#i hate the feeling!! it spikes for a bit then goes away but it leaves me with a bad feeling!!! rhghghh!! it's cold! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

evieelyzabethh · 2 years ago

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Sugar and Spike

pairing(s): Spike x fem!reader

summary: after a night of patrol goes wrong, Spike starts noticing some changes in himself, mainly that Buffy's sweetest friend won't leave his mind and that she would never look at him the same if she knew what he wanted to do to her.

warnings: smut!!! a smidge of yandereness, kinda a sex or die fic, possessive spike, handjob, unprotected piv sex (wrap it before you tap it), oral (fem receiving), praise kink, biting/marking (mentions of blood), a little bit of spanking, overstimulation, riding, fingering, veryyy little plot, and I think thats about it.

In hindsight, they should've kept a better eye on him. It was an odd night of patrolling, the usual gaggle of vampires being a demon or two this time around. Big tall thing that appeared out of nowhere and left as soon as it came. Spike, always with little regard for the consequences of his actions, ran right in. Ran so hard he went right through the demon as it went into smoke. He breathed it in before going into a coughing fit, as if he could feel it in his nose and lungs, spreading in his chest like a vine that pulled everything impossible tight before releasing him like he was never in its grasp . Red flag one.

It fell on him like rain, some clumping into what looked like pink sparkles in his hair, on his jacket, his worn boots. He shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling away expecting to see it gunked together, but there was nothing there. It felt like his hair had been hit by my mist, slightly damp and cool. It seeped into his exposed skin, adhering itself into a pink sheen which also disappeared after only a few minutes. He remembered trying to brush it off, expecting it to feel wet but it was just slick. It was admittedly infuriating, especially since the feeling wouldn't go away. Red flag two.

“Buffy!” He shouted, rubbing his hands on his jeans as if it was going to wipe away the phantom feeling, but his complaints were met with apathy.

“There’s nothing there, Spike.” A groan bubbled in his chest.

“Astute observation, Slayer, but it feels like something’s there.” You were there beside him, something that would’ve gone unnoticed had he not been hit with your scent as your fingers brushed against his hand. He pulled away quickly out of instinct, not as subtle as he would’ve liked to because you noticed and scampered off in between Buffy and Giles. The distance between you and him got larger and the two of you talked about a mall trip you had planned and Willow was the only one to stick with him. She humored him, allowing him to shower at her place and taking a sample of skin only to find nothing. No residue, nothing abnormal, nothing had changed at all. Red flag three.

But he was sure it was fine. Nothing had really changed. You had been a bit cautious though.

You were prone to worrying, and he couldn't blame you. There was a lot to worry about when your best friends hunted demons and one of them was a literal creature of the night. You worried about Buffy so much he genuinely feared you would collapse from all the stress you put yourself under. Pursuing a nursing degree so they could avoid hospital visits unless absolutely necessary because none of you had the money. Having him train you in basic self-defense because you hated feeling like dead weight. You took up Latin and all of the other dead languages in those old dusty books just so you could be useful. You tied yourself in knots just to be sweet. God, you were so sweet. Even to your own detriment, like pure sugar that was going to rot his teeth eventually.

The more time you spent together, the more the rot seemed to take his brain than his teeth. His mouth never got anywhere near you; Buffy made sure of that. He wished he could say it was because she was babying you too much, that you were also tired of Buffy making Spike seem like the biggest mistake you could ever make. To be fair, he hardly knew you. He knew of you; he knew of the pink wardrobe and the fluffy socks and the pretty shoes. He knew of you as Buffy's cute neighbor who stopped by so often that you might as well live with them. You weren't being a baby, you were being cautious, even more now. He almost wished you didn't believe him as much as you did, maybe you'd keep visiting him. He hadn't seen you in days and it was really starting to take a toll on him. His leg bounced and he got in the bad habit of biting his nails, which was starting to get annoying with how often he had to repaint them.

If you were here, you would repaint them. You would sit your pretty self on his busted couch, and you'd have a little bag with you with all your pins and charms that jingled like the earrings that dangle from your ears. In your bag would be at least three shades of pink, a range of blacks and greys, and a wild card or two, maybe a blue or a green. You'd let him pick his color, despite knowing he always went for black. You asked anyway, just in case he decided to go with pink just to humor you. Had you walked through right now, he would've obliged. He would've done anything you asked him too. It wasn't even that he was lonely, but it was getting to suffocate in here. It was getting hot, like a fire was spreading. Each breath felt smoke filled, his skin was on fire, his skin was getting damp, like the dust had fallen again. His hand was shaky as he put a cigarette between his lips and lit it, surely the smell would break him out of what had to be a daze.

If you were here, you'd make a joke about him needing to air the place out. He'd probably open the door and call that enough air, but he liked his privacy, and he didn't like the idea of anyone just being able to waltz right in. You would want to make a joke about no one wanting to visit him, but you’d bite your tongue at the fear of being too harsh. You always got that look in your eye when you thought something that could be misconstrued as mean. You took your lip into your teeth and your pretty eyelashes flitted and you looked away. He thought about what it would be like to bite your lips, wanting to see what they looked like, all red and even prettier than they were before. Just a taste, that's all he wanted, a taste.

He got up to open up the door only for that phantom feeling to return. All over his body, it felt like he had stepped out into the sun, like every molecule that made up his body was vibrating and mere seconds from combusting. His breathing got ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly and his brain going into overdrive. He squeezed his eyes shut as if it would make it go away, but even from behind his eyelids, you were there. The idea of you, your smile, your laughter, fuck the very way you said his name. It sounded so nice coming from you.

The way you said it when he got injured in a fight when you would patch up his wounds and have a bag of blood for him to replace what he lost. “Spike.” you would say. Like he should’ve known better than to just throw himself into danger. Not even bothering to consider the possibility that he did it to look heroic, or maybe in your care with your hands over his chest. There’s no reason for him to be this beaten and bruised from some baby vamp; William the Bloody. Spike? He had pride, but not as much as Angelus. It was easily quenched by the fact that he was in no way losing with your delicate hands tracing over faded scars on his chest and feeding him blood while they were just dust.

“Spike.” Buffy would say, her tone laced with less concern and more disapproval. She knew something was up. After all they had gone through together, vampires should’ve been nothing for him. He had to space out his “fuck ups” just to get her off his back, just to get her voice out of his head. She didn’t say his name like you did.

There wasn’t much better than how you said his name when it was just the two of you. Being together in his crypt, sometimes in your own bedroom which you had invited him into much to Buffy’s chagrin. “It’s Spike,” you had said, “how many times have we saved the world with him? I think he’s earned it.” It sent shivers down his spine. He would’ve saved the world so much sooner if it meant being able to be in your space. If it meant getting to hear you say his name through fits of laughter, trying to regain your breath while still finding enough to utter his name. “Spike.” you said, your hand over his while you giggled. He felt that heat now, felt the heat of all your touches culminating right now. All over his skin, tensing his muscles, holding his chest as he fought for breath himself.

While he had the chance, he should’ve raided your underwear drawer. Now he was left to fist his dick with just the memory of you. You wouldn’t notice a pair or two gone, surely you wouldn’t. It was the type of small thing you would overlook because really what is a pair or two. You wouldn’t want him to be in pain, hearing his situation now, you’d feel like it was all your fault. The least you could spare was a pair of your prettiest panties for him to wrap around his cock while he fisted himself to the thought of you and how you would say his name now.

The closest he’d gotten would be after a big battle. You had taken a beating, by the time you had gotten to a safe space you had lost a dangerous amount of blood, but the sounds that came out of your mouth were so delicious. And you trusted him to carry you to safety, your bloody hand wrapping itself around his bicep to maintain some tether to consciousness. “Spike.” your voice dripping with pain, but even that wasn’t enough to mask how pretty you sounded. He felt bad then for how hard it got him, but there is such a thin line between pain and pleasure. The only difference now would be circumstance, and he would never hurt you. This would be good for you, the both of you, you just had to let him. You just had to say his name.

“Spike?” In that moment, he knew there had to be some high power looking out for him when he heard your voice. Dream-like, and soft, like the wind could have blown it out and away from your lips. “Spike?!” you said again. He couldn’t tell if it was his shred of restraint or his body’s unwillingness to listen to his brain that kept him glued to his couch.

“Now really isn’t a good time, love.” He tried to keep his voice level, he really did, but it was too much. And you weren’t stupid, he heard the heels of your shoes against the hard floor and smelt you before he even saw you. And fuck you smelt heavenly.

“Are you okay? What happened-” You looked like you had a halo above your head, or maybe he was much further gone than he had thought. You cut yourself off in shock. When you had walked in, you hadn’t expected to catch Spike with his hands down his pants.

“You know what, I’m just gonna go a-and come back later.” You tried to smile in an attempt to make the situation less awkward than it needed to be, but he grabbed you by your wrist.

“Wait-I just need-fuck. I just need you to stay for a bit. I don’t feel good.” Your eyes met and you saw the sheen of what you assumed to be sweat covering his chest and face. His pupils blown out, his hair out of place, his labored breathing, like he couldn’t catch his breath. Oddly enough, the sheen had a pink tinge, and despite the fact that his fangs were protruding, his vampire face hadn’t appeared. You reached out to touch his forehead to surprisingly find a temperature. He groaned at the contact, both wanting to melt into your skin and like it physically pained him.

“What happened?” He declined the answer, instead pushing his head more into the palm of your hand, tipping his head to sniff the inside of your wrist. “What are you doing?” You tried to pull away and put some distance in between the two of you, but he pulled you back, even closer than before.

“You smell so good.” He nosed his way past your wrist and up your arm till he made it to your collarbone, trying to find where he could hear your blood pump the loudest. “Stop it!” you pushed against him as soon as you felt the tip of his fangs attempting to break skin. To both of your surprise, he let you. It looked like it pained him to do so, his eyes screwed shut and his hand gripping the arm of his couch until the wood snapped.

“If this is about the demon thing, I’m gonna go get Willow, okay? You just need to stay right here.” The authority you had laced in your voice was cute.

“Just stay here with me, yeah? There’s no need to get Willow. We don’t need Willow.” His voice had dropped an octave, his pupils blown and his brain damn near empty. Anything went in one ear then out the other as he held your hands in his, staring through you as if daring you to defy him.

“Spike, you aren’t well.” You had tried to reason, but all he heard was that you weren’t saying no because you didn’t want this. You were concerned for his well being, even when he had you pinned down and his teeth at your neck, each breath moving you closer to him drawing blood, you were saying no because you were concerned he didn’t want this. You somehow thought he didn’t want you.

“I’ve never felt better, baby.”, he said-practically fucking growled. Hell if he wanted you, he needed you. He pressed himself into you, his hands grabbing at anything he could to ground himself, his left at the base of your scalp and his right bunching the fabric of your skirt in his hands. He breathed into your neck, nipping and nicking at bare skin then soothing it with his tongue and kisses. He worked himself up over you, taking and taking until he was drunk, his tongue lolled out as he put his head on your chest.“Can I fuck you.”

You had been caught in a daze yourself, his words had barely registered. You had more sense than he did at this point, finding enough resolve to shake your head. “Please.” he begged, groaning it out through clenched teeth. “I need you to make it feel better, please God just make it feel better.” He had pushed his hips into your hand, his weeping cock leaking onto you, pleading with you to touch it. “I’ll make it good for you, I swear, just be my sweet girl, yeah? Just make it better.”

You experimentally rubbed the tip, and he whimpered. His hand grabbing your wrist so fast a look of shock flashed across his face. You took that as a sign to pull away but he put your hand back around him, pushing your hand up and down his base. “Too much too quick, love.”

Any hesitancy you had was swallowed as he smashed his lips into yours. It was urgent and quick, almost bruising how hard he kissed and held you as if you were going to disappear at any point. He tugged at a handful of hair, catching you in a moan that he used to force tongue into your mouth, sucking it as you pumped his dick at a painfully slow pace.

His kisses made you breathless, and it was then you realized that he likely forgot in his haze that you actually needed air. He moaned into your lips, the sound spreading throughout your body and shaking you to your core. It wasn’t lost on him how damp your underwear had gotten, had he had the strength to pull away to touch you he would, but the mere seconds his skin would be off yours was enough of a deterrent to keep him in place.

You tried to move away, but his hand kept you in place. “Don’t move.”, he rushed it out, a tone that otherwise would’ve been more commanding had he not been weak himself. “Keep going.” His hips bucked and stuttered, his movements becoming erratic the more faint your touches became. Like it was a warning; let me up for air and I’ll keep touching you. He whined at the thought of you pulling away. That wasn’t fair.

His lips parted from yours, settling for the corner of your mouth before moving to your jawline to your neck, then just under your ear. You gasped for breath, you numb with the ecstasy of air and the feeling of his rushed kisses. He was getting close. Your hand was covered in his sticky pre-cum, his cock even more so as your hand moved alone over him, his own hand now grabbing at your shirt at the feeling. You squeezed at the bass, a motion he clearly enjoyed with how his body tensed up. A series of obscenities flowed from his pretty lips as he came, spurts of his cum getting over your pretty pink skirt, an image Spike would get himself off to later.

You didn’t get long to sit in what just happened when he was on you again, laying you on your back and ripping your skirt clean off. You moaned something that sounded like “My skirt!”, but neither one of you were really worried about it.

His lithe fingers were quick, rubbing you through the fabric of your panties, while he kissed up to where you wanted him excruciatingly slow. His hands rubbed and teased at the soft skin of your thighs, marking bruises everywhere he went.

He moaned into you, sniffing you once again, before finding a place he wanted to dig his fangs into. Maybe it was how delicately he stuck in his teeth, maybe it was the lust blown fervor, but it didn’t hurt as much as you anticipated. In fact, you moaned at the intrusion, unable to know what to do with yourself as he sucked and lapped up the blood he had drawn. Your fingers wove into his hair, as if he could be pulled any closer to you than he already was. “You taste so good. So good.” And he let you know as such. The obscene noises that flew from the both of you, the slurping and whines, the pop of his lips as he traveled from one spot to another. But that’s not how he intended to eat you whole.

You were unbelievably wet, soaking through your panties and even Spikes fingers before he took pity on you and decided to pull them aside and plant his fingers into you. Now, you weren’t a virgin, but you had never had sex that felt as good as this. Never had someone in you that had hundreds of years of practice beforehand.

“You’re doing so good, Sweet Girl. So good, can’t get enough of you.” What was an attempt to calm your nerves, had you keening and over the moon, the praise bringing tears to your eyes as you ground yourself in his hand. That didn’t move him along any quicker, his tongue still collecting anything you would give him like he hadn’t been fed in years.

“Spike!” You called out, which finally seemed to get his attention. He saw the glass-like look your eyes had taken and the pout on your face. You looked like you were about to cry. Poor thing, so desperate. He said he’d take care of you, make you feel good. No point in denying the inevitable.

You whined when he pulled out of you just to choke when he began to devour you. His nose at your clit and his tongue plunging into. “Thank you.” he muttered into you, like this was some divine gift to him. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” The combination of his praise and how good he was giving it to you made that coil in your belly tighten and tighten until it threatened to snap. And he just kept going. Completely in his own world, the only thoughts in his mind being about you, how you smelled, how you tasted, god you were so good to him. Letting him eat you out like this, helping him like this. He shouldn’t have expected any less from his girl. His sweet girl. No one else's, you couldn’t be anyone else's after this. His grip tightened around your thighs at the very thought. “Mine.” he said, the vibrations hitting your core deliciously. “Mine.”

“Yours Spike, all yours.” He hummed in approval, inserting two fingers back into you while he kept up his electric pace. He held your hand as it began to be too much, your back arching off the couch and your thighs closing around his head as he just kept going. You called his name as you came, high and higher until it became too heavy on your mouth and you couldn’t say anything at all. The grip you had on his hand had loosened, but he hadn’t let up. He still rambled into you, “Again. Again. Again. Please.”

You didn’t know if your hips were bucking into him or try to wiggle away from him. Either way, both attempts were unsuccessful. With how hard he pulled on your panties they had snapped and had been thrown to the side for the simple crime of being in his way. His forearm lay on your hip keeping you in place. Your hand still laid in his, him squeezing it as if it was any comfort from the inescapable feeling of his tongue licking your thoroughly soaked pussy.

Your toes curled in your frilly socks as you came again on his tongue, and you foolishly expected that to be enough. You would’ve asked him to stop if you could pant out anything more than whines. You would’ve pushed him away if you could manage anything more than weak taps on his forearm. “No more.” you whispered out. “Can’t.” His fingers rubbed your hand as some form of encouragement.

“Yes you can, love.” You shook your head weakly, scooting your hips back only for him to swiftly smack your pussy. You preened on the contact, and he drank in the arousal that gushed out just from that. “My sweet girl isn’t gonna disappoint me, is she? She’s gonna make me all better, isn’t that right?” Your brain was so fogged out you couldn’t even produce a response. You just groaned and squirmed, unable to brace for impact when he smacked you again.

“Spike!” You cried out, but he didn’t care. Heknew you were feeling good from how much you gushed while he tongue fucked your cunt. It was just a bit too much for you right now. You would feel better, you just needed to let go some more. He tried to relax you, tried rubbing mindless shapes on your skin to calm you down as he worked you through your third orgasm, but you just heaved. Your tits bounced with how heavily you breathed, and yet after all of that, he still didn’t feel better. Why didn’t he feel better?

Despite the relief that came from him pausing his abuse, you still whined as he sat up from behind your legs. With your taste still on his tongue, he kissed you. You sighed into him, the feeling of his large hands moving from your hip to under your shirt to touch your tummy and rip your bra in half. You didn’t even notice him moving you into his lap and setting your thighs on either side of him so you straddled him. He thumbed your nipples, pinching and rubbing over them while he relished in the feeling of you cunt so close to his dick.

You didn’t seem to catch on either as he slid in between your folds, too lost of him finally kissing you again. You moaned into this kiss as his fingers dipped to toy with your clit before he whispered in your ear. “Just one more.”

In one fluid motion, he slipped his dick into his cunt, catching you as your limbs went weak. He was so big you felt your eyes water with the pressure of him being in you. You could tell he was struggling to stay still, but the haze had worn off enough for him to regain some sense. He still waited eagerly for you to adjust, brushing the fallen tears from your eyes and kissing your checks to make it all better.

“Too big. It’s too big.” You stuttered. It was all you could manage to mutter out. He cooed at you, his dick growing harder than he thought possible at the feeling of it all and the praise.

“I was made for you, Pretty Girl, you can take it.” You yelped as he jerked his hips into yours, but he just couldn’t help it. You were so pretty like this, all fucked out and dumb. Not a thought behind those eyes of yours and the only thoughts he was capable of was you. How warm you were, how wet you were, how tight you were. You were squeezing him and milking him dry and as much as he tried he just couldn’t stop him self from fucking into you.

“I’m sorry.” and he meant it. You weren’t ready and he couldn’t even tell if he was ready, his body had a mind of his own and he felt himself just slipping into the feeling of being enveloped by you. “Just too good. You’re too good. My good girl. You’re gonna take all I give you, aren’t you, love? You gonna be my sweet girl and take it?” His voice was breathy and low and impossibly hot.

All you could manage was a soft ‘mhm’ as you took him in. It wasn’t like you had any other choice as you bounced on his cock, gripping at his chest and taking in each moan you earned as you drew blood from your scratches.

You felt every inch of him, felt the tip of his dick hit your cervix and kept pounding at it like it was his job; like he would die if he didn’t. You can’t do anything but take it as you screw your eyes shut and just try to breathe as everything in your body fights to hold on to some feeling. It was impossible to think, not when Spike’s hands were all over you and his touch was so incredibly hot. Even stranger, a pink glow began to emanate from him, that or you were closer to passing out than you originally thought. .

He kept you close to his chest as you both chased your impending highs together, your lips meeting in the middle as you moaned and sighed into each other's mouths and he was a goner, rambling like a mad man in your ear, thanking you endlessly for something he couldn’t put his hands on. Maybe it was your release, that you felt coming like a truck. He squeezed at the fat of your hips, pulling you even closer until neither one of you could tell where the other started and ended and you came like that, so close that you were almost suffocating, but a different kind from before.

He came not long after you, his dick still inside spurting his cum inside you and keeping it in there with little intention of coming out any time soon. That pink glow had faded from before, fading away until there was nothing there and the slight pink tinge from before was gone too. His eyes drooped a bit, his blue irises that you hadn’t realized you had missed finally reappeared, his pupils returning to normal and his fangs retracting.

He hung his head in your neck and you felt his temperature drop a bit, no longer boiling hot. He refused to move his head from his spot though. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was ashamed of what just happened.

After the both of you had a moment to catch your breaths, he removed himself from inside you, stalking off to find something to wear now that your outfit was completely ruined. He even had the decency to turn around while you changed, granted he had a hard time looking at you anyway.

“You’re gonna wanna deep clean that couch.” You said to break the silence. You were surprised you got a chuckle out of him.

“Yeah. I don’t normally do this sort of thing on there.” Another moment of silence passed between the two of you.

“You know, we can go back to my place and I can fix your nails. I can tell you’ve been biting at them.” He didn’t need to be told twice either. The place still stunk of sex and his head was feeling clearer than it had in days, he couldn’t stand to be there right now.

“About all of this…you won’t tell Buffy, right?” You giggled.

“Not if you don’t.” And that was more than enough for him.

#btvs #btvs imagine #btvs x reader #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction #buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #spike btvs x reader #spike btvs imagine #spike btvs fanfiction #spike x reader #spike btvs #spike smut #spike btvs smut #btvs smut #buffy the vampire slayer smut

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madmutts · 1 year ago

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Facing Fears: Lapse Arc.

︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.

Angelo sniffles and huffs to himself as he sits just outside the lair. He feels shame for crying yet again, but he simply couldn't hold it in. With his hoodie draped over his lap, he scrubs away tears with a sleeve. The turtle grumbles to himself, "Just.. jus go in…"

He has to go home eventually. His brothers will find out whether he wants them to or not… Angelo takes a deep, shaky breath, then stands up on wobbly legs. He uses the wall to support himself, dragging his feet as he steps through the entryway to the lair. It's quiet… Angelo can feel anxiety spike inside his chest.

He barely makes it halfway to his train car when he hears a voice from behind, making him freeze.

"Angie! Where've you been?" It's Lee. And he doesn't sound happy… Angelo's hands shake. "You were supposed to text one of us every hour, you-"

The box turtle holds his breath when Lee cuts himself off. He can feel him step closer, and Angelo shrinks in on himself a little, still not having turned to face his brother.

"Mikey… Why do you smell like that..?"

When the younger turtle finally takes in air, it's shaky. He blinks away the sting of tears, only turning further away from Lee. "I.. I don.. know wh. what you're.. you're talkin about…"

"Mikey."

Lee's stern tone makes Angelo tense further, and he whimpers, those tears blurring his vision. It's only when his older brother is just a step away that he speaks again, his voice small and timid. "I'm sorry… I don't-.. I d-d-..."

The hand not gripping his hoodie and mask raises to his face, covering his eyes as he grimaces. He hates crying so much like this… He feels childish.

Angelo flinches when a hand lands on his shell, and he looks up at Lee, whose face holds a… worried expression. Not mad. Just.. concerned. And that makes Angelo cry harder. Why isn't he mad? He should be very mad.

"Oh, Angie…" Lee mutters, brows creasing and arm going around his little brother to pull him against his plastron. He leans down to rest his beak against Angelo's head. The younger turtle hiccups and whines, crying against his brother's stupid shirt.

"I'm sorry… I'm-.. I tried. I was- they-" Angelo lets out a small irritated groan, face scrunched up. Why is it so fucking hard to just talk? "I tried. so hard. n-not to.. I- hh.."

Lee gently shushes him, rubbing his hand along the younger turtle's shell. "Slow down, little brother… Take it easy."

The box turtle clings tightly to his older brother, his hoodie and mask abandoned on the subway floor. "I didn't want to- I-.. I don't wanna.. b-be like this anymore.. I-"

With a quiet shush, the slider nuzzles his beak against Angelo's head. "I know. I know, Angie…"

Muffled hiccups and sobs leave the smaller turtle, his babbling quieted by the hand on his shell and soft words from his brother.

There's a long moment of Lee just holding Angelo, standing in the middle of the lair. But eventually, Lee leans away a bit to look down at the box turtle. "Hey.. let's get you to bed, ok? We can.. talk about this later. When you're not… like this."

Angelo just sniffles, nodding against Lee's chest. The slider bends down to pick up that orange hoodie, then gives Angelo a pat on the shell. He guides his wobbly brother to his train car, trying to be as gentle as he can as he nudges Angelo into bed. The box turtle feels so heavy with exhaustion, sighing as he finally lays down under his soft sheets.

Lee tucks his little brother in. As he goes to stand, he feels a tug on his shirt. "Stay.. please.."

He gives Angelo a small nod, and sits back down at the edge of his bed. "Yeah.. ok."

He watches as Angelo easily gets comfortable and very quickly falls asleep. After a long moment of silence, he looks over at the doorway, seeing their other two brothers standing there. Tello has his arms crossed, and Raphie needs to bend over to even see inside. They all share an expression.

"...We can talk in the kitchen."

#narrator txt #hea writing #hea au #arc: lapse #i was gonna draw something for this but i do not have the spoons for it GDHJFJ maybe later #UPDATE KAY DREW SOMETHING FOR ME INSTEAD HDHSSGDHDHHDHD #CRYING EMOJI #plot pin.

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glass-noodle · 1 year ago

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What would a role reversed merman AU scenario be like? And most impotant, what kind of fish species would Hank be? (Not meant as a drawing request or super elaborate essay or anything, I just love reading your ideas ✨️)

I know you said this isn't a drawing/essay request but HOW COULD I RESIST!!!

I am not a fish expert but I like to think of Hank being either a dwarf gourami (for that good ol' in-game symbolism hehe) or a tiger shark, because stripes and big teeth and bad temper. Or maybe he could be some sort of tropical fish that's super vibrant and colourful, yet also deadly (poisonous fin spikes?). Marine biologists please weigh in!!!

Some half-formed unofficial notes:

Hank is more outwardly aggressive towards Kamski and the scientists in comparison to Connor’s cold-shoulder approach. They went through their entire tranquilizer supply in the first few months just to get a handle on the roaring, thrashing beast of a merman, and he’s caused more than a few major injuries amongst their team. Just like Connor, he bares his teeth and resists every time they come to take him for experiments; they have to sedate him from a greater distance and with a much heavier dose than they use for Connor, however.

Hank is a little less malnourished than Connor, but only because he doesn't refuse to eat. He's still thinner and weaker than he would be normally

Connor works the night shift. Not sure if it’s because he has another job during the daytime or if he’s going to school, but either way he manages to catch up on sleep during his breaks. He sacrifices this sleep once he and Hank start growing closer, however.

Hank takes much longer to warm up to Connor than the reverse. He snarls and snaps his teeth whenever Connor gets too close; it takes weeks for Connor to be able to approach the edge of the tank. He has to leave the fresh fish on the deck and back away before Hank will even look at it, ice-blue eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Connor is a bit more hesitant to get close to Hank, but that's only because he's always taken his job seriously and he doesn't like breaking the rules. He can't help but stare in awe whenever the large merman swims by, however, vibrant fins flashing and his muscled body cutting powerfully through the water. It's only when Connor starts noticing the scientists taking Hank away - and his glimpses of Hank's violent resistance - that his curiosity and empathy override his sense of obedience and his desire to make a good first impression.

Because Hank doesn't talk, Connor is given even more of an opportunity than usual to run his mouth. He blabbers away, asking question after question as if Hank could answer, sometimes philosophizing and sometimes talking about nothing at all. Hank tries to tune him out as he eats, but the human is annoyingly persistent. Eventually he grows used to the babble, but only after he starts begrudgingly warming up to the kid.

Because Connor talks so damn much, it's alarming when he goes quiet. Hank initiates contact for the first time by taking off his glasses when he has his breakdown. It's the first time Hank has ever been so close to him.

I think that Hank would still have lost Cole when he was a baby mer; possibly to humans and their trapping practices, giving him even more of a reason to hate them. I'm torn on what Connor's backstory should be, though. Perhaps he lost Nines (to an ocean storm?)? Or maybe it’s post-fight with Amanda and he’s feeling directionless in life, suffocating under the weight of his family’s expectations and feeling like he’s a burden and a disappointment despite everything that he’s achieved? Maybe it’s just a good ol’ panic attack because I love forcing anxiety onto human!Connor (no I’m not projecting what do u mean)

Hank's power and girth take on a whole new light after they’ve grown close. Connor is more distracted during their time together, his stream of chatter faltering uncharacteristically whenever Hank shifts a certain way or rips into a fish easily with his powerful jaws. He swallows when he imagines the full strength of the merman pressing him down against the deck, of Hank dragging him into the water and grazing those razor-sharp teeth along his skin, tail wrapped around his body like a serpent and trapping him in place.

Hank could hold the skinny human down with one hand. He knows he could. He imagines wide dark eyes staring up at him, skin flushed prettily and neat brown hair dripping, wordless for once in his life, and nearly loses his self-control. If they were both mermen, he'd be courting the kid to the ends of the ocean. Or...maybe Connor would be the one wooing him. He's certainly brought him enough fish and stared at his chest and arms enough that any merperson worth their salt would consider it mate-like behaviour. It's a weird cognitive dissonance to be feeling this way about a human, but Connor is — Connor is different. Hank likes Connor; he likes him so much that it's stupid.

#noodle talk #lab merman au #hankcon #dbh #detroit become human #hank x connor #dbh fanart #detroit become human fanart #dbh connor #dbh hank #mermay #glass art #noodle art #i toyed with the idea of making Connor one of the scientists but #that’s a whole other au I think :)#thank you so much for your question I have so many thoughts and I’m glad you like reading about them 😭

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sheisaquarius-blog · 5 months ago

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hi! for anthony’s day can you do something with ianthony getting together with jealous!anthony? btw i love your fics you’re so talented!!!

OH BOY CAN I, I LOVE JEALOUS ANTHONY!!! i'm sure you wanted something sweet and fluffy, but i am on my usual bullshit and made it long and angsty OTL sorry!!! i hope it's still an enjoyable read! and it ends happy!

ps- sorry i'm late! if you sent me an anthony's day prompt and i haven't posted it yet, you WILL see it! i just over estimated how fast i can write, but i'm going to fill each and every one!

Anthony thinks a lot. Not that other people don’t, he just suspects that they have an easier time turning off the faucet of thoughts, or at least letting it fade into the white noise of their minds. Anthony has trouble with that. A lot of trouble. Every one of his thoughts is loud and demanding and takes up the limited space he has in his brain. Most of the time it doesn’t bother him because he’s learned to make peace with a lot of it. He’s learned to acknowledge those thoughts for what they are and control them, channel them. Pain and anxiety were hard, but he’s managed. He has outlets, mantras, things that keep him firmly in reality when those thoughts start to overwhelm his mind and make him burn from the inside out.

His real problem is jealousy. Its roots are wrapped so deep in his bones he’d need to pull back the layers of calcium to extract the tendrils from his marrow where they nestle and feed off him. Pain and anxiety are water, they rain on him, he could drown in them if he isn’t careful, but in the end, they are things that pour over him. He fears his jealousy has always grown out of him, is intrinsic to him.

He hides it well for most of his life. Not so well that no one notices, but well enough they think it’s just normal, average jealousy. A bit childish, maybe, but not the more sinister, dark, suffocating thing that’s truly inside him.

As he grows, he manages it well enough to not make it other people’s problems (most of the time), but it eats away at him in a way he can’t control.

Not everything spikes it. He doesn’t mind sharing the spotlight—in fact he greatly prefers it. He isn’t bothered by friends’ accomplishments—those are their own.

What does bother him is singular attention. That’s the best way he knows how to put it. For an audience, Anthony would much rather be a part of something than the whole; he built two channels out of that. Smosh isn’t a one man show, and interviews don’t work very well with just one person, but when it comes to being the most important thing to one single person, Anthony is not particularly willing to share.

He's jealous in relationships, he knows that. It’s caused plenty of arguments. It worries him, he doesn’t want to be toxic, but he needs to be the most important thing to them. He can feel himself choking on his jealousy when things change and he isn’t that precious thing anymore. It’s a slow death he suffers through each time.

Apparently, that goes double for business partners because Anthony truly, genuinely worried he was going to suffocate when Anthony asked Ian to leave with him and he didn’t. His body felt hollow and burned through, like everything important in him was drained.

He’s gotten marginally better in their years apart. He doesn’t think he’s any less jealous, but he lets his flares bounce back against himself rather than out at other people.

Damn if it doesn’t catch him off guard every once in a while, though, which is how Anthony ends up breathing through his teeth at a dark, loud, too-cool party, watching Ian laugh at someone’s joke across the room as some guy clasps his shoulder to keep from doubling over.

Anthony already hates parties. It’s a manageable hate, but he does. This, though—watching Ian laugh and smile and talk and treasure someone else makes that jealousy rip through him, choking him by the throat like a fucked-up willow is trying to grow out of there. He wants to leave, except he doesn’t, because then he has to leave Ian and, well, he did that once already. He isn’t sure he’ll get a third chance. Ian does catch his eye, and there’s something of a balm for that awful thing inside him. It’s blue eyes that see him. He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until Ian crosses the dark room towards him.

“Hey,” Ian says. “You ready to go?”

Anthony shakes his head. He can’t make himself say the word ‘no,’ it’s too big of a lie, but he can deal with this for Ian’s sake. He has Ian’s attention right now, so he could endure a lot worse to keep it.

Ian takes a sip of his drink without letting his eyes leave Anthony, bright blue in this dark room. “Well, I think I’m done, but we can hang here if you want, I guess.” Anthony can’t lie, but he’s jealous. Ian isn’t jealous, but he can lie. Like a snake eating its own tail, chasing itself in circles.

“You don’t have to be done,” Anthony says. His eyes flicker to that guy Anthony definitely knows of but can’t name, who’s staring at Ian across the way, a little longing and a little awestruck. He doesn’t blame him, but he doesn’t forgive him either. “But maybe we should get some air?” he suggests.

Ian nods. “Sure.”

They wander outside together, past loud conversation and louder music, into the much lighter LA night air. A breeze rustles through the patio and it makes Anthony aware of how warm he was inside, catching on the light sheen of sweat on his skin. Ian sighs and leans against the side of the house-slash-mansion. It’s quiet between them, but Anthony likes it, until those gnarled fingers dig into him, and he starts to wonder: is Ian here with him or still back inside?

“Who was that?” he asks casually.

Ian rubs under the bridge of his glasses. “Theo? I dunno, I guess he’s, like, a food guy or something. I met him guesting on a podcast last year.”

“Cool,” Anthony says. “Yeah, I was surprised he remembered me.” Anthony nods. He exhales through his nose, but he doesn’t feel like he’s breathing.

Ian shrugs. “We really can go if you want. I’m pretty much done here.”

“Pretty much?” Anthony asks before he can stop himself.

Ian gives him a look. Anthony thinks he should be able to read it, there’s something so direct in Ian’s gaze. “Just a figure of speech. C’mon, let’s just go.”

Anthony can’t help himself; this is where his jealousy is layered too deep, this is his instinct, his nature. “You wanna say bye to Theo first?”

“No,” Ian says without a second thought or a moment of hesitation, like Anthony wasn’t just the brattiest, pettiest person he knows. “He’s fine without me, Anthony.”

“He didn’t look fine when you left.”

“Ok, fine. Well, I don’t care what he looked like. Enough, Anthony. I’m right here.”

Anthony doesn’t say anything. He can still taste that bitter blackness on his tongue.

Ian rolls his eyes. “Your dramatic ass is gonna be the end of me one day,” he mutters, more to himself than anything, then he grabs Anthony’s shirt and pulls him in.

That’s how Anthony ends up kissing Ian for the first time against cool stone at a party he doesn’t want to be at because he can’t keep his jealousy in check. Anthony is probably always going to be jealous, always going to have that bitter, rotten ugliness in there, always going to have to fight it. But maybe it was more to do with missing something he needed. Maybe he’s been trying to feed something that doesn’t want him, or maybe Ian just makes it gentler. Either way, as they break apart, that sharp, craving ache inside Anthony’s bones eases just a bit.

“Dumbass,” Ian smirks, only inches from his face, eyes wandering all over his face like he can’t get enough of Anthony’s stupefied expression.

Anthony swallows, and it tastes like Ian. The beast in his stomach tears into it hungrily, finally sated.

“So, two options,” Ian says. “We leave right now, just bolt for the car. Or,” he takes Anthony’s hand in his, “we go say goodbye to Theo together.”

Anthony can barely process what Ian’s saying, there’s so much room to breathe in his chest, things feel so easy, like all his bones have snapped into alignment. He tries, though, and Ian is patient for him. Before he answers, he kisses Ian again, feels him shift against the side of the house to get closer, to touch more of him, like he wants to be near that deep, ugly, choking jealousy.

“Fuck Theo,” Anthony breathes when they part.

Ian shakes his head. “Nah. Just you.” Anthony laughs. “Okay,” he agrees, leaning in for one more kiss. “Okay.”

#my writing #smosh #smosh fic #ask #anthony's day 2024

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trezelue · 1 month ago

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◈On Board Bebop!◈

First post of something to calm my fanfic nerves. Or yours. Well, here goes:

🎇🐴🎇

◈ You're the newest member of the infamous Bebop! *hides an empty food can with the foot* Welcome!

◈ You've got great conditions to stay: the team's healer, an extra hand who won't give Jet any trouble, an extra person for Faye to steal- I MEAN, befriend... and another soul to put up with Spike's grumpiness. How great for him! Fresh meat;

◈ Now, what you didn't expect (and neither did he) was that he would fall in love with you after some observation. Don't get him wrong, there are days and days in the life of a space cowboy, and he is almost always bored to death. And you turned out to be a sensible enough person to always go back and forth in this big old junk cleaning, organizing and going out to buy groceries for the crew, get some sun or have fun by yourself. Your own hectic dynamics, your interests and habits gradually caught his attention; you are not the type to lie on the couch all the time. You save everyone from imminent starvation in the middle of space. You never gamble (although you are a bit of a consumer, but hey, who isn't??). You always help out in everything. How sweet you are!

◈ Look, Spike is reading "Cowboy Handbook #101: Isn't there anything in here that tells you what to do with this person???" ! *Spike looks at the 4th wall, confused*

◈ Let's get to the point: he's fallen in love and he won't admit it. But yeah, he'll do something to show it. Enough is enough, he thought! (someone help this man, please-)

◈ Given the previous events (I hate you, Julia), he's not the best to come right out and tell you everything he feels for you. He has a heart, though, so what's he going to do to say "I love you" without having to actually say it?

◈Had a long, busy day bounty hunting? "Mysteriously" there's a freshly prepared hot tub waiting for you as you head to the bedroom to get your clothes;

◈ Food is scarce again? (no surprises) If you haven't figured this out yet so you can help with your savings, he'll fight anyone to leave you something (he literally got into a shootout with Faye over the last Cup Noodles, I swear-);

◈ Your ship broke down and Jet isn't here to help? Put away your wallet, Spike-Spiegel-Fix-It-All will solve the problem with talent! (Jet later had to intervene 'cause Spike got lost in the instruction manual. But at least he helped a lot);

◈ Going to the market? To a fair? To the pharmacy? Out on the Bebop airstrip? Taking a quick trip to Alba City? To a nightclub? On a bounty hunt? He'll offer to go with you, always making the excuse that "I have nothing better to do" or "I needed to do something there too, can you believe that?" or "What if you need extra hands?". Clearly he'll do this sometimes yes and sometimes no, so as not to look like a damn stalker (in public??);

◈ Speaking of stalking, as I mentioned before, he's a very observant man. He'll take note of the things you like and will occasionally (when he's not more broke than he already is) gift you with your favorite food, a piece of clothing you regretted not having the money to buy before, a book you waited months for to be released, anything. Obviously, giving some excuse as to why he did it;

◈ As for your hobbies, he'll try to learn something about them to start a conversation out of nowhere. He might find some of them boring as hell, but if it makes you pay attention to him, then it'll be worth it. Maybe he'll even dedicate a day to doing one of these things with you;

◈ If you need extra ammunition, support in a firefight, a shield in combat, he'll be there to make sure you get home in one piece (even if that means sitting bandaged from head to toe on the couch for a few days and complaining about the pain);

◈ If you're injured, he'll play nurse (and mask his concern with a few scoldings that you'll retaliate because he's the one who gets injured the most on the team. Anyway, the hypocrisy-);

◈ Don't like cigarettes? Okay, you're really in hell with a bunch of smokers, what bad luck. But he'll realize that too and put out his cigarette as soon as you enter any place he's in (Jet didn't even have to open his mouth to ask, but he definitely did open it in surprise when he saw how quickly Spike put out his newly lit cigarette without any remorse);

◈ If you smoke too, he'll silently share some before you even go through your pockets;

◈ I'm getting very long with this list, so let's look at a behavioral analysis of Mr. Spiegel: grumpy, dull, slightly friendly (emphasis on "slightly"), cool by nature;

◈ "Oh, hi Spike-"

◈ Cut to him getting nervous and then burning his finger when he tries to put out his cigarette too quickly. Or silently sitting down on the couch and giving you space to sit while he tries to shake off the bad mood of the day. Or waving cheerfully at you if his day went better than expected and then going to tell you a (bad) joke he thought of while hunting. Have you guys seen "Split"?

◈ And the funniest thing about this whole dynamic is that you'll never understand why he's like this with you. Questionable? Certainly. Did Jet get it first? Obviously. Will Ed and Ein look at you curiously? Yup. Will Faye make insinuations?

◈ "You know what, newbie? You should learn how to ride your horse."

◈ You're like "what horse?", Ed's like "HORSEY, WHOOP WHOOP", Jet covered Ed's ears and Spike locked himself in the fridge since he's now a tomato. Special guest appearance by Ein barking because he's hungry.

And that's all for today, little horses! Little toucans! Little ferrets!-.........what are you, anyway? 🐴

#spike spiegel #spike spiegel x reader #cowboy bebop #spike #imagine #oneshot #fanfic #prompt list #reader insert #x reader #oc insert #spikespiegelfanfic

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rissiuniverse · 5 months ago

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writing a toxic Killermare fanfic and boy i cooked a bit with Killer’s internal monologue. here goes (warning for mentions of drugs and hypersexuality, depictions of mania and attachment issues):

Nightmare was very irritable lately, Killer noticed. That wasn’t unusual, of course. But still. Everyone noticed. Everyone was on the lookout for his tells, those signature admissions through his body language that expressed when he was about to blow up. Killer was really good at reading those. Too bad he ignored them a lot of the time.

Dust expressed his grievances regarding that. He’d ask why Killer knew so much and ignored it. Killer told him because it was funny.

Dust didn’t find it very funny. He said it’s stupid and mindless.

Dust thinks everything he does is stupid and mindless, though, so Killer shrugs it off.

… Things are much better in Killer’s mind when he pretends he isn’t aware of what’s going on.

For one thing, right now, he’s pretending that his soul isn’t itching him. He’s pretending he doesn’t feel his energy spiking, he pretends that he needs the same amount of sleep and isn’t experiencing insomnia, he’s pretending that he isn’t making more impulsive decisions than usual, and he’s pretending his head doesn’t feel like it’s splitting in multiple directions as he switches from task to task like ADHD on steroids.

He pretends a lot of things.

He pretends his hypersexuality is normal. He pretends that his craving for intimacy but the need to keep everyone emotionally at a distance doesn’t destroy any chances he has at proper relationships.

He pretends that Dust has no reason to hate him.

He pretends that working for Nightmare is HIS choice, that he could leave any time, like an addiction to nicotine.

He pretends he doesn’t fantasize about running away and meeting a cute guy he can snuggle and love with an army of cats to love him back.

… He pretends a lot.

#killer sans #killer sans posting #wip #writing #my writing

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alexanderlightweight · 2 years ago

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Greetings and loves.

Warlock Alec as Magnus's assistant please

hey <3 thank you and same to you!

i hope you enjoy how this goes! it's part of the tethers of fate verse which is where baby!alec ends up in the unseelie realm. it's a bit different than just alec being a warlock but he does have magic

lumine

“High Warlock Bane is no longer taking any appointments for the rest of the evening.” Alec says without even looking up, he can sense nephilim presences and he doesn’t care what they think they want or need, Alec isn’t letting a single other person take up another minute of Magnus’ night.

“Oh, I think he’ll be interested in this.”

Alec looks up at the smug, arrogant voice and blinks, staring at the group of three nephilim in front of him. The male looks vaguely familiar considering shadowhunter lines but the dark haired girl is the one Alec can practically taste a connection with. One of his very sideways nephilim relations then, he thinks with a scowl. The blonde is dangling a very familiar necklace and Alec blinks at it, honestly astonished and fairly furious at the sheer audacity.

Alec knows that his magic is spiking and he doesn’t care.

The shadowworld is in turmoil and Alec keeps a low profile for his own safety and that of Magnus and Tessa’s. That does not mean he is interested in playing little mind games with baby nephilim who don’t even consider the shit they’re trying to pull. Alec is the first line of defense when it comes to Magnus and the sanctity of their home. If Alec didn’t make sure Magnus wasn’t inundated with requests, he’d never get a moment alone with him. It’s possible that Alec is only have such a bad reaction because he hates Camille so fiercely, but the fact that after all this time, pieces of her and Magnus’ toxic friendship keep showing up, irks him.

“Alexander, is something wrong?” Magnus calls from the couch, looking as cool and composed as usual, his normal entourage respectfully attending him but never quite touching Magnus with anything other than admiration.

Alec’s normal temper is even and cool but when it crests, there is nothing to stop the cold storm of his wrath. Magnus’ eyes widen as his breath mists and he rises, shooing away his retainers as he steps down and closer to Alec who gives him a scowl and crosses his arms.

“What is wrong.” Magnus says, because he won’t ask the same question twice and Alec doesn’t huff, he won’t give the nephilim the satisfaction of a divided front.

“These nephilim are hoping to bribe their way into an appointment with you.” Alec murmurs, his voice as soft and deep as the moan of winter wind being strangled by the trees. I found their methods crude enough; it was the bribe itself that is the problem.” And then, because they haven’t been bonded for years for Alec not to know exactly how to push Magnus’ buttons, he summons a portal and sends Magnus a toothy, barely feral smile and says, “have fun.”

—

Magnus stares at where his darling has disappeared and turns, staring at the three nephilim who have upset his boy. He’s about to demand an answer when he realizes several things at once. The necklace Magnus once gave Camille as a sign of their friendship is being held in the air. Magnus feels his breath leave his lungs and then it reignites with fury.

“Why did you bring that?” Magnus asks, voice sharp, because he is not going to meet with these nephilim for a mere trifle of a poisonous friendship.

“Oh please—” blondie scoffs, “everyone knows that you’ve been trying to get this back ever since you and your lover broke up.”

“My lover?” Magnus asks, because he’s gone to great lengths to protect Alexander’s place in his life from prying clave and nephilim noses. But never with the intention that another might be named as his paramour instead of his bonded partner. That alone would be enough to ignite Magnus’ own fury, but for it to be Camille, this is so much worse. Magnus would make that clear, but he has more important things to be doing, like checking in on the man he loves. “If you want to make an appointment, bring something worth my while.” Magnus scoffs and he summons a portal, about to step through it when a pressure against his personal wards and a small cry of pain make him turn.

“Do not grab warlocks without permission.” Magnus snarls and he thinks the burns on her palms a well-paid price for her audacity. “Make an actual appointment, if you desire my attention.”

Magnus portals to their lair and focuses for a moment, trying to pinpoint where exactly Alexander went. Not to Tessa and not to Ragnor — who loves to bitch about Camille with Magnus’ boy — and, ah.

Magnus blinks as rage resettles into his system and the portal he makes shatters wards as he steps through into the unseelie realm that Alexander so rarely goes without him. It’s a concession and only given because Magnus can never be sure when the wild magicks that rest under Alexander’s skin will awaken and drag him off onto another wild hunt.

“Beloved—” Magnus croons when he sees his boy and he bites back the rage at seeing Alexander curled up with others. Alexander never minds others touching Magnus the same way Magnus minds others touching his Alexander. Partially, because of how Alexander was raised, and partially because Magnus knows that the unseelie hate that Magnus claimed Alexander as his own. That they have never forgotten and never forgiven that Magnus was part of the reason the Spiral Labyrinth claimed Alexander at all.

Alexander pouts up at him, eyes glossy from whatever he’s inhaled since coming here and Magnus hisses, not having expected whatever it is to kick in so quickly.

“Come home with me?” Magnus asks gently, not yet approaching because there are several viciously smug unseelies smirking at him.

“No.” Alexander says, tone sulking as he turns and presses his face to the bare shoulder of an unseelie guard. Magnus wants to rip away the skin that is daring to touch his boy, but he doesn’t. This is something he has to allow no matter how furious it makes him.

there is a lot of backstory that i'll have to write into notes for this lmfao

alec isn't quite a warlock, he's not actually an unseelie but he's no longer nephilim as he should be. also if you're wondering about the timeline. uh, no one knows when alec was born or where he's from. faerie rings don't work in the same magic and time as the rest of the world. he's been Arawn's kid for a couple centuries at this point

#lumine writes #writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #shadowhunters #tethers of fate

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scarefox · 1 year ago

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Had to force feed Maya again and just wanted to show how I do it (she's fine now).

what happened?

I noticed the last time she ate was in the morning, she's just laying or sitting around and she refused treats -> my test to see if something is wrong, since they always take treats even if they are lazy

her body felt a bit shaky

she held her head up as if she was focusing on something. For better / controlled breathing? to act as if she's fine? (buns hide illnesses) she behaved unusual

feeling her belly it was soft, no cramping but her stomach felt empty

(hard belly and cramping are signs of constipation somewhere in their digestive system -> don't force feed !!!)

why is not eating bad for buns?

their digestive system stops moving if they stop eating for too long

the stuff in their stomach starts building gases which makes them bloating up (rabbits can't fart or burp so that's gonna be painful at minimum or turn critical)

they start feeling sick (which makes them even less motivated to eat), their body temperature goes lower, their immune system shuts down at some point

they die from it if it's not getting fixed (don't know why nature invented such a dumb system)

common causes I had with all my buns over the years

too much fur ingested due to fur changing season (clogged system -> don't force feed!!!)

did eat too much too fast (clogged system -> don't force feed!!!)

didn't eat enough (stomach starts bloating, bun feels sick and too uncomfy to eat)

tooth spikes when their teeth grow (as they constantly do) in wrong directions (force feeding is good here but teeth have to get fixed by a vet)

didn't drink enough on a hot day -> dehydration (bun feels sick and too uncomfy to eat, stomach starts bloating)

some illness or meds side effect that causes dizziness or nausea (bun feels sick and too uncomfy to eat, stomach starts bloating)

-> but I think Maya was dehydrated cause today was very hot and she's currently taking heart meds that can cause nausea and loss of appetite.

Tho she was obviously hungry / thirsty as you can see in the video. She's more or less taking the food willingly. If she hates it (like meds...) she fights back more and takes forever to swallow too. Sometimes she or Caramel lets it drip out of their mouth. But she still refused to eat the mash on her own. It's special hay & herbs powder mix + water for force feeding sick animals (sometimes I mix it with lukewarm herbal tea). The stuff in the syringe is the same just with more water to get it in.

+ I gave her some meds that eliminates the bloating and bubbling in the stomach. I had some from the vet still. But there are meds for human babies that I get usually: Sab Simplex. It works the same and you can't overdose that one. It will not cause any side effects and just leaves the body on the natural way if it's too much (tho 1ml per 1kg bun is enough).

Usually the whole treatment has to be repeated every 2h till the bun is fine again.

The way I am holding her:

it's working damn good with all my buns. I found that technique in a yt video years ago. Basically holding the upper body up, shielding their bum with your elbow and body so they can't escape backwards. And if the bun turns their head away you can stop them with your shoulder or the fingers of the holding hand. The syringe / whatever feeding tool you have needs to go inside their mouth behind their front teeth if they are unwilling to take it. If they are willing they might drink it normally from the front. You gotta give them small doses with breaks, time to swallow and to calm down too.

Oh and it's very helpful to put them on places (table, chair) that is unfamiliar to them, so they are more cautious to move fast. And they need something under their feet that makes them not slip away.

At the end I was checking her belly again to make sure it's still soft and not hard. Soft is good~ And massaging their belly helps with restarting the movement in there.

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

In this case today she basically just needed a jump start to eat & drink again. I gave her like 3 syringes full till she voiced discomfort (chattering of teeth). Right after the treatment she started eating on her own. She's fine now, is more agile again and even takes treats again.

[This is all based on my own experiences and what I learned from vets over the years. Don't do any of this if you are not sure and are inexperienced -> go to a vet then]

#accidentally wrote a whole essay but didn't want to leave questions open #my bunnies #bunnies #rabbits #sick pet

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m1d-45 · 2 years ago

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Okay uh. More angst for ya today!

Kaeya doesn't leave his house for a few days, and someone (probably Jean) goes to check on him, only to find him passed out with several empty wine bottles around him. Jean sighs, and asks Diluc to take his brother to the winery so he wouldn't be alone.

This backfires. Badly. When Kaeya wakes up and realizes where he is, he cries. He feels like he's being punished even more because of the memories associated with the winery. He cries, and hides... until Diluc and Creator come in.

Diluc swallows his pride, and Creator feels heartbroken. Both move to hold Kaeya, holding him close as the cavalry captain cries and apologizes over and over.

...I might draw this. -sibling anon

oh…. you’re so right…..

spoilers for kaeya + diluc lore

diluc taking kaeya to the manor for his own safety, kaeya waking up still drunk and in a bit of a daze, confused as to what’s going on even as diluc drops him in his bed.

“i don’t want you to die,” he says when kaeya asks why he’s here. “i… i do still care for you.”

and kaeya lies there as he leaves, looking around the room and taking in as much as he can. it’s so accurate, down to the shoes in the closet and the book on the nightstand….. he can almost…. he can almost believe it’s real.

maybe he’s sick, days of overwork, exhaustion, and he’s probably not eating as well as he should. a diet of wine and the occasional meal noelle brings him combined with his naturally low temperature… maybe adelinde checks in on him, noticing hes fallen asleep with his eyepatch in again and reaching for it it, her hand brushing against his forehead. she thinks over his behavior, how much at risk it put him for illness…

she tells diluc immediately, of course, who sends a letter to you just as fast. he knows how much you care for his brother, and if he’s being honest… he kind of hopes you’ll come back and knock some sense into him. seeing kaeya like this—feverish and ill, wasting away, probably more alcohol than water in his system, knowing that you’ve forgiven him and that this punishment is self-inflicted…

diluc doesn’t like it. he hates it, in fact, and almost wishes for the time when he’d stroll into angel’s share with a winning smile and ask for a round.

kaeya, as careless as he seems, isn’t stupid. when he wakes up, feels a headache beating at his head, the fog over his mind, he knows he’s ill. he slides his legs off the bed, sitting up with a wince, and blinks as he realizes where he is.

his room at the manor.

waves of nostalgia and guilt wash over him, tears springing to his eyes. he reaches up to wipe them away—somebody’s removed his gloves, his spiked bracelets—and finds that his eyepatch is gone, tears fall freely from both of his eyes and he simultaneously feels more exposed and more at ease.

a memory surfaces from the fog, of diluc pulling the chair from his table and holding him up as he removed it. he’d let him lean on him, removing his scarf and cape and helping him fumble off his boots.

“i’m sorry,” he’d tried to mumble, but diluc stopped the words a mile away with a shake of his head.

“we can talk about this later. for now, just… just rest, kaeya.”

more tears rose to his eyes. how foolish his feverish mind was, assuming diluc would want a brother that had betrayed him so. how traitorous, to try and twist the world into one that ended up with somebody as sinful as him being loved.

when the door opens, he rushes to try and compose himself—don’t cry, stop crying, they’ll think you’re manipulating them again—and covers his eye with his hand, looking up.

he expects adelinde. elzer, maybe, or another of the staff. diluc, if he’s particularly lucky—or unlucky, depending on how you look at it. but you…

the light from the hallway behind you makes you look like an angel, he thinks.

the concern with which you call his name cements the idea.

but you shouldn’t care for him. and he shouldn’t want you to. no, no, he needs to get his mind together. he needs to stop warping your image to fit his selfishness, he- he-

“it’s okay.” he almost hopes that he’s hallucinating from illness so he doesn’t have to face the idea that even after all this, you could care for someone like him.

when your hand lands in his hair, moving his fingers from where they’d been digging into his scalp, the fragile ties over his composure snap.

the facade of the cavalry captain falls apart and shatters on his bedroom floor, the equally as broken man behind it crumbling. watery apologies and pleads slip out between his sobs, and he leans into you when you move to sit beside him. his emotions are inflamed by wine and fever, his thoughts a twist of regret and damnation.

the bed dips again, a familiar hand warmed by pyro landing on his shoulder.

“you’re alright,” his brother says.

“it’ll be okay,” his god soothes.

between the two people he loves, kaeya cries. blessed as he is, the two of them are there to pick up the pieces.

#m1d : [chats]#sibling anon #this is NOT intended as a ship between the brothers and if you choose to read it like that i’m hunting you for sport #i should make a tag for stuff i write on tumblr and not in notion #just cause m doin it a lot lately and kinda want a tag for it #hmmmmm #m1d : [secrets]#sounds appropriately cryptic

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boilingheart · 6 years ago

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random sudden spikes of pain keep happening at the navel of my tummy and then going away but it’s been like that all day and it’s keeping on edge like goddamn if i’m dying just let me die already lmao

#bheart talks #stop psyching me out my anxious ass can't handle it if i'm gonna die just die already sdkljfslkfjls i'm tired #stop scaring me #i hate the feeling!! it spikes for a bit then goes away but it leaves me with a bad feeling!!! rhghghh!! it's cold!

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juicegremlin · 3 years ago

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Hugs (5+1)

~ 1 ~

TW: concussion, injury, angst.

Andrew goes down hard. His arms smack the court floor, and all the air steals from his lungs. A whistle shrills.

“Andrew!”

Pain flares in the back of his skull. He clipped it on the goalpost on his way down, hard enough to reverberate through his helmet. He tugs it off now, trying his hardest not to gasp.

He’s distantly aware of shouting on the court—blurs of green and orange rushing back and forth or standing idly by. He can hear the crowd murmur and gasp.

A voice pipes to Andrew’s right. “Oh my god—Minyard?”

A growl parts Andrew’s lips. He pushes up onto his hands and knees—pretends he can’t taste copper on his tongue.

“Fuck off,” he spits.

He looks to where Nicky gapes on in horror. Renee rushes for Abby, colored hair just barely peeking out from below her helmet. Aaron stands off to the side with his knuckles white around the stick of his racquet.

The Terrapin that rushed Andrew—Number Six—crouches to his right. She reaches out, as if to help Andrew to his feet.

“Here, let me—”

“Don’t fucking touch him.”

Neil practically bites the line as he rushes to Andrew’s side. Number Six hesitates, hands hovering in the air between herself and Andrew. Andrew thinks seriously about removing several of her fingers.

Before he can, a Terrapin backliner moves forward and takes Six by the shoulders. He pulls her up and away.

“Are you crazy?” He mutters, moving her back to the relative safety of the game. “They’ll fucking kill you—”

Neil drops to his knees before Andrew. He’s still angry, but it’s dominated by the fierce concern in his eyes. His lips are pressed into a thin line.

“Yes or no?” He asks quietly.

Andrew grits his teeth. He hates that Neil knows to ask, even when Andrew is vulnerable. Especially when Andrew is vulnerable.

“Yes,” Andrew bites out.

Neil reaches forward—slowly, so that Andrew can see what he’s doing—and places a light hand on Andrew’s chin. He turns his head this way and that, making it throb. Andrew purses his lips.

“Where does it hurt?” Neil asks.

Everywhere. “Back.”

Neil places a hand at the base of Andrew’s neck. Andrew hisses when his fingers brush the point of impact, and when Neil pulls his hand away, it’s smeared with blood.

“Shit,” Neil murmurs. “Can I help you up?”

Alarm spikes in Andrew’s chest. Weak, his brain supplies. Fragile. Breakable. He knows everyone else can see it, too.

But when he tries to get up on his own, he stumbles. Neil’s hands shoot out to catch him, and it’s all Andrew can take not to bat them away. Helpless.

“Drew,” Neil levels big blue eyes at him. “Will you let me?”

Exposed—Andrew feels exposed.

But Neil wouldn’t exploit that. Bone-deep, Andrew knows this—so he forces himself to let Neil slide an arm around his waist and help him off the court.

***

It’s a minor concussion. Abby tells Andrew he’s lucky—a blow like that could have knocked him unconscious. This one just barely split the skin.

Andrew does not feel lucky.

Neil finds him after the game. He sits with him as he changes out, not reaching or pushing. Just there if Andrew needs him. He wards off the other Foxes when they ask if Andrew is okay (an unfortunate side-effect of the bandages) and stays until everyone else leaves. He twiddles his thumbs on the bench as Andrew finishes tying his shoes.

“I’m driving,” Neil says.

Andrew doesn’t argue, just hands him the keys. He’s still a bit dizzy.

When he shuts his locker, the sound spikes through his temples. He winces, just barely, but Neil doesn’t miss it. He moves to stand beside Andrew and wordlessly takes his bag for him.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

Andrew rolls his eyes. He hates the way his stomach twists at the question, not unpleasantly. He hates the idea of Neil’s concern.

“I’ve had worse,” he replies, stoic as he can manage.

“Yeah, but that was…” Neil swallows. “Can I say something?”

Andrew turns to look at him. Neil pushes his brows together, jaw set in a hard line. His russet hair is still dripping from the showers. He’s close enough for Andrew to feel his breath on his nose.

And Andrew knows he’s about to say something horrible, but he’s coming to realize just how bad he is at denying Neil—which is, to say, astronomically. He shrugs, but Neil waits until he nods.

“That sucked to watch,” Neil says. “I thought… I don’t know. I thought you broke something, for a second.”

Andrew rolls his eyes. “What, like my skull?”

“Yeah, Drew. Like your skull.”

Andrew pauses at that. Neil’s expression is hard and earnest, and Andrew feels like swaying again.

Had Neil been… afraid for him?

“It’s not my job to dodge,” Andrew replies, a bit gruffly.

“Yeah, but—” Neil huffs, running a hand back through his wet hair. “I just—” He looks at Andrew again, and his eyes have softened into something almost… sad.

He bites his lip. “Yes or no?”

Andrew frowns—considers.

Then, “Yes.”

And he expects a kiss. A quick press of the lips—maybe a hand through his hair.

But when Neil moves forward, he doesn’t dip his head. Instead, he slowly loops his arms around Andrew’s shoulders, pulling him close. He leaves a few inches between their bodies—not quite a proper embrace—but remains close enough to bury his nose in Andrew’s hair. He presses a kiss there.

Andrew can’t remember the last time he was hugged. It’s different, feeling all of Neil like this, but somehow, it isn’t… bad. Neil hasn’t strayed from Andrew’s approved points of contact. He’s warm, and whole. He doesn’t squeeze or restrict, just lets his arms drape loosely around Andrew’s biceps.

And Andrew could escape, if he wanted to—

He’s just not sure that he does.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | +1

I’ve had this in the drafts for a year, maybe? Wild. Part 2 tomorrow!

#aftg #aftg fic #all for the game #the foxhole court #tfc #andreil #aftg hc #andrew minyard #neil josten #let me know if i missed any TW's!#aftg fanfic #JuiceGremlin

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uchiha-7thsingularity · 2 years ago

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Last Legacy MC with Phobias

Felix Iskander Escellun: arachnophobia

He was laying on your lap reading a new series, along with your delicate fingertips running laps through his glossy brown/purplish locks. Up till the point you stop altogether. Slowly he opens one eye to squint up at your frozen features. Your piercing gaze locked on to something. A terror. A sinful beast. A monster that haunts your quivering soul…..a spider.

Straight to it. You choke on your scream, pushing Felix off your warm lap, hugging the sofa.

"Burn it!" "Burn it all!" *throws pillows and novels at the floor* (Felix laying on his stomach on the floor 😳). Generally, he was unfamiliar with your fear of bugs/insects 'cause it never bothered him peronally. Hell's, his taxidermy collection involves most the species of creepy crawlers.

He calms you down a bit and catches the spider in a jar to release it outside later. Furthermore, he catches any bugs before you can see them and squish them under your heel.

If your still scared he will check the entire room to cuddle by your side promising protection. You allow him to continue his taxidermy because it's one of his passions. Just to have a separate room of his bug/insect collection far, far away from your shared room.

(Poly ft. Rime) he will tease you with felix. If you start to be bothered by their teasing they will apologize and put up protection spells to satisfy your mental state.

At one point he does try to get you to hold insects (if you give you consent first) to concur your fear. It ends with you bleaching your hands and lost of appetite for a few days. But you held a butterfly for a millisecond. He's proud of your courage. Though feels for the butterfly swatted and howled at by his lover.

Sage Lesath: claustrophobia

Tight spaces have freaked you out for as long as possible. He notices you fidgeting next to him within the sewers/tunnels. He thinks because it's dark, cramped and nasty down there that it wrinkles his own nose.

Then a rat appears and you jump so high you land on top of his broad shoulders. Wasn't enough to be in a never-ending cycle of little to no space. The idea of other foul creatures being down there with you two on your escapade. Freaking out inside you head, sage is breathlessly telling you to retract the nails off his neck. As you do, he holds you close gently cooing soft-spoken words to settle your nerves.

Upon leaving you recklessly kiss porrima's stone paths. Then spit and gag as sage laughs his ass off.😅

Going bounty hunting. He warns you to tell him when you grow uncomfortable and anxious. One day he got so caught up in the chase he lost you in the alleyways. "MC!!" *sobs* (his ear flicks in the direction of tears) he finds you curled up in a ball on the curbside. You burst into tears at his arrival, "You v-vanished. *cough* I-I *sniff* can't breathe!" That moment wrecked him. He never let's you leave his side unless you say so.

When you wonder into a crowded area he holds your hand. Goes to the springs to wash up to have extra space to swim around. Only lays on your stomach to let you have arm space. Let's you sit at the end of a table to give your feet room.

Will check for traps or small spaces to steer you in another direction. *fans you excessively*

Makes sure to send you air hugs or air high fives if you felt crowded or uneasy after a mission. Calms you with letting you feel the tuft around his ears. Swishes his tail to take your mind off the walls closing in on you two.

Anisa Anka: agoraphobia

Eyes. Numerous shadows casted over your trembling figure. Voices speaking in tongues around you. You feel nauseated at the fact their eyes shift towards you and anisa. Being with a knight is precious. But…on the condition you hate the absolute most is to be smothered in a crowd of a thousand.

The sunstone order. The citizens. The travelers. Every waking moment is anisa being surrounded by people asking for her assistance. Which of course, is hardly a bad thing, but could spike your blood pressure once in a while.

Anyways, she has been aware of your eyes shifting to the floor when she's talking to the other knights. Or biting your fingernails when in a public place. It gets so bad when she notices you've tend to drift off inside your head as somebody is reporting an incident to her on a stroll in the courtyard.

Reluctantly, you tell her of your woes expecting her to roll her eyes. Yet, she sits you down to coddle you singing compliments here and there. 🥺Will be asking what she can do to formulate a comfort zone around the two of you.

The following week she rubs her thumbs over your hands when talking to someone rank or none. To make you feel visible in her eyes and others but not to put you in the spotlight.

Speaks to you directly to see how your doing in public areas. Breathes a sigh of relief when you nod your head to lay on her shoulders.

Can bring a bag of candy in her pocket to distract you for a bit as to not daydream 24/7. Or at least without her by your side.

Rime Solano Varela: hemophobia

All shades of red is a mood board for this guy. You…not in the slightest. He catches on quickly, for instance, fainting, gagging, and goosebumps raising the hair on the back of your neck.

Entirely, the recent example would be helping him bandage sage up after a bar brawl he started off the counter. As he joked, you swooned and not in a good way. The way one was to get woozy after getting a concussion walking into a wall. Then vomiting on his rug after sage and him sat there whiplashed at your own sickness of seeing a flesh wound.

Nevertheless, he buckled down. Which means he confronted you head-on by bribing you with food. You break telling him everything.

Leading him to rub your shoulders and run a hot bath for you humming a melody to relax your nerves. 🤤

Keeps cold water near by to give to you. Tosses nicknames at you to take your mind off the liquid red ooze. When treating a patient has the tendency to make eye contact with you to help you focus.

If you steal glances at him he will encourage you with a wink to help you keep going with the healing process. "I thought you weren't one to give up, MC." *sweating* "I-I wasn't." Tucks hair behind your red tinted ears. "Didn't doubt you for a sec either." God, this deer is a problem.

At the end of the day you slump in on yourself. He picks you to pour you a drink. *clinks glasses* job well done. (Again can't get enough of these two men. Poly ft. Felix) will leave notes to support you. Drops everything he's doing to hug you from behind to settle your nerves.

P.s. Happy New Years Everyone!! 🥳

#fictif #last legacy #felix iskandar escellun #rime solano varela #sage lesath #anisa anka #phobias

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odetojeons · 4 years ago

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Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request: Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing. You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

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It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

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“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

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BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

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“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

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This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different —, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

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Wonwoo is… hot.

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There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

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And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

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You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

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His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

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You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

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You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

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Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

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You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

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“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

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There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

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“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

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“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

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Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

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“Answer me.”

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You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The best intimidating possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did I make myself clear?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

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earlgreydream · 4 years ago

Text

loyalty.

| golden era!wolfstar & daughter!reader | angst |

anon requested. but could you do a dad Wolfstar x daughter reader. The reader confronts her dads about how they prefer Harry and how they ignore her. It ends with wolfstar feeling bad and reader just over everyone's bs.

a/n: I altered/expanded on your request a bit, but kept the general idea. I hope you like it!

“Dad!” You called, and Sirius turned to you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, we have to go,” he spoke before following Remus and Harry through a corridor.

“Dad, I need you!”

Remus called an apology back before disappearing with Harry in a swirl of floo powder. You felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest, leaving you broken and alone in the Order hallway.

You loved your dads, and they loved you, but your whole life, they had prioritized their godson, Harry Potter over you. You were repeatedly left and forgotten, even after your biological father escaped from Azkaban.

You always fought for attention, but Sirius and Remus often left you with a kiss on the forehead to run off, saving Harry.

Once again, you were left in the shadows, stuck at the order safe house. You fought back tears, shaking your head as you walked up the rickety stairs.

“Y/N!” Your name was called, and you walked down the hall, leaning into Fred and George’s doorway. They had been practicing magic when they heard your cries from down the hall.

The two gingers looked up at you sympathetically, and George moved over on his bed, making room for you. You walked in, your shoulders trembling as you struggled to hold yourself together.

You crawled into George’s bed beside him, burying yourself in your best friend’s arms. Fred sat behind you, laying his hands on your shoulder and side.

“They leave with Harry again?” George asked, and your weak nod was enough of an answer.

“I hate them,” you sobbed, and George squeezed you.

“You love them,” Fred reminded you.

“They love Harry more than me. Fucking golden boy.” You wept, and George let you cry in his arms.

“That’s not true, they love you so much,” George promised, and you hid your face in him.

You stayed with the twins that night, even after hearing Harry and your dads return. Muffled voices in the hallway told Sirius and Remus their daughter was safe with Fred and George, and you laid in the dark, biting back tears.

Sirius and Remus were waiting for you when you went back to your bedroom, after spending the day holed up with the Weasley twins, the only ones you felt truly cared about you.

“Y/N, we need to talk,” Remus spoke gently, and you stepped back.

“You’re right. We do need to talk. Why don’t you love me as much as Harry? He’s not even your real son! You always choose him over me. All your efforts, all your attention, it all goes to him!” You exploded, and Sirius looked hurt at the accusation. Remus, as always, tried to maintain a steady patience, but even he was taken aback.

“Y/N, you know that we love you more than anyone, or anything.” Sirius knelt down in front of you, taking your hands.

“Why don’t you show it?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and you swallowed down the sob that rose in your throat.

Sirius felt like his heart was going to break as he felt your pain, and saw the hurt in Remus’s eyes.

“We’re doing our best-”

“Your best isn’t enough! Not when your best is ignoring me, and acting like Harry is your only child!” You screamed at Remus.

“Y/N!” Sirius shouted, fear spiking through you. Your fathers never raised their voices at you, and you were silenced by Sirius’s sudden display of emotion.

“Padfoot. My love, I’m so sorry we’ve hurt you. We will be better, but you must understand that we’re fighting a war. And Harry is a key piece of it, we’re fighting-” Remus spoke gently to you, but you felt patronized.

“You think I don’t know we’re in a war? I know Harry is the chosen one, and I know that you’re just trying to make James proud-”

“Keep his name out of your mouth.” Sirius’s dark eyes blazed into yours, and you ripped your hands from his.

“Sirius.” Remus put his hand on his husband’s chest, steadying Sirius’s emotions.

“I’ll never be enough for you. Never enough like the Potters.” You shook your head, and Harry walked in.

“Y/N, it’s not like that, your dads are doing this to protect you.” Harry defended Remus and Sirius.

“Leave me alone, all of you. Please!” You couldn’t stand it, and Remus pulled Sirius out before he could yell at you again. Harry followed them, pulling your door closed after him.

Your chest heaved with sobs, and you blindly opened your wardrobe. You had to leave. You didn’t belong there, in the Order.

You slipped into a black dress, and black shoes, brushing your hair out. You grabbed your wand, and slipped out the window. You grabbed a drain pipe and slid down, landing on the cobblestone street outside. The sky was dark, the sun recently set and leaving the world in the silence of the night.

You walked far enough away that your magic wouldn’t be tracked or alert the other Order members, and you whispered a complicated transportation spell, waving your wand.

When your eyes opened, you stood in the courtyard of Malfoy Manor, and you looked up at the large home that stretched out in front of you. Guards alerted the residence of your unannounced arrival, and you were escorted inside the dark, luxurious mansion of your estranged relatives.

“Y/N?” A soft voice asked, and Narcissa Malfoy walked toward you. Her husband was with her, and Draco came running from behind them.

“Y/N!” He ran to you, and you threw your arms around your cousin’s neck. Draco hugged you tightly, and you started to sob. Narcissa’s gentle hands rubbed your back, and you held Draco tightly.

“What are you doing here?” Lucius asked.

You sat near a fireplace, tea in your hands and Draco next to you. Back at Hogwarts, the two of you had been close before your dads dragged you to the Order.

“I needed somewhere to go. I needed you.” You answered, looking up at Narcissa and Draco.

“And the Order?”

“They probably don’t know I’m gone.”

“We can’t have-”

“Lucius.” Narcissa interrupted.

“Please, don’t kick me out,” you begged Lucius, who looked uneasy.

“Prove your loyalty, and you have a home with us. A family who will love you.” Narcissa promised, and Draco gripped your hand. You looked him in the eyes, and he shook his head.

“Don’t make her sign her soul over to the Dark Lord. Y/N isn’t a snitch, she just needs family.” Draco defended you.

“It’s okay,” you told him, and Narcissa nodded at you. You took Lucius’s outstretched hand, and you repeated the spell back to him that burned a black snake and skull into your forearm.

#marauders #marauders x y/n #marauders x reader #wolfstar #wolfstar angst #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter angst #draco malfoy #draco malfoy angst #draco #draco angst #hogwarts

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monako-jinn-stories · 3 years ago

Text

Jesse X Fem!Reader FanFic

Galaxy of Only Us

Master List

Warnings:

NSFW, 18+ ONLY, unprotected p in v sex, fingering fem receiving, some fluffy smut, a bit of angst

The curtains flutter in the open window as the bright morning sun shines through. The peaceful sounds of creatures in the garden outside your room brings a small smile to your lips. You snuggle further in your sheets, and feel a pair of comforting arms wrap tighter around you.

Those peaceful sounds of the outdoors were interrupted, however, by the sudden loud snoring of your lover. You scrunch your face in amusement before opening your eyes tiredly. Another snore vibrating against your back tickles you, and you let a soft giggle slide out.

“Don’t laugh at me,” the sleepy trooper mumbles against your skin. His warm breath sends a shiver down your spine, and you feel his lips press gently onto your shoulder.

“I’m not laughing at you,” you reply, stroking the arm that wraps under your chest.

“Then why did you giggle?” he asks, his thumb rubbing against your skin now. You squirm slightly, his other fingers joining in.

“Be-because,” you say through giggles. His fingers start working faster, and his other hand joins in as he starts to tickle you.

“J-Jesse! Stop it! You-ah you know I hate being tick-tickled!” He just chuckles against your back, holding you close so you don’t escape his playful attack. You squirm some more, trying to get away, but you accidentally rub your thigh against him in one particular spot. He lets out a groan, and instantly his hands stop.

“Sorry,” you say, though you don’t mean it. He just grunts, adjusting slightly so there wasn’t any pressure on it. You move as well, wanting to tease him. One of his hands goes up to squeeze your breast in warning, letting you know what’s coming if you don’t stop.

“Mesh’la,” he says, a verbal warning as you rub back against him. It’s deep, low in your ear. It rumbles through your body to heat your core.

“Yes, handsome?” you say, turning slightly so that you could catch a glimpse of him. You could see him fighting the lust, trying not to give in to you. You just smirk and giggle again, pushing back against him harder.

“What? Last night wasn’t enough for you?” he says, one hand trailing down your waist while the other massages your breast.

“Maybe I just want more of my handsome man,” you reply, and the feeling of his fingers twisting your nipple sends another spike of arousal through you. You bite your lip to hold in a soft moan, humming instead.

“Oh, pretty girl, if you want this, you’re not going to take it quietly,” he says, his fingers sliding between your folds and finding your clit. He wastes no time in setting a devastating rhythm, and you bring a hand up to muffle the moan that slips out.

“You’re more than just a handsome face,” you manage to pant out, grinding back against him again. You feel his stiffened cock press against you, and his hand leaves your breast to grab himself.

“Yeah? And you’re more than just a pretty girl,” he says, using his thumb to rub his precum around the head of his cock. “You’re my pretty girl, and I’m gonna make you feel special.”

“You always do, Jesse,” you say softly, and his grip on you loosens before his hand slides up to turn your head. When you meet his eyes, the hungry lust is no longer there. It’s been replaced by a sweeter one, and you can see the admiration in his eyes. He leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your mouth, thumb trailing over your cheek. You sigh into it, shifting so that you can bring your own hand up to cradle his face.

When he pulls away, he slowly grabs your leg and lifts it up. You hold it there for him so he can line himself up with you. He kisses your shoulder as he drags his length through your folds a few times, gathering your slick onto himself before he nudges your entrance with the tip.

“You ready, pretty girl?” he asks with a whisper in your ear.

“Always, for you, my handsome man,” you reply, and he lets out a quiet groan as he slowly pushes in. His chest is flush against your back as he fully sheaths his length in you, and he pauses to let you adjust.

He has his arm wrapped underneath your chest again, and you stroke it encouragingly when you’re ready. He tilts his head to kiss your neck before he moves again, slowly dragging out nearly all the way before pushing back in. Contrary to how his fingers were just minutes before, his movements are slow and methodical. He makes sure you feel every inch of him while he takes every inch of you.

“Jesse,” you let out quietly, and he hums against your skin. You roll your hips back into him, meeting his pace. The exhale he lets out tickles your skin, raising goosebumps where it trails over. His arm that’s wrapped around you pulls back, and his hand goes back to your breasts. He gently massages them before circling his fingers around your nipples.

“What happened, pretty girl?” he asks with a light tone, “just a few minutes ago, your attitude was perky. Now, the only thing perky about you is your tits.” You share a laugh with him at the comment, the action causing your bodies to move together in a pleasant way. Your laughs turn to moans, and he squeezes slightly on a hardened nipple.

“You were nipping right back at me, handsome,” you say. “Now, you can’t keep your lips off of me.”

“Cause you taste too sweet,” he says, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the side of your jaw. His hot breath fans over your face as he sighs in time with his length pushing into you again. The feeling of him so close, of you two being so intimate, sent a warm feeling through your body. It wasn’t arousal, no. This feeling was love.

Love for the very man you dreamt of every night. Love for the man who always came back to you. Love for the soldier who had no choice but to dedicate his life to the Republic. Love for the man who, despite the previous fact, dedicated his life to you.

“How did I get such a pretty girl like you?” he says, pulling back from you and sliding his cock out. When you no longer feel his warmth against your back, you turn and look at him. He just leans over and gives you a soft kiss before repositioning the two of you. He lifts your legs to wrap around his waist as he lines himself up again. He then leans down again, resting on his elbows as he pushes back in.

Your hands grip at his shoulders, rubbing over the back of them before trailing down his arms. He grinds his hips into you, reaching deep as he does. Your head falls back and eyes flutter shut, and he takes the opportunity to kiss your exposed neck.

“Mmm, a pretty girl like you deserves the best in the galaxy,” he mutters as his lips trail down to your chest.

“And a handsome man like you is everything I need,” you reply, pushing his hips closer with your legs around his waist. He lets you angle him to your pleasing, one hand tracing your side down to your hip, where he gently grabs and rubs small circles into your skin.

Neither of you are chasing your highs, each just savoring the moments together. Rarely do you get to slip away with him, to wake up in a peaceful place without the world outside your door waiting to suck you back in. Right now, it was just you two, your bodies connected, and it’s that matters.

“I’d do anything for you, pretty girl,” he says, lips moving up to whisper in your ear again. “Anything you ask, I’ll do immediately.” The words struck you, and you barely thought about it before your words were slipping off your tongue.

“Leave the GAR for me.” Your words shoot through him, and he only briefly pauses in reaction before his pace quickens. “Run away with me.” His hips move faster yet, and his hand comes around to slide between your bodies, finding your sensitive clit. “Marry me on some faraway planet where no one will ever find us.” The sheets tighten beside your head, and you know he’s squeezing them into his fist. “Be my handsome man, Jesse.”

Your final plea is a whimper as the motions of his thumb furiously rubbing your clit, mixed with the now fast and rough thrusts of his hips, push you over the edge. Your hands grip tight on his shoulders as he lets out a long groan. Your own moans slip out as your body tenses and spasms under him. Your walls clench tight, and Jesse lets out a stuttering breath as he releases deep in you. His hips slowly ride out the waves you both crash from, and then he leans down to capture your lips in another kiss. It’s desperate now, almost apologetic. And you know why. You had broken an unsaid rule between the two of you: Don’t talk about the war. Don’t talk about how you’re never guaranteed to see him again after he leaves you. Don’t talk about how, even if he survives, your futures together are shorter than normal, due to his rapid aging. Don’t talk about how your love was never really meant to be.

When he pulls back, you see the unshed tears in his eyes. You see how he forces them back, keeping himself from allowing you to see your shared reality in his eyes. And you do the same, because right now, it’s just the two of you, alone. The outside world is peaceful, bright, and happy. It’s not the buildings of Coruscant, or the halls of the barracks. It’s where you wish you could take him, keep him safe and enveloped in your love for the rest of his life.

“So handsome,” you say softly after a few minutes, trailing your hand down his cheek, and he gives a small chuckle.

“Handsome? That’s what you say after I cum inside you?”

“Mhmm,” you respond, leaning up a bit to kiss his nose. “My handsome Jesse.” He just chuckles again, lowering himself onto you before sneaking his arms around you and rolling over. With you now resting on his chest, he settles back into the bed and lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, and his grip tightens on you.

“You know I would. I would do anything for you. I mean it. If you ask me, I will.”

“But you know I’d never ask you to leave your brothers,” you reply.

“I know.” Now you let out a sigh, glancing at the chronometer on the wall. It’s nearly time to go, and neither of you are ready. But Jesse will be expected back on time, and you don’t want to be the cause of his reprimanding.

“Jesse, we need to get up,” you say, looking up at him.

“In a few minutes,” he mumbles back, “I need my after-sex cuddles.” You let out an amused huff, resting your head back against his chest.

“Alright, but only for a few minutes,” you say, and he wraps his arms tighter around you, holding you close while you both enjoy each other’s company. Holding you close while you each count down the seconds until you’re separated again, and hoping to be reunited.

Once you separate, you each count down the seconds until you’re reunited. As the war comes to an end, you sit in your home, counting the seconds until you can drag him away, take him somewhere that will never remind him of the battles he suffered through. And as you fly with Rex to the wrecked venator, you count the seconds until you reach Jesse’s helmet-marked grave.

You stop counting when you reach it, falling to your knees. Now, you start counting the tears that fall as you press your hand to the ground. It would never again be just the two of you, alone. You would never be able to take him to live out the rest of his life happily, surrounded by peace.

Where he lay, he wasn’t surrounded by peace. He was surrounded by death, wreckage, the aftermath of the Republic. The one thing he had been forced to dedicate his life to. The one thing that had taken him from you, preventing him from dedicating his life to you.

You’re finally reunited with Jesse, but you don’t get to see him. You never will again.

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