sylvie

hi my sweet beautiful people ⁺⊹˚.⋆

[sylvbun]

formerly: rafesorchid

丂ㄚㄥᐯ丨乇 / sylvie: 20 she/her desi 18+ mdni ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ໒꒱

♡ : pink everything. blush. bunnies. puppies. iced coffee. my other blog: @sylvfox

ℳasterlist / ℛules / ℘interest

ℛequests r open ₊˚⊹ᰔ

@ ʀᴀꜰᴇꜱᴏʀᴄʜɪᴅ — ᴇꜱᴛ 2025. ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ!

[sylvbun]

when jack doesn't hold your hand

the sun is finally beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a deep orange and purple glow across the beach. the heat of the day is melting into a cool coastal breeze, which should be nice, but walking back to the car is turning into a massive chore. well, a chore for jack, at least.

you're strolling effortlessly along the boardwalk, your designer sandals, that jack obviously paid for, clicking softly on the wood, completely unbothered. jack, on the other hand, is walking half a step behind you, acting as your personal servant. he's carrying the massive pink canvas beach bag stuffed with your towels and skincare products, a heavy cooler half full of refreshments, the folded up beach umbrella, and even your oversized sun hat that you got tired of wearing five minutes ago. despite the sheer amount of gear draped over his broad shoulders, he moves with a steady pace, not even breaking a sweat.

glancing back at him from behind your sunglasses, you cross your arms as you slow your pace so he can catch up. you look at his hands, both completely full as his fingers grip the straps and handles of your belongings.

"jackieee," you whine, stopping in the middle of the path and turning around to face him. "why arent you holding my hand?"

jack stops in his tracks, looking down at you with an expression of pure, unadulterated disbelief. as you cross your arms to pout, the movement pushes your breasts up, drawing his dark eyes directly to the front of your low cut bikini top. because he had been so meticulous with the sunscreen earlier, your skin is entirely safe from the sun, lacking even a hint of a tan. instead, your breasts look incredibly soft against the bright fabric of your swimsuit, glistening faintly under the remaining sheen of protective cream.

jack stares down, completely mesmerized for a quick minute. his gaze lingers on the smooth swell of your chest, his throat tightening as he remembers the exact feel of his hands rubbing the cream over those curves just an hour ago. the sight of you looking so untouched by the sun, completely preserved by his own hands, hits him with a sudden wave of possessiveness.

he forces his eyes back up to your face, letting out a low, breathless scoff to hide how deeply the sight just affected him. a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he takes in the absolute entitlement radiating from your pout.

"because, princess," jack rumbles, his voice rougher and deeper than before, "im currently carrying every single thing we brought to the beach, most of which belongs to you. unless you want to carry the cooler, i don't exactly have a spare hand."

"i am not carrying a dirty cooler, jack," you huff, tilting your chin up and refusing to budge. "but i still want to hold your hand. you're walking too far away from me."

jack stops in his tracks, looking down at you with an expression of pure, unadulterated disbelief. as you cross your arms to pout.

he takes in the way your lower lip protrudes and the petulant set of your jaw, and for a split second, he almost thinks he sees tears of genuine, bratty frustration glistening in your eyes. the thought is ridiculous, he knows you’re just being dramatic—but it still manages to deflate the last of his resistance.

jack stares at you, completely exasperated by how spoiled you are, yet completely unable to deny you when you look up at him like that, especially with his mind still stuck on how stunning you look.

he lets out a quiet sigh, adjusting the umbrella under his arm just enough to free up exactly one digit.

slowly, he extends his right hand toward you, curling his thumb and three fingers tightly around the handle of the gear, leaving only his thick, pinky finger sticking out in the air.

"this is the best you're getting," he murmurs, raising an eyebrow at you. "take it or leave it."

a massive, victorious smile immediately replaces your pout. you step closer and eagerly wrap your entire hand around his extended pinky finger, squeezing the warm skin tightly. it is a ridiculous way to walk, but the solid anchor of his touch makes you instantly happy. you turn back around and continue walking toward the car, happily tugging him along by his littlest finger while jack just shakes his head behind you, entirely defeated by his favorite brat.

[graywrenhart]

Three guard dogs might’ve been overkill. 

Simon Riley’s never thought that before—until they’re barreling down his driveway, barking up a storm at you. A pretty thing in the neighborhood, pushing a stroller. 

He follows after his stubborn German Shepherds, gruffly ordering them to heel. They won’t hurt you, of course, but you don’t know that. He braces himself for the screams when he rounds the mailbox. A terrified mother and her child, chased by three trained-to-kill dogs and a masked man—

Laughter stops him in his tracks. 

Cap, Kilo, and Mac are planted on their asses, tails wagging, tongues hanging out. Your toddler’s giggling so hard she’s nearly tippin’ out of her seat as she yanks on Mac’s ear, earning a face full of slobber for it. 

And you—you’re bent over, one hand holding Cap’s paw, the other scratching behind Kilo’s ears. 

“Cute pups,” you say. 

Cute...what? 

You look up at him, past his mask and into his eyes. He freezes. But you just smile. 

“You military?” 

He ends up not replying, because the setting sun catches in your eyes and his brain is temporarily short-circuited. You’re not deterred, however, your chin tilting to the gun holstered at his hip. 

“My husband was, too.” Your gaze drops to the paw in your hand. “He did an op down in Coal Ridge last year.”

You don’t have to say anything else. Everyone knows what went down in the ridge.

Ghost tries to find something—anything—to say. Condolences would be a start. But nothing he thinks of is good enough, or sounds right in his head. So he just stands there, looming over you, watching you pet his assassin dogs. 

And then—it hits him in the chest like a bullet. 

You’re all alone in that house at the end of the street with your little girl. 

Something rears its head under his ribs. A protective urge so strong it’s almost staggering.

“Well,” you sigh, straightening and offering him a playful, cute little salute. “Have a good one.” Your eyes flick to the insignia on his sleeve. “Lieutenant.”

As you stroll away into the setting sun, Simon watches you go, and the ‘cute pups’ whine at his feet as you leave.

And suddenly, three guard dogs don't seem like enough after all. 

He might just have to become one himself. 

[janeisoffline]

Deaf!Simon Riley and the vibrations of your voice (18+)

Simon Riley has been deaf for the past few years of his life due to sudden acoustic trauma from explosions and gunfire. He never had a problem with it, in fact, he never really talked or listened to people in general when he was able to hear. The tinnitus still rings out in his head, still makes him press his pillow against his ears at night, but at least he didn’t have to listen to anything else.

It wasn’t until you came along that he wished he could hear again, but something about the simple intimacy of feeling your voice rather than hearing it made him feel like this is how it was always meant to be for him.

He liked the fact that you would still speak to him as he reads your lips, that you didn’t shy away when he would occasionally reach up to touch your cheek just to feel the vibrations of your voice. Of course, you accommodated him as well, learning how to articulate your words better for lip reading, how to use sign language, but when he would ask you to speak about anything and everything you always did.

You never fail to make his world feel loud in a space that was so consumingly quiet before.

And when it came to sex, it was never anything short of passionate. It was a different kind of intimacy you had never experienced before him.

Your back is pressed against the sheets, Simon’s chest against yours, and his face is buried in your neck as he thrusts into you deep, and hard. His hips roll against yours, spreading your legs wider, stuffing your wet pussy full of his aching cock. Every single moan falling from your lips, every last babbled word you can get out as he fucks you dumb, he drinks it all in with his lips pressed to your throat to feel the vibrations flood through his body.

He is always particular about that, rightfully so, to the point where he’ll fuck you any way you want but he needs to feel you to cum. To feel your wet, warm walls wrapped tightly around him, clenching down on his length when his tip knocks against your cervix. To feel your cries of pleasure when he angles his hips just right to brush against your sweet spot.

Your fingers tangle in the hair at his nape, tugging slightly, earning a low groan rumbling out from the depths of his chest. Your nails rake down the rough skin of his back, leaving red, angry marks in your wake. Wrapping your legs around his waist, the new angle allows him to dig deeper, leaving you a moaning mess under him.

The skin of his abdomen glides on your clit, stimulating the sensitive bundle of nerves when he thrusts in and grinds his cock on your cervix. Your nipples drag against his chest, hard and swollen, aching for his lips. You press soft kisses to his shoulder, biting ever so slightly and licking away the pain until it fades into pleasure again.

The veins and ridges of his cock slide through your walls, molding your pussy to him, stretching you, pleasuring you, all because of him. He fills you to the brim, leaving no space inside of you empty for long, before pulling back out and doing it over and over again. Stars burst behind your eyelids when he zeros in on your sweet spot, his precision maddening, his consistent thrusts enough to bring you impossibly close to your climax.

He can feel you getting closer, can feel the frantic vibrations, can feel the way your heart speeds up when you squirm your hips under him to find more of the friction you so desperately crave. Simon gives into your body every single time, thrusting harder, pounding deeper, slamming his hips against your faster the more eager he grows to feel you cum on his cock.

Each thrust knocks the breath out of your lungs, leaving you gasping for air, each exhale turning into sounds of pleasure. His skin is warm and sweaty on yours, one hand gripping the fat of your hip, the other caging your head in, keeping you steady while he pounds into you relentlessly. His face stays buried in your neck, his lips trail up and down as he sucks and bites against the one spot he knows you like, and when your walls clamp down around him, he hits your sweet spot one more time and you’re cumming for him.

Moans rip free from your throat as your body grows rigid and your muscles draw taut underneath him. Cum gushes from your pussy, leaking out around his cock, dripping from his skin and making a mess on the sheets below. He groans, deep and low, rolling into you to drag out your high for as long as possible before he brings himself to that same sweet release.

He lifts his face from your neck, wrapping his hand around it instead, still allowing himself to feel the vibrations but settling on placing his lips against yours. Your lips move with his, finding his rhythm, moving in tandem the closer he gets and you continue to moan which he swallows greedily.

Only when your body twitches with overstimulation, only when your nails dig into the skin of his back, only then does he drive himself to the hilt and spill his seed. Long, thick ropes of warm cum flood your pussy, spurting out in continuous streams from his swollen, sensitive tip, hitting your cervix and leaking out around him when nothing else will fit.

His kiss turns slower while his movements come to a stop, swiping his tongue against your soft lips before pulling away with a wet pop, breaking the strings of saliva connecting the two of you. The sight of you so blissful underneath makes him feel like this is the prettiest you have ever been.

Tears stain your cheeks, your eyes half-lidded and bloodshot. Your mouth hangs open ever so slightly, drool dripping from your chin, as whimpers and whines continue to fall the more you feel his cock twitch deep inside of you. You look so raw, so vulnerable, so his. His to please, his to love, his to cherish.

Your voice may belong to everyone else, but the vibrations of your body will always belong to him.

│Masterlist│

Tags: @fysalia, @scarhein, @bl-nk-bla-k, @joelmillrenthusiast, @jo-ys-things, @wcaress, @tessakate, @sexychickenmagnet

𑣲Click HERE to fill out my taglist form or comment on THIS post

[sylvbun]

dentist!gojo is a nerd 18+ mdni

the stark white illumination of the dental clinic throws satoru’s sharp profile into clean relief, bouncing off the polished floors and stainless steel instruments. his white lab coat is tossed over a nearby counter, leaving him in a thin gray button-down that clings to his broad shoulders. his heavy, wire-rimmed reading glasses slide slightly down the bridge of his nose, his striking blue eyes blown wide and glassy as he stares blindly at the ceiling.

you are currently on your knees between his thighs, your hands gripping the fabric of his tailored trousers to anchor yourself. his cock is thick and heavy in your hands, completely slick from your mouth as you bob your head in a slow, agonizingly deep rhythm. the quiet exam room is filled with the wet, rhythmic sound of your throat tightening around him.

satoru lets out a low, ragged groan, his long fingers instantly tangling into your hair. his knuckles turn white from the force of his grip, but he doesn't pull you away; he only holds you steady as his hips give an involuntary, desperate twitch against your lips. even with his composure rapidly fracturing, his over-stimulated, academic brain tries to vocalize the sensory overload.

"fuckk- did you know the... the submandibular gland," satoru pants, his voice dropping into a raspy, breathless register that sends a shiver straight down your spine. you plunge him deep, hitting the back of your throat, and he chokes out a soft, helpless whine. "sh-shit- it produces nearly seventy percent of all human saliva... nngh..."

you look up through your lashes, keeping him buried deep as you wrap your hand around his base, giving a tight, deliberate squeeze. satoru's knees tremble, his thighs parting a fraction wider to give you better access.

"and the m-masseter," he stammers, his jaw clenching as his eyes flutter shut behind his lenses. a dark, needy flush creeps up his throat, coloring his pale skin. "the strongest muscle in the human body relative to its weight. “ohhh god, that’s soo good."

seeing him reduced to stuttering textbook definitions makes you want to push him harder. you pull your mouth off his slick cock with a wet, deliberate pop, leaving him throbbing and exposed to the cool air.

"you're losing your train of thought, doctor," your voice soft and teasing as your fingers slide slowly up his cock.

satoru opens his eyes, looking down at you with a dazed, completely unraveled expression. his glasses are totally crooked on his face, a few strands of his white hair falling across his forehead. "babe... please. hah- please-"

your thumb brushes over the leaking tip of his length, and he lets out a shattered, breathy gasp.

"and the... the trigeminal nerve," he rasps, his hips twitching helplessly toward your hand as you give him a firm, upward stroke. "it's the largest cranial nerve... it's responsible for all the facial sensation you're overloading right now. please, just... put your mouth back on me."

you oblige, sliding your mouth down his length until his head is pressed firmly against your tongue. satoru lets out a loud, ruined cry that echoes off the sterile tile walls. his hands tighten in your hair, his body going completely rigid as he lets go. his ramble is replaced by low, broken whimpers as his hips buck weakly into your mouth, his body pulsing as he comes down your throat.

[sylvbun]

hallo guys i changed my user rafesorchid-> sylvbun .... who am i

[sylvbun]

i have this urge to redo my entire blog

[sylvbun]

jack and his instagram reels obsession

the bathroom door clicked open, releasing a thick, humid cloud of floral scented steam into the bedroom. you stepped out in your jack's oversized t-shirt, your hair bundled into a messy towel, and walked straight over to the vanity to start your nightly skincare routine.

across the room, the bed let out a heavy groan under jack’s massive frame. he was propped up against a mountain of pillows you had forcefully piled behind him over the months so he’d stop complaining about his 'horrible neck pain'.

his readers sitting low on his nose, holding his phone a little too close to his face. his thick thumb was clumsily swiping at the screen, his brow furrowed in deep, concentrated focus. lately, jack had become stupidly obsessed with instagram, a platform he didn't entirely understand, where his only follower and the only person he followed was you.

ding.

your phone buzzed on the vanity. you blinked at the screen. a direct message notification from jack.

you clicked it open. it was a reel of a smiling nutritionist explaining the benefits of drinking warm lemon water at 5 AM for optimal liver function.

you looked up, staring at him through the vanity mirror. jack didn't look back. his thumb swiped again, his face illuminated by the harsh blue glare of the screen.

ding.

another notification. this one was a video of a guy in a pristine kitchen showing how to properly meal prep organic chia seed pudding for the entire week to ensure a balanced gut microbiome.

"jackieee," you said, turning around with a bottle of toner in your hand, your eyebrows raised.

he didn't even look up over his glasses. "hold on, baby. looking at something."

ding.

you looked down. a video about the importance of a proper orthopedic pillow alignment for lower back support.

"jack, i am literally six feet away from you," you said, walking over to the edge of the bed, a silly, exasperated scowl breaking through your freshly moisturized face. "why are you sending me healthy lifestyle reels from across the room? you can just use your mouth and tell me."

jack finally paused his clumsy scrolling, his green eyes cutting up under the rim of his readers to look at you. a slow, sheepish smirk tugged at his jaw, but he kept his face deadpan. "algorithm says you need more antioxidants, sweetheart. i'm just looking out for you."

"the algorithm doesn't know me!" you whined, hopping onto the mattress and crawling over to plunge your face directly into his chest, deliberately getting a little bit of your expensive night cream on his clean shirt. "and you don't even like chia seeds! you literally called them 'frog eggs' yesterday!"

jack let out a low, gravelly chuckle that vibrated straight through your cheek. he dropped the phone onto the covers, his massive, heavy arms immediately wrapping around your waist to anchor you against him. he leaned down, his stubble scratching against your temple as he pressed a warm kiss to your forehead.

"the guy in the video made some good points, sweetheart" jack murmured, his thick fingers tracing a lazy, soothing circle against your hip. "besides, wanted to make sure you saw it."

"i'm deleting the app off your phone," you threatened weakly, closing your eyes as the heavy, familiar warmth of his chest completely enveloped you.

"sure you are sweets," jack grumbled, a lazy, knowing grin in his voice as his grip tightened, keeping you right where you belonged. "then who's gonna send you the 5 AM hydration reminders, baby? keep your phone close."

[sylvbun]

jack helping making you apply sunscreen 18+ mdni

the stretch of sand is practically glowing under the midday sun, but you are leaning back on your towel with a massive scowl on your face. the ocean waves are crashing lazily against the shore, a perfect summer breeze cutting through the heat, but none of it matters because your favorite tanning oil is currently sitting unused in your beach bag.

"turn over," jack's voice breaks through your silent tantrum.

you glance up from behind your oversized designer sunglasses, courtesy of jack, to find him standing over you, looking entirely too put together for a day at the beach. he's wearing sleek linen shorts and a light shirt, and in his hand, he is holding a giant bottle of broad spectrum spf one hundred.

"i just want to tan, jackieee," you whine, crossing your arms and refusing to move. "you don't ever let me tan! just let me use the oil for an hour, pleaseeeee."

jack doesnt even blink. as a doctor, his professional stance on sun protection is entirely non negotiable, and he has zero tolerance for you risking your health for an aesthetic. he kneels down on the edge of your towel, his broad frame blocking out the harsh rays above you.

"you know the rules sweetheart," he says, his tone soothing yet authoritative, and utterly unyielding. "you are not frying your skin under my watch. now, lie flat on your stomach before i have to take you back inside the house."

you huff, letting out a dramatic sigh as you roll over onto your stomach, burying your face in your crossed arms. you expect him to just slap the lotion on quickly, but jack is meticulous about everything he does, especially when it is for your own good.

you feel the cool pool of lotion drop onto the middle of your back, making you shiver against the heat of the sand. then, his large, warm hands spread the cream across your skin. his palms are firm and smooth, sweeping down your spine and smoothing over your shoulder blades with long, deliberate strokes. despite your annoyance, the heavy pressure of his hands feels incredible, melting the tension right out of your shoulders.

a soft, low moan comes from your lips, the sound quiet but entirely deliberate in the air.

you just couldn't help it. part of it was the sheer relief of his hands erasing the tight knots in your muscles, but another part of you wanted to see just how much you could rile him up.

jack’s hands relax instantly. for a split second, the smooth rhythm of his palms stopped completely, flattening against your waist as his fingers flexed into your skin. he would be wrong if he said he didn't expect this from you; you just love to tease him. he would also be wrong if he said he didn't enjoy every bit of it.

you heard the sudden, sharp intake of his breath right above your ear. the casual, easygoing demeanor he usually carried vanished, replaced by a thick, heavy silence. when he started moving his hands again, his strokes were noticeably heavier, his pulse racing where his fingers pressed against your hip bones.

he continues working slowly, ensuring every single millimeter of your skin is completely covered. his thumbs trace the sides of your spine before he moves outward, his hands sliding down to your hips. you think he is finished, but jack leans in closer, his chest nearly brushing against your back as he reaches around the edge of your sides.

his fingers slide underneath the hem of your bikini top, smooth palms wrapping around the soft curves on the outer sides of your tits to blend the sunscreen flawlessly. your breath hitches at the sudden warmth of his touch so close to your chest, your heart rate spiking as his thumbs lightly graze the sensitive skin right near the swell of your tits.

"jack," you breathe out, your voice losing all its previous attitude.

"hold still sweetheart," he murmurs right by your ear, his voice a low, commanding rumble. "the sun bounces off the sand and hits these exact areas. you need protection here just as much as anywhere else."

he finishes rubbing the cream into your sides, his hands lingering for just a second too long against your ribs before his heavy palm gives your thigh a firm, instructive pat. "flip around for me darling. let me do the front before you start burning."

you roll over onto your back, looking up at him as he pours another generous amount of the white cream into his hands. you stare at him defiantly, trying to look annoyed, but your breath hitches as his hands come down onto your collarbones. he smooths the lotion over your chest with slow, heavy circles, his thumbs sweeping just under the top edge of your bikini, ensuring every exposed inch of your upper chest is thoroughly guarded. he works his way down to your stomach, his warm palms sliding over your ribs and down to your abdomen, his fingers dipping slightly below the waistband of your bottoms to blend it perfectly. his touch is clinical yet impossibly heavy, making you squirm under his unwavering gaze as he coats your thighs and the tops of your legs with smooth, firm strokes.

he finally pulls away, capping the bottle. the lotion leaves your skin completely covered and glistening, your cheeks flushed from far more than just the summer heat. a cold bottle of water suddenly enters your field of vision as he stands up, offering it to you. the afternoon tan might be completely ruined, but remembering how effortlessly he manhandled you, you don't really mind not being able to tan again.

[sylvbun]

and omg.. over 2k notes on my simon imagine???? thank u sm guys :')

[sylvbun]

hii everyone!!! soosos sorry for not posting, i had a hugee research paper due today

but since that's over..i'll be writing more!!! yayaya

[sylvbun]

i came up with 1000 different ideas for jack abbot........ probs no toji fic today :( but jack 🤤

[sylvbun]

jack abbot putting spolied!reader in her place 18+ mdni

the rain was heavy against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, but the mood inside was tense. you stood near the leather couch, having just tossed the black credit card onto the glass coffee table right in front of jack.

"i tried to use it at the boutique today, and it... it declined!" you said, your voice dripping with an annoyed, spoiled whine. "m'idunno what your problem is, jackie, but it was literally soooo embarrassing. everyone was looking at me!"

jack didn't even look up from his tablet at first, taking a slow sip of his bourbon. a low, rumbling chuckle escaped his chest, entirely unbothered by the tantrum. he set the glass down and stood up, his towering frame instantly making the room feel smaller as he walked toward you.

"i froze it," jack murmured, his tone entirely casual.

"unfreeze it right now then," you muttered, rolling your eyes with pure entitlement. "i'm serious, jackie. i need those shoes today."

"make me," he rasped, stopping just inches away from you. his dark, hooded eyes didn't look at your face. they dropped immediately to the low cut of your silk top, watching the sharp, angry rise and fall of your chest. the shameless, pervy weight of his gaze was heavy, his eyes tracking lower to where your short skirt exposed your thighs.

"you think you can just cut me off?" you stepped closer, tilting your chin up to look at him, trying to maintain your dominance. "i'll just use my own cards then."

"but you won't," jack countered, a wicked, knowing smirk pulling at his lips. his large, warm hands suddenly reached out, gripping your hips with a heavy pressure that made your breath hitch. he pulled you flush against his body, the rich scent of his smoky cologne instantly crowding your senses. "you like my money too much. you just love being a spoiled little brat for me."

"i hate you," you whispered, though your hands automatically found his broad shoulders for balance.

"no, you don't," jack gritted through his teeth, his fingers digging into your waist before one hand slid down, his palm incredibly hot as he gathered the fabric of your skirt up, exposing your bare thighs. his thumb stroked the soft skin, a deliberate, teasing friction that made your knees threaten to give out. "you love that i buy you whatever you want. but you forgot your manners today, princess. you didn't ask nicely."

"jackie—" a soft, breathless gasp left your parted lips as his hand moved higher, his thick fingers brushing against the edge of your lacey underwear, finding you already slick with need.

"tell me what you want," jack murmured, leaning down so his lips brushed the shell of your ear, his gaze remaining locked on your chest as your body shivered against his. "tell me how much you need my card, and maybe i'll unfreeze it right here."

[polaroidsex]

ᓚᘏ𑄝 in which you and your boyfriend are playing ‘kissing every mole on your body’ until satoru reaches the one on your pussy.

mention of eating cooch, nasty toru, slight body worshiping.

satoru traces his lips slowly along the curve of your shoulder, finding the small dark mole there and pressing a lingering kiss to it. “got one,” his breath is warm against your skin as the game continues in quiet soft playfulness.

“toru,” you giggle softly at first, fingers threading through his snowy hair while he moves lower, discovering another mole on your collarbone and lavishing it with the same tender attention, tongue flicking out lightly to taste you. “here too..” he breathes.

the room feels warm and intimate, filled only with the sound of your shared breathing and the occasional soft laugh as he hunts for each mark on your body with delighted focus.

he shifts downward, kissing a mole on the swell of your breast, then another near your ribcage, each press of his mouth growing slower and more intentional, blue eyes glancing up at you with that signature playful glint mixed with deepening hunger.

“mmh,” your body warms under his exploration, skin tingling wherever his lips land, until he reaches the soft plane of your stomach and finds one nestled just below your navel. satoru hums appreciatively, nuzzling there before continuing his journey, strong hands gently parting your thighs as he settles between them, the game leading him exactly where the next mole awaits.

his mouth brushes the delicate skin of your inner thigh first, finding a faint mole and kissing it sweetly, but his gaze drifts higher to the one placed so intimately on the soft fold of your pussy, right near the top where your clit begins to peek out.

you shiver as he leans in closer, breath ghosting over your most sensitive area, and he looks up at you with a soft, teasing smile. “found it,” he whispers, voice low and warm, before pressing his lips directly to that little mole, kissing it with the same care he gave the others yet lingering longer, tongue tracing lightly around it.

the sensation sends sparks through you as satoru kisses and licks with focused devotion, treating your pussy like the most precious part of the game, his mouth exploring every fold while paying special attention to that marked spot.

“baby— toru, fuck…” you moan quietly, hips twitching under his gentle hold as he sucks softly, blue eyes locked on yours from between your spread thighs.

he takes his time, turning the hunt you both made up into something deeply intimate and heated, tongue circling and flicking until pleasure builds in slow, rolling waves. satoru hums against you, the vibration adding to the intensity, his hands stroking your thighs soothingly as he brings you closer and closer with every dedicated kiss and lick centered around your mole.

a dream a girl has.. you guys sighhh

[sylvbun]

guys i'm super excited for tonight's love island ep!!! i am scared for kenz and mel....

[sylvbun]

chapter 2 - a shadow in the dark

content warnings - child neglect and poverty, sketchy or unsafe neighborhood environments, implication of dangerous or illegal work, toji being a bad father, wounds/blood

a/n - hi my lovelies! i hope u enjoy the second chapter!!! pls dont mind any grammatical errors..i wrote this late at night </3 comments/likes/reblogs r soooo appreciated!!

series masterlist

the rain started around midnight, a low, steady patter against the cracked glass of the kitchen window that did absolutely nothing to cool down the apartment. megumi had been difficult all evening, his small brows furrowed as he fought a mild teething fever, but you had finally managed to soothe him down into his crib by eleven.

this routine had been going on for a few days now. every single night followed the exact same tense, exhausting script. you would show up, toji would leave without a word, and you would spend the hours holding his son, scrubbing the grime off the kitchen counters, and waiting in the heavy silence. but today had been particularly bad. megumi had been entirely inconsolable for hours, his tiny body radiating heat as he cried against your shoulder, leaving you completely worn out, your own nerves frayed down to a thin, exhausting wire from the sheer weight of taking care of a baby in a flat that felt like it was falling apart around you.

now, it was nearly four in the morning.

the small plastic fan on the counter whirred lazily, cutting through the heavy air. you sat at the small wooden table, your fingers tracing the edge of the scrap of paper toji had left you days ago. the string of scrawled digits looked mocking in the dim light; his old phone was likely sitting in a drawer somewhere, dead or ignored. you knew you should have left the moment the clock struck midnight. your shift was technically over, but leaving an infant alone in a building where the front lock was broken wasnt an option.

the silence of the flat was suddenly broken by the heavy, unmistakable clack of the deadbolt sliding open.

the door didnt shove or slam. it opened slowly, a dark, massive silhouette filling the gap. toji stepped over the threshold, his heavy boots making no sound against the linoleum, a trick of a man who knew how to move in the dark without drawing attention. he didnt turn on the overhead light, keeping himself shrouded in the gloom of the entryway.

the smell reached you first, the metallic sting of blood mixed with cold rain and the bitter scent of stale tobacco.

"youre still here," toji said.

his voice was lower than usual, a gravelly scrape that sounded raw, like he had spent the last few hours shouting over a crowd or breathing in smoke. he didnt sound angry, just entirely unraveled to see the lamp still burning.

"i couldnt leave him, toji," you said, your voice quiet as you stood up from the table. "his fever broke an hour ago, but i wasnt going to leave him alone."

toji didnt answer right away. he pulled off his soaked black hoodie, dropping it onto the floor with a heavy, wet thud. under the faint light of the floor lamp, you could see the dark line of a fresh split across his collarbone and a massive, dark shadow blooming over his right ribs. he was breathing tightly, each inhale shallow, as if expanding his lungs too far tasted like glass.

"you should have gone," he muttered, moving past you into the small kitchen area. he reached for the faucet, turning the cold tap on and sticking his hands under the stream. the water ran clear for a second before turning a faint, murky pink as the dried crust on his knuckles began to soften.

you didnt grab the first aid kit this time. you stayed where you were, leaning against the wooden table, watching his broad back. the tension in the room was different tonight. it wasnt just the fatigue of a broke father; it was the vibrating, dangerous, residual energy of a man who had just come from a slaughter.

"it was bad tonight, wasnt it?" you said, your eyes tracking the rigid line of his shoulders.

toji turned the tap off with a sharp jerk of his wrist. he didnt look at you, keeping his face turned toward the dark window. "i won."

"that wasnt what i asked."

a heavy, silent beat hung between you two, the only sound being the drip of the faucet and the rain outside. toji slowly turned around, his chest bare and glistening with a mix of tap water and cold sweat. he walked over to the counter right where you were standing, his massive frame casting a long, suffocating shadow over your small body.

"it's underground boxing," he said, his voice dropping to a flat, quiet murmur, finally giving a name to the violence that always followed him home. "down in the storage basements by the old rail yard. it pays the rent, it buys his medicine, and it is none of your business. now stop looking at me like that."

he didnt touch you, but he came close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his bruised skin. the smell of iron was thick enough to taste on the back of your tongue.

"it doesnt matter if it was bad," toji rumbled, his green eyes locking onto yours with a sharp, piercing intensity that made your breath trap in your throat. he reached out, his large, blunt fingers gripping the edge of the counter on either side of your hips, effectively trapping you against the wood without ever making physical contact. "the pay was double what it was last week. you want your money or not, brat?"

"i want you to come back in one piece so i can actually go home," you whispered, your heart hammering a fast, frantic rhythm against your ribs. you refused to drop your gaze, even as his face lowered an inch, the sharp, pale scar on his lip twitching in the dark.

toji leaned in a fraction closer, his green eyes tracking the rapid pulse in your neck. the proximity was suffocating, the subtle scent of him filling your senses until your head spun. he let out a low, dark breath that brushed against your cheek, warm and sharp.

"then stop staying late," he murmured, his voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet register that made your skin tingle. "stop looking at the door like youre waiting for a ghost. you keep doing this, and i am going to think you like being trapped in my kitchen."

the tension between you two was absolute, a silent, heavy cord pulling tighter with every shallow breath you took. you were entirely at his mercy, your hands resting flat against the counter behind you to keep from reaching out to touch the dark purple bruise on his ribs. toji stayed right there, his gaze dropping down to your lips for one long, unreadable second, before he finally pulled back, leaving you cold in the dark room.

he didnt offer any grand apology or dramatic explanation. he just exhaled a rough, heavy breath and slumped onto the edge of the small, stained sofa, the old springs giving a sharp, metallic creak under his weight. he leaned his elbows on his knees, his massive shoulders hunched over as he stared down at his own damp knuckles.

you watched him from the counter, the silence stretching back out between you. the kitchen clock ticked rhythmically, a slow, annoying sound that felt too loud for how small the room was. your own exhaustion was starting to settle deep into your joints, making your knees feel weak and your eyelids impossibly heavy. but the raw, physical reality of him sitting there, bleeding onto his own floor, pretending it didnt matter, kept you anchored to the spot.

without making a scene of it, you walked back to the kitchen sink, grabbed a clean, damp towel, and walked over to the couch. you didnt kneel or beg for his attention; you just stood by his side and handed him the cloth.

toji looked at it, his green eyes flicking up to your face before he took it from your hands. he didnt start wiping himself down immediately. he just held the cold fabric against the massive, dark bruise forming over his right ribs, his jaw tightening slightly as the pressure hit the injury.

"dont look at me like i am dead yet," he muttered, his voice still low and raspy from the smoke of the basement rings. "it takes a lot more than a couple of punches to put me down."

"youre breathing like walking hurts, toji," you said flatly, leaning your hip against the arm of the sofa, arms crossed. "i dont care how many fights you win if youre too busted up to pick up your own kid tomorrow."

toji let out a short, rough sound that might have been a laugh if his chest didnt ache so bad. he finally used the cloth to aggressively rub the dried pink crust off his knuckles, his movements careless, like he couldnt be bothered to treat his own skin with any kind of patience. "he will survive. he has got you to take care of him anyway."

"i am not going to be here forever," you replied quietly, your eyes dropping to the dark gash on his collarbone. "you need to actually be present."

he stopped scrubbing his hands, the wet towel turning a heavy, rusted brown in his grip. he didnt look up, but the line of his shoulders went completely rigid. for a second, the dangerous, volatile energy from the rail yard flared back up in the small room, thick and suffocating. you could feel the shift instantly, the way the air seemed to lose its oxygen, the way his large frame seemed to expand even while sitting completely still. he was a weapon, even when he was broken, and the reminder was subtle but terrifying.

"i am present," toji said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, quiet register that made the hair on your arms stand up. he finally looked up at you, his green eyes completely dark in the shadows of the apartment. "i am the one bringing the cash back to this shitbox. if i wasnt present, the kid would be out on the street. remember that."

"i know," you whispered, refusing to back down even as the air grew heavy. "but he doesnt care about the cash, toji. he was screaming for hours tonight. he didnt want a handful of bills. he just wanted someone to hold him."

toji stared at you for a long, unreadable moment, his gaze tracking the exhaustion written clearly across your face. he looked at the shadows under your eyes, the tight, defensive set of your shoulders, and the way your fingers dug into your own forearms. the anger in his eyes slowly burned itself out, replaced by that same lazy, heavy indifference he used to shield himself from everything. he tossed the ruined cloth onto the floor with a dull smack.

he leaned back against the cushions, letting his head drop against the top of the sofa. the dampness from his hair began to seep into the fabric, but he didnt care. he looked entirely spent, stripped of the terrifying armor he wore out on the streets, leaving behind nothing but a man who was fighting a losing battle against the world and his own choices.

"he stopped crying when you picked him up, didnt he?" he asked quietly.

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden drop in his intensity. the rough, gravelly edge of his voice had softened into something almost vulnerable, though you knew he would never admit to it. "eventually. he's just teething."

"yeah. teething," toji murmured, his eyes tracking a water stain on the ceiling. "his mother used to say he inherited my stubbornness. guess she was right. kid doesnt know when to just let it go."

you didnt say anything to that. it was rare for him to mention her, almost non existent, and the casual weight of the statement hung in the air like smoke. you shifted your weight, looking down at his large, battered hands resting on his thighs. his knuckles were raw, the skin split in jagged little lines that would take weeks to heal properly if he kept going back to those storage basements.

"you should let a doctor look at those ribs," you said, breaking the silence before it could get too heavy again. "if they are fractured, you could puncture something."

"cant afford a doctor who doesnt ask questions," toji replied, not bothering to open his eyes. "and the ones who dont charge double. i told you, i have had worse. a couple of cracked ribs wont stop me from moving."

"youre an idiot," you muttered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

tojis left eye cracked open, a lazy, amused glint hiding in the dark green depth of his pupil. "careful, brat. i still pay your wages."

"barely," you countered, though there was no real heat in it.

the silence that followed was different this time. the sharp, suffocating tension from earlier had dissolved into the deep, shared exhaustion of two people trapped in the same drafty, leaking apartment at four in the morning. outside, the storm showed no signs of stopping; a sudden gust of wind rattled the loose pane of the kitchen window, sending a cold shiver of air rushing across the floorboards. you rubbed your arms, suddenly realizing how cold you were now that the adrenaline was fading.

toji noticed. he didnt say anything, but his eyes tracked the movement of your hands against your sleeves. he reached over to the low coffee table, where a crumpled, heavy envelope sat next to an old, scratched plastic lighter. he picked up the envelope and tossed it across the small gap between the sofa and where you stood. it landed with a dull, heavy thud on the wooden table.

"your pay," he said. "plus extra for staying until four."

you looked at the envelope, then back at him. "you dont have to give me extra, toji. i stayed because of megumi, not the money."

"take the damn money, brat," he rumbled, his voice losing its quiet edge and returning to its usual, abrasive scrape. "i didnt spend four hours getting my ribs kicked in just to argue with you about accounting. take it and go home before the trains stop running entirely."

you sighed, walking over to the table and sliding the envelope into your bag. you knew there was no point in fighting him when he got like this. he was stubborn to a fault, and arguing with him when he was already injured was just an exercise in futility. as you reached for your keys, the small metal ring jingling in the quiet room, you glanced back toward the hallway leading to the small bedroom where the crib sat.

"his fever should stay down, but if he wakes up crying again, give him the liquid medicine on the counter. just a small drop," you instructed, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder. "and dont try to pick him up too fast if your side is hurting. you will drop him."

toji let out a low grunt, his eyes already drifting shut again as he stretched his long legs out across the length of the sofa. "i am not going to drop my own kid."

"just be careful," you muttered. "and try to get some sleep yourself. you look terrible."

"yeah, yeah. get out of here."

you moved toward the door, your boots clicking softly against the linoleum. every step felt like a chore, your body begging you to just find a corner and sleep, but the thought of your own bed, miles away across the city, kept you moving. you reached the entryway, the air here still carrying the damp, heavy scent of his soaked hoodie where it lay in a puddle on the floor.

you placed your hand on the heavy brass handle of the front door. the metal was freezing against your palm, a harsh reminder of the storm waiting for you outside. you hesitated for a split second, your fingers tightening around the handle. the apartment behind you was small, dark, and smelling of old tobacco and iron, but the sharp, dangerous edge that had entered with him had softened into something resembling peace. it was a strange, fragile kind of safety, but after the chaos of the evening, it felt real.

"goodnight, toji," you whispered into the gloom.

he didnt answer right away. you turned the heavy deadbolt, the loud clack echoing off the narrow walls of the entryway. but just as you pulled the door open, stepping out into the dim, drafty hallway of the apartment building where a single lightbulb flickered yellow, you caught the faint, low rumble of his voice answering just before the door clicked shut behind you.

"see you tomorrow, brat."

the hallway outside was freezing. the concrete floor seemed to suck the remaining warmth right out of your shoes as you walked toward the stairwell. the building was completely dead at this hour, the only sound being the distant rumble of the city and the relentless pouring of the rain against the roof. you took the stairs one by one, your hand sliding along the cold iron railing, your mind still lingering on the dark kitchen and the massive, bruised silhouette of the man sleeping on the couch.

when you finally pushed through the heavy glass doors at the ground floor, the lock gave way with a loose, broken rattle, a constant reminder of how easy it would be for anyone to walk right up to his door. you stepped out into the dark street, pulling your hood up against the stinging rain. the cold air hit your face like a slap, clearing away the lingering scent of iron and tobacco, but as you walked down the empty sidewalk toward the station, your fingers stayed tightly wrapped around the strap of your bag, where the heavy envelope of his money rested against your side.

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[sylvbun]

idunno if u guys watch love island usa, but the movie night episode lit pissed me off SOO MUCH. u dont understand how much i despise kc and sincere