Hey I got a question what happened to your other account when I was going to look for something that I read about Sukuna x reader I couldn't find your account
im so late LMAO IM SO SORRY BUT UH liliklei has been deactivated and my other blog lilithkleia got terminated :c im currently using @lilithklei !! but im trying to get my blog back atm
a/n : nsfw!! minors do not interact with<3 (this is my first time writing for jjk be nice to me ^-^) !
nerd!gojo who was so, so terribly whipped for you before he could even conjure up a way to ask you out, thinking of every possible scenario and outcome before he ran up to you after your anatomy class so he could ask for your name.
nerd!gojo, whoâs so terribly in love with you, he always gets you your favourite drink from that little cafe you always go to every time you need to study.
nerd!gojo who canât stop staring at your lips while heâs tutoring you for a physics class, constantly babbling while bashfully looking away and looking down at your lips again, he just canât help it! your lips simply look so soft.
nerd!gojo who keeps spewing facts about quantum physics and astronomy while making out with you, rambling away while he dips his head just to kiss you again.
nerd!gojo who simply cannot shut up how perfect you are, and how great you feel around him while heâs fucking you into the mattress in a mean headlock, constantly telling you how cute you look at his mercy, drooling all over his expensive sheets, and completely complacent in his hold.
nerd!gojo who tries to study while youâre riding him, whimpering and moaning between thrusts, holding onto your hips and setting the pace slowly, his jaw slowly going slack and his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
nerd!gojo whoâs an absolute MUNCH. he would do absolutely anything to be crushed between your thighs while he eats you out, drool spilling down his chin while he presses his tongue down to your slit and eats like a man STARVED.
You were Zayneâs patient, and for some reason, he couldnât help himself but to stalk your Tumblr account.
!! This might, just might, have a part two.
âOh and Iâm on Tumblr by the way, doctor! Please follow me and interact with my posts. Itâs lowonadultpoints.â
Zayne could not get the barely intelligible words of yours out of his head.
Yes, you were still high on anesthetic.
Yes, he had witnessed multiple instances like that before.
But there he sat on his grey couch, fresh out of the shower with his towel still hanging off his shoulders, 9:41 PM, his laptop opened and already browsing.
He searched for âTumblerâ, having not heard anything about the platform beforehand.
âDo you mean Tumblrâ
Oh⊠Tumblr.
He wouldnât have known.
He clicked on the website, and was immediately assaulted by a chaotic mosaic of GIFs, sprawling text posts, mismatched fonts that he couldnât help but grimace at, and occasionally not so safe for work fanart.
âWoah.. the lack of moderation here is rather alarming.â He furrowed his brows at the screen, pushing his glasses further up his nose bridge.
âLow on adult pointsâŠâ he spoke to himself as he typed out your username, admittedly embarrassed that he still remembers it even after two weeks of your surgery. But something about your little proud, lop sided smile got to him, and there he was, clicking on your account.
âOh, she writes.â He nodded his head a couple of times, and got off the couch.
He placed the towel in the hamper, and went to grab a handful of almonds for a late night snack.
He was seated again, slowly munching on his almonds as he went through your account.
Stories. Lots of written stories.
Zayne had to admit, you had a talent for making the reader immersed in your writing. So immersed that it was 11:58 PM already, and Zayne was wondering whether the main characters in your story will end up together.
It was past midnight, and he was still scrolling through your posts. âA request?â His ears twitched slightly, and he straightened up as he came to the revelation.
He could request things for you to write.
He sank once again into his couch, his head falling back.
Should heâŠ
And just like that, the doctor found himself creating an account, and clicking on your âslide into my asks ;)â button.
Hello. I have to say that you are rather talented, and your writing is exceptional in its own way. That being said, may i please request a story where a patient falls in love with her doctor? Feel free to work around with the details.
Thank you in advance, and have a great day.
He made sure to toggle on the âask anonymouslyâ button, and as he was about to click âaskâ, he hesitated.
âWhat is wrong with me.â He shook his head at himself, in slight amusement but mostly in absurdity.
His fingers hovered over the mouse, and the cursor in turn over the âaskâ button.
This was a line, a professional boundary that he was preparing to cross with a single click.
Yet he clicked.
He stared at the screen in slight panic.
Oh well, it was too late anyways.
He closed the laptop, and headed to bed still unable to get what happened out of his mind.
He downloaded the app on his phone and logged in, refreshing the page on your account every other second to see whether you replied to his request.
A thousand refresh attempts later, Zayne drifted to sleep with his phone still in hand.
âOh why hello anon!! First of all, why so formal XD you might have as well just emailed me and added best regards, anon from tumblr.
And second of all, OMG ANON YOU HAVE NO IDEA THIS PROMPT IS LITERALLY SOMETHING I EXPERIENCED FIRST HAND ISTG. So so i had a surgery like two weeks ago (and yes im fine now thank you!) and when i tell you the doctor looked delicious. I couldâve married him right then and there.
He was the perfect mixture of hot but doesnât know it and awkward but funny af.
Aah anon what can i say, your wish is my command ;)â
Zayne stared at the reply for a good minute.
It was too early. 7:32 AM.
It was too early to register that he was just called hot.
Delicious, in fact.
That whatever he felt was reciprocated.
âDelicious?â He spoke to no one but himself, flattered but confused.
Zayne had not expected the prompt to be written so fast, because there he was in his office post lunch, but yet there it was, the only post on his feed.
âHealing Heartsâ. He cracked the smallest of smiles, appreciating how this subtly referenced him being a cardiac surgeon.
Zayne found himself forgetting how to breathe in certain moments while reading the story, realizing that it was him you were describing.
Realizing that he wasnât just a muse for the plot, but for the character as well.
It was undoubtedly him, with the dark hair and the hazel eyes.
The black shirt beneath his white robe and his silver glasses.
And he wondered if to you, he seemed as breathtaking in reality as you described him in your writing.
He was just done with reading your piece when a soft knock was heard on his office door.
âDr Li, Miss y/n is here for her scheduled post-surgery check up!â
He gulped, tensing upon hearing your name.
There was no way you could tell, was there?
âOf course. Come in.â He managed in his typical monotonous voice, professional mannerism seemingly unbroken.
But that was only for those who didnât know.
And no one knew.
âMiss y/n, how are you feeling today?â He smiled; however this time it wasnât practiced like for the rest of the patients. It was genuine.
âDr Li! Iâm feeling much better lately!â
His eyes lingered a moment too long on you and found himself smiling despite himself.
It was then Zayne decided that asking another request for âa patient getting a check up post surgery with her secret crush doctorâ didnât sound too bad after all.
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who pretends heâs annoyed when you insist on wearing a cute little skirts, or hair bows around the apartment, but secretly loves seeing you twirl in front of him.
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who makes pancakes for you on lazy mornings, but carefully arranges them with little hearts and berries because he knows itâll make you smile.
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who raises an eyebrow every time you show up in ruffles, lace, or bowsââisnât that a little much just for the grocery store?ââbut still stands close enough that people know youâre with him.
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who doesnât get why you need three different shades of pink lip gloss, but will quietly buy you the one you ran out of, leaving it on your desk with a muttered, âyou forgot this.â
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who teases you when you get excited about glitter or matching accessories, but if anyone else makes a snide comment, his voice goes flat as he shuts them down in seconds.
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who pretends heâs embarrassed when you cling to his arm in your frilly skirts, but always angles his body toward you so you donât trip or bump into anyone.
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who sighs whenever you ask him to take outfit pictures, but lines up the shots perfectly, handing your phone back with a quiet, âthese should be fine.â
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who acts like he doesnât care when you decorate his phone case with cute stickers, but never replaces itâeven months later.
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who teases you about your pastel nails, calling them âimpractical,â then absentmindedly holds your hand during movies and traces each color with his thumb.
â§Ë°. bf!kei tsukishima who calls you âprincessâ in the most sarcastic voice possible⊠except sometimes it slips out softer, and he hopes you donât notice.
Summary: A mission she had to do has forced her to pick a choice, Sylus in all his anger says what shouldn't not have been said.
Continuation of this
Word count: 3k
Tags: angst, hurt, crying, the twins injured.
Part 2
The door slammed open, the sound cracking through the heavy quiet of Sylusâs office. Papers rustled on his desk, lights flickered. He didnât even look up at firstâhis jaw was clenched, the veins in his hands straining against his skin. The air was thick with fury, and when he finally raised his eyes, it was like a storm had found its voice.
âYou really thought I wouldnât find out?â His tone was low, almost calm, but it shook with restrained rage. âThat Iâd simply accept that the twins almost died and move on? You went with those hunters knowing what could happen to themâto my kids. To your family.â
She took a step forward, her voice unsteady. âSylus, please. I didnât wantââ
âEnough.â His voice cut through hers like a blade. âYou had a choice. You could have saved them. You could have called for help. But you stayed. You stayed with those vultures because the protocol mattered more. The mission mattered more. Did you think I couldnât have obtained it for you? Do you truly believe thereâs anything I wouldnât have done if you had just asked?â
âIt wasnât that simple,â she said quietly. âIf I had actedââ
He slammed his hand on the desk. The sound echoed. âDonât say that. Donât hide behind excuses. You made your choice, and you chose them over usâover meâover them, who would have laid down their lives for you without a second thought. Have you already forgotten how they dragged you out of that ambush while you couldnât even stand?â
Her breath caught. She tried to reach across the desk, her hand trembling. âI didnât forget.â
âThen why?â His voice broke through her words. âWhy did you let them bleed while you stood there, trying to play savior for the wrong side? You still think yourself righteous, donât you? The hunter who never bends a rule. You wanted to prove youâre not one of usâthat youâre better. That they deserved what happened.â
âThatâs not true!â Her voice cracked as tears slipped free. âI wanted to protect everyoneâyou, them, the city. I thought if I could end it fasterâif I could stop them from using the protocol againââ
âDonât lie to me.â He stepped around the desk, the sound of his boots heavy against the floor. âYou hesitated. I saw the footage. They screamed for you, and you stayed. You stayed because saving them meant exposing what you areâwhat we are. And that terrified you more than losing them.â His words were sharp, but his eyes betrayed the ache beneath them. âTell me Iâm wrong.â
Her words came out fragile, trembling. âI couldnât risk everything falling apart. If I had revealed myself, they would have taken me away. They would have come for you. I thought I was protecting us. I thoughtââ
âEverything?â His voice deepened, quieter, yet cruel in its precision. âYou mean your spotless reputation? Your moral high ground? Because it certainly wasnât the people whoâve been breaking themselves to keep you safe.â He came closer until the space between them was unbearable. âYou still see us as monsters. You can deny it all you want, but I see it in your eyes every time you hesitate. You look at Luke, at Kieran, at meâand all you see are things to hide. To contain. To pity.â
âStop,â she whispered, reaching for his hand. But his fingers closed around her wrist before she could touch him. His grip was firm, not cruel, but enough to make her breath hitch.
âYou donât get to tell me to stop,â he said, his voice low, shaking. âYou donât get to act like youâre the one wounded here. You put them in those beds. And now you come here, looking for understanding, thinking if you sound sorry enough, Iâll forgive you.â A bitter laugh escaped him, hollow. âYou truly donât understand what youâve done.â
âI didnât mean for this to happen,â she whispered, her eyes shining. âI thought I was doing the right thing. I thought saving the protocol meant saving you. You think I didnât see them fall? You think it didnât destroy me? I see it every time I close my eyes.â
His face softened for a heartbeatâthen hardened again. âYou never mean it, but it happens anyway. And this time, it cost me the only family I had left.â
She took a step forward. âSylusââ
He struck the desk with his palm, the sound deafening. âDonât say my name.â His voice was hoarse, strained, cracking beneath the weight of his own words. âI canât even look at you without wanting to break something. You chose a protocol over them. Over everything we built.â
He turned away, his shoulders trembling as he exhaled a shaking breath. âLeave. Before I say something I canât take back.â
Silence filled the room. Her wrist still ached where his fingers had held her, the imprint of his touch burning into her skin. The air between them was suffocating, dense with all the things they couldnât say.
She looked at him one last time, her voice breaking as she whispered, âYou already did.â
He froze. The words struck him like a blade, but he didnât move, didnât speak. She stepped back, the sound of her retreat soft against the floor. When the door closed, it was barely a sound at allâbut it echoed long after she was gone.
The office was silent now, but the silence was unbearable. The kind that screamed in the back of the mind. Sylus sat behind his desk, head bowed, fingers tangled in his hair. The city lights bled through the window, fractured across the floor in broken shapesâlike everything else tonight.
He had told her to leave. He had watched her walk out, shoulders trembling, and said nothing to stop her. Now the image of her faceâthe disbelief, the hurtâlooped in his mind like a punishment he deserved.
But what haunted him most wasnât her face. It was theirs.
He had seen the footage too many times already. The twinsâLuke and Kieranâcornered, bleeding, calling her name. Their voices cracked through the comms, desperate. And she⊠she turned. He could still see it. The second she hesitated, her eyes flicking back toward them, then away, running after the criminals who carried the stolen protocol. The moment she chose dutyâor fearâover them.
He clenched his fists, his knuckles white. âWhy werenât you there,â he whispered to himself, voice rough. âWhy the hell werenât you there.â
He slammed a fist against the desk, the sound sharp and hollow. Every breath hurt. His mind replayed every word heâd thrown at herâeach one sharper than the last. You see us as monsters. You chose a protocol over them.
The memory of her eyes when he said it burned him. He hadnât meant to say those things, not like that. But the sight of the twins unconscious, pale, hooked to machinesâit tore something out of him. Heâd been afraid. Terrified. Not just for them, but for her too. He knew what fear did, how it poisoned every decision. And yet he had turned his fear into anger, flinging it at the one person he loved most.
He pressed his palms to his eyes, trying to shut out the memories, but they wouldnât fade. Her trembling hand reaching for him. His fingers tightening around her wrist. The sound of her whisperâYou already did.
He stood abruptly, pacing across the room, unable to sit still. The walls felt too close. Every step echoed with regret. He wanted to go after her, to tell her he didnât mean it, that he understoodâbut the words wouldnât come. They never did when they mattered.
He stopped by the window, staring at the city below. Somewhere out there, she was walking alone, and he was here, drowning in the ruins of his own anger.
The streets were quiet, washed in pale neon and soft drizzle. She walked without seeing, arms wrapped around herself as though that might hold her together. Her steps echoed faintly, the sound lost in the hum of the city. Each breath came uneven, fragile.
Tears blurred the world around herâstreetlights became streaks of gold, the wet pavement glimmering like distant stars. She didnât bother to wipe them away. What was the point? They kept coming, like they had been waiting for this moment to break free.
She thought of his voiceâthe way it trembled with rage, the way he looked at her as if she were a stranger. The way she couldnât explain fast enough, couldnât make him understand that she had chosen what she thought would save him. That she hadnât wanted to hurt anyone, least of all him.
But it didnât matter anymore. She had done it. She had finally ruined the one thing that had ever felt real in her life.
Her thoughts chased each other like ghostsâI shouldâve gone to them. I shouldâve stayed. I shouldâve told him the truth sooner. Each one heavier than the last. The rain picked up, soaking through her clothes, but she barely felt it. It almost felt fittingâto walk beneath a sky that couldnât stop crying either.
She reached her door eventually, the small apartment that had once felt safe now colder than ever. She closed the door behind her, pressing her back to it, her fingers trembling. The silence pressed in from every direction. And in that silence, she could still hear him.
You donât get to act like youâre the victim here.
Her knees gave out, and she slid down to the floor, her arms tightening around herself. The world blurred again. All she could see was his faceâthe fury, the pain, the disappointment. The moment she realized sheâd lost him.
For a long time, she stayed like that, listening to the rain tapping against the window, whispering the same truth over and over.
She had no one to blame but herself.
The next morning was coldly quiet.
Empty of the usual sweet voicemails he loved to hear right after waking up. Empty of the caws of the crow that perched by her window every dawn, checking if she was awake yet. Empty of the twinsâ messagesâthose endless, ridiculous videos and memes they sent all night instead of sleeping or working. The silence was unbearable, a kind that gnawed through the walls and settled deep into his chest.
It felt like the morning after her familyâs deathâthe same heavy quiet, the same raw realization of loss. Only this time, the grief wasnât forced upon her by fate. This time, it was her doing. There was no one to blame, no cruel twist of destinyâonly her choices, her hesitation, her fear.
And Sylus remained by that same window as he had the night before. His eyes were fixed on the city belowâthe city he had fought to keep under control, the one he had reshaped in the shadows so that she could live safely within it. He had done it all for her. Every calculated risk, every deal, every sacrificeâevery single one was for her.
How had it all fallen apart overnight? How could something they had built with such care and trust crumble so easily? He wondered if their foundation had been too fragile from the start, if what they shared had only seemed unbreakable because theyâd never truly tested it until now.
The thought hollowed him out.
He had always believed love could survive anythingâdistance, danger, even bloodshed. But this⊠this betrayal born of fearâit made him question everything.
He pressed a hand against the cold glass, his reflection staring back at him with tired, red-rimmed eyes. âAre we really done?â he whispered, though no one could hear him.
His mind replayed the way her voice cracked, the tears that had trembled in her eyes. The way sheâd whispered that he already said something he couldnât take back. He wanted to believe he could fix it, but he didnât even know where to start.
Meanwhile, somewhere across the city, she sat on her bed with the phone in her hands, the screen still lit with old messages she couldnât bring herself to delete. Her chest felt heavy, her body numb. Every sound outside felt distant, muffledâlike the world had already decided to move on without her.
Her thoughts drifted to himâto that window she knew he always stood by when deep in thought. Maybe he was there now, watching the sunrise, just as she was watching it through her own window. The same light touching two broken people in different corners of the same city.
She whispered his name into the quiet. No reply came. Just the slow hum of a world indifferent to their pain.
And so the day beganânot with love, or laughter, or the warmth of routineâbut with silence. The kind that promised nothing would ever be quite the same again.
The door to the office creaked open slowly, letting in a thin line of morning light. Luke leaned against the frame, his weight uneven, his breath still shallow from the damage he hadnât yet recovered from.
Sylus didnât turn. He stood at the tall window again, the same way he had all night â unmoving, watching the city through tired eyes. The skyline was pale with dawn, the towers still wrapped in fog. His reflection in the glass looked like a stranger.
Lukeâs voice broke the silence, low and uncertain.
âYou havenât slept, have you?â
Sylus didnât answer.
Luke stepped forward, his limp soft but audible. The faint scrape of his crutch against the floor filled the room. âKieranâs resting. The medics say heâll be fine in a few days. We were lucky.â
Still nothing.
Luke sighed, shifting his weight. âI checked her place. She wasnât there.â He hesitated before adding, âDid she come here?â
Sylusâs hand clenched against the window frame. âShe was here.â
Luke blinked. âYesterday?â
A small nod.
âAnd?â
âI told her to leave.â
The words hung heavy in the room, like smoke that wouldnât clear.
Luke frowned. âYou what?â
Sylus turned slightly then, just enough for Luke to see the exhaustion carved into his features. âI told her to leave, Luke.â His voice cracked halfway through, too rough to sound like his own.
Lukeâs brows furrowed, disbelief turning to quiet hurt. âWhy would you do that? After everythingââ
âI donât know,â Sylus cut him off, shaking his head. âI donât know what happened. I wanted to ask her why she did it, why she didnât save you, why she ran after that damned protocol when she could haveââ His breath hitched. âWhen she could have chosen you.â
Lukeâs jaw tightened, but his tone stayed calm. âShe didnât have a choice.â
âShe always had a choice.â
âNo,â Luke said softly. âNot this time.â
Sylus looked away again, eyes tracing the faint cracks in the glass. âYou didnât see the footage,â he whispered. âI keep seeing it. You both were calling for her. And she turned away. She ran. I canât unsee it.â
Lukeâs voice wavered. âYou think she wanted that? You think it didnât kill her too?â
âShe couldâve called for help,â Sylus said, his voice sharper now, desperate. âShe couldâve signaled me, she couldâveâanything.â
Luke exhaled slowly, walking closer. âAnd if she had, and the protocol got away? You'd still be angry she harmed herself and yet not obtained what she wanted.â
âIsnât it?â Luke interrupted, his tone suddenly colder. âYouâre angry because you care. Because you donât know how to handle what she did, or why she did it.â
He stepped closer, close enough to see the trembling in Sylusâs hand. âBut thisââ his voice softened again, ââthis isnât you. The bossman I know wouldnât push her away for choosing to live through something he couldnât control.â
Sylus turned sharply, eyes dark with something between guilt and pride. âDonât talk like you understand.â
Luke didnât flinch. âI do. I was there.â He gestured toward his leg, the bruises barely hidden beneath the fabric. âAnd even now, Iâd tell you to go find her and apologize.â
Sylusâs eyes flickered, conflicted.
Luke lowered his voice. âShe was out there fighting for us. We made it harder for her by showing up. Itâs not her fault we got hurt.â
Sylus shook his head. âDonât do that. Donât excuse her.â
Luke stared at him, bewildered. âExcuse her? Sylus, sheâsâsheâs her. You used toââ He stopped himself, swallowing. âYou used to make it seem like she was the only thing keeping this place human.â
Sylus didnât answer.
Lukeâs tone softened, but it carried weight. âNot everyone can make the same choices you do. You never asked Kieran or me to pick between our lives and Onychinus. You canât expect her to either.â
A long silence followed, broken only by the quiet hum of the city below.
Sylusâs voice came low, almost to himself. âShe made her choice.â
Luke looked at him for a long moment, something breaking behind his eyes. âSo did you,â he said finally.
He turned toward the door, his limp heavier than when heâd come in. At the threshold, he paused and added quietly, âIf you wait too long to fix this, she wonât believe you when you finally try.â
Then he left, leaving the door half open. The light from the hallway cut a sharp line across the floor, reaching the place where Sylus still stood, unmoving â a man surrounded by everything he built to protect someone heâd just driven away.
She lay on her back, staring at the ceiling. The sunlight slipping through the curtains felt pale and thin, like it had lost its warmth overnight. The clock ticked somewhere behind her, but she couldnât remember if it was morning or closer to noon. Everything felt slow â like the world had gone on without her.
Her phone buzzed beside her pillow. For a second, she didnât move. Then she turned her head and blinked at the screen.
Luke.
The message was a photo â a blurry selfie of him grinning, hair a mess, one hand giving a thumbs-up. Beside him, Kieran lay half-asleep, one arm slung over his face like he was trying to block out the light.
The caption read:
"Still alive. Barely. How are you holding up?"
Her throat tightened. For a moment she just stared at their faces â bruised, pale, but alive. Relief hurt more than it healed.
She angled her phone away, wiped her eyes quickly, and flipped the camera. Her reflection stared back: eyes swollen, cheeks blotchy. She smiled anyway â just her lips, nothing more â and raised two fingers in a lazy peace sign. She took the photo from below, cropping out everything above her nose, and sent it.
Then she typed:
"Just being lazy in bed."
The reply came fast.
"Too lazy to come visit your poor, wounded friends?"
A small laugh slipped out before it turned into something quieter, heavier. The guilt came flooding back, raw and bitter. Her thumbs hesitated over the keyboard.
"If you heal faster, Iâll take you both out for a meal," she wrote.
A pause. Three dots blinked on the screen, stopped, then blinked again.
"Deal," came the message. Then another.
"Iâm sorry, you know. We made your mission harder. Shouldâve stayed out of it."
Her heart clenched. She sat up slowly, back against the headboard, the blanket still tangled around her legs. For a while she just stared at the message, her vision blurring again.
Then she typed,
"Nothingâs more important than you two. I hope you know that."
It took longer for the next message to arrive.
"We do," Luke wrote. "Always have."
She smiled, but it felt like breaking glass. Her fingers hovered over the screen, wanting to say more â to ask if heâd seen Sylus, to ask what heâd said, to ask if she could fix any of this. But the words wouldnât come.
So she put the phone down beside her, curled onto her side, and let the unread silence stretch on â one heartbeat at a time.
The mission had drained her to the bone. The metallic tang of dust still hung in the air, and her hands trembled slightly as she lowered her weapon. The system failure had pulled her out of bed that morning, out of the quiet ache she'd been trying to drown in sleep. She hadnât expected to end the day like this â standing in the ruins of a half-collapsed structure, her breath shallow, her heart too tired to keep fighting.
A sudden crash echoed behind her. Instinct turned her around, weapon raised. The hulking body of a monster fell to the ground, its last growl dying in the dust. And behind it â
Sylus.
He stood there in the half-light, gun still smoking, his coat marked with ash and blood. For a moment, they only stared at each other. The air between them was thick with the ghosts of everything unsaid.
âYou look tired,â he said at last, his voice low, rough, and quieter than she remembered.
âYou sound surprised.â Her voice came softer, but steady enough. The faintest curve of irony touched her lips â not a smile, just habit.
He holstered his weapon, his eyes never leaving her. Then, slowly, he walked toward her. Every step felt heavier than the last. When he reached her, he didnât speak again. He just reached for her hand, the motion hesitant, as if expecting her to pull away.
She didnât. Not yet. Her gaze flicked between his eyes and his fingers, the familiar warmth of his glove brushing against her skin. Her heart caught in her throat when he finally took her hand in his â firm, grounding, like heâd been waiting too long to do it.
âI want to talk,â he said. âIf youâll let me.â
She said nothing. Just watched him â watched the exhaustion beneath his eyes, the quiet plea behind his calm tone. There was no anger left between them, not now, only a weariness that neither of them could hide.
He didnât let go of her hand as he led her out of the ruined sector. The streets were mostly empty, the wind carrying the smell of rain. They walked in silence, neither of them daring to speak first, afraid that any word might reopen what had barely begun to heal.
He stopped before a small, quiet house â one of his, she guessed. The lights inside were dim, untouched. He pushed the door open for her.
âCome in,â he said, voice gentler this time. âWeâll talk here.â
She stepped past him, the warmth of the place a stark contrast to the cold air outside. He closed the door softly behind them, the sound final, like the drawing of a breath before everything else could begin again.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just stood there â two people who had once been everything to each other, now standing on the fragile edge between forgiveness and distance.
horny demons are eating my brain again,,so all i can think of is fem!snowcrowmc where zayneâs riding your face as sylus fucks you from behind with a strap on,,,goodnight đââïžđ
âCome here,â he husks, rolling onto his back, never breaking that sleepy eye contact. âYouâre warm and I want you.â
âSylus, I have to get some work done. As much as Iâd love to work for Onychinus, I donât know how to translate âcriminalâ for a resume.â
IsâŠis he pouting now?
âItâs cold and lonely without you.â Just to be more of a shit than usual, he stretches like a satisfied feline, the blanket conveniently slipping further down his waist to reveal a tempting dusting of hair.
âYouâre an asshole, you know that?â you whisper, though it turns to a laugh as you walk over to the bed into his arms, anyway.
this isnât really my laneâŠ. BUT⊠riding zayne while he tips his head back off the side of the bed and lets sylus throat fuck himâŠ.
iâm hc in this moment zayne doesnât have a gag reflex so sylus doesnât hold back, heâll push his cock all the way to the back of zaynes throat, balls pressed to his nose, while he leans over and makes out with you, rubbing ur clit with his thumb as he encourages u to ride zayne faster
i donât think sylus would cum down his through tho, i think he would pull out at the last second and cum all over zaynes face while both you and zayne find your pleasure, riding it out together
tell me u canât see zaynes =.= unimpressed face looking up at sylus with a face covered in cum. sylus is such a meanie too, heâd just smirk and slap zaynes cheek, saying, âyou look good like that, doctor.â
MDNI 18+ ă Squirting for the first time ft. Toji
You tell him without meaning to, blurted out between the kisses and his hands palming your tits and the thoughts running rampant through your head as you fumble to explain yourself before he finds out the way everyone else has.
âIâm not always.. reactive,â you admit, cheeks hot, eyes on the rumpled sheets instead of him. âLike, the guys Iâve been with before, um.. it doesnât always feel like much, for me. Any of it.â
Itâs embarrassing. Like youâre apologizing in advance.
Toji just leans back, scar tugging when his lips curl. His gaze pins you in place, all steady and unbothered.
âThat so?â He hums, gravelly. âGood thing Iâve got patience.â
Your stomach flips.
Then his hand is between your thighs, big palm cupping you through your panties like heâs claiming your cunt. He strokes over the fabric, slow and heavy, pushing it against your folds and spreading out the damp patch until youâre writhing under the weight of it. And when his fingers finally push the cotton to the side and meet your bare skin, your breath hitches.
Toji smirks without looking up, two languid digits spreading your folds wide. âNot reactive, huh?â
You want to deny it. Stammer out some sort of excuse. But then his thumb grazes your clit â barely any pressure, just a brush â and your hips twitch hard enough that he chuckles. A deep, amused sound, rumbling from his chest.
âYeah. Sure, baby.â
Toji doesnât give you the usual fast, frantic rhythm. That feeling of needing to get past the foreplay â which is usually what you hate, but right now, you secretly crave it.
No. Instead, Toji takes his time. He teases. His thick fingers trace up and down your puffy folds, spreading your slick around, pressing just enough to keep you hovering. And every time you rock your hips, searching for more, he eases back. Dragging the sensation out until your thighs are trembling from pent up tension.
When he finally pushes a finger inside, itâs slow. Deliberate. He stretches you out gradually, curiously, curls upward until he finds that spot that makes your breath hitch and your hands fly to his shoulders.
âAhâ Toji, waitââ
âWait?â
He feigns innocence, but the corner of his mouth lifts. He curls his finger again, pressing against your walls, rubbing over that spot steadily. âFeeling it, arenât you?â
You nod through a whimper, walls fluttering around him.
Then he adds a second finger, filling you up and stretching you out as he spreads the two apart within your cunt. Working up a rhythm â long, deep strokes, followed by shallow, quick thrusts â keeping you just on the edge. And every time you start to climb up to something, sharp and ascending and desperate, he slows. Grinds the heel of his palm into your clit without quite enough pressure, forcing you to buck against him, whining.
Itâs unbearable. Too much and somehow not enough, over and over and over until your body aches with it, every nerve lit.
âToji, pleeease, Iâ fuck! I canâtââ
âYes you can,â he muses, pressing a kiss to your temple like heâs soothing you. With his fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and pistoning in and out. âHold it in, baby. Donât cum yet.â
You cry out, tears pricking. From the sharp denial, from how raw and overwhelming and strange it feels to be this sensitive all of a sudden. Every stroke drags lightning through your cunt, makes your stomach flutter like youâre about to break.
And then â without warning â he changes.
His fingers sink in deep and curl, grinding against that spot, relentless, thumb rolling over your clit with enough pressure to have your toes curling.
Your body quivers. And then your legs kick like reflex, a broken cry ripping out as you crash into your high â followed by a sudden rush of wetness, gushing out all messy and uncontrollable, soaking his hand and the sheets beneath you. Your vision whites out, a faint ringing in your ears as the world blurs.
You collapse against him. And he holds you through it, fingers pumping lazily in your spasming cunt, muscled arm wrapped around your waist like youâre something precious.
When you come to, you cling to him. Staring wide-eyed down at the soaked mess beneath you. âIâm sorry, I.. I donât know whatââ
Toji doesnât let you finish. Heâs grinning like a man starved, hair falling in a way that has his expression all hooded and dark, voice hoarse with hunger and an awed sense of adoration.
âThatâs you, sweetheart. Thatâs me making you squirt.â
He pulls his fingers free and watches the slick drip down his wrist before licking the digits clean, groaning low at the taste. Then theyâre pressing right back into your cunt, settling in like they belong there.
âFirst time, huh?â
His smirk sharpens when you offer a dazed little nod.
âHaha. Fucking knew it.â
Your bodyâs trembling, oversensitive, but he doesnât stop. Not now that heâs cracked you open.
âGonna do it again,â he hums against your throat, fingers working you back up with brutal steadiness. âMake you squirt, pretty girl. Gonna keep you right here âtil you learn how good you can cum for me.â
And you â mind muddled in a post-orgasmic daze, cunt fluttering around every merciless twist and thrust â believe him.
itâs what lures him to the kitchen where he finds you hunched over, producing a sound that could only be described as a grunt, whine and cry for help all garbled into one resounding sound of frustration.
âwhat are you getting up to so early in the morning, trouble?â he asks, teasing despite heavy, sleep-riddled eyes and sluggish arms that slither around your waist as he blindly kisses your neck.Â
âthis damn lid,â you huff, frustration seeping through your voice as you attempt to pop the lid off before eventually giving up and turning to face your boyfriend. âit wonât open.â
hajime readjusts, releasing you so his hands are planted on either side of you, placing you between himself and the counter.
pausing for a second, his fond gaze sweeps across your features, a small part of him delighting at the silent plea behind your eyes. âoh dear,â he frowns, tilting his head in a show of faux worry, âhave you tried twisting it?â
âha ha. very funny, haji.â someone had clearly woken up in a playful mood. âiâm dying of laughter.â
deciding he didn't want to start the day off in your bad books, he takes the jar from you, opening it in one swift motion. "happy?"
scrunching your nose, you poke at his bicep. âugh, show off.âÂ
chuckling, he presses a quick kiss on your nose before proceeding to his next show of brute strength: grabbing you by your waist to plop you on the counter.Â
âjam toast?â he asks, even though he already knows the answer.Â
the instant upturn of your lips is all the confirmation he needs as he starts constructing the best jam toast known to man (in your completely unbiased opinion), humming along as you recount the silly dream you had.Â
âso i turned into a bird and grabbed you off the street to feed you to my kids?â
âyes.â you sulk, upset at dream bird hajime.Â
you watch as his shoulders shake from his laughter. âhere,â hajime presents you with your jam toast. âcan i make it up with this then?âÂ
taking a bite, you do a little dance in appreciation that has hajimeâs gaze softening and melting like the lovesick fool he is.Â
midway through, you catch him smiling a bit too hard so you decide it's time to get playful back. clearing your throat, you get ready to deliver your verdict.
âhmm, iâm not sure this is cutting it.â
hajime lets out a laugh. âoh yeah?â he grins, inviting himself into your personal space. âwhat about now?â he tries, lips barely grazing your skin as he leaves a kiss on your shoulder. "can you forgive dream me now?"
the jam toast is long forgotten as your hands find themselves wound around your boyfriendâs neck. âi think you could do better.â
your words don't stutter but your breath does and it makes his grin stretch wider.
slowly, his kisses travel across your shoulder and up your neck. âand now?â he asks.Â
not trusting your voice, you give a small shake of your head.Â
âhmm,â hajime noses along your jaw before capturing your lips for the daintiest of kisses. "any closer to forgiveness?"
you don't know who you're forgiving and for what anymore. all you can do is tangle your fingers into his hair, signalling your desire but you end up whining out his name in protest when he pulls back instead.Â
âthat doesn't answer my question, baby.âÂ
âgive me a kiss first.â you demand, pouting. âa proper one.â
itâs all he needs to hear to eliminate the remaining space between you two. Â
an: i tried my hand at a longer fic for the first time!! please me nice to me >.<
It was a horrid missionâ something in the middle of nowhere, little to no information about the wanderer you were sent out to fight, just an absolute MESS of a mission. You didnât tell Sylus, of course you didnât, just vaguely stated that you would be out on a mission for a week and that he shouldnât worry too much about it.
Of course, he was never one to listen, he was worried, hell you told him nothing about this little mission of yours. It was driving him crazy would be an understatement. You told him not to call, you wouldnât have had any reception in the middle of nowhere anyway.
He was antsy about it tooâLuke and Kieran could clearly tell, âitâs okay boss-man! boss-lady will be back in no time!â is what they tried to tell him, he could hardly pay attention without you being around.
âSweetieâŠtext me when you canâ
âmiss hunter, youâre killing me here yâknow? whatever happened to being partners in crime, kitten?â
â[voice note]: kitten, youâve chipped away at my pride, I miss you, dearly, you should just join onychinus, youâre much better off here boss-ladyâ
~
The mission happened to go southâreally, REALLY quickly. Itâd been a hard week, you were all up in your head and it justâŠmight have cost you the mission. The wanderer was just..a lot stronger than you anticipated it to be. Now look at where it got you? A direct hit right near your stomach. A couple stitches and a disgusting amount of bandages later, it seemed all fixed up.
When you were FINALLY out the place, itâd been a week and god that took everything out of you, and all the paperwork you were gonna have to finish would kill you before the stupid injury did and fuck, did it hurt. Before you could even think about reporting to the hunterâs association you found yourself driving directly to the n109 zone.
He would absolutely end you for this and before you knew it, there you wereâright in front of his ridiculous mansion, with bandages wrapped around your waist, blood soaked and absolutely disgusting looking, but oh well. Right at his doorstep, even before you could even lift your fist up to knock at the door, there he was in all his ridiculously handsome glory. The smug look that he had on immediately washing off his face the second he saw the way you were clutching your stomach.
He was justâŠso pretty.
âSweetie what happenedâ whatâs all of this?â
âHm? You worried about me boss-man?â
Now was probably the worst time to try and tease him but god, anything to alleviate the pain. Before you could think of another snarky remark to make about his jaw ticking, he had you in his arms, bridal carry and all, his eyes filled with so much care you could almost cry.
You winced slightly and he loosened his grip, laying you down with such tenderness onto your bed, unwrapping the bandages, calling for luke and kieran to bring in first aid immediately.
âOh Sylus, Iâm a hunter I can handle myself yâknow, if ya keep looking at me like that youâll make me think youâre in love with me or something.â
All he could do was let out a humourless laugh, while he continued to dress the wounds with care youâve never seen before.
âYou leave for a week with no warning and show up injured at my door, sweetie, what was I supposed to think huh? You should already know that I adore you, maybe I should remind you of justâŠhow much.â
You could just FEEL the embarrassment creeping into your face the second he said that, and when you finally looked down, to really look at him kneeling between your legs, his eyes almost glassy, his jaw held spring-tight and with the way he was looking at you as if you were the only thing that ever mattered. His other half, his soulâhis stare just piercing right through you.
âAh..geez you canât just go around saying stuff like that Sylus, youâll make me think youâre secretly a sap.â
âI mean it.â
And for a moment, all there was, was silence. It was heavy, not in an uncomfortable wayâjust in a way that was looming over the room, the sort of silence between two people whoâve been dancing over the edge of a knife around each other, inching closer and closer but not close enough to break the inevitable tension they carried.
That was all it was. Until he pressed a soft kiss to your calf, slowly reaching out his hand to yours and pressing a gentle kiss to your palms.
âDonât do that again, please.â
All you could do now was giggle. It was endearing, really watching this greek statue of a man kneel before you, touch your wounds with such eerie gentleness youâve never felt before, pressing soft kisses on your skin like heâs been doing it all his life.
Before he could lose himself right there, he carried you back up only to lay you back down on his sheets and to call the chef to make something for you, and before you could think any further youâd already fallen asleep. The way he seemed to want to kiss your pain away, the gentleness in the way he carried you, the way everything he did seemed like second nature to himâmaybe, just maybe youâll start to believe that heâs half your soul too. He has been for a while now. You were just too afraid to admit it to yourself, and oh, how silly that sounds because heâs been half your soul for longer than youâd like to admit.
Oh? Luke and Kieran watched it all unfold beautifully before them. The two of you were the closest thing they had to parents and god, were you guys the greatest there had ever been. They made sure to wake you up to tons of cool gadgets to use too!
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