#<- a bit late but still. savoring every second

[sableflynn]

Out unseen - ch. 15

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Felicia takes steps to rescue herself.

contents: referenced noncon, landline phones, eye trauma, good ol' fashioned escape attempt

Read on Ao3

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Marbleton. The name lodged in Felicia’s mind, and even as she folded the events of the previous night into some dark recesses within her, she held onto the name.

Marbleton. She wasn’t nowhere. She was in a real place, near a real town, with people and houses and life and freedom. She could see it from her bedroom window, lit up in the night like a beacon, and as the sun rose she considered the angle, the topography, overlaid a mental map; having a name to the location both grounded her and opened the world to her. It make escape a tangible possibility.

Marbleton.

The nascent hope kept her alive through the following days. Volkan and his guest—Emerson was his name, a wealthy collector and dealer of raw magical materials—had reached some sort of business agreement, and that meant Felicia’s nights were spent in Emerson’s bed. The first night, he took her every way he could, twisting and exploring her body with large hands and greedy eyes. The second night, he lounged with a glass of wine as she sucked him off. The third night, he passed out after fucking her once, and she decided to act.

She wriggled out from under him without waking him and took a slow breath, savoring the stillness of the night. Slipping into a sleep dress, she watched him for any sign of alertness. He didn’t stir. Silent, she made her way to the window and looked out into the night. In the distance, Marbleton was a sleepy cluster of stars among the rolling hills and late autumn forests. Emerson snored behind her as she crept to the door, and she found it unlocked.

She slipped out of the room and into the dark hall, silently pressing the door shut behind her.

Even the simple barrier of a closed door between her and her rapist made her breath come easier. The house was quiet as a tomb. She drifted in the dark through hallways that she knew better than anything, better than her own home.

Volkan’s office was at the end of the hall, and it was unlocked.

A single beam of moonlight lit the office, but she could’ve navigated it in total darkness: the memory of waking up in that room all those weeks ago was a brand burned into her mind. She could see it, clear as a photograph: the bookshelves lining the walls, the leather chairs, the mahogany desk covered in papers and pens—and a telephone.

Felicia eased the door shut behind her and crept to the desk. In the dim moonlight, it was just as she remembered it. The phone was large, old-fashioned, and unassuming in its infinite connection to the outside world.

She had concrete information—Marbleton—and she needed to get it to where it could be used to save her.

The receiver was heavy, the dial tone deafening in the silence of the house. She threw a glance at the closed door behind her, and then she dialed the number for home.

As soon as she hit the final number, she realized how late it was, surely everyone would be asleep, and then—

“Hello?”

Marcus’s voice, distorted by distance and sleepiness, made her choke. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a muffled gasp of air that wasn’t quite a sob.

“Hello?” He was more insistent.

Felicia found her voice. “Marcus.”

“Felicia?”

“Marcus, listen—” She glanced back again; the door was still shut. She lowered her voice. “I’m near Marbleton.”

“You what? Felicia, how did—are you—”

“I don’t have a lot of time. Listen, someone mentioned Marbleton, it’s a little town, I can see it—” She was talking too fast. She forced herself to breathe, slow down, give him the most important information. She looked at the closed door again, and it soothed her.

“We’re just a bit south of Marbleton,” she continued, picturing the angle of the sun from her window. “There’s a bunch of woods between us and the city, and there’s a lake…” She saw it again, a map overlaid on the landscape, landmarks pointing the way to where she was hidden.

Over the phone, she could make out the sound of pen scratching on paper, and with a rush of affection she pictured Marcus scribbling on a map. “Marbleton?” His voice was thick with emotion. “But Felicia, oh my god—”

“Don’t.” They had too much to talk about, and she couldn’t, not now. “Marcus, I…”

“We’re coming to get you.”

“You need to hurry. I don’t know how much longer—” She glanced back again, and the door was ajar. Her blood froze.

“Felicia—”

The line went dead.

In the darkness, a hand pressed down on the cradle switch, the cruelest hand she’d ever known.

The phone slipped from her fingers, dangling from the cord. She forced herself to slowly turn around, and willed herself not to cry.

He was half-illuminated by moonlight, his lower face glowing as his lips curved into that fucking smile. His arms caged her in as he leaned closer, and with his cruel hand he caressed her cheek.

Volkan had her trapped, and Felicia knew what came next, and everything within her refused it.

“Don’t touch me.” Words she’d said a million times before, words that had never mattered, and yet she had nothing else. She leaned away from him, the wooden desk digging into her hips as she scrabbled blindly behind her.

He ignored her. His hand trailed down her body the way it always did, lingering, and as she pressed her body away from him, her hand landed on something long and thin and sharp. A letter opener, perhaps.

“Volkan—”

“Felicia.” His thumb fretted with the hem of her sleep dress, and her grip closed on the letter opener. “You really—”

“Don’t touch me.” Gripping the letter opener, she thrust at his face.

Warmth gushed over her hand, and he roared wordlessly, and she couldn’t think, she ran.

Shoving past him, she flew from the room, took the stairs three at a time. Behind her, lights were flickering on, doors opening, Volkan shouting. She slammed into the front door and wrenched it open and fled into the night.

Her bare feet hit the grass and she stumbled. Before her, the night was calm, a breeze stirring the woods. The air was fresh with scents of pine and damp earth, and it made her chest ache. How long had it been since she’d felt the grass, the breeze, the world?

She allowed herself to breathe for a heartbeat, and then the noise of the mansion behind her filtered into her consciousness, and she needed to go.

A single winding road led away from the mansion. If she followed it, she’d be in Marbleton; if she followed it, Volkan would find her within minutes. She squared her shoulders and ran instead into the dense woods.

She ran on pure adrenaline, heedless of the branches whipping her face, the rocks and roots and twigs at her feet. She didn’t know where she was going, and it didn’t matter. All that mattered was putting as much distance as possible between herself and Volkan. She’d figure out the rest later.

As she ran, the racing of her mind was replaced with one thought: she had stabbed him. Felicia had stabbed Volkan in the eye, felt his blood gush over her hand. She’d stabbed him with a letter opener, of all things.

Whatever happened next, she couldn’t go back. There was no returning from what she’d done. But fuck, she was glad she’d done it.

She ran for hours, or days, or minutes; time stretched and compressed as she wound through endless woods, her flight first effortless and then increasingly labored as the adrenaline faded and reality set in. Her body was weak from the past month of imprisonment, and as the pain set in, each step was harder than the last. The night was pitch-black and cold as winter, and she wore nothing but a slip of a sleep dress. She had no clue which way she’d come from, or which way the town was. The only thing she could do was keep moving.

She picked her way through thickets of bushes, her pace slower but no less determined. The night was quiet, but it was a quiet that was alive, so different from the silence of Volkan’s mansion. The wind whispered through the branches, an owl hooted in the distance, her own breath caught and tangled with the movement of nocturnal life through the forest—

And a twig snapped, and the murmur of voices rose behind her, low and furious.

She froze, her heart rate redoubling as exhaustion warred with fresh terror. They were here, and they were looking for her.

Now that she heard them, she wondered how she could’ve ever missed them. They sounded so close, she expected to feel hands grabbing her, the sharp pain of a knife, a gunshot. They were too close for her to hope to outrun them, and as dense as the woods were, she knew better than to think she could hide herself behind a tree, like a child playing hide-and-seek.

Her only hope was that they wouldn’t think to look up.

She hoisted herself into the low branches of a tree with all the grace expected after a month in chains. Her arms shook as she barely managed to pull herself up, bare feet scrabbling against the bark as she climbed higher. Catching her breath, she crouched among the scant remaining leaves, and she waited.

She saw the beams of light in the darkness before she saw who wielded them: Volkan and a pair of workers from the mansion, sweeping the woods with a methodical fury. As her eyes adjusted to the new lighting, she realized half of Volkan’s face was wrapped in a bandage, and it was already saturated with blood.

She held her breath as they paused under her tree. Her fingers gripped the edge of the branch with white knuckles, toes curling around the bark. In the arcing beams of light, she could just make out a glint of metal. They had not only flashlights, but also guns.

Volkan drew his light along the leaf-carpeted ground, following some unseen trail until he paused it at the roots of her tree—and the smear of blood she’d left there.

Her head filled with a dull, buzzing fear as his light traveled up the tree. When the beam hit her face, she blinked, blinded. Then her world exploded in pain.

She hit the ground hard enough to knock the wind from her, and her mind struggled to catch up—he had shot her, her shoulder was on fire, she fell from the tree, she couldn’t breathe, he was towering over her, she’d stabbed his eye out and now she was at his mercy—

When he slammed himself down on top of her, she fought like she never had before. She bucked under him, grappling and clawing at his face, struggling to draw breath in her constricted chest to scream. His fist cracked across her jaw, and it dislodged the scream from her at last. He punched again, and she choked. With one hand, he gripped both her wrists and slammed them into the dirt; with the other, he ripped the bandage from his head.

His left eye was weeping blood. That was her first, absurd thought as she stared at the bloody crater where his eye had been. Blood dripped onto her face, and as he leaned closer to her, a sick sort of pride stirred in her breast.

He gripped her wrists hard enough to grind her bones. “Heal it.”

“F-fuck you—” It didn’t matter. He was already dragging the healing from her, like stealing breath from her lungs. She writhed under him as her own eye lit up with phantom pain. Magic tendrils crawled like ice through them, stitching veins back together, brightening with the surreal burn of a stabbing in reverse.

But it wouldn’t be enough. She knew it couldn’t be, because even as he brute-forced her healing and added his own magic to hers, there were limits to what she could do.

And he was realizing it, too. “Felicia.” He snarled her name like never before. The raw hatred in his eyes sparked inside her; paradoxically, it was the first time he’d ever looked at her as if she were a person. She had to be a person, for him to hate her like that.

His hand gripped her throat. “Heal it.”

“I can’t.” He was dragging more magic from her, making her light-headed, but it couldn’t create new cells that were destroyed. It couldn’t restore his vision.

How many times had she had to break this news to patients? She witnessed the stages of grief in their faces as they realized that despite all the modern advances in healing sciences, there were still some injuries, some illnesses, that could never be fully healed. She’d learned to keep a professional demeanor, but inside, some part of her died with them every time.

But now, all she felt was grim satisfaction at having done irreparable damage to the man who had made her life hell.

“You piece of shit, there’s nothing I can do,” she hissed.

His grip on her throat tightened, cutting off her oxygen, and with her satisfaction came the creeping dread of what he would do to her now. He strangled her, and the world dimmed around her, and the last thing she saw was his eye in the darkness, a fire bright with loathing.

[saudad3]

Private Photoshoot

Prison Au! Stack x reader Word Count: 1,595 Summary: These letters just ain't cutting it for poor little Stack, who's stuck behind bars for the foreseeable future. Warnings: smutty af, minors dni

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Anticipation.

The gnawing feeling that filled many of your Wednesday afternoons since your beau, Elias “Stack” Moore, was locked behind bars in the Mississippi State Penitentiary just late last year. His crime? Having taken part in transporting various liquors and spirits across state lines, and got caught by a prohibition officer who just couldn’t be bought this time around. 

The length of his sentence? Absolutely too goddamn long.

You didn’t know exactly what kind of business Stack and his twin brother, Smoke, got into in their free time. Stack kept you relatively innocent of many factors of his lifestyle, answering your questions with more questions or slick remarks.  This doesn’t mean you were completely in the dark, though. You weren’t stupid, and he wasn’t exactly great at hiding the pistol he kept in his suit jacket or his bloodied collared shirts. As long as he still came to visit at the end of the day and filled you with pleasure throughout the night, you always kept room for him in your prayers.

But that was then. Now? Aint shit sweet. 

Stack wrote to you every single week. Long, detailed letters on what he’s doing and how he’d rather be doing something much, much sweeter – you. How when he gets out of that damn prison, the first he’ll do is split your legs open and eat your pretty cunt like a damn peach cobbler. Hell, he was ravenous in there. Counting down the seconds it’d take to get back into your arms into that perfect little pussy of yours.

You crossed your legs at the thought of his release date, feeling an immediate ache thrum at your clit. 

In last week's letter, Stack had so graciously let you know that these letters and the photos you were sending were simply not doing enough for him. He was going fucking insane in there. You raised a curious eyebrow, reading over his ever-so messy handwriting.  

You ignored the fire starting in the pit of your stomach as he wrote in the postscript of the letter, “That photograph you sent me in last week's letter just about sent me over the edge. Your pretty ass face and that yellow dress you was wearing got me whirling, girl. I'm starting to hallucinate you in here with me. Take some more photos for me, pretty please?” 

You knew what type of photos Stack was expecting you to send him, causing a deep warmth to creep over your cheeks. 

Your mind trailed off to one particular night when Stack asked to bring out his new hand-held camera that he paid a pretty penny for, to “savor the moment.” You sat in front of him on the bed, the strap of your nightdress slipping off your bare shoulder, exposing the top of your soft breasts. The cold air of your bedroom hardened your nipples below the thin white material. On your face, a soft smile and the innocent eyes that made Stack go weak in the knees. 

Stack sat in the armchair adjacent to your bed and positioned the camera over his eye, snapping a number of photos of you in different positions. 

“Stack, baby, what are these for?” You asked him sweetly, shifting under the camera’s gaze.  Stack placed the expensive camera on the bedside table before getting up and kneeling in front of your closed legs. 

“What’s wrong with wanting to capture my woman?” Stack slipped his rough hands under your nightdress and rubbed devious circles on your soft thighs. “I have the prettiest damn woman right here in front of me, Ima take advantage of the oppurtunity I’ve been given.” Stack chuckled, the glint of his gold fang grill catching the candlelight. “I ain't buy that camera for nothin.”

“Oh, Stack-” you were cut off by your beau hooking his finger into your undergarments, pulling them off at a slow pace. As if on instinct, you parted your thighs to make it a bit easier for him, a blush cascading over your face.

It’s a known fact that Stack hated to waste time. Everything about him was so fast-paced: his cars, his slick tongue, and especially his temper. 

But with you, he loved to take his time. He parted your thighs even wider, giving himself a full view of your beautiful slit, already so wet and ready to be worshipped. He looked up at you from his position between your legs, his signature mischievousness evident in his eyes. He planted wet kisses on the sensitive parts of your thighs, causing them to tremble and ache. 

You let out a small whine, leaning back on your elbows, eyes begging him to start devouring your cunt that got soppier by the second. 

“My pretty, pretty girl,” Stack cooed, taking in all of you. The strap of your nightdress slid lower, exposing your right breast, and you looked at him with such a pathetically needy look on your face. Stack stuck his thumb in his mouth before grabbing your breast with a rough hand, circling your nipple with the cold wetness of his saliva. “I just wanna take you all in.”

“Stack, please~” Another whine left your mouth as you threw your head back, belly filled to the brim with anticipation. 

You didn’t have to ask again before Stack placed a sloppy, wet kiss onto your pussy. A curse left your lips as you felt Stack use his tongue to split you open and run over your folds. After a few seconds of teasing kitten licks, Stack found your hardened clit and latched on relentlessly. Sinful sounds of sucking and slurping fill your bedroom as you arched your back, clinging onto the sheets. 

Stack used his hands to part your thighs even wider, plump lips sucking on your bundle of nerves, nipping every so often. You felt like you were going insane, feeling his tongue work wonders over your sensitive clit. 

“Ohmygo-” you jolted, feeling Stack slip in a single large finger into your entrance, curling and massaging. Stack detached his mouth from your cunt to watch himself pump in and out, seeing your wetness run down his long finger and onto his palm. He flashed a devilish smile at you, his beard soaked with your pleasure. 

You moaned in ecstasy, avoiding his eyes and slipping a hand in his curls, bringing his mouth back to your pleading pussy. He obliged, flicking his tongue over your clit with such a quick pace it made your brain fuzzy. 

“Jesus, Stack~” your moan trailed off, followed by a string of incoherent words and whines. As Stack worked his wonders to get you off, he could feel the head of his cock become sticky with pre-cum in his suit pants. 

“Stack, harder pl-” He planted a firm smack on your ass, working his mouth even harder than before, causing that knot in your stomach to coil so, so tightly. You bucked your hips on his chin, chasing that release you so desperately begged for. 

Stack had one hand repeatedly kissing at your g-spot, his other gripping at your plump ass, all whilst his god-sent tongue lapped mercilessly as your clit, Faster, harder, and sloppier by the second. 

You raised your head to look at how Stack gredily ate your cunt as if it was the last meal he’d ever have on earth. His chocolate eyes made contact with yours before snap-

You bucked your hips before releasing onto your lover’s mouth, ecstasy dripping from your pulsating hole and his glistening chin. Stack gave you a few more soft licks and kisses, allowing you to ride out your high before parting his plump lips from yours with a pop. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to calm yourself down from experiencing heaven on Stack’s tongue. 

“Look at you,” Stack stood up from between your thighs and began to unbuckle the brown leather belt fastened around his hips. “What a fuckin sight you are.”

You attempted to string a sentence together in response, but gave up very quickly on the matter. You noticed Stack begin to palm himself through his trousers, eyes scanning your ruined body before landing onto your plump, lush lips. His towering, strong figure leaned over you before he planted a soft kiss on your lips. 

“It’s daddy’s turn now, pretty girl. Can you open up for me again?” 

You used your remaining strength to nod eagerly, allowing Stack to part your legs with his rough, calloused palms and position himself at your entrance. 

– 

Your lewd memories were interrupted by an abrupt knock at your front door, which was followed by a “Good Afternoon, miss. Your mail for the day has arrived!” You straightened your posture, now acutely aware that you were gripping last week’s letter from Stack within your manicured clutch. 

You quickly hurried to the door and opened it to see a boyish mailman, sheepishly holding a stack of envelopes addressed to you in his hand. “Here ya go, miss.” 

You blinked at him before offering him a charming smile and receiving your mail, resisting the urge to shoo him from your porch.  After bidding each other a good day, you ran inside and disregarded every bill and pointless letter sent to you in pursuit of your man.

Finally, you came upon a letter addressed from the Mississippi State Penitentiary and plopped on a couch in your sunroom, a sudden heat taking over your body once more. You just had to know how Stack reacted to the impromptu photoshoot you made especially for him after receiving his letter last week.

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

Author's Note: This idea came to me in a dream last night. This is the first fanfiction that I've published on Tumblr, so please be kind and tell me how you like it. I really had to put this onto paper, and I need Stack in a biblical sense -- its scary.

[partynextstarry]

make it to the morning — m.l drabble

⊹₊ ⋆ tags: ⊹₊ ⋆: smut, lazy morning sex, soft dom!mark, praise kink, needy!reader, sleepy sex, barely awake mark, cozy toronto apartment, fwb? maybe more?, somnophilia ( consensual), clingy!mark, gentle touches

��� pairing: (soft)dom!mark x reader ⊹₊ ⋆

⊹₊sypnosis: you didn’t mean to wake him—not really. but the way mark shifts beneath you, low voice raspy and eyes half-lidded, makes it clear he’s not letting it slide. sleepy but in control, he takes his time reminding you exactly who’s in charge, dragging out every second like he knows just how desperate you are for him. and god, you are.

🎧: make it to the morning— partynextdoor

the window’s cracked open, and toronto’s calm, like everything’s been slowed down just for you and mark.

you’re lying on his chest, listening to the hum of the city outside. it’s still late, quiet, but you can feel his body beneath yours—warm and steady.

he’s breathing slow, heavy with sleep, one arm draped around you lazily. his heartbeat is soft against your cheek, grounding you in the moment.

you shift a little, testing the waters. your hand brushes against his chest—light, just a caress at first. he doesn’t stir, so you move your fingers down, tracing over his skin. slow, delicate.

then your hand slips lower, and that’s when his breathing changes. his body responds even though his eyes stay closed, his grip on you tightening just a little.

you pause, still, waiting. just breathing in the rhythm of his chest.

“don’t wake up,” you whisper, teasing him, though you know he’s half-aware.

but then, you slip your hand past the waistband of his boxers. and that’s when you feel him stir. slowly. he lets out a soft, low groan, the kind that you feel more than hear.

his arm tightens around you again, pulling you in closer, not aggressively, but with gentle authority. you feel his thumb brushing over your skin, a silent command.

“stay still,” he murmurs, his voice hushed but firm. it’s different from usual, slow, controlled, like he’s savoring the moment just as much as you are. he shifts a little, hand moving to your neck, fingers brushing lightly.

you shiver.

you keep your movements slow, but his body responds more urgently now, the tension building in his muscles. mark’s hand slides over your side, urging you just enough to make you shift in the way he wants. gentle but firm.

he guides your touch, not rushing, but always present—his presence a soft, steady command. you stroke him, and he exhales a breathy, “good.”

his hips move slightly, pressing up into your hand. you continue at his pace, and the way he reacts tells you he’s not entirely asleep, though he’s playing along.

his voice is quiet now, rougher. “don’t stop. keep going.”

you obey, letting your hand move rhythmically, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

there’s a sense of control, but not in a harsh way. mark is still calm, guiding you, watching every move you make, as if he’s trying to make sure you’re just as lost in the moment as he is. it’s intoxicating, his slow dominance, like he knows exactly what you need before you do.

he gasps under his breath, “fuck… just like that.”

his hand comes to rest on your waist, guiding you just a bit closer. he’s completely aware of the effect he has on you. there’s no rush, no force. just pure, gentle control.

you feel his body tighten as he gets closer, his grip on you tightening too, but still gentle. still guiding. “keep going,” he breathes again, softer now, like it’s just for you.

and when he finally breaks, it’s not sudden—more like the slow release of a dam, his hips jerking against your hand, his breath catching as he finishes. you stay with him, holding the pace, giving him that last bit of control until he’s completely spent.

he exhales, still breathing heavily as he pulls you back against him, his hand soothing your hair, rubbing gentle circles on your back.

“good girl,” he murmurs, voice rough and sleepy. he presses a kiss into your hair. “now you can sleep.”

you snuggle into him, his warmth surrounding you, and the world outside falls back into the quiet hum of the night.

it was 4am when you felt the faintest shudder by your thighs—soft, warm breath, and the gentle brush of fingers that made your skin prickle.

it was mark. again.

“y/n,” he murmured, voice low and gravelly with sleep, laced with a kind of quiet desperation. “i need you.”

he wasn’t exactly hard from sleep. no—not quite morning wood. more like midnight want. a need that lingered, slow and aching, built from hours of pretending he could sleep it off.

he didn’t mean to wake you. didn’t mean to tire you again.

but god, the way your skin felt under his hands—he couldn’t help it.

“let’s make it to the morning,” he whispered against your shoulder, kisses featherlight. “for me? yeah?”

you were already melting into the sheets when he tugged your shorts down—again—his hands slow, almost apologetic.

you groaned, not really in the mood anymore but you complied. “just don’t wake me up.” He took it as a green light. “gonna make you feel so good” he kissed your forehead. “goodnight baby”

he let out a quiet moan the second his fingers brushed against you—wet, warm, and waiting.

“shit…” he breathed, more to himself than you, eyes fluttering shut for a second as he pushed his sweats down in one slow motion.

you barely had time to react before he was sliding in—easily, deeply, like your body had been waiting for him even in sleep. a low groan escaped your lips, broken and tired, your hand blindly reaching to grip the sheets.

“mark…” you murmured, voice raspy, “im trying to sleep…”

he kissed your shoulder in apology, whispering against your skin, “i know, baby… just need you a little. won’t be rough. promise.”

his hips stayed gentle, rocking into you slow enough to lull you back into that hazy space between dreams and heat.

his arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, chest flush against your back. the room was quiet aside from the soft rustle of sheets and the shallow breaths between you.

“you feel so good,” he whispered, almost like he was talking in his sleep. “so fucking good for me.”

you could barely keep your eyes open, but the stretch of him, the slow drag of his hips—it made your body respond before your brain could. your thighs squeezed together, instinctively trying to take more of him. he groaned at that, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“still so tight… even after earlier,” he muttered, almost in disbelief.

you hummed, too far gone to speak, letting him use your body the way only he could—soft, slow, worshipful. his hand slid over your stomach, thumb brushing lazy circles over your skin while his hips kept that same patient rhythm.

he didn’t need to go faster. he didn’t need more.

he just needed you.

“you’re perfect like this,” he mumbled, kisses trailing down your shoulder. “letting me in… letting me have you like this.”

you weren’t fully awake—just drifting, somewhere between dreams and the pull of his touch.

your body responded before your mind caught up. the slow thrusts, the warmth of his chest against your back, the familiar weight of him inside you—it was grounding, comforting, and impossibly intimate.

he moved like he didn’t want to wake you completely, hips slow and steady, as if memorizing the way you felt around him.

his lips brushed your shoulder. “you always let me in like this,” he murmured, breath shaky. “even when you’re asleep… fuck.”

you stirred just a little, a soft sound leaving your throat—half sigh, half moan. your body clenched around him, sensitive and ready, like it remembered him even in sleep.

that was all it took.

he groaned into your skin, letting go with a quiet, choked moan, pressing his forehead to your shoulder as he came inside you. his body trembled faintly, hips stuttering before going still.

silence followed—warm and full.

he didn’t pull out right away. just held you close, fingers brushing your side, whispering a quiet, “thank you, baby. i love you so much.”

he stayed like that until your breathing slowed again, soft and steady. then he kissed the top of your spine, reached for a tissue to clean you gently, and tucked the blanket back around you both.

“goodnight. for real this time.”

[wingedhallows]

could you write loser!reader x nat scatorccio where the reader is on the team but isn’t that close to anyone and nat develops a huge crush on them and tries to get close? also love your work !!

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐁𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

ᯓ★ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 pre crash! nat scatorccio x loser!reader / 0.7k words ᯓ★ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 none ᯓ★ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 OMG THANK U !!! i hope u like it 𖹭

♡︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡︎

Practice runs late.

The sky outside the field is melting into deep purples and bruised gold, the sun dragging its last tired fingers across the horizon. You’re sitting cross-legged in the grass, still half-laced into your cleats, peeling a blade of grass apart between your fingers.

The rest of the team is packing up — some tossing their gear into duffel bags, others lingering to chatter in small, buzzing groups.

You don't really notice the figure that drops down beside you until a booted foot bumps your shin.

You glance up — and there’s Natalie Scatorccio, grinning at you like you just said the funniest thing she’s heard all day.

"You looked like you were solving world peace over there," she says, nodding at the shredded grass littering your lap.

You laugh, a little awkward. "Just... zoning out, I guess."

Natalie hums, drawing one knee up, resting her arms lazily over it. She's so casual about it, but there's a brightness to her eyes, something coiled and restless under her skin. Like sitting next to you sends little electric shocks up her spine.

You don't notice. Not really. Not the way she watches you when you laugh, or the way her gaze dips to your mouth when you mumble something stupid about how you "always ruin the field."

Instead, you just sit there, oblivious, letting the soft hush of twilight settle around you.

"You know," Natalie says after a second, nudging your sneaker with the toe of her boot, "you're kinda cute when you’re in your own world like that."

You blink at her, cheeks warming immediately. "What?"

Natalie smirks, tapping a cigarette against her thigh without lighting it. "Nothing. Just saying. It's, like, criminal how you don't notice half the people drooling over you."

You snort, shaking your head. "Yeah, okay. In what universe?"

"In this one, idiot," Nat says, laughing — but there's a breathless edge to it, like she’s balancing on a wire. "Seriously. It's... painful."

You fidget, pulling at a loose thread in your shorts. Compliments aren't exactly your strong suit. Half the time you don't even recognize them until someone spells it out.

Natalie watches you with this wild, fond look, like you’re the dumbest, sweetest thing she's ever seen. She leans in a little, close enough that you can smell her — that mix of grass, leather, and something sharp like smoke.

"You still don't get it, huh?" she murmurs, voice dipping lower, softer.

You look up, heart thrumming a little faster now. "Get what?"

Nat grins — wide, sharp, something reckless flashing behind her eyes — and before you can overthink it, before your brain can even catch up, she leans in and kisses you.

It’s not rushed, not messy. It's sure. Warm.

Her hand finds your jaw, thumb brushing your cheekbone as she kisses you slow — like she’s waited forever for this exact second and she’s going to savor every single heartbeat of it.

When she finally pulls back, she stays close enough that her forehead brushes yours, her breath warm against your mouth.

"Obvious enough?" she whispers, smiling crookedly.

You’re pretty sure your brain short-circuits. Words fail you — totally, spectacularly — so you just nod, dazed and stunned and maybe a little bit in love.

Natalie chuckles, the sound rumbling low in her chest, and presses another quick, teasing kiss to the corner of your mouth, like she can't help herself.

"C'mon, loser," she says, standing up and offering you a hand. "Walk me home."

You take it — of course you do — your fingers slotting into hers so naturally it’s like they were always supposed to find each other.

And as you walk off the field together, hand in hand, you can’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — you’re finally starting to get it.

[sundew199]

Already damned

a/n: idk what possessed me to write sanji for this prompt but it fit well. Every thing in here is pre-established consent though not explicitly stated!! If it's not your things pls don't interact :)))

tags: Vinsmoke Sanji x reader, consensual somnophilia, oral f!recieving, uh pathetic devoted man?

kinktober day five: somnophilia

!!MINORS DNI!!

Sanji never slept much to begin with, not with constantly having to prep food for the crew or on the latter keep said prepped food away from Luffy, almost standing guard in the kitchen as he did so. But those were only on the nights Luffy just had a hankering for a late night snack. In general sleep didn't come as easily some nights like he wished, blamed it on the nicotine from his cigarette keeping him up or running through new and old recipes in his head.

He'd never say it out loud, but he envied how fast you could fall asleep. Like the second your head fell onto the pillow, you were out. On the restless nights, Sanji would lay with you, run his fingers down and across your back, press kisses into your cheeks and just admire the serenity that came with you falling asleep on him, the comfort he could provide.

Unusually restless tonight with no promise of actually falling asleep, he slid off of the bed, careful not to wake you and shuffled down to the kitchen. A small orange glow from his lighter igniting the end of his cigarette illuminated his path just a smidge, sharply inhaling the smoke and puffing it back out shortly. Sanji knew a midnight snack wouldn't help in falling asleep, but it's not like he had anything better to do.

Instead of making himself a snack, Sanji opted for finishing his cigarette and two more after that one, leaning back into the kitchen island and letting his mind wander a bit. A part of him wishes you were still up, a craving just for you forming while standing in the kitchen puffing on his cigarette. You'd been so much more needy for him, not that he was complaining to being with, but god was it a lot to keep up with. Add onto the entire crew needing him just about all day, when all you wanted was just him to yourself. A blessing and a curse this was, one Sanji found himself laughing to himself about.

Feeling as if he could properly relax now and maybe go back to sleep, Sanji left the kitchen and shuffled back to his room. Upon entering, the sight he was met with nearly had him turning on his heel. You were lying on your side haphazardly, the lightweight t-shirt you were wearing twisted around your body, accentuating your chest and waist. That wasn't the issue, it was the sight of you wearing nothing but that t-shirt, and Sanji just barely caught a glance of your glistening pussy before biting down on his knuckles to stifle his moan.

Fuck. Were you dreaming about him? You had to be, there couldn't be any other explanation.

Letting out a shuttering breath, mulling over his options, Sanji quietly locked the door before taking careful steps over to the foot of the bed. You turned over on your back right then, tits jostling from the movement and legs lazily falling open.

Fuck it. He was already damned wasn't he?

As carefully as he could, Sanji climbed onto the bed, pushing his hair out of his face and crouching down between your legs, gently wrapping his arms around your thighs. A near breathless moan left his lips now that he were face to face with your glistening cunt, the aroma of your arousal filling his nostrils like the sweetest batch of icing, making his eyes flutter and all inhibitions fade at a maddening pace.

Set on not wanting to disturb your peaceful sleep, his lips pressed softly up your inner things, the tip of his nose gliding along your supple skin making him twitch in his sleep pants. Rushing this would only cause you to wake and push his face into your cunt, not allowing him to savor the taste of you like he always prefers to.

Reaching the junction where your leg met your hip, Sanji stopped, unwrapped one of his arms from around your leg and glided it along your slick folds. You barely twitched, but just enough for his eyes to shoot up and look at you. Steady breathing still, body relaxed and waiting, making this almost too easy for him. Fuck he loved having you like this, and not just when you were asleep, just when you were relaxed and willing to let him take his time.

Slipping his middle finger in as slowly as possible, Sanji made sure to see what your reaction was, sighing at the pinch in your brows and the slight part in your lips, urging him to keeping pushing his finger all the way in. You clenched around him, greedily sucking in the finger he had buried in your cunt unmoving. He drew it back about half way and pushing it all the way in again, savoring the sound of your sweet breathless moan from the action.

Fuck, you were ruining him. And that was all he wanted.

Wetting his lips, Sanji descended down upon your clit, pressing a kiss and then swiping the flat of his tongue over it. God...you tasted so sweet and addicting, like this was his first time ever getting the chance to devour your pussy. His breath was hot as he pulled his mouth away, a familiar clench around the single finger inside you serving as a reminder to see if he'd pulled you from sleep.

Still deep in sleep much to his surprise, Sanji took to splitting your folds on his tongue, lapping up any leaking arousal and quietly humming. You tasted so so so good, like the finest dessert crafted by the best chef in the world. Oh he would never forget how lucky he was, to hold your legs apart and worship you.

"Sanji..."

Popping his head up at the soft whisper of his name, he expected you to be awake, but instead your back was slightly arched with your arms thrown above your head, letting out a soft snore.

At this point he didn't care if you woke up or not, wouldn't stop him from bringing you to the precipice on his tongue. Twisting his middle finger inside of you, slipping in his ring finger, he groaned into your flesh at the tight clench from your walls. So greedy.

Your legs were twitching by his head, but not enough to where ehe felt he need to use more force to keep them open. His fingers began to press into your skin as he turned eager, slurping and sucking at your folds and running his tongue from your entrance to your clit to swirl around it.

You were close. He could tell with the pitch in your moans, the shutter of your entire body and the tightening of your walls around his slow pumping fingers. Sanji wanted it. Needed you to cum on his mouth, he was so drunk off of you at this point that your pleasure was all that mattered. His throbbing cock pressed to the bed could wait, you were a priority.

"C'mon baby you're so close, so close." Whispering under his breath when he came up for some air, sucking through his teeth and diving back in. He knew sucking on your clit and curling his fingers around that spot deep inside you would do the trick, holding back his moans so he could hear yours that were quickly increasing in volume.

"Fuck Sanji please-"

So focused he didn't even bother to look up to see if he'd finally woken you, flicking the tip of his tongue across your clit enclosed behind his lips. Now your legs were shaking, quivering more like from the determination melding into his actions, the end goal dangling in front of him like a tease.

"Cum in my mouth angel," Muttering what he didn't know was his last statement before you came, eyes rolling into the back of his head when your walls fluttered around his fingers and the rush of your arousal filled his mouth, eagerly lapping it up like a dog dying of thirst, knowing he looked so pathetic. But he never cared, because it was all about you, never about him and he didn't mind it being that way one bit.

Easing his fingers out, Sanji sat back on his feet, looking down at the mess he made. A quick trip to the bathroom to grab a warm rag, he swiped it over your inner thighs, getting most of it up.

Haphazardly tossing the used rag to the side, he contemplated lighting a quick cigarette before crawling back in bed with you. But it dawned on him how tired he was, almost feeling excited that he was worn and wanting nothing but sleep, prompting him to carefully lift your limp sleeping body to his chest as he laid down. Sanji truly didn't expect you to still be sleeping, not after what he thinks was an intense orgasm.

Softly kissing your forehead and keeping an arm tight around your body, Sanji felt his sleep heavy eyes close on their own for the first time in a long time, content and oddly at peace.

[izzih22]

Prompt idea

P + A steal a few min to themselves in the locker room after the natty win. Maybe one of them pulls the other into a side room to have a cute moment to themselves to soak it all in.

Just Us

Note: I just re watched the whole game today. Does anyone else do that? Just me?😂

The confetti was still raining down in the arena, bright and colorful, but it felt so distant to Paige as she stood there, taking in the roaring crowd, the flashing cameras, and the excitement of the moment. They had just won the national championship. Something they had both dreamed of since they were kids, and now, it was real. The culmination of years of work, countless sacrifices, and overcoming so many obstacles.

But as much as the celebration was happening around them, Paige only had one person on her mind. Azzi.

They hadn’t even spoken yet, but Paige knew Azzi was feeling the same overwhelming rush of emotions. The crowd, the cameras, the coaches, and the teammates all surrounded them, but there was a moment when their eyes met, and Paige felt that familiar pull between them. That quiet, comforting connection they had always shared, no matter how chaotic the world around them was.

Azzi caught her eye across the court, her face beaming, eyes sparkling with joy. Paige didn’t wait another second. She gently pushed through the crowd, maneuvering around teammates and staff, and made her way to Azzi, who was in the midst of a group hug with her teammates. Paige’s heart fluttered in her chest as she reached out, lightly grabbing Azzi’s hand, pulling her gently away from the cluster of people.

“Paige?” Azzi asked, surprised, but she didn’t resist. In fact, she followed her effortlessly, as if knowing exactly what Paige was doing.

Paige didn’t answer verbally; instead, she tugged Azzi down a quiet hallway. Away from the media, away from the noise. Just the two of them.

The door clicked softly behind them as Paige led Azzi into a small, empty room. The lights were dim, the echo of the crowd’s energy muted. Here, it was just them—no distractions, no noise, no expectations. Only the two of them, in this quiet moment of triumph and relief.

Azzi’s breath came out in a shaky laugh, still riding high from the game. “What are we doing in here? Everyone’s celebrating out there.”

Paige smiled softly, stepping closer to Azzi, her heart still racing with adrenaline. “I wanted to be with you,” she said quietly, brushing a strand of hair from Azzi’s face. She leaned in and kissed Azzi’s forehead, the softest kiss, a tender, lingering moment.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She tilted her head to look at Paige, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I needed this. Just us.”

Paige smiled back, her fingers gently cupping Azzi’s cheek, the connection between them so natural, so deep. The air between them felt charged now, more than just a quiet celebration of victory. It was their shared dream, realized. All those late-night conversations, the pain of injuries, the doubts they had faced along the way, the countless hours of training and healing it had all led them here. Together.

“I can’t believe we did it,” Azzi whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She looked up at Paige, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “This… this is everything we talked about.”

Paige’s heart swelled at the sight of Azzi so vulnerable, so open. She leaned down, her lips brushing against Azzi’s forehead again, this time pressing a bit longer, savoring the feeling of just being close. “We did it,” Paige whispered back, pulling Azzi into her arms.

The embrace felt so natural, as if they had always fit this way like they had always been meant to hold each other after every challenge, every triumph, every struggle. Paige’s arms wrapped securely around Azzi, her hands gently running up and down Azzi’s back. Burying her face in the crook of Azzis neck, as Azzis arms wrapping tightly around Paige’s waist.

The silence stretched between them for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the quiet after the storm, where nothing else mattered but the two of them. Paige could feel Azzi’s heartbeat, thudding in sync with her own.

“I’m so proud of you,” Azzi whispered, her breath warm against Paige’s skin.

Paige pulled back slightly, just enough to look into Azzi’s eyes. “I’m proud of us,” she replied, her voice hushed and full of sincerity. She leaned in again, this time pressing her lips softly against Azzi’s, just a quick kiss that spoke volumes. Her hands cupped Azzi’s face as she deepened the kiss, both of them losing themselves in the warmth of each other.

Azzi smiled against Paige’s lips, her fingers gently threading into Paige’s hair. “You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to look at Paige, as if savoring every moment of this reality.

Paige laughed softly, her fingers lightly grazing Azzi’s jawline. “I’m not the one who just played the game of her life,” she teased, but there was no teasing in her voice only admiration, pride.

Azzi’s smile softened, and she kissed Paige again, this time more deliberately. The kiss was slow, a little more intense as if they were both trying to imprint the moment into their memories. It was a kiss of relief, of fulfillment, of love. A kiss that spoke of years of shared dreams, of hope, of the silent promise that they’d always have each other. No matter what.

After a few moments, they pulled back just enough to breathe, but their hands remained tangled together, their foreheads resting against one another. The world outside might have been celebrating, but in this small room, it was just them no pressure, no expectations. They didn’t need anyone else. Not right now. They had everything they’d ever wanted, right here.

Azzi’s fingers traced lightly down Paige’s arm, sending shivers down her spine. “You’re everything to me,” Azzi murmured softly.

Paige smiled, her heart full as she kissed Azzi’s forehead once more, lingering this time, savoring the warmth of the moment. “And you’re everything to me, Azzi. Always.”

They stayed in that quiet moment for a while, each kiss, each touch, a reminder of the journey they’d been on together. The struggles, the setbacks, the time apart it had all led them to this. To this win. To this moment.

Finally, after what felt like hours of just holding each other, touching, kissing, and letting the weight of everything sink in, Paige pulled Azzi back into her arms again. “You know what this feels like?” she asked softly.

Azzi leaned into her, resting her head against Paige’s chest, eyes fluttering closed. “What?”

“It feels like… we’re just getting started,” Paige whispered, her voice full of warmth and promise. “Like this is only the beginning of everything we’ve talked about. All our dreams. All our wins. Together.”

Azzi smiled, the contentment in her heart matching the glow on her face. “I couldn’t agree more,” she murmured, kissing Paige once more before resting her cheek against her chest.

For a few more minutes, neither of them spoke. The silence was no longer heavy it was comforting, filled with the love they had shared for so long, and the promise of more.

Together, they had reached their dream. And this quiet moment, just the two of them, was everything they had always wanted.

[evcrmoresworld]

all I know is that I love you 𐙚

kylian x wife!reader

nsfw [18+] warnings! trying for a baby, soft and gentle sex, oral (f receiving)

summary, the sun is setting, the breeze is warm, and you finally tell him you’re ready to start a family.

The villa is quiet, save for the soft rustling of linen curtains drifting in the breeze. The sun is dipping low, painting the entire room in honeyed gold. The ocean glimmers in the distance, and warm light dances across the polished floor, casting long, lazy shadows.

You're both lying on the bed, freshly showered from a late swim, your skin still warm from the sun. Kylian is propped up on his elbow beside you, his eyes tracing every line of your face like he’s memorising it all over again.

He’s been quieter today, softer than usual. Not in a sad way, just thoughtful. His fingers trail down your arm, slow and featherlight.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, though there's no one around to hear.

His eyes lift to yours. They’re so full of love it almost knocks the air out of you.

“You,” he murmurs. “You… and how lucky I am. And… the future. Us.”

You already know what he means.

You’ve seen it in the way he looks at children lately, his smile a little more wistful, his gaze lingering a bit longer. You’ve felt it in the way he holds you like he’s ready to build something new with you, something permanent and beautiful.

You reach for his hand and place it flat against your stomach.

“I’ve been thinking about it too,” you say softly. He stills, eyes locked on yours.

“Kylian… I’m ready. If you still want to try—I want to.”

He blinks like he’s not sure he heard you right. “Are you serious?”

You nod, your voice catching with emotion. “All I know is that I love you. And that I want this, I want this with you. No pressure. No perfect plan. Just… us.”

He leans in and kisses you, slow, deep, reverent. Like he’s pouring every ounce of gratitude, every unsaid “thank you” into your lips. When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he whispers. “I love you. So much.”

His hands are gentle as they move across your body, like he’s rediscovering you all over again, like he’s savoring every second. There’s no rush, only tenderness. The kind that makes your heart ache in the best way.

“You okay?” he murmurs, thumb brushing your cheek, watching your every reaction.

You nod, kissing his jaw. “Never been more sure of anything.”

His hand slides down your side, fingers skimming the hem of your shirt before slipping underneath. You lift your arms to help him take it off, and soon, he’s pressing his bare chest against yours, skin to skin.

He takes his time, like always, like you deserve to be worshipped. His mouth finds your neck, your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. Each kiss is slow and tender, almost like he’s thanking you. His hand slips between your thighs, teasing over your underwear, already damp with anticipation.

“You’re so wet already,” he breathes, voice low and warm. “God, baby…”

You whimper as his fingers slide over the soaked fabric, then push it aside to find you. He strokes you slowly, deliberately, watching every flicker of pleasure cross your face. His thumb brushes your clit in lazy circles, coaxing soft moans from your throat.

“Let me take my time with you,” he whispers, eyes locked on yours.

You nod, gasping softly. “Please…”

He moves down your body, kissing your stomach, your thighs, until he’s nestled between your legs. The first slow drag of his tongue makes you cry out, hips lifting into his mouth. He hums softly, like he’s savoring every taste, every sound you make. His fingers slide inside you as his tongue moves in tandem, drawing you closer and closer until you're trembling.

When he finally pulls away, his mouth shiny with you, he kisses your inner thigh and crawls back up your body.

“You taste like heaven,” he murmurs, voice wrecked with want. He hooks his fingers in the side of your underwear, slowly pulling the fabric down your legs, lips following as he kisses down to your ankle.

He comes back up, dark eyes peering into yours. He strokes his finger along your cheek, watching the flutter of your eyelashes as you close your eyes. The feel of his warm skin against yours is familiar, and you wish you could stay like this forever.

He slides inside you slowly, stretching you with that delicious, familiar fullness. You both gasp, his forehead pressed to yours, hands holding your hips like he’s anchoring himself in the moment.

Nothing rushed. Just you and him, rocking together in the fading light. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close as he moves deep and slow, every stroke like a promise.

He whispers to you the whole time, how much he loves you, how beautiful you are, how lucky he feels that you’re his. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, your mouth. You whisper back, your heart open, your body open, just for him.

“I love you,” he whispers. “So much.”

Your hands cradle his face as you kiss him. “I love you too. So much it hurts.”

The air is thick with heat and emotion, your bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. His name leaves your lips over and over like a prayer as he keeps whispering sweet things between moans.

“You’re everything to me…” “I want to give you everything…” “You’ll be such a good mother…” “You’re mine. Always.”

It builds slowly, wave after wave of pleasure curling tighter inside you. And when it crashes, it’s with a sob of his name, your whole body trembling in his arms.

He follows moments later, spilling deep inside you with a quiet groan, hips pressing flush against yours as he holds you tight.

After you stay tangled up in each other, his head resting on your chest, your fingers tracing down his nose, his jaw, his lips. The room is quiet again, filled with the sound of your breathing and the soft wind rolling off the sea.

You look toward the open doors, the sky now turning dusky pink.

“Do you think… it could happen this time?” you ask, voice barely audible.

Kylian lifts his head, eyes soft and full of love. “If it does… amazing. If not, then we try again. As many times as it takes. I’ll never stop wanting this with you.”

You smile, pulling him back in for a kiss. Relishing this perfect moment wrapped around each other in gold, warmth, and love, it feels like a beginning.

[junkissed]

too hot to handle

member — junhui x gn!reader genre — sfw, fluff, comfort word count — 1k synopsis — dinner in bed is nice, but sometimes things get a little spicy. warnings — mentions of food and eating, reader doesn't eat/like spicy food (the title is a joke this is not smut it's not even a teeny bit suggestive. just pure fluff !!) notes — requested by @onlymingyus — so actually i am a big fat liar nsjdghf i randomly felt motivated to write jun fluff today bc i miss him so here's a little drabble from my inbox :-) my requests are still closed and i'm still on hiatus-ish, but i hope you enjoy!

the sound of loud slurping noises pulls your attention away from the tv as you lay in bed, tangled up in jun’s side with a bowl of ramen on your lap.

“you're doing that on purpose, aren't you?”

“doing what?” he mumbles through a mouthful of food as he looks up from his bowl, half a noodle still hanging between his lips before he swallows it up.

you stare at him for a moment. the look on his face is so cute that you can't tell if his ignorance is feigned or not, but does it really matter? you're going to let him get away with it either way. “nevermind,” you answer after a minute, and he shrugs and happily goes back to finishing up his dinner.

you stretch your back and relax into the pillows, and automatically jun lifts his arm so you can settle into his side. he always adjusts so you have a comfortable place to lean on, even if it hinders his ability to eat. your elbow rests on his hip as you lay against him, propping yourself up to balance your own bowl.

the tv plays quietly, a new drama that the two of you have been watching together the past few weeks. but it's just background noise; it might as well have been muted, because you'd stopped listening to it a while ago. it's the first night in too long that you've been able to spend time with jun uninterrupted, and you'd much rather focus on him. with both of your busy and exhausting lives, lazy evenings and dinner in bed have become few and far between lately, so you savor every moment you can get with him.

he slurps his ramen again, and now you're sure he was doing it on purpose because this time he does it much quieter than before. you can't help the smile that makes its way onto your face as you bring a spoonful to your own mouth, shaking your head in enamored fondness.

you lean your head back against his shoulder to look up at him. you don't know how he does it. how he manages to make you fold when he's not even trying.

he flashes you a grin when he sees you staring and he slurps from his spoon, this time making it clear he wants you to know he's doing it intentionally. you laugh softly move your head down towards the screen again, but he hums out a little noise and you pause to glance back up at him.

“wait a second,” he says after swallowing the broth in his mouth. he puts down his spoon and uses his free hand to tilt your chin up towards him, two gentle fingers guiding your cheek.

you follow his eyes as he stares down at your lips, and for a second you think he's going to kiss you. but instead he brushes his thumb across your lip, wiping away a stray piece of carrot from the corner of your mouth, and you feel your cheeks flush with heat.

“is that all?” you say, and he lets out a little hum in disagreement as he stares at you. you lick your lips reflexively under his gaze, your eyes never leaving his. the dim light from the tv makes him look even prettier, you think, studying the fuzzy outline of his features in the darkness.

“mmm… no, i think i missed a spot, actually.”

this time he leans down to kiss you and you crane your neck up to meet his lips, breaking into a smile as you feel him press against your mouth. your eyes flutter shut at the familiar movement of his lips moving with yours, so natural and warm and tender like it's the easiest thing in the world.

he pulls away after a second and sighs, settling back against the headboard of the bed and adjusting you in his arms. distantly you hear the drama's theme song playing in the background as the credits of the episode flash across the screen, but you don't care about following the story anymore.

at this moment you're more concerned with the biting warmth spreading across your lips, so you wipe the back of your hand against your mouth, and he lets out a little whine. “hey, why’d you do that?” he pouts. “don't wipe off my kisses. you're making me sad.”

“because you're burning my mouth! your ramen's too spicy for me,” you tease as you pout back at him, reaching across him to set your own half-empty bowl on the nightstand.

he grabs your wrist before you pull back and brings your hand up to his mouth. without having to ask you sigh, knowing what he wants, and you swipe your thumb over his lips even though there's nothing there.

“there. all gone, no more spice,” he hums with a smile and he gently releases your hand. you let your arm fall onto his lap, resting across his body and curling around his waist to pull him closer to you. “now come here and let me kiss you again, i have to replace the one you wiped off.”

you groan and pretend to roll your eyes, but you don't hesitate when he leans back in to capture your lips again. the heat is easy to put up with; you don't mind his spicy kisses, if it means you get to have moments in bed together like this.

“i'm gonna make you brush your teeth before you kiss me next time,” you grumble, but it's not hard to tell that your threats are empty.

jun just giggles and presses his lips against you once more, this time on your cheek by the corner of your mouth, because it's clear you're not serious nor upset. the days of being grossed out by each other have long since passed, and you'll gladly take a sloppy kiss from him any day. “love you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[starwovenkiss]

goodnight n go

You continue your daily tradition of calling Kyle while he's away for deployment. A/N: this man has unfortunately taken up too much real estate in my brain and at this point, the only solution is to write it out. <3

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─ ─ ⋅

The dial tone rings, and you count the seconds until he answers. Thirty-two today, nine quicker than yesterday.

“‘Ello love.” A murmured drawl crackles through, and you smile, turning over into the pillow directly next to you. You take a deep inhale, savoring the fact that Kyle’s body wash still lingers. You know you have another week before it fades completely. “It’s a bit late for you to call me. I thought you would’ve been asleep by now.”

“I was,” you giggle, “but I had a dream about you.”

“A dream, eh? And what was this dream about?” You roll your eyes at the shift of tone, knowing that if he were here, he would get a smack in the face with his pillow for the innuendo. And your heart tightens, wishing for a moment that he was lying right next to you instead of 5,000 miles away in some war-torn country.

“Our first date,” you hear his chuckle, smiling at your memory. You close your eyes, painting a picture of the freckles that litter his nose, the whiskey color of his eyes, and his flat curls after lying in bed all night. Your fingers reach out, feeling cold sheets rather than the warmth of where his hand should be.

“Tell me about it,” he asks smoothly.

“You should know, you were there,” you laugh.

“I still wanna hear.”

“Well, you were late.”

“Only by 15 minutes. You’ve been way later than that!”

“It was our first date!” you giggle. “And you were wearing flip-flops!”

“I didn’t know I needed to dress up,” he groans. “We were best friends! We had hung out by ourselves all the time.”

“Kyle, we grew up together. You would think I would’ve taught you how to impress a girl on a first date by the time you were 25 years old!” you laugh incredulously, and you hear his laugh back. 

The window creaks slightly as an evening breeze passes through, open to combat the summer heatwave in England. You smile fondly. It had been sweltering the day the two of you met. You were running down the street, chasing the ice cream truck, and were short a few pence for an ice lolly. Only seconds away from putting it back, when Kyle, a boy with sunburned cheeks and grass stains on his knees, stepped in without hesitation. He handed over his allowance and just grinned when you tried to protest. You shared it with him, of course, and from that moment on, the two of you were inseparable.

It wasn’t until he turned sixteen that something shifted. His voice dropped. His limbs stretched. His back straightened like he was growing into a version of himself the rest of the world hadn’t seen yet. Gone was the scrawny boy who still secretly collected trading cards and snuck over to yours to watch rom-coms under the guise of “movie night.”

And you weren’t the only one who noticed. Girls started paying attention, laughing loudly at his jokes, twirling their hair around their fingers. You told yourself the jealousy was just a habit. That it only hurt because you’d gotten used to having all of him. 

It wasn't until after his first deployment that the fear of losing him completely led you to reckon with the love you had been trying not to name since you two met.

“I’m pretty lucky that you gave me a second chance then.” Kyle’s smile laces every word, and you shuffle closer to his side of the bed as if you can will him closer to you by moving into the space he normally occupies.

“Well, you brought me flowers!”

“Lilies. Your favorite.” And almost instinctively, your gaze catches the vase of lilies on your nightstand, delivered the day Kyle left for deployment. Your brows knit as a petal falls, the dying buds serving as a marker for how long Kyle’s been gone.

He hears the pause, and always Kyle seems attuned to the shift in your emotions even through a phone call, so when he suggests “tell me more,” you follow. 

“At least the restaurant you picked was nice.” The cafe was only a short walk from your apartments, perfect for Kyle to show up grinning ear to ear at your apartment door, holding a bouquet of lilies. You had spent the entire morning on the phone with your friend, worried that you were making the wrong decision, and that would be the end of you and Kyle. That everything would be weird and awkward with this new romantic subtext in your friendship. But when you looked down and met eyes with a pair of thong flip-flops, you couldn’t help but laugh in relief that Kyle would always be Kyle.

“I miss you,” You whisper. He’s quiet for a beat too long, and the absence of his voice feels like a weight in your chest. You briefly wonder if you overstepped. It’s not easy, you knew that before you even started dating Kyle, comforting him as ex-girlfriends couldn’t handle the strain of not seeing him for months and months. Yet you could’ve never imagined yourself in the same position of wanting more from a man who could only give so much.

“I miss you more,” he whispers back, voice hoarse with longing.

You're quiet, and you can almost see Kyle’s frown before you hear it in the next words that leave his mouth.

“You’ll call me tomorrow, yeah?”

“Of course. I love you,” You whisper, barely audible over the rustle of the sheets as you shift beneath the sheets.

“I love you always. Now get some rest. I’ll be here until you fall asleep.” You set your phone beside you, eyes fluttering close at the gentle hum of Kyle’s chatter. 

Forty-eight minutes tonight, seven longer than yesterday.

[xianji]

osamu x reader

wc: 600 i thibk

it’s late, the kind of late where the streets outside are quiet and the sky is painted that deep navy blue that comes right before black. the shop is technically closed, but the lights are still on, casting a warm glow over the wooden counter and cozy chairs. you’re sitting on one of the stools, chin in your hand, watching osamu move around behind the counter like he’s done this a thousand times.

because he has.

“you sure you don’t mind me hangin’ around?” you ask, even though you already know the answer. it’s a question you throw out just to hear his voice.

he glances over his shoulder, one brow raised. “d’ya ask me that every time just so i’ll tell ya to stay again?”

you smile. “maybe.”

he shakes his head, but there’s the smallest grin tugging at his lips as he turns back to the rice cooker. he’s got his sleeves rolled up, forearms dusted with bits of rice and sesame. it’s quiet for a bit, just the sound of him moving around and the soft hum of whatever old jazz song he’s got playing in the background. this place is his, every inch of it, and you like being here because when you’re here, it feels a little like you’re his, too.

he finally sets down a fresh plate in front of you—two onigiri, perfectly shaped. “try these,” he says, leaning on the counter to watch your reaction.

you bite into it and tilt your head. “hmm… secret recipe? or are you just trying to impress me again?”

“yeah,” he says, clearly pleased. “thought i’d try somethin’ different.”

you chew slowly, savoring it. “samu, this is unreal. you’re gonna have people lining up just for this.”

he shrugs, but the tips of his ears are pink. “yeah, well… ‘m glad you like it.”

you glance at him, your heart doing that quiet little stutter it always does when he looks at you like that—like you’re not just another customer who stuck around too long. like maybe he’s been waiting for you to stay.

you set the plate down and rest your arms on the counter, leaning a little closer. “you know,” you say softly, “you could probably close the shop and still feed me every night. i wouldn’t complain.”

he snorts. “you plannin’ on freeloadin’ off me, is that it?”

“maybe,” you tease, nudging his arm. “but only if you let me help out sometimes.”

he looks at you for a second—really looks at you. then he says, a little quieter than before, “you already help, y’know. just by bein’ here.”

your throat feels tight all of a sudden, and you duck your head to hide your smile. he’s not the kind of guy to say things like that often. when he does, it always sticks.

he walks around the counter, standing beside you now, and taps your leg lightly with his knee. “c’mon. help me close up. then i’ll walk you home.”

you hop off the stool, brushing crumbs off your clothes. “deal. but only if you promise to let me come by tomorrow.”

he pauses in the middle of wiping a table and turns to you, eyes soft. “you don’t gotta ask.”

and maybe it’s not a grand confession. maybe it’s not a dramatic moment under fireworks or in the rain.

but it’s enough.

and when you leave the shop with his hand brushing yours, with leftover onigiri in a paper bag and the promise of another quiet evening just like this one, you think—this might be the start of something really, really good.

[purinbunnii]

Stormbound

Sylus held you close, his fingertips dancing along your spine, tracing invisible promises against your bare skin. Rain pattered against the windows, a gentle backdrop to the rhythm of your breathing. It was late, but neither of you had found sleep just yet, content instead to savor these quiet moments in each other’s warmth.

“Still awake, kitten?” Sylus murmured, lips brushing lightly across your forehead. His voice was heavy with something possessive, a warmth edged with the unmistakable hint of craving.

You hummed softly, curling closer into his embrace. “Can’t seem to fall asleep.”

His arms tightened slightly, protective. “Thinking too much again, darling?” He tilted your chin upward, his red eyes gleaming in the faint glow of moonlight. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“Just… you,” you admitted softly, your heart fluttering beneath the intensity of his gaze.

A slow, satisfied smile curved across his lips, and Sylus leaned down, pressing his mouth to yours. It was possessive yet gentle, his tongue brushing against yours in a deep, drawn-out kiss that left your toes curling. When he pulled back slightly, his voice was husky, breath tickling your lips. “You always think of me, sweetie?”

“Always,” you whispered, eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

“Good,” he purred, fingers threading gently through your hair. He tugged just enough to tilt your head, exposing the delicate line of your throat. “Because I never stop thinking about you. Not even for a second.”

He kissed your neck, slow and deliberate, dragging his lips along your skin with almost worshipful reverence. His breath was warm, his teeth grazing you just enough to make your breath hitch. “You’re everything, kitten. Every damn breath I take is for you.”

His hand slid lower, grazing over your ribs, your hips, and finally between your thighs. He moved with certainty, fingers teasing your slick folds with practiced ease. You whimpered, thighs twitching under his touch.

“So wet for me already,” he breathed, voice low and dark, laced with pride. “Did my kisses get you like this? Or are you just always this needy when I’m around?”

“Sylus… please,” you gasped, arching your hips toward his hand.

He chuckled, low and dangerous, before pressing two fingers into you with slow precision. You cried out, clinging to him as he filled you, curling his fingers just right.

“There it is,” he murmured. “That pretty little sound I like so much. You feel that, kitten? How perfectly your body takes me in?”

His thumb circled your clit while his fingers moved inside you, coaxing wave after wave of pleasure from your trembling body. You bit your lip to stifle the moans, but he caught your chin, forcing your gaze back to his.

“No hiding,” he growled. “I want to hear every damn sound you make when I touch you. You’re mine, and I want you loud.”

Your orgasm crept up slowly, overwhelming you in ripples as his name fell from your lips in a breathless chant. He kissed you through it, never stopping, devouring every shiver.

When he finally removed his fingers, he brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan. “You taste like sin, darling. Like something forbidden.”

He moved over you, guiding his cock to your entrance. The head pushed in slow, stretching you inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. You both gasped—he from the tight warmth gripping him, and you from the way he filled you so completely.

“Fuck… you feel like heaven, kitten,” he growled against your ear. “Like you were made to take me.”

He rolled his hips, setting a deep, dragging rhythm that had your nails clawing at his back. Each thrust was deliberate, grinding against your sweet spot, drawing cries from your throat with every stroke.

“That’s it, pretty thing. Moan for me. Let me hear how much you love being mine.”

“Yours, Sylus,” you gasped, clinging to him. “I’m yours.”

“Say it again,” he groaned, pace quickening.

“I’m yours,” you cried, your voice breaking.

He kept his thrusts slow but powerful, angling his hips with every movement to keep you teetering on the edge. One of his hands slid under your thigh, lifting your leg to get deeper, hitting that spot that made you shatter. He was relentless—every stroke purposeful, every word dripping with filth and love.

“Look at you, kitten. Taking me so damn good. Gripping me like your body knows who it belongs to.”

You could barely speak—moans tumbling uncontrollably from your lips as his name left you again and again.

“That’s it, sweetie. Come for me again,” he growled, slamming into you with just enough bite to make your toes curl. “Let me feel you lose it.”

Your second orgasm crashed over you like a wave, body trembling violently beneath him. Sylus didn’t stop—he drove you through it, hips never faltering, his breath ragged.

“So fucking tight… fuck, I’m gonna—” he groaned deeply, burying himself to the hilt as he spilled inside you, hot and thick. He held you close, breathing hard against your shoulder as he rode out the last of it.

He didn’t move for a moment, just stayed there, buried inside you, his forehead pressed to yours. “You wreck me, kitten,” he whispered, voice raw. “Every damn time.”

Eventually, he eased out of you, careful and slow, before rising briefly to return with a warm cloth. He cleaned you up gently, not saying much—but the care in his touch said everything.

When he was done, he slipped back under the blankets and pulled you to his chest, arms wrapped protectively around you. His fingers traced soft, lazy patterns on your hip.

“Next time the rain comes,” he whispered, brushing his lips against your hairline, “I’m going to take my time all over again. Gonna fuck you slow until you forget your own name.”

You smiled sleepily, sinking deeper into his warmth.

“But for now, rest, sweetie. I’ve got you.”

Outside, the storm whispered softly, keeping your secrets as Sylus held you tighter, his body wrapped around yours like armor. And finally, with his breath in your hair and his warmth seeping into your bones, you surrendered to sleep.

[drfranklangdon]

Inspired by @piratefalls ‘s post

Buck attempts to shift himself onto his stomach to sneak in ten more minutes of sleep before he needs to shower and get ready for work, but he’s pinned to the bed by an arm splayed across his chest. The muscley arm of his boyfriend. Just thinking about that word causes Buck’s insides to flip. He has a boyfriend. A big, strong, beast of a boyfriend – who looks like a vision as he softly snores next to him.

Buck and Tommy were at the same apartment fire downtown last night. Half of LA’s stations were there. It took all that combined manpower to finally put out the fire that had spread to all twenty floors of the building. Buck didn’t even have time to quickly meet up with Tommy and tell him how hot he looked landing the chopper on a flame-engulfed rooftop. All he could do was wave as he flew away and deal with the (not so) gentle ribbing of his team making whip sounds at him.

A little bit after the fire was put out, the 118 were dispatched to another call. They didn’t need as many stations there for the cleanup and triage. As they were driving away, he saw Lucy loading another victim into the back of Tommy’s chopper – his third trip back from Presbyterian. He ended up making another two before the end of his shift.

Buck’s shift ended first. He changed and went to Tommy’s to surprise him with dinner after a long and exhausting shift. As of late, Buck has been staying at Tommy’s more than going home to the loft. Even though it’s a longer drive to the 118, nothing beats getting to wake up next to (or entangled with) his boyfriend.

Buck wanted to stay up and wait for Tommy, but he was exhausted himself and ended up passing out hours before Tommy got home. Around midnight, Tommy buried his face into Buck’s neck, apologizing for waking him up – not like he had to. Buck will always savor every second he gets with his boyfriend. With the man he’s fallen for.

Tommy was misty-eyed as he recalled his last transfer. They didn’t get to the hospital in time. The patient, a college student, succumbed to her injuries minutes before they landed. Lucy tried to perform compressions, but there was no use – she was gone.

It’s part of the job. Both have lost plenty of people with the LAFD. Doesn’t make it any easier. One of the perks of dating another first responder is having someone who knows exactly what it feels like. The regret, the blame, the what ifs – Buck’s been there. Been there more times than he can count.

So even when his muscles were steeped in exhaustion and he had an early shift the next morning, Buck gave Tommy what he needed. He held him down and sank into him, fucking him slowly and reverently until his mind was clouded with only thoughts of him and their shared connection. He showered him in praise, worshiped every patch of skin he could reach and reminded him of all the good he’s done. How he’s worthy of the pleasure he’s giving him. How loved he is.

It’s an act of service that Buck is usually on the other end of. He’s more likely to bring home the trauma of work – he’s over-emotional, he’s too much at times, he’s exhausting – yet time and time again, Tommy takes care of him. The least he could do was return the favor last night.

Buck watches Tommy sleep for a few minutes. He’s beautiful, a work of art unlike Buck’s ever seen before. His chiseled muscles and cleft chin are so handsome, so masculine – it takes his breath away watching him. Sometimes Buck feels like he needs to pinch himself. He still can’t believe this side of himself was hidden away for so long. How he couldn’t see who he was after years of searching for it. But, if he came out before, who knows if he would have met Tommy? Who knows if he would have happiness like he’s found with his boyfriend? He’s right where he’s meant to be, when he’s supposed to be.

Buck turns his alarm off before it wakes Tommy. He kisses the top of his head and slides out from under his (beefy) grip to start getting ready for work. He does his morning routine, basking in the smell of Tommy’s shampoo and soap on his skin. He’s never going back to his old brand. Not when he can have Tommy’s signature cedar scent on him all day, reminding him who he’s going home to at the end of his shift. He throws on one of Tommy’s hoodies (for the same reason) and a pair of dark jeans.

When Buck makes it back to the bedroom, Tommy is still fast asleep – snoring louder now that his mouth isn’t muffled by Buck’s neck. He kneels on the bed and lays a quick kiss to Tommy’s bare shoulder. He really wants a proper goodbye kiss before work, but he’d rather let his boyfriend sleep.

But then Tommy turns over on his side, pulling Buck into a patented Thomas Kinard bear hug. “C’mere.” He grumbles, barely awake. His eyes are still closed.

“Babe, I have work.” He whispers into Tommy’s jaw. Tommy’s lucky enough to have today off. “I’m coming over later.”

“You’ll be coming alright.” He smirks, still in a sleepy daze.

“Okay old man.” Buck laughs, prying himself from his boyfriend’s grasp. He kisses Tommy again, this time on the lips. “Get some rest so I can hold you to that…” He can’t help it - He kisses him again, this time lingering for a few seconds.

“Mmm hmm.” He burrows his face further into the pillow, falling back asleep. Buck stands up and checks his watch, seeing he’s officially running late. Great. “Stay safe, love you.”

Buck freezes. He turns back to see Tommy is out. “Babe?” He questions. He doesn’t get a response. He’s not sure if Tommy was even awake when he said it. But he definitely said it. Said that all important four-letter word. A word they had yet to say to each other. Until now.

All Buck can think about is another four-letter word - Fuck.

[sherewrytes]

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The suave, well-dressed plug who always greets you with that calm, confident smile, making you feel like the most important person in the room, even when you're just picking up a simple drop.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who never rushes the transaction, taking his time to chat, asking about your day and subtly making you feel like he’s genuinely interested in you—because he is, but he never says it outright.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The one who offers you his best product, whispering, "I know you’ll appreciate this," with a knowing smile, as if he’s got the best taste in everything—and you can’t help but agree.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who always knows what you need before you do, having your favorite strain ready and waiting, just because he’s been paying attention, making you wonder if he’s been thinking about you in between his hustles.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who leans in just a little too close when he hands you your package, his breath warm on your skin, and his eyes locking with yours for a second too long, sending a shiver down your spine.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who never forgets your personal stash of snacks, showing up with your favorite treats every time, as if he’s made it part of the deal to keep you satisfied on every level.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who shoots you a text at 2 a.m. with a simple, "Need anything?"—and you know it’s not just business, it’s his way of checking in on you, keeping you close without saying too much.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The one who always finds a way to get a little extra time with you, whether it’s offering to light the blunt himself or casually suggesting a "quick chat" before you leave, just to keep you in his orbit a little longer.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The kind of plug who never leaves anything to chance, always a step ahead, knowing exactly when you need him, what you need, and how to deliver it with that smooth, almost predatory precision.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who leans in just a bit too close, the scent of his cologne intoxicating, his gaze never leaving yours as he hands over the product with a smirk that says, "You know what this is."

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who doesn’t just offer you the best, he savors watching you take it in, eyes darkening as he watches you roll it, his voice low as he murmurs, "I picked this just for you. You’re gonna love it."

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The type to pull you aside for a private conversation, slipping his hand around your waist, keeping you close as he checks in on your dealings, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip like a silent promise—you’re his now.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who watches you with a glint in his eyes when you leave, not bothering to hide the possessive look in his gaze, as if daring anyone to make a move on you, knowing you won’t look anywhere else.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who insists on sparking the blunt with you, just to feel the heat of your fingers brush his, eyes narrowing as he watches you inhale, thinking to himself, "I’m the only one who can give you what you need."

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who texts you late at night with something simple, like, "You’re still good, right?"—but you can hear the unspoken weight in his words, as if he's just making sure no one else has access to you.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The kind of plug who doesn't just want your business; he wants your attention, your loyalty, your trust—and he won’t stop until he has you completely under his control, slowly, but steadily, getting deeper into your mind, your life, your thoughts.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who shows up unannounced, his presence in your space enough to make the air feel heavier, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that says he owns everything around you, and you can't help but feel the pull. He's not just your plug—he’s your tether.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who doesn’t just hand over the product, he delivers it to you, taking his time to make sure every exchange feels personal, as if each moment is an extension of his control over you, making sure you know that the power is always in his hands.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The one who makes it clear that his connections run deeper than you think, casually mentioning a name or two—people you don’t want to cross—and watching the way your eyes widen, enjoying the subtle intimidation that comes with being close to him.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who, after every drop, leans in with a soft chuckle, tracing the edge of your jaw with his fingers, a gentle yet possessive touch that says, "You think you can get this from anyone else?" He already knows the answer, and so do you.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who never lets you forget that he’s the one you turn to when you need more than just product—he’s the one who can take care of you, protect you, keep you safe from everything and everyone else who dares get too close.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The kind who calls you when he’s not expecting anything in return, just to check in on you, his voice a little deeper than usual, a warning hidden behind the sweetness. "You know I’ve got eyes everywhere, right?"

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who takes note of every little detail about you, from your favorite drink to how you react when someone gets too close—because he likes knowing what makes you tick, what makes you his, even when you think you’re hiding it.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The kind who, when you least expect it, shows up at your door unannounced, a knowing grin on his face as he says, "I just wanted to see you." And you know—he’s not just talking about the transaction. His gaze is too intense, his proximity too close. He wants you.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who, after a long night of business, grabs you by the wrist, pulling you toward him with a grip that’s a little too firm, a little too possessive, whispering against your ear, "You’re mine now, don’t forget that." The words hit you harder than the blunt ever could.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The one who knows you better than anyone else, picking up on your moods, your shifts in energy, and slipping into your life when you least expect it, his presence an inescapable force—because he knows he’s the only one who can keep you grounded, even if you’re not aware of it yet.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who, after every drop, stays just a little longer, making sure you don’t forget who made it happen. "I’ll be around," he says, voice low, eyes fixed on yours. "Don’t think you can walk away from me. Not that easily."

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The one who doesn’t just tease—he controls. When he lights the blunt, he holds it just out of your reach, watching the way your lips part, eyes hazy with anticipation. “You want it? Ask me nicely.” His voice drips with authority, daring you to resist.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who leans back with that smug, all-knowing smirk when you finally give in, inhaling deeply before leaning in to blow the smoke into your mouth, his eyes fixed on you as if claiming every part of you in that moment. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The type who knows exactly how to unravel you, his hands skimming your thighs as he sits next to you, close enough for your bodies to touch, his voice a low, commanding growl, “Tell me how much you need me, baby. Say it, and maybe I’ll give you more.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who takes pleasure in your every reaction, his lips barely grazing your ear as he murmurs, “I can feel how much you want me. Don’t hold back now. Show me who you really belong to.” His hand grips your chin, tilting your face up to meet his dark, hungry gaze.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who thrives on the control, his hand trailing down your back, his touch deliberate, calculated, as he whispers against your skin, “You think you can handle me? Prove it. I want to see you beg for what only I can give you.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The kind who pulls you onto his lap, his hands firmly gripping your hips, guiding you exactly where he wants you. His eyes burn with intensity as he smirks, “You’re not leaving until I’m done with you, baby. Let’s see how long you can keep up.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who doesn’t just own the moment—he dominates it. His lips find yours in a rough, possessive kiss, one hand tangled in your hair as he pulls you closer, claiming every inch of you. When he finally pulls back, his voice is a hoarse whisper: “You taste like mine.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who presses you against the wall, his body caging yours as his fingers trace the curve of your neck. His lips brush against your ear, his breath hot as he growls, “No one else gets this. No one else gets you. You’re mine—don’t ever forget that.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who leaves you breathless, your body trembling under his touch as he watches with that same smug, satisfied smirk. “I told you, didn’t I?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across your lips. “You’ll always come back to me.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The one who lets you think you’re in control for a moment, only to pull you back under his spell with a single touch, a single command. His presence is overwhelming, intoxicating, and you find yourself craving more, even when you know it’s dangerous. He’s a risk you’re willing to take

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The air between you two is thick with unspoken tension, the kind that’s been building over every encounter, every lingering touch, every whispered promise. Tonight, it finally snaps.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who shows up late, unannounced, leaning against your doorframe with that dangerous smirk, eyes dark and full of intent. He steps inside without waiting for an invitation, his presence filling the room. “You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?” His voice is low, a little rough around the edges.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The type to corner you immediately, his body pressed against yours as his hand slides up your waist. He tilts your chin up with two fingers, his lips inches from yours, teasing as he murmurs, “Tell me you want this.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: When you finally give in, breathless and desperate, he claims your mouth with a bruising kiss, his hands gripping your body like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. His touch is firm, possessive, as if staking his claim. “I’ve been waiting for this, baby. Don’t hold back on me now.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who takes his time exploring every inch of you, his hands and lips trailing fire along your skin. He revels in your reactions—the gasps, the whimpers, the way your body arches into his touch, silently begging for more. His voice drops to a near growl: “You’re so fucking perfect.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who makes sure you know exactly who’s in control, his hands pinning your wrists above your head as he looms over you, his gaze heavy and predatory. “I want to hear you say my name,” he demands, his tone leaving no room for argument.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: When you do, his expression shifts—satisfaction mixed with raw desire. “That’s my girl,” he mutters before diving back in, his lips and hands everywhere, overwhelming your senses.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The one who knows exactly how to draw every ounce of pleasure from you, his touch alternating between gentle and rough, keeping you on edge, making you crave more with every second. “You’re mine now,” he growls, his voice vibrating against your skin. “And I’m going to make sure you never forget it.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who doesn’t just focus on his own pleasure—he’s meticulous, watching every move, every reaction, making sure you’re completely unraveled beneath him. His voice is laced with arrogance and affection as he whispers, “I want to see you fall apart for me.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: When you finally do, trembling and breathless beneath him, he holds you close, his lips brushing against your temple as he murmurs, “That’s it, baby. You’re mine now. Always.” There’s no mistaking the finality in his tone—this is more than just a moment; it’s a declaration.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: After, as you lie tangled together, he lights a blunt, taking a deep drag before passing it to you. His arm drapes possessively over your waist, his voice still thick with satisfaction. “No one else gets this,” he mutters, his lips grazing your shoulder. “No one else gets you. Just me.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Dating him is like stepping into a whirlwind of luxury and danger. He’s not just your man; he’s your protector, provider, and biggest indulgence

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who insists on being part of the experience, pulling you close as you model outfits for him in private dressing rooms. His hands slide down your waist, his voice low and possessive. “This one’s nice, but I think it’d look better on the floor later.” His smirk sends shivers down your spine.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The kind of man who doesn’t just buy you things—he takes pride in seeing you shine. Every time you step out in something he bought, his eyes darken with pride and hunger. “Damn, baby. Everyone’s looking at you. Let them—they need to know you’re mine.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who makes sure you’re always riding in style, surprising you with keys to a luxury car one day, leaning against it with his signature smirk as he says, “You deserve to ride like a queen. Only the best for my girl.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who doesn’t stop at material things—he invests in your comfort and happiness. He books spontaneous getaways to five-star resorts, private villas, or even a weekend in the city, where he can spoil you in more ways than one. “We work hard, baby. Let’s play harder.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who loves seeing you pampered, scheduling spa days for you where he occasionally joins, but not before leaving you with a parting kiss and a promise: “I’ll be waiting when you’re done. Don’t take too long, though—I need you back in my arms.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who doesn’t let a day go by without reminding you who’s in control. He’s sweet, yes, but there’s always that edge, that dark possessiveness lurking beneath the surface. “You know you’re the only one for me,” he murmurs one night as he pulls you into his lap, his eyes locked onto yours. “But don’t forget—you belong to me too.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The man who’s fiercely protective, always ensuring you’re safe. If someone even thinks about crossing a line, he’s quick to remind them of his presence. “Mess with her, and you mess with me,” he says, his voice calm but laced with a deadly promise. No one dares to test him twice.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who keeps you grounded even as he elevates your life. Late at night, after the chaos of his world dies down, it’s just the two of you tangled in bed. His voice is softer then, his touch tender. “I got you, baby. Always. Don’t ever doubt that.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: And when he sees the contentment in your eyes, the way you’ve fully embraced this life with him, he can’t help but smirk. “Told you, didn’t I? No one can take care of you like I can. You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget it.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who never bothers with cards. Instead, he hands you thick stacks of cash, bound with crisp rubber bands. He smirks as you take them, his voice low and smooth. “Make sure you stay looking good for me, ma. I want you shining every time I see you.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who insists on keeping you pampered, always booking your hair, nail, and lash appointments before you even realize you need them. “Your girl’s gotta stay top-tier,” he says, leaning back in his chair, watching you with hooded eyes as you thank him.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The type who pulls you close after you get dolled up, his hands grazing your waist as he murmurs, “You look unreal, baby. Every dude in this room’s jealous, but too bad—they’ll never have what’s mine.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who makes sure your wardrobe stays fresh. He casually drops off bags of designer clothes, lingerie, and heels. When you question him, he just shrugs, “I like spoiling you. Let me.” His tone makes it clear that this isn’t up for debate.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who keeps your vanity stocked with the best makeup, perfumes, and skincare, knowing that every detail counts. He leans over as you’re getting ready, kissing your shoulder and whispering, “You don’t need all this, but I love when you wear it for me.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who doesn’t let you carry a single worry. Need something paid? He’s already handled it. Want something new? It’s yours. “Money’s not an issue, baby. Just focus on looking good and staying happy for me.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who loves showing you off, taking you to exclusive parties where every eye is on you. He keeps his hand on your lower back, guiding you through the crowd, his smirk never wavering. “Let them look. They’ll never touch.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who makes it his mission to keep you comfortable and secure. He slips extra cash into your bag whenever he leaves, kissing your forehead and saying, “Just in case you need anything while I’m out.” Even when you don’t need it, he ensures you never have to ask.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The kind of man who demands loyalty but gives it tenfold. His world may be dangerous, but he keeps you insulated from it. “You’re my priority,” he tells you late at night, his fingers brushing through your hair. “I’ll never let anything touch you.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who thrives on seeing you live your best life. He loves the confidence in your walk, the glow in your smile. Every compliment you get fuels his pride, but he always reminds you, “Don’t forget who keeps you shining like this.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: After every luxury and indulgence, it’s the quiet moments that hit hardest. Late-night conversations, his voice soft yet commanding. “I don’t do this for anyone else. You’re the only one who gets me like this.” His words are as intoxicating as his presence.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: And when he pulls you close, his arm draped over your waist, he smirks against your neck, whispering, “Told you, baby—you’ll never need anyone else. I’ve got you. Always.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who has an unshakable routine of waking you up with breakfast-in-bed money. You’re still groggy, but there’s a crisp stack of bills next to your morning coffee, his note scrawled lazily: “For whatever you feel like today. Just tell me when you’re ready to roll.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who keeps his crew in check the moment they get too familiar with you. A sharp look from him is all it takes to silence any jokes. “Y’all better watch your mouths. That’s my girl you’re talking about.” His voice is calm, but the threat is palpable.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: The man who surprises you with trips, but not the kind that come with a lot of prep. He’ll pull you aside mid-week, kissing your temple and saying, “Pack a bag. We’re leaving tonight.” The destination? Anywhere that gets you alone with him, away from prying eyes.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who takes control during high-stakes moments but softens when you need him most. After a tense deal, he’ll come home to you, his shoulders relaxing the second he sees your face. His voice drops as he pulls you in: “Rough night, baby. I just need you.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who slips a diamond bracelet around your wrist during a random night in. No occasion, no preamble. He watches your reaction carefully, his thumb brushing over the clasp. “You deserve to sparkle, ma. Just like this.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who remembers every little thing you mention. The random candle scent you loved? He has six waiting for you at home. That new spot you said you wanted to try? He’s already booked a private table. “You think I don’t listen?” he teases, but his actions prove otherwise.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who thrives on intimacy beyond the physical. He sits with you during quiet moments, rolling a blunt for you both. As the smoke curls around you, his voice is soft but serious: “Tell me what’s on your mind, baby. I want to know everything.”

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who sends you videos of him handling business, not to show off but to remind you of the weight he carries to keep your life easy. The camera pans to his smirk, his deep voice saying, “All this? It’s for you.” The intensity in his eyes makes your stomach flip.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who makes every moment feel like a power move. Whether it’s walking into a room with you on his arm or sliding behind you on a private jet, his presence is magnetic, commanding attention. “They know what’s up,” he murmurs in your ear, his hand resting possessively on your thigh.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: Who can’t resist teasing you. Whether it’s playful taunts during an argument or subtle innuendos in public, he lives for your reactions. “Why you looking at me like that, ma? You know I got you wrapped around my finger.” His laugh is low, and his gaze burns with mischief.

𝙿𝚕𝚞𝚐 𝚂𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚞 𝙶𝚎𝚝𝚘: And yet, for all his dominance and swagger, he never misses a chance to make you feel cherished. Late at night, when the world is quiet, he brushes a strand of hair from your face, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re my peace, baby. Don’t forget that.”

[yoyomomiko]

BITE INTO ME

Pairings: Vampire!Feitan x F!reader

Summary: Feitan is usually under control, but ever since you joined the Phantom Troupe, he can't help but admire your blood each time it spills in battle. He simply wants a taste, always gazing at you with that look in his eyes that make your knees buckle. Just what happens when he catches you injured and vulnerable?

Warnings: BLOOD; wounds; slight gore (not really), MARKING; biting, CURSING, fighting, A BIT SUGGESTIVE but not really, Feitan's a little bitch, NOT PROOFREAD; might contain grammar mistakes, English is NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!!

(A/N): THIS WAS MY FAVOURITE FIC FROM MY HALLOWEEN SPECIAL AND I WAS WAITING TO WRITE THIS FOR SOOO LONG!! It honestly came out really good and this took me so long to write, but it was all worth it! -> halloween m.list

"Shit!" The word tore out of your mouth as you crashed down onto the cold and hard concrete. The impact shot blinding pain through your knees, your palms scraped against the rough ground, gravel scratching your skin as you caught yourself, fingers trembling.

You forced yourself to look up, breath ragged as you focused on the man in front of you, your target. He stood tall, his smirk barely hidden by his bloodstained lips. You could feel your heartbeat increasing, thudding in your ears, the harsh sting in your legs reminding you that you miscalculated and let your guard down at the wrong second.

Your mission, assigned by Chrollo, felt heavier than ever. And failure... Well, that wasn't an option.

You were new to the Phantom Troupe, fresh blood among a league of killers more ruthless and skilled than you could hope to be yet. The others were more used to pain, masters at controlling their suffering, all while you still feel every sting, every break in your body with too much clarity.

Your hand pressed over a gash on your arm, the sticky warmth of blood spreading over your palm. Even with a small amount of light, the red caught Feitan's gaze instantly. He stood nearby, his eyes fixed on the crimson streak trailing down your arm, and for a moment, he didn't look like your ally anymore, barely holding himself back.

"Get up." He murmured, voice low and almost irritated, yet his gaze remained glued to the blood. Despite the pain in your body, you could feel a chill run down your spine that had nothing to do with the target.

He stepped closer, almost too close. You could feel his gaze on you as you forced yourself to your feet, your knees throbbing and your arm slick with fresh blood. Feitan's eyes hadn't moved from you as the sting of your injuries were slowly fading.

The target lunged toward you again, throwing a punch with enough force to send you crashing back. Feitan moved in a blur, his hand grabbing the man's wrist with bone-crushing strength. His eyes widened in panic as he struggled, but it was far too late. Feitan twisted the man's arm with a snap, the sound making you sick as the target screamed in agony, all while listening to Feitan's degrading words.

Feitan shoved the man to the floor, glancing back at you, his eyes proving he was enjoying every second of this, savoring the moment.

Fueled by pain and anger, you stepped forward, fists clenched. You needed to prove you could handle this. Ignoring the pulsing ache in your legs, you moved quickly, catching the target off guard as he tried to recover from his broken arm and Feitan's brutal grip.

You drove your heel into his stomach, knocking the air out of him as he gasped. Feitan glanced at you with something that almost looked like approval.

Feitan, however, was far from finished. He crouched down in front of the gasping man, pulling out his thin sword with an unsettling smile on his face.

The target stuttered, but before he could get a word out, Feitan slashed a clean line across his chest, a slow cut that made the man yell out due to the horrifying pain. Feitan glanced at you, as if inviting you to finish it.

Gathering your strength, you gave a nod, stepping forward and delivering the final strike, driving your weapon down as the target's body went limp.

It was over, no other sound other than the slow drip of blood on the concrete.

You exhaled, the ache of your injuries coming back. Feitan's gaze was still on you, and this time, it trailed from the blood smearing on your hand to your bloodstained clothes.

"Not bad. Did good." He muttered, voice barely above a whisper. For a moment, you could almost feel the intensity of his gaze, as if the battle wasn't quite over yet, at least not for him.

"Thanks..." You huffed out, chest heaving up and down as you struggled to control your breath. You noticed Feitan's fangs peeking from behind his lips as his head was raised up, finally showing his full face.

"Be careful." His tone went softer, but it felt more like a warning than advice, as if he's reminding himself to stay in control.

...

...

...

You could sense Feitan's gaze burning through you, watching you closely. Little did you know, his control seemed to falter each time he saw blood. To be more specific, your blood.

Lately, he's been making up excuses to stand closer to you, or get into a mission along with you. His eyes betray every struggle to maintain his restraint, to hold back his thirst for just a taste. He always creeps up behind you, staring at you with piercing eyes.

You were wondering if it's because he hated you.

But that was not the case, no, not at all.

You accidentally cut your finger by accident due to playing around with your weapon. It wasn't anything serious by all means, but it was enough to draw blood. You thought you were alone, until you felt a familiar presence behind you, a shadow towering over you.

"Do you need anything?" You asked in a hushed tone, gently licking the blood from your finger, just to ease the sting up a bit. That didn't go unnoticed by Feitan.

"Just wanted to check." He replied, seeming unbothered. Truth is, he wanted to leap forward and bite into your neck, just to taste your blood, wich only seemed to cloud his mind each passing second.

Feitan's curiosity about you clearly grew, and he can no longer disguise the fact that he's drawn to you not just as a fellow fighter, but something more primal. His stare feels more intense, his presence darker. You caught him staring at you countless times, eyeing you from bottom to top.

"Check what?" You asked, titling your head to the side. Feitan thought you were teasing him, somehow always ending up full of blood and panting. It was as if you wanted him to just lick away at your wounds.

"Your cut. Let me see." He answered, grabbing your wrist and inspecting the way red seeped out of your small wound over your finger.

He gently brushed his finger over your injury, but it was for sure an accident as he got some of the blood on his own fingertips.

Feitan released your hand, letting it fall down slowly as you stared up at him, eyelashes kissing your cheeks each time you blinked, only provoking Feitan further.

He let out a silent groan, turning around and taking a quick glance at you, before exiting the room, leaving you dumbfounded.

What you didn't know, is that the moment Feitan was out of your sight, he began licking away the few drops of blood that smeared on his finger, the taste only feeding onto his desire and need for more.

...

...

...

You panted, pressing your hand over the harsh wound on your shoulder, sticky warm blood smearing everywhere. You were gravely injured, already completely vulnerable.

The rest of the Phantom Troupe were fighting against a rival gang, but the moment you got this badly wounded, you fled and found a hiding spot. You felt pathetic, as if you were betraying them by acting this weak, running away from battle.

One of the men from the rival gang got to you, the impact shooting a blinding pain through your whole arm. That sharp, jolting ache left you momentarily dazed, before you went into 'fight or flight' mode, and completely ran away.

Tears were threatening your eyes, not because of the burning agony you felt in your injuries, but because you were ashamed for what you've done.

Just then you heard footsteps, panic racing through your veins, your heartbeat increasing once more. You weren't sure if you were ready to fight, you were too vulnerable right now.

Feitan, shit, it was only Feitan.

Feitan had found you before the others, his eyes holding a dark edge to it. A glint that hinted he was savoring every second of watching you like this. You can feel the intensity of his struggle, the barely contained thirst as he kneels in front of you, one hand moving to steady you while the other traces a line close to your wound.

He hesitated, clenching his fists and trying to force them away from you, but he just couldn't.

"Just a taste?" He asked, voice low and hushed. It wasn't a question for your permission but of how much he can restrain himself.

You feel his cold fingers tilt your chin, his lips brushing dangerously close to your skin. His other hand hovered over your wound, his fingers ghosting across the torn fabric and the warmth of blood beneath.

His eyes flicked back to yours, enjoying your vulnerability, the quiet hitch in your breath as he leaned in closer. You swallowed, heart pounding as he watched you carefully, his lips tugging upwards in a dark and twisted smile, as if tormenting you.

He gripped your hand, the hand that you held over the bleeding gash in your shoulder. He took your hand off of where you were hiding your precious blood, gently placing it in your lap. The red slicked down your arm as you let out a hiss, the cold air hitting your open wound.

"Scared?" He asked, voice dropping to a whisper, taunting blended with something deeper, something dangerous.

Before you could answer, he closed the distance between you, his lips brushing the edge of your wound, so light you almost couldn't feel it. You held your breath, a stinging feeling in your chest.

All of the sudden, he pressed his fangs down. A sharp, electric pain mixed with something you couldn't quite name as his mouth touched your skin, savoring that first taste of blood.

Your breath hitched, and for a split second, the world faded, every surrounding disappearing as it was just you and him. From the firm press of his hands, to the cold touch of his fingers against your jaw, and the strange warmth of his mouth tracing the wound with a hunger that made your pulse race.

He pulled away slightly, only to dig his sharp teeth into your exposed skin, making you bleed as he drew more blood, tasting you completely, smearing the crimson on your clean skin. You let out a groan as he left a mark, licking away at the seeping red.

It was like every instinct you had was screaming at you to pull away, to move, to protect yourself. But something in his gaze held you frozen.

He drew back slightly, his lips stained faintly red as he looked down at you. His fingers traced down your jawline, gently brushing over your pulse as if feeling the rapid beat there.

"Weak." He murmured, almost a mockery, yet his grip on you was steady, gentle and careful.

You wanted to snap back, to defend yourself, but the pain and the fear left you speechless. A part of you knew you should've been scared, should've wanted to push him away. But he could easily overpower you, his eyes flaming as he studied you like you were fragile, something to be toyed with.

"Next time..." He whispered, lips close to your ear.

"Don't hide." He warned, letting his words sink in. With that, he released you, leaving you to steady yourself as he rose to his feet, his gaze still holding that twisted satisfaction.

Without another word, he turned around and walked away, the faintest hint of your blood smeared on his lips as he disappeared back into the battle, leaving you shaking and breathless, unable to decide if what you felt was fear, or something else entirely.

★yoyomiko ★miko

[peachyproserpina]

Nasty

Elliot x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Elliot made it into Corps training, you're making him late to the announcement.

Warnings: Elliot's mean, tardiness, swearing, sex, smut, spitting, semi-established AU(which will be introduced soon), as always MC/Reader is Fat

A bite before: @glassbxttless is the one who wrote this if I'm being honest. She managed to take my jumbled ramblings and translate them over to this beautiful little morsel.

Elliot is mean as he thrusts into you. His pace unforgiving as a warm palm makes sure you take every single inch of him. His grip firm on that fat-swell-handful, using the leverage to keep you pinned down against that uncomfortably cool table. You’re already fucked out and he’s barely begun. You were running behind today, fucking Dorris was late coming to relieve you, and you knew there’s that stupid meeting— no one from OP1 can be a second late for. Including the soon-to-be corpsman who is spitting right where he’s pounding. The fingers on his other hand mean and messy against your clit, a smile bright on his features as he makes you cream around his cock. 

“Fuckin’ told you, can’t be late to this.” Elliot’s thankful he’s got your wrists tied up behind your head and a fuckin rag from somewhere in this closet stuffed into your mouth. You’ve got those cute almost sparkly tears runnin’ down your cheeks and he knows that you’d be making those whiny sultry pleads to be able to cum already if your mouth wasn’t stuffed full. 

It’s desperate and messy, you’re already fucked out, but you know this song and dance deep down. You’ve been fucking like rabbits (much to Mac’s dismay). You’re very aware of how this is gonna go. He can’t drag this out how he usually likes, how he’d have you ride his boot and then make you clean up the mess. Or how he’d like to bend you over the nearest surface, or maybe how he’d like to have you sit on his face and ride him till your hips are rolling hard and pressing down proper. If Elliot dies right now, he may as well be in Heaven— or as close as he’s going to get anyway. Usually getting you so close too many times until you’re crying for him— begging with those breathy, “fuck” “Elliot” “Please Sir”’s. Maybe he’d let you cum once or twice, just to watch the way you melt for him. Before— if it’s a good day, (he’s between shifts at the hospital, you’re free from the diner, and Mac’s outta the apartment)— he starts it all over again. 

You’re whining loud, muffled through the makeshift gag— but he still catches it.— Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze, when you realize how loud you’re being. His thrusts even paced and not slowing down a bit. He’s watching the way your pupils are blown wide and trying not to roll back in your head. A satisfied smirk graces his features and a bead of sweat was rolling down his temple. Elliot is almost concerned with the volume, the wet slap of skin on skin as he’s pounding away, not subtle even in the slightest. If it weren’t for the rows and rows of stacked shelves between the two of you and the door, he’d bring himself to care more. If anyone were to walk in, they’d know exactly what you were up to if they dared to venture a few feet back. 

“Gonna fuckin’ pay for that, sweetheart.” He catches the way your manicured fingers flex and tense at his threat. 

You’re close. 

He savors the way you take him before he’s stopping, burying himself to the hilt in your greedy cunt. You can feel every fucking inch, and the way the hair at the base of his dick is pressing against your clit makes your eyes roll back in your head. You were so fucking close to the finish line, and the pause in his ministrations has you falling back from the edge of bliss. If Elliot’s hand wasn’t keeping you pinned down, you’d be sat with your arms thrown around his neck, pleading with him to let you cum, that you’d do absolutely anything. His hand abandons your soon-to-be-bruised flesh on your belly to keep you pinned down, hand pressed right to the center of your chest. He leans over slightly, bending you just that little bit more. 

Your leg is hooked around his very much still clothed shoulders. You’re trying to grind down— just begging him to let you cum with nothing but your eyes. But unfortunately for you, Elliot is unforgiving. His hands slam down against the table next to your head. He’s not giving you an inch, he’s keeping you exactly where he wants you— unmoved and compliant for him. A bead of sweat rolls down his face, dripping off the tip of his nose. He follows where it lands below him, splashing against your skin. And he catches the way your dress is pinned between you— your tits nearly falling out of the top. They were barely contained in the dress you had worn during the ceremony, you were Mac’s little sister after all; you’d been allowed to tag along as family. Elliot getting to use you as his own personal fleshlight after is just a fortunate perk. 

“No fuckin’ bra, I knew it.” It doesn’t take much effort on his part to have your tits spilling out. Just a barely there tug, he lifts himself up just a bit to watch them run over as he does. He gives a mean pinch to your nipple, before he’s grabbing a hefty handful to give it a good shake. Entranced as he watches the way your tits jiggle, the way you’re so fuckin’ soft under his hands. 

“Eyes up, sweetheart.” Your head tips forward from where it had been thrown back. You clench around him when your eyes meet— and he can tell it wasn’t on purpose. “You don’t get to cum. Maybe after this fuckin’ meeting that—“ he draws his hips back slowly, laying out the ground rules for the night ahead. “We’re going to be late getting to.” The sentence is punctuated by a hard thrust, burying himself right back up to the base of his cock. He’s close, so damn close, and he’d mad that despite the fact he’s had you in just about every position he can think of, you can still milk him dry in no time at all. 

You both are so wrapped up in one another, that you don’t hear Erik’s voice calling out for Elliot. Needing to check in before this shit really gets going, having to track his ass down which is very unlike him. No, Elliot is just cumming his brains out in Mac’s little sister’s guts, not catching his CO calling for him. He doesn’t hear the way Erik— who’s already been on a few tours— gasps at the sight before him. It’s sinful, the way Elliot’s got your ankles held (with one hand as he uses the other to zip up his trousers.) He can catch the way his cum leaks from between your well fucked thighs. 

It takes a lot to get him riled up. He knows he shouldn’t be seeing this. He knows he definitely shouldn’t be this hard at walking in on Elliot in this kind of fucked up situation. Involving you, Mac’s little sister, of all people. But here he is, blush creeping up his neck and sweat starting to drip down his back.

Oh, Erik's in for it now.

Thank you so much for reading! Feel free to leave a comment or reblog!

[pupyuj]

→ “special girl.” || naoi rei x reader fic.

— you always make sure that your girlfriend has the most perfect birthdays ever but this year, rei was going to be the one to make her day even more special…

word count: 3.0k

dynamic: dom!vers!naoi rei x sub!vers!reader.

content warnings: birthday sex yippee, sex in a public setting, exhibitionism, car sex, fingering, cunnilingus, mommy kink, praise kink, ‘kitty’ kink (if that is even a thing).

requested ? : nope.

a/n: a bit late in the day but happy birthday to my dearest reibear! this was kinda clumsily put together so apologies if it’s lacking compared to my other full fics but ehe i hope you guys enjoy this 🥺

rei loved special occasions for one reason: you!

even after three years of dating, you still managed to make each and every single one of your gifts so different. with that said, rei’s favorite day would be her birthday. one would think that it was normal for someone to have their very own special day as their birthday but rei’s birthday wasn’t special because it was her birthday—it was special because you make it so. every second of that day would be perfect because of you.

and this year, rei’s birthday wasn’t any different than the last.

“you really didn’t have to rent an entire restaurant just for us, (y/n)-ah. that must’ve been really expensive.” rei says as she snuggles closer to your arm. the cool, gentle breeze blows your hair back as the two of you walk along the marbled paths beside the river. it was a peaceful evening—there wasn’t a lot of people in the park (it was nearly 10 p.m. after all), there weren’t too many cars around so the area wasn’t loud with the sounds of exhausts and engines, and it felt as if it was only you and rei in the world.

and on her special day, it was all she wanted. just you. no gift you give her can ever compare to your existence.

“not exactly. the owner is one of my friends from college! i couldn’t pass up the opportunity. i hope you loved it.” you smiled at her. the path was dim with only warm, decades-old street lamps igniting the way, but your smile managed to shine through. or maybe that was just rei looking at you with rose-colored sunglasses and hearts in her eyes. or you could just be that pretty.

yeah. you really were just that pretty.

“i always think that you couldn’t possibly make me fall for you even more but… i’m always proven wrong.” rei momentarily stops her tracks and tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, making you blush. both at her words and how her fingertips brushed across your cheekbone.

“cornball,” you teased, earning a soft chuckle from your girlfriend. “i love you more everyday too, rei.” and it was the truth. whenever rei does anything, it warms your heart. you find that there is always a moment where you look at her and time slows down, giving you the opportunity to cherish just how much of a great girl you fell in love with. you knew that even the most expensive or heartfelt present wouldn’t show rei how much you truly loved her, you just hoped that your heart did.

(it did. and it was more than enough.)

she was only a few centimeters taller than you, but whenever you looked into her eyes with so much warmth, love, and devotion, rei always felt so small. but she was safe. and so she leaned in, eyes fluttering to a close just before your lips touched her own.

it was as sweet as the rest of the kisses you’ve had this day—soft, slow, and tastes like… raspberry? yes, rei made sure to wear your favorite lip balm on her because she knew how much you loved tasting it on her lips. perhaps a little too much. you wrapped a single arm around rei’s waist, pulling her in for a deeper kiss. she had her hands on your cheeks, savoring each and every second your lips moved in sync with hers.

before you knew it, you were feeling rei’s hands snake underneath your blouse, tugging on your bra from behind. the two of you just so happened to stop behind a large tree so this spectacle wasn’t really visible to anyone that might be in the park. and it was perfect considering rei had unbuttoned the three buttons on your blouse to attack your neck with kisses and bites. each time you whimpered, the more rei’s heart raced. neither of you have done anything like this before, it was both scary and exciting.

scary, because the two of you could get caught and that would be the most humiliating thing that would happen to either of you.

exciting, because rei has been gawking over the outfit you decided on for this day. the cute skirt, the blouse that a friend of yours tailored specifically for you, and all the jewelry rei bought for you in the past… it was the perfect outfit to ruin you in. rei had hoped she would tear off your clothes in your shared bedroom under the soft lighting of her favorite lampshade but the moonlight and the street lamp serve as a good enough alternative, she supposes.

“a-are you sure… this is the tim—ahh..!” rei found it adorable how you couldn’t even form proper sentences because of her. she nipped and sucked on your skin, making sure to leave hickies where she likes it most all while unclasping your bra from behind. eventually, your back was pressed up against the tree. you crane your neck just to give rei more space to leave her marks. and when she was done, she lifts your top up along with your bra, revealing your now bare breasts to her.

“i don’t think i tell you enough about how beautiful i find you.” rei licks her lips as you start grinding on the thigh she snuck in between your legs. it comforted her to know that you wanted this as much as she did at this time. rei briefly looks around, confirms that nobody had eyes on either of you, before leaning down to place wet kisses across your chest. her lips close around your nipple, making you clasp your hand over your mouth just to stop yourself from moaning out loud.

rei slides a hand underneath your skirt and feels up your soaked panties, gently rubbing circles around your sensitive clit and smiling at the way you’ve started to ride her thigh faster. poor thing, you were so desperate to be filled and used. but since this was rei’s special day, everything should happen on her terms. her eyes snap open when you let out a whine, staring at you as if she wanted to eat you whole while she swirled her tongue around your bud.

fuck, she was so pretty like this. you love her being sickeningly sweet like she always is but when she’s fucking you… rei was like a different person and you loved it.

your hands find their way in her hair and you pull her up for a kiss. at the same time, she pressed her thigh into your clit, making you whine and tug on her hair in a way that you know she loves. rei moans and gets lost in the taste of your lips, giving you the opportunity to unbutton her shirt and give your own eyes a treat. rei had been wearing the white lacy bra that you always loved to see on her. she knew the night was going to take this specific turn one way or the other, being the smartass that she was.

you were halfway through undoing her bra when she stopped you—gently taking your wrist and putting it back on her shoulder. “not so fast,” rei slips her hand inside your panties, pressing her middle finger down your clit. “you’ve already done so much for me today.” and then she was knuckles deep inside you, making you clutch her shirt and release the most beautiful moan rei’s ever heard.

rei fucks you slowly, ensuring that you feel every inch of her fingers inside your walls. and you didn’t complain—you couldn’t. rei watched silently as you freely whined, whimpered, and moaned in the air, feeling her own core buzzing just at the sight of your pretty face making all sorts of expressions for her. now she didn’t care that your volume increased by the minute. you were only loud because rei was fucking you so good, and there was nothing more that she loved than hearing how much she’s making you feel.

“so good… you always make me the happiest on this day, (y/n). and i don’t thank you enough,” rei presses her thumb down on your clit. you gasp sharply, throwing your head back and giving rei the full view of the work she did on your neck earlier. “tonight i get to return the favor.” rei closes her lips around your nipples again, sucking roughly and quickening her pace at the same time.

okay, now you had to really try and shut the fuck up.

forcing your eyes open, you looked down at rei again. her eyes were closed shut, and she was more focused in fucking you to oblivion than anything. the way she rubbed your clit at the same time she would plunge her fingers deep inside you didn’t help the situation that was building up in your stomach. you were afraid that you were going to end up screaming, but maybe that was what rei was working towards. “mmhng…!! m-mommy…! please…” you pulled rei impossibly closer to your chest, and she hums, quickly understanding what your pleading meant and fucked you faster. just how you liked it.

fuck, did that shuffling from behind the tree came from the leaves blowing with the wind or is it people? ah, who gives a fuck at this point… actually, you did. you threw a quick glance to the side and saw nothing but grass and empty benches. the two of you were completely alone. perfect.

briefly, you spotted rei slipping her one free hand underneath her own skirt, rubbing her cunt through your soaked panties and goodness, the things it did to you. ��mommy—ahh..!—let me… let me, please. i need to taste y-you, please… i need you…” gosh, you were pathetic. you were practically riding on her fingers just to get yourself off faster. drooling like a rabid dog at the thought of getting to eat your girlfriend out at a place like this.

“behave, and maybe i’ll consider it.” rei says sternly, clearly put off with how you just disregarded what she said earlier. she was going to reward you for all the things you’ve done for her today. you should be grateful! and you really were. you proved that by nodding, shutting the fuck up, and letting rei do as she pleases.

“good kitty.” jesus christ.

“aww,” rei cooed, a genuine smile making its way onto her face when she saw how flustered you’ve gotten. whimpering and whining still but refusing to make eye contact. “don’t be shy, kitten.” you didn’t even have time to react to your favorite pet name before rei starts ramming her fingers inside you in a much more ruthless pace. you’ve already coated her fingers with so much of your slick, now she needs your cum.

“oh..! oh, s-shit…!” you hid your face in the crook of rei’s neck, shaking your head as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. it all felt too good. now rei was giving your neck soft kisses, groaning softly as you dug your nails on her skin.

“fuck..! fuck, momm—” rei covers your mouth when she hears a couple of voices from behind the tree. you had to admit… that scary look in her eyes, silently telling you to not make a single sound, and the tight grip she had around your mouth only turned you on mouth. her hand was a bit damp from how she played with herself earlier and you only saw this as an opportunity to open your mouth as best as you could and start licking rei’s own wetness off her fingers.

rei was a bit taken aback by your sudden boldness, but she was really into it—allowing you to suck at her thumb. “mhm.. you’d really do anything for mommy, huh, kitty?” rei asked. and of course you reply with a nod. correct answer, now rei has you clenching your thighs around her wrist because she was that close to making you cum. rei relishes at the sight of your chest heaving up and down faster and faster the closer you get to your climax, how you start holding on to her a bit tighter, and of course… how much you were grinding on her hand just to feel her palm press against your clit.

rei curls her fingers inside you at the same time her palm brushes against your sensitive bud, making that knot inside your stomach finally break. you came with a squeak, thighs shaking and eyes teary. rei bites her lips as she watches you, wanting nothing more than that obedient little mouth of yours on her throbbing pussy. you were slow to come down from your high, given that it had been a good few days since you’ve last had sex with rei due to your busy schedules and the fact that she just fucked you that good, but rei was patient!

she waited until you were breathing properly to slowly pull out, giggling at how you’ve drenched her hand with your cum. “s-sorry. i…” you blushed. even you didn’t expect to cum that much!

“it’s okay, baby. i got it.” rei says. you really, really tried to look unaffected when she started sucking on her fingers to clean up your mess, but she looked too hot. and rei absolutely knew what this did to you! looking directly at you, while she licked the remains of your cum off her fingers, smirking when she feels you clench on her thighs.

“come on now. if i remember correctly, you wanted to do something for me.” rei doesn’t let either of you get straightened out properly, dragging you towards your car in the parking lot with your tits out for the entire world to see. fortunately enough, the world was asleep.

soon enough, rei was settled in your backseat. her back pressed against the other door while she pulls your face towards her now bare cunt with her legs that she’d put on top of your shoulders. god, she was drenched. you had no idea that fucking you made her like this. if you’d known that this happened every time she fucked you, your nights together would’ve been much, much longer.

“be a good kitten, now. make mommy pro—ohh…” rei grabs a fistful of your hair when you cut her off with a single swipe of your tongue up her lips. you couldn’t help it. this was the one time she was going to let you get away with shit like that since she was so in love with that clouded look in your eyes. rei wasn’t even kidding when she says that you look like an animal right now.

you started working your mouth on her cunt, holding her thighs and keeping them apart. you moaned at how good rei tasted—even after having done this about a hundred times before, you still act as if it’s the first and only time you’re going to eat her out. you flicked her clit with your tongue, earning a moan so satisfying to your ears that you had to close your legs just to try and ignore that feeling in your core once again.

“good..! g-good girl… oh, please..!” each time you close your lips around her clit, rei gasps. she’d buck her hips upward just to have some more of you. you quite liked the feeling of her tugging on your hair and digging her nails in your scalp… as much as it hurt and made you hiss occasionally, the slight pain only turned you on. it meant that you were doing very well for your mommy, after all! what’s not to like?

rei never knew how you could keep your eyes completely open every time you ate her out. sometimes it made her feel self-conscious because of all the faces she could be making but you were just so pretty peering up at her with those shining eyes of yours, practically begging for praise or at the very least, head pats.

“you’re d-doing so well, baby… mhmn..! making m-me feel so good like this.. ah! beats every present you’ve ever gotten me… now, more…” rei closes her thighs around your head, locking you in place. you were in no position to refuse—not like you wanted to anyway. you dipped your tongue inside rei’s cunt and she let out a loud moan that turned you on enough to keep going, holding onto her thighs so tightly that you might actually leave nail marks on her skin.

“i’m cumming, love…! c-cumming..! oh my god…” it takes another suck at her clit for her to start tapping out, but rei was already cumming all over your face by then. head thrown all the way back as she made a mess on you, her grip on your hair slowly loosening up as her breathing slowed. you lapped her up like the diligent pet that you were, ensuring that you wouldn’t waste a single drop of her cum.

once you were finished, you rose up. you looked more of a mess than rei was what with your hair sticking to your face because of both sweat and rei’s cum. rei laughs at your funny state and reaches out, fixing your hair and wiping your mouth with tissues. she looks at you with pure adoration as you helped her clean up, wiping her thighs clean and gently applying ointment on the marks you’ve left her.

(yes you had emergency ointments in the car for these kinds of situations! totally normal.)

“thank you, (y/n). for everything.” rei takes your face in her hands, squishing your cheeks lightly before kissing your nose. oh, she has no idea how thankful you were of her just existing. today may be her birthday, but it felt like yours too. after all, what’s a greater gift than having someone so amazing as naoi rei as your sweet lover?

“i love you a lot, rei.” you said with that blinding smile of yours rei always adored.

“i love you more, pretty,” rei kisses your nose again. she feels like she’ll be doing that a lot tonight, or forever, rather. “and when we get home, i’ll show you just how much.”

seriously, which one of you was having the birthday again?