After the D.S.O intercept a message from an unkown new organization, they conclude that Luis Sera's life may be in danger, to protect him they assigned Leon as his bodyguard.
Nipple predicament (smut, obviously)
After overworking herself to the point of being injure, Sylus force MC to take a vacation with him while she heals, little does he knows that his precious kitten has some plan for him and.. His nipple ?
"love, no... don't go," nanami rasped, voice low still laced with sleep. his breath tickled the back of your neck as he spoke. the hold of his hand around your waist was somehow tighter, even after when you thought you couldn't possibly get any closer than this; your back on his chest without any space in between.
"let me gooo, i want to make my coffee," you whined softly, the tone made it apparent that you couldn't hold a smile at the sight of your usual collected man being so clingy. provoking him further, you once more tried to release the grasp of his hand on your stomach. the man responded with a disapproving grunt, the vibration from his lips against your skin made you shiver.
"stay, please. i'll make it for you later," he pleaded, trailing lazy kisses along your shoulder blade in hope to get you stay in bed, going as far as bringing his leg over both of yours, practically keeping you in his embrace. you chuckled.
"but i want it now," you replied, yet despite those words you couldn't help but put your hand on his cheek, seeing how the blond nuzzled closer to it, chasing the contact like a cat basking under the attention.
"not yet," he murmured, doubling down by gently turning you over, bringing you closer as you rested your head on his chest. you caved under his relentless touch, both his arms folded snugly behind your back. nanami wore a satisfied smile, like he just achieved something great. "i need another hour of this. of you."
"didn't know i'll be held hostage in some mornings when i went into this marriage," you teased, the comfort of his warm hug made you abandon the scheme you never planned to follow through. your fingers made their way to draw random patterns on the navy shirt he was wearing.
he caught your digits, planting a soft kiss at the back of your hand, "and you promised to accept me as i am in your vow, so i'm afraid you'll have to put up with this for the rest of your life."
The first time Kento Nanami falls asleep on you, itâs entirely by accident.
One minute heâs sitting beside you on the couch, still half-dressed in his work clothes, listening to you talk about something neither of you will remember tomorrow.
The next, his head is resting against your shoulder.
Still.
Heavy.
Warm.
You stop mid-sentence.
Nanami doesnât fall asleep around people.
Not fully. Not deeply. Not without one eye open to the possibility of disaster.
But here?
With you?
His breathing evens out almost instantly.
The television glows softly across the apartment, washing gold over the sharp lines of his face. Without the constant tension pulling at him, he looks younger somehow. Less like the man who carries entire city blocks worth of grief on his back.
More like someone who was meant to be loved gently.
You stare at him for a long moment before carefully brushing a strand of blond hair away from his forehead.
He doesnât wake.
Thatâs what gets you.
Not the affection. Not even the closeness.
The trust.
Kento Nanami trusts you enough to be unconscious in your presence.
The realization settles in your chest with startling weight.
You lower the volume on the TV.
A few minutes later, he shifts slightly, brow furrowing as though heâs trying to wake himself back up on instinct alone.
âSorry,â he mumbles, voice thick with exhaustion. âDidnât mean to-â
âDonât apologize.â
His eyes crack open slowly.
You smile. Soft. Quiet.
âGo back to sleep.â
Nanami looks at you for a long moment after that. Like heâs searching for something in your expression. Permission, maybe. Assurance.
Then he exhales.
And the tension leaves him all over again.
âYouâre warm,â he murmurs absently, already half-asleep.
You laugh under your breath. âThatâs romantic.â
âHm.â
âWas that your attempt at flirting?â
A sleepy pause.
âYes.â
Itâs so sincere you nearly melt on the spot.
Because thatâs the thing no one tells you about loving Kento Nanami.
He isnât flashy about it.
He doesnât shower you in grand declarations or overwhelming displays of affection. Love, to him, exists in consistency. In reliability. In every tiny thing he remembers without needing to be asked.
The exact way you take your coffee.
Which side of the bed you prefer.
How you unconsciously reach for him in your sleep.
He loves in observations.
In quiet persistence.
In staying.
Your fingers move carefully through his hair, slow enough not to disturb him. His arm tightens around your waist instinctively, pulling you closer even asleep.
Outside, rain taps softly against the windows.
Inside, Nanami breathes against your neck, steady and deep.
Safe.
You think, suddenly, that this might be the most intimate thing youâve ever experienced.
Not sex.
Not passion.
Not desperation.
Just this impossibly capable man allowing himself to rest.
And maybe thatâs what love really is to Kento Nanami.
Not intensity.
Not chaos.
Just finally finding someone who makes the world feel quiet enough to sleep through.
choso is a firm believer that pretty girls like you shouldnât have to do anything.
itâs not something heâs ever said out loud, not in those exact words, but you see it in the way he kneels at your feet when your evening slippers are pinching, in the way his hands steady your ankles as he slides them off.Â
you see it in the careful, reverent way he unties the laces of your dress at night, his knuckles brushing your spine, his breath warm against the nape of your neck.
"cho, i can do that myself," you protest for the hundredth time, reaching for the hairbrush on your vanity. youâve just returned from a work dinner, your face aching from smiling, your scalp tender from the weight of your responsibilities.
"don't be like that," he says softly, taking the brush from your hand. heâs already behind you, his reflection meeting yours in the mirror. heâs wearing a simple black sweater now, his pigtails undone, but he still looks at you like youâre the only thing in the room worth seeing. "let me help you."
"youâre going to spoil me rotten," you murmur, but youâre already sinking back against him, your eyes drifting shut as he starts working the brush through your hair in slow, even strokes. the bristles scrape gently against your scalp and you make a small, involuntary sound of pleasure.
"thatâs the point," he says, his voice low. he sets the brush down and reaches for the cloth and cleansing oil. "you're too beautiful to even lift a finger, baby."
heâs wiping the rouge from your cheeks now, the kohl from your eyes. his touch is so gentle, so methodical, like heâs polishing something precious. you let him tilt your chin up, let him clean away the dayâs mask. when heâs done, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"cmon, bed." he commands. not harshlyânever harshlyâbut with the quiet authority of a man who knows exactly what you need.
you stand, your hand in his, and let him lead you to the mattress. he undresses you slowly, layer by layer, the silk pooling at your feet. when youâre down to your thin shift, he pulls back the covers and tucks you in like youâre something fragile.
"sleep," he whispers.
but you catch his wrist. youâre not sleepy. not anymore. the tiredness has shifted into something else, something warm and heavy low in your belly.
"stay," you plead.
he hesitates. "youâre tired."
"i want you," you clarify, your thumb stroking the inside of his wrist. "but iâm... iâm exhausted. butâ but i want youâ but i don't want to do anythingâ"
something dark flickers in his eyes. understanding. hunger. devotion.
"then donât," he says. he climbs onto the bed, fully clothed, and crawls up your body until heâs hovering over you. "donât do anything. donât even think. just let me make you feel good."
"chosoâ" you start, already feeling guilty, already reaching for the hem of his sweater.
he catches your hands and pins them gently above your head. his fingers twine with yours, pressing your palms into the pillow.
"no, sweetheart." he says, his mouth brushing your ear. his voice drops, rough and reverent. "you donât do the work. you never do the work. you just lay there, princess, and let me take care of you. let me please you. let meâ" he grinds his hips down, and you feel how hard he is, straining against the fabric of his trousers, and you gasp. "âlet me do everything."
he releases your hands only to finally pull his sweater over his head. you watch the muscles of his back shift in the warm light of your tablelamp, the old scars, the lean strength. when he turns back to you, heâs already unlacing his trousers, pushing them down, kicking them off.
he kneels between your thighs, his dark eyes raking over you. "open up," he murmurs, his hands sliding up your legs, pushing your shift higher. "be good for me, okay?"
you spread your legs, trembling. heâs already so hard, the pink tip flushed and wet, and he wraps his hand around himself, stroking once, twice, his eyes never leaving your face.
"you donât even have to move," he says, leaning down, caging you in his warmth. "iâll do all the work. iâll get you ready. iâll make you feel so good. all you have to do is look at me. can you do that for me, princess? can you let me love you?"
"yes," you breathe, your voice cracking. "yes, choso, pleaseâ"
he kisses you then, deep and filthy, his tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that makes your toes curl. his hand slips between your legs, his fingers finding you already wet, already aching. he doesnât make you ask, nor does he make you work for it. he just pushes two fingers inside you, curling them, stretching you open while his thumb circles your clit.
"thatâs it," he praises against your lips, feeling you clench around him. "that's my girl. just lay there and take it. let me get you ready for my cock."
you moan, your head falling back against the pillow. heâs relentless, his fingers pumping in and out, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision blur. you try to rock your hips, try to chase the sensation, but he stills you with his free hand on your hip.
"no, angel." he says, his voice firm. "donât move. let me. i want to feel you squeezing my fingers while you just lay there and let me fuck you open."
you whimper, your hands gripping the sheets because he wonât let you touch him. heâs leaning over you, watching your face, watching the pleasure overwhelm you, and his expression is something almost feral. like thisâserving you, controlling your pleasure, doing all the laborâis exactly where he wants to be.
"look at you," he breathes, his fingers moving faster, harder. "so pretty. so perfect. you're doing so well, baby. letting me make you cum. can you do that for me? can you cum on my fingers like a good girl?"
"choso!" you sob, the pressure building, your body tensing.
"there she is," he croons, his thumb pressing down. "cum for me, make a mess of the sheets."
you break, your orgasm crashing over you, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you cry out. he rides you through it, his hand moving slower now, drawing out every wave until youâre shaking, boneless, your hair fanned out across the pillow.
before you can catch your breath, heâs moving. he hooks his arms under your knees, spreading you wide, his hands sliding up to grip your hips. he positions himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your still-pulsing heat.
"now," he says, his voice rough with restraint. "iâm going to fuck you, and iâm going to make you cum again. and again. until you canât think. until you canât even remember your name."
"please," you gasp, your hands reaching for him again, wanting to touch, to hold.
he catches your wrists and presses them back into the mattress. "no," he says, his eyes dark. "be good, or i'll stop. understand?"
you nod, dizzy, your body still throbbing.
he pushes in with one long, smooth thrust, filling you completely. the stretch burns so perfectly you cry out, your back arching off the bed, but he holds you down, his grip tight on your hips.
"fuck," he groans, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. "so warm. so tight. and youâre justâ letting me use youâ shitâ"
he starts to move, a slow, deep rhythm that has you seeing stars. heâs doing all the workâhis hips rolling, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, his hands holding you exactly where he wants you. you try to move, try to meet his thrusts, but he growls and pins you harder.
"stay still," he orders, his voice strained. "let me do this for you. you had a hard day. you smiled at people who didn't deserve it. now you just get to lay here and take my cock. thatâs all. thatâs your only job."
"ch-choso!" you sob, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. itâs too much, the pleasure, the devotion, the way heâs using his body to serve you. "i love youâ hic!â i love you so muchâ"
"i know," he breathes, his thrusts speeding up, becoming harder, more desperate. his skin slaps against yours, the bed creaking, but he never lets you move. he holds you open, holds you down, fucks into you with a single-minded focus thatâs entirely about your pleasure. "and i love you more. god, i love you so much more."
his hand slides between you again, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles. youâre so sensitive from your first orgasm, every touch is electric, overwhelming. you canât move, canât do anything but lay there and take it, exactly like he wants, and the helplessness of it, the sheer luxury of being cared for so completely, sends you over the edge again.
you cum with a scream, your walls clamping down on him so hard he chokes, his rhythm faltering.
"thatâs it," he gasps, fucking you through it, chasing his own release now. "atta girl. justâ shitâ i-im gonnaâ"
he thrusts deep one last time and stills, his cock pulsing inside you as he comes with a broken groan against your neck. you feel the heat of it, the way he spills into you, marking you, claiming you, all while you lay there trembling, his hands still gripping your hips, his weight pressing you into the mattress.
for a long moment, neither of you moves. heâs breathing hard, his chest heaving, sweat slicking his skin. slowly, carefully, he pulls out and collapses beside you, immediately pulling you into his arms. heâs still panting, his heart hammering against your ear.
"okay?" he whispers, his hand stroking your hair again, back to the gentle, domestic touches.
you nod, boneless, drifting. "more than okay," you murmur. "felt so good."
"thatâs the point," he reminds you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "pretty girls like you shouldnât have to do anything."
you smile against his chest, your eyes already closing. "then i guess iâm just going to have to let you do it again tomorrow."
Nanami was fast asleep, back towards you the only sound being his soft snores that feel up the empty and dark room. Well, almost dark. Your screen was dimly lit as you doom scrolled.
Instagram, TikTok, Pinterestârepeat. You werenât tired although you promised your husband youâd atleast try to start getting some proper sleep.
You also complain about how unfair it is, how easy he can fall asleep. But you guess thatâs just the perks of old age. You turn your sound up a bit as you scroll through reels. Not even five minutes later, Nanamiâs up.
His eyebrows furrow as he adjusts his eyesight. âHoney.â His tired voice rings in your ear, you discard your phone elsewhere on the bed. âI tried, I canât itâs hard for me to fall asleep quickly.â He lets out a huff before pulling you into his chest where you can his heartbeat.
âMaybe, if you reduced the time you spend on your phone before bedââ he kisses the top of your head. âThen maybe you might be able to go to sleep.â
You let out a weary sigh, âIâve tried that.â You can hear him scoff. âbaby love, you tried it for two minutes and you went back on your phone. âYeah.â You nod, âstill effort.â You feel him shake from the vibration of his laughter. âA for effort.â He teases.
Nanami drapes the blanket over the two of you, His fingers find your cheeks and just your face in general. âRelax them, relax your face muscles.â Once he feels you relax, he then takes his hands off. âNow drop your shoulders.â You do as he says. âWhy are you so tense, hm?â He asks through the process.
You let out a deep breath, âAm I tense?â he nods, âRelax your arms and exhale.â You obey, âgood, look honey, youâre doing so good.â he whispers into your ear.
You smile against him. âNow this is gonna sound a little sillyââ his hands find your waist. âImagine some peaceful scenery, where youâre at. Could be the beach, mountains, anywhereâ
Your breath comes warm against his chest, âmy girl.â he murmurs pressing one more kiss to your head. âmy sleepy girl.â
sometimes I write what I want to experience and itâs sad because like đđ
olderbf!nanami who never rushes you, no matter how impatient you get. youâre standing in front of your closet, frustrated, pulling out dresses and tossing them onto the bed.
"i have nothing to wear," you groan. heâs sitting in the armchair by the window, his tie already loosened, watching you with that calm, steady gaze.
"we have forty-five minutes," he says, his voice low and even. "take your time."
you huff, turning to face him. "youâre always so patient. itâs annoying."
he smiles, small and fond. "iâve waited forty years to find you. i can wait forty-five minutes for you to pick a dress."
olderbf!nanami who always makes sure you eat before you leave the house. youâre running late, your heels clicking on the kitchen floor as you grab your purse.
"weâre going to be late," you say, already halfway to the door.
he steps in front of you, a plate in his handâtoast with avocado, a soft-boiled egg, sliced fruit arranged neatly. "eat first."
you stare at him. "nanami, we donât have timeâ"
"we have time," he interrupts gently, setting the plate on the counter. "youâre not leaving this house on an empty stomach. sit."
you sit. you always do. because when he looks at you like thatâlike taking care of you is the most important thing in the worldâyou canât say no.
olderbf!nanami who never raises his voice, even when youâre being difficult. youâre arguing about something stupidâwhere to go for dinner, maybe, or whether you should cancel plans to stay inâand your voice is getting louder, your hands gesturing wildly.
he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you. "youâre not even listening!" you snap.
"i am," he says quietly. "iâm listening to every word. and when youâre done, weâll talk about it calmly. like adults."
you deflate, your anger fizzling out. "youâre too kind to me," you mutter.
he steps forward, his hands finding your waist. "youâre worth the kindness."
olderbf!nanami who takes his time undressing you, like every layer is a gift heâs unwrapping. youâre in his bedroom, the lights dimmed, and youâre already reaching for his belt, impatient, wanting him now.
"slow down," he murmurs, catching your hands. "we have all night."
you pout. "i donât want to wait."
he leans down, his lips brushing your ear. "i know, baby. i know. but iâm going to make you wait. because the longer i take, the better itâll feel when i finally touch you." he undresses you slowly, his fingers working each button, each zipper, until youâre standing in front of him in nothing but your underwear. he steps back, his eyes raking over you. "beautiful," he says. "now lay down."
olderbf!nanami who eats you out like itâs a meditation, like he could spend hours between your thighs and never get bored. youâre on your back, your legs over his shoulders, and heâs taking his time, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes.
"n-nanamiâpleaseâ" you gasp, your hands fisting the sheets. he looks up at you, his mouth glistening.
"patience," he says, his voice calm even as he slides two fingers inside you. "iâm going to make you cum. but iâm going to do it my way." he curls his fingers, finding that spot that makes your vision blur, his tongue circling your clit with agonizing precision.
youâre moaning, your hips rolling, but he holds you down with one hand on your stomach. "stay still," he orders gently. "let me take care of you."
olderbf!nanami who fucks you slow and deep, his hips rolling in a rhythm that has you seeing stars. youâre on your stomach, your face pressed into the pillow, and heâs behind you, his chest pressed to your back, his cock buried so deep you can barely breathe.
"nanamiâh-harder!!â" you beg, trying to push back against him. he stills, his hand sliding up your spine to grip the back of your neck.
"no," he says, his voice firm but kind. "you take what i give you." he starts moving again, each thrust deliberate, each roll of his hips dragging against your walls in a way that makes you sob. "you feel that?" he murmurs against your ear. "thatâs me. all of me. and youâre going to take every inch, just like this. until you canât think about anything but how full you are."
olderbf!nanami who makes you ask for what you want, his voice low and commanding. youâre straddling him, his cock inside you, but heâs not moving.
heâs just watching you, his hands on your hips, his thumbs stroking your skin.
"p-please, i.... i can'tâ" you whimper, trying to roll your hips. he holds you still.
"use your words," he says. "tell me what you want."
"i-i want you to move," you gasp. "i want you to fuck me."
he smiles, small and satisfied. "good girl. now ask nicely."
you bite your lip, your face burning.
"please fuck me, nanami. please."
he rewards you with a slow thrust upward, his cock hitting that spot inside you that makes you moan. "thatâs it," he praises. "that's my girl."
olderbf!nanami who holds you after, his arms wrapped around you like heâs afraid youâll slip away. youâre lying on his chest, your body still trembling, your mind fuzzy with pleasure.
heâs stroking your hair, his lips pressed to the top of your head. "you did so well," he murmurs. "so beautiful. so perfect." you nuzzle closer, your eyes already drifting shut.
"youâre too good to me," you whisper. he kisses your forehead.
"no such thing. you deserve everything. and iâm going to give it to you for as long as youâll let me."
olderbf!nanami who wakes you up in the morning with his mouth between your legs, because heâs not done taking care of you yet. youâre half-asleep, your body warm and heavy, when you feel his hands on your thighs, spreading you open.
"nanamiâ" you start, but then his tongue is on you, and youâre gasping, your hands flying to his hair. he looks up at you, his eyes dark.
"good morning," he says, his voice rough with sleep. "lay back. let me love you." and you do. because when nanami wants to be patient, you let him. every single time.
I hate that when youâre stressed enough your body just starts falling apart. I think it should realize youâre already stressed and donât need that and start functioning better actually
Imagine Sylus being so pussy drunk that he doesn't even process that he's overstimulating the life out of you?
You've already snapped your thighs shut around his head, one hand pushing desperately against his hair as if it will somehow detach him from your poor, throbbing clit.
Your entire body is writhing to get away from him.
But his hands are iron-clad in their grip on your body. You're not going anywhere, even as you manage to fight through the overwhelming pleasure and twist your upper half. Grabbing at the pillows, the sheets, anything for leverage to pull yourself up the bed.
But, Sylus holds firm, mouth latched on to your slippery cunt. You're nearly begging, trying anything to somehow dislodge your beast of a lover from your cunt.
Imagine somehow being able to get yourself from your back to your hands and knees.
Trying so hard to crawl away on trembling legs but you just can't seem to make them move fast enough.
Not that Sylus is letting you get very far. Large arms encompass your lower half in a bear hug, and his face is smushing itself embarrassingly deep into your sloppy sex.
Succumbing to the fact that you're not escaping him, nor are you escaping his eager mouth. Melting into the pillows, slack jawed and watery eyed as you fully give in to the pleasure he's giving you.
Sylus isn't quite about it either, no, he's a loud eater.
He's moaning and groaning into your cunt, slobbering down your thighs, nuzzling his entire head into the warmth between them.
originally posted Feb. 4th, 2026 on @headquarters90
Pairing: Dragon!Sylus x Reader
Tags: fluff, suggestive, implied sex the night before
Words: 195
Notes: idk why this is. wrote the first line, asked friends who i should do, and then decided dragon sylus after they answered due to wanting rumbling. not beta read
Minors & Ageless Blogs DNI
The Devil | Masterlist
A soft sigh left you as lips pressed against your bare shoulder blade and you buried yourself further into the feather-filled pillows.
You felt more than heard the rumble that left the man before a clawed hand carefully dragged up your side and you finally peeked an eye over your shoulder.
âSleep well, darling?â He murmured against your shoulder and you released a hum, turning slowly as you stretched your arms over your head.
Peeking your eyes at him allowed you to watch as his eyes slid over your chest, stopping at the fur that rested against your hips, before they flickered back to your face.
âSee something you like?â You mused softly before squeaking at the sudden nip to your shoulder. âSylus!â
âCome eat,â Sylus spoke as he leaned back, settling on his knees, and you tilted your head at him. âFood. Not me.â
âSays the one whose taken a bite of me already this morning.â
âA morning snack.â
Sitting up, you shoved at his chest, scowling as he didnât budge until a hum left your lips against as he pressed his lips against yours.
It's always "stop harming yourself or we'll have to lock you up!!!" and never "what do you need to change to want to harm yourself less and how can we help you make some of these changes?" and that's why we're not getting anywhere
You and RE9!Leon have been married for many, many years. Youâve been there for the best of times and for the worst of times. From the moment you met him you knew that you would spend the rest of your life with this man. Sure he had his flaws (as all humans do), but you never once doubted the love you had for him nor the love he had for you.
You are the Sun to the universe that he orbits in. The lighthouse during the stormy nights when he had no where else to turn to. The one constant in his long, gruesome journey and RE9!Leon will forever cherish you for the peace youâve brought him.
So when his friend Claire brought up vow renewals due to the sudden rise of TikTok, he jumped at the opportunity to celebrate his love for you all over again. He, of course, asked you to marry him all over again (He was nervous as hell despite his lifelong career as a Federal Agent) and was over the moon when you said âYes!!!â. It was a romantic moment with cheep patio lights strung about in the backyard underneath that small pine tree You had planted decades ago.
What came next was a simple yet unpredictable affair . The renewal was a small ceremony with only a few close relatives on your side of the family and RE9!Leonâs few close friends. You had worn the same thing the day the two of you had gotten married in and it was safe to say that your husband might have shed a tear or two when he saw you walk down the isle again.
The first one that RE9!Leon got was a simple pose- one that wasnât too much for him that he had to worry about anyone peeking at it and seeing You in a scandalized fashion. He still blushed of course (why wouldnât he?) but he had thanked Claire before tucking it away in his breast pocket.
You knew you were playing with fire, but You just couldnât help yourself. By the time the party was over and the last of the guests had left, RE9!Leon was ready to pounce. He scooped You up in his arms and carried You away to the same bed he made love to You the night after your first wedding. With every touch, every caress, he whispered words of devotion into your skin. With each kiss he reminded you who you belonged to and who he worshiped above all else.
RE9!Leon was a devoted man. A devoted husband. And you wouldnât have him any other way.
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Jelly Wings @starsoftheknight - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
