#beggin for thread

[notesofseptember]

And I'm no good at aimin'

But I can aim it at you

[glittergroovy]

Beggin for Thread || BANKS

[vinthetiefling]

My words can come out as a pistol, and I’m no good at aimin’, but I can aim it at you.

— BANKS, Beggin For Thread

[chimiye]

Matthew Broome as less toxic Nick Leister My Fault: London (2025) Dir. Charlotte Fassler & Dani Girdwood

[windblume-violet]

5 days until Getian arrives.... my account is SO ready

[weshadow]

Okay look the Just Dance brainrot is strong and I am fully away that I am going full tinfoil hat here but HEAR ME OUT: What if this is Night Swan and Cygnus as teenagers

I mean I am building this entirely on vague color schemes and top hats but if you turn your head and squint.

Like if you give me two boys who are in love and who wear top hats I'm just gonna start making connections. Look at them tho! Imagine baby pre-Night Swan and Cygnus doing the whole star-crossed lovers thing!

...And then she fails as a ballerina and goes cuckoo for cocoa puffs. And clearly they broke up and he never got over her.

Not entirely sure I see him as Jack's father, though they both do have the red in common. And I suppose they do share a flair for the dramatic and an appreciation for bold lipstick.

That's my boy.

[murkyhazed]

@wexarethewalkingxdead said: ❝ i know you’re ignoring me, but i’m going to keep talking anyways. ❞ (from Carol to Daryl)

               it   wasn’t   that   he   was   ignoring   her   per   say,   he   was   just   determined   and   heavily   focused   on   finding   the   kid.      something   that   daryl   couldn’t   handle   was   losing   him   too.      he   may   not   be   as   connected   to   these   people   as   he   was   with   his   family   back   home,   but   he   still   felt   a   certain   responsibility   for   them.      he   had   failed   both   sylvie   and   isabelle   already,   he   wasn’t   about   to   fail   laurent.      if   those   assholes   got   a   hold   of   laurent…      no,   he   couldn’t   think   like   that.      he   would   find   the   boy,   and   he   would   take   him   back   home   where   these   french   fucks   couldn’t   lay   their   hands   on   him   again.

               ❝   ain’t   ignorin’   you.   ❞      he   responds,   his   pace   slowing   down   only   slightly.      daryl   couldn’t   even   begin   to   describe   the   feelings   inside   of   him   now   that   carol   was   here.      she   had   been   on   his   mind   since   the   day   he   left   the   commonwealth,   and   he   had   never,   ever,   stopped   thinking   about   her.      it   was   crazy   really,   wishing   that   he   had   her   in   those   moments   where   he’d   been   taken,   wishing   she   was   there   to   help   him   out   of   this   fucked   up   situation.      fighting   off   all   of   those   walkers   on   his   way   out   of   the   dungeon,   he’d   been   wishing   he   had   her   by   his   side.      then   she’d   been   there,   like   a   dream.      had   made   him   wonder   if   he’d   actually   just   died   and   was   hallucinating   in   his   final   moments   before   the   darkness   took   him.      but   no,   carol,   his   carol,   had   really   been   there.      she’d   really   made   her   way   across   the   fucking   ocean   to   find   him.      how   could   he   have   ever   doubted   that   she   wouldn’t.

               so   while   he   may   not   have   been   answering   her   questions   or   responding   to   her   words,   he’d   been   listening.      he’d   been   appreciating   the   sound   of   her   voice   because   it   always   calmed   him.      his   imagination,   his   remembrance   of   words   she’d   spoken   had   only   gotten   him   so   far.      having   the   real   thing   again?      it   made   his   heart   race   just   a   little   less,   made   his   blood   pressure   drop   just   a   little   more.      carol   was   his   angel,   his   saving   grace.      without   her   here?      he’d   be   fucking   lost.

               ❝   i’m   listenin’,   you   know.      just…      need   to   find   this   kid.      hearin’   your   voice   is   helpin’   me   not   fall   off   the   deep   end.      keepin’   me   grounded,   and   i   need   that.   ❞      he   stops   then,   turning   his   gaze   to   her,   peering   at   those   gorgeous   blues   through   his   disheveled   bangs.      ❝   don’t   stop   talkin’,   please.   ❞

[luvbabydoll]

Idk if i should put requests here but could you please do inexperienced reader giving simon a blowjob for the first time and accidentally using too much teeth so now he has to teach her how to give bjs 😩😩

a/n: UGH!!! he’s so hot i need him !!!! this got me out of my cod writers block

you’re kneeling between simon’s legs, heart pounding, hands fumbling nervously as you look up at him. his mask is off, those sharp hazel eyes locked on you, a mix of patience and something darker flickering in them. your lips are still tingling from the clumsy attempt you just made, and the slight wince he let slip—barely audible, but enough to make you freeze and it has your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“too much teeth, love,” he says, voice low and rough with that thick mancunian drawl, a hint of amusement curling at the edges. he’s sprawled back on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, the other resting on his thigh, fingers twitching like he’s fighting the urge to guide you himself. “gonna have to ease up a bit, yeah?”

you nod, swallowing hard, your throat tight with nerves. “sorry,” you mumble, barely meeting his gaze. your hands hover awkwardly, not sure where to start again.

“nowt to be sorry for,” he says, leaning forward slightly, his voice softening just a touch. “just need a bit of practice, that’s all. c’mere.” he crooks a finger, motioning you closer. you shuffle forward, and he reaches out, calloused thumb brushing your bottom lip, slow and deliberate. “open up. slow-like. let’s start there.”

you do as he says, parting your lips, and he guides you with that same steady hand, his touch firm but not forceful. “right, now mind your teeth. keep ‘em tucked back—use your lips, yeah? like you’re kissin’ it.” his voice is a low rumble, matter-of-fact but laced with something that makes your stomach flip.

he shifts, guiding your head down gently, his fingers threading through your hair. “start slow,” he instructs, eyes never leaving you. “just the tip first. tongue’s your mate here—swirl it, soft-like. don’t rush.”

you follow his lead, tentative at first, your tongue flicking out to trace him. his breath hitches, a faint “fuck” slipping out under his breath, and it spurs you on. you try to mimic what he’s described, keeping your teeth well out of the way, letting your lips glide over him. it’s awkward, uncoordinated, but you’re trying, and he notices.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, voice thicker now, his grip in your hair tightening just a fraction. “good girl. now take a bit more—easy, don’t force it. breathe through your nose.”

you do your best, inching down slowly, your jaw straining as you focus on keeping it smooth. his low groan tells you you’re doing something right, but then your teeth graze him again—just a faint scrape—and he hisses, tugging your hair lightly to pull you back.

“oi, teeth again,” he says, but there’s no real bite to his tone, just a gruff chuckle. “you’re eager, i’ll give ya that. c’mon, let’s try it another way.” he shifts, sitting up straighter, and pats his thigh. “rest your hands here. keeps you steady.”

you place your palms on his thighs, the muscle solid under your touch, and he nods approvingly. “right. now focus on the rhythm. up and down, slow and steady. use your hand for what your mouth can’t reach—twist it a bit, like this.” he wraps his own hand over yours, guiding it in a slow, twisting motion that makes him curse softly again.

you try again, combining everything he’s told you—lips soft, tongue teasing, hand moving in time with your mouth. it’s still messy, your inexperience obvious, but simon’s not complaining. his head tips back slightly, jaw tight, and the low, gravelly “fuck, that’s better” he lets out feels like a victory.

“keep goin’,” he says, voice dropping an octave, his hand in your hair more guiding than controlling now. “you’ll get the hang of it. just listen to what i’m tellin’ ya, and you’ll have me beggin’ in no time.”

you glance up at him, catching the way his eyes are half-lidded, lips parted just enough to show a flash of teeth. it’s enough to make you double your efforts, determined to prove you can learn. and with simon’s low, steady instructions filling the air, you’re starting to think you just might.

[ssweetleaf]

set phasers to stun.

summary: joel wants you to sit on his face— you think you’re far too heavy for something like that.

pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

includes: SMUT 18+, face sitting/cunnilingus, dom!joel, i wrote this with an age gap in mind, but it isn’t really specified so make it up girlies, a bit of spanking, slight insecure!reader, pet names (honey, girlie, baby, babygirl, sunshine) a tad of a daddy kink (i’m sorry, it’s me, what do you expect?)

a/n: sorry i’ve been gone again, i’m back in my pedro pascal phase and this just came out of nowhere lol. let me know what you think. dividers credit goes to @saradika-graphics <33

“Quit your whinin’ and sit the fuck down.”

You were hovering over Joel’s face, thighs twitching and burning from their position, careful not to bump any part of yourself into him— too scared to fully sit yourself upon his face like he had so desperately asked for earlier in the day.

“Joel— m’too heavy,” you muttered, cheeks heating, shifting your weight from knee to knee and hands on the headboard, knuckles whitening from your firm grip.

He lifted a big palm against the cheek of your ass in a sharp, searing slap, quelling your whirring thoughts for just a moment, the burn of his hand print thick and heavy upon the globe of your ass.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” he growled, teeth clenched, eyes boring into yours from underneath you and you would’ve frowned at the sight of the protruding pudge of your belly when you looked down, but the constant smoothing of his callused hands against the soft rolls and swells of your body had you stifling it.

“Now listen here, honey,” he huffed, shifting his face to the side to press a few spongy kisses to the thickness of your thighs. “I ain’t gonna tell ya again.”

Joel was firm with his words, the low timbre shooting throughout your core and flooding your folds with a surge of arousal.

“Y’gonna take a seat, and y’gonna ride my fuckin’ face till I say you can stop, y’hear?”

“Joel, I—Ow!”

Another spank, on the other cheek this time, but just as hard, the print blooming in the shape of his calluses and the ring on his finger.

“Girlie.” The fond pet name was now a word of warning, almost daring you to disobey him. “Sit, now.”

You swallowed thickly, and with a shaky breath you lowered yourself down, easing onto his handsome face, the broad slope of his nose prominent against your slit, and you gasped at his deep inhale, breathing your scent deep into his lungs, almost savouring it before nudging your clit with the tip of his nose.

Your lashes fluttered, threatening to close once he mouthed a kiss to your pussy lips, teasingly sucking your folds into his eager mouth, careful to avoid your poor, puffy clit and keep you on edge.

“Look at this pretty cunt, hm?” he cooed, gruff and thick, muffled slightly from between your thighs and beneath your soft belly. “She’s been beggin’ for this, baby and you’ve been keeping her from me.”

His tongue peeked out from between his lips, swiping a long, fat stripe from your slick, fluttering hole, to the engorged jewel of your clit.

“Oh!” You whined, threading your fingers through his thick curls, tugging slightly once his lips enveloped your pearl, suckling it into his mouth, humming into your heat, the vibrations sending shockwaves throughout your cunt and you moaned out at the feeling. “Joel, fuck.”

He pulled back only slightly, brow raised and eyes dark and glistening— a big palm squeezed at the fat of your ass. A little warning.

“Language.” he clicked his tongue, turning to nuzzle into the thickness of your thigh, biting into it with dull molars and sharp canines, urging another wave of slick to surge your poor cunt.

“S-sorry!” You squeaked out, nails scratching against his scalp the way he liked as a little apology. “Keep going, please.”

You could feel his smirk against your flesh, tongue swiping at the marks he bit and sucked into the sensitive skin of your thighs.

“There she is,” he hummed, “now ya beggin’ for it, aren’t ya, baby? Knew you’d come around some time.”

Joel dove back into your cunt, lapping crudely at your hole, picking up silver strings of arousal on his tongue before lolling it over your peaked clit— smacking kisses to it, practically making out with your poor pussy whilst humming happily into your heat.

“Just needed some persuadin’, huh, sunshine?” he spoke into your pussy, voice muffled and barely legible through your hazy brain. “Just needed your ol’ man to eat this pretty pussy from down here, didn’t ya, babygirl?”

You cried out, nodding profusely at his filthy words and personification of your cunt, tears ebbing at your waterline and slowly easing over.

“Been havin’ so much trouble with my damn back— just layin’ here while you ride my face is so much better, sugar.”

Knowing your man wasn’t in pain, that his usual achy back and knees were quelled and sated by his current position, instead of the place he so often took between your legs with a hunched back and sore knees, had you relaxing somewhat.

‘Makin’ y’daddy a happy man, baby,” he groaned, fisting at the fat of your hips, leaving you tight and secure against his face. “fuckin’ dripping down my throat.”

You could feel the tightening in your belly, coiling throughout your insides, warming you up and leaving you panting, fisting at any part of him you could find.

“J-Joel,” you panted, chest heaving up and down, up and down, nails in his scalp, in his shoulder blades, even reaching behind you at his thighs. “so close.”

Your speech was clipped, lips stuttering and drool slipping from the corner of your mouth.

“Ah ah,” he shook his head, lips still suckling at your clit after every other word. “None of that, you ask for daddy’s permission— you know what to do.”

You whined again, long and drawn out, bucking your hips and huffing out— there was a warmth upon your cheeks that blossomed, creeping down your neck and teasing the tips of your ears, all shy now when asking your man to cum.

“Please, Joel,” you sighed out, thighs squeezing at his ears, clamping him tight underneath you. “can I cum? Pretty please?”

“Please, what?” He huffed, gruff and quick, tongue lolling and rolling over your spit-slick clit before thrusting the pink muscle into your quivering hole. “Ain’t got all day, hon.”

“Daddy— please, daddy! Need’a cum.”

“Atta girl, such nice manners— taught you good, baby girl. Cum f’me.”

[redcherrykook]

✰ said you wanna be good but you're beggin' me to come over.

✰ 01 / 2 / 03 / series m list.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

tags: bestfriendsboyfriend!jungkook, boxer!jungkook, cheater!jungkook (not on oc) , oral (male rec), backshots, choking, praise, clit play, hickies, adressing the problem (not really)

note from cherry: shameless two !! Took me ages,, unedited!!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

He smells like bitter cigaretts and a wet dream ripping you out of your slumber with gentle agression.

Especially after knocking out another opponent with gloved cushioned hands, the red running down his nose accentuates his pink lips. They tend to remain with the taste of iron even after the referee lifts his muscular, bruised arm- even after the celebratory hug to his coach, the sweat droplets mixing in as he barely kisses her over the bounds of the ring, like a boyfriend should. But when the lights dim, and Jungkook looks for you between faces he should feel attached to, you stand out with a proud smile, wrap your arms around his figure and whisper a short word of congratulations into his ear.

Unlike her, you don't bother for his stench ruining your lavender perfume, or the fact that his hair is damp and reeks of leather and iron.

You don't wipe your glossed lips with the back of your hand after the sloppy kisses behind the fighters lockers, instead your tongue seeks him out; seeks his blood, his hard work - you honor it, his win, his strength, his sins, his prayers.

"That was for you, i hope you know" he mutters, smearing the dried blood off his roughed up skin as you kiss down his neck, savouring the sloppy, lazy slump his body makes reactively,

"Not for her?" Jungkook hums, runs his hand through his dishevled hair as the sly grin spreads across his busted lip,

"It's never for her baby"

You're not the girl he kisses first when he beats someone in the ring. You're not the song that rips through his notifications when he doesn't call back immediately, or the one he goes on dinner dates with, buys fresh tulips for. You would never be. It's impossible - almost unfair to attempt and shove you in a box of senseless relationships and ordinary life. Youre not, you can never be. Yet, you desire to be.

His heart doesn't race when she looks at him with wide innocent eyes, not anymore- his cock doesn't twitch when her sliver of skin beneath the hem of her crop top shows as it rides up. She's familiar, he's gotten used to the burn in his nose from her gucci flora that invades him with a simple hug, the routine habit of washing his hoodies after every meeting feels colorless, likewise with the words he forgets to feel everytime they run past him, flow out before he registers that he spoke them.

And when he hears his own deep voice lie to her undeserving face, he doesn't care to stop in utter shame anymore, Jungkook's shameless now. You made him shameless.

"Why don't you just leave her gguk" the statement floats heavy between your desire fueled bodies, your hands dig down his shorts waistband, taking his heavy cock out to slap against his ripped abandomen, he groans, finds grounding in the roots of your strands.

"I promised i will, jus' need time..- mhh- fuck" throaty moans rip from his lips that part as yours do, his head leans back into the hard metal of his locker, gazes down to your seated form in between his muscular thighs

"don't wanna think about her when my pretty girl is on her knees for me" you can't help the giggle that slips between kitten licks to his leaking, pink tip, he recriporates it with low hums, threading his fingers through tangles he created. His other large hand makes its way to cradle your jaw between his fingers,

"wider baby, c'mon"

You comply wordlessly, tear open your jaw for him to grab the base of his girth, slap it against your salivating tongue, "gooood girl" he rasps, turning the sound into a delicious moan.

Heat rises to your cheeks, burning down your body to pool in your panties while he thrusts his hips forward, resting himself into your hot, wet mouth, he hits the back of your throat effortlessly- grips the back of your head like he physically needs to feel your nose hit his pelvis and you gagging around his leaking tip.

Jungkook looses himself in the insistant drag of his cock in your mouth- back, forth, bottoming out, gliding back into it. Wires of warm saliva and little vibrating whimpers hug him into the sensations, he feels dizzy from the pleasure, tugs at your hair in an effort to stablize but it's no use,

"just like that- aah fuck baby" he repeats- chants the strom of eroticism and your sensually deep bobbs into words of praise and groans, lets his eyelids flutter, dim the sight of your arousing frame until all he can do is feel- feel so much at once, that he fails to warn you as the tight rope snaps,

It runs down your throat, creamy and slightly salty and somehow you still swallow every drop jungkook allows you to have, let it drip on your swollen bottom lip when he retracts his flaccid length from your warm mouth.

"Such a good girl, need to get your little pussy filled don't you?" he mutters, already having found the small of your back in his hands, draped you over the bench so your rear would point up to him- show your all to him. His long, tired fingers run along your wetness, stimulate the throbbing button that makes you shrierk- makes you grip the bench with your chipped nails.

"mhh, so wet f'me. My pussy, gonna give it to you sweet thing. Fill that needy little hole"

Jungkooks teeth graze your shoulder for a brief moment, his cock stands tall in the grip of his palm as he rubs it against your entrance, teasing, testing how loud he can make you beg for it- for his ego, for his validation, he does it for all that, but mostly to please you. To ascend your youthful scheme into something flourishingly adolescent with the seemingly only thing he could bring himself to give you. With orgams, his lips, his hands, his cock, his needy groans. All, into something that grew up, grew old, grew stable. Something that, akin to a relationship, stands on footing with ingrown, woven roots.

The feeling that surged in him when he first indulged into your seduction continues to grow aswell- seek his knowledge that he's the one making you cum, he's the one thats filling you with every inch of his cock, watching your pussy stretch around him, take it all. Your siren like, rotten sweet moans confirm his every suspition, deny his every doubt with every repetito of his name that tumbles down your tongue,

"fuck- jungkook right there - h-aah- oh god fuck, fuck"

"mhm.. i know doll.. s'fuckin tight for me"

His eyes practically gleam while watching you- you were just so beautiful, so sexy- bend over just for him, with your spine glistening, his fingers digging bruises into the flesh of your ass- the repeated, sexual noise of his hips slamming into you, his cock plunging in your drenched cunt that sounded so much like love, it felt dangerous

The way he grabbed you by the neck- never stopped to think twice as he pulled you into his uncontrollably raging body- moved in deeper, synced your high pitched cries with his guttural noises, none of it was remotely safe- and while he knew he shouldnt suck on your neck, bite into your skin where everyone would see- jungkook was an animal. Sucked, licked, dug until your neck was decorated with his borderline purple claims, threatening to rock into you so far he'd bruise your cervix

"m'gonna come so hard- ohh fuckk kook"

You, exhausted, blissed, drinking in every deep thrust of is- felt every suck on your neck- couldnt help but fall into his perfectly set trap like a unknowning doe. Succumb to his thumb that reached around to hastily circle your clit, you cry for him- let him know how good he feels, how your body belongs to him.

Because you, are far from a helpless little doe. You- although he was well aware, craved him. Wanted him. Need him too deeply to care- to consider how someone you loved was going to fall into specs, you desired to own jungkook. To the untrained, naked eye, this is all superficial perversion, lack of dignity.

It was disgusting to wash yourself of his traces, disgusting that you would miss his reminder on your body, disgusting that you grew in love with knowing- he doesn't fuck her like this.

Even more disgusting, filthy even, that fucking him was all you had- and the sole thought made your stomach churn in possessive anger.

And in this very moment, in the midst of melting yourself, watching each other bloom through sloppy thrusts and half annunciated pleas, he gave himself to you- all he gave himself premisision to- once again.

"aah- shiit.. filled you up so goddamn much- lookkk at thaaat.. fuckk.."

The spoken words stretch, short gasps leave your lips while you spasm from loss of contact. He rubs your cheeks, spreads them to watch his cum slowly drop out of your weeping cunt, presses a wet kiss to the leaking entrance to know how it would taste like if he got what he truly wanted - what he was afraid of. Like the shadow of it hadnt been cast for a long time , the unity between your bodies, reaching its daggers further into your vulnerable beings.

"Where did you get those from?" she asked- hushed, with a smirk on her face after youve watched her unwrap her arms around her boyfriend, who, hid the matching pieces to her little puzzle under his shirt.

"A dude from the club. He was.. a bit passionate, i guess" you giggle at her, innocently flash your smile with burning glances to the man behind her, who is paying to mind to you, engaged in conversation with a mutual friend.

"Mhm, damn" she pauses, letting herself soak in a tiny second of sorrow, leans into you a bit, continues- "you know, i kinda miss having sex"

"What? He still doesn't..? Its been a bit"

your heart excelerates, steadily drums pride into your bloodstream, you dont show- instead, your lips contort into a small pout, your trained hand rubs her arm as she sighs in consideration,

"No.. i do feel like.. i don't know its stupid but.." she trails of, biting her lip conflicted.

"No, no tell me. Im sure its not stupid"

deep breath in, as she exhales, it sends a shiver down your spine,

"I kind of.. i dont know, i think he might be cheating on me"

[kakashisacademia]

17 for katsuki bakugooo

17. “Keep whining like that and I’ll lose control. Is that what you want?”

Your fingers twisted in the sheets, back arching off the bed as another wave of heat rolled through you. You should’ve kept the suppressants up, but Katsuki had been looking at you like the second your scent started to shift, his Alpha instincts had locked in with laser precision. He stood at the foot of the bed now, broad arms crossed, jaw tight and every inch of him straining to not pounce.

“Keep whining like that,” he growled lethally, “and I’ll lose control. Is that what you want?”

You whimpered, your body reacting before your mouth could answer. Slick soaked your thighs. and Katsuki smelled it. His nostrils flaring, his eyes darkening like smoke right before the blast.

“I asked you a fuckin’ question,” he hissed, crawling onto the bed with dangerous grace. “Is that what you want? Me to lose it? To take you like a real Alpha would?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him. He grabbed your chin, tilting your face up so you couldn’t look away from his burning gaze. “Use your words, Omega.”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Katsuki, I want you to. I need you, please.”

That was the last thread of restraint he had. Katsuki growled low in his throat, mouth crashing to yours with bruising heat. His body pinned you down, the weight of him solid and grounding and everything. His scent of smoky caramel and molten heat flooded your senses, dizzying you.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect like this,” he muttered between kisses. “Drippin’, needy, beggin’ for your Alpha.”

His hands were rough and sure, dragging your shirt up to toss it aside. His mouth found your neck, licking the scent gland with a feral sound.

“Mine,” he snarled, sharp teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. “Gonna fill you up, knot you so good you’ll forget everything and everyone except for your Alpha.”

You keened, legs falling open for him instinctively. He shoved your thighs apart with a possessive grip, dragging his cock along your soaked entrance.

“Feel that?” he murmured, lining himself up. “That’s what you do to me. Can’t think straight. Can’t fuckin’ breathe unless I’m inside you.”

You choked on a sob, need clawing through you like fire. “Please Kats, need you to-”

He pushed in slowly, watching your face twist and your pussy stretch to take him.

“There you fuckin’ go,” he groaned. “Nice and tight. Perfect little Omega cunt made for me.”

The pace he set was brutal, deep and precise like he wanted to ruin anyone else for you forever. But you were already his and god help the poor asshole who’d try to take you from him.

[itsrubesshawty]

Spit it out.

This is set before “Your Pack Alpha and Vampire mate meet about you”

Tw: overdose

The text had come in hours ago.

Just a single word.

“Sorry.”

Sam had stared at it for longer than he wanted to admit, thumb hovering above his screen, jaw clenched. Something about it was wrong. Not just the word—everything. The silence after. The emptiness it carried.

He hadn’t been able to sit still after that.

Now he stood outside Darlin’s apartment, heart in his throat. The scent hit him first—through the wood, through the lock—faint but wrong. Wrong in the way that made his cold blood lurch inside him.

Fear.

He knocked once. No answer.

“Darlin’?” he called, loud enough to echo down the hallway.

Still nothing.

He didn’t wait after that. He shoved the door open.

It wasn’t just the smell. It was the stillness. Everything inside felt frozen—like time had stopped, like the world had paused in the middle of a scream.

“Darlin’!”

He found them in the bathroom.

On the floor. Slumped against the side of the tub. A puddle of sick soaking into their shirt. A half-empty bottle of cheap liquor on the counter. Pill bottles scattered across the tile like bones.

Sam’s heart stopped. Then roared to life.

He was on the floor beside them in seconds, hands shaking as he cradled the back of their head. “Hey—hey, hey, breathe, come on, you’re okay, stay with me—”

Darlin’ coughed, a wet, broken sound, and more bile splattered down their front. Their whole body trembled, weak and limp in his arms.

“No—n-no, Sam—” Their voice cracked, hoarse and slurred. “Don’t… don’t tell David—please—please don’t tell him—”

“Shhh. Shhh, don’t do that,” Sam whispered, holding the back of their neck, fingers glowing with barely restrained healing magic. “Don’t waste breath beggin’ me, you’re okay—you’re okay—I’ve got you—”

“I didn’t mean to,” Darlin choked out. “I just… I wanted it to stop. Just for a minute.”

Sam’s heart shattered in slow motion.

The magic pulsed from his palms into their spine—gentle, like warm water washing over frayed nerves. Not enough to burn through the pain, but enough to steady them. Enough to keep their heart from giving out.

They gagged again, and he held them upright while their body purged what it could. When it passed, they collapsed into his chest, breath shallow and uneven.

“Don’t tell him,” they whispered again, barely audible. “He’ll hate me. He’ll think I’m weak.”

Sam gritted his teeth, rage burning behind his ribs—not at them, never at them—but at the world, at the people who made Darlin’ believe that pain made them lesser. That survival was something shameful.

“I’m not gonna tell him,” he said, softer now. “Not unless you want me to. This isn’t about David. This is about you.”

They whimpered—just a small, wounded sound—and Sam pulled them closer, sitting back against the wall and letting them curl into him.

“I’m sorry,” they said again, voice breaking.

“Stop apologizin’. You’re not a crime scene. You’re not broken.” His fingers threaded through their hair, brushing back sweat and tears. “You’re just tired. And fuck, I get it. But don’t scare me like that again, Darlin’. Please.”

“I didn’t think you’d come.”

That broke something inside him.

He let out a breath like a punch to the chest, leaned down, pressed his forehead to theirs. “You texted me one word and I ran here like the goddamn building was on fire. You think I wouldn’t come?”

“I don’t know,” they whispered. “Sometimes I think people only stay when I’m doing okay. When I’m easy to love.”

Sam exhaled slowly, struggling to keep his voice level. “You’re not easy to love right now. You’re hard to love, Darlin’. But I’m still here. Not ‘cause you’re perfect, not ‘cause you’re calm or quiet or fixed. I’m here because you’re you.”

Silence fell between them. Thick. Heavy. Honest.

Darlin’ shifted, fingers curled into the front of his shirt like they were still falling. “My head hurts,” they muttered, eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah. That’ll happen when you take a bunch of shit that was never meant to be in your system.” He let his hand hover over their stomach, breath steadying. “I’m gonna heal you. More this time. It’s gonna feel like you’re burning from the inside for a second, but it’ll flush the rest out. You with me?”

A slow nod.

Then the glow intensified.

Darlin’ tensed in his arms, gasped. A rush of warmth and pressure tore through them like wildfire, and they cried out, gripping him tighter. He whispered through it, grounding them, anchoring them. His voice was low, steady, even when his own eyes stung.

It passed. Eventually.

Their body went limp again—lighter now, less sick. Just… empty.

“Sam…” Their voice was thinner now. Fragile. “If I hadn’t texted you…”

“Don’t,” he cut in, eyes sharp. “Don’t say it. You did text me. And I came. That’s what matters.”

Darlin’ blinked, tears welling again. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me like this.”

Sam stared at them, unblinking. “Deal with you?”

“Like this. Messed up. Scared. Crying on the bathroom floor.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “Darlin’, I’d take a hundred nights like this over a single day where I don’t know if you’re okay.”

They buried their face in his chest again.

And this time, he didn’t say anything. He just held them, until their breathing evened out, until their hands stopped shaking, until the apartment smelled more like healing than blood and shame.

Until they believed—for even just a moment—that they were allowed to fall apart without being left behind.

[demonwebs-a]

❝ fine ... ❞ a begrudging reassurance that he'll leave his clothes alone ; but not merrily , not with satisfaction , not without feeling his fingers twitch with the compulsive urge to destroy something , barely placated . he reaches for astarion's face instead , grasping gently by the chin and slightly tilting it from left to right , inspecting all the tiny details as if he expects to find something . ❝ you're a strange little elf ... ❞ vhaal'krin notes , vermilion swirling with unspoken curiosity beneath his lashes , fixated on his pale companion . ❝ i rather like you . ❞ he doesn't quite know what to do with that , just yet , but he's confident he'll figure it out .

❝ it's horrible ... i can't remember the last time i didn't have a target to pursue ... all this free time is agonizing . ❞ he gives a hand , and the drow takes an arm ; greedy for attention , he encircles the pale elf with a predatory gait , until he can drape himself over his shoulders , hanging off him like a coat , chin perched at the bump of his shoulder sheepishly . ❝ that doesn't sound too bad ... i guess we could do that when we reach baldur's gate - plenty of easy prey there ... except - aah ... that's taking forever and ... mm , well , it's not as if drow make a habit of hunting humans , anyways ... ❞ small canines peek out as his mouth twists into a wolfish grin , playful . ❝ ... i guess could always just hunt you . ❞

“  quite, ” his head tilts, a curious gesture, sanguine gaze astute in it's observations. most elves knew the surface-level need-to-knows of drow kind, but it was an experience in and of itself in the flesh. astarion had never cared to venture into the depths of the underdark to meet one, lest they slit his throat in greeting and play hacky-sack with his sawed-off head. perhaps caution was, indeed, warranted, however, he would be remiss not to take the opportunity to ... get to know him. the stronger the allies he had around him, the better his chances of survival, after all.

“  i know it must be terribly hard for you, ” his sarcasm neglects to offer that shred of pity so sought after. his tune does shift, however, only slightly, at the question posed. “  well, how does anyone have fun? ” he leans in with a grin, as if divulging a juicy secret. “  a night of passion, a vintage bottle of wine, a decadent feast and soiree, a night-time hunt― ” his amusement devolves into a disappointment. one of many reasons to reach baldur's gate posthaste, aside from seeking out his old master in his bid for vengeance, was the abundance of choice on offer; entertainment aplenty. “  we're not exactly spoiled for choice out here. ”

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x fem!reader.

the day after another full moon, blitzø comes into the office bragging about his sexual prowess. when you make one too many snide comments about it, he decides to show you just how good stolas gets it every month.

based on an anonymous request and far longer than I originally planned.

4k.

featuring: pure smut, bondage, oral sex (m&f receiving), breathplay, dom!blitzø, overstimulation, degradation, daddy kink, sex in the i.m.p. office, creampies, very minor bloodplay.

“Well,” Blitzø makes a show of stretching his arms out in front of him as he comes strolling into the office, interlacing his fingers and cracking his knuckles. “If the way his Royal Bird-ness was still shakin’ and droolin’ when I left is any indication, we’re good for at least another – where the fuck are you guys?!”

You roll your eyes from where you’re holed up in the conference room, suddenly wishing you had decided to work from home today. The last thing you were in the mood for was listening to your boss brag ad nauseum about his sex life; you’d had the latest of a long string of bad dates last night, and while they’d actually managed to impress you enough to earn the chance to come home with you, they’d proved quickly disappointing.

“In here!” you call out despite your reluctance, your feet kicked up on the table in front of you, and you fold your arms across your chest.

“The fuck is everyone else?” The imp demands as he enters.

“On a Sunday? D’you really think M&M are gonna come in on their day off just to hear you brag about how you fucked the prince again?”

“Well, you’re here, aren’t ya?” he shoots back.

You wave a hand at the stack of papers piled up beside your shoes. “I pulled the short straw on paperwork this month. You’d remember that if you weren’t so busy thinking with your dick all the time.”

He narrows his eyes at you for a moment before shrugging and rounding the table to take his own seat at the head of it. You smack away the spade of his tail as it comes up to caress your cheek mockingly as he passes, and he snickers.

“Guess you’ll have to do, then. You wanna hear the panty-droppin’ play-by-play, or you want me to just tell you the gushiest top ten?”

You sigh heavily. “I’ve got work to do, Blitzø.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you, tail waving back and forth behind him. A downright evil grin plays across his features and he sing-songs, “Ooh, someone’s jealous.”

“Oh, sure,” you reply, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I just sit here all day, pining and completely wet with jealousy because you’re off fucking the owl instead of me. It’s a miracle I wasn’t just getting myself off right here thinking about it.”

Blitzø cocks an eyebrow, his gaze sliding down over your body. It lingers at where your thighs are pressed together, your knees against the edge of the table. He smirks up at you from under his brows when his eyes return to your face. “Hey, tits, don’t let me stop you. You wanna rub one out thinking about Stolas squirmin’ on my thick co—”

“For the love of Satan, please shut up.” you say dryly, and Blitzø cackles. “Besides, if you were half as good as you think you are, you wouldn’t constantly feel the need to tell us about it.”

The imp scoffs, sneering. “Bitch, I’m twice as good as I think I am.” He jabs a finger at you, tossing his sunglasses onto the table in front of him. “You might know that if you ever unwadded your panties from your ass long enough to have some fun.”

“Because ‘fun’ automatically translates to getting naked with you.”

He shrugs a shoulder, that infuriating, knowing smirk still in place. “Don’t have to be naked. Got plenty of things I could do to you without takin’ off a thread, and you’d still be gaggin’ for more. Besides, you’re so hard up and overdue for a good bone sesh that I bet I could get you beggin’ for it just as much as Birdy-boy does in half the time.”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to deadpan despite the way his words have sent heat rushing through your body to warm your belly and your cheeks. Instead, you lower your feet to the floor, pointedly dragging your paperwork across the table towards you. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, boss.”

“Hey!” he jabs his finger at you again, standing up so he can plant a hand on the table and lead towards you. “I don’t come in here and question your skill in the sack!”

“You just told me I was hard up!”

“Yeah, but that ain’t because of your…” he stops, eyes widening. A broad grin widens over his features as realization hits him and you hold back a grimace. “You had a date last night!”

Damnit Millie. “I—”

He pouts at you mockingly, leaning closer to you and further into your personal space. It’s getting harder to avoid his eye. “What’s the matter, sugartits? Did they get your motor runnin’ then fail to deliver all the rough and tumble you wanted? They get you all hot and bothered, all ready to beg for it like a good little slut and then leave you high and completely fucking dry?”

“Stop calling me that,” you snap, pointedly trying to ignore the insinuation. Because fuck the bastard, but he’s right�� and something in his tone is really starting to send a prickling over your skin that leaves goosebumps in its wake.

Blitzø’s smile widens, darkening into something seductive as he moves around to your side of the table. He spins your chair towards him, taking hold of your knees and pressing them far enough apart to step up between them. You feel your face flush further. “Don’t avoid the question.”

You roll your eyes again, hands curling into fists in your lap as he leans ever closer into your personal space. His claws are still wrapped around your knees, and you feel them smooth up your thighs at a glacial pace. “Fuck, Blitzø, you’re such a fucking—”

His mouth meets your roughly, teeth grazing your bottom lip before he slides his tongue into your mouth. It’s hard and angry and hot, and he kisses you with enough force to press you back into the chair and knock the air out of your lungs. His hands are still on your thighs, and you feel his claws tighten on your flesh. Your curse yourself when you hear a whine slip out of you, and even muffled by his mouth, you just know he hears it too.

When he breaks the kiss you inhale sharply, and he only moves back to meet your eye again. His claws skim over the inside of your thighs tauntingly, and even through your jeans, it makes you shudder the closer he gets to the apex of your thighs.

“So,” Blitzø says, and the sudden huskiness to his voice makes you swallow. His tail is switching back and forth behind him, an almost predatory edge to the movement. There’s a challenge in his eyes, and despite everything, it thrills you. “You wanna fuck me or not?”

You exhale a breath in the hopes of steadying yourself. He knows the effect he’s having on you, the cocky bastard. “…You’re gonna be fucking insufferable either way, aren’t you?’

He nods slowly, that irritating, self-assured smile widening slightly.

You sigh, reaching up to take hold of the lapel of his jacket. He snickers as you tug him roughly back towards you.

“You know if you suck, I’m never gonna let you live it down, right?”

Blitzø’s attention has already dropped to your front, his fingers releasing your thighs to instead slowly unbutton your shirt. You shiver as his claws just ghost against your sternum as they move. “You gonna talk this much during?”

“Prick.”

“Bitch.”

 He spreads your shirt open, walking his fingers idly up your stomach. He palms your breast suddenly, grin widening as your breath hitches when he squeezes.

“Seriously, though, might wanna save your breath.” he continues, pinching your nipple hard. He grins when you jerk at the sudden pain. “’Cause you’re gonna need those lungs for all the ways you’re gonna wanna scream my name.”

“Ugh, you’re such a—”

Blitzø’s mouth is on yours again before you can finish the insult, one hand still on your breast. His other hand bunches in your hair, forcing your head back almost painfully. He bites at your bottom lip before his mouth moves lower, teeth and tongue teasing at your throat. His fangs graze your pulse point, and you hiss at the pain of it, feeling blood well up against your skin. His tongue slides over the same spot, and he purrs.

His other hand tugs the cup of your bra down to bare the soft flesh to the cold air and to him, palming it roughly. You arch under his touch, tightening your hand on his lapel and tugging him closer. Blitzø chuckles against your neck, straddling your thigh, and you shove his jacket off his shoulders.

“Shoulda known you’d be an eager little slut,” he mutters against your collarbone and you take his face in your hands, bringing him back into another heady kiss. One hand moves up to flick fingers over the spines between his horns, and he groans into your mouth. “Just like Stolas… you uptight bitches are always—”

“Shut the fuck up, Blitzø,” you snap back at him, taking hold of his horn as his mouth returns to your throat and lower, lips sucking a mark into the curve where your neck meets your collarbone.

He grinds down against your thigh and you thrill at the feeling of his hardening cock against you. When his tongue finds your nipple, you gasp.

“Nope,” he replies simply, annoyingly self-assured, his breath teasing the damp flesh of your breast. Your nipple tightens further under the caress of it. He cups a hand between your thighs, rubbing it roughly against your denim-covered cunt.  He toys with it through your pants for a moment, pulling his hand away as soon as a moan slips past your lips. “Now, get your hot little ass up, slut. Supplies are in my office.”

“The fuck do you need supplies for?!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Holy fuck, Blitzø!” you buck up into his mouth, eyes rolling back.

He’s got you spread out on the desk, your hands bound up with rope and tied to the base of the legs at one end. The length of the rope has forced your hands up over your head, the ache in your biceps completely eclipsed by the sensations between your thighs. Blitzø is kneeling between them, his tail wrapped tightly around one and his hand around the other, your knees thrown over his shoulders. He’s lifted you up off the desk so all your weight is balanced on your shoulder blades, his other hand wrapped around your stomach to reach his claws between your thighs to torture your clit.

His tongue is deep inside your cunt, the sound of his feasting on you the only thing competing with your moaning. Blitzø groans into you, and you swear you can feel his smirk when you try to grind your pussy up against his mouth, hindered by the position he has you in. His tongue finds your g-spot and you whimper brokenly, teeth digging hard into your lip. You can feel your own release dripping down between the cheeks of your ass; you’ve come three times already, and your entire body is shuddering with the stimulation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” you chant through gritted teeth, brow furrowed. Blitzø is watching you from beneath his brows, eyes hooded and his claws tightening on your thigh. You strain against the ropes, the threads of it digging into your wrists, and he grins against your cunt, his tongue pressing against your g-spot just as he pinches your clit. “Oh, fuck!”

You cum again, hips jerking under his touch, desperate to get away from his torturous tongue.

You hate yourself a little for admitting, “Blitzø… I can’t…”

He snickers, flicking his tongue over your clit as he withdraws it. “Aw, c’mon, sugar. Birdy made it all the way to six before he was tapping out and begging for me to finally give him my sweet cock. You can last longer than that, can’t you, slut?”

The spade of his tail slides over your clit, and you twitch. You know he’s goading you but you can’t help but clench your jaw petulantly and nod, and he grins up at you.

“That’s a good girl,” he tells you huskily and you whimper as his breath teases over your swollen clit. He raises a brow. “Ohhh, you liked that, huh? You like being a good girl for daddy.”

You glare up at him even as you feel your face flush with heat.

“You do,” he continues cockily, tongue touching your clit for a moment and you shiver. “You love being daddy’s good little slut, don’t you?”

“If you…” you say breathlessly. “…If you need a breather, Blitzø, you can just say that.”

He snorts, squeezing your ass. “Uh, uh, tits. You wanna another round, I need to hear you say it.”

“Satan, you’re an asshole.”

“Yup,” he replies, ever so slowly circling your clit with his thumb. You exhale shakily. “Now say it. Tell me you’ll be a good little slut.”

You force yourself to heave an impatient sigh, trying to inject as much impatience into your voice as possible. Still, despite your efforts it comes out breathy and shuddering. “I’ll… I’ll be a good slut for you… daddy.”

Blitzø’s grin widens victoriously and he rewards you by returning his tongue to your cunt, and your head falls back against the desk. Your chest heaves as he quickly works you undone again, two fingers pressing into you.

“Alright, alright, don’t embarrass yourself, tits.” he tells you tauntingly.

“Go fuck yourself, Blitzø.”

“Heh.” he chuckles obnoxiously. “Keep talkin’ dirty like that and I might just leave you all trussed up and pretty like this for M&M to find tomorrow morning.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Fuck, you’ve got a slutty little mouth,” Blitzø groans as you swallow around him, choking slightly as the head of his cock brushed the back of your throat. “Satan’s taint, listen to you. You’ve been holdin’ back on me, pretendin’ to be all innocent.”

You’d roll your eyes if he didn’t choose that moment to thrust hard into your mouth, the length of him sliding against your tongue. You curl it obediently around him as he does, and his eyes roll back for a moment.  He’s kneeling between your bound arms, watching with hooded eyes as your throat bulges each time he fucks himself into your mouth. You can barely breath; you find yourself lightheaded even as you suck at his cock eagerly.

You’d just barely made it to eight orgasms without blacking out before he’d finally let up, childishly determined to take more than he’d expected. It had left you sweaty and aching against the desk, and you could still feel a small pool of your own cum against your ass as you’d finally been allowed to relax your hips down against the wood.

Blitzø has claws fisted in your hair, and you whine around him as he reaches down to squeeze your breast, pinch your nipples. Every now and then he lets the spade of his tail brush over your clit, and he snickers when it makes you jerk and gag around him.

“Fuck,” he moans, his hand leaving your nipple to take hold of your throat. He can feel his cock thrusting beneath your skin, and he squeezes, grinning devilishly as you let out a choking moan. “Baby likes being choked, too, huh? You’re just full of surprises, aren’t ya?”

Blitzø plays with you like that for who knows how long, withdrawing his cock from your mouth just long enough for you to pull air into your lungs with a desperate inhale before he presses in again. You’re drooling and whimpering, body quaking against the desk as his tail starts teasing your clit again in earnest.

Your hips buck up under his ministrations, and Blitzø doesn’t stop until you gag in earnest, pulling out and smirking as you cough.

“That’s my girl.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Blitzø’s cock slides into your cunt slowly and you whimper at the feeling of it, eyes squeezed closed.

He’d watched, annoyingly amused, as you’d caught your breath, sitting back on his heels over you. Then he’d surprised you by producing bottled water when he’d untied you.

Still, he’d barely given you more than a minute before he was urging you to roll over onto your knees. He’d wrapped the rope around your thighs before retying your wrists, tightening it until it forced your thighs apart. The way he’d tied you forced you to sit with your back arched slightly, your kiss-bruised breasts on full display as you knelt on the hard wood. You’d normally find yourself embarrassed by the way you were exposed, but the way he watched you, admired you, instead made your mind spin and your heart throb in your chest.

You’d heard his belt buckle clink at he unfastened his pants behind you, surprising you by pressing an almost tender kiss to the side of your throat. His claws ghosted over your inner thigh, making you shiver. “Always knew you’d look good on your knees, baby.”

You’d turned your head as he had, catching him in a kiss that was all tongue and still-desperate need. He’d groaned into it, letting it linger for a few long moments before he finally broke away again. Now, he’s laid out beneath you, his hands clutching at your hips as he lowers you onto his cock. You close your eyes, letting your head fall back as he bottoms out inside you. His pelvic bone brushes against your clit and you whine. Blitzø echoes the sound with a growl.

“Holy shit, sugar,” he grunts, flexing his claws against your flesh. “Holy fucking shit, didn’t know someone could feel this fucking good…”

He urges you into riding him slowly, his claws trailing over the ropes crisscrossing the flesh of your thighs. The way Blitzø watches you grind over his lap sends sparks through you in ways you don’t want to address and your hands strain against the ropes with the sudden urge to touch him.

You want to see how he’ll react to your hands running over his sides, your nails scratching over his nipples. How he’d react to your hands gripping at his horns as you ride him. And you want to kiss him again, you want to trail your lips over his throat and feel his pulse under your tongue.

You want to work him undone that same way he has you.

Blitzø pushes his hips up into yours, hand retaking your hip. His grip is harsh and demanding, claws digging so hard into your flesh you wouldn’t be surprised if it bruised. He’s watching your breasts hungrily as they bounce with every thrust he makes up into you, and the hand still on your thigh moves to tease your clit with his thumb.

“Fuck, Blitzø!” you cry out, voice rough with overuse and need. Your thighs tense, the rope digging further into your flesh. You’re so close to cumming again, and the fact that the ropes are stopping you from taking full control of the pace is driving you mad. “Fuck!”

“Fucking told you you’d be screamin’ my name,” he growls, head falling back against the desk. “Shit, you’re gonna feel so good gushin’ all over my cock, princess.”

You moan aloud, eyes squeezed shut.

“Gonna need to hear you beg for it, remember?” he tells you, his voice breaking slightly and you know he’s close too. He pinches your clit, his tail wrapping itself around your middle. “C’mon… be a good slut and beg…”

You’re almost sure he’s so far gone that all you’d have to do is wait and he’d cum before he got what he wanted, but you need to cum too; you’re so close that your jaw clenches and your toes are curling. So, you give him what he wants. What you both need.

“Please, Blitzø…” you whine, eyes meeting his. “Please, I need to… I wanna feel you cum, Blitzø…”

He moans, claws quickening against your clit. The two of you actually cum together, his hips thrusting hard up into you. You can feel tears in your eyes as your orgasm wash through you, your chest heaving.

The two of you stay frozen like that for a while after he slumps back down against the desk, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You close your eyes, shuddering with each exhale.

Your eyes snap open again as you hear the shutter effect of his phone’s camera.

“The fuck did you just take a picture of?”

He grins lazily up at you, turning his phone so you can see. The photo shows his hips framed by your thighs; your cunt still stuffed full of his cock. Only the base of his cock is visible, his cum drawing lines down it as it leaks out of you.

You jerk your wrists against the ropes, the movement making you whimper as you accidently squeeze your over-sensitized cunt around him. He snickers, the sound breaking off as his eyes roll back at the sensation.

“Delete it, Blitzø.”

He shakes his head. “Are you kidding? You’re pure spank bank, tits.” his smile widens. “Speakin’ of…”

He snaps another photo, this one aimed high to capture the curve of your breasts. There are makes littering the soft flesh, let behind by his teeth and lips, and the spade of his tail has come up to rest its tip against your nipple.

“God, you’re an asshole.”

“Don’t I know it.” he replies nonchalantly. You feel his tail unwind itself from your stomach and he frees your wrists. The rope slackens immediately around your thighs, your legs prickling with pins and needles as blood returns to them. He rubs his hands over the flesh to help the blood flow. “And you fuckin’ love it.”

“‘Love’s a strong word for it,” you reply dryly, massaging one of your wrists with your other hand.

“Yeah, but it’s a four-letter word,” he says, tossing his phone over his shoulder towards his clothes and propping himself up on his elbows. You can feel him softening inside you as he hands you the water bottle. “I don’t even know how many letters are in ‘get all hot and drippy over it’.”

“Twenty-four.” you say almost immediately, taking a sip of water. You offer it to him; you can feel his tail brushing back and forth against your calf. It feels strangely, surprisingly normal to be still straddling his lap, naked and breathless, and you try not to let yourself question it.

“Freak.”

You smile softly to yourself at the fact that he’s managed to try and insult you even as he takes hold of your wrists and uses his thumbs to rub sensation back into them. He doesn’t even really seem to be aware that he’s doing it.

“You know I’m not helping you clean up this mess, right?”

Blitzø snorts, grinning up at you. “What makes you think I wanna clean up? How’s anyone gonna believe you let me rock your fuckin’ world if they don’t see the evidence? And you know I fuckin’ did.”

“Don’t get too cocky about it, Blitzø.” you shoot back. “How d’you know I wasn’t just faking it so I didn’t hurt your feelings.”

“Heh. ‘Cocky.” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Tell what’s left of your voice you were fakin’ it.”

“You’re so—”

Blitzø reaches up to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you down into another fiery kiss. Your back aches as its finally allowed to bend that way again, but you barely register it with the way his tongue feels sliding against yours.

“Sexy? Fuckable?” Blitzø suggests against your mouth. “Ready for round two?”

You giggle despite yourself, letting your forehead bump against his. When you pull away, he’s smiling like he’s pleased with himself for making you laugh. “You might be, but I’m gonna need a minute.”

“Alright,” he tells you, his tail grazing over your thigh. “But I’m countin’.”

[punishedby-love]

Beggin For Thread - BANKS

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