#giving him a kiss on the back of his head as you place the cup on his desk...

[acciotaitlynn]

“The big bad head of Onychinus, reduced to putty for my pussy,” you murmur before playfully adding, “What would your enemies say if they could see you now?” Sylus growls and nips at your inner thigh before answering with a kiss to your clit. “They’d say I’m one lucky bastard to have a woman like you,” he says before slipping his tongue inside you again. “And they’d be right. You’re mine, kitten... All mine.” 

⟢ sylus×fem!reader

⟢ sexual content, 18+, anniversary sex, light bondage, face fucking, pussy eating, toys, teasing, squirting, kitten/sweetie used, pure smut, it's super soft

⟢ 2.3k wc

Your face lights up as you hear Sylus’s comforting footsteps approaching you in the hallway, a giggle escaping your lips when he enters the room and wraps you in a warm embrace. His strong hands glide down your body, pulling you closer for a kiss. You can hardly breathe when his forehead rests against yours, his voice affectionate as he murmurs, “Happy Anniversary, kitten.” 

With a smile, he leads you to the bedroom, his arm around your waist and a secret surprise waiting. Whispering in your ear to close your eyes, he guides you to the center of the room. He holds you close, his voice hot and playful in your ear. “Alright, you can open them now…” 

The space is bathed in soft candlelight, casting romantic shadows across the walls and floors. The scent of roses fills the air, their crimson petals scattered everywhere. Sylus’s record player softly spins a romantic tune, the gentle melody making your heart race. Your gaze falls on your bed, adorned with luxurious ties and bindings made from silk and leather. 

Sylus’s hands slide up your sides, drawing you closer as he kisses your neck. “When did you even have time to do all this?” you ask breathlessly. 

“I have my ways, kitten,” he murmurs, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “I wanted to make tonight special for us.” He turns you around in his arms, cupping your face in his hands and gazing into your eyes. “You deserve to be worshipped,” he says, his tone husky and simmering with emotion. “And that’s exactly what I’m going to do...” 

Capturing your lips in a soft kiss, he takes your chin between his fingers, guiding your gaze to the sheer black lace lingerie on the bed. He crafted it to trace every curve of your body, with a plunging neckline connecting to an elegant choker adorned with a single crimson gemstone—the same shade as Sylus’s piercing eyes. “Like what you see, sweetie?” he murmurs, his voice dripping with desire as his hands grasp your hips, giving your ass a playful squeeze. “Why don’t you go try it on for me?” 

Excitement courses through your veins as you slip into the delicate lingerie. Sylus’s eyes follow your every move, hungrily taking in every inch of your body. With a seductive sway of your hips, you comply with his request to show off the back. His gaze roams from the crimson corset, hugging your curves to the way your ass moves beneath the fabric. A soft groan escapes his lips as he pulls you closer, his arousal evident against your lower back. 

“I can’t wait to rip this thing off you,” he growls, nipping at your ear before trailing kisses down your neck. “I just put it on and you already want it off? You paid a pretty penny for this thing,” you tease, grinning up at him, adoration shining brightly in your eyes. 

Chuckling, he leans down to capture your lips in a tender kiss, his hand sliding up to cup your breast. “I’d pay any price for you,” he murmurs against your lips. His other hand trails down your body, brushing over the dampened lace covering your core. “Besides,” he says with a smirk, “I made sure to give myself easy access.” He flicks open the crimson buttons that cover you, exposing your soaked sex to him entirely. 

Silk restraints wrap tightly around your wrists and ankles, holding you firmly in place as he kneels between your legs. His hot breath tickles your inner thigh before his tongue starts a painfully slow trail toward your pussy. A sly grin spreads across his face when you squirm in your restraints, spreading yourself wider for him.

“Put that pretty tongue inside me, baby? Please?” you whine, your hips jerking toward his mouth. But instead of fulfilling your request, Sylus blows a cool breeze across your flushed skin. “Patient is key, kitten…” he teases before tenderly kissing your clit, his tongue trailing down to your entrance to tease you with light flicks. 

“I could spend all night devouring this pussy of yours,” he growls softly, sliding his tongue inside you and eagerly drinking up your juices. Your head falls back, a desperate whimper escaping you as you grind shamelessly against his mouth. “It’s all for you, Sy,” you moan, causing Sylus to groan in response, his cock throbbing in his pants. “I love how your body reacts to my touch,” he muses, pulling back to admire your trembling form and glistening folds. 

Leaning back in, he captures your clit between his lips and sucks gently, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. You can hardly catch your breath as you watch him pleasure you under the glow of the candlelight, his sharp features standing out and his crimson eyes glowing back at you from between your thighs. A frustrated groan escapes you as you throw your head back, hitting the pillow with a sigh. 

“You’re way too pretty, Sylus… it’s infuriating,” you complain, grinding your hips harder against his mouth. A gasp escapes your lips as his teeth lightly graze your clit, and you whimper, “It’s not fair to tease me like this… to keep me from having you…” Sylus chuckles before gazing at your flushed face and heaving chest. 

“You have no idea how much I want those pretty hands of yours on me right now,” he murmurs, his own hands sliding up to grasp your hips. “But I’m not done with you yet. Tonight, I want to hear you beg for my cock.” You watch as he teases your clit with lazy circles of his tongue, his slow smile against your slick heat causing your body to tremble. 

“The big bad head of Onychinus, reduced to putty for my pussy,” you murmur before playfully adding, “What would your enemies say if they could see you now?” Sylus growls and nips at your inner thigh before answering with a kiss to your clit. “They’d say I’m one lucky bastard to have a woman like you,” he says before slipping his tongue inside you again. “And they’d be right. You’re mine, kitten. All mine.” 

He groans, watching your empty pussy clench around nothing at his words. Reaching for the nightstand, he retrieves a sparkly crimson dildo, its size and shape familiar to both of you. He gives a satisfied smirk when he sees your look of disbelief. “What can I say, kitten? I wanted to leave a piece of myself with you, even when I’m not here,” he murmurs, teasing your entrance with the tip of the toy. 

“You want this inside you? Want me to fill you up with my cock?” he growls softly, his eyes darkening with lust. You spread your legs wider, your pussy grasping at air. “Yes, baby… please?” Chuckling, he slowly inserts the toy into you inch by inch, his own arousal growing as he watches the dildo disappear inside you. 

With a soft kiss on your inner thigh, Sylus whispers, “How does it feel? Having me inside you?” as he begins to pump the toy in and out of your pussy. “I like it, but it’s not as good as when it’s really you,” you pout. 

He smirks, leaning in for a soft kiss. “It’s torture to not be inside you, kitten. But I want to hear you scream my name first,” he confesses against your lips, his hand still working the toy inside you. You can’t help but watch the toy glisten as it stretches you wide.  

“Even your cock is beautiful, Sy,” you murmur in a dreamy voice, completely drunk on the pleasure he’s giving you. Chuckling at your admiring gaze, he gently kisses your forehead. “Only you could make a compliment about my cock sound so sweet, kitten,” he teases softly, pushing the toy in deeper inside you with a grin. 

“You’re so tight… I can’t wait to feel that around my cock,” he groans, his own excitement growing with each passing moment. When he senses your body tensing up, he takes your clit between his teeth. The toy deepens inside you, pulled even further by your tightening walls as waves of pleasure crash over you. 

“That’s it, kitten… Let go for me,” Sylus whispers, thrusting faster and lapping at your sensitive bud with his tongue. Your orgasm rocks through you, exploding behind closed eyelids and leaving you breathless and trembling. With a soft, desperate voice, all you can think is, “I want to taste you too…” 

Sylus releases a groan as he pulls the toy from your body, tossing it aside. Swiftly freeing his throbbing cock, he sits on your chest, positioning himself at your lips. “You don’t have to beg for that,” he murmurs, guiding the leaking tip into your waiting mouth. 

“Open wide for me… Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours,” he growls softly, his fingers tangling in your hair. Pleasure courses through both of you as he begins to move his hips. “Your mouth feels so good,” he whispers as he watches his cock disappear between your lips, his gaze locked with yours. 

Your heart swells with happiness at pleasing him like this, at being used by him in such an intimate way. When he pulls out, giving you a chance to catch your breath, you smile sweetly, your fucked-out expression only adding to his grin. “You fuck so good, Sylus… Is there anything you can’t do? I’m about to come again just watching you take me like this.” 

“Flattery like that will get you anywhere, kitten,” he chuckles, sliding himself back into your mouth and thrusting deeply down your throat. “You take my cock so well.” His grip tightens on your hair as he quickens his pace, fucking your face with abandon. 

His other hand finds your clit, tracing firm circles, sending you over the edge in an instant as you choke around his cock. He groans, cursing softly as your throat tightens around him during your climax, the sensation hurting him toward his own release. With a final thrust, he empties himself deep inside you before pulling out and stroking his shaft. 

The last drops of his cum land on your lips before he captures them in a passionate kiss, savoring the mixture of his taste with yours. As soon as he releases you from your restraints, you climb on top of him, straddling him as your lips find his once again. The strangled sound he makes when you take him inside of you sends shivers down your spine. 

His hands grip your hips tightly, grounding you as you begin to ride him. Your fingers trace the contours of his face as you whisper, “You are my safe haven, Sylus.” With a soft kiss, you add, “Thank you.” A tender smile graces Sylus’s face as he gazes up at you. “I’ll always keep you safe, kitten,” he promises before kissing you again. With a satisfied smile, you balance on the balls of your feet, bouncing on top of him. Entranced by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you, Sylus growls with pleasure.  “I fucking love watching you take my cock,” he growls, meeting your thrusts with his own. 

“Good… because I’m pretty sure I was made to take it,” you breathe out in bliss. The sound of skin slapping together echoes in the room as Sylus groans, his cock pulsing at your words. “Fuck… Keep talking like that, and I’m gonna…” he trails off. 

As his groans grow louder, his cock pulsating within you, Sylus guides your hips faster and faster. “You want my cum, kitten? Want me to fill this tight little pussy?” Your answer is breathless but certain: “More than anything.” He pulls you close, holding you tightly as he buries his face in your neck, releasing a hoarse shout. 

His hot cum fills you up, leaking around his shaft as his hips continue to thrust long after his pleasure subsides. “That’s it, kitten. Take every last drop,” he murmurs before flipping you onto your back and driving into you with even more force. 

His mouth greedily captures your moans and whimpers with a smile. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips, never breaking eye contact as he relentlessly fucks you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you match his movements, tears streaming down your face from the overwhelming pleasure. 

Your release drenches both Sylus and the sheets beneath you, spurring him on to take you even harder. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you come,” he breathes in awe, watching as you writhe under him. 

With one final thrust, he empties himself inside of you again, his hot release mingling with yours. You admire the sweat and slickness on his abs and can’t help but whisper, “...Holy fuck that’s hot.” 

Sylus chuckles, gently kissing your forehead before flipping you back onto his lap. “Ready for round two?” he teases, his arousal quickly returning. 

This time, you make love slowly, savoring each touch and kiss between sighs of pleasure. In between whispered words of love and appreciation, you thank him for the unforgettable night. 

Sylus gives you a warm smile, holding you close as your bodies move together. “I’m happy I could give it to you,” he murmurs before capturing your lips again. “Unfortunately, I have to leave for business tomorrow morning,” he adds regretfully. 

You hum in understanding, leaning in to kiss him as his hands grip your ass tighter, urging you to ride him harder. Breaking the kiss, his whisper is hot against your lips, “I hope you weren’t planning on getting any sleep tonight, kitten...”

[xoxochb]

percy jackson 🤝🏼 jameson hawthorne

——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“if it’s heads, you’ll kiss me, and if it’s tails I’ll kiss you.”

you ponder it for a moment. “why bet if we’re gonna kiss either way?”

percy shrugs. “for fun?”

“hand me the coin.”

you outstretch your hand and flex your palm in and out to indicate a grabbing movement, beckoning him to give you the coin. without a moment, he places it in your palm.

you take it with your opposite hand and flick it, watching it fly up and you catch it on the back of your unoccupied hand, placing the prior palm over it.

“ready?”

percy nods. you remove your palm to show heads.

“heads! I kiss you!”

you drop the coin on the bed, reaching out and cupping percy’s face, pecking his lips quickly. you go to pull away but he grabs your wrists and attempts to force your mouth back onto his. you break free of him anyways.

“that’s not fair,” he whines.

“you don’t say how long it had to be…”

“that wasn’t a real kiss though, it didn’t even count!”

he lazily grabs your arms, dragging you to lay back on top of him on the bed. there is barely any space remaining between both of you.

you give him a look of disapproval. “the coin didn’t flip tails.”

“for a second just pretend it did.”

you open your mouth to protest but his hand swiftly finds the back of your head, pulling your mouth back into his and leaving you no room to pull back this time.

and you do, pretend for more than a second that the coin had flipped tails.

[phone4pills]

𝒓𝒐𝒃𝒐𝒕!chris gets a new camera and records memories that he can play back when you’re not around

When you’d bought the camera and given it to Chris for New Year’s he was over the moon. And of course so were you now that you’d figured out a way to record memories and store them on a USB stick. Then you could upload them to Chris’ ROM.

CLIP 01 — 0:19

you had an hour left before the science fair opens. the sports hall at your college was bustling with excitement and exploration. you had spent so many late nights with Chris building the parts of the mini rocket and testing them to make sure that they would no doubt work on the day of the showing. Chris, who had tagged along was filming you as you paced about making sure everything was in place. he was just about to say something when your face dropped. “a part is missing. Chris put that fucking camera down and help me find it!”

CLIP 02 — 0:05

you’re busy working away on one of your assignments and Chris is just all over you. the short clip shows when he comes at you from behind, wrapping an arm around your front and you give his head a scratch, kissing his face.

CLIP 03 — 0:32

the sun peaked through the window as Chris tiptoed into your room. it was finally the weekend and you warned him you were going to sleep until the late morning, around 11. Chris got closer to your bedside, trying not to giggle and he reached to pull the cover off you. before he could even touch the duvet, your hand clawed down around his wrist and with a good amount of effort, you pulled his weight down on the bed, stroking his hair as he lay sprawled over you. then you took the camera, shut it off, and placed it on the nightstand. p.s the two of you slept until 2 pm.

CLIP 04 — 0:24

a late nights drive to McDonald’s turns into a shit show when Chris can’t help himself and drinks down your whole cup of Pepsi. the drive home is silent as Chris clutches the camera with a pout, completely unaware that it’s recording as you speed down the lane towards your house, the last thing caught in the audio being “c’mon. gotta get that stuff out of you before you become dangerous.”

CLIP 05 — 0:45

it’s no surprise that the longest clip is Chris admiring you whilst you do the simplest of tasks. you hum away, watching the pasta boil on the stove as Cigarettes After Sex with lays in the background. and your robot boy watches intently, a lazy smile on his face as though it were superglued there. there’s a small view of the Pokémon cards he’d been organising that lay in order of rarity and issue on the table. this clip is Chris’ favourite because it reflects your time together almost perfectly. just the two of you, getting on with your lives. but it was so much more meaningful when you were in each other’s presence. it was so much more comforting.

while I’ve been procrastinating on writing actual fics, here’s a little idea I had recently. hopefully robot!Chris will be making a MASSIVE comeback this year. and I encourage you guys to write your own robot!Chris ideas and blurbs as long as you tag me !! inspired by @kiemiu ‘s ‘vids your bf sends you’ works LOVE THEM SM.

- ©phone4pills

[star2fishmeg]

need some luke x inexperienced reader PLEASE just too good

Luke's hand lay under your t-shirt, flat against your spine, his other cradling your nape with your pyjama shorts clad thighs straddling his lap and curls tugged by your fingers as lips move and lap in languid motions. Elongated moans muting any noise from beyond your bedroom door, volume increasing when his hand slides from your neck and over her breast, cupping and giving it a soft squeeze before you part, hot breaths panting onto the surface of your swollen lips and eyes flickering to each other. He can't begin to explain the heat that surges through him every time you kiss him, his head just floats straight to cloud nine and ears blocked everything but the sounds you make when you grind down on him experimentally.

His hands fall to the hem of your t-shirt, his old Michigan one that's you've been stealing since you met as freshman, fingers wrapping around the fabric.

Luke's voice drops low, raspy and still catching his breath slightly, "Can I?"

"Only if you will too..." you mumble, retracting your arms away from his hair.

He lets the fabric go and pulls his own shirt over his head first before removing yours. You think about looking away but it's Luke, his eyes are too soft and he's gently running his hands along your back so, when you go to meet his gaze, you're surprised to see him locked on your breasts. He licks his lips before pressing sweet kisses to the flesh, over the top and into the valley, hands finding their way to cup over the lacy bra and thumbs rubbing over your nipples. He can't help it, he's obsessed with them, they're the best pillows he's ever had and nuzzling his face in them is a past time, but without the barrier of a t-shirt, his hairs stand on end and his cock twitches.

"Look at you, beautiful." He groans deeply when his nose presses in the valley, pushing your breasts together to bury his face entirely. You feel his lips, his mouth trailing sloppy and wet kisses wherever he can, teeth grazing and buds pebbling under the padding.

"Lu," your hands find his hair again, nails massaging into his scalp as his teeth nip the flesh, "can...can we try something?"

He raises his head and kisses the corner of your lips, "What is it, baby? You sure?"

"I...fuck, this is hard...I want you, uh, to suck my tits. Please. Apparently, it's good and, uh, you like my tits a lot so, like..." you notice the way his eyes sparkle, elated that you've finally granted him full access to his favourite place to sleep.

"Yeah...oh yeah, I can do that, shit, baby." His lips quirk into a crooked smile, excitement fizzling in his chest and he plants both hands on your lower back, pulling you closer on his lap and sliding his palms up your spine. Freedom fills your back, the band of your bra unclasping and you can't bear watch it hit the floor, not that you get the chance before Luke's peppering your cheeks with kisses. "You sure you’re, okay? Just say so and I'll stop if you aren't diggin' it, okay?"

"Okay-oh!" you moan abruptly, it only taking him a split second to hear your consent before his warm mouth latches to your nipple, hand pushing against your spine and guiding you to arch into him.

Your eyes flutter close, jaw faltering open with shockwaves of euphoria as his tongue swirls around your bud, the tip flicking between phases swirling and suckling. Your hips buck into him when he groans, the vibration's a sweet, pleasurable paradise through your nerves and your fingers grip his hair harsher, keeping him into your chest.

When he pulls off with a wet 'pop', you whimper as the cold air brushes your nipple, now soaked with saliva and swollen but before the words leave your throat, he's taking your other breast into his mouth, hungrily. Sometimes you forget how strong he really is, but you're thankful he reminds you by pushing you backwards, your back hitting the mattress and situating his biceps either side of you, lips sucking firmly and tongue moving in circles around your nipple.

"Luke," you whine out with a smile, "oh, Lu."

His large palm encases your free breast, groping and taking the bud between his pointer and middle finger, rolling it to draw those high-pitched whimpers you love to torment him with so much. The sensations new, so new but tremendously stimulating with bursts of craving in your stomach, those tingles that feel like flips. You want him to touch you like this all the time, relish how he loves every part of you.

Pulling away again, Luke rasps, looking at you with his glossy eyes and flushed cheeks, "Fucking love your tits, baby. Did I do okay?"

"I didn't say stop, do it again." You push his head back to your breast, his chuckle intoxicating but not as addicting as his tongue flicking over your nipple again, lips suctioning over the wet surface of your skin and your head tips back into the sheets, mewling out his name while his hand and mouth work in tandem.

[wingedhallows]

pairing: vi x reader | 1k words plot: violet does not appreciate when a guy touches what's hers authors note: this is messy and my very first vi work, send help

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“I love how you smell” violet muses against your skin as you sit perched on her lap. The sweet words this woman whispers to you makes your chest all fuzzy and warm and you couldn’t complain.

You hum softly, leaning back against her and her strong arms sneak around your waist. She loves having you in her lap, absolutely adores it. Her hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt, the skin beneath warm and smooth. 

“You two make me sick” Ellie makes a gagging noise and throws back her beer. “Get a room, mh?” Abby laughs and passes the joint to a girl beside her.

Damn jocks, a sweet moment and these brawly hockey players yap about it to no end.

“Fuck off” Violet laughs and nuzzles her face into your neck. Oh, how you loved her so close, so warm around you.

You place a hand over hers and grab your drink, you’re way too sober for this. These frat parties would be the last thing on a friday night for you if it weren’t for Vi, the star player and your adoring girlfriend.

You set your cup down and pat Vi’s arm. “I’ll get us another drink, what’d you want, baby?” She places a kiss to your jaw and hum’s

“A beer, love. Hurry back, yeah.” Her voice rich and husky in your ear. With a small smile you get up from her lap and walk into the kitchen, not without Vi giving your arse a playful smack, of course.

Vi’s eyes follow you, her gaze stuck on your bum in that sin of a skirt. She’d eat you up right then and there, god have mercy on her.

“Mate, you’re drooling.” Ellie snickered beside her and she cracked a smirk.

“How can I not when I've got a girl like her?” and she meant it, you were the hottest girl around, not even Cait could hold a candle to you.

And christ, she really wanted to lift that skirt and ravish you over that counter.

Ellie snorts and rolls her eyes, you were hot, that’s no secret. “We get it, you bagged the hottest of them all.” her voice exasperated as she nudged Vi.

Her eyes snap back to you, so pretty by the counter and utterly her’s. She adjusts her pants, just the sight of you makes her slick.

 Her eyes follow you as you pour a drink for yourself and pop open the bottle of the beer with a lighter, god how can you be so so hot?

Her smirk falters as she takes notice of a guy behind you, his eyes peering at your arse like you didn’t belong to her. Alright, that sounded big headed, yes.

But, to her defense, everyone knew you were her girl, so why did that prick feel the need to approach you?

Vi’s eyes narrow as she watches the guy reach his hand and touch you, a ugly soaring fire spreads in her chest as she gets up.

She can't put her finger on it but, rage? Maybe even fury. Her fists clench and her arms flex, the anger like gasoline to the fire within her.

You don’t notice the guy, of course you don’t - you’re preparing a drink for your girlfriend and yourself. The bottle is hard to open and you pray that the trick Vi showed you actually works, so you put the lighter in the edge of the cap- what the actual hell.

You whirl around as a hand, and not your girlfriend’s, touches your behind. The guy stands tall, a good foot above you and you have to lift your head to look at him. “What the fuck?” You bark, shoving the guy back. He gives you a cocky smirk and leans forwards. You notice his teeth sitting crooked and yellowish in his mouth and you have to suppress a gag.

 “Sorry, princess. That ass of yours is too good to pass up on.” Your eyes narrow but, before you can even think, a tip of pink hair appears behind the guy and you pray to god and all his angels that Vi won’t break his neck.

Vi is quick to grab the guy by his neck, slotting a foot in the back of knee. The guy doubles over with a grunt. “I don’t appreciate my girl being harassed” her voice low and threatening as she pushes him down by the neck. 

Ellie and Abby are by her side in an instant, both of them holding the guy by his arms like they’ve practiced this before…they haven’t right?

She doesn’t waste a second before her fist connects with the guy’s face, a sickening crunch reaches your ears and all you manage to do is watch in bewilderment and slight disgust.

You appreciate your girlfriend defending you, of course you did but, she had the tendency to go a little overboard. Just as her fist rises again you step forward and slip a hand onto her bicep. Vi halts her movement and her eyes find yours, expression softening instantly.

“Enough, baby.” Your voice gentle and reassuring. Vi reluctantly lowers her arms and slips her hand in yours.

She gives Ellie and Abby a nod and they let go. “Aw, come on. One more couldn’t hurt.” Ellie pouts, what a psycho.

Vi turns to you, her eyes searching your face. “Are you okay, baby?” You nod as a small smile forms on your lips.

You hand her the beer and grab your own drink before the two of you follow Ellie and Abby back to the couch.

One last disgusted look at the guy hunched over on the wooden floor as Vi pulls you along.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

What a Mess 6

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: thick!Bucky Barnes

Summary: Your new job isn’t all that you expect. (maid AU – short!reader)

Note: hate me, baby.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You pack away your kit and drag the vacuum to the elevator. You give one last look to the condo then tap the button and wait. You jitter as you stare at the doors, urging on your escape. From this place, from him. 

He didn’t hurt you, did he? He wasn’t cruel but he also didn’t stop. He didn’t ask. He just... did that. But you’re the one who touched him first. But he said yes. That’s the difference, isn’t it? Or did you give him permission by initiating the whole breach of behaviour. 

“Doll,” his hands clamp down on your shoulders and jar you from your anguished trance. You gasp and look over at the metal fingers curling around you. “What’sa matter?” 

You quiver as the elevator doors open. You grip the vacuum tight and try to walk out of his grasp. That’s a foolish thought. He keeps you as you are. 

“You’re in a hurry?” He wonders. 

You gulp and drop your head, the hose quiver in your hand. You wet your dry lips and shudder. You can’t hear over the thumping pulse behind your ears. 

“Hey,” he spins you and the vacuum hose falls from your grasp. You blink up at him, staring at his face if only to avoid another glimpse of his naked form. He cups your head. “Your heart’s about to explode. Why don’t you sit down? You been working hard.” 

You touch the back of his hands as your eyes glaze over, “please...” 

He searches your face, his expression lining with confusion, “what?” 

Your lip trembles and you drop your arms. You can’t fight him. You can feel that same oppression as before. His body over yours, smothering you, suffocating you. This isn’t just a man, this is a super soldier. 

“Are you scared?” He asks. 

You nod without thinking. He retracts his touch and turns away. “I was... nice.” 

You hug yourself as the elevator shuts and descends. Your way out weighs heavily on the wires as it disappears. You dig your nails into your arms. 

“I’m scared too, doll,” he turns back again. You wince and avert your gaze to the wall. “It’s been a long time... long time since anyone... since I let anyone...” He marches toward you and you back up until you hit the doors. 

You watch him in horror as he gets down on his knees. He grabs your wrists and unfolds your arms, clasping them in his and kissing your knuckles. You whimper as he opens your palms to him and brushes them over his thick beard. 

“I need you, doll. You can’t leave me like this,” he begs. 

You don’t know what he wants. You can’t figure why he’s doing this. Why he’s clinging to you like a scared puppy. You didn’t do anything but your job. No, you touched him first. 

“I only wanted to help,” you whisper. 

He kisses your palms and hums, “you did, baby. You did.” 

“Bucky, I have to go,” you quaver. “Home.” 

He hisses and goes silent. He continues to toy with your hands. He guides them to his hair as he shuffles closer on his knees. He grips your hips and pulls you forward. He nuzzles your pelvis with a growl and you squeak. 

“Bucky!” You squeal. 

He purrs and rolls his face against you, his thumbs pushing into your soft flesh. He continues to nuzzle you firmly, rocking his head as he inhales your scent through your jeans. You babble helplessly and push on his shoulders. 

“I can make you feel good, doll,” he looks up at you with beaming blue eyes. “I wanna. So bad.” 

You wriggle but don’t offer much resistance. You feel his strength and your lack of. The doors are shut, in all ways. 

He snakes his hands around to your bottom and suddenly, he stands, lifting you off your feet. You cry out again and latch onto him in fright. He hooks your knees around him and gives a sultry growl over your hair. He carries you away from the elevator. 

You quake against him as you resign yourself to his whims. He takes you around to the front room and sits you on the sofa. You lean back and brace the cushions as he traces along your waist band. He pinches the front and pushes the button of your fly free. 

Paralysed, you watch him, a hollow shell as he pulls down the tab of your zipper. He exhales deeply as he once more feels along the denim and hooks his fingers beneath. He tugs, jerking you, peeling your pants down to your thighs. 

You plant your heads firmly to keep from slipping down as he rolls your jeans past your knees. You shiver as he exposes you to the airy space. His eyes crawl up your legs and frames your waist as he bends over your lap. 

His hand creep down to your shaking thighs and push them apart as he bows further. He breathes into the front of your cotton panties and nips the fabric. He snarls and presses his nose against you, dipping into your slit.  

You squirm as his trails a fingertip along the crease of your leg and tugs aside the cotton. You quiver as he purrs and slides his tongue along your folds. You arch your back, pushing your head into the cushions as you whine. The coolness of his mouth mingles cloyingly with your warmth. 

He flicks up and down as you squeak and twitch, slapping the cushions as your insides writhe uncontrollably at his tending. His finger grazes along your skin and he prods at your entrance, teasing it as his tongue swirls around your clit. You hiss and hum, trying to hold back the moans trapped in your chest. 

You bite your lips as your head lolls and your eyes roll back. Your fear gives way to something more vulnerable, something undeniable. You latch onto his head and arch your feet as the tension winds in your core. 

He’s right. He hasn’t hurt you. If you’re good, then he won’t. If you’re good, it will feel good. Right? 

[pacifymebby]

hello! Long time reader first time ask.

perhaps a peaky blinder boys x reader whose love language is bitting?

-🧛‍♀️ anon

(If emoji anons are allowed of course❤️)

Hello I absolutely love this because biting is definitely one of my love languages haha

Warnings: lots of fluff in this but it does get NSFW in places, mentions of blood in Arthurs.

Tommy

🌿 Is not at all surprised when you bite him for the first time, he's so sharp an observer of people and their habits that before you were even particularly close he had been able to tell you were a "biter"

🌿 And he couldn't help but feel a little more drawn to you for it... He would find himself watching you, your smile, the way you bite your lip or your thumb when you're concentrating, the way you're so often biting your thumb or finger when he catches you looking at him...

🌿 And he's measuring his worth based on how long it takes for you to finally drop your guard and sink your teeth into his shoulder or neck when you're cuddled against him...

🌿 The man is quietly tortured waiting for it to happen because he knows that it's your love language, he just Knows it, and he needs you to do it to him so that he knows you really love him... The man is desperate...

🌿 He gets a little bit hopeful every time you nuzzle into him... Every time you kiss his shoulder or his hand when he's cupping your cheek...

🌿 In fact he gives you every opportunity to, always guiding your head to the crook of his neck when you're hugging, always letting his fingers and thumbs stray a little close to your mouth... Inviting you to sink your teeth into him...

🌿 But you know what Tommy is like, he'll never out and out ask you, he wants you to do it without thinking, so instinctively...so he knows it's real... If he asks you he'll never quite be sure that you're doing it because you love him,or because the trust is there, he'll always be left wondering whether you're simply obliging his request...

🌿 So he has to be patient, and contrary to common belief Tommy is sometimes capable of patience... Especially when it comes to things like this, slow, careful things. Slowly, delicately chipping away at your composure, your self conscious outer shell that stops you reacting instinctively to his affections... For a long time he can tell you're holding back...

🌿 And then when it finally happens he's surprised, because you drop your guard seemingly out of nowhere, coming up behind him at the foot of the bed one morning when he's trying to fix the cuffs on his unbuttoned shirt. Your arms wrap around his waist and you stand on your tiptoes nuzzling into his neck... You catch yourself by surprise too, thinking you're only going to give him a little goodbye kiss...

🌿 But instead your first shy kiss skims his jaw only to be followed by another, this one pressed to the vein in his neck. And then you smile, a toothy smile into his shoulder and his heartbeat begins to pick up as he realises what's about to happen.

🌿 your teeth hover over his neck, he can feel the warmth of your breath as you think about it, almost getting shy... And then you graze your teeth over his skin, such a hesitant gentle drag... He wonders if perhaps you're going to shy away even now, his breath caught in his throat.

🌿 And then when you sink your teeth into him, your delicate bite sends a wash of relief through his body, warmth radiating through him from the delicate spot on his neck where you hold a little bit of him between your teeth.

🌿 "That's an interesting way of saying good morning angel..." He teases you as he turns around to kiss you. You're blushing and he realises then that you might take his teasing to be a scolding... That you might never bite him like that again. So he quickly adds, "not a complaint..."

🌿 He seriously loves it! The first time you bite him like that his heart soars... It's a silly thing to be quite so obsessed with and he knows it, but he finally feels secure in your affections when you do this, sees this as you finally trusting him enough to reveal yourself to him... He's not wrong either, it takes a little time for you to feel comfortable enough to want to sink your teeth into someone and you certainly don't waste your affection on just anyone... It takes a specific kind of nurture to make you feel comfortable enough to bite like that, and so when you do, and can see Tommy likes it, is happy for you to nibble on his shoulder like that, well your heart soars too. You get this toothy grin on your face and giggle and then immediately go to do it again.

🌿 From then on you bite more and more regularly, mostly just soft little nips when you want more attention than he's giving you... When he's sitting in his armchair with you in his lap, more focussed on the book he's reading than you... When you're out walking and you want to stop and be kissed at the side of the path... When you're first waking up in the morning and you're all sleepy and bursting with affection for him...

🌿 He loves how you nibble on his bottom lip when you're kissing, how you'll nuzzle into his neck peppering kisses over his skin and then graze your teeth along his pulse before drawing a little of him into your mouth... He loves the possessive nature of your bites, likes to feel as though you're laying some kind of claim on him.

🌿 He doesn't bite you back however because he's scared of hurting or marking you like that, he doesn't want to bruise you and he gets such a possessive urge inside him when he's with you that he's sure he would lose control and bite you too hard... He also likes that it's your little quirk, something you alone do to him alone. He has his own way of showing you affection and sees your biting as girlish and sweet. Not something he'd mirror.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie loves your little vampiric habit, he just loves it...

🐻 He sees you as being so innocent and soft so sweet and pure, and your biting is very much something which goes along with that... It's one of those "childish" little things you never grew out of and he thinks it's adorable.

🐻 He notices the way you chew anything you can, your sleeves your pencils, your fingers... He can't help but stare, watching as you pause your writing and sink your teeth into the tip of your pencil chewing in it thoughtfully... he can't help it if his mind wanders, if he starts wondering what it would be like to give you his fingers to nibble on instead...

🐻 He teases you about it too, will tell you "come sink those little teeth into papa instead ziskeit..." The first time he says it you think he's joking, you look up at him from where you're sitting and smirk, expecting him to smirk too, but when he doesn't and instead beckons you over once again you can't resist. You're a little shy about it, sitting in his lap and then hesitating, not actually sure what to do now he's watching you... But then he caresses your cheek gently and offers you his fingers, he can't take his eyes off you as you gently sink your teeth into his finger tips...

🐻 He'll definitely call you things like "my little vampire..." And tease you when you bite his neck, just wanting to make you blush because again, he finds this little habit of yours completely adorable...

🐻 Alfie knows this behaviour is a comfort thing, that it's all about your trust in him, how comfortable and safe you feel with him and so whenever he feels your teeth sink into him he feels so proud... Proud that you're his little ziskeit, proud that you trust him, that you feel safe enough to be yourself with him completely...

🐻 He loves the way you use biting to initiate further affection, how you come up behind him and stand on your tiptoes sinking your teeth into his back or his shoulder, how when he pulls you in for a hug more often than not you'll gently nip his bicep or shoulder and then look up at him with your big doe eyes silently asking for more...

🐻 He loves when you bite his hands, in particular that place where his thumb meets his palm and curves to his wrist... He likes it when you bite his wrist too actually. Alfie just loves it when you nip at him, he finds your playfully affectionate nature completely adorable.

🐻 You rarely bite him with any level of force but sometimes, if you sink your teeth in a little too deep he'll gently scold you, "now what did I do to deserve that little one?" He'll put on a show of frowning, being wounded and when you say you're sorry, that you didn't mean it he'll soften and welcome you into his embrace, "I know little one, course you didn't ziskeit... But you just be careful with your old man yeah, wouldn't want anyone thinking I was being savaged by my little girl would we..." Of course he's only teasing and when you pout up at him he just smiles and offers you one of his fingers to nibble on, "Nah what am I saying ziskeit, you can savage me whenever you like..."

🐻 Now obviously Alfie likes to keep you away from his real enemies but when it comes to men like Tommy Shelby who are always poking around, turning up without an appointment and barging into his office demanding a word... Well, let's just say you're a cheeky little madam sometimes and you won't hesitate to make some catty little remark upon being disturbed by him... And Alfie loves that about you, he particularly enjoys being able to say "careful Tommy, this one bites..."

🐻 The day you offer him your fingers to bite warms his heart. First of all he thinks you look so cute... Looking up at him with your wide warm eyes, stroking your fingers through his beard before holding them to his lips. Second of all, he knows it's a sign of deep trust, that you must really love and think the world of him to be pressing your hand to his mouth for him to bite. So he doesn't reject you, he smiles softly, tries so not show just how touched his is by teasing you all "Oh now, ain't that sweet..." Before very gently biting you, light enough not to leave a mark, kissing the place he sunk his teeth moments later...

🐻 He only bites you when you offer him your hand, and even then he's always very gentle as he doesn't want to hurt you... He wouldn't want to leave marks on you and he doesn't need to, "everyone already knows you belong to me..."

Arthur

🍂 Now Arthur definitely bites during sex, everyone knows that Arthur likes to have rough sex... there's fingernails and teeth involved for sure and no women's ever left Arthur's bed without the marks to prove it...

🍂 That doesn't however mean that he's ever considered being bitten himself... he'd always view biting as a dominant trait, a way of marking what is yours, a possessive trait, a way of staking your claim... so he doesn't realise how much he's going to like being bitten by you until you actually do it...

🍂 And the first time you do it he is so surprised... First of all, it was only an affection, gentle little bite, your teeth barely grazed him, and the mark faded so quickly, so his dramatic cry of "ow... What was that for?" Seemed a little over the top. And of course it was over the top, it didn't hurt him a bit, he was just stunned that his lass, who was hugging him and nuzzling into his neck moments ago, would sink her teeth into him so out of the blue... And not in the heat of the moment either...

🍂 But for all his melodrama Arthur really did love it... He just has to pretend he didn't because to be seen letting you nibble on his shoulder like that could make him look soft... So he kicks up a fuss whenever you do it or else tells you off for teasing him and threatens to teach you a lesson later...

🍂 But he does really, really like it. There is absolutely no denying how much he likes it... Every time you bite him affectionately he gets a tell tale blush on his cheeks which is adorable, but which you have to pretend not to notice because if you do that will be the end of that, he'll never let you nibble on his shoulder again...

🍂 Over time he grows more and more confident about your vampiric way of showing affection, he likes that his girl has got some bite about her, a little menacing touch despite your general sweetness. He thinks that actually it makes you pretty bad, revealing of a dark side you might have... and that only makes you all the more attractive to him...

🍂 Now, when you're fucking Arthur loves it when you bite down on him hard and sink your teeth right in... You've been known to draw blood on more than one occasion when things have gotten a little rougher, a little more intense than either of you could have predicted...

🍂 Arthur quite likes to mix pain and pleasure and he gets addicted to the sting of your sharp little nips, he will often command you not to hold back, to bite harder... if you catch him in just the right place at just the right moment you can tip him over the edge and cause him to cum from a bite to the shoulder or neck...

🍂 At first he's a little shy about the marks you leave on him, he's worried it might make him look weak, but then one day his brother makes a comment about how he ought to put a muzzle on his woman if she's "that wild" and actually Arthur thinks he quite likes that... the idea that everyone will know his girl is wild, that she can't be tamed...

🍂 So from then on he almost shows off the bite marks, he's proud of them and proud of his wild woman...

🍂 He has a scar on his hand left by you... Once when you were fucking, Arthur was really railing you, it was rough and intense and you were being very loud... So Arthur had used his hand to hush you, forcing the side of his hand into your open mouth and giving you very clear instructions, "fuckin bite down for me girl," hissed through his teeth as he thrust into you at a violent, rapid pace... And you couldn't disobey him...

🍂 So you bit down hard, squeezing your eyes shut as he fucked you against the wall until your whole body was limp... And when you were finished and you finally unclamped your teeth from his hand you were shocked, and a little horrified, to find that you'd really done a number on his hand... You actually feel guilty, rushing to try and clean the wound, apologising to Arthur over and over until he takes your face in one hand gently squeezing your cheeks as he forces you to look up at him. "Now you listen to me love, don't you ever fookin apologise for that yeah, you did as you were told an that makes you a very fookin good girl don't it..."

🍂 The wound healed quickly, it wasn't as bad as it looked, and it left a very pretty little crescent moon scar the shape of your bite which Arthur is obsessed with, it's like wearing a little piece of you at all times, and it reminds him of that moment... Fucking you against the wall, listening to your muffled cries of pleasure, the sting of your bite... He replays the scene in his head whilst turning his palm up to admire the scar... He's so proud of it, and so pleased to have such a "fookin feral" woman.

John

🌼 Bites you first...

🌼 John is such a playful romantic, he's boisterous and a little clumsy with you sometimes and he's oh so childish and unafraid to show his affection however the notion takes him in the moment...

🌼 So of course biting is one of his love languages too... He's always telling you how cute you are, how he "could just eat you up..." And he does...

🌼 He likes biting the tip of your nose, pretending to bite your cheeks, he likes to nuzzle into your neck tickling you and biting gently until you're giggling and trying to fend him off... He'll go for your fingers and toes too, taking your hand and lifting it to his mouth, holding your ankles delicately, tickling your feet and then going to nibble your toes - the number of times you've almost kicked him in the face because of this...

🌼 So of course he loves the fact that you speak his language... He loves the fact that when you're giggling and play wrestling and he has you pinned to the floor you'll turn your head and try to bite his wrist...

🌼 You're able to have these soft moments of silent affection, on days when he's stressed, or troubled and you go to him quietly, wrap your arms around him from behind and nuzzle into his back. You gently bite his shoulder, just to let him know you're there, and when he turns around and welcomes you into his embrace he'll nuzzle into you, close his eyes and let you kiss his cheek before grazing your teeth along his jaw... And when he lifts his head and opens his eyes he'll tilt your chin up towards him and let his teeth graze the tip of your nose before kissing your cheek and squeezing you tight against him.

🌼 It's like this extra layer of closeness, this extra way with which you can know eachother and trust eachother intimately. It makes you feel instinctively close to one another like little lion cubs...

🌼 John also likes it when you bit him during sex... He likes to bite you too and has definitely left a fair few bruises and teeth marks on your neck, shoulders and breasts before... But you do the same to him, biting his shoulders and his chest, leaving bite marks on his neck too...

🌼 And John loves to show off these marks... Loves to brag about them and the fucks in which he earned them... If he's got a particularly good looking one he'll be pulling the shoulder of his shirt down to show off the mark to his friends... He gets scolded by Ada "Honestly John put it away! The lengths you'll go to to prove you're getting a lay... It's embarrassing really..." But he'll just laugh her off and immediately launch back into the tale of his "war wound"

🌼 He'll tease you about it too, he'll come home from the betting shop and tell you something like, "the lads were talking about you today... They reckon I should put you on a leash..." And then he'll grin and before you can get in a huff with him he'll have wrapped you up in his arms, playfully nipping at your face and your ear, already trying to talk you into bed...

🌼 Has definitely bitten you on the bottom on more than one occasion, he can't help it...

Bonnie

🍀Bonnie is definitely also a biter... not quite in the way that John is a biter... he too is very playfully affectionate sometimes but he's also much more careful and much more soft...

🍀 He bites you too, very tenderly, often a kiss on the lips will finish with a little nip to the end of your nose before he pushes your hair from your face and sends you on your way

🍀 When you're sad or he can tell that something's wrong he'll come sit down beside you in front of the campfire, the two of you just gazing at the flames quietly, and without a word he'll pick up your hand and raise your fingers to his lips, and he'll bite his teeth down gently on your finger tip, just once, catching your eye communicating silently with you that he's there, that he's all yours and you can tell him anything you need to...

🍀The difference here is that Bonnie learnt this behaviour from you... He's mirroring you, as an act of love and trust... He wants to be able to communicate his love for you in ways you'll understand and so when he realises that the little grazes of your teeth, the little nips to his shoulder or his hand, are all little gestures of affection, your way of asking for his attention or letting him know without words that you love him very dearly, he wants to reciprocate.

🍀 The first time you bit him he wasn't all that surprised...Even before you were together he could tell you were a biter, he'd seen the way you sucked on your gold cross necklace, saw the way you nibbled on your finger tips with you were nervous or concentrating on something. He also noticed that when you were sleepy you would chew on your sleeve or suck your thumb... Always in these moments when you lost your awareness of the outside world... When your inhibitions were lowered slightly...

🍀So he'd always secretly hoped you'd feel comfortable enough with him to let your guard down and show your affection with a little bite...

🍀And the day you finally did (not that it really took all that long because you felt comfortable around bonnie from day one) he's was pleased he actually blushed. The day you sunk your teeth into his shoulder whilst you were hugging him, it lit him up. You left a little smirk on his lips and a rosy hue to his usually pale cheeks...

🍀 He turned his head half way to look over at you, a little smirk on his lips as he said "Well hello to you too little dove... Lose your words this morning or something?" Only teasing you of course before he took your face in both his hands and nipped the tip of your nose gently with his teeth. That painted a big grin on your face, left you feeling so girlish and giggly.

🍀Bonnie absolutely loves it when you bite him, the two of you have lots of wordless forms of communication, often able to talk with only your eyes... But your little nips are his favourite.

🍀 You often bite when you want his attention and so often that's the sensation he wakes up to... You half asleep, resting on him, your teeth grazing his chest, shoulder of neck. He likes it when you scrape your teeth along his jaw...

🍀 Bonnie has only ever marked you once and it was an accident... As much as he wants everyone to know that you're his little lass he wouldn't want to damage your reputation by leaving you littered with bitemarks or lovebites... You'd only get called horrible names by the other girls in the camp and he'd also have to deal with the wrath of your father...

🍀 It isn't just that though, Bonnie is a very tender lad and he sees you as being his precious angel, he would never want to hurt you and so he saves all his aggression for the ring, all his gentleness all his softness reserved for you...

🍀 The time he did leave a mark on you he felt so guilty, he was so apologetic, keen to make sure you weren't hurt, kissing the little teeth marks he'd left on your shoulder.

Isaiah

🐁Isaiah definitely thinks that your affectionate biting is a cute little quirk, something that makes him smirk or chuckle to himself... He thinks it's a little funny and he's definitely never had a girl bite him like that before...

🐁 he also thinks that if it wasn't you, he wouldn't be letting anyone bite him so "cutesy" so softly... No, this is definitely something only you could ever get away with... Other girls would be told to behave...

🐁He can tell when you're going to do it, you get this impish little smile on your lips which he can't resist... Even if he thinks it's a strange habit he couldn't ever deny you, not when you look so cheeky and so sweet... So instead he'll hold his hand up to stop you, say something like "now hang on a minute love what are you about to do?" "Them teeth again eh? You're lucky I'm so soft on you ain't ye sweetheart..."

🐁 He'll actually make you say please!! Which of course you do, very sweetly, so sweetly that he couldn't possibly say no to you... And when you have given him a little nip, your teeth sinking gently into his shoulder, he makes sure that you never forget to say thank you. If you do he'll stop you, catch your wrist so you can't walk away and then he'll raise his brow, challenging you, "I'm waiting love..."

🐁He doesn't bite you back, not softly anyway, and not as a way of showing affection... Sexually however Isaiah definitely bites... He likes his sex kinda rough and he definitely enjoys leaving little marks on you to show the world that you're taken...

🐁He's never too rough with you, he wouldn't ever bite so deep that he broke the skin, but he's certainly left little teeth marks on your neck and definitely enjoys scattering your collar bones with bites too. Sometimes he will push your shirt to one side in the middle of the day, just so he can admire the marks he left the night before and trace his fingers over the dents in your skin.

🐁He won't let you mark his neck, or anywhere that might be seen by the other peaky lads because he's still a little uncertain whether letting his woman bite him makes him "less of a man" it's definitely something he is sensitive about... But I think he'll grow out of that and grow into a John type figure who brags about it...

🐁 He likes it when you bite him during sex, if you sink your teeth into his shoulder when he's fucking you he takes that as a sign he's doing a very good job and it motivates him to go all the harder...

Michael

☘️ He's very shocked the first time you bite him... He chastises you because "that wasn't very ladylike of you y/n..."

☘️ He definitely has pretty firm ideas about what makes a man, and he definitely doesn't think allowing your woman to bite you (even if it is affectionately) is very manly at all...

☘️ He definitely has a complex, trying to be like Tommy, wanting his cousins approval desperately, and in his head he asks himself "what would Tommy say if he saw this?" Unfortunately Michael isn't actually that good at predicting what his cousin Tommy would say because if he was he'd Know that Tommy a) wouldn't give a shit if you were biting Michael and b) would quite like it if you were biting him...

☘️ And the thing is... The thing is that Michael quite likes it. He doesn't know why and he certainly thinks he's not supposed to like it... But undeniably he does. And you can tell that he does too... You can tell because whenever Michael likes something he tends to stiffen a little, he tends to frown and swallow his enjoyment down. So when he straightens his back and clears his throat, that's when you know he really likes something...

☘️ So despite the way he always scolds you, despite the way he threatens to punish you for persistently ignoring his rules and biting him, you carry on... Because you know that deep down he likes it and that really all he needs to do, something you wish he could do, is accept that it's okay to enjoy affection.

☘️ Because really that's all it is, Michael has a problem with showing and accepting affection... Sure he was raised for a time by Polly, but he doesn't remember that and the middle class cottage dwelling family who did raise him, were restrictive to say the least. Affection was earned and it certainly wasn't sentimental... So when you do something as sweet and seemingly motiveless as playfully biting him, he doesn't know how to handle it and he's embarrassed to show his enjoyment...

☘️ Anyway, he likes it... He really likes it and whenever you graze his skin with your teeth, he gets this tingling feeling all through his body, a kind of asmr response? He sometimes comes out in goosebumps and then he really doesn't know how to try and hide his love for your little habit. That's when he'll really tell you off and you'll just giggle along apologising through your laughter before kissing him on the cheek and teasing that you're going to do it again.

☘️ During sex he really can't hide how much he likes it and honestly he's given up trying, if you bite his neck or nibble his ear, or if your graze your teeth over his chest, he moans on command and it is music to your ears... He also fucking loves it when you nip at his thighs when you're on your knees giving him head. The first time you did that to him it blew his mind.

Bonus material here (and I'm sorry I didn't have it in me to write HCs for some of our other men but...)

🪽 Luca is absolutely the type to tease you and ask something like "What's the matter with you sweetheart, they don't feed you at home?"

🪽 Would probably get your bite marks tattooed on him...

🦔 When you bite him Aberama will gnash his teeth at you to tease you, pretending that he's gonna bite your fingers off.

🦔 he likes it when you nibble on his ear...

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[pneumosia]

❝BENEATH THE VEIL OF SEPARATION.❞ ── ☼ rin itoshi﹕ ブルーロック › blue lock

syn ✧ having rin reappear in your life on a random friday was not what you were expecting. what starts as reluctance turns into a moment of vulnerability as old feelings resurface.

imaginarium theatre masterlist. ┆ general masterlist.

info log ﹕ fic tags rin itoshi / gn! reader. imaginarium theatre request no. 7 made by @reocidal. rin + retrouvaille + fluff. kiss scene. lots of banter. reader has a younger cousin. ➜ word count : 2.3k

love, ieva ❤︎ officially the first time writing for rin, i hope i didn’t make him too ooc 😓 also new formatting !! tiny bit of hurt/comfort if u squint bc i almost got carried away

Rin Itoshi wasn’t used to stopping. His life was a blur of precision: drills, matches, accolades. Yet here he was, holding a cup of lukewarm black coffee—and seated in one of the back tables. He sat next to a window, his hood drawn low. The cafe he was in was bustling with noise that began to grate on his nerves.. He scowled before pushing a pair of ear plugs into his ears, hoping to muffle the sounds of chatter between friends, parents with overly obnoxious children, and the relentless ding of the bell that rang whenever someone entered. He stared at his phone, checking match statistics, formations, strategies.

About a few blocks away, was a soccer field, usually an eyesore in his peripheral vision. It was the kind of place amateurs and children gravitate to—a world far out of his reach. Something so mediocre could never catch his attention, until he spotted a familiar figure walk past—his glance following them through the window. He blinked again, as if the act might scatter his vision and reveal a different image that was once buried in fog. But no, there you were—with an eager child tugging your hand while pointing towards the field.

Without thinking, he was on his feet, the coffee forgotten as he pushed open the cafe door. He could see the back of your head clearly, and the child beside you was practically begging to be taken to the field. How could you ever refuse? He watched as you smiled, radiant and full of life you were—just as you were back then. He could already hear your coos, a sign that you were giving into the child’s pleas.

“I want to go there! Can we? Please? Just for a little while?”

You glanced at the apple of your cousin’s eye—a small field, granted it was usually occupied by children, but the white markings reminded you of someone else. Someone you’d rather not name. Reluctantly, you clutched the little one’s hand tighter, looking both ways before crossing the street—unaware that Rin was dragging his feet across the road behind you.

When you approached the patches of uneven grass, marked with faded white lines—the little boy wasted no time before darting off towards the center, the atmosphere welcoming the young life—a playground meant just for him. Behind you, the faint sound of footsteps—deliberate yet hesitant, alerted your senses. You turn around just in time to catch a glimpse of Rin retreating, his hood low and his body angled as if he were preparing to bolt out of there. You blinked, caught off guard by the sight of someone so deeply tied to the past that you thought you’d never relive.

Your relationship had been at a standstill for so long, so the moment he vanished from your life—you never imagined him returning, much less in these circumstances.

A part of you had been craving this interaction, while the other wished to bury him with the past altogether. A time capsule never to be reopened.

“Rin?” the name left your lips before you could stop it, and his retreat faltered. His lips formed a small frown, and he let out a sigh in response.

He knew he should’ve left when he had the chance.

“I wasn’t..” he trailed off, knowing coming up with an excuse now would be futile.

Instead, his eyes darted towards the child running circles around the field—two children behind him as if they were playing a game of tag. “Is that your kid?” he asked bluntly, anything to avoid the spotlight being on his failed retreat.

You raised an eyebrow at his question. “What? No—of course not!” you quickly retorted. Regardless of his motive, he should’ve realized how bizarre his blunt question sounded.

“Then?” he questioned further.

“That’s my cousin, I'm too young to have kids!” you retorted, crossing your arms in a manner that told him that his question must’ve been a stupid one.

“The second he saw this field, he immediately wanted to come and play.” you continued, hesitantly.

His hands stuffed themselves in his pockets, his gaze flickering between you and the child you claimed as your cousin. “I didn’t mean to— I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“And yet, you are.” you said, an amused smile tugging at your lips. “Following me?”

He spluttered before the heat trailed to the tips of his ears. “Not… Not a chance, you’re delusional.”

You only continued to stare him down, as if waiting for him to admit to it. “You sure? I find it pretty odd that this is purely a coincidence.”

“But it’s not impossible.” he commented before rolling his eyes.

“Well,” you said, your tone light but your eyes began searching his face. “Since you’re here, you might as well greet me properly. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Rin hesitated. It had been a while—more than a while—it had been an eternity. Yet, here you were, standing in front of him as if no time had passed at all. As if you were the same people, in a bubble of bright smiles and laughter that could cause tears from euphoria.

“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice quieter than you remembered. “It has.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. He followed you all the way here, for what? He couldn’t let this be their last interaction, not when he had so many words bottled up and stuck in his throat.

Before he could manage to speak up, the child appeared in front of him once more—glimmering eyes full of hope and a newfound joy for the sport. “Hey! Do you guys wanna come play with us?”

You pretended to think about the offer, a hand under your chin and an amused smirk adorning your features. You couldn’t say no to him. The little guy had you wrapped around his finger, but you didn’t mind—not if it meant that the smile on his fact would remain in place for as long as possible.

Rin, on the other hand, was absolutely dreading this interaction. On one hand, he knew he didn’t want to participate in this child’s antics, but he knew he couldn’t be rude about it. Instead of voicing his feelings, he opted to shake his head. The equivalent of a simple “no thanks.”

You quietly nudged his arm, trying to get the message across that the little one wouldn’t be able to take no for an answer. He grumbled in response, In a state of reluctance, he finally agreed before being dragged away by the tiny hand—with a promise that he’d definitely enjoy himself.

Of course, the little boy had absolutely no idea how to maneuver a soccer ball—looking up at Rin, he silently pleaded for him to teach him how to play correctly. The most he could manage was simply kicking the ball around and hoping it makes it into the opposite goal. It reminded Rin of his naivety when he was the little boy’s age. Rounded teal eyes filled with tears whenever he wasn’t able to move the ball around the way he wanted, and he had to rely on Sae for assistance.

The thought makes him shake his head in annoyance. At the moment, his brother was utterly irrelevant to the conversation. Right now, all he could do was scoff and put the heel of his foot on the ball—eyeing the child to make sure he was watching. “Just follow my steps, alright?”

To say your cousin was excited would be an understatement, he eagerly kept his eyes glued to the striker—furrowed brows that showcased his concentration.

“It’s about control, not strength. Where do you want to kick the ball?” he asked, as the child pointed forward—so Rin kicked the ball in that direction. “Now you try.”

The child mimicked his movements as best he could, earning a hum of approval. His expression remained unreadable, but the slight lift of his chin gave him away—he was slightly pleased. For the next hour or so, the two focused on simple ball passing and aiming, all the way until the little guy scored his first goal. The majority of the children were beginning to get pulled away from the field by their parents, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Rin’s way of teaching. Though his personality wouldn’t make for a good teacher, he was considerate of the child’s age and connection to you. And that, for you, was enough.

“I told you we’d have fun!”

“…Sure.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

The dumbfounded expression on Rin’s face was enough to earn a chuckle out of you, before you stepped forward to grab your cousin’s hand—a clear sign it was time to go home. Luckily, he didn’t make a fuss about it, tired out from the drills he and Rin had to do.

Later on, when it was just the two of them—you were unsure of what to say. The sky dimmed and night was fast approaching, but you didn’t have the urge to go home yet, at least—not without talking to him first. “You tolerated that more than I expected you to.”

“What? It was either I helped him or he’d start crying, and frankly the latter sounds worse.”

“Uh huh, you’re not going home?” you inquired, fiddling with your fingers as you waited for an answer. You honestly believed he was going to simply walk away, maybe even retort with a sassy remark to spite you.

“I could ask you the same, it seems like we still have something to talk about.”

Or so you thought.

A few beats of silence passed before you let out a sigh. “Can’t you just admit that you missed me so we can skip the awkward reconciliation stage?”

Confrontation was clearly not one of your strong suits, judging by how his eyebrows furrowed and how he crossed his arms—staring at you with pure judgment in his eyes.

“Get real.”

“You get real, c’mon. I’m waiting.”

He groans, stepping closer before eyeing you down. “What makes you think I missed you?”

“The fact that you followed me to the field maybe? You could’ve ignored me, and gone in the opposite direction.”

You had him right where you wanted him.

He didn’t have an answer, did he?

(Maybe you were delusional.)

Rin’s silence stretched, his teal eyes narrowing as he searched for a retort—something sharp to cut through your confidence. But for once, he didn’t have one. His arms dropped to his sides, and for a brief moment, his face softened, though he quickly masked it with an annoyed scoff. He wouldn’t admit that he followed you on a whim (that he missed you, more than you’ll ever know.)

That he regrets leaving things where they were without telling you the truth.

“You’re imagining things,” he muttered, stepping back slightly. “I didn’t follow you—I just didn’t have anything better to do.”

(Excuses, but what else was he supposed to do?)

“Right,” you said, leaning closer with a teasing grin, masking the slight ache in your chest at the thought that it was just coincidence. “Because spending an hour with my cousin and me was totally your idea of a thrilling Friday night.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t step away this time. “You’re annoying.”

“And yet here you are,” you quipped, your voice gentler now. “Why won’t you just admit it, Rin? You missed me. It’s okay, I won’t hold it against you.”

(Unless i’ve been making a full of myself this entire time, chasing after someone who wants nothing to do with me.)

His gaze snapped back to yours, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He was cracking, slowly yet surely, in a manner you wouldn’t have expected. You couldn’t read him, or even tell what he was feeling.

(Rin never opens up easily, he learned how to seal the cracks as quickly as they’re made—as daunting as such a skill is—it infuriated you to no end. Even before, he wouldn’t admit that he liked you. For someone so proud, he was faltering in one way or another.)

“And you’re deflecting,” you countered softly. Your teasing tone was gone now, replaced by a quiet sincerity. “You could’ve ignored me. You could’ve left after the game. But you didn’t. You stayed.”

Rin looked away, his jaw tightening as he shoved his hands into his pockets. The breeze ruffled his dark hair as the last remnants of sunlight faded into the horizon. “…Maybe I didn’t want to.”

(There it was, the last piece.)

It was barely above a whisper, but you heard it. Your chest tightened, a warmth spreading through you. “What was that?” you asked, though your heart was already racing.

“Don’t push it,” he muttered, but his voice lacked the usual bite. Instead, he shifted closer, his shoulders tense, as though he was debating something. His eyes met yours again, piercing but hesitant.

You took a small step forward, tilting your head. “You’re so bad at this, you know? I should just—”

Before you could finish, Rin leaned down and captured your lips in a quick, almost clumsy kiss. It was brief but enough to silence your words and steal your breath. When he pulled back, his face was flushed, and his expression was a mixture of defiance and embarrassment.

“There. Happy?” he asked, his voice low, his confidence cracking just slightly at the edges. It was just what you’ve been waiting for. It felt almost surreal, the tips of his ears were practically burning.

You blinked, your lips still tingling from the unexpected kiss. A wide grin spread across your face. “No, I'm imagining things, delusional even.”

Bouncing his own words back, how comical. But he could only roll his eyes. He knows you’ve won.

(You held back a sigh of relief, he didn’t forget.)

“Don’t push your luck,” he mumbled, turning away, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

You laughed softly, grabbing his wrist before he could walk off completely. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop teasing—for now.”

The night air felt lighter as the two of you stood there, the tension melting into something softer. Neither of you had to say it, but in that moment, it was clear: whatever distance had been between you before was finally gone.

taglist 🔔 : @papiliotao @starcharmed @snobwhimsicality @bladism @tragedy-of-commons @wystiix @arquistes @thestarswhisper @somatchajade @gl4di0lus @milk-violet @aphrodict @mikashisus

[aemondapologistfrfr]

I Just Need You

jace x innocent!f!reader

Summary: You seek comfort from Jacaerys during a storm and he does everything he can to help settle you. 

Warnings: 18+ mention of a glass of wine, swearing, masturbation(m), fingering, nipple play, oral(f), face sitting, p in v, loss of virginity, Jacaerys the Generous 

Authors Note: first time ever writing for jace - i’ll allow a public crucifixion if i butchered this 🤗 anon request! also nothing specific about reader but she does live with them on dragonstone

Word Count: 3.5k 

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It had been storming all day and you had hoped that it would let up before you had to retire to your chambers for the evening. But of course, you had no such luck. Your handmaidens had tried a steaming bath and tea to calm your nerves but to no avail your heart still pounded rapidly with every crash of thunder. 

You tried and tried to convince yourself it was just the dragons below but with every strike of lightning you would jump and pull the covers closer. The breeze from the window has been blowing out your fire and the cold has begun to creep in. Slowly your nerves begin to rise again and the shadows cast by the bolts in the sky send shivers down your spine. 

After an hour of tossing and turning fitfully on your bed, you push the covers off and rise. The stone floors chill your feet and only make your adrenaline spike. Grabbing the candle almost burnt out from your side table, you step into your slippers and walk over to your chamber doors. You pull open the heavy door and peek out and sigh in relief at the empty hall. 

Lightning flashes illuminating the stone walls and send shadows dancing far above your head. You hold tighter to your candle and start in the familiar direction as fast as your feet allow. 

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Jace loves the sound of the rain beating against the stone. Sleep has escaped him, not that he cared because it allowed him to have more time to relax and let his mind wander to what has truly been keeping him up. The dress, a generous term, that you wore to dinner was nothing more than a napkin. You had coo’d and preened about how your handmaidens had worked dutifully to make your vision come to life and he wondered if that vision was to be the temptress of this desolate island. 

When you reached across the table he was sure your breasts were going to spill out and he cleared his throat, standing to reach the wine for you. When you looked up at him with your sweet smile he felt his trousers begin to tighten as he filled your cup. Gods and the way you squeezed his arm and let your hand linger there sent his head spiraling. Regardless that the touch was innocent or not it still left him wishing your hands were elsewhere. This line of thinking is the exact reason he’s spread out on his bed with his cock in his fist and his eyes screwed shut. 

His grip is light and teasing as he envisions you looking at him with a tilted head and a furrowed brow, asking if you’re doing it right. His stomach tightens when he swipes against his tip imagining it’s your lips placing a soft kiss on it. “Fuck, just like that.” the breathy words leave his mouth as he jerks his hips up into his hand. His grip tightens when he pictures you wrapping your warm mouth around his cock. “You’re doing-“ there’s a quick succession of knocks at his door. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, grabbing his sheets as the door starts to open. “Give me a mo-

“I’m sorry.” you shut the door behind you and pad over to his bed. Jace groans, shoving a pillow over his cock as you set the candle on his table. 

“What’s wrong?” he tries to control his breathing. He looks over the length of you and wishes he didn’t. Your nipples are poking through your flimsy nightdress and the hem barely reaches past your small clothes. “Are you okay?” his eyes make it back up to your face and he looks at the pout gracing your lips. 

“The fire went out in my room.” you chew your lip. 

“Why didn’t you call your handmaidens?” he doesn’t mean for his voice to sound so clipped but the feel of his cock pressing against his pillow is less than desirable right now. 

“I’m cold.” you whine wrapping your arms around you. He swallows knowing you’re not doing it intentionally but you're pushing your breasts out further and he has to look away. 

“Have your furs escaped you as well?” he looks out his window at the storm still waging on.

“I’m scared of the storm.” your voice barely a whisper. “Jace please,” you push your bottom lip out and he slowly turns back towards you. “Please.” he sighs and pats the empty space next to him. 

“Come on then.” he gasps as you pull the sheets back. “Hold on.” he fists the sheets still covering himself, groaning at the pillow sliding against his cock.

“You always let me under the covers.” you whine pulling on the sheet again. 

“Yeah but- I-“ he mentally berates himself at this situation. He sighs, meeting your pleading eyes once more. “I’m not wearing anything. Just go sit on the couch and I’ll find some pants.” he nods at you. 

“If you prefer to sleep in the nude I can too.” you offer him a soft smile and start to pull up your nightdress. 

“No, no. Wait. That’s not-“ the thin piece of fabric is pooled on the ground before he can finish his sentence. What the fuck is going on? Jace's head spins as he looks at your bare chest and watches you grab for your small clothes next. “Fuck, stop.” he sits up and stops your hand and he groans as the sheet and pillow fall away from him. 

“Did I do something wrong?” your face deflates and he wants to jump out his window at the expression. 

“You’ve done nothing wrong.” he cups your face. “I promise.” he nods. “I’m going to go get a pair of pants and you’re going to put your nightdress back on and we’ll lay down. Okay?” he searches your eyes. 

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” you blink up at him. 

“Why would I be uncomfortable?” he furrows his brows. 

“Cause this looks like it hurts.” you start to reach for his cock. “It’s red and looks like it’s crying.” he grabs your wrist before you can grab him and looks at you with wide eyes. He’s rendered speechless as he blinks at you trying to form a sentence. “Does it?” you tilt your head and start to move your other hand towards it which he stops once more. 

“It does. A bit but it’s not your fault.” not intentionally anyways. “I don’t..” he shakes his head, still trying to find the words. “Fuck it.” he mutters under his breath. “Get in bed and I’ll go get my extra furs.” he watches a smile start to form on your face as he releases your wrists. 

“Thank you.” you pull him into a hug and he freezes. “You’re so warm.” you hold him closer, burying your head in his neck. “Maybe I don’t need furs. I just need you.” your soft words go straight to his cock. 

“I’ll be right back.” he starts to pull away. 

“No.” you hold him closer and start to crawl onto the bed. 

“You’ve abandoned your furs and nightdress for a sheet?” he holds your hips to stop you from sitting in his lap. 

“I’ve abandoned them for you, Jacaerys.” your hand’s make their way to his curls. “For your warmth and embrace. You always hold me when it storms. Why is tonight so different?” you try to scoot closer and he groans feeling your chest press against his.

“Cause my cock is out.” you let out a whine at his words. 

“If it hurts so bad let me make it feel better.” before he processes your words you have your fingers wrapped around his shaft. 

“Gods.” he groans, wrapping his hand around yours. 

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, pulling back. “Did I hurt you?” you search his face. 

“Quite the opposite.” he lets out a breathy chuckle. 

“So you want me to touch your cock?” you tilt your head. 

“I mean yes but- 

“Tell me how.” you wrap your fingers back around him. “I want to help you.” you pump your hand once. Jace's head is soaring trying to figure out if this is real or the best dream he’s ever had. When your thumb brushes against his leaking slit he decides he doesn’t care and stops your hand once more. 

“Let’s lay back.” you nod and follow him up to his pillows before curling against his side. You bring your hand back to his cock and his fingers wrap around yours. “Like you were doing before. You can go quick or slow.” his stomach tightens as you both pump him. “You can tighten your grip.” he gets out between his teeth as you follow his instruction. 

“What about the part that’s crying?” you look up at him as you swipe your thumb against it. 

“Fuck,” his hips jerk up. “You can do that.” he nods. 

“Okay. Let go. I want to try on my own.” he removes his hand and you both look down and watch your hand stroke against him. You try different speeds making sure to swipe at his crying tip every once in a while and your head snaps up when a soft sound comes from his lips. “Am I doing it right?” you chew your lip. 

“Yes. Gods, yes,” he pants and you watch his stomach flex as you stroke him faster. “Fuck just like that.” he tilts your head up to him. “Can I kiss you?” his hips jerk helplessly up into your hand. The second you nod he’s pressing his lips to yours. 

You lean into him more and he brings a hand up to one of your breasts, pulling a gasp from you. “Is this okay?” he mumbles onto your lips and your quick nod has him kneading against you with more fervor. You bring your other hand down to swipe against his tip while you stroke him quickly. Jace pulls back from your mouth gasping as you continue your movements. 

“Oh,” you look down as his cock starts to cry more. “Is this-

“Yes this is good. So good, fuck,” he curses lowly as his pleasure washes through him. “Okay, you can slow down.” his voice breaks as you continue with your pace. “Please, I-“ he whimpers and feels his legs start to shake as his pleasure still lands against his stomach. He grabs onto your hands and pries them off of him. 

“I’ll get a cloth to clean you up.” you hum and go to sit up. 

“No,” Jace shakes his head. “We can just use..” he looks around not wanting you to leave his bed anytime soon. 

“Mm, we can use my small clothes.” you nod quickly and scoot back to pull them down. He catches a glimpse of your slit and he feels his cock twitch. “Oh,” you look at your small clothes. “It looks like my cunny is crying too?” you look up at him and take in his parted lips. 

“Why would your cunny be crying?” Jace chuckles watching your cheeks flush. 

“I don’t know. It felt warm when I was touching you. Now it feels kinda sticky.” he looks down and sees you rubbing your thighs together. 

“I can,” he clears his throat. “I can help if you want.” you nod at him with a small smile. “Come lay down.” he helps you lean back against his pillows. 

Jace presses his lips to yours softly before licking along your bottom lip. He slowly presses his tongue into your mouth and you gasp holding him closer. As he’s occupying your mouth his fingers roll one of your nipples earning him a soft whimper from you. He brushes his thumb against the hardened peak while you writhe beneath him. His hand travels down your body and he lets one of his fingers ghost up the side of your slit. 

“Jacaerys,” you whine, spreading your legs wider for him. He dips his finger into your wetness and slides it up to your slick bud and you jolt looking up at him. “Mm yes,” you gasp, holding on to his arm as he slowly circles around your bud. He leans down and wraps his lips around one of your nipples and you whine. 

He chuckles as he takes the hardened bud between his teeth and feels more pleasure seep out of you. One of his fingers trails down and slides along your entrance and he groans as he feels it fluttering around nothing. His thumb rubs quickly at your bud as he teases your core all the while his tongue is lashing against your chest. 

“Jace, I don’t know, I-” you whimper arching off the bed when he speeds his fingers up. “Something- I, Jacaerys.” you cry as your pleasure slams through you. 

“How did that feel?” he kisses back up your chest to your mouth. 

“Can you do that again?” you whine into his mouth. “I’ll help you with your cock too. Please, please.” you grab his hardened length once more. 

“I can take care of myself.” he chuckles, removing your hand. “We can try something else.” he leans back to search your face. 

“Yeah, anything.” you nod, chewing your lip. You watch him lay back on the bed and he starts to pull you over. “What do you want me to do?” you tilt your head looking down at him. 

“I want you to sit on my face so I can kiss your cunny.” he chuckles watching your eyes widen. 

“Jace.” he chuckles at your scandalized tone. 

“If you don’t like it we can do something else.” he rubs his thumb into your hip. His chest swells as you start to straddle his head and he places his hands on your hips leading you down to his waiting mouth. He licks up your center and you shutter above him. “Is that okay?” he looks up at your face. 

“Yes.” you pant nodding your head. He repeats the action and listens to your soft whimpers. He pulls your hips down and presses his tongue into your center. “Mm, Jace, I-“ you gasp as your legs start to shake. He slowly starts to rock you against his mouth and broken moans fall from your mouth. 

The sounds you're making are going straight to Jaces cock. He takes one of his hands from your hips and brings it down to his leaking cock. His hips jerk into his hand and he groans into you as you slowly start to rock against his face. The whine that comes from you when he encases your bud only spurs him on more. His tongue flicks against you quickly and your body goes taut. 

“Jacaerys, I- please, Gods please,” you cry out as your pleasure washes through you. 

He continues to lash his tongue faster and your whines and gasps become more high pitched. You’re pleading above him and he tightens his grip on his cock wishing it was your crying cunny. He groans when your legs tighten around his head as your pleasure starts to seep out of you. 

“Jace please, I- It’s,” a small scream comes from you and your eyes roll back as your body is pushed over the edge. He pulls back as your pleasure coats his face and his shoots across his stomach. He slides his tongue against your slit once more and your hand tangles in his hair. 

“Okay, okay.” he chuckles, rubbing his hands up your back. “You doing okay up there?” his fingers trace down your spine. 

“I wanna lay down.” you loosen your fingers in his hair. 

“Then come lay down with me.” he starts to lift you off his mouth. “How are you feeling?” you curl against him and he pulls the covers over the both of you. 

“Good.” you press your lips to his chest. “Tired.” you look up at him and he scoots you up to press his lips to yours. “But I just wanna keep kissing you.” you start to crawl on top of him. 

“We should get some sleep.” he chuckles, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“We will.” you press your chest against his. “Later.” he groans and wraps his arms around your back. He lets his hand slide down to your ass and squeeze. “Jace,” you gasp, pressing against his cock. 

“Fuck.” he digs his fingers into you. “I think we-

“Oh,” you gasp as you rock your hips and feel him slide through your wetness. You press your lips against his and continue your movements as his fingers try to still you. “I like this.” you bury your hands in his hair. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” he kisses down your neck. “We should go to bed.” he mumbles, loosening his grip and letting you rock against him again. 

“I want more.” you whine rubbing yourself on his cock. “Jace please,” you softly plead and he lifts your hips up trailing his hand between your thighs. 

“Let me know if it’s too much okay?” you nod, burying your head in his neck. He circles his finger around your entrance before slowly pushing it in. 

“Mm,” you whimper and his breathing deepens listening to your soft noises. “Jacaerys,” your voice cracks when his thumb brushes against your bud. 

“How does it feel?” he whispers, pressing his lips to the side of your head. He listens to your small gasps and rubs his other hand on your back. “Tell me.” he coaxes, pumping his finger faster and your legs start to shake. 

“Good,” you whine. “More.” you plead and you gasp feeling a second finger pushing at your entrance. “Yes, Jace,” you moan at the stretch of the second finger and push your hips down onto his hand. 

“Your cunny feels so good.” he chuckles, starting to move his fingers faster. Your gasps become higher pitched and he smirks hearing your pleasure louder than the storm outside. 

“I want your cock.” you lift up from his neck and take in his flushed face. He pushes his fingers faster and watches your eyes close as the most ethereal sound leaves your lips “Please.” your head falls and he feels you pulse around his fingers. 

“Are you satisfied now?” he smirks as you collapse against his chest with your cunny still fluttering around his fingers.

“More.” you plead breathlessly, kissing across his chest. “Please.” you whine when his hips jerk up. 

“You’re sure?” he rolls your hips into his. 

“Yes.” you nod your head. “Please.” you whine letting him lift your hips, he grabs his cock and slides it up your slit. “Ja- mm,” he slowly presses his tip in, groaning at the way your cunny envelops him. 

“Are you okay?” he rubs your back and you nod your head. “You feel so good.” he pushes another inch in while listening to your whimpers. You softly press your hips down and whine at the stretch. 

“Jacaerys,” you whine and he holds his arm around you tighter as he starts to press into you again as you kiss across his chest. He pushes the rest of the way inside lowly cursing when your walls tighten around him. “Feels so full.” you whisper. 

“Let me know when I can move.” his breath catches when you roll your hips. “Gods,” his fingers dig into you. He slowly lifts your hips and slides you back down watching your face twist with pleasure. 

“Yes.” you shake in his arms as he starts a slow pace. 

He pumps into you listening as more whimpers spill from your mouth as you slide against his chest. He’s trying his hardest to hold off on his pleasure but the feel of you squeezing him and the sounds you make are sending him closer to the edge. You start to push your hips down to meet his and he starts to hammer up into you. 

“Jace, I,” you claw into his chest. “I’m, please, Jacaer-“ you let out a small sob as your pleasure rips through you. 

“Fuck,” he groans slamming up into once more before he spills inside of you. You’re fully collapsed on top of him as his hips still softly jerk up into you. Small whimpers come from you as he holds you closely and pets your hair. “Are you ready to go to sleep now?” he hums, lifting you off his cock. 

You nod your head and he pulls the blankets over you before wrapping his arms around your back, letting you sleep on his chest. He presses his lips against your forehead and rubs your back until he hears your even breathing when sleep takes over. 

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masterlist 🔌

noooooo dont let me fall for jace rn

taglist ✍️

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers @eternalwinters

[4ranghaes]

Can you continiue your woonhak scenario from your bnd when they’re jealous?? Like what would it be like in the dorms and what would rest of the boys say??

kim woonhak x reader [fluff, fem!reader, reader’s a high school student]

a/n - yes!!! omg this is such a cute idea thank you anonie :))) i do have a fic pretty similar to this but i’ve tried to change it up a bit

part 1

17:52 - “guys! we’re home!” jaehyun yelled into the dorm, woonhak’s arm still linked with yours behind the pair in front of you.

sungho rolled his eyes, “yeah, idiot, we can hear the do—”

“and woonagi’s girlfriend is here!” he finished, the three men in the living room all staring at each other in shock, leaning to get a look at the front door.

riwoo and jaehyun had taken off their shoes, smiling evilly at the members further in the dorm. you stayed in the entrance way, giving an apologetic smile to woonhak.

“i’m sorry for anything they say, or do—” he started, grabbing your arm before you could walk away.

you smiled, cupping his face, “it’s fine, woonie! really, i don’t mind. i’m excited to meet them.”

he rolled his eyes, grumbling as he let you go, “i’m not.”

“hi,” you said shyly, introducing yourself to the members politely, woonhak appearing behind you and placing a protective hand on your back. your school uniform still covered your body, your bag slung over one shoulder.

“nice to meet you, nice to meet you, come on, we’re going to my room,” woonhak said, hurriedly as he took your bag, pulling you along.

“wait a minute!” leehan exclaimed, “do we not get to introduce ourselves?”

“no,” riwoo said, shaking his head definitely, “woonhak made that very clear.”

you giggled slightly, looking apologetically at woonhak, who pouted.

“no, g–go ahead,” he sighed, waving a hand dismissively.

“what? what?!” sungho laughed, “tell us!”

“because this is my girlfriend!” jaehyun yelled, impersonating woonhak’s whining from the walk home, bursting out into laughter afterwards as your boyfriend sighed next to you.

“he said that?!” taesan laughed, “ya! woonhak-ah, don’t worry, we won’t try and steal your girl!”

“he hasn’t even let her come to the dorms!” riwoo said quickly, looking at woonhak’s pissed off expression.

“yeah! i didn’t! and she is my girlfriend! and you two said that if i brought her here i could have all the time in the world!” he exclaimed in the classic woonagi whining voice, wrapping an arm around your body and bringing you close, “she knows all your names, she’s a big fan! and you know her name, boom, done! now we’re going into my room!”

he grabbed your wrist, storming off to his bedroom and dragging you with him as you waved goodbye to the members quickly.

“ya! door open at least 3 inches!” sungho exclaimed, woonhak grumbling in return, slamming the door to prove a point.

“ya,” you laughed, running a hand through your boyfriend’s hair as he sat on the bed, standing in between his legs, “they’re winding you up on purpose, you know that right?”

he pouted, rolling his eyes, “i know.” his hands were wrapped loosely around your legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he shrugged, trying to remain cool. “i just don’t like them teasing me, especially about you.”

you smiled, leaning down and kissing the top of his head as he grinned, leaning his head up and encouraging you to lean back down and press a kiss to his lips.

“ya! kim woonhak!” taesan yelled, stood in the doorway.

“hyung!” woonhak whined, throwing a pillow at the door, taesan deflecting the hit. “get out!”

“i just wanted to say we’re making dinner for 7,” he said, an evil grin on his face as he closed the door slowly, “woonhak was making out with his girlfriend!”

[nanahachi3]

Shower | Jeno

I am sleep deprived and I just posted it so please excuse any mistake

Synopsis: In which a showering with your boyfriend can turn into something more.

Warning: making out, blow Job, shower sex , cum eating.

y/n stripped down her clothes, standing naked in front of Jeno, who slowly removed his shirt. "Shall I start the water?" he asked, looking at her and winking.

She rolled her eyes at that. "Go ahead", She replied as he walked over and plugged in the sink with the showerhead. He took off his pants and stepped inside the shower with her and started the water.

The temperature felt good against her cold skin and she let out a small sigh of satisfaction.

They stood close to each other and stared into the spray of water. They didn't know how long they stood there. They didn't say much, and neither needed to; they just enjoyed the company of each other until it started getting uncomfortable.

"Jeno, I can feel something poking me from down", she whispered.

Jeno could feel himself getting hard he grunted "You are the one making it hard now take care of it"

 

The heat that rose in his chest was unexpected. He hadn't been thinking clearly, "What do you mean by that? What do you want me to do!" She mumbled, looking at his length, which stood clear and hard.

"Suck it" he growled as he reached for her breast with both of his hands cupping her soft ones. y/n let out an audible gasp at his sudden gesture and then he squeezed and pulled her nipple. She let out a moan that made him hard even more.

He then moved lower, took her other nipple between his lips, and suckled it gently.

"Do you like that? Do you want to continue?" He asked as he continued licking her nipples. y/n whimpered as he sucked on her nipples harder.

He then placed kisses all over her breasts and stomach, moving downwards.

"Baby, I will eat you up later. First, suck my dick", he growled. His hands found their way between her legs as they roamed across her folds searching for her centre. y/n moaned loudly at the feel of his strong fingers exploring every inch of her vagina.

Jeno stopped momentarily and looked at her face. He then resumed stroking her pussy, rubbing and squeezing.

She moaned "Do you want me to give you a blow job?"

"Yes,", he breathed out, and then his fingers returned to work stroking y/n's core.

y/n leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes letting go of every coherent thought as Jeno thrust his fingers into her with increasing speed and force. Soon she lost herself to the pleasure she had never experienced before.

She pulled away and lowered herself gently touching his erection in the process. His groan told her that it was exactly what she wanted. The sound of the water hitting her and the soap suds splashing everywhere seemed to fade away leaving just her and Jeno alone.

"Baby... you are making me hard", Jeno spoke as she slowly moved her hand down to his member.

"How do I suck it!" She whispered moaning softly.

"Fuck me, baby!" He commanded and she gladly obliged. He began to pump into her mouth taking her in deep and faster with each movement. It felt heavenly and she couldn't help but moan as she continued her movements. She pulled away a little and looked up at him.

"Lick it"

She nodded vigorously "Yes"

"Good girl"

y/n felt the tip of his dick hit her throat making her gulp. She lapped at it quickly, enjoying the taste and feeling its warmth as she tried to swallow him down deeper. He groaned again.

 

"More!" Jeno ordered.

Without questioning why she began to move her hand rapidly back and forth, licking every inch of his shaft, she sucked on him as he pounded harder into her mouth. Jeno's hands dug into the back of her head as he continued thrusting his cock into her open mouth.

y/n knew that she was driving him crazy, she could see the sweat dripping from his forehead and the bulge of the tip of his penis.

Jeno groaned deeply as he came into her mouth. She swallowed as much as possible, savouring every drop of cum in her mouth. He collapsed onto her shoulders panting heavily.

"More" he grumbled.

She took his shaft once again in her mouth and moved in slow circles sucking on him.

She moaned with pleasure as he pulled out of her mouth again and slammed his fist into the shower wall beside her.

"Shit...that was..." he trailed off, unable to speak the last word.

y/n didn't wait for him to finish.

She licked his balls slowly moving down to his cock and then swirling her tongue on his engorged sac.

She lifted her face to look at him only to find the man watching her with his mouth slightly agape. He was completely blown away.

"Go, baby! You're too good!"

He exclaimed.

y/n hummed with delight at his praise. Her cheeks blushed as her fingers played with his member.

He reached down and grasped her chin pulling her up to look into his face. 

He leaned in, kissing her with fervour.

"Your lips taste so good" he moaned.

[admirationandromantics]

O.M.G.

I FOUND THIS PROFILE A COUPLE DAYS AGO I AM IN SHOCK YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING. back to the request, how about a submissive Josh?...where he moans and begs to be fucked and looks at you with his puppy eyes? omg that would be perfect♡

p.s.: thank you so much for your work! it's really fantastic:)

You're too sweet!!! I can definitely see him just sitting on his knees, begging you to fuck his brains out, yes. I guess many see him as kinda dominant, but I personally think he’s a switch. Anyways, enjoy some sub Josh headcanons! 

Submissive Josh

You’ve been teasing him all day, knowing that he’s been hot and bothered, not having had a chance to do something about it. You arrive inside, and he immediately starts kissing you, hoping it’ll lead somewhere. You kiss him back, but pull away quickly to take off your coat and outerwear. Taking a long time so he just stands there like a lost puppy, waiting for you to give him attention again. 

“Something wrong, Josh?” “Fucking hell, I’ve waited all day, please, just please” “A whiny mess, are you?” 

You sit him down on the sofa, placing yourself on top, straddling him. His hands wander, of course, but you don’t mind. He’s allowed to this time. While kissing, you feel him twitch underneath you, hips starting to grind against you, begging for attention. 

“Josh… You’re not gonna get anything if you keep this up” He whimpers in reply, stopping himself from getting off on you. Your hand goes to the back of his head, grabbing his hair and pulling it back. He looks up, making you lock eyes with this adorable messy man. They’re glossy and desperate, wide-eyed like a puppy, begging you for satisfaction. 

“You want me to do something?” “Yes” he whimpers, hands going up your waist. You cup his bulge, the small touch making him let out a desperate moan for more. “Tell me how much you want it” “So, so much. I need you so bad” 

With a satisfied answer, you get off his lap, unbuttoning his pants painfully slow as he starts regulating his breathing. You drag his pants and boxers down, his dick popping out throbbing and red. You take hold of him, pumping a few times slowly, causing his head to fall back on the cushions as he moans your name. 

However, you’re not done teasing him, and your tongue makes its way to his shaft, small licks all over, especially on his tip. His hips bulge automatically, wanting you to take him fully. “Can you” “Use your words” “Please suck me off, get me off, right now, please” 

He looks down, breathing heavily, chest heaving and eyes pleading. How can you say no to that? Finally, you fully take him, letting him into your mouth and filling as far as you can go, hand still squeezing his shaft and other one massaging his balls. You suck your chins in, making sure not to hurt him with your teeth. 

He pleads for you to go faster, repressing the urge to hump his hips into you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head down on him. You sense his tension, steadying yourself on his thighs as you up your speed, making him finish not long after. It had been a long day teasing him after all, and you’re surprised he even lasted this long based on it. 

You take it, showing him your tongue filled with his liquid, and swallowing it right after. He looks at you in awe as you take your place on his lap again, kissing him deeply and letting him taste himself.

[fashionteahouse]

Now I must have an Embry NSFW

Thank you lovie!! 🌸🌸

i gotchu bb 😽! this was funn hope you enjoy :)

nsfw alphabet hcs - embry call

a ~ aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

it took you by surprise at first, but he’s more touchy and affectionate after the fact. insists showers together even if the cleaning part never gets fully finished, you both are sighing in each others arms in bed regardless. gets hungry and will want to go to sleep and wants you right in his arms.

b ~ body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

when he wakes up in the morning, his shirtless nights remind him of the abs that he possess. whenever he gets out of the shower, he likes to look in the mirror at his body. that’s the thing about shapeshifting that he likes, he didn’t have to exercise to have the nice build that he has.

his favorite body part is his partner’s lips. they’re so soft and moist. open kisses is the thing he enjoys a lot. his warm thumbs can’t help but feel the soft feeling as he swipes them, lucky moments include when you accidentally dart your tongue out and poke his finger due to accidentally licking your lips from instinct.

c ~ cum (anything to do with cum basically)

your cum turns him on more than him cumming. he doesn’t mind at all getting messy with your cum. however, doesn’t want his cum on your body, he feels it’s too messy.

d ~ dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

the times he helped you look for your underwear, were all pretend. he would stick them somewhere for the times you weren’t around and he would miss you, he would cup your underwear around his dick as he jerks off. wants to more of it, but enjoys homemade tapes.

e ~ experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

before phasing, the farthest he went was second base, however he never told anyone. after phasing, his newfound attention made him pay more attention to what feels good and what doesn’t. he has a good idea of what he’s doing but he learns something new each time he does it.

f ~ favorite position (this goes without saying)

he feels it’s underrated, reverse cowgirl, he gets to feel everything. the front and back.

g ~ goofy ( are they more serious in the moment or are they humorous, etc)

in the beginning, a few giggles will come out of you from his humorous remarks, but it’s only to make you feel comfortable. he’s very in tune so he’s pretty intense and it rises as time passes.

h ~ hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes?)

he’s groomed. he trims before getting into the shower, he feels that too much hair carries dirt. the carpet of course match the drapes.

i ~ intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

in the moment, his words are simple but yet poetic. they make you feel good, confident and comfortable. he takes his time and doesn’t rush which adds onto the effect.

j ~ jack off (masturbation head cannon)

he really only did it if he hadn’t gotten any in a very long time which is rare but if his partner isn’t around, he does it but it’s quick. he will send videos if you request.

k ~ kinks (one or more of their kinks)

resuming during an orgasm, he wishes to do it more often, but your hands being restricted as you’re overstimulated.

l ~ location (favorite places to do the do)

wherever it happens, he will adjust. he doesn’t have a favorite but he doesn’t care as long as there’s flat surface. he does enjoy car sex.

m ~ motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

their partner helping him take their clothes off. also them making the first move almost brings him on edge.

n ~ no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything degrading. sex for him is utopia in a way, everything about it is good. turn offs is if he feels like he wants it more than you. if his partner is putting little to no effort, it will feel like a chore for him.

o ~ oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

he loves giving oral. he loves the taste, licking at someone’s soul. he doesn’t look for receiving one, but he will happily accept it. his skill is good, almost too good.

p ~ pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual ?)

honestly depends. both are very passionate.

q ~ quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)

he doesn’t mind them, but preferably, he likes to take his time and soak in the feeling and go on own pace, doesn’t like to feel rushed.

r ~ risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks?)

they’re down to experiment if it’s something that’s on his mind for some time, he won’t do something in the spur of the moment, he likes to think things through. taking risks are done but very rarely, he feels if it’s not broken, don’t try to fix it.

s ~ stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

he can go on and on and on and on. he lasts pretty long, there’s times when you thought he’s finished, but nope.

t ~ toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

he’s not a fan of them honestly. he would use them if his partner had some but he feels he can pleasure you better than a toy.

u ~ unfair (how much they like to tease)

enjoys it almost more than he should. the trait rubbed off on you, you find yourself teasing him like he does you, he still enjoys it.

v ~ volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

his volume is low, but the sounds in the room helps him concentrate, the sound of your small sighs, bed squeaks, the sound of skin rubbing and slapping against one another. quiet grunts and groans are heard from him.

w ~ wildcard (random head cannon)

one time he made you genuinely cry during climax. he thought he did something wrong until you told him it was due to it being so good. that’s when he started to have an idea of how good he was.

x ~ x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

its veiny and hung. it’s heavy. however, he holds himself like he isn’t, but you know better.

y ~ yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

yes.

z ~ zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

since he goes on and on, he gets tired once he sees that his partner is tired. he feels after sex sleep is the best sleep.

[circle-with-me]

i swear i'd give you anything

pairing: jolly karlsson x reader

cw: a whole lotta angst. sexual content. if you’re not 18 or older get outta here.

word count: >1k

disclaimer: the pov situation in this is an absolute nightmare. this was not beta’d and barely proofread. i’m rusty and fresh off of hiatus so we’re gonna pretend that’s why. <3 you.

Jolly is not one to beg. Even when he is desperate. He would rather suffer in silence—would rather carry the weight of the entire world on his shoulders than place any burden on you. Despite his attempts at keeping up a normal appearance, you are not fooled by it. You have known something is wrong. It’s clear in how the tension that has grown in his body over the recent weeks sets firmly in his jaw. When you speak there is a distance in his eyes that is only present when he is in his head. What little sleep he gets is spent tossing and turning until eventually he gives in and locks himself in his studio. 

It’s hard watching the love of your life suffer silently. It’s even harder when he won’t let you in. You tell yourself it’s only temporary and support him for a far. Meals are left at his door. You do everything you can do to be there without hovering.

Jolly is not one to beg. 

But tonight—it has all become too unbearable. 

He can’t quite pinpoint what it is that he needs, but when his hand connects to the body lying next to him, Jolly feels more at peace than he has in a long time. He blinks away the tears in his eyes—your form becoming more visible in the dark. The soft skin of your arm warms his palm as he runs his hand up and over your shoulder. As you stir, he moves closer. His arm encircles your waist as featherlight kisses are pressed to your skin. Sighing, you arch back into his chest and thread your fingers through his hair. Your scent floods his senses, and he finds himself lost in regret over how neglectful he has been. 

You turn towards him encasing his face with your hands. Tracing the edges of his cheeks with your thumbs you begin to see just how tired he truly is. You press your forehead against his. Intimacy between the two of you had certainly suffered in the recent weeks. All the stress and depression that had built up left him feeling inadequate. He could not bear the thought of disappointing you. Jolly pulls you closer and kisses you. A deep, indulgent kiss that ignites you both. 

“I need you,” Jolly whispers. “Please.” 

You guide his hand under your shirt letting him do the rest. He slides his palm up your stomach and around your breast teasing at the nipple with his thumb and index finger. Your shirt is removed and quickly discarded so he can get his mouth on you. You tug the hair at his scalp as he sucks and bites on your nipple. His muffled moans only make you tug harder. He grabs onto your waist, pulling your leg over his hip. He slots his thigh between your legs, and you mindlessly grind against him. Jolly's hold on you tightens--keeping you firmly against him as you rock back and forth. His focus is now solely on watching you as you use him to reach your high. You feel his thigh muscles flex repeatedly underneath you and it pushes you over the edge. When you orgasm, Jolly swears he sees the same stars that you do. Your thighs clench around his. Your nails dig into his shoulders in the most deliciously painful way. He crashes your lips together—so desperately needing to taste his name as it leaves your lips. 

The attention you are receiving is so overwhelming. Jolly’s hands constantly move over your body, touching and grasping anywhere that he can. Your head feels so fuzzy and your body is pulsating. You are so lost in the way his lips feel against your skin that you barely register how hard he is against you. You snake a hand between the two of you and run your fingers over the outline of his cock. You press your palm against him, and he gasps as you rub and cup him from the outside of his sweats. He is so reactive to your touch but flinches as soon as you reach for his waistband. 

You pull away immediately and the pained expression you are met with shatters your heart. A quiet apology leaves his lips as he buries his head in the pillow beneath him. 

"Did I do something wrong?" You ask, confused.  

"No! Of course, not." He sighs, looking back out at you.  

“If you’re not ready, it’s okay. We can take a break or try again another time.” 

“It's not that.” He groans, sitting up on his elbow. “It's just…everything that has happened. You have supported me through all of it.” Jolly glides his hand over your body; his eyes follow along with every dip and curve. “You feel like a dream and I…I don’t feel like I deserve this.” 

“You don’t deserve what?” 

Jolly swallows. His eyes cast downwards. 

“I don’t deserve to come.” 

You shift next to him—closing the space you had made moments before. Your fingers trace the edges of his sweats briefly before pushing your hand inside. When you wrap your fingers around him, he is heavy and leaking in your hand. The second you swipe your thumb over his tip he is moaning into your mouth. You set a slow but steady pace, twisting your wrist the way you know he loves. 

“Tell me again,” you speak breathlessly against his lips, “that you don’t deserve this.” 

He shutters beneath you, more pre-cum leaks from his tip and you spread it over his cock. Jolly whines your name as he falls back against the pillow. You attach your lips to his neck, your hand picking up the pace to pull more whines from him. He digs his fingernails into your scalp. His hips jerk up to meet your grip. 

“Tell me every. little. thing,” you ask between kisses up his jaw, “every single thing that is heavy on your mind.” You sit up to straddle his thighs. 

“I'll make sure you forget all of it.” 

With one hand stroking his shaft, you focus your other hand on the head. The noise he makes when you spit on his cock nearly makes you forget what you are doing.  His nails scratch down your sides—the plump flesh of your ass becomes his anchor as he falls apart in your grasp.

“Say that you deserve to come.” 

Jolly chokes, his eyes flying open to meet yours. You repeat yourself and he whimpers. When your hand stops moving he wraps his own around yours, using both of your hands to stroke his cock in an urgent attempt to prolong how intoxicated he felt by your touch.

“Say it for me, sweetheart.”

He wants to. It’s on the tip of his tongue. He opens his mouth but finds his throat to be completely dry. You’re stunning above him. The two of you move in sync like you were made for each other—always the perfect fit. His orgasm builds inside of him quicker than he thought and he finds himself struggling to hold it back.

He stutters on the words, his voice trembling. He can’t focus. His mind is on too many things at once.

You bend over him. Just far enough to wrap your free hand ever so gently around his jaw. His eyes snap to you without hesitation. You smile sweetly at him, pushing the hair out of his face.

“Come on honey.. say it.”

Jolly swallows. You feel him twitch in your hand.

“I deserve to come.” He says softly.

“What was that?” You grip his jaw a little harder this time. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck, I—” The hand that was once wrapped around yours is now fisting the bed sheets. As he stares up at you, you catch a glimpse of the tears in his eyes. Just when you’re about to stop everything, he sits up and pulls your mouth to his.

When Jolly pulls away he looks down to watch the way your hand moves around his cock. You feel him begin to shake and you know he is not going to last much longer.

“I deserve to come… please…I’m so close.”

You slam your lips against his, nodding to give him the okay. It only takes a few more strokes before he’s spilling over your hand and hoarsely crying out your name. You work him through his orgasm until he’s removing your hand, the overstimulation becoming too much.

Jolly watches you clean the both of you up—something you insisted on. Seeing him this relaxed for the first time in so long made you feel like things were finally getting back to normal.

“I don’t deserve you, käraste.” He whispers as you crawl back in to bed.

“My sweet Joakim.” You whisper back as you settle into his arms. “You deserve everything.”

tags: @deathblacksmoke @darksigns-exe @malice-ov-mercy @baddestomens @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @shilohrosechicken @fadingangelwisp @kait16xo @lacktoesandtoddlerants @collective-heartbreak @collapsedglasshouses @meekahy @cookiesupplier

[beef-brisket]

Adam: What-? Lu, why-?

Lucifer: To get that collar off, only Michael and Gabriel can remove it.

Adam: ...I don't like this, Luci. I'm fine with this, really-.

Lucifer cupped his face: You have no powers, Adam.

Adam: I don't care- I don't want you going up there! I just got you back- I can't let them hurt you- but I can't do anything to stop them! Please, Lu. Just stay.

Lucifer: ...I... I can't, Adam. I've already told them about you- they'll... I don't know, but it'll be worse if we don't go.

Adam: Fine. Then I'll go.

Lucifer helped Adam stand. He was still recovering from the wound to his chest, and his private time with Seth.

Lucifer: Okay, good, lets-.

Adam: I'm going alone.

Lucifer: What? No. You're not going alone-!

Adam: And you're not going at all.

Lucifer: Adam-. I'm the king of Hell, and while you're down here, you have to listen to me-.

Adam: Don't pull that shit with me, Lucifer! I don't give a fuck who you are- we're not fucking with the army, alright? It'll be the fucking big dogs of Heaven, and they can fuck up Satan like he was nothing, and they'll do the same to you- and I can't protect you, okay?! Do you really think they'll take it off? Just... fucking listen to me, for once.

Lucifer: ...Adam-.

Adam: I've put you in enough danger, I got you fucking killed!

Lucifer: That was my fight to-!

Adam: Yeah, because of me! I dragged you into it! I was so up my own ass that I convinced you to help me get my fucking power back- putting you directly in harms way! I paraded you around their fucking streets! You're not going. Hell isn't going to rule itself.

Lucifer growled: You're not going-.

Adam: Then we're over!

The room was silent, Lucifer took a step back: The fuck are you talking about? Don't be a fucking idiot, Adam!

Adam: I'm not! You told them I was here, they'll destroy Hell and everyone in it- including you and Charlie, if I'm not at the fucking meeting spot! We're. Over. I'm going. I'm not letting you get hurt. Not again. I'd rather die. I'd rather suffer whatever Heaven wants to do to me than see your dead fucking body again! I can't watch you die again! It fucking killed me! I can't even imagine if you double died... I'd... I don't know what I would do...

Lucifer: ...P-Please, Adam. I'll find a way.

Adam pulled Lucifer in for a kiss: Don't you dare. I'm just holding you back. I've destroyed what we had in Canada. I'm so sorry, Lu... but I can't fucking do it. I can't... I can't watch you die...

Lucifer leaned his head on Adam's chest: This is Seth's fault...

Adam laughed: It's always the boomers fault.

Seth: I'm not a boomer-.

Adam: Shut the fuck up, you're an asshole. That's what you are.

Lucifer laughed and held Adam tightly: I shouldn't have said anything...

Adam shrugged: This was bound to happen eventually. It's no big deal, hot stuff. Fuck, I'm going to miss you. But don't forget about me while you rule a fucking kingdom, okay?

Lucifer: I could never forget you.

Adam: Good. Remember this ass, yeah?

Charlie: This was really sweet... until now.

-

Evan: You're not coming now? Tie his fuckimg hands together.

Adam glared as the exorcists tugged him over to their side of the meeting place, tying his hands together.

Lucifer: I... no. Look... Evan. I... that man means the world to me... I know he's done some bad things- but please... look after him, okay?

Evan sighed: ...Fuck. Fine.

Lucifer: And I want to see him, alright? Every week. Twice.

Even: Twice?! Fucks sake... fine. Twice.

Lucifer smiled at Adam as the angels tied him up. Adam never looked away. Not until a flash of light blinded Lucifer, Charlie amd Teddy.

When Lucifer blinked to readjust his eyes, they were gone.

Charlie: ...You're going after him, aren't you.

Lucifer: Damn fucking right I am.

Charlie sighs: Alright. I'll help.

Lucifer: Good, because you're my plan.

Charlie: Of course I am...

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

[speaknow-sw]

THE POET AND THE ROSE

Content : battle, injuries, execution, death, graphic description of torture, graphic description of beheading someone, treason.

A/N : Okay guys it’s 7k of plot. Also there’s only two more chapters after this one 😭😭 pls i’m gonna cry. Also I cooked with Anakin speech 🔥🔥 So what do you think ? Happy or sad ending ?

꧁ Chapter 7 : Wolves Among Lions ꧂

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

Her breath is the dawn, her touch the sea,

Each glance, a star that calls to me.

No crown nor throne could ever compare,

To the quiet heaven we two share.

The news of Obi-Wan’s death had struck like a blade to the chest. The messenger’s words echoed in the silence of the garden, shattering the fragile peace they had shared only moments before. Anakin stood frozen by the fountain, the carved crib forgotten at his feet, his hands trembling at his sides. His gaze, usually so steady, darted to you in disbelief.

“No,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “No, not Obi-Wan…”

Your heart twisted painfully at the raw anguish on his face. You stepped toward him, placing a gentle hand on his arm, but he pulled away abruptly, pacing like a caged animal. His shoulders heaved with the weight of grief and fury.

“I have to go,” he said, almost to himself. His voice was distant, hollow. “I have to fight. I have to end this.”

The thought of him leaving—of riding into battle with that torment in his heart—was unbearable. “Anakin, wait.”

He stopped and turned to you, his eyes dark with desperation. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to shrink until it was just the two of you, standing on the edge of a precipice. Then, with a sudden, frantic movement, he closed the distance between you and cupped your face in his hands.

“I don’t want to leave,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I don’t want to go.”

His lips found yours, pressing with an urgency that spoke of fear and longing. He kissed you deeply, as though trying to imprint the memory of you into his soul before he had to tear himself away. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and kissed you again. His hands trembled against your skin. “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. “Don’t say that.”

But he kissed you again, muttering apologies between each kiss. His lips trailed to your cheek, your temple, your jawline, desperate and reverent all at once.

“I’m sorry I brought you into this.” Another kiss. “I’m sorry I can’t give you peace.” Another kiss, softer this time. “I’m sorry I have to go.”

You gripped his tunic, holding him close as though you could anchor him to you, keep him from slipping away. “Anakin, please…”

“I’ll come back to you,” he vowed, his voice shaking. “I swear it. No battle, no enemy, no force in this world will keep me from you.”

He kissed you again, slower now, lingering. His hand moved to your belly, resting gently where your child grew. “I’ll come back to you both. I’ll see our child born.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. “You have to.”

“I will,” he promised, his eyes fierce despite the sorrow in them. “I’ll survive every sword, every arrow, every betrayal. I will crawl through hell itself if it means coming back to you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with truth and love. He kissed you once more, softly this time, as though savoring the taste of hope.

Then, with a reluctant step back, he released you. His gaze lingered on you for a long moment, as if memorizing every detail of your face.

“Wait for me,” he said quietly.

“I will,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the ache in your heart.

Anakin nodded, drawing in a shaky breath. He turned toward his waiting men, his posture straightening, his grief and despair buried beneath the mantle of the warrior he had to be.

But as he mounted his horse and glanced back at you one last time, you saw the truth in his eyes—he wasn’t just fighting for England or for duty.

He was fighting to come home. To you. To the life you were building together.

And as he rode away, the only sound was the distant echo of hooves, carrying him further from you, and the whispered promise that lingered between you both:

I will come back.

The field was a sea of chaos—steel clashing, men shouting, and the stench of blood thick in the air. Smoke curled into the gray sky, the horizon blurred by fire and ruin. Anakin rode through the fray with ruthless precision, his sword cutting down those who stood in his path. But amidst the cacophony of war, he saw him—a figure standing tall and defiant, sword in hand, a beacon of resistance. The field was a sea of chaos—steel clashing, men shouting, and the stench of blood thick in the air. Smoke curled into the gray sky, the horizon blurred by fire and ruin. Anakin rode through the fray with ruthless precision, his sword cutting down those who stood in his path. But amidst the cacophony of war, he saw him—a figure standing tall and defiant, sword in hand, a beacon of resistance.

"Wallace!" Anakin’s voice cut through the din, a furious call that carried across the battlefield. He spurred his horse forward, dismounting in one fluid motion as he closed the distance.

The Scottish rebel turned, his expression dark with sorrow and rage. His battle-worn face was streaked with sweat and dirt, yet his eyes burned with conviction. "Skywalker." Wallace’s voice was low, a storm beneath the calm. "Come to play the king’s hound again?"

Anakin ignored the taunt, his gaze unwavering. "What madness drives you to this? We had peace!"

Wallace let out a bitter laugh, stepping closer until they stood mere feet apart. His sword gleamed in the dim light, ready but not yet raised. "Peace?" he echoed. "There is no peace when men like you and I are pawns in the games of kings."

The words hung heavy between them, like a tragic truth neither could deny.

Without warning, Wallace lunged, and their swords met with a resounding clang. The force reverberated through Anakin’s arms, and he gritted his teeth, parrying the blow with practiced ease.

They fought like equals, their strikes measured and fierce. Anakin moved with precision, his blade seeking openings, but Wallace was relentless, each swing fueled by grief and fury.

"You fight for a crown that cares nothing for you," Wallace growled, their swords locked in a tense embrace. "Your king feasts while his people starve. You fight for the wrong master, Skywalker."

Anakin shoved him back, his jaw clenched. "And you think rebellion brings peace? You slaughter innocents, Wallace. Men, women, children—all caught in your war."

Wallace’s face twisted with pain, a flicker of regret in his eyes. "Innocents die because kings wage wars. But I will not kneel to men who see us as nothing more than cattle." He stepped back, lowering his sword for a brief moment. "And neither should you."

Anakin’s grip on his sword tightened, his mind reeling. Doubt crept in, a whisper beneath his loyalty. "What would you have me do?" he asked, voice quieter now. "Abandon my country? My people?"

"Protect them," Wallace said firmly. "But know who your true enemy is. It’s not me. It never was."

The battle raged on around them, but in that moment, it was as if the world stood still. Two men, both warriors, both bound by duty and pride, stood at a crossroads.

Anakin’s heart pounded in his chest, torn between duty and something deeper—a desire for truth, for justice beyond crowns and borders.

Wallace took a step back, his gaze steady. "When you see it," he said quietly, "when you realize what you’re fighting for—it’ll be too late."

Then he turned and vanished into the chaos, leaving Anakin standing in the heart of the battlefield, sword lowered, mind in turmoil.

The words echoed in his mind as the battle pressed on: Know who your true enemy is.

And for the first time, Anakin was sure who that was.

In his notebook that night, Anakin wrote one line:

"The lion may fall, but his roar will echo forever."

The betrayal had been planned in whispers, forged in darkened tents and sealed with French coin. The agents moved silently, weaving through the Scottish ranks like shadows—faces obscured, motives hidden. Their goal was clear: dismantle Wallace's rebellion not by force of arms, but by breaking the bonds of loyalty that held his men together.

Anakin stood at the edge of the battlefield, the scent of blood and smoke thick in the air. He had expected to face Wallace once more, steel against steel, their respect forged in the crucible of war. Instead, what he found was chaos—a rebellion unraveling from within.

Rumors of French interference had reached his ears, but the scope of their involvement was only now becoming clear. His brow furrowed as he watched the disorganized retreat of the Scots, their once-unified force now splintered into factions. The men weren’t just fleeing—they were abandoning their cause.

And somewhere in the distance, Wallace was losing his war.

In a quiet clearing near the Scottish border, Count Aulbry met with a handful of disillusioned Scottish leaders. His demeanor was calm, his words honeyed with promises of gold and clemency.

"Wallace is a dead man walking," Aulbry said, his voice smooth as silk. "The French crown has no interest in seeing this rebellion succeed. What they want is chaos—a distraction to keep the English preoccupied while their troops slip into England unnoticed."

The Scots exchanged uneasy glances. Some of them had fought beside Wallace for years, but the tides of war had shifted. The dream of freedom had become a nightmare of endless bloodshed.

"And what do we get in return?" one of them asked.

Aulbry smiled faintly. "Peace. Land. Titles. And most importantly, survival." He leaned forward, his gaze steely. "You think Wallace can lead you to freedom? No. He’ll lead you to your graves. But if you hand him over, your families will live. Your lands will be spared. And you’ll no longer be pawns in a war you cannot win."

It took less than a day for the betrayal to be set in motion.

Anakin was overseeing the wounded when a messenger arrived, breathless and pale.

"My lord!" the young man called out, his voice cutting through the din of the camp. "Urgent news from the north."

Anakin turned, his sharp gaze locking on the messenger. "Speak."

The messenger took a steadying breath. "Wallace has been captured."

The words hung in the air, heavy and unreal.

"By the English?" Anakin asked, though he already knew the answer.

The messenger shook his head. "No, my lord. By his own men."

Anakin's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "Why?"

"French agents," the messenger continued, his voice trembling with the weight of the news. "They’ve paid off key figures in Wallace's army. Promised them land and wealth in exchange for his capture."

Anakin turned away, his hands clenched into fists. He felt the familiar sting of betrayal—not just for Wallace, but for himself. The rebellion that had cost countless lives, that had torn through the north like wildfire, had been orchestrated by men with no allegiance to Scotland or its freedom.

And now, as Wallace sat in chains, the true enemy was making its move.

The betrayal was swift and merciless.

Wallace's men, those he had trusted most, turned on him under cover of darkness. He had been tending to the wounded when they came for him—faces he knew, voices he recognized.

"Why?" Wallace asked, his voice heavy with sorrow as they bound his hands in rough ropes.

One of the men avoided his gaze. "We’ve no choice. The French will see us dead if we don’t comply. And the English..." He trailed off, shame flickering across his face.

Wallace shook his head. "We fought for freedom. You swore oaths to your people. To this land."

"And what has it brought us?" another man spat. "Death. Ruin. We’re fighting a war that can’t be won."

Wallace's eyes softened with understanding, but the pain of betrayal was etched deeply into his features.

"You think peace will come from surrender?" he asked quietly. "You think the French or the English will spare you once you’ve turned your back on your own?"

The men didn’t answer. They all knew. Once a traitor, forever a betrayer. 

As they dragged him toward the English camp, Wallace cast one last glance at the land he had fought for—a land now fractured by greed and fear.

Later that night, Wallace was bound in chains, and brought before Anakin. His once-proud figure was slumped, yet his eyes still burned with defiance. Anakin dismissed his soldiers, choosing to confront Wallace alone.

"I don’t understand," Anakin said, pacing the tent. "This isn’t you. Your men were paid off, weren’t they?"

Wallace’s laugh was bitter. "You think I would sell my soul for French coin? No, General. The French sought to divide England’s attention, and they found traitors among my ranks. They played us both. And now, here I am, a prisoner of the same crown I sought to defy."

Anakin clenched his fists, his respect for Wallace only deepening. "You’re an honorable man, Wallace. You don’t deserve this."

Wallace looked up, his voice soft but unyielding. "Honor doesn’t matter to kings, Skywalker. You should know that by now."

Anakin stood by the fire that night, staring into the flames as if searching for answers within them. He thought of Wallace—of their last meeting on the battlefield, swords clashing amidst the chaos of war.

Wallace had spoken of pawns and kings, of battles fought for causes neither of them truly controlled. And now, those words echoed in Anakin's mind like a haunting refrain.

"General," another messenger approached, his face pale with fear. "There’s more. Seven thousand French troops have landed at Dover. They’re marching inland."

Anakin’s heart sank. The betrayal ran deeper than he had feared.

The French had used the Scots as a distraction, turning the rebellion into a smokescreen for their invasion. And now, with Wallace captured and the north in disarray, England was vulnerable.

Anakin stood tall before his men—a force of 5,000 battle-hardened soldiers gathered on the windswept fields outside Coventry. The sky above them hung heavy with storm clouds, and the distant roar of the sea echoed in the air. His men stood in silence, waiting. Their eyes locked on him, not with fear, but with hope.

He looked across their ranks—these men who had followed him through blood and fire, who had given their lives for a kingdom that too often gave them nothing in return. His voice began low, steady, like the calm before a storm.

"Brothers," he called, his voice carrying across the field. "We stand here, not as pawns of kings, nor as servants to crowns. We stand here as men—free men. Free to choose our own fate. Free to defend what we love. Free to live… or die… with honor."

The soldiers stood still, listening intently. Anakin’s gaze swept over them, his expression grave.

"For years, we’ve fought on foreign soil. We’ve bled for England. We’ve buried our brothers in lands far from home. And what have we been given in return? Betrayal. Ignorance. Arrogance from men who sit on thrones and feast, while we starve in the mud!"

A murmur spread through the ranks. They knew the truth of his words.

Anakin stepped forward, his voice rising with passion.

"Today, I won’t ask you to fight for kings or crowns. I won’t speak of duty to men who don’t deserve your loyalty. No!" His voice sharpened, cutting through the air like a blade. "Today, I ask you to fight for yourselves! For your families. For your homes. For England—not the England of kings and lords, but the England we build with our own hands!"

The soldiers began to nod, their eyes hardening with resolve.

"The French are here," Anakin continued, his voice darkening. "Seven thousand of them. They march on our soil with treachery in their hearts and chains in their hands. They think us weak. They think us divided. They think we will fall." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. "But they do not know us. They do not know the strength of our hearts, the fire in our blood. They do not know that we are the lions of England, and we will never kneel !"

A roar began to build in the crowd, low and fierce.

Anakin’s expression hardened, his voice dropping into a dangerous growl.

"They bought traitors among the Scots to turn on their own. They sow chaos and fear, hoping to break us from within. They took Wallace—an honorable man—and cast him into chains! And now, they think we’ll cower before them. They think we’ll surrender. But hear me now—" His voice thundered across the field. "WE. WILL. NOT!"

The soldiers roared in agreement, their fists pounding their shields.

"They come to take our lands, to burn our villages, to kill our children. But we will meet them on the field. We will drive them into the sea! We will show them that England is not theirs to take. England belongs to us!"

The men cheered louder, their voices rising like the clash of swords.

Anakin raised his sword high, his eyes burning with fury and pride.

"Fight for your brothers! Fight for your wives and your children! Fight for your freedom! And fight, not because a king commands you—but because you are free men! Because this is our land, and no man, no king, no foreign army will ever take it from us!"

The crowd erupted in chants, his name echoing through the fields like a battle cry.

"ANAKIN! ANAKIN! ANAKIN!"

He lowered his sword, his chest heaving with emotion as he took them in. These were not just soldiers. They were men of England. Men who would fight to the last breath to protect what was theirs.

He stepped closer to the front ranks, his voice now softer but no less intense.

"Let them come," he said, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Let them bring their legions, their knights, their warhorses. We will meet them with iron and fire. And we will send them home—bloodied, broken, and beaten."

The soldiers’ chants grew louder, shaking the ground beneath their feet.

Anakin stood among them, not above them. He was their general, their leader, but most of all, he was one of them. A man fighting for his people.

With a final roar, he raised his sword to the sky.

"FOR ENGLAND!"

"FOR ENGLAND!" the men bellowed in unison, their voices carrying across the land like a storm breaking free.

As the chant of his name continued to rise, Anakin stood firm, the fire in his heart burning brighter than ever. The battle ahead would be brutal, but he knew one thing for certain.

They would fight. And they would win.

"We ride for Dover," Anakin roared, his voice resolute. "Now."

The men around him nodded, their faces fierce.

As they prepared to depart, Anakin glanced once more into the fire.

"We had peace," he whispered to himself and to the dry rose he had in his hand. But peace had never been within their grasp—not when kings and traitors played their games, and the price of freedom was paid in blood because… those who lived by the sword were forced to die by it.

In a dark chamber in France, Count Aulbry penned a letter to King Philip.

"The wolf of Scotland is in chains. The lion of England will soon be brought to heel. And with him, the kingdom will fall."

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

England, my heart, my blood, my fight,

In your fields I stand, your stars alight.

Through storm and strife, your lion roars,

Forever yours, on these sacred shores.

The sun hung low over the city of London, casting long shadows across the cobbled streets as the crowd gathered near Smithfield. The air was thick with tension, the kind that came before death. Anakin stood at the edge of the platform, his jaw clenched, his knuckles white as they gripped the pommel of his sword. His cloak fluttered in the breeze, but he felt no chill.

He felt only fury—and sorrow.

The wooden scaffold loomed in front of him, a grotesque stage for what was about to unfold. The man bound in chains, dragged before the jeering masses, was no common criminal. William Wallace walked with his head high, even as the guards forced him to his knees. His eyes—steely, defiant—locked briefly with Anakin’s.

In that moment, there was no war, no rebellion, no borders. There were only two men who had once fought side by side in mutual respect.

"Have you come to watch me die, Lord Jacob?" Wallace’s voice, though rough from days of torture, still held strength.

Anakin took a step closer. His voice was low, steady. "I came to bear witness."

A bitter smile twisted Wallace’s lips. "Aye, witness the cost of defying kings."

The executioner’s blade glinted in the fading light as he prepared his tools. The crowd murmured, hungry for blood, but Anakin heard nothing but the pounding of his own heart. He wanted to scream. To draw his sword and cut down every man who had brought Wallace to this moment.

But he stood still, his rage simmering beneath the surface. This was not his battle. Not today.

The execution began. First, they dragged Wallace to the rack, stretching his limbs until bones cracked. Wallace never screamed. He gritted his teeth, his eyes never leaving Anakin’s.

Each brutal act was a reminder of the cruelty of kings. Of how power twisted men into monsters.

When the executioner finally raised the axe for the final blow, Wallace turned his gaze to the sky, whispering something Anakin couldn’t hear. A prayer ? A curse ? 

Suddenly he arched his back and screamed one word. One tiny little word. Freedom… It didn’t matter for them. The axe came down with a sickening thud, and Wallace’s head rolled across the platform.

The crowd roared in approval.

Anakin stood frozen, his chest heaving, his hands trembling. His vision blurred, not from tears, but from sheer rage.

Anakin stood rigid in the dimly lit chamber, his heart still pounding from the execution of Wallace. The echo of the man's final breath seemed to reverberate in his mind as he faced the imposing figure of King Edward. The weight of the moment hung thick in the air, the finality of Wallace’s death adding fuel to the fire of Anakin’s fury. He had lost enough—his brothers, his friends, and now, a man he had once fought beside. The King had ordered it all, and Anakin was beginning to see just how far the rot went. The thought of what was to come next, the looming conflict with France, threatened to break him.

"Lord Skywalker," Edward began, his tone cold, unyielding. "I’ve been informed of your plans. You intend to march against the French, against their troops assembling on our shores."

Anakin’s eyes narrowed. His thoughts were still clouded with rage, but he knew this was the moment. He had to push forward, speak for the men who had no voice, who had bled on foreign soil for the ambitions of a king who seemed to forget their sacrifices.

"Yes," Anakin said firmly, his voice steady despite the anger rising within him. "I intend to protect this kingdom. We’ve been given no choice. The French have already begun to move against us—seven thousand troops now on our shores. They seek to destroy everything we have built."

Edward’s brow furrowed, and he gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "You will not march," he stated with a finality that made Anakin's blood run cold.

Anakin stared at the King, the words echoing in his mind. "I will not march?" he repeated slowly, the disbelief leaking into his tone. "My lord, you would have me stand idly by while our land is invaded? You would have me wait for your ‘diplomacy’ to work its magic?"

"Enough," Edward snapped. "You are a general, not a king. I’ve seen the reports. I have spoken with the ambassadors. This is not a moment for war, but for diplomacy. We must avoid needless bloodshed."

Anakin’s temper flared, and he took a step forward, his voice rising. "Diplomacy?" he repeated, each syllable dripping with contempt. "While they bring war to our doorstep, you speak of diplomacy? How many more men must die before you admit the truth?"

Edward’s face hardened, his eyes narrowing. "You speak out of turn, Skywalker. You forget your place."

"My place?" Anakin hissed, his fists clenching at his sides. "My place is to protect this kingdom. My place is to keep my people safe. I’ve bled for this crown, for England, and yet you stand here telling me to wait while they burn our villages, while they slaughter our people?"

"Enough!" Edward bellowed, his voice rising with fury. "You will obey my orders. You will not disobey me."

Anakin stepped even closer, his face inches from the King’s. His chest heaved with the weight of his frustration and anger. "You want me to follow your orders? You want me to stand down while France pulls the strings of this kingdom, while they use traitors like Count Aulbry to destroy us from within? No! I will not follow your orders."

Edward’s eyes blazed with fury, his jaw set like stone. "You dare defy me, Skywalker?"

"Defy you?" Anakin’s voice lowered, dangerously calm, as he stepped back, holding the King’s gaze with a fierce intensity. "Who is defying here ? You speak of loyalty to the crown, but it is you who are betraying this kingdom. It is you who would rather cling to diplomacy than protect the lives of your people."

"Watch your tongue," Edward warned, his voice cold.

"No," Anakin said, his eyes flashing with outrage. "I won’t. Who is wrong here, Your Majesty? The man who dares to fight for his people, or the one who sits idly by and lets our enemies walk all over us?"

The King’s face turned ashen with fury. "You have crossed a line, Anakin Skywalker. I declare you a traitor. A heretic."

Anakin stepped back, shaking his head, his lips curling into a bitter smile. "A heretic?" He barked out a laugh, his eyes filled with an unsettling rage. "Who’s the heretic right now, Your Majesty? The man who would rather see his country burn than admit the truth? The man who orders the death of his own for the sake of power and pride?"

The King stared at him, seething, his hand trembling with fury. "You will regret this defiance, Skywalker."

Anakin took a long, slow breath, his chest tightening with emotion. "I regret nothing. You’ve forgotten who we fight for, Edward. We fight for the people, not for your crown, not for your diplomacy. We fight for the ones who will bleed and die on these fields. And if that means defying you, then so be it."

There was a long silence, and for a moment, Anakin thought Edward might strike him. But the King simply turned on his heel, his face a mask of fury and contempt.

"You will pay for this," Edward spat, before storming out of the room.

Anakin stood there, his chest still heaving with the remnants of his rage. His fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. The taste of betrayal and disillusionment lingered on his tongue.

He didn’t care about the title of traitor. He didn’t care about being labeled a heretic. He cared only about the lives of the men who followed him, the men who trusted him. And he knew, deep down, that he could not—would not—turn his back on them now.

The King had made his choice. And so had Anakin.

From History and Greatness of the Sacred England, XIII century

Upon the fields where England's heart doth beat, A lion stands with eyes of golden flame. Through trials fierce, he knows no quick defeat, For glory’s fire forever marks his name.

His claws have torn through ages' shifting dust, A sovereign force that none can dare to tame. With courage bold, and in his strength, we trust, As England rises from the ash and flame.

O lion, fierce in England’s noble name, His legacy is more than war’s brief flame.

Anakin stood alone in the small chapel, the cold stone walls of the sacred space a silent witness to his turmoil. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the floor as he dropped to his knees, his heart a storm of conflicting emotions. The news of the French march had sent his thoughts into a whirlpool of doubt and fear. But above all, it was the thought of you—of your safety, your unborn child—that held him captive, both his greatest hope and his deepest sorrow.

He clasped his hands tightly together, his knuckles white with the intensity of his grip. His breath came slow, measured, as though trying to steady himself in the face of everything that was to come. The distant hum of life outside seemed far away, as though it had no place in this moment of solitude.

"Lord," Anakin muttered, his voice barely a whisper. "Grant me strength in this trial. Grant me the courage to fight for what is right, even when the path ahead is shrouded in darkness. I ask for your guidance in this battle—for my men, for my kingdom, and for the one I hold dearer than my own life."

His thoughts drifted to you, the woman he had come to love more deeply than he had ever thought possible. The image of you, pregnant with his child, filled him with both longing and dread. He had promised you his heart, but now, as he stood on the precipice of war, he feared he might never return. The thought of leaving you behind, alone with the weight of carrying their child, crushed him.

"I do not know what lies ahead, Lord," Anakin continued, his voice trembling slightly. "I do not know if I will come back from this battle. But if it is my time, I ask for your mercy. Protect her. Protect my child. Let them know my love, even if I am not there to tell them."

A single tear fell from his eye as he bowed his head, the weight of his words pressing down on him like a heavy stone. His thoughts turned inward, to the visions he had of their child, the little girl he dreamed of. His heart ached at the thought of her growing up without him, of the moments he would miss. He could almost see her face in his mind, her dark eyes staring up at him, her small hand reaching for him.

"If she is a girl," Anakin whispered, "let her know that her father fought with honor. That I would have given my life to protect her, to protect her mother." He paused, feeling the depth of the vow. "And I would do it again, without question. For them."

Rising to his feet, Anakin took a final look around the chapel. The peacefulness of the place contrasted sharply with the war that raged outside. He closed his eyes, letting the silence wash over him for a moment, then turned toward the door, knowing his time in this sanctuary was limited.

His heart heavy, he made his way through the corridors, his steps echoing in the quiet. He had one last thing to do—one final thing before he marched into the storm.

When he found you, you were sitting by the fire, your hands resting gently on the curve of your belly, as though you could already feel the child inside, as though you could sense his presence, even in his absence. The sight of you—so calm, so serene despite everything—warmed him in a way nothing else could.

He approached quietly, standing at the threshold of the room, his eyes lingering on you for a long moment. He wished he could memorize every detail of your face, the way your eyes looked when they met his, the softness of your features that brought him such peace.

You looked up at him, a soft smile curving your lips. "Anakin," you murmured, sensing the heaviness in his posture. "What is it?"

He swallowed hard, stepping closer to you. His chest felt tight, his words stuck in his throat. He didn't want to say goodbye, not now, not like this. But there was no other choice. The world had already made its decision.

He knelt beside you, his hands reaching out to take yours in his, as though grounding himself in the love you had given him. "I’m going to fight," he said, his voice low, filled with emotion. "I don’t know if I’ll come back, but I need you to know this—no matter what happens, you are everything to me. You and our child."

Your eyes softened, a mixture of understanding and sadness in them. "Anakin, don’t say that," you whispered, your fingers brushing gently over his. "You will come back. You must."

"I hope you're right," he said, his voice hoarse. "But if I don't—if I don't make it back—promise me you’ll keep our child safe. Tell her who I was. Let her know how much I love her. How much I love you."

He paused, his forehead resting against yours, the weight of his feelings pressing down on him. "I dream of her, you know. I dream of our little girl. I know she’ll be everything I’m not, full of strength and grace, everything I want her to be. I will die knowing I fought for her—for you."

You squeezed his hands, your voice trembling as you spoke. "I promise, Anakin. She will know."

His lips hovered over yours, and for a moment, all the noise, all the chaos of the world disappeared. It was just the two of you, a fleeting moment of peace in a sea of uncertainty. And then, as if the weight of the world had finally caught up with him, Anakin kissed you—softly, gently, a kiss filled with all the love, all the regrets, and all the hopes he had for the future.

When he pulled away, his eyes were filled with unshed tears. "I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Always."

“All men die one day…but few of them truly live. And I believe you made me belong in the second category, my rose” He kissed your knuckles and with that, he stood, his heart heavy with the knowledge that he might never see you again, but filled with the strength of knowing he had fought for something greater than himself.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

My Dearest Child,

Though you have not yet entered this world, I already see you in my dreams—your laughter, your joy, the light you will bring to this land. I write to you now, though you can’t yet read my words, for they are the thoughts of a father who will love you fiercely, who will protect you with everything he is.

I want you to know, before anything else, that you are a treasure. You will grow up in a kingdom filled with both honor and strife, but know this: your name will echo through the halls of England with pride, for you will be the daughter of a man who fought not just for glory, but for the future.

I may not always be there to guide you, but I will leave you with my love, my courage, and my hope. You are my legacy, and though the battles ahead are many, I will ensure you stand on the shoulders of giants—those who fought for what was right, no matter the cost.

May your heart always know peace, my dear. And if ever you are lost or afraid, remember that your father is with you, in every victory, every struggle, every step you take.

Yours, with all my heart, Your Father, Anakin Skywalker

The winds of Coventry Castle howled against the stone walls, an unrelenting reminder of the storm brewing both outside and within the hearts of all who resided there. The echoes of war and betrayal seemed to linger in the halls, casting a shadow over everything, from the flickering candles in the corridors to the tapestry-lined chambers where you'd once shared moments of peace with Anakin.

But peace was now a distant memory.

You stood at the edge of a cold stone balcony, staring out at the horizon where the battle was brewing. Anakin was out there—leading his men, fighting with everything in him, caught in a war that seemed to have no end. And yet, you had been torn away from him. Not by your own will, but by the very man who had once held your respect—the King.

He had come to you days ago, an icy smile on his face as he ordered you away. "To Ashmore," he had said, "You’ll be safe there, away from the bloodshed. Stay there, and we will protect you. Your presence is no longer necessary here."

It had taken everything in you not to lash out at him, but his cold gaze, the finality in his words, had rendered you mute. He had sent you here for his own reasons—out of spite, out of jealousy, and out of pure revenge. Anakin’s refusal to bow before his wishes, his unwavering dedication to what was right, had only made the king’s hatred grow. And now, he sought to remove you from the battlefield—to weaken Anakin by taking you away.

Your heart had broken when the soldiers came for you, their hands rough and insistent, pushing you into a carriage with little explanation. You could barely even process what was happening before you found yourself in Ashmore Castle, a place as cold and impersonal as the walls around you. The men who occupied it, the soldiers preparing for war, barely spared you a glance.

It felt wrong—being here, away from Anakin. Every fiber of your being screamed to be by his side, to stand with him as he fought for what was right. But you had been silenced, forced to accept this new fate. Alone, in a strange castle, the sounds of war echoing closer each day.

Ashmore was in preparation for the battle that would decide the course of England’s future. The air was thick with tension, and the clatter of soldiers preparing their weapons filled the corridors. You tried to find solace in your paintings, setting them up in the cold, bare rooms of the castle. It wasn’t much, but it gave you something to hold onto—a connection to the life you once had. But each brushstroke only reminded you of what you had lost.

And now, after days of waiting, the time had come.

The armies were ready. The battle was imminent. You had no choice but to remain here, hidden behind these walls, as Anakin fought against the forces that sought to tear everything apart.

But as you stood in the courtyard, gazing at the horizon where the battle would unfold, you felt a sinking sensation in your chest. You knew Anakin would be there, fighting like he always did—fighting for you, for the kingdom, for the future of your child. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, that fate was conspiring against you both.

Suddenly, the gates of the castle creaked open, and you turned just in time to see a familiar figure approach from the distance. Your heart skipped a beat.

Anakin.

But no, it couldn’t be. He was supposed to be far away, at the front. Yet, as you blinked, your breath caught in your throat. It was him—his silhouette unmistakable against the fading light of the day. The realization hit you like a tidal wave. He had come for you.

Tears sprang to your eyes as you stepped forward, but before you could reach him, something heavy settled on your chest. The sound of heavy footsteps approaching from behind—soldiers—pulled your attention away from him. You turned just in time to see the king’s men rushing toward you, grabbing your arms.

“No,” you whispered, struggling against them. “I need to go to him. Please, let me go!”

But the soldiers, their faces impassive, only tightened their grip. One of them spoke in a low voice, their tone flat. “The king’s orders.”

You fought harder, but it was no use. They dragged you away, back toward the castle gates, where you could see Anakin’s figure growing smaller in the distance. His eyes were locked on you now, and you could feel the desperation in his gaze. He was coming closer, trying to reach you, to fight for you. But you were being torn from him, just as you had feared.

“Anakin!” you shouted, your voice breaking as the soldiers continued to pull you further away. But the noise of the battle, the urgency of the war, drowned out your voice.

You fought against the soldiers with everything you had, but the more you struggled, the further you were taken from him. You didn’t know how much time had passed before you were finally thrust into the castle, the doors slamming shut behind you. You could still see his face in your mind, his eyes—wide, terrified. He had seen you, he knew you were here. And you knew he would stop at nothing to reach you.

You stood there, heart breaking, helpless in the face of everything happening around you. Your only thought was of Anakin—his safety, his future, and the future of your child.

And then, from within the walls, you heard the battle begin. The sound of metal clashing, the roar of men at war.

Anakin was out there. And you were trapped here, with no way to help him.

But you couldn’t shake the image of his eyes—those terrified, desperate eyes—seeing you in the distance.

The battle had begun.

From the Lays of General Anakin Skywalker, XIII century

And though the storm may come and go,

In England’s name, I stand aglow.

For she, my land, my blood, my kin,

Shall rise again, through thick and thin.