18+ mdni | who knew your hot neighbour xavier was a spicy content creator? (if u guys like this lmk if u want a part 2!!!)
TW. dirty talk, mention of being a gooner lol, ethical dilemmas
pt 2!!!
“oh fuck my star, you’re squeezing me so tight”
your hand circled the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your heat as the voice of your favourite erotic audio creator ‘xoxolumiere’ played through your headphones.
when you first found him you felt almost embarrassed listening to the slick noises of his hand working his cock, quickly exiting out of the app and trying desperately to get his moans off your mind. you lasted a good couple days before getting home from a late night with your friends, deciding to “blow off steam” by pulling out the vibrator you hid in your bedside drawer, charging it as you scrolled through twitter for something to get you off.
you nearly gave up before seeing an upload from him—the warnings catching your eye.
handyman fucks you as payment (degradation+praise, whimpering, talking you through it)
with several shots in your system, you worked up the courage to sit through the entire 9 minutes of his soft voice uttering the nastiest phrases you had ever heard.
“this what you wanted, pretty? jus’ needed to be fucked good, right?”
“f-fuck, jus’ like that angel, work for that cock”
“o-oh god, gonna lemme cum inside you, right? please baby, got so much for you”
before you knew it you were dripping from his whines alone, vibrator forgotten as you scrolled through his page, bookmarking every audio that piqued your interest.
eventually it became a ritual, days passing in a blur as you waited for another post from him. sometimes you even listened to his regular audios, soothing voice talking about his day helping you unwind after a stressful work week. you felt kinda weird for developing a parasocial relationship with someone you couldn’t even see (aside from the rare nudes he posted, sunlight reflecting off his built torso and highlighting the happy trail leading down to an unfairly pretty cock), but it’s not like you were hurting anyone!
it didn’t affect your work or personal life, so it wasn’t really that big a deal…still though, you found yourself in a moral dilemma more often than you wanted to admit. porn is super detrimental to society, but here you are with a whole alt account just to retweet it. you’d never let a man disrespect you, but you had post notifs on for some stranger that regularly called you a ‘dirty little whore’ in the audios he posted for his 3k followers. were you a gooner? as bad as the men you made fun of online?
these thoughts weighed heavy on your mind as you checked the mail, deciding to take a day off work for some much needed self-care (code for lounging in your bummy clothes while you ordered food). stuck thinking about your…erotic predicament, you bumped into the broad chest of your neighbour xavier.
the flyers from your mailbox flew from your hands and combined with his pile of colourful letters. you stuttered out an immediate apology, mentally beating yourself up for wearing an ugly outfit in the rare instance you bumped into your attractive neighbour.
“hey starlight” he muttered, the nickname easily falling from his lips as if it didn’t just ruin every other nickname ever for you. he came up with it after running into you during a lunar eclipse, conversation flowing easily ever since then.
still—he was a good looking guy. even with the baggy clothes he always wore and his soft face, his sturdy frame always caught your eye. he crowded empty elevators when the two of you were alone, his towering height making you both nervous and excited. of course you still blushed around him.
you tried to give yourself the ick by saying he was probably filthy, but you knew it was a lie. he always smelled good and even with the basic clothes he wore, you never saw a stain or worried he was one of those guys that sniffed clothes to see if they were still good to wear.
“h-hey, i’m so sorry.”
he shook his head at your apology, a quick reassurance falling from his lips to let you know it was his fault for standing in the way like an idiot. you giggled while sorting through the mail, noticing the large amount of mail he received. “jesus xav, is this fan mail or do you just subscribe to every newsletter you see?”
your attempt at a joke fell flat, the tips of his ears turning red as he sputtered out how it was a result of leaving his mailbox unopened for weeks. you wanted to apologize for intruding or overstepping, but he spit out a quick apology that he had something in the oven and had to check on it. you watched him quickly walk to the stairs, going two at a time before waving once more and entering his floor.
the elevator dinged as you sighed at your complete lack of game, checking off another chance ruined with someone attractive. you looked through your mail as a distraction from the situation, flipping through the bills and bank statements before seeing a letter addressed to a different unit.
you scanned the envelope for a name, contemplating on just throwing it out before your breath caught, heart racing at the familiar user listed on the package.
xoxolumiere, with a lipstick stain pressed next to it.
your eyes blinking several times as you tried to convince yourself this was a dream. there’s no fucking way the guy who’s voice you got off to lived in the same building as you.
before you could think better of it, you pressed his floor number and stood at the door, breathing picking up as you swiftly knocked three times, bracing yourself for the very real possibility he could be unattractive or a weirdo or…
“miss me already, my star?”
you tried to think of a response, desperately wanting to be normal in front of your very hot and apparently very popular neighbour, xavier. unfortunately though, today was just not your day.
you shoved the letter against his abdomen before walking off, ignoring the way his eyes widened and his voice called your name.
the elevator doors shutting shook you from the dream or nightmare you felt like you were in, shame immediately washing over you as you realized you had been getting off to your sweet and kind and incredibly sexy neighbour for months.
the worst part is that you knew you weren’t gonna stop—now that you knew he was hot, you were probably gonna become an even more avid listener.
ALSO more about love island bkg maybe if you guys aren’t coupled up yet like maybe you’re a bombshell sleeping on your own for now and when all the guys are chatting together in the morning you practically skip over to them in your hat and sunglasses, teeeeeny tiny bikini and wedged flip flops.
all of the guys look over at you, some say hey and hello and their good mornings but you look directly at the massive muscled blonde with the pretty eyes and harsh glare. but it’s softened slightly now.
“i want to talk to you.” you say with a small smile. stern and confident. pretty and bakugou’s type.
bakugou points to himself, “me?”
clears his throat right after and sits up straighter from his awful slouch.
once your head moves an inch to nodding, he whips up so fast the rest of the guys start chuckling away.
“i’ve never seen him move so quick!”
“you pull a muscle there, kacchan?”
you’ve already started walking, assuming he’s following behind you and he is, not before giving the guys a middle finger.
he jogs up beside you, ignoring the chuckles in the distance. harsh sniff, scratches the back of his head and adjusts his sunglasses.
“y-you look gorgeous today. love the colour of the bikini.”
it’s when you smile up at him, hand up above your sunglasses to cover your eyes from the sun, that he falls apart.
✩꒱ you know what he said to me? he was like, you’re so mean! — ft. eijirou kirishima .ᐟ
🏁 ꒰ ✩ suggestive ⋆ mdni ⋆ pro hero eijirou kirishima & fem!reader. mean bf kiri and sweet gf reader. protectiveness, possessiveness, sleazy kirishima, subtle dollification, established relationship. -> sometimes your boyfriend likes to make you cry, only to kiss it better in dirty ways later on.
me too me tooo … it really tickles me !!!!! like eijirou with a sweet baby gf who cries so much all of the time. even better if you weren’t like that before you met him, you were sweet but not a pushover except he’s made it so easy to break you down these days, you’re always a few seconds from being on the verge of tears.
it’s like a test to him, to see if eijirou has you well trained enough to always come back to him now matter how far he’s pushed you to your limits.
“you didn’t have to do that.” you snap harshly even though your throat twitches tight as you turn the words over on your tongue. they land with very little bite, lost to the ambience of the city’s night life and the clickclack of your expensive heels against concrete pavement.
kirishima walks a few paces behind, leisurely, but his hazy ruby gaze tracks your movements — he’d never allow you to stray too far from home.
“do what, baby?”
that’s what makes you stop. his careless ease and the sound of a smirk stitching together his voice. eijirou kirishima is amazing at playing pretend — he lets tension roll off of his back as though it were nothing, as if he hadn’t nearly broken several fingers and severed a few nerves of your coworkers hand just for talking to you at the company dinner mere moments ago. your spine straightens but the edges and the lines of the world before you start to blur and smear as though someone has spilled water on your ink. tears bleed through your paper cheeks — where he’d be able to see how distraught you were just by holding you up to the light.
“he’s my coworker, eijirou. he was just being polite.” you sniff, not daring to look up nor force yourself to be level with his eyes. you rummage through your little purse for the car keys you’d sworn you had stashed beside your gloss earlier — because it distracts you from the sweltering heat of the man towering over you. “he’s nice.”
eijirou smiles, dangling silver keys and riot themed key chains before you. they glint tauntingly under the street lamp.
“am i not nice enough to you? is that why you let him get so close?” he teases you further.
denying him would be a lie. eijirou takes care of you, the point where your only concern, really, is breathing. there are groceries stocked in your fridge every weekend thanks to his dime, you get your dream clothes and dress pretty and the pro hero takes you for dinner at least three times a week. to say you live in luxury would be an understatement, every step you take is cushioned by comfort and at first… you loved it. you were pampered a little too much to notice the signs, the slick and grimy version of your boyfriend hiding deep within.
nowadays you grimace when he brings you flowers and cringe when he kisses the back of your hand at a steak dinner — but you’d never leave him, you’re caught like an insect in a treacly web or an ant who’s drowned in sugar water.
“you’re being awful right now, eiji.” you cross your arms instead — keep your honesty close to your chest. you give an inch and eijirou runs a mile because he lives for the way you can’t help but blubber when he makes you mad. it seems that his expression, all pearly white teeth and bright eyes, bleeds into his cheeks and his skin there folds with smile lines. you mirror his opposite — lip drawn into a pout.
the red head circles you, coming to stand before you. his smart leather shoes become a muddled blur alongside the stone grey pavement and atoll, his red is vibrant. like he’s supposed to be the only thing you focus on. “i am, aren’t i?” comes his patronising coo, the sound settling in your chest. “poor baby, i’m just so mean to you and i’m such a bad guy.”
“stop it.” you simper like a child, going on to deny the cotton words he puts in your mouth. “i — gosh — i never even said that.”
god, you feel like a child. being scolded for a lie you never told and he relishes in the way you shrink down to feel smaller than you are next to him. his sweet, sweet girl who takes being picked on like a champ.
kirishima bends to your height, head tilted to the side as he regards you with a blameless expression. “are you crying? you know, you’re real pretty when you cry.” the world would never believe you if you told on him. that their manly hero who strikes with red is no better than a high school bully.
he twirls the hem of your pale pink dress — a romantic sight to passers by. a sneering jab to you. a threat that sends a thrilling shiver down the segments of your spine that hardly helps you to stand tall. “c’mere.” kirishima mocks your pout — puckering up. “can i kiss you?”
you nod more with bambi eyes glossed over with angel’s tears. the hero stands high and mighty then, rough palms melding to the curves of your hips so that he can better drag you into him. they provide warming comfort where his eyes are cold and cruel — bemused by the silent snivels you weakly attempt to swallow down.
irregardless you’re magnetised to eijirou — standing on your tippy toes, craning your neck, lips pressed to his like you’ve sealed them with a promise. his thick, hot tongue swipe over the seam in an attempt to pry you open because you’re a flower. something precious and winds towards him and blooms just for him. he tastes like whatever sweet cocktail had happened to pass him by at the dinner table — syrup and sugar coated lies and love held underneath his tongue. he’s mean to you, yes, but oh does he adore you.
he kisses you like he owns you, right there amongst twinkling city lights and strangers passing by. you think you’ll learn to live with that, being his property, belonging to someone with enough power to protect. he’ll push and poke you but never away. always within reach, always so that he can lead you home.
you mewl in frustration when kirishima lets your lips go — following a filthy smack.
red riot laughs. “you told me to stop.”
“didn’t mean it.” you’re honest.
“you never do.” his grip steadily traverses your back, two hands enough to map out the entire expanse. “wanna take you home. be all over you. will you let me?”
…
he doesn’t take kind to your silence. “words, sweet thing. talk to me.”
“yes, you can take me home. i-i’d like that.” nodding again like a dumb little thing, you link your arms behind kirishima’s head — fingers finding purchase in his ruby mane. you bring him back to you.
eijirou pats your cheek. just once, not enough to be considered a slap. “and what else?”
“‘m talkin’ eijirou, i am!” you huff, close to stomping your feet. the tantrum brews like a tropical storm just off the coast — warm, with rain cloud tears that bring a sense of humidity in the form of arousal. kirishima gives you a pointed look and then: “i’m sorry for calling you mean.” you say in defeat, batting your eyelashes apologetically.
once more, he smiles — fond this time. “that’s right baby girl,” then he chuckles, growling at the little nip you give to his bottom lip. “when we get home, i want you on your stomach. ass in the air. no touchin’. i’ll show you how mean i can really be.”
end ! likes are appreciated, but just liking doesn’t do much on tumblr! to support and motivate myself and other writers, reply, reblog and comment if you'd like to see more!! — asks are open to thirsts and thoughts! join my taglist ! love you!
owner!izuku and his pretty puppy hybrid that has an insatiable appetite for sex even when she’s not in heat. he loves her, he’ll always give her what she wants — fingers in her slick cunt and stroking her tail while she cums as he grades, toys shaped like his thick cock he can control from his class room while she rides it from home, hours and hours of missionary on the weekends because she wants to be breed until she can’t walk. but sometimes, izuku can’t keep up with her demand on top of parent teacher conferences and hero work … as much as it pains him.
owner!izuku who lets you pick from his friends, the ones you like who give you extra pets and treats when they think he’s not looking. kirishima who’s fun to go on walks with, katsuki who tries to be mean but spoils you anyway … sometimes kaminari who’s dumb enough to forget all the strict instructions izuku leaves for you while he’s out. he lets you pick because you’re too energetic to be left untouched, you need to be fucked out and subdued by the time he gets home on weeks where being a teacher clashes with being a hero.
owner!izuku who gives his friends a key and a schedule. swing by, play with the puppy, let him know how it goes. its more than permission to baby sit — its permission for kirishima to slip his cock down your throat and suck the slick from your folds at the same time, yanking that fluffy tail until you’re teary and trembling. ifs permission for katsuki to fold your knees into his chest, tripping and stumbling over his words in an attempt to remind you that good dogs use their manners when they’re begging for cock all while pumping his load into you, hot and sticky, fucking you until it clings to the walls of your puppycunt just like you’d wailed for. it’s permission for kaminari to tease you sensitive slit for hours on end, rubbing your clit until its heartbeat is raw, smacking that sopping mount until its swollen and the wag of your furry tail is weighed down by your own runny wetness.
it’s permission to take turns ruining you while owner!izuku is away. tire you out until you’re a pliant mess that still somehow needs her owner’s cock to settle down — despite the stretch and burn to your holes, the cum that dries against your skin like a signature. you’re easier to handle like this, izuku thinks, tasting the others on your cunt and against your flesh.
but as long as you’re happy and satisfied, he doesn’t mind who wrecks his puppy at all.
Xavier gifting you a dildo made by his mould because you complained you miss his dick when he is away on long missions.
"It's not like you can mail it to me." You had said at the time.
Then also immediately being a little irrationally jealous when he calls you for phone sex to talk you through it.
"Is that toy better than me?"
He huffs while his hand works his own length in time with your panting and whimpering. He knows how close you are just by the sounds of your pleasure alone.
"N-no bunny, of course not. Nothing.... fuck.... nothing is better than you."
That bit of stuttering wrecks him and he decides to let it go. For now. But those moans are nothing like the other times he's called you to do this and that fake dick is why.
"Push it in deeper. Just like I would if I was there. Don't hold back,"
his animosity is forgotten in favour of you singing in his ear and he fucks his own hand faster and faster to chase the climax with you.
"When I'm back, I'll prove it to you."
He will remind you the real version is always best.
"Xavier!"
Hearing you hit your peak makes him follow you there.
obsessive, possessive & violent—they love you. they’d do anything for you. everything they do is for you because you’re all they need. you can’t leave them, you’re meant to be together always & forever. — wc. 5.8k
STARRING ♱ xavier ⌇zayne ⌇rafayel ⌇sylus ⌇caleb
WARNINGS ♱ HEAVY YANDERE THEMES, DARK CONTENT, possessiveness, obsession, manipulation — (zayne) bsf!zayne, dacryphilia, love bombing, extreme jealousy, mentions of m*rder, cervix fking, rough!zayne — (sylus) needy, pssy drunk!sylus, lots of m*rder lol, cervix fking — (rafayel) STALKER!RAF, mean dom!raf, allusions to unaliving reader’s dates, overstimulation, fear play/kink, creamp¡e — (caleb) lovesick!caleb, established relationship, mentions of caleb unaliving people, secret cameras, MANIPULATIVE!CALEB, isolation, fear kink, use of good girl — (xavier) clingy!xavier, hoovering, established (enmeshed) relationship, baby trapping, false security, backshots — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+
KIT’S NOTE ♱ HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY BEAUTIFUL LOVES. i hope u all enjoy my first attempt at writing yandere themes (i know some of it isn’t very yandere but whatever). PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS BEFORE CONSUMING. if you see something that isn’t in the warnings and should be, please let me know :,). also special shoutout to @xinghuisknight for reading xavie’s part and making me continue writing this hc. i love u n happy birthday ior <3 — COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE SOOO APPRECIATED!!
#ZAYNE — MEANT TO BE YOURS
you love your best friend. he’s there for you through thick and thin, steady and unwavering—yet you’re completely oblivious. zayne has loved you for years, ever since the moment he met you. he was never meant to be just your best friend—no, he was meant to be yours. and you were always supposed to be his.
it took everything in him not to break when you got your first boyfriend. he’d fall asleep thinking of you being touched by another man and then he’d dream of all the ways he’d murder him with his bare hands. it drove him mad to share you with someone else, but he wouldn’t lose you. he could never lose you without completely losing himself.
but then you break up.
you show up at his place with swollen, red lips and tear tracks dried into your skin, eyes dull in a way that makes his chest cave in. he takes one look at you and understands everything without a word.
you don’t have to say a damn thing because he knows you and your boyfriend have been having issues lately—all his fault, of course—so he sets his jaw and lets you in and you tell him everything. you tell him all the mean things he called you, how he hated that you were friends with zayne, how he accused you of cheating.
and zayne’s never killed before, never even seriously imagined it beyond his dreams—but right now, it feels inevitable. that son of a bitch thought he could call you names? accuse you, the sweetest girl to walk the earth, of something so nasty, so despicable… the man that made his pretty girl look like this… he’s already sealed his fate. he’ll be dealt with, but for now… now he has to take care of you.
you’re weeping into his chest, hiccuping while he rubs your back. your broken sobs pull at his heart strings, “h-he said i-i was awful—that–ugh, that he deserved s-someone better.” your hands fist at his shirt in anger and hurt and confusion. “he-he told me to pick b-between you ‘n him.”
zayne freezes, throat running dry. he’d been quiet this whole time, letting you cry it out while he thinks of all the ways he could kill the man, but now, he can’t bite his tongue. “and what did you say?” his heart runs wild as he impatiently waits for the words to slip out of your meek little mouth.
you look up at him, staring into his jade eyes, noting the way his pupils nearly swallow the pretty color whole. unbeknownst to you, it’s the look of love. pure, unadulterated love.
“i-i chose you.”
his heart bursts, and he knows it’s wrong—knows he shouldn’t—but he can’t ignore it. years and years of yearning, of aching for even the smallest piece of your love, have made him greedy. he leans in, presses his lips to yours. you tense in shock at first, but he’s so gentle, so careful, that you almost immediately melt into him.
and the longer your lips linger against his, the needier zayne becomes. your mouth parts in a soft gasp, and he takes it as his chance, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
it’s so wrong to take advantage of you like this—that thought rattles endlessly in his mind. but then he hears your moan. then he feels the way you melt against him, comfortable, familiar, almost as if you’ve been imagining this moment for just as long as he has. and after that, he can’t bring himself to stop.
he can’t stop the way he flips you on to your back, or the way he hungrily devours your mouth or the sharp exhales through his nose as he tries to catch his breath without pulling off of you. he needs you. he’s needed you for years.
and now… now he finally has you, and he plans on making you his forever.
your clothes are off, tears still slipping out of your eyes as your heart aches for him. not your boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend—but for zayne. for the friend that’s always been so close, yet so out of reach.
he’s lining his thick, hard cock to your dripping entrance before he stops and looks at you. “i-is this okay?” he asks, voice gruff and heavy. his dark eyes burn into your bloodshot ones and they soften—just the slightest bit. “i know you’re sad, but i-i can make it better. i can fix it. i can make you feel better than he ever has, but you need to tell me it’s okay, sweetheart… please.”
he’s not sure if the beg is for you to say yes, or if it’s a plea for him to finally be let in. maybe it’s both. regardless, when you nod and whisper, “yes, please. make it better, zaynie. please,”
everything flies out the window.
all his inhibitions. all the restraint. all the times he bit his tongue and swallowed his wants—gone. along with his ability to be as gentle as you deserve.
“you’re mine.” he pants, cock thrusting into you with vigor. “you’ve always fucking been m-mine.” his hands push at the back of your thighs, pushing them back till your knees knock against your chest. “i’ve loved you—all these years, i’ve loved you.”
your arms wrap around his neck and you sob for a completely different reason now. because you feel so good—he’s so deep and he’s hitting every spot the way it was meant to be hit and he’s saying all these things you’ve wanted to hear for as long as you’ve known him.
“z-zayne—” you start but it’s cut off by a sharp cry when his cock rams against your cervix. “oh my god!”
“i don’t want to hear you say anything until i’m done—let me finish.” he warns, voice dripping with a newfound resentment. “you were always supposed to be mine, sweet girl. and that… that pathetic excuse of a man took you from me.” he rambles, pounding harder and harder.
“i took care of you… i-i—fuck, sweetheart, i just love you. i love you, i love you, i love you.”
and you can’t help yourself. his words make your stomach toss and turn and on his last syllable, you just break. like a dam that’s been filled to the brim, you fall apart right then and there, creaming his cock.
he groans and it only excites him further. he fucks you through your orgasm, repeatedly hitting the sensitive spongey part with his tip as he leans in close and murmurs. “you were meant for me… made for me.” he says.
“you were made to be mine.”
#SYLUS — IN MY ROOM
there’s no love purer than sylus’s. he’s said it before—multiple times at that. you were endeared by it. sylus’s gentle touches and soft words despite his frigid exterior.
but sylus isn’t always gentle touches and soft words. he can be mean, rough… nasty. especially when he finds someone to be a threat. you don’t see it, but he seethes when another person touches you. his heart aches when you’re away. his brain is infested with the thought of you.
mephisto is so special to him. yes, he loves the mechanical bird, but he loves you more. he’d die without the crow because without him, he can’t keep tabs on you and without his bird’s eyes on you, he spirals out of control.
your missions are especially hard for sylus. he always makes mephisto go with you because at least then he can tend to business in the n-109 zone while concurrently keeping an eye on you, but this time you refused. words along the lines of “i’ll be back soon–a week max. mephie doesn’t need to come with me.”
and sylus prides himself in being a man that gives his partner the autonomy of choice. he’ll never make you do anything you don’t want to—but he wishes he could. he wishes he could keep you at the base within arms reach. he wishes he could make you leave the association and move out of your tiny, shitty apartment so that you gave him all your attention. he wishes to never be apart from you.
he never says these things, though. he never wants to be too much—too suffocating, too overbearing. but moments like this make him unravel. when you’re away on missions in distant regions, not answering his calls or texts, and mephisto isn’t there to keep an eye on you, something in him snaps just a little. and sylus gets… a bit unhinged.
or maybe very unhinged.
sylus is level headed in every sense until it comes to you. he’s even tempered until you’ve gone two weeks without contact. then things get messy.
every one of his “business” meetings over the two weeks you’re gone ends in bloodshed. sylus kills everyone who looks at him wrong. everyone that tries to lowball him. everyone in his fucking way.
he’s disheveled when you arrive back at the base. you’re not much better—stress and fatigue etched into your features. you trudge inside, dropping your bags by the door, and when you blink, sylus is suddenly right in front of you.
and you see it. the fear in his eyes.
everything he refuses to say is written there—in his gaze, in the tension of his body, in the way his breaths come uneven, almost staggering, like he’s been holding himself together by sheer will alone.
“where were you, sweetheart?” he whispers, hands cradling your face as he tilts it up to meet his gaze. “when you said a few days, i didn’t think you meant sixteen.” it’s meant to be a joke—but it doesn’t sound like one. not even close.
“the mission ran longer than we anticipated, and there was no cell signal, so i couldn’t get back to you. but i’m okay…” you smile, teasing despite the way the usual light in your eyes has dulled just a bit. “don’t tell me you were worried about me. did the big, bad leader of onychinus really not have anything to keep him busy while i was gone?”
you probably shouldn’t have poked fun. not when he’s this raw. not when he was worried half to death, haunted by the thought that he might never see you again.
it’s exactly how you end up folded in half, knees touching your ears while he fucks into you. it’s not too fast, not too slow, but it’s at the perfect speed. his fat cock fills you to the brim and stuffs your hallowed out stomach. you’ve missed this stretch, this undeniable full feeling and he’s certainly missed you. you can tell in his expression… his words.
sylus is finally being honest.
“you can’t just leave me like that, sweetie,” he pants, hands on both sides of your head. “you don’t even know what i’ve been through these past two weeks.”
you feel every ridge of his cock, every inch of him and it drives you up a wall. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you.
“i can’t be good without you… i won’t feel whole without you,” his breathy whispers fan across your face as his red eyes bore into yours. his right eye burns brighter than the darkened left, and you can’t help but stare. “i am nothing without you, my love.”
you inhale sharply—partly from the way his thrusts grow deeper, rougher, like he’s trying to fuse your bodies together. and partly from his words. from the rawness of them. the desperation. you’ve never heard anything like it before—never from him.
“sylus…” you whimper.
“i need you.” he says, repeating it like a mantra. he needs you to understand it. “i need you… i need you. if i could keep you in this bed forever, i would. i never want you to leave again.”
that’s when he loses it. the pace of his thrusts pick up and he’s ramming against your cervix, eliciting a sharp sob of pained pleasure from you. he’s completely out of his mind, fucking you sensless like you’re some type of rag doll.
“you’re not allowed to do that anymore.” he grunts, eyes struggling to stay open as they keep rolling back in the delicious pleasure. he could just fucking die in this pussy and he’d be so content. as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t care what happens. “you can’t leave, i won’t allow it.”
your garbled words lace in your words, “i won’t—i-i, i won’t leave—fuh, fuck, sylus—” you promise, your nails digging into his back, leaving red crescents in their wake. “please, s-slow down.”
“shhh, baby, you can take it—you take it every time. so pretty and perfect, all for me.” he presses his forehead against yours and stares at your screwed shut eyes. “my perfect girl.”
you tighten around him, and the sound that tears from both of you is raw and guttural. it’s almost too much—so intense and so good— you can’t help but melt beneath him as your orgasm crashes over you, powerful enough to leave you shaking. sylus keeps whispering about how much he needs you, voice breaking in your ear while you convulse and whimper under him.
he presses his lips to yours, swallowing your moans as your legs wrap tight around his slender waist. he comes deep inside you with broken groans of “i love you” against your mouth, hips stuttering as ribbon after ribbon spills into you.
afterward, he collapses on top of you, cock still hard, but exhaustion has claimed you both. so you just lie there—bodies pressed together, breath slowly evening out, your mixed cum leaking from between your thighs as the moment settles around you.
“i’ll never let you out of my sight again.”
#RAFAYEL — SHE
you’re not usually like this on first dates. you don’t let them take you back to their place and eat you out till you’re in tears. you don’t usually let them fuck you till you pass out. you prefer to take things slow, steady. really get to know someone inside and out before you even let them kiss you. you’re the opposite of easy—you’re hard to get, practically unattainable, but tonight is different.
you’re first date with rafayel makes you feel away you’ve never felt before. it’s like he’s known you for years. he’s already aware of all your ticks, your mannerisms and the things that piss other men off? he welcomes them. he calls it cute. he finishes your sentences like he’s reading your mind. he guesses what your order is at the restaurant you brought him to—your favorite ever—and he guesses correctly. you call it a coincidence, saying he’s perceptive. observant. he’s just into you.
if you were a little less oblivious, you’d know it’s more than a coincidence. you’d know that rafayel has been watching you since long before you met on the stupid dating app. the first time you met wasn’t on bumble. no, you met a year prior—well, he met you.
you’d spilled your coffee outside a cafe next to the art gallery that housed his paintings. you were beautiful. more than that—you were perfect. the way you cursed under your breath. the way you apologized to the asshole who bumped into you in the first place. he was captivated. it was almost like he’d known you in another life.
that’s what had him following you. it was innocent at first—just watching you from afar. you happened to be a regular at the cafe and he took note of that. he’d watch you for hours type away at your laptop, drank in the way you’d gnaw at your lip and the pinch of your eyebrows every time you got frustrated, or every time your lips would twitch when you would find something amusing.
innocent.
then it turned to something more than that. rafayel found himself following you home. watching you change in your window, blinds wide open like you want someone to catch you.
and then he got addicted to it—watching you. following you. memorizing your schedule and routine. it made him hard to watch you. to think about what you smell like… what you taste like… how pretty you’d look crying on his dick. every night he’d go home to his place, wrap a hand around his leaky, aching cock and stroke himself to the mental image of you he’s burned into his brain.
he barely slept. he’d stay up late into the night and paint you. he’s memorized you. every curve. every strand of hair on your head. every feature—they’re all filed away in his brain.
his last straw comes when he watches you go on date after date, jaw clenched, fists tight at his sides. thanks to him, you’ve never gone on more than one date with the same man. they’re nobodies. wastes of space. he’s looked into every single one of them, and not one is worthy of you—so they don’t deserve a place in your life.
he knows you’re meant to be with him. he’s always known. and that’s when he finally takes matters into his own hands and downloads the dating app.
that’s essentially how you end up in your current position, throat hoarse from all your screams of pleasure. you’re overstimulated, pussy sore, but he keeps going. fucking you into oblivion. after all, he’s waited for this for a whole year.
your ankles rest on his shoulders while your hands cover your sweaty, heated face, his cock fucking you fast and deep the same way it has been for the past hour and a half.
“raf—hgnh, rafayel! p-please, oh my god,” you cry, your voice breaking as you beg for mercy. “i can’t take it—please, please.”
he groans, length twitching inside of your sensitive pussy at the sound of your pleads. “but you feel so good, cutie,” he responds breathlessly, a teasing lilt in his voice before it drops—lower, darker. “do you know how long i’ve waited for this?”
you whimper, panting out a confused, “wh-what? you waited all night for this?”
he laughs, but there’s no humor in it. it sounds strained. almost pained. he shakes his head and leans in to whisper, “no, silly girl. i’ve waited months for this.”
your eyes shoot open and you look into his. the twinkle that was there when he’d introduced himself to you earlier this evening is replaced with thunderstorms. newfound darkness. it makes your body lock up in fear, pussy tightening around him. this brings a wicked smile to his face.
“don’t be scared, pretty. i’ll take good care of you.” he swears, wrapping his hands around your ankles, fingers so gentle on your skin. “i’m the only one who can take care of you… the only one who deserves you.”
you’re not sure why your fight or flight never kicks in. it should—everything about this is fucked beyond belief. your date—the one you’ve only just met—knows you. has known you for months. maybe longer.
but your stomach still flutters. maybe you like it. like whatever… this is. maybe you’re drunk on the feeling, but his words only sink deeper, winding tight and turning you on even more. your back arches, a sharp, helpless moan tearing from your throat, loud enough to mix with the wet sounds of his hips snapping against yours.
“you like that, huh?” he taunts. “‘m gonna make you fall for me. take such good care of you that you’ll never be able to think of anyone but me ever again.”
“oh, fuck,” you sob. “oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. raf, fuck!”
“yeah, go ahead and cream my cock again, princess. it’s yours. i’m yours.” the pace of his thrusts quickens, each snap more frantic than the last, and his words hitch on a breathy whimper—an unmistakable sign that he’s close too. “i’m all yours—and you’re mine now. i-i won’t let you get away that easy.”
the knot in your stomach snaps, exploding all at once as you drench his cock in syrupy arousal. your body jerks uncontrollably for the nth time, thrashing beneath him, and he’s the only thing keeping you steady—anchoring you as it rips through you.
“i’m gonna cum inside—i’m gonna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum and make you mine,” he doesn’t ask—it’s a statement. he’s just telling you, and you don’t protest. not even a little.
you take it. you let him fill you all the way up, feel his cock throb and twitch wildly and take every drop of cum, giving it a home in your cunt. he groans so prettily and you whimper at the warmth blooming inside of you.
“you’ve always been my girl and now i have proof.”
#CALEB — STOCKHOLM SYNDROME
caleb is sick. so lovesick it’s twisted him into someone almost unrecognizable. he’s no longer the sweet boy from your childhood—no. now that caleb is yours and you are caleb’s, you’ve seen what lives beneath the cracks in his carefully kept exterior. he hides cameras in your apartment. he tracks you constantly. he’s planted a fear so deep in you that if you’re ever caught with someone else—friend or not—while ignoring his texts or calls, something very bad will happen.
in short, caleb would kill for you. you’re pretty sure he already has.
you love him—you love your caleb more than anything. he’s your sun. he treats you like a princess. he makes you feel whole. and yet, his actions terrify you. you can’t leave him, even though you know, deep down, you probably should. you should run. people have told you to run. simone, especially. but leaving would break both of you.
you make it a rule not to talk about caleb in your home when friends are over, because you know he’s listening. but when simone comes by, she can’t help herself.
“you need to leave him,” she says out of the blue and your blood goes cold. “[name], he’s basically holding you hostage—you only ever talk to caleb, i haven’t seen you outside of the association in weeks.”
“he’s not holding me hostage, simone,” you sigh, praying she drops it. you know she wants the best for you, but you don’t want to have this conversation right now. “can we not talk about him?”
“i’m just saying, [name], he’s sick. i think there’s something wrong with him and i just want you to be careful.” she says before grabbing her bag to leave.
—
caleb’s eyes are red when you see him at your doorstep two hours later. you pull him in and you know what’s wrong… you know he heard your chat with simone. you know he’s in his head, spiraling out of control.
“baby,” you murmur, pulling him by the wrist inside your place. “come on, come inside.”
he doesn’t even let you explain—the second he’s inside and the door is shut, he’s on you. his big, strong arms hoop around your body and pull you against him. your inhaling his natural musk and he’s buried in the crook of your neck apologizing profusely.
“i’m sorry i can’t be what you need,” he says, shakily. the words breaking your heart as you run a soothing hand up and down his broad back. “i don’t deserve you, pips, but please… please don’t leave me. i need you.”
you embrace him tightly, “oh caleb,” your sad voice just barely above a whisper. “caleb, ‘m not—i won’t leave you.”
he pulls away from your neck, violet eyes turned dark purple when you see them for the second time. “promise?”
you nod wearily, but still, with no hesitation, reply with, “promise.”
and then he’s kissing you. soft at first, then it’s rough. so rough that it almost gives you whiplash. he’s kissing you, tongue roaming your mouth while he guides you to your bedroom, whimpering into your mouth.
you’re thrown off when he gently shoves you against the bed. you stumble with a gasp and take in the shift in his demeanor. caleb looks mean. the boyfriend that was crying into your neck, begging you not to leave him looks nothing like the man that towers over you.
he’s slow when he unbuttons his pants and when he pulls off his shirt. he stares at you, clocking every movement of your body— the increasing rate of which your chest rises and falls, the way there’s a sense of fear paired with excitement swimming in your pretty eyes—his eyes never leave yours..
“you understand that you can’t leave me, right?” he says, voice low. “that you can never leave me?” he says, stalking towards you slowly.
you nod and he shakes his head. “say it.” his sweet voice drips with dominance. “fucking tell me you understand.”
your breath hitches as his hands begin to strip your clothes off. “i-i understand. i won’t leave you.”
“good girl,” he murmurs, continuing to work your clothes off till you’re in nothing but cotton panties. “you wanna know why you can’t leave?” he joins you on the bed, spreading your legs open and occupying the space between them.
you nod and he simply slips your panties to the side, gathers your arousal on the tip of his cock—effectively leaving you breathless in anticipation—before he presses into you, the fat tip of his length stretching you open.
“because you need me.” he grunts, shoving himself inside of you and watching you crumble so pathetically. “your heart needs me, your body needs me… and this pretty pussy, baby? yeahhh, she needs me the most.”
“caleb!” you gasp, feeling his cock deep in your stomach. “oh, fuck, caleb, w-wait— ‘s too deep.”
“it isn’t,” he growls, thumb catching your swollen clit. “nah, just fuckin’ take it, pretty girl. take this dick ‘n tell me you need it.”
your eyes roll to the back of your head as you let out a guttural moan. his cock pulls all the way out till his tip is the only inch that peeks inside your tight cunt, before he slams back into you, getting you addicted to him all over again.
“oh my god, please!” you beg when he does it again and again at a monotonous pace. “please, please, caleb, i need it—i need, hah! i need it—need you, caleb.”
the sound that erupts in his chest is practically animalistic. his hand wraps loosely around your throat before his lips press against yours again. is sloppy, uncoordinated—a string of spit connects your lips when he pulls a few centimeters away.
caleb leans in close, his voice dropping to a whisper as he moves against you, each word timed with a rough, unrelenting thrust. “you. need. me.” his grip around your throat tightens, certainty ringing through him as he repeats it like a promise—or maybe… maybe it’s a warning. “you need me. you’ll always need me, no one else.”
tears prick in your eyes at the pained pleasure shooting through your body. he squeezes your throat tighter, watching your eyes roll in ecstasy. so pretty and so fucked out and so his. you’re perfect. he can never let you go. he won’t.
how could he when you were meant to be together forever?
#XAVIER — ALWAYS BE MY BABY
you knew xavier was a little… toxic, to put it lightly, when you agreed to be his girlfriend. you knew he was possessive by nature—clingy, territorial, cruel to every man who so much as looked at you for a second too long. and you told yourself you were okay with it. you thought you were okay with it.
but lately, it’s gotten worse. suffocating. you feel like you’re shrinking inside your own life, like there’s no space left that belongs solely to you. every choice, every breath, every step forward is taken with xavier beside you—and it’s too much. it’s all too much.
so when you finally sigh, the words slipping out before you can stop them—“we need to take a break”—he cocks his head, confused.
it’s like a predator’s curiosity.
because… what does that mean? a break from what, exactly? from work? from the hunter’s association?
“what do you mean?” he asks, all wide-eyed and innocent—and that’s what upsets you the most about xavier. he doesn’t realize there’s something wrong with him. he can’t see that the way he feels about you, the way he claims you, has long since crossed the line from devotion into something deeply almost frighteningly abnormal.
you let out a shaky exhale and avert your eyes, sight landing on your feet. “i mean… i think i need to take a break from… you. and you need a break from me…” when you look up, his confused face is gone, replaced with a hardened glare. “we just need space to be our own—“
“no,” he cuts you off, voice nearly robotic when he responds. “no, i don’t need space—i need you. i don’t need a break… i just want to be with you.”
you knew this was coming. you knew he’d try to convince you that you were inevitable—meant and written into each other’s bones. so you sigh and choose honesty, even though it hurts him.
“i love you, xavie. i do. i want to be with you, but…” your voice wavers despite yourself. “…you’re scaring me.”
and something in his eyes goes dark. the familiar starlight you’re used to seeing there fades, thinning until it’s almost gone. “i…” he swallows, disbelief softening his voice in a way that unsettles you. “i scare you?”
“w-well, no—you don’t scare me, scare me,” you rush out, already trying to soften the blow. “you just… you worry me. i’m scared you’re too dependent on me. you chase off every man that looks my way, you’re everywhere i am—” your breath stutters. “it’s just too much for me.”
he stalks towards you and every step he takes forward, you take one back till your back hits his kitchen island. you gasp as he cages you in, arms on both sides of your body. he leans in, cobalt blue eyes swallowed by his dilated, black pupils.
you try to hold your breath, but it’s useless—your senses are flooded with him. he’s all you can see, all you can smell. his scent rattles your brain in a way nothing else ever has, too much of it sinking into you like a drug. and no matter how hard you try to keep your thoughts clear, your resolve unravels when you feel arousal pool low in your belly, heat blooming as it glues your panties to your core.
“you’re all i need… and i should be all you need,” he says, voice dark as it drops octaves lower than its usual range. his eyes bore into yours, lips tugging up ever so slightly. “don’t be scared, angel. you know i’d never hurt you, right? you know all i want is to love you. i’d do anything to keep you all to myself.”
it feels like he’s putting you under some kind of spell. you dig your heels in mentally, forcing yourself to remember why you came here—to stand your ground, to leave, to not fold.
you try to break eye contact, but he won’t let you. his fingers close around your chin, firm and unyielding, pulling your attention right back where he wants it. “no, look at me, honey.” he says, voice low. “answer me: you know i’d never hurt you, right?”
he makes you nod with the grip on your chin. “i-i know.” you reply, voice cracking and stomach jostling.
“you’re safe with me. you’ll always be safe with me.” he says, a smile touching his lips. he leans it, nose brushing against yours as he says, “we’re going to be together forever and ever. i’ll show you.”
—
xavier wastes no time flipping you over and bending you over the island, your face smooshed against the cool marble. your leggings are pulled down and his cock is inside you, exploring every single inch of your cunt with no barrier. you can’t find it in you to protest for him to wear a condom when you feel fuller… when he somehow feels even bigger.
drool seeps from your lips, pooling on the smooth surface as he fucks you senseless almost as if he has something to prove in his thrusts.
he pushes deep into you, grinding his tip against your sweetest spot. “you feel me, honey? feel how i’m fucking you raw?” he grunts the words out, one hand on your waist as the other splays between your shoulder blades. “this is how we’re gonna do it from now on, got it?”
your eyes roll, pussy clamping tight around him. the veins of his cock brand themselves into your walls. he’s ruining you for everyone else. marking his territory.
you can’t even respond—the only noises that can be pulled from you are garbled moans of his name and choked sobs. you’re a complete and utter mess, reduced to nothing but tears, drool and arousal.
he resumes his thrusts, pulling out and ramming back into you. “fuck you raw, fill you with my cum and get you pregnant.” he whispers and it has your eyes shooting open, your stomach hallowing out and your cunt gripping him like never before.
“w-what?” your broken voice rings in his ears and it elicits a little moan from him. his cock twitches wildly inside of you, balls drawing up by the lilt of panic in your voice. “wait—wait, xavie, ‘m, hah! shit, ‘m not on the pill. y-you can’t cum i-inside!”
he lets out a soft, breathy chuckle. “don’t worry, honey,” he says, voice steady. “i’ll take care of you—of us. you just take it. be good and take it because it’s what you’re made for.”
and you do. you give in just like he tells you to, fingers digging into the edge of the countertop as your body betrays you. each movement pulls a sharp, helpless sound from your throat, clipped moans spilling out of you as easily as the warmth gathering between your thighs.
“i promise, this–this… will make us closer,” he pants, thrusts getting quicker as he gets closer and closer to letting go. he’s on the precipice of an orgasm, length throbbing, tummy knotting up. “just hold still.”
then you feel the sudden warmth flooding your pussy. he’s shooting into you, ribbon after ribbon of warm cum while he groans prettily in your ear. it triggers your orgasm, your body convulses as your walls spasm and drench his cock in your slick.
[fem reader] contains: age gap relationship, innocent reader
pairing: young politician coriolanus snow x fem reader
summary: you wear too short of a dress for coryo's liking
author's note: thank you @phantomamor for inspiring me darling <3 <3
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All your life you'd dreamt of falling in love. Of being whisked away by the man of your dreams in a magical way. Whenever you looked at the illustrations of princesses in your storybooks, you imagined being swept off your feet by a handsome Prince Charming.
There was no royalty in Panem, but Coriolanus Snow was about the closest thing to a prince you could find. He had charmed his way right into your heart, and you wouldn't have it any other way. He was completely enamored of you, his sweetheart, as he called you.
It was exciting for you to be in the public eye, on the arm of a promising up-and-coming politician. The tabloids splashed your picture across their covers, ones with your hand hooked in Coriolanus' elbow, a sweet smile on your face. You weren't used to all this attention, and so you clung to him at all the fancy events he brought you to, which he adored.
Sometimes there were whispers about the two of you, usually about your age difference. It was true that he was ten years your senior, but you couldn't see why that mattered so much. You loved him. And he loved you. He loved you so much that he'd arranged for you to come live in his fancy penthouse so he could have you near, right where he wanted. You had your own pretty bedroom done up exactly how you wanted, a closet full of beautiful things, and his undying affection.
With all the parties you attended by his side, there were all sorts of rules you had to learn that you didn't know about before, things you hadn't even thought of. Coriolanus was always sweet about teaching you, gently reminding you of certain things and making sure you were comfortable among his acquaintances.
You had learned so much in the time you'd spent with him. Which was why when Coriolanus phoned from work to tell you he'd be late and you should go ahead to the party without him, you didn't feel any twinges of anxiety like you would have a year ago. He told you hurriedly that he'd be along eventually, and you happily assured him you'd be just fine.
And you were! You breezed through the party, speaking to everybody you knew and greeting those you didn’t with a smile. You remembered everyone's name and lots of things about them. Coriolanus would be so happy with you. He'd drilled it into your head about making connections for him and you were confident that you'd been able to do it here.
You were speaking with the wife of another senator when you spotted your husband at the edge of the room looking directly at you. Gasping in delight, you excused yourself and hurried over to him, throwing your arms around his neck. "How was work?"
"What is this?" His tone of voice made you stop in your tracks. You looked down at yourself as if you'd forgotten, at your pale pink dress with the low neckline and short-ish skirt. It was pretty- you'd ordered it from a catalogue a month ago and had been dying for an excuse to wear it. Looking at yourself in the mirror before the party, you'd felt pretty. You'd thought he would like it.
In a small voice, you answered. "A dress."
He exhaled through his nose, taking your hand and pulling you into the hallway, shutting the door and muffling the noise of the gathering. "It's shorter than the dresses you usually wear."
"I thought-"
"You can't wear things like this in public," he said sharply, fingers finding your neckline and adjusting it, pulling it up as your lower lip wobbled. His sharp words sent a pang to your chest, and you found yourself fighting back tears. He was usually so gentle with you, conscious of your tender heart and wide-eyed view of the world.
You felt yourself crumble. All this time you'd thought you were doing a good job. "I didn't know," you whispered, eyes watery.
Coriolanus took you by the shoulders, turning you around. You felt his fingers in your hair, undoing the bow you'd so carefully tied when you were getting ready. He smoothed your hair out, tucking it behind your ears from behind. "I trusted you to pick out something nice."
"It was pretty," you tried, but the tears were seeping into your voice.
He came around to face you again, brow furrowed. Tucking your ribbon into his pocket, he cupped your face, brushing away the tear that had slipped out. "I know. I know, sweetheart." Coriolanus leaned in to kiss your forehead. "But I don't want anybody to say anything bad about you. You know how they can be." You nodded tearfully, sniffling and wiping your eyes, a little of your mascara coming off on your fingers.
Coriolanus smoothed your hair again. "I'm sorry. Work was a mess today and I-" he cut himself off. You lowered your gaze and he continued. "I'm sorry. You were trying your best."
You still didn't look at him, wallowing in your own shame. Coriolanus tilted your chin up. "Come on. Let's go back in."
The last thing you wanted to do was go back in and smile as if everything was okay. But you nodded meekly, clinging to his offered arm and letting him lead you through the door and into the party again.
This time you were more conscious of the way people looked at you, the way they lingered at your low neckline, your skirt that didn't quite reach your knees. One man in particular kept his eyes on you longer than you would have liked to know, causing you to dig your pink manicured nails into Coriolanus' elbow. He covered your hand with his, lowering his head to check on you. The second he saw the look on your face, he gave your wrist a pat. "Let's go home, darling."
He lifted your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingers, and you trailed behind him like a dejected kitten. On the car ride home, you were quiet, tucking your legs onto the seat and folding your arms. You couldn't help your tears, letting them fall freely now that you were in private. Your makeup had to be a mess by now, but you hardly cared.
Coriolanus reached over, pulling one of your legs into his lap. He fiddled with the strap of your shoe, undoing it swiftly and sliding it off. You watched him do the same with your other shoe, hooking the straps under his fingers and stretching out his arm to pull you close. He kissed your temple, arm holding your shoes sliding under your knees, the other finding your back. When the car stopped, he hauled you out and carried you upstairs, your face buried in his chest the entire time.
You didn't speak much, embarrassed over your mistake. What would they print about you the next day? Would they say bad things about Coriolanus because of what you'd worn? The thoughts tortured you all through the night and into the morning.
He had fallen asleep next to you, but when you awoke he was gone. Usually before he went to work, he would give you a kiss, maybe whisper something sweet before he departed. You reached for your pink bunny plushie with the ribbon around its neck, holding it tight and trying not to cry again. Sitting up, you tried not to imagine what he might say to you tonight when he came home.
The day was spent trying to distract yourself. You were obsessing over the mistake you'd made, upset that your efforts to please him had produced the opposite effect. Really, you should have known better, just like he said. Coriolanus had big plans for the future, and if you kept making mistakes like this, you could delay them, or worse, ruin everything.
When you finally heard his footsteps in the hallway, you righted your book, pretending as though you'd been reading the whole time. You didn't want him to know how you'd been obsessing over something silly like this.
At the light knock on your slightly open door, you looked up, seeing him standing there with a bunch of pink roses in one hand, a box in the other. You set your book to the side, unfolding your legs and stretching.
He set the roses on your dresser, coming over to press a kiss to your forehead. "How are you, darling?"
"Good," you smiled, squeezing his hand.
Coriolanus knelt in front of you, rubbing your thigh, his bright blue eyes fixed on you. He thumbed the fabric of your dress for a moment. “Sweetheart…I wanted to apologize again about yesterday.” He clasped his hand in yours, kissing your knuckles. “I was upset at you for something that wasn’t your fault.”
“I should have known better,” you murmured, and he shook his head, reaching up to rest his palm on your cheek, touch gentle as a butterfly’s wing.
“I’ve been too harsh on you,” he said quietly. You leaned into his touch, and he stood, lifting you out of the chair so he could sit. Once he was settled, he pulled you sideways into his lap and you folded yourself into him, snuggling into his chest.
“No, I’ve been naive,” you whispered, your fingers hooking on his pocket.
“No.” He shook his head, hand on your head to bring it to rest on his chest. “Darling…I’ve been worried too much about how the public will perceive us. Especially with you being so young.”
“I haven’t been good enough,” you murmured.
Coriolanus shook his head, kissing your hair and stroking your back, adjusting the strap of your dress over your shoulder. ”You believe your youth is a hindrance. But it makes you a treasure.” He took your face in his hand, rubbing your cheek. “I love the way you see the world, sweetheart. I love everything about you.”
You touched his wrist, leaning into his palm. “I love you too. Coryo…” Sitting up in his lap, you reached for his hands and he let you take them to hold, thumb automatically going to the ring on his finger, pressing into the indent of it. “You’ve given me so much that I couldn’t begin to repay-“
“You do every day,” he breathed, squeezing your hands. “Being at my side, choosing to stay. Loving me…I don’t deserve it. But the least I can do is give you what I can. What you deserve.”
Feeling as though you were going to cry again, you buried your face in his chest, and he cradled you close. “I liked the dress.”
“You did?” You peeked up at him, and he smiled fondly, smoothing your hair back.
“I did,” he said, squeezing your side. “Just…not for everyone to see, alright?”
“Alright,” you said, heart fluttering at the way he looked at you.
“I got this for you.” Coriolanus placed the little box he’d brought with the roses into your hand. When you opened it, the pale pink diamond necklace made you gasp.
“Oh, Coryo,” you whispered, hand flying to your lips. He lifted the string of jewels from the box, fastening it around your neck and carefully lifting your hair from the chain. Touching the diamond, you leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “It’s beautiful.”
“I want you to have beautiful things,” Coriolanus said softly, kissing you once more.
He was no stranger to a gift. Often, boxes would appear in your closet containing handbags, expensive lingerie, shoes. You usually picked out your own jewelry, but this only proved further that his taste when it came to you was exquisite.
Touching the necklace again, you smiled. “I love it.”
“My angel,” he muttered, holding you closer. The feeling of safety that always encompassed you when he was near was prominent. You were secure in his love, encased in it and protected.
It didn’t matter what anyone said. Cuddled into his arms surrounded by proof of his love, you had everything you needed. Your fairy tale come true.
Warnings:: p in v, dacryphilia, Sylus is BIG, descriptions of reader having a low cervix, size difference, reader is whiny.
Sylus almost felt a hint of remorse for how he might ruin you. You followed him around like a lost kitten. You clung to his fingers when you were scared or buried your face in his shoulder to hide.
He would immediately feel bad when he raised his voice to snap at a guard. Your pretty eyes would swell with tears and he would stop what he was doing to cup your face until your cheeks squished and lips puckered. “I’m sorry, Kitten. Forgive me.”
But what he wasn’t sorry for, is how perfect you looked breaking apart on his cock. You had never managed to take all of him. A few thick inches still poked out from your wet folds every time. But that didn’t stop the slobbering, drooling, tear-filled mess you became.
“C-can’t-! Mm gonna tear!” You cry out under him. The expensive Italian sheets under you, a rich crimson, threaten to rip from how hard you grab them.
He hushes your cries and unbends your fingers from the sheets. “Easy Kitten. Put those claws away. I know it hurts. But you're being so brave for me.” His voice is like a balm. You sniffle and wiggle on his cock. His composure breaks for a split second. His eyes snap shut and a low growl escapes him. You immediately tense up, a fresh wave of tears forming when you think you’ve upset him.
“S-sorry!” You squeak out, but your inner walls just flutter more. “I-I’ll try harder! I can-“
Sylus pushes his thumb past your kiss-swollen lips to silence your babbling. “We’ve talked about this.” His voice is solid and you know not to interrupt. His free hand trails to the bulge in your tummy. His fingertips poke against the outline of his length and you hiccup. “You can’t take anymore. It’s what we agreed on.”
It’s true. The first time you had managed to convince him to fuck him with more than just fingers and tongue, you had cried. Your hole had bled and Sylus had bought out the claw machines at the arcade for you.
So now, he was more than content watching you come apart on the few inches he could give you before the cockhead met the cervix. Sylus popped his thumb out of your mouth and cupped your flushed cheeks. His massive frame curved over you, forearms resting on either side of your head.
“You’re perfect. This pretty hole was created just for me.” His honeyed voice makes the tears slowly start to dry as you wipe your eyes with the back of a balled-up fist. Sylus chuckles and kisses your forehead. He starts to rock those few inches into you just to watch you come apart again. It’s not long before your cheeks are covered with streaks of tears yet again.
He’d never tell you he does this on purpose.
A/N: GUYS IM ALIVE I PROMISE! I’m posting this for Sylus’ upcoming bday I’m so excited! ALSO I MISS YKU GUYS SM ANDHCHCH.
Imagine: The first time Na'vi! Caleb sees a human.
Content warning: size difference, possessive!Caleb, obsessive!Caleb, use of she/her pronouns, feral behaviour.
Authors note: Translations from Na'vi to English are ordered according as sentences appear. You can find the translations at the bottom of the post. The translations I did may not be at all correct because I translated word by word trying to make each sentence coherent by using the dictionaries and translators of Na’vi language. Sorry for the incorrect grammatical pronunciations. Also sorry for gramatical errors, english it's not my first language.
Credits to divider: @cafekitsune
Na'vi! Caleb, who was going out for a hunt, all damp from the rain. The sound of the droplets mixed with everything, making his hearing difficult to his surroundings, but the scents in the forest are more prominent to his nose thanks to that. His eyes are focused on every move, watching his steps of a possible mistake to scare away the prey, but there is something strange, something new, an aroma he has never smelled before. It was sweet, ripe like a pale pod; his fangs itched at the mere thought of running his tongue over it, licking, sucking, marking. He shook his head trying to come back to his senses, it was intoxicating.
His long muscular legs moved with stealthiness at each step he took, moving the dirt beneath his feet with ease, bow in one hand and the other adjusting his arrow, ready to shoot and kill. He aims in front of him in a single movement, shoulders flexing and torso expanding, but he stops abruptly when he sees you. A human.
Caleb lowers his arrow as he looks at your terrified expression. His eyes observing your smaller form, soft compared to a Na’vi body, weaker. Your chest was plump, two small buds peeking against the wet clothes by the cold, and your aroma, it was intoxicating, it made his heart accelerate, making him feel strange, a sensation of deja vu, members of his clan describing that sensation when finding a mate.
He was fascinating; so this is how a human female looked like, compared to a female Na’vi body, they had some similarities.
He relaxed his pose, less intimidating, he hadn't meant to scare you. “Mawey… Tawtute”. He kneels, raising his hands showing you he is no threat, looking at each of your reactions, how your breathing becomes slower, the way you stop biting your lower lip and your nails stop digging in your palms. He points at his chest “Caleb” he says slowly, tapping his fingers and repeating his name. You gulp the fear down your throat as you imitate the gesture of his hands, you pronounce your name; Caleb savorates each syllable in his tongue, your name was so precious to him now, he would never get tired of repeating it.
Na'vi! Caleb, who’s first time seeing a human. He was taught since young that the sky people were soulless creatures, who worshipped the steel like a god, destroying everything in their path. He was supposed to hate humans, kill them; but looking at you made all those hostile thoughts disappear. Humans were demons, then why did you look as if Eywa had created you just for him? So small, so soft, so vulnerable, his mate. Your head barely could reach his hipbone, and still, in your eyes he could see your feistiness.
You were wearing a strange kind of large white tunic that was soaked by the rain, he could inspect that synthetic material later, right now he needs to get you to a safer place, dry and cozy, like hell he was going back to hometree so his clan could question him and kill you after it. What he didn't know is that you had got lost after escaping the RDA laboratories.
Na'vi! Caleb who holds you with ease despite your restless movements, he was being careful, bringing you to his hunting spot above from the ground. It was too high to escape as you looked down from the branch. The higher you both were it was safer, he thought as he began to descend the tree. “Wait! I don’t want to be left here!” you told him, grabbing for dear life at the trunk behind you. But Caleb didn’t understand your language, so he just understood your desperate actions for some kind of need, maybe some food. “Tawtute ohakx, tätxaw mawkrra”, he smiled at you as he left.
You didn’t understand a single word that came from his mouth, ironic, since you were born in Pandora, but growing up with humans in the laboratories was different; speaking your native language every day and barely hearing one or two Na’vi words all your life. That happens when the RDA decides that it’s a great idea that humans should grow a neural queue by changing their DNA, still considering today that the Avatar project was a waste of time and this being the solution for the future human race. You had escaped.
Na'vi! Caleb, who is back from a successful hunt, begins to clean the carcass and starts a fire, roasting the meat and mixing with some vegetables. After he finishes he extends the bowl at you, but you backed away without taking your eyes off him, you didn’t know if all Pandora’s food was edible for humans. Caleb observed you, concerned as you weren’t accepting the food he had made specifically to make you gain more calories by the coldness of your body. He smiled again, this time bringing the bowl near your face, caressing your leg as a way to comfort you, “Nga zene yom”, but you looked away. That was not the reaction he wanted.
If Eywa had sent him this human girl as a mate, it was his duty to care for her, to protect her, to keep her warm and full. Maybe she was being shy, still not recognizing his caring as a devoted future mate, he thought. She just needed time.
You screamed when suddenly you were picked up and placed on Caleb’s lap, one hand holding you down, his fingers almost covering your abdomen and waist completely. He reached for the bowl taking in between his fingers a piece of meat and bringing it to your mouth; you backed away again, desperately trying to get off of him, “I don’t want it, it’s not safe”, he interpreted your words as if you were scared of the food, “Mawey, syuve ke txumnga’ ’”, he brought the meat to his mouth as his fangs tore a piece, chewing and swallowing, showing you there was no danger. You didn’t oppose him this time, he waited patiently until you opened your mouth and chewed. He caressed your bottom lip as a reward, “Sìltsan lefnele”.
Na'vi! Caleb, who becomes more obsessed of you as the days pass. Most of the time he is near you, keeping a watchful eye on your movements as he sits on the edge of the branch cleaning his weapons meticulously. You would’ve thought he was just observing his bow, but when you attempt to put a foot out from the pelts he arranged especially for you, he would immediately look inside the tree. Freezing you would cover yourself again and not dare to come out.
You look down at the forest floor, it was a strange place but majestic at the same time, growing up surrounded by white walls was all you knew. The people at RDA told you stories about earth, how once it was a place full of green growing life, today in day it was ruled by steel. You flinched when you suddenly felt his presence behind, you looked up at him as his yellow eyes observed every detail at the light of the sun, his hand resting on his hip and the other caressing your cheek. “Could you help me get down?” you hoped he understood this time, just a little bit, but Caleb only smiled and walked away starting to prepare dinner. Maybe it was time to find a way down from this gigantic tree on your own.
Na'vi Caleb was so gentle with you, each step he took was three for you, so trying to avoid his massive body was complicated. He would kneel waiting for you to approach, you would ignore him; sometimes he was tracing and twirling the locks of your hair, taking his time to comb out the knots, but when his fingers got near your neural queue, at least that was what humans called it, you would step out from his embrace leaving him dumbfounded. That place on your nape made you really sensitive, so letting someone else touch it wasn’t that comfortable. Caleb didn't seem to mind letting you be, it was strange for him seeing a kuru on a human but didn’t dare to touch further. Grateful to Eywa by letting you breathe Pandora’s air, he could try asking later.
There were days you weren't in mood of feeling his hands enveloping or caressing your body so you would yell at him for some space and punching his chest at the same time, barely feeling any pain by your small hands but he listened; Caleb understood basic emotions in other creatures so your anger didn’t look alien to him, he would let you be, going out for hours and bringing back bigger hunts and sometimes courting gifts hoping it would make you happy. When you accepted his offerings he would just give you that big puppy smile and making those strange purring sounds from his chest.
It was starting to get suffocating staying at the same place after days, it's not like you had another place to go, the RDA was all you knew and this small tree home. So when Caleb began to climb down you followed, alarmed he immediately climbed back up carrying you in his hand with a swift motion, your feet touching the branch again. “Let me come down with you! It’s getting boring being up here alone for hours.”, Caleb only looked at you, “Lehrrap, tawtute hì'i sì kì'ong. Nga ke tsun nong oe mi. Fìtseng kxuke ne nga”. You didn’t understand the meaning of his words, but his expression said it all when he began to descend again, he would be back at nightfall. You couldn’t wait another day like this, it was becoming claustrophobic in a way.
An hour passed by, it was time. Holding for dear life at every branch and vines, your feet carefully stepping at giant fungus; it may have taken you half an hour, but finally you were standing on the wet soil ground. You ran away from that place.
Na'vi Caleb, who got back from another successful hunt, wanting to surprise you with some sweet fruit he found on his way, imagining the expression on your face when you gave the first bite just made his heart flutter. As he entered his small home he was welcomed by silence, your scent was still there but you were nowhere to see; his instincts were on full alert in an instance, searching for any trace of a predator, crouching as he moved in a slow calculated pace around the room, he lifted up the pelts you slept in, searched the treetop, inside his small home again, but you weren't there. As he stood outside on the branch his eyes traveled all the way down to the base of the tree, his pupils contracted. “Skxawng”.
There were too many dangerous in Pandora’s forest, animals could easily attack a human and devour them, poisonous plants could spray their toxic spores at you and would be dead in seconds, you could fall at the river bank hitting your head with a rock at the tumultuous current, or a Na’vi from his clan could find you in his path and kill you without hesitation. His people couldn’t understand the connection he had felt the first time he saw you, so there was no safer place than staying by his side.
He was a hunter, a skillful hunter. So finding you wouldn't take him that long. His hands traced the wet soil, his developed sense of smell perceiving the aromas nearby, a faint sweet scent of sweat droplets was still in the air impregnated in the plants.
You were running, but he already knew where you were going.
| Translations |
Mawey… Tawtute: Calm down… Human.
Tawtute ohakx, tätxaw mawkrra: Human hungry, return later.
Nga zene yom: You must eat.
Mawey, syuve ke txumnga’: Calm down, food not poisonous.
Sìltsan lefnele: Good female.
Lehrrap, tawtute hì'i sì kì'ong. Nga ke tsun nong oe mi. Fìtseng kxuke ne nga: Dangerous, human small and slow. You still can't keep up with me. Here is safe for you.
Skxawng: Idiot.
Authors note: Thankssss for reading. It's been a long time since I wrote fics again, it feels like the first time that it made me nervous to publish. Maybe I'll right a second part if my inspirations doesn't vanish lol.
pleaseee can we get robby’s reaction to reader shaving her bush?!
I am also a bush advocate and i just know he’d be heartbroken
oh god if jack was jokey about telling you what to do robby is not joking!! nothing is funny!!
he's had such a shitty shift and has been looking forward to crawling into your arms for hours, and maybe he should've paid more attention to the way jack smirked into his beer when you crawled into his lap. robby's hands run up your thighs and under the big shirt you're wearing, his fingers search for your pantyclad slit and the pretty curls that usually frame it but he finds it.... bare.
he pulls away, "what the fuck?"
"oh god, not you too!"
"told you," jack snorts.
robby pulls your shirt up with one hand while the other tugs at the waistband of your underwear. he looks down at your pussy and frowns. "honey, what—"
"I shaved okay!" you push his hand away, "I just—I meant to just do the sides so it wouldn't show in my swimsuit but..." you shrug. robby's frown deepens the more you talk, you laugh and smooth away the wrinkles between his brows with your thumb. "it'll grown back. I promise."
+ that night robby fucks you until you're all weepy, making you come over and over again, spanking your little pussy raw :( all smack smack smack while he makes you apologize for messing with perfection </3
“Hah… pips…! Slow down, ‘m so close to cumming,” Caleb whimpers, fingers digging into your waist. You’ve been at it for a while, reveling in the tension and heat filling Caleb’s bedroom.
You reply with your own whine, shaking your head as you push your hips down, hands desperately clutching his sheets. The friction from rubbing your crotch against his feels so good. “Hey, don’t cum without me, Caleb!”
The sight of you in his lap childishly whining in nothing but his shirt and some panties has Caleb’s eyes rolling back. You grind your hips against his, making him bite his swollen bottom lip to hold back his moans, one of his hands reaching up to tug at your hair in an attempt to slow you down.
The bedroom is filled with the sound of your laboured breathing, whines and whimpers slipping past your lips.
“Pips, ‘m being serious, please. I’m seriously about to cum…hngh!” You interrupt him by sliding your fingers up his shirt to pinch and tug at his sensitive nipples, Caleb’s hips jerking up at the stimulation. “W-wait!”
“So good,” you mewl, eyes fluttering as drool threatens to escape past your lips. His bulge is rubbing you just right, the fabric of his sweats damp with your juices. “My cunny can feel you through your pants…”
“Don’t just say that!” He tugs your hair harder, voice strained and desperate. “Please, you need to slow down, you feel too good…”
Fingers slowly wrapping around your wrists, he gently tugs your hands away from his sensitive nubs. The faint brush of your fingertips letting go makes his hips involuntarily buck up against you again. “Hah…!”
The pressure makes your eyes teary, cheeks flushing. “Calebbb!” Eyes half-lidded with want you cover his lips with yours and pathetically mouth at him, groaning when he tries to kiss you back.
“I’m gonna cum,” he pants against your lips, struggling to keep up the pace. Your tongues slide against each other, filled with spit and heavy breaths.
The frantic frotting makes his whole body shudder as you keep pushing against him, his hips giving one final desperate thrust. "No, no, no!" Caleb moans brokenly into your mouth, chanting your name as he cums hard, head falling back against the pillows.
His cock twitches, still tucked in his sweats and boxers as his creamy semen seeps through the fabric. Caleb’s head falls down on your shoulder as cries fall out of his mouth, too sensitive as you continue to use his bulge like a toy.
“I said not to cum without me,” you wail, holding onto his shoulders tight as you overstimulate him.
His whole body trembles as you keep moving, nerves fraying. “Pips, just give me- hah, a few minutes! Seconds even!” His voice cracks, fingers weakly scrambling to grip your hips but failing as another small wave of pleasure rips through him.
When you ignore his babbling, his teeth sink gently into your shoulder, muffling his whimpers as his legs spread wider under you, helpless.
You frot against his clothed, softening length, eager to finally reach your orgasm. Your toes curl when you nudge your clit perfectly against his cock, seeing stars behind your eyelids as you finally cum.
His eyes roll back as he feels your body tense and release, his own sensitive cock twitching at the sudden pressure against his softening member. A choked whimper escapes him as he feels your warmth soaking into his sweats, your pleasure triggering another small, weak orgasm from him. "F-fuck..."
“Language,” you scold weakly, ears ringing as you fall limply against his sturdy chest. You’re sweaty and out of breath, scowling at Caleb’s dopey grin.
"That was hot." He admits, his face flushing pink as he looks up at you. "You cummin’ on me like that..."
“…!” You pinch his thigh with an embarrassed whine and press more of your weight onto him. “Whatever just… h-help me clean up, I can’t feel my legs.”
Sylus soothes you during your period (he sits you on his lap, says sweet things, then eats you out).
pet names (baby, little kitty), mention of period sex
He tugs you down onto him, his large hand pressing against your lower back firmly. "Tell me where it hurts," he says as his palm starts a slow circular path, soothing.
You touch your own belly wordlessly, too moody and tired to bother verbalising your discomfort.
He uses his hand at your back to shove you up against him harder, the heat from his body acting quickly to soothe your cramping belly and sensitive heart.
"Let me see you," he says, large palms cupping your cheeks and guiding your gaze upwards. He chuckles a little--a small puff of breath against your lips. "It must be serious..." he continues as his thumb strokes your cheek, "...with a pout like that."
"It hurts."
"In your belly?"
You nod.
"Poor baby," he coos. "Let me make it better, hm?"
He starts with a soft kiss to your temple, then your forehead, your closed eyelids, across the bridge of your nose, your cheeks, cupids bow, chin... a brush across your lips... then he starts again. "My poor little kitty," he mutters between rounds of sweet, delicate kisses.
And when you find yourself drifting, almost asleep in his lap.... you're falling. Falling back into the cushions of the couch, looking up at him as he hovers over you.
"I'll make it all better," he says again, almost under his breath.
And as he strips your shorts from your legs and lifts you up to his mouth, you catch the glow of his eye, red to match blood he soon laps from your aching cunt.
Thinking about being sandwiched between Satoru and Choso in the middle of a good boy competition, except it's not really a competition because Choso isn't competing. He's winning and it's pissing Satoru off.
They both sit on their knees in front of you, Choso the picture of patience, waiting for whatever command you give. His eyes are soft and half lidded, looking up at you with pure adoration pouring from his heart shaped pupils.
Satoru keeps fidgeting and side eyeing him because how the fuck does he do it? Satoru has tried endlessly to copy him, to be the one to win your affection first for once, but he can't. It only makes it worse that Choso is so god damn nice about it - always kissing Satoru afterward and telling him he'll let him go first if he wants to next time.
But that's not really up to them, is it?
"C'mere, Cho," you say, beckoning him forward with a wiggle of your index finger.
Satoru's eyes widen, opening his mouth to complain about how you're 'picking favorites', just to snap it shut when you direct a stern look his way. He doesn't want to end up gagged again. His jaw tenses instead, averting his gaze so he doesn't have to see the way your pussy glistens in the dim bedroom light as your spread your legs for Choso.
Envy burns hot in his chest. His eye twitches. His cock throbs.
Fuck.
Satoru expects Choso to start shuffling forward on his knees and the sound of him lapping at your pussy to quickly follow as per usual, already drawing in a deep breath to sigh out the second Choso attaches his lips to your clit, but that's not what happens.
"No."
Satoru's head snaps to the side, eyes widening again at the sound of the world's best boy being defiant for once.
"What?" Is your only response, straightening your spine to sit up in your seat as the word registers, just as shocked as Satoru that Choso isn't already whimpering between your legs.
"I said, no." Choso clarifies, as if he wasn't heard the first time. A smirk is stretching his lips, his head tilting to the side.
It takes everything in Satoru to not chuckle, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you. If he remains neutral, he'll probably still get his reward and oh-
Oh.
That's what he's doing. He is so getting his dick sucked for this.
You look away first and sit back in your chair. This is uncharted territory and Satoru is praying you'll take the bait. Things are silent for a few moments, your displeased hum the only sound to break the silence.
You pick at your nails considering your options, not even looking at them. Satoru takes the chance to press a quick kiss to Choso's cheek and Choso nudges him away, a bashful blush heating his face.
When you finally look back up, they've schooled their expressions like the interaction never happened - Choso's gone back to his defiant little head tilt and smirk and Satoru's put on his best puppy eyes.
"Fine," you say, getting comfortable in your seat again now that you've decided on a course of action. You start that sinful spread of your legs, never breaking eye contact with Choso causing Satoru's heart to still in his chest. There is no fucking way you're going to choose him first again.
And then:
"Toru baby?" Your gaze drags to Satoru, your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
"Yes ma'am?" It's nearly a whisper, his voice cracking at the end.
sylus who thinks you're really cute when you're sleepy enough to make you act a bit dazed and out of it!! his teasing voice and soft touches and the adoration and love in his eyes as he gazes down at you..,mgggdfggh
"Aw, baby," he coos as you climb into bed beside him, just barely having dragged yourself through your nighttime routine. You barely even notice his tone of voice, just nuzzling into his warm palm when he cups your face. "Are you sleepy? Hmmm?"
You nod, and he hums, softly stroking your cheek with his thumb. He studies your features for a few moments, watching as you start to doze off against his hand like a cat.
You fight off the urge to sleep in order to look up at him with half-open eyes and mumble something unintelligible, causing a smirk to grow on his face as he huffs out a laugh. "What was that, sweetie?"
You try to repeat yourself, but all that comes out of your lips is gibberish. Sylus chuckles, not bothering to ask a second time. He just threads his free hand beneath your (his) shirt to gently run his nails up and down your back. You sigh, melting at his touch and slumping forward.
"Mmm, come closer," he murmurs, and you obey, nuzzling into his chest. "Thaaat's it. Let me hold you."
He guides you to lie down with him, and you follow pliantly, already halfway to dreamland.
Synopsis: You're obsessed with your older boyfriend, you can't help it!
Tags: DILF!Leon (re9 requiem) x Fem!reader, age gap, cheeky reader, attempt at humor, silly nicknames (and little use of daddy), established relationship, masturbation and blowjob (m receiving), swallowing semen, dick worship, Leon slightly whiny and more!
Note: Ugh, I can't stop thinking about him!! I would adore him for the rest of my days, fr😋 this post is based on this, enjoy!
Leon's whole world had turned upside down because of one cute little thing: you.
He didn't know how it had happened, you simply entered his heart and turned his brain to mush. And come on, he was a grown man and wasn't supposed to be playing house with a girl as pretty as you, but damn it, he really adores you.
You're simply dazzling. You like to look beautiful, you're attentive, and you like to play with him, making a older and more experienced man feel flushed as if he were a damn teenager. You're just a cheeky one, saying whatever comes to mind when you see him.
And Leon tried to keep up with you.
"You look so daddy right now." you'd commented once, watching him from the doorway as he got ready for one of your date nights. He turned around, confused, half-buttoning his shirt. "What does that mean?" he asked, looking at himself in the mirror again, confused. But you just laughed and went into the bathroom to continue getting ready.
"Do I look too old?" he whispered to himself, dismissing it before continuing to button his shirt.
In another situation, you'd find yourself staring at his well-defined arms while he fixed a leaky faucet in his kitchen. You'd shamelessly bite your lip and let out giggles that only you understood.
"I really want you to give me a headlock, Lee." you said, in that sweet little voice of yours. And he just stood there, staring at you as if you'd said something in a new language. But he quickly let out a half-laugh, embarrassed. "Oh my goodness, baby." was all he said, but you could see the smile on his face. He enjoyed your attention. He enjoyed every comment you made, feeling desired.
But you just had no mercy for him. Saying things like, "You're fucking hot, babe." while sitting on his lap and kissing his cheeks, or "I wanna suck your dick—" while you were shopping or at some boring dinner, with that exasperating pout as if it were the most normal thing in the world. And Leon would just look away, almost shyly, with that same embarrassed laugh, holding you closer to him.
You were just shameless, like now. You were comfortably between his legs, lazily giving him a handjob, watching his red, sensitive tip drip down your fingers. Occasionally ran your tongue over the sensitive tip to "clean" it.
"Pretty cock, honey." you murmured, smiling as you felt his cock throb in your grip. "It's so big—I love it." you said, looking at him through your lashes with those big eyes. Leon let out little groans, putting his arm over his eyes to hide the heat rising from his neck to his face. He was fucking cute.
"Don't, Don't say things like that." He groan, moving his arm to look at you as if he were trying to scold you, though the way his hard cock twitched between your fingers when you complimented him gave it away completely. He enjoyed being the object of your attention, he loved it.
"Why not? It's the truth." You stated proudly, tightening your grip at the base of his hard cock. You brought your glistening lips to his heavy balls, sucking gently to give them attention as well. And Leon's soul simply sank.
He let out the most dirtiest moan as he threw his head back at the same time his hips lifted. Oh, he was sensitive here.
He could barely keep his eyes open the moment your hand began to masturbate him properly, rotating your wrist appropriately and sucking on his balls. You were completely wetting his flushed cock with your saliva. Fucking wet. The sticky sound of your hand sliding up and down his member filled the room.
"God, baby." He groaned, his voice trembling, and you might laugh if your mouth weren't full right now. "You're fucking amazing..." he whined. Really whining now that your mouth was sucking on the dripping tip of his hard dick. His big, thick thighs tensed at your sides every time your tongue traced that swollen vein along its base.
"I'm not gonna last, fuck, fuck—" He warned, thrusting his hips upward to choke you with his twitching cock, but it was too late because he was already coming hard in your throat. You stayed there, with one of his hands on your head, letting him empty himself completely into your mouth.
His body relaxed on the sheets, sweaty and with a silly grin on his lips. He barely opened his eyes before your mouth was on his, kissing him and tangling your tongue with his, letting him taste the remnants of himself in your mouth.
When you broke the kiss, Leon opened his mouth to say something, but you already had the advantage. "Tastes good, doesn't it?" you asked, your eyelids heavy and a satisfied smile on your swollen lips.
Once again, Leon didn't know what he was going to do with you, he was going to go crazy.
I never get tired of this, I fucking need him ughh my man, my man😩😩
Support is always welcome, and let me know if you liked it, tyyᡣ𐭩
