#he starts to bite his tongue and become bitter

[tragedy-for-sale]

Bedrock Headcannons: Commander Wolffe

Bedrock headcannons are headcannons that I regard as a fact in the personality of a character I write about. They range from small details to a huge part of a character's backstory. These headcannons are a constant underlayer in all of my fics that involve these characters.

﹄『❝ Wolffe ❞』﹃

Wolffe knew after all his men died something had to be done but he didn't know what. So, he didn't sleep much during the weeks following the events of the Maleovance because everytime he closed his eyes he saw their faces, his face, dead in space. When he started being able to sleep through the night, he found it plagued with nightmares.

When Wolffe lost his eye, Plo Koon and the three of them were on leave on Coruscant. He knew Wolffe wasn't healing as fast as he should be, so Plo actually had Wolffe moved to the temple and that is where he did most of his recovery.

Plo would take Wolffe to go walk around the temple with him and it was during those weeks that Wolffe accidentally referred to Plo as his father.

If you bring that up he'll start getting all embarrassed and ramble on about how he was on pain meds all the time and his brain was still foggy.

Wolffe was a very shy cadet and even now, he doesn't know how he ended up as a commander. When he's by himself, when he's vulnerable, it's only then he'll admit that he's far too soft for any of this. He was created for war but he isn't made for war.

Fox and Wolffe were batch mates and whenever Wolffe is on Coruscant he'll spend time helping the guard. When Wolffe was at the temple healing, Fox undertook every assignment posted there (he hated it) but his brother needed him so there he was. If this had happened later in the war, Fox wouldn't have even stopped by once.

Wolffe does refer to bacta tanks as the aquarium of death and Plo is greatly concerned.

If you ask Wolffe why he chose the BARC helmet, he'll say it's because it looks cool. But he choose it because they limit visibility and only focus on what's in front; Wolffe, after he got his cybernetic eye, found himself getting sensory overloaded from all his eye could see and register, the BARC helmet reduces that.

Ahsoka and Wolffe have been thrown together a couple times by will of Plo Koon. Ahsoka is used to Rex and Cody, who are a hundred more times sure of themselves than Wolffe. She wants to go sneak out and cause trouble, things Cody and Rex jump at the chance to do with her, but Wolffe just doesn't want to. And Ahsoka doesn't understand why not. She understsnds the pain of Cody and Rex, but not Wolffe's.

He's scared all the time. Walking to the refresher, getting food at the mess, with every breath, he shakes from how scared he is. He's anticipating something to happen, for the loud boom of their ship exploding. When he's on the bridge, he doesn't breath. The trauma he faced after the Maleovance stunned him, it took months and him attacking Sinker for them to realize just how deeply he still lived in that day. Plo blames himself for not noticing sooner. Wolffe was his child and he didn't see it, Plo never forgave himself for missing all of Wolffe's pain.

He started to become cold and off putting really after he lost his eye, he'd never felt worse. Plo did everything he could to help Wolffe, but the only way for Wolffe to move on from all the horrors he'd faced recently, was to bury his old self. He might've been the type to joke, but now he's too scared to laugh because all that pain would come running back.

Wolffe is mortified of hugs because the last time he hugged someone, Plo Koon, he started crying; Plo brought him hot chocolate. (He was on a lot of pain killers and sleep deprived)

﹄『❝ Wolffe ❞』﹃

[captainfern]

ORAL FIXATION WITH GHOST

Always chewing on your thumbs / nails and ghost getting onto you (cutely) and everyone is disgusted by it but you just alwaysss have something in your mouth and one night ghost gets like “fed up” with you hurting yourself by chewing on your nails so he is like “you wanna suck on something?” And you give him the sloppiest neediest head I’m talking tears and mascara streaks and the lewdest noises like just UGHHH

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Damage, Inc.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

[“Damage, Inc” by Metallica]

[18+]

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• summary - you have a thing for putting stuff in your mouth. ghost has something to put in your mouth too lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 2.1k • warnings - fem!reader, oral [m!receiving], praise, degradation?? not rlly tho tbh, strong language

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You couldn’t help it.

It started off simple. Chewing your nails out of nerves and anxiety eventually gave way to chewing your nails out of habit. You didn’t mean too, it just happened. It’s not that you did it on purpose, anyway.

But everyone else on base still made fun of you for it.

Then, things got slightly more complicated. Putting your fingers in your mouth when you were nervous, or concentrating— just pressing the tip of your thumb to your bottom lip, or rubbing the pad of your index finger against the top of your lower row of teeth. It wasn’t meant to be gross, or strange, or anything like that. You couldn’t help it!

Things kept ramping up. Soon, you found yourself absent-mindedly biting at lollipop-sticks for hours on end, the plastic rolling along your teeth and tongue and giving you something to focus on. Then, it was sucking and chewing on the lid of your drink bottle for literally fucking days during missions.

It was becoming embarrassing, especially when the boys commented on it, joked about you acting like some teething fucking animal. It made you immediately spit out whatever it was in your mouth, and draw back within yourself, face burning. You didn’t mean too.

Gaz and Soap, bless their hearts, joked about it like teenagers. They didn’t mean it maliciously. They were idiots. You didn’t dwell on it too much.

Price tried to help. He noticed the chewing of the nails, first. Noticed the red, raw ring around your fingertips.

“Just dip your fingers in hand sanitiser. You’ll hate the taste.” He suggested.

You gave him a look. That’s not going to work, Price, oh my god.

He laughed. He seemed to understand you the most, though. On base, he carried toothpicks in his pocket, and would roll one across the table to you during rather tedious or nerve-wracking briefings. You’d twist them around in your mouth until you could taste the wood.

On a couple of occasions during missions, he’d hand you an unlit cigar if he had one to spare. You didn’t like the actual smoke inhalation that came with smoking, but the look of it always intrigued you. So, Price would hand you a cigar and you’d happily roll your lips around it, not binding the bitter taste of tobacco. Sometimes, Price would place his hat on your head while the cigar hung from your lips.

Soap liked to do this thing— he’d enter the room after Price gave you a cigar and his hat. He’d act shocked, looking between the two of you with his hands either side of his head in an expression of shock.

“Two Price’s?!?!?!?!”

It was funny, you had to admit.

But, the one person you couldn’t quite crack about the matter was your lieutenant.

He noticed your fixation. Of course he did. Ghost noticed everything.

But he didn’t act weirded out, making jokes like Gaz and Soap. He didn’t even try to offer help like Price.

He’d just make small remarks to you. Sometimes they were somewhat helpful. Sometimes you felt your body grow hot with embarrassment.

Chewing on your nails?— he’d tap you on the head as he walked past you.

Fingers near or in your mouth?— he’d yank your arm away with a shake of his head.

Sucking on the nozzle of your drink bottle for a bit too long?— he’d grip the back of your head and pull your mouth off of it.

Each action made you feel humiliated, to say the least. But, each action also had him speaking to you in ways that made your stomach flip.

Tap on the head = “Quit it, sergeant.”

Arm yanked away = “None of that, thank you.”

Head pulled away = “Don’t make me ask you again.”

Did some of his whispered words make your core throb? Maybe. Was that a problem? Also maybe, but who cares?

This entire thing came to a head one night in base. Price, Soap and Gaz were off doing god knows what, leaving you alone in the rec-room. You found yourself running a finger against your teeth as you stared into space, your most previous mission replaying in your mind.

You didn’t even hear Ghost come in. You also didn’t see him until he was looming over you, a hand clamping around your wrist.

You squeaked in surprise.

“You just don’t listen, do you?” He tutted softly. “You’re hurting yourself. I’ve told you to quit it.”

You looked up at him. “I don’t mean too, sir, I mean it. It just—”

“I don’t care,” Ghost said simply. “Stop it. I’m fed up of seeing you putting shit in your mouth. You’re not a dog.”

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t understand—”

“I don’t understand?” He blinked down at you. “I don’t understand? I understand perfectly. You just want things in your mouth, right? That’s what you want, eh?”

You frowned. “You’re making it weird.”

He had a hand on his belt now. When did he do that? It made your stomach flip.

“You want to suck on something so bad? You want something in your mouth?” He was unbuckling his belt before you could reply. “Come on then, naughty girl, open your fucking mouth.”

You gaped at him as he let his belt hang either side of his hips and place one of his gloved hands to his growing bulge.

“Lieutenant—?”

“Well?” He prompted, imprint of his cock right in front of your face. “Come on, sergeant. You want to put things in your mouth, right? So go on. Suck my fucking cock. Open wide and let me stuff this mouth with my cock.”

Oh.

I mean, you weren’t complaining.

But oh.

He peered down at you between long, blond eyelashes. You swallowed thickly, his stare making your entire body grow hot. His eyes seemed to grow darker and despite the skull balaclava, you could imagine his expectant expression.

“On your knees.” He whispered, bringing a hand to cup the back of your head.

You did as you were told— clambering off of the couch and sinking to the floor. His hand was still heavy on the back of your head as you propped ourself on your knees. He pushed your head forward, and you caught yourself by placing your hands on his thick thighs.

“Come on, pretty girl. I don’t have all night. Take my cock out.” He mumbled, pressing your face closer to the obvious bulge in his jeans.

He lightened his grip so you could lean back. With shaky hands, you unbuttoned and then unzipped his jeans. You opened them and proceeded to push down his boxers, letting his hard cock spring free.

“Good fucking girl. Now take it in your hand,” Ghost hissed. “Wrap your hand around it— ah, fuck, there you go.”

You grasped the base of his cock firmly, making him curse under his breath. You squeezed it gently, stroking lightly, and he hissed out, the hand on the back of your head tightening in your hair.

“S’enough of that,” he tugged at your hair. “Open.”

You looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering. He looked down, cocking a head slightly to the side. Tentatively, you leaned forward and, still maintaining eye contact, pressed your lips delicately to the reddened tip of his cock. The pressure was featherlight, barely a peck, and when you pulled back, you had a small smear of precum on your lower lip.

He grunted, the hand at your head tightening so much that it made you choke on a whine.

“Quit the fucking teasing,” Ghost grunted again. “Naughty girl you are, eh, sergeant?”

You kissed the tip of his cock again. This time, you darted your tongue out like a fucking lizard and swiped it along the sensitive slit across the head. A deep, gravelly sound emitted from Ghost’s throat.

Whoops.

His other hand came down to your face, and he forced a thumb into your mouth. It was cottony against your tongue, his glove tasting like the smell of him. He kept his thumb pressed to your tongue, his other hand gripping the back of your head. His cock was still directly in front of your face. A dribble of pre leaked down the fat shaft of it.

“What’d I just fucking say?” He growled, thumb pressing down harder. “Quit fucking teasing. You don’t want to listen to your lieutenant, eh?”

His thumb on your tongue was making you salivate so much that strings of it dripped from the corners of your mouth. You whined, embarrassed, as your body flared hot with humiliation.

Ghost chuckled, low and dark. “Messy girl.”

He finally shifted his thumb, hooking it onto the bottom row of your teeth, the rest of his fingers holding your chin. With this, he forced your jaw wider, pushing your head closer with his other hand.

“You want to put things in your mouth? Want to be a dirty girl?” Ghost let go of your head briefly so he could grasp his cock. He brought it forward and ran the sensitive tip across your lower face, smearing your saliva. He shuddered an exhale at the sensation. “Come on then. Let me put my cock in your mouth. Let’s see how dirty you can be.”

He kept your jaw open like a vice as he pulled his cock back and then proceeded to push it into your open mouth. You gagged immediately as he rammed the tip into the back of your throat with a groan.

“Yeah, that’s right. Gag on it,” Ghost groaned. “Fucking gag on it. S’too big, eh? Fuck, I know, pretty girl. But you love putting things in your mouth, don’t you? I bet you love this.”

Tears were welling in your eyes when he removed his thumb from your mouth. He kept a hand on the back of your head, guiding you to take more and more of him.

He was grunting and groaning quietly above you, your cunt throbbing at the sounds. Meanwhile, you continued to wrap your lips around his girth and keep up with the way he was fucking your throat.

He was heavy on your tongue. Velvety smooth, with veins you could feel and drips of precum that you could taste. You moaned around his cock, and he bucked his hips deeper into you, making you gag again. Tears slipped from your eyes and down your cheeks.

“That’s it, take it,” he muttered, the fat head of his cock slamming into the back of your throat. “Take it all in this slutty little mouth. Listen to these noises, too. Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

The noises were slick and wet. Your saliva, dribbling down your chin, pooled in your mouth as he fucked it. It was sloppy and messy. The sounds filling your ears made your stomach twist in both mortification and excitement.

Ghost was fucking his cock into your mouth like a madman. His thrusts were desperate while he kept a firm grip on your head. He watched you as you took his cock down your throat, grunting at each suctioned drag, eased by the amount of saliva.

His breaths were now coming in pants. “You’re not gonna put your fingers in your mouth again, okay? You want something to suck on, then you come and suck on my cock. Got it?”

You whimpered around him, desperately trying to hold more gags at bay.

He was still grunting and groaning deep from his chest as pleasure built within him. “M-fuck. M’gonna cum down your throat and you’re gonna take it all, pretty girl.”

You whimpered at him again. Your core was throbbing so much you thought you might die.

The grip Ghost had on your head tightened even more, forcing you to take more of his cock until your nose was flush to the thatch of hair at the base. You whined and gagged and it prompted Ghost to whisper your name and cum down your throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he babbled as he emptied his load into your mouth. “Fuck, yeah, take it, pretty girl. Don’t waste it… don’t waste it.”

He rutted his cock a couple more times before he pulled out. He blinked down at you lazily as you stared up at him, cheeks puffed out with a mouth full of his cum. Cheekily, you poked your tongue out a few centimetres, some of his seed oozing out and dripping down your chin.

“Holy fuck—” He caught himself moaning. “Just— fuck, swallow it.”

You did, and he moaned again. He pulled you up towards him, urging you to your feet by still holding your head. Then, he kissed you, shoving his tongue into your mouth to smother the noise of surprise you made.

When he pulled back, he breathed deeply, massaging the back of your neck gently.

“I’m serious, by the way. Stop chewing your nails and sucking on your fingers… please.”

You smiled at him. “I’ll try. As long as I can distract myself by sucking on your cock instead.”

“O’course you can, pretty girl.”

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bruh this sucked i’m sorry 😭

[tired-biscuit]

Fwb with yuuji who has always been your pretty sunshine kind gentle best friend. You expect the same care and silliness as he fucks you into the mattress and boy do you get it. But you also get incredibly skillful hands, lithe rough fingers curving perfectly inside you, unexpected bites in the curve of your shoulder, some mumbling about how pretty you look with his marks all over. You've never seen him like this, so beautiful and wet and flushed and high on you

18+ MDNI, fem!reader

divider credits: @/benkeibear

i think he goes out for a couple of drinks with some of his mates and then shows up at your doorstep, visibly tipsy and with that insufferably pretty smile on his face that immediately persuades you to invite him in.

despite being under the influence of alcohol, he’s still respectful. he places his sneakers next to your own as neatly as he’s able after he kicks them off in the hallway and watches you with blurry eyes as you step in front of him to unzip his winter jacket.

he snickers — boyishly so — when your hands touch his shoulders so that you can undress him, and doesn’t really provide a reason as to why he’s wound up at your place in the middle of the night. always one to wear his heart on his sleeve, he just tells you that he’s missed his girl, that’s all.

his cheeks are flushed pink as he calls you his. if it’s from the booze or from the chill outside, you’re unsure. so when you reach out to touch his face, he perks up and leans into it instead; kind of like a little kitty cat would rub against the hand of its owner.

he kisses the inside of your palm. your wrist. he’s so touchy when he’s buzzed and your skin smells nice, he notes, kind of like you’ve just showered. is that the reason why your hair is damp and you’ve got nothing else on but one of his t-shirts that you stole from him years ago; back when things weren’t as complicated between you and you were just friends, minus the benefits? probably.

you lean into him when his cold lips touch your skin, on instinct or because your heart tells you to do so — maybe both. he’s cold because the winter outside is harsh at this time of year, and because he had to stand in line to get you the pastry you like from the 24/7 bakery across the street, but now he’s growing warm fast, all over actually.

oh shit, the pastry!

“i got you a lil’ something,” he mumbles, speech slurred and easy-going as he’s reaching for his jacket so that he can rummage for the paper bag he’s about 85% percent sure he’d stuffed in his pocket after leaving the bakery.

however before he can, you’re on him. you kiss him gently out of gratitude for coming over not just for sex and because of the plain affection you hold for him, but he doesn’t expect it, so his back ends up pressing against the door with a soft thud.

they’re slow, the kisses. every minute of it feels like a millennium and you wouldn’t have it any other way. your tongue glides across his front teeth in that laggard way that heats his blood to higher temperatures, urging him to open his mouth wider. so he does, letting you taste the liquor.

it’s bitter but also kind of sweet — he must have taken a bite out of that ‘little something’ that he’s bought for you, it seems. nevertheless, saliva gets exchanged, your hands start to roam over his chest. his heart beats so fast during the entirety of it that it makes him groan into your mouth in a way that tickles your lips with the vibration the sound provokes.

your breathing grows quicker, meanwhile he’s already panting. he’s clumsy, his back is slightly hunched as he reaches down to grab the hem of your shirt and tries to tug it up so that he can touch naked skin instead. the bulge in his pants has become so prominent by now — it keeps pressing against your thigh whenever he squeezes your hips and pulls you closer.

“sorry, you’re just so—” he trails off, biting back a rather pathetic whimper when your hand wraps around the ridge of his cock. it twitches instantly under your touch, though only he can tell because of the denim that’s in the way. “you make me feel so… hot.”

his forehead is covered with a thin film of sweat as he rests it against your own. poor guy, he gets worked up so fast.

it’s the reason why you can barely contain the smile that’s tugging the corners of your lips upwards as you murmur, “you make me feel really hot, too, yuuji.”

it’s the truth. you’re feeling the heat in your tummy, feeling your panties sticking to your pussy because of the warm wetness steadily gathering there. your pulse is pounding in your ears with thrill.

and how couldn’t it? you’re still fairly new to this entire friends with benefits thing; every time you get down to business, it’s like an entire new world has opened for the both of you. you’ve known him for years, sure, but when the clothes come off, you’ve still got so much to learn about each other.

and it shows. as you look up at him, you realise that there is an entirely new side of your best friend staring back at you through hooded eyes and too-big pupils.

yuuji is needy, open, vulnerable. horny enough to fuck you on the floor in the middle of your hallway if you as much as said the word, but so caring that he’ll wait until morning if you’d rather have him be sober for it.

though judging by the way how your fingers are unbuckling his belt now, he guesses it’ll be the former.

[beloved-nyx]

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ SYNOPSIS - What more could a king want than you?

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ PAIRING - Yandere!Emperor x GN!Reader

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ FORMAT - Oneshot

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ CW - YANDERE CONTENT, Alexi is fucking depraved, the wine is really sus, mentions of blood, illegal use of blood (?), implied noncon if you squint, implications of SA on reader (not graphic, just mentions), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊ AUTHORS NOTE - bleh this is my first time writing Yandere sooooo but um hehe I hope this is good and um scary I guess I hope u get scaroused when reading this

You had never liked wine in the first place. 

It tasted sour, left a bitter taste in your mouth that made you want to puke. Maybe It was because you only had enough money to buy the cheap bottles, the ones that nobles would probably scoff at. It’s not like you could afford the luxuries they had anyway, or the time which they wasted by throwing extravagant banquets. 

But you started hating wine more when you stayed at the palace, the place you worked at. The Crown Prince was frivolous, throwing parties and balls every night, and the smell of debauchery was always present. You had no choice but serve the half-drunken nobles all night, wincing and scowling and sometimes even slapping wandering and unwelcome hands that came near you.

You hardly ever got sleep when you stayed at the palace, not when you had to partake in such parties, and definitely not when you could feel prying eyes following your every movement at the palace you begrudgingly called “home” even if it was nothing like that. 

You don’t know how you caught the Crown Prince's attention. You had made sure to look down, made sure not to break the rules, and absolutely made sure not to stand out. 

You knew what happened when poor servants had the affection of nobles.

Poor servants would get beheaded by jealous fiancés, maids would carry bastard children they never wanted, and the nobles would whisper and gossip and cause hell towards those weaker than them. 

“You look lost in thought, beloved.” 

A soft, silky voice that makes you want to claw your ears off startles you from your thoughts, and you look towards your left.

A man is seated at the front of a long banquet table, dressed in the finest clothes one could imagine. His long, black hair is messily done, and his dead, dark eyes stare into the cup he’s holding in his pale, lithe fingers. His lips, dabbed in red powder, are curled up in a smile as his eyes leave from his cup. 

“Am I boring you?” He sets his cup down, and you peer at the contents. Dark, crimson wine enters your sight and you quickly look away, instead looking down at the red, lush carpets. 

“Of course not, Your Imperial Majesty,” You hastily answer, your voice loud in the cold, empty room. The only light that seemed to illuminate the dark was the flimsy glow of the candles, a pathetic attempt at making this situation “romantic.” 

Ever since the Crown Prince, Alexander, became Emperor, your life had become a living hell in the making. He makes a contemplative “hmm,” before tapping his finger on the table. 

“Please, there's no need for such formalities.” He grins, and in that moment you want nothing better than to slap that grin off his face. “After all, we will be married soon. It’s quite uncomfortable having to hear my soon-to-be call me by such a…boring title.”

“And please, is the floor more interesting to look at than me?” You feel his cold hands lift your chin up, his eyes crinkling as he smiles again. “I missed looking at your face. Ever since I became Emperor, I hardly had the time to visit your chambers.” His fingers inch towards your cheek, before cupping your cheek. 

You try to refrain from scowling. 

“Alexander-”

“Alexi.” He corrects you, and you bite your tongue. 

You open your mouth before he shushes you, his eyes trained on your lips, before pulling away, instead opting to hold a knife instead as he expects the sharp blade. You gulp, and he smiles at your nervousness. 

“I…I think I lost my appetite, Alexi.” You try to refrain from stammering. You weren’t scared-you weren’t, you weren’t, you weren’t-

“But you haven’t even touched your food.” 

His black eyes regard you coldly, and you think dully that he must be having another moodswing. That happened often, at the strangest times too. But it also happened more when he was jealous, when he was sickeningly insecure of himself that he latched onto you to try and stave off those feelings of his. 

“C’mon, beloved. Why don’t you atleast have a sip of your wine?” He tilts his head, pushing a gold chalice in your hands. Your palms are clammy, and you think you're visibly sweating. You grab the chalice in your hands shakily, and he rewards you with a kiss on the cheek, even if it makes you feel disgusting and dirty inside. 

“My attendants told me you’ve been talking to some of those absolutely wretched servant friends of yours.” Alexi places down his knife, instead opting to take a drink of his wine as he hums thoughtfully and your blood runs cold. 

“You know that I’m easily jealous, my beloved.” The words roll off his tongue like poison, but he doesn’t look at you, instead swirling his cup around and examining the contents inside. 

“I-I’m sorry. I was just lonely-” 

He clicks his tongue, silencing your apologies with a wave of his hands. “To say that I’m disappointed is an understatement, my beloved. But I forgive you.” He grins, and gazes at your cup with a slight curl to his lip. “So just drink and be merry, my dear.”

Alexi looks at you intently as you gaze into the contents of your cup, the liquid reflecting your face as you gaze into it with a frown. Alexi places his head on his palm, watching you with some sort of sick glee that makes your stomach drop and makes your head spin. 

You take a sip and almost throw up.

It's thick and visceral, and the taste of iron floods your mouth and clogs your senses. You throw the cup away from you, the wine–no, the blood, seeping onto the red carpets. It doesn’t make much of a difference though, and you collapse on the ground as you try to cough up the blood that you had just drank. Alexi chuckles softly, and you can hear the faint sound of screeching as he gets up from his chair and makes his way over to you, kneeling down and making his pointed, iron-heeled boots stained red. 

“Oh, please don’t look at me with such a face, beloved.” Alexi blushes as you scowl at him, slapping away his hand as he tries and wipes off the blood still stained on your lips. He chuckles, black eyes filled with a sick sort of delight. 

“You know I get jealous easily, my beloved. I just wanted to drill it in that sweet head of yours who you really belong to.” He grins, and you want to puke. 

You never even liked wine in the first place.

[suemaelee]

<Before you go>

_Nsfw_ a short little smutt_

"You sure you ready?"

"Yeah, I mean, I have no choice, really," he chuckles.

"Mmmh, finish packing, l won't bother you any longer." You give him a kiss on the cheek.

"Bother me? Comon, this is when I need you the most. Please stay here, " he says.

"Okay okay, I'm sorry. It's just...I hate that you're leaving but happy you get to be with all the members again.

"Yeah, it's bitter sweet" he says looking into your eyes.

You were about to tear up, but you decided to keep it together. He could see that this is bothering you. I mean, for months you won't be able to see each other. He grabs you by the waist and pulls you in close next to him on the carpet floor. He gives you a kiss.

"Before you know it, I'll be back healthier then ever"

You chuckle and look down. "Yeah...I know you wil."

You look back up at him. You both have a moment where you just stare into each other's eyes. When an idea popped into your head.

"Let's stop being all sad. Let's make these last moments worth it before you leave tomorrow. "

"Oh?" He says with a smirk.

You grab on to his t-shirt and kiss him passionately. You sit up on top of him while he grabs your waist and pulls you in closer to him. You start to remove his shirt. Revealing all the extra skin you can kiss and nibble on. So you do exactly that. He groans and moans with passion. Feeling your warm tongue all over his body. You head straight down for his pants next. His loose gym shorts didn't leave much to the imagination. You pull his shorts down along with his boxers, revealing his rock-hard cock, glossy by his own pre-cum. You grab onto it and start leaving kisses all over it. On the sides, bottom, top, and all around. Then you slowly lick his dick from the bottom to the top, remaining eye contact with him. You can see by his expressions that he is enjoying himself. He's almost eager. Before you know it, he grabbed on to you head from the back and had started to gently push you head down onto him. Letting out a loud moan.

"Ah fuck" he groans.

Seeing how eager he is becoming, you now try to take him in as deep as you can while stil working your tongue onto him. Making him a moaning mess.

"Fuck y/n, oh my god yes"

He starts to lightly buck his hips into your mouth while still controlling your head and the speed.

"Fuck, y/n..your gonna make me cum, wait wait"

"Mmmh, but i don't wanna" you nag and continue.

"No, no, stop," he insisted

"Whats wrong"

"I need to be inside you when I finish. I need to look you in the eyes. Get on the bed." His voice is steady.

You like seeing him this desperate. So you take your time. Slowly getting up. Removing your sweater. Then your pants. Now you're in your socks, panties, and bra. Kneeling on the edge of the bed in front of him. You take off your bra and start to play with yourself, here and there, biting your lips, just to tease him a little. You can see he likes it, yet very impatient.

He pushes you to lie on your back and climes his way over your body, admiring it naked for the last time for a while. He starts to leave kisses all over your jaw, neck, shoulders, tits and stomach. He's just too eager. And you are too. He comes back up and starts to kiss you passionately. He pulls your panties to the side and starts running his fingers over your already soaked pussy. You moan softly into his kisses. He puls his finger back up, and while remaining eye contact, brings his fingers to his mouth.

"Mmh, you taste so good, baby."

He then sits up straight and brings his cock closer to your pussy. He positions himself and starts to push himself into you.

"Oh fuck" you moan.

A little deeper, and he's in. He starts to thrust Into you. Though you can see it's difficult for him to hold back. Both hands on your throat while he starts to go faster and harder.

"Fuck, I'm gonna miss this pussy" he moans out loud.

"I'm gonna ...miss this dick baby."

You just knew that's what he wanted to hear. He goes even faster, making you moan even harder, making the bed shake and making you feel like you're on cloud nine. High from the lust.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum" you moan out.

"Yeah baby? Cum for me. Cum right now "

You start to feel your body lose control, the way he makes you feel. Your body shakes in pleasure as you reach your orgasm. At that same moment, you start to feel him, too.

"Ah fuck baby, I'm gonna cum"

He starts bucking his hips harder and faster, losing control completely.

You feel his hot cum splurging into you. You both let out your last couple moans of pleasure before calming down.

"Fuck, that was...."

"Amazing" you reply.

He pulls out slowly and plops down next to you. You lie down under his arms after exchanging a few kisses.

And then everything went black. You wake up. It's the next morning. Next to you is a note.

"HI love, didn't want to wake you. You seemed to be sleeping so peacefully. When you read this, I've already gone. But I'll be back in no time. I promise. I wiL think about you every stepping moment of the day and you will think about me too, right?

I love you so much baby. Take care love.

Xoxo jk.

(PS. I'm taking your favorite perfume with me. Just so I can remember your scent.)

♡Army....he's leaving. Their all leaving. But we can keep each other company till they are back and reunited, right? I decided to write a little something so we don't feel too empty inside. Please let me know your thoughts. And stay safe out there, my horny babes ♡

[aurorawritestoescape]

TAKE ME

Joel Miller x f!reader || 900 words

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, angst, fluff, death, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie. I chose not to include all the warnings so as not to spoil the fic. Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: yesterday I sat down to work on Bad Blood pt5 but instead wrote this🫣 Hope you’ll enjoy it. Thank you to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing♥️

MASTERLIST

*****

He’s here. You can sense him. Then you can feel him. He’s not cold like you imagined. Like everyone would expect. He’s warm. Hot even. His breath fanning your neck. His lips sliding along your jawline. Scalding hot. Yet they don’t burn you. They caress. Show care. Give hope.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” You hear him ask. Subconsciously you know it’s deadly quiet in the bedroom but his words are clear to you. You’re silent.

He senses your hesitation and sighs. His face is hovering over yours. He’s beautiful. His plush lips draw your eye first and you’re staring at them, wishing them on you. He gives you a warm smile and leans down to plant a kiss on your chapped lips.

You become hot all over, when he slightly moans against your lips. You slip your tongue into his mouth to taste him more. He’s saccharine with a hint of bitterness as if you’ve bitten into a rotten fruit. You don’t mind it. You pull him closer and he lets you, answering your passion with a buck of his hips against your cunt.

“Oh my…,” you whimper as your fingers grip at his arms and you feel them strong and huge under your touch. They immediately envelop you, rendering your body motionless in his tight embrace. Yet it’s not suffocating, not scary. You welcome the comfort of them, the warmth he’s giving you despite his whole nature.

“Please,” you whisper against his scruffy cheek, “It’s been so long.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos at you, before you hear the shuffling of his clothes. He positions himself at your entrance and his hot stiffness sends a shiver down your spine.

“Sure?” He pauses, brushing your lips with his, and you breathe out a needy ‘yes’.

He’s inside you in a second. He’s big and it must hurt, burn. But it doesn’t. He fills you up perfectly and you tremble from the sensation. He doesn’t move though. His worried eyes, sad under the furrowed brows, are darting between yours.

“It’s ok. Move, please.”

He gives you a short nod and rolls his hips, sending his cock deeper inside you, making his tip kiss the deepest spot inside your core.

You cry out as the pleasure overwhelms you and you spread your legs wider for him.

“Take me, take me..,” you beg and he stops your pleading with another short kiss.

“Not yet. Let me enjoy you, baby,” he growls after parting from you and his velvet voice booms in the quiet of the room.

His handsome face is so close to yours, your lashes flutter against each other. Your whimpering lips call for his kiss again and again and it seems that he’s drowning in you as much as you’re losing yourself in him.

His thrusts start hitting you faster, harder, making you slide up on the bed. He grips your shoulder to keep you in place and pushes his cock in and out of you with fervor, not tearing his gaze off your face.

You’ve been exhausted for such a long time that without even registering it, sleep creeps up on you and you fall into the darkness for a few moments, minutes, hours. You’re not sure.

When your eyes flutter open he’s still going, still inside you, and his hips are moving languidly as if he’s trying not to disturb you, wants to let you rest. You must have come in your sleep, as your pussy contracts from time to time, wetness coating your folds and thighs, your skin slippery and sticky against his.

He’s not sweaty, not tired, even after having been plunging his cock into your soaked pussy for what feels like hours. Yet you know he’s on the verge of falling apart by the way his teeth are biting his lower lip without mercy. You lift your face to his and kiss him.

Only after tasting your mouth again, he comes with a loud moan, not ashamed of the euphoria that’s coursing through his body.

He’s spilling his load inside you and it’s warm and lavish as it fills you up fast and you sense it seep out from your stretched hole.

The sensation of his come, pressing on your walls, pushes you over the edge and you accompany his sounds with your needy whimpering as your cunt is pulsating and trembling around his cock.

He’s hugging you tight as you both ascend from your high, lips glued together, bodies pressed to each other. He pulls out and you feel the mess between your thighs. You don’t care.

His lips brush the shell of your ear as he says softly, “we need to go, sweetheart. I can’t - can’t give you more time.”

“I know. It’s ok,” you whisper back and you mean it. You’re too exhausted and you’ll gladly go with him.

“I’ll be gentle. I love you,” He whispers and he means it. He hates to do it but it’s all he is. All he was and will be. The angel of death.

A flick of his hand, a cold flash of steel and he’s staring at your lifeless body. With a pained sigh he takes you in his big arms and pauses for a second, watching your beautiful face. A part of him is glad that he gave you rest. But deep inside he wants to cry. A lone tear fallls on your soft cheek when he plants the last kiss on your still warm lips. He starts his journey, together with you but completely alone. Always alone.

****

Thank you for reading!🌺

Please consider commenting and reblogging if you enjoyed the fic!♥️

Masterlist

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @survivingandenduring @missannwinchester @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @littlemisspascal @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know! 💕

[minkdelovely]

Alastor continued to pump his shaft, gradually gaining speed as you sat there still, eyes shifting from his face to his hand, not sure which you wanted to grab onto first. The demon laid before you, his soft whimpers soon turning into all-out moans of pleasure, patiently awaiting your next actions. And just as you stared at him - admiring the way the soft light of the room shone on his sweat covered skin and made the ridges of his pelvic v more pronounced - he stared back.

His own eyes traveled from your blissed out expression, pupils blown wide with lust, to the bite marks and hickies scattered across your neck and collarbone, and further down to the curve of your supple breasts, heaving as you tried to catch your breath before you continued.

Oh, how he wanted to latch his lips onto your pert nipple, flicking his tongue over it again, and again, and again, sucking harshly until it stood fully erect; kneading the other breast and rolling the nipple between his thumb and forefinger - switching back and forth between your delicious mounds every few minutes. Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Alastor was starting to become impatient with your lack of movement.

"My sweet doe, please..." he begged, voice thick with seduction and desperation. Closing his eyes and letting his head tilt back slightly, you could see how the muscles in his neck were strained, his breathing becoming more and more ragged the longer he pumped his hand up and down the length of his shaft. Bringing his other hand that had been tucked behind his head down to cup his balls, he squeezed gently and began kneading at them the same way he had imagined with your breasts just moments ago. The hand stroking his cock quickened as the lost orgasm from before slowly began to build once more, his defined ab muscles flexing as he began to buck up into his own hand.

Opening his eyes once more, Alastor lifted his head to look at you again, eyes half-lidded and unfocused, pupils blown wide with arousal and desire as he allowed his gaze to travel even further south of your body to your ambrosian heat, soaking wet and dripping with his seed. He noticed a bead rolling down the inner side of your thigh, and reached out with the hand that had been caressing his aching balls - he swiped away the viscous fluid with his thumb only to bring it up and press it against your lips, beckoning for you to open and lick it clean.

Without a moments hesitation, your lips parted as Alastor presses the appendage against your tongue. You swirled your tongue over it, your lips closing around the digit as you sucked lightly and allowed the bitter salty taste of his cum coated your tongue. A more guttural moan escaped his throat while you moved to straddle him, having caught your breath and let your muscles relax enough to finally obey his previous command.

Pulling your mouth off with a loud pop, you placed your hands on his chest and positioned your sweet cunt just above his cock. Alastor had retracted both hands now, one going to rest behind his head once more, the other on your hip as he waited for you to sink down onto him. He was beginning to lose his mind with this torturous wait you were forcing him to endure; it was almost enough for him to take back control - to let his tentacles wrap around your body and hold you steady as he bucked up into your tight pussy, claws digging into the soft plush skin of your hips and drawing more of your delicious blood to lick clean. But no. He wanted to watch you use him for your own pleasure, and he was curious about what you might do with the feigned control he had given you.

Exhaling audibly, Alastor rubbed his flushed tip against the folds of your pussy - with as hard as he was and as soaked as you were, you were sure there would be no need for guidance from your hands. A smirk played its way across your blushing face while you watched a bead of his own blood drip from his lip from where his sharp teeth punctured the sensitive tissue down onto his chin. "Please, I need you darling..." he pleaded breathily, uncharacteristically submissive for a few moments. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone - make no mistake, you were on top, but he was the one in control.

"If you don't move, I'm afraid I'll have to punish-" Alastor started, only to be cut off by the sudden embrace of your velvety walls surrounding his dick with one swift motion. Throwing his head back and clenching his eyes shut, the Radio Demon let his jaw fall slack as he instantly bottomed out inside you, your mixed essences making it easy to slide against your already pliat walls.

"Fuuuuhh- ... aaackk!"

Okay this one had me right there with yall! I had to stop myself cause I was ready to drop a full blown fic here 🥵

Ahaha I'm doing beautifully my loves, thank you for asking! I promise I'm eating and sleeping regularly - healthily, not so much, unfortunately. The nature of my job allows me a lot of free time, so I've been trying to squeeze these in whenever I have the opportunity. But just fyi: your reactions are all the sustenance I need, baby~ ;) 💋

How are ya'll doin' on this fine morning? I haven't turned any of you into full blown puddles yet, have I~? 💦😈

PS: I'm so sorry for slamming your inbox with such a massive piece, Mink! I REALLY got carried away with this one 😂 Love you all sooo much, just wanna smooch each and every one of you~!

- ☄️❤️ Smut Santa

OH MY LORDDDDD ☄️❤️ SMUT SANTAAA!!! 😩🥲❤️‍🔥

Another tantalizing addition! 😮‍💨❤️‍🔥 I’m still trying to calm down 😂 This was honestly such a surprise, and once again, the first thing I saw this morning lmaoo. So I’ll be doing my best to keep it together omggg 🫠❤️‍🔥

And please, don’t apologize for the length; it doesn’t intimidate me one bit (no innuendo here I promise 😂👀✨).

I’m so glad you’re doing well, and I won’t prod, but I hope your health improves to a place you’re happy with — we’re all sending you our love 😭💖 you deserve nothing but good things, ALWAYS!! 💖

It’s been thrilling to see you enjoy yourself with these; I still can’t believe I’m even in the loop here 🥲✨ Just know that I’ll keep reacting for as long as you’ll let me 😂❤️‍🔥 or until my brain ACTUALLY breaks 🫠

LOVE YOU RIGHT BACK, ☄️❤️!! SO MUCH!! xoxo

@hazelfoureyes & @sugoi-writes PART SEVEN 😮‍💨🙏🏻❤️‍🔥

**updated april 28, 2024: @synamartia ❤️‍🔥**

part one ; part two ; part three ; part four ; part five ; part six ; part seven ; part eight ; part nine

[holybibly]

Hongjoong playing rough and losing control with biting and scratching is so mf HOT ‼️‼️‼️‼️ His bunny sinking her nails into his hair and tugging his face to her pussy after he threatened to bite her, then he realises she actually WANTS it.. wants him to bite her weeping pussy 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 his dick would actually genuinely hurt the way it hardened even MORE, maybe his knot would swell up so much more this time round too.

And his eyes rolling back into his head when he sinks his teeth onto the sweet mound oof...

All right, I'm definitely in the mood for a bit of rough and tumble today. Sorry to keep you waiting bunny 💓

Hongjoong is a lover of the hunt, perhaps a little too much for your tastes. But what could make a bunny sweeter than sugar then a good primal game? Absolutely nothing, especially with the approach of the full moon. As a result, it has become a tradition for you to venture into the forest at night, when the moon is at its brightest and the excitement is palpable. Your whole body was usually wrapped in Seonghwa's luxurious furs, which made moving around uncomfortable and slow. However, being in this wolf clan's house, you had little choice but to comply with your mommy's wishes.  It was natural for wolves to have a desire for wild hunting and a sense of chase. God, they go mad thinking about cornering you and sinking their teeth into your delicious, fertile body. You were an irresistible temptation; they simply couldn't resist you.  It was your third full moon, and once again, you found yourself exactly where you were meant to be at this time of the month. In reality, you are in no danger at all; it's just a game you're playing with them. The game starts when you're instructed to run and hide deep in the forest. You're given thirty minutes to find a spot, and then one of the wolves must find you, their sweet little prey, and ravage you. He will consume your body as his reward, knot you up, and fuck you madly.  Today was Hongjoong's turn to be your hunter through the forest, and he was determined to catch you. With the full moon bringing out his darkest carnal instincts, he relished the challenge of pursuing you. You cried out, whimpered, and squealed in his arms as he caught you, but he was relentless. You cried out, whimpered, and squealed in his arms as he caught you, but he was relentless. Your little cotton tail twitched with pleasure as you both succumbed to your primal desires. Today, he was bursting with excitement because of the tantalisingly fertile scent that you emitted, as if you were begging to be bred and filled. Hongjoong ran through the trees, following the trace of your fragrance—a mixture of peaches and cream, along with the heavy, intoxicating aroma of bitter almond and black cherry—Seonghwa. It didn't take him long to find you. Soon, his hot, hoarse breath will be tickling your neck, and your whole body will be frozen in an instant with fear and lust. As always, it has an effect on you! You obediently throw your head to the side and allow Hongjoong's long tongue to lick the bite marks on your own body. The skin there is still raw and inflamed, despite the fact that several months have passed since then. But Hongjoong sucks and bites at the area like a man possessed as soon as you fall into his hands. "I found you, my little bunny." The sound of his sombre laughter is a shudder through your body. "D-daddy…" "You played amazingly well for daddy, my little angel." Alpha purred, his fingers greedily tracing along your sides. He then firmly grasped your flesh, eliciting a gasp of both fear and pleasure from you. You couldn't help but notice viscous moisture beginning to collect between the folds of your pussy.

Hongjoong takes his time to fucking you, prolonging his anticipation, becoming more aggressive and greedy, all to make you the perfect meal for his feast.

First he has to taste you.

The air around you is cold, but your body is burning under his touch, under the luxurious fur soaked with intoxicating with sweet alpha pheromones. Your head begins to spin with the knowledge of what is about to happen as Hongjoong pushes you against the tree. Seonghwa and Yeosang went different ways before they fucked you to within an inch of your life. But you know exactly where Hongjoong will start. First he will bite and scratch you until you bleed and bruise, then he will greedily devour your pussy, slobbering and licking every available spot, and only then he will tie you up with his knot and keep you on his dick all night until dawn. Until Seonghwa takes you to the mandatory morning bath, and even then you can't be sure that Hongjoong will let you go.

"Oh my God, Alpha!" You let out a loud squeal as Hongjoong slides down your body, leaving angry, swollen lines from his sharp claws in his wake. His fingers immediately dig into your hips to hold you in place as he kneels in front of you, aggressively opening the sides of your gorgeous fur coat. He will probably hurt your thighs with the force he exerts, though there is no need; one look from those wolfish, hungry eyes was enough to make you not want to run away from him.

He looks depraved and wild, like a true predator: swollen red lips curled into a devilish grin, feverishly glittering eyes reflecting the moon and the lust hidden deep within, his silky hair dishevelled, and you can see his whole body trembling slightly with excess energy.

"I'm so hungry for you, bunny." Hongjoong growls in a deep, dangerous voice. He is more wolf than man now, but you, you like it in a strange way. And it cannot stop the wave of lust in your body, despite the natural fear of the predator whose sharp teeth are only a millimetre away from your neck. Bunnies are horrible whores.

You squirm in his grip as you feel his hot, ragged breath on your clit.

"I beg you, Alpha. I'm so ready for you…"

The Alpha rests his face between your legs, inhaling noisily your smel, his snow-white tail whipping behind his back like a whip. 

As soon as his mouth touches your cunt, honey slime begins to flow from your hole, and Hongjun moans. His tongue pushes the soft, wet folds of your pussy with brutal, animal insistence; he licks you shamelessly, noisily sucking all your juices as if he can't get enough of them, and you wriggle in his clawed hands. The sharp tips of his fangs lightly scratch your sensitive labia. And God, it does something to you. How can you explain it? You felt needy and hungry for something unexplored—a sensation unlike anything you've ever felt before, much stronger than you could have imagined.

"Don't fucking move, pet." Honjun growled, and the vibration of his voice sent a new wave of slime rushing out of you. "Or do you want me to bite this lecherous little cunt?" His teeth lightly bit down on your tender mound. 

You squeal into his arms, your fur slipping off your shoulders and your nipples instantly hardening as the cold night air licks at your naked breasts. 

This is it; this is exactly what you want. You want him to bite you. Bite you on your slutty little pussy. 

The realisation of this was a source of even greater despair for you. This would hurt. But you were in need of that pain anyway. He sucks the tender folds of your pussy hard into his devilishly beautiful mouth, and a loud moan escapes from your lips. Your hips unconsciously start to rub against Hongjoong's face. 

"Please … please, daddy bite me. Bite my pussy." That's what suddenly bursts out of you. Your little hands get tangled up in the silky strands of the Alpha's hair, and you dig your nails lightly into the skin of his head, which only makes him get more excited. 

The moment that Hongjoong hears your desperate plea, his mouth opens wide to reveal sharp fangs, which a second later are closing in on your tender flesh. 

The cry of your pleasure is so loud and so deafening that you could swear that all the wolves in the house would be able to hear it very clearly. Your eyes are wide open, and hot tears are streaming down your face, like the tears of the moon itself that shine in this night.  Honjun growls, his claws digging deeper and deeper into your thighs, and warm liquid begins to seep out from beneath them. He has made you bleed. The Alpha lifts his eyes to you, and for you, it's impossible to look away from his eyes as Honjun stares at you through his long lashes. His eyes, shimmering with scarlet—not a mesmerising ruby like Songhwa's eyes, but dark and bloody—seemed to penetrate your very soul. They made you flinch and squeal involuntarily. 

He pulled his mouth away from your сunt, only to lick greedily at the blood that ran down your thighs, his face smeared with your juices and the scarlet liquid that looked almost black in the moonlight.

"I've always known that behind that sweet, angelic facade, there was a real bitch in there. What are we going to do with you now, Fluffy?" Alpha bites you lightly on the thigh, and you throw your head back in a strange, painful pleasure, your eyes rolling back into the back of your head. It's all so horrible, so vicious. But you… you love it. Where is the sweet little bunny that you used to be just a few short months ago?

"I think daddy just has to punish you well. Don't you? Because I don't like bad girls, bunny, and you've behaved so badly."

[kaveehs]

Bite Me — Blade

gn!reader, wc 0.8k, vampire!blade, blood mention, tension between blade and reader, blade’s a sweetie towards the end, headcanons + drabble

synopsis: If Blade was a vampire, what would he be like?

a/n: Bladie’s here!!!!! good luck to everyone pulling, I was so happy when i got him <33 this idea came around the time where i first seen him and was listening to bite me by enhypen

Vampire!blade who has drank the blood of many humans in the past and acquired a taste for a favorite– blood that is both bitter but sweet all at once. He especially loves when it is first bitter, but has a sweet aftertaste. After all, when you become his favorite human subject, he vividly tells you the flavor of your blood.

Vampire!blade who purposefully bares his fangs so deeply into you just to see you writhe and squirm from the pain of his bite, you crumble into his arms so easily and whine with such a sweet voice, how could he not?

Vampire!blade who drinks so much of your blood at once that you get lightheaded and almost faint. He holds you tightly in his arms any time his fangs so much as graze your body because he knows all too well you’ll end up falling into them as your knees get weaker and weaker.

Vampire!blade who will drink your blood even if he’s not low on his blood supply, because he’s so fixated on your taste that he practically craves you. He doesn’t even have to utter a word– you know exactly what he wants from you and he likes it when you don’t put up much of a fight to let him have it.

Vampire!blade who can be a bit mean and direct at times, but he isn’t heartless. He will personally wrap up any part of you he has bitten with bandages, and makes sure to be gentle as he cleans you up. When all is said and done, he treats you so delicately, because he has no true intention of really hurting you.

—

Blade stood ways away from you, red eyes filled with a look of insatiable hunger. You knew exactly what this meant– exactly what he wanted from you. Only just recovering from the last time he drank your blood, you found yourself backed up to a wall as he slowly approached you, eyes completely unmoving from your neck.

You uttered his name weakly as he reached you, grabbing hold of your face. “I don’t know how much more I can take. I felt dizzy the last time you—”

Your breath hitched as Blade leaned in, making room for himself by tilting your face away from his own. His hand engulfed your jaw with a powerful grip, one you know you wouldn’t be able to escape from.

“Just don’t make it messy,” you swallowed and shut your eyes as you anticipated his bite. The warmth of his breath made you more and more attentive to him, as his other hand held you still by your waist. You grabbed hold of a bunch of his hair and clothing as his mouth inched closer and closer to your neck– but he hesitated. For what felt like an eternity, he stood idle, lips only a slight movement away from your neck. When they finally made contact, it was in the form of a gentle kiss– a location that he had previously bit that hadn’t fully healed.

As he pulled away, his eyes met yours before he moved to the other side of your neck. “Stay still this time,” he simply said as he tilted your head back all over again. His fangs bore into your neck without much of a warning, other than the friction of his tongue momentarily grazing the spot he intended to bite. The pain made you wince, both your grips on each other only tightened as he drained you of blood. Blade was relatively quiet as he drank, opposed to you who had heavy and staggered breaths.

When he was finished, he made sure to clean up any blood that had spilled. After he pulled away, you took notice of the blood that dripped down from the corners of his lips to his chin. You watched wordlessly as he used his thumb to clean it off.

“Blade,” you started, catching his attention. “What does blood… taste like?” His eyes softened at the sound of your voice, though his previous expression did not waiver.

“Everyone’s blood tastes different,” he answered, picking up the gauze he had set aside for after he was finished getting his fix. You leaned your head back, allowing him to carefully wrap your neck.

He had always made sure to be gentle when he wrapped your wounds, similarly to when you would take care of his own. “Why do you drink my blood so often?” He could tell it was an innocent question, your voice was filled with genuine curiosity.

He tied off the gauze just enough to where the pressure wouldn’t be painful for you. When he was done, two of his fingers trailed over his now covered bite markings. 

“The taste of your blood is my favorite.”

[cottonlemonade]

If He Could

word count: 936 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: UniversityAU! Oikawa x chubby!Reader

genre: smut, but make it angsty, pining

warnings: mdni, nsfw

synopsis: Oikawa thinks about you in bed, wishing he was your boyfriend

____________________________________________

It’s half past one in the morning and Oikawa along with some friends are still in the gym, practicing. Among them is your boyfriend, who Oikawa technically considers a friend, but ever since he started to date you, a bitter taste is left in his mouth when they hang out.

Playing two on two, Oikawa and your boyfriend are comfortably in the lead.

"Hey, let's take a break.", one of the others says and walks over to the bench, taking deep gulps from a water bottle.

"You want us to go easy on you?", your boyfriend says teasingly and bumps his fist with Oikawa‘s to look extra cool.

"How do you have that much energy left?", the other one asks, impressed, "Uni, volleyball, part-time job and a girlfriend."

"True! How is that girlfriend of yours? She treating you well?" The two boys laugh and Oikawa tries to look unbothered or better yet, to join in, but doesn‘t.

Your boyfriend just shrugs and grins, taking a sip of water.

"Come on, tell us."

Your boyfriend shakes his head and Oikawa relaxes a bit.

"The last girl I dated was really good in bed.", one of the boys reminisces, looking off into the far distance, "She did that thing with her tongue that-"

Oikawa picks up the volleyball and goes to the other end of the court, far away enough to not take part in that conversation. Eventually their late night trainings always end up here and he hates it.

He hears them laughing again and urging your boyfriend to spill about "his girl".

Oikawa is glad his friend is holding strong, until "Actually that one time she…"

When your boyfriend finishes his story, Oikawa feels his ears ringing and not just from the constant hollering of the other two. How could that jerk just-

No, this is none of his business. Even though you are his friend, too! He should say something. But it shouldn't matter what he thinks.

"Okay, one more round.", your boyfriend says, finally setting down the water bottle and opening his hands for Oikawa to pass to him.

"Hey!", he calls, shaking out his hand after the spike bounced off it with considerable force.

"Sorry.", Oikawa says sweetly, but his eyes are cold as he goes to pick up the ball that is rolling away.

He doesn‘t want to feel this way. Later when Oikawa is finally laying in bed he scrolls through his past conversations with you, cursing himself for doing so.

He thinks back to last week when you and him had been out for ice cream and an elderly couple had said how cute you look together.

If he would be your boyfriend, then… No, he shouldn’t even think that way.

But if he would be… Before he can stop it, his mind wanders back to what your boyfriend had told them earlier. About that one night.

If he would have been with you then… If you would be with him right now. Oikawa feels a pull in his stomach.

If you would be with him right now… He pictures you laying next to him, smiling, having freed each other of clothes long ago, kissing and touching and whispering. You would be biting your lip and sliding your hand under the blanket, your fingers ghosting over his lower abdomen. You‘d lean in to kiss him and …

Oikawa starts palming himself over his sweatpants.

He would pull you closer, feel your softness against him. He would run his hands along your curves…

His movements become a little quicker.

You would play with his hair and gasp when after having sufficiently touched every inch of you, he would turn you around, so that your back presses against his chest and he could kiss your neck.

His sweats are no good for where his dreams are taking him - Oikawa pushes them down, sighing in relief when he doesn‘t feel constricted anymore, his fingers wrapping around his hard cock.

In his dream you ask what he is waiting for and he chuckles mischievously. He would push his cock between your thighs, loving the little sounds you make and slowly, ever so slowly begin to move, rubbing against your wet folds, keeping a hand on your infuriatingly soft hip to steady you.

And you would moan his name and ask for more and he would thrust a little faster, his free hand reaching first for your breasts, teasing your stiff nipples, then go between your legs to play a little with your clit.

And after a while - a long while, he likes to take his time - you would grow impatient again and ask for more but he wouldn’t speed up his thrusts, only his hand, grabbing your hip tighter and you would fall apart on him.

But he wouldn’t stop. And your adorable exhausted protests and begs would finally push him over the edge and he would lay there, spent, panting, feeling you around him. And you would turn your head to kiss him and he would tell you how much he loves you before finally pushing his cock deep into you, so very slowly, inch by inch. You would reach up behind you to grab his hair and he would run his tongue along your neck. And needing another high you would tighten your walls around him, rolling your hips as he fucks you like he's been desperate to do for so long.

“Just like that, my sweet girl…”, he whispers, followed by curses.

Oikawa feels his insides coiling and speeds up again, lifting his free hand to his mouth to cover any noises.

____________________________________________

[mountainficss]

enmity • choi san

en·mi·ty

/ˈenmədē/

the state or feeling of being actively opposed or hostile to someone or something.

WORD COUNT: 2138

SUB!Reader + DOM!San

WARNINGS: possessive sex, oral (f. receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, clit play, clothed sex, marking, jealousy, making out, pet names/nicknames, dry humping, clit play, multiple orgasms, fluff, brief mentions of impregnation

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You felt your body being pinned against the front door as San loomed over your small form, catching you off guard. His expression was dark, his pupils almost swallowing his irises.

You had just returned from dinner, both of you taking time off work for the week to celebrate your third anniversary as a married couple. San had decided to take you on a date to your favorite restaurant. You had worn San's favorite outfit, a ruched bodycon dress in a flattering shade of lilac. It complimented your skin tone and hugged all your curves perfectly. He loved the way it looked on you, and it caught the attention of many others unbeknownst to you. San had been witnessing people in the restaurant staring you down all night as you both tried to enjoy your dinner. Just a quick scan around the large dim room of the restaurant would confirm his concerns, multiple men had craned their necks and shifted their eyes to rudely stare at your form. Even the waiter had been blatantly flirting with you, despite seeing the wedding ring proudly showcased on your ring finger. Poor San had dealt with this all night because of your cluelessness but decided not to bring it up, worried that shedding light on the shameless flirting would make you uncomfortable and want to leave. He would never want to ruin your night, especially the night of your anniversary. He had successfully held his tongue, biting back bitter remarks until the waiter came back with a large piece of chocolate truffle cake, claiming it was "made by mistake."

"It was an extra," the man smiled at you, completely ignoring San's presence. "I thought it would make the pretty lady's night better." Before you could respond, San butted in harshly. "Thanks, put it in a to-go box and bring me the check. My wife and I have plans tonight," he spits, his tone laced with venom as he emphasized the word 'wife.' The waiter nodded slightly in response, his smitten gaze darting away from your face and hardening as he side-eyed San and turned away to get the check. The sight of the waiter made San's blood boil, trying his best to calm himself down and let it go. He kept quiet as he watched you stuff your cheeks full of steak, feeling a bit better studying the way your eyes cutely lit up at the taste.

He was silent during the car ride home, only reaching his hand across the console as he drove to place it on your half-bare thigh, squishing it endearingly and bringing a smile to your face. You still had no knowledge of the reason San was so quiet, shooting him a sweet smile and placing your hand on top of his, enjoying the car ride silently with him.

After you both arrived home, you didn't even take 5 steps inside before you felt San's hands unexpectedly gripping your hips and pressing you up against the front door. Your eyes widened at the action, his perfect face hovering over yours and staring deeply into your eyes with an almost unreadable look. The feeling of his hands over your clothed skin instantly made you heat up, your face turning a slight pink. "S-Sannie?" You started, squirming a bit underneath him. "Is something wrong?" He hummed in response, leaning in to litter gentle kisses onto your jawline. You held back a whimper as he muttered compliments and praises against your skin. "You look so pretty in that dress, baby. You caught everyone's eye tonight," he swoons, his kisses traveling down to your neck and collarbone. You felt your face become redder as all your thoughts left your mind. The only thing you could think about was San. You felt your slick flooding out of your heat, slightly rubbing your thighs together for some friction.

"That waiter was eye-fucking you the whole night baby. Bet he wishes he was me," he pauses to suck harshly on your neck, making you whimper quietly. "But only I can make you feel this way. Not those disgusting men that were eyeing you earlier and especially not the waiter," he hisses angrily, taking a moment to admire the pretty marks he left on your neck. You nod slightly in response, your eyes fluttering shut as the feeling of lust washed over you. He moves one hand down from your hip, grazing down your thigh and snaking his hand under your dress to cup your clothed heat. "You're so wet," he sighs, feeling your arousal seeping through your panties. You moaned at the contact, slightly grinding your hips down onto him to feel more. His fingers rubbed you lightly, sending tingling sensations throughout your body. He tapped your thigh, signaling you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his small waist, his lips attaching to yours in a heated kiss as he carried you to your shared bedroom. He placed your body on the bed, hovering over you and not once breaking the heated kiss. You felt his erection pressing against your thigh and moved your leg up a bit to stimulate him, a small groan coming from him in response. He reached a hand up to his shirt to slowly undo the buttons, grinding onto your thigh as he let out shaky exhales. The sight of him fucking himself on your thigh made you even needier, your hands traveling to your dress to remove it. You felt San grabbing your wrists before you could slip it off, lightly pinning them above your head. "The dress stays, princess," he demands in a hushed tone. "Tonight I'm fucking you in it."

He removed himself from you, letting your wrists go and standing at the foot of the bed. He began unbuttoning his shirt teasingly again, shamelessly staring at your flustered face as you rubbed your thighs together. You watched him strip, sweat beading onto your forehead as you ogled the man in front of you. He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants and boxers pool at his feet. Your eyes traveled to his length. His erection stood tall, the head red and leaking precum. He smirked at your flushed face, coming closer to you again and hovering over you as he pulled your body to the edge of the bed. He hiked your dress up slightly, allowing him more room to caress your skin. He rubbed his hands over your thighs seductively, traveling further up and lacing his fingers around the fabric of your panties. He pulled them down slowly, a string of your arousal connecting to the fabric making him groan at the sight. Kneeling on the ground, he began pressing sloppy kisses onto your inner thigh, making you whimper and grab the sheets below you. He gently pressed his nose against your inner thigh and inhaled deeply, the erotic smell of your arousal making him let out a soft sigh. "You smell so good..." He trails, kissing your thigh once more. You felt his hot breath fanning against your heat, making you squirm and whine lightly. He licked a long stripe up your slit, making you let out a choked moan. He continued licking up and down, his tongue working its magic on your folds. He circled the tip of his tongue around your clit as your body writhed under him. He held your thighs tightly, pinning your legs down and keeping them apart. He sucked harshly on your clit, making you cry out as you felt your orgasm building up. His wet muscle traveled down to your hole, pushing itself in and slowly tongue-fucking you. The lewd wet sounds of his tongue relentlessly violating your hole filled the room, turning you on even more. "S-Sannie, wait," you begged as your hole clenched around him. "Gonna cum..."

He moaned lewdly against you as he savored your taste, the vibrations pushing you over the edge and causing you to clench violently around his tongue. Your cries and moans filled his ears as he lapped up your release, his tongue overstimulating your sensitive core. He cleaned you up, slowly licking up your slit as your legs trembled in his tight hold. "You taste so good princess," he cooed, placing a kiss onto your pearl and making your body jolt. He chuckled darkly at your sensitivity, crawling towards you to hover above you and groping your thighs. "Now," he begins, placing a sweet kiss onto your lips and letting you taste yourself. "I'm gonna fuck you in this pretty little dress."

You felt his length poking against your heat, making you squirm and try to grind down on him. He scoffed at your impatience, slowly pushing in as you both let out satisfied moans. You were so deliciously tight around his aching length, almost causing him to ram into you immediately. You wrapped your legs around him, pushing him deeper and causing him to completely bottom out. He watched your face with a proud expression, loving the way you were falling apart without him doing anything yet. He began moving slowly, fucking you sensually and breathing heavily as your eyes rolled back. Every roll of his hips would hit your sensitive bud, making you moan out loudly. His eyes never left yours, observing the way his beautiful wife's face warped into such a fucked-out expression. Your tight core squeezed around him relentlessly as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. He moaned shamelessly in your ear, making you clench harder around him and snake your arm around to tangle your fingers in his hair. "What is it, baby? Does this turn you on?" He asks breathily, taunting you and smiling at how his noises were making you such a mess. You could practically feel him smirking against your skin, his thrusts becoming harder as you whined loudly in response. "I'm sorry, princess. You just make me feel so good. I want you to hear it, baby..." he chokes out smugly, his lips kissing the shell of your ear gently. "I know you like it..."

He ruts into you faster, moaning louder as he feels your walls fluttering around his erection, signaling your second release of the night was near. "God, you'd look so cute pregnant with my babies..." He muses boldly, your eyes filling with tears due to the overwhelming pleasure. "Can I fuck you full, princess?" You nodded quickly, unable to form proper sentences because of his cock mercilessly fucking your overstimulated heat. His filthy sounds next to your ear and his skilled hips were driving you crazy, pulling his body closer to yours as you warned him. "Sannie, I'm close��"

"Cum, princess. You did so well for me."

Your orgasm enveloped you for the second time tonight, much more powerful than the first one. Your eyes squeezed shut as broken moans and whines escaped from your throat. Your release coated his length, making loud wet sounds as San continued to chase his high. After a few thrusts he groaned loudly, the sound music to your ears as you felt him spill inside you. His length twitched violently as he fucked you full of his seed, his thrusts slowing and eventually stopping. His loud moans turned into soft groans and whimpers as he pressed more kisses against the shell of your ear, both of your chests heaving as you caught your breath. You held each other tightly, San still inside of you as you both savored the euphoric feeling for as long as you could.

"W-Wait," he breathes as he slowly pulls out, both of you letting out soft sighs. He pecks your forehead and slowly stands, stumbling groggily to the bathroom. "I'll be right back baby!" He calls to you from the bathroom as you struggle to keep your eyes open, drifting in and out of sleep. You heard the faint sound of the bathtub being filled with water, the sound slightly muffled due to your dazed state. San made his way back to you, peeling the sweat-covered dress off your body and carefully picking your weak body up bridal style to the bathroom. The smell of lavender filled your nose as he placed you gently into the warm bubbly water. Your muscles relaxed instantly as you let out a sigh of relief, feeling San slide in behind you and pulling you back against his chest. He lathered his hands in shampoo and began gently massaging your scalp, your heart almost melting at the loving act. His actions almost put you to sleep, your eyes closing as he washed your hair carefully. "Thank you so much, Sannie," you murmured, feeling so full of love for him. "I love you so much." He smiled sweetly behind you, his heart swelling with love. "I love you more, baby," he gushed fervently. "Happy anniversary."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

[kaeyazuha]

𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 (𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞)

❝ May I request Kazuha, Scara and Xiao with an s/o that's very visibly tired? ❞ + ❝ Reader is constantly feeling tired and overwhelmed by everything. Because of this, they eventually have a mental breakdown and start crying uncontrollably. ___ comes along and comforts them.❞

; Combined these two requests, thank you for being so patient with me!

; 11/4/22

; Hurt/Comfort

; CW: mentions of poor self-care and mental health, physical touch

𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗲 '𝗞𝘂𝗻𝗶𝗸𝘂𝘇𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶'

✧ Scaramouche is extremely good at pushing people’s buttons. Why? Because he has a knack for gauging reactions. By the twitch of their eyebrow, the slight grimace on their lips, the way their jaw tenses when they bite their tongue, even the slightest twitch of an eye gives it away. Due to this, he catches onto your poor mental health rather quickly. By the bags forming under your eyes, the slight blanching and discoloration of your skin, and the tired look in your eyes that practically begged for a break. However, despite him catching on quickly, he doesn’t have a clue what to do about it. 

✧ He’d try to beat around the bush, hoping you tell him what’s wrong. Lingering within five feet of you, staring at you expectedly at random moments, rarely striking conversations-- though unfortunately, it comes off to you as him being wary if not suspicious. And it terrifies you, only leading you to become further exhausted and overwhelmed. At this point does he step in, guiding you to his office and bluntly asking what’s wrong with you. Way to go, now they’re crying, he’d berate himself while inwardly panicking. He didn’t mean it that way, he’s just genuinely concerned about what’s happened.

✧ Eventually, he does manage to properly ask what’s wrong, and he’s surprisingly patient about listening to your slow, tired, and confused responses. If you trail off in the middle, not wanting to talk anymore, he’d quietly reassure you before bringing you close to his chest and covering your eyes with his hand, attempting to help you close your eyes. His way of comforting you is choppy, strange, and haphazard, but it’s the best he can do for now and that thought alone is enough to reassure you. He’s trying, he really is, and he’s trying for you.

- ✧ -

If you weren’t half-asleep hovering over your work, the sound of his blunt fingernails tapping against the desk might’ve driven you insane. It’s deliberate, you can tell. The glint in those indigo eyes as he increases the pressure in which he presses his nails into the wooden desk, increases the speed in hopes of making you snap and say something, anything to him. Truthfully, he’s trying to induce a breakdown. When he reaches your state of mind, nothing feels better than letting it out in the form of aggression. A scream, a cry, a punch or two, and he’s all good. Yet, he finds that maybe this isn’t the best idea as he watches you stare at the papers without a hint of a reaction.

“C’mon, don’t make me ask.” Scaramouche sighed, setting his hat down on his desk before walking over to you and leaning on the desk, staring down at you from above. 

“What do you mean?” He simply scoffed, crossing his arms and tilting his head to the side.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He inwardly panics at the grimace forming on your face, and rushes to reword his question. “You look sick, what’s wrong?” If possible, you curl further in on yourself, not yet ready to face the wave of exhaustion taunting what little energy you had left. 

You sigh, looking up at him and finding comfort in the mellow concern of those usually dull yet illuminated eyes. “‘m just tired. Really,” A bitter laugh and a prick of tears at your eyes. “-really tired. An’ I really don’t wanna do this.” Your words slurred together as your voice broke, you attempted to stave off the oncoming breakdown. You didn’t have enough energy for this right now. Scaramouche clicked his tongue, mind swirling with questions that died on his tongue, and he scooted closer to you. Stacking the papers and shoving them to the side, he sat on the desk in front of you, legs parting to pull you close to his chest. It was strange, really, watching him be so affectionate, but neither of you complained.

The tears burned your eyes, the frustration with yourself only growing at the sticky feeling of hot tears sticking to your cheeks. “m sorry, ‘m really sor-” Thin fingers gripped the back of your head before he loosened his grip, now guiding you to rest your head over where his heart would be. There was no heartbeat, only the sound of flowing blood that occupied his chest. 

Even without a heart, he bled like you.

“Quit apologizing, there’s nothing to be sorry for. Just rest, okay?” He mumbled, eyes locked onto random objects in the room in hopes of helping you feel less pressured. That, and he was still awkward about things like this, not yet used to confronting emotions with welcoming arms instead of a bottle. Your hands twitched limply at your sides, the throbbing headache refusing to subside while you cried into his sheer shirt. A moment passed of his silence, maybe two of your own, before you wrapped your arms around his waist as his own enveloped your shoulders. 

He was warm, the permeating scent of japanese incense and rosewood lulling you into a sense of security when he held you close like this. “This is okay?” You questioned, not wanting to force him to do something he doesn’t want to. At this, he rested his chin atop your head to keep you from going anywhere, and to stop you from seeing the saddened yet peaceful expression on his face.

“Yeah.” He hummed, his next words being mumbled almost shyly. “Take as long as you need, we can talk about this whenever you’re ready.”

𝗫𝗶𝗮𝗼 '𝗔𝗹𝗮𝘁𝘂𝘀'

✧ Similar to Scaramouche, he doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. Worse? He doesn’t even know something’s wrong. He’s trained in reading atmospheres, situations, sensing danger before it strikes-- what he’s not used to is non-verbal cues. However, he’s not blind, and does see that you’re more tired and sluggish than usual. He takes this as you being tired from a restless night, and simply encourages you to sleep more and leaves it at that. Yet, he finds himself feeling uneasy, like that wasn’t all there was to the situation and boy was he right. Xiao finds himself darting over to you in the middle of the night to hurriedly ask you if anything’s wrong, if he’s missing something. If you insist nothing’s wrong, he simply takes a seat on your bed with a stubborn frown and crossed arms, you’d laugh at his childish expression if it weren’t for the crushing dread in your chest.

✧ He’s surprisingly easy to open up to once that’s out of the way. He’s a secure presence, one that makes you feel like you could fall off a ledge and he’d catch you with his eyes closed- one that makes you want to spill every secret, from that one time you drew on the wall as a kid to your deepest insecurities. He listens quietly, a saddened look in his eyes; not pity, just sadness. He fights every day to protect your smile, he hates the feeling of not being able to protect you from yourself. If at some point you start being bitter and sarcastic about your pain, laughing dryly at it, you’ll quickly notice him grab your hand and give you a look that’s comprised mostly of concern and understanding, and you can’t help but fully break down in his arms.

✧ He’s awkward at first, per usual, but quickly envelops you in his arms while rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. He lets you cry for as long as you want, encourages you to let everything out while ignoring the growing wetness on his shoulder and the way your nails dug into his shirt uncomfortably. Xiao quietly reminds and helps you to breathe when the sobbing gets too much, and he sways you gently while your sobs dwindle down to sniffles. He sits there in comfortable silence, allowing the wind to do the talking. After the matter, he encourages you to take a nap; he’d watch over you if you choose to head to bed, and he’d hold you closer if you decided to fall asleep in his arms. Either way, he takes extra care of you from that day on. Whether it’s watching over your mental health more earnestly, or checking in more often to ensure you’re caring for yourself properly.

- ✧ -

“Are you…okay?” You wanted to laugh at his innocent question, the way he looked at you like a curious child as you resisted the urge to slam your head into your desk. Okay? Are you? Hell no. Your eyes blurred and unfocused every few seconds from sheer exhaustion, your skin had dulled from a lack of caring for yourself, the bags under your eyes were dark enough to look unnatural, almost painted on. Yet you persevered for reasons you don’t even know.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You muttered bitterly, staring into open air with a blank stare. Unable to see him, Xiao let his confusion show through his face. He almost looked frustrated, staring holes through you as he tried to isolate the cause of your issues. Was it because you haven’t been sleeping right? Why haven’t you been sleeping right? Maybe because you’ve been overworking. But why have you been overworking? Each question led to more questions, and he ultimately grew fed up with this.

A faint whooshing sound and the smell of smoke cloaked the air, and you whipped your head around to see lingering black bits and dark smoke where your lover once stood. Tears filled your eyes, the idea of him leaving just to avoid you pierced a hole through your heart, you curled in on yourself and stared at the floor while staving off overdue tears. Before your thoughts could overrun your mind again, the previous whooshing sound occurred once more, this time right beside you. Cautiously turning your head, you saw Xiao standing sheepishly with a cup of tea in his hand.

He cleared his throat, averting his gaze with a grumble. “Smiley Yanxiao said this helps him when he’s stressed.” Looking at the cup, and then at his expression, you couldn’t help but smile before the prickling, burning feeling returned to your eyes. Sniffling, you turned back around and Xiao set down the cup before turning your chair around to face him again. “What’s wrong?” He asked simply, and you bitterly mumbled-

“What isn’t?” He sighed, pulling you up by your arm with ease before guiding you to the bed, forcibly plopping you down onto it before sitting in the chair you previously occupied. 

“Speak.” He crossed his arms, staring at you intently. “Or if you’d rather, rest. You’re clearly upset and unwell, I don’t want to leave you like this.” Golden eyes pierced through your façade, and your chest heaved with a crushing pain at the sight of his genuine concern. Going limp, you flopped backwards onto the bed with your arm outstretched to him. After a moment, gloved fingers intertwined with yours and his free hand stroked your cheek, brushing away the tears dripping uncomfortably down your nose from your eye.

With a sad smile, you looked up at him while he pulled the covers up to your shoulders. “Can you just stay here? Please?” Your voice was quiet, tired, and so very sad- it broke his heart not that he’d admit it. He nods, biting his tongue in thought.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” He asked with no malice, but a slight sense of urgency. Xiao's expression contorts from worry, to anger, to nonchalance, and then back to worry once more- you could practically see each thought that crossed his mind. Despite his cold demeanor, Xiao is possibly the most expressive person you know, and the thought brings a glimmer to your eye while you watch him fret over you.

You nod, the pillow soft against your cheek. “I will. Just…give me some time?” He contemplates this for a moment, but ultimately agrees. He kept his hand over yours, a reminder of his existence when your eyes fluttered shut. 

“I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

𝗞𝗮𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮 𝗞𝗮𝘇𝘂𝗵𝗮

✧ Kazuha is incredibly perceptive of the things around him. The slightest movement in the distance alerts him, he can distinguish a bird by its chirp, even shifts in the weather don’t go unnoticed by the wandering samurai. Of course, he pays extra attention to you, so he catches onto your exhaustion faster than you do. At first he doesn't bring it up, instead opting to try and help you avoid it. He takes tiny things off your workload, encourages frequent breaks and adequate rest, cooks meals for you and always puts more ice in your water after it melts, anything he can without directly confronting the issue(s).

✧ However, he knows he needs to step in when he watches you drop a plate and immediately tear up, glaring at nothing in particular but he could practically hear the way you mentally cursed at yourself. Kazuha’s a sweet man, with you always at the forefront of his mind and your comfort as his top priority. He’d simply pick the plate up, surprisingly unbroken, and cradle you in his arms. If you’re standing, he guides you to the floor so he can hold you close. If you’re already on the ground, he guides you into his lap if you feel comfortable enough. Kazuha would rock both of you back and forth gently, ruby eyes closed while he held you.  

✧ He waits until you break down to speak up. As the dam breaks, he gives you a reassuring smile while whispering words of praise and encouragement, his hand rubbing up and down your back while you press yourself into the crook of his neck. Kazuha is a poet, he speaks in flowers and moves with grace, everything about him is just so peaceful. With just his sweet whispers and comforting touches, you find yourself lost in his embrace and gripping onto his shirt with an iron hold. Even after you stop crying, and you’re left with a throbbing headache and runny nose, he doesn’t let go. You don’t see it, but there’s tears in his eyes too. The saddest of smiles and the look in his eyes nearly made you cry all over again. He spoke more softly than usual, cupping your cheek before mumbling--

- ✧  - 

“--I’m so sorry.” Sorry? Seriously? All the apologies breaking through your warbled cries weren’t enough for him, for all the burdens you’ve felt you’ve put on him, yet he’s apologizing? You opened your mouth to speak, but he interrupted with a pleading whisper. “Wait, please, allow me to explain.” Wordlessly, you nodded. “I’m sorry that you’re hurt this badly. I’m aware it’s not my fault, but nor is it yours. The burden is ours to share, but it does not belong to either of us.” He smiled kindly, tilting his head while he brought you to rest your own on his shoulder.

“This isn’t your fault.” With that, you bit back another wave of tears and instead clenched your eyes shut while burying your face into his shirt. “You’ve worked so hard, surely you can’t blame this on yourself. This workload is unreasonable and we both know it, a break is long overdue.”

“It’s not that easy,” You mutter through gritted teeth, knuckles paling from your grip on nothing in particular. “I can’t just quit, there’s so much to do, I can’t just stop-” before you spiral, Kazuha hums and interjects again. 

“But you can.” Your eyebrows pinch together in confusion, curious of his implication. “The world won’t implode if you take a break, you have time. Deadlines ultimately cannot hurt you, but this can.” He vaguely motions to you, your fragile state, and then rests his hands on your face to guide it upwards. A warm gaze greeted you, the sight of his gentle smile bringing one of your own to your bitten lips. “Please, take some time off. We can stay home and rest, or perhaps do something you’ve wanted to do, anything. But first, you need to rest.” 

You scoffed, and then laughed bitterly. “I…can’t. I don’t even think I know how.” A sigh, and then a grimace when you spoke again. “I’m just so tired.” Your head went limp in his hands, cheek squishing into his palm as his thumb stroked your skin. Leaning closer, Kazuha tentatively pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Imagine this, my dear.” He proposes, tone lighthearted. “We switch roles. Instead, I am the one overwhelmed and stricken with anxiety, and you’re the one comforting me. You’re forced to watch me wither more and more each day, like a flower without sunlight, and all you can do is watch as your beloved hurts more and more.” He smiles sadly, cocking his head to the side to get a better look at you. “If you won’t do this for yourself, do it for me. At least for now. I want you to focus on yourself a bit more, and be more selfish in your desires.”

“Can I really do that?” Came your feeble question, and he nodded.

“You can. It may take awhile, but resting is a start. Even just for an hour or so, close your eyes and dream of something beautiful, something you want to do, something you deserve. You’ve worked so hard, and I’m so proud of you.” 

Unable to hide your watery eyes, you bury your face in his chest once again, and revel in his touch; his hands and fingers stroked shapes along your back, tender lips pressed to the crown of your head. 

“That’s it, let it out. You’re going to be okay.”

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Word Count: 3003

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

- Ky♡♡

[red-riding-wood]

Hii! 💓 I saw your post about drabbles/one shot requests and I’d like to send in the following angsty/dark prompt for Tommy: ‘I'm here to end what I started.’

Bang Bang

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x F!Reader

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Warnings: a bit of spice but no smut, violence, angst

WC: 978

Took some loose inspiration from Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) by Nancy Sinatra.

I'm sorry this is so, so late, Daisy! I'm finally back from many hiatuses and am getting my act together with writing. Hope you enjoy because I quite like how this one turned out. <3

Your hand trembled around the revolver, bitterly cold in the winter air of Birmingham, next to the canals where snaking tendrils of mist wrapped around the foundations of the stone bridge. But it was not the cold that sent a shiver along your skin, that blurred the edges of your vision with unshed tears. It was the man who approached, your heart beating wilder with each step he took, your finger feeling less assured against the trigger.

“I’m here to end what I started,” you told him down the barrel of the revolver, a quiver betraying the biting determination of your tone. Were you saying it to convince him, or yourself?

A sliver of moonlight caught the bright of his eyes as they met yours, latching their icy talons round your soul. Like a ghost, he was silent yet slow with his stride, the only indication that he was indeed corporeal being the press of his chest to the barrel, in acceptance or challenge you could tell not.

“So am I,” a low, husky voice met your ears, and before his gaze could drop to your parted lips, you caught the eerie warmth of your own longing mirrored in the ice of his eyes.

As he pressed closer to you, your hand lowering the gun but still holding it loosely to his stomach, that warmth came to you in silk ribbons, in soft brushes against your skin that reminded you of long nights in the Garrison, of stolen dances in lavish clubs, of Arrow House’s hearth as Tommy wrapped a blanket round your shivering shoulders. You could still taste the whiskey he’d handed you on his lips, as if it were yesterday, as his nose tickled yours and the fire of his breath consumed you. His hands, worried not about the gun you held to his stomach, but aching to finally acquaint themselves with every part of you, ran up your thighs and squeezed your waist, pulled you closer to him and drew a soft yelp from your tongue.

He breathed heavy around the muzzle buried in his waistcoat, not letting it stop him from feeling your body against his, from demonstrating just how much he needed you with his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and calloused fingers – so rough in contrast to the softness of his mouth – dragging against the line of your jaw.

Tommy’s grip tightened as you pulled back, possessive and needy, yet he thumbed gently at your flushed cheek as he stared back at you. One of your hands had come up to his chest, nails sinking into the light fabric of his shirt and palm resting over the strong beating of his heart. You were scarcely aware now of the gun you held, your world becoming him and only him as a fracture formed in the ice of his eyes and a few messy strands of dark hair fell over his forehead, his cap forsaken and his entire soul and being bared to you in this moment that made your heart clench so cruelly against your ribs, for you ached for nothing more than to devour him, to let the scent of cologne and cigarettes carry you to a kinder memory, a better place.

A tear streaked across your lips as you tugged at his shirt; you were certain he could taste the bitterness and despair on you as you kissed him again, sadder and softer this time, as if to tell him,

I’m sorry.

And you flinched as the sound of the gunshot ripped through the still air, the sound of your fevered breaths muffled by the ringing in your ears, the ice-blue of his eyes shattering now into hundreds of pieces. Your souls, severed, cold washing over your body once more and your breath hitching in your chest. No longer did his warmth creep into your aching bones; no longer did his fingers send shivers along your flesh. Numbness seeped into every pore, and time seemed to cruelly slow, the thuds of your heart coming fewer against your ribs. Your lips, wet with tears and blood.

Tommy’s thumb swept across your dampened cheek one last time, as if to cast away your sadness, to reassure you that it was okay, and the only warmth you felt now was the stickiness of the fabric between you, pooling at your sternum. Your lips parted in a cry, but no sound came out, and your lungs burned. The revolver clattered to the stone ground.

The icy gaze of death never left you as your legs grew weak beneath you, blood freckling his beautiful face as you sputtered around the whelming surge in your throat, and on his lips formed the words,

“In the bleak midwinter…”

Clawing now at the blood that stained your dress a darker red, you turned, wild and blurry-eyed, to make out the shadow of a wide hat below the light of the streetlamp that undulated in your vision, the lumbering stride and broad shoulders that were all too familiar, the cane that clicked like the tick of a clock against the stone.

Solomons, the last threads of your thought provided. Wisps of smoke dispersed into the fog from the barrel of the man’s pistol, but you barely had the chance to regard your former business partner as gravity pulled you to the earth, as if the Devil were dragging you to Hell.

You never should have trusted him. You never should have trusted either of them.

But Tommy made your fall gentle, cradling you in his arms. A tortured breath fanned your cheeks as his forehead was brought to yours, and it swallowed the light of the streetlamps; it swallowed everything, darkness spilling from the corners of your vision until nothing existed in the world but him, as he personally delivered your soul to the gates of the underworld.

MASTERLIST • REQUEST

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Taglist: @emotionalcadaver @evita-shelby @minaethrym @shelbydelrey @zablife

[swifty-fox]

good morning its little beasts saturday

“Keep going,” Gale orders, fisting John’s cock between loose fingers, letting saliva and precome slick his journey up and down the shaft. His own arousal is a half forgotten feeling between his legs. Pressing against his slacks insistently but dull for how he’s so focused on this. The slick sounds of skin on skin, the shuddering breaths John keeps trying to hide, as if embarrassed how undone he already is becoming. The bitter taste of John’s need on his tongue, flavor not so different from his sweat.

“Think you’re going to need confession after this one Father. Taking your communion from my fat cock, on your knees like an altar boy? All while asking me for forgiveness? Think you might be more filthy than even I.”

Gale bites John’s hipbone until a bruise blooms in the perfect map of his teeth because he’s right. John falls back on his elbows with a moan.

“Keep going.” He hisses. Swallows John down again, nose burying in the thick forest of hair around his groin. The scent of him is so trong it makes him dizzy, sweat and musk and streaked with the drippings of his own saliva. It wets his face, tickles the inside of his nose and he has to close his eyes against the divinity of it.

“B-because I dread the loss of Heaven,” John grits out, hand pressing Gale down on his cock now, grinding himself into his mouth. He’s so deep Gale can’t taste him, but he can feel him dripping down the back of his throat.

“And the pains of hell.”

John fucks his throat for a lazy while, whimpering and whining out his pleasure between prayer. It’s filthy, it’s the most Gale has ever felt truly holy.

“But most of all, because they offend Thee, my God.”

His chest tightens, throat convulsing in a threat and he draws off with a ragged gasp of air, returning his cheek to the pillow of John’s thigh. His skin slick with sweat, the curly hair of his thick poking Gales cheek, tangling in his lashes as he blinks, feeling a little cock-dumb himself. John pets his hair soothingly, strokes along the shell of his ear. Gale wants to kiss him. 

Takes him down again instead. Bobs his head shallowly this time, twisting his fingers around the length he doesn’t let into his mouth. As if waiting, John starts up again.

“Who are all good and deserving of my love.”

He can feel John trembling, his voice growing deeper, ragged and more growling. Fingers returning to grip Gale’s hair rather than simply pet, guiding the pace and rhythm of his head to his liking. 

John throws his head back, the tendons of his neck cast in stark relief by the afternoon light “I firmly resolve….with the help of thy grace- Fuck Gale. Feel so fucking good baby you take me like you’ve been doing this for years. Like you’ve been practicing on your fingers for me.”

If he had. If he had, with one hand down his briefs and the other starting only as a way to keep himself quiet- and then as a way to remember the weight of John’s cock in his mouth, that is between him and his own conscience. If he fucked his fist wet and sloppy from his eagerness and his mouth just the same picturing John pressing into him with that big body he didn’t think anyone but him and the Lord deserved to know.

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part I

Find more writing here :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge, huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who literally deserves all the credit and whose post inspired me to start writing this. I could not stop thinking about this head canon, and it was so kind of you to let me try and make a story from it :)

Part II >>

Lucien tugged at the iron chains around his wrists, the unforgiving metal biting into his skin. He knew there was no chance of escaping, that his fate now rested in the hands of others, but Lucien had hoped one of the links would break and he could take some of the pressure off his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” Lucien mumbled, blood still wet on his lips. He ran his tongue over his teeth to check if they were all there. “Fucking hells.” 

With one last useless pull on his restraints, Lucien gave up on breaking free from his shackles. He decided to take a better look around the small cell he had been thrown into, but even with his golden eye, he had to squint into the darkness. 

Stone walls spelled against magic of any type closed Lucien off from the rest of the world. He could feel damp, cool air against his skin, the type that came from being deep within the earth. He was quite sure his nose had been broken, but he took a shuddering breath. Mingled with the copper scent of his own blood, Lucien could smell dying leaves. 

Home. 

The thought came to him unbidden, thunderous in the silence. Others in Prythian thought that Autumn was rotting, cruel in its beauty, always just on the verge of death. Lucien had always found comfort in the constant state of the court he had been raised in. He had not considered Autumn his home for centuries, and Lucien rushed to shake the idea from his mind. 

He stumbled to the cell’s door, leaning onto the aged wood with all his weight. There was a small circle carved into it, a sorry excuse for a window, Lucien thought. When he pressed his forehead against the opening, and angled his head just right, Lucien could make out an endless hallway. He could see no guards, could hear nothing but the steady beat of his own heart. 

Lucien had been hopeful before, but the chance of him making it out of Autumn alive was starting to look more and more unlikely with each passing moment. Golden eye whirring, he searched for a crack in the wards. 

Lucien felt dread, ice cold, crawling up his spine. No one would come for him, he thought, the panic gripping him like a vice. He would be left entirely at his father’s mercy, alone and forgotten. 

Voice low, Lucien cursed Beron Vanserra for being terrible, and he cursed his brothers for being even worse. He added Rhysand’s name as well, angry for having sent him to handle the issue at Spring’s border. Lucien hissed one last bitter curse before he kicked the door in frustration. 

The action sent a jolt of pain up his entire leg, but being able to release some of that pent up rage managed to make Lucien feel just a bit better. He kicked the door once again with added force, wholly out of character for one of Prythian’s best emissaries. 

When the door shuddered, the ancient hinges screeching as if in protest, Lucien wondered if he had perhaps shattered the ward. As the door slowly opened, though, dim firelight falling through the widening space, Lucien moved faerie-quick to press his back against the rough stone behind him.  

It was a lesson the youngest of children were taught in Autumn, how easy it was for jewelled daggers to meet their mark. It was easier to fight, and to protect yourself, if you only had to worry about what was in front of you. It was a lesson so well ingrained in Lucien’s mind that it had become instinct. 

As the door opened entirely, and a tall figure stepped into the stone arch of the cell, Lucien remembered who had been the one to teach him that lesson in the first place. 

Eris Vanserra, Beron’s most trusted son and the heir to his throne. No one could deny Eris looked like a prince, all Autumn, even without a golden crown set on his blood-red hair. 

Lucien looked from his brother’s leather boots, to his brown pants, to the white shirt laced to Eris’s throat. He couldn’t see a weapon, no dagger hilt warning others that Eris was armed. 

Amber eyes fell on Lucien, lip curling in disgust. He looked disappointed, Lucien thought, before he realised that Eris was within the walls of the cell. 

Mind racing, Lucien glanced past his brother and into the hallway. Perhaps—

“Don’t even think about it,” Eris snapped, the words like a whip’s lash. 

“Fuck off,” Lucien snarled, angry that so much time had passed and yet Eris could still read him like an open book. Lucien looked more closely at Autumn’s heir, but he couldn’t guess just from the expression on his brother's face whether he had come to help, or to do their father’s bidding. 

“Were you always so crude with your words,” Eris raised an eyebrow in question, “or is this the Night Court’s influence?” 

Lucien bowed slightly at the waist, the gesture awkward with his hands still shackled behind him, mocking. “You have my sincerest apologies.” Lucien wanted to strangle Eris, and he hoped the tone of his voice conveyed the feeling well. 

When Eris tilted his head, looking more wolf than faerie, the small golden hoops going up the arch of his ear glimmered in the light from the torches. “Father is not very pleased with you.” 

Lucien made a point to look around the small space he was in. “Thank you for telling me, he hadn’t made his displeasure obvious.” His golden eye clicked into place as he faced Eris. “Is that all?” 

“He wants you dead,” Eris said, voice clipped, but certain. Lucien could see no mercy in that flaming gaze, no care. 

Lucien nodded, unseeing. He had known, from the moment he had been brought to Autumn, that his death would be the likeliest outcome. He was too busy thinking, mind preoccupied with the image of brown eyes, the rich colour of a fawn’s coat. 

I can hear your heart beating through the stone. 

For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop. 

The thought troubled him enough that he turned his attention back to Eris, glaring. “Come to gloat?” 

Eris shrugged, the movement elegant in a way only the best of courtier’s were capable of. “Only partially.” His lips turned down at the corners, the smallest of frowns, before he continued. “If it were up to me, I’d leave you here to rot with the rest of the prisoners. Truly, I could care less about what father decides to do to you.” 

“How kind,” Lucien mumbled, not entirely believing his brother’s words, but not exactly sure where the Autumn heir actually stood on the matter. Once, Lucien had believed Eris cared, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. 

Eris ignored Lucien’s remark all together. “Mother, though,” he continued, “she’s worried about your well being.” 

“Then tell her everything is fine.” Lucien knew the Lady of Autumn had enough to worry about. 

“That would be a lie,” Eris snapped. “Father is one bad mood away from ripping you apart and sending your severed head to Rhysand as a gift.” The words were a hiss, barely a whisper. 

Lucien breathed in sharply. “Eris–” He hadn’t known what he was going to say, but Eris raised a beringed hand, demanding silence. 

“You’re very lucky, Lucien, that I have some spare time in my very busy schedule to do as our mother has asked and find a way to return you to the Night Court.” 

Lucien could imagine his mother, tears in her russett eyes so similar to his own, as she fell to her knees at Eris’s feet, begging for help. He wondered if Eris had spoken to her kindly. 

“All out of the goodness of your heart?” Lucien questioned. He had meant for it to be angry, but instead he sounded exhausted. 

“What heart?” 

Lucien very nearly rolled his eyes. Only in the Autumn Court could people be so dramatic. “You’ll come back for me, then?” He would try to keep his expectations of Eris low. Lucien had learned from the last time he had found himself in a similar situation that hoping for help from his eldest brother was pointless. Then, he had considered it a betrayal, now he knew better, it was simply in Eris’s nature to do things that only ever benefited him. 

Eris smiled, the expression making it seem like he was baring his teeth. The dim firelight was casting long shadows on Eris’s face, the slash of his cheekbones looked glass sharp. “Give me a day or two, little brother.” Lucien flinched at the last two words, more cruel than anything else Eris had said to him since his arrival. If Eris noticed, he chose not to acknowledge it. “If your heart is still beating, I’ll find a way to return you to your High Lady.” 

Eris had a rare gift in his ability to make anything sound like an insult, Lucien thought. Still leaning against the rough wall for support, Lucien nodded in agreement. He knew better than to trust his brother’s word, but for the first time since he’d been tossed into the dungeons, he felt a small spark of hope. 

Eris took a step back, away from the arch in the stone, and Lucien was plunged once more into darkness. He winnowed without a word, the torches going out as he disappeared, and leaving nothing but a few dying embers in his wake. 

The heavy oak door slammed shut, locks falling into place, and Lucien was once again alone.

[lomlhwa]

pre-workout (k.mg)

pairing: idol bf!mingyu x non-idol gf!reader

preview: mingyu works out everyday because his fans love his muscles. but today, he's lacking enough energy to want to go. so he asks you for some.... pre-workout.

tags/warnings: fem reader, established relationship, morning sex, somnophilia, oral (fem. receiving), mingyu is all over you at 7:00am, praise, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart), uprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: the somno is consented with a bracelet which is explicitly mentioned.

wc: 956

song recs for this fic: playboy by exo, sexuality by taemin, drip by superm, touchin' by kang daniel

a/n: i'm literally so sorry for how short this is, i ran out of ideas and wanted this out of my drafts. but to make it better, everyone picture those insta pictures of mingyu for this fic. i know you know what i'm talking about.

saying that your boyfriend is strong is a massive understatement. he gets up to go to the gym every morning before dance practice and recordings. on top of his work outs, the dance practices make him stronger too. at this point, he could probably bench press you with one arm.

today, as per usual, mingyu wakes up to his alarm blaring on the nightstand. 6:45am. time for him to get up, have a bite to eat and go to the gym. you react only slightly to the alarm, rolling away from the sound.

today feels different, however. he doesn't want to go to the gym, which is unusual for him. he basically lives in the gym. but today, he really doesn't want to get out of bed. the softness of the blanket really keeps him from wanting to rise. 

nonetheless, he forces himself to get up and change into his workout clothes. he takes his pre-workout powder with some water. his nose scrunches at the bitterness. 

he walks back to your shared bedroom to see you sleeping oh so peacefully on your shared bed. your chest rises and falls at a steady pace. you stir a little, rolling over. the blanket wrapped around you falls off your lower abdomen. 

he lets his eyes travel down to see that you’d stripped yourself of your shorts in the middle of the night. his eyes travel to spot them on the floor. he finally realizes that this is what was keeping him here. 

you.

he walks over to the bed and peeks onto your wrists. he’s relieved and thrilled when he sees the thin, silver bracelet clasped on your arm. the item confirming consent to being woken up with some… affection from your boyfriend.

he carefully rolls you over onto your back, unraveling you from the blanket in the process. he takes in the soft supple skin of your legs and waist. he brushes his hands over your body, just soft enough to not wake you. 

he tugs your panties down your legs, placing them on the side table. he lets out a shaky breath as he pushes your knees apart. he slithers down the bed until he comes face to face with your core.

he blows cold air onto your core and goosebumps rise on your exposed skin. he sighs at the sight of your sleeping body laid out for him to take and use. the bracelet on your wrist is always an instant turn on for him.

his tongue rolls out of his mouth and slides between your folds. he loves eating you so much. the way your nerves twinge, the soft gasps that leave your beautiful lips, the way you shift around trying to get away. 

he swirls his tongue around your clit, a high pitched whine leaving your throat. you’re still not awake, but you’re starting to come to consciousness. he grips your thighs to make sure they stay open as he becomes more aggressive in his sucking and licking. 

your eyes flutter open and glide down to make eye contact with your boyfriend’s wet face. “good morning, honey,” he says in between licks. your back immediately arches, another whine leaving you. “fffuck, good morning gyu.”

he smiles against your core before slurping at your weeping hole. “sleep well?” you nod, your high creeping up on you every second. “why aren’t you at t-the gym? it’s almost 8:00am,” he just chuckles against you, not bothering to answer.

a couple more licks and slurps and you’re tumbling over the edge. your hands fly down to grip his hair as he kisses your core to help you through it. he gets up and wipes his mouth, smiling at your shaky frame.

“please, gyu. need your cock, too,” you beg. there’s no way he could say no to your pretty pleas. he rids himself of his shorts and briefs, stroking himself a few times before lining up with your entrance.

he shoves into you, groaning immediately at the contact. his hands find purchase on your waist as he sets a steady pace thrusting into you. the sounds of skin slapping and shared moans fill the room. the headboard even begins banging against the wall. your neighbors will surely be complaining later.

gasps leave you as your hands wrap around his wrists. your nails leave crescent shaped marks in the skin of his forearm. you clench and unclench around him rapidly as your second high approaches.

“g-gonna cum, gyu, fuck,” your eyes roll back as he picks up the pace. “please, cum inside me, baby,” you look at him with tears in your eyes.

“gonna give you my cum, sweetheart. you’re so good for me,” he kisses you gently in contrast to his merciless pace inside you. his lips move softly against yours, capturing your rapid breaths.

finally, the chord in your abdomen snaps. you shake and your hips stutter, grinding into him subconsciously. you hold his head to yours, keeping his lips against yours as he continues to pump into you. he bites your bottom lip as he spills into you.

“fuck, i love you, honey,” he kisses you a few times more before pulling out. he wipes you clean with a tissue from the box next to your head. he tosses them in the trash. 

“i’m gonna go to the gym now. you helped me up my energy. sleep some more, sweetheart,” he kisses your forehead. he slides your panties back up your legs. he pulls the blanket over you and tucks you in. 

you slowly fall back into a light slumber. the soft buzz of pleasure coursing through you keeps you calm. nothing is better than waking up to your boyfriend’s love and affection. 

© lomlhwa 2023

taglist: @imzambee