#*lies down in my pool of tears* _(:‚‹」∠)_

[propheticbride]

Lamb to Slaughter Ⅵ

𐙚 As Aemond settles into his position as regent, you begin to find yourself conflicted on where your loyalty truly lies.

𐙚 Aemond Targaryen x Reader (tw: violence, manipulation)

“He dares summon me!” Aemond throws his cup to the wall, the wine staining the wall. “With haste?”

You glance up at him. He’s more angry as of late, not sleeping, less eating. You hate what regency has done to him. There’s times where you find that you cannot comfort him, he shuns your touch and spends his time circling the city on vhagar, or so you assume.

“Are the Lannisters so diminished that they cannot march from the Tooth to Harrenhal without an escort?” It's a rhetorical question, not one he wants you to answer. Another concerning thing that arose from him. You knew he could be mean to girls, but never towards you. But lately, some of it has been directed at you.

“Is there not a large dragon in the Riverlands my love?” you speak up.

He glares at you.

“The Lannisters are a large army yes…but they lack what we posses-”

Aemond’s hand quickly grabs your face before you can register his movement towards you. “I am the prince regent! Not a dog to be called to heel! If they cannot deliver their host to Harrenhal with haste, Daemon’s dragon will be the least of their worries.”

He releases your face, which now aches. Tears pool in your eyes. “Your irritations are justified my love.”

You weren't terrified of Aemond easily. Not even growing up. Not even when he lost his eye and became an angry shell of what he once was. But now. He scared you. Terrified you really. Perhaps the Aemond you loved had been buried with his childhood the night of Driftmark, and who shared your bed now was a stranger.

“I’ve had enough of this cursed blockade.” he huffs, picking his cup up from where he had thrown it and sets it down on the small table. “I may reach for an alliance with The Triarchy.”

You gasp. “Aemond?”

“They will delight in the chance to terrorize the Sea Snake again. Let them weaken his blockade. While our true allies make their long journey East.”

“Will you leave me?” you ask after a few minutes of silence.

He looks at you, “I am not sure yet.”

“Will you find comfort in others?” you felt silly asking it. You hadn't stayed loyal to him, sleeping multiple times with Aegon. But that was over. Aegon had been burned, and the Maester told you his dick was not exactly in riding condition.

“Like you have?” he smirks.

“Like you have!” you yell. “What of your whore in that brothel?”

Aemond lunges at you again, but this time you flail your arms against him in defense.

“Stop it! Stop it!” you cry.

“Where have you earned your braveness from?” Aemond finally finds a grasp on your arm, and twists it in a way that causes you to whimper in pain. “Did you mouth off to Aegon when he was king?”

“Aegon has never lied to me.”

“And I have?” you can feel his breath on your face.

You want to kiss him, and cry. Debating to yourself if this was all worth it.

“Your Grace.” Cole’s voice calls from the doorway, both you and Aemond unaware of him entering.

“It's time you set out for Harrenhal, I think.” Aemond starts. “The longer we wait, the more chance he will prevail. Take what strength we have, and force Daemon from the Riverlands and make his Riverlords fight on two fronts.”

Criston’s weight shifts. “It's a fortnight’s march to Harrenhal-”

“We must strike before his army is raised.” Aemond stops looking at you and glances at Criston. “I will fly out to meet you when the time is ripe.”

Your heart breaks at that. He was going to leave you here. Why would he take you with him?

“My uncle is a challenge I welcome, if he dares face me.” Aemond then glances back at you, and releases you from his grip.

✮⋆˙

“Aemond has grown violent.” you whisper, as if anyone else could hear you.

“Has he hurt you?” Aegon says. He sounds much different now. Tired. Defeated.

“Nothing to worry about.” you insist.

“How have things been?”

“Got enough sheep for your dragons. But none for the smallfolk. They're angry I imagine. Words of riots.” you shake your head. “He's not doing anything about it.”

“Why is this anger directed at us? It is my cunt sister who has raised the blockade and-” he begins to cough before sighing in pain. “-making our people starve.”

“Yes but they expect the King to break it and feed them. You. Now him.” you remind him, reaching for his hand. “Does it hurt?”

“I have enough milk of the poppy to keep it at ease. But I do have pain, yes.” Aegon looks off. “Have they told you my cock has been destroyed?”

You nod.

“The one thing that's good about me. Gone.” tears brim his eyes.

“That’s not true.” you shake your head. “I love you for more than that.”

The room falls silent for a few moments. The grand Maester had come to you first to make you aware of Aegon’s consciousness. You hadn't even let him get through a minute of it before you had rushed immediately to his side.

“What do you remember?” you ask.

“Nothing.” he hoarsely says.

“You challenged Meleys.” Aemond’s voice booms over both of you.

You turn from Aegon and glance back at him. He does not look pleased.

“Aemond-” you start.

“It was foolish.” Aemond cuts you off, only looking at Aegon now.

“I remember…nothing.” Aegon coughs.

“Stop it, Aemond.” you demand, your hand's curling into fists.

He looks at you. “You should have come directly to me when you found out he was awake.”

“Is that my responsibility to you? As what? Your lover or your sister?” you stare him back down.

“Why are you so defiant to me as of late? Am I not gracing your bed as often as perhaps I should?”

“It isn't about you?” you shout.

“Please…” Aegon begs.

“What have you done?” you question.

“I have done nothing.” Aemond shakes his head. “It was merely him challenging the wrong dragon.”

“Why do I feel as if that is not the truth.” you murmur. “Why do I feel like you have lied to me since the very beginning of this relationship?”

“Relationship?” he questions. “Do you think you would be my wife?”

That hurts too.

“More than you would be Aegons?” Aemond laughs.

“I hate you.” you say, looking away from him.

You glance from Aegon to him, then quickly turn to leave them both.

✮⋆˙

The only pleasure you could flaunt in as of late was your darling uncle and his stories from Oldtown. You had never been, but now you desired it more than anything. Away from Aegon, away from Aemond, away from everything.

“I wondered if you’ve heard from father?” Alicent cuts into your conversation.

Gwayne looks at you, smiling and soft. The smile dies down as he glances at your mother.

“I have sent ravens to Highgarden and Oldtown, but have had no reply.” she continues.

“If he wrote letters, it would be to you.” Gwayne replies. “You were always the favorite.”

You giggle at him.

“As are you, I hear princess.” he smiled back at you.

“I have missed you uncle, it has been too long since your presence has graced us. Must you leave so soon?” you frown.

“Your brother is very insistent on it I’m afraid.” he nods.

“Strange there has been no word.” Alicent cuts in again. “Otto Hightower is ever-resourceful.”

You're only slightly annoyed. The only person who had not tortured you or caused you discomfort was in front of you. And you still could not earn a moment of peace with him.

“He will send news when there is news to send.” Gwayne says, showing little annoyance too.

“I’m sure grandsire has reason to not respond.” you nod at him, face flushing.

“I often wonder what life could have been if he had brought you to court instead.” she laughs slightly, an awkward one.

The air grows thick.

Gwayne shares a look with you, knowing this is probably not something that should be said in your presence.

“I’m the eldest son, it was right that I was raised at Oldtown.” he nods.

“I wish I was raised at Oldtown.” you admit.

Gwayne smiles back at you. “I'm sure you would've succeeded there princess.”

“Like Daeron has?” Alicent breaths deeply.

The mention of your brother caused you to stiffen. You rarely even knew him, no one having spoken about him.

“Does he not write to you?” Gwayne inquires.

“Less and less these days.” your mother admits.

“Would you ever take me to Oldtown, uncle?” you cut back in. This was your conversation after all.

Alicent huffs.

“If I could, I would take you and never bring you back.” Gwayne is smiling at only you. “But I must join Ser Criston.”

"To the Riverlands." you nod.

"The war will not touch you princess." he promises, as if he had the power to truly keep it. He bows his head to you, kisses your hand and then rushes off to meet the other knight.

"I'm going to find your sister and ask her to come and pray with me." your mother now speaks to you.

"He was not my son." you turn to look at her. "I have no interest in praying for anyone anymore."

[beif0ngs]

Luffy! The next era belongs to you guys now! So stay alert!

[bluespiritshonour]

I can't believe I'm about to do this but I'm sick and I'm not the one who believes in taking the high road (although here I have to force myself not to take the high road because the alternative is just THAT reprehensible to me)

BUT IMMA DO IT.

Disclaimer: The Beach is a very well-written epsiode. It also makes me want to bury Zuko upto his neck in sand and stone him.

Now that we've got that out of the way, to the Zutara shippers who say they'd rather Jinko than Maiko (I've never seen an actual Jinko shipper dunking on Mai: probably because it's a rarepair, statistical probability what would you?)

I'll explain it to you in your language (you know, the language you understand): Zuko was possesive to the point of being vile when Mai was concerned. He beat up a dude for it even though his insecurities were unfounded. Now compare that to his date with Jin: “She’s not my girlfriend!”

And you say he wasn't heads over heel for Mai?

I hate that this is the only “example” of Zuko simping for Mai. As if jealousy isn't about the person's insecurities instead of a measure of love... But y'know what, the people I'm talking about don't see it that way so they don't get to point that out.

[tetzoro]

DEVILISH DESSERT — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. astarion !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : your cramps have hit you especially hard this month and astarion has an idea that could be mutually beneficial

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, period sex, oral (f!receiving), mentions of blood, unprotected sex but astarion pulls out, multiple orgasms, blood sucking, praise, pet names (darling, my sweet, pet), — WC : 2.2k

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

“believe me, pet, it would be a win-win.” astarion drawls, his hands following the flow of his speech. “you lay down and let me take care of you while i get my fill.”

the thought had crossed your mind before —fleetingly. the last time he fed from your neck the idea planted itself in your mind in a haze joined by many other ones, swirling together as your body tried to make sense of what was happening.

“but,” the argument you were about to make dies in your throat. but, what? astarion was asking you to let him indulge, a chance to satiate his hunger while also pleasuring his lover. his eyes plead with yours, giving away how eager he really is. “sure, why not.”

“that’s the spirit.” he claps his hands together before reaching out for your hand. “i promise i’ll take good care of you, my little treat.”

“what did i say about using that nickname?” you mumble as he takes your hand, quickly bringing it up against his lips for a quick peck, hiding the small smirk that was blossoming.

flashes of the last time he called you that floods your mind – the way it slipped off the tip of his tongue and lured you to his bed. the first night you let him feed off of your neck, taking the blood he needed while his cock was buried in your heat.

“what’s that? can’t hear you darling.” he teases, knowing exactly what was running through your mind right now. he finishes guiding you to his tent and he closes the curtain. “no matter, it’s just you and me now.”

suddenly, you feel a bit nervous under his stare. the reality of your moment coming into the forefront of your brain. you knew he has an affinity for blood, but what if it tasted bad — what if you tasted bad?

his lithe fingers gently cradle your face, adoration soaking his features. his dark red eyes trail all over your features, taking in every little piece of your face.

“gods, you’re beautiful.” he breathes out, slowly leaning in to kiss you. you meet him halfway, lips colliding against one another as his hand starts to trail down the curve of your waist. he pulls apart for a second, placing a quick peck before he speaks again. “i can’t wait to taste you, i know you’ll be as sweet as always.”

his words pour over you as warm reassurance, your body melting against him as he kisses you again. the small flame that had formed before was quickly simmering into a wildfire, lying just beneath the surface and ready to consume both of you in a spark of passion.

but for now, he takes his time with you. his lips trail down your neck, fangs barred as they lightly drag along your jugular. you hold back a gulp, ashamed at how much it makes you yearn for him even more.

he doesn’t bite, not when he’s so eager for what lies below. you lay all the way down the bedroll as he makes his descent, murmurs of praise slipping off his tongue and onto your skin.

he makes quick work of the pants you had on, tearing them down your thighs as his bloodlust starts to kick in. in seconds, his head is buried in between your thighs, nose pressed against your clit as he deeply inhales.

“darling-“ he breathes out, absolutely in awe of how delicious you’re going to taste. “this is…” he trails off, unsure if words could describe how much this means to him.

“never seen you so speechless before.” you tease, trying not to squirm under his gaze, his eyes locked onto the blood woven slick pooling at your entrance.

“what can i say?” he presses a kiss just above your clit, eyes darting up to yours. “this is a gift, and i plan on showing you just how appreciative i am for it. for you.”

you open your mouth to retort but his tongue catches your throbbing nub first, sending a jolt throughout your body. after that first taste, he’s gone. completely lost in you and the frenzy begins.

he tosses your leg over his shoulder, angling himself to get deeper. his tongue delves back into you and you feel him everywhere. it’s enough to arch your back, your fingers clawing in his hair. he grunts approvingly into your messy cunt, licking up every little speck of blood he can get his mouth on.

each precise stroke of his tongue has you unraveling in his hold, undoubtedly gushing more of your bloody essence on his eagerly awaiting mouth. he was practically moaning now, the vibrations shooting throughout your body. he breaks for air for a moment, licking his lips and looking up to you.

“no one could ever taste as sweet as you, darling.” a soft nibble to your inner thigh, his darkened, blown out eyes still locked onto you.

he goes back down on you, slowly pushing in his fingers to draw more out of you, wanting you to flood his vision with the small slice of heaven you’re granting him right now.

it’s all too much and you’d be lying if you said his enthusiasm wasn’t the driving force towards your release. you’d never been with a man so desperate for your taste, especially when you were in this state.

your back starts to arch off the bedroll, reeling in the pleasure that’s about to snap. the coil shatters into a thousand pieces as you dig your fingers into his curls once again. you don’t know if you were loud or not, you don’t know anything as a white veil had taken up your vision, pleasure coursing through your veins as your blood pounds within your ears.

the tent is silent, save for both of your heavy breathing. through half lidded eyes, you see him greedily lick around his lips, ensuring he didn’t waste a drop of the gift you’ve given him.

it takes a few moments for you to come back down to reality, your head swimming in the pleasure astarion hurtled you in. you watch as he places one last kiss against your cunt, slowly backing up on his haunches.

without breaking eye contact, he slips his still coated fingers in his mouth, eyes almost rolling to the back of his head as he savors the taste of you. a beat goes by and you think it’s over and time to head back to your own tent.

but he’s always been a selfish man.

“you know, i don’t think i’ve quite gotten my fill of you yet.” his voice sings in your ear. “i think i want a little more.”

“you might have to wait a bit.” the words flow out of you as you prop yourself up on your elbows, getting a better look at him. his eyes were still blown out — crazed. whenever he has that frenzied look in his eyes, his hunger is still strong and his sights are set on you.

“or, maybe not.” he tilts his head to the side. “let’s have sex so i can make a proper mess of you.”

“what? i-i’m not sure.” you frown slightly. the cramps had subsided, sure. but who’s to say that wouldn’t bring them back?

“think about it.” he drawls, taking off his shirt, showcasing his body. “coming a few times will be very beneficial. it’ll clear everything right out.”

“well.” you pause. realistically, there could be a truth in that. but who knew if your body would listen to logic anyway. and yet, “well i suppose it couldn’t hurt to try.”

“exactly, darling.” he smiles before a softer look falls onto you. “but if it does, you’ll let me know.”

it wasn’t a question. the underlying care he held for you was slipping through the cracks of the tantalizing facade he loved to put up. you nod your head in confirmation. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to test this theory out, especially watching him slowly untie his breeches. lithe fingers that were just inside of you untwisting the knots woven in the string.

his cock springs out from being stuffed away, begging for some sort of relief judging by the amount of precum that was pooling on its head.

he hastily lines himself up to your slick entrance, rubbing his tip around it before it kisses your swollen clit. you gasp out as your body tingles with electricity. after a baited breath, he starts to slide in agonizingly slow, carefully watching your face as he does so.

but you look away, the eye contact feeling a bit much — even after everything. he was just too pretty, his expressions too raw. every moment you held his gaze, the fire inside of you threatens to take over.

“you need to look at me, my sweet.” his cold fingers grasp your chin lightly, tilting your head so you had no choice but to look at him.

before, when you had first slept with astarion, things hadn’t been so intimate. of course, it was all very rushed. it was the end of a gruesome battle and tensions were high, not to mention alcohol was swirling around in both of your systems.

but this was different. so much time had passed since then — or at least, that’s what it felt like. it’s all been so intense since you first met the pale elf that you hardly believe it’s only been less than a few months.

and in that time, you two had gotten so close, really close. slowly prying each other's heart open with gentle, reassuring hands. something that had forged itself out of forced trust, blooming into a beautiful and vulnerable partnership.

“i’m here.” you whisper, finally looking at him. his eyes soften and you realize at some point you started to caress his cheek. your finger smooths over his soft, smooth skin before his lips meet the palm of your hand, pressing a kiss onto it.

“and thank the gods for that.” he whispers back with a pleased look. his hips were flush with yours, moving in slow and short movements so he didn’t overwhelm you. but every second he filled you up, you could feel the pain subsiding in your lower abdomen.

you let out a soft whine, clenching around him as he starts to go a little faster. his eyes trail from yours and down your neck, looking at the twin marks he left the last time he had you in his embrace.

“astarion-.” you gasp out, savoring the way he continues to roll his hips into you, molding your cunt perfectly to take him and him alone.

“yes, my love?” he whispers, pressing a delicate kiss against your neck, taking every ounce of his self control to not sink his teeth into you. but he was making you feel so much better, one bite couldn’t hurt, right? you tilt your neck to the side to show it off for him. he hesitates. “are you sure?”

“please.” a simple request he wouldn’t leave unfulfilled as his fangs dig into your neck, the same spot he drank from before. he sucks lightly, your mind clouding and filling with nothing but stinging pleasure.

his starts to thrust again — faster this time as he gets lost in the overwhelming sweetness of your blood. it fuels through his body, giving him the strength he normally needs to help keep you safe. but instead, he’s only using it to drive into you harder.

he pulls back from your neck with a gasp like he’s been shocked, blood dripping down the sides of his mouth. his attention shifts, watching his cock disappearing into your cunt, feeling you already start to gush around him, blood starting to soak around his length.

“so sweet.” the words barely leave his lips, but enough for you to hear it. his fingers move down to swirl against your clit, trying to give you the same pleasure you were giving him. “make a mess for me, my sweet.”

words escape you as moans take its place, his name a mantra you can’t stop yourself from repeating. the sting from the bite he gave you was rushing through your veins now, every sense of your nerves being heightened to places it’s never been — overwhelming pleasure coursing through your whole body.

you clench around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he can’t control his hips anymore, rutting against you as the pleasure finally consumes you both.

astarion’s eyes flutter shut as you cum around him, coating his cock in your bloody essence. once you stop fluttering around him, he quickly pulls out and cums all over your lower abdomen.

your head lolls back, coming down from the high he just gave you, aftershocks running down your body. astarion lightly trails his hands along you, a surge of energy overcoming him as he breathes in your scent once again.

“there, now that that’s settled,” he pauses, immediately sliding down and tucking his head back in between your thighs. he licks his lips quickly, his tongue darting across as his feast lays before him. “i’d like to resume my meal.”

taglist : @boogiebooboo @niqhtfell @collin-thegreat @zorosdimples @oikawabi-sabi @mammon-s (happy bday!) @moss-is-a-tasty-snack

[starlightsearches]

All Yours

"I'm going to fucking ruin you." / "I won't apologize for marking you up, everyone should know you're taken." / "I don't want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you do."

@somethingvicked tagging you because I accidentally deleted the original ask 😬 just wanted to say thanks for the request and a big, fat SORRY for taking so long. i was scrolling through my drafts the other day and saw this was like a year old and the shame managed to motivate me enough to finish this. Ooops again and I hope you enjoy!! Comments, likes, and reblogs are always cherished 💖

Eddie Munson x F! Reader

AN: 18+ only!!!!!!, car sex, partially-clothed sex, piv, semi-public, titty worship, humping, dacryphilia, unwarranted jealousy, porn with a little plot, eddie's self-depricating at the beginning but he fucks like a god, very possesive! eddie, multiple orgasms, one (1) mention of pregnancy but it's off-hand and mostly unrelated to the sex, unprotected sex, I took the spirit of the prompts more than the literal wording, this is very different for me and maybe rushed? idk you tell me 🙃

Eddie always jokes that you're his second love.

His van—with its stained upholstery, rattling frame and the battery on its last leg—was here first, he says. And despite everything previously mentioned, he treats that car like his baby.

So when he slams his door hard enough to rattle the glass in the window, it wouldn’t take a genius to know something is up.

Eddie sits silently in the half-light, gripping at the steering wheel with both hands and gnawing at his bottom lip until the skin turns white.

"Everything okay?"

He won't even look at you when he shoves the key in the ignition.

"Sure," Eddie says, but there's a bite to his voice, quiet over the roaring grind of the starter, "why wouldn't it be?"

The car does start—despite his abuse to the engine—and you prop your feet up on the dash, raising your brows as he tears out onto the empty street.

"Ohhh-kay. Is this about—"

You don't even get a chance to take a guess.

"It's not about Steve."

Eddie spits Steve's name at the window and the passing trees, their leaves blurring into inky smudges. You watch his jaw tick, eyes flashing from the road to the rear-view mirror, but never to you.

His resolve falters with the press of your hand against his on the gearshift.

"Really? ‘Cause I was going to ask if this was about Patrick Swayze?”

The speedometer ticks up for a quick beat, and then drops, and Eddie squirms in his seat.

He steers off to the right, and the van shakes as the tires bump off the smooth pavement to the gravel edge of the road, little twigs snapping off on the trees outside against the fading paint.

"Fuck," Eddie grumbles, quiet, like he's having a conversation with himself. His fingers catch in his curls when he takes the other hand from the steering wheel. It's dark out here, away from the street lights, but you still catch the shine glazing his lower lashes, the way he blinks to keep any tears from pooling there.

"I mean, it's no big deal," you tell him, petting over his knuckles with your thumb, "I just wish you would have said something."

You're not sure what lies were spread to make sure the goofy little pre-teens didn't show up for movie night and try to break down Steve's door. You just knew that—for once—everybody piled on the couch in the living room was of legal age.

It seemed like an exciting prospect when the night started, but everything was pretty much the same: just more beer, and fewer voices shouting about whatever movie you were gonna watch.

Nancy and Robin were a united front when they pulled out Dirty Dancing, and you joined them, mostly to annoy Steve when he pretended he wasn't interested.

Eddie grumbled about the choice, arm slung around your shoulder, but he came around, eventually. Nobody can resist the allure of Johnny Castle.

However many beers you had may have been one too many, though, because as soon as the credits started rolling, Steve had yanked you from Eddie's grasp and onto your feet as Nancy and Robin were cheering jump jump jump and you ran, stumbling into Steve's arms with a surprisingly powerful leap. Then you were floating, high above the living room with a bird's eye view of the crushed beer cans and Hostess wrappers littered over the carpet for one glorious second.

Until you landed in a giggling heap with Steve groaning beneath you, the room shaking with laughter to the point of tears, until Robin threatened to pee her pants.

Now that you've sobered up a little, you recognize that Eddie hadn't been laughing along.

He lets his head fall back against the headrest, eyes big as saucers, pathetic like a little dog who's about to get yelled at for pissing on the couch, and he twists the hand that's resting beneath yours until your fingers intertwine, gives you a squeeze—a move you recognize as an apology before he's got the words for what he's feeling.

"You know I'm not interested in Steve, right?" you ask, squeezing back.

Eddie nods, but his eyes tell a different story. He carries this thing with him—a kind of self-conscious bewilderment each time you reach for him in a crowd, press your lips to his, call him your boyfriend when there are people around to hear it.

It's kind of funny how much it doesn't make sense to you, how you assumed that, deep down, Eddie knew that you loved him, but also how badly you wanted him. That it wasn't some kind of fluke or coincidence or apathy that kept you here.

Eddie's breath catches in his chest, like he's trying not to cry, and you know you were wrong. You're not doing nearly good enough a job at making Eddie feel half as loved as he is.

You slip your hand from his, resting it just above his knee—an innocent start for your more illicit plans—scooting in your chair until you're almost nose to nose, lower your voice into a whisper.

"I'm serious, honey. You've got nothing to worry about."

Your plan is working already. Eddie swallows hard enough you can see his adam's apple jump in his throat, and his gaze keeps flickering from your eyes to the hand you've got on his thigh, climbing higher with each soothing stroke.

"Yeah, I-I know, baby, it's just—" his breath hitches, but he's fighting to get the words out, wet lips parting with a heavy breath as your fingers travel higher, thumb in the crease between his thigh and his crotch, "it's Steve Harrington."

His voice jumps an octave on Steve’s name, and your quiet laughter comes out in little breaths.

“I don't want to talk about Steve Harrington."

Your words hit his mouth in a puff of hot air, and Eddie gasps into the kiss that follows, moaning a little when your palm meets the zipper of his jeans and his swelling cock beneath. The tip of his nose digs into your cheek, one of his big hands finding your waist, trying to pull you closer, or as close as he can with the center console in the way.

"God, baby. Need you- need you so bad," he huffs, but you’re already breaking from the kiss, lifting your hips from the seat as you crawl into the space between Eddie’s warm chest and the steering wheel.

“Then you can have me,” you tell him, settling your weight in his lap, grasping around for the lever that’ll give you a little extra space. The seat rattles back until it stops with a heavy clunk, and Eddie has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip to keep quiet when your body lurches into his.

He won’t meet your eyes, looking out the blackened windows, checking the car like somebody’s gonna pop out from the back seat.

“What? Uh, I mean—like, here?”

You take Eddie’s face in both your hands, relishing the scratch of the sparse stubble peppering his jaw. Out of habit, his hands come to rest on your thighs, and you hum in approval.

“Whenever–“ you whisper, shifting your hips back just to bring them forward again, the crotch of your jeans meeting the bulge in his, rattling the chains hooked to his belt loops. Eddie’s neck goes taut, head pressed back against the seat.

“Wherever– “ you place your lips at the delicate skin he’s revealed, just brushing along the column of his throat. When you meet his eyes again, Eddie’s pupils are blown wide.

“And however you want me, Eddie. I’m all yours.”

“You’re all mine,” he repeats back to you, and his hands echo the sentiment, his confidence growing as he moves around to grip at your ass cheeks, pulling you more fully against him until he can grind up on you, his lips at your neck now, planting messy kisses at the edge of your throat that have you digging your fingers into his hair just to keep him there.

Your boyfriend's got a big dick—fucking hung like a horse, although he doesn't seem to know it, and he's already throbbing and heavy in his jeans, bucking his hips into you like he's trying to get you pregnant before he’s even inside you.

"Eddie," you sigh his name, just to admire the feeling of it, and he lets out a groan that has you dripping, the damp fabric of your panties sticking to your cunt and dragging over your clit with each shift of his hips.

"Yeah, baby?" he asks, and you hardly notice his hands at the zipper on your jacket, trailing it down, down, down until he can slip it from your shoulders, gripping at your tits through your tank top.

"You feel so—fuck," he's cut you off mid-sentence, pulling the neckline of your top down until your breasts are free, nipples already pebbling in the cool air. Eddie pinches one of them in between two fingers, the metal of his rings biting at the other until you gasp.

"Yeah?" he repeats, harder this time, the word mumbled into your tits. Eddie's smothering himself, licking and kissing and teething his way as he moves to replace one of his hands with his mouth over the dark, stiff peak.

He sucks the bud between his lips, glides his tongue over the sensitive skin there. The sound of your moans fills the car, and suddenly the pressure of his cock isn't enough when there's so much fabric between you. You can't pull away, though, not with how his free arm has circled your waist, forcing the sway of your hips.

"Eddie," you call out again, but he just grunts, onto the other breast now, fucking devouring you in a way only he can.

He's not stopping, teeth scraping at your skin and his lips pursed, sucking the life out of you while his other hand pinches and flicks the other stiff bud, still damp with his spit.

It's almost frightening how close he's gotten you, and just from this—the movement of his hips and his worshiping mouth.

"Eddie."

There must be something different in the way you say it this time, because he listens, finally, snaking his hand down between your bodies, slipping the button on your jeans and shoving his fingers inside until they reach the apex of your aching cunt. Your vision goes foggy, on the verge of tears from the relief of something solid pressed right up against your clit.

And his mouth doesn't stray from your tits, single-minded in a way only somebody like Eddie could be, sucking at your nipples until they both shine.

His fingers curl, perfect, sitting right where you need them as you grind and grind and grind your hips, brain turning to jelly with the way he's making you feel.

You feel Eddie's teeth bite a perfect circle on the inside of your breast, and that's what pulls you under.

You're practically screaming, and Eddie still won't stop, letting you ride out the perfect feeling of him, maybe hoping you'll remember this moment the next time Steve sees you. Just the idea of meeting up with your friends again after this has you flushing so deep you think you might combust right here.

The sparks fade slowly, your pussy still shaking and empty, wet enough you're sure you've soaked Eddie's fingers and he finally relents, his plump, pink lips tracing your collar bones, stopping at the edge of your jaw. He takes the delicate skin their between his teeth and sucks, hard.

That jolts you from your stupor. You press his head back, one hand on his forehead so you can make him look you in the eyes.

"Hey—that's gonna bruise."

You're scolding has no effect; Eddie's on a different plane now, cocky from making you cum so easily and still a little peeved from earlier, pressing past your hold on him until he can reattach himself to your neck.

"Not sorry," he tells you, marking you up between staccato shifts of his hips, "wanna make sure everybody knows you're mine."

It's impenetrable logic—you couldn't argue with him if you wanted to, and you really, really don't want to when he makes his way to your mouth, kissing you, his tongue against yours and his hot, heavy breaths, one hand balled in the fabric of your tank top at the middle of your back.

"Turn around," he tells you, guiding you into compliance with his hands at your waist, and it makes you dizzy, feeling like you'd end up on the ceiling if Eddie didn't keep his grip on you, pulling you tight against him until your back meets his chest.

It’s like he's touching you everywhere, hands on your hips and your tits and pushing your hair up off your neck—looking for more skin that he hasn't painted yet—so you're not prepared when the chair falls back, left breathless and unmoored, staring at the stained upholstery on the roof of Eddie's van.

"You good?" Eddie asks in response to the gasp you let out, urging your hips into the air as he tugs your jeans and your underwear down around your thighs.

You just nod, too desperate for any explanation, to say anything at all. Eddie's turned you stupid, has you whining into his neck when you lean your head back on his shoulder, looking up at his jaw with wild, tear-filled eyes.

"Gonna ruin you for anybody else, sweetheart," he tells you over the sound of his jangling belt, his hot cock pressed against your back. "Gonna make sure you never leave me."

You nod, fucking rabid when he shifts and you can finally feel the fat tip of his dick at your entrance, smearing the first taste of his cum over your lips.

"Nobody else, Eddie," you promise him, "just you."

Eddie takes his cock in his hand, teasing it over your pussy, nudging it against your clit until you jump in his arms. He grips tighter at your waist, holding you just under your tits to keep you still.

"Promise?" he asks.

The tears that slip down your cheeks and onto his neck must be answer enough, because Eddie slides inside you, just the tip, and the relief at even this small feeling of fullness has you crying out.

Eddie's thrusts are methodical and relentless, slow at first, but they build quickly, his hips slamming into you, his grunts from exertion and from pleasure low in your ear. And you're moaning, too, like putty against him, totally enraptured as you watch the muscles in his jaw flex, beads of sweat collecting at his hairline.

He keeps hitting this spot inside you, has you full to the brim, and you're so wet you half-wonder if your pussy juice is soaking into the seat.

It feels like the van is rocking with the force of his thrusts, steam collecting around the edges of the windows from your shared breaths. It’s obscene how in to this you are, how loud it sounds, the wet squelch of your poor cunt echoing around the interior of his van.

"You're gonna cum for me, baby," he tells you, "wanna feel you squeezing my cock."

Four of his fingers meet at the top of your thighs, rubbing steady circles over your clit. You think you might be screaming.

Eddie has you cumming like you're being raptured, twitching in his lap, tits bouncing as he fucks into you, deeper than before until your vision blacks out and you can't see or feel or think of anything but perfect Eddie Munson and his perfect fucking cock.

It's dark when you come to. Maybe he fucked you blind.

Your vision returns, though, just in time. Eddie's chest heaves beneath you, and he pulls out with a grunt, his cum and yours dripping down your thighs in a sight so lurid it's got you flushing down to your neck.

That's definitely going to stain the upholstery.

Eddie doesn't seem to care, stroking his heavy hands over your thighs, pulling your clothes back into place—gentle where they had been rough, his mouth dotting soft kisses against the back of your spine.

Eddie shifts you around in his lap, let's his big eyes find yours. Your fingers twine with his, and he laughs a little when you kiss at his knuckles.

"You know," Eddie says, cheeks pink and a stupid smile on his face, "now that I think about it, Dirty Dancing might be my new favorite movie. I mean, who doesn’t love Patrick Swayze?"

[xvysarene]

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕

Pairing: LADS Men (Main 4) x Fem!Reader Prompt: When you're feeling needy 🫦 Words: ~1.8k || 400-500 per LI Genre: Suggestive (Explicit), Established relationship Notice: Mentions of kink, nudity, sexual acts A/N: It's my birth week, and I'd like to give a little something to all of you who have supported me so far! Obviously, I was ovulating when I wrote this.

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST] || Scorched (When the boys are feeling needy)

⊱ 𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣

The sight of Xavier fresh from his workout was… intoxicating. He leaned against the doorway, chest rising and falling with each exhale, face a little flushed from the exercise.

His white, mesh tank top clung to his torso, accentuating every contour of his sculpted abs. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the droplets of perspiration gliding down his defined biceps.

Innocently, he tilted his head. “𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑙𝘰𝘰𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝘵 𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝘵?”

The wait for him to finish his exercise had been almost unbearable, each passing minute pulling tighter the simmering anticipation that now felt nearly overwhelming.

“𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵?”

He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking. “𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝑑𝑒𝜈𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑒.”

“𝘑𝑢𝑠𝘵… 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝘵𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑤𝘰𝑟𝑘,” you replied, voice much breathier than intended. Though, the subtle biting of your lip betrayed any pretense of innocence.

A slow smirk formed on his lips. “𝐼’𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑎𝘵𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝘰𝑠𝑠, 𝘵ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑔ℎ,” he said teasingly.

“𝛮𝘰𝘵 𝑔𝑟𝘰𝑠𝑠.” You felt a blush creep up your neck, breath quickening as heat pooled low in your belly. “𝛢𝑐𝘵𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝑖𝘵’𝑠 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝘰𝑓 𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑠𝘵𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒.”

Xavier’s knees bumped into yours as he stood tall before you. How he looked down at you made your heart race with every beat.

“𝐼𝑠 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑠𝘰?” His tone was playful, but there was a dangerous edge to it.

The room suddenly felt too small, too warm, as he leaned in, a flicker of something darker crossed his features.

“𝑊ℎ𝑎𝘵’𝑠 𝘰𝑛 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑?” His breath was hot against your ear as he effortlessly shifted you on the sofa. 

The faint musk of sweat clouded your senses as you parted your legs, welcoming the solid weight of his body pressing into yours.

Tongue-tied, your thoughts scattered, solely concentrating on the way he began deliberately leaving a map of kisses down the column of your neck. 

“𝐼…” The words died in your throat when he lightly bit on the sensitive spot just below your ear, soothing the sting away with his tongue.

“𝐶𝘰𝑚𝑒 𝘰𝑛, 𝑑𝘰𝑛’𝘵 𝑔𝘰 𝑚𝑢𝘵𝑒 𝘰𝑛 𝑚𝑒,” his soft, seductive purr ruined you.

The way your hip involuntarily bucked, desperate to feel every inch of him, sent a ripple of excitement coursing through you as it met his unmistakable bulge.

You swallowed hard. “𝐼—𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝘵 𝑠𝘵𝘰𝑝 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝘰𝑢’𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚, 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝘰𝑢—”

Before you could finish, Xavier yanked his top off, tossing it aside in a blur.

“𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑒𝘵 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝘵𝑖𝘰𝑛 𝘵𝘰 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒.”

Once you felt one of his hands caressing the inner of your twitching thigh, inching higher to cup your core—that wouldn’t stay clothed for too long—you knew that he would satisfy every craving you had.

⊱ ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝

A week of waiting for Rafayel to return from his international exhibition felt like hell—especially with his endless teasing, sending you lewd pictures and provocative texts which only made it worse.

The constant reminders of what you couldn’t have gnawed your patience thin.

Like that photo of his glistening chest, fresh from the shower, while bearing a towel low on his hips, displaying the lines of his Apollo’s belt and the hint of what lay beneath.

Or when he sent you that audio message, voice rough and raspy, graphically describing what he wanted to do to you. His laboured breathing and the rustling of sheets hinted at the naughty thing he was doing, likely touching himself.

“𝛭𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒, 𝑔𝘰𝑟𝑔𝑒𝘰𝑢𝑠?” Rafayel called out from the front door.

You ran to him, unable to contain yourself any longer. As soon as he was within reach, your arms went around his neck, pulling him down into a desperate kiss.

“𝑇ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ, ℎ𝑢ℎ?” he murmured, breath hot against your lips, palms squeezing your ass with a playful touch.

“𝛭𝘰𝑟𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝘰𝑤,” you whispered, fingers tangling in his dusky purple hair. “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝘵𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠.”

A wicked smile painted his lips. “𝘑𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝘵𝘰 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔.”

Without another word, he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom. If it were up to you, though, you would have been fine even on the parlour’s floor.

In a whirlwind of kisses and tangled limbs, he expertly discarded your clothes, laying you bare beneath him.

His eyes drank every inch of you, desire palpable in the way he pressed you into the sheets.

“𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑠𝘰 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ,” you breathed, arching against him as you were finally feeling the warmth of his bare skin again.

“𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝘰𝑤.” His teeth found your ear, tugging at the lobe. “𝐼’𝜈𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑛𝘵𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝘵𝑖𝑙 𝐼 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝘵ℎ 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛.”

His hands were everywhere, and he was a menace, deliberately taking his time in memorising every dip and curve of your body, stopping you from taking things fast.

Rafayel tutted when he felt your trembling hands graze his belt. “𝛮𝘰𝘵 𝑠𝘰 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝘵, ℎ𝘰𝑛𝑒𝑦.” As a punishment, he pinned your wrists above your head, securing them with his belt. Tightly.

The whimpers coming out of your mouth only fueled him more. He chuckled at your impatience, leaving more butterfly kisses down your stomach, before beginning his descent to where you throbbed most intensely.

“𝛦𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝘰𝑛 𝑚𝑒,” he demanded, his voice commanding and gentle all at once.

A smouldering fire lit up in his pretty orbs as your eyes locked with his. “𝛮𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝘵𝘰 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝘰𝑤 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝘵 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛.”

⊱ ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖

Your fascination with Zayne’s hands may have to be questioned.

There was something undeniably captivating about them, scars and all—those pale, jagged lines, if anything, only added to their charm. 

For all their roughness, there was a grace in his hands. They had saved countless lives. And they also knew how to bring pleasure, especially when those skilled fingers delved into your—

“𝛨𝘰𝑤 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑙𝘰𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑔𝘰𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵𝘰 𝑠𝘵𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝘵 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠?”

Lost in thought, you didn’t even realise that Zayne had abandoned reading the journals altogether. His attention was now entirely on you.

“𝐼𝑠 𝑖𝘵 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝘵𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑚?”

A knowing smile pulled at the corner of his lips. With a gentle flick to your forehead, he murmured, “𝑌𝘰𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝘰��𝑢𝑙𝑎𝘵𝑖𝑛𝑔.”

Of course, he kept track of your cycle. How he noted your dilated pupils and the rosy hue tinting your cheeks only confirmed what he already knew: your libido was reaching its peak.

Driven by the growing desire, you flung a leg over his thigh, straddling the solid muscle beneath you, seeking the contact you craved.

“𝛢𝑛𝑑?” you challenged, “𝑊ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑔𝘰𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵𝘰 𝑑𝘰 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵 𝑖𝘵?”

As he shifted to support your weight, the movement created delicious friction through your thin pyjamas, causing an unbidden mewl to spill out of your lips.

His mouth left a trail of heat along your exposed décolleté, tongue flicking out ever so slightly to taste your skin.

“𝛭𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑠ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝘵𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢’𝜈𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵.”

Lips brushing over the sensitive hollow between your collarbones, he pressed a deeper kiss right above your heart. 

Excited, you whispered in his ear, “𝑅𝑖𝑔ℎ𝘵 𝑛𝘰𝑤, 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝘰𝑤 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝘵 𝑖𝘵 𝑤𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝘵𝘰 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒, 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑝 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑢𝑚.”

That stopped him in place. You felt a surge of satisfaction as you watched his eyes darken, almost consuming all the greens in his eyes.

“𝑌𝘰𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝘵𝘰 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝘰𝑢𝑠 𝘵𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑖𝘵𝘰𝑟𝑦.”

Though you typically played it safe, the two of you still indulged in the feeling of raw intimacy every now and then.

Feeling a bold urge, you decided to take it up a notch. “𝐷𝘰𝑛’𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑚 𝑚𝑒 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝘵𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝑖𝑛 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝘰𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑍𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒?”

The effect was immediate. A low growl was your only warning before he pushed you back against the soft bedding, his masculine body looming over you. 

Those hands that you loved so much moved to your hips, fingers digging in with a bruising grip as he put you in a position that highlighted your vulnerability and his dominance.

“𝐷𝘰𝑛’𝘵 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝘵 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛 𝑦𝘰𝑢.” His once smooth and controlled voice had turned rough, full of dark promise. “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑠.”

⊱ 𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤

Nothing looked better than seeing Sylus a bit roughened up after the end of a long day.

Silver strands had grown unruly, hanging down over his forehead. A new scratch blemished his sharp jawline, though the red mark had already faded to a tender pink as he shucked his suit off.

The midnight black dress shirt he had meticulously buttoned earlier had now popped open, blessing you with a view of his firm pectoral muscles.

“𝑊ℎ𝑎𝘵’𝑠 𝑔𝘰𝘵𝘵𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝘵𝘰 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔?” Sylus’s arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard body. The towel in your hand slipped from your grasp as he nuzzled into your shoulder like a cat seeking affection.

“𝑊-𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵?” you stammered.

Goosebumps danced across your skin as he spun you around, trapping you between the cold marble of the shower and the heat radiating from his bare chest.

“𝑌𝘰𝑢’𝜈𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑗𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑦 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝘰𝑚𝑒.”

When his rough palm “accidentally” bumped into the hard nubs of your breasts, a sharp gasp broke free from your lips. His other hand had journeyed between your thighs, finding your essence sticking to the fabric of your shorts.

“𝛢ℎ… 𝑠𝘰𝑚𝑒𝘰𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝘵𝑦 𝘵𝘰𝑑𝑎𝑦.”

Bashfully, you attempted to slip away, which was stupid as there was no easy way to escape the solid barrier of his broad frame.

“𝐼𝘵’𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝘰𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑔𝘰 𝑠ℎ𝘰𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑏𝑒𝑑,” you managed to blabber out, cheeks burning at the intensity of his gaze.

Your yelp was loud as the rain shower was suddenly switched on, the cascading water drenching you both in an instant.

“𝘚𝑦𝑙𝑢𝑠!”

His rich laughter echoed through the steamy shower. He dipped his head, tugging your hair slightly before his teeth grazed against your pulse point

“𝐿𝑒𝘵’𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝘰𝑟𝑒 𝜤 𝘵𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝘵𝘰 𝑏𝑒𝑑.”

You called out his name in a needy moan, the sound trembling with urgency as he undressed you both. The warm water slicked your skin, and his hands glided over your wet, exposed body with an electrifying touch.

“𝛢𝑟𝑒𝑛’𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝘵𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝘰𝑚 𝘵𝘰𝑑𝑎𝑦’𝑠 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑛𝘵?” you gasped.

Despite the concern, you still eagerly welcomed his mouth as it collided with yours. Your lips parted to invite his tongue in, clawing at his shoulders desperately as you struggled to maintain on your tiptoes.

He pulled back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “𝛨𝑚𝑚, 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝐼 𝘰𝑢𝑔ℎ𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝘰𝑟𝑘 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑖𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝘵.” The teasing lilt in his voice stole your breath. “𝑊ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑏𝑒𝘵𝘵𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝘵𝘰 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒?”

However, as he hoisted you up, his hardness aligning perfectly with your aching need, you knew that he would never let you leave the shower unsatisfied before doing so.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[spatialwave]

LEAVE ME TO DREAM

➸ pairing: arcane survivor!jayce talis x fem!reader ➸ word count: 1.5k ➸ tags: mdni! porn with plot, angst, hurt/comfort, grief/loss, depression, sad ending, rough sex, choking, sorta-dubcon. ➸ notes: wow this was a lot more depressing than i intended it to be lol. my apologies. i rewatched yesterday and felt so much emotion for arcane survivor jayce and wrote whatever came to mind! i hope you like it 🥹

Months had passed, months without Jayce. You remember the days clearly back then, he had been avoiding you – spending hours and hours in his lab after Viktor left. It was fine, you learned to manage seeing him only when he wanted. You told yourself it was fine

It wasn’t, but you managed.

Then he disappeared, as though he vanished out of thin air. Everyone you spoke to brushed you off, no one in the council would even look in your direction. Ambessa made it impossible.

You were a mess, alone in your apartment for weeks. Months.

There were days when you wanted to give up because what was life like without Jayce? There was no life with lost love, it was so painful that your stomach twisted in pain every waking hour. You’d begun to grieve, losing yourself to the idea that he’d never return. That his body had become one with the earth where he might lay dead.

It was late afternoon, your body curled into the blankets, naked and basking in the sun that pooled through the window. You had been in and out of sleep all day, tossing and turning. Having managed to shower, but nothing else but crawl back into your safety and remain there.

You dreamt of Jayce, like you always had. Memories flooded your mind, tears settling in the outer corners of your eyes.

Sleep was taking you over, eyes fluttering when the door to the apartment slammed open. You jolted up, hands grabbing at the blankets that you wrapped around your body haphazardly.

“Who’s there?” You shouted through a shaky voice, adrenaline coursing through your veins. Your bare feet padded along the wooden floorboards, heavy as you stomped toward imminent danger with nothing to lose, “My fiancé will be back any second,” you lied, baring your teeth as you turn the corner into the main area of your quaint apartment.

That’s when you gasped, the sound mixed with a strangled scream. Shaky hands covered your mouth.

“Jayce?” You croaked, “Oh my gods, Jayce.”

You weren’t permitted time to greet him, nor comment on the way he appeared. Rugged, a beard and hair that hung over his ears.

The door slammed behind him and the hextech hammer dropped to the ground with a thud heavy enough that the wood cracked beneath. He stepped toward you, earning another gasp as you were pushed against the kitchen table.

“Jayce,” your voice full of worry, fingers touching a beard you’d never seen on him before, “where have you–”

Lips crashed to yours, tongue forcing its way past your lips. You moaned, abiding by his movements as the blanket fell from your body, and you sat atop the table, thighs tight around his hips. Arms snaked around his neck, fingers tangling into his shaggy hair and tugging harshly as emotions flooded you. Tears streamed down your cheeks, dripping down your neck as you whined into his mouth.

“Can we talk?” You forced yourself back, chest heaving with heavy breaths as you looked into his eyes. All you could see was pain and loss, fear – anger. Wherever he was, he had been tormented, left him a shell of a man, “Jayce, please–”

He blinked hard, twitching as if to blink a vision away.

“No,” he growled, face burying against your neck as he sucked and bit with his scarred lips, rough hands groping at your naked hips hard enough you tried to squirm away.

“Stop,” you whined, your body reacting to his touch as your wet cunt rolled against the erection hidden under his slacks, but you yearned for more than this. You had questions that burned your mind, a need to heal whatever hurt him. To tell him that you missed him and loved him, that you were scared he’d been dead.

Your mind was blurry, heart pounding with a flurry of emotions as you tilted your head back and cried out.

“Just… be quiet,” he hissed, biting hard against your neck and causing you to yelp, “please,” he begged against your skin, tongue licking at the bruise that had formed over your skin.

You shuddered, lips quivering as you felt his hands grab at your body with fervor. You obliged, your heart knowing that this was a need. A distraction, perhaps, and you decided to welcome it wholly.

Jayce was back, that’s all that mattered. You had him. You could manage.

The man who was once tender with his touches was no longer here. His hands handled you with a sharp edge, leaving lasting redness and bruises in its wake, wrapped around your neck as you whimpered and tried to cry out in pleasure, but you couldn’t make a sound as his fingers pressed against the sides of your windpipe.

You were hastily pushed back on the kitchen table, dishes, papers and clutter pushed to the floor as Jayce fucked you with little remorse for your own needs. Your body had missed his touch, legs spread apart as his cock left a searing pain deep inside you and his teeth pinched your nipples.

With parted lips, all you could offer was a pitiful attempt at a whimper, eyes fluttering as he stared down at you – eyes full of rage. Lust and love were nowhere to be seen as he shoved two fingers between your lips, forcing your sounds to cease. You sucked as best as you could, offering the little energy you had to spare as your body shook beneath him.

The legs of the table creaking so loudly you were certain that it would break, the wood shaking and squeaking as it scraped against the flooring

Jayce’s breaths were ragged and heavy, moans choking in his throat as his cock fucked you in a tireless pace and he stared down at the way your breasts bounced with each hard snap of his hips. Your heels dug into the small of his back, thighs squeezing as the walls of your pussy clenched around him, silently begging for more.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth, and you gasped for air, the hand around your throat moving to massage your tits, instead pinching at your nipples hard enough that you squealed. You caught your breath and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. It was an incessant amount of pleasure and touch, leaving your body weak and near-limp.

Tears stung your eyes again, and you lifted a tired arm so your delicate hand caressed his bearded jaw. A gentle touch you had longed for since he stormed through the doors a different man that you’d seen him last.

“I… missed you,” you croaked between his unabating thrusts, whimpering voice catching in your throat with each deep send of his hips.

Jayce cringed back from your touch, flinching and twitching like he had before. His hands moved to your hips, stiffening his body and yours as he stared down at you with widened eyes and a newfound expression, as though clarity struck.

For a moment, his eyes flickered. There he was — your Jayce.

“Jayce,” you urged, moving to sit up as your hands rested on his cheeks, “please. Talk to me. I need you.”

His golden eyes grew damp, pupils dilating until they were blown out.

“I’m sorry,” the words croaked from trembling lips as the tears spilled down his cheeks. Emotions took over as he wailed out a sob, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into a tight hug, face pressed into the side of your head, “I’m so sorry… sorry.”

You looked at the wall beyond him, your chin over his shoulder, as you listened to his cries and sobs. Your hands pressed against his back, soft and comforting.

He continued to mumble out apologies as you felt his tears stain against your skin.

Under your breath, you shushed him, hand gliding up and down his spine as you allowed him the space to feel. To exist without any negative repercussions, to live through whatever traumas he’d experienced while he was away.

The questions burned deep in your mind, but you bit back the curiosity. Your patience was thoroughly tested, but you could do this for him. You held your lover close and prayed to whatever god that would listen to keep him safe and in your arms. To keep him in your shared apartment, that he wouldn’t leave like he had.

“I love you,” he whimpered, nails clawing down your back and leaving reddened welts behind, “I’m sorry–”

You opened your eyes as he jerked back, watching in fear as he hurriedly put his clothes back on and grabbed the hammer. He was all over the place, leaving you unable to pin down the thoughts racing through his head, “I… I have to take care of it.”

“Take care of what? Jayce? Jayce!” You called out, scrambling to your feet as you chased after him, but your fiancé had already slammed the door in your face.

You whimpered, leaning against the door with your palms flat against the wood. Then you cried and cried for hours – begging that it had only been a bad dream. That the touches and bruises that lingered on your body would disappear much like he had.

You weren’t certain that you could manage any longer. Everything was a mess.

[plathfiles]

Felix catton x reader where oliver is being really weird towards reader and felix is protective

gah this sounds excellent! thank you for the request!

pairing: felix catton x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers!!! bit of an au, language and light nsfw, stalking, obsession. one use of y/n

————————————————————————

It was your first summer at Saltburn and you and Felix were attached at the hip.

Reading together by the poolside, you were curled up to his chest and reading the Harry Potter book that was passed around the entire group that summer. Felix had just finished it and now it was your turn.

Felix was reading a book that you had recommended to him — “The Secret History” by Donna Tart. Getting board with reading, you sat yourself up. A groan escaped Felix’s lips and you smiled. “Just going for a swim, care to join?” You asked, turning to him.

He seemed tempted, but he couldn’t put his book down. You just had that good of taste. “Maybe after I finish this chapter love,” he said. You nodded and made your way to the pool.

A moment later and out of thin air, Oliver appeared next to you. Oliver was quite jealous of the fact Felix had invited both of you to Saltburn. He wanted Felix to himself but Felix couldn’t keep his eyes away from you.

“I can see you both love each other very much,” Oliver says slowly and calculated. He turns his head to meet your gaze and there is a glimmer in his eyes.

“We do,” you confirm, a smile creeping onto your face. You blushed.

“I can hear you in the next room,” Oliver said, making his way towards you. “I see how he fucks you and how much control he has over you,” he said, getting only slightly closer.

You back away, looking at him with some confusion. ‘Why would he watch you and Felix?’

“Felix and I’s relationship is none of your business Oliver,” you retorted, snappily.

Before Oliver could respond, Felix cannonball’s into the pool. Swimming over to you, he slides his arms around your waist.

“What are you talking about?” Felix asked, a slight bit aggressive. Then Oliver replied. “Oh nothing, just my party,” he shrugged lying, swimming away from the both of you.

You let it be, too stunned to speak.

Later that night, you and Felix had snuck away after dinner. You two were in the labyrinth, Felix’s hands pulling at your waist. His lips trailing kisses down your neck leaving love bites and little marks as he went.

“Felix,” you giggled, his touch soft but still tickling.

“What?” He smiled teasingly, moving a hand to brush some hair from your face. You both made eye contact. Felix was much taller than yourself and you enjoyed how he towered over you. He brushed some hair from your face and leaned into kiss you.

But you backed away in fright, from the corner of your eyes you could see someone in the bushes.

Felix grew concerned, having never seen you like this.

“Whats wrong?” Felix asked.

You saw a figure near a hedge, the person looked small and angry. You looked back to Felix. “It’s Oliver,” you whispered, hoping he would believe you.

Felix saw your frightened eyes and got up from on top of you. “Oliver?” He shouted to the dark.

You saw now that no one was there.

Felix turned to you, “Are you okay? Because no one was there,” he said, concerned.

You shook your head, standing up. “No I’m not alright. I just saw Oliver watching us, right after he told me today that he stalks us,” you said, tears forming in your eyes.

“Do you not believe me?” You asked Felix.

Felix came up to you and embraced you in a soft hug. “I believe you,” he said. “He lied about his family. I’m not sure what to do.” Felix added.

“He lied about his family?” You asked, growing more concerned. “He’s a psychopath,” you said, pulling away from Felix.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Felix said, protectively. “I’ll get mum to throw him out right after the party tomorrow night,” he said.

You nodded, “stay by my side,” you said. Felix took your hand and kissed your forehead, “I won’t let him near you.”

The next night at the party, you were dressed as a nymph. There was glitter in your hair and on your cheeks. You wore an old silky night gown, which Felix said he couldn’t wait to take off later.

Felix had kept his word and stayed next to you the whole night. Elsbeth and Sir James loved the look of you two, enjoying yourselves and having fun.

You didn’t see Oliver anywhere and wondered where he could be lurking.

Towards the end of the night, Felix wanted to get you back to his bedroom. On the way up the stairs, you ran into Oliver.

Felix went infront of you, he wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Not from this lying creep. “Go away Oliver,” he said strongly.

“I wanted to explain myself,” he said, sounding drunk.

“We don’t want your explanations,” Felix replied. “You lied to me and my family. And then you admitted to stalking me and y/n,” he said.

Oliver came closer, “I just wanted to be your friend. One of the group.” He said pathetically.

Felix went to move past Oliver, you following behind. As you went passed Oliver he tried to grab you and Felix turned to punch him in the face.

“Don’t touch her!” Felix yelled, causing some faces, including the Catton family and Farleigh to see.

Oliver in his drunken state missed a couple steps and fell. Not terribly injured he propped himself up. He was gone from Saltburn the following morning.

[emmyrosee]

SAKUSA ANGST??????❤️

By the time Kiyoomi gets to home, the moon is halfway past the skyline and high in space, and the bright light trickles through the blinds, carving your disappointed features while Kiyoomi jumps at the sight of you, standing firmly in the living room.

"Jeez," he snickers, putting his keys on the counter. "You scared me, baby, what're you doing up-"

"I know, Kiyoomi."

His brows furrow in confusion, but behind his dark pools, you see shame. And his eyes always gave him away. “What? What’re you talking about?”

You blink lazily, “I saw Hinata. You weren’t with him. Told me you never even texted him.” You shake your head, “if you’re going to commit adultery, make sure you have all your bases covered.”

He stays silent for a moment, letting his eyes cast down and avoiding your judgmental, hurt gaze. A hand comes up to scratch the back of his head, pick at a hangnail, jam into his pockets, anything and everything to not meet your betrayed looks.

“How long?”

“Baby, I-“

“Do not pull that manipulative shit on me,” you say exhaustedly. “Don’t start with that nonsense. I want to know how long. And I want to know who.”

He finally meets your eyes, “I made a mistake-“

“No no. New couples make mistakes,” you snap, hoping that by yelling out your frustrations you won’t cry the hot tears swelling in your waterline. “We’ve been together three years, you don’t get to make those kinds of mistakes, you don’t get to tell me not to worry about one person, then cheat on me.”

When he slowly lowers his hands, guilt struck in his gaze, you feel bile rising up your throat.

“It’s… your PR manager. Isn’t it?” You chuckle. “Your “work babe”? The one you assured me was over and done with?”

“No no, you’ve got to listen to me-“

“After I specifically begged you to tell me it wasn’t true, after you assured me nothing funny was going down, after you told me you’d gone to their house to fire them-“

He looks away. Darts his eyes again. Your hands come up to cover your mouth, “oh my god… you… went there to be with them- YOU WENT THERE TO BE WITH THEM WHILE I WAS HOME? WAILING OVER YOU?!”

He says nothing to defend himself, and you scream and jump up and out of your seat, grabbing the nearest pillow and smacking him with it. He shields himself with his arms, ducking slightly from your swings, but he doesn’t say anything. Nothing to change your mind, sway your thinking or deny, deny, deny anything.

“You lied to me!” You sob, finally losing your composure. “You lied square to my face, for what! For THEM?!”

“Baby, listen-“

“DONT FUCKING CALL ME THAT, SAKUSA!” You shriek, throwing the pillow down and meeting his teary eyes with your enraged ones. “Don’t FUCKING start with me!”

He calls your name in an attempt to calm you down, extending his arms to create distance, “it was a mistake, I made mistakes.”

“And that’s a crock of shit.”

“I thought I was missing something, and I thought they could give it to me! Honest! It meant nothing, just meaningless dates and kisses to try and fill something inside that I needed, and-

“You are not helping yourself right now, Sakusa,” you pant.

“I wanted to leave them, I swear on my mother-“

“And you couldn’t manage to do that.”

“So now what?” He chokes. “So-So-So are we just done? Three years just gone?”

“Because of you.”

“I’m not going to let this happen,” he sobs, collapsing to his knees and wrapping his arms around your legs. “Please, don’t leave me. I’ll fire them. You can go with me.”

“Clearly firing them isn’t going to make a difference,” you snarl. “Since your tongues been down their throat and god knows what else.” You shake him off your legs and continue to look down at him in distain, “I’ll have the boys send for my things. I’m staying with Osamu. Do not contact me anymore.” You shake him off your legs, and he looks up at you like a kicked dog.

“No-“

“Yeah, you don’t get to say no, anymore,” you snap. “Since clearly you had a hard enough time doing it for them. I’m taking control of the situation now. You will never make a fool out of me again.”

“Please,” he begs, “I hated it, I hated all of it, I-“

“Stop lying, Kiyoomi,” you shake your head. “It’s not worth it. You’re not going to sway me.”

At that, Kiyoomi stops. His eyes blink a line of tears down, his hands rest in his lap, and his bottom lip trembles. You take a deep breath, “please let Osamu in when he comes for my belongings.”

He says nothing. He merely continues to stare up at you desperately, pleadingly, and you scoff before making your way down the hall to grab your packed bag. “Unreal,” you hiss. “You are unbelievable.”

“You don’t have to leave,” he chokes. “You can stay here, I’ll leave, I’ll go to Bokuto’s, he’ll-“

“He’ll let you in and stay with him after you have the nerve to cheat on me?” You scoff. “Bokuto is not an idiot. He’s not going to just ignore the shitty things you do because you’re his teammate.”

Kiyoomi knows that if you walk through that door, you’ll never come back. You know it’s tearing him up inside, you see it in his exhausted features and you know it in your soul.

Good.

[eclipseslayer]

• CW: Alucard Tepes x f!reader drabble; cunninglingus on period, descriptions of blood.

"Alucard, I'm on my period..."

"I know, love."

Alucard, sandwiched between your thighs, looks up at you with those golden eyes of his. They're sharp, and pointed—eyes that are full of need, full of want and desire—like a tiger, as if they're about to pounce.

He groans as he nears your panties—the scent of blood fills his head, and it makes his fangs tingle, and he feels his tongue begin to salivate. Drool nearly seeps out of his mouth, but he swallows, thickly, needing to keep himself composed, because otherwise he would ravish you.

He knows he'd tear you apart if he didn't control himself, so, he goes slowly.

Slow kisses are pressed onto your stomach, and then onto your lower abdomen. He closes his eyes and you can feel his blonde lashes flutter against your skin while his nose nudges against your skin, inhaling the scent of you deeply, as if he were getting the fresh smell of his food.

His fingers come up and they touch the hem of your panties; sharp claws brisk along the fabric there before tugging them down, and tossing the bloodied fabric away, revealing that delicious, coppery, sweaty scent that fills Alucard's nose as he inhales deeply.

"So... sweet..." Alucard mumbles before he moves in, spreading your legs apart even more for him so he can see the filthyness of your pussy.

It's a seeping, red mess. Blood is smeared between your thighs, and all over your folds. It's a mess, but to Alucard, it's a pool of ecstasy, to which he decides to dive in, nose first, nudging along your folds like a needy cat, he smells deeply, making his head dizzy with desire. Then, finally, he opens his mouth, darting his tongue into the deep hole of your pussy, tasting the blood that plagues your very being.

Well, to Alucard it wasn't a plague. No, in fact, this plague is making him groan, and he moans from how good it tastes.

Sharp talons dig into the meat of your thighs which makes you wince, but the feeling of Alucard's tongue makes you easily forget about the pain.

"Alucard..." You moan his name softly, and Alucard grins.

Blood stains his teeth while a pair of daggered, golden eyes meet yours.

"Your blood tastes as good as I imagined, my love," he replies in that soft, sweet tone of his before he buries his face back in between your thighs, where he begins to lap his tongue at your hole, tasting the blood that lies there.

He groans as he does, enjoying the feeling of the blood on his tongue, swallowing it, savoring it on his tastebuds... he enjoys it all, getting lost in the feeling of your blood on his tongue.

"Alucard."

Your words are quick, and filled with a shortness of breath; it snaps Alucard out of his dreamlike state. When he looks up at you to find narrowed eyes, his face flushes from embarrassment, realizing that he probably wasn't bringing you too much pleasure by simply lapping at your folds, so, he apologizes quickly.

"Apologies, I was too... hungry."

You forgive him quickly, and so he eagerly moves back in between your thighs, except this time, he focuses on sucking your clit.

He wraps his lips around the sensitive nub, and begins to suck, fervently, which pulls out moan after moan after moan from you.

Your head spins from the feeling, feeling as if you're at the top of the world, on the highest mountain, while Alucard sucks intently onto your clit.

"God, Alucard," you moan, and your hands grip his hair even tighter.

Alucard hums against your clit, finding your moaning enjoyable. He's pleased, really, with how good you sound that his nails dig even more into the plump flesh of your thighs, telling you how much he's really enjoying it all.

You, on the other hand, feel as if your very body is on fire. Each nerve feels as if it's been lit as Alucard sucks eagerly on your clit. The fire kindles lowly at first, but it grows into a roaring flame as he continues his onslaught, making your skin burn with desire as your stomach tightens into a knot, needing to be released.

You warn Alucard of your oncoming release by tugging on his hair and murmuring his name in a lull before finally, you arch into his mouth, your legs shake and you cry out his name,

"Alucard!"

until finally, your body stops trembling as you fall flat against the bedsheets.

Alucard hums, and pulls his lips away from your clit. Saliva and blood coat his lips when he looks up at you with those golden eyes of his.

"May I continue, love? I'm afraid I haven't had my fill, yet."

[blowjob-horseguy]

Steve opened his eyes and above him was a pale man with long curly hair. It fell like buoyant curtains of ringlets from either side of his head, obscuring their surroundings. The man frowned down at him with a fierceness that made Steve think for a second they had met in a tavern one night and Steve had done something to slight him.

Steve opened his mouth to speak and felt a sharp edge be pushed harder onto his throat. Steve's vocal cords froze. Whatever he did, it was really bad. Steve runs through a quick memory catalogue of all the men he's slighted recently and how, so he could know what to start apologizing profusely for.

Did he sleep with his woman? Did he sleep with his man? Did he win too much money from him? Did he lose too much money to him? None of those seemed right.

He considered briefly that he perhaps slept with the man himself but quickly dismissed the idea. If he had bedded anyone with hair like that and this passionate a disposition, he would not need to search for the memory.

He looked closer at his features. Hair so long it could easily be a maidens, and so dark it was almost blue. Thick, furrowed brows and lips thin and white, pressed tight together, sandwiched by dimpled cheeks. His skin was pale enough to look sickly and almost green in hue. Steve definitely would have remembered this face had he seen it before.

"You are awake" said the man.

His voice dragged like wood over coarse sand: like he wasn't used to speaking outloud. Steve got a glimpse of his teeth, Sharp and thin, unlike any other human teeth he had ever seen.

A chill ran down Steve's spine as he realized why.

This is no man; this is a Merrow!

Steve's mother had told him tales of these creatures.

When Steve answered the call to the sea, his mother warned him; beware of the sea maidens they may seem beautiful on the shore, but when they lure you to their home you see their true colors. Green skin and scaley behinds. Teeth sharp enough to tear through flesh, and claws the same.

The men are said to be even uglier, with the faces of hogs and catfish, and they drag sailors down to their dens to enslave them for eternity.

Steve has always been cautious about these monsters; avoiding the bright red cap that was the telltale sign of a merrow. The others on the ship have always ridiculed him for it, and now here he is in one of theirs's clutches.

and it's not... unattractive. Strangely.

"Speak" The merrow demanded

"Please let me go" Steve spoke, his voice breaking embarrassingly.

"Go where" the merrows eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Back to my ship."

"You will attack me."

"No, I won't I promise. I'm a peaceful man, very peaceful. Couldn't hurt a fly, me. Wouldn't even know where to start."

The jagged thing at Steve's neck pressed into his skin a little harder, Steve tried to lift his chin as far as it could go to get away, but he felt a small sting as the device broke his skin.

"All men lie."

"I'm not lying, I would never lie" Steve lied.

While far from the swashbuckling type, he has never shied away from a fight, especially when it comes to protecting his fellow crewmates. He's only been on the ship a few years, but he has improved his fighting form considerably from the naive nobleman's son he once was.

While he's not going to say it out loud, he probably would attack the thing, if given the opportunity.

The merrow didn't respond, just bored dark pools of black into Steve's soul. Steve silently pleaded back with his own eyes, just wanting to get out of this situation alive.

"Release me, I beg of you. I will cause you no trouble."

"I do not believe you, you will leave this place and call fleets of your men here to hunt me down." The merrow said panic evident in his voice now.

Steve's own panic subsided for a moment and he realized this creature did not seek to kill him for pleasure, but to avoid being killed itself.

Steve took a chance and lifted his hand to touch the pale arm that held the merrow aloft above him in a gesture he hoped conveyed comfort. He did so slowly, as not to startle, and gently so the merrow knew he had no intention to harm. The merrow eyed him wildly and with fear, but it allowed itself to be touched.

It's skin was cool to the touch and droplets fell from its skin as Steve wrapped his hand around its wiry forearm.

Steve tried to reach for his signature charm, the one his father swears he learned from him.

"I promise, I mean you no harm. I have no fleets of men. Half my fellows are so foolish they could not hunt down their own behinds" Steve said.

The merrow stared at him, eyes shifting about, looking him up and down for any hint of deception.

"I will not hurt or attack you, please just remove this device from my neck."

The Merrow seemed to steal it's resolve for a moment. then slowly the pressure was removed from Steve's neck. and the merrow slunk into water.

Steve sat up on the rocky shore. Without the creature's hair blocking out their surroundings, Steve saw he was in some sort of watery cave. Dark grey walls surrounded him as far as he could see, and a vast black lake stretched out in front of him. If only Steve could remember how he got here.

He looked back at the creature and saw the object that had been held to his neck was a jagged, broken shell that hadn't yet been worn smooth by the ocean. The merrow still held it nervously as it bobbed in the water at Steve's feet.

Even with half of it's body submerged, the merrow was nearly eye level with Steve. So either the water is shallow here, or the creature is of substantial size.

"Does this mean I'm free to leave?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook it's head. Black curls shaking out droplets of water with the motion.

"I cannot be sure that you won't return with weapons or more men" it said, "I searched your person while you were asleep, I took the dagger that hung around your middle, and the one on your leg."

How long had Steve been unconscious?

"Did you steal me away from my ship?" he had to ask.

The merrow looked offended at the suggestion.

"Steal you away? You intruded onto my home!" it said as it started rising out of the water. A jet black tail emerging slightly from the grey ocean.

Steve shrunk down and put his hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I have no memory of arriving here."

The merrow was taken aback at that and shrunk down into the water again.

"You don't remember?" it asked

Steve shook his head.

"You washed up onto my shore. No man has ever seen my shore before. Your treasures wash up here when your ships crash in the sea outside, but no man has ever washed up with them before." it said, clearly at unease with the idea.

Steves heart fell. Does this mean his ship crashed? Is he the lone survivor? he doesn't think he can take the thought of being left without the friends he's made on that vessel.

"Did- did anything else wash up with me?" Steve asked.

The merrow shook its head.

"There hasn't been a wreck near here in months."

Steve felt his spirit lift. That could mean his crew mates are alive and well!

But then how did he end up here? Steve tries to remember. His head aches something fierce.

"Why does your face look like that?" The merrow asked.

Rude.

"My head hurts"

The creature cocked its head to one side.

"You creatures are strange and delicate. Have you hurt yourself?"

"Hurt myself? I only just woke up! It's more likely you hurt me, than I hurt myself!"

Steve clutched his head in one hand and gestured at the creature with the other. He feels rather helpless in this situation.

"I did not hurt you! I removed you from the water. You creatures are not supposed to be in there!" The thing pointed towards Steve with its shell, as if illustrating what 'creatures' it was talking about.

"Well then, however I got to be there is how I hurt my head" Steve explained, aggravated by this easily excitable monster he's found himself with.

The creature frowned at him for a moment and then faster than anything it dove under the water. It's tail following behind it in a lithe arc like a sea serpent.

Perhaps it is a sea serpent. A strange shrill sea serpent with very soft skin.

Almost as fast as it left, the thing burst back out of the water.

Steve flinched away from the splash.

"Hold out your hand" the merrow demanded.

Steve held both his hands closer to his body.

"Why?"

The merrow lunged forward and grabbed one of Steve's hands.

Steve yelled, startled, his feet scrambled at the stones beneath him trying to get away from the shockingly strong and clamy hand that held his arm tight, but his leather soles slipped on the wet rock and Steve stayed put.

And then something slimy and oddly coarse fell into his palm.

The merrow shoved Steve's own hand towards his face.

It was seaweed.

"Wh-"

"Eat it."

Steve's eyes shot up to meet the merrow's.

"Raw?!"

"It helps me when my head hurts. It will help you."

Steve grimaced at the yellowish-brown pile in his hand.

"Is it medicinal in some way?"

"It is food."

"Ah."

The merrow starred at him expectingly.

Steve starred right back.

"I'm not going to eat this."

"Then your head will continue to ache."

"I don't think the lack of edible gunk is the cause of my headache, I believe it to be the same thing that's causing my amnesia" Steve said shaking the offending object out of his hand, "I must have hit my head when I was washing up on your shore."

"Like I said; you are strange delicate creatures," the merrow reached out his unoccupied hand towards Steve, "come into the water."

Steve leaned as far away as he could manage.

"So you can drown me?"

The Merrow rolled his eyes. It looked remarkably human in that instance.

"So I can heal you"

He doesn't know if it's delirium or blood loss, but Steve grabbed the pale hand in front of him and slid gently into the water.

The creature wrapped one arm around his waist and pulled him closer to it. Steve felt the scales of it's tale press against his thighs through his trousers as he was held aloft in the freezing water. His feet dangled and he couldn't feel a bottom to the lake, nor to the creatures tail.

The merrow threw the shell that was in it's other hand away somewhere and grabbed a handful of the black water. It brought it's hands up, dripping the water onto Steves head. The cold shock seemed to ease his pain. Steve closed his eyes at the relief.

He felt an even pressure on the top of his head. A tingling sensation washed over him, trickling from the point of pressure down his neck and over his shoulders. It sent Steve's body shivering.

He opened his eyes and was met by two dark eyes staring back at him. The merrow was less than an inch from his face. one of it's hands was firmly planted between his shoulder blades, and the other was atop his head emitting the magical sensation.

"You had a bump on your head."

"Had?"

"I rid you of it."

Steve felt the hand trail down from the top of his head through his hair- still wet from whatever circumstances lead him here- and down his shoulder.

He does not understand why a monster would heal him of a headache, but as he is held steady in its strong arms and feels it's breath against his lips he doesn't think it wise to ask too many questions.

"Thank you." He said.

The merrow let go of him, and Steve pulled himself back up onto the shore.

He heard a wet thunk beside him and turned to see the merrow had joined him on the rock. Its body was facing Steve and it's tail was splayed out in front of it bent at the midpoint as if the thing had knees.

It's tail alone was twice the length of Steve's entire body and it tapered along its length until exploding out into 2 wide tail fins that had the jagged edges of burned parchment.

Suddenly the creature unbent it's tail, laying it across Steve's body and curling the end slightly around his waist. it was surprisingly heavy and the large scales had the texture of smooth river stones against his abdomen.

Steve looked bewildered at the creatures face, who had the same fierce and angry look as when Steve first woke up.

"So you will not run away." it explained.

"how many times do I have to tell you, I will bring no harm to you, even if I escape."

"I cannot take that chance."

"How long will you keep me here then?"

The tail wrapped halfway around Steve's waist constricted slightly, almost causing him lose his balance. The creature beside him leaned in menacingly.

"You will stay here until I can be sure you can be trusted." it said.

"And when will that be, hmm? What could possibly convince you?" Steve asked.

The creature looked down at itself for a moment, seemingly thinking of a solution.

"I- I don't know. I will. I will know it when I know it."

"Oh! You will know it when you know it. Thats fantastic." Steve spat.

"Well you have done nothing to prove your trustworthiness to me thus far" The creature spat back.

"Exactly! I have done nothing! I have not attacked you, I have not tried to escape, I have made no attempts on your life. I have been a model captive! Whereas you, foul creature that you are, have threatened my life, stolen my belongings, and tried to feed me muck from the bottom of the ocean!" Steve had snapped, pushed to far by this infernal creature and it's damp dank lair "And now I find you have no plan for my release. You know, my mother used to tell me tales about you creatures, but she neglected to mention just how stupid you are!"

The creature just looked at him, dumbstruck by his outburst.

It uncurled it's tale from around Steve's waist and moved it back into the water. It slid it's body so it was sitting beside Steve, instead of facing him.

"What is your name?" the merrow asked.

"What?" Steve replied

"What is your name?"

"Is this some kind of trick?"

"No. You say you have been a model captive; I wish to be a model captor. What is your name?" it looked at him with pleading eyes.

Steve sighed and ran a hand over his face. What has his life come to?

"Steve, my name is Steve." He said.

"And you do not eat seaweed, Steve."

"I-" Steve groaned, "I eat seaweed, of course I do, I live on a ship. I just don't eat it raw and fresh from the bottom of a pit is all."

"So how do you eat it." The creature asked.

"You let it dry and cure, you boil it over a flame. Do you know what flame is?" Steve asked.

The creature rolled its eyes again.

"Yes, I know what flame is. If I build you one will you eat?"

Steve was taken aback. The monster is worried about him eating?

"I- yes, I suppose" Steve stammered, "do you also have a pot to boil water in?"

"A bucket washed up last month, will that do?"

"Why yes that will do greatly" Steve said.

The creature quickly disappeared into the water.

Steve sat back on his hands; confused and... oddly touched by the gesture.

Despite the creature's constant suspicion, Steve hadn't even considered just swimming out of here. Mainly due to the fact that he has no idea where he is, if there is land near here, where his ship is, or even how to find the opening to this cave in such dark conditions.

He is tired and befuddled, his wet clothing is sticking to his skin uncomfortably, he is chilled by the air and sore from the hard rock, and now that he thinks about it, he is near starving. So, he truly does appreciate the Merrow's offer to build him a fire.

The merrow reappeared holding a rusty bucket aloft the water's surface. It handed the bucket to Steve, who found dry wood, flint, and a knife at the bottom of it.

Steve smiled.

"Where did you find all this stuff?" he asked

"Treasures wash up here after shipwrecks, I told you that before," The merrow said pulling itself back onto the rock, "now would you like to build the fire yourself, or shall I?"

.....

Steve started the fire, closer to the cave wall than to the edge of the water, and set the bucket, now full of water, carefully in the middle of the flames. It will take awhile before the water boils, but that just gives Steve time to lay his clothes out to dry.

He rid himself of his trousers first, the wet denim was the greatest offender to his skin, and his white linen shirt came after it. He laid them both flat in front of the fire.

He looked around, the creature was still gathering food. He's grateful, he feels oddly modest about being in the nude in front of the merrow.

Steve was crouched down warming his hands in front of the flames when he heard a telltale splash from behind him. He covered himself with his hands and whipped around to see the merrow had returned with 2 handfuls of seaweed and a small fish caught in its mouth.

It looked Steve up and down from its place in the water and then released the fish from its jaws onto the rock.

"Your clothes are gone," it pointed out.

Steve gestured with his chin to where they lay in front of the fire.

"I'm drying them."

"Ah," it said lifting itself by the elbows up onto the shore, "come take this stuff from me, I can't get over to you, it's difficult to move across land in this form."

Steve walked over to the merrow and grabbed the fish and seaweed from it.

"You say in this form; do you have another?" he asked

The merrow eyed him oddly.

"I thought your mother told you of us?" it asked.

"Well, yes, but she also told me the men of your species have the faces of hogs. As you clearly do not look like a hog, I figured she may have gotten some things wrong."

The edges of the merrows mouth twitched upward. It- it's smiling!

"I have a legged form as well. I could get my cap and join you for dinner?" It said.

So, she was right about the caps too. At least Steve hasn't been paranoid about nothing.

"Thats not necessary." Steve said, though he must admit he was curious.

Steve walked back to the fire and dumped the fish and seaweed into the water that had started to form small bubbles. They still had a while to go.

Steve turned back to the merrow, who was sitting on the rock, splayed out, scales and all, like some kind of ancient stone carving. It looked up at Steve, waiting for him to say something. Steve felt the need to cover himself again, the gaze of this creature is just so insistent, but he thought the act would just draw more attention to the area. Instead, he decided to ask something that had been nagging at him.

"Do you have a name?"

The merrow was taken aback for a moment before it answered.

"I was called Edward once."

"Once?"

"I was banished by my people to this cave, I haven't been called anything since then." it said, eyes going sad for a moment before snapping out of it.

"Edward the Banished" Steve mumbled.

"I suppose," Edward said squirming uncomfortably.

Steve hadn't expected him to hear that.

"I left my home to follow a friend onto a pirate ship that I quickly found was made up of novices who had never seen the inside of a ship before."

Edward raised his eyebrows at that.

"I see. 'can't hunt down their own behinds' indeed."

Steve breathed out a small laugh.

"I wasn't lying."

"Hmm..." the creature's mouth flattened into a thin line once more.

It doesn't believe him, not entirely.

No matter! Steve is just glad that it calmed down enough to allow him food and freedom of movement.

When the food was finished cooking Steve brought the bucket over to where Edward was sitting, or laying... where Edward was beached.

It frowned at him.

"You are sharing with me?"

"You caught it for me," Steve said taking a bit of meat from the fish.

It was saltier than he prefers it, but at least it was food. Which reminds him.

"Did I still have my water when I arrived here?" he asks.

"The bladder you had around your belt?"

Steve nodded.

"Yes, I took it along with your knives, I thought it had potential as a weapon," The merrow said, gnawing on seaweed.

"How long was I unconscious?"

The merrow frowned at his food.

"I'm not sure. The sun was just starting to set when I found you by the mouth of the cave, and it was fully dark when you awoke."

That means it could be as little as 5- 10 minutes.

"Do you need me to bring you your water?" Edward asked still gnawing.

"I would like that yes, but where is it that you go to fetch these things."

Edward looked him in the eye, squinting to see any hint of devious intentions on his face. Steve is getting tired of the scrutiny.

"I'm not going to tell you where your knives are, but I will bring you your water." the creature said slithering away into the depths once again.

Steve sat there, bare as the day he was born, and wondered what it would take to get this thing to trust him enough to let him go.

When the merrow came back with his bladder of water Steve tried not to drink it all in one gulp. It was so refreshing, and he was so thirsty, but he doesn't know how long he will have to be here, so he needs to ration.

"I have decided how you will earn my trust." Edward said out of the blue.

Steve nearly spilt his drink in his excitement. He put his water down and wiped his chin.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You will tell me more about your ship, and I will go out in search of it to see if the stories you tell are true." it said tapping its tale against the stone it sat on in no particular rhythm. it looked nervous about this plan.

"You'll find my ship?" Steve asked, amazed at his own luck.

"You will come with me so I know where you are, and I'm not giving you back your weapons, and I will keep tight hold of you, and if I find your ship and it is not the novices you said it was, I will leave you stranded on a sand bar," it said sternly.

"Okay! what do you want to know first?" Steve asked leaning forward, excited to get the process started.

"Tomorrow, you will tell me about your ship tomorrow. Now it is time to sleep" it said and then swam away.

It is a strange and confusing creature.

Still, Steve curled up on his clothes in front of the fire and eagerly laid down his head to rest. He at last sees hope of escape, and he can't wait until tomorrow.

[princessbubblegumsstuff]

im gonna need to see ot8 with #11 smut 😇 - 🎐

Ot8- face sitting 

Requested- smut 11 

Genre(s): smut

Pairing(s): ot8 x femreader 

Warning(s): smut, explicit language, oral sex (f.receiving and m.receiving), face riding, face sitting, sex, kissing, breeding kink (?), cum eating, squirting

Words: 2,43k

prompt list (leave requests🩷)

Bangchan

After a difficult week at work, getting home late and leaving early, not seeing you much. He was so frustrated and stressed and filled with so much anger. He left the studio early, desperately needing a break. And even more desperate to see you. He basically jumped you the second his eyes landed on your figure, kissing you with so much lust and passion and hunger. Like he couldn’t last another second without feeling you. As if you were his air.

,,Wait-” you try to pull away to ask him if he’s okay, but all he does is pull off your tank top before he kisses you again. His tongue enters your mouth without no intention of leaving as he leads you to your bedroom. His hands can’t rest, roaming your body as they grope your tits and squeeze your hips. His lips move lower, licking all over your neck, biting to mark you as he groans almost like an animal. ,,Need you” 

He drops down to his knees and yanks off your shorts with your panties in one go. You wait for him to undress too but he doesn’t. Instead, he just gets on the bed and plops down in the middle, desperation written all over his face. ,,I need you to sit on my face. Come on, baby. Come here” he groans, pulling you in by your hands as he hurries you up his body. ,,A-are you sure, Channie?” you whisper and he answers with a slight bite to your thigh that makes you yelp. ,,Hurry” 

And then he pulls you flash onto his mouth, his tongue not wasting a second as it finds your clit and starts flicking it up and down fast. You moan, your back arching in ecstasy. Your sounds spur him on as he sucks on your little bundle of nerves harder, desperate to drink all of your wetness in. 

He continues devouring you until you cum all over his face and before you can come back to your senses, he has you bend over with your face in the sheets and pounds into you so roughly that you could cry… 

,,Such a good girl for me, baby. Take it, take it all. Can still taste your sweet pussy on my lips.” 

Minho

It started off with you teasing him about his oral skills. He was good at it and you both knew that, but you were just being a brat once again and wanted to see him riled up. And riled up he got. He hated when you lied and especially when you lied about his skills. It made him want to punish you. 

So that’s how you ended up sitting on his face with him taunting you. ,,You said I was bad at it so now you do the work and ride my tongue, come on.” You have been trying to make yourself cum for almost an hour, always getting close but then you couldn’t quite move since your legs were shaking, forcing you to stop and edge yourself once again. It was so frustrating, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes as you kept trying to make yourself cum. He would only laugh at you, teasingly licking your clit every time you failed. 

,,Please, Min. I can’t do it. Please, just do it for me. Please, you do it better” you beg, needy and face wet from tears. ,,Thought I wasn’t good at it?” he raises his eyebrows at you from below teasingly. You whine, wanting to get off him and sulk until he fucks you, when he suddenly wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you flash down onto his mouth. His tongue working immediately, licking thick long stripes and sucking on your clit just how you like it. 

You moan so loudly, it’s pornographic. You hear him scoff before he focuses on drawing little circles on your clit, trying his best to get you to cum. You gush out all over his face, covering from his nose to his chin in your essence and he happily licks it all up. 

Once you do finally cum, spent and exhausted as you try to get off him, he doesn’t let you. He only tightens his hold on you, licking your whole labia teasingly. ,,You begged me to eat you out. So now you’ll have to take it till I’m done, okay?” he smirks. ,,And that might just take a while since you taste so good.” he makes an obscene moan before he starts devouring you once again, making your whole body shake with overstimulation. 

,,Just one more, you can do it kitty. Be my good girl and give me just one more. Cum with me and I’ll fill you up so nicely, just how you like it.” he whispers into your ear once he finally gets his cock inside you. 

Changbin

It started with a joke. You were sitting on the couch as he whined about being hungry. You told him you were too lazy to cook so he could just eat you instead, giggling and not being serious. Changbin took it very seriously though. 

Soon after, he was lying on the couch and pulling your clothes off as fast as he could, pushing you towards his face. ,,Ready for my dinner, bunny. Come on, give me my dessert.” 

And eat he would. His tongue relentlessly flicking your sensitive clit before fucking into your wet hole as he swallowed everything you gave him. Sucking on your nub, trying to get all of your juices into his mouth. His thick muscled arms holding you down firmly on his face, not letting you move a single inch away. Making you cum once, twice and third time in the spam of 20 minutes before he pushes you off, lays you down under him and fucks into you with so much strength it makes your whole body flinch. 

,,My dumb bunny, just making a joke and then paying for it. Mhmm, pussy so good I could eat it all day” 

Hyunjin 

It would happen after sex, because he is a secret little freak in my opinion. After drilling into you for an hour straight, throwing you all over the bed as he thrusted deeper and deeper into your wet cunt, pulling your hair and spitting in your mouth, he filled your pussy up with his second load. Before you could even catch your breath, he laid down and pulled you on top of him. ,,Gonna clean my pretty girl up, yeah?” 

Those are his last words before he devours you completely, not letting a single drop go to waste as he abuses your cunt with his wet tongue. Sucking on your sensitive clit, licking all around your hole desperate for every single bit of your mixed cum. He enjoys the way your body shakes from the overwhelming pleasure, from the amount of orgasms he gave you already and he’s needy to give you even more, trying his best to get you over the edge as he gives it everything he has. His big hands squeeze your plump thighs as he loses his control and absolutely ravishes you. 

,,That’s it, pretty. Give it all to me, give it to me. Cum again for me, come on.” he’d moan right into you, coaxing another orgasm out of you as you cried and whined from the pleasure. 

Han

He would be so desperate for it. Eating you out was one of his favorite activities ever. He could do it anywhere and anytime. So persuading you into sitting on his face was his next goal. He brought it up suddenly. ,,Sit on my face.” looking at you with his wide eyes and a small teasing smirk. You were scared, turning him down many many times. He whined, begged and begged, reassuring you as much as he possibly could. 

One day he came from work and was feeling down. He came to the edge of the bed, laying down between your thighs. ,,I need you to sit on my face. Please, baby. I need it so much. It’ll make everything go away, make everything better. Please, please. Just once. You won’t hurt me, I swear. Even if I did die there, I’d be the happiest man on earth.” he whined, pouty lips and wide eyes as you played with his locks. 

Once you finally give in, he is so excited. Smile so big as he doesn’t waste a second and undresses you hurriedly before he lays back and beckons you to him. You are unsure, slowly moving to sit on his chest. He whines from underneath you, eyes firmly planted on your pussy as his mouth waters. ,,Sit, baby. Don’t hover, put your whole weight on me. Suffocate me with those thighs. I fucking need that, you have no idea how badly I want it.” he says before his arms push you right onto his inpatient mouth. 

He is so sloppy with it, spit and your wetness all over his face as he licks you. His tongue wondering from your ass up to your clit over and over again as he covers himself in your scent. He pushes his nose against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, needing the strongest taste of you as you overwhelm all of his senses. His nails dig into your thighs as he loses control and groans and whines right against your pussy. ,,Taste so fucking good, ah” he mumbles, completely out of it. You pull on his hair, hips moving on their own and he moans even louder when you grind on his face. 

He can’t force himself to stop and makes you cum at least five times before you yank him off. You are ready to attend to his cock when you see the wet spot on his pants. He looks at you innocently and shrugs. ,,I told you I needed it. It was so hot, baby. I need you on my face every day.” 

,,Pussy tastes so fucking good I could die. That’s it, use my face. Make yourself cum for me, use me baby” 

Felix

He was so sweet as he brought it up. He told you about his wet dream where you sat on his face and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. You agreed to try it even though you were scared and hesitant at first. He leaves kisses all over your body, praising you and reassuring you. ,,You’re so beautiful for me, y/n. Always so perfect. I want to please you and feel you completely.” he whispers as he lays down and waits for you to get on. 

You move slowly, unsure as you hover over his face. He plants a quick kiss on your clit before he giggles and moves you closer to his face, his surprisingly strong arms holding you down firmly. He starts off slow, licking all over you and easing you into it. Before he loses all of his control and absolutely devours you, munching on your wetness and making so many explicit sounds. You spam and shake and moan above him, fingers tangled in his long hair as your hips move on top of him. 

 He whines and groans. ,,Fucking hell, baby” mumbling in his deep voice as he makes you cum over and over again. Until his cock grows so hard he can’t take it anymore, causing him to flip you over and thrust his whole length into you in one go. 

,,You’re so wet, my love. I told you would like it too.” he chuckles as he fucks your brains out. ,,I’ve never been harder in my life. Need to do that again. Now just take all I give you, yeah?” 

Seungmin

Whilst you are sucking him off, deep throating his big cock and gagging around him, spit and drool falling everywhere, he can’t keep his eyes away from your bare ass. You are kneeling by his side, mouth full of him and ass up in the air, looking oh so delicious and inviting. He can’t help himself as he slaps your cheek before pulling you to him, grasping your thighs as he pulls you onto his face. You yelp, pulling off his length in surprise. ,,What- what are you doing?” you say in a shaky voice and he just pushes his hips up to your mouth and eats you out like a man starved. 

You find it hard to focus on sucking his cock as his tongue abuses your clit over and over again, licking your wetness out of you. You stroke him with shaky hands, tongue sloppily licking his slit as he tongue fucks you into oblivion. 

After making you cum four times, he decides he had enough and flips you over, pushing his spit covered cock into you and pounding you into another dimension. 

,,Such a dumb slut, pussy so sensitive she can’t even suck me off.” he groans into your ear as he presses your legs further into your chest. ,,Now you’ll let me use you as long as I want to, yeah? Be my good girl” he plants a kiss to your forehead. 

Jeongin 

He is drilling into you, holding your hips up as he fucks you from below. You whine, flinching and crying out as you feel another orgasm coming. Your pussy spams, pushing him out as you squirt with a loud moan. He smirks, pushing three fingers into you, curling them up and abuses your spot as he waits for more. He watches your pussy, notices your clit twitching and he feels an urge to taste it. 

He suddenly takes his fingers out and pulls you towards his face, sucking your clit into his mouth before he starts licking you clean. He licks off every last drop and your pussy just can’t stop streaming more. He is hungry for it, primal instincts driving his body as he devours you whole, pushing you more onto his face and fucking you on his tongue until you give him more and more of your delicious wetness. 

Once he’s done, he groans loudly and turns you around, pushing you onto all fours and thrusts into you again. You gasp, grasping the sheets before he pulls you up, flash against his chest and wraps a hand around your throat while the other one plays with your clit. 

,,Make another mess for me, just one more time and then I’ll fill you up, yeah? Come one, pretty.” he bites your neck and picks up his pace. ,,One last time. Cover me in your wetness, baby.” 

[grlsinterrupted]

hi can you do dally with Curtis sister reader (in between soda and pony's age) and their relationship is a secret because her brothers would lose their minds but Dal only has good intentions and is completely enamored by her. He sneaks into her room at night and the next morning when Darry goes to wake her up he flips out seeing Dallas Winston in his baby sister's bed and that causes Soda and pony to come in and freak out too

i’ll keep you my dirty little secret ✮⋆˙

secret relationship with dally | dallas winston x curtis ! reader ˚ 𖦹⋆｡˚

-

dallas winston, a name notorious even within his own gang. though your brothers were close friends with him, they never failed to remind you to stay cautious around him— god knows what he’d do to a girl like you. dallas has always been dubbed ‘the mean one’, ‘the dangerous one’, ‘the one that had nothing ahead of him.’ in the words of your younger brother, pony, ‘he had been arrested, he got drunk, he rode in rodeos, lied, cheated, rolled drunks, jumped small kids— he did everything.’

despite the number of people that warned you about dallas, there was something so irresistible about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. his subtle, yet flirtatious comments, were enough to turn you into a tomato-red mess. over the course of a few months, the two of you gradually spent more and more time together. from late night drives around tulsa to watching the sunrise— you name it, you and dallas have done it. if there’s one thing you’ve learned about him during your secret little dates, it’s that things are not always as they seem. dally isn’t as ‘rough’ as you thought he was, and it would be a lot harder explaining your relationship to your brothers than you thought it’d be.

the clouds outside your window are enveloping the night sky, twinkling stars peeking through the moonlight. despite how loud soda’s snoring gets, you’ve learned to tune it out by distracting yourself with a book. your nose is stuffed into little women, the book that dally recommended to you a few nights prior (and admittedly cried to while reading; his tear stains have literally seeped into the pages.) just as you were beginning to fall asleep, the sound knocking on your window startled you into wakefulness. who could be outside at this hour?

you pull your blanket off, scurrying around the room for something you can use for defense. after all those horror movies you’ve watched where the killer breaks into the victim’s house, you’d think you had at least some sort of knife or a pair of scissors you could use to protect yourself. but for now, that can of hairspray on your vanity will have to do— maybe you could spray your killer’s eyes and blind him?

as you make your way towards the window, the hairspray can in your hand, a familiarly gruff voice begins to utter something. “open up, doll! you’ve got me all romeo and juliet-ing right now!”

you let out a sigh of relief, sliding open the window. thank god it was just dallas, but what was he doing at your window while everyone else is asleep?

“you scared me, you know? i could’ve-“ you look down at your can of hairspray, then set it onto your window sill. “i could’ve sprayed you with that, and then your face would be stuck forever!”

“what, you don’t like my handsome face?” he smirks. it’s that stupid, cocky smirk that he always does, and he looks damn handsome doing it.

you roll your eyes at his remark, sliding the window back down. “just get in bed, you must be cold from standing out there.”

dallas’ eyes dart around your room, taking a moment to observe all of his surroundings. compared to all of the feminine aspects in your room, he sticks out like a sore thumb, practically drowning in a pool of lace and pearls. he then takes a seat on the edge of your bed, rubbing his hand along your floral sheets as he picks out a teddy bear from your collection of stuffed animals lined up against your bed.

“what’s with all these, uh.. stuffed animals?” he holds up your favorite out all the stuffed animals, ruffling the top of its head.

you take the teddy bear, putting it back in its original position. “i guess i never really got rid of them,” you shrug. “we need to get some sleep.”

“we?” he raises a brow.

you slide into your bed, lifting up the blanket for him. “yes, we. aren’t you tired?”

“i guess.” dallas slips into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you as he takes in your scent. though he’ll never admit it, he’s always loved the way you smelt like freshly baked cookies— it brings a soft of comfort to him that he never received. your scent reminds him of a warm bonfire, the sound of crackling overlapping with laughter. to him, you are the home he never had, the love he never knew existed in such a cold heart like his. you were his solace.

his hand moved up to your shoulder, gently running his fingers through your hair and twirling a strand. his touch was soothing against your skin, careful to not accidentally wake you. soon enough, both of you were asleep, safe and sound.

the next morning, you’re awoken by a loud, screeching noise, but much to your surprise, it isn’t your alarm. your eldest brother, darry, is furiously shaking you and dallas awake.

“Y/N, WHAT THE HELL IS DALLAS DOING IN YOUR BED?”

you groggily wipe your eyes, taking a glance at dally, then looking up at darry. “it’s 8 in the morning, and why do you care that he’s sleeping with me?!”

“i care because it’s dallas we’re talking about, god dammit! get him out of your bed!” darry flips over the blanket, shaking him awake.

the sound of darry’s yelling echoes throughout the house and eventually wakes up pony and soda. the two of them rush into your room, and as soon as they realize that dallas is beside you in your bed, their mouths are left agape.

“holy shit, y/n! you’ve been hanging around with dal this whole time?” soda huffs out a chuckle, too stunned to even be angry at you.

pony rubs his temples, shaking his head. “you guys are gross.”

dallas sits up, groaning and putting his hands up as if he’s surrendering. “okay, we were sleepin’ together, big deal!” he sighs. “just- look, darry, i ain’t mean to make you upset or whatever! ”

darry lets out a rough exhale, taking a step back from the two of you. he motions for pony and soda to leave with a death glare, then looks back at you as they’re making their way back to their room.

“you know what, i’m not dealing with this right now. we’ll sort everything out by the evening, got it?”

the two of you nod, exchanging satisfied grins. maybe by the evening, your brothers will come to their senses and realize that dallas isn’t really that ‘mean’ or ‘violent’ guy they perceive him to be, but someone with so much love in his heart that’s hidden underneath a façade.

’i’ll keep you my dirty little secret.. ’ .ᐟ ₊˚⊹♡

⊹ side note : i’m so sorry this took so long! it usually doesn’t take me more than a week to finish a fic, but i’ve had a lot to do and this fic is a bit lengthier than my others

-

[cloudyzeusy]

Miguel O'Hara being your best friend's dad and he's so down bad for you that he lets you fuck him anytime anywhere no matter what 🤤

Holiday ||

miguel o'hara x top reader

warning: best friends dad, not a fic really, I added a little spin on it

We all had gone to Spain - me, my best friend , her dad and my mom as my pick of a group holiday and it had given me the perfect excuse to bend my best friends dad over.

"Are you sure you don't wanna come with us to the pool." My mom said about to leave for the pool downstairs with my best friend behind her.

"We're sure." I smiled innocently while groping Miguel from behind letting him know what to expect. "Ye-Yeah." He agreed blushing.

As soon as I heard that door click shut I was on him slamming our lips together carrying him to the closest bed. But he disconnected our lips before we could go further looking nervous. "Your mom and Gwen could walk in."

"Then they walk in." I said bluntly pressing kisses to his next shimmying both our pants off. I pushed two fingers in his pink hole reveling in the way his body bended trying to get away from me. After I stretched him I grabbed the lube from our draw and put some on my cock pushing in his hole.

"Ah ah." He let out a strangled moan as I hit his prostate immediately as I pushed everything inside him. I turned him so we were in missionary making him look at who he was getting the pleasure from.

I started off with slow strokes making him roll his eyes at the pace but i was going to make him beg for it. "Come on [m/n] faster."

"Beg properly and maybe I will." I teased him going in and out.

"Please I need it so badly." He begged me pulling me towards him. I answered his wishes fucking him harshly as his cock leaked.

He looked away embarrassed hands covering his face as he moaned unabashedly. "Miguel move your hand and look down at your stomach. Look at how well you take me." I grinned he felt down at his stomach pressing the bump making me groan.

"Aren't you embarrassed mhm you love your daughter's best friends cock this much?" I said harshly watching his face flush in embarrassment but I could tell he loved it by his clench around my cock.

"Noo d-dont." He denyed making me laugh.

"Don't what? Maybe I should record this and send it to her letting her know her dad is a slut for someone younger than him ." I lied waiting for his reaction.

He teared up I couldn't tell if it was because of the pleasure or because of what I said. I jerked him off as I got closer to the edge. I came messily inside him and he came soon after.

As he shook from his orgasm I kissed his forehead as he laid there.

I sighed he was all mine..

[d0llcuries]

HIIII 🫶 i wanted to ask if i could request a neteyam x omatikaya readerrr where she’s caring for him while he’s healing from the bullet so it’s like just a bit after the war (bc in my head he didn’t die 😔😔😔) and she’s checking up on him making sure he’s okay distracting him from pain/the situation hopefully that makes some sense just some cute stuff like that hehe. (im delusional 💓)

THANKS BABE

KISS YOU BETTER

pairing(s): neteyam x fem!na'vi reader

summary: healing is a process. a slow, lonely and frightful one. you do what you can to be there for him, forever thankful to eywa that he still has breath in his lungs.

author's note: i am the world's fattest dillydallyer, i fear. bear with me folks please and thankss!!

neteyam’s chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, his skin too warm under your palm where his heartbeat drums, faint, beneath layers of gauze and healing paste. the evening light, watery and red through the fibers of the marui pod, filters down over him, casting a glow that makes his blue skin look brighter.

a faint lustre of sweat lies at his temples. you can’t tell if it is the heat or the strain of healing that makes him look fragile, but it is unsettling. it feels like months have passed since that day. the bullet. the blood. the scream that ripped from your throat like you could tear the world in half with it.

he's been in and out of it for days. sometimes, he wakes with a shudder, his fingers twitching as if he’s reaching for his knife or his bow or something to hold onto before his muscles relax and he lays dormant once again. you wonder, not for the first time, what he dreams of now. if he’s still out there, somewhere between life and death, between the stars and the ground, or if he’s here, with you, feeling the soft pressure of your fingers on his skin, the warmth of your breath on his neck. you wonder if he feels the way your hands shake, if he knows how scared you are, even though you don’t say it.

“yawne,” he murmurs, voice raspy, cracking around the edges. it’s the only word he seems to have the strength for lately. my love. you could hear it a thousand times, and still, it would twist your insides in knots, the feeling churning beneath your ribs like roots digging into soil that’s too dry to give way. he says it like it is his only bind to the world.

the air inside the tent is sticky, thick, a little too sweet with the musk of old herbs and the iron tang of blood. you can taste it on your tongue as you breathe, cloying, like when you bite too hard into a mango and the juice drips down your chin, half-spoiled, but still too good to stop. the world is settling outside the night drawing in like a slow breath and inside, the hush of it, the weight of it, sinks into your skin, pools behind your eyes, heavy and aching.

his lashes cast long shadows across his cheeks, his lips chapped and parted as he pulls in uneven breaths. you move carefully, your hands trembling just a little as they skim over his ribs, up to his face, cradling his jaw in your palms. he feels fragile. your body aches in ways you can’t describe, the knots in your muscles from sleeping beside him, always curled up in awkward positions, always watchful. your knees are sore from kneeling too long, your neck stiff from leaning against the wooden posts of the tent. but all that discomfort it feels so small, so inconsequential, in the face of his suffering.

you stroke his hair back, letting the braids slip through your fingers one by one. the roots are damp, curls matted against his scalp. you hum a little under your breath, some half-forgotten melody your mother used to sing when you were small, when the days felt longer and the nights less lonely. the sound barely reaches your ears, swallowed by the thick air, but neteyam stirs, just a fraction, his lips twitching like he's trying to smile, trying to remember how.

dried blood like rust staining the fresh bandages you’ve wrapped around him. your hands know the routine now. the careful unraveling of cloth, the soft hiss of his breath when the cool air touches the wound, the gentle pat of the herbs pressed to his skin. you move like you’re in a trance, like this is a dream, and maybe it is. maybe none of this is real.

you press another kiss to his lips this time, barely more than a whisper of touch, but it feels like a promise. i’m here. i’m staying.

you trace the lines of his collarbone, the curve of his jaw, your touch light, as if you’re afraid he’ll shatter under your hands. you won’t leave me, you think, pressing your lips to the hollow of his throat, you can’t.

you kiss him again, soft, featherlight kisses that brush his skin like a promise, like a prayer. and with each one, you hope—this one will heal him. this one will be enough. but hope is like the wind, you think. it slips through your fingers no matter how tightly you hold on.

so you lie there, listening to the sound of his breathing, the faint rustle of the tent, the hum of the forest, and you wonder how many more kisses it will take before he’s whole again.

his presence is a tether, thin as it may be, binding you here. holding you together, even though the world outside feels as though it has unraveled completely. you sit beside him, legs curled under you, skin tingling with exhaustion. your bones feel like they might fold in on themselves, but none of that matters. wake up.

a sound escapes him. his lips move—just the faintest twitch, but it is something. he is here.

“neteyam,” you whisper. saying his name and it aches to let it out.

his lips part, a dry rasp of breath slipping through, and you reach for the gourd beside you, lifting it to his mouth. the water pools in the curve of his lips, slow and steady.

“drink,” you murmur, your voice catching on the word.

he drinks, the water moving down his throat in quiet gulps, each one easing the tightness there, smoothing the lines of strain from his face. you watch the way his throat moves, the tension softening just a little. when he is done, you lower the gourd, your thumb brushing against his lips, catching the drops that linger there.

your breath catches in your throat as neteyam’s eyes flutter open, the softest sliver of gold peeking through the lashes you have been watching so closely, day after day. your heart leaps before you can even stop it, a wild, untamed thing in your chest, and you do not know whether to laugh, cry, or scream. your hands hover above him, trembling with the need to touch him, to pull him into you, but you stop yourself, knowing how fragile he still is. every fiber of your being is vibrating with joy, your body a live wire of emotions, but you hold yourself back, afraid of overwhelming him, of hurting him.

“nete!” you breathe, the word coming out as half-laughter, half-sob, and you are trembling with the effort it takes not to throw yourself into his arms. your fingers brush his cheek, feather-light, as if he might disappear if you press too hard. the ache in your chest is too much, too bright, and all you can do is smile down at him, wide and breathless, blinking back the tears that blur your vision. he is here, really here, and you do not know how to contain it, how to quiet the storm of happiness that surges through you. you lean down, your forehead just barely touching his, and whisper, “you are awake!” your voice shaking with the weight of all the things you cannot say, all the joy you cannot express without breaking apart.

“you should be resting,” he says, and the sound of it makes your breath catch again. you have heard this voice so many times, but now it feels new, fragile.

you let out a soft laugh, half surprise, half relief, your fingers drifting through his hair, catching the strands that have come loose from his braids. “so should you,” you whisper, feeling the way his body hums beneath your touch, the way his presence pulls you in like the tide, slow and unrelenting.

he makes a small sound, something between a sigh and a hum, and it vibrates through your bones, quiet and deep. his hand tightens on yours, just a little, but enough. enough to remind you that he is here, that you are tethered to him still.

“i missed you,” you say, the words slipping out before you can stop them, too heavy with meaning. it is not just the missing of these last few days, these long, aching hours. it is the missing of something bigger, something that stretches across time. something that you cannot name.

he hums again, and you feel it in the space between your ribs, that soft agreement. you missed him too, even though you were never really gone. his breathing slows, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there is peace on his face.

“you are going to get better,” you whisper, as if saying it out loud might make it true. as if the words might stitch him back together, might pull him from the edge of whatever dark place he has been hovering near. you press your lips to his brow, kissing the smooth skin there, untouched by the pain that has tried to claim him.

another kiss, this one softer, to the tip of his nose, then his jaw, your lips trailing down to the place where his pulse beats steadily beneath the surface of his skin. he is still here.

you press your mouth to that spot, feeling the rhythm of his life under your lips, and you think, “you know,” you murmur against his skin, “if kissing you could heal you faster, you would be running by now.”

his chest moves with a low sound, something between a chuckle and a breath, and it fills the space between you like music. it makes you smile, makes your heart stutter and swell, and you nuzzle into him, your face pressed against the warmth of his neck, your hand splayed over his chest, trying to anchor yourself in this moment.

“you are doing a good job, then,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but it is full of something light, something playful.

your heart leaps at the sound, and you lift your head to look at him, to see the faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. his eyes are still closed, but there is life in him now, a flicker of the boy you know—the boy who makes you laugh, the one who makes you feel like the world is not such a terrible place after all.

“then i will keep doing it,” you say, pressing another kiss to his cheek, your smile wide and soft, full of too much feeling.

“do not stop,” he murmurs, and it is almost playful, almost light, and you can feel your heart swelling again, pushing against your chest like it might burst.

you press your forehead to his, your body melting into his warmth, and the world outside feels so far away now, like it cannot reach you here.

“i will not,” you promise, the words slipping from your lips like a vow, like something sacred.

the silence returns, but it is full now, heavy with the weight of everything you have not said, everything you do not need to say. his breathing steadies, slow and rhythmic, and your body sinks into his, your exhaustion finally easing, replaced by something softer. something that feels like peace.

and in this quiet, in this small, fragile moment, you feel it—the hope that has been hiding in the corners of your heart. you feel it blooming, slow and tentative, but there, growing in the space between you.

because he is still here. and you are still here. and that, somehow, is enough.

the sun was unforgiving, but you dug your fingers into the sand anyway, letting it gather beneath your nails, small grains cool against the heat that pressed down on your skin. the ocean sang before you, waves rolling softly toward the shore, brushing against your toes before retreating, almost shy in their touch. you tilted your face up toward the sky, letting the light cascade over you, trying to soak in its warmth, trying to let it chase away the heavy ache in your chest.

you didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but it didn’t matter. you came here often now, to this spot just beyond the village, where you could hear the water breathing, feel the sand shift beneath you, and pretend, for a moment, that everything was right. you dug your fingers in deeper, the sensation grounding you, pulling you back from the thoughts that threatened to drag you under.

neteyam was healing. slowly, carefully, but the wounds were still fresh, the memory of his blood staining your hands still too sharp. there were nights you woke with that same metallic scent in your nose, the image of him falling, so still and quiet, burned behind your eyelids. even now, as the sun beat down on you, your mind circled back to it—over and over.

you curled your fingers into fists, the sand slipping through them, leaving nothing but the feel of it sticking to your palms. you hated this. this waiting, this stillness. but you hated it more for him. neteyam wasn’t made to lie still. he was built for movement, for the hunt, for the wild freedom of the forest and sky. now, he was trapped. and in a way, so were you.

your eyes flickered toward the horizon, where the sea stretched out in endless blue. there was a celebration tonight—the metkayina’s way of welcoming a new season. you remembered the last one, how the village had come alive, vibrant and wild. you’d danced with neteyam then, under the stars, laughing as the ocean crashed around your feet. everything had felt light, easy. before.

now, the thought of going felt… wrong. how could you join in their joy when so much of yours was tethered to him, back in that marui, lying still and quiet? how could you celebrate without him by your side?

you pushed yourself up slowly, your body resisting the movement, as if it too was reluctant to leave this spot. you wiped the sand from your hands, shaking your head at your own thoughts. no neteyam, no joy. it was simple, really. without him, nothing felt complete.

the marui was bathed in soft light when you returned, the warm glow of the afternoon filtering in through the slats. it was quieter now, the village settling into the rhythm of evening. inside, neteyam lay where you left him, though his eyes fluttered open as you stepped closer. kiri and tuk were still there, but kiri shot you a small, tired smile, relief evident in the way her shoulders sagged.

“thank you,” she murmured, barely audible, as she stood, tugging tuk up gently. tuk looked up at you, her eyes bright as she offered a tiny smile, her fingers brushing your leg as she passed by. “he’s all yours.”

you nodded, giving her a grateful look before she slipped out of the marui, tuk trailing behind her, the sound of their soft footsteps disappearing into the distance. and then there was only the quiet. the kind of quiet that settled easily between you and neteyam, comfortable, familiar, as if it had always been this way.

you knelt beside him, your eyes tracing the lines of his face, studying the way the light played over his skin. his breathing was slow, steady, and for a moment, all you could do was watch the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers twitched slightly as if he was reaching for something just out of grasp.

“they are gone?” his voice broke the silence, soft and low, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“they are gone,” you confirmed, your hand instinctively reaching for his cheek, fingers brushing over the warmth of his skin. it was a simple touch, one you found yourself craving more and more, needing the reassurance of his presence, of his life beneath your fingertips.

he leaned into your touch, his smile widening just a fraction, though it didn’t quite chase away the exhaustion that lingered in his eyes. “good.”

for a moment, you just sat there, letting the quiet stretch between you, not needing to fill it with words. you had said everything already, in the days following his injury, in the long hours spent by his side, watching over him while he healed. the words weren’t important. this was. being here. being with him.

the soft hum of the village outside broke the stillness, the faint sounds of preparation for the celebration beginning to drift into the marui. laughter echoed from somewhere far off, the rhythm of drums picking up in the distance, the promise of festivity hanging in the air. but you didn’t care for it, not tonight. not when neteyam was still here, still recovering. the idea of leaving him behind, of being anywhere without him, felt impossible.

“the festival,” he murmured suddenly, his voice pulling you from your thoughts. his eyes opened fully now, locking onto yours with a quiet intensity. “you should go.”

your brow furrowed in confusion, tilting your head slightly as you searched his face. “why?”

“because you should,” he replied, as though the answer was obvious, his gaze flickering with something you couldn’t quite name. “you have not been out… you have not done anything in forever.”

“i do not need to,” you said simply, shrugging as though the thought had never occurred to you. because it hadn’t.

he shifted slightly, discomfort flashing briefly across his face, though he hid it well. “you should nkt miss out because of me. it is not fair.”

you blinked, the frustration flaring just beneath the surface. how could he think that? how could he even suggest that any of this was his fault, or that you were missing out on anything at all? he was here. and that was enough.

“neteyam,” you began softly, your fingers brushing over the curve of his cheekbone, trying to soothe the tension you saw building there. “i have fun wherever you are. it does not matter what is happening outside.”

his frown deepened, like he didn’t quite believe you, like he was still carrying the weight of guilt for everything that had happened—for being hurt, for making you stay. but you didn’t press him further. you knew he needed time to understand. you weren’t missing anything. the world could celebrate all it wanted outside; you’d remain here, tethered to him, with him.

the rest of the day unfolded in small moments. the kind that didn’t need words to fill them. you stayed by his side, sometimes talking, other times letting the soft sounds of the village drift in from outside, the lull of the ocean a constant, gentle presence. he watched you in those quiet moments, his eyes following you as you moved around the marui, his gaze lingering as though he needed the reassurance that you were still there, still with him.

the sun was low in the sky now, casting everything in hues of gold and pink. the sounds of the festival had grown louder, laughter mingling with the rhythmic beat of drums, the clinking of shells as decorations were strung along the walkways. the energy outside was palpable, the village alive with celebration, but inside your marui, the quiet remained.

neteyam shifted again, his body protesting the movement, though he masked the discomfort as best he could. his eyes flickered toward the entrance of the marui, the faintest trace of music filtering through the air.

he turned back to you, his gaze more focused this time, more determined. “go get something to eat.”

you blinked, your brows knitting together as you stared at him. “what?”

“food,” he repeated, his tone light but insistent. “from the festival. go grab some.”

narrowing your eyes, you studied his face. he hadn’t let you out of his sight for more than a few minutes in the past days, and now he was practically urging you to leave. “what are you planning?”

“nothing,” he replied. “i am hungry. go. please?”

your lips pressed into a thin line, clearly unconvinced, but you rose to your feet anyway, giving him one last look before slipping out of the marui. the air outside was cooler now, the night settling in around you, and you could feel the pulse of the village as you made your way toward the center, where the celebration was in full swing. your mind already drifted back to neteyam, wondering what he was up to, why he was so adamant about sending you away. it wasn’t like him. not now, not when he needed you.

the food spread along the long, low tables is almost too much to look at, piles of bright fruits and roasted fish, grains and herbs twisted into fragrant shapes, everything vibrant and rich, as though the night itself has bloomed into this feast. your fingers brush over the cool surface of a carved bowl, feeling the delicate grooves, the weight of the work that went into every small detail. you carefully fill your basket, trying not to disturb too much of the display, slipping a few extra pieces of fruit between the flatbread and smoked meats, thinking of tuk’s bright eyes when she sees what you have brought back. the thought brings a smile to your lips, but it is fleeting, tempered by the pull of responsibility that sits low in your stomach. neteyam is still weak, and you know he will not eat unless you bring him something.

“you are not staying?” tsireya’s voice is soft but lilting, a note of surprise carried by the night air as she steps toward you, her hair catching in the lantern light, strands of it glowing like spun copper. her eyes are wide and kind, her arms laden with shells strung together on thin threads, swaying with the easy grace of the ocean. she leans in, “you are always leaving so quickly. you should enjoy yourself tonight.”

you smile at her, tucking the basket closer to your side. “i wish i could,” you say, and it is the truth, though it feels like a half-formed thing on your tongue, like something left out in the sun too long. even as you speak, you feel the quiet distance between you and the festival, like you are watching it all from the other side of a glass wall. tsireya’s face softens, a flicker of understanding passing through her eyes, but before she can say anything else, tuk comes bounding up, her small hands tugging at the hem of your skirt, her face lit up with excitement.

“you have to stay for the dancing!” tuk’s voice is bright, her breath coming quick from her running. she looks up at you with such earnestness that it tugs at something in your chest, the way only a child can, her wide eyes reflecting the shimmering lights around you like she is holding the stars themselves. tsireya gives you a look, one that is all gentle encouragement, a soft nudge in the direction of the night’s festivities, and for a moment, just a moment, you consider it. staying. letting the music and laughter carry you for just a little while, letting the world slip away for a few hours. but then the weight of the basket shifts in your hands again, grounding you back to reality, and you know you cannot. not tonight.

“another time,” you say, your voice softer now, tinged with a quiet apology you hope they will understand. you brush a hand over tuk's cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. “i promise.”

you returned as quickly as you could, stepping back into the marui with the scent of roasted fish and fruit clinging to the air. but the moment you walked inside, the food forgotten in your hands, you froze.

neteyam was standing.

his body was trembling slightly, one hand gripping the wall for support, but he was standing, his eyes bright with determination, his grin wide and boyish as he watched your stunned reaction.

“neteyam,” you whispered, barely able to speak, the shock freezing you in place. “what are you doing?”

“we are dancing,” he said simply, his voice soft but firm, as though this was the most natural thing in the world. as though this wasn’t a miracle.

you shook your head, taking a hesitant step forward, torn between wanting to scold him for pushing himself too far and being so overwhelmed with love for him you thought you might burst. “you should not be standing. you—”

but before you could finish, he reached for you, his hand catching yours gently, pulling you closer. “come on. just for a while.”

the music from the festival floated through the air, the soft, distant beat of the drums like a heartbeat, slow and steady. you let him guide you, your hands finding their way to his waist, careful not to press too hard, not to disturb the bandages still wrapped around his middle.

he moved slowly, his steps tentative but deliberate, and you moved with him, letting the rhythm carry you both, swaying gently in the small space of the marui. his breath was warm against your skin, his forehead resting against yours as you danced together, the world outside falling away.

“this is all i need,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. “just you.”

you pressed your face into his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him, the warmth of his skin against yours. your heart swelled in your chest, the love you felt for him spilling over, too big to contain.

“you are all i need too,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion, your arms tightening around him.

and as the faint music played on, you stayed there, swaying together in the dim light of the marui, the world outside forgotten, everything you needed right here, in this moment, in each other.

[luveline]

Could we please get vampire Sirius? Like maybe he originally lured reader in to drink from her but was just totally enamoured by her because she isn’t scared of him? Love you xx

love you!!

“Do you often accompany strange men to cemeteries?”

You pick a little piece of lint from your sleeve and move on through the gravestones, “Only ones in need. Padfoot! Come here, boy.”

Sirius feels bad for lying to you about his dog that he doesn’t have, but he’s hungry. It’s like blaming a cat for killing a mouse. Nature is nature is nature, and you’re pretty enough to make feeding from you a thrill and a half. He can’t believe you’d been this potent a fool as to believe his lie in the first place — the moon is heavy as a silver medallion in the sky, light like silk pouring over the cemetery, but it is still a cemetery, and you are still alone with him, a strange man you barely know. 

“You should call him more, he’ll recognise your voice,” you suggest, turning to him with a very nice smile, as smiles go. This is the part where he jumps on you and holds you down. But you’re smiling, not a hint of suspicion about you. “You really don’t know what breed he is?”

“He looks like a mixture of every dog on earth.”

“A creature, then. Nice.” You wait for him to catch up with you before you point to a darkened area of the cemetery. Maroon pitch stains the floor, evidence of past misdemeanours. “Ooh, gross. That looks like blood. How many people do you think get murdered in places like this?”

“Definitely a few.”

“Is there even really a dog?” you ask. 

Sirius takes your hand into his. Your hands are almost as cold as he is, your fingers stiff with frigidity. He doesn’t bother trying to warm them, impossible, but he does attempt a seduction of sorts. He likes when his victims are scared; it gets the blood pumping quickly, and it tastes different. Not sweeter or anything so fanciful, but different. You aren’t easily scared, it seems, so he brings your hand to his lips instead for a kiss pressed against delicate knuckles. 

“Why wouldn’t there be a dog?” he asks. 

“There are other ways to get someone alone, you know?”

“Like what?”

“Like flirting,” you say, your shoulders relaxing as he continues his touching, his fingers dancing up the length of your arm and netting behind your shoulder to pull you in. 

“There’s a dog,” he lies, he promises, staring into the innocent pools of your eyes as hunger burns with the ferocity of tears in his throat. “Why? You thought I wanted to be alone with you?”

He leans in, forcing you to close your eyes as he closes his. “You don't?” you ask. 

His gums sting as the razor tip of his fangs slide over his canines, sharp and thing. There’s no room for words now, only action. He kisses you softly, because if he’s going to kill you he thinks he can manage a kinder goodbye, your glossy lips parting at the pressure of his wading. He opens his mouth and yours opens with it, a gasp rushing between you as you feel the sharpness of his fangs and pull away. 

“Ow,” you say, frowning, “you vampires are all the same.”

“We— what?”

“You have no sense of sweetness about you. If you kissed me nicely at first I wouldn’t mind letting you feed on me." You scowl, pressing your pinky to your bloody lip, dissatisfied. 

"You want me to kiss you nicely?" Sirius asks. 

"I thought so, yes." You turn away from him. "Not very much anymore." 

For some reason, the idea that he could overpower you flees his mind. "Now, wait a minute, darling. I'll kiss you very nicely." 

"Sure you will. My lip is bleeding, I know exactly what you're like." 

"Nuh-uh." Something about your lack of fear —he's shocked, but it's hot. Really, really attractive. "Sweetheart, I've been kissing people for longer than you've been alive." 

"Ew." You giggle at him, your reluctance fading. "Okay, fine. But no biting, okay? You can bite me afterwards." 

Sirius grins and pulls you forward, barely caring about the implication of afterwards as you melt into the circle of his arms and kiss him with an ardency he hasn't felt for a few decades, at least. You shiver at his cold hand where it disappears under your shirt, but you smile into his mouth rather than shriek. (He's in love, probably.)