sleepybbie

[sleepybbie]

i actually feel very disappointed in myself for not being able to write again properly sighhh

[sleepybbie]

midterms are over but lily’s missed the entirety of kinktober 🥲🥲

[sleepybbie]

hello! important update!

firstly, i would like to apologize for delaying my kinktober list for so long :,( lily has so many projects because her ass picked the art strand in my senior high, and because of it i have many projects to do such as art advocacies, art portfolios and various other projects. again, i will absolutely try my best to finish my first fic but i don’t think it’ll reach much until i finish this midterm :,3 hopefully you guys understand </3 and im sorry

[sleepybbie]

wahhh lily’s so late for kinktober T^T argenti’s almost finished! i hope i didn’t bother u guys from waiting sm </3

[sleepybbie]

hellooo my beloveds! my kinktober might delay because lily has so many things to do! T^T i’m sorry if it might take a while!

[sleepybbie]

Can I pls be added to the kinktober tag list tooo??

:))

kuku ofc!

[sleepybbie]

heyy can i be added to the taglist pretty please :D

another one alr??? u guys are quick, ofc bb! \(>o<)/

[sleepybbie]

hey... if ur kinktober has a taglist could i possibly join :333 !!!

omggg! it’s the first someone asked me this but ofc! >.<

[sleepybbie]

—ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི LILY’S SPECIAL ROCK N ROLL! MASTERLIST

❥ a/n: it’s here! welcome to lily’s special request event! all of your inbox asks were so interesting, honestly it was hard to choose which one i’ll be writing for each category T^T nonetheless, my mind has been made up and i have officially chosen the requests to be written! for those who weren’t chosen, i am very sorry but you can await for more future requests! mwah!

❥ note: it may take time for me to finish all due to school stuff ;—; but i promise to give my all until the end of october (ꈍ ꈍ)

CHERRY WAVES BY DEFTONES || MIRROR SEX WITH…DRUMMER!ARGENTI

—ft. insecure!reader

perhaps dating a literal handsome drummer can make you feel down with all girls are after him. but you know, it’s not really nice to degrade yourself in front of your doting boyfriend—ARGENTI, who sees the beauty in everything. his solution? well, fuck it into your pretty head (nicely).

cw: praise kink, lots of kissing, cunnilingus, nipple play, creampie, unprotected sex

SICK LOVE BY RED HOT CHILLI PEPPERS || DUMBIFICATION WITH…GUITARIST!LUOCHA

—ft. fwb!reader

no strings attached was all you both agreed with. LUOCHA has always knew the way to cope with stress is by warming his cock down on your throat and pussy! but what if he gets the weird feeling of wanting to keep your pussy to himself?

cw: dub-con, use of toys, blowjobs, semi-public sex, mentions of drug use (not by reader or luocha) and alcohol mention, unprotected sex, mindfucking, multiple orgasms

FELL IN LOVE WITH A GIRL BY THE WHITE STRIPES || DEGRADATION WITH…DRUMMER!JING YUAN & GUITARIST!BLADE

—ft. shy!reader

what happens when your boyfriend JING YUAN gets too excited seeing you dolled up for him after a tiring gig? well not just gifting him with open legs and leaving a slight open door to the dressing room…but another pair of open eyes to secretly enjoy the view and get his dick hard like a fucking pervert

cw: threesum, full nelson, double degradation, no proofhead, blade is a meanie while jing yuan is an angel but eventually he goes along with blade :(, creampies, blowjobs, semi-public sex, dumbification

R U MINE? BY ARCTIC MONKEYS || CHEATING WITH…GUITARIST!BLADE

—ft. exgirlfriend!reader

you didn’t know which one is worst; catching your new boyfriend get his small cock and confidence sucked by another chick inside your own apartment? or having to attend your friend’s gig just to see your ex play on stage? well, for BLADE, it’s all a win-win.

cw: unprotected sex, he’s both a meanie and a tease, nipple play, fingering, choking, creampie, hair pulling, hinted multiple rounds, restroom sex

WHOLE LOTTA LOVE BY LED ZEPPELIN || JEALOUSY FUCKING WITH…BASSIST!BOOTHILL

—ft. vocalist!reader

it was was always the job of the vocalist to entertain everyone with their captivating vocals, and that’s what BOOTHILL always thinks. yet your tendency to test his patience never went unnoticed, and this time, he was helpful to see if you can perfectly hit that high note with his assistance!

cw: unprotected sex, manhandling, roughhousing sex, fingering, hair pulling, creampie, boothill is a meanie, riding, semi-public sex

FEEL GOOD INC. BY GORILLAZ || VOYEURISM WITH…BASSIST!MOZE

—ft. crush!reader

he swore to ask you out after the gig went well. he swore to make you give him a chance after years of secretly (not much secretly) pinning over you. and MOZE swore he didn’t mean to peep in your dorm as you fuck yourself on a glass dildo!

cw: hinted stalking, use of toys, mutual masterbation, fingering, oral sex, he watches you touch yourself, unprotected sex

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE BY MÅNESKIN || COLLARING WITH…BASSIST!DRRATIO

—ft. girlfriend!reader

a small argument with the annoying, gambling-addict guitarist, an idiot who thinks his drunk ass arguments are smarter, and the tire of his car almost popping. of course, it seems like there’s only one thing angrier than RATIO, and that was his raging, red and hard tip of his cock when his girlfriend wore the collar he bought!

cw: car sex, breath play, angry sex, he calls you ‘pet’ twice, doggy style, hinted multiple rounds, mating press, outdoor sex

CLOSER BY NINE INCH NAILS || BREEDING WITH…DRUMMER!JIAQIOU

—ft. bartender!reader

it’s that JIAQIOU drummer guy from the YAOQ3NG again. he’ll have the usual—a glass of tequila with a side of vodka for the vocalist/guitarist and a shot of whiskey for the bassist. he’ll also like the request you bent over one of the makeup tables in the dressing room of the backstage. don’t forget the lime and salt!

cw: unprotected sex, rough sex, mating press, hinted multiple positions and rounds, cunnilingus, dirty talk, mouth gag, semi-public sex, creampies

❥ note: i’ll be drowning myself sm in both school work and kinktober. why can’t i just drown and choke on yingxing’s dick instead???

©all work belongs to sleepybbie

[sleepybbie]

FILL ME UP R♡CKSTAR! | KINKTOBER SPECIAL 2024

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ MINORS DNI (18+) ࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔

—welcome to lily’s special kinktober request event! ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

hello, hello! it’s been a while, my beloveds ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ since october is arriving, i thought to myself that why not join along for the upcoming kinktober? ;3 and also, why not make it a little special for both my followers and readers?

today’s theme for my kinktober special, is…rockstar/band au for honkai: star rail male characters!

here are the main courses to fill up!:

mirror sex with…

dumbification with…

degradation with..

cheating with…

jealousy fucking with…

voyeurism with…

pet play/collaring with…

breeding with…

here’s how to participate! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

• ask in my inbox which kink you’ll pick to fill the blanks! the specific character you want, and the scenario!

• the scenario in my ask must be well-explained and not in a short sentence, unless you want the details to be up to me ! (ex. face sitting with guitarist!blade x reader and then explain your scenario).

• once you send your ask, i will be picking which only one i will choose for the certain scenario ^_^ so good luck!

• the masterlist will be out by sept 30 with the results! so hurry and pick your favorite!

here’s the catch! (rules): ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ

• as always, must be 18+ before requesting. ageless blogs and 17 below are BLOCKED <3

• if you chose the prompt ‘cheating,’ only reader will be the one that does so and not the character. reader will also not be cheating on the character (iykwim)

• i only write for female!readers since i don’t know how to write for gn or male (i’m rlly sorry!) T^T

• request in my ask only ! i will not accept from messages or in the comment section T^T

• no first come first serve! i pick depending how i like the scenario you provided <33

• i do not write for arlan, yanqing or misha ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ (i don’t feel comfortable writing for them, it’s illegal lol), nor do i write for npcs like skott ToT (however yingxing and dan feng are exceptions <33)

• male characters only T-T (i still haven’t figured out how to write spice for fem T-T)

rules understood? then good luck and have fun! excited to know your scenarios for this kinktober!

©all work belongs to sleepybbie

[sleepybbie]

huhu is it hard for some people to read rules first before requesting T^T

[sleepybbie]

hi.. for ur kinktober do u do threesomes :3 ?????

hai hai ofc! but depending on the prompt you pick! >_<

[sleepybbie]

FILL ME UP R♡CKSTAR! | KINKTOBER SPECIAL 2024

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ MINORS DNI (18+) ࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔

—welcome to lily’s special kinktober request event! ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

hello, hello! it’s been a while, my beloveds ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ since october is arriving, i thought to myself that why not join along for the upcoming kinktober? ;3 and also, why not make it a little special for both my followers and readers?

today’s theme for my kinktober special, is…rockstar/band au for honkai: star rail male characters!

here are the main courses to fill up!:

mirror sex with…

dumbification with…

degradation with..

cheating with…

jealousy fucking with…

voyeurism with…

pet play/collaring with…

breeding with…

here’s how to participate! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

• ask in my inbox which kink you’ll pick to fill the blanks! the specific character you want, and the scenario!

• the scenario in my ask must be well-explained and not in a short sentence, unless you want the details to be up to me ! (ex. face sitting with guitarist!blade x reader and then explain your scenario).

• once you send your ask, i will be picking which only one i will choose for the certain scenario ^_^ so good luck!

• the masterlist will be out by sept 30 with the results! so hurry and pick your favorite!

here’s the catch! (rules): ₍^ >ヮ<^₎ .ᐟ.ᐟ

• as always, must be 18+ before requesting. ageless blogs and 17 below are BLOCKED <3

• if you chose the prompt ‘cheating,’ only reader will be the one that does so and not the character. reader will also not be cheating on the character (iykwim)

• i only write for female!readers since i don’t know how to write for gn or male (i’m rlly sorry!) T^T

• request in my ask only ! i will not accept from messages or in the comment section T^T

• no first come first serve! i pick depending how i like the scenario you provided <33

• i do not write for arlan, yanqing or misha ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖ (i don’t feel comfortable writing for them, it’s illegal lol), nor do i write for npcs like skott ToT (however yingxing and dan feng are exceptions <33)

• male characters only T-T (i still haven’t figured out how to write spice for fem T-T)

rules understood? then good luck and have fun! excited to know your scenarios for this kinktober!

©all work belongs to sleepybbie

[sleepybbie]

I think Blade will like the idea of you sitting on his face and suffocating him to death while he eats you out...

[sleepybbie]

𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄.

✶ yingxing x gn. reader — wc. 4.1k

summary. existence draws a divide between that of mortals and those blessed with eternity, yet he cannot help but be enamoured by you; consuming his thoughts, his dreams, allowing you to lead his mortal soul to ruin. as for a lifetime do you remain far from his reach, shrouded by legend — and all he can do is carve your name into memory.

notes. rewrite of an old oneshot lol shoutout to my friend nova for helping me with this ily 😘

Your name echoes throughout the Xianzhou, heard everywhere — seen everywhere Yingxing steps foot. 

For you dance across his mind in a way that’s almost taunting, your movements as elegant as the sword you brandish, yet as swift and fleeting as the cool breeze that blows through the windows of his workshop. It’s a gentle momentary caress across his face, a sense of almost grasping something so incorporeal, so impossible. 

It’s a distraction from the purpose that occupies his thoughts, the one that tears and slowly chips away at everything he is, as sweat pours from his brow and his body shakes with exertion, swinging the hammer in his hands. 

The sound of it rings against red-hot iron in a repeated motion, a crude jarring noise that sends tremors up his arm and leaves him gritting his teeth. But his eyes remain unfaltering, focused wholly on tempering the steel atop an elegant staff, wrought from the finest materials he had managed to get his hands on. 

Because there remains burning irresolutely, that innate desire of his, the one that strives to be the best, and furthermore, when it comes to the subject that is you. 

He thinks of you, each time it meets the metal. 

He thinks of you, as he carves your name along it, and each time the tool slips from his grasp and slices apart the palm of his hand, spilling crimson blood — it’s the the same colour of the ribbon in your hair blowing in the wind, as a smile graces your lips beneath skies painted with aureate clouds. 

It ripples behind you like a blazing trail of scarlet across his memories, whilst silver gleams in your hands in an almost brilliant reflection of the moon itself, crossing blades with him beneath the light of the setting sun, sweeping him up in this mesmerising dance of yours. 

You’ve left him utterly entranced by your very existence, so much that he hardly notices it when you knock him off his feet, for even that fall is graceful by your doing.

However, his defeat doesn’t surprise him. Because who was he to compare to the likes of you after all? You’re the greatest swordmaster the alliance has seen in centuries, a living legend amongst those who gaze upon your image in equal fascination. 

Against you, his existence is almost pitiful, reducible to a mere mortal with a bare scrap of talent in the art of craftsmanship. He’s forgotten easily, a human who presumes to walk amongst gods, a faint, fleeting existence amid the illustrious and divine.

Even at the end of your dance, when you’re smiling, beaming with the radiance of the sun itself — it’s never at him who lingers in your shadow. Your attention drifts elsewhere quickly, endlessly seeking records beyond the sky, enraptured by clouds and moonlight whilst he’s left to grasp at the fading trail of stardust you’ve left in your wake. 

His eyes forever remain fixated upon your back. It’s the only thing he can behold, yourself turned to greater things. For something far more brilliant catches your own eyes. 

He sees the way your eyes brighten at the sight of the Vidyadhara high elder who approaches, dark hair swaying in the breeze and piercing green irises that glisten like emeralds. You greet him like an old friend, slinging your arm around his shoulders, embracing him whilst Yingxing watches from afar. 

Deep down, he knows he cannot blame him for holding your attention. Those slender, unblemished hands fit perfectly in your own divinely wrought ones — their complexion is far from his own which remain calloused and marked with faded scars. They’re imperfect, etched from the flawed creation that is mortality. He should not behold you with them. 

It’s incomparable. 

There are no greater existences than the ones that stand before him, when both of you seem to glow with that ethereal grace, an almost timelessness to your figures, eternal and everlasting. 

And the high elder is brilliant in his own right, he’s created to be that way and nothing less, unlike the mortal craftsman who can only hold the desire to reach such heights. For in the end, as one casts their eyes to the sky, a faintly flickering star would not outshine the moon itself, no matter how brightly it burns. 

But why does he still desire to burn? 

Your bright figure drifts away before his eyes, further out of his grasp, as you have always been. It should kill the fire which flickers in his heart, swallowed by a void he cannot fill. You’re destined to lead great lives, its possibilities stretched before you — in fact, you shouldn’t need to spare a glance back at him.

But when you do, all it does is make him unable to move on, allowing himself to be caught up in the struggles that tether you to him once more. Because when words leave your mouth, even if it’s spun about your own woes, he’s entranced again. And the one you speak of, he knows in an almost bittersweet manner, similarly mirrored in the grim look the high elder casts his way. 

It echoes a hopelessness, pokes the fire that had once been left to die, reigniting the part of him that cannot stand the pridefulness of the long-lived, tearing at him to be better. 

Yingxing thinks, had he been the one blessed, he would be the one able to stand by your side, to reciprocate the feelings you hold for another. For you who is perfect in his eyes, is it not expected that you too are deserving of perfection? He would lay the world at your feet had you asked it of him. 

But alas, he’s always been doomed to walk a separate path, whilst watching the greatest ones split. 

He’s heard both confessions beneath the light of two moons, upon two tranquil nights. 

From he who parted the sea, forged the seal of the ambrosial arbour, master of the cloudhymn art, a being equally as great as you, upheld by glory and legend — he sheds this title, this facade, before his oldest friend. His emerald eyes are clouded with a pained sorrow, his wearied emotions bared before him, as he speaks the truth upon his mind. 

“I cannot love them, Yingxing. No more than any other friend.” 

The high elder is not blind to your affections. But as brilliant as you are, he does not hold the same freedom as you to love. He is still the high elder of the Vidyadhara, and to him, love is nothing more than another shackle against the one that is his duty. To share in the company of lesser beings and mortals was already loath enough, in the eyes of immutable laws the preceptors hold so dear. 

He admits wistfully, that he envies him, for being able to be so free — to roam the world, to speak his mind, to feel. 

But Yingxing envies him, for being everything he could never be, and the object of all your attention. He doesn’t know the burden that is mortal emotion, nor the stinging pain that is love. 

Because loving you hurts. 

In all your greatness, you are clueless to love. Immortal beings like you do not grasp such emotions easily, brimming on an uncertainty you look to him to right. For he’s the most human out of the three of you, and the only one who could possibly understand. But he breaks, and he burns the easiest — the downfall that comes of feeling the way he does. 

But you don’t know that. You continue to speak so highly of him, voice laced with awe, as you recount the events of your day to the craftsman. You describe the strange feeling that seems to blossom in your chest, and Yingxing wants to hate how you even do that beautifully, with sparkling eyes and a small smile gracing your lips. 

Your love is like a gentle breeze blowing amid iridescent blooms of spring, bathed with the splendour of golden sunlight. You ask him, what flowers does the high elder like, what his favourite colour is — all the questions he wants to ask you. But he’ll never truly bask in such light, to know you in such a way. 

Not when he hears you say that you think you love him. 

Your words are uttered with innocent wonder, and there should be nothing more beautiful — yet they cut him in a place you don’t see, driving beneath flesh, aimed straight for his heart. 

He clutches its bleeding, broken remains as you whisper of the joys of love, unburdened by the other side of it he himself is weighed down by — each utterance is like a knife digging deeper into those wounds. He can still hear Dan Feng’s words echoing in his mind, ringing in his ears, clinging to his figure like a vengeful ghost that threatens to tear him apart, to push its way past his lips. 

Yet he can’t bring himself to speak this truth that has cleaved his heart in two, to dim the light that is you in his eyes. He swallows the feeling, turning away, retreating into himself, throwing all thoughts of you into his craft — the only thing he knows that remains unchanging amid the turmoil that overturns and divides his heart. 

He trusts in these sheets of steel, for they do not speak of the woes that are love, able to be formed and shaped to his will, curbing his feelings. Yingxing grasps it in his hands with certainty, unlike your own faint love.

He loses himself within it, hammer ringing against metal, whittling away at the greatest pride of his fickle existence, eyes watering and blurring against the sweat that drips from his brow. He only pauses to breathe — that’s if he remembers, time trickling by him, day bleeding into night, and night fading to dawn. 

And beneath its soft rays resplendent of you, does his first project form before his eyes, an exquisite bow carved in the shape of a crescent moon, your name engraved upon its edge. He ignores the wooden splinters that dig in his hands, continuing forth, the same hands forming a silver dagger that seems to reflect the light of the moon, a crown of golden laurels, a fine necklace encrusted with jewels — day in day out. 

The sun is hanging high in the sky now, casting its brilliance upon the world, yet he continues to languish in its shadow. There’s a stinging pain that spreads across his hands, blistered in pink and red, but any pain is better than the one that sits heavy within him — the one that comes when he thinks of you, standing beneath such light. 

All he sees is the longing you hold in your gaze, looking out at the waters of the distant sea, the light dancing across its surface reflected in your own eyes. A sigh escapes your lips as you rest your head against his shoulder, poised to utter some sentiment. 

And you’re speaking of him again, of the one who doesn't love you more than a friend, whilst the one who truly does, bears witness to this. You speak of his green eyes, how you adore the colour, whilst the craftsman looks at his own cerulean irises in the water’s reflection. 

(They burn with blue fire, effervescent in its own destructive way — but alas, it is the soothing gentleness of water you crave, the one which snuffs out such fires.) 

A singular droplet falls down into it, casting a small, unnoticeable ripple. 

His vision grows blind with this green.  

He sees it everywhere, crushes it in his hands, reforming it so it will remain unforgettable by his craft, his touch — the closest he’ll ever be to you. 

For Yingxing can create perfection, but he himself cannot be, the tortured poet amid pure artistry. And he mourns this, as he wipes his brow, stepping back to take in the completion of another weapon, a jade staff tipped with glistening silver, and behind the etchings of your name, lies every fragmented emotion of his heart carved onto this. 

It's a weapon made for the only divine thing he’s ever believed in — you. 

Yet the exalted feeling is only momentary, followed by the reminder of his mortal limitations, as it all comes crashing down again. His shoulders seem to sag, a fresh wave of exhaustion washing over him, staggering backwards, slamming a hand on the crafting bench behind him to brace himself. 

A part of him wonders, how much time has he spent? The clock on the wall has stopped ticking, its hands paused on its final moments. The sky outside is painted with overcast grey, with neither the sun or moon in sight. 

It’s deathly silent, the corners of his workshop a hollowed abyss he stares into, when left with nothing but his own thoughts and the heaviness that lies in his heart. 

Only momentarily, is it broken by the sound of a knock on the door. 

But even that is muffled — he hardly hears it, unmoving.

But the knocking continues, more persistent. 

He sighs. 

“Yingxing?” Your voice floats from the entrance of his workshop, as if breathing life into him, rousing him from his trance, as he finally brings himself to raise his head. 

It’s you. 

It’s you. 

You seem to haunt him at every waking hour, from your physical form, to the one that exists with the recesses of his mind. He thinks he’s imagining you, as you breeze through the doorway. You look so out of place, so bright and vibrant against the bleak backdrop that shrouds everything. 

His traitorous eyes trace your form, outlined by the shadows that nip at the ivory draped over your body. White has always looked divine on you. He feels as if he is tainting such a pure colour with his corrupted eyes, defiling the fabric with fantasies of his parched lips and blemished hands being granted the chance to touch you, to hold you, to worship you. 

His fingers twitch. How wonderful would it be to feel your skin beneath his callused digits, so unworthy to lay upon a being such as yourself? How wonderful would it be to have your eyes set on him for more than a lingering moment, allowing a starving soul like him a minute of satiation, a second of mercy to slake the desperate hunger he has just for an infinitesimal amount of you?

But you do not grant him that reprieve. You never have. Not even for the barest moment, when he’s grasped the silk that trails in your wake, graced by the smallest sliver of your presence — it slips through his fingers just as quickly as his hopes, dashed by the condemned words that spill from your lips. 

You’re going to confess, pour out your heart, devote your soul — all for folly, your brilliance soon to be consumed and faded by this failed act. 

As beneath the inscrutable gaze of the high elder, this visage of yours is fated to crack. 

And a part of him knows he is responsible for this, withholding the truth from you, desperate to preserve this image of you. 

You don’t know this. You continue to beam, asking to practise the lines you wish to say with him, reaching out your hand in divine offering, a promise of heaven that you paint before him. You’re regretfully innocent, clueless of the things that can be ripped from you, after having peered down from a pedestal all your life. 

Yingxing wonders how quickly such dreams will collapse upon itself, stricken with the truths of reality. It’s a temporary illusion he too wants to believe, to indulge in — to savour that for a moment, the eyes you cast toward him are truly meant for him, and not the ghost of another, whose words will soon haunt both of you. 

He hates himself for wanting to take your hand despite knowing this. He knows he doesn’t deserve to look into such light, to take that hand, to let you be defiled by his sin of mortal existence — even when every fibre of his being burns with such desire, tempted once more by this forbidden fruit, to indulge in something he knows he is unworthy of. 

It takes everything in him to flinch away at your touch. 

He feels it for a moment, a cold featherlight brush against his arm. But even that is enough to leave him yearning for more — more of what he cannot have. 

Your countenance shifts just as quickly, the smile fading from your face. “Yingxing…?” 

You’re frozen in place, cut off mid sentence by his sudden movement, hands still suspended in the air, your gaze slowly travelling down to his own hands where bandages peel away to reveal jagged half-healed cuts and the faded scars of old wounds — so unlike your unmarred, unblemished skin. 

He’s the furthest thing from the perfection you dream of. And to think you dare ask him what’s wrong? 

There are so many things Yingxing could say that are wrong. Loving you is wrong, he should not hold such feelings within his heart. It’s never been anything he could handle, daring to gaze upon the true forms of such celestial beings. A mortal like him should never have even formed such thoughts of you, to entertain you within such imperfection. 

He must be punished by fate, cursed to obsess over such perfection nonetheless, to strive for it until it consumes him with the same fervour that is equal to destruction, wreaking judgement upon his flawed existence, leaving him nothing more than a shell that is infinitely more broken, scattered at your feet, his own fragilities laid bare.  

How he wants to say that you’re throwing yourself down the wrong path, for the wrong person — but he stops himself. For he cannot accept you are the one flawed, to correct you, for does that not go against every construct that is the universe? He cannot defy heaven, and to defy you is to go against everything he believes, to move his very faith. 

He can only shake his head, in what he prays is gentle inclination. “Don’t do this.” 

Your eyes narrow. “What?” 

“Don’t do this to yourself.” He repeats, quieter this time. 

You don’t understand the words that are coming from his mouth. They’re contradictory, so unlike what you’ve previously heard. Uncertainty laces his voice, so unlike the self-assured image he had presented to you on countless occasions, brimming with confidence — there’s no playfulness in his tone, nor the usual wry smile across his lips. 

That image cracks before your eyes, dying before you in this moment of solidarity. His hands tremble, wrapping around your exposed forearm, and your head snaps up, forced to meet his eyes, watery and bloodshot, looking back hopelessly at you. 

It’s traitorous, everything from his outstretched hands to his words that now touch upon your figure, in defiance of everything he had once held himself to, grappling with fate. But you’re teetering on a crumbling precipice, prepared to plummet headfirst — you leave him no choice but to leap forward and catch you, to stop both your falls. He would rather you live, cursing him forever than to lose you to the same heartbreak. 

Even now he’s waiting for judgement to rain down upon him, as he watches for your reaction. Yet you still don’t understand. You don’t presume to even try.

“You must be tired. You can’t be thinking straight—”

“No.” 

His pupils seem to dilate in response. It’s a blatant lie, as your gaze flickers from the bags under his eyes, to the way his hand shakes despite the grip upon you. His chest rises and falls, as if he’s struggling for words, a single utterance having left him breathless. 

“Yingxing, listen to me.” You try to dissuade him, trying to pry your arm out from his grasp, which only seems to tighten, his nails digging into your skin as he drags you closer to him, your arm pressed against his chest, your foreheads practically touching. 

You can hear his shallow breaths, and the rapid thumping of his heart against your own. A bitter, broken laugh escapes his lips moments later. 

“Listen? What is there to listen to? You’re in love with him, I know.” 

It’s a hollow admission, one you both know with an unfortunate certainty. 

You’ve uttered such a fact in front of him multiple times, and he’s heard it the same amount of times. Despite the ache in his heart, he’s not blind. He can see the truth with piercing clarity before his eyes — there’s no denying the way you look at him is far different from another. 

Because who was he in your eyes? He could compose a thousand eulogies on your very existence, your histories long and unforgettable. But to you, to every immortal being, whose lifetimes span a hundredfold of his own, he is someone easily forgotten and felled — even now, you’re looking at him like that, as if you pity him. 

He’s incomparable to the high elder you profusely love, incomparable to you. 

“So why—”

“Why…?” He echoes vacantly. “You wish to know why?” 

Yingxing wants to laugh at the irony of it all. How many times has he asked that question to himself, wondering why he is drawn to such brilliance, and the desire to hold it in his hand? He knows he should not behold you in such a way, his fingers twisted around a strand of your hair, transfixed by the divine being that looks up at him so hopelessly. 

But he is. He’s touching you, cradling your face as he had once dreamed, the feeling of your skin the fulfilment his rough fingers crave to grasp. Even now, you invite temptation — a part of him craves more, rearing its ugly head from being denied time and time again.  

Your eyes flutter shut. 

He thinks, white truly looks divine on you. 

But as he leans closer, lips hovering dangerously close to your own, he sees the parts of you stained by his touch, grasped by his blackened fingers, painted with the colour of smoke and the dust that is his own hopes, snatched away by the breeze that had accompanied your presence before him. 

He’s stained your cheek too, a marking of black charcoal smudged across the perfectly smooth porcelain, bled from his own hands that have greedily laid themselves upon you, in the lingering moment of almost human vulnerability you had granted him. Do you know it’s inescapable, etched into the very markings of his nature, this inclination toward sin? 

He should not defile you any further — but his lips have already brushed against yours, however briefly. It’s long enough for realisation to dawn. 

He lurches back at this realisation. 

It takes both of you a second to come to your senses, he’s still leaning over your figure — eyes wide in horror, while you stare back at him equally dumbfounded. Neither of you can comprehend what it is he’s done. 

He speaks first. 

“I’m sorry.” He manages to get out, straightening himself up again, already turning away. It takes everything in him to not look back at you. He doesn’t know if he can stomach it, to see your reaction. 

“Yingxing—” This time it is you reaching for him, but he’s gone before you can stop him, his figure retreating out of the door without so much of a noise, dissipating like smoke before your outstretched hands.

“Yingxing!” You call his name out again, but you know he can’t hear you. 

You make an attempt to follow him a moment later, but your head is still spinning from the rush of the moment, there’s uncertainty in everything you do. 

You don’t even know where you’re going. You’re stumbling over your own two feet in your desperation to follow after him, any other thoughts having left your mind. 

You grasp onto a nearby table as if to steady yourself, cursing a stray object you’ve tripped yourself on, eyes swivelling around the interior of the workshop — from the door to the bench you had just been standing by. 

But your eyes suddenly catch upon the weapons and intricate creations strewn across the tabletop. They’re unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, each of them more beautiful than the next, the metal glistening brightly in the light. 

There’s no doubt of their creator.

Still, you think of the cost all this must be worth. You wonder who this is all for. 

But you get your answer just as quickly, as you turn over the jade spear you had just picked up.

They’re all inscribed with your name. 

[sleepybbie]

the best relief.

nsfw (*´꒳`*) afab!reader. model!yingxing x bodyguard!reader. power play and dumbification (i think). fingering. you call him "sir"—reader is very polite lol. reader wears makeup. edging. mirror sex. overstimulation. breeding maybe? petnames used: darling, sweetheart. praises!!! :D forced eye contact 😵‍💫 he's a bit of a meanie :( but he's very in love w you hehe :33

it doesn't look good to me... hope yall like it though (_ _).｡o○ please have this to make up for the boothill smut i couldn't make a part two of 😔

the soft clinking of YINGXING's extravagant accessories cuts through the silence of the night, accompanied by the sound of your angelic voice moaning his name as if he was your god as he plunged another rough finger into your drooling hole—practically begging him for more, hungrily swallowing his digits that he thinks they'll snap if you were to clamp down any harder.

"so needy f'me, aren't you?" a throaty growl escapes his chest, tinged with desire as the model leans down to capture your lips in a passionate kiss, muffling your voice as he frenziedly pushes you up against the sink, positioning your legs in between his to keep you from squirming away.

yingxing swears he was never the type to do something like this to relieve his stress, as he knows the potential risks of it turning into a cosmos-wide scandals that will end up ruining everything he's worked hard to achieve—on the other hand, he simply doesn't have the ability to reject you when you were the one who voluntarily offered yourself to him, whispering in his ear about how you'd help him out in any way he wanted—so here you are; your clothes in disarray and a clear thread of saliva trickling down your chin, a testament of the supermodel's ability to make an absolute mess out of you, his precious soon-to-be girlfriend bodyguard.

you've always been a great bodyguard for him—a kindhearted and caring individual who takes good care of him while also being a bold and tenacious guardian whenever the pesky paparazzis are getting out of hand with their disturbances; which makes it even more enjoyable to break you into putty in his hands—and just to remind you, he hasn't even gotten to the fun part yet.

your hand flew over your mouth, trying so hard to muffle the sinful noises that escaped your pretty lips; fearing that yingxing's manager or that mysterious vidyadhara friend of his would barge into his house and caught you in the act. seeing this, his frown deepens, his hand swatting yours as he sinks his fingers deeper into your drenched hole, creating a series of loud sloshing noise that only serves to mortify you further at how dirty they sound.

"don't, i want to hear how good i made you feel," he whispered right beside your neck, tickling the sensitive skin on purpose.

you shake your head, unable to answer him properly without stuttering and making every words sound like a moan, "sir, what if—ah!" and with a simply curl of his fingers in the right direction, your complaints are silenced and replaced with high pitched cries—oh boy, at this rate, his tailored pants might just burst open with the way his bulge keeps growing bigger when he himself thought it couldn't anymore, all thanks to your beautiful voice.

"focus on me, don't think of anyone else," from the growl he struggled to suppress and the way he use his other hand to pinch your bud, you can tell that he's not very fond of the mentions of others during times like these—and you can't help your walls from twitching again at his demanding words, a knot forming in the pit of your stomach, tightening further at his precise movements. more incoherent words left your throat, and he smirks in acknowledgment of your nearing climax, drawing his fingers out just right before you can experience that oh-so-blissful feeling of relief.

a soft, frustrated whine left your throat as you clench around nothing, your lips curling downwards in disappointment as you look at him, "sir, why did you stop...?"

he doesn't respond, his attention completely directed at the crystal-clear substance coating his glove—a clear evidence of the euphoric experience he puts you through. aren't you just so adorable? getting so excited just by his fingers alone?

"eager, aren't we?" he sneers, pressing your bottom lip to make way for his soiled fingers, giving you a taste of yourself and oh aeons, why do you have to be so cute? eyes wide with tears and drool dripping down your chin as you lap the remaining of your own juices off the fabric, making his cock twitch yet again.

he's not gonna hold back anymore, he thinks—no, he simply cannot—hastily unbuckling his belt and pulling down his trousers, he sighs in relief when his erection is finally freed, the blunt head already leaking precum—a shiver ran down your spine, words catching in your throat at the length and girth; will it even fit?

yingxing smiles at the terrified look on your face, inching closer to playfully slap your folds with his tip, earning another whimper from you, "aww, are you scared, sweetheart?"

"no... i-it's fine, i can take it, sir," you slowly shake your head, still trying to look brave—the slight waver in your voice did not go past his ears though; it boosted his ego, actually.

the man snickered, gaze locking with yours, slowly guiding himself into the warm embrace of your walls, "we'll see about that,"

he sighs in pleasure as he watches your cunt eagerly swallows and clench around his length, as if trying to pull him in—so he reciprocates; jerking his hips to meet your pelvis in a slow and steady motion—your comfort and pleasure comes first, even if he is the one who needs this. still, you cannot help but roll your eyes whenever he reach deep enough to press against your sensitive spots, like he's done this millions of times before.

when he heard your moans getting louder, the man starts to pick up his pace, moving rougher and more demanding as his arms reach for your waist, pulling you down and bending you over so you can face the mirror; watching him pour out all his stress into your abused cunt and the way your body is arching against the sink—a sight so lewd that you want to look away from it, but no, he won't allow it; he wants you to see just how good he's making you feel—and he savors every moment of it, carving the memories of this obscene scene into his brain.

"sir—!" a tiny mewl left your lips when he pulls back, leaving only his tip inside, before slamming his hips back into yours, leaving not a single nook or cranny untouched—the intensity is enough to knock every single thought out of your pretty head. it feels too good, and before you could control yourself, your body lurched forward as you come undone on his cock, delicate fingers curling tightly onto the faucet as your poor body convulses in pleasure.

to stimulate you further, yingxing reach down to rub circles and patterns on your fluttering petals, "good girl—fuck, loosen up, will you? i won't be able to reward you if you don't let go of my cock," his voice is saccharine sweet, like a honeyed poison—so sweet yet so full of mirth, and you can't help but crave it more.

your gummy walls throb around him, trying so hard to not draw him in as he slowly drags his length across your overstimulated walls; yet you can't help yourself to not marvel at the sight of his silver hair cascading over your lower back, his eyes fluttering at how good it feels to nestle inside you—all reflected on the glass mirror for you to see.

but you were not able to gawk at him for long, for the haughty model always sought to catch you off guard—his hands squeezing the fat of your hips to ram his cock back inside, thrusting and rolling himself faster and harder than before, so much that you can hear the thwop thwop thwop sound, along with your soft wails harmonizing with his low grunts bouncing off the ceramic walls; you can only hope that his neighbors would not be suspicious of this totally-professional-relationship of yours.

as for the model himself, he couldn't care less, the only thing occupying his mind is that he has to lay his claim on you; to leave so many traces of his love on you that they will never fade no matter how many lives you have to go through—so he may always find you in every lifetime.

"keep your eyes on the mirror, darling," he clenches his jaw, guiding your chin up to face the fogged surface of the glass—yet it still cannot obstruct the sight of your lovely face; adorned with dark tears as a result of your smudged mascara, cheeks all warm and flushed, and trails of spit running down your chin. gosh, you really are the most gorgeous angel in this wretched world when you're fucked dumb on his dick.

"sir, i can't—"

"yes you can, and call me yingxing, please?" he coos, warm tongue prodding at your earlobe to coax you into obedience—not like he has to anyway.

"yingxing yingxing yingxing! please, i'm—hng!" because his name immediately leaves your agape mouth like a mantra, along with unidentified words that got lost in between mewls and screams of pleasure; and that's all it takes for the course of pleasure to run down his body, eyes tightly shut as he releases rope after rope into your womb, pressing himself directly on that one delicate, spongy spot inside your pulsating warmth—which then leads to your second orgasm, the waves of pleasure coursing down your spine as your body tenses up, sticky fluid gushing out and spilling down the floor with a squelch.

he stills himself, panting heavily as his broad chest press down on your back; you can feel just how heated up he has gotten, how his coat is all drenched with sweat, how his voice cracks slightly as he mutters praises under his breath, "you're taking me so well... can you feel how deep i am right now?" his hand trails up your abdomen to press on a particularly warm and slightly protruding spot in your tummy; he really did not hold back in marking you, huh?

finally, after you both have calmed down, yingxing begins to pepper kisses on your hair and cheek, slowly grinding all the cum back inside you; he despises seeing it leave you, "are you okay?"

"yes, sir..."

he frowns, thumb caressing your chin in a slow motion, "i told you to call me yingxing," your vision is blurry due to the tears bubbling up your eyes, but you swear you could hear him pout at that.

before you could answer, he flipped you over, a pair of muscular arms supporting your trembling body as he positioned you to sit back on the sink, "i guess i need to fuck you some more, don't i? that way, your pretty little brain will never forget my name again," his smile turns into a full-blown grin, eyes sharp with mischief; and you know that this stress-relieving session is going to take longer than you expected.

[sleepybbie]

maryse girlie h..how do you think…biker!blade fucks you…

been thinkin’ abt this HARD 4 days nonstop god bless u anon

biker!blade x fem!reader. cw. blowie, cunniligus, use of nicknames, riding, v4ginal fingering, blade referred as “yingxing” once, mentions of smoking n cigarettes. minors dni. (biker blade is my dream ride)

BIKER!BLADE who is willing to fuck you anyway you want him to! you want him to eat you out? his tongue is already lapping at your warmth! you want him to fuck you from behind? he’s already ramming into you from behind tugging at your hair, you went him to finger you? his fingers are already teasing at your clit. it’s best to say that blade is willing to fuck you anytime any-day and any hour, as long as he’s in the mood for it!

BIKER!BLADE who would have you ride him on his lap while you both sat on his newest motorcycle he recently bought, hands squeezing at the fat of your ass.. that stupid coy smirk on his face. “this was your idea. why are you crying, pretty girl? can’t take big dick anymore? thought i stretched out this pussy enough.” god, he’s so annoying sometimes. you could tell he enjoyed taunting you, jerking his hips forward to thrust himself inside your overstimulated cunt, small tears streaming down your face with pure ecstasy you couldn’t explain, not even to the stars. “mm.. so how do you like this new motorcycle?” you wanted to open your mouth to speak, your words immediately got caught in your throat as a whine left instead when he began to pound your pretty pussy, his large hand gently placed on the back of your head.. that stupid smirk on his face. “well? do you like it?” “.. i— fuck.. i do!” “louder, angel. let me hear you.”

BIKER!BLADE would smoke often, it’s like every time you see him.. you always see him puffing up a cigarette. it’s hot to say the least, especially when you suck him off. he took a puff from his cigarette, the entire room smelled like complete bounce that ass a deep woody aroma, a scent that drove you crazy from how strong it was.. but you didn’t care much. blade gazed down on you from above, his cock throbbing in your mouth. cockhead hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. his hands gripped your hair tighter, pulling your head harder against his crotch, putting that damned cigarette near his lips again as he took another puff. your tongue swirled around his member desperately, feeling the veins of his cock brush against your wet muscle. “that’s it, keep going. keep sucking my cock until i’m done with this cigarette.” blade slowly leaned closer, bringing his voice down to a whisper. “.. it’s gonna take awhile. don’t take those eyes off of me, keep that pretty mouth on my cock.”

BIKER!BLADE is willing to try new things with you, especially if it meant fingering you beneath the moonlight at an empty parking lot. his fingers are good, you can’t deny that. he’s obsessed with fingering you, he loves how slick your pussy can get from his fingers alone, hips jerking forward to let you feel how hard he gets, a low yet deep chuckle rumbling from his throat. “what? you can’t take it? remember what i told you, baby.. big girls can take this. your pussy should be used to my fingers by now, c’mon.. show me that you’re a big girl.” curling his fingers within your pussy sent you in absolute shambles, the way he curled them could be enough for you to release all over his digits. the tip of his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion. “nngh.. yingxing p-please..” you begged, your body aching for more. “don’t worry, angel.. i won’t stop until you’re screaming my name.” he increased the pace of his fingers, switching between rubbing your cunt and thrusting his fingers inside, his chin on your shoulder as he held you firmly against him.. his hair brushing against your skin.

BIKER!BLADE who would set you down on his motorcycle and eat you out, keeping a soft and firm grip on your hips so you don’t fall! to be honest, i’m sure you’d be afraid of tipping over because of how good he was getting in there. blade couldn't help but marvel at the sight before you, your body.. your skin glistening with sweat and desire. his tongue, the instrument of your delight continued its dance, each flick and lick drawing moans from your lips. be could feel your body tremble, each shudder making him harder, wanting to tease you further. “such a sweet girl you are, huh? letting me eat your pussy while your juices drip right on my motorcycle.” a low chuckle left his throat as he gazed at you, your eyes closed, your face a picture of ecstasy. your body arched, a silent plea for more, and he couldn't resist. he plunged his tongue deep inside you, savoring the taste of your arousal.

BIKER!BLADE who would have such good stamina. not only does he have stamina on the roads, he has stamina in the sheets too. “ugh.. fuck this pussy’s good, angel. can’t get enough of it.” his erection was hard and ready, your eyes locking onto him with a hunger that matched his own. blade positioned himself between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours. “again?” you asked, your voice breathy and soft. that same cocky grin that belied his nerves. "always for you, angel. this dick is yours, so take it.”

@ NEUVISTAR. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.