#* WRITING.

[persicipen-archive]

𑑛 “CUM INSIDE” ﾉ XIANZHOU MEN. HONKAI STAR RAIL

fem reader ﾉ words 2.0k ᯽ prone bone. breeding kink, cumming inside, doing it raw. rough fucking. hickeys, sloppy kisses, biting. overall messy. just quick thirsts with no other substance than cum :3 ᯽ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

BLADE ���

Never fulfilled, never satiated — the hunger ravaging his body does not cease, spreading further with each moment spent buried within your heat. As if his cock was meant to stir that flame, to urge him to move faster, rougher, to test the limits of your sweet loyalty to his destroyed mind.

Blade loves you. Truly. And you know it, telling it to yourself constantly while he mounts you from behind, stretching your already battered pussy to adjust to his shape. And oh, how you moan so wantonly, lashes fluttering as he pins you down and plunges into your heat.

He will fill you with his seed until it spills out of your opening and dribbles down your thighs, soaking the bedsheets with the proof of your union.

With diligence, he works towards the goal, to claim you as his own, to ensure that you belong to him and he will sacrifice anything to keep you safe. Even from himself. It’s hard for him to bring a leash on his fury. Your willing and beautiful body beneath him acts as an anchor for his mind to find comfort in. And so does the whine you let out every time he kisses your skin.

As if to prove his loyalty, his calloused hand grips your cheeks, lips leaving a wet kiss along the side of your face before pushing it back into the mattress. Blade buries his head in the crook of your neck, showering it with hickeys and bites that bloom from light red to dark purple.

You let him have you as he pleases, feverish and barely responsive from the ecstasy storming through your loins.

Your pussy hugs his length so snugly, the way it clenches around his cock while he rams into you is enough to have him buckle and slam even harder. Without touching your clit, the powerful thrusts move you back and forth, indirectly flicking your bundle of nerves. And there’s no mercy left for you. Blade intends to fuck you to completion again and again, until you are too exhausted to go on.

However, by the looks of it, neither of you will last long.

DAN HENG ﾉ

The usual practice would be to let himself be reincarnated… yet a vision of creating a new life with you, a resemblance of shared traits and making love relentlessly — it makes him sick.

Panting and with a reddened face, because he will do anything to breed your sweet cunt, to bring himself to the very depths of your body when you spread your legs willingly to let him between them. In that, he’s obedient. Completely pliant, accepting that you hold this power over him despite being pushed down by his arms.

Beneath him, but he cannot say no to you.

In those moments, he feels at home — a holy ground for the spirit to thrive within the circle of your thighs.

The body that welcomes him is soft, all flesh and sweet, desperate motion of your hips urging him to let himself loose, to fuck you into the bed until he’s out of breath. Till his lungs burn and he’s barely able to comprehend the pleasure exploding under his eyelids with each rock of his cock into you. It takes no effort at all. Once you let him in, there’s no way to stop him from latching onto your silhouette.

To bury himself in the dirtiness of your cries, mewls and sweetly coaxing encouragements for him, fingers intertwining near the side of your head as he lays claim to your womb. In your greed, you match his thrusts, attempting to bring yourself closer to release.

To feel him shudder above you, eyes dazed with reverence and stars. You wish you had the strength to look back at his face, but the pattern on the bedsheets is all you can settle for right now.

You clench around his cock as you cum, body melting into the mattress with your head stuffed full of cotton. His lovemaking always leaves you like this — a boneless heap of muscles unable to resist the sweep of his hips any longer.

JIAOQIU ﾉ

You love hearing him when he hangs just inches above your arched back, his sultry moans and gasps almost syrupy against your nape. A fitting description because, as if lured by the sweetness, Jiaoqiu drags his tongue along your skin, tracing the ridges of your spine. The wetness of his saliva mingles with the heat radiating from your flushed shoulders, burning like fire.

His length slides in and out of your pussy with ease, aided by the slick coating it, trickling down your thighs. You’re always so wet for him, all the time, begging him to take you, fill you up until you can’t remember anything but the bliss of his touch. And he never disappoints, offering himself up to you like a god-sent gift.

Every thrust is precise and purposeful, just enough to hit that spot deep inside you that makes you go crazy. If only you were able to escape his embrace, to redirect the stirring uproar in your lower belly, but you can’t. You’re his captive, caught in his web of adoration and affection.

He twitches within your walls as he ruts into you like a man possessed, like an animal.

Something inside of him awakens, his predatory instincts taking over as he mewls into your ear and drags his cock faster, fucking like in heat to breed you with his pups. Balls swelled with thick cum, that’s for a reason, certainly, for one purpose alone — pour his seed deep into your aching cunt and watch it gush out. He yearns to feel your fingers scramble for purchase in the silk sheets, nails dragging through the fabric as your greedy hole sucks him back in.

You weep against the sweat-dampened pillowcase for more more more, pretending to be fine with his weight atop your back. Yet, even though the dizziness is enveloping your whole body, there’s still this void gnawing away at you. It leaves you confused and longing for the release only Jiaoqiu can give you.

JING YUAN ﾉ

Dragging his own hips back and forth, he pistons down with all his weight on your sore body, tingling from the constant plap plap plap coming from the colliding sweaty bodies.

But you love it — oh, how you love it.

The skin breaking contact with squelch, a delicate slide as he angles himself just to force his cock further, as far as he can go to have his tip reach the one sweet spot that hides deep within. To ensure that not a single drop of his cum drips outside of your womb… but that will happen in time, soon, but not yet.

Not yet.

For Jing Yuan it’s obvious that each and every of your encounters must end with his seed filling your cunt. Hoping that one day, if he may be so bold to think, it will settle as intended and put his baby in your belly.

Just imagining it makes him shudder, a ragged chuckle ringing above your ears, and his wide arms tightening around your trembling frame, and pushing into the messed up sheets and blankets. You can’t have any space left to escape from his punishing thrusts, you must take it all, all of his length inside until his pelvis slaps against your ass.

Even if you tell him, you can feel him in your stomach, he won’t stop, not until you are spasming beneath him with tears streaming down your face and your lips moaning out his name like a song of surrender.

And then, finally, will jung yuan spill every last drop of his essence deep within you, painting your inner walls white and hot with the promise of his seed taking root. And he will fuck you until you feel nothing but that pressure mounting within you and take you over the edge to achieve finality.

LUOCHA ﾉ

With longing gasps and uneven tone of his praises, Luocha huffs on your shoulder blades, his lips peppering kisses along the pointy bone, marking a way of goosebumps along your skin.

He is far too focused on your body to think about anything else, only to move his hips and bury his cock deep inside your tightness. Every push into your warmth is met with a squeeze that matches his own movements, leaving him breathless and desperate for more. His waist rolls like a storm on the sea, meeting you halfway to push and pull in an endless rhythm that seems to bring the delirious pleasure out of the ends of your nerves.

It’s almost impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins, your bodies intertwined and melding together as you seek out that sweet, sweet release. The golden waterfall of his hair sways in time with the set pace of his thrusts, long and slow, the shining locks tickling your naked back like feathers.

The way his skin glides against yours is almost intoxicating, like a sweet, sticky nectar. All of his weight keeps you flat against the bed, rutting from an angle that has him hitting just the right spot inside you. Your thighs are slick with his precum, as well as the cream of your arousal, glistening in the dim light every time he lifts himself from your ass. That sloppy sound of wet skin smacking together merges with his needy voice gasping out your name, praising your obedience.

His lips are barely brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks to you, his hot breath fanning against the shell. He whispers softly, telling you how well you take him, how good it feels to be inside you, a solace he finds only within your heat from the weariness of his travels.

The glide of his sweaty, trembling hand keeping a tight grip on your waist reaches over your spine to encourage you to do better.

And you will. For him — anything, always.

MOZE ﾉ

For a secretive man like him, it’s unusual to see Moze so open, so loud about his desires. Whimpering and stuttering over dirty praises, he pours into your ear as he laboriously works his hips in the rhythm of his breaths.

Harder, deeper, until you’re squished snugly between his muscular body and the softness of the mattress, fitting him like a glove. Like another part of his tight outfit — now discarded by the bed for a promise of claiming your pussy like a trophy.

A sharp gasp wrenches itself from your lungs as he twists his wrist in time with his cock thrusting into you. And with every pull out, his fingers find themselves a bit higher, curling around your nape to keep you steady on the pillow.

The tips of his nails leave crescent shapes on your flesh, branding you like a dog marks his territory.

He doesn’t even realise it, his mind too occupied with that erotic symphony of pleasure only your body evokes in him with every needy roll to match his pace — he’s proud that you’re trying, at least, no match for the assassin’s stamina and speed.

Your swollen walls tremble and clench around his length, spasming from the sensitivity, sucking him in each time he withdraws. The last push comes harder than the rest, rattling the bed and making you cry out into the silk of the sheets. You choke on your own drool, the fire ignited within you and running through your veins, embers pulsing in the deepest pit of your stomach. He pounds into you until you can’t think of anything else but his cock, his name — a shadow claiming your womb with the seed, the only thing he leaves behind.

A splatter of tears dribbles from the corner of your eyes as you surrender to his brutal rhythm, shaking your head and pleading him to impregnate you, to spill inside of you, to breed you full. The loud squelch of his thrusts soon drowns out under the raspy syllables of his voice, promising to fulfil your wish.

[persicipen]

PHAINON ﾉ cock hcs. not sfw hcs ✘ kindly remember that your fictional faves look and act exactly as you imagine them yourself :3 those are my own (current) hcs and i can very much agree with any other vision! ✘ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Perfect, divine, flawless, ideal— whatever synonym you can find that describes him just right. Is he even aware that even his cock is as beautiful and generous as is his heart? Well, perhaps not entirely as the tip flushes the same intense shade of pink as his cheeks despite the eagerness. It throbs and pulses excitedly, oozing little beads of pearlescent precum that shimmer akin to glittery gold that runs through his veins. Speaking of veins, they glimmer gently under the sensitive skin (yes, it’s very sensitive, to the point that even an exhale near his length makes him shudder).

If you put him in your mouth or swallow, there will remain a lingering aftertaste — not intense, not gentle either, but something that will make you always think of him again as if you can’t quite let go of him even after parting.

What gets him to cum pretty much immediately is if you suckle only on his tip. He’s too putty in your care, all the flirty comments stuck in his throat because it makes him feel pampered, spoiled, the way you treat him like something fragile despite him being so courageous and strong. So, please, be gentle with him, slow and sweet, and he will melt under your touch.

Which is quite contrary to how he acts if given control. Excited and full of energy, getting impatient and needy to fuck into you faster and faster with a breathy chuckle plastered on his lips. His motivation is fueled further if he manages to fluster you with praises and ardent smiles. Above all, he wants to be your saviour, your hero, the one who welcomes you with open arms and protects you when you lower all your defences in front of him.

[ghostlychaosfoil]

um um fanart for @dettiqueen ‘s one shot “But he was in love…”

long awaited

[resourcesofcolor]

[makemeactup]

Ringo Starr x Reader - Stolen Glances

Summary: Ringo has feelings for his long time friend, but cant bring himself to do more than steal glances.

This is actually something I wrote for my oc but thought everyone would enjoy it. So — here ya go!

---

It wasn't that Ringo was scared to say anything to you. No, he wasn't the least bit worried about the outcome. You were adults now, it'd be fine. But, perhaps, he was just being cautious about the situation. Weighing up the possibilities and the comfort of the now. Such as:

Everytime you would playfully shove him, or playfully punch his shoulder, or playfully try to fight or wrestle, or just sit next him or drape your legs over his lap or put your head on his shoulder, Ringo held a humongous grin. His cheeks would tint a soft red. His blue eyes took you in as quickly as they could without drawing any attention.

Each time, he played along or dismissed you with a joke. Sometimes he would wrestle or take an exaggerated boxing stance, or he'd put his hand around your legs to make sure that you could relax and not worry about them sliding off. You'd smile at him then, beaming and radiant. And it'd be just for him — until one of the other boys, usually John, demanded your attention.

You were like that with everyone for the most part, Ringo had reasoned. You'd playfully shove George, but you wouldn't try to fight him. You'd use Paul as a pillow, but you wouldn't try to wrestle with him. You'd offer both men your smile, the one they all knew so well. But John, to Ringo's eyes, was too close to how you treated him.

John did get the playful fights and attempts to wrestle, and sometimes you'd get put into a headlock or he'd have his arm wrenched behind his back. John did get sat next to, and he got your head on his shoulder, or legs over his lap. But worst of all, he got the smile. The others got the smile, sure, but that wasn't the same. It was a specific smile.

But who was Ringo against John? Clint Eastwood versus Larry Fine?

Oh well, Ringo would shrug to himself at the thought. You were all long time friends, nothing more. His feelings had to pass, right? The denial certainly wouldn't, but that was neither here nor there.

Sat behind his drumkit, drumsticks held loosely in hand, he watched his friends interact. He watched you as you laughed at something George had said, waving him away. He admired your side profile, your shiny hair. Your shirt was nice today.

Sporadically, his eyes flickered to whoever was talking, an attempt to cover his tracks. He'd crack a smile and laugh at a joke or story, but he wasn't actually listening. Not as he gently hit the cymbals absentmindedly, and not as he looked at you again.

"—right, Ringo?" Came the sudden voice of Paul, the use of his name knocking him back into the room.

It was only then, under the scrutinising stares of his friends, did the drummer realise that his face gave away his previously absent mind. His eyes, dark with the apparent lack of sleep lately, grew briefly wide as he perked up and looked at Paul.

"What'd you say, Paul?"

"You alright? You look spaced out."

"Oh," Ringo blinked. "Yeah, I'm fine. And you?"

"You're gonna get bug-eyed if y' keep starin'," John hummed, smirk wide. He had obviously seen something the others hadn't.

"In me own world," Ringo raised an arm and moved his drumstick in a circular motion beside his temple for emphasis.

"Can I join your world?" You asked innocently, brows arching, as if you'd have to plead for him to say yes.

"'course ya can!" He beamed softly. "None'a these jokers can, though."

"What have I done?" George asked, sounding offended to be included with John and Paul.

"Dunno, let me get back t' you," Ringo offered, earning a small laugh and smile from his friends.

His eyes met yours, and he offered a small shrug. When you didn't immediately turn around, he swore he felt his neck grow warmer and the grip on his drumsticks grow ten times tighter. His lips grew into a lopsided grin, nose turning a soft shade of red.

When you did eventually turn back around, he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Swallowing thickly and lightly hitting his drumsticks together, he feigned interest in whatever joke or story was being told. All the while, as subtly as he could in the background, he kept stealing loving glances at you.

[mihii-i]

guys what the actual hell?

Why did I lose so many followers? If it’s because of my recent fic I will delete it and remove it from my master lists but can I have an explanation as to why I lost over 150 followers in under a few hours?

I’m not blaming anyone ily all but im just curious as to WHY I lost followers over one single fic which didn’t even contain anything problematic in it, and there’s plenty of other fics for you all to read so why focus on ONE just because it’s from a game that you don’t like?

Again I’m sorry if this came off as harsh I’m just upset and not in my right mind rn because this feels ridiculous

[irladagio]

in light of my recent posts and reblogs, i really want to share my recreation of finch AND ink how it is possible that i made them to be able to be stand alone characters. finch and inks backstories. how they are interesting and how ink can be autistic without it being a terrible and rude stereotype. :) also with them being able to keep much of their og personality if you wanna even call it that.. finch, though i do ship him with hacker, does not need him to be interesting or even involved… I’m going to start with Finch (bc i love him just read my blog page..) his backstory. It’s a lot heavier than what it was made to be. As someone who is familiar with racism and has read many books on his time…I can confirm it was not “yup war and that’s it :)” no. it’s dark and traumatic and I wanna make sure I write it in that light. War/Racism/Transphobia isn’t light or easy to deal with.. and that definitely would explain his “i can’t open up because i’ll get hurt” mentality. I have so much so many extra characters that balance out the excessive amount of men in ds (i understand why tho) they’ll be his friends, subordinates, enemies? World building!!!! I headcanon that he has BDP and I am in no way a mental illness expert and I’ve actually done research like someone who wants to write a character with a condition.. but i want to be as accurate as possible, so i’ll step away from focusing on that for now. But i would basically explain how he manages it, his day to day and stuff like that. This Man Love To Dance And Write and IDC what you say people. Yeah also he’s also texan. deep south, has a slight country accent. Odessa, Texas. No changing my mind on that one either. Katja, I think i wrote a post on her um yeah more on her later. I know im mostly focusing on Finch and yeah i tend to do that i’m sorry. But what im saying is!!! I rewrote him, and I’d love to share it! (ALSO IF YOURE INTERESTED PLS MESSAGE ME, KEEPING THIS TO MYSELF IS PAINFUL AND ITS ALL I THINK ABOUT ACTUALLY..PLSSS)

obviously im not sharing the entire thing rn but whenever i have time i’ll work on the post. hopefully..🤞🏽

[persicipen-archive]

𑑛 “PROMISE TO TAKE IT” ﾉ BLADE, DAN HENG, JING YUAN, LUOCHA. HONKAI STAR RAIL

fem reader ﾉ words 2.1k ᯽ rough scenarios, separately. blade — prone bone. doing it raw. creampie ﾉ dan heng is in his dragon form, but not entirely. missionary. implied mating season lol ﾉ jing yuan — size kink. riding him but he’s still in control and a menace ﾉ luocha — “little thing” petname, oddly comforting situationship or one night stand ﾉ rewritten ᯽ ADULT CONTENT ﾉ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ᯽

BLADE ﾉ

While the bedroom itself remains an oasis of solace and a delicate space where you can be yourself, never judged by his ruby eyes despite his low huffs and puffs at any of your antics, it is now also a jail for your sobs. Cries disappearing in the supple cotton of the pillow as Blade pounds into you, rough hands gripping your wrists like a rope. Oh no, he will not allow you to push his hips away.

Not after you begged for this just moments ago with that adorable whine of yours.

The dripping slickness saving you from the punishment that is him rutting into you with abandon. His cock stretches your pussy wide, filling you to the brim with every thrust, and you arch your back against him, letting him impale you over and over again on his heavy girth.

He growls, his fingers digging into your soft sides, leaving reddened imprints, as he pulls you towards him. He slams into you roughly, his balls slapping against your overly sensitive clit as he fucks you without mercy.

You squirm in his grasp, trying to break free, but no, his grip on you is firm. He doesn’t want you to move. You’re here just to take care of his needs.

The man above you breathes out, his long black hair falling over his arms and tickling your shoulders. Using your body as he pleases, relentlessly pushing until only his base can’t settle into your cunt. You whimper, your legs shaking as you feel his tip brush against your deepest spot, and he chuckles. He likes how you clench around him, unsure if you want him to leave you or to welcome him deeper — this is how he knows you’re getting close.

And so, Blade leans forward, his breath burning your neck, and bites on your irritated skin. You cry out, your soppy walls throbbing to lure him into your heat, and he grunts as he hears your juices plapping down his thighs. The way you cream all over his cock — awfully erotic — your wetness coating his length, and he picks up his pace, pounding into you with renewed vigour. He wants to cum inside you. To fill you up.

A high-pitched squeal escapes your lips, your silhouette shivering with uncontrollable intensity. The overwhelming sensation becomes too much to bear, and you find yourself unable to endure it any longer; still played with like a pretty doll, pressed to the mattress with all of his weight. Blade groans, his girth pulsing, and he snugs himself deep into you, cumming in thick, hot spurts, your pussy milking him until the very last drop.

You mewl at his treatment, your wrists aching from his bruising grip, and he smirks, his red eyes gleaming. The way you look right now, his favourite image of contained desires. His dear beloved.

He will make it up to you later with sweet kisses and gentle caresses, but for now, he enjoys the sight of his cum oozing out of your well-fucked cunt, dripping onto the bedsheets.

DAN HENG ﾉ

This position isn’t something new, however, and even though the fact is pleasant to think about, you do wonder what caused him to get so bold. Maybe at the sight of you admiring his partially changed form, eyes drinking in the beautiful shimmer of his scales, he understood that you find him so attractive — as always, but now also intrigued by other parts of him that might be different.

His hand traces the lines of your ribs as you inhale at the feeling of him entering deeper — the unfamiliar shape of his cock nesting comfortably against your soft insides — and then he puts some weight on top of you, pressing you further into the pillows, his lips barely touching your own, unsure if he already wants to kiss you.

“Tell me if it hurts you.”

“It’s alright, really. You can… you know, continue…”

“Now I’m more concerned that you seem to like it more than when we’re doing it… gentler.” Surprised at his own talkativeness, there’s a red splash of colour on his cheeks as he bites his lips at the end of the sentence and buries his face in the crook of your neck. You giggle at his comment, but it turns into a needy moan as he moves his hips to rest snugly between your legs.

With your tongue, you slide across his upper lip, capturing it softly and biting on its tenderness, tasting a faint trace of his salty sweat and humming as he shivers, your fingers tangled in his hair, brushing through the ebony black locks, before whispering, “I know you’re holding back. No need to, I trust you.”

“Mmh,” Dan Heng mutters with a shaky breath as his shaft hardens and thickens at your reactions. Your reassuring words have such an impact on him; they're teasing him with this pleading tone of yours, allowing him to mate with you during the times when he gets so incredibly hot in your presence, unable to keep his hands off of you.

His thrusts start slow and measured; however, with each minute passing, he finds himself succumbing more and more to the instinct calling upon him; it is so much different now that you’re within his reach — how you react, how you look at him — everything makes him lose his cool. Soon his lips find your nipple again, teeth grazing sensitive skin until you hiss, yet push yourself towards him, arching your back. The sting of his bite stimulates you to the point where your inner walls spasm, clamping down on him tightly as you almost cry out.

Even the shallowest strokes produce audible squelching noises whenever he loses his rhythm. He’s just as intoxicated by the new sensation. The little details that change in his build now make you two melt in each other’s arms; his cock glides with fervour and carelessness against the spots that usually required precision.

The pleasure is overwhelming, even a bit eerie how accurate at bringing the sweetest of your sobs out. His instincts still force him to grip at your shoulders — you let him do this — to slam harder inside of your pussy. And you can barely take it, but he quickly looks at the side on the clock, and it’s been barely minutes since he started…

JING YUAN ﾉ

He embraces you tightly, wide arms with ease, groping your entire body as you shudder, and let him bring you closer, your back pressed to his soft yet firm chest — allowing his cock to reach deeper, spearing your entrance until your essence seeps out in abundance between your bodies.

Usually, you would expect Jing Yuan to prefer being face to face with you, but also knowing what a menace he can be, there must’ve been something more on his mind. Which catches you by surprise when you notice his fingers circle your clit from the front, sort of caging you between one pleasure and another as you helplessly try to wriggle out of his iron grip.

At that, what you hear is a chuckle — deep like the ocean, sweet like honey, dripping with both love and lust, and making you all fuzzy from within. The waves of immense enjoyment lap at your limbs from all sides, and you gasp out when his palm rubs you so skillfully, with care and adoration.

“No matter which part of you I touch… It’s a pleasure to watch you shake in my arms.” He purrs with a small smile, nibbling at your earlobe and inhaling the sweet scent of your hair. You wish to nod but can't, in fear that it’ll only spur him further on to bounce you on his cock and enjoy how you struggle with each thrust. “Does my beloved bird feel good?”

Before you can answer — which you would love to, gathering the strength and courage to wail and sob into his lips as your head falls back on his shoulder — his palm moves up from your bundle of nerves to your tummy, pressing on the soft flesh there. Intently. He knows exactly what to do to get a specific reaction out of you, to make himself moan as you clench abruptly on his girth despite your walls sobbing at the stretch. You feel so full in that moment, choking on your breath at the additional pressure, too occupied with his cock filling your body so wholly.

As he starts to fuck you relentlessly — you cry out, the pitch of your voice higher and higher as you slowly become incapable of maintaining any volume at all — the tiniest sounds, broken huffs of air leaving your mouth; your eyes are glassy with tears, and all you want to do is bury yourself in the pillows and blankets, somehow escape from this prison of bliss. But he holds you close, one hand fondling your breast and the other playing around your lower abdomen, always there where you don’t want him at the moment, just to tease and make you more and more desperate.

A little flick of his thumb against your pearl, a press on your belly, maybe even fingers parting your folds as he drags his fat tip in and out at the perfect angle. It’s enough to throw you over the edge again.

As if your body belonged to him — and he, being the ever caring lover, already knows everything about you, that you enjoy it too much when he manhandles you like this.

LUOCHA ﾉ

The immense pleasure causes your mouth to whine and moan out his name. “Luocha, Luocha…” Is all that can be heard in the room besides muffled gasps and melted noises of naked bodies colliding with each other.

Certainly unpredictable was meeting someone who’s but a travelling merchant, skilled enough to render you putty beyond measure with just a verse of his saccharine voice and touches. You don’t believe him anymore. Though you cannot find an answer to it at the moment whilst your brain just refuses to think of anything else except how well you’re currently getting fucked by that gentleman.

The beauty above you lowers his face close to your own, his treacly lips catching your own with a delicate bite, trailing down your jawline and neck with slow kisses. Lukewarm and wet, like the summer mizzle. Just merely too fast for you to appreciate his features before the golden curtain of his bangs falls across his cheekbones.

“Are you doing well, little thing?” He asks quietly into your collarbone, immediately switching your focus from his words to his cock. With a tender push, he stays still for a moment, pulsing flesh pressing constantly on all your sensitive spots.

“Too well…” you utter with a weak, genuine smile.

He smiles back. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Luocha continues thrusting in and out at a suave pace, pounding into you with a special sense of skill and gentleness. Hauling into your cunt with each drag of his lean hips, his pace is unbothered, almost lenient with the offputting care. As if this meeting is sensible somehow, way above than what it truly is — a transient exchange of lecherousness, nothing more.

With his hands clamped around your waist, lifting you up slightly up from the bed, his swollen length reaches far inside of your aching core at that perfect angle, the tip gliding repeatedly against the sweetest patch of your walls. Drizzles of pre mingle with your essence and souse your puffy petals whenever he retreats from the confines of your insides, a proof of enjoyment that none of you is able to say out loud.

To keep him close — merge into the comfort of feeling someone’s warmth — you wrap yourself around his willowy silhouette, a ribbon made of entangled limbs.

“I wish we could meet again before we part ways.”

“You’re still here with me.” He hums into your ear, once again leaning in to smooch the side of your head, tickling your sweat-sodden hairline. “You should focus on that for now.”

All the overstimulation is taking your breath away, specs of drool sprinkled in the corner of your lips. His palm pets you softly between your legs, extracting another weep from your throat and a wobble of your tense thighs. The sudden impact of his digits rubbing on your clit draws you nearer to your orgasm; and he wishes to see it soon, so he concentrates on your reactions, tongue slightly peeking out from behind his teeth in concentration.

Your whimpers and cries — pure eroticism that makes him consider if it’s even worth to waste the softness of your fevered skin for a meaningless exchange. If one night can turn so satisfying, a pity it would be to say goodbye instead of promising another and another meeting after that. Perhaps…

AUTHOR’S NOTE — most of those are old thirsts that i put into one post with slightly edited past typos. but the hilarious thing is that luocha’s part had to be almost entirely rewritten today — and maybe it’s not visible to others, but i giggled comparing my writing. it’s like a rollercoaster from my perspective hehe

[mercyovalles]

open starter: no cap.

location: vibrations / can be event or non-event.

It doesn't take much for Mercy to accept a shift during the event because, well, it's not like she has anything worth rejecting for. Besides, she hardly minds it. Not only does it give her a way to preoccupy her time, but also presents her with an easier opportunity to get to know at least some of the residents that reside in this small town. Her main agenda now that she's officially settled at her apartment.

As settled as someone like Mercy could be.

Now that the current bar rush had officially come to an end, Mercy could feel her shoulders relax a little and a breath of relief slip out of her—eyes falling onto one of the remaining patrons that was still sitting by the bar.

“How much of my tip money is it gonna take to convince you to get on the dance floor?” the bartender teases, corners of her lips rising up into her usual sweet smile,  “I promise you'll enjoy yourself so much more fun out there than sittin' here watchin' me run 'round like my head is missin'.” 

[ripk0l]

If you get married, would you take your partners last name ?

question kol on relationship.

" i would. in a heartbeat, i would. i would not love for either my wife or husband to wear à name that can be sometimes heavy to bear. though, if they were a mikaelson, they would be feared. they would have anything. fear does that to people when they saw a mikaelson enters a room. "

[resourcesofcolor]

[suscaping]

MODEL BY WALLOWS

* lyrics from the album that could be utilized for writing + plotting inspiration. listed in no particular assortment!

› would you give in or would you relent who's been trying to get in your bed? › i'd rather tell you a lie before predicting what i don't know could lead into false hope. › 'cause i know you can see we're more than a secret, you know i can be just what you want. › let's make up the best years you and i have ever had. › and i know you can see we'll have people talking, you know we can be just what they want. › are you running away from something? are you worried you're feeling nothing? › did you cross your fingers when you said forever? › does it linger when days are still young? › am i just a name you flip through in your story of people you've made to love you? › you could've given me a warning if you knew that all your walls would cave in. › and i'll come by when you don't mind, but not if it'll only waste your time. › there's a lot of things that i could tell you, but some things are left better if you never knew. › when my back’s against the wall, everything else gets stalled. › don't apologize for crying, i will always hold you space. › two more blank eyes lookin' through me, thinkin' of a place from where you maybe knew me. › if the mood's right, we'll talk all night. it might be a road to nowhere, but it's alright. › old wounds seem to open up with you. › you're what i've been chasing, show me where my days went. › can't think of the last time that i truly smiled 'til you looked up at me, could you stay a while? › i'm not in your head, can you help me understand? › do i need someone? i think about it all the time. › i'm just craving a connection, can you tell that i'm nervous just by my complexion? › i've fallen off the track, and it's harder to look back at you. › i knew the feeling would be forming after i took a look into your eyes. › just wake me up when it's over, my headache shows when it's sober. › i'll keep running until i crash into something. › is my life all wasted nights? this isn't what i had in mind. › i don't want to be forgotten, but i've been avoiding being found. › i'm hesitant to tell you something doesn't feel right. i'm nearing a collapse, but i swear that i'm intact. › maybe what i owe myself is an open heart to someone i wanna keep around.

[rzmusings]

if all my tears could be exchanged for something, i'd buy one last dance with you. i'd hire the peaceful night to make an appearance, breaking into my savings for that magic that once lay in the way you looked at me.

you would touch me the same way you did that night, gliding across my skin like it were made of petals. you would smile my favourite smile, small eyes beaming like crescent moons, and you'd whisper your love for me with the unwavering certainty you once had.

— and i would try to believe you again.

[lovelesslittleloser]

HOW DO I BE SUBTLE BUT BLATANT ABOUT THE FACT THAT THESE TWO WILL GET TOGETHER IN THE END

I don’t want to write ‘omg he’s so hot bark bark bark’ because THAT’S NOT IN CHARACTER!!! :)))

SO WTF AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!

[goldhunt]

( STAB ) standing against to mine, still with your (sender) weapon (example: dagger, sword) in mine's body. ( eheheh )

THIS SHADED LAND SEEMS NEVERENDING. sometimes he feels as if he were one of them. the groaning shades that stick to shattered places, or follow pilgrimages he cannot understand. at first he had thought they might have come here in the same manner as he. washed up in a coffin, remnants of a life that could not return to the erdtree. he has learned, since, in whispers and echoes, that they are something else entirely. that a crusade of flame swept these lands in the holy name of his revered queen, and the embers are still burning. he stepped in one once, melting his shoe, singing his flesh.

his faith is upended, strung up with the corpses that hang by the wayside, so long dead nobody remembers their names. darian, hunter of the dead, stumbles his way through the nightmare, one half of a whole, severed. the blight lives on in him. it isn't enough that it banished his soul from golden, promised rebirth, no. it writhes within him, thorns pressing forth, his mind addled. the gold and silver is lost. he wears now pieces of armour pieced together from soldiers and wanderers alike. by now, he's grown used to the sword he found. how it's slightly longer and thinner than his old one, balancing differently in his hand. his face is bare to the winds. and they see it. darian did not live for so long under the golden order to forget the recognition in even undead eyes. you are but a fraction of a whole, a shattered piece that should not be. marika's name, here, is a curse. and in the absence of her golden light, he too is cursed again.

so he stumbles, then wanders, watching, searching. for a way out, but also ... if the tides of death brought him here, would not rogier, too, have washed up?

he finds a familiar face, but not the one expected.

vyke looks different. he has never been so golden before, not even in the days where they both were under one faith, before the betrayal. he is almost radiant. had he not spoken his name, darian would never have known it to be him, clad in white and gold, familiar and yet changed. a new crest upon him, a new faith, again. not frenzied, as people whispered. alive and sane and here to touch—

it tears open an old wound barely healed. raw skin bare to the putrid, ever-burning air. in the erdtree's shadow, they meet again, and clash.

❛ you left, ❜ gasps he who was once golden, now ashen with blight and uncertainty. the hurt gushes forth, spilling into the icy pale of his eyes, into the motion that pushes him toward the other man, gripping his armour. he can't decide whether to yank him close or push him away. to kiss or to kill—he can do neither. how fell a beast love makes out of grief. ❛ without a word. as if ... as if i—we ... meant nothing at all ... ❜ they wrestle but he barely feels it. too focused on vyke right in front of him. death roars within him, his own nightmare now sharing his anger. it happens too quickly. everything too fast, a blur of angry tears and relief and ...

it feels, at first, like a punch. the blade lodged in his abdomen is hard and cold, not at all the searing agony of the thorned branches twisting their way through his flesh. it is almost merciful. when he loses his breath, everything stops.

❛ vyke— ❜

darian keeps a white-knuckled grip on the knight, a fist in his cloak, while the other hand holds his own sword limply. he still bleeds red. even in his deathless state, his blood is warm and crimson, soaking the dirty cloth and staining worn metal. he glances down between them, at the blade piercing him, connecting them. an old lover's kiss is cold. his blood spills over vyke's hand. for a moment, they are one.

surprise widens his eyes when he raises them again, seeing vyke's behind the helm clearly for the first time again. pale lashes blink slowly in shock. tongue tastes iron, the smell of his own blood. the blade holds him up. as if pinned to thin air, numb and breathless, darian doesn't even sway. ❛ vyke ... ❜ he repeats, barely a whisper. shall it be this, then? a final betrayal?

❛ what has become of you? ❜

TENSION / @lrdvyke