#and the clouds are sucking up all the heat from the ground

[sellenite]

random musings on the mood of a strong, summer thunderstorm:

heat that clings to your skin—dewy with a sheen of sweat, but it turns to prickled goosebumps when the breeze smooths over you.

the roll of thunder starts out dull, but it gets deeper, cracks louder, as it gets closer. you can see the sky darkening—inky blue like the color of the deep ocean—and drawing together.

there's a heaviness to the air; the potential for the pour of rain to start at any second, but for a moment all of the unspilt energy just hangs, suspended in the clouds above.

[fayerie]

you’d been dodging him all day.

a door closed gently in the morning, an excuse at lunch that even you didn’t believe. you drifted through your home like mist, choreographing your disappearance with practiced steps - ducking around corners, shrinking into silence each time you caught the rustle of his newspaper or the soft clink of his watch as he adjusted it for the third time.

you wore invisibility like a cloak, moving as a ghost through the rooms you used to share with ease.

because your skin had betrayed you again - four angry blemishes rising red and bright across your cheek and jaw, blooming like a constellation born to shame you.

it wasn’t the worst you’d had, sure. but it was enough to make you recoil from the mirror, to keep your face turned away, to lower your face when nanami passed too close.

you couldn’t bear to let him see you like this.

not with the wedding two weeks away, not when the final fitting was tomorrow. not when he was the nanami kento - precise, composed, impossibly, effortlessly elegant - and you felt like a child masquerading in grown woman skin, unraveling just when you should have been most beautiful.

you braced for the change, waited for it like rain preparing to ripple through the clouds, for the shift in his gaze, the falter in his tone, for the quiet moment where his warmth would begin to dim as the fading sunset, and the words you’d feared might surface:

this isn’t working, i didn’t sign up for this, maybe we rushed things.

but of course, he never said any of that - instead, he let you vanish until dinner, when you padded back to the bedroom with a bowl of noodles and a bruised kind of shame, closing the door like it could keep your insecurities contained.

half an hour later, it opened.

you were curled cross legged on the bed, hoodie drawn up over your mouth like a veil, the ceramic bowl empty on the nightstand.

nanami stepped inside with the quiet certainty of a man who never needed to raise his voice to be heard, to be seen. he closed the door behind him. the silence shifted.

you stilled, your eyes stayed low: fixed on the wall in front of you. your shame flared redder than your skin.

“i’m only going to ask once,” he said, voice calm accompanied by the kind of steadiness that cuts through any lie you could form. “are you avoiding me because of a breakout?”

your heart stuttered.

you didn’t answer, just sank deeper into the hoodie, into the fabric, into yourself. the sting behind your eyes crept closer to the surface.

he sighed - not with anger, but with weariness. the kind born not of frustration with you, but with the invisible wall you’d built between you both. with the absurd, aching notion that a few angry patches on your skin could shift the foundation of his love for you.

“darling,” he said, the word felt like gravity sucking you into him.

you heard his steps, slow and deliberate, as he crossed the room. felt the bed dip beneath his weight, his hand reached up and gently tugged the hoodie from your face. you turned away of course, instinct as sharp as breath.

but his palm found your jaw, and turned you back, “no,” he murmured. “let me see you.”

you hesitated, then lifted your eyes.

he saw everything - the irritated pink, the heat of humiliation, the unshed tears clinging to your lashes like dew. and in return, gave you no wince. no judgment. just his gaze - gentle, grounded - and his thumb, brushing reverently over the most inflamed of the blemishes.

“i’ve seen you exhausted,” he said. “in pain. crying. afraid. do you really think something as small as this would ever make me hesitate?”

you tried to laugh. it came out watery, brittle.

“kento… don’t say that. it’s not just a breakout. it’s me, i always fall apart before big things happen, and you’re… you. i thought maybe you’d-”

“call it off?” he offered, a brow lifting, eyes calm, you nodded, breath catching, gaze falling.

for a moment, he was quiet.

then, softly, he muttered, “unbelievable.”

you flinched - when he leaned in and pressed his lips to your cheek, to the angriest mark on your face. a kiss - comforting, “kento-”

“again,” he said, kissing the blemish near your jaw. “and again.”

you squirmed, laughter startled and sharp, pushing at his chest. your face burned now for a different reason, “stop-”

“no,” he said, finally brushing his lips against yours. “i’ll stop when you understand this: i didn’t choose you because you were flawless. i chose you because you’re you. skin and all. hormones and all. all of it.”

your heart ached. the kind of ache that cracked you open just enough to breathe as if a weight has been lifted off your chest.

he exhaled, softer now, and pulled you into his arms. folded you beneath his chin, like something precious, something sacred.

“you’re marrying me in two weeks,” he murmured into your hair. “don’t run from me again, sweetheart. i’m not going anywhere.”

you nodded, a sound caught in your throat, small and raw, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt like roots into earth.

divider by @/cafekitsune // art by ThisUserIsAngry on twt // not proofread.

[evilgwrl]

I'll suck your dick for a long breeding kink Simon story (ily) 👉🏻👈🏻

i ❤️ breeding kinks and u anon

CW: BREEDING KINK, titty sucking, PIV (No protection, pls use this irl), oral sex (f receiving), praise, slight daddy kink?, cream pie, lactation kink kinda, orgasms yippee

There was something primal inside of Simon, an urge that simmered through him like magma, coiling into every vein and muscle with a need to be filled. It consumed him wholly, wracking his brain with images and thoughts.

Images and thoughts of you, full and round with his seed, his child.

Simon never knew he wanted a family, always content with the one he met on the field. That was until he met you. You were a ray of light, always cheery and smiling, so feminine and beautiful. He needed you, and that was enough, but he wanted more.

He had never approached it with you before, but he was always so careful in case it scared you away. It all began when you were waiting in line at the supermarket, a newborn straddled to his mother’s hips as it cooed at you, slobber dribbling down its mouth as its eyes crinkled with laughter.  You were so quick to smile back, waving with glee as you pulled funny faces, a chorus of laughter soon following from the little one.

It only got worse when you were on your period, raving on about how you sometimes wanted to be pregnant just to get rid of it temporarily.

But Simon believes it really struck him when you were fresh out of the shower, pushing your belly out for fun to look as though you were expecting. You turned to him with cheery eyes and simply asked, “Do you think I would look good pregnant?”

Now, it was all the Lieutenant could think of.

You were a doll, always rushing around for him after he returned home, begging him to relax as you tended to his needs. You would be such a good mother.

“You want me to run you a bath? Give you a massage?” You murmured, rubbing his shoulders as you sat on his lap, thick hands rubbing at your thighs.

Simon groaned in a pleasured tone, nodding, “Only if you join me, sweet’art.”

The bathroom was thick with lavender, small rocks of decedent salts melting in the heated water, clouds of steam fogging up the mirrors as the fan overworked. Your body moulded to his as the bath swished around you, gently rocking against your upper back as your hands wrapped around his shoulders.  

Calloused hands rubbed at your hips, kneading the flesh delicately as he rested his head into the crook of your neck, nuzzling into your scent with a deep sniff.

“Ain’ I the luckiest man alive to have someone like you, you’re always so good to me,” Simon mumbled, voice slightly muffled by his lips pressed against your skin.

Your hands found the back of his neck, pulling him away from you with a smile as you kissed him, “I missed you, Si.”

“I missed you too. And these,” he snorted, groping at your tits as you giggled, working your fingers through his hair.

His cock grazed against your pussy, nudging your slit as you adjusted on top of him, lifting yourself slightly as he brought a breast to his mouth. His teeth grazed against the fat enjoying the way your breath hicked as his tongue swiped your hardened nipple, your fingers gripping into his shoulder with a profound tightness.

Simon was quick to work his palm against the other, enjoying your subtle moans as he tugged at the nipple, drawing the other one into his mouth with a harsh suck. You were so complicit to him, rocking your hips as you ground against his aching cock.

The man was practically slurring against your tits, switching between nipples as he kneaded the flesh. His voice was quiet as he breathed against your skin, barely audible, “Need to fill these up with milk, makes me go crazy thinking about how sweet you would taste.”

Your ears were hazed over with arousal as you only grumbled out a ‘huh’ immediately melting as he began to lick at your chest again. Your breasts were covered in spit, nipples erect and sore as you whined into the steamy air.

Simon’s hands were heavy as he pulled away from you, tugging you into the air with ease as water dripped along the floor, leading a trail to your bed before you were plopped down, wet body squealing against the sheets. He was quick to spread your thighs, lapping in the way your pussy throbbed as he tickled you with kisses, peppering over stretch marks.

Two fingers were quick to spread you open, folds sticky with your slick before the hotness of his mouth sealed it with a layer of spit, suckling at your sensitive clit as Simon growled against your cunt. Your mouth was tingling with cries, prickles of pleasure settling against a sheer layer of sweat that soaked your skin.

Your body was entranced by his tongue, writhing every-time he focused on your nub, your own hands playing with your tits as you rocked against his wet muscle. “F-Fuck Si- just like that-“

You were so needy, so desperate for release as he worked against your movements, thighs closing around his head as he muffled sweet moans into your flesh.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he slurred, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he nestled in closer to your pussy. His cock was leaky with anticipation, moist with pre-cum, edging him closer and closer the more noise you made.

Your orgasm was fast, hitting you with ease as your back arched, thighs shaking as you came with a squeal. His tongue was rapid, licking at your juices like a madman as you moaned, attempting to push his relentless attack away.

Simon pulled away, chin drenched in both spit and arousal as he licked his lips, staring at you with unmistakable hunger. He was quick to work your legs open again, heavy cock hanging low as he tugged at it, pressing the angry tip against your clit.

“Need to fuck you, doll,” he spat, rubbing his pre into your squelching folds as you nodded. No matter how many times you took him, the burn always ached through you, working into your muscles as it coiled into a hot pit in your stomach.

His grunt was loud as he bottomed out, resting in the warmth of your pussy as you stared up at him with tear-streaked eyes, your mouth stuck in an ‘o’ shape. You were so full, cock rubbing against your gummy walls with every slight movement, already kissing your neglected cervix.

“Please move- please-“

He obeyed, pulling out before rocking back into you with a quick thrust. Simon moved your legs, holding them over his shoulder as he pounded into you with a relentless force, giddy on your fucked-out expressions, incoherent blurts leaving your pouty lips.

“Take me so fucking good baby, make me never want to leave. Need to cum in this fucking pussy.”

You clenched. Hard.

Simon paused slightly, staring down at your squinted eyes, hands rubbing at your pillowy tits before you relaxed again.

“You want me to cum in you? Fuck a baby into this pretty cunt, hm?”

You babbled out a yes, tugging at your tender nipples as he growled into the air. His pace was brutal now, desperate for release as you milked around his length, pants leaving your mouth in shallow breaths.

“Gonna look so fucking sexy pregnant- all full with my child. Gonna make me a Daddy? Gonna fuck you until it sticks. That’s it baby - keep sucking me in, just like that.”

Simon was feral, grunting into the air as he fucked his cock into your wailing mound, slick stringing down his full balls. Your screams were loud as your head tilted to the side, tongue lapping from your mouth as you mewled in the pleasure.

“You’re gonna be such a good mommy, aren’t you sweet’art? So fucking good- so fucking tight. Just need to breed this perfect pussy. All fucking mine.”

“Y-Yours, Simon. Please fill me up,” you said, voice cracking as you gripped onto his neck, pulling him flush against you into a mating press. Delicate fingers found your clit as you rubbed the wet bead, moaning against his mouth as he kissed you, an endless supply of adrenaline pumping through his body.

“You gonna give me as many kids as I want? Gonna keep you pregnant, so full and round with my babies. My perfect fucking girl.”

Your breath wedged in your throats as the coil grew in your stomach, sloppy motions rubbed against your clit as Simon fucked against your sweet spot.

“Milk my fucking cock, baby, that’s it- cum for Daddy.”

His words sent you into overdrive, your eyes rolling back as your noises halted, stuck in your oesophagus as your lungs jolted full of air. Simon was quick to follow, your clenches wrapping around his shaft as he came with a groan, hot spurts of come coating your walls as he gripped onto your neck.

The Lieutenant was reluctant to pull out, desperate to keep his seed inside of you, buried at the hilt. You whined at the loss of contact, thick cock leaving your aching mound with a huff as Simon rushed to the bathroom.

You melted into the sheets, gently stirring as he wiped your face and neck with a cool compress.

“Did so well for me,” he praised, rubbing at your cheek affectionately. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his wrist.

Thick loads leaked from your exposed cunt, a hiss leaving Simon’s throat before two fingers pushed his work back in.

This man meant what he said, he wasn’t stopping until it stuck. Until you were pregnant and forever his.

[vampzity]

strut | C.SN

“how you pick me up, pull ‘em down, turn me ‘round, oh it just makes sense.” — bed chem, sabrina carpenter

pairing: bf! san x f! reader

while being treated to a shopping spree by your loving boyfriend, he can’t help his intrusive thoughts when he sees you trying on such short dresses. all he wants is to get a taste of you.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+, smut, public sex, dom! san, sub! reader, oral (f.receiving), pet names (baby, princess, angel, good girl), praising, bite marks, clit play, fingering

word count: 1.6k

San sat on the bench in the fitting room, holding bags filled with clothes you picked out. You protested a bunch of times, but he loved to spoil you— offering to pay for the loads of clothes you picked out.

He watched you try on clothes and criticize them, while also falling love with others. It was cute. Most guys hated shopping with their girlfriends, often being annoyed with how long it took or how indecisive their lover may be. But not San. He absolutely adored you. The way you strut in front of him, how you did little turns and spins so that he could see the outfit in its full glory.

God it turned him on in ways he couldn’t explain.

“Does this look okay? It feels so short.”

His eyes scanned your body, tilting his head as you slowly turned. His eyes widened as he caught a glimpse of your ass peeking from below the end of the dress. It wasn’t too obvious unless someone blatantly stared, but his reaction was enough to tell you.

You sighed, pulling the dress down and holding it in place as your face flushed red from embarrassment.

“It is too short.”

You quickly turned around, about to walk back to the room when San got up. He grabbed onto your arm, his body pressing up against yours just enough for you to feel his member. He leaned over, his mouth just inches away from your ear.

“You look beautiful princess.” his free hand snaked around your waist, pushing your ass onto his clothed cock. He groaned softly, shutting his eyes.

“You can wear whatever makes you feel that way, just know it gets a reaction out of me.”

San let get of you, his hand brushed by your ass softly as he walked back to the bags. He picked them up off the ground and quickly scanned the area for anyone else who may be around. Before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand and pulled you back into your room. He closed the door, locking it and setting the bags on the side.

He towered over you, his dark gaze meeting yours as you stood there in shock. San gave you a small smile, his hand cupping your cheek and pulling you in for a soft kiss. His kisses were slow, but you could feel him wanting more. Craving more of you.

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, sucking against it constantly as he struggled to catch his breath. The kisses trailed down your cheek and to your neck, his breathing becoming staggered and heavy.

“Can I have a taste of you angel?”

You nodded, his tongue gliding up your neck. You felt your blood rush to your head, your ears turning just as red as your cheeks. San stuck his hand into your underwear, his fingers resting against your folds. He looked at you, raising as eyebrow as you bit your lip and struggled to maintain your composure.

His fingers spread you open slightly, moving between your folds to gather your slick. Your eyes fluttered closed, throwing your head back as he touched you. He was sick minded, and he knew how easily his touch worked on you.

“If you’re quiet for me,” San circled your bud lightly, his lips still pecking your neck. “I’ll let you cum.”

He pulled his hand out of you, kneeling beneath you and spreading your legs slightly. Your breath hitched as he dragged his tongue against your clothed heat. He looked up at you, head tilted and his dark eyes clouded with lust.

“Understood?”

You bit your lip, nodding in agreement as his grip onto your thighs tightened. He smiled, lifting on of your leg up and placing it on the bench. He pulled his hat off and set it beside him, eyes locked on your aching cunt and its wetness leaving a spot on your underwear. What a pretty sight. In his eyes, you were simply a sweet treat.

He kissed against the underwear, sucking on your clothed clit softly and swirling his tongue around it. You threw your head back, brushing your fingers through his hair.

“Mm, you like this don’t you?” he glanced at you for a moment, raising his eyebrow. You quickly nodded, feeling tongue flick against your covered bud.

“What a little slut. I didn’t think you’d want me to do this in public.”

San kissed your inner thighs softly, making your breath hitch at his actions. You felt his teeth sink into your skin, making you whimper in response. You quickly covered your mouth, locking eyes with his deep glare as his eyebrows furrowed. He shook his head, continuing to leave countless bite marks across your inner thigh. With every bite he dealt you could feel the pain burning through your skin, though you couldn’t help that it felt so good.

“Sannie,” you mumbled, feeling your core heat up as his bites trailed closer to your cunt.

He looked up at you a small smile painting his face as his fingers toyed with your underwear.

“What is it? Use your words for me princess.”

He tugged the hem of your underwear, pulling them down your legs as he kissed your thighs softly. He was merely inches away from your soaking cunt, your legs shaking as you wanted nothing more than for him to taste you. San gave you a small look, nodding as he waited for you to reply.

“Please,” you mumbled, heart beating out of your chest.

He dragged his tongue up your thigh, stopping just beside your folds. You felt a chill run up your spine in reaction, making your hole clench around nothing.

“Please what baby?” he raised an eyebrow at you, chuckling to himself as he watched you fall apart.

“Please touch me..”

He hummed quietly at your words, placing his thumb against your clit and lifting its hold enough to expose it. He dragged his tongue between your folds, his lips sucking on your bud. You threw your head back biting your bottom lip as you tried not to cry out from pleasure.

San swirled his tongue around your heat, hungrily lapping up your juices as you struggled to maintain your balance. Your fingers ran through his hair, gripping it softly. He snaked his fingers up your thighs, spreading your folds to expose your core. You threatened to moan, bringing your hand up to cover your mouth.

“Shh.. what did I say?”

He pushed two fingers into your aching hole, watching as your walls clenched around them. He thrusted into you slowly as his tongue flicked your bud, leaving you a shaky mess. San curled his fingers slightly, pushing them against your sweet spot just perfectly as he spat against your clit.

He pulled his mouth away from you for a second, earning a look of annoyance from you. A mix of his spit and your juices stringing from his lips as he looked up at you. His chin was drenched in you, as if he knew no manners, like he was being starved of you.

“Taste so good angel. Just want to devour you whole.”

His sharp eyes pierced into your own. San pulled your cunt against his lips, his tongue beginning to fuck you as his nose brushed against your sensitive bud. You breathed out in pleasure, wanting to scream his name.

You began to grind against his face as he made out with your cunt, not missing a single spot. You were desperate— tired of playing the waiting game when all you wanted to do was drench his pretty face in your arousal. San noticed this, pulling his tongue out of your hole and pressing a soft kiss at the opening.

“Wanna cum for me baby?” he whispered, looking up at you. You quickly nodded, feeling your walls contract around nothing.

“Be a good girl and use your words like I told you.”

You tried to fight back whimpers as his fingers touched you softly. San teased you with his tongue, flicking at your sensitive bud slow enough to drive you crazy. He kissed it lightly, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop agh!”

San took you onto his face, his mouth practically enveloped around you. He stuck his fingers inside of your aching hole as he abused your clit with his tongue. Your grip on his brown locks tightened, a tingling sensation rushing throughout your body.

You moved with the motion of his tongue, throwing your head back as your shaking breaths turned into small moans. His lips slobbered around your folds, gathering your slick with every lick he dealt.

“That’s it princess, let it out for me.” he kept his dark gaze on you, making your knees buckle.

San curled his fingers inside of you, his pace moving quickly as he worked to stretch you out. Your walls clenched around his fingers, juices dripping down the sides of them as you struggled to not make a mess.

You covered your mouth as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. San used his free hand to keep your legs open as you tried to force them close.

“Aww c’mon, you got it.” he pressed his lips against your thigh, his thumb swirling around your clit as his fingers still pounded into you.

“That’s it, let it out baby.”

You pushed his head into your cunt, feeling his lips smash onto your swollen bud as he sucked on it harshly. Within seconds you came undone, your arousal dripping down San’s hand. A large smile painted his face as he pulled his fingers out of you, licking your arousal clean off of you.

“You look so pretty when I have you like this baby.” he licked your juices off of his fingers, soon pulling your underwear up.

“I wish I could have you like this all the time.”

💌: this was literally a spur of the moment.. his pictures did something to me..

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[lilirae00]

You're a Dream

Summary: One-shot: Azzi has a dream and needs Paige’s help to fall back asleep.

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: sexual content 18+, this is basically just all smut and a little fluff at the end sooooo you’ve been warned. 

Masterlist

—

Azzi's breath clouded in the humid air of the Dallas Wings locker room, fluorescent lights buzzing above her. She wasn't even supposed to be there, which made her heart beat faster. 

It smelled like sweat mixed with soap from showers after the game, towels covering the bench she sat on.

Paige stood in front of her, jersey half off, hair damp, eyes focused as if Azzi were all that mattered.

"What if someone sees?" Azzi whispered, voice breaking, eyes nervously darting towards the door.

Paige's mouth curled in a predatory smirk. "Don't care," she said into her chest, fingers hooked in the waistband of Azzi's shorts and tugging them down just enough to expose her. "Let them see you falling apart for me."

Azzi let a whimper out that she tried to swallow, grabbing at Paige's jersey, dragging her closer. "Paige..."

Paige kissed her hard, teeth catching the lower lip until she gasped. "God, you're already shaking," she murmured against her mouth, voice sounding tender yet rough at the same time. "So fucking wet for me."

Azzi's legs shook as Paige's fingers pressed against her, teasing and slick. Paige's other hand pinned her to the cool tile wall, anchoring her as Azzi rocked helplessly into her touch. 

"Please," Azzi breathed, shame curling in her stomach at how desperate she sounded.

Paige hummed, kissing at the side of her throat. "I've got you, baby. Let go for me. I want to see you completely lose it." 

Azzi felt it coil, searing hot in her belly, pleasure ripping through her in dizzying waves. Her breath hitched, mouth falling open in a soundless cry as she felt herself right at the edge— 

And then she jolted awake. 

Azzi's eyes flew open, her heart pounding so hard it rattled against her ribs. For a moment, she blinked into the dark of Paige's bedroom, the leftover adrenaline leaving her shaking. 

She was in bed, not in the locker room. Paige was real, warm and solid, snoring lightly beside her. 

Azzi sucked in a breath, attempting to ground herself. Her skin felt too tight, her pulse pounding, spreading throughout her legs. 

God. 

She had been so close that it hurt. She could feel that she was embarrassingly wet. She rubbed her legs together and let out a tiny, frustrated whimper. 

Paige didn’t move, her arm draped heavily over Azzi's waist. Azzi shut her eyes tight, mortified and so turned on at the same time. 

She squirmed, trying to relieve some tension without disturbing Paige. It didn’t help.

Fuck. 

She swallowed hard. She knew there was no way she was going to sleep like this. But the thought of waking Paige up for this…made her want to crawl in a hole and never come out. 

Still, her hand moved. She just needed... something. Anything. 

But her heart wouldn't calm down, and neither would the heat continuing to throb between her legs. She bit the inside of her cheek and carefully rolled over onto her side, not wanting to wake Paige. 

She squeezed her thighs tightly together, grinding down just the right amount to test whether the ache would disappear. It definitely didn’t. It only made it worse. 

She let a small whimper escape her lips before she froze, immediately noticing that Paige stirred lightly beside her. But Paige only snuggled closer to her pillow. Azzi let out a shaky breath. 

Shit. 

Azzi hesitated, glancing again at Paige’s relaxed face, under the dim glow of the hallway light that was peeking in beneath the door. She felt a rush of guilt. 

Still, the need was crawling under her skin as if it would eat her alive if she didn't do something. 

Just...quietly. 

She slowly slipped a hand under the covers, fingers trembling slightly. Every sudden movement felt as loud as thunder. She held her breath, feeling the silky cotton sheets whispering against her skin as her hand slipped lower, but she gasped as soon as her fingertips made contact with just how wet she was. 

God. 

Azzi closed her eyes tight as the ache pulsed through her body. She pressed in softly, circling once as flashes of Paige pushing her up against the wall and kissing her hard consumed her. 

Her breath hitched audibly. Paige shifted again beside her, and Azzi went still, heart in her throat.

When Paige didn’t wake, Azzi forced herself to keep going. Slow. Careful. Fingers moving with practiced familiarity but clumsy with desperation.

But it wasn't enough. It felt good, but wrong at the same time. It wasn't enough pressure or the angle she needed, and most importantly, it wasn’t Paige. 

Azzi whined in frustration and rolled her hips helplessly against her hand, and finally just exhaled and pulled her hand away in defeat. She pressed the back of her wrist to her mouth to stop another whimper from escaping.

I can't... 

She swallowed hard, blinking back tears. She turned her head, scanning over every ounce of Paige in the dim light. She looked so peaceful, so perfect, mouth slack, hair messy against the pillow. 

She’ll help you. 

But she’s asleep. You’ll wake her up for... this? 

Azzi bit her lip. The choice was already made, she needed her. She needed her hands, her mouth, her voice telling her it was okay.

Azzi reached out with trembling fingers and brushed across Paige's shoulder. "Paige..." she whispered, terrified of waking her, but also terrified of not waking her. 

Paige mumbled something, eyebrows scrunching up as if she was only half aware of what was happening around her.

Azzi blinked a few times fighting against her body’s need and the embarrassment of needing it.

“Baby,” she whispered again, her voice cracking. “Please wake up.”

Paige stirred, groggy, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. She tightened her arm around Azzi’s waist, curling themselves both in so they were flush together. “Mmm. I’m right here, babe. Go back to sleep.”

Azzi swallowed hard, breath hitching. “No, I… Paige. I need you.”

That sultry tone made Paige blink awake, her sleepy gaze taking in the expression on Azzi’s face.

Even in the shadows she could see the sweat glistening on her skin, the way her pupils were blown wide open, her chest heaving.

“Oh,” Paige said, voice dropping, the understanding hitting her all at once. She exhaled, her hand sliding from Azzi’s waist, skating over the strip of skin at her hip. “Oh, okay. C’mere.”

She tugged Azzi on top of her without another question, her big hands warm and sure.

Azzi scrambled eagerly, settling herself with her knees straddling Paige’s hips, her breath still shaky, her hands planted on Paige’s chest for balance now. Paige’s fingers curled around her thighs, squeezing to reassure her.

Azzi’s voice was wrecked. “Please.”

Paige’s eyes darkened with pure want, her mouth curling into a slow crooked smile. “Yeah, baby. I got you.”

She guided Azzi’s hips forward, helping her rock against the hardness of her body. Azzi let out a strangled whine as she rocked into Paige, already so close it made her chest ache. 

Paige's hand slipped underneath Azzi's thin sleep shirt, feeling her warmth, palm resting over her beating heart. Her other hand moved lower, thumb hooked in the waistband of Azzi's shorts and underwear, pulling down just enough.

Paige wasted no time, with Azzi sitting on her lap, knees braced on either side of her hips, she slipped her fingers in deep, her thrust slow and deliberate.

She pushed as deeply as she could before curling her fingers to stroke that perfect spot, Azzi choking on a cry as she pressed harder.

Her thumb pressed softly against Azzi's clit, circling in tight punishing patterns. Azzi never caught a breath, Paige coaxing needy and desperate sounds from her lips as she rocked shamelessly against her hand.

Azzi whimpered and collapsed forward, their bodies completely connected, slick with sweat. Her hands were clawing at Paige, her nails dragged like red lines along her back while her hips stopped and bucked. 

Paige exhaled softly through the stings, her breath was hot and ragged against Azzi's neck, 

"Fuck that’s it," Paige rasped, pressing open mouth kisses beneath Azzi's ear. She sucked hard enough to cause a bruise that would last for days. "Ride my fingers, baby. Let me feel you lose it.”

Azzi moaned at the words, her hips moving wildly, chasing every thrust, the filthy wet noises between them driving Paige's mind crazy. 

Paige gripped her tighter, fingers plunging and curling deep, thumb relentless on her clit, until Azzi was nothing but broken, gasping pleas and wrecked whimpers in the dark.

"Feel good?” Paige asked, voice wrecked and low in her ear. Her breath shuddered at the slickness covering her fingers, wetness pouring down her wrist as Azzi fucked herself on her hand. "God, you're so wet for me.”

Azzi moaned at the words, whole body arching, and Paige gently growled against her neck, teeth grazing sensitive skin before kissing it again.

“Come on, baby,” she whispered hoarsely, fingers thrusting harder, thumb relentless on her clit, “Let me feel you. Come for me.”

Azzi sobbed, her hips bucking wildly as Paige's words pushed heat through her whole body. Her thighs trembled around Paige’s wrist, breath stuttering and breaking as Azzi chased the edge. 

When Azzi did finally come, it was with a shivering cry, her whole body locking up before she fell forward, burying her face in Paige’s neck. Paige held her close, shushing her softly and kissing her temple.

Azzi’s breath evened out quickly, exhausted from the intensity, eyelids fluttering shut. Paige let out a breathless, amused laugh and tightened her hold.

“That’s my girl,” she mumbled into her hair, voice fond and warm, sleep pulling at her again.

Azzi didn’t answer. She was already out, breathing slow and deep, safe in Paige’s arms.

Paige closed her eyes, heart thudding steady beneath the girl she loved. No questions. No teasing. Just taking care of her. She smiled softly in the dark and let sleep take her too.

—

Azzi awoke slowly, her eyes blinking at the pale light of morning seeping around the blinds. She was warm all over, still too heavy with sleep to move yet, her cheek pressed against the bare skin of Paige's collarbone. 

Paige's arms were snug around her with one hand splayed between her shoulder blades, the other resting at the small of her back. Azzi let her eyes drift closed once again, breathing in the familiar scent of Paige's skin.

She moved just enough to get comfortable, earning a low, sleepy grumble from Paige beneath her. Paige's arm tightened automatically round her, pulling her closer again.

“Stop wiggling.” Paige rasped, voice scratchy from sleep, still with her eyes closed.

Azzi's lips curved against her chest. “Can't breathe when you hold me like a damn vice.”

Paige cracked one eye open, brow raised. “Liar,” she mumbled, fingers flexing possessively on Azzi's back. “You love it.”

Azzi huffed, refusing to smile any wider. Paige's thumb drew lazy circles against her spine.

“Hi,” Azzi whispered after a beat.

Paige's mouth twitched at that. She cracked both of her eyes open fully now, blue and bleary but so very fond that it almost hurt. “Hi,” she echoed, softer.

They stayed like that for a moment, staring at one another, in the quiet. Paige's hair was a mess, half stuck up against the pillow. 

Azzi reached up and smoothed it down gently, smothering a snort when Paige tried to bite her fingers.

“Morning baby,” Paige finally said, voice dipping low and warm, the words all sticky from sleep and affection, together. She placed a slow and deliberate kiss on Azzi's temple.

Azzi felt a shiver run down her body at the sensation, her eyelids fluttering awake. “Morning,” she murmured.

Paige held the kiss for another second or so before pulling away just enough to see Azzi’s face. She squinted at her, the corners of her mouth curling up into a lazy, satisfied smile.

“So…” Paige drawled, fingers drumming lightly on the small of Azzi’s back, “about last night.”

Azzi immediately groaned, rolling her eyes and trying to bury her face into Paige’s chest. Paige just laughed and tightened her grip so that Azzi was stuck.

“Don’t,” Azzi mumbled into her skin, voice muffled and mortified.

“Oh no,” Paige teased, her voice brightening. “We are definitely talking about this. You woke me up in the middle of the night, and you needed me so bad you couldn’t even use words for a second.”

Azzi’s ears burned. She attempted to push herself off of Paige, but Paige wouldn’t let her.

“Paige…”

“Nope.” Paige shrugged and shifted her body, using her free hand to move Azzi’s jaw to make her look up at her. She had a grin on her face, completely pleased with herself.

“Come on, Az. Tell me. What was that all about? Not that I’m complaining,” she added with a raised eyebrow. “I’d let you wake me up like that every night if you want.”

Azzi glared at her, her face burning. “God, you’re such a fucking asshole.”

Paige gave a sly little grin. "An asshole who made you come so hard you passed out on top of me." 

Azzi made a noise that sounded strangled. Paige's grin softened, but only the slightest bit, as she brushed her thumb on Azzi's cheek with a gentle swipe.

Azzi huffed, trying to look at anything but Paige. "It was a dream, okay?" 

Paige raised both eyebrows. "A dream?" 

Azzi glared at her half-heartedly. "Don't act like you didn't already know." 

Paige pretended to think, tapping her chin. "Hmm, you mean the part where you were dripping wet and grinding on my thigh before you even got your shorts off?" 

Azzi groaned and pushed her shoulder away. Paige cackled and caught Azzi's wrist easily, dragging her back in. She kissed Azzi's nose just to annoy her.

"Tell me what it was about," Paige pressed, voice dipping even lower and, by the look on her face, she was genuinely curious now. 

Azzi bit her lip, feeling embarrassed, but was too in love with Paige to keep resisting. "You..." she managed to say quietly. 

Paige's grin softened into something molten. "Yeah? What about me?" 

Azzi's cheeks went impossibly red. "Locker room. You... you had me pinned. Wouldn't let me go. I was..." she trailed off, and swallowed. 

Paige's pupils blew wide, breath stuttering. "Fuck." 

Azzi squirmed and glared weakly at Paige. "See? This is why I didn't want to tell you." 

Paige's fingers traced light patterns against Azzi's back while her voice went low and teasing, but warm like honey. "No, no, keep going. You were what?" 

Azzi gazed at her with more glare. "Desperate." 

Paige's smile became downright sinful. "For me?" 

Azzi made an aggravated noise and buried her face in Paige's chest again. 

Paige laughed, rumbling and smug, but her hand gentled in Azzi's hair, combing through the messy curls.

"Damn, baby," Paige said softly, mouth brushing against Azzi's hairline. "You have no idea what you do to me." 

Azzi's voice was muffled and moody. "Stop talking like that or I'm going to need you again." 

Paige's laugh softened into something quiet and tender. She angled Azzi's face to her and kissed her slowly and for an unusually long time. 

"Good," Paige whispered against her lips. "You can need me anytime, any place. I’m yours." 

Azzi blinked, letting her eyes soften as her mouth started to tremble because she wanted to smile, but felt reluctant. Paige smirked and caught the smile and kissed Azzi again, just because she could. 

“You’re ridiculous.” Azzi mumbled, cheeks rosy and eyes sparkling with a mixture of annoyance and fondness. 

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Me? You’re the one who was dreaming about me fucking you in the locker room.” 

Azzi groaned and pushed at her shoulder, but she didn’t budge, rolling them both so that Azzi was pinned under her, hair splayed out on the pillow, breath hitching. 

Paige’s grin took up her whole face. "Bet you were thinking about those showers.” 

“Shut up,” Azzi mumbled, but didn’t pull her gaze away. Her fingers were still wrapped around the hem of Paige’s sleep shirt, tugging her closer with an embarrassing enthusiasm. 

Paige let out a laugh, nosing at Azzi’s cheek, voice lowering a little. “You’re lucky I adore you. Otherwise, I’d make you tell me every little detail right this second.” 

Azzi huffed and looked away, unable to stop the smile on her face, “If you shut up, I’ll write it down for you.” 

Paige let out a snort. “I’d frame it.” 

Azzi rolled her eyes almost to the point of pulling something. “You’re impossible.” 

Paige kissed her forehead. “And you love it.” 

Azzi fell quiet, a smile changing into something softer and Paige felt her heart pull in a small ache. 

She allowed herself to study Azzi’s face, dark lashes, light dark circles under them, due to travel and staying up talking too late. She pressed another light kiss to her temple this time. 

"Hey," Paige said, her voice light as she threaded her fingers through Azzi's hair. "Do you want to come to practice with me today?"

Azzi raised her eyebrows. "Really? I can?"

Paige scrunched her nose. "Yeah, technically, but only if you don't terrorize me from the bench."

Azzi blinked at her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Paige grinned. "You can’t sit courtside looking at me all hot and dreamy, or I will definitely get benched for inappropriate conduct."

Azzi started to cackle, though she tried to cover her mouth. Paige grabbed her wrist lightly and pinned it to the pillow.

"I'm serious," Paige teased, eyes shining. "Coach is going to see me making huge heart-eyes at my girlfriend instead of running drills."

Azzi squirmed for the hell of it. "I don't make you do anything."

Paige's mouth turned into something sharp and warm at once. "Oh yeah?" she drawled, eyes shining. "Nothing but make me get you off at 2 a.m."

Azzi's breath caught at that, heat rushing up her neck. She scowled and pushed at Paige's shoulder. "Shut up."

Paige just chuckled, grabbing Azzi's wrist and pinning it again, kissing her nose just to annoy her.

Azzi scowled and twisted to get away, but Paige just laughed and let go of her wrists, rolling onto her back with an exaggerated sigh.

"God," Paige said, rubbing a hand over her face and her voice muffled as she pretended to be in genuine agony, "you're going to be the death of me."

Azzi snorted and turned on her left side to face Paige. "You're too much of a softy to ever hate me."

Paige peeked at her out from under her fingers, her eyes brimmed over with amusement. "Tragic but true."

Azzi wriggled closer, pushing Paige's arm down until she could press a kiss to the corner of Paige's mouth. Paige hummed at that, allowing her hand to rest on Azzi's waist.

They stayed in that space for a moment, the quiet easy, their breaths falling in sync.

"Seriously though," finally Paige said. "Come to practice with me. I want you there."

Azzi smiled against her lips. "Even if I'm a menace?"

Paige's mouth curved again. "Especially if you're a menace."

Azzi rolled her eyes, but she couldn't hide her grin. "Fine. But you're buying me coffee on the way."

Paige groans for dramatic effect. "That’s highway robbery."

Azzi poked her in the ribs. "No, that’s professional athlete salary, Paige."

Paige grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together, and squeezed once, hard. "Anything you want," she said softly, and the teasing dropped away just for a moment.

Azzi's chest felt warm and tight. She squeezed back. "Same."

Paige let out a sigh. Her eyes were soft. Then she gave Azzi a little shove in the shoulder. "Now get your ass up. We're going to be late."

Azzi yelped when Paige rolled them both off the bed, the blanket twisting under them as they both fell in a tangled mess of blankets and laughter, their bickering echoing along the walls of the small Dallas apartment as morning officially started.

[i2sunric]

𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐎𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 (l.hs)

PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)

SUMMARY: it doesn’t matter if the sex is slow or rough, heeseung always gets you so soaked.

WARNINGS: established relationship, smut, protected sex (we stan), fingering, dirty talking, pet names (baby), squirt, mating press, lazy sex, cum on stomach, making out, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 11th March 2025

WC: 1.8k

TAGLIST: @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @jakeflvrz @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove @17ericas @riribelle @cloud-lyy @enhamonsterghoul @star-hoon

a/n: SOooO SoAKED 🗣️‼️reblog to share pls help an author out

The rain outside fell in a steady rhythm, soft against the window, a quiet symphony of the pattering droplets and the distant thunder rolling low in the sky.

The lamp on the nightstand casted a golden glow, stretching shadows across the bed where you laid, pressed close against Heeseung.

His lips moved slowly against yours, lazily, like you have all the time in the world.

There wasno urgency, no roughness, just the unhurried slide of his mouth over yours, the gentle play of his tongue as he kissed you deep and slow.

His hand rested against your hip, thumb tracing idle circles just beneath the hem of your sleeping shorts.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured, voice low. His forehead pressed against yours for a second before he tilted your chin up, kissing you again. “Mhh… baby.”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, his heartbeat steady beneath your palm.

You hummed softly against his lips, pressing closer, the slow drag of his fingers against your skin left trails of warmth in their wake.

His hand slipped beneath your shorts, fingers teasing over your bare thigh before dipping higher. He chuckled when you shiver. “Sensitive?”

“A little,” you admitted, blushing.

Heeseung smiled against your mouth before dragging his lips down, pressing soft, lazy kisses along your jawline, down the column of your throat.

His hand moved deliberately, fingertips grazing over your clothed heat before slipping beneath the fabric.

“So wet,” he mutterred, feeling your soaking folds beneath his palm.

his voice was filled with something warm and pleased, like he enjoyed the way your body reacted to him, the way you shifted closer, seeking more. “You always get like this when we kiss for a while.”

You bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut when he finally pressed two fingers against you, slow and careful. “Heeseung…”

“I got you, baby.” His voice was soothing as he pushed two fingers inside, dragging against your walls in a way that made your breath catch.

He didn't move fast, didn't rush; he just eased his fingers in and out, curling them slightly with every stroke.

Your head tilted back against the pillow, lips parted, thighs trembling slightly as warmth pooled deep in your stomach.

His other hand pressed against your hip, grounding you, preventing you from squirming too much.

“Good?” he asked, voice laced with amusement, even as his eyes darkened watching you.

You nodded, barely able to form words with the way his fingers worked you open so effortlessly. “Mhm.”

Heeseung’s lips curved in a satisfied smile before he pressed another kiss against your throat, nipping lightly. He sucked gently at your skin where a hickey was already taking form.

Your breathe grew uneven, little gasps slipping from your lips as he angled his fingers just right, finding that perfect spot inside you.

Your body tensed for a brief moment before melting into his touch, your grip on his shirt tightening.

“Heeseung—”

“I know, baby. Just let go,” he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

The pleasure built, slow and steady, until it was impossible to hold back.

Your back arched slightly as waves of heat crashed over you. Heeseung groaned softly when he felt you clench around his fingers, his movements never stopping, drawing out every bit of your pleasure.

His fingers slid out of you, and he lifted his hand, glancing at the wetness coating his fingers before smirking. “So pretty for me.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Stop.”

But he only laughed, prying your hands away so he could kiss you again, slow and sweet. “Never.”

The sheets were damp with sweat, your skin burned hot beneath his touch, but neither of you pulled away.

Instead, you stayed close, breaths mingling, his lips brushing lazily against yours, as if neither of you were ready for this moment to end.

His fingers still glistened with you, a reminder of how easily he unraveled you.

His eyes flickered with something darker as he watched you, and without breaking his gaze, you reached for his wrist, guiding his hand up.

A smirk played on the corner of his lips. “What are you—”

You didn’t let him finish.

Instead, you took his fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself off his skin, letting your tongue flick over the pads of his fingertips, sucking lightly.

Heeseung took in a sharp breath, his body tensing as his jaw tightened.

“Fuck,” he murmured, voice rough with something raw. “You really like driving me crazy, huh?”

You hummed around his fingers, letting them slip from your lips with a quiet pop before you reached for his jaw, pulling him into another kiss.

This one wasn’t slow or teasing; it was desperate, almost messy, filled with the heat simmering between you.

His hands roamed your body, rougher now, gripping at your waist, your hips, sliding down to your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you gasp.

His thigh pressed between yours, and that was when you felt him— hot and hard, straining against his sweats as he ground against you.

“Heeseung.” you whispered, voice laced with need.

His breath was uneven as he pressed his forehead against yours, gripping your hips tighter, grinding against you just enough to make you shudder. “I need you,” he sighed, “Right now, so fucking much.”

There was no hesitation as he reached for your shorts, slipping them down your thighs along with your panties. You helped him, wiggling out of them as quickly as you could, and Heeseung wasted no time tossing them aside.

His hands slid up your thighs, parting them slowly as he took in the sight of you, his gaze hungry.

“So pretty,” he murmured against your skin. “So perfect.”

You bit your lip, watching as he tugged his sweats down, just enough to free himself. He was hard, thick and flushed, his tip leaking just slightly as he wrapped a hand around himself, stroking slowly.

You swallowed, thighs shifting restlessly “Hee… hurry.”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and he smirked before reaching for a condom in the drawer.

He ripped it open with his teeth, rolling it on with practiced ease, and then he was pressing forward, positioning himself between your legs.

You tilted your hips up, opening yourself to him, letting him guide himself against your entrance.

“Tell me you want this,” he said “I do,” you breathed, “I want you.”

That was all it took.

Heeseung pushed in slowly, stretching you open, groaning at the way you gripped him so tightly.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you adjusted, legs trembling slightly, but the slow burn quickly turned into pleasure.

“You take me so well,” he whisperec “So fucking tight.”

You whimpered, tilting your head back as he bottomed out completely, his body pressed flush against yours.

Heeseung gripped your thighs, pushing them up until your knees nearly touched your chest, folding your body into a perfect mating press.

The new angle made you gasp, the way he was buried so deep inside you sending a shiver through your entire body.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, staring down at you with blown-out eyes. “You feel so good.”

“Mh— Hee,” you sighed “S’good.” nails scraping lightly against his back as he started to move— slow at first, letting you adjust, then picking up a steady rhythm, rocking into you with deep, precise thrusts.

Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your breath hitching with every stroke.

The wet sounds of your bodies moving together filled the air, along with the low groans slipping from Heeseung’s lips, the quiet, breathless moans you couldn't suppress. He picked up the pace, thrusting deeper, harder, filling you so completely it leaves you breathless.

“Look at you,” he cooed, his voice thick with adoration and lust. “Taking me so well, my perfect girl.”

Your legs shook in his grip, pleasure curling deep in your stomach, building and building until you were on the verge of breaking apart.

Heeseung felt it, the way your walls fluttered around him, the way your body trembled.

“M’so close.” He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his thrusts turning erratic.

“Cum for me, baby,” he pleaded,. “Let me feel you.”

You couldn’t hold back.

With a sharp cry, your body seized, pleasure crashing over you in waves, leaving you gasping, trembling beneath him.

The overwhelming sensation took over, and before you could stop it, a sudden gush of wetness escaped you, soaking the sheets beneath.

Heeseung stilled, “Holy shit,” he muttered, his eyes flicking down to where your bodies meet, taking in the mess you had just made. “Fuck, that was so hot.”

Your face burned with embarrassment, but Heeseung didn’t give you a chance to feel shy about it.

He kissed you deeply, thrusting into you a few more times before pulling out quickly.

He barely managed to roll the condom down in time, jerking himself through the last few strokes before spilling hot and thick across your stomach.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

The only sound is your combined breathing, the steady rhythm of the rain outside.

Then, Heeseung let out a low chuckle, his hands smoothed over your thighs before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips.

“You okay?” he questioned gently.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “Yeah.”

Heeseung hummed, reaching for the tissues by the nightstand to clean you up.

He wiped you down with careful hands, murmuring little apologies when you twitched from the sensitivity.

Then, when he was done, he tossed the tissues aside and pulled you close, wrapping an arm around your waist, pressing lazy kisses to your shoulder.

You sighed into him, nuzzling against his chest, your body still humming with the afterglow.

Heeseung caressed your back, his lips trailing soft kisses along your collarbone, your jaw, your lips, gentle and unhurried.

“I like this,” you mumbled sleepily.

Heeseung smiled against your skin. “Yeah?”

You nodned, curling closer. “Mhm… being with you like this.”

His hold tightened slightly, his warmth surrounding you. “Me too, baby.”

He pressed another slow, lingering kiss to your lips before resting his forehead against yours. “Me too.”

[sturnspup]

BOMBPOP.

premise ; you’re eating a bombpop, and it gives dean an idea.

content warnings ; est. relationship . blowjob . bunker era .

wordcount ; 717.

the wind was cool, carrying the buzz of cicadas around like an orchestra. the sun was beaming down on the freshly mowed grass, bugs and worms crawling and burrowing into the heated dirt. the sky was clear and blue except for a few stray clouds. and you were soaking it all in.

it was the middle of summer, how could you not?

you were sitting on a lawn chair outside the bunker, shorts low on your hips as your pink and orange bikini popped against the dull grey tone of the building behind you.

your lips were already beginning to stain red. you had a bombpop in your hand, the melting popsicle coating your tongue at each swirl of the tip. a drip fell onto your chest, trailing down quickly due to the summer heat. “fuck,” you muttered before looking down and swiping it up with a finger, licking it off quickly.

dean had walked out of the bunker right as you took the patriotic treat back into your mouth, sucking up and licking the melted drips before they could fall. he watched the way your tongue curved against the popsicle, dragging up from the blue all they way back up to the red.

he felt a familiar twitch in his now tightening jeans, along with the warm flow in his lower abdomen. he looked down to see himself already half hard before glancing back up at you.

you were glistening—glowing.

the sun casted its light on your skin nearly majestically. and the shadows from the curvature of your breasts in that bikini—the one he got you a year ago on a whim—you were heavenly.

“how’d i get so lucky?” he questioned out loud, catching your attention. you jumped in your seat, relaxing instantly at the sight of your boyfriend. “what’re you talkin’ about?” you asked with a smile. your eyes locked onto his approaching figure, sneaking a downward glance at his prominent bulge.

“you. what lottery did i win to get ya, sweetheart?” he spoke smoothly. he pulled at your bottom lip with his thumb, watching it bounce back into place. a slow grin pulled against your red lips at the sound of dean’s zipper going down.

he slowly pulled his hardened cock out. you were practically drooling at the sight of him, popsicle now long forgotten on the grass below you, melting into the green blades. “no lottery,” you hummed, “just love.” you grabbed onto his shaft, pumping him slowly.

“just love, huh?” he tilted his head. his eyes were hooded as they stared down at you, roaming over your body under the sun. “mhm—all of it,” your breath fanned against his tip as you leaned in closer, dean taking more steps toward you. “yeah? show me then.” he smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

you gave his slit a kitten lick, watching him groan at the sensation of your tongue dipping in. he pushed past your lips, hips thrusting slightly. your mouth stretched around his girth as your head moved back and forth, tongue swirling and curving against him.

dean could feel the stickiness of your popsicle coated lips, and the stain was beginning to spread on him faintly. he couldn’t keep in his noises. your mouth was so warm, red 40 all on your tongue. you could still taste the faint cherry from the bombpop, now mixed with the taste of dean’s skin and his precum.

“fuck, sweetheart—doin’ so, so good,” he cooed. he slid his hand into your hair, a signal that he’s getting close. you had sped up your pace already, getting sloppier the faster you went. he was hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, and the vibrations of your gags only lulled him closer to the edge.

“cum—ming! oh, god, m’cumming, baby, fuck!” he whined before spilling down your throat. he held you still, hands gripped on your head. you stared up at him as you swallowed all he gave.

you pulled back, finally being able to breathe properly. you gave him a smile, glancing to the ground where your popsicle was now a purple puddle with the stick floating in the middle. “fuck, my bombpop! dean!” you pouted, making him laugh while he stuffed himself back into his pants, promising to get you another one.

gabs yaps ; happy 4th of july... boooo 🍅🍅🍅 ANYWAYS i have a 4th of july blurb for totc that i might post tmrw!! also i’ve had this idea for dean since i first started back in feb 😭

tags ; @starzify @sunsbaby @sturnsflirt @ateotdwinchester @southernimpala @sacr1ficialang3l @littlejoels @fairychris @tinas111 @bruisedfig @ccupidzbvnni @mahi-wayy @jensenacklesballsack @lanasgirlfr @halsteadwichester @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @angelically-yours + wanna be on the taglist?

[harbours-lighthouse]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐍

— part two

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — Jason Todd x F!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 — You have an argument with Jason Todd and things don't go your way. There's something slipping out of your fingers, and it might just be him.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: angst :)) possible fluff for a possible pt.ii?

Your feet ache, ankles throbbing in pain with each step you take. You’ve lost count of all the street signs you’ve passed, the chipped white lettering barely giving you an inkling of where you are anyway. All you know is that there’s something clawing inside of your chest, and the alleyways are slowly darkening. Graffiti streaks across red brick walls. Trash flutters out from parked cars.

I don’t need your help! 

Jason’s words echo, ringing inside your head like a bell. Your temples feel tense, as if bracing for each thunderous shout of those simple words. A lump forms like a sharp pebble in your throat.

“Okay, Jason,” you whisper, choking on the small utterance like it might cleave you in half. You didn’t get to tell him that—didn’t get to say anything at all. The door had slammed shut behind you once he’d said enough, and you hadn’t bothered to wait and see if he’d come racing after you.

He’s never shouted at you before—the most heated your arguments get is a little bit of bite in your tone, but never your voices raising to shake the frame of your psyche. 

I don’t need you. 

He’d said that in a much quieter voice—something muttered beneath his breath like an afterthought. You heard that and knew you wouldn’t be able to say anymore without breaking down, and that was the last thing you wanted to do. You wouldn’t let him see you like that. You could barely afford to see yourself in such a state. It was demeaning—overwhelming, too. 

A shout skewers through your haze of grief-stricken thoughts, and you glance away from your shoes to scan the street. Long shadows stretch across the cracked asphalt as street lamps tower over you like sentinels, bathing a group of teenage boys in sickly yellow light. They skip and prance like zealous predators, voices dipped in the usual ‘bad boy’ drawl, shouting or laughing at jokes you weren’t privy to. Clouds of smoke puffed from many of them, cigarettes tucked between two fingers like modern weapons. 

You usually wouldn’t be too bothered if it was one or two, but you could count five easily, and felt caution settle in your stomach like lead.

Smoothly turning into an alleyway littered with overflowing dumpsters and leftover cardboard boxes, you cut through two buildings to reach the next street. The teenagers fade into the background, leaving you behind. Sucking in a breath, you find that your chest is trembling.

“It’s fine,” you say to yourself, breathing out. 

That’s all I am! Okay? I’m fine. I don’t need you constantly pestering me about it. 

All you’d been was worried. Afraid, even. He’d been coming over less, and you’d sleep through the night without any interruptions. No living room window sliding open, or boots thudding softly onto the ground. At first, Jason left behind notes on the fire escape, taping the yellow square of paper to the metal bars for you to find when you opened the window for the sharp morning air. 

They were cute, with handwriting that was overly neat. 

Got caught up with something — wanted to let you sleep. Love you.

Though there was the dull ache of disappointment, it made you smile, imagining him taking the time out of his night (early morning) to do that for you. Him, sleepy from work, leaning against the fire escape while he scribbled the note down, before taping it down for you—that was more than what most men are ever willing to do.

But the notes changed, getting shorter in length. Sometimes you gripped the wind-bent paper and felt that he’d done it out of obligation, rather than consideration. It opened up a chasm in your chest, one where your worries began to fall into, slowly taking up space. It made breathing hard, and your days even harder. Then, the notes stopped entirely.

You went a whole month without hearing anything from him, and tonight was the first night that he finally showed up. No note, but his face cast in moonlight as he rapped on the frame of your window,  waiting with shifting feet. 

You weren’t expecting the hot feeling inside your chest. A molten ache of loneliness that made itself present when he climbed into your apartment, flashing a white grin that would usually have your knees weak. No, you were surprised when tears already burned at the back of your eyes, though you refused to let them fall. 

“Hey, doll,” Jason murmured, stepping towards you to wrap an arm around your neck, pulling your face into him. Gunpowder and leather overwhelmed your senses, and the usual warmth pouring out from him felt suffocating. You wrapped your arms around his waist, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hold on tight. 

Jason pressed his lips to your scalp. “How ‘ave you been?” 

“Fine,” you answered quietly, grateful that you could hide your face from him. You knew that what you were saying silently would be obvious in the way your brows were bunched together, and how you were chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

“Jus’ fine?” 

“Yeah—I was actually making dinner.” 

“Ah,” Jason pulled away, his arm slipping from you. It felt cold suddenly, like icy teeth were nibbling on your skin. You smiled wanly, watching as he glanced at the kitchen—at the stovetop where vegetables were simmering in an oil-slick pan.

It was strange. Where was your enthusiasm? Where was the joy that bubbled inside you like liquid sunlight? And why were his eyes so bloodshot? 

You know for a fact that you didn’t mean to be overbearing. All you asked was if he was okay. What had he been up to? Why hadn’t he called? Texted? Why did the notes stop?

Had you done something without even realising? 

Maybe you should have realised he was already fraying around the edges.

Maybe you should have realised that he wasn’t ready to come face to face with something that ached to love him when he’d spent a whole month fighting people who didn’t.

“Jason, come on. I can tell that you’re more than tired,” you stressed, hands falling to your sides. You watched as he scrubbed a harsh hand down his face. He didn’t know it, but the lines beneath his eyes seemed to deepen just as the chasm split through you. 

“Doll,” he said quietly, with something dancing along the edge of viscous. “I promise you, nothing is wrong. I am fine.” 

“Then why’d you disappear on me?” 

“I was busy!” 

“You look terrible.” 

“Gee, thanks for that, doll. Really sweet of you.” 

“I’m just worried.” 

“Yeah, sure you are.” 

It spiralled and you weren’t able to stop it. Each new word said was worse than the last—bitter with something neither of you had tried to acknowledge. Since when were you so distant from each other? 

Sirens whoop in the distance, and a cold front of wind pushes against you. If only it could seep inside of you and reach for the heat settled between your lungs. If only it could freeze whatever ugly, wailing mess was lingering just beneath the surface of the calm you’d forced on yourself when you walked out of the apartment. 

Feeling like a pair of eyes are digging holes into your back, you speed up your pace. A crossroad up ahead is lit with headlights, streaks of light burning through the air as cars zip by, while others are kept at a standstill behind changing traffic lights. You walk up to the pedestrian crossing, glancing up at the little red walking man. 

“Lovely,” you mutter, and you wait with the tips of your shoes hanging over the edge of the curb. Swallowing thickly, you look over your shoulder. There’s no one walking up the street. No cloaked figure or rowdy teenage boys. In fact, it looks empty. The only thing keeping the quiet buildings company being the cars sitting dormant and dark in front of thin strips of grass and concrete steps leading into homes. It’s just you and the rush of light traffic, and the little red walking man.

And it hits you like a car—you’re alone, and so is Jason. You left and he let you leave. Is he still at your apartment? What happens when you go back? 

“We’re gonna ruin this,” you say softly, breathlessly—like it’s a confession. It’s most certainly the truth. 

Frantically, you look around. Lights glaring from cars has your head throbbing with pain, but you find what you’re looking for. A phone booth sits at the edge of the opposite street, and your heart jumps like a bird catching flight. You don’t bother checking for upcoming traffic or whether or not the little red walking man has turned green. You dash across the street, feeling your throat seize with panic and despair and desperation all at once.

You don’t even hear the screeching tires and the horn blaring at you.

Rushing into the booth, the smell of urine and cigarette smoke nearly has you gagging, but you reach for the phone anyway. With it balanced between your ear and your shoulder, you fish around in your pocket from your wallet (something you’d learned to bring with you everywhere in case of emergencies like these). With shaking fingers, you manage to find a couple of quarters and you feed it into the machine. Punching the numbers, you call your apartment's landline. 

As you wait, hearing the ring vibrate against your ear, the outside world feels muted. Dull in comparison to the tempest raging inside of you. 

You’re worried, but you’re also angry. You're panicking, but you’re also bitter. You want Jason, but his words still sting. You’re a walking juxtaposition and it’s setting your teeth on edge. Maybe all you need is to hear his voice and the pieces will fall into place and you’ll realise what exactly you need to say.

But Jason doesn’t answer, and the phone rings another two times before falling silent with a resolute ping. 

You scare yourself when you slam the phone back into place with a hissed curse, though it doesn’t latch on properly and falls, dangling by its springy chord. You rush out into the open, sucking in fresh air into your aching chest.

“Damn it, Jason…” you whisper, and your vision swims as tears blur the endless sweep of pale light from traffic, and the bird in your chest begins to brutally beat itself to death. If he wasn’t picking up the phone, that means he’s not there anymore.

Why are you both leaving? Why are you two—people meant to love each other—both walking out of the same apartment without searching for the other? Without waiting. Without so much as a goodbye. 

Shaking, you bring your fist to your mouth as a choked sob breaks inside of you, spilling out in a harsh heave for air.

"Oh, gosh—” you sputter, and the world feels like it’s spinning. Engines are roaring and it’s too loud inside your ears, droning like airplanes sweeping right above you. The lights are too bright and the little red walking man is stuck. He won’t turn green. 

What is happening?

Thank you for reading, God bless <3

tags: @kitkatlover015 @batslilwhore

© harbours-lighthouse 2025 / i do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated, or fed into ai. all works belong to me unless stated otherwise.

[brawberryz]

⎯⎯ㅤ lollipop chainsaw

Jason Todd × Fem! Reader

Note | English is not my first language | M.list

A | N / I love Lollipop Chainsaw so much, it's a shame there isn't a remake of the game yet, Juliet I love you

TW | Blood, violence, slight mention of mutilation, sexual themes (nothing graphic), Spoilers for the game (mild), Jason is a suck loser because i said so

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Everything had happened so fast; it was a normal morning in high school.

Jason had finally worked up the courage to confess his love for you after school was over.

You met him because he was your tutor once for a literature exam. You were told that if you didn't pass it, you would be stripped of your position as leader of the cheerleaders.

From that moment on, Jason felt that crush in his heart.

Every time he saw you, he felt his cheeks heat up and his heart beat faster than normal, as if he were running a marathon.

Love was strange and unusual for him. He knew there was a good chance you would reject him, and that would make him the laughingstock of the whole school for believing a nerd like him would have a chance with the most popular and beautiful girl in school.

But dreaming wasn't out of the question. He had prepared everything for this special day.

He had written a romantic note; it was a beautiful poem that he would leave in your locker during first period. Putting at the end of the note that you see him after school.

Nothing could go wrong. He'd been planning for months how he would propose and the things he would say if you rejected him, since he didn't want to look like an idiot after your rejection.

But something went wrong, so wrong.

As he walked through the lonely school field, he heard screams coming from the other side.

Out of nowhere, he saw people starting to run desperately, crying for help.

Was this some kind of joke?

"What the-" Before you could complete your sentence, you heard your voice screaming from afar while you were carrying...

A chainsaw!?

"Jason, watch out!!" You screamed with all your might while running as fast as your legs could carry you.

"Uh? What do you mean...?" He turned his head only to find himself staring at what was supposed to be a zombie, A FUCKING ZOMBIE.

"What the hell!?" He could barely react when he felt the zombie lunge at his arm and then bite him.

He felt his flesh tearing apart; even though he had a jacket on, that didn't mean it fully protected him.

He fell to the ground as a scream of pain came out of his mouth. You quickly approached him and cut the zombie in half.

"Oh my god! Jason, are you okay?!" You knelt next to his injured body; you felt his arm begin to spasm.

It was clear he was infected.

"I... oh shit, this hurts-" He gestured in pain as you held him in your arms. Would he sound like a complete virgin if he said out loud that there was something sexy about you holding him like this?

"God, this feels so bad. Everything's ruined now..."

He felt his body go into small spasms, and his mind began to cloud with pain.

"(Name)...there's someone I need to tell you before I become...well, you know, one of them..." You nodded, distressed. He reached for your hand, and you quickly took it, as if you were afraid that everything you had left of him would disappear.

"I know it's stupid to do this when...when I'm about to die, but..." His voice grew fainter and more tired, and with his last breath, he would say how much he felt about you.

"I...I love you (Name)...I love you so much, and you're the best thing that's ever happened to me..."

Jason felt like a complete loser now. He felt like he wanted to cry.

He didn't know if he wanted to cry because of the pain in his arm or because he knew he would die and never have the chance to see you or hear your beautiful voice again. The smile was too loud for his taste, but he still liked it.

"Oh, Jason... I love you to.."

You gave him one of those smiles you always gave everyone, but this time it was special because it was genuine and meant for him.

"Well... that was quite unexpected... I didn't think you'd accept my feelings." He let out a small laugh before feeling his vision blur and his eyes begin to blur.

"Jason, no!"

You could feel his heart begin to slow down and his skin begin to take on a strange color.

The only thing you could hear in that empty space were your sobs as you hugged Jason's body.

"No! I won't let you die!"

You said, quickly getting up from the ground and starting your chainsaw.

"Uh...? What do you mean by that?"

Jason asked, confused. You two were supposed to be having a sad, yet romantic moment.

"Sorry for what I'm about to do, babe!"

You raised your chainsaw and pointed it right at his neck. Jason felt like his soul had just left his body.

"Wait, what? No! (Name), wait a second, you shouldn't-"

His sentence was cut off by the sound of the chainsaw approaching his neck. All he could hear before closing his eyes was a small "I love you!" Which was almost drowned out by his scream of fear as he felt your chainsaw cut into his neck.

And that's how Jason ended up with a head attached to your hip by a chain.

Jason waited for many fates before becoming a zombie, but he never thought you'd perform a ritual to bring him back to life as a disembodied head.

Jason was starting to believe that becoming a zombie wasn't such a bad option after all.

Although he wouldn't lie, there was something about him that he liked being able to feel your ass on the back of his neck.

God, if he still had his cock, it would most likely be hard...

But leaving those virgin thoughts aside, the view from your waist wasn't so bad.

At least he wasn't a mindless zombie walking around the school looking for fresh meat.

Plus, he was a great help when it came to preventing attacks from behind.

He was like a guide since he knew the high school best; they needed to get out of there as quickly as possible.

The school wasn't a safe place and it was too big, and you could easily get lost if you didn't have a map, but you could be sure that Jason would guide you around the place.

"Honey, a zombie on your right!"

Jason warned, while you were too busy slicing into a zombie that crossed your path.

"Thanks, babe!"

You giggled as you cut the zombie in half with your chainsaw.

Jason sometimes wondered where you got so much strength from. He knew that chainsaw was heavy, but you carried it like a bag.

In addition to your amazing acrobatics and jumps, which would easily humiliate any gymnast.

"You've been very quiet this time. Is something wrong, Jay?"

You called him by his usual affectionate nickname. Jason had been much quieter than usual.

Most of the time, he spent talking about some book he'd read or telling jokes that weren't funny but still made you laugh.

"Oh...nothing, it's just..." He hesitated. These last few days had seemed too strange. He'd never thought about being trapped in a school full of zombies with only his head. "I just haven't gotten used to not having...you know...my body."

You nodded, understanding what he was saying. You knew it was a selfish decision to leave him with only his head, but Jason's body was almost completely infected, and his head was the only thing that wasn't infected yet.

"Relax! When we get out of here, I'll get you a new body. There's nothing magic can't fix!"

Jason just laughed at your comment, sometimes wondering how you were still so optimistic after everything you'd been through.

Something in Jason always wondered if you and he were the only survivors.

You tried using an old radio you found, but it wouldn't connect to any network or signal.

"Whatever you say, princess."

A small blush formed on your cheeks at the nickname Jason gave you. He seemed very resistant to the nicknames you gave him, as if he thought he didn't deserve all your affection.

You walked through the abandoned, blood-soaked halls of the school, humming a little song you'd heard on the radio once with your older sister.

"Uh... did you hear that, Jay?"

You said, sharply turning your head toward the sound. A voice crackled as if trying to speak from a broken radio.

"What do you mean-?"

Jason could barely finish his sentence when you ran down the hallway looking for the source of the noise.

Jason felt like his head was jerking from the way you ran and jumped, dodging the zombie bodies and other things lying on the floor.

He could swear he was about to throw up, even though it was biologically impossible since he didn't have a stomach or organs.

"Ugh, we're here," you said tiredly, stopping at the teachers' lounge. The noise was coming from that place, and you were beginning to clearly understand the words of that mysterious person.

But you saw that the room was full of zombies, some of them seemed to have evolved and become more grotesque than they were.

Disgusting.

That's all you could think about when you smelled that unpleasant odor. You braced yourself and started your chainsaw, holding it as if it weighed absolutely nothing to you.

"Jay, get ready, this is going to get A little shaky!"

You didn't let Jason answer and kicked the door open, sending him flying and crashing into a zombie. Great, you already had one eliminated.

"Pretty legs..."

Was all Jason could whisper when he saw you do. My God, what did the high school feed its cheerleaders to make them so strong?

At that moment, Jason felt like a princess in distress, and you were her prince, coming to save her from those horrible zombies.

Although he wouldn't complain either; the last time he was in your arms felt so good.

Jason was too busy fantasizing about being saved by someone as fucking sexy as you that he didn't notice you just killed all the zombies in minutes.

You hated that zombies were so weak. There were very few zombies in the school worth fighting, and you'd already defeated most of them.

You approached the small radio on the table and looked curious, waiting for the person to speak again.

"Is anyone there?"

The voice sounded like a boy's. He seemed worried but curious at the same time.

That voice was enough to snap Jason out of his thoughts. Had he heard correctly?

That voice was all too familiar.

"Oh! Yeah, I'm (name) from Gotham High School. Who are you?"

Your voice remained as happy as ever. At least you knew you and Jason weren't the only survivors.

"Thank God... I thought no one would answer." The boy let out a nervous laugh. You moved the radio so you could hear better since the signal wasn't the best.

While Jason felt like his soul had left his body again, it couldn't be him...

He couldn't. He would feel too humiliated if the person he thought he was turned out to be who he thought.

There was no way this was happening to him. Was this really supposed to happen to him when he was in such a humiliating and pathetic situation?

There was a moment of silence on the radio until that voice spoke again.

"I'm Dick Grayson. It's nice to know there are still survivors."

You just nodded before speaking.

"Well, the truth is, I'm not the only survivor. I'm with my boyfriend, Jason Todd!"

You were too naive to realize the bombshell you dropped when you blurted out those words.

"Jason... Jason Todd!? Wow, I didn't think he'd still be alive. Can you put me through to him?"

Dick seemed cheerful and eager to talk to Jason. It seemed like he was too important to Dick, since the moment you mentioned Jason's name, Dick's tone abruptly changed.

"Well... there's a slight problem with that..."

Shit

This is so corny omg....

While I was writing this I remembered that I had the game installed so I started playing it while I wrote, I know this has nothing to do with it but Juliet was my lesbian hear me out btw🗣🗣🗣

[minkieater]

u already know what i really want

sitting on seonghwas face… his nose…

his nose … THAT nose … oh man

you didn’t think someone’s nose could be so… appetizing.

appetizing wasn’t the word, no. provoking? arousing? stimulating? maybe appetizing, too, maybe you’d lick every inch of it after you used it as a seat. sitting next to him on the couch as he read a book, glasses sitting on the bridge of that perfect nose, his lips pressed into a line as his eyebrows slightly knitted in focus. he looked like a dream, so innocent, so unprovoking you wondered how the sight of him had you so worked up.

you crawled over to him, taking his book from his hands, bending the page to mark before throwing it to the side, replacing yourself in his hold instead. he looked up to you in surprise as you pulled the frames from his temples, tossing them to the side, too.

he didn’t ask any questions— he didn’t want to, didn’t need to because of that look in your eye. like you wanted to eat him whole, as if he was your last meal, as if you were starved. he shifted his body down, let his long, slender fingers wrap around your hips, and accepted your lips on his own.

wet and messy, you danced together, tongues slipping into a rhythm you both knew all too well, hips shifting and grinding as if you’ve been making passes at each other for the last few hours. seonghwa loved you like this, needy and debauched, taking him for what you wanted, what you needed.

your hips grinded into him harshly, making him suck in a sharp breath, looking up at you through his long, dark lashes. you barely fed him a smile as you breathed out, “need you.”

he let his head fall back, watching you grind against him with darkened eyes, clouded with arousal and admiration. his lips lifted in the smallest smirk, “take whatever you need, baby. ‘m all yours.”

you pulled your shirt over your head, unclipped your bra from behind you, letting them both fall to the ground where you stood, slipping off your sweatpants right after. “lay down,” you ordered with a soft voice, a plea, a prayer.

he shifted down, his long body taking up the entirety of the couch, book and glasses be damned. you crawled on top of him with purpose, hips hanging over his cheeks, fingers pushing his long black locks away from his face. “want your mouth, wanna feel your nose against me.”

“my nose?” he repeated out of curiosity before his eyes fluttered shut, his hands coming up behind your thighs, hooking around them and pulling down, fuck getting an answer to his own question.

you moaned out in relief as his tongue met your center, head tipping back, a hand still in his hair, the other holding onto the back of the couch for leverage. you let him lick into you, tongue sloppily drawing circles over your clit, sucking on it, your eyes watching as he gained his own pleasure from eating you out.

“so fucking good,” you moaned out and the sound was all relieving, the answer to all your prayers, gratitude lining your words like a song.

you rocked your hips against him, your clit bumping into his nose, all cartilage and bone hitting your bundle of nerves just right— the sound that left you was guttural, completely debauched, it sounded as sinful as it felt to stare at him with that nose deep inside his book.

he groaned into you, his tongue finding your core, letting it slip inside as you rocked against his nose again. the feeling was everything you thought it’d be, as stimulating as it looked, harsh against your clit in the best way. combined with his tongue fucking into you, you could feel the bubble of pleasure forming in your gut, a burning heat that was quickly traveling through every nerve ending.

his fingers tightened onto the plush of your thighs as you picked up the pace, chasing your high, and he kept up with you, his tongue moving in tandem with each thrust of your hips against his nose. his expression was relaxed, eyebrows laying loose on his forehead, not a shred of tension in sight, only pleasure, ease, as he coaxed you to orgasm.

you gasped as your pleasure came to its peak, seonghwa rocking your hips against him as your body stiffened with pleasure, legs shaking around his head, high pitched, broken moans escaping your lips as you came undone.

you leaned back after riding out your orgasm, staring down at seonghwa who was soaked from his nose to his chin. his lips lifted in a lazy grin, tongue poking out to lick his lips, eyes still lidded in a haze. your gaze flew to his nose, shining with your release, and you tilted your head to the side in thought, chest still heaving from the rush he just gave you.

maybe seonghwa’s nose was appetizing, indeed.

[flwrkissed]

Munch!Jisung drabble...please I'm on my knees-

₊˚⑅⋆ munch ⋆⑅˚₊

Genre: smut MDNI !!

Warnings: oral (f rec), some dirty talk, some cursing, let me know if I missed some!

v4mps note: munch!jisung makes me foam at the mouth... WHO SAID THAT!?!?

"F-Fuck, you taste so—mmph," Jisung groaned into your dripping heat, his voice barely audible as his tongue lapped eagerly at your folds. The sound of his mouth working you over was lewd, each wet flick sending waves of electricity up your spine, and his breath fanned against your sensitive skin, warm and desperate.

His hands were relentless, gripping your thighs with bruising force as he spread your legs wider, giving himself better access to feast on you. "So sweet... fuck, you’re so sweet," he muttered between hungry licks, voice muffled but thick with pure need. His tongue circled your clit in lazy, teasing patterns, flicking at it before sucking it into his mouth, desperate to make you fall apart for him.

You could hear the faint sound of him moaning against you, and it only pushed you closer to the edge, the vibrations from his mouth rattling through your entire body. "Jisung, please... please, don’t stop," you whimpered, gripping his hair and pulling him even closer to you. The more you tugged, the harder he worked, licking and sucking with renewed intensity, like he couldn’t get enough of you.

His hips ground down into the mattress, desperate, needy, his body aching for any kind of friction while his mouth worked feverishly. "Can’t get enough of you, baby... You’re all I want." His words were muffled as he pressed his face deeper into your cunt, his tongue licking into you more urgently, greedily. Every stroke of his tongue was a sharp, desperate plea for more, and it was clear he was getting lost in the taste of you, almost like he needed it to breathe.

The pressure in your stomach tightened, your thighs shaking as you felt yourself inching closer to the edge. "I—I'm so close, Jisung," you moaned, legs twitching as you tried to push yourself even closer to him. He let out a hungry whimper at your words, the sound nearly animalistic. "Fuck, cum for me, baby," he rasped, his tongue now flicking furiously, determined to make you fall apart in his mouth. "I need it... I need you to cum for me."

Your hands fisted in the sheets, your body arching as you let go, your release flooding his mouth. He moaned as he drank you in, his own hips still grinding desperately against the bed, unable to control his need. When you finished, he pulled away briefly to catch his breath, lips glistening and eyes clouded with lust. But before you could even process, he dove back in, still hungry for more, like he couldn’t get enough of your taste. "So fucking perfect," he muttered against your sensitive skin, his tone low and possessive. "I’ll keep going... I’ll keep eating you out until you beg me to stop."

[applecaviar]

BABY FEVER

TW: smut

Sylus X reader

This is the first time I post here so please be kind ❤️❤️

It only took Sylus 3 days to develop baby fever. All he kept thinking about was you pregnant, cute and rounded up.

So it was no surprise that when you came home from work he practically ripped your clothes off.

"Sylus!!" you yelled but it was no use, you were already pressed deep into the mattress.

"I'll buy you a thousand uniforms kitten"

Sylus' eyes were glazed over, a look of pure lust and desperation etched on his handsome face. He hovered over you, his muscular body trembling slightly as he struggled to rein in his baser instincts. When you asked him what was going on, he let out a shaky breath, trying to form a coherent thought through the haze of baby fever clouding his mind.

"I want to see your body change, your belly swell with new life... with my life. Watch your tits grow bigger, more sensitive. Your nipples" one of his large hands slid up from your hip, over your ribcage, pausing briefly to squeeze the soft swell of your breast "darkening, hardening and full of milk"

Sylus' other hand slid down to your belly, splayed out possessively over where he imagined your womb to be. His fingers flexed, long and strong, as if trying to feel the tiny spark of life he yearned to plant inside you.

"And fuck, the way you'd be so sensitive, so responsive... I want to make you mine in every way possible. Fucking you harder and deeper as your body changes, as my baby grows inside you"

Sylus captured your lips in a searing kiss, pouring all his desperate desire into the passionate embrace. He was lost in a haze of baby fever and lust, consumed by his all-encompassing need to breed you, to make you his in the most primal way possible.

He growled against your lips, the single exclamation spurring on his lust and desperation. He gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he ground his cloth-covered erection against your core with increasing urgency.

Breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin. "Fuck, I need to be inside you. I need to fill this tight little pussy with my cum until it takes"

His hand slid between your bodies and he cupped your mound possessively, feeling the heat radiating from your core. He could feel your arousal, your body responding to his touch and the raw, primal hunger in his words.

He rubbed your pussy through your panties, the fabric already damp with your juices. He groaned, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "So fucking wet for me already... You want it too, don't you sweetie? Want me to fill this greedy cunt and make you mine?"He tugged your panties to the side, his fingers delving between your folds to stroke your slick, swollen lips. He circled your clit with the pad of his thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your hips buck up against his hand.

"Tell me, y/n," he demanded, his voice a low, authoritative growl. "Tell me you want my baby. Beg me to breed you, to stuff this pussy full of my seed. Fuck, I need to hear you say it..."

"Please Sylus" you whispered and he let out a triumphant growl when you whispered those precious, precious words. In that moment, it was as if a switch flipped inside him. The last threads of his restraint snapped and he surged forward, pinning you deeper onto the mattress as he settled between your spread thighs, his mouth was on you in an instant, he licked and sucked at the swells of your breasts, his teeth grazing over your sensitive nipples until they pebbled and hardened under his ministrations.

Fuck, I can't wait anymore," he snarled, his voice a low, ferocious rumble. In one swift, rough motion, he ripped your panties off your body, the flimsy fabric tearing like tissue paper in his strong hands, he tossed the ruined garment aside, leaving you bare and exposed to his hungry gaze. Sylus licked his lips as he took in the sight of your glistening folds, the flesh swollen and slick with arousal. He couldn't wait any longer. With a low, animalistic growl, Sylus unzipped his pants and positioned himself at your entrance. The thick, engorged head of his cock nudged against your slick slit, teasing your opening with shallow little thrusts that made you clench and flutter around the promise of his girth.

He grabbed both of your legs, one hand on each thigh, and lifted them up towards his shoulders. He folded them back and up, nearly bending you in half as he pushed your knees towards your chest. The new position left you completely exposed and open to him, your dripping pussy on full display and just inches from the throbbing head of his cock. With your legs draped over his broad shoulders, Sylus' hips nestled between your thighs. The heat radiating off his muscular body was intense, and you could feel the thick, pulsing length of his erection pressing insistently against your slick folds and then with one powerful thrust of his hips, he buried himself to the hilt inside your tight, wet heat.

A groan tore from his throat as your walls stretched and clenched around his thick, pulsing shaft. The feeling of your silky walls gripping him was almost too much to bear, and Sylus had to pause for a moment, his hips pressed flush against yours, to keep from spilling right then and there.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he rasped, his voice strained with pleasure and barely restrained lust. "So fucking tight and wet, like this pussy was made to milk my cock."

Sylus began to move, pulling his hips back until just the tip of his dick remained inside you, before slamming back in with a force that shook the bed and made the headboard slam against the wall. He set a brutal, punishing pace, pounding into you with a hunger and desperation that bordered on feral. The room filled with the crude, obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, of Sylus' hips smacking against yours, of your juices squelching and dripping with each powerful thrust. The lewd noises mingled with Sylus' grunts and groans, with the creaking of the mattress, and with your own wanton cries of pleasure.

He gripped your hips hard enough to leave finger-shaped bruises on your soft skin, holding you in place as he rutted into you. He leaned down to capture your lips in a messy, passionate kiss, all tongue and teeth as he plundered your mouth. All the while, he never stopped his relentless assault on your pussy, his cock driving into you again and again, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

One hand slid up your body to palm your breast, kneading the supple flesh, rolling and pinching your nipple between his fingers and his other hand had his fingers sinking into your soft flesh as he angled your body to drive even deeper into your core.

Then you felt his hand trailing down your quivering stomach before coming to rest between your thighs. He found your sensitive, throbbing clit and rubbed it in tight, rough circles, just the way he knew you liked it. Your hips bucked up against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction, more of his touch and at the same time, Sylus increased the force and speed of his thrusts, pounding into your dripping pussy with a wild abandon.

 "Fuck, I can feel you getting close sweetie, Your pussy is squeezing my cock so fucking tight, like it's trying to milk me for all I'm worth. You want my cum so badly, don't you kitten?" His fingers worked your clit faster, rubbing and circling the sensitive nub with a relentless pressure that pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Sylus could feel his own release approaching, his heavy balls tightening and drawing up close to his body.

Sylus watched in awe and lust-filled fascination as your eyes rolled back in your head, your tongue lolling out slightly as the most intense orgasm of your life consumed you. He could see the pure ecstasy written across your face, could hear it in the wanton cries and screams of rapture that poured from your lips, he loved sight of you coming apart beneath him, your pussy clenching and spasming wildly around his cock, he would never grow tired of it.

That's it, y/n," he growled, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "Fucking come on my cock. Milk it, I want to feel every fucking pulse and twitch as this pussy squeezes the cum out of me."

With a final thrust, Sylus slammed into you one last time, grinding his hips against yours as he finally let go. Thick, hot ropes of his seed erupted from his cock, painting your insides white as he flooded your spasming cunt with his release.

Panting and trembling with the aftershocks of your shared climax, Sylus collapsed on top of you, his muscular body blanketing yours. He captured your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste your own pleasure. When he finally pulled back, Sylus gazed down at you with a look of pure male satisfaction. His crimson eyes glowed with a possessive fire as he took in your dazed, blissed-out expression and the way your body still shuddered beneath his.

Sylus rolled his hips, stirring the thick seed inside your sensitive pussy and making you gasp. He smirked at your reaction, loving the way your body responded to his touch.He leaned down to nuzzle into your neck, pressing soft kisses to your racing pulse before growling lowly in your ear, "I filled this pussy up so fucking good. Gave you exactly what you needed, didn't I sweetie?"

Sylus' hand slid down your body, his fingers brushing teasingly through the mess of fluids leaking out from where you were joined. He brought his coated fingers up to your lips, painting them with his own release.

"Taste it," he commanded softly, his voice a low, seductive purr. "Taste what I've given you, kitten. Taste the cum that's going to make you a mother. Fuck, I can't wait to see your belly swell with my child. You're going to look so fucking beautiful, round and ripe with my baby."

[wheeboo]

something in the rain | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which hope becomes lost, and you turn to the man who's only ever seen you. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers? WARNINGS. mental health struggles, mild cursing, mentions of verbal/emotional abuse from a parent, depressive thoughts, implied suicidal ideation, purely self-indulgent oof WORD COUNT. 3.2k

notes: hello! sorry uh, this may or may not be inspired from a real life event that happened like ... yesterday, so is there a better way to cope than to write comfort for yourself with one of your favourite comfort people 😭 summer sucks so far, but i hope this brings comfort to any of you who are struggling right now <3

Above you, the rain is splitting the sky open.

Your drenched shoes squeak with every step you take up the stairs, your damp hair completely matted to your equally damp skin. There’s a tremble in your hands as you squeeze a tight grip to your phone like it’s your only lifeline, droplets of water caressing down your hands and onto the black screen. In the background, a boom of thunder makes you jump.

You hadn’t planned to come here. In fact, you weren’t even supposed to be here𑁋you’re supposed to be on the other side of the city with your parents because you decided to move back for the summer. You’re supposed to be smiling and setting the table, ignoring all the criticisms being thrashed your way. But all it took was for a door to slam to break your heart into pieces, and suddenly you grabbed nothing but your phone and keys. No jacket, no bag, no umbrella. 

Just the sounds of your aching lungs and your mother’s voice echoing in your ears.

And now you find yourself here𑁋numbly having a staring contest with a door.

You press your lips together and lift up a trembling hand, knocking once. Twice when you realise how completely defeated the first one sounded. And before you can do it a third time, there’s a click on the other side, and the door swings open.

Jeon Wonwoo is standing on the other side. His dark hair is tousled and sticking in all sorts of directions as if he had just run his hand through it before opening the door. His glasses are perched at the end of his nose, which he pushes up instinctively, and he’s clad in a comfortable pair of grey sweatpants and a black shirt. 

You’ve known Wonwoo since your first year of high school. It started off as stolen glances across the lunchroom to secret after-school meetups in the library where the two of you would exchange your favourite books with one another and debate about prose and plot like your lives depended on it. From there, the friendship blossomed even further𑁋quietly, softly. You had always felt safe with him. Every time he spoke, the world around seems to lull silent enough for you to breathe. 

He blinks at the sight of you, taking in your soaked and disheveled appearance, confused at first.

“Y/N?” Wonwoo calls out your name, and the sound of his voice alone is enough to make your chest loosen ever so slightly. “What are you𑁋aren’t you supposed to be staying at your parents right now?” 

Your head drops down to the ground in guilt, and you try to blink away the heat threatening to spill out of your eyes. 

“It’s, um…” You let out a shaky exhale. “It’s scary there right now.”

Wonwoo’s face falls immediately, and he steps aside without any hesitation. He doesn’t ask any other questions. Doesn’t prod or demand anything more. 

Your shoes squelch against the floor as you cross over the threshold and into his apartment. Immediately, the warmth circulating through the air calms a small percentage of your clouded thoughts, but not entirely. 

You continue to shiver in the middle of the entryway, your clothes dripping onto the floor as Wonwoo closes the door behind him with a soft click. The sound feels final, like safety hugging itself around you. He takes a singular glance at your shuddering form before disappearing into his bedroom. After a minute, he emerges back with a set of sweatpants and hoodie of his own and a towel. 

He drapes it over your shoulders wordlessly, and the action is just oh-so tender it nearly makes the raw tears spill out of your eyes even more. But you try to hold it back in, because you didn’t come here to break down in front of him. You came here as it was the only place that allows you to just… be. 

As you’re about to kick off your shoes, Wonwoo stops you immediately. 

“Let me,” he says quietly, already crouching down to the floor before you could retort back. 

You watch numbly as he carefully unzips your shoelaces, removing one of your soaked shoes. His fingers slightly graze over the skin of your ankle, which makes him stop for a moment, as if he’s afraid you might fall apart if he’s not soft enough. 

You almost do. 

When both of your shoes are placed neatly by the door, he stands back up, letting his worried gaze roam over you once more. He offers you his hoodie and sweatpants. You gratefully take it from his grasp. 

“They might be too big for you,” Wonwoo mutters with a quiet, sheepish chuckle. “But you can change in the bathroom. Take your time. I’ll make some tea for you.”

You give him a silent nod before trudging your way into his bathroom. The moment you click the door shut behind you, you feel your knees buckle beneath you. Your hands grasp at the edge of the sink as you suck in a breath. You can barely maintain eye contact with yourself in the mirror without feeling as if you’re going to break.

The reflection staring back at you looks like a completely different person. Their eyes are glassy and red-rimmed, their cheeks blotchy and swollen from all the crying and shame𑁋gosh, was this really you? 

This summer was supposed to be fun, just like for anyone else. You thought you were doing okay. You’ve been going out more with other friends to try and make use of all your free time, tried to get rid of your self-isolating habits by being more productive around the house. But even some of those days felt nothing more than a façade you’ve been trying to keep up with. 

You’re tired. 

You change slowly, slipping out of your wet clothes and into Wonwoo’s hoodie and sweatpants. His clothes smell like him, obviously𑁋you catch the faint scent of fresh detergent and something else that unmistakably belongs to just him. The hoodie practically swallows you whole and the sweatpants pool down at your ankles, but you don’t care. You allow the smell of comfort to linger around you for a few moments. 

Finally, when you emerge from the bathroom, you spot Wonwoo in his small kitchen pouring some tea into two mugs, the steam curling in the air as he brings it into the living room. You slump down onto the far end of the couch, bringing your knees up your chest and wrapping your arms around them like a shield.

Wonwoo approaches and sets two mugs on the coffee table in front of you. Chamomile tea𑁋your favourite, and something he always remembers to prepare for you whenever you’re over. When he sees you dressed in his clothes, his heart can’t help but take a tiny leap. 

He settles himself on the opposite end of the couch, leaving some space in between the two of you. Both of you don’t speak for a couple of moments, simply letting the sounds of the rain falling outside fill in the silence instead. 

You reach over to take the mug into your hands, the warmth of the ceramic seeping through your skin in between the crevices of your bones. Heat glides down your throat as you take a sip of it, and it’s enough to relax your racing mind, if only for just a few seconds. 

“I’m sorry,” You mumble quietly, hiding beneath the rim of the mug. “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

Wonwoo shakes his head after taking a sip of his own. “You don’t need to be sorry for anything.”

You chuckle lowly at that, almost like you’re in disbelief. Wonwoo has always been like this𑁋wielding this seemingly bottomless patience and steady existence that constantly makes you think that you don’t deserve him sometimes, even if he’s reassured you otherwise. He listens to you and you do the same for him on his bad days. You swear he’s too good to be true. 

Perhaps that’s why you haven’t acted on your feelings for him.

“My mother, um… she said some bad things earlier,” You confess, and you hate the way your voice cracks at the end. “She came into my room when I was trying to clean because she always has something to say about it, and then she just… snapped.” 

Next to you, Wonwoo doesn’t say anything yet. He just listens. Waits. 

“She called it a pigsty. Called me a hoarder and that I’m selfish. Said that she was nothing but my maid since I don’t do anything around the house and that I didn’t care about how she feels.” You suck in a breath, trying to fight off the tears welling up in your eyes again. “But I’ve been trying. God, I’ve been trying, but I’m just so, so fucking tired all the time. And then she said that something is wrong with me, and all I could do was freeze.”

Wonwoo’s jaw clenches, but he still stays quiet. 

“Then those thoughts came back in.” Your voice continues to crumble, your grip on the mug tightening in your grasp. “And it all just sent me back into a dark place. Like I just…”

Wonwoo notices the tears streaming down your eyes, and it takes everything in him to resist the urge to bring you into his arms and hold you close enough to make you forget those overwhelming thoughts. But he doesn’t. Not right now, at least. You just need someone to listen, and he’s more than willing to be that person for you, for as long as you’ll have him. 

“It’s hard, you know, to imagine a future,” You continue shakily. “I-I can’t even picture myself in ten years, five years, sometimes even next week. Every time I try to imagine it, it’s all… blank. Nothing. Like I’m not meant to be there.”

That’s what makes him move.

Not to hold you, but just to be closer. Close enough for you to hopefully be reminded that there’s something out there in the rain. 

He sets his mug down on the table, keeping his eyes trained forward. 

“I see you in mine,” he says softly, voice like the caress of a whisper.

Your heart slams against your ribs at his words. “You… do?”

Wonwoo’s gaze flicks back to you, appearing almost bashful. Careful, even. 

“Yeah,” he responds. “Maybe we’re both working at the city library together. Maybe we’re both working different jobs that we don’t hate. Maybe we’re still arguing about which movie adaptations are better than books over tea.”

A ghost of a smile twitches at his lips at the thought. Then you watch the way he hesitates suddenly.

“Maybe we’re still friends,” he adds in, before his voice dips lower, uncertainty crossing over his face. “Or maybe… we’re something more.” 

You blink at him. “Something more?”

Wonwoo just nods solemnly, like he’s scared to repeat it. “If… you’d ever want that someday.”

You don’t say anything right away. You’re not sure if you even could, because right now your heart feels too heavy and weightless all at once. It’s strange how a room can feel suddenly smaller, how your skin can grow warmer just from a singular look from him. And yet, there’s not a single ounce of pressure coming from him.

He’s just being honest, patiently offering this piece of himself to you like a soft-placed bookmark between chapters that’s waiting for you to come back for it one day. 

“And when the people that are supposed to love us say things that hurt us the most,” he assures gently. “It doesn’t mean that it’s true.” 

The couch dips as Wonwoo shifts his body to fully face you. Your grip on your mug loosens a tiny bit, as if it’s not the only thing keeping you grounded because he’s right there beside you. It’s so hard to meet his eyes, but you know that he sees you completely𑁋past the messiness, past the pain, past that shame that clings to your skin like a parasite. 

“You’ve been trying. I know you have,” he says firmly. “Healing isn’t linear, you know? Some days you’re going to be okay, and some days𑁋like today𑁋you won’t be. But it doesn’t mean that you’re back to square one. It doesn’t erase all the progress you’ve made so far.”

You barely even realise that you’re crying again. His words sink through you like it’s the only streak of sunlight shining down through the storm clouds circling around you. For some time, Wonwoo just watches you as you let it all out, his features holding a certain tenderness that makes you crumble even more. 

He takes the chance to scoot closer to you on the couch, and you don’t push him away. 

Then he lifts an unsure hand up and leans in slightly towards you, not before pausing to ask, “Can I?”

You reply with a small nod of your own.

With that, Wonwoo reaches to gently cup his face in your hand, brushing away the tears falling down your cheek with his thumb. Your breath catches at his touch, and you can sense something else lingering in the air when he doesn’t pull back immediately. Instead, his eyes tread carefully over your features. You swear you haven’t seen him up this close before𑁋at least, not this intimately. 

You hardly catch the heavy exhale that leaves him too. He clears his throat when he retrieves his hand away. But the warmth on your cheek still remains. Neither of you say anything for a minute or two. 

“I…” You clear your throat, yet attempt to muster up a half-smile. It’s barely there, but it’s something. “Thank you. For… always being here. If you hadn’t answered, I probably would’ve done something really stupid tonight.”

His face falls a little at your admission, but he isn’t wearing any judgment or disappointment𑁋far from it, actually. He doesn’t fill the air with frantic reassurances. He doesn’t try to talk you out of your feelings like most people might do or pretend they aren’t real. All he does is slowly nod, and the faint smile he gives you makes your heart lodge in your throat. 

“Of course,” he mutters. “I would’ve answered anyway regardless.”

For the first time in a while, it doesn’t feel like a chore to smile. It doesn’t feel like a weakness to allow your guard to fall for once. Because still, he chooses to stay. He always does. 

Later that night, after the tea grew cold and you brushed your teeth using the spare toothbrush Wonwoo had given you, he walks you to his bedroom. He turns on the small lamp on the bedside table and adjusts the pillows and sheets on the bed.

“You can take my bed,” he tells you. “I’ll take the couch.”

You hesitate for a moment as you watch him about to brush past you and back into the living room, but you swiftly stop him. The thought of being alone right now sends a wave of panic coursing through you.

“Wait, I…” Your voice trails off briefly. “Can you stay with me?”

Wonwoo freezes mid-step. “Are you sure?”

You nod, trying to avoid his eyes. “Yeah, I just… I don’t think I can be alone tonight.”

There’s a beat of silence before his expression melts completely. “Okay.”

The lights are dim as you slip into his bed. Wonwoo waits until you’ve completely settled under, before moving to join you, the bed dipping with his weight. He helps pull the blanket over you and himself as he settles on the opposite side, keeping a tentative space in between the two of you. 

You both lie there in silence for a while, your back facing him while listening to the rain continue to patter down on the earth outside. Still, your thoughts haven’t completely died down yet. Your fingers twist lightly into the blanket, and you shift yourself so that you’re fully facing him. You want to say something, but you don’t know how to ask without sounding too much. 

“...Wonwoo?”

“Hm?”

“Can you hold me?”

Wonwoo doesn’t hesitate after that. He shifts closer to you on the bed, close enough you feel his legs brushing over yours underneath the sheets. Slowly, he reaches an arm over your waist, and gently, ever so gently, draws you toward him.

“Is this okay?” he asks quietly. “Not too much?”

“No.” You shake your head. “Never too much.”

With that, he curls his arm a bit more tighter. You find your head resting underneath his chin, cheek pressing softly against his chest. If you muted the rain away, you would probably be able to hear his heartbeat. You wonder if he can feel yours, too. 

“You’re so soft,” Wonwoo mutters into your hair, his chest vibrating as he speaks. “I… I like holding you like this.”

Heat prickles in your eyes as you nuzzle closer into him, allowing his warmth to fully encircle you like a hug. You both stay like that for another while𑁋you melt into the way he rubs soothing shapes up and down your back, and you take in the scent of safety and comfort that’s radiating off him. 

He pulls back slightly when he feels you shift in his hold. You adjust yourself so that you’re facing him eye-level, and for a long, quiet moment, the two of you just simply… look at each other. His hand falls over his forehead, his glasses removed and somewhere on the table. His eyes try to search yours for any hesitation.

“You okay?” he questions unsurely.

“Yeah,” You answer naturally. “Just... wanted to see you.”

You shift a little more towards him, close enough your noses briefly touch, and you hear the way his breath hitches at the contact. His eyes flicker between yours and your lips momentarily, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. At his side, his hand hovers near your face, just like on the couch, and he takes a second to think before shyly cupping your cheek once more, letting his thumb draw over your cheekbone.

“Still okay?”

You nod. “Still okay.”

A relieved sigh leaves him as he carries on with his leisure pace, the tension slowly but surely disappearing from your bodies.

“You’re… really beautiful, you know that?” Wonwoo murmurs sheepishly, nearly soft enough to get lost in the sounds of the rain outside. 

Your face burns at his words, a disbelieving exhale escaping out of you. Because for this entire day, you’ve felt everything but beautiful. “Wonwoo…”

“I mean it,” he says instantly. “When you’re happy, when you’re sad, you’re… beautiful, and I want to keep reminding you of that.”

You feel his hand drift a little lower to your jaw, his thumb now brushing over your lower lip as he studies your face cautiously. There’s no lust in his gaze or performative comfort𑁋only something loving, protective, affectionate, and it’s warm and terrifying all at once. 

Your eyes flutter to a close when you sense his lips hover so close you can taste the warmth of his breath. Your foreheads touch and remain there, and the two of you stay together in that quiet space of maybe. Even after all these years, you’ve never been this close before, and yet, it feels as if this was meant to be. 

“Sleep now, okay?” he reassures you softly. “I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Sleep begins to caress over your eyelids. “Promise?”

You don’t even need to open your eyes or hear him to know he means it.

“I promise.”

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[ihantaet]

dirty mouth - hts ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

⊹₊⋆ thinking about oral fixation!taesan…

content: 𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘴𝘢𝘯 𝘹 𝘨𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨

wc: 579

━━taesan’s mouth was always busy—sucking on the ends of pens, chewing gum until it lost its flavor, pressing his tongue against the back of his teeth. he didn’t seem to even notice the habit. it was a pattern you caught on to quickly, though.

you didn’t go for his belt tonight, even as he lied beneath you, leaned up against the headboard, shirt riding up, breath shallow in his throat. your hand found his jaw instead—slightly tense under your touch—and his lips were already parted. you brushed your fingers over the plush, pink skin. his breath hitched. 

you carefully pressed one past his lips, just enough for him to wrap his mouth around it. he sucked lightly at first, dark eyes searching yours with hesitance. you murmured some encouragement, low and warm, to continue. his shoulders relaxed a bit, reaching up to hold your wrist and letting his eyes flutter shut. 

he dragged his tongue along the pad, sucking with more sureness now. his hips twitched involuntarily beneath you. he anchored himself against you with his other hand on your thigh. he wasn’t thinking anymore, not with words, at least. so, you slowly slipped a second finger in. 

he moaned. 

the sound went straight through you, his grip tightening. you lightly pressed down on his tongue. he sucked harder in return, hips rocking upward in a steady rhythm. his cock was hard against his jeans, trapped between you. he chased the friction without thinking.

then you stopped.

you pulled your fingers out with a soft, slick sound and sat back. he whined, low and needy, jaw slack, hips still chasing nothing.

you smiled, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. "miss it already, don’t you?"

he nodded, quick and eager. you hummed, watching his chest rise and fall, the desperation welling in his eyes.

when you pressed your fingers to his lips again, he opened without hesitation. he took them deeper this time, soaking them down to your knuckles until tears sprung in the corners of his eyes. a broken sound escaped him as his hips jerked up, every muscle taut with need, pressing you closer with both hands.

you finally obliged him, grinding back against him slowly. the friction dragged another moan out of him, his whole body responding with a jolt. 

"think you can cum like this?"

he didn't hum or nod or try to speak. he was far past that. your fingers in his mouth, the press of your hips against his strained cock—they clouded his entire mind. he could only moan in response. he somehow pulled you closer, feeling each rock of your hips even more fully. his fingers dug into your skin, breath stuttering as he sucked harder. it all inched him closer and closer to that edge you’ve been pulling him toward since the first touch. 

then, his whole body bucked under you all at once, mouth still full, eyes shut tight, thighs shuddering. you eased him through it with your hips, watching every tiny expression that crossed his face, absorbing every moan vibrating against your fingers. you didn’t stop until the last wave softened. his hips bucked once more, then stilled completely, his mouth slackening around you.

you slowly drew your fingers from his lips, slick with spit and heat, and you cradled his jaw in your hand. his glassy eyes blinked open, pink, swollen lips feeling around for something, anything to say. you kissed him before he could, soft and grounding.

"good," you whispered against his mouth. "you did really good."

by @ihantaet

[angelic-afsa]

Satoru was done for.

His heart raced as he burst through the door of the place you both shared. Desperate hunger killing him. He had been pent up all day, his cock throbbing in his pants as he fantasized about you. He needed you now.

You, lounged on the couch with a thin tee, hair sprawled all over.

He had smelled your conditioner by the entrance. You had showered. The closer he gets, the more overwhelmed he is. All five senses are foggy as they cloud his mind. He was thinking with his cock as he stumbled towards you.

You had seen him like this in limited occasions. Usually you got fucked good.

He wanted to consume you. He hovers over you, body casting a shadow from where you sat.

He needed to release, and he needed it now.

In a flash, he was on top of you as his muscular body pinned you down. He captured both lips in a bruising kiss. He licked into your mouth, his tongue invading yours.

His hands shook so much as they roamed, squeezing and groped you. Desperate to feel skin against his own.

He fumbled as he took off your tee and threw it somewhere. Exposed tits are what he saw. He paused then continued his actions.

Latching on a stiff nipple, sucking and biting at the sensitive bud. He ground his clothed erection against her core, the friction delicious even through the fabric.

"I need you so bad," he mumbles, his first word's back home today.

He yanked down his own sweatpants, freeing his massive cock. It slapped against his stomach. Rock hard and leaking pre-cum. Satoru hooked his fingers in your panties and ripped them off.

You exclaim out of surprise, he just tosses the torn scrap of fabric to the side. He could practically feel the warmth of your heat as it clouded his mind.

He wanted to taste you so bad. He was going to be the reason in the morning you'd be sore, you predicted. You tug off his shirt as his sculpted chest is fully revealed.

You were done for.

[vaginalvr]

Hiii I was wondering if you could you do one where bau!reader and Spencer are in a relationship and one day she risks her life to catch an unsub. Spencer gets mad at her and gives her the silent treatment. She gets mad at him as well for his reaction, and they have like a little hate oral sex situation but are still angry afterwards. Then, a couple days later, reader maybe drops a glass and cuts herself accidentally or something of the sort, and Spencer panics and runs to make sure she’s ok, showing that he’s just scared to loose her. They finally open up and have sweet makeup sex. 💕💕

oh how sweet

cw: Smut, oral sex (f/m, angry), arguing, blood (minor injury), angst, comfort, makeup sex, language, creampie, established relationship

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

The jet was quiet.

Too quiet.

You sat on one side, head leaned against the window, watching the ground slowly blur beneath the clouds. Spencer sat across from you, one leg crossed, reading a book but not flipping a single page.

He hadn’t said a word to you in almost five hours.

You knew exactly why.

You’d chased the unsub down a dark alley alone. You’d gone against Hotch’s orders, but you’d made the call when the man ducked into a narrow side street, the kind no backup could reach in time.

You caught him. Tackled him to the ground. Disarmed him even when he pulled a knife and slashed at you.

You came out with a ripped vest, a bruised rib, and a few scrapes. But you came out alive.

Spencer, however, had watched it all from the other end of the alley, frozen, wide-eyed, and terrified.

He’d kissed you when the cuffs were on, held you too tightly in the SUV ride back, then said nothing since.

Now he was silent, eyes flicking over the same line of text over and over again.

You finally broke.

“You’re really not going to talk to me?” you asked.

He didn’t look up. “I have nothing to say.”

You scoffed. “That’s bullshit.”

His eyes flicked up, narrowed, but he said nothing again.

You leaned forward. “I saved a life today. Would you rather I just stood there and let that girl die?”

“I’d rather you didn’t fucking risk yours,” he snapped, voice low and venomous.

A few heads turned. Hotch shot you both a look. You fell quiet again. But you were seething.

And so was Spencer.

Back in Quantico, you barely spoke a word. When you got to your shared apartment, Spencer dropped his bag in the hall and walked straight to the bedroom.

You followed, fury still pumping through your veins.

“You don’t get to punish me for doing my job.”

“I’m not punishing you,” he said, taking off his watch, methodically setting it on the nightstand. “I’m processing.”

“Oh, give me a break. You’re mad, and instead of talking to me about it like a grown man, you're throwing a tantrum.”

He turned, jaw tight. “You almost died.”

“I didn’t.”

“But you could have. You chose to. You didn’t even wait for backup. You—”

“I knew what I was doing!”

“You don’t get to make that call without thinking about what happens to me if you don’t come back!”

You both fell silent again.

Chest heaving. Eyes locked.

The tension cracked, not with peace, but with lust, heat, rage, need.

“I hate when you do this,” you snarled, stepping forward, pushing at his chest. “Act like you care so much, then shut me out.”

“I hate that you think I can just watch you throw yourself into danger and not feel like I’m losing my mind.”

You shoved him. Harder.

He caught your wrist. Gripped it tight. His chest pressed to yours.

“I hate you,” you hissed.

“I hate you more,” he growled back.

Then he dropped to his knees.

“No—fuck you, Spencer—don’t think this fixes anything,” you stammered, heart racing as he shoved your pants down, dragging your panties with them.

His hands gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise. His mouth was hot and angry as it latched onto your clit.

Your hand flew to his hair.

“Oh my God—Spencer—fuck—”

He didn’t tease, didn’t warm you up. He devoured you like he was mad at your pussy for tempting fate. His tongue was relentless, licking and sucking with sharp, precise intent, and his grip didn’t let you move—didn’t let you run, didn’t let you think.

You came too fast, trembling and gasping, thighs clenched around his face.

He pulled back, mouth slick, eyes still burning.

You shoved at him. “Don’t think this fixes anything.”

“Didn’t say it did.”

He stood. Wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Walked past you to the bathroom.

You stared at the wall.

And hated how wet you still were.

Two days of silence.

You slept on the couch one night. He did the next.

The air in the apartment was heavy, static, thick with everything unsaid.

Until Tuesday night.

You were reaching for a glass in the kitchen, exhausted from a long case debrief, when your grip slipped.

It hit the counter, shattered.

You gasped and jerked back—too late.

A shard sliced across your palm.

Blood welled fast.

“Shit,” you hissed, grabbing a towel, trying to stop the bleeding. It stung, hot and deep, and your knees buckled a little with the sudden pain.

“Y/N?” Spencer called from the study.

You didn’t answer. Just hissed again.

Then you heard footsteps—running.

He rounded the corner, saw the red staining the towel, and panicked.

“Jesus—what happened?!”

“I dropped a glass, I just—fuck, it hurts—”

He was already grabbing your wrist, inspecting the cut with trembling fingers.

“I’m fine,” you tried.

“No, you’re not—God, you’re not—come here—sit—sit down—”

He guided you to the kitchen chair, voice shaking.

“Spence—”

“You could need stitches,” he muttered. “You could pass out from blood loss. You could get an infection—fuck—”

“Spencer.”

He looked up.

You’d never seen his eyes like that before.

Terrified. Raw. Vulnerable.

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he whispered.

And suddenly, it wasn’t about the cut.

It wasn’t about the alley.

It was everything.

“I can’t lose you,” he said again. “I can’t.”

You reached out with your good hand, cupping his cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think—about what it would do to you.”

He exhaled, eyes falling closed. Leaned into your palm like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground.

“I’m scared all the time,” he said. “But that night—watching him pull that knife—I felt it. I felt what it would be like if I didn’t get to kiss you again. If I didn’t get to argue with you, or listen to you snore, or make you coffee. And I—I didn’t know how to come down from that.”

You swallowed hard. “So you shut me out.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I was just… scared.”

You nodded. “Me too.”

His hand slid to your knee.

Yours slid into his curls.

He kissed you like an apology and a prayer.

You kissed him back like he was breath after drowning.

He pulled you into his lap right there in the kitchen chair, cradling your bandaged hand gently against his chest as your mouths moved in sync, desperate and soft and slow.

His hands roamed your back. Yours fumbled with his belt.

“I missed you,” he murmured, forehead to yours.

“I’m right here,” you breathed.

He lifted you, carried you to the bedroom with reverence.

Stripped you gently this time. Like you were precious. Like you were made of the most fragile porcelain.

“Do you want this?” he asked, voice breaking.

“Yes. Always.”

He entered you slowly, stretching you with care, making you both gasp at the intimacy of it. There was no anger now. Just love.

His hips rolled into yours, long and deep and rhythmic, each thrust a confession.

“I love you,” he whispered into your shoulder. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you moaned, arms wrapped tight around him.

He made love to you like it was the last time he ever would. Like he had to memorize your body with every motion.

You came around him, clenching and pulsing, and he held you through it, breathing you in like oxygen.

“I’m close,” he warned, breath ragged.

“Come inside me,” you whispered. “Please.”

And he did—shuddering, trembling, heart pounding against yours.

After, he held you close, your face pressed to his chest, your bandaged hand resting over his heart.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised.

He kissed the top of your head. “I know.”

But he held you tighter anyway.

Just in case.