#i just think that “sink” has a really good concept

[moreworldliness]

so i came across a sonic mod/exe/thing called "sink" and it got me thinking

when people try to make sonic "scary", they never really do it for me because they try to ground it too much in reality:

"oh, sonic's in the real world and is trying to kill me!"

"oh, my game is corrupted"

imo, they're not coming at it from a game angle - they're too focused on outside looking in, rather than inside looking out.

for example, a popular fandom question - why is sonic afraid of water?

if you were on the outside looking it, you could probably shrug and say "well, they needed some kind of weakness gameplay-wise and the creators didn't think hedgehogs could swim. that's that."

inside looking out, however? consider!

MAJOR WARNING FOR DROWNING BELOW THE BREAK

you're sonic the hedgehog.

at the time of the classic games, which to you are your entire life, you're 12 with miles prower (your newly acquired and handy buddy) sitting at a clean 4 years old. sometimes it crosses your mind that he might be too young for this, but time and time again, he's put your worries to rest.

you're proud of him. he's smart and you're quick - you're the perfect duo.

you must've run hours before you enter into chemical plant zone and make your way through the lower path. its been a fairly standard journey up until this point and you're not about to be intimidated by some overgrown factory. (do factories even grow? you decide to ask miles later)

at this point, you're more than aware of how your life works. it's okay if you get hurt, because you have rings. it's okay if you "pass out", because you always wake up at the start of the area you were just in, with everything just as it was.

not to brag, but you happened to think you were pretty indestructible.

falling and rolling down unimaginable stretches of pipes, you and miles finally reach a new area: a hydraulic door opens in front of you, revealing a long chute upwards. cut and dry - you turn towards miles to grab his hand.

the door shuts behind you and, as quick as you can hold your breath, you're plunged under purple water.

miles - you've grown to calling him tails, because it's easier to say; you're still twelve, after all - begins paddling upwards with ease, but you find yourself horrifyingly heavy in the water. it grabs you, pulls you downwards, thousands of arms pinning your every movement.

you jump, and hit the first platform.

you kind of regret not learning how to swim.

tails has paddled so far upwards that you can't see him anymore - not through the sludge of this water, anyway. it seems to be getting heavier too, dragging your movements as you scramble to reach the second platform.

your hands miss.

your feet fail.

you fall back down.

you become consciously aware of how tight your chest is.

you keep trying, to the same result; jump, fall. jump, fall. you aren't sure how much longer you can hold your breath, either, and the hydraulic doors are shut fast - you can't even budge them.

you've tried.

you can just about imagine tails in your mind's eye as you try the platform again, scrambling around in a panic. he's four, in a mechanised factory with no way out, suddenly all on his own. the thought alone propels you forward, and you land a grip on the platform above you.

a foothold. something - there's gotta be some way out of this.

you glance up.

the clearance of the ceiling above you is still high, but for a brief second, you can see the lights of the level above you. you can see the wavering figure of tails, looking in from above, his two tails flickering around.

he looks nervous.

you can't help but laugh in relief - he's okay.

your mistake hits you all at once.

there is no air. the crushing weight of the water bears downwards, and you drop like a stone. there are no chaos emeralds, there is no life-saving device here. just water, yourself, and your own stupid reflection.

the "passing out" feeling begins sweeping over you, and just before you shut your eyes, you recount every last feeling you've ever felt - that time you dropped from spring yard zone and hit the ground a bit too hard, or the time the walls of marble zone came in faster than anticipated.

the time robotnik (eggman, you teased, once upon a time) hit you a bit too hard.

you're dying.

you're dying over and over again, and this time the only exception is that you're made to feel it.

you want to cry.

you can't.

the water cries for you.

you blink, and you're right back at the beginning of chemical plant zone. the sky is clear, the sun is warm; the wind blows through you.

tails looks up at you, waving his hand in front of your eyes to get your attention. he looks just as expectantly nervous as he did before you entered.

he asks if you're ready.

you can't make yourself move. all you can do is drop to your knees and cry.

you heave a breath of air, but all you can taste is water.

[rinneverse]

pspspsp,,, do you perhaps have a spare boothill thought or two ,, sfw or nsfw,,,

i most certainly do have a few spare boothill thoughts! mostly nsfw ( ¬‿¬) walk with me nonnie… heheheh this got a wee bit too out of hand and i dropped WAY more than a few thoughts (and i am also tipsy, so i apologize in advance if something doesn't make sense) regardless, i hope u rlly like this :3

cw. assorted boothill x f!reader thoughts, manhandling, biting, improper use of a lasso (bondage!), mentions of overstim, lack of stamina is a foreign concept to boothill, talk of cyborg dick and artificial cum, creampies. not proofread in the slightest if there are typos no there's not

𓆩♡𓆪 the thing about boothill is how unafraid he is of manhandling you. while he's aware that humans are much more fragile than he, he knows your limits like the back of his hand and he knows what you can handle. you can take him like a big girl, can't you?

𓆩♡𓆪 he'll fold you in half, put you in all sorts of positions, toss you over his shoulder and pat your plush ass with a smug laugh. if you decide you want to ride him and get all tuckered out, thighs burning, the moment you're whining and babbling for his help he's already on it. big hands envelop your waist as he moves you to his whims.

𓆩♡𓆪 boothill likes to see you pleasure-drunk, entirely fucked out by the time he's done with you. he can go for as long as you need, baby; you just have to say the word. he can eat you out for hours, fuck you for double that, and still have enough energy to take care of you afterwards.

𓆩♡𓆪 cyborg sex has the potential to really get freaky tbh... he's definitely had chats with you about different 'attachments...' whatever you're into. he's definitely figured out which size makes you cum the most, and will indulge your every whim—especially when you shyly ask him "baby... can we go bigger?" (if he still had a human body, his dick would be rock fucking hard right now.) he's definitely looked into vibrating attachments. great heavens.

𓆩♡𓆪 SPEAKING OF attachments he's looked into: boothill has definitely found a way to creampie you. the tipping point for him deep diving into this was when you were just whinin' so pretty for him, begging for more, and you had let it slip that you wished so bad for him to be able to cum into you. lo and behold, he finds a solution and he surprises you by cumming deep in your aching cunt one night. the two of you definitely make a mess of your bedsheets by the end of the day (and you probably had the most earth-shattering orgasms you've ever had in your life).

𓆩♡𓆪 the day you finally asked him what his teeth would feel like, boothill's grinning like a maniac. he won't bite so hard that it hurts too much, but he knows how much you like the power he holds over you. sharp teeth sink into flesh, followed by a hot tongue that laves over the mark adoringly.

𓆩♡𓆪 another day he indulged you... there was one time he noticed you eyeing the lasso that hangs at his hips. he smiles wolfishly at you and asks, "like what you see, darlin'?" he's surprised when you shyly nod your head and look up at him with sweet doe eyes and asks if maybe... he'd consider using it in the bedroom?

𓆩♡𓆪 and oh, he did. he considered it maybe a little too hard (he jerked himself off far too many times that day). when the time came for him to use it on you, he was fiending. he ties your wrists to the bedposts and just goes to town, treating your cute body like a pretty little cum dump. he's definitely a big fan. especially when you can't run away from all the pleasure he wants to give you <3

𓆩♡𓆪 he doesn't look it, but i think he provides good aftercare. he knows how fragile the human body is firsthand: that's why he's a cyborg now. he'll take care of you. without fail, every time he's done with you, you're practically a puddle, exhausted and jelly-boned, and boothill is scooping you up into his metal arms. and yet despite the cool metal pressing against your flesh, you feel warm. maybe it's just the love pouring out of his every action, the way he treats your body with absolute reverence and adoration as he cleans you up and gets you ready for some rest.

please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!

[moremaybank]

࿐ ࿔:･ﾟrafe teasing you ‘til you cry ࿐ ࿔:･ﾟ

warnings (18+), humping, teasing, a smidge of dacryphilia (bc who am i if i don't include that in my rafe smut), language, ending is kinda trash inspired by this p!link

his tip kisses your fluttering hole, and you think, hope, that he'll push inside. even just a little bit. you were desperate for the emptiness to subside, and rafe was the only one that could fill that void the way you desired.

but then he continues to push through your folds, moving upwards while his length collects every drop of your arousal. it's abundant, so slippery and savoury as he slides up to your clit. you can't help the gasp that leaves your lips, and the jolt of your hips at the sudden contact at your exposed clit.

"need you, rafe," you whine, hands travelling up the lengths of his arms. they grip at his biceps, and you look him in the eyes. you hope the glimmer in them will persuade him to give you what you already so desperately crave, but much to your dismay, it simply isn't enough.

"shh, baby. jus' wanna play with my favourite girl, yeah?"

the length of him runs back down toward your hole, and he slowly sinks inside you with a groan when your walls flutter in anticipation. you gush at the base of him, and when he pulls out of you he's completely drenched. "so goddamn wet, shit."

he then starts to rut his hips against you, running up and down your cunt over and over. he grips himself, fingers circling around his girth as he starts to focus on your clit. he uses himself to trace circles around the perimeter of it, smirking to himself and you when you start to babble and whine for him.

"tell me you like it when i tease you," he says. the way his tip nudges and rubs against you makes your toes curl and effectively ties your stomach in knots, so all you can really do is exactly what he says.

tell him you like it.

"fuck, i— i like it, daddy." he nods approvingly, eyes holding yours captive.

"yeah...know you do. it's 'cause you're a fuckin' slut. willin' to take anythin' so i'll give you this dick."

he then starts flicking your bud side to side with quick motions. you yelp, your head falling back against the pillow as you release him. he simply tuts at you, now using his cock to slap your clit instead.

"eyes open," he instructs. you do as he says, giving him a pitiful look. "good. now hold that pussy open for daddy." your shaky hands follow his instructions, coming down to spread your cunt wide for him. "yeaaah, good fuckin' girl."

his movements don't falter as time goes on, round and round, up and down, left to right. just hypnotizing you with his cock and ruining your clit until all you can do is cry for him. and if you think that'll stop him...i'm sorry to tell you. it won't. his love for your tears, especially when they're caused by him, will never die down.

"keep cryin', baby. nice 'n loud for me. know i love when you cry for this dick."

eventually, he's tortured you so much that your thighs are trembling for him. you're a sobbing mess, and rafe takes immense pride in that. all he has to do is push into your weeping cunt, tip kissing the deepest parts of you, and you're unravelling immediately.

concepts ; concepts (ii)

[maybankcore]

rafe cameron — nsfw alphabet ༝༚༝༚

context : the alphabet.. but each letter has a new rafe cameron nsfw/sfw concept. this is also bunny!reader x rafe.

tws : smut, nsfw, rafe x sweet/bunny reader, cream pie, voyeurism, brief degrading, brief daddy kink. fingering, porn/nudes, tying reader up, oral sex, a ton of nsfw headcanons.

A: aftercare • you would tend to get sleep almost immediately after you come, and the first thing rafe does is take you to the bathroom and let you pee so u don’t get a UTI, n he’ll probably wait outside and keep asking “u done baby?” ‘till you clean up. and obviously, after the oh so harddd task of peeing, he’ll carry you back to bed. rafe somehow doesn’t get tired after sex, but seeing you already get lazy eyed, he has no choice but to lay down with his little bun and cuddle up with her.

B: boobs. literally boobs. • rafe loves your tits, and he loves grabbing them even more. he’ll randomly come up behind you when you’re doing your makeup, hair, etc. and just grab ur boobs. he loves the way they fit perfectly in his big palm, and how flustered you get too. “rafe! stop— i’m doing my makeup!!” you’d say, as you wave his hands away, feigning annoyance. “relax baby, their just too tempting.” rafe snickered, smirking. rafe just can’t get enough of them, especially when your wearing the thin, baby pink, lacy top from victoria’s secret.

C: cum • okay, rafe knows that he has to use a condom, blah blah blah. but on those days where he just needs a good, raw, fuck.. trust me, he’d cum inside you, making sure every inch of his hot cum fills you up to the brim. and rest assured, you’d hate and love it at the same time.

D: dirty talk • he’d soooo dirty talk you in public, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, knowing how wet your sweet pussy gets just by the sound of his voice. he’d sometimes say the most vile things about what he’d to you when you both get home.

“do you really think i’m not noticing your blowjob eyes as i’m golfing, huh? y’know.. i’d love seeing those eyes of yours when i’m fucking you endlessly. making you cum so hard. oh god, baby, i can hear those pretty moans of yours already. hmm?” he’d huskily whisper, inches by the shell of your ear. and then, he’d walk off as if nothing happened. leaving you anticipated for the entire day, squeezing your thighs and drinking an excessive amount of water to help with the heat building in your cheeks.

E: experience • rafe deffo has experience with sex. but i wouldn’t call him the biggest man-whore, since he met you in s2 of obx, i’d say he had 4 bodies by then. 2 of them being random hookups and the other 2 being girls from a short term relationship w/ him. i also hc that bunny!reader would have a few bodies, but would act like she’s a virgin just for rafe, similar to how maddie perez did it.

F: fingering • mmm, rafe is a master at fingering. he knows how to get your pussy wet and make it even wetter when he’s touching you. he’d start off with just a few strokes on your clothed pussy, building up tension that you so desperately want to release. n then when you’d get all needy he’d slide your panties down and spread your thighs.

you’d position yourself on his lap, head on his shoulder, looking at him with your big bambi eyes, pleading. and he’d slowly circle your clit in circular motions, taking pleasure in the way your hips jerked and lips parted with heavy breaths. and then he’d sink two fingers in, slowly at first, and then going faster. the cold touch of his golden rings slipping between your lips made you moan. loud. and in amidst of all this, he’d be doing some random thing on his laptop, but secretly taking a voice memo of your sweet moans. to obviously jerk off to later, you really think he’d pleasure you and restrict himself from doing it later on?

G: g-spot • imagine no guy has actually found your g-spot before, they’d just fuck you and you’d get that tiny ounce of pleasure that made you cum, but when rafe first fingered you, curling up his fingers to hit that sweet spot that only you yourself could find, you UNRAVELED. i’m sure he was shocked at how loud you moaned. he had thought you’d never gotten fingered before. but when you told him that no guy had actually fingered you that good, he was both pleased and shook. “what d’you mean no one’s found your g-spot? isn’t that like— the main thing in sex??” but to be honest.. him being the only guy that found your g-spot really boosted his confidence lol.

H: hair • rafe absolutely loves your hair, playing with it, braiding it, seeing how it drapes over your shoulders elegantly. he had never met someone who takes care of their hair like their life depends on it. you’d have serums, hair masks, good hair days and bad hair days, and rafe was all here for it.

(this is for my curly hair readers btw). sometimes when your hair wasn’t cooperating you’d get annoyed and bang your hairbrush against your head, clearly disheveling your hair, and rafe would come over and brush it for you. putting in your gel, mousse and even diffusing it.

rafe also is weirdly obsessed with how your hair smells, he’d bury his shoulder into it, or randomly smell it throughout the day, and once he’d even gotten wheeze to smell your hair.. “her hair smells so good right? i don’t even know how, it just smells fuckin’ amazing.” he’d proudly state, and you not being sure if wether that’s creepy or cute.

I: initials (tattooed) • right on his chest, beneath his heart, are the two letters of your name, more so, your initials. Y/N.Y/L/N written in a bold, italic font. and right next to it is your favorite animal, a bunny. you were struck when he had actually gotten a whole ass bunny tatted next to your initial!!

J: jerking off in ur absence • whenever rafe has trips, or if you’ve been away for some time, rafe deffo jerks off to pictures you sent to him. you’d send a teasing mirror pic of you getting dressed, your hand covering your nipples. and then you’d send a soapy tit pic of you in the shower. but lastly, a day before you come back, you’d send the hottest picture of you in rafes favorite pink lingerie set, playing with yourself and moaning rafes name. leaving him needy and desperate until he lands..

K: kinks • omg the amount of kinks u and rafe would share imagine him fucking you for the first time and slowly starts roughing you up, only to see you cooperate and urge him to do more. the smirk on his facee😩.

L: location (where you fuck) • personally, public sex is a huge turn in for rafe, but being the little slut you are, it’s an even bigger turn-on for you. obviously you’d fuck in his bed or yours, and sometimes i’m the couch or kitchen counter. rafe would also take you on the druthers boat and make you ride his lap, stopping when a boat comes buy, your sweaty face and messed up outfit being evident.

M: marks • rafe would leave hickeys everywhere. stomach, thighs, neck, collarbone, shoulders, tits, even inches away from your pussy. you’d leave bite marks on rafe, scratches illuminating his back, and lipstick stains all over his collar and cheek.

N: nudes • he just has a hidden album filled with your nudes. wether its videos of you both fucking, teasing pictures you’d send him of your bikini try ons, or you fingering your self. he’d also have voice memos of your moans saved. p.s, rafe would so ask you to talk about something random for a minute on voice memos and jerk off to your voice.

O: only fans acc • a little similar to the one on top ^. but imagine making an only fans account where ur only follower/subscriber is rafe. and trust, he will act like a whole ass fan. he’ll comment on your videos; “omg ur so hot can i request food play” with a +400$ message next to it. youd livestream and he’d be your only viewer, talking you through playing with yourself. and when i mean he’s a fan, i mean this man would literally pay you 1000$ per month as per his ‘subscription’..

P: plushies • whilst fucking you hard, rafe would grab your favorite plushy and tell you to hold it. he found it so fucking hot seeing you cling onto the soft toy, bringing it to your mouth to bite onto to hold back your loud moans.

Q: quickies • yall would deffo have quick fucks in between parties, hangouts, dinners, etc. sometimes if your ovulating you’d practically beg on your knees for a quickie with rafe. “rafeyy, please. if you don’t do anything i’ll go to the bathroom n’deal with it myself!” you whine, nudging his arm to get up from his seat at an event. and obviously, he gives in. every. single. time.

R: riding his thigh • when your extremely horny, and need an immediate relief youd prop yourself on rafes thigh and start grinding. this would be your only option as he’d dismiss your attempts to make him fuck you, so he’d tap his thigh and say “if your really that horny jus’ ride my thigh. cmon, you wanted to come, right?”. you’d get so wet, making a mess on his sweatpants.

S: sucking his dick • messy blowjobs>>. sucking him off after a hard day, at a party when he’s high and needy, or right after you went to his family dinner. you’d look so perfect with your big, glossy eyes staring up at him. head bobbing as you perfectly swirl the pad of your tongue against the base of his cock. him groaning and praising your amazing head-giving skills.

T: tying you up • hands above your head, a belt knotted against both your wrists, restraining you from pushing rafe away whilst he fucks you mindlessly. rafe would be destroying you, pounding in and out as you take the pleasure like a good girl. you are his little bun, after all.

U: unfair • teasing you when your sat on his lap, waiting for him to finish off his work, whilst he slowly and lightly circles your clit. “daddy, i really need you.” you’d moan in his ear. “i know baby, i know. daddies gotta finish this off first, ‘kay?” and so you waited, only for him to go into the shower, not even letting you in.

V: voyeurism • sliding your panties off and stuffing it in his pocket is his favorite thing to do when he’s off golfing whilst your sitting in your garden chair, feeling the coldness of the air blowing against your sticky cunt. not being able to fix the unbearable tension in your pulsing clit, and having to wait till you get home.

W: what/how big is he • a whopping 7.3 inches. a tad bit specific ik, but the way he’d ruin you.. and what’s funny is the fact that rafe knows he’s big!! and he knows that you can take it too.

X: ion know what to put for this one.. so i’m gonna put a random hc of rafe.. • has a weird food play kink?.. i just feel like he’d take ice cream and lick it off your tits, or spread chocolate syrup all over your nipples and stomach and lick it off too. (obviously nothing down there, don’t wanna get a yeast infection).

Y: ‘your too big!’ • lining himself up against you, seeing his big cock already needy of slamming into you, made you worry. your eyes slightly widened at his size, how the fuck is he gonna fit?. “rafey, i don’t think it’s gonna fit.. your too big.” you mustered out, wanting but at the same time not wanting him. “shhh bun, ts’ gunna fit, i’ll go realll slow? okay baby?” he stated, making you ease up and unclench your pussy, allowing full entrance. he slowly slid inside you, already owning a long moan and scatters of whimpers escaping your mouth. he went in further, and you took him in fully. “good girl, i told you it’d fit.”

Z: also have no idea, so another random hc one again! • loves seeing you spit out his cum after sucking him off. just seeing his cum drop down your chin turns him on sm and makes him hard asf.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

[revasserium]

Can I request any windbreak characters (headcanons) of your choosing reacting to their s/o ending up in the hospital beacause if a rival gang targeting them?

reqs are open!

the beautiful and damned

sakura, suo; 911 words; fluff, slight angst, implied bodily harm, lapslock, no "y/n", hurt/comfort kinda i guess?, very!drabble, suo being... suo

a/n: sry i only did sakura and suo... currently i've only got the muse for these two tho i did consider tossing umemiya in there lmao; maybe next time...

falling backwards — sakura

it can take the body up to twenty-minutes to cycle through an average fight-or-flight response though he’s always prided himself in staying for the fight.

seeing you in the hospital bed for the first time was a masterclass in the concept of flight — or rather, in falling. of the ground crumbling beneath him, of his stomach going momentarily weightless before sinking and sinking, of his lungs calcifying inside his chest till it physically stings to breathe.

“i’m alright,” you say, waving him off, but for the first time, his knee-jerk reaction isn’t to punch something — it’s to topple into the chair by the door and bury his face in his hands.

“you’re alright…” he says, his mouth forming around the words like learning to speak for the very first time, and then again, “you’re alright.” the says the words like a prayer answered, like exaltation, like a promise to himself made and broken and mended back again.

you cast him a wide smile, though he doesn’t miss the way you wince and your hand jumps up to the bandage wrapped around your forehead.

“it really looks worse than it is… i just got scratched so they had to bandage up my head but the wound was really shallow so —”

he makes his way over to your bedside and tugs you into his chest, squeezing his eyes shut to block out the harsh, florescent light of the hospital room. for a second, your voice is muffled against his shirt but then you go quiet in his arms, you go soft, and there’s a terrifying moment when he wonders if he’s held on too tight —

“sakura?”

“you’re… alright.”

he slumps down on the bed next to you, reaching for your hands. you let him take them, let him study them. there are a smattering of bruises along your arms, but nothing’s broken, no lasting damage. he leans down to press his forehead to the backs of your hands; you feel the heat simmering beneath his skin, stark and startling against your cool fingers.

“yeah. i’m alright. and… you’re okay too,” you say, flipping a hand over to cup his face, to lift his head up to meet your gaze. he nods, slowly, leaning into your touch.

“yeah… i think i will be.”

here are the monsters — suo

there are a few things suo hayato knows to be true: he’s a good fighter, even one of the best in the freshman year, that green tea should be brewed at 75 to 80 degrees, and that whoever did this will pay.

“tell me who did this.”

his voice is light, almost conversational, and nothing in his expression betrays the bright red fury curdling just beneath the thin veneer of his calm. you eye him warily, and he smiles sweetly, cocking his head to one side as he waits for your answer.

“hayato…”

“hm?”

you sigh, leaning back in your hospital bed and crossing your arms.

“if i tell you, promise you won’t go looking for a fight.”

suo pauses, considering your words, tallying them against his internal list of truths — he knows of the terrible risk of loving someone more than yourself, of the secret strength it grants you. he knows terror too, the kind that seems endless and dark and ever-expanding, a black hole of nothing that threatens to consume him when he’d first heard that you’d been hurt bad enough to warrant a night in the hospital.

but beneath that terror is something else — something with flashing teeth and shining claws that he does not have a name for but has felt flickering there for his whole entire life.

this is the monster, he thinks, that lives in us all.

the minotaur in the middle of the maze of self.

hungry and lonely and howling for blood.

“fine. i promise,” he says, putting his hands up.

you blink at him for a few seconds before your eyes narrow once more. you know him, and you know him almost too well.

“hayato, what aren’t you telling me?”

“i’ll tell you if you tell me who did this.”

after another second’s pause, you sigh and list off a few names — the perpetrators to this great crime. kids, too, from another school’s gang.

“it’s par for the course, isn’t it?” you say, your voice tightening slightly as suo nods and gets to his feet. he takes his time, stretches, leans down to drop a sweet kiss into your hair, “i knew what i was getting into when i agreed to date you so…” your voice trails off as suo makes for the door, humming lightly.

“where’re you going?” you ask.

he pauses by the door, “for a walk and… maybe a friendly chat with some kids at the school the next county over.”

“hayato! you promised you wouldn’t go looking for a fight!”

at this, suo’s expression shifts ever so slightly. it’s in the slant of his mouth and the sharpness of his eyes, the way his voice is smooth as starlight but his words have all their vowels seeped in cyanide —

“oh i’m not going looking for a fight… but you see, the second they put a hand on you, the fight already found it’s way to me.”

---

@houseofsolisoccasum

[phebbsl]

Warm You Up

I was writing another fic but this popped into my head, oops.

Just a small thing on the different ways that cockwarming SDV Sebastian would go, according to my brain. Not super smutty but it is nsfw, it's more fluffy imo.

Not proofread, lmk if there's typos.

Sebastian x GN!Reader

content: fluff, nsfw, cockwarming

MDNI AND BLANK BLOGS!!

⋆｡˚ ☁︎⋅ ˚｡⋆｡˚☼˚｡⋆｡˚☁︎⋅ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚☁︎⋅˚｡⋆｡˚☼˚｡⋆ ｡˚☁︎⋅ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Cockwarming was not something Sebastian saw himself doing. Not that he was opposed to it, but he never really had a partner to suggest the concept to. It seemed like it would be more frustrating than anything anyways. 

But it’s become something of a routine for the two of you these days. It wasn’t really something either of you had planned on either, it just happened. 

He hasn’t officially moved in, but he might as well have, with the amount of time he spends at the farm. He walks over, taking his daily smoke break on the trail to your place instead of by the lake or the train station. If you aren’t home yet, he takes the time to pet your farm animals or sit on the bench outside, admiring the hard work you’ve put into the land. And when you do arrive, the two of you make dinner, passing little questions about each other’s day. The two of you eat over bed trays perched on each lap so you can watch something on your old laptop on your bed, quiet hums and speculations interjecting shows or movies. It’s not exciting, nor is it boring. It’s just...peaceful. Domestic. Something he hasn’t really experienced at home in, maybe ever? Perhaps that’s why he finds himself at your place so often. He’s never been the one for daring, passionate relationships anyways, not that this lacks passion. It’s a just nice warmth that cradles the need he has inside him, and he feels so understood by you, something else that’s severely lacking in his life. 

And when you’re both craving some intimacy beyond a good cuddle, but too tired after craning over a keyboard or from whacking down trees/pulling weeds/monster hunting and whatever else you do, you’re so impressive, he thinks, he’ll pull down his pants so you can slide onto his cock. 

The first time was an accident, he’d pulled an all nighter, and almost didn’t even come over. But he missed you more than anything, and craved your touch, only to fall embarrassingly asleep when you got on top of him. He was mortified, barely looking you in the face when he woke up the next morning and realized what happened, but you just shrugged and said it was okay. You teased him about it after too, of course.

But it happened to be the best sleep he’s gotten in ages, and when he asked to try it again, you just obliged and now it’s just a part of your relationship. 

You fall asleep to kisses and hands roaming your body, curled up around each other in a way that satiates the loneliness he feels in himself. And then in the mornings, when it’s too early, the sun barely up, you coax him out of bed by riding him until he spills inside you with breathy whines. Pleased smiles are shared over breakfast and a kiss on the forehead before he goes back home.

Other times, when it’s raining in the mornings, and he’s already in his head, he wakes you with hard, desperate thrusts, drawing orgasms and moans from you until the dark thoughts go away. Luckily, you take the rainy days easier, allowing the two of you to stay in bed longer. He takes care of you then, apologizing for the way he treated you, not that you ever mind, and it almost always leads to another round. It's sweeter, tender. You whisper reassurances then, cupping his face and he kisses your brow. 

It starts happening outside of the farmhouse too now. On particularly boring days, you’ll visit him as he’s working, and while you take his job seriously, it’s become a habit to slide into his lap, a sly look on your face as you work on loosening his jeans before sinking down on him. You love the way he groans, head falling back and eyes rolling into his skull as he splits you open. His hands always fly up from his keys, gripping your waist until he remembers he has a job to do. And you stay there, peacefully drowsy until it’s finished, and then he bends you over the bed or couch. You stay the night, not leaving his room, sneaking out in the early morning after one too many knowing looks and comments from Robin afterwards. 

Sometimes, it’s when he’s playing games. Curled up in his lap again, back against his chest so he can rest his head on your shoulder to look at the screen. He twitches inside of you whenever the game gets intense, hips fucking into you as if it’s by reflex. It only makes him play worse, because then he’ll get lost in the feeling of your warmth around him. He passes the mouse for you to take over so he can focus on thrusting into your sweet spots, a hand on your hip to keep you stable and the other on your jaw, turning your face to kiss him  before urging you to focus on the game. 

Occasionally, you get impatient faster than he does, unexpectedly moving or adjusting on his lap throughout the game, making him moan straight into the mic. You give him an innocent look while he glares at you, making excuses to the other players. It repeats until you start moving your hips, bouncing up and down until he breaks. He doesn’t even try to win the game, just pushes away the keyboard and mouse so he can take you right on the desk. The fact that all his teammates could catch on turns him, and you, on more than it should. He rams into you, crooning dirty words, teasing hands never helping you finish until you’re crying and begging him for it. He always cums with the loudest, drawn out sounds, hips still moving until he’s too overstimulated to continue. He pulls you back into his lap with a chuckle and another kiss, ready to move to the bed for a cuddle until—

“Goddamnit Seb! You forgot to mute again!” 

He’s gonna have to apologize to Sam tomorrow. 

⋆｡˚ ☁︎⋅ ˚｡⋆｡˚☼˚｡⋆｡˚☁︎⋅ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆｡˚☁︎⋅˚｡⋆｡˚☼˚｡⋆ ｡˚☁︎⋅ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Lmk what you guys think/which way is your fav hehe

[andersonfilms]

i think some skin to skin with cowgirl abby could and would fix me :P

❝ IM IN LOVE WITH YOU ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON!

an. nonnie, thank you for the request. it's more angst than i planned so i hope that's okay! i also wanna credit the cuntress queen @astralnymphh for this concept. so, so good. y'all need to check it out asap.

Since she could feel it, from very early on, she’s liked women and never enjoyed the company of men other than to have an occasional beer with. Most of the girls around her worried about settling down, finding a perfect man, one who is respectable, stable, loving. Pleasing the wishes of their parents who are ever so demanding with a downpour of insured judgements. 

It’s all left to be found here, the bellows from a man and a woman living unhappily together, telling others how to live their life. Yet, Abby from a young age yearns for someone else, the piece she believes is missin’. 

The sought after, happily ever after. 

Not a soul she had met for her bill so she keeps her head down. Late night escapades are tight lipped, hidden from spectator’s eyes, ones they would throw slurs her way without a second thought if they knew. Just like they had when she hadn’t kept it a secret.

 Sometimes, it burns. Other times when she was buried in between a woman’s thighs as they cried for mercy in her ear, it didn’t. 

Underneath the midnight sky, her fingertips dance on the white wood — the one she shouldn’t be stepping her boots back on. 

Despite how she tells herself, this will be the last time, it never really is. It’s a quiet night in the small town tucked away in a small town in South Texas, the stars shine bright in the countryside, moonlight shining brighter than it has all month long. 

Abby steps up to your front porch, the pearly white picket fence, the home your dad built with his two bare hands and a dream. When she’s met with your shining smile, the doubt is evident, barely visible but it’s there. 

Is this what you want? Or were you just too kind of a woman to say no? 

Nothing is said between the two of you as you pull her into your home, a senseless wonder swirls in your eyes, getting lost in impenetrable blues. Maybe, it’s what pulls you in and keeps you there like the failed dreams in a dying town. Perhaps it’s when you dream of the sound of her voice at night when she decides not to come, leaving you alone to think of not a single thing but her. 

Once the door closes, it’s just the two of you. Abby’s musk is overwhelming, she tends to be, but you seem to welcome it with open arms. There's a pot roast you made for her, devouring it silently at the round dining room table, her muscular thigh touching yours, reminding you of the feelings which never seem to wither. 

Her brown, weathered stetson hat sits on the empty chair, her fingertips picking at the frayed edge, the nagging thought in her brain shouts at her to say something, anything, but you beat her to it. 

“You don’t have to stay, Abby. You’ve got an early morning, so do I.” You pick up the emptied plates, washing them at the sink when you feel strong, protective, arms wrap around your waist, her chin resting against your shoulder. 

“Why are you putting words in my mouth, darling?” Pink lips decorate deliberate kisses along the side of your neck, “I’m right where I wanna be. M’here with you, not going anywhere.” 

With her pointer finger, she tilts your head to her, dominant lips catching hers, Abby’s hold keeping you in place as she reminds you of what it feels like to be held by the person you call home. The quivering feeling shoots a shiver up your spine, her hands don’t stop moving as they caress your body. 

“C’mon now, you need some sleep.” Her southern drawl is strong as ever as she leads you up the stairs into your bedroom. “S’late, can’t have you not gettin’ sleep because of little ‘ole me.” 

You know what she wants and you know you’ll do it too. 

Anything for her. Right? 

A freshly showered Abby emerges as naked as the day she was born. Porcelain skin tanned by the radiance of the sun from a hard day’s work, a constellation of freckles cover her body. There’s an abundance collecting at her shoulders, across her collarbones as they dust her strong nose and spread across perfectly sculpted cheeks. 

The time you have with each other is few and far in between, occupied by the responsibilities of managing a ranch with her father commands most of the hours of the day, keeping her effectively away from you.

Plus, the feeling swarming in her heart she refuses to see yet she’s here a few times a week, wanting this. If Abby wants more, she’s good at hiding it, but the thought alone is dangerous. You can allow yourself to want more, not when she gives you nothing in return. 

“Are you gonna come over here, gorgeous?” She slides in between your legs, some of her weight soothingly collapses onto you. “Patience darling, m’right here, not going anywhere.” 

With a sigh of content, she grabs you by the waist as she pulls you on top of her with ease. Abby’s golden waves kiss your face as she hides her face in the crook of her neck. Meticulously, the blunt of her fingertips draw patterns on your skin, playing with the hem on your lace undergarment, the only piece of clothing left in your body. 

“You will go somewhere. In the morning, you’ll leave without saying goodbye. Jus’ like you do after every night.” Abby tightens her hold, thinking if she keeps you close you won't slip through but truth be told? She’d be the first to drop you, even if it wasn't her intention. 

“Sorry, m’not strong like you.” 

“I think you’re a lot stronger than you think, y’know?” Her lips find yours as her skin smothers you in the body wash she keeps in the cabinet. Soft breasts melt against her own, calming her in a way Abby can’t quite comprehend. 

This was more than just sex. If that’s all this was, she would be the nearest bar picking up the closeted women who fawn over her before she even steps her foot in the front door. The most sought after woman in town, yet it’s her tongue in your mouth, claiming in a way words fail her. 

“Abby—” The moan vibrates through her, she falls into the sensation of your heavenly skin, smooth against her calloused hands. Every inch of your body feels golden to her. It’s what she craves, the intimacy without having to be, so good, a delicate sigh leaves her puffy lips. “I—” 

With a loving look in her wondrous pools of deep sea blues, with a hint of gray stowed away beneath the light, she inquires for you to continue as she looks up at you. 

Your hands gently touch her face, thumb lovingly soothing over the apples of her cheeks and the scar decorating one of them. There’s nothing she despises more than it, makes her look far too damaged, but you’ve always thought it makes her the person she is. 

Strong, loving, imperfectly perfect. 

The first time you did it, she flinched as she gripped your wrist, pulling your fingers away from marking. Now, she closes her eyes and lets you. 

“When can I tell you without you running? When are you gonna stay?” Abby wants to tell you, say it. I won’t leave. I’ll always be here, right with you, forever. 

She doesn’t. She can’t. 

The words die on her tongue, the three little ones she feels but can’t let through. The past hurts haunt her as it disgusts itself as a never ending hangover which she holds it against you. It’s not meant to be cruel, it certainly isn’t fair, but it’s all she can do until time heals the festering wound. 

“I don’t have an answer for you—” Her blue eyes open, her lips ghosting over your again. “But, this, you? It’s just you and me. No one else, darling.” 

For now, it’s enough, but Abby stresses over the day where you’ve had enough cursing at the wind and whatever god sits above. 

One day, somewhere in the near future, she won’t be.

taglist: @plutolovesyou @brackishkittie @nybueckers @tlouloser

wanna be tagged?

[valengory1234]

Am I the only one who thinks Red falls first but Chloe fell harder?

Because neither of them really know what romantic love looks like for them.

But Red knows what her 100% looks like, and she knows when she’s a 100% in. She just doesn’t realize in what. And when she learns? Well does it really change anything? She’s still all in. She knows when she decided to give Chloe her all, even if the feeling was new. Because what feeling wasn’t new at that point? What’s the difference between her first friend and first love, when she’s never experienced either? It’s her first time caring for someone else like this either way. Her first time trusting someone, even if she never had before. And it’s her first time feeling cared for at this level. And it doesn’t matter to her in what way, because she’s never experienced all of the different ways to be cared for.

But Chloe grew up on love stories. The only thing is, she grew up on love stories with charming princes and valiant knights. She grew up seeing her parents in love and both of them were obviously good people. And all of them fell in love at first sight. But even with all of that, romantic love was still a new concept. She knows what giving her all at school looks like, and what 100% looks like when it comes to being a good person and ruler. And she knows it looks similar but not the same. And it’s very different from her devotion to her family. And friendship with Red is so different from her other friendships. The barriers to Red are different and many. The circumstances and reasons are different. Red is not like anyone she’s ever met, but in some ways she feels much closer to her. And so it takes her longer to realize, and it takes longer to hit her. Because love is sudden and at first sight. But not always, but when it sinks in how she truly feels, it definitely feels sudden and extreme. And when she finally realizes she likes Red romantically, she also realizes she still has so much of herself she wants to give her.

[tlbodine]

Stuck? Try junebugging.

I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.

Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?

If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!

What Is Junebugging?

Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.

The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.

How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?

OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:

Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.

Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.

I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.

I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.

Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.

This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.

It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.

Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.

[buckyalpine]

Sweet Dreams Bucky giving his girl free use, and he wakes her as usual, rutting against her in his sleep, so instead of letting him work through it on his own while she lays there dripping wet from his hard cock pressed up against her ass. Maybe she rolls him over, of course he whines a bit in his sleep from the loss of contact but it doesnt last long because you're straddling him in seconds, but he wakes before either of you finish and he's flipping you onto your back and fucking you into the matress. Whispering into your ear the dirty little dreams he was having of you on your knees for him and letting him enjoy his own meal 😏 calling you a good girl and telling you how proud he is of you for taking what you need... though it's really his fault in the first place 🥵🥵

I’m brining needy switch Bucky out for this. 

okay. yes. this has to happen. I love desperate needy Bucky. Also what if the reader had some sweet dreams herself. 

The original concept: Here 

and a lil more here

And now...

You knew Bucky was a super soldier; you quickly learned the super part applied everywhere too. Super cock (but that’s all him, even before the serum). Super loads. Super horny. Super fucking horny. So much so, you find him whining and rutting against you in his sleep, mumbling your name, gripping your hips so he can grind his hard cock against you. 

“Baby?” 

You get no response aside from his little whimpers, he’s deep in his dreams, thinking about railing you, his face burying into your neck, hitching his leg over you while he spoons you from behind. He’s rubbing himself on you, his moans growing louder until he cums in his sweats, getting you both messy in the process because his load is big enough to soak though. You smile to yourself, your pussy clenching around nothing feeling his moments stop, his breathing steadying again and snuggling into you more. 

Sweet baby. 

Anyway, that’s how it starts. Why wake up soaked every night when you can just take care of your baby when he needs you?  Your baby boy was so messy anyway; instead of letting him get cum everywhere, he might as well fill you.

Which makes him more feral than ever. 

*****

Your body stirred, feeling your boyfriends arms warp around you tighter, his face nuzzled into your neck. 

“Mmmh, y/n...” 

He was still asleep, snoring softly in between his whimpers with his hips pressed against your ass. His cock was hard in his boxers, desperately searching for some friction, a sigh slipping from his lips when he rolled over slightly, so he could move better. 

You blinked awake, feeling Bucky’s hard cock rutting against you, his sweet little moans and whimpers making your pussy start to drip. He was desperate, his arms wrapped tightly around your body, humping you as best as he could but you knew what he really needed. 

You gently pull away from his hold, making him whine and whimper in his sleep, his face pouty because he can’t feel you anymore. 

“No mommy...”  He buries his face into the pillow, growing more needy, but his squirming stops when you gently roll him onto his back. He’s the most gorgeous sight imaginable, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, a prominent wet patch where the tip of his cock rests. You tug them down slightly, just enough to free his erection and an adorable content little sigh slips past his lip. 

You carefully climb on top of him, your soaked pussy ready to take care of him, this was exactly why you stopped wearing panties to bed anyway. You lined yourself up, sinking down on his cock, moaning watching the way his face melted into pleasure. You started to roll your hips up and down on his cock, your pussy clenching over the way his brows were furrowed, his moans and whines half mumbled while he kept dreaming. 

“F-faster...” 

Your hands were planted on his chest, feeling his heart race. His hips started to chase more of your warmth, bucking and lifting off the bed, his head lulling to the side. You felt his cock harder, his pulse beating quicker; he was getting close.  You slowed your movements to a filthy grind, loving the way he squirmed and moaned under you, such a needy restless baby. 

“O-oh f-uucckk...mama let me cummm” His voice is strained, his begging made your pussy squeeze him. You giggled at his frustrated face, his hips desperately trying to move from under you. Bucky’s eyes hardly opened, seeing your perfect form wrapped around his cock, he could feel his orgasm right at the tip. He groaned, grabbing and wrapping his arms around you, rolling you over so your body was pinned underneath him. 

“BUCKKYY” You cried out as he started to pound you into the mattress, his thrust unrelenting. You couldn’t control your moans, your vision already cloudy feeling him hit your g-spot repeatedly. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, y’know that?” You could see Bucky’s dom side slip through momentarily, pulling away from your neck to lock his eyes with yours. “Such a good girl, love when you use my cock baby-fuck-so proud of my pretty baby”

Your eyes rolled back, squeezing and fluttering around him, only turning him on more because he knew you were as desperate as him. 

“That’s my girl” He let out a dark chuckle, moaning when he felt his balls throb, tightening against his body “God, use me baby, need you to fuck yourself on me every. Fucking. Night. S’good baby, So. Fucking. Good.” He gave you three harsh thrusts before smashing his lips onto yours, swallowing your moans. 

“You know what I was dreaming about mommy?” He was calling you mommy but your needy baby was too desperate, too pent up to whine and whimper for you anymore. His lips brushed by your ear, nipping it before whispering “Thought about how pretty you’d look sucking me mama, getting on your knees for me” 

“You l-like when i s-suck you baby?” Your moans were strangled as you cupped his face while he gazed down at you, his hands moving to hold onto your hips to fuck you harder. 

“So much baby, mommy’s mouth is perfect” A devilish smirk flashed across his face as he thought about his dream, every inch of your body covered in his cum. “D-dreamt about you- fuck me- dreamt about you swallowing all my cum-fuucckk - want mama to drink my cum-shit” 

You nearly sobbed at how filthy he was, your orgasm right on edge, neither of you were going to last much longer, 

“Would you swallow for me mommy?” 

You nodded, too focused on how his cock felt to be able to speak but it wasn’t good enough. 

“Fuck, say it mama, say you’d drink my cum” 

“Wanna swallow you baby, fuck Bucky I can’t, I’m gonna cum”

Bucky moaned against your neck, feeling your pussy start to throb around him. He’d been desperate to starve his orgasm as long as possible but his balls were getting heavy. He pressed you further into the mattress, rocking his hips into perfectly, barely pulling out so he’d keep you nice and full of him. 

“Fuck thought about eating that pretty pussy out, mommy letting me nurse on her clit, let me taste your pussy, have you ride my face”

“Baby, m’gonna cum” Your felt hot, moaning and crying while Bucky let his pleasure consume his body, his orgasm seconds away from erupting.  

“Bucky, can’t, need to cuum”

His pace grew sloppy, your hands clawing and scratching down his back. 

“Baby boy, m’gonna cum on your cock” 

That set Bucky off, moaning loudly droppings his full body weight onto you. 

“Make a mess with me mommy, cum with me, please? Cum for me y/n, fuck cum, I can’t hold it, Mama, CUM” 

You screamed spreading your legs further for him, your thighs pulled up tight around his waist. Your pussy clenched and throbbed, squelching and dripping onto the bed. Bucky’s eyes rolled back, the head board slamming against the wall with his thrusts as he came in you.

“FUCCK”

You could feel his cock harden in your pussy, streams of cum pouring out of you and onto the sheets. You both laid there, panting and messy, sleep washing over you immediately after. Bucky kept his cock in you as he spooned you from behind, planting sloppy kisses all over your face before burying his face into your hair once again. 

“Good night my babyy” Bucky slurred, softly snoring and clinging onto you while you pressed a kiss onto his palm. 

“Good night baby boy” 

Her dreams 

You could feel his hands all over your body, his cock slamming in and out of you. You moaned, gripping and clinging onto his body, feeling the trimmed hair at the base of his cock rub against your clit. You could feel your pussy clenching, you needed more friction but you couldn’t get it no matter how hard you tried, you were so close, so fucking close, why couldn’t you just climb a little higher...

Bucky blinked awake, feeling your body squirm against his, while you whined in your sleep. Your body was tensed, your heart beating so hard, Bucky was sure he was able to hear it. You felt warmer and Bucky could practically smell how wet you were. He looked over to see your eyes still squeezed shut, you were still fast asleep but your moans and whimpers indicated you were definitely dreaming. 

“Aww, my baby’s having sweet dreams”

He shuffled down the sheets, till his face was between your legs, his shoulders spreading them further apart. Your chest was still heaving, your sopping hole clenching and begging for some type of relief. 

“So pretty’ Bucky smirked, slightly flicking his tongue onto your clit, watching your body jolt at the contact. “such a sensitive little pussy” 

He latched onto your clit, gently suckling and flicking his tongue in circles, loving the way your moans started to grow louder, your body squirming on the bed. 

He grinded himself onto the mattress, he was ready to cum just from eating your pussy out but that wouldn’t be fair, no, he knew just what you needed. He kicked his sweats off, spreading your legs apart so he could line his cock up with your dripping pussy. 

He loved the way your face contorted, feeling the tip of his cock rub through your folds, gently prodding at your entrance without pushing in all the way. 

As soon as your eyes opened, you let out a pornographic moan, feeling Bucky push himself fully inside you, his sparkling blue eyes locking with yours. 

“Tell me what you were dreaming about princess” 

Tags:

@glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge   @samfreakingwinchester  @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @batprincess1013 @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes  @elliebee01

[rainba]

Luka gets in heat you say 👀 what is he like when he is in it and how long does it takes? :3 (And also when is it in the year?)

Yesyes,, his heats start in late December/January, and usually they last about 3 weeks! ^^;; ((Sometimes he has to use up all his vacation days during those weeks… Or paid time off, if it’s considered a ‘condition’ of sorts. Either that or he just works from home and files lots of paperwork for job projects and stuff!)) 

And, man,, during his heats he gets clingy. Like, to an insane degree. He completely forgets the concept of "personal space".

When he goes to bed? He’ll cuddle up close and wrap his tail around you, preventing you from escaping him. If you need to get up in the middle of the night for any reason, he’ll be following you around like a lost puppy while always keeping his hands on you.

When he works from home and does paperwork? You’ll be forced onto his lap, warming his cock and giving him all the attention he needs. He’ll occasionally just mindlessly grind against you and might grope your thighs while he works, sometimes leaving love bites on your neck and shoulders… (*/▽＼*)

Showers? You’ll be taking them with him! Watching TV or scrolling through your phone? He’ll be cuddling you the entire time. Etc. etc. Oh, and on top of that– you won’t be allowed to leave the house. Ever. Groceries will be delivered to his front door, essentials will be ordered online, etc! Hope you enjoy being inside 24/7!! (⌒_⌒;)

Also, if you even think about moving more than six feet away from him, he’ll instinctually start growling at you. And if you ignore him? Expect him to sink his sharp fangs into you!! (He is a little obsessed with seeing his bite marks on your body....)

Plus,, really-fun-fact!!: it doesn’t matter if his beloved is a guy, or if his beloved just can’t get pregnant in general, Luka will insist on breeding you. Whenever he gets particularly horny during his heats, his brain will turn into absolute mush and all he wants to do is just. Cum inside you, over and over again… Multiple times a day. All while telling you that he’s gonna make you bear his children. It’s just in his instincts to breed his partner, poor Luka really can’t think straight when he’s in heat!!

However, if his darling can get pregnant, you’ll definitely have to sneak birth control around him… Even though it’d be really difficult, considering how he’s around you 24/7. If he catches you taking it, he'll punish you for it. Gets really hurt by it and becomes all sensitive. Like... 'what do you mean you don't want to have my kids? Am I not good enough for you? Is that it?' (´-ω-`) .... Then he proceeds to fuck you four times in a row. ☆⌒(> _ <)

When Luka's heat is over, he’ll often act reclusive and ashamed of himself for a while. He can’t believe he has such little control over himself during those 3 weeks… All those embarrassing things he said and did… Shudder…

Soooooo he might avoid you for a few days. But he gets over it eventually (´ ω `♡)

[lauraneedstochill]

Make a move

summary: you think Aemond is too arrogant to woo you, but he’s got some tricks up his sleeve. pairing: Aemond Targaryen x F!Reader words: ~ 6000 warnings: a bit of bickering and teasing, it gets slightly heated (Aemond has a praise kink, but I doubt anyone is surprised), mostly it’s just silly fluff author’s note: this was inspired by “Crazy, stupid, love”, particularly the scene where Emma kisses Ryan (one of my favorite on-screen kisses!) and everything that follows. I recently rewatched the movie and had an idea for this story (also, I may or may not have a thing for men’s hands... you’ve been warned)

You keep mindlessly tapping your fingers on the wooden table, your cup of wine untouched. You don’t really notice the movement, too wrapped up in your thoughts, until your friend Margaret sneers.

“If you don’t stop, I might bite your hand off,” she says, sitting across the table.

“Then I’ll use the other one,” you huff but pause your fidgeting. “Better bite my head off, it will do us both more good.”

“But I like your head very much,” she pouts. “Is this about Thomas again?”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands and thinking back to the conversation you had earlier today with said man. Your emotions are a mix of annoyance and embarrassment as you can’t stop thinking about his words.

“He said the meeting will be of great importance. What if he...? You know,” you mutter, and Margaret huffs.

“I hope he won’t.”

“Hey, you are supposed to be my friend!” you playfully pinch her hand, and she fakes a gasp.

“I am your friend. And as your friend, I think you deserve way more than that sad excuse of a man,” her face gets serious for a second, and you feel your smile waver.

“Mar, you know I don’t have much of a choice,” you breathe out, and your heart sinks at the thought. “He isn’t that bad, really. He’s always been kind to me.”

“Sounds like every girl's dream,” she rolls her eyes. “And you want to settle down for a kind man? Nothing else?”

“What do you think my options are? Please, enlighten me since I’m clearly missing something,” you cross arms on your chest. You know she’s right and she means good, but your frustration gets the best of you.

Luckily, Margaret catches it and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“All I’m saying is that for as long as I can remember you’ve always dreamt of something more,” she extends her hand across the table and lightly squeezes yours. “We’ve been friends since we were little kids, and you are the most loving person out of everyone I know. Should I remind you who taught me how to dance? Protected me against my idiot brothers?” you giggle at the memory. “You’ve got an adventurous spirit and a heart of gold. You deserve an epic love story,” there’s a hint of sadness in her voice.

For a minute you sink into your thoughts again.

“And you think Thomas is not the one?” you sigh.

“He’s epically boring at best,” Margaret takes a sip out of her cup. “I know he’s not the one — and you do, too.”

“My parents approve of him,” you try to argue, but she’s quick to object.

“They only care about your approval. And they mistakenly took your lack of protest for it,” Margaret gives you a gloomy look.

“You are aware that I can’t wait forever, right? I’m not getting any younger.”

“Nor smarter,” she snickers.

“Not everyone is lucky to meet the love of their life at the age of ten-and-two,” you frown. Margaret and Jamie got married three years ago, but they have been betrothed for seven prior to that.

“Fair,” she beams, and you can’t stay irritated for long. They are still ridiculously in love with each other, and you are really happy for her. You just wish to feel that, too. You crave that indescribable feeling of longing and wanting and caring for someone else — and being loved just as much in return.

“Maybe the concept of love is overrated,” you ramble. “It was easy to believe in when I was a kid but... As I am growing older, it’s getting harder to cling to hope, I guess. And I’m trying to make an effort and meet new people and... to show just enough character to not scare them away,” you quote your mother. “Yet all of them just make me feel nothing. At all. And I—” you realize that Margaret isn’t listening, her gaze is on something else behind your back. “Hey, I’m pouring out my heart of gold,” you hiss, and her sight shifts to you.

Before you can question her behavior, she informs. “Someone’s been keeping an eye on you.”

“Margaret, I’m trying to have a serious conversation about my future,” you fight the urge to turn around.

“Maybe this is your future!” she winks, and you grunt at her silliness.

“We are in a tavern out of all places! I’d rather take a kind man as my betrothed than a drunk one,” you’re about to scold her, but your friend’s eyes go wide.

“His hair,” her voice is barely above the whisper. “I can make out the strands of silver,” Margaret slightly leans towards you. “You know what that means?”

“That you had too much wine? Mayhaps we should head home,” you suggest, but your friend protests.

“Sit down!” she shushes. “He is coming over here,” Margaret puts on a smile that looks painfully forged. The never-ending chattering of people around you makes your head hurt, and you’re too tired to play along.

“Mar, it’s been a long day, and the last thing I want is to waste my time entertaining some man’s arrogance and...,” you don’t get to finish because he interrupts your train of thought. 

“What if a man entertains you?” his voice is low and cocky. You close your eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. You don’t want to make a scene in a public place so you pull yourself together, thinking that you can talk your way out of this ridiculous situation.

But when you turn to him, your eyes meeting his, your plan is suddenly forgotten.

He is taller than you, a black cloak covering most of his body and his head, so your attention is naturally drawn to his face. He wears an eyepatch, and you look over his sharp features — his prominent nose, high cheekbones that flow down to the curved contour of lips, plump and alluring. Margaret was right about the hair, but she failed to mention the color of his eye. Taking that into account, it’s not hard to guess that he’s a Targaryen. Which means that he definitely is arrogant.

Well, two can play that game.

You ignore his question and pointedly don’t stand up in his presence.

“To what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I believe the pleasure is all mine,” he is only looking at you.

“We just met, you should not jump to conclusions,” you feel Margaret kicking your leg under the table but dismiss her warning.

“Sharp tongue,” he notes.

“Will this be a problem?” you challenge him.

“On the contrary,” it sounds like he’s actually enjoying it.

It is tricky to read his intentions. But when his gaze is concentrated on you, it makes you feel like there’s no one else in the room, and that sensation is thrilling.

“What brings you here, if I may ask?” you press, trying to ignore the unknown feeling creeping up on you.

“It is a nice tavern, wouldn’t you say so? Since you are here, too.” 

“No, I mean what brings you to our table. There are plenty of others you could’ve graced with your presence.”

“Something must’ve caught my eye,” he says, and you see a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Some thing? Well, the interior isn’t very eye-catching if you ask me. But we might have to disagree on that.”

“You aren’t being very agreeable, it seems.”

“That’s what servants are for, and I’m not one,” you’re being defiant yet it doesn’t bother him.

“Please, do tell me more about yourself,” he swiftly pulls up a nearby chair and sits right next to you, his eye never leaving your face.

“Should you pull another one? For your ego, since it takes quite a lot of space.”

He squints at your words, and the corners of his mouth turn into a grin.

“I think we have that in common,” he bites back, but there’s no anger in his voice. If anything, the man looks curious, and you have to admit that you don’t take offense at his wit.

“Are there any other far-reaching conclusions that you managed to come up to?” you turn your body to him, so now you two are opposite each other.

“I only got here a few minutes ago. But I am a great observer should you give me a little more time.”

“Am I supposed to take your word for it? You are not as convincing as you think,” you impugn, so he pauses briefly.

“You don’t trust people easily, do you? How’s that for an observation,” his voice gets quiet, but his gaze is piercing.

“Men,” you correct him. “I don’t trust men.”

“Any of them dared to break your trust?” he gets a little closer, and you instinctively gravitate toward him.

“That would’ve required them to gain my trust first,” you retort.

“And what would it take for me to do so?”

“Do you expect me to make it easy? That’s not very observant of you,” your grin matches his own.

“Nothing good comes easy,” he murmurs, and you involuntarily lay your eyes on his lips. “But I expect it to be worth it.”

You feel a pull toward him, something that’s hard to describe but oh so natural to give into. His confidence isn’t intimidating but rather attractive, and you can’t help but notice how his gaze warms up your whole body. He makes you feel wanted without even doing anything.

But then you think of Thomas. Of the upcoming meeting and your future that depends on it. And you know you can’t throw it all away for some silly conversation with a self-confident stranger. No matter how enjoyable it seems to be.

You bite your lip and look away from him.

“That is enough entertainment for today,” you put some distance between you two. When you give him a quick glance, you catch a shadow of disappointment on his face.

“Didn’t take you for a quitter,” the blond comments.

“You should manage your expectations.”

“Maybe I should manage yours,” he has some nerve. 

“That would be very time-consuming,” you suddenly realize that he’s sitting in your way, and it looks like he isn’t going to move.

“Are you in a rush?”

“I am” — “She isn’t,” you and Margaret say at the same time. You feel your cheeks heating up as you give her a death stare.

“Has anyone told you that you look charming when you are embarrassed?” he remarks, and you want to wipe the smirk off his face. Preferably with your lips. You mentally scold yourself and push that thought away.

“Does this usually work for you?” you get up, thinking of a way out.

“You tell me,” he leans back on his chair with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly aware that he's blocking your exit.

“Cornering women in taverns is your way of courting?” you think how to distract him, but nothing springs to mind. “And then what, you just drag them into your man cave?”

“They come voluntarily,” it looks like your words struck a chord, but he keeps up the facade of indifference. “I happen to live nearby,” he notes casually.

“We both know that’s not exactly true,” you scoff with a tilt of your head. You are positive that the walk to the castle will take at least thirty minutes.

“Want to bet?” he sits up straight.

“And what do I get out of this?”

He looks you up and down before answering:

“Me.”

He’s pushing his luck at this point.

You glance around and take note that the tavern is packed with people, and no one is paying attention to you. You also realize that Margaret already sneaked out and is standing at the door. She raises an eyebrow with a silent question, as if asking what are you going to do.

That’s when you decide you can push some boundaries, too.

Your eyes are back on the man in front of you. Without giving it a second thought, you step closer to him.

“Was that supposed to make me weak in the knees?” you whisper, and his face expression melts into an amused one. Seizing the moment, you yank your dress up and throw a leg over him. He immediately looks down at the exposed skin of your thigh, his mouth is slightly agape as he’s now sitting between your legs. You see him tensing up, his fingers clenching into fists as if he’s fighting the urge to put his hands on you. You think that if he does, you are not going anywhere. You wouldn’t want to go anywhere — the realization makes you tremble, and you know that you don’t have much time.

You boldly place your hand on his shoulder, pressing him back onto the chair.

“I hate to break it to you, but you are not that impressive,” you say, throwing your other leg over him and successfully moving away.

When you get to the door, the look on Margaret’s face is priceless. You grab her by the arm and drag her outside in a hurry, merging into the crowd of passers-by.

“I need you to explain what the h—” she starts, but you interrupt her.

“Please, don’t,” you snarl. “Don’t say anything, just give me five minutes.”

You can’t even explain to yourself what happened back there and why you did that. You think of his gaze roaming over your body, the depth of his voice and the curves of his lips. You tell yourself that you need to get him out of your head as soon as possible. You fail miserably.

One week later, you are dining with Thomas at his house, and yet your mind wanders back to the arrogant one-eyed man. Aemond, as you’ve learned — and it wasn’t that you wanted to, but fate had other plans.

And by fate, you mean Margaret.

Once her five minutes were up, she couldn’t stop talking. By the time you came home, you got his whole backstory — the second-born son of the King, has two brothers and two sisters, rides the biggest dragon in the world. Overly confident, stubborn, wears an eyepatch because he doesn’t want to scare the ladies of the court. Usually doesn’t talk much.

Unlike Thomas who gathered his whole family and can’t stop blabbing. You struggle to participate in their conversation, giving polite smiles left and right. You don’t know what to expect of the evening, and it makes you nervous. And not in a good way. All of a sudden the possibility of marrying Thomas doesn’t seem to be the best.

From the corner of your eye, you catch him standing up, clearly readying himself for a speech. He has a manner of pursing his lips every time he’s agitated, and it looks weird. That’s also how it felt when he kissed you, which is probably the reason you haven’t done much kissing after that. You wonder what it’s like to kiss Aemond. Just thinking of it makes your heart rate speed up, and you nervously gulp half a cup of wine.

“I gathered all of you today to make an important announcement,” he starts his pompous monologue, “that may not come as a surprise to some of you.”

You cautiously look at the door.

“But, as of recently, I received inspiration to change the course of my life. And I decided to devote myself to the service of Gods.”

You nearly choke on your drink. In all the years you’ve known Thomas, he’s never been to the Sept once.

“And I wanted to grant you this privilege to be the first ones to know.”

You’ve got to be kidding me. You wait for any other announcements — literally anything else — but Thomas goes back to chattering, also accepting pointless congratulations. It takes you ten painfully long minutes to get a chance to talk to him alone.

“May I have a word?” you inquire, and the two of you move to the far end of the room.

“It is about your speech,” you clarify. “It might sound silly, but I thought that you were planning... Um,” you’re trying to formulate your concerns. “I was wondering, how would you describe our relationship? Or the prospect of it, I should say,” you give him a tight smile.

“Oh,” his face pales slightly.

Your facial expression mirrors his. Oh?

“I am actually glad you asked,” he awkwardly takes your hands in his, and you notice how sweaty his palms are.

“You know, you’ve been a great companion of mine,” his voice is as weak as his smile. “And I am forever grateful for those moments that we shared as they only brought me joy,” his hands feel like jelly, and you don’t want to hold them. Like, ever. “But now that I’m choosing to follow my destiny,” you do your best to suppress a chuckle at his dramatic phrasing. “I decided that... I need some time to figure out how I feel. About us.”

You look at him, dumbfounded, his words sinking in.

“You need... some time?” you drawl, feeling an emotion bubbling up in your chest. You are not sure what it is. “You? Need to think about us?” you repeat, and he nods, his brows furrowed at your reaction.

There is a moment of silence, and then you hear yourself laughing. You can’t control it as you’re overcome with emotion, your laughter only growing stronger, to the point of you tearing up a bit. The emotion is relief. There’s no way you’ll ever marry this man.

“I am the one who should be glad, Thomas,” you shake his hand while he seems wildly perplexed, all of his guests staring at you. “Thank you for your honesty, really. I hope you will be successful in all your endeavors, marriage included.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but you already turned around.

“Where are you going?!”

You stop for a second, your thoughts rushing back to the conversation with Margaret. To that evening in the tavern.

“I have a meeting, it’s of great importance,” you say and quicken your pace. You reach the tavern when it’s already getting dark, the weather is cloudy, and your coat is wet in the light drizzle. You walk in a daze as you’re torn between being excited and anxious. There is a chance that Aemond won’t be there. That he doesn’t remember you. That he’s with someone else. That he had a change of heart. That he...

You spot him almost immediately after you walk in.

Coincidentally or not, he’s sitting at the exact same table you were at the first time you met. You stay still as his eye absentmindedly wanders around the room and then lands on you. Aemond stands up — way too quickly — and you see a well-known grin growing on his face. Your eyes dart to his lips, and the question pops up in your head again.

You feel the pull — and before you can think, your body follows it.

He keeps his gaze on you, his brows rising at the speed of your approach. You cover the distance in a heartbeat, your hands reaching his face, and he slightly flinches, probably because your fingers are cold from being outside. And then you stand on your tiptoes and crash your lips onto his without any hesitation.

He gasps, surprised and frozen for a moment. It takes just a couple of seconds for him to melt into the kiss, and his hands are instantly on your waist, pulling you closer to him. Aemond’s lips are way softer than you anticipated — and it’s the only thing on your mind. His mouth on yours, warm and exploring, the slow pacing of the kiss that leaves you lightheaded and yearning for more.

He presses your body into his, lifting you up with ease, and your feet leave the ground. You tug his hood further down so it covers most of your face, too, and then you slide your thumb up the sharp line of his jaw. His tongue runs over your lower lip, and you feel a wave of heat rising in your stomach.

You pull away before you can take it too far.

“You remember me?” you ask him, panting.

He hums, his eye focused on your lips.

“Still believe that nothing good comes easy?” you mimic his words, but he ignores your jesting.

“Definitely,” Aemond looks you in the eyes, keeping his hands on your waist.

“Is the bet still on?”

“Yes,” the corners of his mouth curl.

“Lead the way, then.” By the time you reach the castle, the rain is pouring in full force, and your clothes are drenched. The two of you rush through the streets, your hands intertwined, and it feels like it only takes about ten minutes before you sneak into his chambers, both out of breath and giggling.

Only when you take a look around the unfamiliar settings, it suddenly dawns on you that you are all alone with a man you barely know, and your bravery starts fading away.

Whether Aemond notices the change in your mood or not, you can’t tell, but he respectfully keeps his distance.

“You need to get out of these,” he points at your coat and dress. “They’re soaking wet.”

“Is this your way of trying to get me naked?” you eye him suspiciously, making Aemond scoff.

“I just don’t want you to catch a cold,” he honestly states. “I’ll fetch you a shirt of mine.” Sensing your doubts, he adds, “Don’t worry, it is long enough.”

He brings you the shirt and politely turns away, going to the other end of the room to light the fireplace. On his way there, he removes the cloak and the jacket, his upper body only covered by the same piece of clothing he gave you. You watch him carefully, noting the movement of his back muscles as he bends down.

The sparkling glow of fire brings you back to reality, and you hastily remove your clothes, leaving the undergarments on, which are luckily dry. You put on his shirt, and it barely reaches your knees, but the material feels nice and comfortable. While Aemond is still busy with the fire, you glance over his room.

It’s spacious and simply furnished, and your attention is drawn to a couple of shelves nearby. You look at the tightly packed rows of books, some of the hardcovers are worn out from old age. You catch the familiar naming and pull one of them out, gently flipping through the pages.

“You take interest in philosophy?” his voice startles you. You missed the moment he came back, and when you take your eyes off the book, you see him leaning on the nearest shelf, looking at you inquisitively.

“I do, indeed,” you confess. “And I read this one so many times, my own copy pretty much fell apart.”

“You can take mine,” Aemond offers.

You notice that despite his cockiness, his presence is actually very calming. Everything is easy with him — striking up conversations, making jokes. Taking his hand in yours, running in the rain. Kissing.

Your heart skips a beat, and you sheepishly move on to another topic:

“Shouldn’t you change as well?” you refer to his shirt, but he shakes his head.

“No need.”

“Oh, was it the Targaryen’s dragon blood that helped you dry up?” you tend to jest when you’re nervous, and right now is no exception.

“My cloak is too thick for the water to soak through. But I like your version, too,” his lips ripple into a smile.

You can help but smile back. “Thank you for the shirt.”

“It looks really good on you,” the words smoothly roll off his tongue and ignite the familiar burning deep in your core. He keeps his gaze on your face, your eyes locking for a moment.

You look away first, letting out a timid laugh.

“I must admit, I like this way of courting better,” you place the book back. “But you can cut it short. What’s your move?”

“My... move?” Aemond gives you a quizzical look.

“Yes, your big move. Show me,” you request eagerly.

“Don’t know what you're talking about,” he looks down, his aplomb faltering.

“What do you usually do to impress a lady?”

“I don’t really need to do anything,” Aemond shrugs.

“What a humble individual you are,” you chuckle and give him a minute to think. “So what is it?”

“I just told you...,” it seems like he’s trying to dodge the topic, which only sparks your curiosity.

“Oh, come on! You princes always have a move. Let me guess, you speak to her in High Valyrian? Men like to talk big,” he snorts. “No? Try to win her over with your...,” you gesture at his bookshelves, “...precious collection? Although it’s risky because what if she’s not into reading, that would be awkward,” and then it hits you. “Wait, it’s the dragon, isn’t it? You show her your dragon? Got to make sure it’s well-fed, though, otherwise you’ll have a date with a roasted —”

“It’s my sword,” he cuts you off, and you swear you can see him blushing at the confession.

“Um, your sword? Is this a metaphor for someth—”

“Gods, no. I mean the actual sword. The one you grip with your hand and poke people with.”

“That description didn’t help,” you tease, and he groans.

“You know what I mean,” Aemond gives you a pointed look, but his face flushed pink, and you can’t take him seriously.

“I do, you just look really charming when you are embarrassed,” you say cheekily, which makes him huff. “My apologies. Please elaborate on the sword. How does it work?”

Aemond hesitates but then realizes that you will never let it go, so he gives in.

“I bring my training into the conversation. And then I... show them,” he talks with his hands when he’s uncomfortable, and you find it endearing.

“And that’s it?”

“Pretty much,” Aemond nods.

“They watch you train, and that’s what does it for the ladies?”

“I don’t know why, I never gave it much thought.”

“Well, someone should. Can’t imagine it ever working on me.”

You feel a sudden shift in the air as Aemond slowly looks up at you. You’re standing a few feet apart, and he’s yet to initiate anything, but once again, it only takes a look from him for you to feel a familiar flare-up of the tantalizing desire.

“I’m not going to take you to the training yard in the pouring rain,” he concludes.

“But it’s not about the place, is it? Must be something about you,” now you’re the one champing at the bit to see what the fuss is all about.

“I don’t have a sword on me.”

“Opt for something smaller, I am sure it will do,” you hint at the dagger that you’ve seen him carry, and wait expectantly for him to agree.

Aemond reluctantly contemplates your suggestion, then sighs and goes to get his dagger which he left next to the cloak.

You wonder if the ladies are attracted to his competitive spirit. If they enjoy the feeling of danger they get at the sight of steel, the cold shine of it, the clang of swords. Or maybe it’s the urge to take sides and root for the winner?

And then you see Aemond rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, — and your breath suddenly hitches.

The room is lit by fire, the warmth of it illuminating his skin, casting shadows that frame every muscle of his arms. He takes the dagger in one hand, the movement fast and honed, and your eyes follow it. You notice the scattering of his veins that go down his wrist and into his palm, the blue lines tightening with every swirl. The silver blade catches and reflects the light, but you are focused solely on his flexing muscles.

He’s maneuvering the dagger with ease, almost carelessly, yet you know that every motion is well-practiced through years of training. His long fingers grip the hilt, revealing the sharp outline of his knuckles. The steel silently cuts through the air, again and again, but your eyes are glued to his hands. The way they move, the power that he holds in them. The things he can do with them, with his fingers. The way they will feel on your bare skin and in your... You swallow, letting out a shuddered breath.

“Are you weak in the knees yet?” his words bring you out of your trance, and you blink a couple of times, trying to shake the feeling off. Your body is so heated, you’re surprised you are not sweating yet.

“Is this the point when the ladies throw themselves at you?” your voice is hoarse, and you take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself.

Aemond stops his movements. You feel your skin tingling with anticipation, waiting for him to finish what he started, but he doesn’t budge. For a short while, you’re taken aback by the change in his demeanor — and the realization strikes you.

“Wait, how many ladies were here before me?”

“I never said I take them here,” he puts the dagger back in its sheath, averting his gaze.

“But you told me that you do your... thing with the sword for them.”

“In the training yard, with other people around us, yes.”

“So then you just leave them all hot and bothered? Aemond, that is cruel,” his actions confuse you, but while you’re looking for an explanation, he turns back to you and finally meets your gaze.

“It would’ve been cruel to lead them on when I feel nothing for them,” he reveals, and you discern the raw honesty in his words. And you know exactly what he means. It’s the tiresome attempts to find someone who will spark your interest, to spot a connection, all of those efforts leading nowhere and making you feel like you’re the one at fault. But you aren’t — and he isn’t, either.

Aemond looks almost ashamed of letting out something so personal, but you welcome the intimacy of this moment.

“I shall consider myself lucky, then,” you say softly.

He gives you that same look that makes you feel like the world around you disappears.

“You are... something else,” Aemond mumbles.

You guess that he isn’t used to being straightforward about his feelings, nor does he know how to express his affection with words. You really, really want to kiss him again.

The boyish grin reappears on his face.

“Did you mean I left you all hot and bothered?” Aemond narrows his eye.

“I never said that,” you smile coyly. “Maybe you should’ve tried a little harder.”

“I happen to have some tricks up my sleeve,” he takes a step towards you and, before you can ask for details, you feel his fingers on your ribs as he starts tickling you, and you immediately burst into laughter.

His touches are light, fingers grazing against your clothed skin as he subtly moves you further into the room until your legs bump into his bed. Losing your balance, you fall on it, your back met with the fluffiness of thick blankets. Aemond hovers over you, and you can’t stop giggling, trying to wiggle away from his tickles.

Wrapped up in the moment, you make a careless move, your hand brushing up his cheek — and you suddenly see a bright gleam of blue on the right side of his face.

Aemond freezes at the spot, halting his actions, and momentarily flinches away. You are gawking at the sapphire, unable to form a coherent sentence.

He makes a move to fix his eyepatch, but you stop him.

“Don’t,” you catch his hand mid-air, your grip delicate but firm, and he doesn’t fight it. You would’ve been surprised by your own quick reaction if only your mind wasn’t completely occupied with the sight in front of you.

It looks like the gem absorbs all the light in the room, shimmering with various shades of blue. It’s cut in a way to imitate a surface of an eye, the sides of the sapphire polished and blending into each other. There is a depth to it, bright sparkles drowning in a color that’s close to black, and the spillovers are mesmerizing.

You bring your hand closer to his face, to the area that’s been left covered and unloved, and touch the skin with the tip of your finger. He lets you.

“Wow,” you breathe out, gently tracing his scar. “This is the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

Aemond looks at you in disbelief, his eye fixed on your face, and his lips parted.

“...What?” he manages to ask.

“You look like a pirate. A really badass... sky pirate?” you suggest, and he lets out a light chuckle, still not entirely sure he believes you.

So you shamelessly continue.

“A pirate with his own dragon. The largest one in the Seven Kingdoms as I’ve heard,” you can almost feel him swelling with pride. “He charms the ladies with his fighting skills — and has a gem for an eye? Incredibly irresistible,” your index finger circles the area around his sapphire.

He listens attentively, holding his breath.

“A prince who is as good with his sword as he is with his wit, fond of reading and isn’t averse to mischief. Any lady of the court would’ve been fortunate to get a hold of such treasure,” you remove the eyepatch and tenderly cradle his face. “Yet I am the one who’s been honored to see all of him,” you glance from the bright gemstone to his eye and back. “Honestly, it’s kind of hard to pick which one I like more...,” you are barely able to notice him sharply lower his head, and your words die down.

Without a warning, Aemond covers your lips with his, the intensity of the kiss pulling the air out of your lungs right away. He’s been holding back the first time, but he isn’t now, and the passion sets you ablaze. His tongue slips into your mouth, easily tangling with yours, and you moan at the contact. Aemond skilfully unbuttons your shirt, and the second his fingers touch your skin, you shiver, the quivering sensation washing over you. His hands slowly slide down your ribcage, tracing the curves of your body, making your back arch, your chest flush against his, your heart pounding. He contours the bend of your hips, then presses his palms there, his touches rough, claiming, burning. You move your fingers up the base of his neck and run them through his hair, and he releases a shaky sigh. Aemond relishes in the feeling of your compliance, the fervor of it, your body being so needy and welcoming, until you are both gasping for air.

“Was that impressive enough?” he rasps, and you look up at him through your lashes, spellbound and breathless. His pupil is dilated, gaze clouded with lust, your noses adjoin.

“Yeah-yes. Yes, very,” you utter, at a loss for words.

“Good. Because I’m about to outdo myself,” he tightens his grip on your thighs, picking you up and moving into the middle of the bed. Your head barely touches the pillow when his lips are on yours again.

🔥 my masterlist

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes

[feiandart]

The answer quickly ends up on the list of those that do not need to be expressed: it is not even clear which of the two bridged the distance between their lips, at one point they seem to have met halfway as if they had been waiting for nothing else for days. Maybe that's how it really is: Aziraphale's gazes never lacked that vague aura of desire whenever his eyes grazed Anthony's mouth for an instant, and the latter, on the other hand, never made a secret of his lust. But he was patient, had been for weeks and months, and now that he was allowed to kiss him... Never mind the pact, because all the unclaimed kisses he has put aside as if he were saving for better times: and this is probably one of those now, because his mouth is warm and needy, and Aziraphale's lips are inviting and accommodating, guiding and following him at the same time, conceding themselves without fear and asking, asking for more with every slight sigh. Anthony has no concept of his body when he kisses Aziraphale. He does not know where to put his hands and legs, he does not know how he finds himself straddling the Lord's body, he does not know when his fingers cling to his shoulders or sink into his soft curls. All he is aware of are the Lord's hands on his hips and back, in a firm grip that holds him in place, the tip of the nose pressing against his cheek and Aziraphale's lips moulding to his own in a moist but sterile kiss, which is all Anthony has ever wanted and at the same time nowhere near enough. Then he ventures like an adventurer into the depths of a dangerous cave, opens his lips and for the first time, at last, on the tip of his tongue touches Aziraphale's sugary mouth. It is an imperceptible touch, really, it is not invasive, but it is an invitation, a request - perhaps a little plea, an attempt to have something more, just a little more... Aziraphale tightens his grip on Anthony's hips for a moment and pauses in that kiss as if he is still putting his mind to it and cannot let go, as if he is anchored with his whole body to reason, and the artist sees the danger there. In a moment of lucidity as swift as it is instinctive, he makes a decision and throws precautions to hell. He presses his mouth to the Lord's, lips parted as he captures his lower lip and slowly sucks it, teases it with his teeth and releases it. Hot breath on the offended skin. Then he tries again, and even though Aziraphale has stopped responding to the kiss Anthony insists, moves his lips over the blond's, does not stop, feels the Lord's strong fingers tighten on the fabric of his shirt in a silent prayer that he has no intention of listening to. "I can hear you thinking," Anthony whispers without stopping kissing him, bending his head a little more, pressing his body to Aziraphale's in a warm invitation, yet another. "Don't, please, don't," he whispers, and in the pleading tone he uses there is a hint of desperation he cannot control. He clings to what he has earned with all his might and has no intention of letting go. And he does well.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - The Industry is Having Issues But the Spice Spicy Must Flow

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) eps 1-2 of 10 - One of those "he's dead Jim so time travel" thingames starring MaxNat. I'm over this concept but I do enjoy MaxNat. Phupha (Gun) and Khram (Nat) love each other but Phupha is murdered. Then Khram is pulled to a parallel world where, years ago, Khram and Tai (Max) were in love. However, Khram was killed by Tai’s dad. Now Tai finds alter-Khram. But then there is ALSO an alter-Phupha to deal with. (Phupha is played by Gun Thanawat who was Khom, the repressed butler bodyguard from Unforgotten Night. We like this, but we scared of the love triangle aspect.) Did that make sense? Yeah, okay, see what I mean?

Initial thoughts?

The subs are troubling but I’m enjoying this show a lot. It’s nice to see MaxNat get something meaty to sink their teeth into - that’s not just each other. Also it’s so smart of them to give us a fully fleshed out entire episode developing the alter romance rather than just a separation + death. It makes Khram’s grief and motivation that much more believable. Also it’s really nice to see Nat have good chemistry with other actors. 

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 3 of 8 (10?) - I'm still enjoying it. But Two Worlds is objectively better. So this one has lost ranking. Also, unexpectedly chili (the name of my heavy metal Thai cover band).

Lovey switchy and verse main couple too.

This is all quite pleasing.

The bit where the hosts pretend to be a BL couple actor ship was epic on so many levels.

Also unsettling.

All sex work is performative, and in a way there is something more honest about this depiction, in this setting, than what BL actors are made to do on the promo circuit. Which then begs the question, how different is BL from sex work? That's the unsettling bit, for me anyway. Not to slam on sex work AT ALL, we pro-the-true-pros on this damn blog, but actors have been shaded by association with True Professionals for a very long time and BL has already had one epic shut down in this regard. (See the PerthSaint scandal around Love By Chance, no I will not explain.) Where was I? Oh yes, so anyway, see the Gossip section for the part where they better be paid either way!

Also, since I'm a warped fucker, I found this scene funny.

And then hilarious when all of those BL tropes were just trotted out. Like a greatest hits reel.

Truly beyond meta. (How Absolute BL of them.)

Note he’s even standing in yaoi's patented "hands in pocket with the shoulders back"? 

Meanwhile, the gayest bridge in Thailand made its quarterly appearance:

And lip serviced was paid to the most touristy romantic things you can do in Bangkok.

And I mean lip service literally. 

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) ep 5 of 8 - I’m still enjoying it but getting more and more nervous. We getting too close to Promise territory for comfort. EXPLAIN Ji’s reticence well and do it now or risk audience mistrust. We have to be given a GOOD reason for Ji's behavior, or he'll be irredeemable.

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 8 of 12 - NO SINGING. Yes smiley kisses and good communication and a nice healthy relationship. But no singing!

1000 Years Old ep 6 of 12 - Dropping in the ranks. I’m sorry it’s just gotten boring. It has, however, inspired me to invest in my own ridiculous cream fuzzy sweater. Which I plan to wear with leather trousers and huge stumpy boots, like the Kpop queer I truly am. Or do I mean vampire? 

Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) ep 1 of 6 - Seems to be an excuse for a small posse of Thai actors to wander around Tokyo playing tourist and sing in public . Someone stop them?

“Most people think this kind of thing is bad manners .”

Anyway, it’s v boring. I’ll give it one more ep but I suspect I’ll DNF.

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) eps 1-2 of 6 - Meh. This is also looking suspiciously DNF-a-licious.  

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube & Viki) ep 5 of 11 - It's brilliant. I love it. I'm ready to hurt. Let’s do this thing. 

Distribution note: This one has been picked up and is also airing on Viki now, so it may lose YT distribution in soem territories. I like Youku's hard subs better than Viki's subs, but that's a matter of preference not information since I don't speak Mandarin.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 3 of 6 - It is good. Every week I like this show a little more. I'm enjoying a reunion romance explored in Japan's quintessentially contemplative yet slightly surreal way. The juxtaposition of the tenderness of the sex scene with this Japanese brand of authenticity was oddly elegant - for lack of a better way of putting it. All in all, this is a good show. Thought provoking. Stylish.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 9 of 10 - It remains lovely but they sure are reusing a lot of footage. Also, this was a classic penultimate doom episode. I do wonder how they are going to resolve this show ethically.

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 6 of 8 - It is what it is, and it isn’t my style of show no matter what country of origin. Oddly that's one of the reasons I don't like it. Anyone could have made this, it's not as Japanese as I want it to be, it's just indie film club high school angst. Yawn.

I watched it, finally

The Servant and the Young Master (Vietnam YouTube) 7 eps - I dislike vertical filming, but I kind of enjoyed this show as a BL. I like class conflict romances. For me the rich kid is a bit too dictatorial (edges into bulling), but it’s kinda works. It’s sparse and underdeveloped and a bit plotless, but mildly entertaining. If you're missing Vietnamese BL you might give it a try. 6/10 

Began Beginning (Myanmar YouTube) 8eps - A Burmese BL that I had thoughts about but actually ended up recommending. Read the saga here:

It's done, ready to binge, but I suck

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

It's airing but...

Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) ep 1 of ? - on one hand it's micro-installment vertical, on the other it's adorable and from Taiwan. I blame @heretherebedork entirely for my conundrum. As indeed, I did for My Type back in the day. (That was Nat Chen's first BL, yes of Kiseki: Dear To Me fame.) So I think I will also simply lean on Here to let me know when it's done and binge all at once. It's just too much to ask me to keep up with 2 minute pieces, I don't have that kind of endurance training, not even for BL.

Time the series (Tue Gaga/YT) 10 eps - it's finished now, I dropped it at ep 4. Should I bother?

A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - I watched the first ep but grey is too much work for this inferior of a show. I may pick up and binge if it gets distribution but for now, it gets a DNF from me. KimCop might have held this crap together but Kim without Cop? No thank you.

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing for some reason.

Man Suang that MileApo vehicle from last year is coming to Netflix in the USA. I haven't heard much about it and since the KP stans would have lost their tiny minds if it was any good at all, I'm assuming it's not good at all.

Gossip

Thai BL actor Yoon breaks with his former company and talks about some very very VERY shady goings on in the Thai BL industry. Including not being paid.

And whacha know, same thing happening in Korean BL.

Have I mentioned recently how much I hate the film industry?

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting Soon

3/31 Only Boo! (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, baby boy idol can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

4/1 Love is like a Cat (Korea ????) 12 eps - This completed filming Aug 2022(!) which means there have been serious problems with post-production. This is another of Silkwood's Korean+Thai colab projects. Mew Suppasit plays a rookie film star, called the Cat Prince (for his cold arrogance) who goes up against a charismatic puppyish animal daycare director (JM of JUST B). There is also a side romance (love triangle?) with a veterinarian. Geonu of JUST B is also in the cast.

I wonder if this was part of the hold up, with Geonu on Build Up right now, they might have tried to muffle this one. Or maybe it's just that bad...

4/3 We Are (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN!

Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV?) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner), Best and frest face, news here.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS

Without ghost girl.

With ghost girl.

I think she may be my favorite part of 1000 Years.

CLASSIC tsundere seme description of a sunshine uke. Like classic'est of classic. (Two Worlds)

Is there such a thing as a tired trope in a BL? Since it is a genre that is made up entirely of tropes quilted together? Your philosophical question for today brought to you by Deep Night's kabedon (Japanese trope) + punishment threat (Thai trope).

Love me a lap sit moment. (City of Stars)

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy.

[hansensgirl]

summary. | The frat boy you have a crush on shoots his shot in the worst way ever.

prompts. | Johnny Storm + College/University + “I thought you hated me.” + Stalking, requested by Anonymous.

pairing. | dark!Johnny Storm x fem!reader.

warnings. | NON/DUBCON, stalking, leaving notes and flowers, spying, mentions of female masturbation, johnny is a pervert (he gets a boner), delusion, mild roughness, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

author’s note. | this is a part of my Dark Concepts (2023) request form. thank you for taking part in this event! please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog. MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY! taglist: @hansensfics.

You sigh as you make your way back to your apartment, hours of studying and sitting in one place sinking into your bones. The cold winter only adds to your aches. Your boots crunch the snow beneath you as other students walk in different directions, each with their own goals. You swear you feel a set of eyes on you, but you shrug it off.

You know that most of the boys live in the frathouses, the ones you’ve only visited every now and then with some people who don’t consider friends or strangers. You always left early once the smell of beer, sweat, and Axe body spray became overwhelming.

But one man always seems to be wherever you are—Johnny Storm. Everyone knows him as the party and playboy, but you don’t really care. You just want to steer clear of trouble—while also getting a good look at the brunet—and get these few years of your life out of the way.

You enter the building, then your flat and undress, cracking stiff joints and stretching your unused muscles. You can only hope you’ll fall asleep quickly tonight, but you’re always restless. 

Throwing yourself on your bed, you pull your phone out and mindlessly scroll on Instagram. Posts of perfection and partying fill your feed, and it seems as though Johnny is in each of them. When you spot him, your heart flutters. 

It’s hard not to crush on him—nearly every girl on campus feels some way about him. You would never act on those feelings, though.

You turn your phone off and close your eyes, resting on your back with your limbs bent and stretched in different ways. But you don’t find sleep, not when a voice speaks up.

“I thought you hated me,” Johnny says, and you’re startled. With a shout, you jump up. “That you never wanted a thing to do with me. That you thought you were too good for a guy like me,” he continues, and you see that he’s in nothing but a towel that covers his lower half.

You can tell that he’s hard with the way his cock bulges under the fluffy white fabric. The rest of his well-built body is wet with water, and you realize he must’ve used your bathroom to take a shower. You’re confused—how did he get in? How long has he been here? “But I guess we feel the same way about each other. That’s why you broke it off with Steve, right?” Johnny chuckles, and as he reveals new, private information, you grow scared. You say nothing to him. “I broke it off with all my other girlfriends. I only got eyes for you, baby,” he smirks, moving to join you on the bed.

You scoot upwards and hug your knees, angling your feet so you won’t struggle as much if you need to run.

“C’mon, don’t be like that. I’ve seen you use that bullet vibe, moaning and begging… You’re filthier than I thought,” Johnny tells you, and your eyes flash to the bedside drawer on instinct. What the fuck? “But we can take it slow. Did you get my flowers? And my notes?” he questions.

At the mention, you recall the bouquets and envelopes that have shown up at your door almost daily. You assumed it was a case of mixed-up doors or addresses, so you only ever threw them out, not bothering with them too much.

When you don’t answer, Johnny sighs. “I knew it. Don’t worry, I can re-order them. I took photos of all the cards. It could be a date. I’ll read all my letters, and we can cuddle—whaddya think?”

“I think you’re crazy and need to leave, Johnny. I won’t report you, I swear. This must be some prank, right?” you scoff, but your hands tremble in fear. Johnny pouts. “How about tonight? I’m here, aren’t I?” he asks, ignoring your words.

Suddenly, he grabs your hands and squeezes them tightly, almost as if in warning. He lifts them up and presses kisses on each knuckle, smiling. You don’t know what else to do—what he’s capable of. He has the money and connections—and now, you. 

[prodbyton]

Pervy wonbin at a party and he fucks you

actually writing a wonbin fic with almost the same concept as this…

but imagine wonbin who’s secretly been eyeing you for a few months. you two had a class together in university, and you had sat next to him first day of the semester when there were no more seats taken. he was quiet around you, and you just assumed he was shy.

he wasn’t usually this quiet, but you made him nervous. the way your perfume was so strong and it was all he could smell for the hour and a half class, and even after you had left the room the scent of you would linger in his nose. he would go to his room, look up your instagram handle and jerk off to your highlights each time.

so when he saw you at this party, in clothes that you didn’t wear in class, he knew he had to have you. the skirt you wore was so short, and he was praying that he could get close enough to you to get you to bend over in front of him. and the top that hugged your tits perfectly, he just wanted to put his hands on them, and his mouth.

after a few shots, you were starting to feel the liquor. everyone in the party had moved to a different area to play beer pong, but you opted on being a moral support for your friends. a warm hand grazed your waist and a soft excuse me left the mystery persons lips as they tried to move next to you. before you could retaliate to the unwanted touching, you realized who the person was.

“wonbin?” you look up confused, not expecting to see the boy at a party like this. he was so quiet next to you in class you wouldn’t think that he’d hang around people this wild.

“y/n!” his voice was almost slurred, and you could tell the both of you definitely had a couple drinks in your systems.

“what are you doing at a party like this?”

“oh yknow… im friends with the host. i’ve never seen you at one of his parties before, what brings you here?” he eyes you, and you suddenly feel shy under his gaze. he didn’t have that soft look to him right now like he usually had. it was dark, and you didn’t know if you liked it.

“free alcohol, hot guys, the usual college party!” you laugh, and he nods along with you before you turn back to watch the game of beer pong in front of you.

getting to the bottom of your cup of vodka redbull, you try to push your way through the crowd of people to get to the kitchen. little did you know, that wonbin was following close behind you. once you were in the kitchen, you finally noticed the long haired boy behind you. truthfully he was checking you out the entire time, the way you walked with so much confidence really entertained him. of course when you turned to see him, he looked away as if he wasn’t even there.

“didn’t know you were following me,” your voice was soft while you looked up at him, and he still had that dark look in his eyes.

“well yeah, wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost. also… we have the good alcohol stored downstairs if you want that instead of this cheap vodka,” his voice lingered and your eyes lit up.

“wait, really?”

“for a pretty girl like you, of course. but i want something in return…”

thats how you ended up in the basement bathroom getting fucked by wonbin.

propped up on the sink counter, holding yourself up by your hands behind you, while he he has a hand on your waist and one around the back of your neck. you moan out, his cock bullying into your cunt with no sign of slowing down. his grip on your waist so tight you’re sure theres going to be a bruise when he lets you go.

his hoodie discarded somewhere on the bathroom floor, leaving him in just a white tank and his pants pooling at his ankles. he had your shirt lifted up so your tits would be on display for him, along with your skirt flipped up and tights ripped so he could see your dripping pussy while he fucked you.

“wonbin… fuck” you cry, one of your hands going to rest where his was on your waist. he swats it away, and you bring it back to its original position of holding you up.

his hand around the back of your neck prevented you from looking anywhere else that wasn’t at him, so your eyes switched from looking at his face to how his cock disappeared inside of you. it was honestly disgusting how lewd this was… fucking this boy you’ve never even had a complete conversation. the sounds of your pussy squelching and skin slapping filling the room, almost as loud as his groans and your whimpers.

“feels good, pretty girl?” his voice was like honey, but you felt like you wouldn’t be able to speak so you just give him a nod. he didn’t like that though, hand around your neck traveling to your face to hold you by your jaw. “words. need words”

his hand around your waist sliding down to pinch your clit with his thumb and index finger. “feels good! feels so good wonbin” voice hoarse, you look at the boy through your teary eyelashes. he lets out a chuckle in satisfaction, picking up his already impossibly fast pace while looking you in the eye.

“good girl, gonna fill this pretty pussy up” still holding you by your face, he leans in to put his mouth on yours. it was wet and sloppy, no real rhythm just teeth clashing and tongue’s colliding. other fingers swirl around your clit making it hard for you to kiss him back.

“gonna cum, wonbin” you moan into his mouth, biting his lip after the words slip out. his fingers add more pressure to your clit, making you lightheaded.

“go ahead and cum, pretty girl. make a mess all over my cock” his words were enough to make you reach your peak, the string in your core finally snapping as your orgasm hits. hands that rested behind you move to pull wonbin closer to you, now chest to chest as you shake under his body.

his own orgasm hits him, your cunt squeezing him so tight to where he could barely move, pumping his seed deep into you with a loud whimper.

the two of you stayed connected for a few minutes, before he pulled out and grabbed some toilet paper to clean you up. you try your best to make yourself look presentable before you go back upstairs, lipstick smudged and mascara running only slightly. thank the universe for waterproof mascara… you think.

“i’ll go get that vodka now,” wonbin is quick to put himself back in his pants and get his hoodie on, slipping out of the bathroom.

can u tell i got carried away with this one? it wasn’t too pervy but i hope you still liked it !!