L Lawliet NSFT HC

Arthur Pendragon - The Seven Deadly Sins: Four Knights of the Apocalypse - Episode 24

CAUGHT ON FILM #2! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...more nsfw twt links of the jjk men

INFO...jjk men x fem!bodied reader, women in the videos may be white skinned and light skinned but these videos are only to show how’d they fuck you, choking, cow girl, doggy, missionary, rough sex, oral (m & f receiving), spit, handjobs, fingering, overstim, bondage, praise, degradation, squirting, creampie, breeding, anal, sex toys

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

TOJI

pounding your pussy in the backseat of the car

choking you and spitting in your mouth while he fucks you from behind

teasing your pussy with the tip of his cock

making you squirt all over his dick while he cums in your pussy

he loves seeing your mascara run down your face

toji doesn’t like when you use condoms, you feel too good

GOJO

gojo watching in the mirror as you bounce on his cock

pulling your panties to the side and eating your pussy

using his fleshlight on him

you look so cute in your nightgown he just had to fuck you in it

he loves the way your ass bounces back on him

gojo getting needy and thrusting up into your hand

NANAMI

fucking you before the two of you go out on your date

pushing you up against the shower door and fucking you after a long day

cockwarming him in public but can’t help getting needy and moving your hips against his

eating your pussy until you cum and make a mess

choking you and making you rub yourself through your panties while he praises and reassures you

fingering you till you squirm

GETO

jerking him off while he fingers you

waking you up in the middle of the night cause he’s so needy

licking you through your panties

the two of you get a little distracted while watching a movie

geto thought it would be fun to try anal

sloppy head is the best head

SUKUNA

treating you like a whore while fucking your face

using your pussy for his own pleasure

using your tits to jerk himself off

fucking you rough against the couch after a bad day

breeding your cute little hole

he loves using toys on both of your holes until you’re shaking

HIGURUMA

grinding your ass against his hard cock, teasing him

guiding you up and down his cock

deciding to tie you up and fuck you from behind

holding you close to him while he whispers the nasty things he wants to do as he licks and sucks at your sensitive spots

playing with your pussy for his own enjoyment

spanking you for being a brat

CHOSO

rubbing your clothed pussy over his dick before he gets too needy and fucks you

he can’t help eating your pussy even after you’ve cum already

sitting on his face while he’s distracted on his phone

making out naked and getting touchy

breeding your pussy on your cute picnic date

making him cum through his underwear

tag list (comment to be added):

@kodzukein @inayasahin @mxchi-mxxn @vlsquuu @love-4-keum @thirtykiwis @viisgrave @bellefaerie @manifestis @oliviaissocool1 @prettyfacedream @bsi25 @zayn-210 @charbunxxi @nahoye @mistyheart @supernatrualqueen @lem-hhn @mimibesticon @fateisnotafactor @iwanttoberich420 @angelofthorr @honestlywtfisgoingon @araities @vampzity @spicynoodles23 @pinkbunnysblog @nn-hh192 @chrishak @keiva1000 @darkstarlight82 @brownbtch @70cosmo07 @sadmonke @notfancyrebelpaper @aydene

fwb: nanami kento (18+)

nanami kento doesn't know how to be just "friend's with benefits".

tags: (fem aligned user) (uses y/n) (jealousy) (not proofread also sorry this is my first real smut ive posted on tumblr) (uses the L word (gasp!))

(art for header found on pinterest)

•—————————————————————————•

fwb!nanami didn't know how to approach you, his friend and colleague, about being friend's with benefits. he wasn' the kind of man to just have sex with someone. he didn't fuck- he made love. it wasn't until gojo dug his nose in, asking you if you'd ever want a fwb within earshot of nanami- you saying you wouldn't be opposed- that made him even think to ask.

fwb!nanami who brought a bouquet of roses to your apartment the first time he came over to "netflix and chill," stumbling over his words and acting like an utter fool in front of you. it was cute, and you eased him into the situation as naturally and slowly as your body would allow. his arm was awkwardly placed on your shoulder as you nuzzled up against him on the couch, and he seemed all too focused on the movie that was playing.

"kento, do you just wanna watch the movie and try again another day?" your soft voice cooed, and it made him fall apart, the sweat on the back of his neck rolling down his back. oh god, you were so pretty. he knew he wasn't doing anything right, and yet you still looked up at him so affectionately. this isn't what friends with benefits act like, was it?

"n-no, i'm just.. i've never done anything like this before." he swallowed whatever moisture had stayed in his dry mouth, forcing himself to meet your eyes, only to meet an understanding gaze that tore down all of his walls.

"it's okay, we can go slow."

fwb!nanami who's so gentle with you during your first time together. even though you wanted your brains fucked out, his gentle touch and praise that spilled from his lips as you sunk onto his length was equally satisfying.

"you're so warm n tight, y/n.. i can't, 's too much. you feel so good," nanami groaned, his hands kneading your hips as your lips kissed along his neck, licking soothing stripes along his sensitive skin to ease him through it.

he wasn't a virgin, but still.. this. this was new. fucking someone just to fuck them. to fuck you, his gorgeous friend who had always behaved so normally towards him. would things stay normal between you two? he was already overthinking. how did friends with benefits just stay friends when all he could think about was how pretty your face twisted in pleasure, how soft your skin felt-

"kento," the sound of your sighed moan snapped him into reality, and he whimpered in his low, gentle voice, his head falling back against the couch as you rolled your hips against him. that's right- all he needed to think about right now was how good you felt milking his cock, not how your friendship was gonna turn out tomorrow.

"oh, fuck, y/n."

fwb!nanami who didn't wanna leave you that night when you fell asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest. carefully, he carried you to bed, tucking you in while stroking his fingers through your hair.

"stay," your sleepy, mumbly voice shot an arrow through his chest just as he was trying to quietly leave your bedroom.

yes, of course he'd stay. you'd taken such good care of him, making sure he was comfortable while taking every last drop of cum he had to offer. he didn't realize how pent up he was until he unloaded into you the first time. but once your lips wrapped around him maybe an hour later, he grew more needy, thrusting his dick down your throat as he gently massaged the nape of your neck.

hesitantly he snuggled into bed with you, your sleeping form molding perfectly against his, your face subconsciously nuzzling into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him close. were friends with benefits supposed to be this intmate? should his heart be racing like this?

but as the events of the day weighed heavier on him, he couldn't bear it, trying to find a way to fall asleep. with your steady breaths and warmth as you cuddled him it wasn't hard to get drowsy, but his thoughts consumed him. maybe this was a mistake- him and his bleeding heart.

fwb!nanami who made you breakfast the next morning. and everytime after that. he always brought you an offering like roses or flowers when he'd come over, and treat you like a queen each morning, kissing along your body to wake you up, tasting you before you'd get a taste of his cooking.

it was cathartic for him. no strings attached, just pleasure. it took him a while to understand the point in it, perhaps less stress?

though his heart still raced everytime you sat with him at work or hung out with him- not calling it a date.

"ken, you shouldn't have. we're just grabbing coffee," you whined with your face flushed red. again, this princely man bought your coffee for you and pulled out your chair as you sat at the cafe.

"i wanted to," he would say everytime, shaking his head. and he said the same when he insisted on walking you home from work, fucking you when you got home from work, massaging your muscles from the stress of work, oh lord this man was head over heels-

fwb!nanami who didn't realize he had fallen in love with you until someone at the grocery store asked for your number.

how could someone walk up to you, standing so pretty next to the shopping cart both you and him were putting groceries in, and ask if you were single? as if nanami wasn't standing right there, pushing your shopping cart, guiding you out of the traffic of other shoppers with his hand on the small of your back?

"oh, thank you, but i'm not interested in dating right now." was your response, making nanami's neck tighten. what does that mean? what were you two doing there?

you weren't dating, no. the point is that you were friends with benefits. no strings attached. just fucking, just pleasing each other. this grocery trip was as friends, the breakfasts together were as friends, the sex was as friends-

"ken," again, your voice was like the smooth, untouchable hand pulling him out of a bush full of thorns and pulling him into your softness. "did we get garlic already?"

"mhm," was the only sound to escape his throat. to hell if you were dating or not- he needed you, perhaps even more than you needed him. or at least more than you realized you needed him.

fwb!nanami who pounded you hard into the mattress that night. he was a gentle lover for the most part, always checking in on you, whispering your praises, moaning into your ear as he finished in you.

not tonight. he needed to let out that pent out rage, towards the person who asked you out of course- not you.

"who's this pretty pussy belong to, hmm?" he chuckled as he gripped your hair tighter, pressing your face down into your pillow harder. His free hand was holding your hips with a bruising grip, keeping your ass up as he fucked you into another orgasm.

"k-ken, aagh," you mewled, your hands balling into fists as you held the sheets tighter. "'m yours kento, f-fuck.."

he smiled- it was dizzying, your voice being so broken and yet so his. "that's it beautiful. all mine."

by the time he was satisfied he was dripping sweat, his chest against your back as his breath came out in ragged pants.

of course, ever the gentleman, he slowly slid his cock out from you, watching with possessiveness and satisfaction as his cum dribbled down your folds, and then your bruised thighs. a part of him felt bad for being so rough, but then watching your legs tremble and your pussy pulse around nothing made him feel much less guilty.

"lemme take care of you, pretty," he murmured, helping you stand before carrying you to the bathroom. he was so sweet, sitting down on the bench in the shower, having you on his lap facing him as he washed the sweat and mess off your body with his large yet gentle hands.

you were drowsy from the mix of getting fucked stupid and the heat of the shower, and nanami's soapy hands kneading at your flesh was only making you feel more at ease. you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, arms weakly wrapping around him.

"love you, ken," you murmured into his neck, eyes fluttering to try and stay open.

nanami froze, feeling an intense rush of heat rise to his face from ear to ear. he was sure that he would be the one to say it first. with how he worshipped you, he was positive that the words would leave his tongue first.

but alas there you were, softly kissing his collarbone as you fought to stay awake. his heart swelled, more than his cock as it twitched. god, he could fuck you again just for saying that. but more than that he wanted so desperately to kiss you.

"i love you too, y/n," he hummed, tilting your head up to meet your content smile, pressing his lips to yours, lovingly, as if he had never kissed you before.

Choso who has a raging mommy kink. Nestled between your thighs as you grab a hold of his raven locks, arching your back as he laps at your pretty cunt. Large hands holding onto your thighs, sure enough leaving dark purple marks to match with the ones on your chest from earlier. You throw your head back in pleasure as he meticulously swipes his tongue over your pulsating clit. 

“Am I doing a good job, Mommy~?”  Choso purrs out drunk off the taste of your pussy.

Not being able to say anything you nod your head and tug on his hair to encourage him further. Diving back into your sweetness, he turns into a moaning mess, grinding his hips into the bed for just an ounce of friction against his hard erection. Both of you reaching your high in unison, he drinks up all your essence, never wasting a drop. 

“Such a good boy Cho.”  you coo as you brush loose strands of his hair out of his face. 

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

bertholdt x fem!reader

modern au, college au, established relationship, slight music nerd bertholdt, bertholdt is above 6’4, reiner ships you and bert so hard (´◡`)

wc - 4.0k

warnings - kissing, overthinking, insecurities abt relationship, kinda bad 😭

a/n - wrote this on a whim when i was on my work break so it’s not the best 🙁 unedited and kinda messy

bertholdt loves it when it's just you two.

having his head cuddled between your plush thighs as you play with his brunette shag you hoped he never cut - watching the princess diaries in a comfortable silence you two shared so often that came with a growing mutual understanding of your budding relationship. he kisses the side of your plush thigh once in awhile when you run your hands over the side of his head in that way you always do when youre positioned like this on nights like these - when reiner is gone slaving away at practice right before the big game and it's just you two showering each other with affection.

that's until reiner comes back to his shared apartment with his best friend of over 5 years.

"reiner!" bertholdt slightly yelled like it was bloody murder. bertholdt quickly stood up, getting his abnormally big head (and big body) away from your thighs trying to act like nothing was happening - which was exactly happening. bertholdt accidentally pulled you off the couch as he frantically got up, a thud coming under you and a sympathetic look coming from bertholdt. sure - bertholdt loves showering you with his affection, but he'll never actually parade it in front of others, including the person who has seen him naked several times.

"what are you doing here?" he stupidly asked like him and reiner haven’t been living together for a whole year now.

"oh you know - coming back to my lovely home after a long day at practice.” reiner explains as he drops his gym bag and take off his sneakers, not acknowledging his best friends awkwardness to make him and you feel better.

it’s been a routine for the past couple of months. he’ll come home, see you and bertholdt cuddling, lost in your own world, and bertholdt being abruptly deported from his own little world with you whenever reiner appears into the living room.

reiner finds it slightly entertaining, not just how embarrassed bertholdt gets but the way bertholdt can easily be this close to you; you’ve created your own world with each other, speaking a language only you and bertholdt can understand. sure bertholdt’s awkward tendencies get in the way of him showing his love for you but reiner can see the way you love each other when he sees you two giggle at the plural form of ball.

and when you scold him for eating peanuts ever since he found out he was allergic to them because during your guys first date, they brought out a bowl of peanuts as an appetizer and apparently peanuts aren’t supposed to hurt your mouth like that (yet he still eats them).

and when he makes CDs for you filled with the static noise he calls music reiner and annie can’t stand yet you somehow like it.

and when you made reiner secretly steal all his pants one by one so you could tailor them to fit into his long legs.

and when bertholdt loves you to the point where he creates and you love him to the point where you can invent.

and when bertholdt gets too lost in his head, and reiner or annie never know what to do, but somehow you’re the only who could find him, and when bertholdt makes sure you don’t ever get lost, ever.

and when reiner comes home, after a long day at football practice, and he catches a quick glimpse into your shared world with bertholdt, speaking your own language, and he sees how he becomes you and you become him in the way you two hold each other. reiner likes this bertholdt, don’t get him wrong, he also likes awkward bertholdt a lot as well but he knows bertholdt is a lot more than an awkward sweaty lanky mess. he’s just happy that bertholdt has someone to be himself around - even his awkward self. and reiner would totally try pushing bertholdt to be more comfortable with holding you in front of others but right now, he smells like wet grass and total ass and he can’t feel his legs; trying to push bertholdt out of his box will have to wait.

apart, scratch that, a good chunk of you finds it insulting. like him being your boy and you being his girl is hell on earth. you know bertholdt loves you. of course he does! you’re his own prayer. but sometimes - he gets up a little too fast whenever reiner comes home, and it makes you do the unthinkable; overthink.

which is exactly what you’re doing right now as bertholdt helps you up the floor and you could feel his once dry palm, which he used to play with the side of your thighs as you played with his hair, now moist do to his nervousness. you sighed under your breath and grabbed your jacket and bag from the front door.

“alright, gonna take this as my sign to leave.” you said avoiding eye contact with bertholdt and reiner while zipping up your jacket.

bertholdt knows you’re annoyed. and he knows you’ll tell him that it’s fine.

“good luck tomorrow reiner!” you yelled as you were making your way out the door.

“wait!” bertholdt ran after you, swiftly putting on his house slippers, “let me walk you out!” bertholdt grabbed the top of the door frame preventing it from slamming, ducked his tall body under the door frame, and gently closed the door making sure he wouldn’t bother reiner.

you waited for him as he jogged a short distance to catch up to you.

“hey,” he greeted you like you weren’t hanging out the whole day.

you know you should say hi back, you always do, but you know what he always does? he always pushes you away when reiner comes home. and it’s not his fault for being so shy, but still, can’t a girl hold her boyfriend in peace?

“are you mad?” bertholdt asked with the worried look on his face he always seemed to have.

“no.” you briskly told him, keeping your eyes forward.

bertholdt sighs as he pushes the button for the elevator to go down. your arms are crossed as you wait for one of the elevators to be available. usually you and bertholdt would talk about everything and nothing - why he hates his philosophy professor, king krule possibly coming to paradis, if you should get those jeans from jaded london, giving him a fake palm reading just to touch his hands, looking at the view from the window in the elevator room and people-watching into the apartment complex across the street - but right now, it’s silent, and not the comfortable kind you two always have but the “please don’t be mad” kind.

“are you sure you’re not mad?” he asks, a little exasperated watching you walk into the elevator while you try to avoid eye contact. he walks in after you, distracted from how worried he is about you, the tall oaf ends up hitting his head on the sill of the elevator.

“Ow!” he rubs his forehead with his pointer finger and his thumb trying to numb the pain. he ducks down to the mirror of the elevator to check for any bleeding and catches you trying not to laugh your ass off at your oaf of a boyfriend. you have the prettiest smile, he swears. he tries to suppress his own smile as he hears you fail and you erupt into snorts and giggles.

“do I have to hurt myself in order for you to acknowledge me?” he jokingly asks.

“yes.” you respond as you still have a grin on your face from your fit of laughter not too long ago. bertholdt presses the button to go down to the garage, giving you a quick kiss on the cheek to reassure you about whatever you’re upset about.

bertholdt walks you to your car, still a little cautious around you.

“what’s on your mind? i know something’s wrong.” bertholdt steps in front of you, preventing you from going any further to your car. bertholdt isn’t letting you go to sleep tonight feeling like this.

“it’s nothing really.” and it really is nothing, to you at least but not to bertholdt.

“it’s something.” bertholdt quickly retorts gently bringing his hand to yours.

you’re a little emotional, you’ve always been.

“can you just hold me? there’s no one around.” you reassure him. bertholdt’s heart stings at your act of reassuring him. bertholdt looks around for a moment and hugs your body to his in the empty parking garage, feeling your specific type of inviting warmth to his chest and having the smell of your vanilla coconut leave in conditioner scent hug his nose. he’s leaning against your car as you lean into him.

“are you mad because i pull away from you whenever reiner comes home?” he gently asks as he gave you a kiss on your head.

“im not mad, just..”

bertholdt gives you all the time to continue.

“just..are you embarrassed of being in a relationship with me or something?” you look up at him, slightly teary eyed, hoping he wouldn’t notice. but he does; because he wants to make sure you’ll never get lost.

“no! of course im not!” he furrows his eyebrows at you. you stare up at him looking if he’s telling the truth. and you know he is but overthinking gets the best of you sometimes. “you should be the one embarrassed to be in a relationship with me!” bertholdt jokes to make you feel better.

you smile as you hug him tighter, “never.”

“it’s just sometimes i feel like you are embarrassed of me.” you push the side of your face into his chest, avoiding eye contact once again.

“I’m not.” and he isn’t. bertholdt looks down at you with sympathy in his eyes, rubbing and kneading your back. he knows you deserve someone who can hold you whenever they please.

“you know how shy I get.” bertholdt reassures you that it’s his problem, not yours.

“i know.” you tell him. “i don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I just want you to hold me, just right now.”

“trust me, holding you doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

bertholdt holds you in his strong arms like you’re a dove. every touch from him is carefully placed. you pout your lips signaling for a small kiss. as soon as he reaches down to give you a quick kiss, the tip of his ears red from his meekness, here comes porco galliard and his loud ass car beeping twice at you two. your eyes crinkle at his cars bright ass headlights and bertholdt lets you go from his grasp, not wanting porco to see the monstrous act of holding his girlfriend.

“give this to reiner for me!” the boy named after a pig yelled through his rolled down passenger window and threw out reiner’s jockstrap, bertholdt catching it as he let out a sigh of dissent. porco irresponsibly and annoyingingly, may I add, sped out of the garage, bertholdt yelling at him to slow down.

your eyebrows furrowed in distress when your giant of a boyfriend let you go. you watch as he slightly jogs after the speeding car and yells at the pig man driving it to slow down. bertholdt walks towards you, the dissatisfied look in your eyes wishing he kissed you a few moments earlier. bertholdt gives you a sympathetic smile as he held reiner’s jockstrap in between his fingers.

“bye,” you curtly smile back and tried as fast as you could to get into your car as you ignored your boyfriends goodbyes.

bertholdt watched your car drive out of the parking garage, a disappointed groan coming from his body.

the olive skinned boy closes his apartment door with a sigh. it pains him to know that there’s apart of you, that may grow into a chunk, that thinks he’s ashamed of you. and you know he isn’t, but he knows how you overthink. hell, he can’t blame you. if he was in your position, he would think the same thing too.

but bertholdt is shy - painfully shy, almost like he’s cursed to be this way forever, and it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you the way he does behind closed doors in front of others. if bertholdt could, he’d have you attached to the hip.

bertholdt is just…how you say - modest.

one touch, and he knows he’s gone.

it took him at least three months into the relationship for him to even comfortably hold you, and took him another three for it to become a regular thing. every touch from your fingertips is a modified blow, and bertholdt is made of glass. the first time you molded your hands to the side of his face, he swore he shattered into a thousand pieces. and you put him back all together. you touch him like a prayer, a prayer only you two understand. the first time you touched bertholdt, when you held his face, or when he laid his head in between your thighs, or when his senses are overloaded with you - bertholdt feels his heart take root in his body, discovering something he doesn’t even have a name for.

so it’s not that bertholdt is embarrassed, he just craves even the slightest brush of your fingertips against his skin too much.

“You forgot your jockstrap.” bertholdt throws it to a now freshly showered reiner, who is currently eating his second bowl of lucky charms right now.

“thanks.” states a tired reiner.

reiner put his now empty bowl in the sink while bertholdt got ready for bed.

“goodnight bertholdt.” reiner slaps bertholdt’s flat ass.

“goodnight reiner.” bertholdt does the same to reiner.

reiner yawns and before closing his bedroom door, he peeks his head out, and with tired eyes and a tired voice, he tells his best friend since middle school,

“if you could slap my ass every night, you can hold your girl without being a scaredy cat about it by the way.”

bertholdt looks back at him with a surprised look on his face.

“you should hold her more.” reiner states before he kicks his bedroom close and going to sleep for his game tomorrow.

and bertholdt agrees.

these intrusive thoughts aren’t letting you sleep. the many times bertholdt has pushed your affection away in front of others is making you cringe and the little voice inside your head is not letting you forget them. there’s a devil and angel on your shoulders arguing whether he really loves you or not. you’re being dramatic, no you’re not, yes you are. all you really want is your boyfriend to hold you. is that too much to ask? you wanna cry but you don’t let yourself, bertholdt would let you. you let out a frustrated sigh and grab your phone from your nightstand. a second ago it was only 12 but now it’s almost 3 o clock in the morning. to hell with these intrusive thoughts.

bertholdt <3: Just wanna say goodnight and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. I hope you feel better in the morning, I love you.

sent at 12:25

you roll your eyes at the text message sent by your boyfriend but can’t help but feel a teensy bit better, but not enough to fall asleep. a glass of warm milk and those melatonin chocolates bertholdt bought for you will do. you find your roommate pieck awake at almost 3 in the morning making herself a cup of tea in her jaw titan mug.

“he did it again.” you tell her as you get out the carton of milk and pour it into a glass.

“again!?” pieck suddenly drops her spoon into her cup of tea.

“shhhhh!” annie is in her room doing the right thing you’re supposed to do at 3 in the morning, sleep. annie is also possibly the lightest sleeper you’ve ever come across and even pieck’s soft voice can wake her up.

“did you tell him how you feel?” pieck asked more quietly this time as she blew at her hot tea.

“yeah.” you sighed, waiting for the microwave to be done warming up your glass of milk.

“and?”

“and…he told me that he wasn’t embarrassed of me and he was just shy.” you take your too hot glass of milk out of the microwave and ended up yelling, possibly waking up annie and praying you didn’t.

“shhhh!” pieck pulls her finger to her lips.

you and pieck stay quiet to listen out for annie’s footsteps, and luckily for you two, you heard none.

“well that’s good right? he’s not embarrassed of you!” pieck says, a little more quiet this time, just in case.

“yeah but, your pig of a boyfriend, who’s headlights are way too bright, came to drop off…something reiner forgot and he let go of me like i was burning hot.” you drink all your milk in one go and let the chocolate dissolve in your mouth.

“but you are burning hot.”

“pieck,” you smile at her playful flirting while staying stern to let her know now is not the time to flirt

“why the hell are both of you still awake?” annie opens the door to her room glaring at both of her roommates.

“what the fuck annie!?” you yelped in your normal voice not having to whisper anymore.

annie makes her way to the fridge and grabs a water bottle, gulping it down like she’s been stranded in the Sahara desert for eternity.

“you two suck at whispering.” annie states throwing away the now empty water bottle.

“what could you two be talking about this fine night?” annie sarcastically asks.

“your bestie is a scaredy-cat and can’t hold his girlfriend in front of others.” pieck jokes.

“pieck!”

“bertholdt?”

“who else?” you confirm

“you can’t make him do anything that makes him uncomfortable, bertholdt’s always been like that.” annie defends her best friend as if you were talking bad about him in the first place.

“im not.”

“well it sounds like you are.” annie’s a good friend, you note.

“i never took a dig at bertholdt as a person, you know how I feel about him annie, i just…feel like he’s embarrassed of me.” you look away from her, a little embarrassed yourself.

annie scoffs, sitting down at the kitchen table “he is not embarrassed of you stupid.”

you look at annie a bit relieved.

“he’s just meek, okay? trust me, it gets to me sometimes too. bertholdt always seemed like he would be meek forever..”

“that’s not a bad thing.” you retort

“can you let me finish first?” annie continues “but, and I know you know this, he’s destined to be more than that.”

“he is already more than that.”

“i already know that.” annie says

there’s a bit of an awkward silence and pieck has awkwardly been stirring her tea the whole time.

annie sighs, “he seems to be a lot more confident ever since you’ve been with him and….” annie hates that she’s admitting this, god she prays you and pieck learn to whisper so she won’t ever have to say something like this again to anyone.

“I like that he’s happy with you.”

your eyes brighten up with joy.

“really?” you smile brightly.

“yes really.” annie sighs once again.

“thanks annie.” you give her a hug and she awkwardly pats your back. you make your way back to your bedroom, with a lingering smile on your face. you text bertholdt goodnight and you know he’s gonna worry over the time you sent your text (3:15 in the morning) but at least now your intrusive thoughts have stopped.

annie doesn’t see you as a friend like pieck or the rest of her friends do. you’re just her roommate. but ever since bertholdt has been dating you for the past 9 months, he does things like hum while doing basic tasks, developed an actual sense of fashion, listens to actual good music and her favorite? tells her and reiner that he loves them every night in their groupchat.

“annie?” pieck says quietly, her tea gone cold.

“yes pieck?” annie sighs, once again.

“do you like bertholdt, in the way Y/N likes bertholdt?” pieck is also a good friend.

annie turns to pieck a bit dumbfounded “pieck, I am literally a lesbian, god.”

“oh thank god.” pieck lets out a breath of relief.

annie goes back into her room, her head now hurting.

you have no idea how football works.

you chant offense when it’s defense, defense when it’s offense, don’t even know what it means to be flagged. yet here you are, giving all your undivided attention to the very homoerotic game that is football, trying to ignore your intrusive thoughts about your boyfriend. all you really know is reiner’s jersey number.

the score is currently 14 - 7, halftime is in three minutes, and under these late night stars, the crowd is starting to get rowdy. eren jaeger is sat three seats beside you yelling at jean kierstein about how much of a pussy the opposing team is. jean kierstein’s face is tomato red as he tries his hardest not to punch eren in the face. armin is right in the middle of it wishing he never came. mikasa knows that these losers wouldn’t even survive in a football game but she can. your roommate pieck just wants to support her boyfriend, and bertholdt and your other roommate annie are just supporting their best friend.

you don’t understand the hype for college football games. the aftermath was always so depressing. men fighting over two groups of other men cuddling each other, underage college students getting alcohol poisoning, people you’ve seen post environmental activism infographics on their instagram stories littering like it’s nothing.

you’ve seen the worst minds of your generation at a college football game.

bertholdt knows you have no idea what’s going on. he’s talking to annie about the game, while also trying to subtly explain to you how it works and annie has no idea why bertholdt is explaining the game to her. If bertholdt keeps this up, annie will probably have to beat his ass.

“the titans just got flagged? wow I wonder what they got penalized for.”

“yeah our defense, who stop the other team from scoring, have been doing really well this season!”

“our offense, who have the ball currently, have been kinda sloppy this quarter, don’t you think?”

Bertholdt is lucky halftime is about to start.

“I’m gonna go get something to eat.” annie states, annoyed by bertholdt.

“get me a korean corn dog please!” you yell after her. she flips you off as she walks away, which means yes, you will get your korean corn dog.

that silence between you and bertholdt appears from last night again, the “please don’t be mad” kind, and you don’t like it. you can feel bertholdt’s doe eyes on you and you know he’s worried about you. he let you go home feeling like an embarrassment to him and he has so much to make up for.

you two don’t really get into the typical fights, sure some misunderstandings, but nothing like this before. you’re overreacting, you know you are. but you can’t help but feel so insecure.

“you should stop explaining how football works to Annie before she beats you up.” you tell your oaf of a boyfriend in a way to let him know him that you don’t want it to be like this any longer.

“if she beat me up, would it make you happy?” bertholdt jokingly asked, a little relieved.

“very.” you gave bertholdt a toothy grin. you give him the most brisk kiss on the cheek, you don’t even think your lips touched him.

“thank you.” you tell him because you know the only reason why he even is explaining football to annie, who probably understands it way more than you and bertholdt, is because he thinks you need space from the passive aggressive predicament you got into last night. (which is far from what you need)

you’re eyes are guided back to the big jumbotron in the center of the field, watching the two dogs who represent the two teams race against each other. bertholdt keeps his eyes on you and observes the way your face lights up when you see the brown labrador dressed as an armored titan race against a black great dane dressed as the colossal.

“bertholdt that black dog resembles you so much!” you tell him in the nicest way possible as you point at the screen. ymir bursts into the most disrespectful laughter possible, her and her girlfriend historia sitting above you and bertholdt.

“ymir stop being mean!” historia scolds.

bertholdt doesn’t care though, he does look like a dog to a certain extent, and he doesn’t care - as long as he can see you smile. he disregards ymir’s snorts, he ignores eren and jean’s arguing, he hasn’t noticed that annie’s been gone for longer than usual, he forgets what breed the dogs were and which one won, the cheering in the stadium has suddenly stopped - all he knows at this moment is you. here you are, his girl, the biggest smile on your face accentuating your cheekbones with your eyes crinkling in the corner. he swears you have the prettiest smile. it makes his brain go fuzzy, makes him forget everything around him -

your intrusive thoughts have gotten the very best of you, all of last night and up to today. there’s that voice in your head who keeps on telling you that you’re not worthy of being shown off, that being with someone like you is an embarrassment - how dare anyone love you? but right now - bertholdt feels so honored in this current moment sitting this close to you and having the privilege to see you smile. he looks like an idiot probably as he admires you from his seat that his tall body can barely fit in. but he doesn’t care - all his inhibitions have left and you’ve replaced them.

reiner can’t wait until this game is over with. he’s sat on the metal moist bench with his helmet off squeezing his water bottle into his mouth as his bandages are being renewed below him by the teams nurse. the black game paint he painted across his face has became grey and smudged and his hair is soaked from how much he’s been sweating. there’s about three minutes of halftime left and he’s spending those three minutes watching the Jumbotron across him.

“pucker your lips and get ready for the kiss cam titans!” came a booming voice from the intercom.

the first couple weren’t even a couple and the girl ended up moving away when the guy motioned a kiss towards her.

the second couple gave each other a meek kiss and the crowd boo’d at their lousy excuse of a kiss.

the third couple was a girl in the middle of eating a korean corn dog and the giraffe of a man totally entranced by her cheese pull.

reiner’s eyes widen as he sets his eye on the dork of a couple who were cuddling on his couch last night.

bertholdt is looking at you like you’re the only person in this whole stupidly funded football stadium. you have a bit of mustard on the corner of your lips and your inhaling the cool night air to cool down the burning piece of fried cheese in your mouth. you look to bertholdt and stick your tongue out and point at it with sad eyes.

“I burnt my tongue,” you said with your tongue still sticking out.

“you’re on kiss cam you idiots!” ymir smiled at the both of you and playfully pushed bertholdt’s towards you.

bertholdt doesn’t even know he’s on kiss cam. he barely felt ymir push him over to you. he sees you look over to the jumbotron and grow embarrassed as you use your hand to cover your face. out of nowhere, you’re hit with the massive weight that is the whole crowd’s judgement. somehow, you’re the one filled with inhibitions and bertholdt isn’t.

“bertholdt…” you whisper to him, “we’re on kiss cam!” you say this like it’s the worse thing in the world.

all bertholdt hears is kiss and that’s what he does - in front of thousands of people, all of paradis’ college towns watching on their TVs, in front of eren jaeger and jean kierschstein who’ve stopped arguing due to how surprised they are, in front of armin arlert who’s just glad they’ve stopped arguing, in front of mikasa ackerman who has never felt so much second hand embarrassment in her life just from you eating your corn dog, in front of pieck finger who’s smiling so big because you were just telling her last night how you felt bertholdt was embarrassed of you, in front of annie leonhardt who can’t help but roll her eyes at you two, in front of ymir who’s cheering bertholdt on, and in front of reiner braun, who’s annoying the nurse who’s bandaging his calves from his constant movement as he stands up and cheers for his best friend since middle school.

bertholdt is carefully cradling your face in both of his hands, like you’re his own personal prayer, his own personal heaven, his own angel; they’re large and warm up your cool face and his fingers reach to your scalp. you didn’t expect this from him, you even thought he would just walk away pretending to not even know who you are (and if he did that, you would give him something to be embarrassed about). but here he is, his lips on your lips, kissing you like this is what mouths are for. finding warmth in his mouth, you relax into his lips and hold his hands closer to your face.

neither you or bertholdt can hear the crowd cheering you guys on as bertholdt’s lips put you into some sort of trance just like how your smile induced his. it is every kiss bertholdt owes you every time he pulled away in front of others. it is the song baby by donnie and joe emerson that is the first track on the CD bertholdt gifted you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. it is the last track - ‘baby’ by ariel pink. it is bertholdt’s hands cradling your face up to reach his lips and your hands on his, your mouth becoming his mouth, it is you who breaks into shards and it will be him who will put you back together.

once you both pull away due to the ear-paining air horn signifying that halftime is over, the kiss cam screening had already been over with. bertholdt’s olive skin heats up, his lips covered in your gloss and your lips a bit swollen.

you look up at to him with bright but bashful eyes, and you smile.

and he swears you have the prettiest smile.

Omg all the overstim in your sylus and raf works 😫🤤 makes me wonder if you have headcannons about how the other boys would be 🫣

can I make you lose your mind? (caleb, rafayel, sylus, xavier, zayne)

♱⋅── nearly 7k of the lads boys just losing their minds (and their control) when it comes to you. art by @/osk_purinnumee on x

♱⋅── WARNINGS: mdni, overstimulation, oral, pussy drunk boys, daddy kink (caleb), bicep choking (caleb), "just the tip" (sylus), size kink (sylus), cunnilingus (xavier), Lemurian heat (rafayel), orgasm denial (rafayel), breeding kink (rafayel), slight exhibisionism (zayne)

Caleb ♱⋅ ── the bully

How could Caleb deny you? 

How could he when you come to him crying big crocodile tears, sobbing how no matter what you do you can’t seem to cum, how you think you must be broken, how no one would ever want such a hard-to-please woman in their bed. 

As if he hasn’t spent years watching you, waiting for you, knowing damn well that the problem isn’t you.

So of course Caleb, being such a kind and thoughtful gege, has to prove you wrong, right?

He does. Over. And over. And over again. That is, until you’re crying in overstimulation, writhing away from his punishing thrusts, clawing against the sheets as you try to run from the pleasure-turned-pain.

Or, tried to.

“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. Where do you think you’re going?”

You’re running? No, no you can’t run away, not when he’s already spent his entire fucking life chasing you. 

Caleb’s voice is teasing, raspy and sweet, but there’s nothing playful about the way his Evol surges to life with a mere crook of his finger, dragging you back along the mattress and pinning you down as he takes his sweet time crawling back to you. 

Trapped, your breath hitches as you feel the weight of him settle over you, his intimidating frame caging you in, tracing featherlight kisses along your spine in such a stark contrast to how ruthlessly he was fucking you earlier. His hands roam, slow and deliberate, kneading your ass as he repositions himself behind you.

"If I let you go," he murmurs, "you promise not to run?"

Run? Why did you even want to run? You can’t remember now, not as you viciously nodding your head as much as is allowed under the control of his Evol, already arching your back into his touch as Caleb nips and marks your sticky inner thighs. 

“Good girl.” The pressure disappears. 

Immediately, Caleb replaces it, his entire body pressing you down before you can so much as take a proper breath. His arm snakes around your throat, flexing just enough to remind you who’s in control, the bulging, thick mass of his bicep choking you deliciously when you attempt to squirm or beg.

He’s got you in a headlock, the rest of his corded body pressing down atop you until your chest is squished to the mattress, ass pressed against Caleb’s pelvis, the combined pressure enough for you to be seeing stars. A drooling, overstimulated mess.

It doesn’t help that he’s practically panting like a dog in your ear, whining as he already begins thrusting himself back into your cunt, delirious moans of your name and filthy praises cooed right into your ear, words barely distinguishable with how hard he’s breathing. 

“Aww p-poor thing.” Caleb pants, voice wrecked, whiny with need as he grinds himself against you. His pace is already brutal, his thrusts sharp and unforgiving, every desperate snap of his hips forcing a cry from your throat as his grip tightens, choking you deliciously every time you so much as try to squirm.“Can you be good for me? Be my sweet little girl and cum for daddy.”

It shouldn’t be hot, Caleb, your gege, calling himself daddy, it shouldn’t have you sobbing out an unintelligible plea as another orgasm builds, seizing up your body in tight, aching waves. And yet here you are, loosing your fucking mind at it.

“Please,” you gasp, voice muffled as you sink your teeth into his bicep, embarrassed by the desperate sound of your own voice. “Please, daddy.”

For the first time in thirty minutes, you feel Caleb stop. 

He’s frozen entirely, dick hot and throbbing with need within you, each shaky breath hitting your ear as he pressed down closer, flattening, suffocating you into the mattress as you feel the growl come from his throat. You can hear the way his lips curl into a grin. 

“You wanna say that again, princess?”

Whining, you try and arch your back further, wiggling your hips up as you try and bait Caleb into continuing, into giving you that release that was only just out of reach. But he wasn’t having any of that bratty attitude tonight. 

“Behave.” Caleb’s arm tightens, and your vision swims. ”I asked you a question. You need daddy to—ah shit you tightened, dirty girl— fuck you nice and full, hmm? Fuck you stupid?” 

A fresh wave of humiliation burns down your spine, but it doesn't matter. You’ll say whatever he wants if it means he moves, if it means he chokes you more, if it means he finally gives you what you need one more time. 

“Yes, m’close, please daddy! Please—ah—let me cum one more time.” 

Caleb just snaps.

His grip tightens instinctively. Not enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it, enough to make your breath stutter, your body jolt like the sweet little thing you are under his grasp. His entire frame tenses above you, muscles coiling so tightly it’s like he’s holding himself together with sheer willpower alone. But it’s already slipping.

"Fucking," His voice breaks, dissolving into a strangled groan as he buries his face against your neck, breathing you in like a man starved. "Fuck that shouldn’t be so hot, it really shouldn’t—"

Like you haven't already wrecked him beyond repair.

Caleb’s Evol comes back full force, pushing you prone against the mattress so you can’t feel anything but him, the arm around your throat dropping so his hand can press against your belly instead, pinning you down as he fucks into you so deep, so hard, you swear you can feel him in your lungs. His other hand fists in your hair, yanking your head back just enough for his lips to smash onto yours, sloppy, desperate, sucking at your bottom lip as the two of you jolt with each thrust. 

"You have no fucking idea," Caleb laughs against your lips, the words a feverish, choked-out confession, "how long I've wanted to do this to you."

It’s almost like he’s hammering that truth into you, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, the sound of skin on skin nearly drowned out by your own sobs of pleasure.

"Caleb—"

"Say it again," he demands, not even trying to keep his composure anymore. "Say it for me, princess. Say it like you mean it."

"Daddy—"

"Fuck."

Caleb really didn't need another kink, he really didn't need to imagine you calling him all these filthy things on top of every other sinful thing he's already imagined you doing. It must be divine punishment, because god was he into it.

Practically collapsing on top of you, Caleb's barely pulling out before grinding right back in as deep as he can get, like he can barely think to part from you even for a moment, like he needs to feel every twitch, every squeeze, every shudder of your overstimulated body. His hands roam wildly, equally greedy, kneading and groping every tender curve like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you, like he’s claiming you in ways he’s never let himself before. And fuck, you’re close. 

Caleb notices, of course he notices, nibbling the shell of your ear as the arm around your throat tightens, the other going right back to abusing your clit as you squirt all over him with a scream. 

“Aw that’s it, keep cumming sweet thing.” Caleb’s voice is the only thing grounding you, your entire body, your vision trembling as you begin to lose consciousness. The only thing you can think of is Caleb. Caleb, Caleb, Caleb!

You don’t even realize you’re screaming his name over and over again as you squirt down both of your thighs, making a mess against the already ruined sweat-slicked sheets beneath the two of you. You’re so damn messy. He loves it.

Convulsing, walls fluttering around him like you’re made for him, a sweet temptation Caleb is so laughably weak against as he follows, humping against you like a mad dog as his breath shatters into desperate, shaky moans of your name, spilling inside you with a force that has you sobbing with pleasure.

“Oh, princess,” he rasped, his tongue tracing over the tear-streaked path down your cheek before pressing a soft, almost mocking kiss to your jaw. “Shh, it’s alright, don’t cry. Your gege is here, your daddy will take good care of you, promise.”

Rafayel ♱⋅ ── the desperate

You’re going to have to call in sick for the week. 

Every year with the return of the tide, with the return of ebb-and-flow day, Rafayel becomes insatiable. You’ve barely been able to be able to escape Rafayel’s grasp for long enough to go to the bathroom, let alone escape enough from his insatiable fucking to walk well enough to fight. 

It’s never been this bad. And it’s all your fault. Being back in your arms after eight hundred years, finally remembering the way your voice sounds when it says his name and the way you fit oh so perfectly in his arms. It’s borderline painful to spend even a minute in your absence. His very body violently rejects the notion of it as spasms of violent heat and need drives him right back into your arms again and again and again. 

“Please, please let me fuck you. I can’t come like this, you know that.”

Rafayel’s voice is muffled against your thigh, breath hot as he presses a messy, open-mouthed kiss to your skin. His hands are clenched into the sheets beside him, trembling with the effort of keeping them off you, as you ordered. It’s the only rule you’ve given him tonight, and yet it’s breaking him.

"Rafayel," you warn, fingers buried between your thighs, working yourself open as his desperate, pleading gaze follows your every movement.

He whimpers, nodding frantically, his cock throbbing angrily where it rests against the mattress, one hand coming back to violently fist the swollen head as it leaks all over his palm and sheets.  "I know, I know," his voice cracks as he drags his hand around its base, rutting into his own palm like it’s not enough, like it hasn’t been enough for hours now. "But please I—fuck—I can’t."

“You can.” You spread your legs wider, letting him see, letting him watch your fingers disappear into your fluttering cunt with a slick, wet sound that has his jaw going slack, his own hips grind into the bed helplessly.  “I told you what would happen if you forgot to use a condom, again.”

Rafayel’s eyes plead up into yours, big fat tears slipping down his cheeks, his head shaking against your leg as he kisses the trembling flesh. "You don't understand," he sobs, nuzzling into the crook of your knee like he can smell the orgasm building inside you, like he can taste it on his tongue already. “I need— I need—”

"You need to learn control, Rafayel." 

Your voice is less strict than you’d like it to be, already embarrassingly close considering all the times you’ve come earlier today. And the way Rafayel’s looking up at you, begging, pleading, is really not helping. 

Tilting your hips slightly, you circle your clit in a way that makes your eyes roll back, making sure he sees the way your poor cunt flutters all empty, the way your body clenches, desperate for something more, something bigger.

Rafayel groans, his grip on himself tightening. Still, it’s useless, his Lemurian biology physically won’t let him cum unless it’s inside his pretty little mate, his cock swollen and weeping with how much he’s holding back, the pleasure that spikes through him now nothing but a cruel, agonizing echo of the real thing.

"My love," he chokes, head falling back against the mattress, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe past the desperate hunger clawing at his insides. "My muse, my sweet darling, please. Taste you, touch you, anything, please—”

You hum, considering, rolling your hips against your own fingers as he moans, watching with wild, fevered eyes. "You wanna clean me up?"

"Yes."

The word is instant, sharp, like Rafayel’s been waiting for you to say it since the moment he first laid his hands on you tonight. Before you can even think of teasing or denying him any further, his grip snaps—both arms wrapping around your thighs, dragging you down the mattress in one swift, fluid motion.

"Rafayel—"

Too late.

His mouth is on you before you can protest, his tongue filthy as he sucks at your clit, licking up everything you’ve given yourself, drinking in the mess between your thighs like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. Slapping your own hands away, Rafayel pauses briefly to suck them clean before diving right back into the source, moaning into your cunt, making your body seize with another orgasm before you can even process the first.

"Fuck, fuck," Your hands fly to his hair, gripping hard, but it only makes him groan, rutting against the mattress, his own pleasure reigniting just from the taste of you. 

You try to pull away, squirming and kicking at Rafayel’s sides, his shoulders, but he doesn't even budge. His arms lock tight around your hips, keeping you there, keeping you spread for him as he eats you out like a man possessed. 

And then he's begging again, voice wrecked, slurred with delirious pleasure, licking at your clit between words as though he really can’t get enough.  “Please, please let me fuck you. I promise, mhm, promise I won’t cum inside you again.” 

Rafayel is still begging for permission even as he manhandles you beneath him, hesitantly parting with your cunt as he kisses up your stomach, sucking at one of your breasts as you feel the nudge of his cock against your entrance before you can even think. “Promise I’ll be good. I’ll be such a good boy.”

Fuck, you really are weak against him. 

Using the last of your strength, you flip the both of you around, grinding down against his cock as you feel it throb, violently jumping between your thighs, the sloppy, wet sound of each movement sending shivers down both your spines. Poor thing is already ruined, body extra sensitive due to his heat, cock swollen and leaking as it begs to be inside you. 

"You promise?" Your voice is a whisper, teasing, as you drag your soaked folds along the length of him, feeling him tremble beneath you.

Rafayel nods frantically, breath hitching, hands twitching at his sides like he wants to grab you, wants to force you down onto him, but he knows better. Knows he wouldn’t survive the punishment. His lips are red, glossy with your slick, parted around little choked-off whimpers as he fights against the desperate urge to rut up into you.

"I promise," he gasps,  "Please, I’ll be good, I swear, I’ll be so good for you.”

You hum, dragging your fingertips down his chest, nails scraping lightly over sweat-slicked skin, enjoying the way his breath shudders at the contact. The pain. "You say that, but you've already come inside me, what, three times now?" 

You rock your hips again, coating his cock in your arousal, watching the way his abs twitch with the effort of keeping still. Gods, he’s so pretty like this, neglected and crying underneath you, muscles strained and glistening with sweat and cum, watercolor eyes bleary as his tears collect on the mattress as dusky pink pearls. The same rosy shade of blush that burns across his cheeks, ears, and throbbing tip of his swollen cock. 

“That warrants punishment, don’t you think?”

Rafayel all but whines at that, head tilting back against the pillow, his throat bobbing as he tries to breathe, tries to hold on to the last fragile thread of control he has left. "I—I won't this time, I swear, I’ll be good, I just need you."

"You need me?" You lean down, pressing your lips just below his ear, letting your voice drop to a sinful whisper. "Or do you just need to fuck something, sweetheart?"

"You." Rafayel’s answer is immediate, desperate, his hands finally snapping up to grip your hips, fingertips digging into your flesh. "It’s always you. Only you, my mate."

The admission makes your stomach tighten, heat pooling low as you let yourself sink down, just enough for the swollen head of his cock to catch at your entrance. Rafayel jerks, eyes wide, mouth dropping open around a silent moan, his grip on you tightening like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

"Oh, fuck."

"You need me, you need your mate?" You tease, rolling your hips, letting him feel the wet heat of you without giving him what he really needs.

"Yes, please, please, please—"

And then, because you’re cruel, because you love seeing him like this, you lift yourself off him entirely.

Rafayel practically cries at that, and you let him plead, let him beg, until his whole body is shaking with the need to be inside you, until his voice is raw and wrecked from crying out your name. Then, finally, finally, you sink down, dropping the entirety of your weight onto him as you both moan at the sudden pressure as your ass smacks his pelvis with a lewd slap. 

Rafayel’s body aches up off the mattress, a wrecked, strangled moan tearing from his throat as his fingers dig into your hips hard enough to bruise. His head tilts back, chest heaving, eyes glassy and unfocused, dilated almost like a cat’s, as if the feeling of being inside you after so long is too much for his mind to comprehend.

"Fucking finally."

You barely have a moment to adjust before Rafayel thrusts.

Whatever fragile restraint he had is gone, obliterated the second your walls squeeze around him. His hips jerk up in a desperate, instinctual rut, shoving himself deeper, harder, until the thick length of him is buried to the hilt inside you, and then pulled all the way out before ramming back in again. You choke on a gasp, nails digging into his chest, but he doesn’t even seem to register the pain.

"More." Some inhumane warble distorts Rafayel’s voice, nails turning clawed and sharp as he thrusts up into you with more strength than any human should possess. “Perfect, perfect mate.”

Your head spins, the force of each snap of his hips making your whole body jolt. His desperation is relentless, dragging you closer to the edge far too fast, too intense, gripping onto his shoulders just to keep you from falling over as your thighs begin trembling once again. 

"Rafayel—Raf, slow down!"

"No," he whimpers, shaking his head wildly, hands tightening on your waist as if letting go isn’t an option. "No, please, sorry, need this." Rafayel’s voice breaks into a sort of trill, something like whalesong, eyes fluttering shut as he drives himself up into you, starved for more, cock throbbing desperately inside you. "Don’t leave me again, please.”

Your heart clenches. "I’m here," you whisper, leaning down, pressing your forehead to his as your body moves with his, rolling your hips as you try to stay in time with his brutal pace. "I’m right here, Rafayel."

He moans, high and broken, clutching you so tightly against him, feeling every inch of you pressed into his skin. His pace turns frantic, sloppy, body shaking beneath you as pleasure racks through him in violent waves. He’s close, but he won’t let himself fall over the edge alone.

"Come with me," he begs, his lips brushing over yours as he pleads for it. "Please.”

And you do.

The orgasm slams through you like a tidal wave, stealing every breath from your lungs as your entire body clenches around him. Rafayel keens, hips jerking wildly as he follows, his cock pulsing inside you as he fucks his cum deep inside you yet again, stuffing you full until you’re both shaking with overstimulation.

But it still doesn’t stop.

Rafayel can’t stop.

Even as his body trembles beneath you, even as his whimpers turn into sobs, he keeps moving, his hips rolling into you in slow, messy grinds. His cock twitches inside your still-clenching walls, sending violent aftershocks through you both.

"Mhh sorry," he moans, lips dragging down your throat, sucking bruises into your skin as if marking you will somehow keep you tethered to him. "Did it again, can’t help it. Pussy feels so nice, wants me too, always so desperate for me. Made to worship me."

You let out a wrecked, exhausted laugh, trying to lift yourself off of him, but his arms snap tight around your waist, keeping you anchored to him.

"No," he pleads, voice cracking, nuzzling into your neck as he breathes in your scent. "No, please, just—just a little more. You owe it to me for being so mean before."

Your head falls into the crook of his neck as yet another orgasm crashes through you, ripping a moan from your throat. Rafayel shudders, gasping against your skin, completely gone, his hips jerking helplessly, overstimulated beyond the point of caring. His body is moving on instinct now, neither of you fully conscious as he keeps moving on his own, chasing another high even as it breaks him.

"Fuck, Raf...”

"One more," he’s licking into your mouth, sucking your bottom lip, too tired and uncoordinated to properly kiss you. "One more, one more."

You don’t even know how many times you’ve both come. The world is a haze of heat and pleasure, of wet, messy grinds and deep, instinctual thrusts, of Rafayel’s loud, unashamed moans directly in your ear between kisses, of the desperate way he clings to you, unable to bear even a second, an inch of separation.

You ride him through another, and another, until your body finally gives out, completely limp against his chest, your limbs trembling too hard to keep yourself upright any longer. Rafayel follows soon after, his movements slowing, stuttering, until he’s finally, finally still beneath you, panting raggedly, body wracked with aftershocks.

The room is finally silent except for your heavy breathing, the two of you floating between sleep and reality for what seems like an eternity. 

"I think I might die," Rafayel croaks, voice hoarse.

You huff a weak, breathless laugh as you grumble into his shoulder. "Good, you stupid horny fish."

Sylus ♱⋅ ── the sweetheart (liar)

You’re going insane. 

Sylus promised he would finally fuck you, promised he’d finally give you what you’ve practically been begging him for all week. “Just the tip,” you’d beg, whining into his neck or suckling gently against his fingers in attempts to bait him, “Please, Sy, just the tip and I’ll stop asking.”

Technically speaking, he’s held up his end of the deal. After all, you’ve already cum four times. Not that it’s ever stopped you from wanting more. 

“What’s this? Are you even listening to me, sweetie?” Something jerks your head up, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts at the same time as Sylus grinds forward, humming as he pulls you closer on his lap, your thighs spread wide atop of his. “Tch, first all that whining and now you’re not even paying attention to me. I’m hurt, kitten.”

You shake your head as best you can with his thumb and forefinger still squishing your cheeks, tears from the sheer overstimulation blurring your vision as you bury your face into Sylus’s chest, chasing the mere friction. 

The fat head of his cock slips right back out of your cunt, tapping once, twice, on your swollen clit before grinding back in with a lewd pop. One inch, two, just enough for you to feel the delicious stretch of the tip of his cock, before Sylus lifts you up higher on his lap, pulling out as the torture begins all over again. 

You swear you can take more. It doesn’t matter than everytime Sylus lines up his cock it hits your bellybutton from the outside, it doesn’t matter that your hands can barely wrap around his base, it doesn’t matter that even when you suck him off your jaw throbs and he can barely thrust it in halfway without you gagging. 

“Sylus, please, please just—” you whine, rutting your hips down to no avail as his firm hands render you immobile. Watching you squirm with thinly veiled amusement. “Just fuck me already!” 

Your breath comes out in short, stuttered gasps, frustration bubbling over into pitiful little sobs against Sylus’s skin. He shushes you, rubbing slow, teasing circles into your hips as if he’s offering you comfort. But you know better. The bastard lives for this, the way your body trembles, how your cunt clenches down hard every time he pulls out, desperate for more than what he’s giving.

“Please.” A broken cry rips from your throat as he nudges forward again, pushing the tip back inside like he hasn’t already driven you half-mad. “I can take it. Ah, I swear, I can take it.” 

And yet, he’s still so fucking mean.

“Hmm,” Sylus’s voice drips with amusement, low and tinged with laughter as his lips graze the shell of your ear as though lost in thought. “No.”

You whine, digging your nails into Sylus’s back with more force than necessary as you hiss out curses, “Cruel, stubborn, self-assured asshole. I told you I can take it Syl—ah!”

Sylus pushes himself upward, roughly fucking his swollen tip against you, ramming that delicious spot within you as your curses dissolve into mindless babbles of his name, another orgasm ripping through you as you try and match Sylus’s rhythm by grinding yourself on the rest of his cock. 

“That’s it,” He hums, dragging his tongue along your pulse, relishing the way it hammers beneath his mouth.  He can feel how fast it beats, erratic and needy, the way your breath catches in your throat. “You’re gonna be good and take what I give you. Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re already fucked stupid. And I’ve barely even given you anything, kitten.”

It’s humiliating how right he is.

Your thighs tremble violently on either side of his, the ache in your muscles a dull, distant thing compared to the unbearable need twisting in your core. Desperate, you try to grind down, to force him deeper, to make him give you what you need. But Sylus just clicks his tongue, unimpressed, fingers digging into your hips as he holds you still, keeping you right where he wants you.

Sylus shifts back on the couch, pulling you down, controlling your movements with an infuriating ease, guiding you along the few inches he’s deemed fit to give you. It’s barely anything, nowhere near enough, but even that—just that slow, teasing roll of his hips—and the unbearable pressure of the thick, insistent tip of his cock is enough to make your back arch violently against him. 

“There we go,” he murmurs, cooing as he watches you, helpless and pliant in his lap. “No more complaining.”

A desperate nod. Another broken whine. 

You can feel it building again, the pressure coiling deep inside you, sharp and unbearable. Sobbing, you drop your head into Sylus’s shoulder, biting into the curve of his neck to muffle your cries, nails digging into his shoulders, chest, clawing violent red marks as Sylus shudders, eyes rolling back at the pain. Your legs are shaking too hard to do much of anything anymore, giving out as Sylus is the only thing left guiding you, dragging you toward yet another orgasm. 

Or rather, he would have. 

But you feel Sylus chuckle, the sound deep and sinful as it rumbles down his chest and into yours, and fear prickles along your spine. Then, with excruciating patience, he pulls out, leaving you empty all over again before tapping his throbbing cock against your clit—slow, deliberate, taunting.

“You wanted just the tip, sweetheart.” He grins, voice a low, cruel purr as he kisses your forehead. “So don’t start crying now that it’s all you’re getting.”

Xavier ♱⋅ ── the munch

“Then sit on my face.”

You stare, dumbfounded, as Xavier already begins leaning back against the cushions of your bed, those big, blue eyes begging up at you in ways that make it hard to breathe. 

Xavier’s hands tighten around your waist, fingers flexing like he’s barely restraining himself from yanking you down then and there. The heat of his breath ghosts over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making your pulse stammer, making every inch of you ache with want.

“Xavier, I didn’t actually mean…”

“You want me to prove it, right? Then I’ll do what I can to serve you well.” He’s dead serious, you realize, still staring down at him in shock as Xavier frowns, sitting up just long enough to wrap his arms around your waist and haul you toward him, seating you on his chest as protests die in your throat. “Sit.”

Biting your lip, you still find yourself hesitating. What if you’re too heavy? Or if he doesn’t actually like it? You still have your underwear on, shouldn’t you take it off, or does he plan on eating you through it? What if—

"You're thinking too much again." His voice is firm, but gentle, cutting straight through your spiraling thoughts. Before you can get another word in, he lifts you up from the backs of your thighs, guiding you forward until your knees are bracketing his head and you're hovering just above his waiting mouth.

Xavier groans, this is already better than his dreams—just having you above him, so close, so warm—is enough to make him lose his damn mind. His hands are keeping you steady, and when he tilts his head back to look at you again, you almost drown in the sheer hunger in his gaze.

"Please," he murmurs, breathless, sucking and kissing into your thighs like he can't believe you're making him wait so long for something he so, so desperately needs. "I really don’t think I can wait much longer."

A shudder racks through you, thighs trembling as the heat between your legs grows unbearable. Xavier’s so serious, so patient, despite the raw hunger in his voice, despite the way his chest rises and falls in uneven pants beneath you. You’d have to be cruel to deny him. 

Slowly, you lower yourself the rest of the way, bracing your hands against the headboard as Xavier immediately pulls you the last few inches down, shoving his face up into you like he’s starving.

He might as well be because the first swipe of his tongue is so hot, so eager, that you nearly jerk away from the sudden pleasure. Not that Xavier would let you. His fingers dig into the marked-up plush of your thighs, keeping you right there as he groans into your pussy like you’re the best fucking thing he’s ever tasted.

“Wait—” Your voice is already breaking, a gasp caught in your throat as he licks into you again, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring every second of it. He doesn’t even bother pulling your underwear aside, just mouths at the fabric, dampening it further, teasing you through the barrier until it sticks to your folds and you’re a whimpering mess, gripping the headboard so tightly your knuckles ache. 

Then he shifts, hooking a single finger under the waistband, dragging it aside just enough to give himself proper access.

The first real flick of Xavier’s tongue against your clit is devastating.

A high, broken moan rips from your throat as pleasure jolts up your spine, your thighs snapping shut around his head, suffocating him as Xavier feels like the happiest man in the world. Moaning into your cunt, Xavier pulls you down harder against his mouth like he wouldn’t mind drowning in your pleasure if it meant he got to taste you for just a few seconds longer.

You’re already cumming. Head falling backward, your lips part in a silent scream as Xavier’s tongue continues circling around your clit in that same, devastating rhythm, only letting go once you’ve come all over his face. But he doesn’t stop for long. 

His tongue flicks and curls and fucks into you with the kind of dedication that makes your vision blur, that makes your whole body burn as you become more and more sensitive. And when you grind down against his mouth, desperate and trembling, he just groans in approval, encouraging you to ride his face like you need this just as much as he does.

"That's it," Xavier mumbles between licks, inaudible between your wet, sinful noises. "Don't hold back. Use me."

It’s too much. It’s not enough.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling hard, but it only makes him grin against you, only makes him suck harder, making you gasp and sob as your thighs start to shake once more around his head. Still, he devours you, no teasing, no hesitation. Just raw, ravenous hunger. 

"Xavier—"

He hums in response, the vibrations sending another sharp wave of pleasure through you. Then he finally fucks his tongue deep into your cunt, curling against your walls as you clench around the hot muscle, Xavier’s nose grinding deliciously into your clit as his hands begin guiding you back and forth once your rhythm falls apart. 

You come hard, a choked cry ripping from your throat as your body locks up, pleasure searing through every nerve. Xavier doesn’t stop—doesn’t let you escape—licking and sucking you through your orgasm like he needs every drop, like he won’t be satisfied until you’re a writhing, overstimulated mess above him.

“Ah, Xavier, seriously,” you whine, every suck against your clit now tender and overstimulated as you try and squirm away to no avail. “Can’t, Xavier, can’t come again!”

Crying, you finally manage to wrestle his head out from underneath you—body still shaking, pleasure crackling under your skin like a live wire—realizing something that makes your stomach flip.

Xavier is panting, eyes half-lidded and hazy with bliss, hair fisted in your hands as the rest sticks to his forehead and pillow with sweat, letting you inch off of him as he finally breathes, heaving in deep breaths through swollen, wet lips. His whole body shudders beneath you, and when you shift, you feel it—the sticky warmth against his stomach, the evidence of his release.

He came. Just from eating you out.

And the worst part?

He’s still hard.

“One more time, please?”

Zayne ♱⋅ ── the addicted

Uh oh. 

This was bad. 

Zayne has always considered himself a beacon of self-control, having grown up under the concept of restraint and caution when it came to everything from his Evol to his life’s work as a surgeon. 

But even he could get addicted to having you spread out underneath him like this. 

It had started innocently. Zayne had forgotten his lunch today, probably due to his consecutive sleepless nights, thanks to being on call for not two or three but four surgeries this week. So when you delivered his lunch to his private office like any sweet girlfriend would do, it was only natural that you’d want to see if you could help him feel more relaxed and maybe help relieve the stress that was so clearly fogging up his mind. 

This, however, was not what you had in mind.

"Zayne, someone is going to hear us," you hiss, voice trembling, but make no move to stop him.

Zayne only hums, two fingers rubbing right up against your clit with expert precision even with your jeans still unzipped around your waist. His other hand shucks them just barely down your thigh, pressing his fingers right back in, curling against that spot that has your legs jerking against the polished wood of his desk before dragging his fingers out of you agonizingly slow. 

"You should’ve locked the door when you came in, then." He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, leaning down, his breath hot against your ear. His free hand presses against your stomach, keeping you pinned as he fucks you open with his fingers, movements slow, deliberate. "You know I don’t like being interrupted."

Your head tilts back against the desk as your cries are muffles into your palm. "Zayne!"

"You were the one who wanted to help relieve my stress, weren’t you?" His voice is calm, collected, like he isn’t knuckle-deep inside you with his fingers glistening from how wet he’s made you already. "So be a good girl and take it."

Your breath stutters, thighs twitching as you clench around his fingers, already embarrassingly close with how well he knows your body, how pent up you’ve been after not having Zayne in over a week. Meanwhile, Zayne watches you come undone with sharp, almost clinical eyes, the hunger in them barely restrained, a predator biding his time.

"Mhm, close, I can’t—"

"Yes, you can," he cuts you off smoothly, pressing his fingers deeper, rubbing firm, steady circles over your clit. His expression doesn’t change, but his voice dips lower, smiling ever so slightly as he watches you. "Come for me."

You shudder violently, hands gripping the edges of the desk as another orgasm threatens to crash over you, your body far too weak to resist the relentless pleasure.

"Zayne," you cry out, hips jerking.

He clicks his tongue, allowing you to ride out your orgasm, but not before ripping his tie off, deft, scarred hands looping through the expensive silk before balling it up and pushing it into your open mouth. 

“What did I say about staying quiet?”

Your response is stifled around his tie, and Zayne feels his traitorous cock throb at the sound of your fucked out, inaudible voice, the very picture of debauchery with the slight drool smearing your lipstick, your eyes hazy with post-orgasm glow, your office button-down skewed across your breasts just enough so be can squeeze your breast right under your lacy bra. 

He wants to ruin you even more. 

Zayne has barely even zipped down his pants, holding up his own shirt as he bites it to keep his leaking cock from smearing pre-cum all over the cotton, before he’s desperately fucking his own fist with one hand, the other still circling your clit. 

When the sound of voices echo from right outside his office door. 

Your body jerks under him at the sudden noise, but Zayne doesn’t stop. If anything, he doubles down, pressing his slick fingers harder against your clit, wrenching another broken sob from your throat, muffled by the tie still shoved between your lips.

“Don’t you dare,” he whispers, voice low, dangerous. His free hand tightens around his cock, stroking faster, more desperate, more sloppy than you’ve ever seen him. The sight alone has your walls clenching down around nothing, a fresh wave of arousal making a mess of his desk and the scattered papers on top. 

The voices outside the door grow louder, and Zayne’s entire body tenses. Not with fear. Not with hesitation. But something that he thinks might ruin him forever. 

“I should stop,” he murmurs, though his fingers never leave you, still rubbing circles into your overstimulated clit, dragging you higher, forcing you to ride that unbearable edge of pleasure. His teeth clench, brows furrowed as his pace on his own cock stutters, his restraint cracking with every second that passes. “I really should stop.”

You whimper, body trembling beneath him, a plea barely audible around the silk in your mouth.

“But you love this, don’t you?” His voice drops, rasping, guttural. “You love making me a mess, love knowing that the only thing keeping us from getting caught is how good you are for me.”

Zayne never talks like this, but god, now you wish he’d never stop. His mere voice is enough to send you over the edge once again. Your moan is strangled, raw, hips lifting weakly into his touch despite the overstimulation.

The door handle rattles.

Zayne snaps, one arm shooting out as ice surrounds the handle, spears of ice crawling over the wooden frame of the door, across the tiled floor as he loses control. 

He barely spares it a glance. Pulling the tie from your mouth, Zayne immediately replaces it with his lips, swallowing your gasp as he shoves two fingers back inside you, curling them deep, his strokes ruthless, relentless. His other hand leaves his cock only long enough to drag you forward, forcing your legs around his waist, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance as he moans into your mouth.

"Zayne, your Evol—"

"Don’t worry about me," he hums, kissing you one more time before his gaze drops, watching where the two of you meet. “You’ve done more than enough for me. You’ve always been enough for me.” And he pushes in inch by inch, stretching you open around his thick length, your body still pulsing and greedy from your last orgasm.

Zayne exhales sharply, his forehead pressing against yours as he stills, buried inside you. His fingers flex against your waist, grounding himself, keeping himself from completely unraveling.

 “Breathe,” he murmurs, voice back to the soft, low tone you know so well, the urgency melting into something reverent. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then another to your jaw, as if to soothe you through the stretch. “You’re perfect.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently as you grind upward, coaxing him into going faster, into actually fucking you. 

Zayne groans, his control fraying as he clutches you tighter, nose brushing against yours. “You're going to be the death of me,” he whispers, lips ghosting yours in a kiss, the intimacy making your heart clench.

You can still hear muffled voices beyond the door, a stark reminder of the risk, of how dangerously close you are to being caught. But it only makes you cling to him tighter, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you whisper, “Then let me take care of you, Doctor.”

Aight this is for my friend cuz she loves L (I mean I do too but this is her request) and doesn't have Tumblr.

So, headcanons for this kind of situation?: The reader is a café waitress and so one day L decides to get sweets himself and orders from the reader. He decides to come back everyday to the café for the sweets and because he liked the waitress. So like as he visits everyday he starts to get a crush on the reader and the reader with him if that makes sense. Eventually he asks out?

bye bc i absolutely adore this idea 🥺 thank you so much for this request, and i hope both you and your friend like this! <3

so we ALL know l loves his sweets

one day he asks watari to bring him some after a long while of working, to which watari replies that they've run out

so l is like "okay" and decides to take matters into his own hands

he's not too afraid to go out in public without any kind of disguise or protection, as he always keeps his identity hidden while working as l

he wastes no time in pulling on a pair of sneakers and waltzing out, trying to find a good place to buy himself more treats

after a while of looking, he finally comes across this cute little café

which just so happens to be the very café that you work in!

so he walks in there while you're working the register

he sees you and he's literally like "oh my god"

there's something about you that makes him feel just... weird

not like a bad weird though! he feels his heart skip a beat and his stomach suddenly start churning

it's an odd feeling for him, but he likes it????

he doesn't really know what to think; all he can do is just ogle at you

he can't get enough of you, and he hasn't even spoken to you yet

so finally l gets over himself and shuffles up to the counter

you notice him and you flash him a warm smile

"hello! what can i get for you today?"

if you look into his brain at this moment, all it would be is the windows error screen LMAO

l is able to keep up a decent front as he quickly spouts off the names of some cakes and pies and such, but right now he's more interested in the pretty person in front of him rather than the sweets

before he knows it, you're ringing up his items and handing him his food

he's well aware that this is his cue to leave, but he just doesn't want to

something about you makes him want to stay. he just finds you interesting, is all

so he takes the stuff and he goes back to his hotel, but he can't stop thinking about that pretty cashier

so fast forward to the next day, and l is like "screw it" and decides to go back to see you again

luckily for him, you're there! he couldn't be more excited :D

he's definitely not one of those people whose face you'd see in a crowd one day and just totally forget about. he's got a certain air about him, this little quirky charm, so obviously you recognize him

"hello again! i did see you yesterday, didn't i?"

"uh, yes. yes you did."

"see, i knew i recognized you! you back for more sweets?"

"mhm. do you have anything strawberry flavored, by any chance?"

l's already an introvert, but he can feel himself getting shyer the longer he's near you

he's very well aware that he's an awkward kind of guy, but you manage to get him all flustered in a way he's never been before

as you ring up the items he'd ordered, he attempts to make small talk with you

"the weather's nice today."

"you think so? it's been really rainy and gloomy."

"i like the rain."

"oh yeah! nothing wrong with the rain. it can be quite nice."

when you hand him the bag of stuff, you're about to wish him farewell before he randomly says, "oh, by the way, what's your name?"

"it's (y/n)!" you tell him, gesturing to the name tag on your shirt. "yours?"

"oh, it's ryuzaki."

(as interested as he is in you, he's not about to just give himself away as l like that)

"i like that name! well, ryuzaki, i hope you have a good day! and come back soon!"

"i will, thank you."

you didn't expect him to actually take 'soon' so literally, as the next day he's back again

and the day after that

you get the gist

l always comes in at around 6 or 7 in the evening when business is slow so you have more of a chance to talk to him

the more he comes in, the more comfortable he grows around you.

talking about each other's day, sharing funny stories, getting to know each other- it's really nice! and you always look forward to seeing him come in, because you always have a blast hanging out with him

as time goes on, l only falls harder for you. your smile, the way your hair perfectly frames your beautiful face, the way you laugh every time he makes an attempt to crack a joke... he loves it

unbeknownst to him, you've caught feelings as well. you've already grown to be feel comfortable in his company, but the more you get to know him, the more you realize that omg this guy's the cutest

finally, one evening he comes in, but he looks way more anxious than normal

"ryuzaki! hey, you doing okay? you seem kinda... i don't know. off. did something happen?"

"no, no. nothing happened. i just- i have something i want to tell you."

"hmm? what is it?"

"well, you see, i... i've been thinking about you a lot. i quite enjoy visiting you and talking to you, and i think you're one of the most interesting people i've met. i like being with you, so i was wondering if you would like to, um, spend more time together outside of your work. like a date. but only if you're comfortable with it."

at this, you're literally over the moon

"i'd really like that, ryuzaki! i get off work early tomorrow; would you be down to grab some dinner with me?"

l flashes you his signature tiny smile, the one you've grown to know and love over this past while

"yes. i'd like that, (y/n). i'd like it very much."

Cillian Murphy as Jackson Rippner in Red Eye (2005)

Beating Hearts

sylus x fem!reader

summary: following the aftermath of his match, sylus shows you how much he adores you.

cw: nsfw (18+) - mdni!!, smut, fluff, kissing, loss of virginity, oral sex, face-sitting, vaginal fingering, p in v, belly bulge, praise kink, inappropriate use of evol

wc: 4.1k

a/n: he was so sweet in this card <3 if you would like to read an mma au with sylus (mma fighter!sylus x manager!reader), then you can find it here! :)

also on ao3!

“Are the strong always required to be strong?”

Sylus’ words ring out in your mind as you sit beside him on the stairs, draped in silence. He runs his hand through his hair, having wiped off the rivulets of sweat that were sliding down his skin with a towel.

Was he trying to be vulnerable with you? It’s the only reason you can think of as to why he would ask that question. The thought of him being devoid of strength is a nauseating one. He wouldn’t be the same without his strength, the raw power he carried, his Evol a testament to that. 

Absent-mindedly, you play with the ring he had given you. Onychinus’ leader is a confusing man. There’s an unexpected softness to him that you’re not used to. It unnerves you a little, the way Sylus had pressed his face into your hair in a gentle kiss.

You stare at the side of his face, Sylus’ eyes have slid shut due to the lack of conversation. He looks even more vulnerable like this and you can’t imagine what you’d do with yourself if he was hurt, or even worse killed if his healing abilities somehow failed him. It’s only then that you realize you care more about the asshole than you should. 

Still, it doesn’t stop you from sliding closer, your side pressing against his. Sylus’ eyes flutter open, a smirk pulling at his lips when he sees how close you’ve gotten.

“Something wrong, sweetie?” he asks in a drawl.

“No,” you shoot back, eyes slipping back towards the ring on your finger. “It’s just-” you sigh, avoiding his gaze completely, “the answer to your question is no. The strong aren’t always required to be strong.”

Sylus raises his brows, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You glare back at him, cheeks flushing under his knowing gaze.

“What I mean to say,” you grouse, “is that it would be good if you were strong all the time, but if you aren’t, then- then you don’t have to be, around- around me.”

“Is that your twisted way of saying you care for me?” Sylus muses, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“And if it is?” you murmur, leaning into his touch when he traces the tips of his fingers over the curve of your cheek.

“I’d be grateful,” Sylus replies, gripping your chin gently.

Your breath hitches when he leans forward, brushing a soft kiss to your temple. His calloused hands cup your cheeks afterwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. Sylus’ thumbs smooth over the expanse of your cheeks and you reach up, hands curling around his wrists.

“Don’t you think you’re giving too much of yourself away?” you whisper.

“Perhaps,” Sylus murmurs, his breath fanning across your face. “Will you use it against me?”

There’s no uncertainty in your mind as to what he’s asking of you. Loyalty. Yet, you and Sylus come from entirely different worlds, ones that don’t mesh well together, ones that would make blind loyalty a bitter curse.

Against better judgment, you shake your head. Sylus lets out a low laugh, surprise flashing through his eyes at your answer.

“Looks like we both have our weaknesses, sweetie.”

You let out a slow exhale when he tilts your head, lips pressing against your cheek in a reverent kiss. Sylus stares down at you, his thumbs running over your cheeks again. Your lips part when he nears, but he doesn’t kiss you the way you want, instead dropping a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering.

“You said you adored me,” you say weakly, trying to stop him from rising to his feet.

“I do,” Sylus says, smiling down at you. His hand reaches out, pulling you to your feet, his arm curling around your waist to pull you flush against him. “But I won’t show you how much I adore you here.”

-

The ride back is a tense one.

You keep fidgeting in your seat, fingers alternating between playing with your dress and the ring on your finger. If Sylus notices, he doesn’t say anything, instead keeping his eyes on the road as he drives. It takes everything in you to stop yourself from reaching out for his hand and lacing your fingers together.

“Relax,” he murmurs when the traffic light turns red. His hand spreads over your thigh, warm and comforting and you bite back a whine, eyes slipping shut.

Sylus leans across the center console, his lips pressing against your cheek. You can feel his smile against your skin, your hand reaching up to run through his hair when he drags his lips down across your jaw.

“You’re not playing fair,” you mumble, tilting your head to the side so he can kiss your cheek again.

“I never said I would,” Sylus replies, squeezing your thigh again before letting go as the traffic light turns green.

Sylus helps you out of the car, nodding to one of his men to take it elsewhere while his hand encases yours, pulling you through the doors and down the hallway towards his room.

You watch as he manages to conjure up a vase, disappearing into the bathroom to fill it with some water as he unwraps the bouquet of flowers you had given him. It’s an unfitting image, the most dangerous man in the N109 zone and Linkon combined taking such care with the flowers so as to not crumple the delicate petals.

You wonder whether he’ll be just as gentle with you.

A squeak escapes you as his Evol surrounds you, the red tendrils lifting you off of your feet and bringing you closer to him, until you’re settled on his desk, legs dangling off the edge, feet not quite reaching the ground.  

Sylus steps between your legs, crowding into your space, his hands on either side of you, against the wood of his desk. Your head tilts back to meet his darkened eyes better, breath hitching when his hands squeeze at your waist. He pets his hands across your sides lazily, his forehead pressing against yours.

Soft, airy breaths leave you, back arching into his touch as Sylus’ hands roam over you, touching every inch that he can find. His nose nudges against yours, and you rise to meet the challenge, hands splaying across his firm chest before your arms wrap around his neck, drawing him closer.

“There’s something you should know,” you whisper when Sylus presses his face into the crook of your neck, his lips grazing your skin as he leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses.

“What?” he murmurs, tightening his arms around your waist and pulling to the edge of his desk.

“I-” your breath falters, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. You try again, but your breath gets caught in your throat, something akin to an odd gulp sounding in the quiet room.

Sylus draws back when he senses your hesitation, his brows raising. You blink up at him, shrinking under his piercing gaze. 

“Hey,” Sylus says when you try to avert your gaze, trapping your chin between his fingers and forcing you to meet his eyes. “What is it?”

“I’ve never done this before,” you blurt out in a rush, cheeks flushing deeper.

Sylus stares down at you in surprise, clearly taken aback by this new revelation. He doesn’t say anything for what seems like an eternity and the more uncomfortable you grow, trying to squirm off of the desk.

He doesn’t let you, gripping your chin tighter in a bruising grip, his carmine eyes boring down into yours.

“Never?” Sylus asks finally, his head tilting.

“Never,” you mumble, a pout making your lower lip jut out, feeling sullen at his reaction.

Sylus hums before a slow grin spreads across his face, his hands cupping your cheeks, thumb smoothing over the plush of your lips.

“Were you saving yourself for me, sweetie?”

“Shut up!” you retort, swatting his chest.

Sylus laughs, nuzzling into your cheek and kissing it. You lean into it, eyes fluttering shut when he strokes his hand over your hair, cupping the back of your head.

“I suppose I’ll have to take care of you then, hm?” he muses.

“You’re making it seem like a chore,” you huff out, pushing at his shoulders, sending him a glare.

He grins, hoisting you up into his arms. You squeak, legs wrapping around his waist instinctively, hands tightening on his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Quite the contrary, sweetie,” Sylus says, planting a kiss to your sternum as he carries you to his bed. “Once I have you, I won’t be inclined to let you go.”

You stare up at him shyly when he lays you down, his hand catching yours as he kisses your knuckles, fingers grazing the ring on your finger.

“Perhaps I ought to get you a better fitting one.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you mutter, flushing at the implication of his words.

You reach for him anyways, lacing your fingers together and tugging him closer. Sylus’ body settles between your thighs, and you whine, lips parting as his face draws closer.

“I told you I wouldn’t let you go,” Sylus murmurs, peering into your eyes, “I meant it.”

The conviction in his voice has your heart fluttering, a satisfied smile pulling at your lips. Sylus laughs, the tip of his nose brushing yours gently as he lowers his head to kiss you.

You stop him, thumb pressing against his lips.

“Do you promise, Sylus?”

“I already lost you once,” he mutters, “I won’t lose you again.”

Your brows furrow, confusion flitting across your face. “What are you talking a-”

Sylus doesn’t give you a chance to finish, shutting you up with a kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, hand leaving untangling from his to cup his cheek instead. A soft gasp spills out of you when Sylus’ hands creep up under your dress, his fingers squeezing at the fat of your thighs.

His kisses grow hungrier, taking and taking until you’re all but gasping, tugging at his snowy hair in an attempt to get him to detach so you can breathe. Your lips are slick with spit and Sylus grins at the sight, collecting the drool that’s escaped from your mouth with his tongue, licking up the side of your cheek and into your mouth.

“M-more,” you whine needily, legs locking around his hips.

“Wet already?” he whispers, fingers reaching between your bodies to find your panties drenched. Sylus coos, his thumb pressing against your clothed clit to rub firm circles into the throbbing bud. “Is that all it takes? My baby just needs some kisses to make her cunt leak.”

You glare at him, pinching his shoulder at the vulgar words. Sylus smirks lazily and you squeal when he slaps your ass playfully, his body jostling closer to capture your lips in another hot, demanding kiss.

Sylus’ hardening cock grinds into your clothed cunt and you whimper, arms wrapping around his neck tighter. His hand smoothes over your hair, keeping you in place, fingers dragging against the skin of your thigh harshly as he pants into the crook of your neck. 

“Gonna let me lick that pretty pussy?” Sylus asks, his fingers toying with the band of your panties, “hm, sweetie?”

You nod hazily, sitting up for him. He helps pull your dress up over your head, your bra soon after, his eyes darkening when he sees your breasts and hardening nipples in the cool air.

“Don’t stare,” you grumble, shying away.

Sylus clicks his tongue, shaking his head before lowering it to press a kiss to your right nipple. You whine at the unfamiliar sensation, gasping when his tongue lolls out, licking over your nipple before enclosing his mouth around your breast.

“Oh-” you mewl, pulling his head closer, “S- Sylus, fuck- ngh-” 

He flicks his tongue against your hardened nipple, swirling around your skin for a moment before pulling away with a soft, suctioning pop. You fist his tank top, yanking him closer to smash your lips against his.

Sylus grins against your lips, squeezing at your hips as you shove at his chest and crawl up onto his lap. You’re pent up, and can hardly believe you have Sylus here, mouth dropping open as you drag your clothed cunt against his stiffening cock.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, gripping your thighs as he drags you up his body, stopping short of his face.

“W- wait,” you sputter, trying to squirm your way back down, “Sylus!”

“Sit on my face, baby,” Sylus says, smoothing his hands up your thighs and squeezing at your breasts.

“That’s- that’s weird,” you hiss.

He rolls his eyes and you shriek when his Evol wraps around you, picking you up with ease and places you onto his mouth. Your body jolts when his tongue licks across your ruined panties, hands gripping the pillows above his head desperately.

“Oh fuck-” you whine, voice strangled. You bite your lip hard, hands fisting Sylus’ hair when he pulls your panties to the side and licks across your bare cunt. 

The bridge of his nose presses into your clit perfectly, and Sylus taps your thighs, his eyes peering up at you as he urges you to move. You find yourself unable to look away, desperation swirling in your gaze as you rock your cunt across his mouth, heat shooting through your stomach as he stares up at you intensely.

Sylus presses his head back and you reach for his hand, squeezing tightly as he sucks his clit into your mouth. He runs his thumb across your skin, slurping messily at your cunt. You shudder, moans and whines spilling out into the air as he ravages your pussy with his mouth. 

It nearly makes you cum when he manhandles your body, hiccuping at the way his thick biceps flex as he pulls you off his face and places you flat onto your back. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he rasps, thumbing apart your slick folds and groaning when he sees how messy you are, your slick and his spit coating your inner thighs, your cunt clenching around nothing pitifully.

Sylus buries his face back into your wet pussy, licking across your folds messily before splaying his large hand against your stomach, tilting his head to kiss your swollen clit. He strokes the calloused pads of his fingers across it gently and you twitch, tugging at his hair wantonly.

“Fuck,” he snarls, gripping your thighs roughly, fingers dimpling your flesh as he shoves his face in harder, trying to burrow into your cunt, “‘s not enough.”

“‘m gonna-” you whimper, “if you keep doing that- hah- ‘m gonna cum!”

“Good,” Sylus mutters, sucking your clit back into his mouth, “cum on my tongue, baby.”

You bite back a scream when he presses his fingers inside, curling them and thrusting them in and out of you. Your thighs tighten around his head, trapping him against your cunt and Sylus groans while you suck in a shuddering breath, watching with dazed eyes as his hips grind into the bed spread. The muscles in his broad back shifting drive you further to the edge, but it's the press of his nose against your clit that sends you over, eyes rolling to the back of your head, back arching as you twitch and jolt, legs kicking out as you cum.

He keeps you pinned in place, licking over your puffy folds, even as you tug at his hair desperately in an attempt to make him stop. Sylus’ eyes meet your wild ones, the corner of his mouth ticking up as he presses a sloppy kiss to your clit. He lands a few more soft kisses, massaging your thighs as you come down from your high.

“I- I need a moment,” you mumble out, body curling into itself, eyes slipping shut at the overwhelming pleasure.

Sylus slots his body behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as he tugs you into his chest. You lean into him tiredly when he kisses down your neck, his hands rubbing up and down your side soothingly.

“Was that good?” he asks quietly.

You can hear how smug he sounds, an irritated huff of air leaving you. Sylus smiles against your cheek and you tilt your head back, pecking his lips gently.

“You’re an asshole.”

“Now, now, sweetie,” he drawls, rubbing circles into your hip, “don’t be like that.”

You pout and he grins, dipping his head to kiss you again. Sylus’ hips have begun to move, his clothed cock rubbing into your ass, the hard length straining against the flimsy fabric of his shorts.

“Off,” you murmur, pulling at his tank top, “take it off.”

Sylus takes it off without complaint and you smile at the sight, hands spreading across his chest appreciatively. His shorts come off soon after and you swallow nervously at the sight, the bob of his thick cock entirely too intimidating.

“Relax,” he murmurs, lips pressed against your ear, “you’ll be fine.”

You moan softly when he kisses your shoulder, his hard cock grinding into your ass again. Sylus lifts your leg, and you whimper when he slots his cock between your thighs, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair.

“So soft, baby,” Sylus whispers, fucking his cock between your thighs, “so perfect for me. My pretty, perfect girl.”

“I think I’m ready,” you breathe out, feeling the head of his cock nudge against your clit every now and then, “just- just go slow, please.”

Sylus grasps your face, turning it back towards him to kiss you. It’s softer this time, lips working against yours as he grasps his cock, rubbing it through your folds and coating it in your click before notching the tip of it against your pussy.

He kisses you through it, doesn’t let you squirm away, keeps his lips against yours as he presses his cock in. You shift uncomfortably and Sylus nuzzles into your cheek, letting out a low hum.

“Doing so good, sweetie,” he praises, seeing the tears prick at your eyes, “so, so good.”

Sylus is thick, practically splitting you open, forcing your pussy to accommodate him. You whimper in pain and he kisses you gently, brushing your hair away from your forehead as he continues to sink his cock in.

“Too big,” you pout, feeling completely and utterly full.

“Look,” Sylus whispers, his fingers brushing across your stomach when the entirety of his cocks sinks into your stretched out pussy.

You peer down to where he’s pointing, flushing when you see the bulge in your stomach, his fat cock the culprit. 

“All mine,” Sylus murmurs, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he rolls his hips in, making you gasp and dig your fingers into his forearm. “My pretty fuckin’ baby, all fuckin’ mine.”

“‘s too much,” you hiccup, eyes fluttering shut and moaning when he presses down on the bulge gently, a tingle shooting through your body, making your toes curl. 

“Take my cock, sweetie,” he whispers, kissing your neck reverently, his fingers pinching at your nipples.

“Sylus,” you whine when he draws his hips back out and thrusts his cock back in, “want- want more.”

“Are you sure?” Sylus asks, staring down at you, “I thought it was too much?”

Your eyes narrow, hand reaching for his, letting your Evol flare, resonating with him. Sylus lets out a choked noise, his head dropping and eyes squeezing shut, body shuddering behind yours. You smile up at him, satisfied and smug. 

“Little brat,” he hisses, though there’s no real venom in his voice. “Again.”

You do as he wants, resonating with him again, moaning loudly when he humps his hips into you, cock dragging through your clenching walls. Somehow, you can hear your own heartbeat, the energy flowing through you heightening your senses as Sylus’ Evol strengthens. 

The red and black mist caresses your body, grazing across your nipples and your clit. You whine into the pillows, hand grasping his tighter. Sylus’ Evol eventually dims down the more he gets lost in the wet heat of your cunt, his arm curling around your leg to hoist it up as he fucks his cock into you.

Sylus moves your leg after a while, slotting his hips between your legs again, hips rocking into you. You let out soft airy noises and strangled moans, nails clawing down his back as Sylus presses his face against your neck, growling lowly.

“Feel so good,” he groans, leaving sloppy kisses across your skin, fastening his pace when he feels your legs lock around his hips.

“Sy- Sylus,” you moan, pulling his head up to kiss him.

He returns the kiss just as hungrily, planting his hand on your head to hug you to him as he tilts your hips up a little, cock driving into you. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, hugging him closer as he presses his body flush against yours, heavy balls slapping against your skin, the lewd sound emanating through the quietness of the room.

“Gonna make me fuckin’ cum,” Sylus rasps, dragging kisses across your sweaty skin.

“Then- then cum,” you hiccup, tugging at the strands of his hair gently, “want you to fill me up.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, peering down into your eyes, “want me to stuff this little cunt full?”

You nod eagerly, and he grins devilishly, pushing his thumb into your mouth. You suck obediently, eyes fluttering shut at the comfort of his thumb, losing yourself in him.

“Resonate with me when you cum,” Sylus whispers, his voice strained as he feels the walls of your pussy clenching tighter and tighter.

He laces your fingers together, bringing your hand to his lips. You can see the way he looks down at you, as though he can’t quite believe you’re here, his head tilting to press his lips against the ring firmly.

It’s a struggle to control your Evol, but you do as he asks, resonating when you feel the tight coil in your lower stomach snap as he shoves his cock inside of you all the way, gasping at the way it throbs inside of you. Your orgasm is blinding, body shuddering violently as you cum, Sylus’ Evol making you see stars.

It feels as though you’ve been set alight, somehow able to feel the energy pulsing around you, just like how his cock is inside of you. Sylus isn’t faring much better, his hips stuttering to a jerky stop as he slumps over you, gasping raggedly. His cum spills into you, hot and thick, adding to the haze in your mind.

The red and black tendrils stroke over your body gently and you whine softly, chasing after the mist of his Evol when it dissipates. Your thighs are sticky with his cum, his softening cock slipping out of you, cum leaking out soon after.

“I adore you,” Sylus whispers after a moment, pulling you into his chest, kissing your forehead.

“I know,” you say, eyes fluttering shut when he kisses you, slow and soft, his fingers sliding over your jaw and across the expanse of your cheek.

You smile up at him, body draped over his, chin resting on his chest. Sylus runs his fingers through your hair absentmindedly, scratches your scalp gently and presses his thumb against your lips for you to kiss.

“I’m glad it was you,” you murmur, head tilting to the side.

Sylus hums, leaning in to kiss you tenderly before he stands up. You bite your lip, watching his broad back as he disappears and returns with warm, damp cloth. He wipes your inner thighs with care, and over your puffy pussy, cleaning the cum and slick that soils your skin.

Your feet press against his chest playfully and he smiles, hands curling around your ankles to kiss the soles of your feet.

“Sore?” he asks, peppering lazy kisses to your ankles.

You nod, feeling a dull ache settle in your thighs and pussy. Sylus kisses your feet again and finds you a shirt to wear, pulling a pair of boxers up over his hips. You curl into him, staring up into his eyes.

“You said you lost me once,” you say quietly, fingers tracing over his chest, “but we’ve never met before.”

A pained expression comes over Sylus, his lips pulling down into a frown. You can’t understand what he’s so upset about, you don’t even understand what he meant when he said that.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sylus murmurs, his arm tightening around you, “I have you now.”

You purse your lips, examining his expression a little more intently, but whatever pain was there is now gone. His lips meet yours and you kiss, thumbs stroking over his cheeks soothingly.

“Then keep me,” you whisper, “for as long as you want.”

Sylus runs his fingers over the champion’s ring, sitting prettily on your ring finger. He holds your eyes as he brings it to his lips and kisses it again.

“Eternity, then.” Sylus whispers, forehead pressing against yours. “Crows keep that which is shiny. You, sweetie, happen to burn the brightest in my eyes.”

drowsy 🪼

— (rafayel)

.

my baby my babyyyy or however it goes