#👀 eye brow slit

[isupportzaynxliamxziam]

Friday, 27 April 2018

Zayn posts a beautiful photo on his Instagram with a clearly visible eye-brow slit

[whateveriwant]

No thoughts, just Punk!Simon.

Punk!Simon who dresses like he shops exclusively at Hot Topic. We're talking band t-shirts, combat boots, leather anything he can get his hands on. His style is bold, accessories maximized, and his entire wardrobe can be condensed into one of three colors: black, gray, and dark gray.

Punk!Simon who likes to wear lots of jewelry. Thick chains, bulky rings, decorative pins pressed into his jackets. His pieces are mostly silver and always real, none of that fake, turn your skin green shit. Keep him far away from metal detectors because he will set them off.

Punk!Simon who listens to only the grungiest of grunge rock music. Ask him for recommendations and he's spouting off six or seven bands that are so underground they may as well reside in the Earth's mantle. Don't leave him in charge of the playlist when driving together unless you want a bad case of tinnitus for the next four hours.

Punk!Simon who’s tatted up to high heaven. You thought he only had his left sleeve done, until you saw him working out without his shirt on one day. Turns out it doesn't just stop at his shoulder, but continues downward, wrapping around his trunk like vines of black and gray ivy.

Punk!Simon who's sporting more than one set of piercings. You ask him how many he has and (with a smirk) he tells you six, and you try to take a mental tally of the ones you've seen. 1) eyebrow 2) industrial 3) nostril 4) snake bites 5) areolas 6) . . . 6) . . . . . Huh. Where's the sixth?

Punk!Simon who experiments with a little body modification. Not just the normal piercings and tattoos, but things many people would consider to be on the more extreme side. Stretched lobes, sharpened canines, . . . bifurcated tongue? 👀

Punk!Simon who, on an uncharacteristically unmasked day, grabs your attention as you enjoy a round of drinks with friends. One minute you were sitting there, chatting, just minding your business, and the next your gaze was locked onto Simon's tongue as it darted out from in between his plump lips. You tried not to let your eyes linger, but you couldn't help it. You'd never seen something like that before in person. A tongue split right down the center, cut with surgical precision from the looks of it. It had clearly been done on purpose, not an accident or deformity, but you hadn't expected to see it as you watched him lick away a bourbon droplet from the corner of his mouth. As you stare, said mouth then curves slyly, impish, into a grin just shy of wicked. The movement makes your eyes dart upwards, where they meet Simon's, and he's giving you a look that says one thing: Caught you.

With that taunting expression, Simon turns in his seat, plants his elbows on the table, and blocks out the rest of your group as he asks lowly, “Somethin’ the matter, sweet’eart?”

His tone makes you startle, eyes rounding in surprise, mouth fluttering open and closed like a flailing fish. “N-No, I was– I– You– I–”

“Wha's wrong?” His brow furrows, teasing. “Cat got your tongue?”

Oh, the bastard.

But the reminder has your gaze dropping back to his lips unthinkingly, almost like you secretly wish he'll grant you another peek for your sick fascination.

He doesn't, keeps that serpentine tongue tucked within the confines of his jaw, but it's like he can read your mind because his smile curves further, drawing even closer to you as he says, “Curious?”

It's like the rattling of a deadly snake's tail, the way he hisses out the question. It means to warn you of danger ahead, of expert predation, of total and utter annihilation should you let him take a bite.

You drag your eyes back up to his smoky ones, half expecting to find slitted pupils that speak of poison. There isn't, just a mirthful quirk to his brow, and a solitary nod is all you can offer him in return.

“‘S alright.” He tips his chin in encouragement. “Go on, then. Ask.”

Another glance to his lips as you rummage through the dense brush that entangles your brain. Plucking one of the first you find, you ask, “Does it hurt?” eyes moving back to his.

That earns a little chuckle from Simon, an even smaller shake of the head. “Not now that it's healed,” he tells you truthfully, cheek dimpled in amusement. A beat passes, him waiting for another of your questions, and when you don't conjure one up, he jokes, “That it?” Clearly, he expected a barrage.

You take a second, searching for another, then simply, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why'd you do it?”

Simon raises his shoulder in a shrug. “Dunno. Wanted to do somethin’ fun; different I s’pose,” his reasoning is as carefree as his voice sounds. He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Plus, ‘s more useful than you think,” he tacks on at the end, something mischievous glinting in his eye. Deception maybe. Bait definitely.

Useful, he says? You doubt it. Having a second tongue sounds like a burden honestly. You'd have to learn how to talk, eat, and drink all over again, just like when you were a small child. But if he said so, and with such confidence, then it begs the question: “How?”

How is having a second tongue useful?

Throughout your entire conversation, Simon's maintained steady eye contact with you, his focus never faltering from yours. But now, as your brow creases in confusion, Simon breaks away, lids lowering as he gazes down at the floor. He rolls a thought around his head for a moment, that cheeky look still etched into his face. When he huffs an amused breath through his nose, it only deepens his smirk that much more, and then slowly, painfully unrushed, his eyes rake up, up, up your body, until settling on yours once again.

The look he gives you now is dark, a grin like the devil’s as he peers up at you. The tip of his forked tongue pokes out as it makes another swipe across his bottom lip.

No thoughts, except for Punk!Simon who takes you back to his place and shows you just how useful two tongues can be.

[kentosbabes]

Can you write something abt a submissive gojoooo??👀

Submissive Gojo

mdi- content; needy gojo, submissive, overstim, dom play, sexual content, oral, p in v, praise kink.

Gojo had a bad day at work, his suit rumpled and his tie hanging limply around his neck like a noose. The under of his eyes were bruised purple and blue. To be honest it worried you, you wanted him to feel good. He was the manager at his work place, staying overtime to oversee the newbies.

You thought to yourself that if you took away the control he needed, he would be able to relax. You voiced your concerns a week ago but he didn’t look any better. You call him over from the living room to the bedroom. Dressed in black lacy lingerie fit for the dominant role you want to play.

He’s eyes widened and he looked ecstatic, throwing his bag and jacket on the floor and jumping on the bed to crawl to you.

A smile planted on his face, you told him to stop, “I don’t want to have to take this panties off, do it for me?” The frantic nodding would’ve made you laugh if you didn’t feel so attracted to how obedient he was being. He pulled the underwater down to your thighs.

Gojo looked up at you from between your legs, his long white hair tickling your inner thighs. Flattening his tongue against your clit refusing to breaking eye contact. You murmur, “such a good boy for me.” The words of praise seemed to coax him on—he groaned into you, sucking and teasing your swollen bud while he moved along your slit. Gojo moaned into you, sucking on your clit while two fingers rejoined the effort to please you and slid back into your cunt. 

You pulled away, again this wasn’t for you. You wanted to make him feel good after his bad bad day.

You reached down to caress his already rock-hard cock. You held your hand out under his chin and said, “Spit.”

Coxing his trousers off and his Calvin Kline boxers off, his manhood looked tall and proud. A little red from the rubbing and humping from the mattress. Kissing the side of him, kitten licks to tease him. The sounds of him whimpering and his head lolling back with explicit words falling from his wet and plush lips. It sounded lewd and looked lewd.

You worked your tongue against the tip of Gojo’s cock, pressing it just under the head, something that sent a flood of sensation through him, made him buck up helplessly against your mouth.

You gave a low, appreciative noise around him, the humming sent vibrations and shudders of pleasure through him that really didn't help things, your nimble fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, stroking him slowly.

“You’re such a good boy aren’t you, hm?”

His brows were furrowed and knitted together so tightly he almost looked angry. But through that expression, you could see the pure pleasure you were delivering to him. You released his cock with an overly accentuated pop, before lapping several long streaks along Gojo’s endless length.

“God, you’re so hard, Gojo.” You drag your hand down his length as he thrusts into your palm.

You looked up, pausing your miscreants and kissed him hard on his lips. You grunted and moaned in each other’s mouths, until Gojo threw his head back, arching his back.

He whined in your lips, “I’ll be a good boy for you. Just let me fuck you.” You began to lift yourself up and down on Gojo’s length.

He feels larger, thicker. He can feel your walls fluttering, eagerly sucking him in, all the way down to the hilt.

On his moan, you sat down and let him thrust deeper and deeper into your core, parting you roughly each time got up and sat down on his cock. He pulled in and out, you forced his cock back in.

Gojo stilled inside of you while you clenched around him as his come spurted into you, even though it takes the very last of his strength to do it, sore from your ordeal.

“M’ cumming, please, ah,” he whispered as he tried to catch his breath, you felt him quicken his thrusts until he was head down in her neck and pumping into you so hard that the bed was clattering against the wall.

“You can take it, don’t worry Gojo.” You moan in his ear, sending goosebumps down his spine.

At his third orgasm Gojo was crying, couldn’t help it, sobbing and trying to curl around the ache suffusing his entire body. His thighs burn, he’s sweaty and sticky with come.

“You’re such a good boy for this, do you want more?”

Whimpering like a fucking puppy as his cock buried into you. Helpless pleas and whimpers of your name tumbled from his mouth like a prayer. Reverent.

“Y-yeah please,” he whimpered, tears streaked his face and his red and bitten lips looked so inviting.

You took his lips, holding his throat in your dainty hand. He smiles against your lips. Your hands slide up his chest to wrap around his neck, hungrily pulling him closer for more contact.

“So needy...” You mumble.

He lets out a shaky sigh as you guide the tip of his cock towards your entrance again. He buries his dick deep within your cunt, stilling inside you, twitching.

“M’ gonna cum again, please- ah,” He whimpered, actually fucking whimpered. He pushed your clit just right, sending you overboard. You felt your legs tense and your toes curl in a familiar way. Gojo looked absolutely delicious, looking sweaty and tousled- catching his plush bottom lip with his teeth to stifle the noise he was making. He was frustrated and on verge of tearing up.

Managing to stutter out, " 'm sorry, ok 'm sorry, I'll be good I promise." You tsked placing your hand on his cheek and cupping his face. “Oh all right, one more and then we’re done, don’t worry, you can do this babe.”

[automaticllamacycle]

giving him head smut? 👀

I had such a blast writing this. It's set in the coffee shop au because of course it is. I hope this is good because I am a bit nervy about posting it !

Content: 18+, this is literally just giving head

Word count: 1440

Matty is on you the second you’re in the door of his apartment. He quickly discards his keys to the floor before pressing you against the door. His lips meet yours, tongue sliding into your mouth.

The kiss is messy. His teeth nibble at your bottom lip, drawing a gasp from you. One of his hands rest at the base of your neck, wrapping around it. The pressure of his fingertips into your skin is light, but it’s enough to make you dizzy. Blood rushes through your veins. You grind your hips into him, desperate for friction. He’s been hard since the minute he pressed you against the door, straining through his jeans.

There’s one thing you haven’t done with him so far. The thought of it has been on your mind for days now. You wanted to make him come with your mouth. Simple as that. You can imagine the way his hands would wrap in your hair. How his head would fall back while groans sound from his throat. Breathless, gravely sounds would leave his mouth as he would struggle not fuck your mouth. His size would gag you easy. You need him. Now.

“Matty,” you break the kiss, breathless. “I want you.” He’s in the middle of taking off his shirt when he responds.

“Let’s go to the bedroom. Been thinking about you being under me all night long.” He smiles, looking you over. Your face is tinged pink, framed by your messy hair. You move your hand to rest over the bulge in his jeans.

“Can I suck you off? Want to make you feel good like you make me feel.” You press your palm into him, and his mouth falls open, moaning at the pressure. The sound is music to your ears.

“You already make me feel good, darling. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” His eyes say a different story, though. His pupils are blown wide. He’s thought about you on your knees for him for months. He’s jacked off to the image of your lips wrapped around him more times than he’d care to admit.

You sink to your knees in front of him, holding eye contact. “I really want to. Been thinking about it a lot. Just don’t know exactly what to do.”

“I’ll talk you through it, yeah? Think you can listen and be a good girl for me?”

“Mhm. Wanna do well.”

“You’ll do perfect.” You stare up at him for a moment before continuing. Your hands reach the button of his jeans, and your eyes look up at him for approval. Matty offers it immediately, nodding his head rapidly in response. When his jeans are on the floor, you’re face to face with the hard length under his boxers. You move without his instructions, mouthing at the spot of precum on his boxers. You press your tongue flat against the fabric, tracing the shape underneath. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re already a natural.” Matty’s voice croaks out. His breathing becomes more rapid. A flush paints over his chest and cheeks as sweat forms at his brow. He can’t handle the teasing anymore. “Take my cock out.” The phrase is blunt, laced with lust.

You listen, sliding your fingertips underneath the waist band of his boxers to pull them down. Without thinking, you press a kiss to the rose tattoo on his hip. Your lips linger on the skin before you pull back to look at his face, still unsure of yourself.

“What do I do now?” you ask.

“Wrap your hand around it, just like I’ve shown you before.” Your hand moves to collect the precum at his tip before holding the base of his cock, stroking it slowly. “Good girl. Now just use that pretty mouth of yours. Don’t worry about taking me deep. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Your hand strokes him a few more times before you trace your tongue on the underside of his shaft, circling his tip. “Shit—” Matty sucks in a sharp breath. His gaze locks onto you while you continue to lick at the tip, tongue dipping into the slit.

As you begin to take him further into your mouth, your hair falls all over the place. You ignore it, continuing to sink down on his cock until half of it is in your mouth. Fueled by the strangled sounds coming from his mouth, you start to bob your head slowly, trying not to take too much at once.

“Can I hold you hair for you, love? I promise I won’t force your head down. Just want to see your pretty face.” Matty asks. His lips look nearly raw, likely from trying to hold his moans back.

You remove his cock from your mouth to answer him. Spit falls down your chin, dripping onto your shirt. It’s messy. It takes everything in Matty not to groan at the sight.

“Yeah of course,” your voice breathes out. Matty’s quickly moves his hands to gather your hair into a makeshift ponytail behind your head, keeping it out of the way. Now he can see you clearly. Nothing keeping him from seeing your lips stretched around him. “Am I doing okay? Is there anything else I should be doing?” you ask before you take him in your mouth again.

“You’re doing so good, sweet girl. Perfect for me. But uh—“he pauses, breathless. Words aren’t coming to him easy. “Hollow your cheeks a bit. The suction feels really good.” This time when you sink onto his cock, you hollow in your cheeks as you bob your head, pressing your tongue on the underside of his shaft. “Fuck baby. Just like that shit—“ he moans. He looks down as you take him in. Your lips stretch around his cock, and drool drips out of the side of your mouth. It’s completely erotic. Matty can’t help but tighten his grip on your hair as he tries to commit the image to memory.

You catch him off guard when you don’t continue the shallow bobbing you’ve been doing. Instead, you take his cock as deep into your mouth as possible, gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Matty’s hips jolt forward at the feeling of your throat constricting around him. A loud, raw groan leaves his mouth as his head falls back. His hand as a reflex pushes your head farther down onto him. You shift your eyes upwards, watching as the pleasure engulfs him. He's only holding your head down for a second before he realizes what he’s doing. “Shit sorry, didn’t mean to do that.” He says, snapping his head back down to look into your eyes. You moan around his cock, increasing the speed you take him in your mouth. You alternate between quick bobs of your head and taking him in until you gag.

His deep groans begin to turn into desperate whines as he gets closer to his climax. You can feel the way his cock starts to throb in your mouth. He’s close. He only needs a little bit more. You pay attention to the tip of his cock, hollowing in your cheeks while running your tongue along the base. With your hands, you stroke his shaft. Matty’s hips buck into your mouth, whimpers leaving his mouth. “Baby I’m gonna come—” he manages to say. His hand goes to try and pull your head back so he doesn’t come in your mouth, but you don’t let him. Instead, you let a loud moan leave your throat as you take him into your mouth as far as you can. In an instant, his head falls back as a choked sound leaves his throat, and he spills into your mouth, grinding his hips gently as he rides out the high. You take your mouth off of him when his hips finally slow down. “Fuck, that was good. Such a good girl for me.” Matty says as he runs his hand through your hair lovingly. “Let me get you a cup so you don’t have to swallow—”

Before he can even finish the sentence, you swallow. Almost as if to prove it to him, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue, showing you swallowed every bit of it. His eyes darken at your actions. “No worries. I took care of it.” A smile runs across your face when you see the effect you have on him. Matty leans down and suddenly picks you up in his arms, walking towards the bedroom.

“Come on. Wasn’t joking when I said I wanted to see you under me.”

[bigdumbbambieyes]

unsafe requests huh mmm something outside? 👀 steve loving on billy hours pls 🥺👉👈💖

ofc babe!! here you are 🤍

it’s the time after spring and before summer and steve’s behind the arcade, pressing his boyfriend into the wall there, cigarettes forgotten at their feet.

it’s stupid, to do this. especially in the daylight. but, with billy looking at him like that, all blue eyes and a blond curl on his forehead, his mouth wrapped around a filter - steve couldn’t resist.

sliding his mouth against billy’s, breathing a moan into it like it’s the only air his boyfriend needs, clutching at his shoulders with cramping fingers as billy licks into his mouth, wet and hot and demanding, like he always is.

drowning in the scent of him, his cologne and the cigarette smoke and mint gum. the touch and feel of his body through rough denim and a thin shirt, the way their hearts beat together in time where their chests are touching.

god, he loves billy so much he could fucking die.

he pulls away, just a little, and grins as billy eagerly follows him, desperate to keep their lips locked for as long as he can.

“slow down,” steve murmurs, sliding his hand down billy’s back and further to the swell of his ass, gripping it through his jeans, “lemme just…love on you, okay?”

billy huffs in annoyance, but he looks willing so he concedes easily, going soft and pliant, ready to let steve do as he pleases.

and he does. sliding his mouth across billy’s jaw and neck, steve mumbles sweet things to his sweet thing, kisses that sensitive spot on billy’s neck just to hear the soft sounds he makes. he can feel the heat of billy’s face as he presses a kiss to the blond’s cheek, peppering his lips down to that mustache and then to his lips — coaxing billy’s tongue into his mouth again with a gentle suck.

his hand smoothes to the front of billy’s jeans, rubs at the firm shape there, murmurs hotly, “this for me?”

billy nods, his brows furrowing as he ruts his hips into steve’s hand.

“want me to make you cum?” steve whispers, licking across those full lips.

the little whine his boyfriend gives tells him ‘yes’.

he’s quick about it, tugging billy’s jeans open as he kisses him, sliding his hand into the blond’s pants to feel him there, slick and sticky already.

steve can’t help it, he moans, “slut,” into billy’s mouth and grins at the choked moan he receives in return.

“so sweet for me,” he murmurs, ducking his head to kiss at billy’s neck again because he wants to hear every little sound he makes, “love you so much, baby, just wanna make you feel good all the time…”

“you do,” billy whispers shakily, his eyes half-lidded as steve strokes him up and down, slowly.

he gives billy a look, thumbs over the slit at the tip of his boyfriend’s cock, “you’re not lying?”

billy shakes his head ‘no’ and keens, staring straight into his eyes.

“fuck, you look so good,” steve sighs, kissing billy so sweet and chaste, as if he weren’t giving him a filthy handjob behind the arcade, the sound of his hand so loud now, “so gorgeous, billy, so amazing…”

“jesus — shut up,” billy whispers, his cheeks burning red and his eyes wet, overwhelmed by the emotions steve is making him feel.

“no,” steve hums, “maybe i’ll tell you every sappy thought i’ve ever had about you and you’re gonna cum from it.”

“you’re the worst.”

“i don’t think your dick got the memo, baby.” steve smirks, lifts his other hand from billy’s hip to suck his finger into his mouth, watching billy watch him, his boyfriend all but falling into a trace.

he shoves that finger down into the back of billy’s pants, smoothes the wetness across his hole, murmurs heatedly, “you’d probably let me finger you against this wall if i asked.”

it sets billy off almost instantly, his face scrunching in pleasure as his jaw drops, a filthy little moan leaving his lips as he cums all over steve’s hand, rocking back against that teasing finger and the tight grip of his hand.

steve can’t help it, he kisses billy through it and sighs, “such a good boy for me, angel.” into his mouth.

billy can barely stand up, but steve’s got him. he tucks billy back into his pants and kisses him again, because he can’t get enough.

and when he feels billy’s thigh forcing itself between his own, his dick pressing against a muscled thigh perfectly, steve knows the praise and love is far from over.

[mr-hanjisung]

SNEAK PEEK OF "Under the Influence"

PAIRING: Bangchan x fem!reader

GENRE: 💋(👀)

WORD COUNT: 669

Rahhh, sorry this is taking so long but here's another sneak peak!!

This is not proofread! A part of the Choose Wisely - Mafia Series!

To find the full post and series, keep updated with my main blog! @jisunghannie

“You're awake.” A familiar voice said, as you turned to look at who said it. It was Chan. “I have a different proposal for you.” He said, looking at the rainfall hitting the glass window. He was in a black robe, his wavy curls, wet and tight, his posture, stern yet relaxed, as he held his wine glass.

“You see,” He turned to face you, “I have to go to this mafia party. I have to bring my crew along with…” He looked repulsed for a minute and looked away, “My spouse.” He said as he walked closer to you. “The lady who was originally my pretend wife canceled on me because she didn't like the atmosphere and I told her simply to pay me back the prices that I spent on her as my “wife”. Yet she didn't.” He said, taking his seat, “What a shame to her.” He said as he shook his head.

“What are you trying to say?” You asked bluntly as he chuckled. “For your debt to be paid in full, you just have to pretend to be my wife. Of course, being a mobster's wife is dangerous but…” He then got up and stood in front of you, lifting your chin up to face him. “You’ll do perfectly.” He said as you pushed his hand away. “If you think I'll take this damn offer you got another thing coming Chan.” You said standing up as he gazed into your eyes. “Do you, really, wanna continue and go there y/n?” He asked, this time even closer to you.

If he were to get any closer, you would've been skin to skin with him. Touching his arms and possibly entangled with a kiss. And maybe even-

“That's what I thought.” He said cutting off your train of thought. “I'll see you tonight jagi.” He said, kissing your cheek. “Here's my card, go buy the perfect dress, make sure it has a slit.” He told you as you side-eyed him. “Why specifically a slit in the dress?” You asked. “For the sex appeal?” You retorted as he chuckled. “Full of jokes, are we now?” He smiled, “No, it's so if in any case we need to defend ourselves.” He said as he kissed your left hand, looking at it, “Go get a ring. Make sure the ring looks expensive.” He said as he released your hand and left. You fell back onto the couch, leaving your legs feeling like jelly.

You went with Jisung and Jeongin. Why them out of all people? Jisung and Jeongin looked innocent and sweet. Jisung was a great actor and could get a cheaper or even free deal for an item as Jeongin was great at passive-aggressive intimidation to scare people into getting things you wanted. Was it wrong to choose them for your benefit? A little, but you weren’t complaining. You saw the most perfect dress, and of course, another girl wanted the dress.

“Hey, I actually wanted to buy this dress.” You told her blatantly as she gave you an ugly look. “Look, I’m not in a good mood and I really don’t want to be tested today.” She said, snapping her fingers, bringing two men to her side, looking like bodyguards. “Do you even know who I am?” She asked you as you laughed, “Bitch.” You said, snapping your fingers as Jisung and Jeongin walked by you and stood by your side, staring her and her bodyguards down. “Do you know who I am?” You asked as she furrowed her brows, walking off. “You’ll regret this mobster.” She spat, walking away.

You exhaled deeply, not believing what you just did, as Jisung and Jeongin looked at you and smiled. “That was certainly something. You sounded like a mobster's wife or daughter for sure.” Jisung said, “Maybe even a mobster itself.” Jeongin said as you shook your head. “Anyway, let's just buy this dress and go look at rings.” You told them as they nodded, following you along.

[muffinsin]

those two hurt/comfort and hurt no comfort were so well written like the rest of your other stories, so my request is, the sisters partner dies but the sisters are able to revive her with the cadou, how clingy would the sisters be?

Very glad to hear you like the other posts! :) this is an interesting concept!👀 needless to say, all three are CLINGY!

Let’s get into the details! ;)

Masterlist 1

Masterlist 2

Bela

Golden eyes stare widely at you when you enter the room

Bela doesn’t move, no, doesn’t even breathe. She just eyes you

Her brows furrow and her eyes thin to mere slits

You gulp

Bela ignores Cassandra’s proud words of the cadou implant having worked perfectly

She continues to eye you dangerously, taking in your slightly changed appearance

You’re taller due to the cadou, and your skin looks a little sickish

She immediately finds the scars on your flesh caused at your death

You gasp when she pushes past you, bumping into your shoulder roughly

Now, she is happy you’re back, but isn’t quite sure you’re hers again. She is cautious around you, on edge

It takes a little while for her to warm up to you again, to get used to your enhanced scent and new abilities

She grieved for you…Bela didn’t expect the cadou implant to bring you back to life. Seeing you walk about is a shock to her

When she at last mentally registers that this creature is you, she is as if glued to your side

She will demand all of your attention and not leave your side

She develops a heavy separation anxiety, the trauma of losing you fresh in her mind. The trauma of not being able to save you. Even if you have been saved in the end

Should she not see you, she panics. She can barely stand the short amount of time without you when you use the bathroom

She demands baths and showers to be taken with her, and if not Bela herself, you will always have some of her flies trailing behind you

She insists on sleeping on top of you. She doesn’t want anything to happen to you again

Soon, this separation anxiety of hers becomes a problem

She can’t eat or sleep without you, much less work or feel at ease when you aren’t around

The poor thing is completely scarred from losing you

When after 2 weeks there is no improvement in sight, you at last find ways to ease her stress and anxiety

Upon picking up fighting lessons from Cassandra, and being trained as you explore your new cadou-granted abilities, Bela feels a little more at ease even without you around

Knowing you can now defend yourself without her helps

After two more weeks, you are able to distance yourself a little, take baths and strolls through the garden without her

Bela can even work normally, although she will often send flies to check on you. Her favourite thing is to have you in the room with her, still. Just to ensure your safety

At last, in time, her anxiety reduces and is replaced by her typical clinginess consisting of secret, shy cuddles in her bed and sneaky kisses, hands held under the table and when the two of you share private moments

Cassandra

She spends day and night attempting to bring you back. Not resting, not eating, certainly not taking a break

When your eyelids open at last, she is startled

Before you know it, you feel strong arms around you and sharp nails digging into your sore shoulders

You’d complain, but allow the small pain when you hear sobs against your neck

This, and at your death, is perhaps the only time Cassandra ever cries

She can’t believe you’re back

She doesn’t care you are still on the surgery table, instead straddles you and completely wraps herself around you, inhaling your new scent

She smells the old, familiar one still underneath and it comforts her

Despite her typical facade of strength and toughness, Cassandra allows herself to be vulnerable with you now, alone in the basement with screams echoing in the distance

She isn’t one for words, but her trembling limbs and shaking shoulders, wet tears and broken cries and whimpers tell you all you need to know

With an arm around her back, and another hand in her hair, Cassandra eventually calms down

When she does, her gaze hardens and she punches your shoulder. “Don’t ever scare me like that again!”, she scolds angrily

She’s so relieved to have you back, even as you stare daggers at her for injuring your sore shoulder slightly.

She finds it adorable

Cassandra dislikes the thought of leaving your side in the first week of your return

She will stick close to you and snarl at any maiden and creature stepping too close to her beloved

Additionally, she insists you learn how to fight properly. Whether you want this or not, you are given lessons on how to defend yourself against all kinds of enemies

Lycans, most of all,

But also humans, wolfs, bears

She allows you to pick a weapon of your choice. She secretly loves training with you

She is very clingy for some time, although grants you your own space

When with her, in private, she will silently demand many cuddles and not once let go of your hand

She too sleeps on top of you, protecting your body from potential intruders, as well as to hear your heartbeat

Sometimes she still needs to remind herself this is real

Now this is quite random, but accurate: there is a lot of sex happening

She craves closeness and doesn’t want to show it, and what better way is there to be close to you than sex?

Aside from this eagerness- craving- to be close to you, Cassandra finds herself also ridiculously turned on from the effects of your transformation

One of them being the enhanced strength all with the cadou inside of them share

She will absolutely ask you to take advantage of this strength ;)

Daniela

She is OVER THE MOON!

The moment her golden eyes set on you, they widen

You barely have a moment to brace yourself before she swarms over and you feel her body clashing against yours as she jumps into your arms!

Her arms and legs wrap around you instantly, her lips on yours

She’s missed you so much! It was agony!

For the first few hours, Daniela and you are inseparable. She won’t want to let go of your hand, even goes as far as to whine when you gently tear her hand away to use the bathroom

From the outside you hear her claws against the door and her pitiful whines for you

She will spend all day catching you up and reading with you, and most importantly: cuddling

Then, when night comes, the storm brews

Just at night, when you two are in bed, her head jerks up, golden eyes staring widely and in fear

She refuses to touch you, and won’t tell you what’s wrong when her eyes water and thick tears roll down her cheeks out of the sudden

After much sobbing and scooting away from you, so far she ends up curled in the corner of her room, words pass her lips and she begins to explain

Daniela fears you aren’t real, merely a tool conjured by her, at times, delusional mind

You prove her wrong by effortlessly picking her up and holding her close to you. She is impressed at your strength

With your scent surrounding her and your arms tight around her, she calms again after an hour or so

She will still poke you occasionally

Daniela is the first sister to ask you to try the taste of your cadou-infected blood

She too insists you learn how to fight. This is not up to debate- she will not lose you again

Together with Cassandra, you are taught to be fast and strong

It is ensured you can never be taken down by a lycan again, and still Daniela promises to keep you safe with her life

As days pass, there is barely a reminder of your death. Barely;

If it wasn’t for Daniela’s ruthless nightmares that plague her sweet mind nearly all night every day

At times you find her clenching your shirt between her fingers as she sobs in her sleep

At other times the poor thing is shaking in your arms, barely awake with her cheeks wet

And at other times, you hear her rasp out your name between her cries

Thankfully, you know how to fix these awful moments for her

With her claws dug into your shirt to keep herself close, Daniela calms down quickly once you pull her tight against you and spoon her, arms wrapped around her tightly

She is the only sister to still blame herself for your death even as you return to her, for days, until you hear of this and reassure her plenty

[bookshelf-dust]

Billy thought #1024: Him looking at you like this ‘cause he knows it drives you crazy, but he doesn’t move in for the kiss because he wants to see how long it’ll take you to finally grab him by the back of his neck and do it yourself. And when you both separate, he has an even cockier grin on his face until he pulls you in for more.👀

literally why would you do this to me i need to go to sleep and i’m laying here staring at him—

he corners you to do this shit all. the. fucking. time. maybe he went outside to get the mail and when he comes back in, you’re in the kitchen. he presses you against the counter and puts his arms on either side of you and has that fucking look on his face. he just looks at you, never breaking eye contact—and he’s so good at eye contact it makes you sweat—and he waits.

you scan his face: the soft creases in his forehead and between his brows, the slit in the one eyebrow where the hair is starting to grow back because he hasn’t touched it up recently, his freckles, his pretty nose, and eventually you make it down to his lips, and that’s when you give in. your fingers slip into his hair and yank him towards you, and he’s laughing. god, he’s laughing into the kiss because he’s won. he got what he wanted. you. and you pull him back by his hair (which he likes), and he’s got that stupid ass grin and all you wanna do is kiss it off.

bonus thought: the time you don’t give in. he’s got you right where he wants you and he’s waiting and waiting. you keep looking at him, but this time you don’t feel like playing his game. so you turn to walk away and he pouts. he’s grumpy because you haven’t kissed him and so he catches your wrist before you go, pulling you into his chest and pressing his lips to yours, both hands on your face. that time it’s you with the stupid ass grin.

[bucknastysbabe]

sluttily asking for the bondage bingo space with sub!aegon / dom!wife (possibly chubby aegon if u want 👀 )

this boy needs to be tied up and used and i stand by that!

Soft little angy baby gets TIED UP and USED.

Kink Bingo - Bondage

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Chubby!Aegon, Wife!Reader, Bondage/shibari, femdom, pnv!sex, whole lotta teasing, Aegon being a whiny little sub it’s par for the course

She grinned and tightened the pretty silk ribbons on Aegon’s wrists. She wouldn’t tell her husband where she picked up the new trick much to the prince’s annoyance. His wife actually had learned the knots from a whorehouse on the Street of Silk. There had been a woman from Yi Ti eager to show the princess how to render your partner immobile with rope, for a pretty price of course.

The ribbons went up his trembling arms and circled around the soft flesh on Aegon’s abdomen. He remained quiet, emitting a soft noise now and then. His legs were pulled up, exposing everything to the candlelight. She ran a curious hand up the ties, lips curled into a haughty smirk. She asked softly, “Is it too tight sweetling?”

He shook his head no, wide eyes boring into her own. She was pretty sure Aegon was too horny to verbalize anything, tongue twisted and thick. The woman pinched at the chubby roll on his hip, looking puffier when constricted by the silk. He shook his head, whining, “St- stop.”

“Why?”

She moved her probing digits to his soft belly next. Aegon’s pathetic look morphed into a glare. He knew what she was playing at. The prince mumbled, “I’ve gotten stout m’quite aware.” He now averted his violet eyes, full cheeks flushing up nicely.

The woman didn’t move her hand, thoroughly pleased at his reaction. She hummed, “Too much wine,” a hand came down on his ass, “I do like this though.” Aegon yelped at the slap, jerking in the bonds, blushing harder at the feeling of his ass wobbling. He sucked in a breath, somehow fuming and turned on simultaneously.

She breathed against his twitching rear, “Plump little princeling.”

He had no clue what his wife was even planning. It seemed like she just wanted to tie him up and jest at his body. Which down deep, the prince would not mind. She giggled, “Do you think you can roll over?” Aegon frowned, eyeing her angrily. She laughed harder and roughly rolled the blonde over, him protesting in annoyance.

He stared up at her seated between his pale thighs. She stroked the soft flesh and eyed Aegon’s cock, hard against his belly. His wife grinned but her voice was stern, “Do you want me to fuck you or do you want to pout here for an hour?”

Shit.

Aegon shook his head vigorously, loose pale curls bouncing. His hands twitched in their bonds between them. She raised a brow, Aegon begging, “No, no sweetheart I’ll be happy, please?”

“Good answer,” she replied while climbing on top of his hips. Aegon’s purple orbs achingly watched her breasts jiggle while she rubbed the sensitive tip of his cock against her wet slit. The prince threw his head back and moaned, long and pained. She laughed, “There’s my Aegon, always so needy for me.”

“Ah- please,” he begged again.

His wife slid down on his member with a cry, eyes sparkling and teeth glinting. He fought to move but couldn’t, moaning pathetically at the sensation. He would only lie here and take what his wife gave. A whimper slid from Aegon’s lips at the thought. She didn’t waste any time, bracing palms on his supple chest.

He moaned and called her name, unable to decide if he wanted to watch her tits or flexing thighs. The princess bounced eagerly, the lurid sounds of her cunt swallowing him up filling the room. She hissed lowly, “Slutty little prince, doing what I want,” she slammed down with a cry, “When I want.” Aegon’s lips trembled at her words.

She rambled on breathlessly, “All I have to do is ask you’re already showing me your neck and soft belly.” The woman pinched his stomach for effect, leaning forward with a gasp. Aegon whimpered, “Fuck- ffuck, kiss me?” Her lips hovered over his, the blonde eagerly trying to seal their mouths.

His wife kept the smallest distance, giggling while she teased him. Aegon whined in a sad manner, putting on his best kicked puppy eyes. She cooed softly and nipped his full bottom lip before slotting their mouths together, hips never missing a beat.

He whimpered, “I’ll do ah-anything for you!”

One of her hands wrapped into his hair, giving a rough tug. She hummed, “I know, sweet princeling.” Her cunt twitched around Aegon’s cock, sending a shiver wracking down his legs. He gasped and cried her name again. The princess slid a hand between her legs, circling her button.

“Too bad you’re too pathetic to touch me right,” she said.

He shook his head, pussy drunk mind trying to wrap around his wife’s words. Aegon was tied up, he couldn’t touch her right now, right? Digits brutally pinched his cheek, her voice snapping, “Silly thing, I’m only joking. You actually thought I was being serious?” Aegon mewled nonsense in embarrassment, cheeks cherry red. She rolled pretty eyes and went back to chasing her own pleasure, ignoring the prince.

His needy whimpering eventually brought her from the trance. She yanked his hair and groaned, “What, slut?” Aegon could feel himself throbbing, way too close to the edge too soon. He a managed a little ‘close!’, tears welling up while he was thoroughly used.

She made a exaggerated frown, cooing, “I guess I’ll have to speed up then because you’re a fucking needy puppy.” She rode his cock harder, fingers swirling in her slick, other hand curled in Aegon’s sweaty hair. The princess was beginning to lose composure, rambling out insults and throaty moans.

Aegon was holding back as best he could, clenching his jaw at her tightening cunt. She grew tighter and tighter, climbing to that precipice. His wife fell a bit forward with a shrill whine, gasping and writhing while she milked Aegon’s cock. To which the prince promptly came with a high noise of his own— shaking violently as he pumped her full of his seed.

They moaned into eachother’s lax lips, pressed together. She rasped, “That was perfect.” Aegon failed to shimmy away when he felt the woman groping his padded hips, again. His other half chided, “Until I untie you, your body and cock belongs to me.” He nodded obediently, teeth digging into his wet bottom lip. She wasn’t done with him yet it seemed.

[isupportzaynxliamxziam]

✒ Sunday, 13 November 2022

Liam's in Italy and it's obviously a stunt trip as they get spotted a lot by 'random' people

They even pose together and of course she posts the picture on her Instagram

While some see a loved up couple 😖 all I see is an eye brow slit and Zayn's eye tattood and a gorgeous looking Liam of course 😍

[thana-topsy]

35

Ancano X Savos Aren? 👀

EXCELLENT suggestion. Thank you for this one.

---

Ancano x Savos Aren "A kiss to gain something." (1077 words)

“I’m sorry, but the answer is still no.” 

Ancano lifted a brow as he took a sip of wine, gazing half-lidded over the brim of his cup. He dabbed his lips on the back of his glove and offered a delicate shrug in response. “I understand, Arch-Mage. My apologies for… haranguing you.”

They sat opposite each other in Savos Aren’s quarters, a bottle of Firebrand wine between them (Ancano’s gift), barely touched. Aren wore a look of pinched suspicion, which Ancano supposed was fair. He hadn’t really made an attempt at being pleasant thus far, but supposed after two months living at this wretched college that he might as well make an attempt to forge a connection. At least superficially. 

More than connection, however, he wanted access to Saarthal.

“You have to understand it from my perspective,” Aren continued, gazing curiously into his own wine cup. It’s not poisoned, Ancano wanted to say. “We already walk a delicate tightrope with the locals. Allowing a Thalmor agent to enter a revered Nordic crypt—especially considering the history of said crypt—it would shine unwanted attention on the College. We are neutral in this conflict, and many might see it as–”

“I might remind you that the Thalmor are also neutral in this conflict, Arch-Mage. Our presence in Skyrim, as with any other country under the Empire’s rule, is simply to enforce order and aid in upholding the agreements of the Concordat. I might also add that I am not a Justiciar. I am not here to root out Talos worship, though it is my duty to report it.” He paused, taking another sip of wine, letting his words linger. “But it is not my main concern. My role here is to act as an advisor and ambassador to you, Arch-Mage. And staying abreast of the College’s curriculum, including all relevant expeditions, is my concern.”

At long last, Aren took a sip of his own wine. He made a pleased noise, then picked up the bottle to inspect the label. “Quite nice.”

Ancano nodded, tilting his cup in Aren’s direction in silent cheers.

Aren sat back in his chair with a sigh, pushing the hood from his head. His long, black hair was streaked gray and pulled back into a low tail. His features were severe, even for a dark elf: high cheekbones and hollow cheeks, his deep red eyes slitted like a fox. The point of his beard only served to make his face appear far too long and narrow. Ancano always found the dark elves to have an unnatural, uncanny appearance to them—Daedra-cursed through and through—and rarely did he find himself in such close quarters with one. He couldn’t help but stare. 

“You were a student at this college once, correct?” Ancano asked. 

“Yes,” Aren answered, his nervousness returning. 

“What was your area of study?” 

He seemed to relax marginally. “Oh, well, I had a variety of projects in my time. This was close to a century ago, mind you, but–”

And he was off, jabbering away about various lines of research and artifact recovery. No wonder he’d initiated the Saarthal expedition. Savos Aren seemed particularly fascinated with what basically amounted to grave robbing. Ancano smiled into his wine. 

“What’s so funny?” Aren asked. 

“Funny? No no, you mistake me. I simply find your… enthusiasm to be charming.” 

An indigo flush crept up Aren’s neck and darkened his cheeks. He took a sip of his own wine and averted his fox-like eyes. 

Ancano made a mental note of the reaction. “Please continue,” he urged. “And let me–” He reached forward to lift the wine bottle, motioning for Aren to hold out his cup to be refilled. 

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Arch-Mage.” 

He listened patiently as the Dunmer continued to ramble, Aren's shoulders becoming looser, his gesticulations more enthusiastic. Ancano continued to fill Aren’s wine cup when it ran low.

“And I just feel it; a mage’s intuition, if you will. There’s a missing piece to the puzzle in Saarthal. Why would our ancient brethren risk it all otherwise? The Nords dug too deep, I say. They found something that they shouldn’t have. Something worth fighting for. I just know it.”

Ancano’s entire body blazed with victory, satisfaction curling in the pit of his stomach. He hid his excitement behind a placid smile. “You’ve dared to do what many have not. And for that, I commend you. I have no doubt your efforts will prove to be most fruitful.”

“I appreciate you saying so,” said Aren. “And thank you for the wine. It’s been most delicious.”

“Of course.” Ancano rose to his feet, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck. “I believe I must retire for the evening. It’s grown late.” 

Aren got to his feet as well. “Ah, I’ve rambled on for so long. My apologies.”

“No need to apologize. I inquired, after all.”

Aren’s gaze was slightly unfocused—dulled from the wine and lulled by the companionable conversation—yet his gaze lingered on Ancano’s face for a moment too long. “If–” he began, then seemed to second guess himself. 

Ancano relaxed his posture, crossing his hands patiently in front of his waist, waiting. 

“I might accompany you to Saarthal, if you’d still like. Though the excavation has only just begun, I can show you our progress. If–” He gestured to Ancano’s robes. “–only if you promise to wear something a little less… flashy.” 

Ancano laughed, and to his own surprise it was a more genuine laugh than he intended. He cleared his throat and regained his composure. “I believe that’s a fair request.” 

Final play. Are you so sure of yourself? 

Yes, he answered his own query. 

Ancano was young by Altmeri standards, but he had grown up among politicians and kinsmen, breast-fed on the social dalliances of subterfuge and subtle manipulation. He knew the signs. He knew the game. 

Aren smiled a little too genuinely, and Ancano offered a slight bow in return, crossing his hands behind his back. 

“I would be honored, Arch-Mage.” Then, stepping forward, he leaned into Aren’s space, tilting his head to place a soft kiss against the dark elf’s cheek. 

Aren sucked in a breath, but otherwise remained stock still as Ancano’s lips lingered. 

Then, Acano stepped away with another bow, passing the gesture off as Altmeri formalities. “I eagerly await your invitation.”

“Very good,” Aren said distantly. 

Ancano’s smile felt razor-sharp on his lips. “And I’ll make sure to dress for the occasion.”

[linksthoughtbrambles]

BRAMBLES CONGRATS ON 500 THATS AMAZINGGG. For my request how about Zelda taking care of a sick Link (any zelink, maybe even shink👀)

No Expectations

An Ocarina of Time one-shot, Shink, rated T, ~3000 words, whump, hurt/comfort though perhaps not in the usual sense, also on ao3.

Sheik stared down at the Hero of Idiocy.

His entire body was one massive, inflamed bruise, his eyes swollen shut, lips split from repeated impacts. He had at least three broken ribs—and a concussion, obviously. If Sheik hadn’t pulled him out of there, he’d have become yet another skeleton adorning the depths of the ancient Shadow Temple, his bones pounded into the earth by hands too cursed to be seen.

He clearly hadn’t seen it – not until the last minute, when he’d almost run out of fight.

Irritating as his fairy was, she should have screamed louder.

‘Hey! Listen!’

Hey, fairy—fly in his pouch and hand him the damn lens if he’s too busy getting pummeled to think of it himself.

Now, Navi flitted nervously about Link’s head.

“Off with you,” Sheik said.

The fairy tinkled.

“He’s bandaged as much as will help and I have the witch’s potions. You hovering won’t help.”

She tinkled again, wavering wildly up and down.

Sheik had the distinct impression he’d been told likewise. “I’m not hovering,” he said. “I’m tending. Now, out. Why don’t you go eat—whatever it is you normally eat.”

That was met with furious, high-pitched buzzing.

Sheik took out a bottle.

Navi spluttered fairy-dust as she whizzed out the open casement.

Sheik smirked. It was the only amusement he felt all day, before or after; getting the viscous red potion down Link’s unconscious throat proved non-trivial, and every time his breathing paused blood roared like forest-fire in Sheik’s ears.

He managed to keep Link’s bandages clean and, thankfully, free of any sign of festering. There was little to be done about the crushing injuries but wait for his body to heal itself—with a little help from water and the medicines, of course. Sheik turned the narrow table in the room into a miniature apothecary and requested broth from the innkeeper with each meal.  He’d be damned if he wouldn’t have something Link could eat the instant he woke.

More than 24 hours later, Sheik stood mincing herbs for a poultice, glowering at the green issuance from the leaves as it stained his fingers.

How could he trust Link to prevail after this? Sheik had held almost entirely back—the sword’s wielder needed to become a true master of his martial craft. He couldn’t be coddled.

Sheik slid the herbs into the mortar with the others and began grinding them into a thick paste with unnecessary viciousness. It smelled delicious, and he glowered harder as a sudden hunger pang hit him.

The pestle ground to a halt when a second, much louder stomach-growl occurred behind him.

Sheik turned to find Link watching with bleary eyes, dark between slits in puffy lids, his swollen lips parted, his expression confused if anything, though difficult to read amid all that distortion.

Anger roiled upward from Sheik’s abdomen and settled as a red heat in his head. It narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose, though his mask hid that part.

“So,” Sheik said. “You’re awake.”

Link licked his lips and winced.

Sheik set the mortar down with deliberate delicacy, held by its rim in his fingertips and released with an exaggerated opening of his full hand. He would not rage at Link. He would make it very very clear Link had screwed up.

“It’s you,” Link said, his voice a pale whisper.

Sheik’s brow pinched.

The hunger growl repeated itself.

Sheik grimaced and reached for the now-lukewarm chicken broth he’d kept lidded. He brought it over, slid an arm beneath Link’s shoulders, and began upward pressure.

Link groaned.

“It won’t be so bad once you’re propped,” Sheik said flatly.

A few groans, gasps, and winces later, Link was upright enough on pillows to sip from the cup. Sheik had been prepared to stop him from drinking too fast, but Link didn’t seem able, anyway. He took so long, Sheik’s shoulder got sore from holding the cup to his lips even though he only managed a quarter of it.

Link leaned his head fully back, neck craning toward the ceiling, his eyes moving as though reading words written there above them.  “Thank you,” he said

Shiek’s nose wrinkled invisibly once more. “You’re…” an idiot… “welcome.”

In two more days, Link could sit up briefly by himself. Sheik fed him and tended to his wounds, but spoke very little, and when he did it was all practicality. He kept catching little snatches of expressions on Link’s face—ones he wiped clear when Sheik would turn fully to face him: his brows pinched—a slight lifting of his cheeks, with no smile—a dusting of red visible despite his bruises—a swallow.

Nerves and confusion, it seemed.

“You’re angry with me,” Link said to Sheik’s back.

All movement in the room ceased.

“It took you this long to figure that out?” Sheik asked matter-of-factly, careful to keep any heat out of his voice.

“No,” Link said. “It took me this long to say it.”

Sheik found himself taking a long, deep breath and sighing, slow, his eyes shut, a stinging sensation beginning in them he tried to crush right out of existence. That would give the game away entirely. He knew what he sounded like when he cried, and it wasn’t what people expected to hear. Even the tears—those weren’t Sheik enough. Impa would be furious with him.

His eyes squeezed further shut.  He shook his head and leaned, both palms flat on the edge of the table.

“Sheik?” Link asked on a quiet, high pitch.

He just shook his damn head.

“I was so glad to see you,” Link said. “When I woke up.”

Sheik turned just enough to side-eye him.

He was still reclining on the pillows, his head turned to face Sheik but resting. “The last thing I thought before I went out was…”

Link’s mouth kept opening, just a little, with no sound.

Sheik huffed. ��That you should’ve taken the damn lens out of your pocket?”

Link blinked rapidly for a solid three seconds. Then he broke into a smile he was clearly trying to fight, the left side of his mouth twitching insistently while his lower lip rose as if to clamp the top one in place. His face kept turning redder, and the tiny snort of laughter which escaped Link twitched a corner of Sheik’s mouth upward despite himself.

Link’s laughter burst out, mixed with painful wheezes as he held his battered ribs, and Sheik’s gut insisted on shaking with impossible, ridiculous, unwise laughter. It was madness to take Link’s life-threatening error lightly. Insane. It did take him too long to figure things out.

“Y- you-“ Sheik said, trying to break through his own laughter and failing, tears now streaming freely down his eyelids to his face mask, excusable as hilarity, though the shuddering in his abdomen insisted on being more than that.

Link calmed before Sheik did.

He did try to stop it. He splayed a hand over the top half of his face, his eyes shut.

Link had been breathing softly, then caught his breath a few times. “Hey,” Link said.

He said it like that.

Sheik fought not to curl in on himself.  His his muscles tautened like harpstrings.

“Come here,” Link said. “Please.”

Sheik tapped his foot.

“Please?” Link asked. His voice was far too gentle. Sheik removed his hand in time to see Link pat the edge of the bed.

Sheik ground his teeth.

But the feet beneath him took him there.

He sat, the mattress denting more than it seemed like it should for a person his size.  His muscles trembled with the effort of remaining together.

Link held his hand out, palm open. Sheik stared at it, then at Link, who nodded. Sheik held his own hand out, confused until Link clasped it in his own, his grip firm despite his off-color skin.

Sheik did not gasp.

“There’s something else I took a long time to say,” Link said, his words very soft. They stopped Sheik’s breath entirely. He watched, transfixed—horrified—elated—as Link’s other hand approached his mask.

“This okay?” Link asked.

The shape Sheik’s head drew was a circular war between a nod and a shake.  Link’s hand flinched back a hair.

“If it’s not, I- I’ll-“

A tiny sound escaped Sheik and mortified him instantly: high, soft, and pleading. He felt as though his skin had become the shade of his irises.

“Does that mean you want me to?”

Sheik shut his eyes in frustration with himself. He leaned a fraction closer to Link’s hand.

His fingers sent shivers down Sheik’s tense nerves as he gently eased the cloth down.

Sheik spent long moments just breathing.

“It is you,” Link whispered.

When Sheik finally opened his eyes, the smile on Link’s face was the most breathtaking he’d ever seen on him, even with his split lips and mottled skin.

“I almost took too long,” Link said. “I thought…” his smile turned sad as his free hand hovered between himself and Sheik. “I thought I would die without telling you.”

An unsteady puff of air left Sheik’s mouth. “That I’m Zelda? I already knew that.”

Link laughed, too, a calm huff. “Kind of. But, no… that’s… not it. At least, it’s not all.” Suddenly Link was struggling to sit upright. Sheik helped him on instinct, his clasped hand anchoring Link’s and pulling him upward. Link grunted his pain, but he stayed up, now much closer to Sheik.

“I was surprised at first, and confused,” Link said, his voice now shaking.

Sheik shook, too. “About what?”

A small smile touched Link’s face. “By how attracted I was to you,” he said.

All that red drained from Sheik’s face. He wouldn’t be surprised to look in the mirror and find his eyes had de-reddened too.

“I was always hoping to see you,” Link said. “Around every corner. You seemed to always know where I was or- at least where I would be, but I could never find you when I tried.” He laughed, its flutters nervous. “I was hoping you’d still be in Kakariko when I left the temple, but then…”

Link seemed to deflate. His head hung, shaking side to side, his shoulders slumped. “I failed you.”

Sheik wanted to say he hadn’t, but it just wasn’t true. It was part of his anger.

“Impa…didn’t come out either, did she?”

Sheik’s lips quivered.

“I- am so sorry,” Link said, his chin weak.

“Everything has its time,” Sheik said.

A few puffs of halfhearted laughter left Link. “Except me,” he said.

“You nearly did,” Sheik hissed.

“…Yeah. Yeah, I did. I shouldn’t’ve joked about that.” He gave Sheik a sheepish look.  “I wasn’t smart. I rushed in. I was trying to catch up to Impa. I didn’t prepare anywhere near as well as I should have and I was trying to make up for lost- lost time- finding the lens. I don’t know why I didn’t even think to look through it when I got smashed into the ground repeatedly.”

“Probably because you were too busy getting smashed into the ground repeatedly,” Sheik said.

“But…you found me.”

“I followed as soon as the village wasn’t burning.”

“Why this time and not the others?”

Sheik gave him a long look.

“…Do you always follow me?”

“Yes,” he said, very quietly.

Link leaned closer and closer. Their bangs met first—then their foreheads. “So…if I turn around…why don’t I see you.”

“I’m good at hiding.”

“Why hide from me?”

“To stay strong.”

“You can’t be strong with me?”

“I can’t be seen to be-“ Sheik bit his lip, taking a calming breath. “You must understand. No one knows who I am. I can’t seem to be interested in you.”

Link raised on eyebrow. Sheik’s cheeks flushed at the same rate as Link’s mouth curling upward. “So…you’re interested in me.”

“Of course I am,” Sheik hissed. “You and I are the keys to ending Ganondorf’s evil reign!”

“Oh, I see. So you can’t seem to care about how I’m doing.”

“Exactly.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is? Because you teaching me all those teleportation songs sure seems like you care about how I’m doing. In the battle for Hyrule, I mean.”

“No one saw me teach you those.”

“Oh, so it’s okay if no one sees.”

“Of course.”

Link was smiling so slyly at him. He could think of one (unwise) way to wipe that smirk right off his face, and it made him grip Link’s still-clasped hand much harder.

“Ouch,” Link said.

Sheik did not apologize. “You yourself said you were- confused. Surprised. You can’t have immediately known who I was.”

Link reached up to brush a strand of hair from his eye. “No. Not right away.”

“But you were attracted.”

Link nodded.

Sheik registered those eyes of his wandering all over his face. His heart sped when they lingered longer on his lips than they should have. “You are not the only person who would think it odd.”

Link snorted. “There’s a difference between me coming to terms with things about myself and some jerk being judgy.”

“It isn’t about judgement. It’s about expectations. I am a man.”  Sheik stared hard at him, eyebrows shot way up, daring Link to challenge him.  “And if I behave in a way contrary to people’s expectations, it will be noticed. I can’t afford a doubt which would whisper in Ganondorf’s ear.”

Link chuckled. “You think that’s more likely to tip him off than the music lessons?”

Sheik shoved his face right up to Link’s, eye-to-eye and nose-to-nose, glaring. “I had to do that. No getting around it. Riskier to try and pass it off to someone else.”

Something changed in Link’s expression, then. It reminded Sheik of something, but he couldn’t place what.

“Okay,” Link said. “If- you think it’s a bad idea, I won’t push you.”

Sheik’s eyes stung again.

“I just- wanted to make sure I told you.” Link huffed again, half a laugh but also sad. “Before my time actually comes.” He reached for Sheik’s hand and unclasped it from him—and placed an extremely gentle, chaste kiss to its heel.

Sheik didn’t let any sound out.

His hands came to rest in his lap, but Link’s went to the bed on either side of him. He was trembling hard.

“You…shouldn’t sit up so long,” Sheik said, annoyed with himself.

“I’m alright.” Link said.

Sheik watched the wielder of the Master Sword shake—not out of fear: out of pain. More than one kind.

It occurred to Sheik that he, on occasion, could also be an idiot.

“I didn’t realize,” he found himself saying, “the mistake I was making when I threw you the ocarina.”

Link looked back up.

“I should’ve taken it with me. Impa and I could’ve taken it with us to the ends of the earth. Maybe we could’ve destroyed it. Ganondorf might eventually have found another way in, but he also may have grown old and died before he did. It would’ve spared Hyrule. It would’ve spared you. I…” Sheik swallowed, and he just let it happen this time—Link already knew. Whatever expectations he might’ve had didn’t matter.

And if Sheik was honest with himself, Link not having figured it out had been part of his anger, too. How could he not have known Sheik was Zelda?

And yet how could Sheik expect him to figure out something kept so tight to his chest?

It turns out he had, anyway.

Maybe it didn’t take Link all that long to figure things out. Maybe the problem was the time it took to choose.

The back of Link’s finger brushed first one tear, then another, from Sheik’s cheeks.

“I made the same mistake,” Link said. “I opened the door for him.” Link’s hand came to rest on Sheik’s cheek, and it changed something in Sheik’s entire body. His back wanted to arch, his breath begged to speed, and something warm and hazy seemed to enclose his thoughts, encouraging him to discount everything he’d said to Link in the past ten minutes.

“Neither of us is perfect,” Link said, his thumb caressing Sheik’s cheek, “but I love you just the way you are. No exceptions, and-“ Link smiled softly- “no expectations.”

Sheik found himself holding Link’s hand to his face, his arm pressing Link’s to his side, and realizing expectations had, in fact, been his problem. He’d expected Link to do all this alone—thought he needed to, to prepare for what was coming. Ganondorf was far more deadly than any of the creatures inhabiting the corrupted temples, and Link needed to be ready. Sheik was already ready, wasn’t he?  He hadn’t spent 7 years sealed in the Sacred Realm asleep. He’d trained and fought and grown and lived for nothing but the moment he could free Hyrule from its tyrant.

Yet neither he nor Link would succeed in that final endeavor alone. They would need both parts of the Triforce to overcome Ganondorf—as well as Sheik’s innate magic and Link’s truly extrarordinary strength and prowess.

Even Impa had been overcome by the evil spirit of shadows alone.

“Maybe,” Sheik said, astonished at the fluctuations in his own voice, “I should’ve- stepped in. A lot earlier than I did.”

“It’s okay,” Link said.

Sheik knew he meant it. He swept the tip of his nose against Link’s, a soft touch.

Then, they were kissing.

Sheik didn’t quite understand how it began, but Link’s mouth was on his, his hand still on Sheik’s cheek while the other slid against the small of Sheik’s back. Sheik buried his fingers in Link’s hair and curled an arm around Link’s shoulders, pressing him closer, the two of them making sounds of mingled relief, desire, and-

Pain?

Sheik gasped, inwardly cursing himself as he released the pressure on Link, who was chuckling.

“Ouch,” Link said.

“Maybe you’d better lay down-“

“Yeaaaah.”

Sheik helped him ease back down to the pillows and Link grasped his hand, kissing the backs of each knuckle. Sheik huffed flushed laughs at each one, eventually extracting himself while Link smiled at him.

“You,” Sheik said, “need rest.”

Link shrugged, then winced.

“Ha. See?”

“Yeah, I know.” Link adjusted himself lower on the pillows. “Are you still mad at me?”

Sheik studied him a long moment. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I was to begin with, truly.”

Sheik waved a hand at Link’s confused face. “Rest. I’ll ponder my inner workings. Don’t worry about it.”

He went back to preparing a salve for Link’s eyes and lips. This time, he smiled at the smooth concoction, imagining the look on Link’s face when he applied it—an incredible relief from the near-constant scowl he’d worn these past three days…and seven years.

--

[Thanks for the ask, Ace! This just kept getting longer 😂].

[flowerwrites06]

Drabble game!! Something like a Robin hood Au with Taehyung 👀

CARRIAGE HIJACK

Information: Bandit!Taehyung x OC (Name: Althea) | Robin Hood AU | Taehyung puts a prince in his place. Warnings: sexist behavior, racist behavior, bride snatching, mentions of violence.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・． .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Althea kept her head down, red veil over her head as she was carted off with her new fiancée, ready to be displayed for the royal family to judge. The prince in question, Mateus, was busy drinking and looking out the window. He was the one who came all this way to fetch a bride while she was living her life peacefully, now he’s pouting. Althea had a half a mind to just take the knife from her boot and slit his throat now. It could help both of them.

“Can you read?” Mateus spoke in his language purposefully as if to test that Althea still knew it or it was just a strike of divine luck.

Althea was glad the fool couldn’t see her glare too clearly. “Yes, your language is not difficult.” She spoke in the most formalized tonality of his language.

Mateus scoffed, looking out the window. “The bitch has a tongue.”

“And a spine too. Something you might be unfamiliar with,” Althea said.

He glared. “If you had such a spine then why’re you here to warm my bed?”

“Our bed will hardly be warmed with you at the helm.” Althea narrowed her gaze, feeling the welcoming cool of the knife. “And I’m doing this to prevent your kingdom from harming my village.”

Mateus sat back at her seat, folding his arms over his chest. “Once you’re in the kingdom, you’ll be my wife. You’ll learn not to speak against me.”

“Are your guards going to teach me a lesson?” Althea asked. “By the looks of you, there’s not much damage that can be done with you alone.”

Mateus was ready to lunge with red-faced anger but the carriage came to an abrupt stop, forcing him to fall back pathetically. “What happened?!” He shrieked. “Anthony, I’ll fucking kill you! Why did we stop?” He spat out the window.

“Sir, there’s a log in the way,” Anthony replied calmly. “We’ll need to remove it before we can proceed.”

Mateus cursed, climbing out of the carriage. “Stay in there,” he ordered Althea for no reason before slamming the carriage door. “Why can’t you go around?”

Althea heard rustling in the bushes, cracking of leaves before a grunt was sounded. She heard a thud of someone falling. When she tried to see what happened, Mateus began to shrieking like a child.

“Let me go! I’m a prince, I’ll tell my father! He’ll kill you!”

Bandits.

The door opened next to her with a stranger. A mask over his face, sharp eyes stared back at her, curtained by a raven locks glistening with humidity. “Apologies, my lady.”

“Are you killing him?” Althea asked.

He raised a brow, making a noise of confused though as he looked at whatever scuffle was happening. “I don’t think so. He’s being very dramatic about it though.” The bandit climbed into the carriage and closed the door, letting out a sigh of relaxation. “That’s better.” He spread his legs so her own were caged between them. “I’ll have your jewellery then, darling, if you please.”

Althea took off the heavy necklace and bracelets Mateus’ family gave her, thinking it would impress everyone when he showed them off. They were nothing but trinkets. She handed them to him.

He accepted, shoving them into a satchel. “I’d tell you to take off the dress but I often enjoyed doing that myself.”

Althea smiled as Taehyung lifted the veil, sneaking inside it so they were cocooned in their own world. She pulled down the mask to reveal a smug smirk. Taehyung reached in to kiss her.

“What took you so long?” Althea asked as they broke the kiss.

“They tried to change the route,” Taehyung said. “But I promised I’ll get here.”

“You worked with them,” Mateus said through the open window. “You bitch.” One of his henchman, Jimin quickly bound his mouth.

“Should we kill him, boss?” Jimin asked.

Mateus cried out.

“No, send him back to his family,” Taehyung said as he moved out of the veil. “Tell your father that the bad bandits took your wife. Make him walk.” He drew the curtains to the carriage. He looked at Althea, pulling the veil completely. “Now about that dress,” he smirked.

drabbles are closed now, sorry!

[rexxdjarin]

Just over here thinking about how nice it would be to just hop in the shower with Rex after he’s had a really long day and he’s tired. So you just let him stand there under the water and your scrub him down… and then probably suck him off for good measure. Hehehe 😈😈

Erin🥺💙 you know I’m obsessed with bl*wjobs especially for Rex. So uhhhhh👀

“That’s it…lean back.” You instruct from where you were propped up on your knees between his legs. The hot water soaked you both through to the bone, the soapy water streaming down his rippling chest. You guided gentle fingertips down his abs, following the streams of water down to the growing length of him.

He leaned back against the transparisteel wall, tipping his head down to watch you inching close to him. You smile up at him teasingly, his eyes hooded with both arousal and exhaustion meeting your gaze. He slowly guided your wet hair from your face and held it back in his grip. “You don’t….have to….” He muttered softly, his lips curling into that appreciative yet suggestive smirk of his.

His cock now grown to full hardness at the mere sight of you on your knees for him, slapped up into his lower abdomen. “I don’t have to…” You reached for it, curling your fingers around the base and slowly slicking up along the throbbing vein on the underside. “I want to. Please?” You asked teasing him. You knew what he wanted before he even turned the shower on.

He grunted, gently pulling at your hair as you said the magic words to him. “Since you’ve asked so nicely…” he hissed as you met your curled fist around his tip with your parted lips. “Fuck oh mesh’la- how could I ever say no?” You let your tongue dart out to slip a bead of white precum into your mouth.

“Missed you.” You flicked at his slit, your tongue twisting around the ridge of his tip. You let yourself drool over the length of him, slicking him up as your fist pumped down. You kept eye contact with him as you wrapped your lips around him and sucked in your cheeks.

He whimpered at the growing tension of your lips pulling taut around him. “Oh shit- missed you too mesh’la. So much. Shit that’s good. So good.” His grip in your hair tightened as you slipped more of him down your throat, beginning a torturous bobbing rhythm. You hummed softly, the sensation making his breath catch in his throat.

Whatever had been bothering him and weighing on him during his last mission was all but gone as you took him deeper and deeper down your throat. The faster you went, the longer your tongue twisted around his shaft, the more he panted and whined as he chased his high. “You’re going to make a mess of me.” He laughed as you slid him far enough past your lips to bump into the back of your throat.

Your hands steadied on his thighs, gripping and massaging him while you sucked him off with no hands. His brows raised, clearly impressed at just how much you could and were willing to do to help him relax while on even just a brief leave. Never one to be outdone, you slowly moved to cup both his balls in one hand and swallowed around the width of him pounding against you.

His chest heaved, breath stuttering as he signaled how close he was. Your nose tickled the hairs at the base of him right before you pulled off completely, opening your mouth expectantly. “Come for me, baby.” You cooed, holding out your tongue and blinking up at him innocently. “Come, Rex.”

His lower belly tightened as he held himself in his hand, pumping himself only once fully before he spilled over his fingers and on to your waiting tongue. He groaned loudly, ribbons of his spend launching onto your tongue, lips and cheek. He did make a sloppy mess, but one you quite enjoyed being on the receiving end of. “What a welcome home.” He panted, smiling from ear to ear. He guided you to your feet, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb and wiping away the mess he’d made of you. “Now let me clean you up.”

[onsunnyside]

HEHE MYTHOLOGY THOT INCOMING

so there's that fairytale all over asia w the hunter/cowherd/woodsman stumbling across a bathing fairy/maiden and stealing her clothes. then he wont give it back until she marries him 👀👉🏼👈🏼

i mean!! i havent decided on someone, mebbe big gruff curtis or cocky steve 😖💕 but you're naked and small, trying to hide yourself in the water while this big mortal holds your dress out of reach and he's so mean!! he says you can have it back if you're a good little fairy for him 🥺

i've never heard of that oh my !! BRANDY I LOVE THIS !!

let's go with steve !! hunter!steve is big and burly, living in his cabin and the best in the business for tracking/hunting animals. he's got his long hair and beard, ultimate daddy era, and he's so dirty !! clad in fur and leather from his prey (perhaps even some from other mythological creatures).

You try to cover yourself, holding onto any sliver of modesty you have left. The hunter just raises a brow and holds out the thin cotton woven with skeleton leaves. A small gasp flutters from your lips as a flower falls to the ground, joining your vine and twig crown.

"You want this back, don't you?" His voice is deep and rumbling. he waits for a few moments, then his blue eyes narrow to slits. "Can you speak?"

You nod hesitantly, shivering as a cold gust brushes along your wet skin. The sun sets behind the trees, bathing the pond in a yellow glow. Your skin gleams naturally, sparkling brighter than the stars. Steve would give anything to touch it, to feel you.

"Would you rather be a good fairy, or freeze and die there instead?"

You stand quickly, the water sloshes and ripples spread throughout the calm. Your teeth chatter from the abrupt rush of air and your thighs clench tightly, inevitably drawing the hunter's gaze. You quickly shield yourself, ignoring your hardening nipples against your palms.

"Good girl, now c'mon. It's getting dark, and you don't wanna be here when the beasts come out." The blond tuts, swinging his rifle over his broad shoulder. "The gods know they'll devour you in the blink of an eye."

[yikes-00]

JJ!! 💙💙💙💙

42. “So excited already…” + Hangster, for inexperienced smut prompts, please?

(I'm totally normal about that prompt list...)

💖 Wishing you a great day! 🌷🌻🌹

CLAUDE!! I really hope you enjoy this one!!!! Based on some, recent convos we had👀

tags: impact play, d/s tones, dom Bradley, sub Jake, clothed sex, bondage, rivals that lovers

Rating: E/explicit

AN: peace and love!!!✨💕

Jake moans softly. His hips rock forward at the light touch that ghosts over his clothed cock. Jake tries to swallow down the noise. His body is wound tight and they haven’t even started yet. 

“You’re so excited already,” Bradley chuckles, “and we haven’t even started yet.” 

Jake clenches his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath, trying to calm himself down. Bradley shifts. His dress whites are in pristine condition still. The thick material is stiff with starch. Jake grunts softly when the soft touch leaves him. 

“B,” Jake says. His voice wavers and Bradley hums quietly. 

“Yeah?” 

“Please, just- just do something.” 

Bradley chuckles softly. Jake opens his eyes and Bradley is staring down at him. His lips are turned up into a small smirk and he runs his fingers through his honey colored curls. 

“Love it when you beg for me,” Bradley says softly. It’s quiet and intimate. Like this moment is just for them. “Love it when you need me.” 

Jake’s eyes flutter closed. It’s a burning feeling. His skin pulled too tight over his body. His wrists are tied to the bed. He’s at the mercy of the one person Jake never thought he’d give himself over to. 

Bradley smiles. He shifts his weight on the bed kneeling between Jake’s spread thighs. Bradleys fingers drag higher. His nails scratch against the sensitive skin of Jake’s inner thighs going higher. 

Jake’s cock twitches. Precome slowly drips out of his slit as Bradley looks closer. Jake’s eyes flick up and Bradley is just staring at him. 

The first slap has barely any impact. Bradley’s fingers lightly tap Jake’s thigh. Jake’s legs quiver as he lets out a soft moan. Bradley’s lips turn up. His palms heavily slide down Jake’s thighs tracing a path to his knee. 

“Ready?” 

The question is rhetorical.

The next slap lands on the meat of the inside of Jake’s thigh. The pain mixes together inside of him, sending an intense feeling of pleasure through Jake. Jake whimpers. His legs bend away from the sting and Bradley quietly hushes him.

Fingers wrap around Jake’s legs slowly pulling them straight and wide again exposing him to Bradley. 

“Don’t make me get the straps,” Bradley says in a dangerous voice. His fingers gently trail over where he just slapped Jake’s skin. “Shame to have to completely tie you up in my bed.” 

Jake’s eyes slide close. It’s black behind his eyes. Jake wills his body still and he waits. 

A moan slides between his lips at the next slap and the one after that. Bradley’s hand lands decidedly on Jake’s skin. The sounds of skin on skin fill the bedroom as Bradley moves up Jake’s thighs landing blows. Jake whimpers. His back bows under the effort to hold himself still. His cock is hard and neglected, curled up against Jake’s stomach. The tip is leaking, leaving a messy trail against Jake’s skin. 

Jake’s mouth falls open. A small whimper leaves his lips as Bradley tuts softly. 

“So needy, aren’t you?” Bradley asks. Jake’s eyes flutter open as Bradley drags his hand higher over Jake’s cock. Bradley’s eyes meet Jake’s. “Just a needy little brat that just needs a reminder to how to be good.”

Jake shakes his head. “You get off on this as much as I do.” 

Bradley raises a brow. His hand tightens and Jake whimpers. Bradley squeezes Jake’s balls in a tight grip. The pain is intense. Jake arches into the touch trying to relieve the pain. Bradley’s hand loosens and Jake lets out a quiet gasp. 

“Gonna be nice?” Bradley asks softly. Jake smiles. 

“When am I ever?”

Bradley shakes his head. He lets go of Jake’s balls and leans down. Jake picks his head up and meets bradley for a kiss. Bradley’s uniform presses roughly against Jake’s skin. The dress whites rub against Jake’s nipples sending another wave of need through Jake. 

Bradley’s mouth swallows the noises as he slides his tongue deep into Jake’s mouth. His hand cups Jake’s cheek. Bradley’s thumb brushes over the sharp bone before he pulls back. 

“Word.”

“Bronco.” 

Bradley looks down at Jake. His eyes are dark and Jake feels the anticipation pool in his gut. 

“You sure?” Bradley asks. The last lingering doubt settles in his dark eyes. 

Jake smiles. 

“Do your worst, Bradshaw. Besides, what else are rivals for?”