and your pussy swallows all numerous inches every time. over ‘n over, your ass violently hits back against his lap as you continue to ride him, amorously tossing your swerving hips in a circle. you could see the blond’s eyes starting to grow hooded, and he’s never looked so in love. your cunt had him hungry for more. “like that, baby?”
“mhm, i like a-anything you do to me, sweetheart,” nanami hoarsely coos, pulling up the back of your hand for a loving kiss. you’re riding him well—watching as he slowly cocks his head back, exposing the oval-shaped adam’s apple in his throat. it’s a simple yet sexy detail that makes you pulsate nevertheless, and nanami groans. “f- fuck, i need you. i need more, ‘m not gonna last, honey if you hah.. keep ridin’ me like that.”
and within a few hasty strokes, nanami starts to get the hang of your rhythm. by the hang, he’s starting to fuck you against his cock now. vast, open hands of his cling onto your waist tight before he’s occasionally spanking your ass. “ngh, good girl. that’s my girl, ugh,” and as you’re whining, nanami pulls you into his neck. the pearly silver band of his flashy watch tickles down your back as he grabs at a nice chunk of your ass, spanking it. “r- ride it like it’s yours, sweetheart. ride it like i’m yours.”
he’s whispering filthy nothing in your ears—trying to drown out your cute sobbing whimpers and your even louder pussy. nanami’s cock was deranged - it was reaching through every sensitive spot of yours, wasting no time to introduce itself near the gummy ridges.
“fuck, fuck!” you’d squeal out, gasping once the swollen head of his cock tickles its way near your hidden g-spot. oh, that spot. you couldn’t help but get sheepish, a cock drunk smile twisting against your lips. he’s so snug, rearranging your insides while continuing to spank your ass. it’s almost as if he knew what he was doing, and nanami knew how to tame your aching cunt with just a few sloppy strokes. “ken, ‘m close. fuckin’ close.”
“i know, i know. give it t’ me,” he whispers, his voice pitching deeper ‘n deeper after each sloppy thrust. nanami’s pumping you full, swallowing thickly to ease the inside of his mouth that’s parched, akin to the sahara. nanami groans, gingerly making you slam your hips against him harder. “fuck, work those hips sweetheart. show me how messy my pretty girl can be, h- huh?”
you’re whimpering constantly, sounding like nothing more than a broken record as you’re gradually being led to your release. it’s a candied sweet taste in your mouth that never goes away, and once you finally came—you were hysterical.
nanami huffs heavily, holding you tight as your hips come to a sudden devastating stop. he’s still buried thick inches deep before he groans, caressing a palm against your tender rear. “hah, that’s m- my girl,” he coos, feeling you drench a portion of his cock with your slimy slick. it’s warm, and you’re still whining incoherent blurbs as you bury your face into his neck. “whew, we’ll have ‘ta try that again,” and once he plants a wet kiss near your temple, he strokes your chin with a thumb. “but another position though. if that’s alright.”
“w- what position?” you tiredly pant, bringing a hand toward your sticky-coated back.
nanami gives your ass its final playful spank before whispering lowly against your lips. “ever heard of doggy, my love?”
#GETO SUGURU aka the nasty virgin?!
geto’s a filthy nasty virgin, unashamed. insisting how he’s never experienced something like this before, smugly stating how he ‘did his research.’
“lie back, sweetheart,” geto huffed, flipping you right back over on your back. he’d just got done with fucking you round after round for the first time, and it seemed like the word ‘stamina’ didn’t exist in his vocabulary. one second inside and he already wanted more—he was greedy, and it was never enough. as you’re struggling to catch your breath that drags out of your full puffed lungs, you stare up at geto. right away, his dark eyes dart between your legs and the dripping dewy mess that streams between your puffed cunt. “what a pretty sight, look at thaaaat,” and geto inches his face between your thighs, staring at frosty-white wads of cum that pour straight out of your full swollen folds.
so much. . you were practically overflowing with ribbons of sticky hot cum ‘n many more strings of it before he sticks out his tongue. “hah, least i can do is clean my girl, hm?” and you whimper, feeling him spread your legs apart with two hands. “kinda saw this in a video once.”
“s- sugu!” you gasp, your words leisurely turning into moans the second he dives straight into your pussy - nose first.
right as the tip of his tongue creates a frenzied slurping trail that soaks straight your cunt, he gives you the most feral look. his pretty black lashes briefly flap shut as he’s devouring you wholly, jerking his head from side to side. choked, gargled moans continue to steal out from your strained vocal cords as a hand of yours fishes through his matted tresses. “fuck, f- fuck like that, clean it up, baby.”
“mhm,” he smears his entire chin against your cunt, feeling it get doused with your sweet slick almost right away. he’s nasty, lapping up his bittersweet cum that spills out from between your folds like it’s nothing. geto barely even bats an eye, and that’s when he groans the second you feel a bit of weight dip against the mattress. he’s now humping against the edge of the bed, rocking his slim hips over ‘n over. “goddamn, ‘m so horny still, sweetheart. ‘y have no idea,” he whimpers shakily, and he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head as a few thin strands of hair gets in the way of his view. “h- hey, be a doll ‘n tie my hair back for me, yeah?”
as you’re chasing your quick-steady breaths, you grab his ponytail holder from his wrist, neatly putting his raven locks into a messy bun. “good girl, take such good care of m—mmph.”
geto lowly chuckles against your pussy once you give him a soft push that makes his nose brush up against your clit. your folds were so cute ‘n runny, filthily oozing with velvety remnants of his warm, pasty cum. “mhh, suguru,” you’d whine, feeling your back continuously arch against the stained white sheets. geto’s got a few loose strands that continue to run down his face, past his brows—making him appear to be even more handsome whilst between your legs. each thoroughly slurp gets louder, and that’s when he starts to loll his tongue out inside of you.
one thing about suguru geto was that he had a long fuckin’ tongue..
it extends fully, and you give his hair a rough tug once the tip of his tongue playfully slithers its way near your twitching sensitive nub. at that moment, you feel a rapid chill race through you and you let off the most shrilling whimper. “ah! suguru, fuck, ‘m sensitive there, don’t s- stop,” and as you’re babbling from his lengthy tongue, he starts to purse his lips. they curl up, puckering fully before he’s drinking everything out of you.
it’s a long carnal suck that makes your eyes cross and you feel like your life’s flashing before your eyes. splotches of white were all that clouded your vision as your thighs shake—nearly suffocating him with your plush, warm legs. “o- oh, fuck,” you’d mewl, and you knew that incoming pressure from anywhere.
you were close.
geto grunts, savoring your taste entirely. you’re just so sweet that your flavor melts on his tongue and he’s teasingly thrusting his tongue in and out of your sobbing folds. seconds later, that’s when you shriek. “c’monnn, give it to me,” and he even brings a hand between your thighs, spanking your precious cunt. “make a mess on my tongue, wanna see what it’s like,” he groans, his rocking against the edge of the bed intensifying. geto’s famished for more, and his bare cock twitches against the rocky mattress frame as you’re squirming on his tongue. by now, he’s licked you clean, and in return, he’s left with a locked jaw and glimmering wet chin. geto eyes you intently, giving your pussy its final sloppy spank before whispering against your folds. “let go for me, baby.”
as if on cue, you gush out loudly, feeling every muscle within you snap ‘n stretch outward. it was as if a crushing weight was lifted from your shoulders—but in this case, your shoulders were your tummy. “fuuuck!” you whimper out, squeezing your eyes shut as your legs give out.
geto’s mouth was still glued to your sticky slippery cunt as his tongue’s slowed its licks down. you tasted even sweeter, and he’s slurping you right up - softly moaning against your cunt as he reaches to touch himself. geto’s tongue’s constant movements scratch such an itch in your brain, making you let off a cute gasp. “ughh, s- suguru,” you whimper, feeling your thighs still shiver.
your tummy heaves in and out repeatedly, and you glance down at geto who’s got the sleaziest grin. “t- thought you said you didn’t know what you were . . hah, doing.”
“oh, baby i don’t,” geto rasps, sitting up from between your legs. he closes the distance between you both, pressing a steamy hot kiss against your quivering plump lips. you moan, getting a brief taste of yourself on his hot tongue before he playfully bites near your bottom lip. “my research helped me a lot,” and you moan the second you feel him give your sloppy cunt a big squeeze with his palm. “but . . i didn’t know my girl was a squirter. think we’ll have to do that again,” geto licks underneath your chin. “y’know, for research purposes.”
#GOJO SATORU aka the loser virgin?!
“yeah, yeah,” satoru would stubbornly grumble, cutting you off mid-sentence and rolling his eyes. his leaky tip remains idle, aligning itself against your soddened entrance before he puffs. phew, you were so pretty up close—especially down there. satoru couldn’t help but stare, openly admiring just how slick ‘n soaked you were.
just weeping from both off folds, the entirety of your entrance being coated in nothing but perspiring wetness. satoru swears on his life he knows what he’s doing, but the second the globed head of his cock smears a line down the wet slope of your cunt - he folds.
with a shaky, needy breath, he whines. “god, why are you so fuckin’ wet, baby. ‘s this supposed to happen?”
“yes, ‘toru,” you reassure him, sprawling your legs out a bit more. satoru’s panting, watching as you bring two sets of fingers toward your pretty pussy. with a slightly wide ‘v’ shape, you’re spreading yourself apart and he’s gawking straight between your legs. fuck, you were so soaked that you were starting to drip near the inner crevices of your thighs. you were playing with yourself earlier before he told you how he wanted to try going inside for the first time. but now that he’s up close—satoru can’t help but be a bit flustered. “c’mere, don’t be shy,” and you nearly moan, trailing the print of your thumb down your syrupy-coated slit. “she doesn’t bite.”
satoru scoffs, but he inches closer. so wet, his cock that was being fisted in the palm of his hand was throbbing hard. pulse after fucking pulse, a lightning-shaped vein races down the center of his hand before he groans at how hard you’re making him. “ngh, baby,” and he nearly loses it the second he struggles to align himself. he feels so hot, fuzzy cotton stuffing in his ears once his tip slowly rubs itself in between your drooling flaps. satoru snaps out of it, clearing his throat before puffing out his chest in an attempt to maintain his known ego. “heh- i mean uh- let’s show ya how ‘the strongest’ fucks.”
and apparently, ‘the strongest’ didn’t really know what he was doing after all.
because he’s barely halfway in when he’s cumming - heavily.
emphasis on barely, and satoru lets out a sweet needy whine the second he’s shooting thin milky ropes into you. thick, stringy ribbons of cum envelope inside your pussy with warmth right away. “f- fuck, dammit,” he’d grunt, burying his face into the crook of your neck. satoru’s beefy body presses right up against yours, and he’s shivering at the feeling. it’s unlike any feeling he’s ever felt, and you giggle the second you hear him loudly sigh. “ugh, that wasn’t supposed ‘ta happen.”
“thought you knew what you were doin’, baby,” you cheekily reply, a few beads of sweat racing down the left side of your forehead. satoru sits up, leaning into your ginger embraces—your palm cupping his temple. he’s pouting, an unsatisfied pout extending across each side of his lips.
“i- i doo,” he whines, feeling his thighs starting to heat up near the undersides. satoru clenches his teeth, groaning once you gradually wrap your legs around his slim waist. he’s hot, and you’ve got him wrapped around your pretty ‘lil finger.
wide, crystal blue eyes meet your gaze before satoru exhales into your neck. “mnh, let me try again, baby,” and right as you rub your ankle down his tense back muscles, he gruffs. snowy flapping lashes of his shut tight before he wraps a hand around his lanky cock. “pleasee, c’mon baby. lemme prove myself. i’ll get it this time for real.”
a smile marinates its way against your features as you hum, rubbing a thumb down his sensitive undercut. for a second, you could have sworn you heard satoru purr as he leaned into your touch. you almost forgot how much of a tender spot that was for him. cute.
“okay, go ‘head,” and both of your thighs were practically sticking together. such amounts of his seed glue against your thighs—almost like it was some kind of clingy adhesive. satoru pulls out for a moment, eager to get a look at the sloppy mess and oh.. it was a lot - he came a lot, and satoru couldn’t help but stare at the luminous streams of cum that teared down your polished cunt.
it’s sloppy. satoru’s eyes widen once he feels his tip glide its way against your cervix. right near your g-spot - it’s fuckin’ bumpy, and he feels your legs eagerly twitch the minute his dick slides its way near a spongy area. you’re moaning, laid back before satoru starts to whine.
he can’t help but whimper, softly smacking his swollen tip on your entrance. satoru had no idea what to do next, but he just wanted to play with your pretty pussy some more. the loud echoey smacks from his dick onto your folds make his ears ring…pap after pap and he’s pronounced feral. but that’s right when you hear him sniffle, literally getting lost in your pussy the second he feels your cute pulse on his round, mushroomy tip.
as you wrap your arms around him, hearing him whine once you rub a thumb down his undercut, feeling him awkwardly trying to align himself again with a bashful needy grin.
“toru, are you cryin’?”
#CHOSO KAMO aka the virgin who barely lasts?!
“o- oh, fuckk,” he’d whine, twinkling eyes widening the second he’s watching your tummy cave in from behind. you’re so pretty like this, bent over, sprawled all out on all fours. choso’s stiffly still at first, and he’s very awkward with his hands. bulged, umber-colored eyes bore into your backside, gazing at your skin. stunning, choso grunts as he pistons his hips, glancing at the sunlight that radiates off a shiny part of your spine.
in choso’s eyes, you’re breathing pretty - art, and with the way your skin glimmers in the sun, you looked like a rare painting. “baby, you’re so warm inside.”
“mhm, don’t stop ‘cho,” you moan in response, feeling your loose jaw start to droop allll the way down. you nibble near the inside of your gummy cheek, gasping at just how big he is. his cock was huge, and it didn’t take him long at all to fit nice ‘n snug. its a semi-tight fit that makes your mouth start to water from the inside and you whine. “fuuck, ‘s okay, choso,” and he feels you wriggling your ass against him. choso’s eyes dart towards your bouncy rear and he huffs. “spank it.”
a shuddering breath leaves from choso’s pink parted lips before he lowly rasps. “yeah?” and you felt yourself throb, feeling him press himself all up against you. now, choso’s gently hovering his weight over your back whilst he’s still presenting you with passionate deep strokes. slowly but surely—he’s getting the hang of it, rummaging through your fleshy clingy insides with each punctuating hit. choso’s gruff heavy breaths fan down your neck before he moans, creeping a hand toward your ass. “i can spank you, baby?”
“mmh,” you whimper in response, hearing the salaciously wanton squelches of your cunt help out louder. saying that you were wet was a mere understatement, you were pouring all down his dick with your slick. choso could feel the wetted mess trail between your legs, coating the front of his thighs entirely with your viscid sap. he’s heard about intimacy but it was an entirely different thing to experience it firsthand. “spank me, choso. ‘s okay, you can be a ‘lil rough.”
“ ‘kay,” he huffs, and you let off a soft squeal the second his palm sharply swats against your ass. oh, he liked that. the way your rear recoiled, pretty skin bouncing quickly for a few seconds—all from a small whacking hit. the brief sting made your cunt pulse sporadically as he was still drilling into you. pump after pump, choso turns pussy drunk within seconds. “hah, you’re so fuckin’ hot,” he whines, tracing a hand down the pretty curvature of your ass. his fingers dance down every juncture, and it’s almost heart-shaped. “baby, you’re makin’ me feel so—fuck.”
choso gets cut off from his words the moment he feels his dick throb between your soddened cunt. you’re wringing him dry, all while your head is cutely smushed up against your pillow. choso’s speed quickly starts to get relentless, and after a while, he’s starting to understand the human body just a bit more. “ah, choso. fuck me, fuck!” you’d whimper, a curling sensation arising within your toes right as he slams his way into your cervix.
it’s a direct hit, a k.o. as some would might say—and it’s almost as if you’ve got stars ‘n imaginary birds flying over your head like a cartoon because choso’s dick had you stupid.
“somethin’s c- comin’,” he moans, slightly lifting your leg to get a better view. it’s probably been a few minutes and choso’s already panting like a dog. he’s feral - softly planting a stripe of wet kisses down your neck as he’s buried balls deep. “ugh, baby. ‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, ngh.”
“inside, ‘cho. ‘s okay,” you whine, feeling his pace grow more relentless and sloppy. choso’s gripping your waist tightly, his bottom lip quivering as he’s feeling a sudden rush overtake his entire body. you’re perfect - he wanted to keep you like this forever, plug you full and keep you warm. you could hear his rough, heavy pants from behind you until he finally came.
whitish thick ribbons pour into you all at once, shooting deep into your womb.
it’s hot - physically and literally.
you’re arched over for him like a bridge and he’s whimpering, furrowing his darkened brows with a pout as choso slowly starts to flood your cunt. globs of sleek strings spray inside your gripping cunt as he gradually pulls out, openly watching as you’re moaning. the feeling of your walls wrapping around his cock had him feeling fuzzy. “m- mhm, choso,” you’d mewl out, hearing him cutely gasp once your cunt sloshes loudly, spitting out thin clumps of his cum. “ ‘m so full.”
“hah- ‘n you’re gonna get even fuller, baby,” he huffs, a pout still glossing over his slickly-wet lips as he stares at your pussy. it’s pretty like this, he thinks. from top to bottom—you’re stuffed full of his gooey hot cum, so much to where it’s shamelessly oozing out of your puffed slit, racing down your numb jittery thighs. you moan, feeling choso drag a thumb down your sobbing, slobbering slit before popping his thumb into his mouth, licking his mess right off his finger.
choso moans at the taste before pouting. “not done, one more round,” and as he glides his tongue across his digit, choso gives your cunt a soft spank before groaning, softly pushing your knees to your chest.
“ ‘m still hungry.”
#TOJI FUSHIGURO aka the virgin who gets humbled?!
“heh. do y’r worst, baby,” toji would snicker, bringing a spank to your ass as he leans back against the couch. lazily, he’s slouching with a half-filled can of cheap beer in his hand. he’s smug, and not only was he smug but he was also virgin - the cockiest.
it’s funny because toji didn’t know what the fuck he was doing…however, he was more than willing for you to ‘show him’ how to feel good.
of course—he’s haughty that you won’t be able to take him, but it’s much to be expected for a pompous fratboy. “mmh, goddamn,” he’d grunt, peering down at your glossed weeping pussy. it’s wet, and as you straddle him, toji squeezes the energy drink in his hand. “slow, baby s- slow.”
with a cooing whisper, you sprinkle a few kisses near the inside of his neck. “slower, toji? but you’re the one who kept rushin’ me,” you tease, and from your peripherals, you can see his jaw tensing. fuck, the moment your cunt starts to ease down on his length in a gradually paced manner, toji groans. it’s a low husky groan - the groan where he’s already tossing his head back.
“y’r bein’ a brat,” he snarls, sliding an arm around your waist. your pussy was hypnotic - and you wearing one of his oversized jade-colored frat hoodies only made things ten times worse. you looked so pretty, and he couldn’t help but trail his hooded eyes down your body, stopping at the hem of your waist and right near your ass. “fuck- slow, baby. ‘m damn sensitive,” and you watch the sly smirk that was once plastered on his scarred lips slowly starting to fade. toji’s getting more ‘n more pussy drunk, and he knows it too. “mhh, like that. fuck me good.”
“you talk too much,” you teasingly grip his chin, watching as his leafy verdant eyes gaze into yours. he’s hard - and not only is he hard but he’s insanely sensitive. toji scoffs, but that soon disappears the moment your hips start to move. “hnghh,” you suck in a brisk breath, eyes nearly widening once you start to feel the gaping, lewd stretch. his cock was long ‘n tall—merrily expanding through your cunt within each thick inch.
one thrust - just one fuckin’ thrust and that was all it took for you to nearly break. he’s huge, and you whimper the second you feel his plump swollen sack kiss near the undersides of your bare ass. “oh yeah? make me shut up then.”
famous last words.
because even though toji’s all talk, he gets humbled right away the minute you change him as a person entirely all from your sweet, mesmerizing cunt. toji leans back, groaning gruffly against your ear as faint gurgled whines depart from his throat. you’re riding him good, shutting him with your pussy—humbling him with your hips. oh, you’re just riding him into complete oblivion. toji was left speechless, and instead of you moaning his name, he was moaning yours.
“ngh, fuck. god, ‘s good don’t fuckin’ stop workin’ those hips, s- shit,” he’d huskily snarl, squeezing the plastic can within his palm, crushing its shape. toji’s cologne scent was loud, and it completely rubbed off against your skin as you moaned. you were grinding against him back ‘n forth, whining continuously before milliseconds passed by and you’re now starting to feel your stomach churn churn churn.
each eye rolling, toe-curling feeling that twists in the depths of your insides due to his cock makes you sob out moan after moan. you try to silence yourself by sneaking a few needy kisses near toji’s scarred lip. he grunts with a clenched jaw, returning the gesture with a hand glued to your ass.
it moves like water - toji was always an ass man, and now that he was finally living the dream, he spanked you again, and again, and again.
the jiggle against his palm makes his dick throb, and you feel it right inside of your cunt. “doin’ okay, toji?” you tease breathlessly, watching as a shiny string of saliva tears away from both lips. you felt him squeeze his way wholly inside of your fleshy entrance, ploddingly and sloppily thrusting in and out.
“tch. less talkin’ more ridin—oh fuck,” he’d gruff, his shoulders slackening as you sensually rutted your hips further into him. god, you were teasing him so much and your wet, filthy cunt was to blame. he wanted more, more more. the way you moved in such a relentless manner drove toji crazy and he was starting to think maybe the two of you were just more than roommates. your pussy had that kind of power, and it’s not even seconds later before toji’s about to cum.
but surprisingly, he ends up lifting you with burly arms, pulling out with a speed equivalent to the flash. he moans, staring at his leaking reddened tip that’s dribbling from the slit with sticky droplets of warm cum. he’s heaving, staring back at your sparkly-coated cunt before he makes you recline back against the couch.
“f- fuck, ‘s much. lie back, baby. l- lie back for me,” and once you do, he merely pounces on you. toji exhales out a deep, heavy sigh before aligning his swollen tip near your dripping cunt. “god, look at ‘er,” he grunts, and you could hear the tremor in his voice as he’s spraying his seed on the outer part of your wetted entrance. it’s long, striped stripes of ivory ropes that paint your bare tender clit and he licks his lips at the filthy sight. “hah, so fuckin’ hot. milkin’ me like that, f- fuck.”
“you came pretty quick, toji,” you jibe, spreading your sopping cunt lips apart so he could play between your legs some more. with a loud ‘thwack’, toji smacks his swollen tip against your pussy, smearing his blushing crownhead up ‘n down your stained crying slit. it’s so messy, and you watch as his tongue briefly sticks out between his ruby lips.
“let’s not talk ‘bout that,” toji grumps, and you moan the second he’s re-aligning himself. his fat girth was ready to introduce itself yet again to your swollen insides. toji’s still panting, and you can see how flustered he was because he’s visibly pouting. “f- fuck, i . . i need a minute,” and he pulls back out, slouching back against the couch. you crawl over toward him and within a split second he wraps an arm around you.
yeah, he’s obsessed.
“give me . . a minute,” he huffs, his chiseled abs flexing through his grey dingy tank. toji pulls you into his beefy hardened pecs before staring down at you, and your eyes widen once he kisses the top of your forehead. “next time, ‘m gonna last ten- no, thirteen rounds.”
“sureee thing, big guy.”
spoiler - he doesn’t.
#INO TAKUMA aka the virgin who…falls in love?!
ino who moans out a sweet gasping, “f- fuuck me,” the second he’s easing his way inside of you for the first time. his dick feels soft for a second, tenderly assuaging through your insides before he whimpers at the new feeling. ino’s heavily panting out short breaths, staring at your bare exposed body that prettily sits underneath him before he moans. “ ‘m not hurtin’ you, right, angel?”
“no, no. ‘m fine, ino,” you let off a soft sigh, the lower parts of your legs snaking around his waist. ino grunts, going as slow as he can. he’s barely even a few inches in and he’s already sweating profusely. “easyy, that’s it, baby,” you reassure him with labored breaths, staring into his droopy hooded eyes. ino’s beanie was on the verge of sliding off the side of his head before he sucks his teeth at your gripping warmth. “hold my hand, here,” and you could feel his body shudder the moment you intertwine your fingers against his.
he’s big, and he knows it. ino scrunches his dark brows into a furrow, trying his best to blindly navigate his way inside of your cunt. right away, you’re clenching around him tight, locking your unstable legs around his waist before hearing him let off a sweet whimper.
“ugh, you feel so good, so good,” and within each wet-sounding thrust, his words start to pitch. it gets lower ‘n lower, raspy and husky. ino’s skin starts to glue against you thanks to the splotches of sweat dampening against each other before he huffs. “tell me it's too much, ngh—fuck,” and his eyes soften the moment you cup his face. “s- sorryy, am i talkin’ too much?”
“ ‘s okay, ino,” you inhale, and his pace starts to get quicker. vast, thorough thrusts make you feel every inch. his frantic rhythm rocks into you steadily, causing the bed to constantly wail out pathetic whiney creaks. you brush a thumb across the side of his cheek before moaning, feeling his tip zigzag its way across your sensitive g-spot. “ah! right there, ino. there, baby t- thereee.”
“there, oh- okay,” he tries to take note, studying your body’s movements. into felt his cock twitch at your reaction. so cute. you’d clench around him tight before arching your back, dragging your nails down his soft skin. ino’s stretching you out to the very limit, plummeting his dick into you over and over until you’re seeing nothing but cloudy blobs of white. you hadn’t even realized your eyes were lulling near the back of your head before he cheekily pointed it out. “heh, you look kinda silly like this pretty girl.”
you shoot him a playful glare whilst he’s still driving himself into your mid-thrust and ino sheepishly snickers. “sorry, sorry,” and with a sticky smooch, he brings his lips up against yours. ino’s pace starts to pick up more and more, championing his chiseled askew hips into you. “ah, i think ‘m gonna cum though, shitshitshit,” and as he’s rambling, ino starts to feel his hips into you quicker. “hah, lovie- tell me what ‘ta do. where do i f- finish,” he’d huff breathlessly, sliding his scarred hands near the sides of your waist. “tell me, pretty.”
“inside, baby,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. ino’s eyes widen - darkening, and he groans. the way you talked to him so sweet in his ear, even licking against the outer lobe makes him shiver. you’re a tease, and he only wanted more. ino wanted more . . of you. “wan’ you inside.”
“say it again,” he shakily whines against your neck, nipping a few invisible kisses near the juncture of your exposed collarbone. you tasted sweet, and ino’s mind spun cogwheels throughout each second he’s spent buried inside of you. “talk ‘ta me in that pretty voice- wanna hear you again. p- please.”
with a sobbing mewl from the brief twinges that slowly form into pleasure—you repeat yourself in a desperate mewling cry of, “inside, ino. please, f- fuck me,” and oh- if you saw the look on his face. his heart’s pounding as he’s mercilessly driving his hips into you at full fuckin’ throttle.
ino’s groaning into your neck, feeling his body growing limp before a lengthy multitude of seconds goes by and he’s cumming, hard.
it’s a thin hefty load - runny, stringy ribbons of feverish hot cum that splatters deep inside of you.
ino melts like a puddle into your embrace as you wrap your arms around him. “fuuuck, i lo-” he pauses, getting silenced by a shattering breath. your pussy’s got him secured on a leash, and he’s groaning once he hears himself pour such slimy amounts way into your womb. it sprays everywhere, painting inside and out.
ino kisses his teeth sharply, pressing one more kiss near the tip of your nose before moaning. “h- heh, think i love you, angel,” and you moan, feeling him slowly raise your leg, tossing it over your shoulder.
a hand of his creeps between your gloss-coated, gooey legs that practically stuck together before he pulls out midway, smearing a palm against your stuffed pussy. “ ‘n i love her especially, s- so much.”
#★vegasbaby.#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#nanami smut#choso smut#toji smut#gojo smut#geto smut#ino x reader#ino smut#nanami x reader#choso x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#toji x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk headcanons#female reader#kinktober#anime smut#cw sex mention
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She's not on the poll and I'm biased but I also think Aisha Worm would be good personally
This should not be a "who do I like the most post"
It's a who would make the best story.
I've only picked from capes who had been introduced pre leviathan and who survived in canon (so the only change is Taylor also dies). So it's not wildbow jumping to a character introduced 3 seconds ago (i.e weld, fletchette)
I didn't have infinite poll choices, so I picked based largely on vibes and a discussion with a mate about characters with potentially interesting story threads.
I know some people may wish their character was on the list. Sorry, only 12 choices.
I'd love to hear anyone's arguments for or against characters!
Edit:
Just realised I forgot to put bitch...
Oh well.
Side discussion:
What would the story be like with the character you chose as a protag?
And
How would they interact with some set plot points? (S9 will wanna pop by post leviathan, wildbow would have cauldron be shown or revealed, Scion)
#i dont think you could turn her into khepri#but i do think her narrative has themes of being forced to continue after watching the people she cares about die in front of her#which would be an interesting foil against Scion Killing Everything Because He Experienced Loss for a finale#even if aisha isnt the one orchestrating the final blow
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wasteland

decades after the destruction of judgement day, you return to the abyss meadow—now an empty wasteland. a painful walk down memory lane has you remembering all the sinful things sylus did to you on the day he’d brought you to the blooming field of blood-red datura.
━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: dragon!sylus x female reader (afab)
━ ✧.˖ GENRE: smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings/angst, angst with slight/no comfort (depends how you want to look at it), fluff, continuation of myths
━ .ᐟ✧ WORD COUNT: 15.9k
━ ✧.˖ WARNINGS: mdni, explicit sexual content, dragon!sylus, two dicks!sylus, dom!sylus, monsterfucking, HEAVY SPOILERS and references to sylus’s lore/myths (beyond cloudfall), themes of depression/trauma/loss of a loved one, marking (scratching and biting) and possessive behavior, implied virginity loss (both mc and sylus), slight BARELY coercion (trust me mc is more than willing), p in v, fingering with claws, eating out, face riding, horns as handlebars, belly bulge, belly swelling from cum, double penetration (in v), slight bondage with sylus’s tail, no protection, breeding kink, talks of mating and pregnancy, multiple orgasms, somewhat angst no comfort (depends how you look at it), has some comfort, some fluff, lots and lots of smut, knotting, fucking with knot, lots of overstimulation, boobie play, lots of making out, lots of biting, use of Y/N, use of petnames (sweetheart, little dragon, dove, sparrow, love, sorceress), slight references to ‘please & thank you’ fic (easter egg dialogue hehe), will add more warnings as needed
━ .ᐟ✧ LINKS: wasteland song - has arcane spoilers (please listen to before reading) | wasteland song - no arcane spoilers | beyond cloudfall myths | ao3
━ ✧.˖ A/N: helloooooo she is finally here jfc. first and foremost PLEASE listen to the song linked above before reading as it was a HEAVY inspiration for the angst portion of the fic, as well as parts of the fluff. of course it’ll still make sense without watching and listening but i think it’s much more impactful with, otherwise the lyrics are whatever haha.
the song is wasteland - royal & the serpent from the netflix series arcane by riot games! highly recommend watching if you haven’t :)
secondly, this fic contains HEAVY HEAVY spoilers and references to ‘beyond cloudfall’ - sylus’s second myth set, which i’ve also linked above. if you haven’t done those and care about spoilers, i would not recommend reading this. also it won’t make as much sense if you don’t know what happened in those myths, but the smut still makes sense re: sylus is a dragon.
please enjoy <3 i will admit this was really difficult for me to finish, i don’t know what it was, i lost steam half way through and really had to force myself. i am not 100% happy with the way it turned out, but i also did really enjoy writing it! i think i cried multiple times writing this lmao
will likely be on a writing hiatus. if i do write it will be for caleb :D until next time friends. i love you <3
THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.
✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖ nsfw | minors dni | 18+ only | minors dni | nsfw ✦ . ˖ ✧ .ᐟ ˖

♫ I've held on for as long as I can, For the ones that I had to defend, I've been strong every day of my life, If she wants, death could take me this time. ♪
♪ This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow, I used to have strength, but I ran out of hope, I know it's my fault that I'm here all alone, This world is a wasteland, Please let me go, go, go, go, go, go, go. ♫
♫ If I could just lay my head down and rest, If there was nothing to fight or protect, Maybe then I could finally be free, Maybe death is like falling asleep. ♪
Hollow requiems echo in the recesses of your numbed soul, overtaken by the howling of the violent wind. Your heels crunch against barren ground, covered in fragments of basalt and granite, a speckled sea of death.
It was hard to imagine that this very valley was once covered in countless blossoming blood-red datura, peppered across the vast green fields of the meadow. Like the twinkling stars in the open night sky you’d spent many hours staring up at, atop the cliff top lair you briefly called home, years ago.
The memory of the blooming flowers, nestled against the stark contrast of those powerful ebony horns, the faint notes of requiems once sung under the gleaming moonlight, taunt you as they resonate in your aching mind. Your tail flickers, soul clenching in distaste.
Or perhaps it was your fragmented, barely-beating, heart. It was hard to tell these days.
You draw a shaky breath, willing your body to continue forward. It’d been decades since you’d last come here. After the events of the last Doomsday, events that you were all too familiar with, Philos had fallen to chaos and ruin. Tarus City was no exception.
And of course, the meadow had not been spared.
Guilt gnaws at you, clawing deeper than any beast ever could. The meadow–the resting place of your beloved. Your dragon.
Sylus.
Of course, it looked a little different now. Nothing like the day he’d pressed his lips to your forehead for the last time, his soul returning to the clouds above.
You stare out into the rolling hills of charred forests, the arid rivers snaking through the canyon like a dragon’s spine. Flecks of ember from the destruction of Doomsday still flit against the winds around you like dancing midnight petals. But there’s no flowers in sight. Not a single one.
The endless crimson mountain range stretches around you like an aegis, almost as if trying to protect the innocence that was once kept hidden here. A lifetime ago.
What a joke.
Everything you had ever held dear, ripped from your hands. Flaunted before you, reminding you of how helpless you’d been to fate’s cruel whims.
♪ This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow. ♫
“What I desire is to live freely and die without regrets.” You’d said that, once upon a time.
Did you?
If you died tomorrow, could you say you had no regrets?
Your fists clench at your sides, your claws digging into your palms, sure to break skin and draw blood. You knew the answer to that.
You’d devoted your life to filling countless troves with what treasures remained on the empty husk of Philos and enacting revenge on the members of the Sanctuary and Legion that’d survived Doomsday. Revenge and plunder, just like old times.
The day those horns had dawned from your head, your tail descending from your spine, you’d become one with Sylus. He gave you power; he gave you freedom.
So why now, when you’d accomplished everything you’d always wanted, did your life feel anything but free?
Everything you thought you’d wanted.
So what did you want now?
“You know, Tarus City can have flowers that bloom everywhere, as far as the eye can see.”
Your breath catches in your throat, the sound of his voice in your mind is as clear as the first time you’d heard it in the obsidian chapel. The same moonlit chapel in which you’d promised your souls to one another.
Lead weighs on your chest as you gaze out at the desolate fields, once a spiritual sanctuary for Sylus and you. Could it ever return to the way it was? Could flowers really bloom here again?
You’d give anything to see just one of those ruby moonflowers again, petals the same shade of scarlet as the eyes you’d dreamt of, time and again.
But like those beautiful eyes, you knew deep down. You’d never see those daturas again.
♫ I used to have strеngth, but I ran out of hope. ♪
You resolve yourself to go numb, as you had countless nights before, when dreams alluded you and nightmares sought you. Your body moves mindlessly on its own, your eyes glazed as you watch the cloudless sky above.
Would Sylus be disappointed if he saw you now? An empty shell of the sorceress that’d unsealed him from the Abyss and freed him in more ways than one.
Once upon a time, you could put on a brave mask in the face of losing your dragon.
But over time, the memory of his body, heavy and whole, fading in your arms, the petals of his soul slipping through your trembling fingers, etched itself into your soul. No matter how hard you tried to forget, you’d always remember. And because of that, your courage quickly turned into a searing rage that consumed every fiber of your being.
What would he think?
Well, you’ll never know will you? The voice in your head taunts, unmistakably yours, yet foreign and faraway.
Since you’re the one who plunged that sword into his heart.
♪ I know it’s my fault that I’m here all alone. ♫
Eventually, you find yourself atop a small clearing overlooking the entire valley. An eerie sense of familiarity grapples at you as you stare out into the horizon, feeling nearly as empty as the land before you.
You’re not sure when it started to happen. The days started to feel longer. You could no longer hear the melody in songs, see the beauty in patterns, taste the flavors in fruits you once loved.
All things unnecessary to a dragon’s survival.
Were you surviving? Your heart was beating, blood coursed through your veins, air traveled through your lungs, and yet…
You didn’t feel alive.
♫ This world is a wasteland. ♪
The wind howls on, the swirling ash making your eyes prickle. You turn on your heel to leave. There’s nothing left for you here. Nothing but fragments of the life you could’ve had, with Sylus.
But as the sun melts into the sky, descending into the crimson expanse of mountains, your soul is hit with memories so clear you double over, clutching your shoulder as it throbs.
“Only you and this flower…can touch me here.”
You stifle a sob, your other hand coming up to cover your mouth as you stare out into the bittersweet dusk. The way the waning light descends the scarlet contours, perfectly framing the once picturesque grove. And then it hits you, all at once like a wave crashing against you, pulling you under, until you can’t breathe.
This is the exact spot Sylus had taken you to the first time he’d brought you to the Abyss Meadow. After the night you’d promised your souls to one another.
The exact spot he’d let you weave those same delicate daturas into his horns, grimacing adorably the entire time as you did so. Where you rolled around the meadow grasses in his willful arms, revenge and the Sanctuary a long forgotten thought, just you and your dragon.
The spot he’d kissed you for the very first time. The first of what you’d thought would be a lifetime of kisses shared with him.
Where you’d shared yourselves wholly, bodies and soul, every touch a promise, every kiss a vow.
The mark on your shoulder burns, your vision hazing with tears that you’re not sure you can blame on the ash anymore. Clenching your eyes shut, you blink them away, trying to steel your resolve and push the memories back down, where you’d kept them hidden for decades.
♪ I'm not ready to face it. ♫
But they rattle violently in the cage you’d built for them, your spirit is unrelenting. Or perhaps, it’s the remnants of his own soul etched into yours that refuse to let you fade completely into the darkness.
♫ Don't go saying goodbye. ♪
Eventually the branding waves of agony that radiated from the bite thrum to a pulsing halt, replaced with a heat that was all too familiar. You finally crack open your teary eyes, your vision filled with the breathtaking canvas of sunset.
The colors cast the withered meadow in the same breathtaking glow from that day.
♫ There's a beauty in changes, and I wanna try. ♪
–
Red.
Growing up in the Ivory City, you were surrounded by nothing but the blinding incandescence of white marble that was said to symbolize purity and prosperity. On the other hand, the children of the Sanctuary had been conditioned to associate the color red with Doomsday, the Fiend, and death.
But as the flecks of vermillion heat sparkled in Sylus’s eyes, his sultry gaze flickering to your lips, you knew you’d never known a color so beautiful.
“But only for one person,” he murmurs, claws gently gripping your neck, his other hand stroking the datura he’d placed behind your ear. Sylus takes a second to admire the delicate flower, imagining Tarus City covered in them. And you, among them, serenading those familiar requiems for him.
His hooded eyes meet yours again, and a low growl elicits from his chest as his body is overcome with a burning need to claim you. His beloved.
“Sylus…” you plead breathily, squirming under his gaze and shifting atop him, still straddling him in the field of blooming red moonflowers. Sylus hisses, his slackened jaw twitching and his claws digging into your chin, bringing you closer.
“You had better watch yourself, my little sorceress,” Sylus purrs dangerously, fighting to maintain control, “I should warn you–”
Your heart hammers, pounding audibly in your ears, as Sylus pulls you the rest of the distance in. His bottom lip grazes against yours as his eyes flutter shut, his breath hot and sweet, “I don’t have the patience to wait any longer.”
He wastes no time before furiously crashing his lips to yours, claiming what was his. His claws are deliciously possessive as they trace your racing pulse, savoring the way your body trembles under his touch.
You moan into his open lips when his fingers softly wrap around your neck, the tips of his ebony talons tracing soft patterns into your skin. He smirks against your lips, taking the opportunity to push his hot tongue against yours, tasting every inch of you.
The world around you fades away, your senses filled with only him. You can vaguely feel his tail wrapping around your thigh, the tip stroking the bare skin of your calf as you tightly clutch his hips.
The raw passion of his tongue against yours makes it feel as if he’s nearly breathing fire into your soul, his body growing more demanding as he feels your heat pulse against the growing bulge in his pants. The intoxicating smell of your arousal nearly sends him into a frenzy, and it takes everything within him to not throw you under him right then and there.
When you finally pull away to breathe, you’re a panting blushing mess. Sylus on the other hand only smirks up at you, his frustratingly beautiful face lightly dusted in a peachy sheen. Overcome with the urge to wipe the smug look off his face, you brush your thumb across his kiss-bitten bottom lip, forcefully resituating yourself on his lap. You bite back your grin when he hisses, his claws digging into the fat of your hips.
“What did you mean, when you said ‘you couldn’t wait any longer’?” you tease, fueled with confidence as you watch his vermillion eyes darken, the muscles of his abdomen tensing as your hands trace their way down his body. When your fingers graze the blood-red gem embedded in his chest, Sylus’s hand catches your wrist, his grip firm yet tender.
He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing your palm into his lips, “Do you really need me to say it?”
You bat your eyelashes innocently at him, pouting, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Sylus’s chest rumbles as he chuckles, his eyes gleaming mischievously. His eyes never leave yours, the heated desire in them making the arousal between your legs increase, as he kisses your fingertips one by one.
“Dragons are solitary,” he says, kissing the pad of each finger. His tail uncoils from your thigh, only to loosely wrap around your waist, reminding you of how the mountain cat would twist its tail around your ankle.
“We grow up together, in packs,” his words are melancholic, as if remembering a painful memory, but when his ruby eyes return to yours they shine as bright as the waning sun above you, “But when we reach adulthood, we tend to go off on our own.”
You pondered his words, waiting for him to go on and doing your best to swallow the lump of emotions that’d formed in your throat at the thought of Sylus, alone for centuries. He nips at your fingers, his tongue coming out to lick tenderly at your skin.
The swirling heat in his crimson orbs are shadowed under his thick eyebrows, the very eye you’d been so drawn to boring into your newly intertwined souls.
“Can you recall what that human said that day at the market? The merchant?”
You nod curiously, biting back the shiver as Sylus continues to lick at your skin, daring further and letting his canines graze you, “Yes. That the Fiend would meet his destined archnemesis once more.”
His hands abandon yours, settling instead around your waist. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he beckons you down towards him, the corners of his lips quirking upward as he watches you squirm, a faint gasp escaping your parted mouth when his claws inch their way up your exposed back.
“Archnemesis…” he scoffs cryptically, pushing your body down against his chest, wrapping his thick arms around your smaller body, “Such a foolish human concept.”
Sylus shifts so that you’re lying completely on top of him, his tail securing you against his heavy abdomen, the unmistakable outline of something large and terrifying pressed against your core.
“Fate binds souls together–it’s written in the cosmos far above the clouds before the existence of time. Two souls that are a reflection of each other, in enmity and devotion. It’s much more than a mere destined archnemesis. This is the way of the world.”
The weight of his words begins to dawn on you, the meaning of them pressing heavily on your thundering heart. Sylus presses his lips to the mark he’d left on your shoulder in what felt like a lifetime ago.
“Ngh–!” you cry, Sylus’s teeth sinking into you. He bites down, tail constricting around you, wanting to hold you closer–tighter. You squirm against him, fingers pulling at his silver tresses, nearly seeing white as the pleasure and pain simultaneously shoots out from the crook of your neck, ebbing into every nerve of your body.
You can feel Sylus’s smug smile against your throbbing skin, his own hips coming up to grind torturously against you. He’d grown painfully hard, his cock unbearably hard in the restraints of his pants, fighting its way to get to you.
“Dragons live in solitude for the remainder of their lives,” he continues, his lips suddenly at your ear as you’re panting into his hard chest, trying to control your pathetic moans, “But some are fortunate enough to find–what you humans might call–their soulmates.”
Sylus grabs your jaw, forcing you to focus your hazy eyes on his. Though his grip is bruising, his thumb strokes soothing circles into your skin.
“A dragon mates for eternity, in this life and the next. There is only one–if even that.”
“Archnemesis, soulmate, mate. Call it what you will,” he whispers huskily, the desire in his voice palpable as he brings your chin in, his eyes darkening with a mix of lust and adoration. Your chest flutters as you take in the implication of Sylus’s words. The puzzle pieces of your fractured life began to fall into place–the Sanctuary, the weapon inside you, the golden lamp you’d treasured. Everything.
“I have known your soul was destined for mine, long before you pulled that Gods-forsaken sword out of my chest,” Sylus growls, nearly feral as the last of his patience snaps. You dissolve into a fit of squeals as Sylus effortlessly flips you under him, his hands cupping the back of your head and your lower back protectively as your body hits the plush meadow grass.
“And I can’t wait a moment longer.”
He wastes absolutely no time in bringing your lips to his once more, swallowing your moans and replacing them with his own heated breath. Your hands claw at any part of Sylus they can reach, nails leaving behind a red trail of passion that makes him groan with excitement.
Possessed with the need for more, you wrap your thighs around his waist, using your legs to cage him against you. Sylus’s grip in your hair tightens as he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your feverishly panting lips. His other hand comes down to clutch your thigh, his fingers crawling under your dress.
“Y/N. Do you know what you’re doing?” he pants, chest heaving, pupils blown with a lust so dangerous that your instincts are screaming at you to run. You bring your hands up to cup his face, mustering up all your courage.
“Why don’t you enlighten me?” you whisper, your eyes fluttering as you trail your fingers down his chest, resting them right above his belt and letting your fingernails delicately stroke the hair that leads to his pelvis.
A primal snarl erupts from Sylus’s chest at your blatant teasing, and in the blink of an eye you find your wrists bound above your head, his thick tail wrapped around them like a rope, his knee forcing your thighs apart.
“Just so you know, my love,” he leans in, face inches from yours, his arrogant smile hauntingly beautiful and terrifying all at once. He dips into the crook of your neck, heated breath washing over your mark, “Dragons are not known to show mercy.”
“I can handle it, Sylus,” you retort defiantly, though your trembling voice almost betrays you. Sylus only chuckles, his eyes glinting wildly at you, swirling with the darkness of all the things he wants to do to you.
“That’s my girl.”
You’re unable to speak further, crying out when Sylus’s fingers, that’d found their way under the skirt of your dress, demandingly cup your leaking sex, his lips latching onto the burning mark on your shoulder once more.
His tongue on your neck alone is enough to have you writhing under him, begging and pleading for more. The pleasure is so overwhelmingly blinding that your eyes are squeezed shut, body convulsing involuntarily to even his gentlest touches. You’d surmise that it must’ve had something to do with what he’d said about your fate bonded souls, that made your body react so violently to his.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t let you ponder it further, his finger dipping in between your dripping core to snap your attention back to him.
“Are you still with me, sweetheart?” he coos, brushing his middle finger up and down your weeping slit, careful to only brush against you with his calloused skin, keeping his claws tucked away. You glare up at him, weakly slapping his forearm that was wedged between your shaking thighs. You open your mouth to snark at him, but Sylus uses that moment to stroke your clit with the pointed edge of his talon.
“Sylus!” you cry, halfway between a moan and a scream, “Ahhngh–p-please!”
“Mmm? What’s that?” Sylus murmurs, twitching his fingers to ever-so-slightly caress your aching clit with his claws. “Begging for more already?”
Your back lifts off the ground, the feeling of his fingers on your cunt so sharp and dizzying that your mind is caught between wanting to squirm away but needing to chase more. But it seems your body knows exactly what it wants, arching further into his hand, forcing his fingers further into you.
Your hands come up to grasp the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair and gently stroking the base of his jagged ebony horns. Sylus freezes, his jaw tightening, a choked grunt escaping him, despite how badly he tries to hold it back. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you.
“Sylus?” you whisper incredulously, your fingers pausing, “Does that hurt?”
Sylus doesn’t answer, his breath coming out in shallow and needy pants, eyes shut as he hovers above you. His fingers have stilled, though still between your folds. Your worry dissipates when your eyes drift down, trailing down his trembling abdomen, all the way to the lump in his lap that ruts desperately against your thigh.
It’s then you realize that your formidable dragon does indeed have a weakness.
How adorable.
So with Sylus’s finger still parting your soaked lips, you use one hand to tenderly grab one of his horns, the other hand coming down to palm his bulge. His reaction makes you bite your lip with satisfaction, as his knees nearly buckle, still hovering above you, and his eyes filling with a volatile hunger.
“You never learn do you?” he bites out, but he doesn’t pull away, his body only leaning further into your touch. His head nuzzles ever so slightly into your fingers that are still intertwined into his hair, stroking his horns.
“I would say I’m faring quite well, wouldn’t you agree?” you croon, emboldened by the way his hips thrust down into your open palm, even if only imperceptibly.
At your adorably bold words, Sylus smirks at you, head cocked in amusement. His red eyes glimmer, a thick cloud of predatory desire swirling in the pools of garnet.
“You shouldn’t taunt a dragon, my love.”
You shriek when Sylus’s finger enters you, claw and all. You’re so wet that the brief sting of his lethal talon only serves to intensify the overwhelming waves of ecstasy he’s so deliberate in giving you. His finger moves so intentionally inside you, careful to only use the tip of his claw in ways that will have you clenching him for more.
Sylus swears under his breath as he watches the way you writhe against the ruby flora, his erection growing unbearably painful and wet within the constraints of his pants.
Dragons may not have the ability to recognize beauty. But as you clung to him, nails digging into his skin, sweet voice only capable of calling out for him, your wide eyes fluttering open and shut in overwhelming ecstasy…
Sylus knew there was nothing more beautiful in this world.
“Sy-Sylus,” you cry, “It’s t-too much. C-can’t–!” The dangerous feeling of his claws inside you is starting to make you delirious, your head dizzy with the need to come undone all over his fingers. The foreign pressure in your abdomen scares you into trying to scamper away from his hand, finger flicking inside your constricting walls
“Hm? Don’t you trust me sweetheart? I know exactly how much my little dragoness can take,” he murmurs gruffly, his thumb pressing harder into you. It seems Sylus knows exactly what he’s doing to you, because his tail wraps firmly around your waist, locking you in place, demanding you receive every bit of him.
“You can take another, hm?” he asks, but his tone all but commands it.
Your eyes widen; honestly you don’t think you can. Just one of his fingers has you feeling like you might pass out from the unfamiliar feelings of pleasure. Just one of his fingers has you feeling so full you might combust.
He’s on his knees between your legs now–the juxtaposition of such a formidable being kneeling before, pleading for your pleasure, makes your body clench with even more anticipation.
“D-don’t know if I ca-aan,” you whimper brokenly, body still pathetically arching into his hands, chasing an ecstasy you don’t even know if you can handle.
Sylus tuts gently, “Tch–you can. I need to stretch you out here before anything else can happen.”
You shiver at his words, trusting the foreboding warning wholeheartedly. Sylus was a dragon, after all, and you had no doubt he would be well-endowed, like everything else about him. Probably much more than your poor human body would be able to take.
And the thought of that alone makes you crave him like nothing before.
So you nod slowly, and Sylus smiles, the pride evident in his eyes.
“Good girl.”
Sylus tips your chin up towards him with the tip of his claw, capturing your lips into a kiss that steals your breath away. At the same time, he slips another finger into you.
He swallows your cries, and your fingers frantically grab hold of the grass around you, tearing and shredding at the green blades. If it weren’t for his tail wrapped around your waist, holding you in place, you’d be thrashing wildly, the ecstasy of his two fingers and claws inside your plush walls nearly unbearable.
Sylus’s nips at your lips, before his tongue replaces them and stakes claim to every inch of your mouth. He groans into you, using his spare hand to palm his painful erection, still restrained in the confines of his pants. When he pulls away, saliva dribbles down your chin, his lips trailing kisses down your jaw and to the shell of your ear.
“So tight around just my fingers,” Sylus seethes hungrily, his hand moving faster now, breath coming out shallow and hot against your ear, “I’m the only one that’s ever been here, hm?”
He curls his fingers inside you, his claws grazing just slightly against the spongy surface of your walls, demanding a verbal response from you. His voice drips with a possessive intensity that makes your entire body throb.
“Of course,” you whine, slightly embarrassed as your body arches up to meet his hand's ministrations, close to coming undone, “Wh-When would I have…at the Sanctuary…?”
A deep and satisfied rumble of satisfaction comes from Sylus’s chest, as he buries his face into your neck, inhaling your scent. Almost like a purr.
“Mine.”
With two of his fingers scissoring in and out of you, stretching you out to your max, you quickly feel like you’re about to absolutely burst, the edges of your vision turning white, stars clouding your sight.
“Ngghnh–Syluus…” you slur, your eyes watering, slightly terrified, “C-can’t anymore. Feels like m’gonna explode–!”
Sylus growls excitedly, fingers moving more insistently, literally trying to pull the orgasm out of you. The sounds of his palm slapping against dripping pussy grow louder and louder, all your senses overwhelmed until you’re on the verge of losing consciousness to it all.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” Sylus praises, his canines at your earlobes, his own voice tinged with a primal hunger that’s barely held back by a thin string of restraint, “Cum for me, just like that.”
Though his words are simple, there’s an underlying command that lies just beneath the surface. Sylus would never stoop as low as to beg for anything, dragons were incredibly prideful beings after all, but more than anything he needed to see you cum, right now–for the very first time. Something he’d imagined more times he’d care to admit, on the many late nights you’d shared looking up at the moon after a journey of ravaging and plundering treasures.
So instead of begging, Sylus sinks his teeth into the brand on your shoulder, once again laying his claim on you. Your sweet taste fills his mouth and he can’t stop the muffled moan that escapes him, devouring you to his absolute content, fingers never faltering once.
Your eyes roll into your head at the indescribable sensation of pain and pleasure that surge from your neck, the shockwaves connecting with the same spasms of ecstasy that emanate from his fingers buried in your cunt.
“Sy-Sylus—! Ngh–It’s c-coming!” you can’t stop yourself from screaming unabashedly, though it didn’t matter as Sylus made sure there wouldn’t be anyone for miles and miles, for this very reason.
He doesn’t respond, alternating between biting and licking affectionately–aggressively–at the place he had marked you as his. His tail tightens around you, making you feel so deliciously suffocated, in the best ways. Making it feel like your very life depended on him.
Your next breath of air, your unrelenting pleasure, your soul.
Sylus, Sylus, Sylus.
With a strangled cry of his name, you feel the foreign sensation of a tension cord snapping in your gut, followed by a warm gush of mind numbing euphoria that consumes your entire quivering body.
Sylus swears under his breath, his fingers slowing but not stopping, helping you ride out the lasting waves of your very first orgasm. He releases your tender skin from his teeth, his hot breath blowing against you. His claws capture your chin between them, gently pulling your head back down to meet his eyeline.
“Look at the mess you’ve made, Y/N,” Sylus hums, slipping his fingers out of you and lifting them so you can clearly see the way they’re dripping with something clear and wet. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
“It’s not m’fault,” your voice comes out annoyingly shaky, still recovering from the earth-shattering experience. You swat his hands away weakly, “Stop. S’embarrassing.”
Sylus chuckles, letting you push his hands back towards him. But he tenses suddenly, the thick muscles of his arms locking. The planes of his sharp jaw twinge, his entire body rigid, like he’d just been struck by lightning.
“Sylus?” you whisper, sitting up and cupping his cheek into your palm, “What’s wrong?”
Sylus’s eyes are locked onto his fingers, his nostrils twitching. You’re mortified when Sylus brings his fingers to his face, his movements almost trancelike.
“Don’t do that,” you protest, eyes wide, moving to grab his wrist. But Sylus dodges you easily, swiftly removing his arm from your grasp, the smell of you on his fingers intoxicating him to the point of madness. The sheer primal hunger in his blood-red eyes is so far away, you almost don’t recognize him.
You’re acutely aware that you’re currently no more than a little rabbit trapped in a lion’s den. If it weren’t for the way his tail still wrapped around your waist so tenderly, you’d think he was the same Fiend that nearly lost himself and killed you that day.
Sylus doesn’t speak, his chest heaving erratically as he brings his fingers up to his lips, tongue catching every rivulet of your slick. His pupils dilate, locked onto you, a storm of emotions brewing beneath the carmine pools, his primal instincts nearly taking control. One thing swims to the surface above them all.
Hunger.
In a fraction of a second, you find yourself pinned to the grassy floor again, your head thudding to the ground against Sylus’s protective hand. Your wrists are bound above your head, with one of your thighs held open by Sylus’s tail and the other with his knee. His lips are everywhere, first at your neck, then down your shoulder, lingering at your mark, then trailing down your collar, to your breasts.
“Mm–ngh! Sylus?” you can hardly speak as he lingers at the swell of your chest, “What are you doing?”
“I can taste you,” he hisses, reaching your naval. You can vaguely recall the conversation you’d had with him awhile back–that dragons couldn’t understand a song’s melody or see the beauty in patterns.
Taste the flavors in food.
“More,” is all he’s capable of biting out, before prying your thighs apart. Of course, Sylus had no idea what it meant for something to taste sweet, how the burgundy jewels of the pomegranates you loved so much tasted. But if he had to take a guess…
They’d be nothing compared to the honey he had found between your legs.
“But–I thought dragons c-couldn’t…ah–!” you trail incredulously, yelping as Sylus hooks one of his arms under your knees, sweeping you briefly off the ground so he can yank your skirt off in one swift motion.
You’re left in only your drenched undergarments, skirt thrown somewhere to the side as Sylus resumes his relentless journey into your inner thighs, leaving a trail of angry hickeys in his wake.
“We can’t,” Sylus pants into you, suckling on the soft plush of your thighs, eyeing the glistening folds of your cunt that peek through your sodden panties like his next prey. He’s so close that you can feel his hot breath against your core, and it only makes you wetter.
“But apparently I can taste this.”
The moan you let out is more beautiful than any melody you could ever sing for him, as his mouth closes over your clit, tongue wedging between your slicked lips.
“W-Wait Sylus, m’sensitive!” you protest, still coming down from the way he’d just made your body explode minutes earlier, your core quivering against the heavy demand of his lips. But as you sit up on your elbows and peer down at the silver-haired dragon between your legs, taking one look at Sylus, you know there is absolutely no getting through to him.
Sylus has his mouth latched onto you, like he’s trying to drink your essence right from the source. His nose is buried right beneath your clit, every slightest movement causing the strong ridges to brush against the taut bundle of nerves, making it difficult for you to think straight.
You try to sit up further, but Sylus’s large palm comes up to flatten against your stomach, forcing you back down. He looks up at you, eyes dark and eyebrows furrowed, practically glaring at you.
“Don’t deny me of this,” he growls pleadingly, the sheer need in his voice making your toes curl against the grass.
The strength of his hand has you flopping back down, your body already succumbing to Sylus, yet again. You want to curse your traitorous body as it grinds into his greedy mouth, your mind battling your body’s instinct to chase the feelings that only Sylus can seem to give you.
Why not just give in? That’s what Sylus had been teaching you, right?
Live freely and die without regrets.
You grab two fistfulls of Sylus’s soft silver hair, pulling him impossibly closer to the apex of your thighs, shivering as he moans into you. His thick arms wrap around your thighs, holding on greedily, claws digging in.
“I should punish you for keeping this from me,” Sylus pants, pulling away for a brief second, giving you a pointed smirk. He uses his thumb to wipe the sheen of your arousal from his bottom lip.
“You can’t always get what you want Sylus. Sometimes you have to work for it,” you quip breathlessly, reeling from the sudden lack of his warm and wet tongue.
Sylus chuckles, dark and rich. The dangerous glint in his ruby eyes is one that is all too familiar to you. Your skin crawls, pebbling with goosebumps, and before you can scamper away from him, his fingers come down with a resounding wet ‘smack’ against your unsuspecting cunt.
“Sy-Sylus!” you cry, halfway between a screech and a moan, your body convulsing into a painful arch as it reaches up to meet his palm. Sylus uses that moment to hook his other hand under your back, lifting your body up with one arm, and hoisting you into the air.
You flail as he swings you around, pulling at his hair until you grasp his horns. Sylus hisses, and you find yourself back on the soft grass matted floor. But this time you’re on your knees, straddling Sylus’s face.
“Sylu–ngh!” your eyes widen when his tongue licks at your slit, “P-Please! This is embari-ngh-sing!” It’s impossible to get your words out coherently when his tongue is moving so insistently, trying to drain every drop of your essence.
He digs his claws into the tops of your thighs, trying to pull you down, despite the way you fight to keep yourself propped up on your heels.
“Don’t resist,” he tuts, his voice muffled and rough, “Sit, love.”
”No!” you protest petulantly, sobbing in ecstasy as he sucks down hard on your clit, as if punishing you for your disobedience, “I’m heavy. Don’t wanna squash you.”
“Do you truly think so little of me?” he scoffs, positively offended, his breath warm against your core, “Sit. Now.”
You bite your lip in uncertainty as you stay hovering above him. Sylus remains patient, indulging himself instead by sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your inner thighs. You tremble, nearly doubling over as he suckles on your leg, biting a trail of flowery bruises leading up to your core.
You remain stubbornly, but shakingly, upright. Sylus sighs, losing his patience completely and yanking you down by your thighs, leaving you with no choice but to completely fall onto his waiting mouth.
Your eyes roll back, knees buckling entirely, when Sylus’s tongue enters you, stretching you out over his overeager lips. Your entire body nearly gives out, as you fall forward, your hands barely coming out in time to catch you before you collide with the meadow floor.
But when your palms are supposed to meet the grassy floor, Sylus catches them instead, your fingers intertwining desperately. The tips of his claws stroke your burning skin, terribly soothing compared to the way his tongue was ravishing you so filthily.
Your body reacts to him so readily, your hips starting to grind down almost instinctively, much to Sylus’s satisfaction. His cock twitches, heart nearly pounding through the veins that bulge along the sides, at the idea of you using him for yourself. He hums in pleasure, pressing a teasing kiss to your clit and whispering, “That’s it sweetheart, take what you want from me.”
His words make you squirm. Your hands card through Sylus’s soft silver locks, grabbing hold of his ebony horns for leverage. Sylus growls at your core, the vibrations of his low rumble making you writhe and grind harder onto his lips, your body being pushed toward another explosive release.
“Hah, c-can’t anymore!” you cry, gripping his horns tighter, riding his face for dear life. Sylus doesn’t speak, but his enthusiastic tongue wordlessly conveys his words for him.
You might not be able to, but you will.
Your thighs cling to him, hips rolling into him with wild abandon. Everything about him, his honeyed words, his expert tongue, his possessive fingers make your body desperate for more, to take everything it wants. You’re so lost in your own pleasure that you don’t notice the way Sylus is likewise losing his mind beneath you.
The way you grip his unbearably sensitive horns makes him jerk with need, the taste of your arousal a never ending drug on his tongue. Above all, the way you rode him, the way your body sought exactly what it desired, the way you surrendered to desire, to him, in this moment.
You truly were the other half of his soul.
“O-Oh go–od Sylus!” you moan brokenly, your voice hoarse from the incessant cries, bordering on screams, for him. Your thumbs dig into where his horns meet his scalp, your chest heaving violently as you try to stay upright on his tongue, coming undone across his eagerly waiting lips.
Sylus growls in relief, his enthusiasm bordering on obsession. His tongue laps up every honeyed drop, savoring a taste he knew he’d become all too addicted to. Luckily for him, he’d have you for the rest of eternity. And he fully intended on tasting you, devouring you, every day of his life.
As you start to climb off his face, Sylus grabs you before you can crawl onto the floor, away from him. He carries you as delicately as he would the blooming daturas that surround you, laying you before him, settling between your parted thighs.
“Sylus,” you murmur breathlessly, looking up at him. The waning sun peeks out behind his head, the sky a sunset sorbet that is beginning to melt into the indigo of approaching night. With the fading sun behind him, he is an utterly devastating sight for sore eyes.
You loop your arms around his neck, dragging him down to you. He grunts, letting himself be pulled down to you, a ghost of a smile on his kiss bitten lips.
“I want…” you murmur hoarsely, trailing off as you let your fingers fall, tracing the muscles of his chest, drifting further south until they are grazing the defined contours of his abdomen.
Sylus’s fingers grasp your chin, bringing your eyes back up, where you meet his fiery gaze. His thumb presses into your bottom lip, prying your mouth open gently.
“Go on, my dove,” he hums, his voice practically a purr as he presses the lethal tip of his claw onto your tongue, “Tell me what it is you want.”
You open your lips to speak but between your sore throat, parched from your incessant moans, and the foreign desire still growing in both your gut and your heart, you were far too ashamed to speak further. But with the way Sylus was staring at you, his right eye flickering dangerously, you knew he could see right into your soul.
Sylus’s lips turn up into an absolute shit-eating smirk, his beautiful deep garnet irises gleaming with a rich amusement.
“Can’t speak anymore?” he chuckles amusedly, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“That’s alright,” he murmurs, his voice taking on a snarl that’s simultaneously dangerously edged yet velveteen. The ends of his claws trace your pulse as his fingers venture down, making your breath hitch. You shiver, giddy at the idea that those very talons, that were capable of such destruction, were now caressing you with so much tender passion.
“All you’ll need to be able to say is Sylus, hm?”
You light absolutely ablaze at his filthy words, your stomach churning in anticipation at what you know is coming. What you want more than anything you’ve ever known.
His fingers, that’d found their way to the swell of your chest, shred the delicate straps of your corset with the slightest flick of his claws. You squeal as your naked body is exposed to the elements, writhing as the wind nips at your bare skin.
“Hey!” you protest hoarsely, sitting up, your arms darting to wrap around your chest, “Was that really necessary?!” But of course, Sylus is far quicker than you. He catches your wrists easily, holding them in his hands, leaving you beautifully exposed before his hungry eyes.
“No,” he smirks cheekily, face coming inches from yours, his breath fanning across your lips. You glare at him in annoyance, which only makes his grin widen.
“Now it’s my turn to take what I want,” he murmurs, pushing you flat against the grass. With your hands still restrained against his palm, he kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of claiming bruises along the way.
“Beautiful. The truest treasure,” he rasps between kisses. He lingers on the mark on your shoulder, not being able to help but to indulge himself there.
A stream of unabashed moans escape your lips as Sylus bites down, hard. So hard you think he might draw blood. His canines are so close to your pulse; your instincts scream at you to flee, but your soul forces you to stay.
Pain and pleasure, it was all the same. If Sylus was giving it, you wanted it.
This is the man fate had destined for you. Your dragon.
And you fully intended to show him that as well.
With his head at your shoulder, his own neck exposed to you, you couldn’t help but press your lips into his pulse. Sylus tenses in surprise, unwittingly sensitive, but he doesn’t pull away. In fact, his body bucks into yours, his pelvis pressing into you, as if desperately seeking something from you.
“You never learn do you, my little sparrow?” he bites out, his voice rough and raspy. Despite his words, he doesn’t pull away in the slightest. You smile into his neck and gently sink your teeth into his soft skin, desperate to mark him in the same way he’d marked you.
Sylus's breath grows erratic against you, his chest heaving unsteadily. His hands come up to hold you possessively against him, his powerful tail coils around your arched waist, like you might disappear at any second. Your fingers thread into his hair, hooking onto his horns again, as you continue to kiss into his neck.
But suddenly, Sylus is yanking himself away from you, his tail prying you off of him.
“Too much?” you mumble apologetically as you watch him straighten up, waiting for him to settle back down.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he props himself onto his knees, focussed and dangerous. Like a predator before the hunt.
“No. It’s not enough.”
With that, he’s undoing the buckle of his belt, his darkened eyes never leaving yours. You can’t help but bite your lip as you watch the bulging veins of his forearms, his hand reaching into his undone pants. Sylus looks devastatingly handsome as he undresses himself before you, eyeing you like his next meal.
You don’t get to see him pull himself out before Sylus is back on you, his lips fervently attacking yours. You don’t know what’s changed, because the Sylus that’s kissing you right now has completely thrown restraint to the wind, like he’s trying to claim every fiber of your being with this one kiss.
His body is so imposing atop yours that, even naked, you feel nothing but warm and safe in the evening breeze. He’s so close, you can feel his eyelashes on your cheek. But you can’t stop pulling him closer, moaning in satisfaction when he holds you bruisingly tighter.
Still, you want more of him.
Your hand inches down to grasp his manhood in your fingers, pulling away from the kiss with a choke. Being a dragon, you had no doubt that Sylus would be larger than what you’d been told was average from the other women at the Sanctuary. As soon as your fingers make contact, Sylus’s tail is roped around your wrist, the thick scales digging into your burning skin, his eyes filled with a volatile hunger.
He doesn’t pull you away. His tail wrapped around your wrist seems to be more of a silent warning.
If you continue, there’s no going back.
Sylus’s eyes follow you carefully, his right eye shining as he seems to read your every whim and wonder. Every doubt, every fear, every fantasy.
“You can take it, sweetheart,” he coos reassuringly, reading your mind like the back of his hand, thumb catching a stray tear you hadn’t even known had fallen, “I’ve more than prepared you.”
You eye him skeptically, taking a deep breath, peering down at where your bodies are firmly pressed together. Your breath hitches at how pathetically small your hand looks wrapped around him, his erection as beautiful as it was terrifying.
How many fingers had you been able to take earlier? Two?
You were fucked. Literally.
“Y/N,” Sylus calls, his voice taking on a tender warmth that you rarely heard from him, clearly able to read your nervousness.
He grips your chip and tilts your face back up to meet his eyes. Hoisting you up by your waist, he sets you on his lap so that you’re straddling him, wrapping your legs around his hips. His cock stands proudly, arousal smearing all over your bare navel, brushing against your clit as he presses you so deeply into his body that it rests between your leaking folds. Fitting like a puzzle piece.
“I have waited over a millennium for this. For you. I can wait a millennium more, until you’re ready.”
Your body immediately reacts to his profoundly heartfelt words, your chest constricting and your core fluttering. It’s not hard to decide what you want, right then and there.
“I trust you, Sylus,” you say firmly, voice still raspy and hoarse, “I want you. Please.”
Sylus curses under his breath. One forearm wraps around your ass, lifting you and his other hand angling himself so that his thick leaking head is nudging right at your entrance, begging to be inside you. You writhe at the friction, your hips rocking onto him on instinct.
The silver haired man growls, arms tightening around you like a vice, “You drive me insane, Y/N,” he rasps into your ear, his breath hot and heavy.
At long last, he presses himself into you. Crying out, your nails dig into his shoulders, sure to break skin. The discomfort was immeasurable, your body wildly confused by the intense pain but the strange feeling of intimacy.
“I don’t think I can–I can’t!” your hips locking, eyes welling with tears. The stretch was beyond anything you could have ever fathomed, and you were almost sure he would break you.
“You can, you can,” he soothes, almost desperately, like he was terrified you might ask him to stop. Every muscle in his body was locked and tense as he fought the urge to ram right into you, ravaging you like every instinct was telling him to do.
With even just the tip barely inside, he knew this was far too dangerous. The feeling of you wrapped around him was far too addicting, one of few things that threatened to make him lose all humanity to the untamed dragon blood flowing through his veins.
You always were his one weakness.
The urgency, the desperation, in his voice makes your tummy flutter, your body tightening in response to him.
Sylus hisses, his tail constricting around your waist, claws digging into the fat of your hips, “Don’t tighten up. Not if you want me to be gentle.”
“Am I?” you moan as he shifts, sinking slightly more into you, “M’sorry Sy. D-didn't mean to.”
A low rumble ripples from his chest as he does his best not to slam you down the rest of the way down onto the hilt of his cock. Which was nearly impossible because every time he moved at all, he swore your pussy was trying to choke him out.
“Is it all the way in yet?” you whisper, fighting to keep your voice level. You had never felt more full in your life, your gut on the verge of splitting. The pain and since dulled into a somewhat bearable ache, but it was by no means comfortable.
“Half way, love,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
Your eyes widen in shock, “W-What?!” You look down between your bodies, and sure enough, Sylus was still hoisting you halfway above his impossibly massive member. There’s a faint smear of red across the sheen of your combined arousals. Your blood.
Before you can speak further, Sylus presses his lips to yours, stealing your breath as his own. He swallows your moans, his tongue and cock simultaneously sinking further into you.
A string of saliva connects your lips when he pulls away, his fingers tenderly holding your chin, his darkened scarlet eyes piercing into yours. His right eye glimmers with a dangerous edge.
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart,” he rasps, still hanging onto his last thread of his control, “You can take it all, can’t you? Perfect little mate.”
Your chest and core simultaneously flutters at his words and you’re fueled with a newfound confidence and an overwhelming wave of lust. It really seemed that Sylus knew exactly what to say to you to have you wanting more.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you roll your hips, trying to inch your own way down him, practically able to feel his pulsing veins throbbing against your gummy walls. The pain from the stretch was still there, but Sylus had prepped you so thoroughly that it was beginning to be difficult to feel anything but good.
“I can take more Sylus,” you murmur into his ear, pressing a wet kiss into his throbbing pulse, “I want more.”
An animalistic snarl rips out from deep within Sylus’s chest. His fingers squeeze literally bruises into your hips as he whispers back into your ear, breath hot and heavy.
“Yeah? That’s my girl,” he rasps, trying to contain his hunger, before lowering you the rest of the onto his cock, seating you entirely on his lap.
He gives you a second to adjust, licking the tears that had started to stream down your cheek. It quickly feels unnatural, and you’re desperate for some friction, the pressure of him at your cervix too intense.
“Ngh–Sy-Sylus,” you moan, “Please, move–do something.”
Sylus twitches inside you, your words fueling him with the desire to breed you full of him, “You’re playing with fire, my little dragon.”
He wraps his thick arms around your body and begins to bounce you up and down on his lap, trying to keep a slow and gentle rhythm, doing his best to ensure you’d be in as little pain as possible.
Of course it didn’t matter, with his sheer size alone, pain was inevitable.
But so was pleasure.
Your body had begun reacting to Sylus all on its own, your hips rolling into Sylus’s sculpted abdomen, trying to pull him deeper into your saccharine heat.
“Ngh–haah…Sy-Sylus!” you splutter, fingers clawing deep red welts into the ropes of muscles on his back, “Feels…”
His tail tightens around your waist, the tip stroking along your thigh, almost affectionately. His pace grows increasingly more vigorous, more excited, as he watches your face contort in different phases of pain and pleasure, “You feel incredible.”
His words, the feral rasp in his voice, so animalistically raw and primal, makes your entire body clench with excitement. And Sylus can feel all of it, every quiver, every twitch.
“You’re so damn tight,” he bites out, rutting up into you, “Trying to break me?”
“You’re–ngh–s’dramatic,” you tease, weaving your fingers through his hair and stroking his horns.
Sylus’s tail grips you, his body tensing as you gently provoke the sensitive ebony spurs. You can swear his rhythm falters, but he composes himself instantly. The rough scales lining his muscular tail sink into your skin, leaving beautiful little crescents behind.
“Am I now?” Sylus smirks, his tone warning you that you’ve used up all his mercy. Your cries amplify as Sylus’s intensity picks up, his pelvis slamming into your cheeks. You’re so caught up in the borderline violent thrusts that you don’t notice when Sylus’s head dips down, his lips latching onto your breast.
“Oh Gods,” your voice is hoarse and broken with desire, nearly drowned out by the wet slaps of his body pounding into yours. On the other hand, Sylus’s mouth is deceptively tender, suckling so gently, teeth grazing so intentionally. His coarse fingers pinch the nipple that he can’t attend to with his tongue, all the while still driving himself deep into your gut.
His free hand comes down between your bodies, the slick that had smeared there coating his fingers as he finds your clit, sending your eyes into the back of your head. The valley echoes with a broken record of your combined cries of pleasure and the lewd sound of wet skin colliding.
“Does every inch of you taste this damn exquisite?” Sylus demands breathlessly when he pulls away from your breasts. The way you felt wrapped around him was making it difficult to control his instincts, needing to remind himself that he needed to be careful with you.
“Hah…only t’you–! Only for you,” you can barely register the words coming out as your ears pound, your vision starting to blur as the same tension you’d felt twice earlier starts to build in again.
A possessive growl erupts from Sylus’s chest, unable to contain his instincts. But the corners of his lips quirk, a pleased smile gracing his features.
“Only for me, hm?” he licks a stripe from your neck to the mark on your shoulder making your entire body shudder.
Sylus’s talons dig into your thighs, now using both the strength of his thighs and arms to fuck you relentlessly onto him. Your back arches backward at the sheer force of his body and you use your palms to catch yourself on the ground behind you. Sylus’s tail steadies you, but at this angle he reaches a new depth inside of you, his impossibly thick cockhead roughly caressing a sensitive spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
“O-Oh Gods, oh Go-ods! Sylus–!” you chant like a broken prayer, your lower half rolling into Sylus’s lap impulsively, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You use your hands that are planted on the ground behind you to give you leverage, just letting your body do whatever feels right, feels natural.
With every roll of your hips, your clit brushes against the silvery mat of wet hair painting Sylus’s pelvis, making your eyes gloss over with a fucked out bliss that has Sylus nearly coming undone himself.
His eyebrows furrow, red eyes swirling with shadows as he watches you atop his cock, his mate. The distinct outline of him strains against your delicate skin every time he thrusts into you, bulging against your naval.
Did you have any idea how insane you were driving him right now?
He hooks his hand behind your waist, just one palm enough to cup the small of your back and pull you back to him. He pulls you flush to his body, your bare chest pressed against his, your hearts pounding against one another.
“I’m a selfish man, Y/N,” he rasps into your ear, fighting to not explode into your gummy walls.
“S’okay,” you cup his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his in a chaste kiss, “I love that about you. I love you.”
Sylus’s tail tenses, still wrapped possessively around you, your proclamation making him snap. Before you know what’s happening, you find yourself being thrown back onto the grassy floor, Sylus’s hands cupping the back of your head as he sets you on the ground. Somehow, he still finds a way to keep himself snug inside you, unwilling to pull away for even a split second.
“Sylus!” you cry out, half in surprise, half in excitement, as his heavy body presses down onto you, his lips less than an inch from yours, cock nearly in your throat.
“Sweetheart,” he groans, voice coming out unusually…frenzied.
He truly was a selfish man, in every sense of the word.
“You can take another for me, right?”
“Another?” you squeak when he licks your cheek playfully, tenderly.
“I’m pretty sure I can…cum–” you flush at the word, still slightly reserved with your newfound sexuality, “–again.”
Sylus chuckles huskily, pressing a soft kiss into your lips, “That’s not what I meant.”
Though he keeps his voice level, he couldn’t keep his heart from hammering erratically in his chest. You felt so indescribably perfect wrapped around him, he couldn't even fathom that it could get better than this.
You were everything he imagined, and then some.
You groan when he shifts to his knees, repositioning himself. Sylus moves his hand to grab the base of his length, and you’re about to protest, not wanting him to pull himself out of you.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, you feel the odd sensation of something else poking at where he had already had you completely full with his ridiculously thick cock. Something that was grinding against your clit, like he would with his thumb, toying with you as if also trying to get inside you. Something equally, if not more, massive than what was already nestled inside of you.
There was no way he thought he could possibly fit more inside you.
With your eyes wide, you shakily, address the silver haired man hovering above you, “H-How did I not see that you have t-two?!”
Sylus throws his head back with a breathless laugh, his entire body shaking. He strokes your cheek with the tip of his ebony claws, staring wryly at you with his sparkling crimson eyes.
“The same way I can hide my wings.”
He strokes the leaking tip of his second cock along your clit, making you shiver. You can’t deny how good it feels, and how exhilarating the thought of it is. The way he looks at you, desperate, feral, and with all the intensity a hunter would stare at its prey.
It makes it impossible for you to think coherently, the lust overpowering all sensibility.
“You can take it,” he coos encouragingly, using his second tip to smear your combined slick around your taut opening, as if preparing you to take him.
“You could–ngh– barely get one in, what makes you think I’ll be able to take two–!?” you writhe, forcing the words out as Sylus continues to slowly rock into you.
Your squirming only makes you tighten further on Sylus, working him up further. His second cock had hardened to the point of pain, no matter how firmly he stroked it. It needed you, and nothing else could satisfy him.
The desire on Sylus’s face, on his body, is palpable. You can see the beads of sweat gliding down his sculpted face as he restrains himself, his chest heaving as he tries to lock his instincts away, a dark storm of frustration in his eyes.
“Oo-kay, I’ll try,” you murmur, hoping to the Gods you’ll live to see another day. Sylus’s carmine eyes light up, a proud grin donning his devilishly handsome features.
“Good girl.”
He forcefully pounds against you, still only letting his second cock grind against your clit. Every thrust causes it to glide against you, rubbing against the sensitive bud, like he was fucking the lips of your cunt with it.
Your fingers claw at the ground as the anticipation boils, waiting for him to just put it in.
“Sy–ngah–just do it alr–”
He presses his thumb into your lips, interrupting the beginnings of your frantic rambles.
“Breathe out.”
Just as Sylus’s hips are about to snap against your cheeks again, you feel him finally push himself into you.
Your eyes go wide, mouth agape, as he stretches you until you fear you may actually pass out. You’re so wet that it doesn’t take much to coax it through the initial stretch. But it still hurts, far worse than when he’d initially penetrated you.
However there is also far more pleasure than before. The two sensations tug at one another, making your mind reel with tumultuous chaos. A tormenting mixture of ecstasy and torment, threatening to shatter your mind.
“S-Sylus, I-I can’t, s’not gonna fit,” you whimper when the stretch becomes too much. Peering down, you see that you’d taken the entire head of his second cock, and you don’t think you can take any more.
Sylus groans, his eyes squeezed shut, a storm brewing within him. The feeling of your perfect cunt wrapped around both of his cocks was unlike anything he could have ever imagined, and he was at war with the feral part of himself that was threatening to break free and take you like he was in rut.
“It will fit, my love,” he soothes tenderly, his fingers rubbing soft circles into your hips.
He bends down, taking your chin in his fingers to pull you in for a kiss. But before your lips meet, he whispers heatedly, eyes overcast with a swirl of inexplicable emotions.
“You were made for me, Y/N. Of course it’ll fit.”
His eyes flicker to your lips, before coming back to your eyes, silently asking for your okay before proceeding. As much as he wanted this, more than anything he wanted you to want it too.
Your heart swells, core fluttering at his words. Sylus hisses when he feels your walls clenching against him, inadvertently sinking further into you.
Gasping, you pull him the rest of the way towards you, circling your arms around his neck, and pushing your lips onto his. You take that moment to arch into him, letting him push deeper into you, biting down on his lip as he sinks further to the hilt.
Sylus kisses you so fiercely that you don’t even notice that he’s fully inside you, both cockheads pressed as deep as they will possibly go. Just as he claims every inch of you with his tongue, his arousal coats every part of you, marking you from the inside.
He pulls away with a snarl, his entire chest shuddering, a visible sheen of sweat glistening on his muscled body, “Sweetheart, I need to move.”
You nod, eyelashes fluttering as you fight to keep your eyes open, “Mmngh–you can move, Sy. I-I want you to.”
Sylus’s eyes darken, his palm slamming down on the ground beside your head. He’s completely hovering over you now, his lower body pressed so deliciously into you. Like he owned you.
Laid out against the tapestry of blooming datura, you made his heart stutter, his right eye twinging with inexplicable desire. You were more magnificent than any work of art. After 1,600 years walking these lands, Sylus finally knew what beauty was.
“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, slowly pulling out of you before rolling his hips back into you. He’s so deep, stretching you so full, body so heavy on top of yours. You can’t feel anything but him, and it makes you want to come undone all over him again. That sensation in your gut, that you had become all too familiar with, had already built to a near bursting breaking point.
“Soo deep–angh–s’fuuull,” you slur, graspingf his horns again, stroking them affectionately, letting the rough ebony edges ground you.
“Fuck,” Sylus curses sharply as you grope his sensitive horns, barely able to contain his own moans. His knees nearly buckle, using only his arms to keep him propped up over you. Squeezing his eyes shut, he takes a deep breath, forcing himself to regain his composure.
His hips roll into you like the tides of the ocean, his pace smooth and rhythmic. There’s a filthy wet ‘smack!’ every time his pelvis hammers into you, the ecstasy your bodies create together makes you leak uncontrollably, even so tightly plugged up by both his lengths.
“Feel me right here, love?” he grounds out, using one hand to press down firmly on the soft plush of your stomach. You squeal when you feel him pushing down on you, forcing your sensitive spots to clamp down on him. With two of his cocks inside you, there’s absolutely no space for that, the pleasure it brings you sharp and overwhelming.
“Yes-yes—! Please!” you plead, hoping he’ll have mercy on you. He’s driving you closer and closer to another orgasm, and you don’t know if you’ll survive this one.
Sylus can feel it too, the way your saccharine walls begin to squeeze him so sweetly, your beautiful starry eyes hazing over—too fucked out to focus, your clit hardened to a pebble against the slicked mat of silvery hair dusting his pelvis.
With you like this under him, mercy is not something he’s interested in.
In fact, Sylus had never felt like more of a beast than he did now. And the only thing he had an appetite for was you. The only thing that could sate his hunger was feeling you come undone so exquisitely for him again.
He plants one foot on the ground to give him more leverage, letting him thrust down into you more powerfully. Your thighs were spread so widely to accommodate him, your feet swinging wildly as he rolled his pelvis so deliciously into you, his entire body cascading like tidal waves.
“S-Sylus–ngah!” your relentless moans for him would be embarrassing if you weren’t so deep in the hole of lust, “Soo full–ngh–feel s’full–!”
“I know, love,” he purrs, “You’re so beautiful, with me inside you.” He softly strokes the bulge in your tummy, sending shivers down your arched spine, the sensation so otherworldly.
He delicately, but firmly, grabs the back of your neck, his fingers long enough to enclose over your entire throat. Gently, he pulls you forward, forcing you to look down at where he’s palming your stomach.
“Taking me so damn well,” he growls, his fingers threading into your hair now, gripping with just enough tension to make you tremble with excitement. Your forehead knocks against his, his damp bangs fluttering against your eyes. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, nails clawing into the thick ropes of muscles there.
“Mngh–Syluus, I can’t take much more. M’close again–!”
His hand forces you to watch where he was literally rearranging your insides and has you teetering off the cliff of climax, hanging on for dear life. Sylus’s pace only quickens, his hips pounding into you with reckless abandon now, unable to stop himself, any previous gentleness long gone.
As a Fiend who’d spent his entire life plundering the world of its treasures and riches, he’d come to know insatiable greed. Dragons inherently took and took, feeding off the gluttony of the human soul, unable to quench their own need to acquire.
He’d spent a millennium acquiring the most exquisite jewels, extravagant weapons, rarest heirlooms–what he wanted, he took. And yet, every waking day was the hollow echo of a broken harmonium.
But now, with your angelic little cunt wrapped so perfectly around both his cocks. Your nightingale voice that so often innocently serenaded him, moaning his name like a prayer, greedily begging for more. Your fluttering, doe eyes, glimmering back at him with an entire universe of emotions–desire, anticipation, greed, love.
Sylus realized he’d never known true desire. Not until he’d met you. Nothing he’d ever experienced compared to what it felt like now, to want you–to need you.
And he’d desire nothing, now and forevermore, if he had you.
Sylus’s fiery breath fans across your lips, his hand holding the back of your head demandingly, voice raspy with an unyielding desire, “I can feel it, sweetheart.”
“Don’t make me beg, hm?”
His heat fueled words, all but a demand, make you shake to your core. Your body’s perfect reactions to him only make Sylus more vigorous with need, growing impossibly harder inside you. One leaking tip brushes relentlessly against your g-spot, the other bullying into your cervix, damn near trying to find its way into your chest.
“Sy-Sy–ngh–m’cumming–! Please–!” your neck is hinged back in an ear splitting cry, your hips arched so deeply into Sylus that your spine feels like it might snap.
“Sh-shit–just like that,” Sylus grits, groaning as your cunt tries to wring him dry, “Just like that, sweet girl. Cum for me.”
Your body convulses, goosebumps littering your skin, as Sylus continues to fuck you through your orgasm, your vision blurring and tears seeping out from the corners of your eyes.You don’t know if it’s because you’ve cum three times already, or because he has you absolutely speared on both his massive erections, or maybe because he looks down at you with all the adoration you think one could hold for even the stars. But this orgasm is far more explosive than the previous ones, and it makes you scream into the night.
You release fiercely against Sylus’s body, the wet gush of release simultaneously erotic and strange. The muscles of your thighs trembled viciously. Your cries of complete and utter pleasure are strangled, your voice nearly gone now. Sylus is cooing sweetly into your ear, but you can't hear him through the blood pounding in your head, your eyes having a hard time staying focussed.
You don’t even notice when Sylus shifts, now on his knees, his fingers grasping the plush of your hips. Your back now rests against the matted meadow floor, your vision filled with the sky that was slowly filling with stars.
But your sight is incredibly shaky, Sylus’s grip on your hips bruising as he pulls your body into his relentlessly, still chasing his own release.
Your senses slowly start to come back to you, the feeling of his cocks still rutting deeply into you sobering you up. The feeling was strange; it was by no means painful, but it was sharp and made you wince.
“Ungh, Sy–s-sensitive,” you whisper, your throat scratchy. Though his thrusts are rough, possessive, he’s somehow still careful with your body, making sure you’re not a complete ragdoll against his demanding pull. You crane your neck slightly and see that, during your momentary orgasmic state of incohesion, Sylus had placed his pants under your head, and what was left of your clothing under your naked back.
The simple gesture makes your heart skip with inexplicable happiness as you gaze up at him, admittedly growing aroused again, watching him.
His sweat matted silver bangs had been tousled back, as if he had run his fingers through them. Thick eyebrows, arched downward, darkening his already smoldering irises, watching you like you were the reason the sun rose every day. His entire body was layered in a thin sheen of sweat that made him appear as if he was chiseled from marble, like the sculptures you’d see in the Ivory City.
“You know, dragons like to mate in the sky,” Sylus groans, a near ramble, delirious with desire, clearly near his own release. His tail flickers wildly behind him, and you use your calf to rub against it. He tenses with a strangled moan, snapping his hips particularly harshly into you. Your eyes roll back as he bruises against your cervix, your sensitivity at an all time high.
“Sylus!”
“One day, hm? Right now, there’s nothing I want more than to see you spread out amongst these flowers.”
Another series of desperate ruts that have you writhing at the intensity.
“We have all the time in the world.”
His honeyed vows have you keening, your body reacting viscerally. Sylus reels when you clamp down on him, doubling over with a strangled groan.
“Not gonna last much longer if you keep doing that,” he pants into the crook of your neck, chest heaving. You loosely wrap your weak arms around his neck, nipping at his earlobe, enjoying the way he flinches.
“Please,” you beg, knowing how much he loves your greed, “I want you to, Sylus.”
A rumbling growl emits from Sylus’s chest, still pressed against yours. Your brain is far too exhausted to register how quickly he moves, maneuvering your thighs until they’re pressed against your breasts.
“Yeah?” Sylus snarls, his entire body caging you in, thighs closed over yours. You swear you can hear your muscles groan in protest, not meant to be this flexible. He’s practically sitting on you, except he keeps most of his weight off of you. From this angle he reaches the deepest he’s been able to, locking you in a mating press that he’s determined to breed you full in.
“You want me to cum in you, sweetheart?” he rasps, completely feral–too far gone. He’s ramming down into you now, using the strength of his thighs and gravity to knock the air out of your lungs, cocks reaching deep down your throat.
“Too-nghn–too deep!” You don’t know how it’s possible but you feel the coil in your core building again, and you’re certain you won’t survive it this time. It’s too fast, too sensitive, too taut.
Sylus groans, the sound of his pleasure making your mind spin. His rhythm stutters, and you swear you can feel him pulsing inside you, literal vibrations rocking your core. You’d like to think he was as close as you were, again.
“Needs t’be deep, love. If you’re going to give me an heir, hm?”
Your eyes widen at his words, heart skipping a beat. Sylus falters again, feeling you tighten at his words, before smirking crookedly at you.
“So damn tight. Does my sweet girl like that idea?” he croons, almost condescendingly, but threateningly serious.
Your vision is blurred with euphoric tears, but you can clearly see Sylus’s enchanting eyes looking down at you as they had many times before. They were always intense, the carmine hues able to peer right into your soul. But the heat in them now, as he watched you writhing in ecstasy under him, would put a wildfire to shame.
You look up at him through your dewy eyelashes, grasping his shoulders, and nod wordlessly, unbelievably aroused by his lewd words of passion.
Storm clouds swirled in his scarlet eyes and he leaned down impossibly closer to you, pressing your bodies tighter together, forcing himself deeper.
“You’re going to take my knot like a good little mate, hm?”
You weren’t entirely sure what that was, but the way Sylus said it just dripped with a possessive sensuality that made you want to submit to his every will. Your stomach flutters at the thought of it, and so you nod eagerly.
“Ungh–anything, Sy–! Anything for you.”
Sylus snarls, nearly baring his teeth, unable to contain the sheer primal joy he felt from your sinful words. He was already having a hard time keeping his instincts at bay with how you felt wrapped around him, underneath him, but now you were on the verge of making him snap entirely.
Did you have any idea what you were doing to him?
“The world needs more dragons, don’t you think?” he snarls, his hand pressing down roughly on your stomach where his two cocks threaten to erupt inside you. The implications of his hand cupping your stomach send you over the edge once more.
Gods, you’d be so beautiful carrying his brood.
“C-Cumming Sylus!” you whine, voice pathetically broken, body spent beyond belief. Your nails drag through his shoulders, piercing his skin and spilling blood, as every nerve in your body lights ablaze under his touch.
Sylus sinks his teeth into the sensitive spot on your shoulder, needing to claim you as he pushed himself to the edge. Your cunt convulses viciously against him as you cum, the feeling of your perfect heat milking both his cocks pushing him to cum with you.
“F-Fuck, Y/N–!”
Sylus explodes in you with a strangled groan of your name, his release thick, plenty, and scalding. It sends a claiming heat from your core all the way to your fingertips, making you shiver as you shudder with the waves of your climax, crying repeatedly for him.
You feel like you might burst, your stomach swollen with not only his cocks nestled in you but the sheer amount of cum he was still spurting in you. If you weren’t so blissfully fucked out, it might’ve been a bizarre sight, your tummy bulging with the weight of his unending seed painting your walls cream.
“Mine,” he groans into your neck, sinking himself back into your mark, still rocking into you, still spurting white into you. There’s far too much, leaking out of where he was still connected to you, rutting into you.
It quickly becomes too much; you’re not sure if you’d become too raw or if you’d simply had enough, but a strange pressure begins to build. And soon that pressure becomes a stinging, painful stretch.
“Sy-lus,” you whisper, tapping at his chest frantically, “W-Wait please. Something hurts.”
Sylus affectionately licks at the mark he’d branded you with, releasing your legs from the mating press he’d held you in. You whimper in relief when the tension in your hips finally releases. Sylus gently wraps your legs around his waist, but the growing pain between your thighs doesn’t subside.
“It’s my knot, love,” he growls, his voice gruff and gravely. His entire body trembles at the sensation of his knot swelling–filling you, the idea of his seed being stuffed deep inside you making it difficult for him to calm his raging instincts.
His hand palms where your thighs meet the plush of your rear, kneading into your ass and gripping you closer to him. You instinctually squirm away, the stretch becoming unbearable. But you quickly realize that you physically can’t. You’re literally locked onto him.
Sylus hisses, holding you in place, desperately trying to get you to stop moving.
“Please, sweetheart.”
From the sweat dripping down his brow, his jaw clenched so sharply it could cut stone, you realized his knot must’ve been incredibly sensitive. If you weren’t the one getting stretched out onto it, you might’ve even teased him.
“Just so big, t-too much,” you squeak as he swells further inside of you, not sure how much more you could take. You look down at where his abdomen is pressed into you, the area a pearly mess of your coalesced spend.
You could vaguely see that Sylus had in fact slipped one of his erections out of you, occluded by the sight of the other still engorged and locked inside you. You briefly wonder if the other one is also swelling with a knot. Had he pulled it out for your sake?
“How–nghah–how much more?” you pant, trying your best not to clench down.
“Almost. You’re taking me so well, Y/N,” Sylus murmurs, deceptively sweet, when all he wanted to do was ram his second knot into you. The battle between his innate draconic instincts, wanting to claim you full force like a beast, and the dual need to protect and cherish you, the last bit of his soul that was untainted.
You squeeze your eyes shut and nod, burying your face into his neck. His scent invades your senses, and you can’t help but moan, lips latching onto his racing pulse. Sylus groans, fingers grasping the back of your head and pressing you deeper into his chest. His tail wraps around your waist again, needing to be closer to you, deeper in you.
“Look at you,” he groans breathily into your ear, the swelling finally seeming to finish, “Taking my entire knot, hm?”
With his entire knot wrapped in your perfect heavenly cunt, Sylus can’t help but start rocking into you again. He’d cum so thickly inside you that his knot actually begins to thrust ever so slightly, the friction sending his eyes reeling backward.
Your eyes blow open, wincing at the feeling of prickling overstimulation. But when you see him, you find yourself not wanting to tell him to stop.
Sylus’s pearly white canines have dug into his kiss bitten lips, a rosy blush dusting his sharp cheeks. The emerging moonlight makes his argent hair even more ethereal, mussed back in an adorably messy way. His breath is heavy–desperate, face contorted in pure euphoria as he slowly thrusts into you again.
When you look up at him, you catch him watching you, his eyes overcast by the furrow of his thick eyebrows.
Reflected in the sea of searing vermillion, the adoration and worship burning brighter than the moon that illuminates a halo behind him, you see your soul reflected back at you. A soul that had been burned black, a puppet without a heart, consumed by revenge and contempt.
Until a fiendish dragon had plucked her out of the Abyss, and breathed fire back into that very hollow vessel of hatred, illuminating her spirit golden with greed.
That very greed not only saved your life, but showed you what it meant to be alive.
You let him slowly fuck his knot into you, whimpering as he stretched you to the point of breaking. Oddly enough, you didn’t hate the feeling, even though it stung. In fact, your body seemed to crave it, crave his body claiming yours.
“You feel so fucking incredible,” Sylus growls, his movements growing more and more insistent with every passing moment. From his gravelly voice you can tell he’s quickly losing control. Your eyes flutter upward, becoming overwhelmed, your poor body unable to take any more.
“Syluus, no more,” you grip his forearm, voice weak. Sylus stills when he hears the genuine pain in your voice. His lips are instantly at your temple, pressing kisses into your damp skin.
“Apologies, my love. I got carried away.”
Sylus shifts, cradling you so that you’re now on top of him, his strong arms holding you protectively. His knot, still swollen, rests tightly inside you, plugging you full of his thick seed. You listen to the thrum of his heartbeat, the two of you laying there in a serene silence that nearly lulls you into sleep.
“You are my fate,” he murmurs imperceptibly, pressing a soft kiss into the claim on your shoulder. His tail has found itself wrapped around your body again, the thick and cold scales digging pleasantly into your burning skin.
“Hm?” you mumble, sleep creeping in on your consciousness like a thick misty fog.
Sylus’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle, his fingers carding through your hair. He can feel his knot slowly beginning to subside, though his body still rides high from the passion.
“Nothing. Sleep, my little dragon.”
–
“Sing for me.”
Sylus’s wings are cocooned protectively around your naked body, seeing as he had absolutely shredded your clothes earlier. The two of you sat against the trunk of a large willow, with Sylus’s back pressed against it, and your back pressed against his chest, his thighs caged around yours. His tail rests on the ground, coiled around your feet, flickering every so often.
You’d awakened to a moonlit tapestry of stars and had stayed to admire them in the serenity of the valley, instead of heading back to the chapel.
You crane your neck to look back at him, “What, no please?”
Sylus arches an eyebrow at you, “Were you always this cheeky?”
You can’t help but let out an amused snort, “Were you always this demanding?”
Sylus grimaces, bordering dangerously close to a pout, “Will you sing for me?”
“My throat is sore,” you whine. It was wholeheartedly the truth; your voice was raw from your prior vigorous…activities. But the adorable sulk on his face has your resolve slipping away.
“Just a little,” he murmurs, his bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. You don’t even think he realizes he’s pouting.
You turn your eyes back to the night sky with a giggle. He always demanded you to sing for him, especially when you’d watch the moon together. It was almost a ritual for the two of you. And you rarely denied him.
♪ “This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow,” ♫
Sylus’s wings tense around you as you start singing, his chin resting on the top of your head. The gentle lilt of your voice sent a shiver down his spine, as he tried to recognize the lyrics. But he realized you hadn’t ever sung this one for him before.
♫ “If it weren't for you, I'd be here all alone,” ♪
You keep your voice low and steady as you sing the melody, staring up at the moon in the cloudless sky. It shines even brighter than it had that night in the chapel.
♪ “I know in my heart this is where we belong.” ♫
The next lines get caught in your throat when a droplet of water splashes on the crown of your head.
Odd. There hadn’t been any clouds in the sky.
You tilt your head all the way back, trying to get a better look at the sky, “It’s starting to rain.”
Sylus’s upside down face blocks your view, looming over you. He gently grasps your chin and brings your lips up to his, capturing you in a slow and tender kiss.
A few more raindrops fall onto your cheek, making you shiver. The valley rain is strangely warm.
When he releases your lips, Sylus wraps his arm around your chest, holding you to him. His heart pounds so heavily you can feel it thrumming against your naked back.
“Oh! I think the rain stopped Sylus!” you gasp, holding out your palms and extending your arms beyond the shade of the willow to try and catch some falling rainfall.
Sylus’s chest vibrates with laughter. He presses his lips into your hair, taking a deep inhale of your scent. Your pheromones nearly have him throwing you under him again, blood rushing south.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your head, shifting so his erections aren’t pressing into your spine.
Turning to look at him, you giggle in surprise. The silver-haired dragon was not typically a man of many ‘thank yous.’
“For what? Singing?
Sylus doesn’t answer immediately, staring up at the silky glow of the full moon. His normally shadowed irises glisten unusually bright under the radiance of the stars.
He’d always wanted someone to watch the moon with.
Sylus looks at you. The corners of his lips are curved in a barely-there smile, but his crimson eyes behold you such devotion that your breath catches. Deep inside the recesses of your consciousness, you can feel your soul tremble, as if being caressed by the claws of another.
“Yeah. For singing.”
–
A drop of water splashes against your cheek, shaking you out of your reverie.
You frantically wipe the tears from your cheeks away with your fingers, but the water only continues to fall.
Looking up, you realize the sunset had faded into night. In your reminiscing, clouds had overtaken the sky, crystalline raindrops starting to cascade from the heavens.
It’s…raining.
It hadn’t rained for decades in Tarus City, not since that day atop the Highest Court of Justitia.
Not until now.
♪ This world is a wasteland. ♫
You reach your hand out to catch some of the falling water in your palm, enjoying the sensation of the droplets splashing against your tepid skin.
A fleck of ebony ash drifts into your palm, the lingering orange ember fading away like a melting sunset when it meets your wet skin, tragically beautiful.
Like a body fading into crystals of midnight, getting swept up into the clouds.
♫ Don't let me go, go, go, go, go, go, go. ♪
The raindrops mix with your tears. You’re not sure how much time passes with you standing there in the rain, a mess of silent sobs. Seconds, minutes, hours, you’re not sure how long. Time seems to lose meaning as you stand there, your emotions coming out in an endless stream of tears. Eventually your eyes dry, your body dehydrated with nothing left to shed.
But the rain doesn’t show any signs of relenting.
When your bloodshot vision focusses just enough for you to regain your sight, you watch as the rainwater seems to melt away the thick layers of soot that had caked the meadow floor for decades.
The rain was pouring down like silver threads now, gathering into the streams in the depths of the meadow. The way the water trickled down the spine of the empty riverbanks almost made it seem like the valley was alive again.
You look up at the sky. Darkness had come quick, especially with the amount of rain clouds that had surfaced. There weren’t many stars visible, the twinkling lights hidden by the smog and the clouds.
But as you watch the billowing storm clouds, the wind picks up, parting the column of clouds into two, allowing the glow of the moon to illuminate through.
Your breath catches as you behold the sight of the moon. It was a full moon tonight, a halo of argent brilliance.
The same moon you’d watched together here, on that night.
You couldn't recall the last time you'd allowed yourself to gaze at the moon like this. It felt wrong–to watch the night sky without Sylus. Or maybe you were just too much of a coward.
Wherever he was, was there a moon for him to gaze up at too?
Standing here in the valley, under the bask of the moonlight, you feel closer to him than you had in a long time. There’s so much you wanted to say to him, to apologize for–to explain. But you struggle to find the words, your voice caught in your throat, drowning in unrelenting rain and inexplicable emotions.
Your heart drops when the light wanes, the moon getting swallowed up by the unending storm clouds, the moment passing as quickly as it had come.
Some words are like the moonlight hidden by the clouds. Once the moment passes, there’s no need to say them anymore.
The rainfall drizzles to a stop, leaving you a soaked and shivering mess in the creeping darkness. Though the rain has stopped, the clouds remain. They blanket the entire sky, reaching towards the valley. They trickle over the tops of the scarlet mountains, spilling down like a waterfall.
You’re about to turn to leave when another falling fleck of ash flits in front of your face, tickling your eyelashes.
You catch it in your open hand, waiting for it to dissolve into the dewiness of your palm. But it just lays there, whole and unyielding. Picking it up, you examine it carefully, before tentatively twirling it around between your fingertips.
What you thought was a fleck of ash wasn’t actually, but a midnight datura petal.
Your eyes widen in shock, cradling the fragmented bloom in your palm as if it were a newborn hatchling. Whirling around, you search for any possible signs that there could be flowering daturas in the valley. But the ground is covered in nothing but melting ash, as far as your eye can see. Surely nothing could have survived here.
But the flesh feels healthy and supple as you pinch it gently between your fingertips, as if it’d just been freshly plucked.
Wrapping your arms around your soaked and shivering body, the petal tucked in between your fingers, you look out one last time into the vast expanse of ashen scarlet hills.
Somewhere out there, there is a blooming datura. If even just one.
“Tarus City will bloom once more–as far as the eye can see.”
You let the wind carry your voice off, louder and stronger than you’d intended. The meadow listens, your words echoing into the heart of the valley.
“But only for you, Sylus.”
You bring the datura petal to your lips, pressing it tenderly there. For a second, you contemplate holding onto it. Taking it with you.
But perhaps that’d been your mistake all these years.
Holding on when you should’ve been letting go.
You unclasp your fingers, and the wind lifts the petal from your hands. As it flutters past your shoulders, there’s an inexplicable warmth that emanates from Sylus’s mark–the faint traces of the bittersweet scent of cindered blossoms tickling your nostrils.
It drifts higher, towards the call of the wild–the mountain ranges beckoning it toward them. Higher until you can barely make it out from the expanse of the twilight sky.
Higher, until it disappears beyond the cloudfall.
♪ Don't let me go. ♫

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Cherry (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 3K
Summary: you didn’t except that the first time joel said he loved you that he would mean he was in love with you. you did love him. like a friend. even a father. but you always wanted to hear those words, and you couldn’t break his heart, could you?
Tags: (18+), cw: dark themes, age gap, biting, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, couch sex, complicated/unhealthy relationship, mutual desperation, not dubcon but heed the adjacent warning (joel doesn’t know how yn really feels), sorry I don’t know what came over me guys I wanted something with some insane desire, angst, and smut
A/N: guys… I haven’t written for joel in almost 2 years that’s actually crazy… how?? he’s literally my fave dilf ever?? what a fic for me to come back to joel with tho wow enjoy fellow freaks I’ll write fluff for him soon too
tlou masterlist + main masterlist
It didn’t matter how long Joel had tried to convince you that he had just done the right thing, you still believed you owed him your life. Because he saved your life.
And after a period of Joel insisting you stay away from him for your own good, back when you lived in the QZ, he eventually took you under his wing. Now, he was intent on keeping you there.
It was his responsibility to protect you. It was his responsibility to make sure you had everything you needed. It was his responsibility to make sure you never got consumed by the darkness of this world like he had. It was his job to keep you safe. And you? You loved it.
More like you loved Joel, but you never bothered to separate the man from his actions. Why would you? You loved him. You really did. And he did the same for you.
The love you had for him was all consuming ever since he had told you, “I want you by my side, no matter what.”
Being in Jackson brought peace and security, and you were assured that your connection wasn’t merely out of necessity. You continued to choose each other. You would always choose him over everything else. It was just what you did.
You loved him because he saved you, but it was more than that. So, so much more.
You loved him like a friend, who you could talk to about anything. Your age difference hindered your ability to relate to one another on a lot of things, like the way you looked at the world, or how you solved problems, but even when you weren’t agreeing, you at least understood one another in a way no one else could.
In Jackson, it had been suggested that you could live with some other girls closer to your age, but Joel ended that discussion. Instead of a two bedroom house, he took up residence in one with three. You never would’ve wanted to live apart from him and Ellie, but you were relieved he had been the one to decide. It reaffirmed that you were just as important to him as he was to you. You needed that reassurance more often than you’d ever let him know.
When you first arrived, before you found your place in the community, you would hide out in the house. It was hard for you to grow accustomed to the way of life here, and even harder to trust people. Joel made sure you never stayed alone too long. When Ellie was out, which was more often than you but less than Joel, he would end up returning. Some days you found yourselves talking nearly every waking hour, and laughing together more than either of you could’ve expected.
He knew you loved him like a friend, but you loved him like a father as well. You never told him that flat out. You could just hear the grumbly comments about making him feel old, and even though it would be light hearted jokes, you wanted to keep the relationship as it was.
Joel was a toughened person, but he treated you delicately when he could. It would get to a point where you thought the label ‘fragile: handle with care’ was printed on you, but he never talked down to you. You liked that he protected you and made you feel safe without controlling you like he would a daughter. Not like how he was with Ellie. You were fine seeing him as a father without him seeing you as a daughter. It was best this way.
Needless to say, you loved him simply as the person he was. It overwhelmed you sometimes.
No, not sometimes. Often.
Everything he did made you okay with the fact that he had never said the exact words. He’d come close, had said them in many other ways, had proved to you that he did, but you never got the real thing. That was something you had thought you could live with as long as you could feel it. And as long as you could continue to love him as well.
So with Joel, now, sitting on the couch by your side, facing you and saying, “I love you. I have for a while,” your heart jumped from your chest. It changed everything in an instant.
You were smiling before you registered that he wouldn’t meet your eye. And was that… shame, maybe, in his voice? The way he kept it low, like he wasn’t sure he should be speaking.
Joel, in the distant past, would get frustrated with your naivety before it became a thing that endeared you to him.
It took you a long moment to get it. Then, all at once, you did. You wondered if he could read the shift in your face. From the moment your awe became tainted with understanding.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Joel continued. “But you know I hate lying to you, and not telling you… it felt like lying and I couldn’t do it anymore.” He swallowed. “I love you,” he repeated, to both you and himself.
Deep brown eyes that held years of life you couldn’t even begin to understand met yours, and you couldn’t seem to speak. Those words felt forbidden from him. You had spent so much time wanting to hear them, longing to hear them, before you made peace with the fact you wouldn’t. You had become okay with never hearing them from Joel because he consistently proved it to you in every other way.
And now, here he was, telling you he loved you, and you hadn’t leapt at the chance to say it back.
You knew why, and so did he. You could see him searching your face and with every second that passed, you watched his confidence crumble.
Joel was hurting. Your silence made him ache.
He took a long breath, bowed his head and shook it a little to himself. Experiencing regret in its entirety.
“I’m sorry,” he uttered finally. It felt like a knife to hear the defeat in his voice. He turned to face forward. “I- I should’ve known better.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I’m so much older than you, and I’ve done things that I can’t come back from, and you…” Joel stole a lingering glance. “You’re so perfect.”
You were the furthest thing from perfect, but you believed that Joel believed you were. It was the way he said it. He was so sure and you loved him for it. For seeing you in ways you couldn’t even see yourself.
You watched him, knowing that the man you loved was hurting. It didn’t seem fair to let him continue when you knew you were the only one that could make it stop.
It was almost an out of body experience, the way you moved. First closer to him, so close your legs were touching. Then your hand reached for his, your smaller fingers wrapping around it to squeeze. When he met your eyes, you saw the moment hope replaced pain, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“I love you, too,” you said, because it was true.
It was both a surprise and not when he kissed you. It was soft at first, and it reminded you of the way he often was with you. When you didn’t pull away, it ignited something in him. Suddenly his hands were on your face, deepening the kiss.
You kissed him back because he needed you to.
When Joel felt your lips moving against his, it told him two things. One, it told him what he needed to know, which was that you loved him. And two, it told him what you wanted him to believe, which was that you wanted this.
Joel grew a little more sure, pulling you closer to him. He couldn’t get enough and was struggling to hold back. You could feel it. Both his want and his restraint.
You weren’t sure what to do with your hands, so you put them over his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck, letting your fingers card in the longer ends of his grown out hair. You always wondered what his hair felt like.
Joel liked your curiosity and let his own get the better of him. His lips trailed from yours down to the side of your neck. You sucked in air, your face hot as you tried to catch your breath, when all of the sudden his kisses were replaced with a small, suckling bite. You gasped. You couldn’t help it. His hands moved, one resting on your back when the other held the back of your neck. Not hard, just keeping your close. You buried your face into his shoulder as he grew more confident with the use of his teeth.
The moan that escaped your lips when he soothed the harder bite with his tongue made his grip tighten. His breath hitched. You swallowed, flustered, unsure of yourself as your body shivered on its own. Joel pulled back to look at you, just long enough for you to see the desire clouding his eyes, and then he was crushing his lips against yours.
The weight of Joel’s body pushed you down onto the couch. You kissed him back, trying to keep up with his rough, hungry mouth, but your inexperience was catching up to you. You’d only ever kissed boys before, and now you had a man on top of you, his body pressed firmly to yours, his hands running down your frame as he devoured your lips and nipped at your skin. Muttering about how beautiful you were and that he was trying to be gentle but that you could tell him to stop if you wanted. He didn’t know you wouldn’t because as wrong as it felt, you wanted to give him everything he wanted. In turn, all you wanted was to hear him say he loved you again.
You didn’t need it before but now you couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t enough when Joel peppered kisses to your lips and neck. It wasn’t enough when he pressed himself between your legs and caused you to dig your nails into his back. You needed more. You needed him to say it again.
You let him take off your clothes when he asked so, so sweetly. You knew Joel was going to admire you, and he did, and that look on his face was worth the uncertainty you felt. He wouldn’t let you cover yourself, and it felt kind of nice when he kept your arms from crossing over your chest. It reminded you how strong he was, but how even with all that strength, and even when using it on you, he was careful. He didn’t want to truly hurt you, and you loved him for it.
“I’m gonna take care of you,” he promised, lips against your ear as his fingers settled between your legs.
“I know,” you managed, breathless.
It made him smile, which made you smile. You couldn’t stop staring at him when he lifted his head to look at you. That is, until he pushed a finger into you. Your eyes fluttered shut and he was immediately in your ear again, and you understood for the first time the term ‘sweet nothings’. His low, soothing voice against your ear helped you relax as he pushed in another finger, and after a few minutes, another.
You were wet, you couldn’t help it. You found yourself apologizing, but he encouraged it. He liked you squirming beneath him, liked that your body was responding.
“It’s okay, baby, you’re doing good,” he groaned. “I want you to be ready for me
You didn’t know what possessed you to say it, but the words, “I am,” slipped from your lips. It was all he needed to hear.
His fingers slid from your body. A little voice in the back of your head told you to get them back, but it was silenced when he pulled the rest of his clothes from his body. You felt the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance. You couldn’t look down, and you were too embarrassed to look him in the eye, so you shut yours.
A hand touched your face.
“Look at me,” Joel urged. “Don’t be shy. I wanna see you.”
You obliged, forcing your eyes open, watching him above you. You found it hard to believe you never fully saw how handsome Joel was.
When he began to push into you, the stretch was much more than his fingers. You had to open your legs wider. Joel ran his hands up and down your hips and waist, soothing you as he eased himself inside, telling you, “It’s okay, you’re doing great. Just relax. You’re taking me so well,” and you couldn’t help but bask in the praise. It hurt a little, but you were practically purring by the time he was fully seated inside. You didn’t mean to, but your body squeezed him, and his cock throbbed inside you.
Joel made a noise of pure bliss as he let his weight rest on you. You were so overheated, sweat slick between your bodies. When he started kissing you again you almost forgot about it. He was a good kisser, which made sense given he had more experience than you. A twinge of jealousy ran through you at the thought of him with anyone else and you pulled him closer. It wasn’t quite a laugh he let out, most just a sound of amusement at your actions.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.
One of his hands found the back of your head, holding you so your mouth was his and he could have his way. The other hand ran over your ass and down your thigh, encouraging you to wrap your legs around him. You did.
He started to move, then. Pulling back a little and pushing in. It was such a foreign feeling. You couldn’t keep your noises to yourself, but Joel savored them. When he started to move a little faster, his methodical motions turning into thrusts, he seemed to be seeking those reactions from you.
It was a cycle. The rougher he moved, the more whimpers and moans he pulled from you, and then in turn the sounds spurred him on. You were holding onto him for dear life by the time he was pounding you into the couch, groaning your name, telling you how good you were.
“It’s like you’re made for me,” he grunted into your ear, and you hoped he meant it, because you believed it.
“I’m yours,” you told him.
“Tell me again,” Joel started in a grunt, thrusting forward. He held himself completely inside you for a moment, shuddering as your nails dragged down his back. It took your breath away, feeling so full. He pressed his forehead to yours as he said, “Do you mean it? You love me?”
“Yes,” you said without hesitation. It was true. It was the only thing you’d known to be true and maybe this wasn’t the way, wasn’t something you imagined, but it didn’t make that simple fact any less true.
“Say it.”
“I love you.”
Joel groaned, shoving his hips forward. You whimpered. He was already in you to the hilt.
“Again,” he groaned.
He needed it just as bad as you did.
“I love you, Joel. I love you.”
He pulled out before thrusting back in. Again and again you told him, and he moved, building back up to an even harder pace than before. You could hardly stand it but you told him over and over again like a chant;
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” and even breathless you never faltered. Even when Joel kissed you rough and needy, like he was starved, you still got out the words, “I love you.”
Your legs were barely holding on despite your effort. Your hands began to slide from his back but you continued to grasp onto him. One of his hands found your wrist. You would let him if he wanted to, but you didn’t want him to hold it down. You needed to touch him. Needed to feel him. Needed the security that he proved.
As if he could read your mind, he turned his face to kiss your palm, then let your wrist go. He gave you free range. You chose to run that hand fully through his hair. Every part of you needed to be touching every part of him. He invaded your mind and soul, the last step was your body, and he was accomplishing that this very second. You belonged entirely to him. Even as tears pricked in your eyes at how overwhelming it all was, to love and be loved by Joel was all you’d ever wanted and known for years.
He huffed out a half grunt half laugh when your body started to tense. He was pleased. Could read your body better than even you. You were so lost in the sensation that you let out a yelp when a hand moved between your legs, rubbing at you in tandem with his cock slamming into you.
“That’s it,” he coaxed. “Just let go.”
And you did. It didn’t even feel like a choice. It just happened. The pleasure became too much to handle. It rippled through your whole body as the knot in your belly snapped. You tensed and shuddered around Joel, holding onto him as your cunt clenched down around him, trying to keep him inside to allow you ride out the wave without feeling empty. Joel wasn’t keen on denying you. His thrusts became shallow but hard, sending jolts through you until you felt it. With a groan he stilled inside you, and then warmth flooded your insides. He rocked his hips forward a little as he spilled inside you, and you felt like you couldn’t breathe.
As the haze started to fade and awareness returned, something akin to dread settled over you. Everything became all too real all at once.
Joel kissed life back into you. His hand between your legs moved to run across your belly and thighs, while the other held your face so he had as much access to your lips as he wanted.
You started to move, feeling crushed, but Joel took care of that. He managed to turn your bodies so you were lying on top of him, but he was careful to not withdraw from you. He bucked his hips up a little and you whined. Joel chuckled as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you to him. You turned your head to the side, your cheek resting against his chest. You listened to his heart rate come back down, unfocused eyes trailing around the living room. Joel kissed the top of your head and ran his calloused hands over your back.
“How did I get so lucky?” he asked, not really looking for an answer. You didn’t have one, anyway.
You wanted to crawl off of him. It was all becoming too much again. As good as it had all felt, it confused you, and you thought maybe you wanted to cry, but then came the words that had you subdued.
“I love you, Y/N,” Joel breathed.
You didn’t think he understood the power he had in his words. As far as he knew, you loved him the same way as he loved you. You would continue to let him think that if it meant you could protect him from the heartache, and if you could keep hearing him say the words you craved. You knew, eventually, you could learn to love him this way, too. If he was happy, you knew you could be too. Being loved by him was all you ever wanted. It didn’t matter how else you felt because that need would take priority over everything. You would always choose him over everything else. It was just what you did.

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee @str84pedro @koukatsuki @darleneslane @larascorneroftheworld
I wasn’t sure whether to use the taglist for smut since I’d only written fluff for him before, so if you’re on the taglist and only want to be tagged in fluff not smut just lmk
if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message!
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller#joel miller smut#the last of us#pedro pascal#quin-ns writing
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serpent hybrid hyunjin 🌱🐍🌱
hyunjin never acted like this. you had never seen him behave so much like a serpent. was he experiencing an unusual kind of heat? did snakes do that...well u just gotta find out
i love this concept so much ill scream-
reblogging > liking
-contains mature themes (two dicks and a split tongue ahhh)



snake hybrids weren't exactly judged well in society. stereotypical beliefs calling them mean slithery liars who manipulate people.
they were just misjudged. misunderstood hybrids who needed affection too. maybe the energy exhuded made them look tough and deadly but deep down they were sweeter than even bunny hybrids.
thats why your boyfriend, hyunjin is always by your side.
theres nothing quite different about snake hybrids. except for the patches of scales on different parts of their body.
however some had no scales, instead just forked tongues. hyunjin was no exception. patient and mind numbingly soft at all times. snuggling into you every now and then.
thats why when you step into the house,you aren't expecting the strong whiff of a certain peculiar smell. its musky and fills the whole apartment.
you don't even know what you're smelling until you're embraced by him. his body warm, reeking of musk. intoxicating your senses.
"hyun-" you let out hurriedly, dropping your bag on the ground in shock. his face buried in your neck. hands running all over your body.
practically pushing you against the door, slipping his left hand between your legs while his right hand grabbed your backside. gasping at the way you seem to float off the ground. he's picking you up quicker than you can even process.
"what's going on? baby?" you say, trying to wriggle out of his firm hold. he's stronger than before and he continues holding you off the ground.
hyunjin hisses.
he fucking hisses.
and your eyes widen. thats only the second time he's ever hissed at you. once during an argument and right now. did that mean he was angry?
"heat." is all he says, huffing as he slams the bedroom door open. throwing you on the bed. not caring at the funny way, you bounced on the soft mattress.
"what do you mean? I thought snakes..don't get heats..."
you questioned. watching as he paced around the room, trying to control himself.
taking off his hoodie. arms out on display. shining with a thin layer of sweat. his hair soaked.
"fuck i don't know...i was washing our clothes and i got the smell of your shirt..."
he mumbles, and your eyes go down to where theres a prominent bulge in his pants. a wet patch staining the material.
"and its like my senses went wild. all I was thinking of was you. fucking you over and over again..." hyunjin slurs, his forked tongue peeking out.
"jinnie...your tongue"
you whisper. intrigued at how his tongue slipped past his lips every few seconds. he had never done that before.
"i can't control it-" he covers his mouth, gazing at you with needy eyes.
were his eyes always so sharp, you wondered.
"its okay baby, breathe" you reassure, opening your arms for him to come to you. and he does. resting his head on your shoulder, his weight pressing you down into the bed.
leaning into kiss him innocently when all of a sudden, his hands are on either side of your face, pulling you in for a needy kiss.
brain shutting off at the feeling of his forked tongue licking into your mouth. forcing you to be submissive because you knew you wouldn't win this battle.
.
🌱
.
"j-jinnie" squirming under him.
his hands pinning your lower half down. head buried between your legs. your toes curling everytime he maneuvered his tongue to simultaneously flick at your sensitive clit and slip between your swollen lips.
"shhh"
u don't know if he's shushing you or hissing at you.
because the next thing you feel is his fork like tongue pushing all over your folds. fingers digging into your hips with strength that had your cunt throbbing.
whining at the loss as he lifts his head up. teasingly using the tips of his wet muscle to prod at your bundle of nerves. face contorting in pleasure at your taste. breath heavy on your warmth.
"breed." he blurts out, surprising himself. your mouth opening in shock when his nails dig into your waist.
his nails had grown longer, into claws and the once hardly noticeable scales on his forearms became visible. gradient shade of black and grey.
"hyun! h-hyunjin, baby b-bab-"
writhing higher into the mattress as he pushed your legs further apart.
nestling his split tongue over your swollen pussy. teasingly managing to place your clit in the Y of his wet muscle.
had his tongue grown longer because you could feel him so deep...
.
.
"h-hyun?" you whisper, gripping his arm to relax your body for him. scales textured and rough under your calloused palm.
"m'right here, baby" hyunjin cooes. placing a hand flat on your lower stomach. eyes fixed on where he was prepping you.
with both his dicks. rubbing the tip over your folds while the other pressed into your entrance. leaking more and more slick that mixed with your own arousal.
"almost in, my love" nudging the first one in with extreme care. your fingers grasping at him. his jaw hanging open as he pushed in, groaning when he slid halfway in.
spreading your thighs so he could start to push his second dick in. the sensation and stretch making you cry in a mix of pain and pleasure.
snake hybrids had two features that only a person who they were close to, would find out about. a forked long tongue means their dicks are the same as well.
hyunjin was not particularly big. actually he was slightly above average considering snake hybrids had longer lengths and lesser girths.
hyunjin had thicker girths and the length of both his dicks were just perfect. neither too big nor too small.
but right now, he felt bigger.
he felt longer. he felt hot.
thats why when he pushes both of them past your entrance, you let out a muffled scream. eyes rolling back at the fullness. quite literally stuffed like this, for the first time.
"f-fuck gonna take me all in"
lowering himself to look down at you. his arms on either side of your head. placing his larger hands on your face. lips brushing against your open mouth.
"thats my precious girl~" and your pussy spasms around him.
getting him soaked because the way the word 'precious' rolled off his tongue, could make you cum on the spot. rolling his s's and a few other alphabets in a serpent like way. something he'd usually never do.
a firm thrust that has your hands flying up to hold onto him. clawing at his back while he buried himself deeper into your cunt. stretching you out with every rough movement.
the scales on his back were larger and travelled down his spine. groaning as you scratched down his back, hard enough to leave red imprints.
"gonna take my cum like a good mate, yes~" hyunjin hisses, watching you so closely. letting his tongue run over your front teeth, all the way down to your bottom lip.
you nod at his statement. wrapping your legs around his waist. pulling him closer. not caring if his patterns of uneven scales scratched you here and there.
plush lips kissing you with such intensity. his nose pressing into your cheek. pushing you deeper into the pillow. trailing a hand down to where your chest touched his. grabbing a handful of flesh and squeezing hard enough to make you arch your back.
taking the opportunity to thrust in deeper. your bottom half nearly lifted off the bed with his strength.
pads of his fingers pinching and pulling at your sensitive nubs. hooking your leg higher so he could change the angle. filling you up with warmth. it makes your eyes struggle to stay open.
this was nowhere near over...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
hiss hiss need more snake hyunjin ideas FUVKKKKK
part two
#snake hybrid hyunjin#snake hyunjin#lives in my mind rent free#this reminded me of alien hyunjin#TWO DICKS-#stray kids hybrid#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz drabbles#hyunjin hybrid#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#hwang hyunjin imagines#hyunjin imagines#stray kids supernatural#fluffylino works#fluffylino's masterlist#hwang hyunjin#bang chan smut#lee minho smut#skz × reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids hard thoughts#stray kids hard hours#hybrid skz#serpent hyunjin has my heart#stray kids reactions#stray kids headcanons
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YES YES EXACTLY THIS!
And let's not forget Falin in this! Laios has suffered from feeling like not belonging but also has witnessed how his sister was treated for being considered abnormal. In Laios' eyes Falin is worthy of the same respect as everyone, she's as normal as everyone and if being different means not worthy of existing then why is the world like that? Why we're all different even in the same species? Laios asks these questions and gets no answer and believes that he can find an answer by getting closer to the different and what's more different to a human than a monster?
The reason the monsters like the succubus, and even the winged lion, are baffled by Laios is because Laios sees them in the same level. They see him as a prey but so does he and they don't really know how to handle this. Winged lion had learnt from humans that they will never associate themselves with something they consider inferior or too far from them (hell, even the long lived races do that with the short lived) and yet he finds Laios who isn't like that. And it's not because Laios is special or the chosen one or whatever. No, it's because Laios is just a human who can't follow this concept of made up hierarchy and instead he sees life as it is. You bleed, you starve, you die, then you're alive in the same world as he is.
And the reason Laios wants to become a monster is because he wants to show how there's no difference between humans and monsters and if they could toss aside the gap between them they could finally have peace. Of course, this can't be true and he deeply knows it well. Eating is the privilege of the living and as long as you live you'll fight to eat. And that's not bad or cruel. No, in his eyes this is natural and even beautiful. Only by eating you make the different part of yourself and that's how the circle of life is supposed to be. And that's how he beat the demon, by reminding it that it is the circle of life itself.
Anyway, I feel like my thoughts are too incoherent but my point is that Laios has a deep understanding of the circle of life by refusing to see himself above it and I think somehow he manages to make people understand his point by the end. (Yes, even Senshi, who may have deep respect for the ecosystem and the circle of life but his pov was still of someone who sees monsters only as food- except the ones who deems for some reason useful for more or pretty, like the Kelpie, and this is similar to how Marcille tends to separate kinds of monsters and now I'm thinking if this has to do because they're long lived races and oh my god this is getting far from our topic).
And yes Laios always loved and craved human bonding. Did we forget how this all started? A brother wanting to save his sister and relying on his comrades by opening up.
Laios, the Demon King, Devourer, is the most human character.
I've been thinking about Laios' succubus lately. Mulling it over a bit.
Because I've seen these pages brought up a fair bit, but almost entirely in the context of shipping (on all sides, really). And I really want to understand what they are doing for the story beyond that.
When I went back to reread the scene and section, a few things caught my interest: the way Laios responds to both forms of his succubus, the themes of the volume the chapter is found in, and the other events of the chapter itself.
So let's dive into those three things, and what I think they say about the succubus scene's purpose.
Laios is never fully frozen by the succubus
So. If you compare Marcille and Chilchuck's reactions...
to Laios':
-
There is a difference. Sure, the basics may look the same once it turns into Scylla Marcille, but even then, it functions differently.
Chilchuck and Marcille are completely frozen once they catch sight of their succubus. Izutsumi, as well, isn't able to look away, and completely freezes up once her 'mom' starts talking to her. As Chilchuck describes, "just looking at them makes you unable to move."
And yet, Scylla Marcille has to actively convince Laios to comply. He even looks away from her at one point!
Laios accepts this succubus, but he is never actually helpless to it in the same way. Taken in? Convinced? Sure, at least enough to let things happen that he probably should question more than he does. But magically compelled? Not really. Not the same way as everyone else is. So that's interesting. But let's move on for now.
2. Volume 9 is all about drive and desire
I don't often look at chapters within the context of the volume they are included in, but I think there's some really fun things to be found with that perspective in mind.
For one, volume 9 starts with an exploration of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
And ends with a question of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
It's also very concerned in general with questions of why people do what they do. Why they are in the dungeon, why they are with the people they are with, why they stay, what they fight for.
In addition to Laios, we see it with Marcille...
Izutsumi
Kabru
and Mithrun
Hell, we even get it for the demon!
It's certainly not the only volume concerned with desires and motives, but it is particularly focused on these ideas.
The succubus scene fits quite well into the ongoing question about desires, especially Laios' desires. It is even placed at an interesting spot within the volume. The volume is six chapters long, and the scene takes place at the start of the 4th chapter. It's almost smack-dab in the middle.
With all this in mind, it is interesting that, with both versions of the succubus Marcille, it's not totally clear which parts of her Laios is rejecting.
The first version of Marcille looks human, but Laios attacks when he identifies her as a monster. The second Marcille looks like a monster, but he seems to believe that she is the real (human)(ish) person that he knows. So is he rejecting the monster at first, and then accepting the person? Or is he rejecting humanity and only interested in the monstrous?
Something to consider as we look at the next point...
3. the rest of the chapter is a seduction, too
This is one of those things that might not be apparent on a first reading, but is crystal clear on a revisit. We see the succubus try and charm Laios over 7 pages, and then see the Winged Lion do the same thing for the next 19.
Much like the succubus, it offers the mingling of monsters and humans. Much like the succubus, it offers belonging.
(and this is the point where I absolutely must also link this post by fumifooms on the succubus, which has some great ideas on how the scene is informed by Laios' trauma and desire for acceptance!!!)
But, back to the point. The Winged Lion wants to feed on Laios just as much as the succubus did, and it uses similar strategies to try and make that happen. Though this chapter isn't really the turning point for the next Lord of the Dungeon (it is Marcille who will, eventually, become the Lion's next victim), it certainly behaves like it is.
Laios is convinced. The succubus gets its meal. By the end of the volume, the reader begins to understand how concerning his desires are. Together, it is all very good at building up that sense of dread and pending disaster, as we see exactly how and why Laios might just fall into the Lion's open arms and bring about the end of the world.
-
So that's the three things I noticed. But there's still something I want to touch on by looking at the way these observations overlap, and what they reveal, together.
As I said, by the end of the volume, you can feel the tension growing. Just as Kabru and Mithrun do, you look back for an answer to the questions that have been built, chapter by chapter: why is Laios here? Where will his loyalties fall? This chapter, and scene, seem to prove the inevitable truth: he will choose the monster, of course. He will choose the seductive, easy power of the Winged Lion.
But the details of what actually happens tell different story: one in which the Lion is wrong.
First, as a reminder - even in Scylla Marcille mode, the succubus never fully entrances Laios. It convinces him, but it doesn't have him completely under its thrall.
Similarly, in the dream, the Lion does convince Laios to embrace the world he is offering. But even within that dream, Laios continues to ask questions that will be vital to him later. It is because of those questions that Laios comes to a new understanding about Thistle.
And it's this realization that he cites later as part of his reason for refusing the Lion's offer.
He is thinking through things the entire time, just like he continues to question the succubus even after it turns into Scylla Marcille.
Laios also expresses an interesting reason for why he wants to see the future of this world. He's not just invested because it would mean people liking what he likes, or him getting to spend time with monsters. The thought that comes immediately before his acceptance is about what he wants for monsters and people.
I don't think it's a coincidence that this statement - "we're living beings that share the same world, but all we can do is keep killing each other" - can apply to the various humans races just as much as it does to humans and monsters. The thing he is thinking about here isn't just a matter of his personal daydreams. It's an idea that underpins every conflict in the story.
Laios caring about how people as well as monsters in this manner is something that the Lion gets wrong every time. Even at the end, he still frames Laios' desires entirely around hating people and loving monsters.
The Lion has heard him express an opinion about the future of the world! It happened right there in the dream, right in front of him! He just didn't take it seriously, and didn't view it through any lens other than "Laios likes monsters more".
He's convinced that he understands how to get to Laios. Maybe the Lion can't truly see everything, or maybe his vision into everyone's deepest desires has made it hard for him to realize how much choice still matters. That people can, and do, choose which desires to act on, and how to act on them.
Whatever the case, he's wrong about Laios, and the story shows us this over and over again.
After all, look at how the succubus interaction plays out:
A monster uses Marcille to appeal to Laios...
He realizes that something about the situation is wrong, and rejects her.
It changes strategies, and makes new offer: to turn him into a monster.
It also assures him that his friends are, or will be, taken care of.
He accepts. Or rather, allows the monster to have its way with him.
But Laios is not as helpless as he initially appears, and what the Lion thinks is a successful seduction also contains the seed of an idea that will allow Laios to later resist him.
We even get to see Izutsumi playing a similar role in both instances, as the one person fully able to take action in the face to the illusion.
The story lays out what is going happen, and then explicitly tells us that the demon and the succubus are thematically related.
The chapter performs a great sleight of hand here - everything about it seems to indicate that Laios is doomed give in to the option to have his deepest desires realized. But if you look closer, it also contains the evidence that he won't. There's a lot more going on for him.
Yes, he still falls for obvious tricks. He is still extremely into monsters, and he still doesn't feel like he fits in with other people. He may, deep down, crave to surrender to the monstrous - to let it absorb him. But he questions more than he seems to. He considers more than people realize. He cares so much more than anyone gives him credit for.
And I think this is part of why we see the succubus called back to so many times, especially with the wolf head addition to his Monster Form, which he specifically added due to his encounter with the Scylla Marcille.
This all stays with Laios. It doesn't just foreshadow the path of the story, it is fundamental to how and why he walks that path. It's not about him choosing monsters, and it's not about him choosing people. It's about how he considers both, and cares about both.
And it's about the forces that think they already know his answer. Mithrun and Kabru. The Winged Lion. The succubus.
It's about how they are wrong.
#love how ryoko took the human fighter stereotype and showed it to its glory for what it is#and love how she took the classic story let's save the person i love the most but made the main character still have you know a character#laios still has his interests and worries and feelings and despite his loss he continues to move on and eat and sleep and live#oh god he is so human i am crying#anyway thanks for adding my thoughts and thank you for reading#maybe it's because the fandom becomes bigger but i feel laios' mischaracterization is so regular and it's a shame#but yeah it has been some time since an anime protagonist thrilled me that much and made me analyse so many themes and things#hope my thoughts here make even a bit if sense#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi spoilers
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mad at me - paige bueckers x reader
Summary: After a bad game, you tell Paige to take her frustrations out on you, an offer she gladly accepts
Themes/Warnings: angry sex (safe words are present), orgasm denial, overstimulation, degradation, etc.
Word Count: 4k
Note: i genuinely don't know what came over me guys i swear i don't just write smut lmfaooooo. anyways here's a result of me being bored and angry and also to celebrate the triple digit win today, enjoy!!
There was something you loved about the smell of rain on grass on an early February day. While the winter season in Storrs was brutal, overly long and gloomy, the way the earthy notes filled your senses as you walked home, surrounded by a thick fog, would have given you a pleasant reminder of the incoming spring on any other day. Unfortunately, this was not any other day.
There was no sugarcoating it: the Huskies had an awful game yesterday. The team could not seem to get their shots to fall, shooting only twenty percent from three and forty percent from the paint against a team that should have been a hell of a lot easier to dominate offensively. Miscommunications led to numerous turnovers and lost opportunities for shots (you lost track of how many times a player failed to spot a wide open Azzi, leading to frustration from both her and Paige). You were unable to make the game, having a massive exam the next day and not having the time to spend even a few hours not being remotely locked in. Your attempt to focus was futile as you sat in the library, headphones in and struggling to pay attention to your Quizlet set as the announcers seemed to tear into every single decision your girlfriend made on the broadcast.
Paige ended up being thankful you weren’t there in person, not wanting you to see the carnage firsthand, but it didn’t make you feel any less guilty. Paige never took a loss easy, but it seemed like this one especially got to her. After your exam you checked in once again, only for her to say they would be spending the majority of the night in the film room watching the game. Afterward, she planned on staying on the court to practice her shot, eager to not repeat the same mistakes come March.
You loved how dedicated she was, you really did. But you were starting to get really, really worried about her.
You had fully accepted that you would likely not see much of her for the next few days, allowing yourself the night to unwind after a grueling exam (you were happy to say you’re positive you passed it, as low of a bar as that is). You let your muscles relax under the steam of your shower, the eucalyptus hanging from the shower head and the lavender in your body wash clearing your mind of all your worries from this week momentarily. That is until you realized you couldn’t completely enjoy it knowing that Paige was out there, absolutely destroying herself over something that was not solely her fault. She deserves to relax too, you thought with a frown.
After spritzing your favorite scent around your room, lathering your legs in your most moisturizing lotion, and crawling into your freshly washed sheets, you were prepared for a night of finally continuing your latest pleasure read (a book that had been thrown aside the past week in favor of a biology text book). What you weren’t prepared for is the buzz emitting from your phone about twenty minutes into your self care night, right in the middle of a sexually charged scene between the two love interests. Your confusion was quickly replaced with concern when you saw that it was Paige attempting to FaceTime you.
Upon answering, you noted how sweat pooled at the top of her forehead, which was creased in frustration. Her hair was in a slicked back pony, her UConn blue practice was soaked through, and she looked pissed as she stood in the middle of the court.
“None of my fucking shots are landing,” she grumbled before you could even greet her, wiping away some of the sweat with the hand not holding the phone. “I’ve been here for the past hour after Geno let us go, and I can’t figure out where I’m going wrong.”
She appeared to be getting even more worked up as she spoke, a flush rising to her cheeks. “I’m supposed to be one of the oldest ones here, I can’t be out here making rookie ass mistakes. It’s not going to go well in March, and it’s definitely not going to go well in the W.”
It broke your heart to see this. Paige always said pressure was a privilege, but you watched in real time as the normal pressure Paige had on her shoulders evolved into something deeper, something closer to self loathing. “Paige, baby, I think you need to take a break. You can’t perform well if you’re like this.”
She shook her head no, an action you anticipated. Picking up her water bottle and spraying some in her mouth, she continued, “Nah, I gotta keep going. I just need to figure out how I can fucking focus.”
You took note of the grip on the water bottle, the command in her voice, and her determination. The idea hit you like a runaway train, tumbling through your lips before you could hesitate.
“Take it out on me.”
Paige had made half assed eye contact with the camera the entire conversation, too frustrated and ashamed to face you, but these five words brought her wide eyes to face yours. You couldn’t tell if they were filled with disbelief or intrigue - maybe both. “What?”
It’s not like you and Paige’s sex life was completely tame. She was always down to try new positions, whether it be using fingers, mouths, or toys. There have definitely been nights where her teammates have sent her a strongly worded message letting her know that their walls were not as thick as she thought. But sex between the two of you had always been passionate, loving … never angry. Until now.
You would be lying if you said you never felt some type of way watching Paige get upset at the refs, wondering what that kind of attention would look like in bed. As much as you trusted Paige, you just didn’t want to run the risk of saying anything that would alter her perception of you. But here you were, sat in bed wearing an old high school tee shirt and pajama shorts (not the sexiest outfit on the planet), and there was no way of deleting what you’ve already said. Inhaling, you continue. “You need to get your frustration out before you can shoot. I’m just saying you have an outlet.”
The gesture to your body was not lost on Paige, who looked like a deer in headlights. You were so close to ending the call, pulling your fuzzy blanket over your face and pretending none of this ever happened, when she spoke. “Are you saying you want me to fuck you to get my anger out?”
Her tone was blank, but even through the pixelated call (damn the poor signal in the practice court) you could see the switch in her - what was now a confused expression shifted to a calm kind of fire, the kind only you could recognize from her. Your stomach flipped, realizing she was just as into this idea as you were. Thank God. “I’m saying I want you to fuck me like you’re mad at me.”
She looked to the side, throwing her head slightly back and showing off her jawline. Without another word she moved to the side of the court, grabbing her bag and her keys off the ground. “Leave your door unlocked. I’m on my way,” she announced, before ending the call.
You gulped, knowing all you could do was open Find My, watch Paige slowly drive closer and closer to your apartment, and wonder what the hell you just got yourself into.
—-
Paige had learned the code to your apartment long before, having been with you exclusively for almost a year. So when she arrived at your place, with you standing waiting for her with fidgeting thumbs, it took her almost no time to set her bag down and saunter over to you, cupping your face and smashing your lips together. It could almost be described as romantic the way she was holding you, how one hand reached down to your torso to stabilize you. You couldn’t help but moan quietly as you felt her cologne mixed with her own musk waft into your senses.
But then she began stepping forward, forcing your steps with her against the fake hardwood, until your back was pressed against the wall. Paige finally pulled apart from you with a look that could only be described as pure, unrestricted hunger. All the rage towards herself, the frustration toward the previous days game, it all manifested into her gaze. One hand trailed to the side of your neck as she spoke softly, yet with strength. “Pretty girl wants to help me, huh?”
You nodded all too enthusiastically, taking pleasure in this new side of Paige: the one who was completely in control, and proud of it. She seemed to be taking pleasure in it as well, grabbing your wrist carefully and guiding the two of you to your bedroom which had been eagerly awaiting her arrival.
“I want to do this right,” she began, removing her shoes as you moved to sit on your bed with your feet dangling. “Green means keep going, yellow means pause, red means stop. The second you don’t want to do something, we stop. Got it?”
You nod, expecting nothing less than a tender check in from your girlfriend who was currently walking slowly to meet you. In some ways, you felt similar to your first time with Paige: slightly awkward, filled with unknowns. But you wanted this. God, you wanted this.
She reaches the bed, pushing you down onto the mattress you were laying in earlier in the night, this time in a far different context. Her lips are back on you, this time sucking harshly on your neck in places that are certain to switch shades tomorrow. You cannot bring yourself to care much in the moment, however, allowing yourself to be consumed by all things Paige.
Her hands move to your hips, trailing under the waist band of your shorts and quickly making a move to discard them. Her fingers touched your skin, alternating between hard grips and smooth brushes. “Take your shirt off,” she muttered, her grip tightening around your thighs as she spoke into your underwear clad cunt.
You obey her, feeling as though you had entered a trance from the way she spoke with so much authority. You know you look a little strange as you rush to get the shirt over your head, but Paige pays no mind: her eyes are busy tracing your frame, memorizing every curve, every mark, and every texture as if it was the first time. A smirk spread across her lips, her striking blue eyes somehow looking darker. “Can’t wait to fucking ruin you.”
She peppered kisses down your body, the fire in her body feeling more like worship as she made her way down your breasts, your stomach, all the way to your clothed core.
Discarding your underwear, she began one of her greatest talents off the court. You felt her flick her tongue against you, shuddering at the mix of impact as well as the air conditioning hitting your skin. Her mouth explored you, prompting sharp cries from you as you fell back against your pillows. She took a break to nip at the skin where your thigh met your core, evoking something between a yelp and a moan.
“Pussy so fucking good,” she spoke, continuing her ministrations. It was like she was fueled by your pleasure, each drop spurring her on further. Her teammates always joked about Paige being a munch - if they only knew to what extent.
She delved her tongue in further, using her hands to spread you open.
You felt a very familiar knot begin to form, one that you could always expect with your girlfriend. “So good… Gonna cum P.”
As soon as she went to work, Paige got off, leaving only the harsh breeze in her place as you laid there dumbfounded. The knot within you, once welcome, was now dulling into something tantalizing and almost painful.
You whined, “Why did you stop?”
Her laugh that followed felt downright mocking, reaching down to caress your face once more. “You didn’t think this was going to be easy, did you baby?”
You pouted, knowing you looked fucking ridiculous. “But I was so close.”
Your girlfriend shrugged, taking no concern in the way your pussy drenched your sheets or the way your nipples puffed unattended. “Get me off and maybe I’ll give you what you want.”
That sentence sent you into gear immediately, motivated by the urge to cheer up your girl as well as the selfish desire to get your way after your ruined orgasm. You scanned Paige’s body, drinking up every muscle as you shoved her shorts down along with her boxers. She laid down, taking your place with raised eyebrows looking nonchalant and cocky as ever.
You took your place between her thighs, offering kitten licks to her clit as her hands reached your hair. Your mouth opened further, allowing you to eat her out with the same fervor she was earlier.
You knew her well enough to know the tell tale signs she was enjoying herself - every sharp inhale, every squeeze of her legs, every hum she made. It all meant she was closer to what she wanted, and you were closer to what you needed. You just needed to hear it.
Pulling off of her clit with a pop, you shot your best doe eyed look at your girlfriend, who once again seemed to have a pool of sweat at her forehead. “Feel good baby?”
She responded not with words, but by shoving you back onto her core roughly, prompting you to continue your work on her. You looked and sounded like a fucking pornstar, moaning into her pussy as if you were the one getting off (which wasn’t that far off). You heard her grunt above you.
“Gonna cum on your pretty face.”
If Paige is one thing, it’s a woman of her word, so it doesn’t shock you when she fulfills her promise moments later. Her cum drips down your lips moments later, and you lap it all up. You live for this shit, watching Paige stare at you in amazement as she surrenders to your touch. The fire within the blonde settles, save for her continued labored breathing as evident by the rise and fall in her chest. She looks at you, her stare downright dangerous.
“Want me to make you cum, pretty girl?” From the way she said it, you knew she wasn’t asking.
You switched places once more, allowing her middle finger to slot itself in your pussy with the same vigor with which it once grabbed your head. She was pounding you, fingers focused on penetrating areas only she seemed to touch in the right way while her mouth payed ample attention to your clit.
You felt your legs jerk, eyes welling up. The familiar sensations of pleasure came back to you even quicker, flooding through you like Malibu waters. You were falling in so deep, your mind swimming in everything she was giving you.
Your legs gripped Paige’s head, an action that felt like muscle memory at this point. You didn’t even need to say it - she knew what this meant. And it meant she stopped once more, wiping her mouth and looking at you with a mischievous grin. You were just around ready to scream, gripping the pillow beside you.
“I did what you wanted, baby, please.” You whimpered, looking downright helpless at this point. “Please let me cum.”
You were so eager, and this was all so unfair. And yet you took it all, knowing that this was exactly what you asked for.
Paige raised an eyebrow, blinking a couple of times before nodding. “You wanna cum? You got it.”
She returns to your clit for the third time that night, gripping your hips as if you were planning on going anywhere but here, as if you were capable of not being consumed by her as she sucked. If eating pussy was an award winning sport, it would be yet another award on Paige’s already impressive roster. If there was one thing she loved doing more with her mouth than talking, it was making her girl feel good.
If you weren’t so focused on the way she was making you feel, you would maybe be a little more embarrassed about the noises you were making, how the pleas of “more” and “harder” emitted from you so easily. Paige had that effect on you, especially tonight when she was pulling out all the stops.
You nearly cried with relief when your breath quickened and muscles tightened and Paige didn’t fucking move, continuing to circle your clit with her finger while lapping you up like she was parched. Finally, waves crashed over you as you came with a shout of her name and a gush of fluid being deposited straight into her mouth, which she accepted happily. You rode out the feeling, Paige assisting with her reassurance. “Lemme hear you baby, fuck.” She moaned into you, a move that was teetering into the overstimulating category.
Little did you know that was just a taste of what was to come.
Taking time to lick up all the remaining cum from your pussy, she kissed up your body, finding herself at your awaiting lips once more. You sigh as you taste yourself, melting into the warmth of your girlfriend who just rocked your world. Based on the way she showed up to your apartment, you were certainly expecting more fire from her, but you were glad to end the night with a pleasant ache between your thighs.
You grin into the kiss, reaching up her shirt in order to get more contact only for her hands to grab your wrists, throwing them next to your head against the pillows before you could even process what she was doing. You take the time to look at her, really look at her, and see that the same tone is in her eyes, and that her fire hasn’t been contained. In fact, she looks ready to pounce. “I know you can give me another, right baby?”
Multiple orgasms in one night were not an anomaly for you and Paige, but typically there was time in between - the additional sessions usually happened after an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, or during a shower. You gulped, only able to nod as Paige trailed her hand back down to your spent pussy, cupping it before slipping a finger inside.
It was not lost on Paige the way your eyes squeezed shut at the intrusion, pain mixing with pleasure as she began moving. “Can’t take it baby?” She asked like it was a challenge. She was unsurprised when you shook your head no, determined to accept everything she was giving you. “That’s what I thought. Such a slut for me. Good fucking girl.”
A proud smile graced her face as she took note of the sopping sound of your pussy as she fucked you, the way your mouth couldn’t hold back moans and pleas for more, and it hit you: she was scoring, making up for her mistakes from yesterday through you. It only made the heat on your core worse, blurring your vision until everything felt hazy.
You could tell she was loving this shit, eating up how you were reacting to her. One hand trailed up, reaching for your tit and massaging it roughly. “Gonna let me do what I want to you, isn’t that right baby?”
You moaned as she spoke, relishing in the way that she was fully getting comfortable dominating you like this, fucking you like a dirty whore instead of her beloved girlfriend. She stretched you out so good, leaving no room for anything except her.
You felt the build up again, static rising in your body as you attempted to focus on your breathing. This effort would prove to be futile, as Paige knew you all too well. Her movements intensified, her breath growing heavy against your ear as she growled, “Who’s making you feel this good?”
You all but sob, “Y-you, P, fuck.”
She smiles, loving the way you sound as your pussy clenches around her with a fucking grip that anyone would die for. She was so fucking lucky. “Wanna feel this pussy cum around me, c’mon.”
You didn’t need to be told twice, your body shuddering as you released once again hitting your high like a drug as your back arched into her touch.Your cunt pulsed around Paige, causing a guttural moan to erupt from her lips as you rained down on her fingers.
She stared in wonder as she removed them once the majority of your high subsided, noting how they glistened under your lights. “Can do this all night. Pussy so fucking good.”
As much as you attempted to enjoy the remnants of your orgasm, the statement brought a wave of panic through you as you processed that you may not be done just yet. “Two’s enough, P,” you said, nuzzling your face in her neck.
Big mistake.
She jolted her head up, look at you intently. “What’s your color, baby?”
You paused, recognizing your mistake and the ache between your thighs. But there is nothing more that you wanted than to fulfill your promise to Paige, and you couldn’t deny the way heat rose to your face when you saw just how fine Paige looked when she was this focused on you. “Green.”
Paige grinned. “Then shut the fuck up.”
She flipped the two of you, hoisting you so her muscular thigh was pressed just at the right angle to give your spent clit undivided attention. A loud slap went to your ass, jolting you forward slightly and providing the first dose of stimulation as you rode her thigh in the process. “Paige, baby.”
She sat up quickly, pushing your body against hers as she helped you ride. She nibbled at your ear, whispering a series of sweet nothings as her firm grip on your ass never faltered.
“Ride me just like that.”
“I know you can go faster than that, c’mon.”
“Moaning for me like a fucking slut.”
Your memory beyond this point was a little faulty, coming and going in bursts. One second, you knew you were riding Paige like a mechanical bull, putting all of your (very little) remaining energy into giving her the best show you could, knowing that this is what she deserved. After a flash of white, moans and voices muffled, you awoke still sat on top of Paige. She rubbed your back, shushing you and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
“You’re done, baby, it’s okay. Did so so good for me, my perfect girl.”
—————
“Didn’t go too hard on you, right?”
You turned to face Paige, who was laying next to you in your bed. The past forty five minutes had been devoted strictly to aftercare, with Paige refusing to let you lift a finger. She helped you take yet another shower, lathering your body for you and kissing your shoulders as she hugged you from behind. She stripped and replaced your sheets, running yet another load. And now the two of you laid there, glasses of water nearby, and Paige was looking at you with both curiosity and fear.
You grabbed her hand from the arm that was currently wrapped around your shoulder. “I would have told you baby, trust me.” You offered her hand a kiss, sparking a smile on the blonde’s lips. “Do you feel any better?”
She nodded, leaning her forehead against yours. “Just needed to clear my head. The pressure just- it’s a lot sometimes.” You nodded, understanding how overwhelmed she got with the eyes on her at all times. A shy blush reached her cheeks as she debated speaking again, before deciding in favor. “I also thought tonight was hot. Like, really hot.”
You laughed, her quickly following. Sure, you couldn’t fix all of Paige’s problems with sex. But it certainly couldn’t hurt to try.
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