#but hes got a soft face and softer eyes and the earrings would round it all out to make him look more delicate than he really is

[monkesupreme]

Youll never see it bc i never draw it, but its important to me that Bruce has pierced ears- he never has anything in them (and hes lucky they just never closed up) but for some events, he will have little studs or earrings to add to his whole Look

[holybibly]

♡ 𝔓𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: Boxer San x ring girl reader x Sugar daddy Seonghwa ♡ 𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You know that being alone with San is like willingly entering a tiger's cage, but maybe that's exactly what you want - to be torn to pieces by him. Or you might help San treat his wounds after a tough fight, even though you know Seonghwa won't approve ♡ 𝔊𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢 / 𝔄𝔲 / 𝔗𝔯𝔬𝔭𝔢: smut, boxing club!au, sugar daddy!au, underground life!au ♡ ℜ𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤: 18+ / 21+ / MDNI ♡ 𝔚𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 14 k ♡ 𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Hard dom! San, hrad/soft daddy Seonghwa, sub!reader, unprotected sex, threesome, daddy kink, lots of sperm, fingering, degrading, pet names, size kink, spanking, hair pulling, squirting, creampie, humiliation, breeding kink, boobs spanking, pussy slapping, dirty talk, face fucking, pussy drunk, overstimulation, oral, double penetration, manhandling, multiple orgasms, сreampie, rough sex, rough oral, power play, praise kink, anal fingering, anal play, wet and dirty, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and more. ♡ 𝔫𝔢𝔱: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity @newworldnet ♡ 𝔄|𝔑: For some reason this has taken longer to write than expected, but as I like to say: I am always worth the wait. I decided to split it into two parts. I hope you will get maximum pleasure, my sugar bunnies ♡ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 at the end of the post.

𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖘 𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖉

Tonight was no different from a dozen other nights at the club. And just like on every other night, you were sure that Choi San was going to leave the boxing ring as the ultimate champion. In truth, it was almost as predictable as the change of seasons. After all, San was the best of the best in the club, but the one thing you couldn't predict was how badly he would get hurt during his fight today. 

San rarely got more than a few obnoxiously looking scratches and abrasions here and there, unlike his opponents, whom the hot, fiendishly handsome boxer would mercilessly turn in the boxing ring into a bloody mess. He was harsh and rough and usually ended the fight before the first round was out, but this time something didn't seem to be going according to plan. 

You watched anxiously as the fight went on, noting the way San spat blood out of his split lip and the way his nose wrinkled up in pain as Wooyoung pressed a damp towel to his dissected eyebrow. There were a lot of scratches and abrasions on his handsome, chiselled face—injuries that you knew he could feel and that he could taste. For a moment, you even wondered if San was going to win this fight, especially when you caught sight of the equally worried-looking Yeosang. 

The blonde, handsome boxer was sinking his teeth into his lower lip, nervously clutching the bloody towel Wooyoung had thrown him after wiping the blood from San's face. His hazel fox eyes were focused on everything that was happening in the ring. Your level of anxiety rose almost to the sky when they heard San's muffled, hoarse groan as his opponent's first flew in under his rib. It made him recoil and go on the defensive. Damn it, he was practically knocked out. 

You couldn't believe what was happening; the crowd was roaring around you, and all you could hear over the overwhelming noise were Wooyoung's loud shouts telling San to get his shit together and show what he could do, and Yeosang's encouraging words, which were much softer and nicer to hear than Woo's profanity. God, you loved him, but he was unnecessarily rude at times; the boy clearly had an attitude. You have no idea what it was that had such an effect on San, but the next second he was throwing a series of sharp, powerful punches that knocked his opponent out. 

It happened so suddenly that you didn't even have time to react as Yeosang scooped you up in his arms and whirled you around, shouting in your ear, "Our boy did it again." And yes, your boy had definitely done it again, just as Seonghwa had predicted earlier in the night before he slapped you on the backside and sent you off to work: "My tiger never loses.

As soon as all the commotion in the main hall had died down and you were able to free yourself from Yeosang's tenacious and tight embrace, you went straight to the backstage area to find San. You had to make sure that he was alright, and in the meantime, you had to congratulate him on another victory. After all, San was the main star of the evening and deserved a nice word or two from you, even if things weren't exactly smooth between the two of you. 

It wasn't that you didn't like him or that you had conflicts; no, he was a nice enough guy, if you could put it that way. Maybe you could even put up with his perpetual cheeky grin and his complete lack of filters if it wasn't for the heavy sexual tension that crackled between you like electricity. 

It was no secret that San found you fuckable and wanted to have sex with you, as he reminded you every time you spoke to him. He was always shamelessly eye-fucking you, with a total disregard for any decency or the presence of Seonghwa around you. Maybe you wouldn't have noticed; after all, you were used to the fact that all the boys in the club had pretty sharp edges and dirty mouths, if it wasn't for your attraction to him. 

Sometimes you find it so hard to resist the urge to kiss him or ride his cock. Especially after you caught him fucking one of the ring girls in the changing room after another fight. You literally froze in the doorway as you watched him pulling her hard and deeply on his cock, looking right at you with a devilish grin on his face. His whole look seemed to be screaming at you: "It could have been you." That night, you had to ask Seonghwa to be a lot more brutal and rough with you in order to calm that annoying itch of jealousy that was inside of you. Maybe, just maybe, San was absolutely right. You wanted to be in her shoes, but you'd never admit it to yourself, let alone to San. 

"San!" You call out the dark-haired, handsome man's name, noting his slim figure in the hustle and bustle of the backstage area. He turns his head slightly in your direction as he interrupts his conversation with Mingi, another smoking hot and unacceptably handsome boxer. Mingi has only recently joined the club but has already made a name for himself both in the ring and between the sheets. If the rumours are true, he fucks as well as smears his opponents on the floor. Like San, he has never been defeated, if that means anything. San gives you a licentiously grin and gazes at your figure with a dark, hungry stare before he gives Mingi a friendly pat on the shoulder and begins to walk in your direction. 

He reminds you of a great big cat of prey—elegant and graceful, but also so deadly. San is literally smouldering with sexuality, with all those seductive muscles and all that overbearing aura that literally draws the eyes of others to his person. His gym shorts hang so dangerously low that you can see a subtle, exquisite tattoo on his pronounced V-line. San is still shirtless—sweaty and dirty, the inky purple bruises already beginning to spread beneath the smooth golden skin of his pumped-up chest, and you swear you're looking precisely at them and not at the way the silver piercings in his nipples glisten. 

As soon as he is next to you, your hands automatically go up to his wounded face and gently wrap the palms of your hands around it, turning his head from side to side so that you can see the extent of his injuries. San just grins, lets you do whatever you want to him, and looks at you with heavy bedroom eyes. You look beautiful, fuckable, and fucking attractive. It's even funny the way his body immediately reacts to your presence next to him, his cock starting to tighten under the fabric of his gym shorts. 

Or is it all the residual adrenaline that is still circulating in his bloodstream after tonight's fight? Who knows? 

As the pad of your thumb presses against the deep cut on his lower lip, San hisses like a cat. 

"You should get those wounds attended to. They don't look well.' Your voice is full of concern as you continue to run your fingers carefully over the abrasions and scratches on his face. The smooth, golden skin of his sharp, high cheekbones was irritated, and purple bruises were beginning to form underneath. You could even see tiny drops of clotted blood where it had been torn. But even with all that, San still looked pretty damn attractive, which was almost a crime in your opinion. 

"You're so worried about me, baby doll, huh? How about you give me a kiss to make it all better?' San cheekily wraps his strong arms around your waist and pulls you close to his hot body, so unacceptably close that your breasts are pressed tightly against his naked muscular chest, and you have to stand up on your tiptoes so that you can face him. "I want my victory kiss, baby." San whispers in a sultry, hoarse voice into your skin, his hot, moist breath flowing over your cheeks, and from this a shameful, excited blush spreads across them. His hands slipping from your waist to wrap them around your buttocks instead, gripping them tightly with the palms of his hands and causing your already short satin shorts to rise even higher. 

You swallow unconsciously as the image of him fucking that girl in the changing room comes back to you, just like that, squeezing her buttocks in his hands as she rode on his cock. 

'Get a room.' One of the staff members shouts, and you're jolted out of your mental stupor in an instant, resting your hands on San's strong shoulders and moving slightly away from him to create some semblance of space between your bodies. 

"I'm being serious, San. If you don't, there'll be infection in your wounds.' You insist, wriggling slightly in his strong grip. He's still so damned close to you, you can feel his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. 

You can smell the faint scent of sandalwood and vanilla on his skin, still hot from the fight, damp and glistening with sweat and oil. San squeezes your buttocks once hard with his hands before he begins to knead the plump, soft flesh in the palms of his hands, and you practically moan at it, barely managing to sink your teeth into your lower lip in time to keep the shameful, lingering sound from escaping your throat. 

"I've seen this before and it was disgusting, you don't want scars on your pretty face, do you? I can get Wooyoung or Yeosang to help, or one of the girls..." You babble on as his hands continue to massage your bottom. San has the good conscience to look completely disinterested in what you're saying - his head is tilted sideways, his feline eyes dark and smouldering with desire, and you notice the tip of his tongue tracing his swollen lower lip. His nose wrinkles slightly as he touches the fresh wound. 

"Pretty face, huh?" San gave you a cheeky grin and deep, sweet dimples appeared on his cheeks, which, to be honest, you hated because it made you feel completely weak and soft in the face of his charms. The contrast between how vulgar and coarse he was when he talked and how soft and gentle his dimples were when he smiled just made you go crazy. Damned you, Choi San, you and your stupid, attractive dimples. "You could just kiss that pretty face; I'm sure your slutty, sweet lips could do it better, couldn't you, baby doll?' He tilted his head to the side as if pondering something before a devilish spark flashed in his cat-like, slanted eyes, which, as you know, doesn't bode well for you. "But if you're so worried about me, dollface, why don't you do it yourself? I'm sure you'll give me professional service." 

There is some context to his words, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out what San is alluding to. The time how efficiently you sucked Yunho's huge thick dick, after his fight, but it happened to be randomised, and you weren't in the habit of screwing every boxer in the club, especially after you started dating Seonghwa, or rather after he made you his sugar baby. 

"You jerk..." You nudge him lightly in the shoulder and purse your glossy pink lips in a resentful pout. 'You don't have to be so rude to me." You practically squeal as San suddenly picks you up under your arse and lifts you up in such a way that you have no choice but to wrap your legs around his slender, slutty waist. Your arms are automatically wrapped around his neck, and your faces are in an unacceptably close proximity to each other. Someone whistles loudly, but you don't pay attention. You're too mesmerised by the deep chocolate colour of San's eyes and the way his long, fluffy eyelashes flutter. 

"You don't know how rougher I can get with you, Dollface, but I can assure you that you're going to love every second of it. In fact, I'm pretty sure you'll be coming back to me for more of it." His lips touch the hot, flushed skin on the side of your cheek, and you give a soft moan as his fingers dig into your buttocks. 

"You are too cocky for your own good, and I already have someone else to fuck.' You argue weakly, unconsciously tangling your fingers in his soft dark hair, causing San to blissfully cover his eyes as if he were a cat that had been petted by his owner.

"Oh, believe me, I know who's fucking you, angel." He emphasises the nickname, knowing full well that's what Seonghwa likes to call you. "And I don't mind sharing you if it means I can finally get my dick in that pussy of yours." San is practically purring; the sound of his deep, seductive voice is vibrating in his chest, and you can feel it in your body. "I know you want it as much as me. Do you remember when you caught me in the changing room with that girl? I had you on my mind, baby doll, and while I was fucking her, I was thinking about your sweet pussy squeezing around my cock. All I could think of was how you were squirting on my face as I fucked your tiny hole with my tongue.' 

'San! How much longer are we going to wait for you?" A loud scream from Wooyoung brings you back to reality, and your eyes widen as you finally realise where you and San are at the moment and how his filthy words plunged you into a state of trance. Shit, you should use your head and start thinking with your brain instead of your cunt. 

But it's so hard to do that when San is a walking threat to your restraint and decency. It was easy for you to imagine all the things he'd just been talking about, and that slutty, dirty, yet seductive image made the delicate folds of your pussy wet.

"I'll be there in a minute!" San calls back, lowering you gently to your feet and eventually removing his hands from your body. You immediately take a few steps back, still a little stunned by your interaction with him. But San doesn't seem to want to let you out of his arms, so he wraps his palms around your face and forces you to look at him. "Listen to me, babydoll; be a good girl and wait for me in my room. Got it? I'll try and get back to you as soon as I can." For a moment you feel the soft, warm touch of his lips on your forehead, almost making you melt, but it disappears as quickly as it came.

'But...' You begin, wondering what you should do, knowing that if you're alone with San, nothing good will come of it, and besides, you already had plans for tonight. 'I don't know if I should...' 

"Baby, I didn't ask you." He turns and starts walking towards Wooyoung and the other boys waiting for him. As if he remembered something, San stops abruptly, looks back at you over his shoulder, and grins mischievously. 

"You still have to treat my wounds, doll face, remember? You don't want any scars on my pretty face, do you?" San casts a last dark, hungry glance over your body before bossy ordering you. "Now go, doll. Daddy will be back soon."

And he walks away, leaving you staring in his wake, your head a complete mess and your pussy absolutely wet and trembling with anticipation. 

Shit, you seem to have a problem, and its name is Choi San. 

For the umpteenth time recently, you find yourself looking at the large wall clock in San's private room. The smooth mechanical movement of the long time hand on the dial is unnerving, and the slight, intrusive ticking is annoying. It does nothing to calm your inner nervousness at all; on the contrary, it makes it even more obvious. You bite down on the pad of your thumb, a stupid, almost childish habit that you can't seem to get rid of, and fidget in the soft leather seat of the massive armchair that you've settled into while you wait for San. It's been over an hour since you and he parted ways, and it looks like the handsome boxer is in no hurry to get back to you soon. 

You don't know if he's doing it on purpose—torture you by making you sit here and obediently wait for him like the return of Jesus—or if he's really busy with some business, but one thing you were absolutely sure of—San knew very well that you had to be somewhere else tonight, or rather with someone else. And it was not good for you at all that you were still not warming Seonghwa's luxurious silk bed in his mansion with your naked body. Maybe your relationship with Seonghwa wasn't right and romantic, but you didn't want to lose him, and there was something special about him—dark and magnetic and lecherous—that made you addicted to him. And it wasn't just his money or that absolutely amazing long tongue he used to expertly and efficiently fuck your pussy every night until you whimpered and begged him to stop.

But to deny how much you wanted San to fuck your brains out was just a stupid thing to do. And you knew firsthand that San could take you straight to heaven. After all, he was not only Fight Club's golden boy but also had a golden cock he knew how to use perfectly.  

You were so deep in thought, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, that you almost didn't notice when the heavy front door opened and San walked into the room. As always, his presence brings with it that intense, suffocating aura of power and smouldering sexuality and that raw, almost animal magnetism of his nature that draws you to him on some inexplicable, instinctive level, making you focus all your attention on him immediately. 

"Don't make such a sweet face, baby. It just makes me want to kiss you more than I already do..." San purrs sultrily as he stretches out on the leather couch in front of you. Leaning his head back as he covers his cat-like eyes and adds hoarsely, barely whispering. 'Or fuck this lovely plump mouth...' 

"Can you be nice to me for once?' You purse your rose-coloured plump lips reluctantly, and you look at his figure with a frown. He's still just as sweaty and dirty as you've seen him before, but now his bruises have taken on a darker hue, spreading purple and dark blue ink under his damp, golden skin. 

It looks really painful and unpleasant, and even with the way he's treating you, you don't want San to get hurt, so you sigh heavily, reminding yourself that you really don't have time for all this drama, and get up from your seat to walk over to the small dresser where San keeps his first aid kit, and grab some alcohol, ointment, and bandages from there to help treat the wounds. 

A silence hangs between the two of you for a few seconds, more tense than uncomfortable, but it's not that that makes you stop what you're doing; it's what San is saying to you. 

"But you do have a taste for rough treatment, don't you, angel?" He emphasises your nickname again, pronouncing it like it's some kind of dirty swear word, and you could swear you can hear the venomous notes in his usually honeyed, smooth voice. 

You turn your head over your shoulder and take in the sight of San, now looking at you from under his dishevelled, damp fringe with eyes so dark and intense you feel uncomfortable and quickly turn away, continuing to rummage through the first aid kit for ointment. 

"This is different, San, and you know it very well." When you finally find the ointment you need, you slam the first aid kit down harder than necessary and turn to face him again. San is still drilling into you with his gaze as he pokes the tip of his tongue into the corner of his bruised, plump lower lip, his mouth curling up slightly as he accidentally touches the deep fissure. The plush, soft flesh was horribly red and swollen where it had been torn, but San still looked hot as hell.

"Come on, doll, just say it; you let him treat you like this because he's fucking you."

You swallow the sharp words that are on the tip of your tongue and decide that today is not the day to poke the tiger with a stick. Instead, you just walk over to him, stand between his spread long legs, and with exaggerated roughness, wrap your arms around his chin, lifting his face slightly so that he's looking at you. With deliberate pettiness, you press an alcohol-soaked cotton ball to his split eyebrow without any previous tenderness. He hisses and wrinkles against the burning sensation as the alcohol penetrates deep into the wound, disinfecting it in the process. 

"And who's the rough one now, huh, baby doll?" His hands curl around your hips, and his fingers dig into the juicy, soft flesh where your tiny shorts end—just below your ample buttocks. His touch is a little bit painful, a little bit too possessive for your taste, but still you can't say that you don't like it. You hate to admit what San's right about you—you like it rougher, especially in the bedroom.

"I'm just paying you with the same coin, Sannie." You press the cotton ball even harder against the swollen, deep cleavage and pull the hoarse, hissing sound out of his chest once more. 'That's how you're going to get treated for being so...' You start, but San doesn't let you finish, abruptly pulling you closer by your hips, forcing you to take a step forward to keep yourself from falling on top of him. 

"So handsome, so hot, so sexy..." San enumerates as he slides his hands up your thighs until the big palms of his hands are completely around your buttocks, greedily squeezing the supple, meaty flesh. 

'Brute.' You finish, and finally remove the cotton wool soaked in alcohol from his wound to put some ointment on it in its place. You try to ignore the way San looks at you with his heavy bedroom eyes. He sensually kneads your arse in his palms while you gently apply the ointment to his dissected eyebrow with the cotton bud. "And would you stop pawing at my bum for just a second, please?" "If that's what you really want, sweetheart." San purrs sensuously as he looks at you through the lace of his long eyelashes with the dark, seductive gaze of his slanted cat eyes. Despite his words, he doesn't stop caressing you; instead, he digs his fingers deeper into your ample buttocks and pulls them apart slightly, causing you to let out a low, barely audible moan. He doesn't say anything about it, but judging by the way the corners of his plump lips lift up in a dirty, smug grin, revealing sweet, deep dimples on his cheeks, it's exactly the reaction he was hoping for from you. 

You decide to just ignore it, in the full knowledge that San is doing this on purpose to provoke you. Instead, you focus all of your attention on cleaning his wounds as thoroughly as you possibly can and applying salve to each one. Silence falls between you again, punctuated by San's slight cat hissing as you press the alcohol-soaked cotton ball against the particularly deep cuts on his handsome, chiselled face as you continue to carefully remove the dried blood and dirt from them. 

Surprisingly, as it turns out, cleaning someone else's wounds is a very intimate process—you're too close together, so close that you can feel the heat emanating from his body, the sliding, damp warmth of his breath on your bare skin, the weight of his dark, feline gaze fixed on your heaving breasts, which almost fall out of your exaggeratedly deep cleavage with every breath you take. 

You would think that after all this time with San you would be used to how heavy and almost palpable the sexual tension between you was, but today there was something else in the air besides lingering pure desire. There was a subtle change in the air; small electrical charges crackled in space, as if an inescapable tempest was approaching. The storm was on its way, and you weren't sure if you would be able to survive it, especially with the way your body was responsively reacting to San.

The longer this goes on, the harder it will be for you to control the viscous, searing sensation of excitement that's spreading through your body and becoming more and more tangible to you with each passing second.

You have already been so wet for him—the warm, viscous moisture pools between your legs and coats your folds in a clear, sticky glaze. And it won't come as a surprise to you at all if you see a big wet spot on your silk panties, from how much your pussy is oozing at the moment.

You're almost done with the treatment of his wounds; all you have to do is clean the deep cut on his lower lip, and then you can finally get out of here and hurry back to Seonghwa. You gently lift his face by his chin to make it a little more comfortable for you to do so, when all of a sudden San grabs hold of your wrist.

"Kiss me." His words take your breath away; a palpable shiver runs through your whole body, and you squirm a little under the intensity of his gaze. 

'Sorry, what?' You're stupidly questioning you., hoping that San will reduce it to a cheeky, dirty joke as he always does, but it doesn't happen. 

"You heard me clearly, Y/N." San's voice is full of an emotion you can't quite describe, but whatever it is, it makes your pussy clench in anticipation. 

"San, I...you know I can't do that."

'Just one kiss, Gongjunim. Just one.' He tilts his head slightly to the side and looks at you with those seductive, heavy, bedroom eyes of his. San squeezes your wrist even tighter, pulling you closer to him until his face pressed against your belly. "Come on, doll face, give me a kiss. Think of it as rewarding me for winning. Don't you think the winner deserves a kiss?' His purring voice sends electric charges in your lower abdomen, triggering feelings that you're not sure you're ready to deal with at the moment. "Just one kiss...' San begins plants wet, short kisses on the strip of bare skin between your short top and your shorts. 

You're completely silent for a few moments, mentally weighing the pros and cons as San continues to plant wet, insistent, open-mouthed kisses on the soft skin of your stomach. A slight shiver of excitement runs down your spine as you feel him slowly run his tongue over the places where the hickeys he's left behind, his lingering, dissolute kisses, and which you're sure Seonghwa won't be happy to see on you, have already started to turn purple. 

But even so, you don't try to stop him, and you let San do whatever he wants. You know that he won't let go of you so easily for this once, and that he can be so stubborn when he wants something badly or needs something certain, and maybe, just maybe, right now you need the same thing as San. All this tension between you was so palpable that you could almost taste it on your tongue—a little bit bitter, a little bit sweet, sharp and lingering, like a kiss after hot sex. 

Just one kiss... what could be wrong with that? You're just going to taste it; you're convincing yourself. Just let it taste...

"Okay.' You say at last, and you feel his lips curl up in a victorious grin. 

He pulls his handsome face away from your belly and lifts his languid, feline gaze to you. And you hate the way it makes you catch your breath every time, as far as intense and dark his gaze is. San's eyes are predator's eyes—sharp, hungry, and burning; they're the eyes of a big cat on the hunt. A tiger's eyes, having found its prey. Eyes that you will never be able to forget. His lips are parted a little, and before he can say a word, you are one step ahead of him.

"Just one kiss, San. Nothing more. Do you have my meaning?" You wish that your voice would sound more demanding, but instead there's an uncertainty and a slight nervousness in it that is just as clear to San as it is to you. "I'm serious, San, one kiss." It's practically stupid, and you're not at all sure whether you're saying it to San or to yourself. 

'Whatever you want, my angel.' He leans back on the back of the couch, relaxed, with a smug grin on his face. There it is again—that damn nickname—what's a jerk after all. "Come on, Dolly, come to me." San runs the broad palms of his hands over his muscular, luscious thighs, letting you know exactly where he wants you to be. You let out a heavy sigh and, irritated, toss the cotton ball full of alcohol and the rest of the ointment into the bin next to the couch before you awkwardly sit down on his lap.

As soon as you are sitting on San's lap, his hands are on your waist, digging their fingers into the soft flesh and squeezing it roughly, only to pull you even closer to him. So close that there is almost no space between your bodies. You can feel the heat emanating from his body, the warm, thick smell of perfume and smoke enveloping you and settling in your lungs with every breath you take, and before you know what you're doing, you're pressing your hips harder against his crotch, feeling how hard San has already been for you. 

Your hands automatically come to rest on his naked, muscular chest, and you dig your nails into it lightly, leaving angry red crescent marks on his moist, sun-kissed skin. San mooed in satisfaction, welcoming the painful sensation of your nails on his body, and you almost groaned in response. Just when you thought he couldn't get any hotter, Choi San rushed over to prove that the opposite was true. 

"Are you happy now?" You want to sound annoyed and displeased, pouting your plump lips, which are shining with a thick, candy pink gloss, and rolling your eyes at him. But the way San looks at you, the way his hands lazily caress the curve of your waist and hips, makes you practically tremble with excitement, making you fold like origami for him. Why does he have to be so... so damn hot? Your skin burns under his touch, and the viscous, sticky wetness between your legs becomes more intense by the minute. 

"I'm more than happy, doll. But don't pretend it's just me; it's about time you admitted you want this as much as I do. You like it all, my little slutty angel. Don't you?" San purrs sultrily and pushes his hips up a little, causing a deep, long moan to escape from your throat. His hard cock touches your aching clit as he moves against you, pressing his crotch harder against your clothed pussy. 

And frankly, your skimpy shorts and the thin silk panties you wore especially for Seonghwa today do little to diminish the sharp sensation of pleasure coursing through you. Unconsciously, you move your hips to him and rub your pussy against his cock, desperate for more of this delightful stimulation. The contact has been so pleasurable that your hole is clenching around nothing, spurting out even more of your juices and making you moan once more.

"It turns out that all I had to do to get you to moan for me was to put you on my lap." San slaps you hard on the plump buttock and squeezes it together roughly with his big, wiry hand. "Too easy." There's so much arrogance and smugness in his voice that it makes you want to punch him right in the face. 

'No, it's not...' Even to yourself, what you're saying sounds completely meaningless. You look at his chiselled face, perfect except for the cut marks and a few small bruises, at those bold, plump lips that are stretched in a devilish grin, at those sweet dimples, and at those damn seductive cat eyes, full of lust and desire. And now San looks more attractive to you than ever—dangerously attractive. So much so that it almost makes you forget about Seonghwa... 

"What did I tell you about that sweet expression on your face?' San growls in a low voice. One of his hands grabs you roughly by the back of the head and suddenly pulls you closer to him than you ever thought possible, almost pushing your faces into each other. "You are driving me crazy; do you know that, doll?' He presses his forehead against yours, and your lips are only a millimetre apart. His palm squeezes your neck in a possessive way, and the sound that comes out of you is something between a sob and a moan. The sudden, abrupt movement causes you to press even harder against his cock, and the sensation sends a pulse of pleasure through your clit. 

 Before you have a chance to answer him, San's soft lips are meeting yours in an insistent, hungry kiss. His mouth is so aggressive and demanding; his tongue glides over your lower lip and presses against it. His fingers dig into your neck, turning the touch into a rough grip, holding you in place, but there's no need; you already feel so soft and supple to him that you willingly lean into him, wrapping your arms around his strong neck and tangling your fingers in his thick hair, gently pulling the soft strands at the roots. The deep, vibrating moan that San lets out reminds you of the contented purr of a huge cat. 

His skilful tongue forces your lips apart and quickly penetrates the inside of your mouth, and you shudder at the sensual sensation as he runs it over your palate, licking the inside of your cheeks and wrapping it around your own tongue. It must look disgusting from the outside—the kiss is rough and dirty, full of tongues and teeth, but you're enjoying it immensely and moaning lustfully against San's lips at the hot need growing inside you. 

That's all... Hell, you don't even know how to put it into words. You've been wanting to kiss San ever since you saw him for the first time in the club—dishevelled, hot, all sweaty and battered after his first victorious fight, but so impossibly attractive. You wanted to do it tonight, right after the referee announced that he'd won, and San smiled at you dazzlingly, showing you those sweet, deep dimples you'd always secretly wanted to lick. And you want to kiss him every damn time he's within arm's length of you. Hell, you want to kiss him all the time, over and over again, until you finally satisfy that hunger that's gnawed at your insides for so long. 

San pulls your plump lower lip into his moist, warm mouth and gives it a rough sucking before he lets it go with a loud 'pop'. His tongue immediately licks your ajar lips, coating them with his saliva, and it's just unbearable. How on earth are you going to get away from him when he kisses you like that? 

"Look at you, Dolly, you're savouring this so much. I bet your sweet, tight cunt is so wet right now. Isn't it?" San whispers in a husky voice before he runs his tongue over your lips once more. "Don't you want to run away from me yet, angel?"

'Just shut up.' You hiss at him before you let him pull you into another kiss that is even deeper and dirtier than the last. Your hips are rocking back and forth, and you are rubbing your needy pussy against his hard cock as San is literally fucking your mouth with his skilful tongue.

You're furious with him. And you're angry that San is absolutely right about you—you love the whole damn thing, so much so that your pussy flows like a waterfall for him, ready and needing him to fill it with his cock and cum until it pours out of you. But most of all, you're angry with yourself, which makes you roll your hips over him even more aggressively and makes you both moan into each other's mouths. 

You know that you shouldn't be here, you know that this is going to end badly, and you have absolutely no time to sit on San's lap and let him explore your mouth with his tongue while you dry hump him—and yet you can't bring yourself to leave. Not in the slightest bit. Your willpower is nothing compared to Choi San.

San begins to kiss you even more furiously, biting your lips almost to the point of bleeding. He's so passionate—he licks your mouth with his tongue and literally shoves it down your throat, making it almost impossible for you to breathe. He kisses you like he's dying of thirst, and you're the only way he can fix it. And if San eats pussy the same way he kisses you now, you're not sure you can handle it at all.

Your phone suddenly beeps, alerting you to a new message, and the obnoxious, loud sound finally brings you to your senses. You pull away from San's tantalising, greedy lips, trying to catch your breath and get your thoughts straightened out as he continues to kiss your cheeks and chin lazily. 

"I have to go now.' You say softly, to which San just mooed in agreement, as if to say, 'Go on, I won't hold you back', but his lips never leave your skin for a second, and his broad, slightly calloused palm still grips your neck tightly from behind. "I shouldn't be here with you... Seonghwa... he's waiting for me at home, you know." You sound so weak, and to be honest, not convincing even to yourself, let alone San, and the handsome boxer doesn't try to make it easier for you. 

He lets go of your neck just long enough to run his fingers over your flushed, pretty face before wrapping them tightly around your chin and tilting your head slightly to the side so that your eyes meet his slanted, feline eyes that are clouded with lust. His gaze is so intense, so searing, that it makes you want to turn away from him. San is looking at you as if he's watching how his fingers are penetrating you, slowly and deeply, stretching your tight hole while you're languidly jerking him off. It's an intimate gaze, too palpably sexual. 

San lets out a dark chuckle, full of the most lewd and dirty promises, as he presses his fingers against the edges of your mouth before squeezing it until your plump lips form a silly "duck" shape. A smug, victorious expression was frozen on his face, and he poked the tip of his tongue into the corner of his swollen lips. You can't say a word; all your thoughts are scattered into the dark corners of your mind like cockroaches when a light is turned on.

"I guess you're already late, baby." Genuine amusement glitters in his eyes, and he lets go of you, instead leaning back on the back of the couch as if he were a king. Such an abrupt change in his behaviour is a source of confusion to you.

'What are you...' You don't have time to finish your sentence before the door to the room flings open, letting in the sound of loud, cheerful voices and the deafening roar of music. You almost have the urge to snap at the person who has dared to interrupt your moment with San, but instead you freeze as the room is again engulfed in silence and the only thing you can hear is the clicking sound of high heels and the thunderous beating of your heart echoing in your ears. You freeze like a deer in the headlights as you realise who those high heels belong to, and judging by the devilishly smug grin on San's face, you're not wrong in your guess. 

"Ah, there you are, my beautiful little angel...' Seonghwa's purring voice is nothing more than solid darkness wrapped in velvet, and the sound of it sends goosebumps up your arms and makes everything inside of you twist into a tight knot of fear and excitement. 

Your senses are a mess, and you're torn between wanting to burst into tears and wanting to rub your cunt against San's cock again, even more desperate now that Seonghwa's appearance has unleashed a new wave of lust in you, even more intense than before. God, the way your body is reacting to the presence of this man next to you is simply beyond any explanation. It was so wild and yet so exhilarating, and perhaps deep down inside you were a complete masochist as you took such incredible pleasure out of it all.

Your nightmare was coming true as he walked leisurely towards you and San, his hands in the pockets of his designer trousers, causing the hem of his luxurious, expensive fur coat to flutter open, revealing the translucent top that covered his torso like a second skin. If San had made you feel like a frightened bunny cornered by a predator, then Seonghwa made you feel like some kind of dark deity was keeping his all-seeing eye on you. 

You were completely frozen in your seat—practically out of breath, still in the same compromising position—your pussy pressed tightly against San's thick, hard cock through your clothes as his hand continued to sensuously knead your plump, juicy buttocks. 

When Seonghwa is at arm's length from you, deceptively gentle, he runs his fingers through your hair before he tangles his fingers in the long, silky strands and jerks your head backwards, causing you to arch your back and let out a long, hard moan. Damn, you love it when he's so bossy and rough with you.

"Or are you nothing more than a fucking needy slut today, eh? Look at you, keeping your daddy waiting while you rub your slutty cunt all over San's cock." You gasp at the deliciously painful sensation of his fingernails lightly scraping the skin of your scalp as he pulls harder on the long, silky strands of your hair. To be honest, you don't know how to answer him, or rather, what kind of answer would satisfy Seonghwa, so you just remain silent, sinking your teeth into your kiss-swollen lower lip and looking up at him with big, clouded with desire eyes.

"Oh, she is definitely the ultimate slut. You missed a lot, Hwa; the way she rode me just a few minutes ago was quite a sight. And her sweet cunt is soaking wet; I can feel it even through her shorts and panties. I have no doubt that her tight little hole is literally dripping with slime right now." San purrs and slaps your bottom hard, making the soft, plump flesh jiggle, and you whimper pitifully at the sharp, tingling sensation of the burn on your tender skin. Even if you are not in the best position now, a hot wave of dark pleasure washes over your entire body, making your cunt quiver in anticipation of what's to come.

"Well, so..." Seonghwa says carelessly, tugging at your hair once more before he unclenches his fingers and abruptly lets go of your strands, causing your head to swing involuntarily and you to whimper softly. You watch as he turns on his heels and walks over to the chair you had been sitting in and sits in it elegantly, as if on a throne. He looks unbelievable, wicked, and smouldering with dark sexuality, swathed in expensive fur, and with his legs spread wide, you want to crawl over and bury your face in his cock. Hwa is stretched out in his chair, leaning back into the soft backrest and staring at you with heavy siren eyes. 

You have no idea at all what's going on here. Shouldn't Seonghwa be furious about this? You're literally sitting on another man's cock, and not just any man, but Choi San, the golden boy of the Fight Club that Hwa owns, your panties and shorts soaked through and your lips so swollen and covered in saliva and remnants of thick candy pink gloss that it looks like you've been selflessly sucking cock for hours, not just kissing. And all your incredibly possessive and bossy sugar daddy does is sit back in his chair and stare at you as if he's sitting in the front row of a fashion show. 

"Since you say so, San. I guess you have to show me how slutty my angel can be." Seonghwa's voice is nothing but solid darkness, wrapped in velvet. He emphasises the word 'my', and for the first time in a long while, you can hear the venom in his words. Outwardly, he may look and act completely indifferent, maybe even a little bored, but inside he's seething with jealousy at how much you're enjoying San and how he's touching you. "Don't let my presence distract you; just pick up where you left off."

'What?' You blink dumbly at him, your brain so clouded with lust and need that you are unable to process the words he has just said properly. 

"You heard me, angel, keep on fucking." Seonghwa just tilts his head to the side, looks at you with siren eyes, and licks his plump, kissable lips in a sensual way. You swallow loudly at this sight, because that's the way he usually looks at you when he's devouring your pussy or fucking you deep, throwing your legs over his shoulders and thrusting his hips into you with such force that the back of the bed hits the wall with every thrust and his tight balls slap against your plump, soft buttocks, making the skin on them blush angrily red and tingle slightly. In front of your mind's eye, you instantly flash back to this morning, when Seonghwa gave you the same siren's gaze that he's giving you right now, as he tickled your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue and stretched your hole with two long fingers.

'But... Seonghwa... I...' Your voice is hardly louder than a whisper when you speak. "Aren't you... Aren't you upset?" It embarrasses you so much, but at the same time you can't deny how much the thought of Seonghwa watching you while San fucks you is getting you excited.

"Oh, my little angel, aren't you a sweetie, eh?" Seonghwa gives a dark chuckle. He bites the tip of his index finger in a playful way and tilts his head to the side, looking up at you through his long, fluffy eyelashes.

You always loved how playful he could be with you at times, but at the moment it was more frightening than comforting, for you knew very well that his playfulness could go far beyond the limits of normalcy, and it never ended well.

"And what makes you think that I should be upset, my love?" His voice drops to a dangerous, dark purr, and this sound pierces you, sending signals straight to your needy pussy, causing more of your sticky, sweet juices to spill out. "Maybe it's because you're practically shoving your slutty cunt right in San's face? I bet your pussy is dripping wet and throbbing with the need to be filled with his  cock." He says it so casually and simply, and somehow it's so fucking hot that you don't know what you want more—to beg him for forgiveness or to fuck you silly.

Seonghwa slowly runs his tongue over his sensual, luscious lips, and this movement is so practised and deliberate that it sends shivers down your spine.

"But you know what, Angel? Daddy would do anything for you, and if you want to fuck him, then go right ahead and do it. You can ride his cock all day long; I don't give a shit. Because once he's fucked you, you'll come crawling back to me because you know you belong to me and me alone."

Seonghwa's words barely get through to you. You can see the way his stunning, perfectly sculpted lips move when he speaks; you can hear the velvety quality of his voice, but you still can't quite make out their meaning. 

Your mind is reminded of cotton candy—fluffy and airy, deliciously sweet, and melting with excitement. You shift your confused gaze from Seonghwa to San, hoping that the handsome boxer will clear your thoughts a little, but instead all you get is a sinful, predatory grin and the look of his seductive, half-closed eyes piercing through you and promising you a straight shot to paradise. 

It was enough to make your blood boil with desire. Your excitement was so obvious to them, almost palpable, and despite this humiliating fact, the thrill that fluttered in your lower belly and sent goosebumps of heat between your juicy thighs intensified even more.

‘I don't know...It's all so... complicated...' A quiet sob escapes from your throat as San grabs you by the throat and pushes his hips up, causing his hard cock to rub against your clit in the most delightful way. His hand clenches harder on your neck, causing you to gasp from the sudden lack of air. Your eyes roll up at the rough, possessive grip, and you unconsciously roll your hips over him, your throbbing, swollen clit pressed tightly against his hard cock. San's eyes narrow, and he curses under his breath when he sees how fucked you already look. He thrusts his hips into you again, and this action completely shuts down any rationality in your thinking. 

"I don't think so, doll." San whispers in a devilish voice, pressing his hot lips to your shoulder and leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses there; your skin melts under his touch, making you moan and wriggle even harder in his lap. "Just say yes, baby; that's all you need. You want this so badly, don't you?" San's silky voice slides over your body as if he's licking it with his tongue. He continues persistently to coax you into giving in to temptation, making your skin crawl, and as his teeth dig lightly at your collarbone, your brain finally loses all contact with reality, and you give in, letting your lust take control of you.

"Yes, I want to." You squeakily out, but San's hand around your neck makes the sound distorted and broken. 'Please.' You add even more softly. And apparently that's exactly what they wanted, because the next moment the handsome boxer suddenly releases your throat, and you begin to gasp slightly as air begins to flow freely into your lungs again.

"There you go, such a good girl." San purrs, and that guttural, silky sound vibrates against your skin, making you shiver with excitement. You try to get your breathing back to a normal rhythm by taking slow, deep breaths. Your head is a little dizzy, and you are about to fall to the floor, stumbling on your wobbly, shaky legs as San pushes you off his lap and forces you to stand right in front of him. 

You stare at him in confusion, not understanding why he would push you away when just a few minutes ago he was the one rubbing his cock all over your pussy and urging you to fuck him. But San just lifts his split eyebrow at you in silence and smiles mischievously, looking at you with his heavy bedroom eyes, as if his facial expression should have told you everything you needed to know. 

"What... what am I supposed to do?" It comes out almost shyly, as if you weren't the one dry humping another guy in front of your sugar daddy, and apparently Seonghwa finds it amusing too. You can hear his cheerful, velvety laugh behind your back before he elegantly gets up from his seat and comes back to you and hugs you from behind, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. You almost instantly dissolve into his arms, drowning in the luxurious, expensive fur of his fur coat as he pulls you closer to his body.

"You can be such a fool sometimes, my love; it can't help but amuse me." Seonghwa purrs, leaning down to your face and running the tip of his nose along your rounded, ruddy cheek. "San wants you to show him how good a slut you can be for him and how beautiful you look on your knees with a cock in your mouth. I'm sure that's been on his mind ever since he saw you giving Yunho a blowjob in the locker room, isn't it?" Hwa whispers into your ear, and you see San's eyes narrow dangerously as he says it, going even darker, and you could swear you see something utterly evil flashing in those deep chocolate irises. Oh, Seonghwa seems to have hit a nerve, and you know full well that he did it on purpose.

“Of course I did, Hwa. How could I not have thought of that? Dolly was quite a sight, so desperate, milking his cock with her mouth, sucking his balls, and lapping up his cum as if her life depended on it. You don't seem to be able to satisfy her appetite enough to keep her from seeking the attention of other men, Seonghwa." Parries San, and you are practically gasping for breath at such blatant insolence. You've never heard of anyone being so openly in Seonghwa's face before, and it's both a delight and a fright to you. 

'You bastard.' Seonghwa hisses at him. You can feel the irritation and anger coming from him, but he still does nothing to stop this game. Instead, he encourages it to continue. His hands let go of your waist, and he placed them on your shoulders instead, squeezing them so hard that you started to go down until you found yourself on your knees between San's spread legs. The handsome boxer's cock is a foot away from your face, and even though you haven't touched it yet, you can see how tight the muscles in his abs and thighs are, taut like steel cables under the golden, wet skin. It was an image that you wanted to stay with you forever. Your palms automatically rested on his inner thighs, and you lightly clenched the fabric of his shorts. "Have fun with her while you still can, San. You may never have the chance to play with my princess again." Hwa says in a mocking tone and strokes your head gently before he gives you a kiss on the top of your head. 

"Oh, trust me, Seonghwa, I will, and when I'm done with her, she won't be able to think of anything else than me." San wraps a hand around his thick, hard cock through the fabric of his shorts, and you swallow loudly, already imagining how heavy and hot it is going to be on your tongue.

"You are overconfident, San, but anyway...' He turns your face towards him to lick your lips with his tongue, coating them with a shiny, thick layer of his saliva. The action, totally dirty and lascivious, is so damn hot, and you instinctively stick your tongue out of your mouth so that Seonghwa can spit on it, which he does. With your eyes glazed over with lust, you watch as your sugar daddy collects the saliva in his mouth and spits it out onto your waiting tongue. He lets out a deep purr at the sight of a thick, viscous drop rolling down your pink tongue, which you immediately swallow with a sweet moan. "Aren't you the prettiest one? Such an obedient slut for your daddy." He licks your lips again, and you reach up in the hope of catching his tongue with your lips and sucking on it, but your desperation only makes him giggle. "You can do that later, my angel; I promise you that. Now give me a good show and work his dick with your hot, slutty mouth." And you obey the order.

Seonghwa moves away from you, leaving you at the mercy of San, and sits back down in his chair, unbuckling the belt on his trousers and beginning to stroke himself slowly. His seductive siren's eyes are uninterruptedly watching your every move. 

As you turn your attention back to San, a pitiful gasp comes from your chest, and you clench your thighs tighter in a futile attempt to reduce your arousal. You feel so small under the weight of that dark, feline gaze of his. His eyes roam over your form, his predatory gaze gliding over every curve of your body before it lingers at your boobs, almost falling out of your top. San's tongue slips out of his mouth, and he slowly licks his wounded lips, leaving a glistening trail of saliva on them. 

"Show me those big plump tits, baby. I want to see them bouncing while I fuck that sweet, doll-like face of yours." San purrs in a sultrily way, and there's a hoarseness to his voice that wasn't there before, but you're too caught up in the sight of San running his thumbs under the elastic of his gym shorts and pulling them down, finally exposing his big, pre-cum oozing cock. The sight of it is the cause of a salivary gush in your mouth.

Your hands reach up and begin to slowly pull the thin straps of your satin top down from your shoulders until your heavy, luscious tits are completely exposed and your top is gathered up at your waist in a useless strip of fabric. San's plump lips curl up in an approving smile, revealing his deep, sweet dimples as he finally gets to see your bare breasts in all their glory. Your fingers slide over your aureoles, your nipples hardening from the pleasurable stimulation, and you gently run your thumb pads over the sensitive, swollen buds, a soft moan of pleasure escaping your parted lips.

"Fuck, baby, you've got such amazing tits, so big, heavy, and so soft. Greatest titties I've ever seen. I want to cum all over your tits; cover them with my sperm. I'll milk your tits dry, Dolly, make you cum from sensations of my mouth on your  nipples." San's voice is full of dark promise, and it makes more and more of the moisture seep out of your trembling hole. He squeezes his cock harder in his broad palm, caressing the thick, throbbing length with a wet squelching sound before he pushes in lightly, making his beautiful, thick thighs tense even more. Hell, his cock is literally dripping with pre-cum; the swollen, reddened head has been covered in a thick layer of glistening, viscous glaze, and you can practically taste the sweet taste of his cum on the tip of your tongue. 

"Do you like my tits that much, San?" You rock your tits gently in the palms of your hands at the feel of their weight. The plump flesh of them barely fits in your hands. 

"So damn much, babe." The sexy boxer lets out a low, husky moan as he continues to pleasure himself. His cock twitches weakly in the palm of his hand as he watches you playing with yourself, massaging your breasts and tweaking your swollen nipples. You could swear that the moaning that comes out of his lips is the hottest you've ever heard, of course after the moaning and whimpering of Seonghwa. You wonder if you'll ever be able to make the temperamental boxer whimper and beg. The thought of San writhing and whimpering under your care as you ride him like a thoroughbred stallion makes a small trickle of sticky fluid flow out of you. 

A velvety moan from behind your back grabs your attention, and for a second you turn your head over your shoulder to take a look at your gorgeous daddy. Seonghwa's overly plump, glossy lips are parted with a lingering, soft moan; his feline, black eyes are clouded with pleasure and slightly out of focus as his graceful hand caresses his beautiful, thick cock. God, you still can't understand how you managed to get the attention of such a gorgeous, sexy man, but that's the last thing you can think about right now. Especially when he brings his long, pre-cum-covered fingers to his lips and smears them over the overly plump, soft flesh before he sticks out his tongue and licks the sticky residue off the delicate appendages. 

Until the last drop of pre-cum disappears into his mouth, Hwa slowly caresses the fingers with his long, expert tongue. The sight of it sends a new wave of heat through your body, and the silky walls of your cunt tremble and become even wetter. The whimper that comes out of you at the sight of this filthy thing is almost pitiful.

"Don't let me distract you, angel. I want to see you sucking him off. I want to see you choking on his big cock as you take him deep down your pretty little throat. Can you do that for Daddy, Angel?" Seonghwa's voice has the sound of melted honey. The sugary tone is such a strong contrast to the dirty, vulgar words that come out of his sensual mouth. And it makes you roll your eyes and let out a loud moan. Hell, he's fucking you without even touching you at all. 

"Yes, yes, daddy. I'll do everything for you. Anything you want me to do.' You squirm slightly in your spot, squeeze your thighs together, and bite your plump lower lip. 

"Such a good girl. Keep playing with San, Angel.' Seonghwa casts his dark, burning gaze over your body one last time, lingering briefly on your swollen, tense nipples before waving his hand at you. He silently commands you to turn away and give your full attention to San. Which you do immediately.

When you turn back to San, you look at him innocently through your fluffy eyelashes, knowing full well the effect it has on men when you know how quickly Seonghwa gets hard when you give him that look of false innocence. And apparently he's not the only one turned on by it, because you can see San's cock twitching in his palm and he hissing in pain or pleasure as he sinks his teeth into the bruised flesh of his lower lip.

"Can I suck your dick...? You stammer slightly now that your game has moved from playful teasing to actual sex, not knowing how to address him right. 

'Daddy, my doll.' The look on San's face is so intense and powerful that it makes your blood boil with the desire to satisfy him in every possible way. "You can call me "Daddy." You hear Seonghwa's sarcastic chuckle behind your back and see San's lips open in response, but you quickly distract him from another verbal altercation with your sugar daddy. 

"So you're going to let me suck you off, Daddy?". You lick your plump lips greedily, glistening with the sticky residue of candy pink glitter and Seonghwa's saliva, running your tongue in deliberately slow motion over the soft flesh and placing your palms on the inside of his thighs. Your face is practically resting on his hard, oozing cock, and you blow lightly on it, causing San to throw his head back, exposing his long, seductive neck with its scattering of freckles and straining, swollen veins, as he rolls his eyes in pleasure. 'Please.' You add as you arch your spine and move your face even closer to his crotch, leaving a light, weightless kiss on the top of his taut balls.

'Fuck, doll.' San growls, grabbing your hair and pulling your face up so you meet his gaze with yours. 'Do you want to taste my cock that badly, baby girl?' His eyebrow lifts in a teasing manner. He wraps his hand around the base of his cock and slaps the swollen, reddening head against your lips. Each time he pulls it away from your mouth, long strands of your drool, mixed with pre-cum, stretch from your lips to his cock. 

"Yes, Daddy, I want it so badly. Let me taste your cock; I want to feel it on my tongue, in my throat. Please, Daddy, please." You spread your legs slightly, and the fabric of your tiny satin shorts stretches across your crotch, digging in between your labia and perfectly outlining the contours of your plump little cunt. This did nothing to hide how wet you were now, so both San and Seonghwa could see the dark wet stain on the thin fabric. 

"Oh, shit, angel." Seonghwa curses, and you can hear him shift a little in his seat, but you still do not make the slightest attempt to turn around and look at him. You can be sure that if the situation were different, Seonghwa's godlike face would be buried between your thighs by now. But right now he has to restrain his desires and just watch what's going on. "Stop playing with her, San, and give the princess what she wants." His voice is condemning, but you know very well that this is nothing but a farce. Hwa himself can torment you for hours by rubbing his cock over your face or slapping it on your tongue and cheeks before he lets you take it in your mouth. 

The only thing your daddy had no patience for was eating your pussy. Seonghwa couldn't tease you for more than a minute before he would suckle with his gorgeous mouth on your warm, tight cunt and feast on it for hours. He would stick his tongue deep into your tiny hole and suck your juices like the exquisite vintage wine he loved so much, although he also liked to drink it from your pussy too. 

San slaps his cock against your mouth a couple of more times before he presses the head of it against your lower lip and gently pushes it in the inviting, moist warmth of your mouth.

"You heard your man, baby girl. Open your mouth and take this cock, Angel." You almost want to roll your eyes at those words, you petty bastard. But when San's sharp feline eyes meet yours and he gives you a smug, predatory grin that makes you squirm in your seat between his spread legs, all your insolence melts away in an instant. 

San's hand runs through your hair in a deceptively affectionate manner, pulling a few strands away from your beautiful face so that he can get a better look at you as your sweet mouth opens and his thick cock slowly enters you. Your jaw tenses up as you try to get used to the size of it, the swollen, throbbing veins rubbing against your tongue as he pushes deeper and deeper. San clenches a large handful of your silky curls in his fist before pulling them out with force. He rolls his eyes and hisses through clenched teeth as the blunt head of his cock hits the back of your throat and his balls rest against your chin. 

Your mouth is full to the brim, your plump lips stretching beautifully around the hot, velvety girth, pressing tightly against it and enveloping the sensitive length with warm, wet breath, but even that doesn't stop you from moving your tongue and kitten licking the sensitive spot where his cock joins his heavy, cum-filled balls. 

The moan he makes when you do it goes straight to your pussy and your silky walls clench around nothing. Delicate, velvety skin tingles under the caress of your tongue, and it makes his cock throb in your mouth. The sight of you choking on his cock and drooling all over his balls almost brings San to the brink of his limit. 

"Look at you, doll, you're already drooling like a mindless slut, and I haven't even fucked that sweet face yet." San's thumb caresses your soft cheek, cooing sweetly before he slaps you lightly on the cheek, causing you to gasp and unknowingly let his cock go deeper down your throat. 

You choke on it, the slippery walls of your throat tightening around his cock, pressing on the sensitive, swollen veins that stretch seductively along its massive, heavy length. The sensation makes him curse, and the nasty gagging, gurgling sound you make seems so sexy that San doesn't think he'll ever be able to get enough of it. Seonghwa makes his own wet whimpering noise as he watches your deep throat the handsome boxer's cock as he masturbates on you. 

San pulls your head up by the hair until the only thing left in your mouth is your wet, reddened head, and you wipe the tears from your eyes. Wiping away the tears that begin to gather in the corners of your eyes, you look up at him with the most enchanting, tender look of pure innocence as you let his cock completely out of your mouth with a loud 'pop'. You give a wet smack to the swollen, mushroom-shaped head of his cock, the viscous saliva bubbling up before it bursts and runs down his cock and your chin in thick strands. 

"Oh fuck, baby doll, you look so beautiful with my cock in your mouth. A perfect little cocksucker." The sweet praise makes your delicate hole clench around nothing and your clit throbs as if San had just licked it with his tongue. 'Let me fuck your angelic face, sweetheart? I'm sure Seonghwa can't wait to see me stuff my cock down your tight little throat up to my balls. San purrs passionately as he looks down at you before he pushes his muscular thighs up so that his massive length slaps against your mouth and cheeks a couple of times. 

'Yes, Daddy, I want it.' You whimper as you flutter your long, fluffy eyelashes and run your lips sweetly over the sensitive, velvety flesh of his cock, leaving short kisses on it. "Please, I want to feel you deep in my throat."

San growls, cupping the back of your head roughly with his palm and pressing down hard, forcing your pretty, flushed face to press even harder against his thick, wetted with saliva and pre-cum length. He doesn't need to tell you anything; you obediently open your warm, moist mouth and allow San to push his massive cock back between your swollen lips, stretching them beautifully around the hard, velvety flesh and pulsating, swollen veins. 

His broad shoulders tense visibly, muscles tightening and contracting under his sweaty golden skin, and he moans gutturally as he watches you lower yourself onto him. Your eyes roll back in pleasure as you savour the slightly painful sensation from his huge cock as it pushes deeper and deeper into your throat, pulling the tight, slippery walls apart until you are choking on it completely. His cock is practically choking you as San holds your head in place, preventing you from being able to move away from him and take a full breath. San's broad, slightly rough palms begin to massage the sides of your neck to ease the tension a little as he holds you against his cock, your nose resting against the smooth, warm skin of his pubic and his heavy balls pressed tightly against your chin.

"That's my good girl." San moans, throwing his head back and rolling his eyes as your tongue presses against the swollen, throbbing vein on his cock. His stomach tenses up, and his taut pecs rise and fall with a heavy, hoarse intake of breath.

"My girl San, she's my fucking girl." Seonghwa hisses angrily. But that doesn't seem to bother the handsome boxer at all, as he just laughs grimly, clutching your hair in his fist and pulling your head away from his cock to admire your sweet, tear-stained face and your swollen, fucked lips. 

"Of course she is, Hwa. She's all yours." San replies in a caustic tone. He enters your mouth once more, thrusting into it roughly and jerkily, hitting the back of your throat with the head of his cock each time. "Breathe through your nose, dolly." The brunette warns you before he forces your head down onto his cock until your nose is pressed against the smooth, wet skin of his pubic and his balls are pressed tightly against your chin. San holds your head still, and you begin to gasp, your throat walls tightening around his thick length as you try to breathe. 

"Damn, doll, I'm going to cum. Do you want my cum, kitten?' He growls, pulling at your hair as he finally begins to fuck you in the throat. He thrusts into your mouth, sharp and deep, his hot length sliding between the narrow walls of your throat with a disgusting wet sound. San rolls his hips smoothly and fucks you in the face, his rhythm steady and deep. 

You moan affirmatively, looking at him with huge, sweet eyes. With every move he makes, his heavy, thick cock rubs against your soft tongue, and you suck in your cheeks to give him even more pleasure. This makes San hisses like a big wildcat. This deep, sexy sound excites you more, and you dig your long, sharp nails into his luxurious thighs, leaving on them long scarlet stripes.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" The brunet asks, wrapping his fingers around your neck and pressing down lightly so that he can feel the bulge of his cock in your throat every time he enters you. This also cuts off what little room you had left to breathe. "Your plump, slutty cunt must be leaking so hard right now, isn't it, doll? You're just dying for me to cum in it and destroy that tight, sweet hole of yours."

His disgustingly dirty but incredibly hot words make you whimper pitifully around his massive girth, sending pleasurable vibrations through his sensitive cock.

You can feel his muscular thighs tense up under the palms of your hands as San throws his head back and lets out a loud, prolonged moan of pure pleasure. It's a deep, pornographic sound that comes straight from his chest, and it's at that very moment that your mouth begins to fill with his warm sperm. 

San cums heavily on your tongue—a warm stream of thick, milky liquid runs down the back of your throat, causing you to choke. You slowly breathe through your nose and try to fight against your gag reflex as you drink his cum, little by little.

You try to swallow all of it, but there's so much of his sperm that some of it starts to leak out of your mouth, dripping down your chin and down the silky length of his cock, coating it in a sticky, milky glaze. You have to pull yourself away from him so that you can swallow it properly and savour the rich, bittersweet taste of it.

"Come on, kitten, show me your tongue." San purrs and looks up at you in a seductive way with his dark, feline eyes. His gaze is hazy and unfocused from the orgasm he's just experienced, and he gives you a lecherous grin, showing off his deep dimples as he continues to stroke his cock lazily.

You swallow noisily a thick mixture of sticky cum and your own drool, looking up at San with your big, deceptively innocent eyes before opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue.

"Look at you, baby doll." San purrs in a condescending manner and slaps his big cock against your tongue. Another copious stream of cum splashes onto your soft appendage, some of it landing on your lips and cheeks, coating your angelic face with thick, milky goo. "I always knew you were made to suck my cock, my little slut." He grabs your hair again and pulls you to his face for a kiss. 

It's a dirty, sloppy, even slightly disgusting, open-mouthed kiss with lots of drool and sperm. San doesn't care at all that you haven't had time to swallow his share; he shoves his tongue deep down your throat, licks the inside of your cheeks, and then slides his tongue over your tongue to taste his own cum. This has you whimpering and moaning into his lips, your little arms wrapped around his thick, tense neck as you continue to kiss each other. San persistently explores your mouth with his tongue while his hands cradle your heavy, plump tits, roughly massaging the soft flesh and thumb rubbing your sensitive, swollen nipples. 

The fact that Seonghwa doesn't seem to mind all of this and allows you to fuck San right in front of his eyes makes you even more horny. In fact, it's always been your little forbidden fantasy—you've imagined San touching you, licking your pussy and filling your little hole with his dick and sperm more than once or twice. But the fact that Hwa is involved in all of this drives you absolutely crazy. It's hard for you to comprehend what's happening, especially when San pulls and twists your nipples with his rough fingers again and another pair of hands goes to your hips before starting to pull down your soaked shorts and slutty panties until your sticky, plump cunt is fully exposed. Long strands of your arousal flow from your hole, dripping down to San's thighs and tempting Seonghwa to lick your silky, shiny folds, which he does right away.

Your hips arch as Seonghwa's long tongue slides down your slit from your dripping, quivering hole to your throbbing clit; the sharp tip dipping between your labia, caressing the soft, sensitive folds that are covered in a thick layer of your sweet mucus.

'Daddy!' You squeal, pulling away from San's swollen, hot lips and clawing at his broad, muscular shoulders with your long fingernails with such force that drops of blood begin to show on his skin.

'Do you like to play rough, sweetheart?' San hisses and suddenly slaps your tit. An angry red mark immediately blooms where his palm has made contact with your plump flesh. Your arousal is so obvious that you can practically feel it tingling on your skin; a fresh load of slime pours out of your hole, and Seonghwa immediately licks it up, velvety purring as the viscous liquid runs down his tongue and into his throat. He squeezes your thighs violently, long fingers digging into your flesh to pull your thick, juicy thighs closer to him so he can bury his godlike face in your aching, slutty cunt. "I asked you a question, Dolly." The handsome boxer slaps your breasts again, causing you to make a pitiful whimper. 

"Yes...' You can barely speak; your words are all of gasping and sobbing, especially when Hwa rubs her pretty nose against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders at the new stimulation, and you dig your nails into San's shoulders even harder than before. "Yes, I like that, Daddy.". 

'Daddy, huh?' Seonghwa hisses furiously and pulls his beautiful, sensual mouth away from your needy pussy. You squeal loudly as he suddenly slaps your swollen, sensitive clit with his graceful palm. The painful sensation is quickly replaced by euphoric, sweet pleasure spreading through your body like a liquid flame. "You know, you should be ashamed of yourself for the way you have behaved, my angel." Hwa purrs as he slaps your pussy a couple of more times. You give a pitiful whimper, shivering with your whole body and clinging even more tightly to San like a helpless little kitten. 

"Please, Daddy, I'm so sorry...I'll behave better...' Your tone is so whiny, almost pleading. You choke on your own words, which sound more like intermittent breathing than anything coherent. "I promise I'll make it up to you, Daddy. I'll do everything for you. Please...'

"What about me, baby doll? Will you do anything for me? San whispers, sultry and husky, drawing your attention back to him; his wet, swollen lips, swollen from kissing and bruising, touch yours with every word he utters. 

'I...' You start, but you never get a chance to finish your sentence as Seonghwa, without warning, plunges two long fingers into your tight, tiny hole all the way to the base. His fingers flex inside you, the soft pads pressing against the sensitive, spongy bundle of nerves, and you moan long and hard. More and more of the sweet nectar is oozing out of your hole, coating his fingers and dripping down onto San's thighs. 

"I feel like you forget yourself all the time, San." Seonghwa's hisses. He pulls his long fingers out of you at an excruciatingly slow pace, dragging them along the silky walls of your pussy and making sure you feel every moment of it very vividly. "Y/N belongs to me and only to me. She is mine. And I think it's time for me to remind you of that." There is pure venom in Songhwa's voice, and you can't deny that it turns you on. But I have to say, it's pretty sweet that you have the idea that she could be yours." He continues to taunt the handsome boxer.

San just laughs, slides his hand between your thighs, and cups your pussy with his broad palm in a possessive way. Your hips automatically begin to move in search of sweet stimulation, and this movement has you rubbing against San's palm, your swollen clit sliding against the rough skin in the most delightful way. You arch your back and push back your plump booty as you shake it a little, making the juicy flesh wiggle seductively, and you hope that this will entice Sunhwa to put his fingers inside you once more and press his tongue against your cunt. God, you wanted to cum so badly, but it seems that the two impossibly sexy and powerful men, who now had you trapped between their gorgeous bodies, had plans of their own for you.

"Oh really?" San snorts with a grim chuckle. "Oh, daddy, her cunt is flowing for me, all sticky, sweet, and ready to be filled with my sperm. You haven't even made her cum yet; is that really how you are supposed to treat the sugar pussy of your princess, huh? If she were mine, I'd suck on her pussy until she squirted all over my face, then I'd do it again and again until I milked it dry'. San leans down to your ear, and his hot breath touches the sensitive skin of your earlobe, sending a tingling sensation through your whole body. He runs the tip of his tongue over your delicate flesh, grinning lewdly and looking directly into Songhwa's dark, squinting eyes. "And it seems you're the one who forgets, Hwa." San presses down on your trembling, tight hole and pushes two fingers into you with a loud, squelching sound. 'I never lose."

❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part I @tiny-apocalypse @captain-joongz @alicedawitchbish @woohwababes @wlv-asteria @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisprincesss @lavishloving @teagietots @spooo00oky @sousydive @hwapou @bunnliix @softwsan @mjyungi @fantasy2wonderland @noirsfantasy @cassies-cookies @renaholicss @luffypants @hyukssunflower @watermelon2319 @peachygiku @bunnyxoxodarling @stolasisyourparent @soranosnowbunny @certifiedmoa @sanglix @slvtiny @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hecateslittlewitchling @xxawl @pastellbunno @starlletsblog @seonghwasstar @hwanring @vtyb23 @pearltinyy @minjaeum @chasevixx @bomi-ja @onedumbho3 @sanglix @cursedeastern @itza-meee @pinkies-things @atinism @mxnsxngie @nenefix-on @therealcuppicake @annafeebou @sharksandminhos @@lixies-pixieboy @@vampzity @0rangemilk @yellow-foxxing @claimmeyourprincess

❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part II @unholywriters @hey-syia @hrts4nohee @vnessalau @mlink64 @tessakleine @fr34k4c1dr41n @313hwa @lilyuwon @tiziamattaga @un-knew @wiaxul @siyah-staryis @seonghwasbbgirl @mingisfavgf @bunnyluvr25 @roserperfume @lose-lose07 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @lelaleleb @bubblebisk @silverlight-h @ chloe-elise-2000 @cookiesandcreammy @mxnsxngie @ghostlovesworld @i-love-ateez @mingisprincesss @vampscan @peachygiku @vampqueen777 @miyaluvvsyou @stay-tiny-things @moondanse94

❣ ℌ𝔬𝔩𝔶 𝔅𝔲𝔫𝔫𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ❣ Part III @yyaurii @infrenchexit @sanniesbum @jaxyy219 @lostxxgirl @m1sss1mp @manipulatedstars @cotton-candycloudz @kienhawon @flowerxsin @londonbridges01 @fluffyyongbokie @sang-09 @hobarihope @sanniesaur @luvbit3z @sanriomilk @s4erin @sanhwalvr @mallielovssyou @slytherinslays @your-bloodbag @cherricola-star @passionandsuga @hwasangel

[bunny-jpeg]

bright as the morning

simon "ghost" riley

cw: plus sized!reader, smut, pwp, body worship, possessive behavior, jealousy, age (early 20s/mid 30s), simon can pretty much bench-press you, oral sex, missionary the mating press

bunny says: like fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? request your own! (title inspired by hozier's 'too sweet')

there was a period of time you thought you were ugly. you thought guys either ignored you or made comments because of your size. the sight of you made them gag and they'd rather be single than date you. even now with more confidence, you still couldn't believe when men hit on you.

you were waiting for your boyfriend at the mechanic's shop. you were in nothing too special, just wanted to join simon as he got his car. but you were adamantly listening to a mechanic around your age talk your ear off about cars. you thought he was just being nice.

but then you felt the presence of your boyfriend. the air got cold when he was near and he looked over you like a shadow, "the car's here."

you looked over and smiled up at your lover. he took your hand in his hand and headed away from the mechanic. you tried to keep in pace with him but his strides were just too big. then in front of the car, he looked over at he other man and pulled you close to him and kissed you through his mask.

"my doll." he said quietly, "was he causin' ya any problems?"

you looked up at him and shook his head, "nope. he was just being nice."

he chuckled, "yeah... nice. let's get ya home, i heard you were makin' me somethin' special for dinner." then pulled away but kept his eyes on you.

you smiled, "it's canned soup, simon." and turned away to get to the other side of the car. you could feel his heavy gaze on you as you got into the vehicle. simon got in soon after, you didn't even notice the look he gaze the other man as he put his hand on your thigh.

he pulled away for a moment to put the keys in the ignition, but it was soon back on your thigh as he pulled away and headed home. the entire way home, his large hand was on your thigh. his strong fingers squeezed a little at their softness.

"are you okay?" you asked as you looked to him. you placed a hand over his, the roughness of his knuckled brushed against you palm.

"fine, love." he said gruffly.

you sighed, "i know you better than you know yourself then. tell me, did the mechanic over change you?"

"nah." he said, "just some punk talkin' to my girl."

you raised an eyebrows, "simon. he was just being sweet. nothing to be jealous over." you patted his shoulder and continued to look at him.

he replied, "after all these years, ya still don't know how beautiful you are." then looked over quickly to reach over and pinch your round cheek, "prettiest damn girl i've ever seen."

-

simon knew exactly how he was going to show how beautiful he thought you were. he liked how your thighs touched together, he loved the roundness of your face. he loved how you felt in his arms. you never held a gun, you never had to starve while on missions. you were content with the life you led up to that point. it wasn't marked by violence. you were safe enough to be a little softer around the middle, and simon though it was beautiful.

even if all your personality was extracted, he would still worship you like a devotee. worshiped your softness, kiss the plush skin. perfect.

you were in your bedroom and simon had you in his arms. he was pulling the t-shirt over your head. you wiggled out of it and helped him get off your body. he dropped the shirts then felt you up, his hard grasp lingered around your arms. he toyed with your breasts and groaned to himself.

his mask had long since been taken off. you could see the scarring on his lower face. as he played with your curves, you leaned up and kissed him on the scar on his chin.

he sighed contently, "he can't have this. only me." he let out a short chuckle through his nose before he went in for the deep kiss. he thought of the young mechanic who was trying to hit on you. it wasn't that he couldn't believe that someone would flirt with you, he just didn't get that someone couldn't see that you were already a taken woman!

no one else was allowed to flirt with him, but him!

he soon dropped to his knees and pulled your pants down. then soon your underwear followed to around your ankles. he spread your thighs a little and dipped his head between your legs.

you let out a small noise and tangled your hands in his blond hair. your face felt aflame from his attention. you said, "simon!"

he chuckled, "too sweet." he kissed your thigh, "too sweet for me." then continued to orally pleasure you. he felt his soft thighs in his hands was a feeling that made him excitement.

you quivered a little and he held you up against him. you held onto his hand as his tongue lapped against your clit. you tasted like a dream, while a weaker man would expect his girl to taste like candy. but the nature taste of your wetness made his cock strain in his jeans.

"shit... simon." you whimpered.

he continued to lick at your sweet pussy and marveled in the sounds that you made. it was music to his ears as he heard you. he wanted to make sure you knew how good you looked to him.

a lesser man would ignore you for your size, but what did they know. simon knew better, he was a real man. and he loved a partner who was soft. meant it let him protect you.

he pulled away and looked up at you with wetness staining his chin. he said, 'c'mon, love. get those legs around my head." and then slowly got you up on his shoulders with your pussy right in his face once more.

he held you up by your lower back and continued to pleasure you orally. when he hit a sweet spot, your thighs clenched around his head. he made sure you were secure up there. perfect against him as made you feel good.

and with your hands in his hair, he felt amazing. his cock strained against his pants as he held you up. he often told you that it was like a bag of grapes when he picked you up. he was trained to hold up a lot more, so it was quite easy for him to pick you up.

you yelped from the sensation of his tongue on you, you panted as you held his head tighter. his forehead up against your stomach. it was a sore spot to acknowledge, but he knew how to make every inch of you feel special. even if you were insecure.

"always mine, doll." he said softly, his kisses littered the soft skin of your cunt. his touches were forms of worship across your back. he was a devotee to the religion of your love. he remembered the first time he made you orgasm on his fingers, he felt the thump in his chest. his cold heart shattered into a beating organ.

he had found a life post-war. something beyond blood and conflict. a place he could nestle his aching bones and rest. you had opened your heart and home to him, and he would be forever grateful.

it often shocked him that you weren't the most confident woman to ever exist. but he'd just have to show his worship every day until you believed it too.

he raked his blunt nails down your back side and over your ass before he held onto you lower back once more and tried to get as deep as he could against your cunt.

"please!" you whimpered, "i can't cum like this."

he said something then smacked your ass. he groaned between your thighs. it was his mission now to make sure you came on his tongue. he could hold you up all day if he had to. he felt you tense up and his assault on your clit gave way for you to hold onto him tightly and kicked out your legs as you finished on his tongue.

he chuckled as he got up slowly and headed to the bed. he placed you down gently and gazed at your naked body. simon saw the birth of venus painting when in a mission in italy. but he could believe he was seeing it for a second time when he looked at you.

you looked up at him, your face felt hot as you rubbed your wet thighs together. you didn't know what to do with your hands so you held onto the covers under you as you watched your boyfriend strip down into nothing.

that strong body, with a little more insulation than when you first met. but he was strong and imposing. he could still kill as effectively as he could when he was in the military. you swallowed and covered your face.

"don't hide from me. i want to see it all." he said as he gazed down at you.

you moved up the bed and he got on top of you. he handled you easily and with care. he loved the feeling of your softness against him. you felt like a dream, a warm heat he could find comfort in.

he didn't want anyone else to have you. he wanted you all to himself. to enjoy and love. to make him feel complete as he rubbed his cock up against your slit him holding your legs.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

he continued to rub up against you, teasing your pussy before he sank his length into you. he was tempted to pin you down to the bed, but he liked when you got all shy. he found in endearing when he made you blush so much that you hide yourself from him.

"do you like that?"

"love it."

he then slipped his cock into you, he sank in easily thanks to all his work on your pussy. he held your legs up as he pushed in fully. he exhaled deeply as he felt the air leave his chest.

you tried to kick out your legs once more but he kept them pinned to him as he started to rock back and forth. he moved against you, letting your wetness give him access to the deepest parts of you.

he moved against you and you held onto the bed under you.

"you look amazing." he said, "i wanted to kill that guy for talkin' to ya. i want you, and i want you all to myself. you're too perfect. all mine."

you looked at him and replied, you breathed deeply, "i only want you too, simon. i wouldn't want anyone else." you felt yourself get dragged as he got off the bed and held you up by the hips a she pushed down into your cock which almost left you in a mating press.

you felt your stomach in your throat as he pushed down into you. the sounds of sex filled the air as the two of you fucked on the bed you shared.

"i think you're just perfect." he said, "no other girlie like you. you make me wanna be a good man."

you replied innocently, "you are a good man." if you only you knew what he had done before he met you. he leaned forward and kissed you once more which squished your further.

he thrusted into you at a quick but steady pace. he watched your face changed the more he brought you pleasure. you were a sight to behold in front of him. he watched your body move against him, your curves shake with his movements.

you two fucked on the bed, well at the edge of the bed. it wasn't long however before you two felt close to orgasm. he cotninued to thrust into your body, he loved the feeling of the two of you against one another. it was a comforting feeling.

he thought you were sexy, but also a place of comfort for him. a place where he could rest his head and find content with life. he just thought you were amazing. the perfect woman.

with another hard thrust, he finished inside of you. and soon you clamped around his cock and came around it. you held onto the covers for support as he railed you. once you were over the tip of your orgasm, you felt the fight leave your body.

you both got to the top of the bed and cuddled in each other's arms naked. he rubbed your curves and kissed at your neck. he could feel the sweat on your neck. he sighed contently.

"simon."

"yes, love."

"you really do think i'm pretty?'

"i don't think you're pretty. i think every woman should be jealous of you." he chuckled softly as his lips went into your hair where he buried his nose in your strands. you were his mornings, afternoons and evenings, and no snot nosed mechanic is going to get in the way of that. <3

xoxo, bunny

[flametrashiraarchive]

Thinking about Gyomei who returns from a long string of missions to find his s/o laying down, staring at nothing. Eyes empty, voice apathetic, like a cup with a hole at the bottom, drained of life.

Gyomei's big frame craddling his s/o, rocking back and forth in comfort, trying to breathe more life into his s/o's depressed form, trying to return the warmth stolen by their mind.

Gyomei ready to give up, when his s/o starts to respond to his touch finally...

... after all his cuddles are the best.

- Beer anon 🍻

Who has two thumbs and gets carried away writing about sad boys 👍😎👍

Thank you for this ask. I loved writing about Gyomei and I hope I did him well!

NSFW and unbearable cuteness beneath the cut.

Softer than Mochi- Gyomei x Reader

Gyomei's chin was tilted down as he listened to you. Ordinarily, your voice brought him familiar comfort, but lately he had noticed the sound of it, along with the scent of your skin, was eliciting a new sort of reaction.

It was both unbearably exciting and incredibly uncomfortable.

"Please continue." He shifted his weight as he sat cross-legged on the rocks. His cheeks were getting warm as you told him about your latest mission. "You pursued the demon through the forest?"

You continued speaking, seemingly unaware of his predicament. "Yes. So anyway, the demon almost got away, but I took it down and managed to save the woman it was trying to snatch away. It won't bother anyone again."

"Ah… good. You did well. I'm proud."

There was a slight shift in the air which told him you'd taken a step forward. His heart quickened. 

"Thank you," you said. "I couldn't have done it without your training."

Instinctively, Gyomei opened his arms to accept your embrace. You hugged him often, and he enjoyed it every time.

You were so soft and precious to him. Most people felt small to Gyomei– even Tengen Uzui who stood six and a half feet tall and had muscles on muscles felt like a willow branch sometimes.

The stone hashira wrapped you in his arms, breathing in your warm and lovely scent.

"My sweet friend," he whispered as you buried your face against his neck, making his stomach flutter. "Your capabilities come from your strength and determination, not from me. I taught you ways to use your tools, but you were the one who built and refined them. And you have already been given your next mission?"

"Yes." Your voice was filled with a conflicting mix of  weariness and determination. The lower ranked slayers such as yourself were always busy taking down weaker demons, while hashira were assigned to the less frequent but more difficult missions. "I have to leave here in an hour in fact. I have a train to catch."

An hour was too little time to spend together, but Gyomei would cherish every moment. "I smell matcha… what is that?"

"I brought you some mochi," you said, placing a paper packet in his large hands.

Gyomei smiled and carefully unwrapped the packet, touching his fingers to the squishy little cakes. They were round, perfectly smooth, and as soft as your cheeks, but each one had two little pointed bumps on top… they felt like ears.

The stone hashira's smile widened. "Are they cat-shaped?"

Your excited laughter was heartwarming music to him. "Yes!"

His chest filled with adoration. "They're almost too cute to eat. Thank you, my dearest friend." 

You sat beside him on the rocks, listening to the roaring waterfall and the babbling song of the river. Your hand rested in his, so small and delicate but somehow so warm and profound. 

"Please be safe on your mission," Gyomei said. "And inform me when you get back."

His heart leapt as you leaned against him, resting your head on his bicep. "I will. I'll come and find you before I do anything else. You be safe too, Gyo."

When you stood, his heart lamented. The air shifted again and he opened his arms to embrace you, but this time you pressed your lips softly to his cheek, your hands resting on his shoulders.

The tingle of your kiss lingered on his skin long after you left for your mission. Gyomei remained seated where you left him, smiling as he thought of you and ate the mochi you so sweetly made for him. The world, for a little while, was very beautiful. 

Gyomei had faced countless demons, he had suffered every brutality, but your gentle kiss hit him harder than anything he had ever known before. Your lips were so soft he could have wept.

***

Five days passed before he heard whispers of your return but you did not come to see him as promised. 

That was unlike you and it filled Gyomei with concern. He walked the familiar path to your home, trying to calm his mind. There could be a number of explanations; maybe you were asleep, maybe you had been summoned elsewhere… maybe you had only said you would come to see him first to humor him.

He reached your front door and raised his hand to knock, but found only empty space in front of his knuckles. He called out your name and heard only silence. His heart plummeted. 

Your door was open and you were not responding. He immediately suspected the worst. But there was no trace of a demon, no sickly scent of death or injury. 

"I'm coming in," he said, so as not to scare you.

Your house was silent, and the air had a strange sort of quality. In the past, your home had been a place of comfort for him, but now when he stepped across the threshold he felt a sorrowful weight in his heart.

"Are you here?" He tried to conceal the worry, but it came out anyway. "My friend, speak to me… please."

"Gyo…" 

At the sound of your voice his heart leapt. He turned toward the sound and took a step forward. 

"Are you hurt?" He asked. 

"No… I'm sorry I scared you."

You were on the floor. 

He crouched close to you, reaching out a hand toward you. "My friend, what has happened? I can hear the pain in your voice."

A heavy silence sat between you. Oh, his heart was aching and he couldn't fathom why. Your voice sounded so empty, so utterly broken. You were sitting on a futon in the center of the room; still and quiet and emanating sorrow. He couldn't hold back from reaching out further and placing his hand upon you. His fingers brushed your forearm and traveled down until he found your hand and held it in his. Somehow you felt smaller… hollow…

He didn't press the issue. You would tell him in your own time. He simply sat with you and held your hand. Gyomei was patient.

After a while you moved. He heard your clothes shuffle, felt the air waft against him as you moved your body.

His heart squeezed as you rested your forehead on his shoulder, and he couldn't refrain from holding you. He wrapped you up in his arms, easing you down to sit in his lap as he surrounded you in his embrace.

You fit so perfectly against him; so small and sacred. He held you with endless love and affection, cradling you in his arms as he rested his chin on top of your head. Something had bruised your sweet spirit, and he would hold you for eternity if he thought it could help you heal.

Finally, you spoke. "I failed, Gyomei. The demon's victims begged me to help and I failed. I couldn't save them."

It was a pain he knew too well, and a pain you would have to make space for in your heart because it would never truly go away.

"I'm sorry. That is never easy."

You pressed yourself closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Please forgive me."

"Oh, little one." His chest ached. He was so bound to your shattering heart that the splinters of it pierced through his own. "How I wish I could take away your pain." 

You trembled as silent sobs wracked your body and Gyomei rocked with you. You mourned the lives you hardly knew and he held you through it as though he could shield you from the rest of the world until the grief was gone. 

"I'm so sorry," you whispered, still weeping.

"You are forgiven, my dearest friend." He knew the apology wasn't truly meant for him, but he also knew you needed a seed of forgiveness to allow solace to take root and start to grow.

You cried your tears until you had nothing left. Finally, you grew still and the tension in your body waned.

"You have such a beautiful soul." He unwound one of his arms from around you and wiped away your tears with his thumb. He smiled, "And the softest cheeks."

You laughed quietly and it mended your hearts a little. "Thank you."

"Please do not be sad anymore. Take this pain and use it to help more people."

"Gyomei…" His name was music when it came from your lips. "You're so dear to me. This mission helped me realize I should make sure you know that."

"You are to me too. You're precious."

The gentle touch of your fingers on his jaw made his heart flutter. You traced the shape of his face as he had done to you so many times before.

His pulse raced. The air between you crackled with something unspoken. Your breaths were shallow and shivering as they blew across his lips. Heat prickled on his cheeks and along the column of his neck as he continued to hold you, dipping his chin to he nearer to you. He was inexperienced but not completely naive. Even if he couldn’t quite believe it was happening, he knew you were thinking about kissing him.

He wanted it too. 

“I adore you," he managed to whisper.

"I adore you too."

His heart pounded as you traced the outline of his lips with your fingertips. It was the most intimate sensation he had ever felt. Each breath he drew took a tremendous effort and barely reached the top of his lungs. This was unlike him; Gyomei was in tune with every muscle in his body, and yet your tender touch weakened him more than he thought possible.

He released you from his embrace and raised his hands to your face, finding his bearings before he leaned down and closed the distance, kissing you with infinite tenderness.

The moment his lips met yours, you responded, melting against him and kissing him back; so soft and warm it made his entire body ache. His heart was full to bursting as his thoughts tumbled like a landslide. Your lips were even softer than your cheeks, softer than mochi, warmer than sunlight. 

The kiss seemed to breathe life back into you, and almost at once there was a new passion and hunger which he had sometimes dreamed of experiencing. But never once did he actually believe he could share it with you. You stole his breath away.

When the kiss broke, you showered his face in smaller, more chaste, but no less lovely kisses. Gyomei felt himself smile as his hands trailed down your back.

"Tell me, cherished one," he said quietly, "just so I don't run away with myself. Is this simply to feel good and numb your pain, or is this truly how you feel?"

Thank the gods that the silence afterward was only momentary. His heart couldn't stand it.

"It's how I feel," you responded, caressing the sides of his face with both hands and giving him goosebumps. "Gyo… this is why I come to you after every mission to embrace you and hold your hands. This is why I make cat-shaped mochi for you. I thought you knew I love you."

His heart was about to burst from his chest and his smile could not be contained. "Ah… yes, now that I consider it, it seems obvious."

You laughed. "My sweet Gyo."

You kissed him again. Though it had only been moments since the last one, relief coursed through him as he drew from that sweet warmth and softness. 

"My most beloved, I am yours."

Your hands explored his shape, traversing the neckline of his shirt to the very top of his chest. While not vain, Gyomei was proud of his strength and the muscles he worked so hard to hone. Your quiet hum of approval sounded against his lips as your fingers touched his pectorals. It filled him with pride.

A breathless, tingling sensation coursed through his body as your touches grew bolder and your kisses increased in intensity. The sensation of your hands brushing his bare skin caused a sensation not unlike you were tugging a chord connected to his core.

"Am I moving too fast?" You asked, still resting your forehead against his as though it was as painful for you to be apart as it was for him. 

"Not at all. Continue, please." Heat pickled across his cheeks, far more intense than any sunbeam. 

"You're blushing," you whispered before taking his hand and leading it toward your face, brushing your cheeks with the back of his fingers. "I'm blushing too."

He smiled. "I feel it. You're so warm."

Your cheeks grew plump beneath his fingers as you smiled, and then your hand left his. He heard the soft rustle of fabric, the quickening of your breath, and then you took his hand and led it down to your bare chest.

"Oh…" he choked out.

Nothing in the world could compare to the smooth warmth of your body beneath his large, battle-hewn hands. You were silk to him, lotus petals, mochi, the gentle flow of a sun-warmed stream. His chest ached. Your beauty was overwhelming.

The way you bowed to his tender caresses pulled once more at that chord. When he brushed his thumb over the hardening bud of your nipple and elicited a soft sigh of pleasure from you, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Tingling excitement rolled through his lower belly as your hands went to the fastening of his trousers. Gods, he wanted this, he did… but as inexperienced as he was, there were certain facts he was very aware of. 

“We must be patient,” he said. “I need to ensure you are ready.”

“Believe me, Gyo, I’m ready.” You kissed him again with renewed passion, running your fingers through his hair and sending more little shocks of pleasure through him. 

Gyomei smiled as you pulled back from the kiss, placing his hands over yours to halt your progress. “You’re not ready enough.”

“What do… oh… OH.” You had no doubt noticed the bulge forming in his trousers. “I see. You’re–”

“Large.” He pulled in a breath. “I’m very large. And I don't want to hurt you." Slipping his hand over the curve of your waist, he pressed a kiss to the plush softness of your chest. "If you wish to continue then I ask that you permit me to prepare your body to…receive me."

"I want to continue." You kissed him again, your tongue entering his mouth and slowly teasing his; pulling a gravelly moan from his lips. When you withdrew, you stood and he heard the soft rustle of cloth once more as you removed the rest of your clothing. You took his hands and led them to your bare thighs. "Please touch me."

His pulse thundered as he skated his hands along the curves of your body, committing every soft hill and luxurious valley of your shape to memory. Every touch was an act of profound worship, and every sweet sound of pleasure which came from you was an answer to a prayer.

"Beloved, lie down for me," he said softly. "I want you to be comfortable."

You did as he asked, lying back on your futon.

Just knowing that you were before him, laid out and feeling as nervous and as excited as he was, made his heart flutter. He undressed fully before he let his hands stroke the lengths of your thighs, down to your center where the heat radiated from you in intoxicating waves.

"Please tell me if I'm doing well or not," he asked. His voice was quiet and shaking a little with trepidation. "I've never… well, I've received a little bit of instruction on how to do these things but never put them into practice. So please…"

"I will." You placed your hand on his and with gentle pressure, urged him to touch you. 

Your tender flesh was like nothing he had ever felt before. His breath caught in his throat as his fingers mapped out the shape. You were so warm and wet, and the scent of you was truly intoxicating. You made such lovely sounds of pleasure as he slid his fingers through your folds, coating them in your essence. He traced their shape upward, to where they converged over your delicate, swollen bud.

"There," you gasped as he circled his fingers around it. "That's…"

"Your clitoris," he said with a smile. "I know… I told you, I've had instruction."

At the time he had thought Uzui's lessons were wasted on him, but he had committed the information to memory nonetheless. Now, as your hips bucked and your thighs trembled from the gentlest touches, he had every intention of thanking Uzui from the bottom of his heart.

"Gyo-mei~" you gasped as he stroked your clit with his thumb and pushed a thick finger into you. Oh, gods, the heat, the silken flesh, the slick coating of your nectar, like sun-ripened fruit. He wanted so badly to sink into you and feel his body connected to yours. But he would be patient. He would ensure you were completely ready before he satiated his needs. 

A wave of heat washed over him as you bore down on his finger, eager and demanding even without words.

"Is it good?"

"So… good…"

"Do you want more, my beloved?"

"Yes…" your breaths came in short gasps. "More."

He pushed a second finger into you, pausing as you cried out, allowing your body to accommodate them. His fingers, like everything else about him, were large.

He waited until you began to thrust onto them again and took that as a sign that you were ready.

Gently, he began to move his fingers, pumping them into you slowly as his thumb continued to rub your clitoris. His heart quickened as he felt your inner muscles begin to contract and spasm. 

"Don't stop," you whispered, your voice breathless and urgent.

"I won't."

You came apart seconds later, gasping and shuddering as those muscles pulsed around his fingers. You squeezed them so beautifully, and imagining that sensation on his cock was enough to make him lightheaded.

But he still had work to do. "Can you take more?"

You placed your hand on his thigh. "Yes."

A blissful cry emerged from you as he added a third finger, gently stretching you. 

"Gods, Gyomei~"

"Breathe, beloved. Breathe and relax. I will stop if you wish me too."

"Never."

He chuckled before spreading his fingers slightly, opening you up and readying you. "If I could only express the true depth of my feelings for you." He bowed his head, kissing your stomach with slow, lingering kisses as he continued to pump his fingers into you. 

You were so receptive to his touches, moaning softly as you placed your hand on his wrist, as if to hold it down between your thighs. It was a reassuring gesture that he was pleasing you. That's all he truly desired.

He felt your muscles quiver again and you cried out his name. His cock stood firm, aching with need as your pussy squeezed around his fingers.

"I think you are ready." He spoke softly, kneeling back a little. "If you still–"

"I do. Gyomei… I absolutely do."

You got up and sat astride his thighs as he knelt on the bottom of the futon. This was good. It was exactly what he wanted. He needed you to be in control now, setting the depth and intensity. 

Your lips brushed against his as you cupped his face. The bare skin of your torso was so soft and delicate against his large frame. He wound his arms around you and met your kiss, slow and passionate and filled with love. 

Shifting in his lap, you positioned yourself so the head of his cock was pressed against your entrance. He felt a brief stab of worry that he hadn't prepared you well enough, that he had been too hasty and would hurt you, but a moment later you took him with nothing more than a breathy moan. 

"Gyomei… Gods you feel incredible."

Oh there was nothing that could describe that feeling of sinking into you. A needy groan escaped him as he pressed his head to your shoulder and breathed in the scent of you, trying to ground himself. He was lost in the sensation.

"I love you," you whispered, kissing his lips so gently it seemed you felt he was fragile and precious. 

"I love you too, my everything."

He had never felt so connected to anyone. Mind, body, soul, he was yours. He groaned in pleasure as you undulated your hips, taking him deeper inch by inch, stopping to give you both time to adjust and bask in the sensation.

"Does it hurt, my love?" he asked, unable to shake the tinge of concern from his mind or his voice. 

"No. No, we fit together perfectly." You kissed his neck, sending a frisson of pleasure traveling down his body where it pooled in the bottom of his belly. 

People often spoke of the beauty of stars; pinpricks of light shimmering among velvet darkness, and he felt he understood that with you. He felt them. Shimmering sparks which danced across skin, overwhelming him in the best possible way.

Pressure built at his core as you rode him, your hands resting on his shoulders, your soft body moving against his. You were taking him well, better than he had ever dared to hope you could.

The slow rhythm of your movements, the constant pleasure, the intimacy… It was too much. He grit his teeth and choked out a cry.

"Beloved… I'm…"

"Let it happen, Gyo. You've more than satisfied me. Let go…"

You kept on moving to that slow, loving rhythm, building the exquisite pressure which ran through his core, growing and growing until he was barely clinging to his senses.

His fingers gripped your hips with more strength than he ever meant to use with you, holding you to him as his pleasure reached an almost unbearable peak. 

"Ohh, beloved… perfect… so~ ohhh…so perfect." 

He filled you entirely, lowering his head to press his cheek to yours as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and clung to you. 

"I have you," you whispered as you held him, stroking his back as he trembled in your arms.

He knew he could be like this with you for as long as he needed to be. As wave after wave of pleasure rocked through his body, he sank down into your arms, pressing you back until you were lying on the futon and he reclined on his hip beside you, nestling his head against your chest.

Your heart thudded against his ear, beating to a rhythm you had set together. 

His lips curved as you stroked your fingers through his hair, kissing the top of his head and sighing in contentment.

And the world was forever beautiful. 

In that moment, and in every moment he shared with you, the stone hashira's heart was softer than mochi.

[katiscrying]

I’ve been holding myself back but I keep reading cg!elvis x little!reader fics and I’m going insane from how CUTE THEY ARE ☹️🤍

So here’s my Drabble ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪

Tw(s): Cursing, pet names (baby, lil’ one, honey), use of y/n, angsty?

70s!elvis

•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔* •₊˚୨ৎ

It’s been a week of work hell for Elvis and with the work load and being in the studio for at least 10-12 hours straight meant that his sweet lil’ one wasn’t getting as much attention as they deserve and he feels awful for it but you seemed to understand.. right?

Well yes, you know daddy doesn’t do it on purpose but you don’t like it. One bit. Now, you’d never purposely aggravate Elvis when your little but being needy for attention is close to just doing anything for it.

You came up with a little harmless plan that you know damn well Elvis would turn his attention to you in an instant. He knows not to swear in front of you but when he does on accident or by protecting you when your little in fear you’ll repeat the words but you don’t.. at least didn’t. You’d always hear his voice go stern as he’d lower to your height and say; “now don’t you say none of that, y’too lil’” in which you had always nodded with a “i wont daddy”. This time you decided to oppose your own words.

Elvis got home from the studio earlier than expected and when your little headspace went head on with your big headspace after a little trigger name echoed through your ears.. ‘baby’. While you both lounged out on the couch, Elvis assuming that the work was slowly halting when the phone in his office began ringing. A sigh escapes his lips as he gets up. “Gotta take that, lil’. You behave ‘kay?” You cross your arms and don’t nod but instead with your little voice you sit up and confidently say “damnit.”

Elvis was already close to the frame of the door when he froze. You watched as he turned around. “Excuse me—?” He says confused but alerted. “Nuh-uh lil’ one. You are too little for them words” he says with a stern yet still stunned tone you’d said a big word.

You keep your arms crossed and a small pout forming in your lips as he focuses solely on you.. just letting that phone ring. This is far more important. He levels himself to your sight of vision and with that same voice you always dislike hearing:

“Now why’d y’go and say that word, y/n? You are way too lil’ to use those naughty words ‘specially ‘round daddy.”

He waited to see if you had a response but you didn’t. Not even a peep.

“well?” He says, his arms folded.

Your eyes cloud up with tears, looking up at him. “M’ sorry, daddy..” Your voice shaky and your bottom lip quivering as you softly murmur. This throws Elvis off a bit. Why were you crying so suddenly?

“Hey, hey, lil’ one, what’s the matter?” His voice goes soft as his hands rub your smaller ones. “Said a bad word.. n daddy’s mad at me” you sniffle, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your cardigan.

“Hey, no— no. Daddy ain’t mad he’s just wonderin’ why yer swearin’ when you know you ain’t supposed to..” he says with a reassuring look on his face , his other hand reaching up to wipe your warm tears.

“Now, you wanna tell daddy why y’said that?” He asked again, softer and in a more coaxing manner. You sniffled before everything spilled out in word vomit. “Was just trying to get your attention, daddy.. didn’t wanna swear. You been busy all week n’ I know that.. but daddy don’t want his baby no more—”

His eyes go wide in shock as he listens before quickly shutting those thoughts down.

“Woah, woah, woah, honey— slow down..” he trails off, pulling you closer to him.

“None of that is true, honey. None. Daddy’s been busy and you’ve been such a good girl understanding that but you think I don’t want my baby no more?” You nod at his words, looking away from him but his fingers gently grasp your chin, making you look at him.

“Daddy always wants his baby.. even when he’s busy. Dontchu think anything different. Now let me wipe those tears.” The pads of his thumbs wipe the remains of those warm tear tracks on your cheeks before he picks you up. His arm supports your bottom as your smaller frame. “I think someone needs a nap m, lil’ one”

You nod your head that’s resting on his shoulder. “Mhm..”

“Alright, lil’ one.. you gon’ be okay now.. daddy ain’t gonna let you go. Gonna be right with you when y’wake up.”

•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔*:･ੈ‧.'•₊˚୨ৎ°⋆࿔* •₊˚୨ৎ

We need more cg!elvis ☹️🤍

[blossom-hwa]

last night | y.jh, j.ww

pairing: Jeonghan x gender neutral!reader x Wonwoo genre: angst, god!au (?) warnings: implied sex (nothing graphic, but it's kind of obvious what happened) word count: 1.8k notes: — inspired by the title track for jeonghan/wonwoo's new album, 'last night' :) — rn this is mostly just vibes with a semblance of plot, but I hope to develop it at some point into something bigger! please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your theories about this and the mv <3 Two gods walk in your dreams, and invite you to dance.

Seventeen Masterlist

I appeared in your dream last night I sang in your dream last night Sweetly, at times passionately I carefully knock on your door

.

That night, the moment your head touches your pillow, you dream.

The room is dark, filled with the humid musk of sweat. People chatter unintelligibly over music filtering from the stage, a guitar melody over a Latin beat that sounds hauntingly familiar. Everyone seems to be dancing, but no one turns as you push through the crowd, looking for someone you don't yet know.

A hand tugs your wrist and you turn around, coming face to face with the man you fell asleep next to. Jeonghan's eyes glint with mischief as he pulls you to him, spinning you into the figures of a dance. There's no space in this dark room but he leads you with impossible ease, weaving in and out of the other couples on the floor, his chest almost pressed to yours as you spins you under his arm, round and round as your loose pants spiral out around you—

A different hand catches your waist. Dips you gently, then pulls you into frame before you even have time to catch your breath. And you don't catch it. Because it isn't Jeonghan who holds your hand now, leading you to the melody of this haunting guitar, but Wonwoo, who holds you with a softer grip, his palms rough against your skin but nothing short of gentle as he draws you close, close like he's afraid the crowd will swallow you away.

It doesn't. But he sends you out in a spin, your arms raised above your head, and when you stop whirling around it's Jeonghan who has caught you again, Wonwoo's face morphing into his.

Dark hair shortens and lengthens, turns darker and lighter under the room's neon glow. Rough skin grows smooth, sliding like silk against your waist and neck, and breath pants hot against your face and skin as you dance with two men and two gods, full lips and dark eyes almost meeting yours when—

"Got you now."

Jeonghan smirks, his thin lips curved teasingly as he pulls you flush against him. One arm snakes around your waist and with the other, he grabs your hand. "That was fun, wasn't it?" he murmurs. He spins you under an arm before you can answer, catching you in a dip that shouldn't be possible in this dark room of sweat and dance, but the crowd seems to have parted just for you in the center of the floor.

"Tell me," he whispers silky smooth into your ear. "Tell me you like me more than that upright, uptight, annoying truth-teller of a god."

You match his smirk. "I could tell you that," you reply softly. "Do you really want me to?"

"Depends." His smile widens. "Would it be a truth, or a lie?"

Laughing the way you know he likes, you wrap your arms around his neck. "Now where would be the fun in telling you that?" you croon.

He laughs, then—not his usual mischievous giggle, but a full-bodied laugh that sounds at once so much more innocent and so much more dangerous. "No wonder I like you so much," he says, and for a moment, you think he'll pull you up. Instead, though, he dips you lower, letting his hair dangle over your face. For a moment, you stay there, staring at each other, as the guitar sings soulfully from the stage.

His free hand rises, brushing softly against your face. "Why don't you stay with me?" he whispers, and you're not sure if it's his voice or his fingers that caress your cheek, wind soft, butterfly light, silk smooth. "All day, all night—I'll love you, you know. You'll never want for anything in your life." He leans in, those eyes cast down to your lips.

Your arms tighten around his neck.

The ghost of a smile curves his mouth. You shiver in his hold, precarious, stable, safe and dangerous and threatening—he will never let you go, it's true, but if he does, he'll push you into a void with a laugh and you will

never

stop

falling.

Fae eyes, so disarmingly gentle like the silk sheets that swallowed you as he took you last night, dark hair falling over his face when he finally collapsed next to you on the bed, panting into your skin as you whispered his name into the bare curve of his throat. He'd held you, then. Held you like you were everything he ever wanted. Everything he ever needed.

The girl's words from earlier suddenly flicker through your mind. Who wouldn't want to go with him?

But even in that hold, you still knew that you could fall.

His voice shivers across your skin, lips just brushing against yours. "I'll make all of your dreams come true," he whispers.

For a moment, you almost believe that he's telling the truth.

You allow yourself to smile, one hand dragging along his smooth neck, tugging through his hair before coming to rest on his cheek. "Jeonghan," you murmur, and his eyes flutter—like that one word weakens him, his name from your lips.

The room, dark with sweat, dark with lust, dark with memories forgotten in the fog of dance and drink, blurs in your vision. You press your forehead against his and gaze into those fae eyes always looking, always searching for something and someone you will never know, and he will never find.

You whisper, "You yourself don't even know what you want to find."

He is beautiful, even in his sorrow, in his anger, in his fury—fire burning in his eyes and in the pale skin smooth against your gentle palm. "And do you?" he asks, each quiet word a gunshot against your ear.

You don't have an answer.

His smile widens. And it continues to widen as it meets yours in a soft kiss, lips pressing against yours with a deliberate gentleness. Light as the wind. Warm as a fire. A man’s promise, and a god’s threat.

His lips taste salty. Like the oceans he crossed to find you, only to learn that your face was one he could no longer recognize.

"Damn." He frowns suddenly, pulling away. You blink in confusion as mock disappointment writes itself lightly across his face. "It looks like I've been found. Such a shame." In a moment he's pulled you up out of the dip, spun you around to wrap his arms around your waist from behind. "I'll be waiting for you, my little bird," he murmurs against your ear. He smells of the sea, the sun shimmering on its placid surface. "Treat that as a promise."

"A promise, or a threat?"

You hear his smile even if you don't see it. "Whichever one you'd like."

Something rips him away, then. A gust of wind slashes your face and suddenly you're on a rooftop, facing a very different man. Jeonghan is nowhere to be found.

Wonwoo gazes at you, his expression impassive as always. Hair frames his eyes, dark as night, and in the pale glow of the moon, he looks exhausted.

"Wonwoo." His name slips off your tongue. It feels so right, coming from your voice. The problem is, Jeonghan's also feels right, but in such a different way.

He looks at you, and you see it in his eyes. He knows. Knows what you did last night, knows whose arms you fell asleep in, knows who kissed you just now, even in a dream—

Knows who you let through your walls, even for a moment, in a way you have never allowed him in.

You tilt your head, looking into Wonwoo's dark eyes. Despite the shadows that follow him, he seems softer than Jeonghan, an impression only furthered by the fullness of his lips.

You've kissed Jeonghan. You wonder what it would be like to kiss Wonwoo instead.

"Y/N." Wonwoo's voice rasps your name, low and gravelly and achingly gentle. His arms slip out of his long, dark coat, and as the wind whips your skin he steps forward, draping it around your shivering shoulders.

You remember him earlier in the club, spinning you across the floor. You remember your hand in his, effortlessly leading you around other dancers to the beat. You remember the roughness of his palm compared to the softness of Jeonghan's, and you remember how he looked at you, a strange longing etched into every line of his face before Jeonghan took his place again and kept him away.

Wonwoo doesn't shiver despite the lack of a coat. But when he collapses into your chest, his arms wrapping around your waist like the lifeline of a drowning man, he feels so cold, like not even the sun could ever hope to warm him.

You hold him close, because you are not the sun, and you won't give up even when hope disappears.

Jeonghan lies. It is in his blood. He does it well, and you indulge him, because he is charming, he is handsome, and he is an old god who believes you are his.

You have never been Wonwoo's, however, by his word or yours. What some don’t understand is that you are no one’s to give or take. Nor is he.

"Y/N," he whispers again, like a prayer on his tongue. Like your name is his truth.

"Wonwoo," you murmur in reply, because to you, a mortal, his name is your truth.

He pulls away quietly but takes your hand. You look at your clasped palms, then back up at him. "It's time, isn't it?" you ask, a tear prickling your eye, lips almost curved in a smile.

That hand in yours lets go, and rises to your cheek. Wonwoo's fingers are cold but they begin to warm against your skin. "I'm sorry," he says, and there are tears in the rasp of his voice. He doesn't smell like salt, though. He smells like rain in a storm, grey clouds pouring clean and cold on the ground.

(A storm is what it is, but the sea always hides threats under its skin.)

"It's okay," you whisper as he leans in. "It's always okay."

His lips meet your forehead, as though in benediction. You close your eyes. The night sky disappears and so does he.

You wake up tangled in silk sheets, alone, your clothes tossed on the floor.

The press of Wonwoo's lips on your forehead still lingers softly on your skin.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[blueberri-blu]

𝙷𝚒𝚒!! 𝙸 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛! 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚘𝚏 𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍! ⭐^⭐

(𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚕𝚎-) 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚃𝚖𝚗𝚝 𝟸𝟶𝟷𝟸 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 (𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 𝚡 𝙵! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)... 𝚂𝚘𝚘 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚢 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚕𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚖𝚋𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚙 𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝙶𝙶𝙶𝙷𝙷 𝙸'𝚖 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚝!! ❤~❤ (𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝟷𝟶:𝟺𝟼𝚙𝚖 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝙻𝙾𝙻)

Aaaah Hi!!! Thank you so much ^^ I'm glad you like my writing!

Y E S ! soft but smug Raph is to die for!! This is an awesome idea! Thank you so much for your ask! I loved writing this! (I too had a cuteness overload thinking of it)

Gentle ✿⑅⁠˖

[2012]Raph x gn!reader

✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖

✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖

You and Raph had been dating for a couple months, meaning you going into Raph's room by yourself was normal

When you got to the lair, it was oddly quiet, remembering that Raph had let you know they were gonna take a little longer on their patrol tonight, something about Donnie wanting to find a second centrifuge

You made your way to his room, hoping to snuggle into some of his blankets while you wait for him

Raph had mentioned Chompy before, but anytime you came over, Chompy seemed to be hidden in blankets to keep warm

However, this time is different, as you cuddled up near Raph's bed with a warm blanket, Chompy came up and settled in your lap.

You played with him, and talked to him, about Raph, school, life, everything

You could tell why Raph calmed down when he was with Chompy, Chompy had this.. aura, like he was actually listening and understanding you

You played with him for awhile more, until your eyes grew heavier than you could handle, so you moved Chompy and yourself to Raph's bed

It didn't take long for you two to fall asleep, you faced the wall, with Chompy huddled between your stomach

After a tiring night of covering Donnie, Leo barking orders at him, and Mikey only making his patience shorter, all he wanted was to cuddle up in bed with you

It was rare for him to show you an even softer side of him, his rough exterior covered a more outwardly, but subtle form of him caring and loving you, but beneath that, he would make googly eyes at you, almost matching Donnie and his crush on April

And Raph prided himself on being able to control this side of him, only allowing the closest of his friends, and you, to see him like this

However, as he walked into his room, he could hear his heart pounding in his ears

There you were, asleep, hair a bit messy from tossing and turning, all while Chompy was in his little round position stop your chest, rising and falling with your slow and steady breaths

Raph couldn't help but smile, he was now watching you two from his bedside, taking in the calming beauty of it all

He didn't know how long he had been staring at you, but you seemed to stir in your sleep, raising your hand to Raph's side of the bed, seeing if he was there yet. You opened your eyes only to see Raph with a smug grin on his face. You huffed "Are you just gonna stare or are you gonna join me and our kid?" Raph's heart fluttered even more, but listened to you and got comfortable.

Raph laid his head under your arm, on your shoulder, petting Chompy with one hand, and holding your hand in the other, appreciating the presence of the two beings who seemed to understand him on a level no one else could

By morning, all three of you were still cuddled up, and when Leo went to see where the red clad turtle was, he couldn't help but snicker at the sight, silently calling for his other brothers, they took pictures of you three

But, as usual, Mikey couldn't contain his excitement, and with one of his squeals, woke you and raph up

Raph was... Furious, chasing Mikey down, screaming at him to delete the evidence

You chuckled at their shenanigans, finding it even funnier when Leo sighed and rolled his eyes, ready to act like their Mother Hen.

Little did you know, Raph actually saved one of the pictures, and now has it hidden in his closet, like the softie he is <3

✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖✿⑅⁠˖

I absolutely loved this idea ^^ I am a sucker for soft Raph ♡

[parrythisucasual]

Could you do a jax x fem cathumanoid that loves all types of arts singing,acting,drawing and more. Where jax where jax falls in love with her singing and just here in general?

THREE DAYS WORK ALL FOR YOU <3

Jax x Fem! Cathumanoid! Artsy! Reader

Jax watched from around a corner as the girls (and Zooble), especially you, chatted together. His arms crossed, he watched as you laughed, something Ragatha had said must’ve been funny. He couldn’t understand what it was about you that made him want to be around you. He was fine with Zooble or Gangle, but he couldn’t possibly be more jealous of Pomni and Ragatha.

Why did they get to talk to you so easily? Why were they the ones you’d choose to hang around all day? Hell, you’d even draw pictures for them. You were best friends. The jealousy was eating away at him and he couldn’t comprehend, for the life of him, why.

To him, you were perfect. From the way you smile to the way you walk, act, anything. Jax had never felt anything quite like it. It was both amazingly exhilarating and entirely frustrating at the same time.

He perked up when you motioned to Ragatha that you had to go. You turned away after the two nodded, heading for the second floor, most likely your bedroom. Jax watched your tail flick around the corner. He paused a moment longer, at war with himself. Should he follow? Would that be weird? You haven’t talked to him at all today, shouldn’t he say hi? But would you want him to say hi?

Before consciously making the choice, he was already off, following you. By the time he rounded the corner, however, you were already up the stairs. He picked up speed, hoping to reach you before you got into your bedroom, but no luck. The moment he stepped foot into the living quarters hall, your door clicked shut, a sense of finality about it.

Feeling rather stupid, Jax remained standing in the hall. Turning around now would mean admitting defeat. Besides, if he reappeared near the others, they'd think something was weird, and he really didn’t feel like being stared at. They’d know why he came back. Resigning to go to his room, he froze. A soft melody, rather pretty, caught his attention.

It was faint, very faint, but he knew immediately you were singing. He was too far to make out the words, so he quietly crept up the hall. The closer he got, the more beautiful the melody became. He quickly realized that it was, in fact, a love song you were singing.

He stopped outside the door. He recognized the song, he wasn’t sure how. But it was a duet. His cheeks flushed a bit as you sang, and before he knew it it was the man’s part of the song. He didn’t hesitate, knowing full well he would probably regret it, and sang along.

The silence on the other side of the door was resounding, for a moment, but your voice responded. Softer, more hesitant, but just as beautiful. With each line he sang he felt his embarrassment grow, but he refused to stop because with each line you sang he could hear your confidence grow.

All too soon, however, the song was over, and the two of you were bathed in a heavy, meaningful silence. The doorknob clicked and he took a quick step back. The door creaked open and there you stood, eyes wide and curious as you looked up at him. Your pointed ears perked forward, as if expecting something.

“Sorry-” Jax couldn’t do it, he turned away in his attempt to flee the embarrassment, but you caught him by the crook of his elbow. He glanced at you, face blooming bright pink. You frowned, “Where are you going? You can’t seriously think I’m just gonna let that go.”

“I was sort of-” “Hoping I would?” you interrupt him with a grin, “no way, Bunny.” You twist his arm at the right angle to force him to face you once again, “You can’t just sing that with me and walk off, scot-free.” He grinned nervously, “You mad about it, or something?” he chuckled, trying and failing to display his usual annoying demeanor. 

You raise a brow, “Tell me, Bun,” you ignore his question, “why’d you join? You like me or something?” The look on his face was answer enough, but you sat and waited. He had to get off his high horse and confess eventually, right?

“I came by to say hi, y’know,” he started, trying to sound confident but coming off mostly as awkward, “and, uh, that song’s a duet. Singing it all alone would make you sound stupid or whatever.” You snort, throwing Jax off once again. You were radiating confidence, only making him more flustered.

“Sure, bug guy. Hey, what would you say to grabbing some lunch and heading down to the digital lake?” Jax nodded eagerly at the offer, “Sure why not? Don’t got anything better to do.” “Then you can get the food ready. I have to get ready, after all.” You let him go, slipping back into your room.

“It's a date.”

[kindagayfish]

Do you have any NSFW head cannons for vash? Or maybe what Vash would be like if he were to fall in love? (I am so down bad for him)

A/N: Omg thank you for being patient with how long I took with this and thank you so much for the ask! Vash is just so...so...*screams into pillow* I love him

Contains: Vash being a loveable dork, nsfw headcanons, written with afab reader in mind but nothing is ever explicitly said,

Vash Being in Love and NSFW Headcanons (below the cut!)

Depending on which Vash we are talking about (tristamp or 98) will determine how he acts with you when he’s in love but not willing to admit it.

Vash from the 98 anime is a flirt. He’s having fun without getting attached and loves to tease a bit, acting goofy to get your attention. He catches himself one day with weight behind his words as he compliments you…he also catches himself blushing when you decide to flirt back

Tristamp Vash is a bit softer, more careful. He keeps you at a distance emotionally but is still so kind and attentive. Finds himself growing protective of you under one day you smile at him after saving you and he’s just gone.

Either way he refuses to admit it for a LONG time. People around him get hurt. He’s focused on his brother. There’s just no time for romance.

But I think that’s what finally gets him, the fact that time with you is limited. It takes you a while to convince him that it’s okay to be selfish, to want love, that he deserves it.

His biggest love languages are words of affirmation and quality time...probably followed closely by physical touch.

Vash is always there to lift you up with his words, sing your praise, give you a shoulder to cry on, be a punching bag for your feelings. Whatever you need, Vash is there to provide it.

Loves to hold your hand while traveling

If you ever need his attention, just say his name sweetly, he’ll be at your side in seconds

Might teach you how to shoot if you ask nicely, although he makes you promise not to kill anyone. It brings him a bit of comfort to know you can defend yourself

You catch him staring at you all the time with literal hearts in his eyes. The first few times he gets a bit embarrassed, but after a while will shamelessly admit it

NSFW:

I feel that Vash is a switch but heavily sub leaning. Loves if you're the one calling most of the shots but has no problem flipping the script on you. Actually prefers it some nights where you either haven't seen each other in a while or he's had one too many drinks.

Pathetic, whiny, whimpering, crying, literally doing the most at every given moment.

You'll be able to pull some of those growls and deeper moans out of him though if he's feeling particularly possessive

Everything with him is so soft and sensual, trailing kisses up and down each other's bodies, whispering praises and words of devotion that only the two of you could hear

LOVES when you tug on his hair

Calls you angel, mayfly, pretty girl/boy

Loves any position where he can see your face, and so that he has the opportunity to kiss you at anytime, stealing the breath from your lips as you move your body against his.

He'll curl his body into you when he's close, panting heavily and not able to hold back his high-pitched moans. It's a pretty sight to see, his face flushed red along with his ears, eye shut and furrowed brows.

I love the idea that Vash's wings would sprout any time he is feeling extremely emotional. So of course when you're intimate there is a burst of feathers, the soft appendages acting on their own to embrace you protectively, pulling you all the more closer to him.

Boy's got hella stamina and will opt for multiple rounds. You'll have to be the one to tap out or else he literally will. not. stop. He'll let you fall asleep in his arms if you get too tired. Otherwise his favorite is when he falls asleep laying on your bare chest, your hands running through his hair.

[storiesofsvu]

Back to Home

Emily Prentiss x reader Covers a bingo square. Warnins: language, hurt/comfort, deals with Emily coming back from the dead. Not sure if it's as good as I'd like, but I was just rolling off the fact that I hate that everyone was so upset with *her* rather than Hotch/JJ who lied and kept it secret all that time. And this is what we're left with.

Tears slowly streamed over your cheeks as you sat in the hard plastic hospital chair for what felt like hours. Your vision blurred; your ears buzzed with noise but you never really heard anything anyone was saying as the team slowly began to leave the emergency room. It had honestly even been a bit of a miracle you’d made it there in the first place, getting the unofficial call from JJ once they’d realized what was going on. While you were part of the FBI, you weren’t in the BAU, you normally wouldn’t have been let in on a case like this. The room was practically spinning, your cheeks were stained with the remnants of tears you had cried out as your fingers twisted the diamond ring on your left hand, one that Emily had given you less than a month ago. A promise of a future together, of plenty of memories to build, a life to grow, one that had been torn away from you in a matter of hours tonight. JJ’s words still ringing in your ears, ‘she didn’t make it off the table.’ You felt a sturdy hand wrap around your shoulder and without looking up you could tell it was Aaron, no doubt feeling responsible to make sure you got somewhere safe tonight,

“I’m not ready to say goodbye yet.” Your voice choked out, rough and raw from holding back sobs earlier.

“I know.” He squeezed softly, “but we can’t stay here much longer. Doyle’s still out there, we need to get you back home Agent Kennedy.”

“Agent?” Hotch’s voice rang clear through your mind and you blinked out of your memories.

“Kennedy?” JJ’s voice was softer and fully shook you out of your nightmares and you finally looked back up at the two of them.

“I’m sorry.” You shook your head with an apologetic smile before you gulped, “I’m… not sure I understand…”

“Emily is alive.” The woman’s voice was soft, her small smile even softer as she sat across from you, her eyes attempting to read your face, “she’s been in hiding since Doyle got to her.”

“Like.. witness protection?” You asked. Normally your brain should have been able to wrap around this in seconds, processing it like the agent you were, but every single fibre within you seemed to have come to a halt. If someone had asked you what one plus one was you would’ve answered eleven.

“Sort of.” Hotch replied, “but the important thing is that we now have Doyle in custody.”

“He escaped Korea… are you sure this is even safe?” You finally looked up at him, tears threatening to spill over your cheeks, “I cannot lose her twice.”

“She’s the only one who can help us get to Declan and end this.” JJ assured, her hand reaching out to squeeze at your knee and you nodded.

“The team doesn’t know yet. I just wanted to make sure you got a heads up. She’s on her way here now.” Hotch commented.

“What?!” Your head shot up, lips parted as you sucked in a breath, “she’s… here?”

“We’re meeting in the round table room in fifteen if you’d like to be there. If you’d prefer a private reunion we can arrange that but there isn’t much time, we need to get to work asap.” The blonde offered and you shook your head.

“No…no..” You wiped away a stray tear, “if you give me even just a moment alone with her I’m not letting her go. And I know this is important. Just… give me a minute to.. get myself together.”

“Alright.” Aaron nodded, swiftly moving past you with a brief squeeze to your shoulder so he could gather the team.

JJ stayed with you, knowing that if you were to be left alone you would never move, frozen in your confusion, in your need for this to all be true yet the terror of it being a nightmare. That if you were to leave Hotch’s office you’d find yourself wandering into the roundtable room to find it empty, that this was another one of your recurring dreams. She handed you a tissue, helping you fix your slightly smeared makeup with a reassuring smile before you finally let out a solid breath and gave her a nod. She only dropped your hand once you hit the doorway of the room, letting you find your way around the table to drop into a chair. The team was used to having you around, even after losing Emily you were someone they consulted with relatively regularly and considering the case, no one batted an eye to you being there today.

You did your best to focus as voices began to fill the room, eyes flitting from one person to the next, your heart thundering in your chest so hard it shifted into your ears. No matter how much you tried to listen to the information all it turned into was a pulse in your head, voices drowned out by your brain telling you this was all your imagination. Until you heard the gasp beside you, the voices speaking their disbeliefs, the sound of footsteps stalling in the doorway to the roundtable room and with one deep breath the scent of her shampoo invaded your scenes from across the room.

“But… we buried you…” It was Spencer’s voice that brought you back to reality, surging you back to the day you’d watched her coffin sink into the dirt and you glanced up at him.

A few other comments were said as you tried to gather your composure, watching Emily cautiously moving through the room, her lips spewing apologies as she went. It wasn’t until your eyes finally landed on her that you let out a shaky breath of relief. She was real, she was there and she was suddenly a foot away from you in a now empty room.

Emily’s hands were shaking, her gut churning harder with every step she got closer to you, she could taste the bile creeping its way up her throat. Somehow coming back from the dead was more anxiety inducing than actually dying. She knew this was going to be intense, she knew it would be a lot, and while Hotch had warned her you’d been looped in, he’d failed to mention that you would be in the room.

“I’m so—” She hadn’t even gotten the sentence out before you’d launched out of the chair and for the briefest second she thought she was about to be hit. Instead you wrapped your arms around her, tighter than she’d expected and she let out a little squeak, causing you to leap away, hands shooting to your mouth.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry.” You muttered, “are you okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“No, no!” Her hand jumped up to your arm, tears blooming in her eyes, “I just… I didn’t exactly expect any warm welcomes.”

“So… you’re really okay?”

“It was touch and go for a while.” She admitted after a heavy sigh, “and I wont lie, things still hurt like hell every so often but yeah… I’m healed… I’m okay.”

“Oh god.” You launched back around her once again, your arms wrapping around her shoulder so tightly you thought you’d never let go.

Emily let herself melt into your embrace, she’d been so worried how everyone would react and somehow you ended up being the single person who seemed to not hate her today. You clung to her with every ounce of love you ever had for her before all of this happened and she very happily buried her face into the crook of your neck. Soaking you in, breathing in the scent of your perfume, the feel of your skin against hers for the first time in months, aching to never let you go.

“We don’t have much time.” You murmured, your lips brushing against her neck and she shuddered.

“Why don’t you hate me?” She asked, her voice shaking as she finally pulled far enough away from you to gaze down at you and you choked out a laugh.

“How could I?” Your lips broke into a grin, “I love you, and you’re alive. How could it get better than that?”

“But…. I abandoned you.” Her voice softened, her hand coming up to caress your cheek, “and the team… and they don’t seem too happy.”

“It’s not your fault!” You nearly laughed, “Doyle…” your voice began to shake as tears flooded into your eyes, “I mean…. He did everything he could. If we were further from the hospital… who even knows…” Emily’s chest tightened at your words, her hand squeezing at your arm.

“You.. you were there?” She asked and you nodded.

“Hotch wouldn’t let me on the scene but I was in the ambulance with you. And I’ve never been more scared in my life. But that doesn’t matter.” You brushed away a tear, your hand reaching out to Emily’s cheek to wipe away her own, “what matters is you’re here now. And before you ask again, no, I will never hate you. Em… Doyle thought he killed you and your life depended on him thinking that he did.”

“You’re not mad about Paris?”

“You had no choice.” You squeezed at her hand, “you’d already ditched both of your phones, the only burner you had left no doubt he destroyed before the warehouse. It’s not like you had any way to contact me. The choice wasn’t yours and was made before you were even out of the coma. Sure, I missed you to hell and back, and every inch of my being wishes that I could’ve been put into hiding with you, but… I feel like then it would’ve been obvious you weren’t dead. And that means you wouldn’t be here right now.”

Emily grasped your hands in hers, taking the plunge to lean in and kiss you and your right hand quickly came up to caress her cheek, letting out a soft whimper at the feels of her lips finally against yours again. She never wanted to pull away, wanted to remain in that moment forever but she knew there was so much more to work though. When she finally did she found her hand playing with yours, cool metal meeting the tips of her fingers before she glanced down and her head tilted.

“You’re still wearing your ring?” She glanced up to you and you smiled, a huff of a laugh escaping your lips.

“I never wanted to give up on you.” You shrugged, “because the only future I saw was with you. The only future I wanted was yours. Even if you didn’t come back.”

“Oh sweetheart.” She stroked at your cheek again, her fingers affectionately pinching at your chin, “I never once stopped thinking about you, never stopped loving you.”

“I know.” You smiled before the two of you jumped at the sound of a knock on the door, glancing toward it as Hotch spoke.

“I hate to intrude, but Emily, we need you now.”

“Yeah.” She nodded toward him, glancing back to you who nodded.

“Go.” You squeezed softly at her hands, “just fucking come home to me in one piece this time, alright?”

“I will. I promise, and I don’t make those lightly.” She replied, leaning in to kiss you gently, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

The rest of the day felt like a blur, every time you caught yourself staring blankly at your computer you were certain that you’d dreamt the entire thing. That you would wander up to the BAU’s floor later with a smile on your face only for it to be replace with tears as the fantasy came crumbling down around you. Instead, you were met with extreme relief when seven p.m. was closing in and you felt a warmth on your shoulder, followed by Emily’s perfume invading your senses and you looked up with a bright smile. While she looked a little worse for wear, and you could tell she was utterly exhausted, she was there, a tired smile on her cheeks as she gazed down at you.

A tired smile that grew large when you jumped out of your chair to wrap her in the tightest hug, pressing a tender kiss to her cheek. She had been so scared about coming back, about how everyone was going to react and after getting the cold shoulder from her team all day she was certain that you would’ve had time to process everything and you would be mad too. Instead of cold, she was met with your hand grasping hers, fingers interlacing and she felt the warmth bursting through her body starting from her fingertips shooting all the way down to her toes. A warmth she hadn’t felt in seven months, one that she had nearly forgotten what it felt like and the one that she had missed more terribly than anything else in the world.

“C’mon.” You murmured, squeezing at her hand, “let’s go home.”

———————————————-

@alexusonfire @mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots @overtrred28 @happenstnces @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments s @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @aws-l

[yumikk101]

Blueprints of the Heart Part 4

Featuring: Kaveh×Reader/rivals to lovers/fluff

The atmosphere between you shifted; the air, once heavy with tension, now felt lighter, charged with something unspoken yet thrilling. Kaveh let out a long sigh, raking a hand through his golden hair, clearly relieved to have finally voiced the storm of emotions he had kept hidden for so long. You could feel his guard lowering, just a fraction, in a way you’d rarely seen before

A small laugh bubbled up from your chest. “I never thought I’d see the day when the Kaveh would actually admit he’s envious of me,” you teased, trying to break the lingering tension with some humor. “I was starting to think you were infallible”

He gave you a wry smile, the corner of his mouth lifting in that endearingly cocky way that always got under your skin. “Oh, don’t let it go to your head. I’m still leagues ahead of you when it comes to architectural theory,” he shot back with a playful glint in his eyes

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer until the tips of your shoes nearly touched his. “Yeah? Last I checked, the genius of the Academia had trouble even balancing his budget. Who was it that you asked for help drafting plans last week, hmm?”

Kaveh let out an exaggerated groan, throwing his head back as if your words were a mortal wound. “Okay, okay, you win this round,” he conceded, though the warmth in his gaze never wavered. “But don’t get used to it. I’m only letting you have this victory because I’m feeling generous tonight”

You both laughed, and the sound echoed gently in the quiet night, mingling with the soft rustle of leaves. The stars above seemed to shine just a bit brighter, as if nature itself were leaning in to listen to the two of you banter. For a moment, it felt as though time had stopped, the world narrowing to just the two of you

But then, Kaveh’s laughter faded, his expression softening into something far more tender. His gaze lingered on your face as though he were memorizing every detail. “You know,” he said quietly, “I might joke about being leagues ahead, but the truth is... I’ve always admired you”

You blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. “Admired me? That’s rich, coming from someone who never misses a chance to criticize my work"

Kaveh’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, a rare vulnerability breaking through his usual confident demeanor. “You’re right, I have been hard on you,” he admitted, voice softer now. “But only because... well, maybe I was trying to convince myself that I was better, that I didn’t have to worry about someone like you catching up”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, but before you could respond, he reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered just a moment too long, his touch feather-light but sending sparks down your spine

“I’ve been an idiot,” he continued, his voice dropping to a hushed tone. “All this time, I was so wrapped up in trying to outdo you, trying to prove I was better... when really, all I ever wanted was to be close to you”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Kaveh, I—”

“Let me finish,” he interjected softly, taking a step closer. His gaze was so intense that it felt like he was seeing straight into your soul. “You drive me crazy, you know that? You challenge me in ways no one else ever has. Every time I think I’ve figured you out, you surprise me again. And it’s... maddening. But also... exhilarating”

You stared at him, your breath caught in your throat. The vulnerability in his eyes, the raw honesty you’d never seen before, made your chest tighten. Kaveh had always been your rival, the one you were supposed to surpass, but now... now it felt like he was offering you something infinitely more precious

“You’re so stubborn,” you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Always trying to prove yourself... when you don’t need to. Not to me”

A soft smile curved his lips, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that boyish way that made your heart flutter. “I guess... what I’m trying to say is...” He took a deep breath, his voice almost a whisper. “I’m done pretending that this is just rivalry. I’m done hiding how I feel”

Your eyes widened, but before you could react, Kaveh leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours. The world seemed to pause, the air thick with anticipation

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, his voice barely audible, like he was afraid saying it any louder might break the moment. “I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I was too stubborn to admit it—to myself, let alone to you”

You felt your heart swell at his words, warmth spreading through your chest like a sunrise after a long, cold night. “You... idiot,” you whispered, your voice shaking with a mix of disbelief and joy. “You think you’re the only one who’s been hiding feelings?”

His eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, he looked as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “Wait... you mean...?”

“Yes, you dense genius,” you laughed, tears of relief pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I’ve loved you, too. Through all the banter, the arguments... every time you challenged me, every time you drove me up the wall. I think... I’ve loved you for longer than I even realized”

A grin broke out on Kaveh’s face, one so radiant it felt like the stars themselves had dimmed in comparison. Without another word, he closed the gap between you, his hands cupping your face as he pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was as tender as it was passionate

For a moment, everything else faded away—the pressures of your careers, the debts, the rivalry that had once defined you both. All that existed was the warmth of Kaveh’s lips on yours, the feel of his heartbeat pounding against your chest as if it had been waiting for this moment all along

When you finally pulled back, breathless and dazed, Kaveh rested his forehead against yours, a soft, contented smile curving his lips. “So... rivals to lovers, huh?” he teased, his voice a playful whisper

You couldn’t help but laugh, brushing your nose against his. “Yeah, well... I guess we’re both a little stubborn like that”

“Good,” he murmured, his eyes shining with a mix of mischief and adoration. “Because I don’t plan on letting you go. Not now, not ever”

[angel-of-the-moons]

Hey would it be okay to request something that’s a kind of personal comfort with Hobie? I was diagnosed with schizophrenia last year and I’ve been getting help with it from medication and therapy. But there’s days where it’s just really really bad. Could I request something with Hobie comforting his gf through an episode, but she sees one of her hallucinations lunge at her and she screams in fear, which makes Hobie hold her close and whisper in her ear “It’s not real. None of it’s real baby girl it’s okay. I’m real, I’m real and I’m here and I’m gonna protect you, I promise. Deep breaths baby, deep breaths”. (I hope this is okay to request, if you don’t feel comfortable or unable to fulfil the request I more than understand!) 💙

Oh hunny, as someone who is predisposed to schizophrenia I understand! I myself have some mental problems (not related to schizophrenia) that are very similar and I understand the struggle, especially when you can't get treatment or miss doses of your medication (as is my current case).

I hope this helps you feel a bit better, hon. 💙

A Helping Hand

Soft!Hobie x Schizophrenic!GF!Reader

TW/CW: Mental Illness, Hallucinations, mentions of medication, brief panic attack

A/N: This is based off of my own experiences with this particular issue, as I mentioned. If I misrepresent it in any way, I apologize!

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

It was 3am.

He knew something was wrong the moment he entered your flat, the lights were mostly off, things thrown to the floor.

"Babe?" He called out to you, his Spidey senses immediately went off, the hairs on his body standing as he set his guitar down, tossing his mask onto the tiny dining table.

He called out your name, softer this time as he walked through the flat.

He made it into your shared room, where he found you.

Things were tossed out of your closet, thrown onto the bed and floor, the dresser drawers scattered and half empty. His shoulders sagged softly.

You had another episode.

Hobie walked over to the closet, keeping his voice low.

"Hey, babygirl. You 'right?" He asked, carefully shoving the coats hanging in the closet aside.

The sight of you broke his heart. It did every time.

You were curled in on yourself, scratch marks up and down your arms and legs, your hair messy, probably a bloody scalp from yanking.

"Babe--"

His voice cut off when you screamed, raising your arms above your head.

His Spidey senses kicked in hard, catching the bat before it cracked him in the head, his wide hand encircling the wood.

He didn't get angry. He didn't get upset. He couldn't. Not with you.

Never with you.

"H-H-Hobie?" Your tiny, shaky voice stammered out.

You looked up at him, eyes large, glassy, and afraid; tear streaks down your reddened face, a small dried streak of blood coming from your nose.

You hit yourself again.

"Yeah, baby, it's me." He said to you, gently prying your fingers from the bat, setting it slowly on the ground.

"Scoot on over f'me, yeh?" Hobie asked.

You did as he said, making yourself as small as possible.

He shoved the hanging clothes aside, sitting next to you in the closet, resting the back of his head against the wall.

"Can I put my arm around ya, babe?" He asked.

You nod, sniffling as you feel another crying fit start to bubble up.

Hobie slipped his arm around your shoulders and tugged you against him, kissing the top of your head.

"I-I-I can s-see them, H-Hobie." You whisper, clutching onto him, your knuckles white. "I can s-s-see them."

"I know, babygirl. But nothin' is gonna hurt ya while I'm here, got it? You're always safe 's long as I'm 'round. Take some nice breaths for me, alright?" He murmured into your hair.

You panic, breathing heavily yet again, nails digging into your arms as you try to stem the fear bubbling up inside you. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry--"

"Hush." He said softly. "Nothin' wrong. You didn't do anythin' to apologize for."

"I--I--" You say, your body trembling again.

"...You outta meds again?" He asked gently.

"Yes." You cry softly.

"Hey, hey. It's okay. We'll go to the pharmacy in the mornin', get your 'scripts filled. You'll be okay. We can call the doctor if ya wanna."

"Okay..."

"Now c'mon, I know you," He said, grunting as he stood up, gently pulling you by your hands to stand with him. "You haven't showered since yesterday. C'mon, it'll make you feel better."

And he was right.

You felt the tensions ease from your body as Hobie gently sponged the wounds you left on yourself, you felt your anxiety lift a bit; parting the veil, as it were, as Hobie massaged your scalp, combing out the knots you'd made as he gently scrubbed the conditioners in to smooth things out.

You knew, as long as Hobie was here, the monsters in your head couldn't hurt you. The things you see in your peripheral vision were never going to touch you.

Because as long as Hobie was there, you were safe.

You were loved.

You always would be.

[ofthehands]

The Swing

A short fic about the swing made of railroad ties in the Sawyer's yard. ~3,300 words. Warnings for general Sawyer-isms/ some implied child abuse. It's a little sad, but not too heavy.

It was a hot summer morning. Jedidiah sat outside, with his eyes closed tight, and his hand over his wife’s. It was so hot outside her skin felt warm, and he could almost convince himself she was still alive. Jedidiah had no intention of moving, of ruining the moment he had with his Edith. Until he felt a soft tug at his shirt sleeve. He opened his eyes slowly, and looked down at his youngest grandson. 

The little one was his favorite from the moment he was born. His oldest grandson was too much like him- in the face, in his heart, and in his heavy hands. When Jedidiah looked at Drayton, he could only see his mistakes. The middle boys- the twins- he was a little more fond of. There was novelty in having twins in the family again, his aunts were twins. But those boys were near rabid, and had the thinner, more weaslish features of their father. The twitchier of the two- either Nubbins or Bobby, Jedidiah honestly couldn’t remember- tried to get in his good graces, and would sometimes lay against his leg, calm-like and just talk to him. But the pair quickly fell into wrestling with each other again, and harassing their brothers. It was just their nature, like an old barn cat they would always be a little wild. Junior was special. He had a softer voice, and he was as kind hearted as it was possible for a Sawyer to be. And he had Edith’s eyes. There was something about that- something that got to Jedidiah’s cold old heart. Even though Edith was dead, gone for a long time, their love still persisted, still existed in the world in Junior’s face, and gentle hands, and the way he sang and hummed softly to himself. He was a special boy. Jedidiah loved him more than anything. 

Which was why, when the boy came to him with a problem of any sort, he did his absolute best to fix it. Junior made those soft noises he did, and whimpered, and held something out to Jedidiah. Jedidiah had to pull it close to his face to see it. His vision was going. At his age, everything was going. 

It was a broken chain link, and little Junior kept pointing at it, and babbling, and pointing to something else, something further. Jedidiah stood, slow and unsteady, and Junior grabbed his arm, supporting him gently. 

“Show me.” 

It was the swing. The Sawyers had an old white bench swing. The paint had chipped over the years, and it was rickety as all hell. And apparently, when little Junior sat on it, it broke. Well, Junior wasn’t exactly little. He had always been a big boy, with big hands and feet. Jedidiah figured he would end up the tallest of the brothers, though he didn’t tell that to the twins, who were constantly trying to one up each other, and teasing their older brother with threats of catching up to him soon. Regardless, Junior was a big boy, and it was an old swing. Jedidiah would have to get creative if he wanted to keep it from breaking on him again. The world would keep spinning ‘round, with or without Jedidiah in it, and he wanted to make sure the swing stayed up for his grandson year after year. 

“Don’t worry, Junior,” he said, his voice sounding weak even to his own ears. “Grandpa’ll fix it up.” 

It was the biggest project he had taken on in years. But it felt good. He used to take on things like that all the time- fixing stuff up around the house, and working on furniture, and when they came out, working on cars. But, his hands got shakier, his mind fuzzier, and his body weaker, so his projects had slowed down. It felt good to be doing it again, to be working with his hands and with his body. He had fixed the chain first, reconnecting it where it had broken in the middle with the piece of chain Junior had handed him and a pair of pliers. Junior sat at his side, clapping his hands and chattering occasionally, and watching with rapt attention. Jedidiah looked around at the surrounding trees, but they were all either too high up or too thin to support Junior’s weight long term, especially if he got as big as Jedidiah thought he would. So he started to scrounge around the property, looking for something sturdy enough, with little Junior helping to hold him up. 

It got to noon, or some time close to it, and he had still found nothing. He knew it was around noon, because the twins ran out of the house like someone had lit a fire under their asses so they could harass their eldest brother as he pulled up in the driveway. All that had happened was Drayton had come home from the gas station for lunch before he went back out, but for the twins it was one of the most exciting happenings of the day. Or, at least any day they didn’t catch some poor animal and drag it back into the house to play with. 

“Drayton! Drayton!” yelled the more talkative one. Jedidiah couldn’t honestly tell the twins apart, especially not that far away. The talkative one- Nubbins? Bobby? Jed was pretty sure it was Bobby- lunged at his brother the moment he got out of the car, throwing his whole body at him. The boy was only 12, and Drayton caught him, lifting him off the ground, to his great amusement. The quieter, twitchier one snuck up on him, then jumped at his back, trying to scale him like a squirrel running up a tree. 

“Wh- Goddamn- Nubbins- quit that!” Drayton yelped, tossing the brother in his hands back to the ground, where he started rolling in the dirt, laughing, as his older brother tried to grab Nubbins off his back. Nubbins tried his best to claw and bite his brother like a wild animal, which Bobby seemed to find hilarious, especially as it further pissed off Drayton. Nubbins didn’t break skin when he bit family members, usually, but it was still the kind of foolishness that made Jedidiah a little less fond of the twins. Junior was a good boy, rarely if ever up to foolishness, and whose occasional foolishness was usually related to the schemes of the twins. Drayton managed to dislodge Nubbins, and toss him at his other brother. It seemed to knock the wind out of them, but the boys were up and laughing and trying to roughhouse in a heartbeat, so Jedidiah didn’t worry. 

Those boys were as tough as they come- they probably wouldn’t have a mark on them, and it certainly didn’t ruin their mood. Junior was soft, emotionally- roughhousing too much with him upset him. And Drayton, when he was as young as they were, was a bit soft physically. He didn’t have any playmates, not really, but Jedidiah remembered how the boy had developed a habit of wearing long sleeve shirts in 100 degree heat, shamefully trying to hide handprints bruised onto fragile skin. Jedidiah always thought he might be soft with the boys, and honestly he was softer with his brothers than their father had been with him, but he had a temper that got the better of him at the worst of times. But, the boys had learned that quickly, about their big brother, and they were good at understanding when he was playing with them, and when to scurry like rats, into corners of the house they thought he might not find them in.

 It was good they had a strong man’s presence in the house. Jedidiah had his suspicions about Drayton, and he would put money on his grandson’s status as a confirmed bachelor, but it hadn’t held him back from being a solid male presence in his younger brother’s lives. Which, with their father gone and Jedidiah’s health failing, they would need. Jedidiah worried only about the lack of a woman in the house, but there was nothing really could be done about that. Drayton wouldn’t bring home a wife, and Jedidiah was happy with Edith- he had one true love and a wonderful life with her. He didn’t want more. So the boys would have to make do being raised by their Grandpa and their brother. Jedidiah was confident his boys would turn out fine. He just hoped he was around to see it. 

By the time Jedidiah was done thinking about all that, he and Junior had almost walked all the way to the front door. He used to be quicker. He had been a strong man, and a fast one too. When the old sheriff had come by their house yappin’ about a serial killer Jedidiah had run him down like a dog and beat him to death in one clean hit with the sledge. Nowadays, though, just walking down to the mailbox was an all day trip. He sighed a little, and Junior noticed, looking up at him, and slowing down a little. He made a soft noise, questioning, probably asking if Jedidiah was alright. 

“Grandpa’s fine, boy. Just thinkin’ is all.” He wished Junior would talk, the boy was at least seven years old now and he should have been talking a long time ago, but that just never happened. Jedidiah had gotten comfortable with the idea that he probably wasn’t going to. That was alright. He loved Junior regardless, and he knew, even if he never said the words, that his boy loved him too. 

He needed to get his boy’s swing fixed. 

“Oh, Grandpa, you’re uh- lookin’ bright eyed and bushy tailed today! You uh- you want some lunch? I- I got some fresh sausages today, cooked ‘em myself down at the gas station-” Drayton came up to them, rambling as usual. 

“Boy, I need you to do somethin’ for me,” Jedidiah said, putting a hand on his arm. Drayton’s eyes lit up. He liked to feel useful. “You know those railroad ties, them big logs those fellers that own that roofin’ business got?” 

“Oh, yeah- I- I seen those-”

“I need you to steal me some. Three, maybe four. Can you do that for me?” It wouldn’t be easy, for damn sure. 

“Uh.. Yeah- I’m- I’ll figure it out.” 

Jedidiah had to admit he was a little surprised when Drayton actually managed it. Drayton got home in the evening, a little earlier than expected, and brought the railroad ties with him. Drayton and the twins helped to unload them. Then Jedidiah got to work. He managed most of it on his own, with Junior or the twins occasionally coming out to watch him work on it, or to ‘help’. But, eventually, it got a little too hard to finish on his own. Jedidiah had worn himself out with the measurements, and the construction of the damn thing. He had built it laying down- that was the only way he could build it- and he still needed to get the back legs on the thing, which was going to be a bitch, and then tilt it all back up. He didn’t have the strength to do it, and even though Junior was a big boy, he doubted the two of them could get it done alone. 

“Junior, get your brothers,” Jedidiah said. “All of ‘em.” 

The boys didn’t question what Jedidiah told them, at least not too much. Drayton and the twins held up one of the back legs of the thing, while Jedidiah attached it. His hands were getting shaky, and weak, and he wasn’t sure how much more of this his old body could take. Junior sat in rapt attention, watching as he attached the first one. 

“I want all you little’uns outta the way now- we gonna see if it can hold itself up.”  The younger boys cleared, the less coordinated twin tripping over his feet, and being pulled up by the talkative one. Drayton was the only thing holding up the leg now. He was a grown man, but not an impressively strong man, but he wasn’t struggling. That was a good sign. It was probably holding its own weight. Which needed to happen- Jedidiah might not be able to attach the other leg if this one failed- he just didn’t have that kind of energy. “Alright. That looks good. Get on out of the way, boy.” Drayton moved, and let it hang. The leg stayed up on its own, and Jedidiah grinned. The swing wasn’t the most elegant thing he had ever built, but it was working. They just had to get the last leg on, and then tip it up, and it would be a job well done. 

“G-Grandpa, I-I’m gettin’ tired,” the twitchy twin said. 

“It won’t be much longer, hold still, damnit!” Jedidiah snapped. That was probably a lie. His hands wouldn’t cooperate any more, he could barely hold the tools he was working with, much less use them. Junior made a soft noise, and he looked up, still glaring a little. Junior held out his hand. And Jedidiah relented. 

He guided Junior, step by step, through putting the last leg of the swing on. Sometimes, he had to lay his hands over Junior’s and show him how to do it physically,  but the boy was catching on fast. Jedidiah hated losing control, hated the feeling of his body breaking down. But in that little moment everything felt alright. 

It was more permanent. One day he wasn’t going to be there. He would be dead, though likely never gone, out on the porch next to Edith, preserved, but not present. But Junior would still have his swing. And come what may- stormy weather or the inevitable grip of time- Junior would know how to fix it. Jedidiah knew he wasn’t long for this world. But he also knew his boys were going to be alright. 

They got the last leg attached, and the twins cheered and ran off before he told them to. Fortunately for Drayton, who was still under the damn thing, it was attached well. 

“Boys, get back over here!” Jedidiah tried to yell. His voice didn’t carry enough and the two of them kept springing around the yard. “I thought them little shits was tired,” he huffed. 

“Nubbins! Bobby! Get your asses over here!” Drayton yelled. The boys listened, unenthusiastically, but they listened. 

“B-but we finished it!” said the smaller one. 

“We finished it, we finished it!” the talkative one repeated, jumping up and down. 

“Yeah,” Jedidiah said. “And now we gotta tip it upright.” 

It took all the Sawyers to lift the damn thing, but when it went up, it flew back quick, landing on all fours with a slight bounce that sent the swing itself flying wildly. The younger boys thought that was funny, laughing and cheering and clapping their hands. And Jedidiah felt proud. Until the damn swing hit the frame and all the remaining white paint popped off like some kind of gag. Then he was mad as hell. 

“Damn it  all!” he snapped. He would have stormed off if he had the energy, but he didn’t, so he just stood there sullenly, shaking his head. That swing had been white the whole time they had it- since before any of the little ones were born, before Drayton was born, before Edith-

“W-wait Grandpa, we- we still got some ol’ white paint out in the shed. We could let the boys paint it up nice, and then have dinner, and then it’ll prob’ly be dry,” Drayton said. “Good as new!” It certainly wouldn’t be good as new. But Jedidiah figured it was better than nothing. 

The boys got a kick out of painting the old swing. Drayton fetched Jedidiah a chair, and let him sit out there and watch them while he made dinner. Junior did it nicely, trying to have some artistry to it. The twitchier twin- Nubbins, Jedidiah was half-sure that was Nubbins- tried to do something similar for a while, before his counterpart spattered him with paint on purpose. Then the pair quickly turned to playing with it, painting each other more than the bench. 

“Boys- quit waistin’ that paint. You know how hard that’ll be to get out of your clothes? Your brother’s gonna have a fit when he sees that.” The boys only sort of listened to their Grandpa, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to be mad at them. 

The bench got painted, and he was shocked it turned out as well as it did. They went in for dinner, and the twins told everyone about their day, and the hornytoads they had been terrorizing. It was nice. The boys only got along so often, for so long, but it had been a good day. For once, just for a little while, there was peace. Jedidiah wished there had been more of that. He wished, for just a second, that they didn’t live like they did, that he could pretend the boys had some shot, that they could have good lives, that anything could live in this house, and live well. But he was suddenly overwhelmed with dread. His boys had been shot in the foot at the start of the race. There was nothing they could do, no one in their corner. Except for each other. God, he hoped they remembered to be good to each other.

Jedidiah did his best to hide all that worry- and to chase the dread away. His boys would be fine. Outsiders would hate them sure, but they didn’t need outsiders. They would be fine by themselves. 

After dinner, the family made their way back outside. Drayton touched the bench a few times, and said it was dry, but as Jedidiah sat down it still felt a little sticky. He would have been mad about that, when he was a younger man. But it was a good day. He just sort of chuckled. Junior sat down on the bench with him, starting to swing them both back and forth. Jedidiah was bone tired, nearly asleep right there. Night time had come over them. The stars were out, and bright, and too many to count. He looked out at the field. Drayton was playing with the twins. Jedidiah had seen it happen a thousand times, so he was certain the boys had teased and annoyed him till he got up and chased them around a little, which devolved into a game of tag when they outran him long enough for him to cool down. Well, it was something like tag. Drayton was chasing the boys around, occasionally picking one of them up and spinning him or tipping him upside down, much to the twins’ great amusement. It was nice. Jedidiah rested his eyes for just a minute. He could hear them, still, the boys laughing and squealing as they were caught, and the soft song of crickets. Junior was humming something he couldn't quite recognize. He held his hand out and the boy caught it. He rubbed circles on the top of his little hand, and tried to commit that night to memory. There had been bad times. So many bad times. But there was good. His little family had nothing else. But they had each other. And in that moment, Jedidiah felt like it might be enough. He didn’t mean to, but he drifted off to sleep. He hadn’t even thought he could fall asleep on that swing, didn’t realize it till he woke up inside, in his chair, next to Edith. He could hear laughter from the other room. Trying to be quiet, but filled with just a little too much joy. He didn’t mind being woken up at all. He smiled a little, and took Edith’s hand. 

“We done good,” he told her softly. “In spite of everythin’... It turned out alright.” 

Grandpa didn’t stand again. Drayton said the day he fixed the swing must have been one last ‘hoo-rah’ from his body before it gave out. That made sense to Bubba. He could rarely remember Grandpa standing as long as he did that day, even with the help of one of his grandsons. 

The years went on, and the old swing remained. It was impressively sturdy, Bubba could sit in it with the twins sometimes. But, most often, it was just him and Grandpa. When he could, when his chores were done or if Drayton and the twins kept fighting too loud, Bubba would take Grandpa outside, and sit him down in the chair, and just swing with him. Bubba never knew why Grandpa liked that swing so much that he spent his last big push of energy on fixing it, but Bubba enjoyed it too. And, more importantly, he liked spending time with his Grandpa.

[pullhisteeth]

work it out | eddie munson

summary sometimes sex just doesn't work the way we think it should!!! Eddie does a good job of telling you it's okay. [1.5k]

contains vaginismus/difficulty with penetrative sex, r is embarrassed about it, Eddie is lovely (obviously). angsty fluff, comforting, suggestive content.

-

When you tell Eddie to stop, he moulds into something softer, hard edges shimmering, rounded and warm.

"Oh, honey," he coos, rough hands calm on your bare thighs. "Sorry, shit, here-"

You're ignoring the feeling of embarrassment, the way it prickles under your skin, flames of humiliation licking up your neck and behind your ears. There's a funny feeling in your gut, like there's a Catherine wheel in there, painting your insides with hot sparks of shame.

You squirm under him as he leans back to rest on his knees, his bed creaking low noises beneath the both of you. You're also ignoring the look on his face, hiding your eyes behind your clammy hands so you don't have to look at him.

This isn't how it was meant to go. You'd planned this all the way down to this moment, assured yourself that no matter how difficult you found it, he'd be able to do it. You'd never need to tell him; he'd never need to know.

"Here," he breathes. His hand finds yours, pulls them stiffly from your face. You can't hide from him, though you try, turning your head to the side and into the comforter. The tears are hot and heavy, and you're scrunching your face in protest.

"Here," he persists, pulling on your hands. The room's getting smaller, you can feel it; the walls are suddenly very close, the air thick and you feel more vulnerable than ever, laid naked on his bed, crying because your stupid, naïve plan failed. You let him move you, sitting up and looking down at your knees, far too afraid to look him in the eye.

You feel his fingers and the way he shifts, the bedding moulding around you as he does. Your eyes are still closed, willing the tears back in, surrendering yourself to him as he wordlessly moves off the bed. This is it, you think - the moment you suspected might happen if ever you got into this situation. He's going to leave you because you're broken.

Your breathing is dry and twisted, your heartbeat is loud in your ears, and you're staving off that inevitable headache that comes from crying, so you don't hear him moving around the room. In fact, you're sure you hear the door.

"Here you go," he says, soft though it makes you start. You open your eyes, an instinctual response, and find him standing by the bed, towering over you with a shirt on and a mound of fabric in one hand. You reach out and take it, every movement heavier than the last. You're sure, now, that he really is going to ask you to leave.

You unfurl the pile and find your underwear, though it's wrapped up in a shirt that isn't yours. And then you feel the warm pads of his fingers running down your legs, tentative as though you might bite, but you move with him, stretching them out in front of you. He takes your underwear from your hand and pulls them on; the feeling of being coddled like a child inflames the shame, makes you snap. Maybe you can bite.

"Hey," you say sharply, pulling your legs inwards and working the underwear up over your knees yourself. He flinches, only slightly, and backs away, as you pull the shirt down over your head.

The thick air is fizzy with guilt now. You can feel it coming off you like steam, this horrible mix of remorse, embarrassment, fondness. He's still here. He hasn't asked you to leave yet.

He sits beside you, facing you with one leg under himself, clearly unsure what to do with his hands. The silence is sticky, unwelcoming.

"What's going on, hm?" he says, poking the beast.

When you say nothing, breath loud and expression sour, he says, "You're gonna have to talk to me at some point."

This is not an outcome you had ever envisioned. In your head, there were two ways this could go: it would work, he'd never know any different, and you'd be fixed; or it wouldn't work, he'd realise you're not worth his time, and he'd leave.

You never thought there was a third option, one where it doesn't work but he stays anyway.

"I don't work," you manage, voice thick and wet with tears.

His face morphs into something like concern, perhaps confusion.

"What do you mean?" His words are deliberate, staccato, intentional so as not to upset you further.

"I don't work," you repeat, exasperated. "I'm... broken, or something. I thought it wouldn't matter, but-"

"What do you mean, broken?"

You sigh and look at him, at where he's leaning on one hand planted firmly on the bed, fingers gripping his sheets with white knuckles.

"Nothing goes in," you say in a quiet voice, low so you can hide from the truth. "It never has."

He's quiet for a moment, his eyes on the space between you, before he says, "Why did you never tell me?"

There's a bitterness in his tone that you know he's entitled to. This is important, you always knew that, and you've withheld it from him.

"I don't know, I just... It's embarrassing."

"But we could have prepared for this, I could have-" He stops himself and startles, some kind of realisation dawning. He looks up at you. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," you plead. "No, I'm okay, Eds. It hurt, I guess but it's not... It's not that simple."

"I don't-"

"It's not all... physical. Like, it hurts," you explain, using your hands in some crude kind of gesture to make your point. "But it's also in my head. It's like... I think it's going to hurt, like, I convince myself it will, so in my head, it does."

"But if you force it, surely..."

"Yeah," you sigh. "If I force it then yeah, it can hurt."

He's quiet again, contemplating this information. You watch as his expression changes, slight shifts in his brow or the scrunch of his nose.

"What did you think was gonna happen?" he finally asks.

"I, uh," you begin, a little lost for words. This was not in the plan. "I guess I thought I'd be- I dunno, I thought..."

For the first time since you stopped, he reaches out to touch you. His hand finds yours, pulls again, still just as tender as he was earlier. This time you follow him willingly, wriggling over his bed to sit right beside him, thigh-to-thigh.

"I thought it would just work," you say after a deep breath. "I thought I'd be wet enough, or something."

He laughs softly at the way you cringe at the word wet, the way your shoulders shift up and your face scrunches.

"It doesn't work like that," he says, smiling. "Even I know that."

"I know," you breathe, admitting defeat. "I was kidding myself."

"Hey," he says quickly, turning fully to face you, settling his hands on your neck with his thumbs on your jawline. "I didn't mean that, I just meant... I meant you should have said something."

The tears are back, running quick lines down your cheeks, so his thumbs wipe them as they come. You're sniffling, all wet hiccups and snot, but his face never falters. He still looks at you just the same.

"I thought you'd hate me," you whisper, glad for the relief of honesty.

"I could never hate you, sugar."

"But we can't have sex," you whine, sad about both the fact that you're sure you're not normal, and also that you can't give him what you think he deserves.

"Hey," he scolds, his voice still fond but strict. "Sex isn't just dick in vagina, you know that, right?"

"I know, but-"

"And I'm here for good. You're not gettin' rid of me, so we can work on this, yeah?"

You look him in the eye and find the face of a man who really does love you, even if he hasn't said it yet. Even if it has only been a couple of months.

"This is why you'd always stop me?" he asks.

"Yeah," you confirm. "I mean, I also just like you eating me out, but..."

He breathes a laugh, and then your name with some kind of sorrow. "You really should have said, I'd never have even tried, I'm sorry."

"No," you protest. "I'm sorry for not telling you."

You lean into him, let your body fall onto his. He pulls you in with firm arms around your shoulders and lifts you, gently, so you can sit in his lap with your legs either side of his own.

"Thank you," you murmur into his neck, your own arms around his chest, squeezing tighter when you feel him squeeze back.

He kisses the crown of your head and says, "'S'okay. You're fine just the way you are."

You sit like that for a while, slotted into his space just how you like it, knowing that you'll work this out between you, eventually, and that Eddie isn't leaving, not yet. Not ever.

"Also," you hear him say. His voice is a drawl, low and suspicious, so you sit up and look at him. You find that stupid smirk on his face and resist the urge to kiss him.

"What?" you pry.

"This is fine," he says, eyes raking up and down your body, "Because I happen to like eating you out just fine."

"Eddie!"

-

[depressedhatakekakashi]

A lil ficlet for Kakashi’s Victory in the Kakashi Vs Lee poll! A hard earned victory that should have both sides proud because we all fought for our favs tooth and nail 🥰🥰🥰 @narutocharacterpolls

The numbers glimmered across the board. Each one shinning brightly as Lee read them over and over again, committing them to memory.

He’d wanted so badly to win. To prove to everyone that he was the best, yet as he looked at the numbers he couldn’t help but feel proud.

1,169 votes for him and 1,339 votes for Kakashi-Sensei.

Even though he’d lost, he still felt like he’d proven himself. To keep such a close score with someone as cool as Kakashi-Sensei was amazing.

There was no reason he should feel disappointed with such an impressive score.

“Look,” Kakashi-Sensei stepped up to his side and gave Lee an apologetic look. “I didn’t think this would happen. I honestly thought that- well…” he waved a hand towards the scoreboard. “I thought people would finally choose the right person.”

A fire sprang to life in Lee’s soul when he heard those words.

“You…” squeezing his eyes shut, he tried his best to contain his excitement, but it was hopeless. There was just so much he wanted to say. So many things that needed to be said so that Kakashi-Sensei could understand just. How amazing he was. It wasn’t long before his excitement spilled over and his eyes flew open, causing Kakashi-Sensei to take a cautious step back. “You really are as amazing as Gai-Sensei says!”

“I-“ Kakashi-Sensei stared at him as if he’d just said the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. A reaction that Lee fully expected based on all of the things his Sensei had told him about his eternal rival over the years.

“You won!” He threw his arms up into the air and cheered. “And it was an impressive win! One worthy of celebration!”

The whole competition had been very close. There was never a moment when Lee had given up hope on pulling ahead, but in the end Kakashi-Sensei had kept his small lead.

“It was the most passionate poll so far!” A grin split across his face before the memory of Tenten’s last competition sprang to memory. “Well, the second most passionate poll, but still! There is nothing for me to feel ashamed of!”

For a second Kakashi-Sensei simply stared at him, bewildered by his enthusiasm. Then the bewilderment washed away from his face, replaced by a fond cheerful smile.

“I guess it was,” a light laughter filled the air. “Well, i suspect you’ll be cheering for Gai in the next round?”

Lee’s smile only grew wider. “Of course!” Jumping back a foot, he extended his right arm out in front of himself and gave Kakashi-Sensei a thumbs up. “It will be a spectacular battle! A face-off between eternal rivals!”

His enthusiasm was greeted with more laughter, this time a little softer and a lot warmer.

A laughter which he would never have expected to come from someone as cool as Kakashi-Sensei, but which seemed to fit him perfectly.

“It’ll certainly be something,” he agreed. “Oh, and Lee?”

Lowering his arm, Lee tilted his head to the side. “Yes?”

“Make sure to really pump Gai up to everyone,” closing his eyes, Kakashi-Sensei offered a soft, friendly smile. “Winning against you was bad enough. I don’t want a repeat of that against Gai, got it?”

He wanted to argue.

To assure Kakashi-Sensei that his win was well earned and just.

The problem was, he knew his words would fall onto deaf ears. He’d seen his Sensei try so many times in the past to convince his eternal rival of his awesomeness, yet it never seemed to work.

If Gai-Sensei couldn’t manage it, what hope did Lee have of succeeding?

‘Don’t think like that’ he scolded himself, shaking his head to rid his mind of such terrible thoughts. ‘Kakashi-Sensei doesn’t need to hear it, but maybe seeing how much people love him-‘

An idea came to him at that moment.

A brilliant idea which he was sure he could convince his teammates to agree to. One which involved supporting their fantastic Sensei while also supporting his best friend at the same time.

“You got it,” He agreed, grinning even wider than he had before. “I’ll go get started now. See you later, Kakashi-Sensei!”

With that, he was gone. Nothing left but a trail of dust trailing behind him as he headed to his next destination.

If everything went well, Gai-Sensei would win his next match but Kakashi-Sensei would walk away a more confident man.

A man who maybe finally understood just how fantastic he was.

[heartofspells]

dorlene, any rating but I wouldn’t say no to E 👀, just being a little unapologetically unhinged and better than everyone else take that as you will

Hi, I love you for this! Dorlene, my loves.

She flies through the door in a huff and a blaze of tiny but still surging fury, crashing as high as a tidal wave. Spitting with anger and nearly unhinged aggression, Dorcas watches from the arch of the entry as Marlene rips her cloak away from her body, slinging it down as she rants, voice steadily reaching a pitch that would cause most people's ears to ache, but not Dorcas. She only smiles, a slow-forming thing spreading across her features.

"If he thinks he can get away with this, he's got another thing coming," snarls Marlene, pacing their sitting room as she works herself into a proper strop now that they're alone, Dorcas tracking her movements silently, blonde hair flipping madly behind her, whipping around every time she rounds on her heels. "Old kook. What does he know? Just because we're women doesn't mean he can sideline us! D'you know what we ought to do? We should just barge our way into one of the other's missions, take it over for ourselves. Leave Fenwick with the bloody boring patrols, or Black and Potter, the insufferable wankers. All they do is cause trouble, just like they always have. They should be benched, not us!"

Her hands are slashing around her face as she rages, fingers eventually wrapping around her wand, thrusting it through the air without truly using it, only flares of sparks emerging from the tip. A more cowardly person would worry, possibly cower, but Dorcas is enchanted.

"And the Prewetts! They think they're so fucking brilliant, but what have they – what are you smiling about?"

Blinking, a bit startled for being caught, Dorcas tries to school her expression into something a bit graver, but it's useless. Marlene's cheeks are flushed a glorious pink, blue eyes livid, filled with a sweltering fire, but it only tingles inside Dorcas, warming her from her center outwards.

"You," says Dorcas simply, taking a step forward, finally allowing the door to close and lock behind her. "Just you."

Huffing, Marlene crosses her arms over her chest stubbornly, but she remains still, eyes watching each of Dorcas' steps as she advances. "This isn't the time, Cas," she grumbles. "I'm happy you're so enamored, I really am, but they – "

"I know," interjects Dorcas, levelling with Marlene, her hand wrapping around the other woman's, light against dark, a sublime, breathtaking sight. "I know, Marls." Her fingers stroke over soft skin, catching on a few callouses left behind from too much time spent on a broom during their schooldays. Marlene's grip slowly loosens, her wand eventually clattering to the floor as her breathing spikes between them. "We'll deal with it because you're right. We're just as good as they are, but right now, I'd rather admire my girlfriend."

Marlene huffs out another sound, mild irritation obvious, but waning quickly, her cheeks shifting in their color, darkening a little as her eyes follow their example. "You can admire me as I rip their heads from their necks," she mutters sourly, but it lacks any previous heat, a catch in the middle as Dorcas' fingers glide slowly up the length of her arm, trailing her neck, conforming around her jaw.

"I will," promises Dorcas, lips grazing the apple-red of Marlene's cheek, just beneath her eye, watching as her lids flutter closed. She smiles against the skin as her hands suddenly push Marlene backwards, bouncing onto their sofa, the other woman releasing a surprised shriek of laughter as Dorcas spread over top of her, bodies merging easily.

Her mouth finds another, the kiss slow and deep before it follows a path down the sweeping expanse of a pristine and delicate neck. Fingers slither down, searching and locating softer flesh beneath the fabric of a shirt, infinitely more giving, warm to the touch, majesty made to be worshipped as Marlene hums, arching upwards.

"Rage pretty for me, love," murmurs Dorcas, and Marlene laughs again until it stutters into a breathy gasp.