#THANK YOU MO FOR THE PROMPT!!!!

[kanos]

[thedeadthree]

-ˋˏ .·:·. ⊱ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐈𝐋𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐛𝐲 @pavus — day one: 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

— 𝐈𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐑 . 𝐕𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐃𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀 . 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄.

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐒. 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐒.

— 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (mutuals can opt in/out via 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 <3):

@loriane-elmuerto, @carrionsflower, @auricfog, @girliefailure, @sunsofdawn

@risingsh0t, @griffin-wood, @lilywatt, @full---ofstarlight, @grapecaseschoices

@tommyarashikage, @shadowsofrose, @shadowglens, @weisshaupts, @queennymeria

@deadrlngers, @d-esmond, @courtana, @gothimp, @wlwaerith

@unholymilf, @aezyrraeshh, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @shellibisshe, @florbelles

@celticwoman, @neonshrike, @cloudofbutterflies92, @adelaidedrubman, @carlosoliveiraa

@pinkfey, @spookyrares, @yharnams, @aceghosts, @confidentandgood

@theelderhazelnut, @leviiackrman, @ellierenae, @anoras, @lavampira

@dialdrunk, @full---ofstarlight, @imogenkol

[stiltonbasket]

hi!! since you’re the nielan master, could you do nielan in one of your universes where they end up happy? thank you <3

"Diedie?" a tiny voice whispers in Nie Mingjue's ear. "Diedie, wake up."

Nie Mingjue is still half-asleep, his consciousness lost in the strange, sweet twilight between waking and dreams where he knows and remembers nothing save for his husband's warm weight in his arms—but in spite of the early hour, the sound of his son's piping voice rouses him at once.

When he opens his eyes, he finds Jingyi's round face hovering an inch above his own, aglow with a grin that reminds Nie Mingjue so much of a young Xichen that he nearly forgets to breathe.

"A-Yi?" he yawns, through a mouthful of Lan Huan's sleep-rumpled hair. "What are you doing here, baobao? Did you have a bad dream?"

"I don't have nightmares anymore. I'm not a baby," Jingyi protests. "And A-Die, you were supposed to get up at mao shi to make Ba's birthday breakfast! It's already past chen shi now."

Nie Mingjue reaches up to stroke Jingyi's chubby cheek. "Then I'll get up now, A-Yi. But you ought to go back to bed, because little buns like you should still be asleep at chen shi."

"But Ba's going to wake up before you're done cooking breakfast, so—"

"Your Ba is tired," Nie Mingjue chides, sliding out from under his husband's arm. "He might not want to get up until noon, so we still have time to make breakfast."

"I guess," A-Yi says doubtfully, crawling up to sit on the pillows beside Xichen's head. "But meimei might wake him up early, so I'll stay here and keep watch while you cook."

Mingjue laughs and kisses the top of his son's head before making his way to the kitchen. His heart sings at every step, though this is now hardly worth noting—for that heart has not stopped aching with happiness since the day he and Xichen declared their love for one another, some seven months after their wedding; and its song has only grown sweeter in the passing years, beautified and strengthened by every moment he spends with his husband and children.

He goes to the pantry in the kitchen for rice flour and eggs, and then to the garden for scallions. Nie Mingjue will have to make a simple breakfast today, since Wangji and Wei Wuxian claimed the privilege of arranging a birthday lunch for their entire extended family: and he has little time besides, so he mixes dough for scallion pancakes and prepares three oiled bowls for steamed eggs by the time Jueying begins to fuss in the bedroom.

"Yingying, don't jump!" Nie Mingjue hears Jingyi yelp. "You can't even walk yet."

At that, Nie Mingjue drops his pancake dough and runs out into the receiving room, where he finds baby Jueying crawling toward him on all fours with Xichen's forehead ribbon trailing behind her. Somehow, she had managed to make her way out of the bedroom alone.

"That's my strong Ying-bao," Nie Mingjue says, laughing at the resounding slap of Jueying's tiny fists striking the floorboards. "Should A-Die pick you up now?"

The baby shakes her head and crawls right past him into the kitchen, where she takes refuge under the table with one of Wangji's pet cats.

"Bu," she crows, delighted by the sound of her own voice. No was Jueying's first word, closely followed by Ba, for Xichen and Mingjue both; and since Yingying has rarely left her parents' sight, no is still her favorite thing to say.

Strange though it might be, Mingjue adores his daughter the most in moments like these, where she furrows her small brows and refuses to listen to her well-meaning elders; for it is then that he remembers that he and Xichen brought two tiny people into the world, with precious little minds and spirits of their own. Jingyi's mishaps and misadventures, Jueying's stubbornness, their shared passion for baked sweets and dislike of anything flavored with lemon—all of it came from the love that shaped Mingjue's very life, from the day he first laid eyes on Lan Xichen twenty-six years ago.

If it were any other day, Nie Mingjue would have abandoned his preparations for breakfast and returned to his husband's side, unable to keep away from him any longer; but Jueying has already fixed her beady eyes on the heap of chopped scallions, so Mingjue rushes over to placate her with a biscuit before cooking the eggs and fried pancakes.

"You can't eat these before they're cooked through," he tells her, watching the baby nibbling away at her biscuit in the safety of Xiaolongbao's wicker basket. "They might make you ill, baobao. But after your first birthday, you can eat anything you like."

"You musn't say that, A-Jue," a soft voice laughs from the doorway. "Ying-bao might take you at your word, and then where will we be?"

Nie Mingjue's poor, ever-hungering heart crowds up into his throat.

"Xichen," he breathes, holding out his arms as his husband comes running to meet him. "What are you doing up, sweetheart? I thought you would sleep for another hour."

"Without you in the bed beside me, Mingjue-xiong? I've been awake since chen hour," Lan Xichen smiles, leaning up to kiss him. "I would have liked to sleep a little longer, but I missed you, so here I am."

He kisses the tip of Mingjue's nose, and then:

"And Yingying crawled away with my mo'e," he says, perplexed. "Where is she, my love? Wasn't she with you just now?"

A high-pitched squeal rings out from beneath the table. "There she is," Nie Mingjue says fondly, as Lan Xichen drops to his knees on the floor and gathers Yingying into his arms. "We ought to feed her soon, or she'll try to eat Xiaolongbao's fur again."

With Xichen's help, the last preparations for their meal are completed in quick succession; and before long, all four of them are sitting around the table instead of underneath it. Jueying sits in Lan Xichen's lap, chewing bits of scallion pancake into pulp between mouthfuls of soft steamed egg; and Jingyi takes the little chair between his parents, so that he can lean against Nie Mingjue's shoulder while he eats.

For his part, Nie Mingjue sits with his arm about Lan Xichen's waist, and tries not to weep at the sight of his husband and children eating the breakfast he had made for them.

Surely such happiness is too dear for mortal men to know, he thinks dizzily. Just six years ago, a life with A-Huan and the little ones would have been beyond my wildest dreams, and yet—

Where was I six years ago? Nie Mingjue wonders. He and Xichen were twenty-five and twenty-three when the war broke out, and each of them had celebrated a birthday in the midst of the Sunshot Campaign; but neither occasion brought them any joy, for the beginning of another year of life in such straits could not help but remind them that they might not endure long enough to see the end of it.

Nie Mingjue had nearly died at the Nightless City, and if not for Xichen's skill in healing, he would have been stricken down by a qi deviation in the days after the last battle.

That would have been all right, Nie Mingjue reflects. He knows Lan Xichen's mind and heart as well as he knows his own; for Lan Xichen by far the stronger of the two of them, and he would not have succumbed to grief if Mingjue had left him that day.

"Perhaps not," Lan Xichen says now, reaching backward to hold Nie Mingjue's hand. "What you said when Jingyi was born—that is, what you said you would do, when you thought the worst was coming—I would not turn to such a course, but if I lost you—"

His grasp upon Mingjue's wrist grows tighter. "There would be no joy in this world for me from that day forth, though I would never seek to depart from this life before my time," he says at last. "You must know that, Mingjue-xiong. You must."

Nie Mingjue presses his lips to his husband's forehead.

"I know," he says thickly. "I know, my A-Huan. Happy birthday."

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Stretching out

@ninjakk

🧘🏻🍑🧋 Yoga, peach (which is entirely up to you 😉) & boba

I had way too much fun writing this one and you can tell.

Lan Wangji feels like the first five minutes of a porno. Not that he watches those. He just knows how the scenarios go. For science. He doesn't use them as inspiration for his fantasies at all. Shut up.

Anyway, he feels like the first five minutes of a porno and he doesn't know if he should be grateful to the heavens or scandalized that he's being tested like this.

He has been brought up in the spirit of discipline and self control, a master of his body and its animalistic impulses. ...And then his roommate and long time undisclosed crush, Wei Ying, has decided to take up at-home yoga and all that's gone to the very last circle of hell.

Lan Wangji is pretty sure he's going to die. He has to, otherwise he doesn't know how long he'll survive pretending like he doesn't see Wei Ying's tempting figure in those incredibly tight yoga pants he's taken to wearing.

Whoever invented those definitely has a vendetta against Lan Wangji specifically. How is he meant to live his life when he walks into his living room at midday, after a long morning of studying, and is greeted with an eyeful of ass as Wei Ying practices whatever poses the yoga instructor instructs in those YouTube tutorial videos?

In fact, Lan Wangji is going to sue this person. And the yoga instructor. And whoever invented yoga. So what if it's an ancient art? There have to be descendants somewhere.

He wants emotional damages in the millions. He has things to do, and he can't focus on any of them when all he can imagine is bending Wei Ying over in those yoga poses in his bed. So someone needs to pay for that. It's an attack on his productivity and well-being.

Today, Wei Ying's sent him for boba. Not that he'd do anything Wei Ying asked (he would, that's not the point right now), but he woke up craving boba himself and the quaint little shop that opened across the street sells the best tea Lan Wangji has ever tasted - so he got dressed to go get something for himself and asked Wei Ying, self-entitled "boba slut number one", if he wanted some too. Expectedly, the answer was yes, so here Lan Wangji is, getting two drinks for him and his... friend.

He's also ordered some of Wei Ying's favorite pastries, because if there's anyone who deserves a treat, it's him - and Lan Wangji sort of selfishly wants Wei Ying to latch onto him and hug him in gratefulness when he receives them. So what.

He's only gone for something like 15 minutes, but when he walks back into the apartment and hears the upbeat voice of the yoga instructor Wei Ying follows, he knows he has about 3 and a half minutes of self control in him before he has to run off to his room and lock the door.

And then he walks into the living room, and Wei Ying's in his tight yoga pants and a crop top that hides a total of zero skin, glistening sweat and red in the face - and Lan Wangji is ready to lock himself up in horny jail. Give him the key and a life sentence.

Wei Ying is bent over in what could only be aptly described as "face down, ass up" (not that Lan Wangji knows, shut up!!), his back arched so beautifully that Lan Wangji's mind can already picture him behind Wei Ying, inside-

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying calls out and promptly falls onto his belly before rolling over and taking a much more decent seated position. "I was wondering why you were taking so long!"

Lan Wangji decides he's not that much able to speak, so he just hands Wei Ying his paper bag and smiles at the joyful sound Wei Ying lets out upon discovering an entire collection of sweets and two cups of boba.

"You're really the best, Lan Zhan! I could kiss you right now!"

"Then do it."

Lan Wangji only realizes he says it out loud when he hears Wei Ying gasp. Panic fills him, and he doesn't know if he wants to flee or stay so still that he blends into the furniture.

Wei Ying's cheeks are so red he looks like he's been doused in blush powder.

"...would you like that? For me to kiss you?"

What the hell, Lan Wangji thinks to himself, and crosses the distance between him and Wei Ying, their lips meeting in place of an answer.

"W-wait, my lesson-" Wei Ying moans out as he finally separates from Lan Zhan for air.

Lan Zhan reaches to close the lid of his laptop in response. "I'll help you stretch out."

And he does.

[12am-motivation]

mo you need to promise me that when we get nightbringer i NEED YOU TO POST SCREENSHOTS AND UPDATE ME (US) ON IT AND EXPLAIN WHATS GOIN ON BC IM SO CURIOUS BUT I DONT THINK ILL BE ABLE TO GET THE GAME

Heya, King! I can't really promise that I'll be regularly updating about Nightbringer since I'm still busy with school but I'll post as much rambles as I can during my brainrot (and free time)! Most likely during the first few days of its release starting tomorrow. ^^

I'm sure a lot of us will be spamming the Obey Me tags with gameplay, lore, and brainrot once again once it gets released so you can look forward to them, too!

(And we're definitely gonna get more Solomon content~)

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: King Aegon ii Targaryen x Targaryen! Little Sister! Reader prompt: When the small council plans to marry off once again, you turn to your older brother for help. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were the youngest and third daughter of Alicent and Viserys. A few months younger than Helaena and Aegon's little shadow in your childhood. Your older brother at first hated it, the way you cling onto him and gawk at him with an innocent awe.

It was your ninth name day, your Father had not paid much attention to it, but your Mother had ordered a celebration for it. You had trailed after him, babbling about nonsense as he tried to lose you. It was at dinner that night that everything had boiled over. Instead of receiving gifts, you had taken to giving everyone a gift.

He had not expected anything. He hadn't been the most kind to you. But was surprised when you had gifted him an embroidered cloth with Sunfyre on it. It was not the best and some threads were loose, but you proudly had told him you learned embroidery for him. Seeing those big doe eyes of yours his opinion changed. He adored you. You were the only one in the family that did not care about his worsening reputation. You just...adored your big brother, flaws and all.

It was why it killed him on your eleventh name day you were shipped off to the Reach, married off to a Lord as old as your Grandsire. He was haunted by your wails, of the way you clung onto Helaena and Aemond, the two of them wailing as Ser Cole carried you off to the carriage.

His young sister, the only one in the family who truly cared, was sold off like a piece of cattle. Not even your cold Grandsire was able to protest the marriage as politically it was a good match and good enough reasoning for the small council to approve it. 

As years ticked by, you gave birth to two children, a stillborn daughter and a healthy son. Your husband kept you away in the Reach, so no one in your family had seen you since you were twelve and given birth to your only surviving son.

He remembered the look in your eyes, so void and almost dead. Of how you tried to stay positive. Saying, "Tis' not so bad. He mostly ignores me, except when he wishes to bed me. But even then tis' not so bad, he finishes quickly."

When he became King, he swiftly ordered you to return home, regardless of your husband's wishes. No one would take his baby sister away from him. Not whilst he was still alive and had the crown placed upon his head.

Watching you bounce your son on your lap, he attempts to pay some attention to the small council, but his eyes keep straying back to you. It was odd to think that you were now a Mother and all grown up. Snapping out of his little daze, he glances back at the small council, each member arguing intently. Furrowing his brows in confusion, Ser Criston slides a piece of parchment in front of him, an uncomfortable look on his face. Raising a brow at what he had just returned to, he glances at the parchment, reading the words quickly. 

Your cunt of a husband was dead, finally croaked in his sleep. There was no reason for you to go back to the Reach. You could stay here in King’s Landing once more. Softly smiling at the good news, he goes to speak up when Lord Lannister stands up from his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. His face red from anger, his eyes wild like an untamable beast, and voice booming loud enough that it would make a dragon’s roar put to shame.

“To speak of the Princess in such a manner is dishonorable, I will see to it personally that your tongue is removed, Lord Wydle.” 

“The girl is of age, she has proven she can bear heirs, healthy heirs. To not give her hand to another Lord would be foolish.” 

“We need allies, the common folk are starving and soon the coin will run out. Surely as Master of Coin you can see reason, Lord Lannister.”

“Your grace, please, listen to reason we should⎯”

It takes a moment to realize what they had been discussing so intently. Then it clicks, they were speaking of having you remarry. 

"What?" He whispers, his voice shaky and full of disbelief.

"No, Aegon, please don't make me do this again. Please." You whisper, tears building up in your eyes.

"It would be best to have your sister marry someone⎯"

"Think of the war, your grace⎯"

Seeing the tears building up in your eyes, it reminded him of all those years ago when you were whisked away to the Reach. Struggling to speak up and dismiss their suggestions, you kneel in front of his chair, gripping onto breeches as you beg and plead for clemency to their plans. Your son starts to wail on the other side of his chair, making motions with his hands to be picked up. 

Feeling his heart break a little at the sight, he shifts his gaze from you then your wailing son then back to the small council. Everything is hectic and he doesn’t know who or what to focus his attention on. Does he console you? Does he tend to your wailing son? Does he handle the small council? Struggling to find his voice, he just stays frozen in his chair. 

“Please, please, do not make me do this again, Aegon.” You beg, “I did what was asked of me before. Please do not ask this of me again.”

“We need allies, your grace. The Princess is still desired by many men, men who will look past her past marriage and son. Think of the kingdom⎯”

“Send treaties, then!”

“Please, Aegon. I ask as your sister, not a member of the Court. Please do not make me do this again. I do not wish to marry again. Please do not send me away again.” You beg, your voice cracking. 

Watching as the tears begin to fall from your eyes, he clenches his jaw tightly, anger boiling up at the sight of you. His precious little sister, the one person in all of the Realm that he truly cared for, was crying by his small council's hand. Slamming his hands down hard on the table, the room goes deadly silent, minus the soft sniffles of you and your son. 

“There will be no marrying off my sister! If you wish for such alliances as much as you claim, do offer your daughters instead, for I will not be doing the same to my sister nor my daughter.” 

“Your grace, if you would just⎯”

“I am King, no?” He snaps back, “There will be no questioning of my decision. The matter is settled.”

----

@fragileheartbeats

@danytar

@nightvers

[deerspherestudios]

Short Break and To Dos!

Hello all! 🍄🍄👻 I'm glad to see people enjoying Day 3 so far! I was so nervous about showing another side to Mychael in the update I thought people wouldn't like him as much but plenty have reacted positively! ❤️

I'll add a TLDR; above the read more, but if you don't mind my ramblings and want more details about everything, I'll write everything below! Light spoilers ahead!

I'll be taking a short break from MO development until 28th October to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Regarding the feedback on Day 3, I'm glad people aren't as averse to the new side of Mychael, in that he isn't always soft and sweet. I want people to fall in love with a person after all, not a yandere caricature, and that means that person can get upset, angry and sometimes irrational when we don't know what's going on in their head even towards the subject of their affections. While some (understandably!) were shocked about his reaction to the mushrooms, it'll be clear as to why (hopefully!)

Some of you have given incredibly accurate theories, and I'll take that as something I've done well in building up the mystery!!! I'm excited to share more in the next update, but for now!

1. I'll be taking a short break from MO development to work on a short VN for the Monstrous Desires jam!

What I have planned for Day 4 of MO might be the biggest update so far, since one route will lead to a few official BAD ENDINGS as opposed to 'dead ends' like the current demo has. To those who really want to, you finally get to see Mychael at his worst. As usual, writing the script takes a few months with plenty of changes in between, and I don't wanna bulldoze ahead and rush the story when it's getting to the climax!

But before I jump into all of that I just wanna give myself a creative exercise and try exploring a different theme, style and setting with a fresh new character for the jam! Since I'm a sucker for the trope... yes, the new blorbo will also be a yandere, sorry, I'm predictable.💔 The jam ends on October 28th so development on MO will continue then!

The last time I wrote something remotely sci-fi was in high school, so this will be fun to try!

2. Most probably missed it, but there's a tiny small patch to Day 3 explained here.

What it says on the tin! If you've already played Day 3, rest assured there's no significant story changes. Just an updated credits list, three extra sprites for one route and a small fix in the code.

3. Queue will return soon! I just gotta handle some housekeeping first with my Patreon.

Plenty of people have sent such sweet and encouraging messages to my inbox on what they thought of the update and I cannot thank all of you enough for the support!! I can't wait to post them out to archive them on the blog and answer all your interesting theories and queries in my queue!

But for now I'm due for a short break from my socials and to catch up on my Patreon sketch requests haha. I also plan to release cut content from Day 3 for my Yearling and Deer patrons. Plus, I'll be working on some written prompts for extra lore so that's something to look forward to!

I'll be back soon! Take care, fireflies!! ❤️

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congratulations on 700 followers Mo 😖💗....I really LOVE reading your fanfics☺️

I was kindly requesting Navy hummingbird and sloth please

Eeeek thank you so much for reading! I hope you like this one! (Honestly? I kind of wrote this with the thought of it being Burning Hearts, my Law series, adjacent.) Needy Law is so cuuuuute!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Prompt/Trope: Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac x Somnophilia 

WC: 1900

Warnings: oral, sex pollen affects, somnophilia without discussion but let’s assume they have (don’t worry we’re cool!) unprotected sex, p in v sex, prone bone, creampies and breeding baby!

Happy Anniversary, Baby (18+)

— — 

Law was a composed man. Over time, you had managed to worm your way through his hardened exterior to reach his nerdy, compassionate, caring center. Even as he opened up to you, he was still methodical about most things, including sex. He had the motions to make you orgasm down to a science at this point, making sure you were pleased far more than worrying about his own release. He always pulled out. He was the doctor who prescribed your birth control for god’s sake but he insisted on being careful anyway. Even if you begged him to finish inside, he was stubborn. You would never complain about your relationship with Law, he was just the way you liked him. 

Law was up early one morning going over paperwork at his desk. He couldn’t sleep any longer and didn’t want to wake you from your peaceful slumber by tossing and turning, so he decided to get some work done. 

After an hour or so of being engrossed in his work, Law glances at the calendar hanging on his office wall. Todays date had little pink hearts drawn around it in gel pen, by your hand of course. 

“Oh shit.” 

Law had forgotten about your anniversary. 

He had to think of something fast, preferably before you woke up. You were always telling him he worked too much so he couldn’t imagine the ass-chewing he would receive if you found out he forgot your anniversary. 

“Flowers…” He mumbles as he rises from his desk and leaves his office. He headed down the hall to the large closet you had converted into a makeshift greenhouse for your beloved hydroponic garden. 

He rips open the metal door and is hit in the face with moist air and the refreshing smell of greenery. The walls and center of the room were completely covered in carefully curated small plants, vegetables, flowers, and ferns. Law steps in and closes the door behind him. 

“She likes yellow…” Law mutters to himself as he finds himself overwhelmed by all the flowers around him. He was a doctor, not a botanist, he had no idea what any of these plants were so he just decided to choose something in your favorite color. 

He walked up to a large bush on the left side of the room that had unique-looking yellow flowers blossoming all over it. He thought this would be as good as any so he reached out his hand to pluck at the stem of one of the blooms. 

Just as he wrapped his tattooed fingers around the plant, the flower released a puff of yellow pollen right in his face. Law jerks backwards. The particles fly up into his sinuses and causes an uncomfortable tickle. 

“Ah- ACHOO!” Law sneezes violently which triggers the rest of the flowers on the bush to release their own supply of pollen into the air, clouding his vision and irritating his nose further. 

Law covers his face and rubs his eyes, trying to brush any remaining flower pollen off of him. 

“Must be some kind of natural defense mechanism… fuck that.” Law gripes as he wipes the last remnants of the pollen from his tired face. 

Law catches his breath and chooses to abandon this particular, aggravating plant. He spies a rosebush in the corner of the room. He knows what those are for sure, and as long as he doesn’t prick himself on the thorns, it should be less of a challenge to harvest them. 

Law walks over to the rosebush and begins snipping off the beautiful yellow blossoms, keeping the stems just long enough to put in a vase. Once he had around a dozen roses, he left the greenhouse room to find suitable container for the flowers in the kitchen. 

Rooting around in the kitchen cabinets, Law struggles to find anything nice enough for an anniversary bouquet. 

He wipes sweat from his brow and realizes that he’s been having to do it every few moments… why was he so sweaty? Was the boiler on the fritz again? He made a mental note to check the furnace on the ship after he gave you your gift. Law ignores the heat creeping up through him and continues searching the cabinets. 

He is pushing coffee mugs aside just as he notices the warm feeling become even more intense. Sweat was beading at his temples. 

“Fuck…” Law grunts and abandons his quest briefly so he can pour himself a glass of water. He chugs the entire cup in a few gulps and slams it back onto the kitchen counter. His jeans felt tight now. He looks down. His dick was fully hard, straining against the thick fabric of his pants. 

“What the hell…” Law had no idea what was happening to him. He was normally so in control of his faculties, but he now found himself painfully erect for no reason at all. He felt more droplets of sweat trickle down from his scalp to his neck. He grips the countertop and hangs his head, breathing heavily. 

It had to be that plant. He had no other logical explanation for the ache in his crotch and the uneasiness he was feeling in his head. The water didn’t help. He needed your help. You knew everything about the plants in there and would know exactly what to do to make the effects stop. 

Great, Law thought. Not only did he blow off your anniversary, he might have severely injured himself in the process… once again he wins the “Shittiest Boyfriend in the Grand Line” award. You were going to kill him, and at this point Law was so uncomfortable that he would probably let you. He abandons the flowers strewn across the kitchen counter and heads to your shared bedroom, desperate to find a cure to his ailment but also apprehensive of your reaction to his idiocy. 

He pushes open the bedroom door and quietly slips in, so he wouldn’t startle you if you were still sleeping. Before he has a chance to even form the words he wanted to use to explain himself to you, he was stopped in his tracks by your sleeping form. 

You had tossed all the covers off your body since Law had left, and you were laying on your back snoozing peacefully. Arms stretched over your head, Law’s bright yellow t-shirt emblazoned with his Jolly Roger was the only article of clothing you had on. You looked so serene, lost in your dreams, little snores escaping your parted dry lips… but Law could only focus on one thing. His t-shirt had ridden up and your thighs were spread, perfectly exposing your naked sex to him. 

Law felt his entire heartbeat in his cock now. Your plump, outer pussy lips looked so delicious, so kissable, and all Law could think about now was burying his tongue in you as you slept. Without thinking, Law unzips his pants and steps out of them when they fall to the floor, hissing as his dick finally has more room to breathe. He was no longer in control of himself, he could almost smell you from across the bedroom. He needed to have you now. 

He shouldn’t! The last of his sanity was pulling at his brain, begging him to just wake you up and ask you how to diffuse the effects of the flower’s pollen… but your naked cunt before him was just too much to resist any longer. 

Still feeling hot, Law strips himself completely, hat included. His hands tremble with need and tension as he tries to delicately settle himself on the bed between your legs, not wanting to wake you up. He would have a small taste and then let you rest… just one little lick…

He couldn’t help it. He immediately latched his whole mouth around your sex and laves his tongue up from the bottom of your hole to the top of your clit. 

“Hnnnhhh…” You whimper and shift in your sleep. 

“Mmmm…” Law groans into your pussy as your sweet taste helps alleviate some of the pressure he was feeling in his body. He can’t help but hump his hard cock into the mattress below the two of you, no doubt leaking pre and staining the sheets. 

Law notices you begin to stir and squirm underneath his touch, so he gently places his hands on your thighs to keep you still while he lapped at your pussy as if he was desperately parched and your body was an oasis. Becoming increasingly aroused, more of your slick leaked out of your hole into Law’s mouth which he greedily slurped up. The familiar flavor of you made his eyes roll back. He needed more. 

Law pushes himself up and positions himself on his knees between your legs. He grabs his cock and strokes it a few times harshly before lining himself up with your weeping hole. 

“I’m sorry baby…” Law whispers as he pushes himself into you. 

“Oh…” You sigh and your eyelids start to flutter. 

Without giving you time to wake up, Law sets a punishing pace with his hips and hammers into your wet cunt. Your breasts bounce freely underneath Law’s t-shirt and you rub your eyes involuntarily. 

“L-Law?” You sleepily say as you gain consciousness and realize he’s on top of you and balls deep inside of you. You thought you were just having a sex dream but you were shocked to find your partner waking you up with his cock. 

“Needed you now… Had to take you… You looked so fucking good and I just couldn’t stop…” Law grunts out as he thrusts into you with everything he has. 

“Fuck… feels so good…” You whimper out, sleep still heavy in your mind. 

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ Law huffs out before you feel him press hard into you. You then get the unfamiliar feeling of him shooting a heavy load inside of your walls. 

“D-did you r-really just-“ You stutter. You feel his member still twitching and hard inside of you. 

“Fuck why won’t it go down?” Law grits his teeth. 

“W-what?” Before you had time to question him further, Law picks you up by your waist and man handles you onto your stomach, spreading your legs again to make room for him. He pulls your hips up and presses his dick inside you again, your tender hole seeping white liquid out and coating him. 

“Shit! Law!” You moan as you feel him hit your favorite spot from behind. He picks up a brutal pace as he fucks you. “S-slow down, babe!” You try to push a hand back on his abs to quell his fervor. “I’m gonna-“

“C-can’t… I can’t! Fuck!” Law huffs as he grips your hips impossibly tight, surely leaving marks. You had never seen this animalistic side of your boyfriend and you couldn’t help how much it turned you on. You felt yourself hurtling towards the edge of orgasm embarrassingly quickly for someone who had just woken up. 

“AH!” You yelp into the pillow below you as you cum, hard. 

“Yes baby, this pussy is so fucking good, squeezing me so tight…” 

You were a babbling mess as Law’s heavy thrusts send you into overstimulation. 

“Gotta fucking fill you again, want you to drip for days…”

You whimper in response. 

“Yeah you’re mine baby, all mine… gonna stuff you so fucking good… FUCK-“ Law almost shouts as you feel more hot liquid filling your insides, surely leaking out around his member. 

Law rides out his second orgasm with a few more deep thrusts before he collapses over you and nuzzles his face between your shoulder blades. 

Finally feeling relieved, Law pulls out of you tenderly before flopping on his back next to you on the bed, out of breath. You turn to your side and snuggle into him as he wraps his arms around you. 

“Happy Anniversary?” Law says tentatively.

“Happy Anniversary indeed. Was that my present?” You giggle. 

“I cut you some flowers, left them in the kitchen, though.” Law says as he strokes your hair. 

“Wait… what flowers?!” You raise your voice as your head shoots up off his chest. 

xx

Mo

[jae-bummer]

Right Here With Me

Request: hi! :) i feel like #19 on your recent prompt list would really fit to seventeen’s hhu, specifically to mingyu or seungcheol.. i adore your writing, thank you for putting in so much effort 💌

Prompt:

19) Taking care of your tipsy bias.

Pairing: Seventeen S.Coups x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

You jumped as Seungcheol slammed his hand on the table. "Sing with me."

You blinked up at him in surprise. He was shimmying from side to side with the karaoke mic in hand.

"Coups," you sighed, crossing your arms. "We really need to get you guys back home."

"Noooo," he pouted, now his turn to cross his arms. "It's so lonely at home. Here is the opposite of whatever lonely is."

You looked across the table to Vernon who seemed to be thinking over the antonym of "lonely." Turning your eyes to Wonwoo for help instead, he gave a small shrug before taking a long sip of his water. To his benefit, he had been about as many drinks in as the rest of the guys but had chosen to hydrate about an hour ago.

"Come oooon, Y/N," Mingyu cooed, swaying behind Coups with the other microphone. "One more song!"

"One more song!" Coups chanted. "One more song!"

It wasn't long before Vernon and Mingyu had joined the chorus. With their shouting still in the background, Seungcheol stepped toward you and reached out to play with a lock of your hair. His eyes were half lidded and his plush lips pulled up at one side. "Come on, baby."

Closing your eyes, you sighed. "Coups."

Plopping on the bench beside you, he coaxed you into his side, and placed a wet kiss on your temple. "Pretty please? I love you soooo much. Why won't you love me?"

"Why is it that he always feels it pertinent to confess to you when he's drunk?" Wonwoo muttered as he watched with lifted brows.

"I don't know," you hissed, fighting your way out of Seungcheol's arms. "And what does me loving you have to do with you singing another song?"

"Everything," he said with a stubborn nod.

Wonwoo wasn't wrong. This was often Seungcheol's MO. You were best friends, even closer than that even. He was like a limb at this point. If you lost him, you wouldn't know how to function. That being said, the two of you had never explored a romantic relationship. You were mostly afraid of ruining your friendship, and he seemed to only think about it when he was intoxicated.

"He's so going to regret this in the morning," Vernon cackled, falling back into his seat.

"If you loved me, you'd let me sing one more song," Coups whined. "I'll even sing OUR song."

"We have a song?" you muttered. "Since when do we have a song?"

"Since," Coups hiccuped. "I heard it and thought of you."

"That's hardly "our" song then." You couldn't help but chuckle, plus, you were very curious to hear what Coups thought of as "your song."

"Pleaaaase," he begged. Sticking out his bottom lip, he gave you puppy dog eyes.

"Fine," you gasped. "One more song and then I walk you home!"

An award-winning smile took over Seungcheol's face as he sprung up and toward the karaoke machine. Flipping feverishly through his options, he finally seemed to find what he was looking for. Spinning around, he pointed a finger at you.

"This is for you, Y/N," he said in a low voice. You weren't sure if he was trying to be sexy or funny.

"Oh, this is going to be good," Wonwoo chuckled, pivoting himself to get a better look at the front of the room. Vernon already had his phone out and set to record.

You took a deep breath as you heard the intro to the song. Surely this wasn't what you thought this was.

"I've been drinking, I've been drinking," he crooned. "I get filthy when that liquor get into me - I've been thinking, I've been thinking..."

"Holy shit," Vernon hissed in between laughs. "This is the best day of my entire life."

You wished you were a turtle. If you had a shell, you would have something to crawl into and die. What was he doing?

"WE BE ALL NIGHT! LOOOOOOVE! LOOOOOOVE!" Seungcheol and Mingyu screeched at the top of their lungs as they began to grind their hips into the air.

"Well," Wonwoo said with a wince as he stood from the table. "That's enough of that."

Taking the few steps to cross the room, he tapped gingerly on the karaoke tablet. Within seconds, the music turned off, and the boys were left screaming in the open air.

"Yah!" Coups gasped, after he realized. "What did you do that for?"

"Everyone, I did that for everyone," Wonwoo muttered, gathering his things. "We have an early schedule tomorrow. Let's get moving."

You never had feelings for Wonwoo, but you could honestly kiss him right now.

"You heard him!" you yelled, pulling yourself to your feet as well. "Let's get moving!"

..

"Why didn't you like my song?" Seungcheol hiccupped. You were easing him up the steps to his apartment, holding nearly all of his body weight in the process.

"I liked your song just fine," you cringed, another flight of stairs behind you.

"You looked miserable," he pouted. "Why don't you ever take my confessions seriously, Y/N?"

"Because you don't take your confessions seriously," you muttered. Furrowing your brow, you counted the numbers on the apartment doors until you found his. "What's your code this week?"

"I can't tell you," he slurred. "It's a se-se-secret."

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you fluttered your hand toward the door. "Type it in then."

Seungcheol hiccupped again before slumping in the direction of the doorframe. Cupping his hand around the keypad, he eyed you suspiciously. "This is for my safety."

"I know, Cheolie," you laughed. "I'm not arguing with you."

Glancing back to the keypad, he stumbled back a bit. Catching him by the shoulders, you waited for the door to unlock.

"Why are there so many numbers?" Coups sighed, leaning against the door again and poking at the lock. "Three two's? Which two is the right two?"

"Let me try," you hummed. "Can you tell me what your code is?"

"My manager said not to tell anyone. Not even my mom."

"And you can change it as soon as I leave," you sighed. "If we can't get in, you're sleeping on the door mat tonight. And that's not very safe, is it?"

"Why can't I stay with you?" he asked, his eyes brightening with the sudden idea.

"Because I am not hauling you downstairs again and then another three blocks," you grumbled. "The code, please Coups."

"I like it when you call me Cheolie," he pouted.

"Cheolie, my sweet bean," you said, trying to contain your exhaustion. "Will you please tell me the code?"

"Mmm," he hummed, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck. "Is my birthday."

"Shocker," you breathed, rapidly typing in the lock code. The door made a small buzzing sound before chiming that you could enter.

Stumbling into his apartment, you flipped on the lights and popped off your shoes before heading to the kitchen. Seungcheol, on the other hand, toppled to the floor and began yanking at his shoes.

Scanning the cabinets, you found his most spill-proof tumbler and filled it with ice water. Judging by the muffled sounds of frustration in the entryway, he was still taking off his sneakers.

Turning the corner, you could only sigh. He looked like a toddler sorely in need of a nap. "They won't come off," he said quietly before looking up at you.

"Here," you said, handing him the water bottle. "Drink."

Doing as he was told, he gripped the bottle with both hands, and leaned back against the wall. You crouched down, making quick work of his shoelaces before you managed to finally free him.

"Let's get you to bed," you murmured, motioning for him to take your hand. He slid his palm into yours before easing himself up.

"How could I go from feeling so good to feeling so awful?" he muttered.

"Funny how alcohol will do that," you chuckled, walking with him to his bedroom. "Arms up."

Setting his drink on his desk, he lifted his arms into the air and allowed you to pull his hoodie from his torso. Losing balance after the motion, he toppled onto the mattress, pulling you with him.

"Hey!" you groaned, immediately trying to separate yourself.

"Stay with me," he said softly, tangling his arms and legs around you. "Please?"

He was always affectionate when he was drunk, and you knew that. You needed to shut it down now before your heart could coax you into staying a little longer.

"I have to go home," you whispered, still not willing your body to move. You tried not to be amused as Seungcheol began pulling blankets around you and tucking them in.

"You are home," he whispered. "Right here with me."

You felt an unwelcomed warmth spread through your chest. If he wasn't so cute this would be a lot easier.

"Seungcheol..."

"Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol," he continued quietly, settling himself in beside you. "Why do you always give me reasons why you can't stay instead of just trying?"

A little voice inside the back of your head repeated the old adage, drunk minds speak sober hearts. Coups was only clingy when he had too much to drink, but he had always been tender with you. Whether sober or inebriated, he was your person. You had never allowed yourself to think past platonic soulmates...but maybe...

"You're drunk," you countered. You felt so small in bed next to him. He was comfort and safety, even with soju on his breath.

"And you're scared."

He couldn't see the code to get into the apartment, but he could sure see right through you.

"It doesn't matter what I am," you whispered. "You'll regret this in the morning."

"No, I won't," he insisted. "Because I'll wake up with you next to me and I'll remember that drunk me did hangover me a solid.

I want you here, Y/N."

"Because you're drunk."

"Because you're mine," he said softly. "You always have been."

"Have I?" you whimpered. At this point, you were scared to break the spell. Scared that he would sober up and kick you out of his bed.

"Mhm," he cooed, pulling you closer. After placing a light kiss on your forehead, he chose to set his cheek there. "And I won't let go. Not even if there's a fire."

Anything that looked blurry now could be settled in the morning. How could you leave after that?

.

The Morning After

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Holidays! I really love your writing, thanks for taking the time to write these prompts! I would like some Lady Mo please!

a continuation of 52 53 54 55 56

Wei Wuxian is irritated to see Song Lan, Xiao Xingchen, and A-Qing seated as far as from the main table as possible, but knows saying anything about it won't do anyone any good. Besides, all three of them look as exhausted as he feels, and it's a reminder that he's not the only one that's had a tumultuous day.

He's hoping he can leave the banquet early and crawl into bed and maybe cry a little bit before Lan Zhan joins him. He wants to blame pregnancy for his weepiness, but the truth of it is he wasn't exactly stoic and dry eyed in his first life.

"Lady Mo," on the senior disciples booms, far louder than necessary considering he's right there, "why aren't you drinking? You're not in Cloud Recesses anymore!"

The wine is right there and he can't even have any. What a tragedy.

He glances to the side, catching Jin Guangyao's eye instantly and neither of them so much as twitch but he's sure they understand each other perfectly. He never thought this level of familiarity was something he'd share with Jin Guangyao, but he can't say that he minds.

He briefly considers putting up a fuss at being referred to improperly, considering the very blatant insult in there, but the truth of it is whenever someone refers to him as Jin he wants to throw up a little bit.

"Jin Zixun," Jin Guangyao says smoothly, "Madame Lan is simply adhering to the rules of her sect."

Aw, putting him in his place and reminding him of Mo Xuanyu's status without using the name Jin, because he knows Wei Wuxian hates that. He'd pinch Jin Guangyao's cheek if he didn't think it'd get his fingers bitten off.

The senior disciple scoffs. "Even Sect Leader Lan drinks at banquets. Why shouldn't Madame Lan be able too? Toast to a fruitful year with me!"

Hold on a second, hasn't this happened before? He has a vague memory of drinking for Lan Zhan because someone was causing a fuss. Is this the same guy? It can't be the same guy.

Whatever. He can do the same trick Lan Xichen does and burn the alcohol off with his golden core. Which is sort of a waste, but the sting of it down his throat with none of the fun side effects is the closest he's going to get for a while.

Lan Zhan stands so abruptly that the table he's sharing with his brother scrapes against the floor.

Oh great. What's he doing now?

By the slight twitch of Jin Guangyao's left eyelid, Wei Wuxian knows he's thinking the same thing.

[jmdbjk]

Traveling is my thing too...

I'm still marinating in my Are You Sure?! afterglow. I just loved every part of it, every minute of the episodes and behinds. There is one thing that's been on my mind and I know it might ruffle some people because of how it sounds at first.

Jimin and Jungkook spontaneously created "scenes" for Are You Sure?!. Prompted each other for the sake of making content. Another facet of being good entertainers...

They were trying to be content creators and not rely on others to tell them what to say or do. The total opposite of "scripted" which, of course, means the shows were unscripted and made up as the days' activities unfolded.

They both actively initiated moments they could play off each other. This is part of that now-becoming-over-used word we say to describe their dynamic... chemistry.

Was it fake? No. The moments they created were genuine interactions whether it was an inside joke of theirs or just talking about topics like cosmic horror or origins of slang words. Not any different than how we behave with our own close friends and significant others. We initiate conversation topics, we poke at each other, we talk about stupid shit, we sometimes have heartfelt and meaningful conversations.

In other words, we are authentic with our closest people. That's what humans do. And as we also are so comfortable with our friends and significant others, we can also have quiet time just being in the presence of the other. IT'S ALL NORMAL AND NOT FAKE.

Was it fan service? No. Again, they were being content creators, trying to create something that was purely them, purely normal interactions only they could have with each other.

Do they have off moments? Of course they do. When one or the other was not active in the interaction, the other was just being themselves, no faking, no fan service, just Jimin and Jungkook behaving as themselves, the only way they know to behave, in the presence of the other, nothing negative about it, just "being."

But they were on a mission to create content that they knew Army would enjoy while they were away. With a big smile, Jungkook said we'll really enjoy it. He said this before he got in that Jeep and drove away to Connecticut. He already knew before it started that he and Jimin were going to have fun. They trust us, their fans, to enjoy the things they give us. Those who do not enjoy it are not their fans.

I've seen people say they only watched a few clips and not the entire series of AYS and then conclude "its obvious (insert fave name) feels this or that." No Boo, you can't deduce those things from a 5 second slo-mo clip or a screen cap from a split second moment from an 8 episode series (9 hours of interactions between the members). What IS obvious is these people don't want to know the truth.

If you don't watch original content in its entirety, how could you possibly "know" your fave/bias? Especially this particular series. If you are a fan of Jimin, Jungkook or even Taehyung, if you did not watch the entire episodes, your opinion is meaningless. If you based your opinions on select snippets or screenshots with no context, your opinion is meaningless because you don't have the entire story. You have every right to say you don't like it and won't watch it because it doesn't align with your (false) idea of who Jimin, Jungkook and even Tae are. But in doing that, you should also remind yourself you are clinging to your own fantasies of who they are.

If you had access and were able to watch all of the episodes on Disney+, many thanks for helping to make this project of Jungkook and Jimin's a resounding success. Ranked #5 worldwide for 2024 TV shows on Disney+. This chart is sorted by popularity:

In his last live the day before enlisting, Jimin told us he was sick with the flu for a week after returning from Sapporo and only had another week before their enlistment. Maybe he was starting to feel the symptoms on that last day in Sapporo and it contributed to feeling so down.

The behind footage for Sapporo shows at some point the cameras were turned off in the car when they were driving to the airport to return to Korea.

It would have been easy for the show's producers to just edit the footage and write captions that totally ignore the fact the cameras were ever turned off at all. We would have never known. Them including that information helps us put everything in context. Jungkook and Jimin purposely turned the cameras off and they purposely informed us of that so we could understand that there was a lot of time without any recording whatsoever. Maybe they talked about stuff they didn't want recorded. Maybe Jimin took a nap because he wasn't feeling good. No matter, most would call that PRIVATE TIME. They had an abundance of PRIVATE TIME during ALL of these trips.

I feel strongly they will do a few more trips. They loved this so much, and they have a foundation to build on, they will do more.

And now, its been a few weeks after the last episode and we've got the behind scenes. It still sort of feels like a dream that these two produced this project for us. Yet it only made sense didn't it? Who else out of the 7 would do something like this? It's genius level thinking to create this, doing something they both have said they love doing, doing it with each other, the people they connect with the best, and giving us something at the same time. Brilliant.

And I want to say thank you to Jimin and Jungkook. Personally, this was the best of the best.

It is truly the work of the Universe that they have each other, to support each other during this period of time. In recent pics I've seen, they look well. I miss them so much.

And now we're just over 8 months away from having them back. Eight months and 15 days before all 7 are discharged and we look forward to the first group live and an ocean of tears of relief pouring from all over the world for them. 10 days until our Hobi is back. I'm so excited!

My Are You Sure?! photobook arrived the other day, I wasn't expecting it so suddenly because Weverse Shop still had it marked as "shipping soon" and then all of a sudden it was here. YAY!

I am going to scan a lot of it but the big postcard sized photos that were part of the early pre-order gifts are on my refrigerator. I also ordered the Are You Sure?! magnets but those won't be here until December. As you can see, I'm a collector of fridge magnets when I travel so it was a no-brainer to get the Are You Sure magnets.

Also, shout out to anyone in North Carolina trying to recover from Hurricane Helene. The Nantahala area was one of my most favorite vacations. I hope to go back someday. I know it's hard to rebuild, I've experienced the aftermath of too many hurricanes. Take it one day at a time and never lose hope. Normal will come back again.

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Hi Mo! I hope you are doing well! I really love your writing and the way you capture the duality of Alfie's character. I saw that you were looking for ideas so I thought I'd send one in (please feel no obligation/pressure to write it, this is just spit balling). Maybe something with reader being protective over Alfie. Maybe they're unaware of the infamous title the Camden King holds or they are but they have an overwhelming sense to have to protect him when the two are placed into a dangerous situation. Thanks so much, and again no pressure to have to write this ♥️!

Hi my friend!! You are so sweet, I hope you’re doing well too!! Thank you so much for this prompt! I gotta be honest, for some reason I had a hard time trying to figure out how I wanted to write this! I hope you enjoy it though, and if it isn’t hitting the way you were hoping, message me and maybe we can come up with something together!! Sending my love!!! - Mo

Change of Plans

Alfie Solomons x Wife!Reader

Warnings: fighting, blood, stitches

This was NOT how the night was supposed to go.

Alfie was going to have a late night at the office, finishing up some business with the Shelby boys. Fine enough, you could make his home coming sweet. A fresh chocolate babka would be fresh out the oven, ready for him to cut into and devour. Candles would be lit all over the house, with curtains drawn in to protect from peering eyes and the creeping in cold. And you. You were dressed so pretty, just waiting for him. Hair loose and free, just how he loves it. You had put on that soft pink dressing gown he likes so much. The silk one with the delicate lace at the ends. You even put lavender oil on, extra, just to entice him.

It was SUPPOSED to be a nice surprise. It was SUPPOSED to be an evening where you spoiled him. It was SUPPOSED to be a romantic evening.

But no… here you are. Sitting next to Ollie in the car. Being driven across town to a bar. A bar, where your husband, along with the idiots Tommy, Arthur, and John Shelby, were fighting. Being that Ollie was concerned enough to grab you from home, you could only imagine how bloody it was.

Ollie looked over at you, eyeing the hem of your dressing gown, nervous as to how the pink fabric would be received, “Uhm.. Ma’am, I have a coat in the back… don’t you think maybe-“

“No Ollie I don’t think I want it. If Alfie wants to pull me out of my house this late at night, he can deal with the consequences.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea-“

“Ollie you know I love you so very much but I will need you to not speak again until we get to the bar. Yes?”

Ollie nodded, but the stress never left his eyes. You know he meant well. He was only ever looking out for you and Alfie. He was very very sweet. But frankly, Alfie did not deserve to have Ollie looking out for him. He did not deserve common courtesy tonight.

You slam open the doors, and it was exactly as you assumed it was. Regular patrons of the bar were lined up at the edge of the walls, watching the gladiators in the center tear each other apart. There was blood all over the floor. Broken glasses and spilled liquor scattering the floor mixing with the red. Tables and chairs discarded and destroyed in the wake of the brawl. You assumed, that the fight started as Alfie against the brothers. But it looked from your stance now, that it was every man for himself. All four of the men were sporting black eyes, bruises and cuts all over their faces, necks, and hands. You heard Alfie’s laugh above the sounds, “C’mon now!!! You want some more?!”

He didn’t see you yet, but you could see him. He looked like absolute shit, and his mouth was bleeding despite the toothy grin he gave with every punch he gave and received. You rolled your eyes, and felt your rage rise. He was getting far too old for this shit, reveling in his strength and the destruction he could so easily cause. The honor he wanted to protect with the force of 50 men. In normal circumstances you find it honorable. Sometimes even charming. But the way it was going… someone was going to get killed. And if anyone was going to kill Alfie it was going to be you.

You motioned for Ollie to follow you, as you stomped over the bottles, blood, and water. The yells for more blood by the men at the edges slowly turned to whistles as they gave witness to your bare legs, the thin dressing gown, and your steaming rage barreling through. With strength mustered from God himself, you grabbed the collar of John and yanked him back quickly, tossing him onto his back, “What the! Oh, Mrs. Solomons…”

Ollie managed to rip Arthur off of Alfie’s back, and he too looked incredulous at your appearance at this disgusting scene. All that was left was Alfie and Tommy, still attempting to rip each others throat out, entirely oblivious to your presence.

“ENOUGH. STOP IT.”

You screamed, but to no avail. They were entirely focused on one another, on their mutual blood lust. Seeing no other option, you motioned for Ollie’s gun, snatching it from his hand, and shot three rounds into the ceiling.

They finally stopped, looking up to find you as the source of the noise. Where they initially looked like big men, they suddenly reminded you of naughty children.

“Alfred Solomons. Thomas Shelby. Just what in gods name do you think you’re doing.”

Silence. Utter silence. “WELL?! I’m waiting Mr. Solomons!”

Tommy tried to get up, but paused when you pointed the gun at him, “Do not make another move Mr. Shelby. Not only did you ruin a night with my husband, but you also nearly killed him. I have half a mind to shoot you dead right now.”

Not moving from your initial target, you address Alfie, “Have you finally found yourself speechless? Say something.”

With a swollen eye and bloody lip, he manages to smile sheepishly, “Just… just business love. Just… a bit of a quarrel darling nothing more… put the gun down my love, you look beautiful. A right vision darling. ”

“I will decide when I put the gun down Mr. Solomons.”

You begin pointing the gun at each of the four men, “I think we can all agree… that we are ALL a little too old to behaving this way yes?”

Tommy was watching you intently, as was Alfie. John and Arthur hung their heads. Embarrassed for both their behavior and their deep seeded fear of you. You motioned for Alfie to get up, “My husband and I are going to leave now. Mr. Shelby, I expect a handwritten note apologizing for ruining my evening. And Monday you all will convene together, to discuss the issue like fucking adults!”

Alfie winced as he got up, cane nowhere to be found. You walked back out into the cold, with Alfie close to your heels. You push him into the car before you, and slam the door shut, telling Ollie to take you home.

You can’t even look at Alfie. So overcome with irritation and worry. Irritated that he acted so recklessly, and worried about his injuries. As you always are. Alfie fiddled with the coat on the seat, “Coat is back here and you still decided to come out in your dressing gown eh?”

“Be quiet I do not want to hear you.”

“Oh you will hear me though won’t you yeah? You will hear me, because now, all of fucking London saw my wife’s bare legs! I mean what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me?! You want to know what’s wrong with me Alfie Solomons? I wait all day for my husband to come home. No no not just wait. I SLAVE around the house all day, make myself look nice, hoping HOPING that my husband makes it home! I worry sick ALL DAY that maybe this will be the day my husband doesn’t come home. And instead of coming home, he goes and acts like a COMPLETE FUCKING MORON and starts a fist fight with the Shelby boys!! You are getting too old for this kind of reckless behavior Alfie! And I cannot let you keep destroying your body like this!”

You begin to feel the hot tears fall down your cheeks, and Alfie’s heart starts to crack, “Aw.. darling I- treacle don’t go worrying about old Alfie now. Your husband is like an ox yeah?”

Your tears keep flowing, harder now, “No Alfie! No i do worry! It’s not about you being strong!! It’s about you being healthy! About you being safe! I’ve never told you to stop the business! I’ve never asked you to leave it! All I’ve ever asked is that you show wisdom! Not to go around picking fights! I can’t see you like this Alfie! You don’t deserve to get cut up and beaten for nothing! For a pissing contest! I shouldn’t have to see my husband like this just because of some… some pride!”

Alfie just placed his bloodied hand on your knee, patting and stroking your thigh trying to comfort you. Once Ollie got you and Alfie home, you silently walked up, freezing and covered in the smell of booze and violence. “Get to the bathroom Alfie. I’ll be there in a minute to clean you up.”

You changed out of your soft pink nightie, and slipped on of Alfie’s night shirts over your body, breathing in the smell of his left over cologne. With a sigh you lugged the medicine kit into the bathroom, where Alfie sat at the edge of the tub, shirt off, hot water running and steaming the room. Silently, you began cleaning the wounds on his hands and chest. Once the tub was sufficiently filled, you nodded for him to get in.

With a grunt he lowers himself in. It was getting harder to get into the tub. His muscles tighter than they used to be. You begin your work, stitching up the deeper cuts on his chest and face. It was like nothing to you now.

The first time you stitched him up, he had to talk you through it, giving you more comfort than you could him. It was a rough first try, the scar is still pure white between his shoulder blades, and you can feel it under your fingers at night. But now, you know your way around the needle and his skin, it’s a familiar ritual to you now, though you wish it wasn’t.

“You look as beautiful as you did on our wedding day.” Alfie says suddenly, eyes glossy, and forehead sweaty.

You shake your head at him. Of course he’s trying to flirt with you while you’re stitching him up, “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delirious.”

“Nah. I married an angel darling. You make those shirts look like them French magazines.”

You couldn’t help but smile. Damn him, he knows how to sweeten you up. You finally finish up the stitches, 10 different gashes in total, and you begin putting on the salve and bandages when he finally speaks again, “My sweet heart, you should not have gone down there. It would’ve been ok. You don’t need to be involved in all that.”

God he’s irritating. Throwing your hands in your lap you bite back, “Alfie don’t give me that. One of us has to have some sense! One of us has to care about you.”

“You are making a bigger deal out of this than it is. Or are you forgetting what it is that I do! I ain’t a soft man treacle.”

“Do not even try to spin it Alfred Solomons. I will not be made to be looked at like a hysterical and stupid house wife. You will not make me feel crazy Alfred Solomons. I am your wife and you will listen to me.”

A beat of silence. And two blinks from Alfie are your queue to keep speaking, “Never. Never have I ever told you to stop. I told you that I would always support you. That your people are my people. You want to continue the business. Absolutely. You want to drop it all and go to Margate. Beautiful. I will always be here for the aftermath. I will always be there to discuss. I will always be there to stitch you up. But this Alfie… this type of… reckless nonsense… you got slashed in the chest Alfie! I will not be made a widow Alfred Solomons. Especially in the wake of something which was preventable. I refuse to watch my husband kill himself for a fucking pissing contest.”

He stared at the water in the tub, losing its steam and washing away the grime from his day. In this moment he wasn’t the King of Camden. That mask left the moment he walked through the threshold. Right now he was Alfie Solomons. Your husband. The man who was to love and protect you.

“Alfie… don’t you see how much I love you? How much I want you to be safe? I hate seeing you in pain, it makes me sick. I don’t know what I would do if you were suddenly not here. I think… the sky would turn black. I would not be able to breathe.”

Alfie hummed, and began to rise out of the tub, “C’mon… let’s get to bed yeah?”

With a sigh you nodded, helping him out, and cleaning up your tools before leaving him to dress for bed. Already bundled in between the soft white sheets, you look above your book to watch him limp into bed, and your heart breaks. He grunts as he gets in, but then pulls at your shirt to bring you closer, “C’mere darling. Need you.”

You toss your book to the floor, huddling closer, letting him guide your head to his bare chest. He hums put a tune from his childhood, stroking your hair as he thinks. After a bit he whispers, “Do you know what would happen if you weren’t next to me anymore?”

“Hmm?”

“The world would stop spinning. Lose all its color. Food ‘d lose its taste. Music would be horrible. I’d stop breathing. There’d be no reason to breathe. No reason at all.”

You begin to feel tears fall again, but he kept continuing, “I love you my darling. You add meaning to all this… I’m sorry I made you feel… as if you didn’t matter. As if your feelings didn’t matter. They do treacle. Your husband is stubborn, and it ain’t right. Ain’t right to make my wife cry and worry. You’re the best a man like me could ever ask for. You put up with so much… I promise not to be such an ass yeah? Start using my head before I start up some nonsense. Deal?”

You nod, clutching his chest, kissing him wherever you could reach, as Alfie hums again, kissing the top of your head. “Now Treacle. Tell me all about these plans you had for tonight.”

[mdzs-is-rotting-my-brain]

Baby juniors! Omg is so cute!

Additionally sorry for the unhelpful emojis, I'll pick better next time. 😉

@mdzs-is-rotting-my-brain

🚒 🐳 🐇

The kindergarten teacher asked the class to pick up their favorite animal from a pile of toys and present it to the others - a small exercise on public speaking before the day was over. She gave them two minutes to pick, and after the children swarmed the toys and found their item of choice, they all circled around the teacher, eager to talk about their favorite.

The first to go had been A-Yuan. "I chose a bunny! Baba and a-Die and I have a lot of bunnies at home, they're cute and fluffy and really playful. They also have large families with a lot of children!"

"Oh, I know there was a saying once about doing something like rabbits!" Jingyi piped up from the crowd.

"Yeah!" Zizhen added, "It's about fu-"

"Okay, thank you!" The teacher interrupted, in a bit of a panic. "Who's next?"

Jin Ling offered, and proudly presented a whale plushie. "I like whales because they're big and strong, and no other animal messes with them. My actual favorite animal is the lion, but A-Qing stole it from me before I could take it-"

"Liar! I didn't steal it, you put it down! How was I supposed to know it was yours?!"

"You-"

"Okay, it's alright, A-Ling, A-Qing, no need to become upset, we're all friends here! Let's see, who wants to go next?"

Jingyi walked up to the front of the circle, barely holding in a laugh. "My favorite animal is the firetruck!"

The teacher hid a laugh into a cough. "Firetrucks are not animals, A-Yi."

"I know but there was no animal left that I like so I... improvised! Anyway, I like firetrucks because they're fast and they look cool. Kinda like the cheetah, which is my actual favorite animal, but that Zizhen snatched from me like a-"

The bell rang before Jingyi finished his sentence and the teacher couldn't have been more relieved.

[torialefay]

Prompt 7 with either Chan or Lee Know please

-🦔

Whatever Makes You Feel Better. Period. ❣️

〰️ boyfriend!leeknow x menstruating!reader

〰️ synopsis: having a particularly painful period has left you feeling pretty crummy. that is, until your boyfriend gives you some much-needed relief

〰️ reader has period, but otherwise is gender neutral.

〰️ warnings: period sex (hands only for now... part 2 maybe?), minors DNI 🔞

〰️ word count: 1k

• you'd been holding your belly all day, pressing down in hopes that it would provide any ounce of relief. usually your periods were never this debilitating, but this time was different.

• once your boyfriend noticed, he invited you to sit in between his legs so you could lean back into him while he rubbed your stomach and warmed you up.

• minho wasn't usually the "sappy" kind, but when the time called for it, he always took such good care of you.

• as you laid back against him, you couldn't help but let out small moans and sighs of relief as your pain let up, minho gently rubbing all of the cramps and tension away.

• as he kept massaging with one hand, the other snaked around to find your own, holding it tightly while he tried to focus his eyes on the tv ahead.

• "thank you baby," you whispered into his neck as you smiled, relief flooding over your face. no, more than relief. pure bliss. you let out a tiny moan as your head rolled back happily, soaking in your new-found peaceful state.

• minho would have done anything to keep you frozen in time so that he could look at that face all day. he knew it too well. the face he'd always make you give to him, but this was the first time he'd seen it outside of having sex with you. he'd be lying if he said that it wasn't an instant turn on.

• "you don't have to thank me, jagi," he smiled, planting a kiss to your cheek. you felt as he shifted back in his seat a bit, giving room to a slight hard feeling pressed against your back.

• 'really? he'd be into this?' you thought. you weren't opposed to period sex, it's just that you'd never really... thought about it before.

• but you couldn't be for sure that's what this was about. you decided to test your little theory.

• "babe? can you massage a bit lower?" you asked sweetly, waiting in anticipating for him to move down.

• you were patient as he dragged his had from your lower stomach to the area just above your pussy. he pressed softly, kneading his way into the skin and then going deeper.

• you gasped at the way that it almost fully resolved the pain. your breath was taken away as you arched your back and leaned back even further into minho, whispering words of praise to him. "fuck that feels so good," you strained out, hoping he'd go on forever.

• and then you felt it. the bulge behind you growing even harder. you were partly hoping that he didn't know you could feel it, but the other part of you couldn't give less of a fuck.

• you heard his breath hitch before quickening, trying to still himself. he didn't want to get lost in this. not when he thought it would weird you out. but boy was he wrong.

• "you know baby," you started again with a teasing smile, "they say that orgasms help the most with cramps." you began to move your hips the slightest bit as you waited for him to catch your words.

• "i think you could probably use that right now, don't you?" he smirked back. he used one arm to hold tightly around you, locking you into him. the other hand went down just a bit lower, going down to start palming your core over top of your pad. normally, you were team tampon, but bedtime was always a time to take them out. you definitely weren't regretting that decision now.

• you felt all the muscles in your lower half relax as minho started rubbing his hand deeply into you, making sure to go over top of the pad so he didn't make a mess.

• he'd been with you enough to know exactly what you liked... and exactly where your clit was without having to go searching for it. he rubbed tiny circles around where he knew the most sensitive part would be resting underneath.

• it sent tingles up your spine as he hit the right spot repeatedly. you felt yourself grinding into his hand instinctively as he went, giving you more and more delicious friction.

• the harder you both went, the closer you got to your orgasm. you knew it would wash over you quickly.

• minho took the chance to take solid bites along the side of your neck. he was making sure that every single part of you would be distracted by the pain.

• as you felt him push even deeper, circling your clit and working it up until you couldn't take it anymore, he ran his tongue along the outline of a new bruise forming on your neck.

• at that, you lost it. you couldn't help but to let out the loudest moan of your life as your orgasm washed over you with such strong intensity that you weren't even aware you were capable of.

• as you convulsed around him, minho never stopped his hand, making sure he rode out every last chance to help you feel better.

• once you'd finally calmed, you breathed quickly trying to catch your breath, realizing now how dry your mouth had gotten in the process.

• "well," minho chuckled a bit to himself, holding you in a tight bear hug from behind, "did it help?"

• you rolled your eyes as an annoyed smile came over your face. "i think so. maybe a little," you joked, nuzzling back into him.

• he kissed the top of your head before resting his chin on your crown for a moment. it was almost as if you could feel him pondering overhead. after a final few seconds, he cocked his head to the side.

• "if that felt good jagi..." he trailed off for a moment before finding his words. "then maybe we could try a little bit more?" he questioned, almost nervously.

• you couldn't help but smile at how cute he was. you turned your face to look at his own.

• "is this your way of telling me you want to fuck me while i'm on my period, lee minho?" you cocked a brow, taunting him in the most sensual voice you could muster.

• "that depends." he slid his hand back down now to cup around your pussy. not to put you through anything further, but to claim it as his own. exactly where he should be resting himself. "would you let me?"

---------------------------------

✨ if you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting, and/or re-blogging <3

[ohtobeleah]

Dream A Little, Dream Of Me // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: How are you supposed to sleep when all you see when you close your eyes is your dead and soaking wet husband?

Warnings: Mentions of Insomnia. Insomniac!reader. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Death. Mentions of loss. Platonic Jake Seresin.

Word Count: 1.7k

Author Note: Day Two of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Insomnia. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Aviators can’t be lazy, the risks are just too great. The second they stop pushing themselves, the second they stop focusing, something terrible always happens. Something that you never see coming always happens and it shakes you to your very core. 

Like losing the love of your life. 

“When’s the last time you slept?” You could hear Jake murmur at you from across your bedroom. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest assessing the mess that was your bedroom. The bedroom up until three weeks prior you shared with your husband, Rooster. “Y/n?” Jake tried to grab your attention yet again but all you did was continue to look out the window—watching as the rain fell outside in the depth of the night. Illuminated by the solar lights that you and Rooster had hung for the fall season. Halloween pumpkins were strewn across the awning, in all honesty they’d probably stay there till after Christmas. You couldn’t find it in yourselves to take them down now. 

Bradley always did enjoy the days when it rained. When he was a kid he hated rainy days. But the more he grew up, moved into adulthood, excelled in his career and fell in love with you, he enjoyed the rain a little bit more and more. All because he got the day off to spend with you. His wife. The absolute love of his life. It had been your first rainy day without him. 

“That’s it, I’m taking you to see a doctor.” Jake sighed in defeat as he made his way across the room towards where you sat with your knees pulled up to your chest and your cheek resting on your knee. “Rooster wouldn’t want you to waste away at his expense.” 

You knew why Jake was doing this, why he was being overbearing and fiercely protective of your mental stability. He’d promised Bradley, your Bradley, that he’d take care of you. Whatever he had to do. It was a locker room promise—the type of promise you make when your almost certain someone isn’t coming back. 

“If anything happens to me, take care of my girl Hangman.” Jake could still hear Rooster's voice ringing in his mind like a bell that had been dinged in silence. “Don’t leave her hanging, look after her for me.” But Jake Seresin was only one man who could only do so much for a woman who didn’t want to be helped. 

And that locker room promise was made years before Rooster ever suspected a thing. 

“Hey, come on Y/n, look at me?” Jake begged as he sat down beside you. “Please?” When you crained your neck the other way to face where Jake sat, he sent you a soft smile that you barely recognised as his own. “You’re not taking care of yourself, and unfortunately for you that’s not an option you have.” 

“My husbands dead.” Your voice was rash, like you hadn’t spoken in days. You didn’t do an awful lot these days. “Every time I close my eyes I see him—“ Jake didn’t speak, all he did was listen as he reached out to draw you closer into his chest as he let his back rest against the headboard. “He’s dead and everytime I close my eyes I see nothing but him.” 

Jake couldn’t begin to imagine what you must have been going through, Rooster was his best friend, his wingman—and his heart hurt every damn day he wasn’t around. So to even begin to understand the magnitude of your grief was something Jake knew he’d never be able to understand. 

But then you told Jake the truth—the truth about why you wouldn’t sleep. Why you wouldn’t close your eyes and allow yourself a little reprieve. To see the man you missed so much and his blood ran cold. It felt like shards of ice were coursing through his veins and in that moment Jake didn’t know how to respond. 

“He keeps telling me that he’s cold.” Exhaustion laced your words as you let yourself rest in Jake's warm embrace. “That he’s so cold and can’t get warm.” Jake was there, he remembered the accident all too well. “Everytime I see him he’s soaking wet Jake and everytime I wake up I swear the floor where he was just standing is still damp.” 

It didn’t matter what time of day it was or if it was the middle of the night—if you let your eyes close for even a second, all you saw was him. Your husband, begging you to join him. 

“It’s just your grief Y/n.” Jake tried to console you the best he could. “Your mind is playing cruel tricks on you because of how tired you are.” You knew it was the truth. “You need to rest, you can’t avoid sleep for this long without being affected.” Jake held you close, he had every intention of making sure you were okay after Bradley's death. He’d promised to take care of you. “It’s not healthy, if not for yourself you gotta sleep for Rooster—he wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.” 

“He keeps asking me to join him.” Jake's heart stopped inside his chest because as much as the fact you weren’t sleeping was a problem, that—that one sentence alone was cause for concern. “He begs me to, says that he needs me.” Your whimpers hummed against Jake's chest as he kissed the top of your head and inhaled the scent of your shampoo. 

God of all the people this had to happen to why on god's green earth did it have to be you? Why did it have to be you that lost the love of your life, and why was Jake now slowly losing his. 

“And the worst part is that I’m not strong enough to say I can’t.” 

“I think it’s time that you talk to someone, someone who can help you through this.” The first thing Jake was going to do once he’d gotten you to sleep was to call Phoenix for the name of the doctor she saw back in June. You needed to see someone. “But for now? I’m gonna stay right here, and you’re gonna close your eyes—because you need to sleep Y/n.” 

“I miss my husband.” Again you ignored the pleading tone in Jake's voice that seemed to be the only reason he spoke these days. “So much it hurts.” 

“I miss him too.” Jake cooed as he held you tight, held you close, held your head against his chest and cried with you. He let you curl into his side and tug at his shirt as you screamed and cried out your husband's name until you swore your throat was raw. “And he loved you so much—“ Jake gently stroked your hair as he felt you settling into him. “He loved everything there is to possibly love you about you.” 

There are times in everyone’s lives when love really does conquer all. Exhaustion, sleep deprivation, insomnia. Anything. And then there are those times when it seems like love brings nothing but pain.

“I don’t know how to do any of this without him.” Your words were a little less strained as you settled into Jake's warm embrace. “I don’t know how to live a life after him, Hangman.” 

“How about we try and take it day by day? Together, we’ll try to figure out a way to get through, together—because I promised Rooster that I’d take care of you and I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” Jake didn’t press when you didn’t answer, but he knew by the staggered length of your small barely noticeable whimpers that you were losing the battle against your will to stay awake. 

“You go to sleep, go see your husband and I will be right here when you wake up okay?” Jake cooed as he continued to stroke your hair behind your ear. “Tell him off for me, for getting distracted, for letting—“ Jake held his tongue, he was about to tell you, to tell Bradley, he shouldn’t have been so distracted up there. 

But then again, Rooster was the one who confronted Jake in the first place. It was Rooster who shoved him in the hallway of the carrier they were doing over water training on. Rooster was the one who accused Jake of being in love with his wife. 

And Jake was the one who’d told him that yes, yes he was. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake woke with a gasp when he realised he’d fallen asleep with you in Bradley’s bed. He should have known better than to get himself into this situation, but he’d promised—he’d always promise Rooster that he’d take care of you if anything happened. 

He just never thought that day would come, and that it would technically be his fault too. 

But the more Jake came to he realised he was alone. Alone in your bedroom that up until three weeks ago you shared with your husband. 

“Y/n?” Jake frowned as he looked around and sat up. Surely you hadn’t gone too far, surely he hadn’t been asleep for more than an hour. “Y/n?” Again Jake frowned as he swung his legs over the edge of the side of the bed his best friend used to sleep on. 

When Jake's feet hit the carpet his entire body turned to stone as his bare feet felt the water that had seeped into the carpet. Cold, icy water that took the breath right out of his lungs. 

“I took her with me so you couldn’t ever have her.” Bradley’s voice made Jake jump almost into the stratosphere. He was standing right there at the edge of the bed with you asleep in his sopping wet arms. “You won’t ever get her, won’t ever know what it’s like to be loved by her—“ 

It was the shouting that filled the bedroom that woke Jake up, his own shouting as he wrapped you tighter in his arms before you had a chance to jolt awake out of his embrace. He’d fallen asleep—only for what felt like a few minutes. He hadn’t been sleeping well either, but now that he’d seen what you were experiencing? What had been keeping you awake, he understood. For all the wrong reasons. 

“You saw him too.” You mumbled against Jake as your eyes remained wide and awake, watching as the water pooled in the carpet beside your bed. 

“Didn’t you?” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

[papurgaatika]

In The Darkness There’s So Much I Wanna Do

Kinktober Prompt 2: Somnophilia

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!reader

minors DNI with my work please!!

A/N: Howdy howdy my babies! This is dedicated to my beautiful beautiful stunning @phoeberidgers whose birthday it is (and if you can find the fun birthday reference in here I'll give you a sticker) seeing as she is Frankie lover number one, this is literally just for her. Thank you to the absolute loml @carlynkurin for beta’ing this (and all my other fics) for me. I hope the rest of you hornballs enjoy this. peace and love on the planet earth from me xoxo

Tags: somno, praise, oral (f! receiving), pussy eating king frankie morales everyone, established relationships, pre discussed kinks, loverboy frankie

word count: 2.1k

Summary: The days are long, and the nights are longer for Frankie. His hours at work have been killing him, and keeping him from you more than he wants to admit, but seeing you so peaceful at night is keeping him going

Frankie was an attentive lover, if there was ever an example of one. Bringing you flowers and chocolate when he knew your week was long, ordering you take out when he wasn't over to cook with you, sending you videos of celebrities you pine over. The perfect man wrapped up with a bow for you. Unfortunately, your perfect man came with long hours, bags under his beautiful baby brown eyes, and a thousand apologies that you’d constantly tell him not to make. 

You knew his work was important, your hard working boy, but it didn't mean it didn't make you a little upset. It wasn't uncommon for you to go to sleep before he even makes it home, curling into his pillow relishing in the smell of him, firewood and the slightly drizzly trail where you both go on frequent Sunday picnics. He hated leaving you at home alone, it made him feel like he was suffocating without you. He swears that if he could quit his job right now and spend every second of the day touching you, he would do it in a heartbeat. He doesn’t even need more than a touch, the simple feeling of his hand on yours, or your sides pressed together while you huddle for warmth is enough to keep him going forever. 

Frankie groans when he enters the house, his bones creaking as he stretches his limbs out on the couch and takes off his boots. He silently chides himself when he sees the lack of light in your bedroom and cringes when he sees the time 10:13. He swore that he would try to be earlier today, that he missed having dinner with you, missed being able to see you for more than an hour while you both get ready for the day in the morning. You had reassured that you understood and that it didn't bother you, but he knew it wasn't your favorite thing in the world. He wasn't blind, he could see the look on your face when he’d remind you he was working late again, saw your side table peeking open, your vibrator freshly washed because he hadn’t been able to touch you in days. 

It was killing him with how pent-up he was. He would catch himself getting hard at work at the most innocuous things. You had sent him a photo of you holding up a piece he needed to see and the sight of your hands had all the blood rushing to his cock, memories of your fingers spreading yourself open for him flooding his mind. "You had sent him a voice note in which your dog jumped on you, a fit of giggles bubbling out of you, and all he was thinking about was every single time he had drawn a gasp, moan, and shaky little sigh from between your lips. All in all, Frankie was needy. Needier than he had been in a long time. He doesn't even remember being this pent up while he was deployed, it had been easy then, to simply jerk himself off in a few minutes to some old magazines he had managed to keep. But now.. Now there was you. And no magazine was going to compare to you. Your hips, your eyes, your tummy, everything about you made him feel like he was going to explode. 

He slips into the bedroom and his gaze falls to the light of the moon filtering over your sleeping body. Fuck if you weren't perfect. He slips over to where you lay in bed and feels his heart (and dick) swell a little bit. He stares at you for a moment, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest with every breath you take, just reveling in how effortless it was for you to look this good. He knows he should shower, knows that he should change and eat the leftovers you left in the microwave for him like you always do, but he can’t help himself. He slips off his jeans not even bothering with his shirt, and slips onto the bed, his  forearms holding him up. He takes a moment to admire you, committing every curve and dip of your face to memory before he peppers faint kisses over you. He stills every so often, making sure you weren’t being disturbed, but he isn't a patient man often. 

You smell so fucking good, he wants to bottle it up and keep it with him for a hard day, You’re the only thing that can get him off anymore. He nips gently at your neck, grinning when he sees a soft red mark blooming on your skin. He slips the blanket off of your form, not that it was covering you completely anyway, and feels his eyes roll back into his head at the sight of you wearing one of his shirts. The fabric of the shirt had bunched up over your hip, the curve of your ass practically begging him to do something, to do anything. He traces an experimental line over the soft skin of your leg, watching as the goosebumps trail after his finger. His eyes moved up to make sure he wasn't disturbing you, and when he saw your face still at peace he continued. 

He moves back to your ankle, his head dipping down to press a kiss to it. If he could, he would kiss every single inch of you. Every part that he loves more than life itself. His hand wraps around your calf as his lips trace up the skin, the hair of his beard scratching you softly. As he makes his way to your thighs, he can't help but leave a few bites on them as he spreads your legs slowly. He doesn't move for a moment, his eyes locked on the plush of your pussy through your panties. he just stays there for a while, the soft fabric pulled against you looked sinful to him in the moment. 

The way the moon glows on your skin is like a guiding light for him, basking you in a silvery glow. Frankie swears his heart stops when you shift, your body spreading for him. Even subconsciously, you know that it was his touch, that you wanted him. He brings his nose to the waistband of your panties, nudging the elastic slightly before ducking his head down to smell you. The fact that you made him feel like a teenage boy again would be almost embarrassing if he wasn’t truly obsessed with you. With the way that just the smell of you made him dizzy, made his hips grind into the mattress subconsciously. His eyes press close when he presses an open mouthed kiss to your clothed cunt, the taste of your arousal making him groan into your skin. 

You had cum tonight, he knew the taste of you like the back of his hand, and he twinged in annoyance with himself that he wasn't home to watch you fall apart. The open side table, your toy sitting neatly inside of it, the taste of you, it all goads him on to go further;to prove that he was better than them. He narrows his eyes and focuses back on you. He would never blame you for taking care of yourself, he simply wishes that it could have been him. His plush lips press against you again, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe over the growing damp spot on your panties and grins to himself when he feels your legs twitch slightly at the contact. Frankie wants to stay here until he dies. bathed in moonlight, his head between your soft thighs, and your pussy practically dripping from his barely there touches. 

He can’t help himself, he knows that he should probably wake you up and tell you that he’s home, apologize for how long he was gone, but he was trapped where he was. He pulls the thin fabric of your panties to the side, a soft whimper leaving his lips when he sees how wet you were for him. “Pretty fucking thing….” He presses his mouth onto you soft and gentle, knowing you were probably still sensitive, and traces his tongue over the sides slowly.  Your taste was intoxicating, addicting. You were the pomegranate seeds, sweet and ripe on his tongue, that had him returning over and over again. 

He can feel your body stirring against him, your breathing becoming a little more shallow as he continues his ministrations against you. His head ducks down again and he holds your thighs in his big hands as his tongue flicks against you, lewd noises coming from his mouth as he moans into you. The curve of his nose pressing against your clit as he practically worships you, his jaw working like a man starved. Despite your slumbering state you could feel the haze of pleasure bubbling in your stomach, your body rocking slightly as he drew your orgasm closer and closer. He could tell you were close, he could always tell with you, he craved it. His hands move away from your thighs and spread your pussy open, his tongue lapping at you like he was begging you to fall apart. 

You wake up feeling incredibly good, your body was tingly and your ears were ringing, eyes barely fluttering open. You could hear him still working at your drooling pussy, your hand moving sluggishly to push his head away “Frankie?” you croak out, voice hoarse with sleep. 

“jus’ looking at you baby” he hums, blowing a soft breath of cold air against you, making your hips jolt up “so fuckin’ pretty” he murmurs pressing another kiss to your aching cunt “couldnt help myself.” 

In hindsight you should have known better than to try and move his head, it was a futile attempt that had no real chances of working. One of his hands moves to grab yours, bringing it down to his lips and giving your fingers a quick peck, before lacing them with his and holding it against the side of your hip. The sight of his eyes looking up at you through his lashes while he draws circles around your swollen clit with practiced precision should be preserved in a gallery. The way his pupils dilate with every taste, how he barely takes time to breathe, his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead, he was a damn work of art. Your legs shake as his lips wrap around your clit, sending you tumbling over the edge of your orgasm, feeling his broad shoulders keep your legs from clamping around him. Frankie’s lips don't stop until he’s taken every single bit of your pleasure from you, every single moan, whine, and quiver of your body spurring him on. 

“Mine.” He practically purrs against your skin, collecting the last of your arousal on his tongue before pressing a kiss to the inside of your thigh “All mine.”

You aren’t sure if your brain has caught up with the pleasure you were just subjected to, not that there was a single complaint from you. “Hi,” your voice is still slightly raspy, both with sleep and pleasure, when you manage to form a coherent sentence “when’d you get home?” You mumble, hand raking through his soft curls.

“Mmm, ‘bout 45 minutes ago” he hums, glancing at the clock on the side table which now reads 11:09 while his cheek rests on your stomach, planting the occasional kiss on the soft skin. “missed you today baby.” You feel your heart melting at his words. No matter how often he says it, which is very often, you always feel special just knowing that you were on his mind 

“I missed you more” you grin at him, knowing how much he hates when you try to one-up him. You hear a grumble come out of his mouth and feel him nip at your hip bone, making you squeak slightly 

“Never, baby.” he whispers, tongue soothing over the bite he just left on you. “Not a damn chance in the world of that.”

 You were honestly too tired to argue with him at this point, simply letting out a non committal hum and closing your eyes. They peek open after a moment when he lets out a quiet moan against your skin “baby..?” you ask softly, eyelids heavy.  

He grunts, his hips rutting against the soft sheets, his cock aching after getting to taste you “go back to sleep baby..” he groans “gonna stay right here,” he kisses the crease of your thigh “just wanna taste you again.” You barely have time to register his words before his lips find your cunt again, his moans vibrating against your sensitive skin as you let your eyes close again. It was about to be a long night.