#more than a drabble

[littlesistersti]

More than a Drabble - Dance (ver. 1)

Word count: 163 

(Enough to fit 1 pg of a wide-ruled notebook sheet)

Her languid movements fell into a waltz. A waltz crossed with ballet. She led with her right leg, right foot, right leg, right foot. Her arms bent up slowly, like a caterpillar. With every step, her arms waved. With every spin, her feet stretched. Her body bounced then swayed.

No music played. Not even her internal radio. It wasn't the rhythm inside she listened to. Rather, it was her surroundings. The soft carpet beneath her feet. The barely-there breeze across her arms. The limited walls and furnitures that determined the boundaries of her stage. Besides that, her mind was empty.

She closed her eyes and her movements slowed. The bounces ceased to bobs. The sways ceased to simple leans. Her feet planted firmly to the floor, flat as can be. Her arms dropped her sides.

It was a sloppy finish. None of the grace of a ballerina or elegance of a ballroom (waltzer). If anything, it wasn't a real dance. But that wasn't important.

Image: Chermiti Mohamed https://unsplash.com/photos/person-in-white-long-sleeved-shirt-UT_dPnd8u_M  @chermitovee on Unsplash

[swordymacaroni]

geto who smokes like its his biggest hobby, but you despise it. every time he kisses you, the bitter taste of tobacco leaves you wrinkling your nose and pulling away all too soon. you never say anything about it, but geto can sense your displeasure every time he reaches for a cigarette.

one day, he reaches into his back pocket for a routine smoke, knowing your eyes are trailing his every move. you expect him to shake out a cigarette, but instead he drops the pack to the ground and steps on it, eyes never leaving yours. you open your mouth to say something, but his lips cut off your voice.

he kisses you hard, his fingers tangling in your hair, his teeth pulling at your lips. his mouth moves against yours in such desperation  that you can’t help but gasp. he pulls you against his chest, so close that you don’t know where you end and he begins. he pulls back, violet gaze slipping over your hazed expression.

“i-your cigarettes?”

he runs a thumb over your cheek before he leans down to whisper in your ear. his voice makes you shiver when he says,

“i can only handle one addiction at a time.”

[yanderedrabbles]

Cheat on me please

How to safely rid yourself of a yandere

There's no easy way to get rid of him. He's too obsessive. Too controlling. Too bloody single minded.

You tried talking through it and he just scoffed and said you were being silly. That you were just too hormonal and would calm down in a few days.

You tried going no contact and he showed up at your door. Hammered at it until the neighbours called the cops and they dragged him away.

You tried being nice about it and all he did was grab your wrist so hard it bruised. His eyes like chips of stone when he said he didn't want to hear it.

You weren't breaking up with him. You had no reason to.

And the worst part? He was right. You don't have a reason.

On paper, he's the perfect man. Attentive. Generous. Handsome. He buys you gifts, he lavishes you with attention, he's funny and charming around your friends.

And he scares you.

Not because of anything he's done. (Perfect guy, remember?) But some instinct deep inside you tells you to be careful around him.

This one's a predator, he's got claws and fangs, he'll fill you with venom and never let go, some ancient part of you insists.

But try explaining that to him. He's so mindlessly logical. He's not going to leave you because of a silly gut feeling. Come on baby, what sort of shitty boyfriend would do that?

And that's why you're down to half thought out, borderline silly plans to get rid of him. Get your hot friend to sleep with him. Catch them in the act. Throw a tantrum and finally get to break up with him.

You can't try and excuse cheating. It's abhorrent. And his logical side will surely see that, right?

One little hitch though. He's actually loyal to a fault.

Part of you finds it hard to believe. Is he really turning down your absolute bombshell of a friend? The girl all your exes were just a bit in love with?

Maybe he's just being cautious. Maybe he isn't lonely and needy enough to risk it.

So you up the stakes. Decide to avoid fucking him as much as possible. And oh boy, does it drive him crazy. He gets irritable and needy and somehow even more horny the longer your dry spell lasts.

And you know that you almost have him. He's just a man, no matter how logical he pretends to be.

You pick a fight over nothing. Blow it all out of proportion and storm out to stay with your parents for a while.

Piss him off just enough that a revenge fuck seems like a great idea.

He ends up drinking at a shitty dive bar and oh what a coincidence, your gorgeous seductress friend just happens to turn up. The last text she sends you makes it seem like she's finally hooked him and you hurry over to her apartment, feeling just a little giddy. Your plan actually worked! You feel like a goddamn genius.

And sure enough, his car is parked at her front door.

For a second, you feel a little hurt. Yes, this is the outcome you wanted. Yes, you deliberately manipulated him to get to this point. But it still feels like betrayal.

When you make it to her door, it's oddly silent for a supposed drunken hookup. But you're too geared up to notice it.

She left her door unlocked like you agreed and you tiptoe inside, your heart going a mile a minute. Her bedroom door is cracked just a little and a shaft of light cuts through the dark of the hallway.

You swing the door open with a crash, getting to ready to cuss him out.

And you freeze.

There's no guilty couple leaping away from each other, no smell of sweat and cum, no illicit rendezvous.

Instead your friend is tied to a chair, her mouth taped shut with silvery duct tape and her mascara running in black streaks down her cheeks. Her eyes lock onto yours and she tries to scream something through the tape.

The door clicks shut behind you.

You turn slowly. Like putting it off will make the situation less horrible, less like a dissociative dream.

Your boyfriend looks ragged. His eyes are blood shot and his hair is an unruly mess.

But the worst part is the way he smiles at you. Paternal, almost. Like he's caught you doing something naughty but he's willing to overlook it.

"Come on baby, you didn't think I'd actually cheat on you, did ya?"

His voice is condescending, but under the surface you can hear a cold, terrifying anger.

You swallow. Those same instincts that warned you about him are screaming now.

"What the hell is going on?" You demand, trying to sound angry instead of just afraid.

He steps toward you and it takes everything in you to not step away. He picks up a piece of your hair and rubs it between his fingers. Proprietary, possessive.

"What's going on? You should know babe. You're the one who tried to set me up... As though that skank over there ever stood a chance."

He tsks. "I knew something was wrong the second you stopped sleeping with me."

He leans forward and whispers in your ear, his breath ghosting across your neck.

"I fuck you too good for you to give it up so easy."

You jerk away from him, your eyes burning like you're about to cry. How did this go so wrong?

"Are you insane? Untie her right now! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

He backhands you right across the face.

He's never hit you before and the shock is almost worse than the pain. You stumble, clutching your cheek. Your face feels numb at first and then a sharp, fiery pain blooms across your cheek.

He grabs your collar and shoves you toward the bed.

"Oh baby, you're lucky I love you." His bared teeth catch the light and he looks more wolf than man.

The edge of the mattress digs into your thighs and you fall backward. You're still reeling and he has you pinned under him before you can find the strength to scramble away.

"Thought about killing her, y'know. What kind of whore goes after her best friend's man? You deserve better than that."

His grip is unyielding. A part of you always knew he was strong, but until now you didn't realise how big the gap between you actually was. His knee is between your legs and he brings it up to press against your crotch.

"But then a light bulb must have went off. And I decided to see how things played out."

He laughs and there's nothing warm or welcoming in it at all.

"All I had to do was squeeze her throat a little and..." He grabs your throat and thightens his grip until you see stars. "And she was just fallin' all over herself to tell me about your little plan."

He let's go and pats your cheek with rough little smacks. "It was cute, baby. Really was. But fucking stupid."

He leans down and kisses you. His lips are rough and he bites your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic tang of it makes you gag.

Your instincts were right. He's dangerous and you never should have tempted this monstrous part of him.

He tastes like cheap whiskey and you struggle to pull away. Your chest heaves and no matter how you buck and twist under him, he still keeps you pinned.

When he pulls away, something in your expression must please him because he hums and tilts your chin up. "But it's okay baby. We'll work through this."

He reaches down and tugs at your belt. "And I know exactly where to start."

[k0mmari]

Sword Spirit AU - Xiu Ya (pt.1)

Hello hello! This is going to be a very very casual AU with the first half being dedicated to Xiu Ya(jiuyuan) and the other Xin Mo(bingyuan), so sit tight, relax, and maybe put on some Soul Eater in the background, because this is basically it.

This post is going to be VERY LONG, so sorry in advance ^^;;

It's finally time for Shen Jiu to go to Wan Jian Peak and get his spiritual sword, one of the final steps for his Shizun to finally, oficially, name him Head Disciple, even if the rest of Qing Jing will most likely fight Shizun in her decision.

It would be no surprise, ever since SJ stepped foot there, rumors have been spreading about him, usually about how he only got in so late due to Yue Qi's influence, or how he paid his way in as a young master (as if the rest of the disciples hadn't done exactly that) and thinks he's better than everyone, or how he never fights fair and uses underhanded methods during spars. All rumors don't hold a drop of truth in them of course, but SJ has better things to do than trying to clean his image to a bunch of spoiled brats.

It's not like any of them would believe him, anyways.

In all honesty, he'd rather not be Head Disciple at all, but this is the best way at getting to a secure enough spot that he won't have to worry as much about his safety, even if he will be forced to look after a bunch of children he couldn't care less about. Anyways, SJ's only hope now for something to go marginally right his way is for him to get a good sword.

He gets to the sword wall and, as luck would have it, he feels a pull, calling him to a beautiful sword: elegant, refined and everything SJ desperately hopes he can be.

SJ carefully pulls the sword out of the wall and immediatelly he can feel a connection forming, his slugish qi rushing into the blade and in exchange, a flash of bright, almost refreshing qi runs through him. For a moment his muscles relax as he feels the sword gently humming in his hand.

He walks away from the wall, a few of the other disciples that also had come to retrieve their spiritual sword already holding their own blades, but the only person that SJ cares to show his own sword stands a bit further away. His ever aloof Shizun and... Yue Qi, who was not invited, but decided to come anyways. Great.

YQ wastes no time in praising his sword and how it's a perfect fit for 'Xiao-Jiu' (which only earns him a nasty side-eye), but SJ controls his urge to bite the other boy and focuses on his Shizun. She merely send the sword a glance, unimpressed, and instead says "Disciple Shen has now a spiritual blade of his own. He will get to know his blade, which will aid him with his... cultivation problems, but also raise his cultivation to new heights."

SJ grinds his teeth, not wanting to be reminded about his shitty cultivation, but thankfully, Shizun doesn't dwell on the topic. "When Disciple Shen fully becomes one with his sword, the blade will reward him and show it's true self. It is only then that Disciple Shen will become a truly honorable cultivator."

True... Self? With a subtle glance, SJ confirms even YQ looks a bit surprised, apparently also never haven heard about a swords 'true self', but Shizun doesn't ellaborate any further on it, instead moving on as if she hadn't said anything special, and turning to head back to Qing Jing, uncaring if any other disciples weren't done getting their swords yet.

She unsheathes her own spiritual sword, intending on letting her disciples walk all the way back, but before setting off, she turns towards SJ. "Disciple Shen, the name of your sword."

SJ huffs but brings his sword closer, and reads the engraving on the base of the blade. "...Xiu Ya."

Just as SJ finishes reading the name out loud, the sword starts violently vibrating, catching SJ and his Shizun off guard, and it flings itself off of SJ's hands, flying a short distance before it stabbed the ground.

SJ's hands are left hanging in the air where he once held the sword, frozen stiff in his shock. It certainly doesn't help that is Shizun, who is never phased and now looks visibly shocked, mutters to herself: "I... didn't know a sword could do that."

.........Great.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week after the whole... situation on Wan Jian, SJ is now convinced his spiritual sword hates him.

It just... doesn't do anything he wants it to do! If his Shizun orders him to spar with another disciple with it, Xiu Ya could randomly just fling itself out of his hand, or physically pull him in another direction when he is speaking with another disciple, and no matter how Shizun instructs him to send his qi to the blade, to 'connect' with it, Xiu Ya refuses to cooperate, one day even straight up denying his qi.

Unbeknownst to SJ, his sword is no longer a regular spiritual blade, and actually a host for a recently deceased Shen Yuan, who woke up from his sleep to his new owner pulling him out of the wall and promptly panicked when he heard his name be declared Xiu Ya, which could only mean his new owner was none other than the scum villain himself, SQQ.

It was then and there that SY decided it would be now his life's mission to stop any evil wrongdoings a teenage SQQ must get up to. (It translated to him flinging himself out of SJ's hand any time he felt himself getting too close to another disciple's skin, or vibrating angrily when SJ started to insult someone.)

SJ takes Xiu Ya to his Shizun, and even to Wan Jian's Peak Lord, to check if there's something wrong with his sword, or if he had done soemthing wrong, but both reassure him that the sword is fine, and it must be testing him, urging him to 'clear his heart' to better connect with it.

SJ, feeling like his chance at being Head Disciple is slipping through his fingers the longer he can't get a hold of his own sword, it's supposed to obey him, tends more often than not to... argue with it. It, of course, only creates more rumours about him and his 'cursed sword', but he doesn't have time for this, and he won't let a piece of metal ruin his chances at rising up the ranks.

Everything starts to change one fateful day where everything just seems to go wrong all at once for SJ: His Shizun goes away in a three-day long mission, which leaves him the responsability to look after the peak, and none of the other disciples are willing to make it easy for him, constantly getting in his way, purposefully waisting his time and straight up insulting him to his face.

Yue Qi even tries to grace SJ with his presence, but it takes him no longer than 5 minutes before he manages to say the wrong thing, and it takes even less for it to snowball into SJ expelling him from the peak unless the whole Sect is set on fire. It gets so bad even SY, usually happy to mostly daydream where he sits sheathed at SJ's waist, takes note of it, and gets a bit concerned for the boy.

SY already notices SJ's spiritual veins where all sorts of messed up, but it only becomes relevant when he notices his qi heading straight towards a qi deviation, and no matter how SY tries to vibrate and wiggle, it only seems to upset SJ even further and by the end of the day, as SY suspected, SJ hides away at the bamboo house and falls to the floor, gasping through a qi deviation.

He'd usually just tough his qi deviations out, or pass them at the Warm Red Pavillion, but now he isn't even afforded the mercy of being to suffer alone, as some disciple might come looking for his 'help', and he'd be damned if someone snitched on him to Shizun for not doing his duty as (unnoficial) Head Disciple.

SY, as much as he doesn't really like SJ, for once understands SJ's constant state of frustration when the moment the Peak Lord leaves, his peers treat him like this, and no matter how shitty SJ is- or, rather, may become in the future, SY can't stand being idle as he watches the boy shaking on the floor, gasping in pain.

It's a bit awkward but SY manages to make himself float over towards SJ's trembling body, trying his best to project his own energy outward and reach towards SJ. It's there for only a second, but SY manages to feel a similar connection to when SJ first picked him up, and SY can feel, in a weird flash, the mix of emotions swirling in SJ's soul: his anger, his frustration, but most importantly his deeply rooted sadness, and fear.

It's not really an explanation for why SJ acts the way he does, but SY can understand when a child lashes out in fear when that's all they know. He reaches into SJ's qi, carefully patting it down and soothing it until SJ finally stops trembling and slumps onto the ground, knocked out.

Maybe... Maybe Shen Yuan was in the wrong, and Shen Jiu deserves a second chance.

[strawlessandbraless]

Alexa play Gay Dean

[deikshen]

Now I think of the chronically ill Shen Yuan who has those moments when his body fails and he needs to sit down, drink water and control himself, and his family insists he have a service dog- And it's not that he doesn't find dogs adorable, they are!! But he doesn't have the time or desire to actually take care of a dog! It's a service animal, yes, but Shen Yuan doesn't want pets!

... Then Bingge comes into his life. The emperor, Luo Binghe, who suddenly begins to act like, literally, a service dog.

Sometimes he can't even feel the blood parasites. Sometimes, before Shen Yuan even starts to feel depressed and on the verge of fainting, Binghe can smell it. It's like, he knows something strange is happen- and many times that peculiar smell in the air next to his A-Yuan follows him practically fainting in his arms like a princess. Sometimes it's a complete faint, other times Shen Yuan just loses his strength, other times he just needs to sit down.

Luo Binghe casually comments on this when Shen Yuan says it's strange that he's always there to catch him before he falls. Because before Binghe, Shen Yuan could feel those episodes coming, but sometimes they were too abrupt and fast, and he actually ended up on the floor at least twice a week. And now he always falls into Binghe's arms!

And Luo Binghe might comment to him like: ah, the air around A-Yuan smells different before he fades away.

And Shen Yuan must feel humiliated in this fate thing because he didn't want a service dog!! But look at him now!! Binghe can sense that he is having an episode, he catches it, gives him water, medicine, sometimes injections if he really needs it. What was this?! A service boyfriend!? Even worse!!

... Well, Shen Yuan won't complain too much. Eh. At least Binghe can feed himself (and buy and get his own food and cook the best delicacies Shen Yuan ever tasted), and he doesn't have to take him out for walks every day... although if he buy him some, ahem, toys and collars in which Binghe has shown interest.

That... That's better than he expected. And, well, maybe his Binghe is like a huge puppy sometimes, but still!!!

[mattsundaes]

born to write porn on tumblr dot com forced to be too tired to function after work every night.

[soulsforsales]

Jason Todd is not a soft man; he has never been. Not before his death and resurrection, and certainly not after. Even before he was Robin, he was surviving Crime Alley, surviving the grim realities of the world he later tried to fix in that costume - the same costume he died in, and the story after that needs no retelling.

But what's so clearly obvious is that Jason Todd is rough with his hoarse voice and intimidating scowl. He's all crooked smirks and sharp glares, calloused fingers, and bloodied knuckles. He learned to fight since day one but he forgot to learn to stop.

Or maybe he did. Maybe he did learn to stop, and maybe he did want to stop, but he never could. Life was never so kind to him.

That is, until he met you.

He tends to deny it when his brothers point out the way he looks at you when you aren't looking but his frowns have turned into smiles that finally reach his eyes

Jason doesn't want to admit it. He doesn't want to accept the way his chest constricts with a mix of relief and nausea when you bury your face in the crook of his neck like you are unable to see the monster he is like you can easily see past the horrible things he has done.

Jason never thought he could feel the soft, bubbly feeling that rises in his stomach when you tell him he's yours and you are his.

Jason never imagined he could love, let alone be loved back. But it was a Tuesday afternoon, and you were in his kitchen, wearing his clothes that swallowed you whole. He doesn't even remember what you were saying because you turned and the sunlight from the window hit your face, making you look like an angel and as if that wasn't enough you smiled at him - you smiled at him like he was the most precious thing in the world and that's when Jason knew. He knew because there were moments he could swear he didn't feel his heart but back then, it was beating so damn hard.

So, yes, Jason Todd is not a soft man but for you, he is. For you, he is whatever you want him to be.

[rottenaero]

Eddie makes it out of the upside down miraculously still living. They get out through Fred’s gate and Nancy drives the winnebago while Steve patches him up in the back with a medkit from Warzone.

He thinks he cleaned and wrapped his stomach pretty good, but when he lifts the guy up, the spot his head was at on the couch has blood, and Steve blinks,

“ Dustin, can you see if they have a hair clipper in the bathroom?”

Eddie squints, delirious from the blood loss. “ For what, Harrington?”

“ Must’ve hit your head on a rock… You’ll be okay man we fix it up. If not they have bandage scissors that we can use to chop it off.” Steve’s muttering, and Dustin rushes back into the room, handing him the object.

“ For what- what’re you doing?” He can barely see, his visions fading but the hair clippers turn on and he hisses. “ Do not fucking touch my hair, I swear to God, Steve-“

Except he blacks out before he finishes that sentence.

He wakes up in a room that’s covered in yellow plaid, and Dustins at his side in a second.

He blinks, grins. “ Henderson, hey, uh, where are we?”

He feels a breeze, his head chills and he remembers what happened before he blacked out. His stomach drops and he lifts a hand to his scalp.

Dustin’s already kicked off explanation as soon as he touches the buzzcut. “ You would’ve died if Steve hadn’t cut it, the hit to it was bad. I know it’s part of the whole look but it’ll grow back-“

“ Henderson.”

“-It only takes awhile, I mean, I don’t know how long for you-“

“ Henderson.”

“-but Steve did his in solidarity, and he said his hair grows pretty fast-“

“ Henderson!- Wait. What?”

The door to the room creaks open, and one Steve Harrington walks in, with a buzz that reminds Eddie of his 8th grade self. “ Oh hey man! You’re awake!”

He turns to Dustin, glaring. “ You fucking let him? Jesus Christ they don’t call him ‘ The Hair’ because he has a good ass!”

“ You think I have a good ass?”

[rainynightwrites]

˗ˏˋ turn me on ˎˊ˗

cw: 18+ content mdni. fem!reader. semi public sex. sylus calls reader kitten/sweetie several times. fingering. p in v. unprotected sex. choking. sylus being a tease. sylus degrading reader. sylus also praising reader. overstim. creampie. established relationship. this happens on sylus’ motorcycle. not proofread. ᯓᡣ𐭩

wc: 2.0k

sylus had taken you out to dinner for a little date night. on your way back to his place he took you up to the rooftop of one of the decrepit buildings on the outskirts of the n109 zone. sylus was leaning against his motorcycle as you stood near the ledge looking over the city. it was a strange mix of eerie silence, yet random ruckus of other vehicles and arguments between people below filled your ears.

despite the fact that the n109 zone was a lawless wasteland, you felt at peace here for some reason. you’ve chalked it up to being near sylus. i mean, how could you not feel safe around him? you watched a room full of men shoot at sylus, in an attempt to kill him, and he handled all of them without even breaking a sweat.

and he looked really fucking hot while doing it— but that is besides the point.

you turned around towards sylus, walking back to him. murmuring how you were ready to go back to his place. he stood up straight and put his hands on your hips pulling you closer, his eyes gleaming, “or, we could stay here a little longer. it’s just us up here, sweetie.” you knew that tone, you knew the look in his eyes, and yes, you could feel that he was more than half hard in his pants right now.

“sylus! we are out in public, this isn’t- we shouldn’t.” you knew better, anybody could see, literally. plus it’s the n109 zone, this wasn’t the safest place to do something like this.

“why not, kitten? i can fight, and anyways mephisto would let us know if someone were coming.” those damn red eyes, you truly never understood how you were able to focus when sylus stared at you so intently. “but it’s up to you, if you aren’t comfortable we can just go back to my place...”

sylus’ words faded away. you felt guilty for some reason, something twisted in your stomach, and you knew you were about to give in. your gaze drifted to his motorcycle behind him.

when you’d originally fantasized about sylus fucking you over his motorcycle, it didn’t include being on a damn rooftop. you thought it’d be in the garage of his place, safe from potential prying eyes.

you looked up at sylus, biting your lip as you nodded your head slowly. sylus moved in on you instantly, his big hands grabbing you by the backs of your thighs and plopping you down onto the seat of his motorcycle. “mhh, i thought so. such a good girl for me aren’t you, sweetie?”

throughout your relationship with sylus you learned that he is a switch. he had times where he just wanted you to use him for your pleasure, then he had times where he wanted to completely dominate you until you were nothing but a mindless, cock drunk slut. and tonight was definitely the latter.

“y-yeah, your good girl…” your words were soft. your breathing becoming more and more erratic by the second. sylus had already begun positioning you the way he wanted. bastard, he must’ve anticipated that you’d agree to such an act.

sylus draped your left leg over one of the handlebars on his motorcycle, then he grabbed your right leg and held it up against his body. he kissed the exposed skin above your ankle. sylus diligently moved your skirt out of the way with one hand. his other hand was inching up your stomach, starting an ascent up your body. his hand continued to move up your body, grazing your breasts ever so gently.

sylus was a master at stimulating you, maybe a little too good at it sometimes, especially when you plummeted into a cloudy headspace of need and desire. you’d been so distracted by watching him kiss your ankle and feeling him pinch your nipples through your shirt and bra that you’d completely forgotten his other hand working between your legs. you hadn’t even felt him move your panties to the side.

sylus’ red eyes bore into you and he slid one finger between your folds. “kitten,” it sounded so chastising. “i barely even touched you and you’re fucking soaked. that’s a little pathetic, don’t you think?”

“i can’t help it!” you protested, but when his finger swiped through your folds again and then drew a tight circle over your clit you nearly broke right then. your moan filled the stagnant air around you. he hummed like he was amused, you could feel a smirk forming on his lips as he placed another kiss higher up your calf this time, causing you to bend your leg awkwardly.

“i think, you just couldn’t wait to have me, could you, sweetie?” sylus punctuated his question by sliding his middle finger into your cunt and lazily tracing your clit with his thumb. his eyes never left your face, he watched every. single. reaction he drew from you. “oh come on, you’re always so brave. you love to talk back. why aren’t you doing it now?”

this wasn’t fair. at all. your lips started to form a soft pout but sylus put a quick end to that when he grazed your g-spot. your head dropped back as he effectively pulled another moan from your gorgeous lips.

you were already starting to fall into that cloudy headspace when you felt sylus draw a line with his tongue up your calf. and if that wasn’t bad enough the hand that had been playing with your nipples had now found it’s way around your neck. it was all a heady combination that sylus knew exactly how to exploit for the sounds and reactions he wanted from you.

“sylus!” his name rolled off your tongue in a high pitched whine. you hadn’t even realized how quickly your body was hurtling towards an orgasm.

sylus tightened his grip around your neck before plunging another finger inside you. “i can feel you clenching around my fingers, kitten. it’s so easy for me to wind you up, but fuck you are so beautiful this way. so desperate. i bet you can’t wait for my cock.”

your world narrowed, you could feel your pulse racing under sylus’ hand. the sounds he was pulling from you were obscene at this point. and it wasn’t just the sounds coming from your mouth, no, you were quite literally dripping. through half-lidded eyes you watched sylus finally break eye contact with you in favor of watching his fingers disappear into your soaked warmth.

just as you were about to cum he pulled his fingers from your core, studying the two fingers that had been buried inside you. they glistened in the low lighting on the rooftop.

“sylus! no, please. i was so close, i-“ your babbling was cut off by hazily watching sylus bring his fingers to his mouth and suck your arousal off them. his eyes slid closed as he savored your flavor.

“shh, just be patient. i enjoy seeing you so worked up for me. does it feel like your nerve endings are blazing yet?” he let go of your throat, tracing his fingers softly down one of your arms. his eyes were all but glowing in the night, it was distracting and mesmerizing— he looked at you like you were special. that made your stomach flip in a good way.

you couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, but yes, you felt like your entire body was on fire. every touch, every little graze had your body acting as if it were a live wire ready to snap.

sylus unbuttoned his pants, and pulled his cock out in one smooth motion. you watched him stroke himself once, twice. you licked your lips as you saw the precum seeping from the slit. his cock was…for lack of better terms, perfect. a perfect length, a perfect girth, the perfect amount of curve. it hit the spot every time it was inside you.

sylus didn’t give you much time to process his actions though, he dragged the fat head of his cock through your warm, wet folds and then buried himself inside you in one quick thrust.

“oh my god.” you somehow managed to choke out between a moan. sylus laughed as he watched your eyes roll back when he pushed himself fully into your cunt. “sweetie, there’s not a single god or deity that’s gonna come and save a cock drunk, needy little slut such as yourself.”

your walls clenched around his cock immediately. something about his unhinged words made you feel strange, yet even more turned on than you already were. you were panting at this point, a constant string of whines and moans falling from your lips.

you’ve come to terms with the fact that sylus was is just that good at sex. it almost concerned you that he’d managed to reduce you to such a state with only his hands so quick before even fucking you. you’ve fallen apart at his hands and mouth— cock too, so many times you’ve lost count. it’s easy for you to lose yourself in him, with him.

“what a pretty girl for me, such a beautiful thing to see you this way, all for me, only me.” sylus mused as he thrust into you at a relentless pace that had you seeing stars. sure, you liked being degraded by sylus, but the praise— oh, how you thrived on it.

sylus slid one hand between your bodies until his thumb found your clit again, he lazily drew right circles before leaning forward causing your knees to hit your shoulders. he easily folded you in half while you were sat on his motorcycle, you weren’t sure how it was still upright. you were more concerned with the fact that the new angle allowed sylus’ cock deeper into your velvety walls.

“sy-sylus! fuck, i’m close!” “it’s okay, you let go whenever you need to, darling. sing for me.” sylus leaned forward more until his lips pressed against yours. you immediately threaded your fingers through his silvery hair, melting into the kiss with zero hesitation. the kiss itself was messy, all teeth and tongues. all your moans and whines became muffled by his mouth.

his cock dragged along your inner walls with such precision. he hit your g-spot with every thrust. the head of his cock grazing your cervix, that alone sent a spark through body. two, three, four more thrusts later and your walls were squeezing his cock so tightly, the velvet heat of your cunt rippling as you came undone for him.

“good girl, such a good fucking girl coming on my cock like that. do you have any idea how beautiful you sound when you let go?” sylus didn’t slow, your euphoric orgasm quickly turning to overstimulation. your eyes welling with tears as you gasped and whined. writhing slightly beneath sylus. the motorcycle didn’t allow for much movement though.

“almost there, just- mmpfh. just a little longer, i promise. you’re doing so well, taking everything so well.” sylus’ fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he chased his release. your body began to tremble from the continuing stimulation. your walls becoming so sensitive.

sylus buried himself fully inside your cunt, and he stilled above you. his breath coming out in warm huffs. occasional soft grunts filled your ears. warm ropes of his cum painted your inner walls. sylus pressed his forehead against yours, not daring to pull out just yet.

“thank you, kitten,” sylus wiped the tears that had collected on your lashes away and pressed soft kisses around your face; on your cheeks, your chin, your lips, your nose, and your forehead. his eyes softer now, and he didn’t want to let you go. you were precious to him, you both knew it.

while what you just did was a little crazy and risky, you couldn’t help but be happy that your date night ended this way. however, you suspected that when you and sylus were able to move and make it back to his place, neither of you would be getting much sleep tonight.

⊹₊⟡⋆ thanks for reading. ⊹₊⟡⋆

tags: @honeyandlore @nanami1slut

© rainynightwrites 2025. please do not copy/repost elsewhere, translate or claim any of my writing.

[littlesistersti]

More than a Drabble - Dance (ver. 2)

Word count: 151

(Enough to fit 1 pg of a wide-ruled notebook sheet)

Ver 1 here

Her languid movements fell into a waltz. A waltz that crossed over with ballet. She led with her right leg. Right foot. Repeat. Her arms arched up slowly, like a caterpillar. With every step, her arms meandered. With every spin, her feet stretched. Her body bounced. Swayed.

No music played. Not even her internal radio. It wasn't the rhythm inside she listened to. Rather, it was her surroundings. The soft carpet beneath her feet. The barely-there breeze across her arms. The walls and furniture that outlined her stage. Besides that, her mind was devoid of any troubling matter.

Her eyes closed; her movements slowed. The bounces ceased to bobs. The sways ceased to wobbles. Her feet planted firmly to the floor. Her arms dropped her sides.

She didn’t finish with the grace of a ballerina or elegance of a waltzer. If anything, it wasn't a real dance. However, that wasn't important.

Image: Talles Alvez @deffyall​​ Unsplash https://unsplash.com/photos/woman-spreading-lifting-her-leg-white-standing-b3H3_k1sPxI 

[jinkoh]

pressure points

yunho x fem!reader

summary: your physical therapy is getting very physical

tags: physiotherapist!yunho, smut (mdni), reader is painfully horny (especially for yunho's hands), tension, kissing, teasing, fingering; feat. woosan as your bffs

wc: 3.2k

a/n: started writing this back when i went to physiotherapy--but i swear it's only partially inspired by real occurrences, my therapist was very professional

masterlist

Usually, your weekly meet ups with your best friends—or girls’ night as Wooyoung liked to call it, even when you were the only one who technically qualified—were your sanctuary, your safe space, your chance to decompress after a stressful week at work. But usually your non-existent sex life wasn’t the topic of the night, nor were you interrogated over your relationship to your new physiotherapist. You were quickly starting to regret ever mentioning him or his big hands or cheeky smile or— 

“I know I'm barely one to talk,” Wooyoung said, clearly amused over the whole situation and not at all willing to change topic, “but you’re like pathetically horny.”

“No, listen,” you started, pointing at him with the pretzel stick you’d been nibbling on. “Yunho just has—”

“Yunho?” Wooyoung snorted, “You’re on first name basis with your physiotherapist?”

“Don’t make it weird, that’s just their policy and it makes it more comfortable too.”

“Mhm, right. Except you’re maybe getting a little too comfortable.”

Before you could retort, San let himself plop onto the empty chair at your table. “What did I miss?” He asked casually while scanning the drinks menu (as if he didn’t already know his order).

“Nothing much,” Wooyoung replied, “I'm getting a promotion and y/n wants to fuck her physiotherapist.”

“Woo!”

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “What, it’s true.”

“It’s not! He just—it’s not my fault that he touched my hips like that!”

“Y/n, honey, he was showing you an exercise.”

“Well, yeah, but his hands are just kinda sexy and—” you trailed off when you saw San pulling a face. “What?”

San shook his head with a sigh, “Girl, you want to fuck him so bad.”

Maybe your friends had a point, because despite your tiring work day and the way your joints were aching with exhaustion, you found yourself feeling giddy for your next appointment with Yunho. The only thing putting a damper on your mood was that after today you only had one more session left, when really you wished you could keep going forever. 

The clinic was rather quiet and the lights in the back were already off—you always had the last time slot of the day and you rarely met other patrons when you came in. Today was no different, the only people you could spot were Yunho and one of his colleagues.

“Hey,” Yunho greeted you with a soft smile, briefly looking up before focusing back on where he seemed to be typing something into the computer behind the counter, “On time as always.”

“Of course,” you replied with a smile, feeling your cheeks heat up for literally no reason at all. 

“Very commendable,” he grinned and then his eyes darted up to you once more, almost as if he was accessing you, “You can already get into room 2, I’m with you in a second,” he nodded towards a door before turning to his colleague, “Mingi, can you look this over for me?”

“Sure, no problem,” the other man replied, hovering over the screen of the computer too. Your gaze lingered on the scene a second longer, taking in how Yunho adjusted the glasses sitting on his nose, but when he looked up, meeting your gaze in a question, you quickly hurried into the room he’d pointed at. It was a smaller one than usual; the mirror, yoga mats and other equipment you were used to replaced by a massage table that you awkwardly sat down on while you waited. It only took another one or two minutes for Yunho to appear in the doorframe.

“You were looking kind of tired, so I thought it’s a good idea to do something more relaxing today,” he said as he walked in, closing the door behind him. He had your files in his hand, scribbling something down before leaving the clipboard on the little shelf in the corner, “But remember you still have to do the exercises at home though. And no slouching.”

“Aye, Sir,” you replied with a playful salute that got frozen mid-air when he met your gaze with a smile and a cheeky “Good girl.” Good. Girl. How the fuck were you supposed to survive this?

“Alright,” he continued, all professional, as if he hadn’t just hit you out of left field with his comment, “we’ll loosen up your muscles a bit, in the neck and upper back area, since that’s where you’re having the most trouble. Please lay down on your stomach with your head on this side,” he briefly tapped the head rest, “and it’d be good if you removed your top so I have access to your back—I can go out for a second if you prefer.”

You knew there were no hidden motives there, after all he was a professional and this was his job. But the thought of undressing in front of the guy you’d been having somewhat inappropriate thoughts of was still making your heart race.

“Uhm, no, it’s okay,” you stuttered, turning your upper body away from him as you slipped out of your shirt, holding the fabric close to your chest. “B—my bra too?”

“No, it’s okay, we can just—” he reached out and you felt his fingers gently brush your skin as he pushed the straps of your bra down your shoulders, “move them out of the way like this.” His touch left goosebumps in its wake and maybe it was your wishful thinking, but you thought his fingers lingered a second longer than necessary. Then he pulled away though, clearing his throat and stepping aside so you had enough space to lie down. He took a seat on a little rolling chair at the top of the table and you could see his legs through the hole of the headrest.

His hands felt warm and soft as he smoothed them over your upper back a few times before he started rubbing out the sore spots in your neck. You felt the way the tension was seeping out of you, making you feel relaxed and at ease. At least until he spoke up again with his sweet honey voice.

“It’s okay if it hurts a little, but if you’re in so much pain that you want to scream, do tell me. We don’t want that.” He let his hands move to your left shoulder blade, finding one of your pressure points, “For it to hurt that badly, I mean. I don’t mind if you scream.” He chuckled and you huffed out a laugh as well while your cheeks were heating up for nth time that day. It was a good thing he couldn’t see your face right now. “Uh, yeah, I’ll let you know," you replied but all you could think about was him making you scream. Your silly brain couldn't help but wonder if he liked a vocal partner. 

Yunho seemed blissfully unaware of your inner tumult, rubbing out the knots in your back completely unbothered. “This still okay?” He asked as he moved to another point and you felt yourself gasp a little at the initial pain. It wasn’t exactly a bad pain though. Something about the light sting was almost pleasurable.

“Still okay,” you assured and he hummed in affirmation as his fingers kept moving. He was skilled and precise in his ministrations, and you knew he had to be, with this being his literal job, but the thought that perhaps his fingers were skillful in other places too wouldn’t leave your mind for the rest of the massage. 

It was over too quickly for your liking, ended by him gently moving the straps of your bra back up your shoulders. “Alright,” he said, scooting away from the table to give you some space, “That’s it for today.”

“Thanks, I really needed that,” you mumbled as you sat up, just to immediately regret your words. You sounded like a pathetic, touch starved horndog. 

“Mhm,” he hummed and you couldn’t read his expression as he took a note in your files, “I could see that.”

“So, what if I do want to fuck him?”

Wooyoung let out a giggle, “Finally admitting to it, huh?”

“Just go for it,” San advised, “It’s gonna be your last appointment anyway.” 

That was a reminder you really didn’t want to hear, so you quickly shoved the thought aside in favor of more pressing questions.. “But what’s that supposed to mean? How would I even go for it?”

“Well, do it the way you normally would,” Wooyoung said matter of factly, “You know how to flirt, right?”

“I—I don’t. Not like that. I never really tried to get into anyone’s pants before,” you admitted.

San raised an eyebrow, “So you just had people coming at you without even trying? What a flexer.”

“Don’t tease me, Sannie, you know it’s not like that. It’s just that there’s usually dating involved. I’ve never slept with anyone I wasn’t at least casually dating.”

“Date him then,” San simply replied but Wooyoung shook his head. “Way too time consuming. She wants a quick fix, not a slow-burn romance. Take this as a learning opportunity, y/nnie.”

“Well, then teach me! What do I do?”

“Oh? Teach me?” San said with a smirk, “That’s kinda hot.”

“I gotta agree, but we’re getting off topic here.” Wooyoung fished a pretzel stick out of the glass on the table and took a bite of it before he continued, “So, the important thing is to show him you’re interested. But don’t make it romantic, you don't want a coffee invite."

"Actually I wouldn't mind a coffee—"

"Yeah, and you can have your coffee—after taking care of how fucking pent-up you are." He let the rest of his pretzel stick disappear into his mouth, still chewing as he continued, "He’s your physiotherapist, there’s gotta be plenty of chances for him to get his hands on you. Just subtly let him know you really like it.”

“Yeah,” San agreed, before coming back to his initial advice: “Just go for it.”

For your last appointment he sent you to room number 4, the one with the mirror and the yoga mats and other equipment that you knew all too well. After last week's session you found yourself filled with disappointment. For a moment you stood in the doorway, until Yunho came over, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Not going in?”

San’s words were ringing in your head: Just go for it. Wooyoung’s advice on subtlety must have gotten lost on you though, but who was Wooyoung to give that advice anyway?

“Uhm, I was thinking—you know I’m feeling kind of tired today…” You trailed off, your eyes darting over to room number 2, where the ajar door revealed the massage table.

He met your words with a chuckle. “Are you saying you want a massage for our last appointment? Did you like it that much?”

“It just seemed to really help with my sore spots…”

“Hmm,” he hummed, his arms crossed in front of his body thoughtfully, “I do think we should go through the exercises I taught you at least once—to make sure you remember them correctly and can do them at home. Don’t want you coming back here in another three weeks.”

“You don’t want me to come back?”

Yunho’s eyes widened for a moment there before he let out a chuckle, “Not if it means you’re in pain again.”

“Didn’t you say it’s okay if it hurts a little?”

He shook his head in disbelief, “I feel like I’m not getting anywhere here, so let’s make a compromise—first a quick run down of the exercises and then for the remaining time you can get on the table for me, hm?”

Get on the table for me. You tried not to think anything of the words he’d chosen, tried not to let your brain warp them until they held a different meaning altogether, but it was hopeless. The worst part was, that you couldn’t help feeling like he was doing this on purpose, reveling in the way your gaze turned feverish and your cheeks flushed red with heat.

The quick run down was almost agonizing. He did keep his promise to make it short, but every time he stepped into your personal space to fix your posture, you felt your skin tingling with anticipation and need. When you finally, finally went over to room 2, you were more than ready to skip the massage and go for other activities instead. You pulled yourself together though, and did not jump him the moment he closed the door. Instead, you took off your shirt and laid down on the table like last time. Yunho sat at the head end once more, working his magic on your neck and shoulders. When he moved his hands a little further down your back, they briefly got caught on your bra.

“Sorry about that,” he said, his voice calm and smooth.

You bit your lower lip. This seemed like a pretty good chance, didn’t it?

“You can take it off, if you want to. I don’t mind.”

He halted for a moment, and maybe if you could see his face you’d be able to read his expression, but with your eyes facing the floor you were stuck wondering what he was thinking.

“Are you sure?” Yunho asked after a moment and there was something in his voice that made it feel like his question wasn’t just about the massage.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

It only took a second for him to unhook your bra, the fabric falling to the side of your body. His fingers seemed to trace the place where it’d sat, maybe following the light imprints it’d left behind. 

“You have pretty skin,” he said eventually, his voice just a whisper.

“Yeah?” Your heart was racing in your chest with nerves and anticipation of what could possibly happen.

“Yeah,” his index finger gently wandered over your spine, “It feels nice to touch.”

“It feels nice when you touch me, too.”

He hesitated for a moment and the brief silence was killing you. “I could do it more,” he finally said.

“I’d like that.”

“Turn around for me?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice, you immediately turned to lay on your back, losing your bra along the way. The moment you were facing up, he leaned down, crashing his lips into yours. The angle was kind of awkward with the way you were technically upside down from his point of view, but neither of you seemed to really care as you devoured each other in a kiss you’d been anticipating for weeks.

When he eventually pulled away, both of you breathless, there was a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Isn’t this kind of like spiderman?” he asked and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I didn’t know my hot physiotherapist was a nerd.”

“So, I’m hot?”

You rolled your eyes before your hand reached out to pull him close again, “Aren’t we kinda past that?”

“Right,” he grinned into your lips, “I guess so.”

He kissed you again before he pulled away to get up from his chair, the angle too awkward to really touch, and he was dying to get his hands all over you. You sat up on the table, letting your legs dangle off one side, and he swiftly moved to stand between them, caging you in with his hands  on either side of your hips. 

“We’re the only ones here, right?” you asked, just to make sure.

“Yeah,” he pecked the corner of your mouth before kissing his way to your jaw and then down to your collar bone, “Mingi left a while ago and the cleaning staff only comes in the morning.”

“Good,” you leaned back and tilted your neck to give him more access, reveling in the feeling of his teeth grazing your skin. 

His hands moved to your body, one of them keeping you steady as the other tugged at the hem of your jeans. “Can we take this off?”

You nodded a little too quickly, your hands immediately flying to the button to help him undo it. 

“So eager,” he commented with that smug smile of his before he helped you drag the pants off your legs, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He let his thumb lightly rub over the thin and embarrassingly wet fabric, smile growing wider as you let out a little whimper. “Why do I feel like you haven’t been focusing on treatment at all and were instead thinking of—” he flicked his thumb over your clothed clit, “something else?”

“I couldn’t help it,” you whimpered, “not my fault your hands are—like that.”

He cocked an eyebrow, “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” you whimpered once more when his long fingers started to run over your folds, pushing aside your panties to touch you directly, “sexy.”

“They are sexy? Like, when I fix your posture? Or give you a massage?,” he asked, leaving more bites and kisses on your neck, “Or when I do this?” He slipped one of his fingers into you without warning, making you gasp in surprise.

“Yeah,” you pressed out, your mind starting to lose focus as he was moving inside of you, “it’s sexy.”

“That’s good to hear,” he whispered into your skin before adding a second digit and curling them inside of you. You arched off the table at the sensation of it, your body instinctively trying to get away from the intense feeling, but his other hand on your hip kept you in place. He gradually increased his pace, his fingers mercilessly abusing the sensitive spots inside of you and you were already feeling like you were losing your mind. When he moved his thumb back to your clit, applying just the right kind of pressure, you snapped almost immediately, your high washing over you in a sudden and intense wave. Yunho wasn’t letting up quite yet though, still working his skillful hands and prolonging your orgasm until the over sensitivity made you whine. When he finally pulled away, he looked at his fingers for a moment, admiring your glistening juices on them before he licked them clean one by one.

“That was nice,” he said with a smile, as if you had just done him a service and not the other way round. Still, you agreed with a hazy nod. 

He pulled your panties back into place before leaning in for a kiss. “How about I take you out for a coffee sometime?”

“So, uh, what if I don’t want to just fuck him?”

“Weren’t we over this?” Wooyoung took a sip of his beer, before your words really registered, “Wait, are you saying you have feelings for him?!”

“I—I don’t know, he’s just—” you dropped your face onto the table with a sigh, “he’s just so charming.”

"See?" San said with a triumphant grin, "So much for a quick fix."

“Well, then I hope you at least got his number.”

Now a smile spread on your lips, too, “I even got that coffee invite.”

masterlist | pls consider reblogging if you enjoyed this~

[angelkiyo]

✧˖°— the music was too loud and the lights were too dim. the alcohol burned going down—but not nearly as much as the way tobio kageyama looked at you that night. it burned like salt added to a wound.

it happened after a game. celebration after the last win of the season. as the assistant manager of the schweiden adlers, of course you were invited. however, somewhere between the rooftop bar and the suite, between shots and laughter, he kissed you.

no, that bastard didn’t just kiss you—

he held your face like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it.

that was the main catalyst to your current situation; sitting on top of the bone porcelain sink and practically hanging onto the star setter for dear life. you felt your body shake in every thrust, his cock sliding easily in and out of you from your slick. the mirror behind you fogged up and the things on the sink itself were on the floor in an act of pure restlessness.

you pressed your forehead to his and whispered, “this isn’t a mistake, right?”— but it was. an assistant manager and the star player? the damn tabloids would have a field day.

tobio let out a primal, low grunt, vocal fry and breathlessness laced in his whispered words. “no, i’ve wanted this for so long.”

the stolen touches, quick glances across the room, prolong stares before he hits a perfect serve. now here you were, skin to skin in the most literal sense.

your body was pulled towards his own, perky breasts pushed up against his toned chest and face hid in the crook of his neck. you felt tobio hold you tightly as your body slightly bounced with the same vigor as his thrusts. his thrusts became languid and you felt his veiny cock twitch inside you.

“s-shit tobio!” you gasped. you looked at his face; his cheeks all flushed, eyes hooded, and his hair a mess. a small part of your chest tightened at the sight, so vulnerable and so abnormal. tobio kageyama, who was usually out together, all unraveled before you.

which is why you knew this would be the only time you’d be like this, as you were back to strangers the next day.

[heavenbarnes]

@abcdbleh you little beauty 🫶🏼 this is in the “cellular-device-universe” | p1 p2 p3 p4

you had managed an incredible feat, what with bringing your older bf!simon around to the idea of sex over the air waves.

you’d effectively achieved the impossible.

well, something you’d thought impossible given who he was as a person. some guy, simple guy, practical and not remotely interested in anything he doesn’t think worth his time.

that’s the thing- when it comes to you?

everything is worth his time.

you could tell him that you’d booked an all expenses paid couples trip to the fucking moon and he’d have your bags in the car before you’d even finished speaking.

he likes that look on your face when you’re happy.

you’d imagined that getting him to send you videos whilst he stroked his cock would be difficult, but now your hidden folder is bursting at the seams.

you had no idea how easy it’d be to have him send you photos in just his briefs, tattooed arm barely illuminated by low light as his large hand gripped himself through the fabric.

but here you were.

laid back in your bed, awfully roomy without a hulking great simon to take up three quarters of it, your phone was pressed to your ear.

“what y’mean, love?”

the deep, rolling rumble of his voice would probably do it if you tried hard enough. you could have him read the menu from the local chinese takeout and make do. he just had that effect on you.

“i mean- i want you to touch yourself and talk me through it, si”

you could hear the way his breath caught in his throat, a stuttered little exhale and a crackle over the line. he was in the middle of nowhere (far as you were concerned) but he could still find it to keep you satisfied.

simon would never have you settle for less.

the quiet you could hear on his end wasn’t nerves, you knew him well enough to immediately detect- inexperience?

there was very little simon didn’t know how to do in the bedroom but bring any virtual factors (like a cellphone) and he just needed a couple directions.

he needed an order.

“si, i want to get off to your voice, the sound of you touching yourself- i want you to cum and i want to hear about it in excruciating detail”

you could hear how scratchy his military grade blanket was, woollen and likely older than you, being pushed down his body.

no shuffle of clothing, he was already stark naked in his cot. he’d been with rest of the 141 long enough, you just assume they’ve all seen each other in their entireties. sharing rooms, sharing showers.

you can’t think about that kind of thing too long. the implications that come with it.

the sound of simon spitting in his palm drags you out of steam filled visions, kyle asking your boyfriend for help getting his back, johnny watching wide-eyed but waiting for his signal.

anyway- anyways, the sound of his large palm dragging along his cock had you back in the present for good. you could almost picture the way his foreskin would be rolling down the head.

“already s’fuckin hard for you”

“i bet”

a bet that’d make you a billionaire.

you could count on simon for a lot of things but as sure as the sun rises in the east, that man would be hard for you.

you’d say a gentle breeze would do it. he’d say only if you were blowing.

cheek of him.

faint sounds, faint sounds of his hand tugging on himself but you needed more. you needed it fucking filthy and unmistakable across the line that he was doing one thing.

“more spit, si- need to hear it”

and you could, spit mixed with the leaking pre-cum that was running from his head. soon the sound was circling your eardrums as he worked up a steady rhythm.

“been lookin’ at y’little pictures”

deep sigh as he said it, like he was thinking back to you in compromising positions. you could almost see him with his eyes drifting shut, phone between his ear and shoulder whilst both hands preoccupied by his cock and balls.

“can’t hardly wait to get home to you”

as one hand stroked along his length, running his fingers over the head, the other would be cupping his heavy sack as he rolled them both in his palm.

“y’been teasing me, sweet’art”

large feet would be planted on the threadbare mattress, his thighs tensing the more he tugged himself off. you knew he’d be imagining you in his lap, doing all the work for him so he could focus on running his mouth.

“jus’y wait till i get m’hands on you”

your heart was in your throat with every word he said, you’d no doubt he’d stay true to his word. you had visions of him throwing the front door open and telling you to run.

finding you crawling across the bed to duck down the other side but his grip tightening around your ankle before you could get away.

you had to leave that feeling in the pit of your stomach before you got lightheaded but, as usual, simon knew you better.

“what’s goin’ on in that pretty head f’yours? thinkin’ about all the nasty things i’ll do t’you?”

a squeak of a moan slipped out of you, back arching in the bed as simon chuckled down the line. he always knew exactly what he was doing to you.

calculated man, comes with the territory.

“first thing i’m gonna’ do is stuff my cock in’y, got a couple’a loads saved up just f’you”

you couldn’t imagine how, all the filthy videos he’d been sending you. thick load after thick load spilt over his chest, his thighs, the shower drain.

but, then again, you’ve yet to find a thing he wouldn’t do for you.

“gonna’ keep y’in that fuckin’ bed till y’begging f’mercy”

you could hear it on his voice, the strain that was behind it. he was close, closer than ever but you couldn’t stop him once you got him going.

whenever he was on that precipice of bliss, the things that’d come out of his mouth could turn you inside out.

“gonna’ cum f’you, sweet’art- need you to-“

the blood was rushing so hard in your ears you nearly missed his words as they tapered off into broken moans. nearly missed.

“what d’you need, si? tell me, whatever you need it’s yours”

distant filthy sounds of a wet palm sliding along his cock was ever present in the background of the call. a long sigh drifted from his lips as he spoke.

“tell me t’cum, please”

jesus fucking christ.

there’s no coming back from the sound of simon riley begging.

“cum f’me, simon- need to hear you- make a mess f’me, baby”

the sound that left his chest was filthy, a deep groan intertwined with the sounds of cheap mattress springs. breathy stuttered moans broke through, your name a constant on the tip of his tongue.

he sounded desperate, no doubt still stroking himself even as his hips lifted off the cot. he wasn’t about making it easy on himself.

everything he did was for you.

listening as he rode it out, you could hear him still muttering between the other debauched sounds.

“fuckin’ take it, s’fuckin’ good f’me”

anther broken cry of your name only confirmed it. in simon’s eyes, he wasn’t pumping his cum across in his chest, he was pumping you full of it.

he’d gone too long without the feeling of you wrapped tight around him, only knowing the rough drag of his palm. he’d give anything to be in his bed, buried to the fucking hip in you.

simon’s breathing evened out, broad chest rising and falling with a sticky sheen across it. you could even make out the sound of his head hitting the pillow.

“fucking ‘ell, sweet’art- how was that?”

nothing if not an overachiever.

“perfect, si- you did absolutely perfect”

if he was with you he’d been keening into your touch, a soft side of him that only you were allowed to see.

softening further in his afterglow, you wrapped up with praises and promises to be waiting for him soon as he got home.

your entire body felt like it could sink through the mattress as you curled into his side of the bed, letting the scent of him overwhelm every part of you.

eyes shutting on their own, you’d nearly hit sleep when your cellphone buzzed on the bedside table. a little bleary eyed, you reached for it in the darkness.

“si sent a photo”

your heart sped up, teeth digging into your lower lip as you slide the message open. your screen went from light to dark in an instant.

thick thighs spread apart, toned barrel chest, tattooed arm, and a slightly scarred chin in the shot. in this light you could see it, so faint but still there, the streaks of cum dripping down the lines of his stomach.

the grip on your phone was so tight you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had shattered in your hands. in the corner of your screen, those three dots were taunting you.

your phone buzzed, you could almost hear it in his voice.

“could really do w’you here to clean me up, sweet dreams sweet’art”

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ build-a-fic no. 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

➴ chose a scent, an item of clothing and a weather forecast (a number, letter, + creature), and write/request to your heart’s content my dears!

𓂃 ࣪˖ a smell

꒰ 1 ꒱ rich, incensed perfume

꒰ 2 ꒱ burnt coffee

꒰ 3 ꒱ resinous pine needles

꒰ 4 ꒱ steadily-baking bread

꒰ 5 ꒱ inescapably strong disinfectant

꒰ 6 ꒱ expensive, pungent red wine

꒰ 7 ꒱ cheap cologne

꒰ 8 ꒱ salty air rolling off of crashing sea waves

꒰ 9 ꒱ mouth-watering home cooking

꒰ 10 ꒱ a too-strong vanilla candle

꒰ 11 ꒱ fresh-cut, perfectly ripe stone fruits

꒰ 12 ꒱ overpowering tiger balm

꒰ 13 ꒱ smoke unfurling from a wood fire

꒰ 14 ꒱ spiced incense

꒰ 15 ꒱ all-too familiar coconut shampoo

꒰ 16 ꒱ strong herbal lavender

꒰ 17 ꒱ newly turned earth

꒰ 18 ꒱ motor oil

꒰ 19 ꒱ just-washed bedsheets

꒰ 20 ꒱ petrichor after a rainshower

𓂃 ࣪˖ a piece of clothing

꒰ A ꒱ a wrinkled black tie

꒰ B ꒱ mismatched socks

꒰ C ꒱ faded blue jeans

꒰ D ꒱ a hotel bathroom

꒰ E ꒱ a stolen hoodie

꒰ F ꒱ a crisp white button-down

꒰ G ꒱ an expensive, lush fur coat

꒰ H ꒱ a pair of beaten-up combat boots

꒰ I ꒱ plaid pajama pants

꒰ J ꒱ loose-fitting boxer shorts

꒰ K ꒱ a yellow football jersey

꒰ L ꒱ a papery hospital gown

꒰ M ꒱ a blue, lacy thong

꒰ N ꒱ a brown belt with a gold buckle

꒰ O ꒱ cheap swimming garb

꒰ P ꒱ six-inch high heels

꒰ Q ꒱ a dark-red evening gown

꒰ R ꒱ a thick knitted sweater

꒰ S ꒱ a chef’s white coat

꒰ T ꒱ a flimsily-made tourist t-shirt

𓂃 ࣪˖ a weather advisory

꒰ 𓆉 ꒱ hammering, unrelenting rain

꒰ 𓅨 ꒱ warm, golden sunshine

꒰ 𓆣 ꒱ hair-raising rolls of thunder

꒰ 𓃰 ꒱ thick, looming fog

꒰ 𓃗 ꒱ a clear, chilly evening

꒰ 𓃱 ꒱ blazing heat

꒰ 𓃟 ꒱ a nighttime lightning storm

꒰ 𓆟 ꒱ a grey sky laden with rainclouds

꒰ 𓆈 ꒱ cold, drizzly mist

꒰ 𓅫 ꒱ an unexpected snowstorm

꒰ 𓅟 ꒱ bone-chilling sleet

꒰ 𓃵 ꒱ breathless humidity

꒰ 𓃓 ꒱ blustery winds

꒰ 𓆌 ꒱ rain-induced floods

꒰ 𓆏 ꒱ spitting showers of hailstones

꒰ 𓅭 ꒱ a freezing, sudden drop in temperatures

꒰ 𓆗 ꒱ a hurricane warning

꒰ 𓃢 ꒱ a tropical storm

꒰ 𓆧 ꒱ a warm, temperate breeze

꒰ 𓃔 ꒱ road-closing landslides

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

Lucifer x Reader - What Did You Say? (NSFW)

This is for @rosen-und-mondlicht, @citrusbatsandhoneybees, and @willoryn 💖

You and Lucifer have been dating for a few months now, and everything has been pretty great, perfect even!

He’s always a gentleman, and he’s very protective of you, keeping you safe is his top priority

He’s also extremely affectionate, your love life couldn’t be better!

There’s only one small problem…neither of you had taken that next step in your relationship that cemented how you felt about one another

But how do you tell the literal king of Hell that you love him?

You wanted to, you really did, but it never felt like the right time

And the doubts running through your mind didn’t help the situation either

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” “What if he laughs in your face?” “What if this is all just temporary thing?”

All of these fears bubbled up and broke through during the most inopportune time possible…

Lucifer was on top of you with a cute shy smile plastered on his face, his cock moving in and out of you at an even pace

But not even the pleasure he was bringing you could hold back the tears that welled up in your eyes

“Sweetie, what’s that matter?” Lucifer asked as he slowed his thrusts. “Am I hurting you? Do you need me to stop?”

“N-No, no, I’m not hurt,” you said clearing your throat, trying to wipe away the tears that rolled down your cheek “I’m alright.”

The man stopped all movement, but remained nestled inside you. “You don’t seem alright…you can talk to me, you know. I’m all ears!”

You shook your head. “I can’t, not right now. Just…let’s just finish this, please…” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Hon, I don’t want to move until you tell me why you suddenly started crying,” he insisted. “That’s not like you. You’re worrying me…if I’ve done something…o-or said something wrong, please tell me!”

“You haven’t done anything, Luci, I promise. I-I…” you bit your lip, holding back more sobs that caught in your throat.

Lucifer cupped your face, his eyes intense with concern. “Please tell me, I want to know how I can help you with-”

“I love you,” you murmured, unable to hold eye contact with him anymore.

In that moment, everything froze. Lucifer remained motionless above you for what seemed like eons. The silence made your heart sink and the tears began to flow again

“What did you say?” Lucifer asked

“I’m sorry,” you babbled, “I shouldn’t have said-”

“Say it again…please…” the man reached for your hand and squeezed it tight. “I need to know what you said…”

You looked back at him a little confused, but complied with his plea. “I said I love you…”

He leaned in closer, your lips inches away from his. “Again.”

“I-I love you.”

Lucifer’s mouth crashed into yours, gripping your hand even tighter with his other hand wrapped underneath your torso so he could bring you as close to him as possible

You pulled away only to see that the poor angel had started crying himself

“Lucifer?”

“I love you, too,” he choked out. “I love you…God, I love you so much! I-I didn’t think…I didn’t know you felt…let me finish making love to you. Please, darling…”

You felt the tears welling up again, but this time they were tears of joy and relief!

You nodded your head, and once again Lucifer’s thrusts continued, burning his cock so deep inside of you that you could almost make out the faint light of heaven

“Was t-that why you were crying?” he asked as his hips slammed into yours

You nodded again. “I didn’t think…shhhhit…didn’t think you f-felt the same. I was afraid…”

Lucifer pulled you into a deep kiss. “My love, the love I have for you goes even beyond the rings of Hell. I wanted to say it m-months ago! I-I should have told you sooner, but…I was afraid too. I hope you can forgive me. I’m s-sorry that I made you cry. I n-never wanna be the reason you cry.”

You smiled and wrapped your legs around his torso, forcing him even deeper inside you. “I love you, Lucifer Morningstar.”

“I love you more, my angel.”