#Bury ⠀ me ⠀ by ⠀ PinkPantheress

[venuscaotico]

⠀ would ⠀ you ⠀ bury ⠀ me?

⠀ can't ⠀ you ⠀ bury ⠀ me?

[1000-year-old-virgin]

Pinkpantheress ft. Kelela - Bury Me

[coelacanthemoji]

[lastdayofaboy]

I almost fell in love, but I couldn't tell you I couldn't tell you I-I couldn't tell you I was giving up, but I couldn't tell you Would you bury me? Can't you bury me? I almost fell in love, but I couldn't tell you

[soothinglee]

| 2 AM - myung jaehyun x gn! reader - 800 wc✔︎

my notes⎯ hey...how y'all doing? I know it's been a long time since I've posted something but I'm in college now! and life is busy, but I promise i'll get better at it. hopefully after I post this I can begin another one! here's my man in a fanfic for y'all( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ ). warnings⎯ lowercase intended, cursing, not really proofread. songs⎯ 2 am | SZA and pain | pinkpantheress

"do I really to come over now?"

"well, yes."

an exasperated sigh leaves your lips as a heavy hand drags at your cheeks, "jaehyun, I love you, I do, but it's 2 am."

the luminescent glow from the device next to the pillow dims from being untouched. being the only light in the dark room, you can see the dark shadows beneath your lashes on the screen.

"okay but I need to show you something! It's important!" he rebuttals, his words slowed due to his own exhaustion. there's ruffling on the other end that follows.

"so important that you can't wait until the sun comes up?"

the sound stops, breathing; soft and quiet replaces it while he hesitates. it had been a long time since you had last seen jaehyun. him always busy flying to different countries, visiting onedoors all around the world while juggling intense practices and concerts, and you; buried under the weight of being a 2nd year in college, trying to get used to the mountains of school work assigned along with working an exhausting job.

there is no word strong enough to convey the feeling of the empty bed beside you. his space cold and open from where he usually laid. he couldn't make it home tonight, trapped in by the walls of the dorm due to a late night and scheduled activities for the following day.

you shudder as a cold breeze passes by you, "I'm waiting?"

"I miss you." he says after a moment. there's a heaviness to his voice, he's pouting, you can tell. his bottom lip poked out as he gazes at the contact name he put for you. "I wish I could come over but...you know how management is."

"I know." you unconsciously match his tone. a sigh. "yeah, I know."

"but..." he starts back up again. there's movement on his side and you hear him huff with effort as he tries to sit up. "they never said anything about you coming over here."

"sure, but that's because I've never been over there. you always come to my place." you finger for the switch to the lamp on your bedside table, tired of being surrounded by black. "I don't want to start now and then have to put rules in place that weren't there before. it'd be troublesome."

a long whine leaves his lips, thumping his fists lightly in a miniature tantrum, "but they know who you are! they trust you."

you sigh for the umpteenth time, "jaehyun." your voice trails off.

"what?" an abrupt scoff catches itself through the speaker, "you don't want to see me?"

"no, not at all!" you get out hastily, "you know how much I've missed you since you've been on tour; hell I'm pretty sure our texts show it, but I've been working too dude. and I'm sorry but I'm even too tired to even get up to use the bathroom."

"ew." it comes out quietly but still audible. "sounds like you need to invest in a catheter."

"die."

the line goes silent. the window on your left was propped open with a wooden stick you found at your job. the street below sings with cars passing through the leftover rain. it lulls you to sleep, the weight of your eyelids slowly closing in on itself.

"jaehyun." you mumble, finally feeling the effects of a tiring week. "why are you so quiet."

he clears his throat, "I can't be quiet?" the words rush out in a hushed voice, each one colliding with another.

"no." the duvet beneath your back shifts, "it's weird."

he pauses, a garbled noise releases from the back of his esophagus and it causes him to hesitate longer than intended. "how mad would you be at me if I were to say, hypothetically, that I was, hypothetically, on my way to your apartment with an overnight bag." he takes a breath and sheepishly adds, "hypothetically."

a sigh much deeper than the last deflates your body as you finally relinquish. you should've know playing this game with jaehyun wouldn't mean a thing to him. when he wanted something he got it, no matter if he had a packed day to come in the following hours.

"at this point," you start hiking the covers up closer to your chin. "I don't give a damn."

"I figured." you can hear the smug smile in his voice, the beep of the elevator doors opening for him and promptly closing as coded. "I'll be there in ten babe."

defeated, you turn your back towards the phone on his pillow, "yeah yeah, you know how to get in."

he laughs wholeheartedly, a sound resonating deep within his chest. it's easy to envision the cheeky grin that graces his face.

"of course, see you in a little, sleep well."

[plumslices]

Tell about me baby

[prncssie]

ONE ⎯⎯ ★ m. list

you’d think when you’re all moved out of your childhood home and sitting on the cool wooden flooring of your own apartment, you’d feel all grown up. granted, you are grown up. however, there’s just something so different, so special and sacred, about enjoying a glass of cheap red wine and listening to the soft sounds of frank ocean, pinkpantheress, and other various artists humming from your red beats pill. this space is entirely yours. it’s your space, filled with the scent of toasted vanilla beans and marshmallows roasting over a fire.

it’s as neat and cluttered as you want it, polaroids of your old life plastered against the walls, floors freshly mopped, dishes cleaned and put away. the air practically buzzes with opportunity, with optimism and hope for the future. you can see it now, your name credited at the end of the newest blockbuster, only after successfully landing a lead role and hitting it off with your co-actors. you can taste it, your dream come true. sweet like syrup, dancing across your tongue with a honeyed sapor. it’s everything you could have asked for and here, in this new city, it’s just within reach. of course, first, you’d have to land a role.

still, that isn’t exactly you’re biggest focus right now. in just a couple hours, you’ll be starting your new job at the local diner. it isn’t something you’re nervous about perse, but there’s nothing particularly enjoyable about a fresh start. your new uniform hangs in your makeshift closet. the stone gray curtains are pulled back to reveal the crisp edges of the baby pink retro-style dress. it’s a cute, little thing. pinstripes from top to bottom, a flare skirt lined with soft tulle, a quaint white apron to match. you’d think it’s something you’d get out of the sexy costume section of spirit halloween. yet, it’s something you’ll be putting on for almost seven days out the week. it’s position in your closet symbolizes something to you. a glowing emblem of promise. it may not be the best item you own, or even the most practical but it means the most and that’s something that matters.

a single corner of your mouth twitches upwards. your brown eyes find themselves wandering towards the simplistic blinking clock on your desk. it’s 12:30. it’s late enough, you think, for you to crawl beneath the thousand count thread sheets stretched across your bed. you toss your head back, downing the rest of the savory wine in a couple of gulps. you practice your newfound freedom by leaving the glass right there on the coffee table and make your way towards your bed. your muscles strain and tremble after minutes of sitting in the same position for far too long. they sing their praises once you reach your plush mattress and bury yourself beneath the sheets. 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ★

“oh my gosh, hello!” the sing-songy voice spouts from a gorgeous dark haired girl, tinted a shade of red resembling a plum. she looks sweet, sharp eyes, a cute round nose. she smells sweet, like a ripe apple spiced with cinnamon on a nice autumn day. she grins at you with glossed pink lips while shoving a notepad within her apron pocket. “you must be the new girl. welcome to bop and bite, darlin’. my name is cherry. braxton told me we’d be gettin’ a new hire today.”

her infectious glee is enough to bring a pleased look to the surface of your face. there’s a bit of a southern twang that weaves through her words. it makes you tilt your head in curiosity but you don’t ask. instead, you run your hands along the skirt of your pressed uniform and grin back. “oh, i’m ⭐︎. it’s so nice to meet you. are you going to be training me?”

“oh, no. mrs. glen’s gone’ be trainin’ you. she’s super sweet. a real sugar pie. there’s this whole seniority thing and she has really good scores so,” cherry turns away from you, facing her distorted  reflection in the mint green countertops. they’re shiny enough to strain your eyes, reflecting the bright yellow lighting directly into your face. she bends over the open space and, what you’d soon learn as classic cherry fashion, rakes her fingers through her hair with a black elastic held tight within her teeth. “don’t worry, honey. you’ll be in great hands.”

you watch her tie her hair back, looking over the countertops at the empty booths and unoccupied bar stools. perhaps you’ve gotten far too dressed up compared to everyone else but really, can you be blamed for that? you half-assed makeup routine usually consisted of a light layer of a light layer of concealer,  a smooth line of eyeliner on the lower lids, blush, highlight, all the works. you just thought, since it is your first day, why not leave a good impression with a sugared face and an even sugared smile. there’s a second, just one, where you wonder if you went a little overboard, but those thoughts are dissolved the moment cherry looks up at you, placing a soft hand on your forearm.

“you know, you’re as pretty as a peach. you’ll make some real good tips workin’ here, i think. they love a real doll face.” she squeezes your arm before turning and leaving you to your own devices.

you stand there for a moment, glancing around the colorful room. that’s the thing with new places. it’s fun, it’s cool, it’s a change of pace and exciting, but it ends there. you don’t have roots, not yet at least. it causes more breaks in your productivity then you’d like. it’s occupied with nothing but silence and conversation where you can. like any other person, you fill that silence by pulling your phone out of your pocket. the plastic case is cool against your hand and you tap the tempered glass to display your lock screen. it blurs and shifts upon the sight of your face and you’re welcome, unfortunately, by a text message. not one you’re looking forward to.

mom: When are you coming back home? This is a waste of time and you know it

you roll your eyes the moment the words register in your brain. it doesn’t come as a shock to you, not really. if you were going to be honest with yourself, you knew it was going to come soon. the arguments about your decision, their displeasure at your desire to pursue an acting career, them insisting you couldn’t afford to live on their own. of course, they’re right. you can’t. that’s why you’re pulling doubles at bop and bite in hopes of having enough for rent and spare time to make it to casting calls, even if it’s for another mundane background character.

you click your tongue against the tip of your mouth, deciding it’s better off not to respond back than informing her that you are, still, very serious about your commitment. even if it meant you had to live in a somewhat cramped studio apartment until you could afford something better — which will probably be never. at least, not any time in the future that you can see. your thumb swipes against the glass, clearing the message from your screen and hopefully, your brain.

you drop your phone back into your apron pocket by the time the presumed mrs. glen makes her appearance. she looks sweet, as cherry said. a smile, salt and pepper hair, seasoned wrinkles. she wears her uniform all the same, thin frilly socks and little heeled mary ones clicking against the hard floor tiles. her thin gold bracelets dangle as she keys herself in to the register. her hair is pulled tight, flipped ponytail swinging as she saunters.

mrs. glen glances at you, eyes scanning along your frame. you pique her interest. you and you’re . . . smallness. your small personality, the small amount of space you take up. perhaps it’s because you’re in an unfamiliar place but you don’t stand as bold as someone who would need to work here. “you move here from somewhere? ⭐︎, right? you have that newcomer thing about you.”

you are a bit more jittery than you realize or even care to admit. it’s embarrassing how you stumble to turn towards her, hands interlaced in front of your body and palms facing up. “oh, yes ma’am. i moved here from a small town. i actually just settled and everything yesterday.” your curls, tied back neatly in two, spring and bounce in place. you’ve taken great care to wash, detangle, moisturize, and stretch them to have the prettiest impression you possibly could.

“mm, i can tell,” it’s meant to be nothing, words just tossed out into the air but mrs. glen misses the slight twitch of your eyebrow, “anyway, you’ll be following me around today as my shadow. once you get the hang of it, you’ll be taking drink orders and making them. it’s a slow process. customers are picky; they want a particular service. we open in five minutes so stay close. yes?” this time, she faces you. her eyes, dark like sweetened chocolate chips, hold you where you are.

she’s stern, you can tell by the way she just stares at you, expectantly. cherry said she’s “a real sugar pie” but in this moment, you feel more like she’s firmer than a pine knot. “yes ma’am. i’ll be right beside you.”

[pinkwright]

need u on my skin like closure, baby | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

pairing — college!shuri x college!y/n

trope — exes 2 friends 2 lovers

inspo — anya mmiri by ckay ft. pinkpantheress

warnings — fingering (reader receiving), dom!shuri, humiliation kink, erm dumbification (listen..), possessive!shuri, protective!shuri, shuri is touchy, kissing, overstimulation, its long my bad, reader is easily embarrassed, tensionnn, shuris mean n condescending but so in love, reader is bratty for like two seconds, jealous!shuri, dacryphilia, dirty talk, degradation but like its like praise coded, praise, reader gets rlly subby (poor baby) but not crazily so like subspace, i think that's it but i honestly don't know.

a/n — i wrote this pretty quickly actually n was initially gonna post for valentines but bc i'm drowning in ideas rn it doesnt rlly matter so, i hope u enjoy it ! girl i won't lie writing this had me a bit breathy LMFAO so if there r any errors that's my bad but u know why. im a miniskirt kinda gal so this is what i imagine reader wearing to the party while this is what i imagine shuri in (4th)— u can obvi imagine what u want.

⟢˚ @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @saintwrld

ஜ

confusion, confusion, it's life, and illusion. you’re with me right now, next thing you're gone. but i need you on my skin closure, like closure, baby.

the music blasts through your ears, the steady vibrations stimulating you sufficiently, working well in keeping you from getting distracted from the current art piece you worked on. the world around you seemed muted as the tones of green, brown, and orange danced across your canvas, the oil paint was firm but still allowed room for error, encouraging it even – your favourite medium for that reason.

a slow succession of knocks sound under the thump of your music, the door to your studio opening and closing with two soft clicks, the person not making themselves known to you. though, a smile creeps on your lips – having recognised the knocking pattern, “by now you should know that creeping up on me after you’ve knocked is futile, right?” your hand reaching towards your stereo to lower the piercing volume.

you place your palette on the covered table to your side, the dirty paintbrush following suit as you stand to turn to face her, your arms lift into a stretch then fall to fix the unruly bun of the lace on your head as you finally set your gaze on her. she’s standing in the doorway, her hands buried in the pockets of her baggy black sweatpants, a matching oversized black hoodie sitting on her torso, the accents of dark purple shifting as she lifts her hands into surrender, and there’s mischief dancing in her eyes.  

“i will never understand how you do that when i quite literally have the stealth of a panther.”

she’s smiling at you as she speaks, her voice is playful and light as you begin to pack up your belongings, “i don’t know, your majesty. maybe, just maybe, the deadly black panther has met her match.” you’re giggling as you say it, unaware of the inner turmoil you’ve thrown shuri in to.

the air quietens down as you raise your eyes to look at her, your sweep of the room to make sure it’s presentable for your arrival tomorrow complete, and you seem to realise what has transpired, what you insinuated. shuri’s gazing at you with a deep but unreadable expression, one that has you averting your eyes over an awkward chuckle as you walk towards her.

“that, she has.” her voice is deep, and serious, as it slithers up your body, wafting with your intake of breath to settle in the depths of your lungs. her words carry a depth you’re familiar with, or at least, were familiar with, one that spoke of her devotion to you, her love and respect for you, her desires and promises to make you, her queen.

you clear your throat before moving around her tall frame to step out of the small, now tense, space. your heart flutters as she quickly reaches out to open the door for you, her cologne permeating your psyche as it washes over you – jasmine and warm musk on top of cedar and bourbon vanilla, all wrapped within the sensual flamboyancy of roses.

you walk to the elevator and step into the space, the music is soothing as you sigh out and drop your head side to side in a stretch, you had been sat unmoving for a long period of time, “i always tell you to take stretching breaks to ease the strain on your body.” shuri’s voice is teasing but you can hear the firmness floating through the crevices of it. your eyes reach to look up at her, your lips parting on a snarky remark, but the ding of a stop on another floor has you pausing; then there are two things happening simultaneously.

firstly, a group of college boys is stepping into the small space and, secondly, shuri’s reaching both her hands to rest firmly on the skin of either of your shoulders, slightly pressing against you to shift your body away from the rowdy boys, guiding you to face slightly away from them, as she steps forward to press against you, giving the one that was nearest to you a curt but taunting smile, as if she’s daring them to touch you.

the action is so swift and so instinctive that it’s over before you even get to blink twice, but it wakes up your aching body, provoking it into calling out for her. you feel its call in the warmth pulsing through you, the sweep of your stomach, and the racing of your heart. her head dips to where her soft curls skim the skin of your collarbone, her nose barely brushing against the arch of your neck, and your head is tilting slightly for her, your body reacts before your mind can process, clearly yearning for her closeness.

“what were you saying, s’thandwa?”

she breathes the words into your skin, her hands squeezing your shoulders before they’re slipping down your arms and coming to rest on the heated skin of your waist, pulling you into her so her chest presses against the length of your back; and you’re embarrassed. you can feel the rapid glances of the others beside you, though their conversation never ceases, and you know that shuri’s doing this on purpose. she knows that no matter how much you deny it, your body vibrates with the idea of her possessing you like this, owning you where there’s nothing to shield the clench of your thighs from prying eyes; she knows you bask in the humiliation of it.

you shake your head to clear your thoughts, “it’s fine, it wasn’t important.” you almost flinch when you hear how breathy your voice sounds, the heat rising to your face but moving to settle in the pit of your stomach. shuri’s chuckle is taunting as she breathes you in, her head dropping slightly and you can feel her lips curling as she skims a phantom kiss on your sweet skin, and you swear when your head clears, you’re going to kill shuri udaku.

the doors ring open to the ground floor and shuri guides your body out, no longer pressed against you as she takes to wrapping her arm around your shoulder and your head finally clears. “you are such a fucking ass, actually,” her boisterous laugh is cutting you off as she turns to look down at you, amusement dancing in her eyes.

“looking out for you is being an ass, my love?” she teases. your eyes roll as you throw her arm off of you, her laugh only intensifying as she brings her hands to clap obnoxiously. the muscles of your heart seize as you regard her, you love her so much, why’d she have to confuse you like this?

“shut the fuck up, i’ll see you tonight.” you try to look annoyed, but a series of giggles are escaping you as you walk away, your apartment only a block away. you’re adjusting the bag on your shoulder when shuri’s voice rings out in agreement, her laugh quelling as she watches you go, a sigh taking its place as the longing grips her once again.

⤠ 

you roll your lips to spread your lipgloss and reach to put the tube in the black bag you decided to carry tonight, rocking your hips to the beat of baby boy reverbarating through the walls of your apartment as you deem yourself ready. you spin your back to the mirror, your eyes sliding to gaze over your shoulder as you give yourself a once over, the length of your skirt was daring, provocative, just how you liked it.

the knocking at your door has you grabbing your bag and ruffling out your hair, allowing the bangs to frame your face cheekily because you know shuri likes it when you look a little bit of a mess for her, not that you wanted to look good for her or anything along those lines. the door swings open, your previous smile dropping as you lay your eyes on her, sweeping your gaze down her lithe frame as your glossy lips part, she needed you bad; shuri’s doing the same, her tongue coming out to lick her lips as her dark eyes burn into the skin of your legs, she had always been a leg girl.

your eyes snap up at the clearing of her throat, and she’s smirking at you before leaning into your space, her arms wrapping slowly around your waist, pressing you against her firmly as she brings her lips to your ear, “bast, you’re killing me, baby.”

the words end with a grunt as she slips one of her hands down your hips to play with the hem of your skirt, “this fucking skirt, you’re a little slut for attention, hm.” her voice is soft and cooing like she’s praising you, and her fingers grazing the skin of your thigh paired with the tenderness of her tone coaxes you into accepting the praise.

you let out a low whimper, the heat of your core bringing you to clench your thighs slightly, shuri chuckles condescendingly before pulling away, lifting your hand to her lips to graze your knuckles before she’s pulling you away, guiding you to her car. the ride is a short but electrified one, god what kind of exes slash friends were you?

the party is in full blast by the time you two arrive, music blasting through the house and flowing into both the back and front yards, you could feel the vibrations settle in the marrow of your bones as you make your way inside, still being guided by shuri. she moves through the crowd just like a panther; gracefully, instinctively, moving with the aura of the apex predator she was, she greets people as she enters the kitchen, using the grip on your hand to seat you on an empty barstool before she starts to prepare some drinks for you.

you’re joined by some of your friends, and soon you’re laughing, enjoying the party and the sweet drink shuri had prepared for you, before you feel like dancing. you hold one of your friend’s hands as you go to dance, letting go of the overbearing stress you carried, letting the music caress the heat of your skin. you feel her eyes watching you, feel them heavily sliding down the length of your moving body and it exhilarates you. you open your eyes and just as you meet her gaze, a body presses itself against you, much like she had earlier, and her gaze is darkening.

the intensity of it shocks you but lulls the bratty side of you forward, calling you to make her move, make her claim you again. the thought excites you enough to bring your hand to guide the strangers to rest on the material covering your ribs, your lips twitching in amusement when you see her eyes drop to sneer at the touch.

that’s it, come to me. the vixen in you is cunning, luring her lover to her with tactics she knows shuri will concur to, tactics she knows will break the regal patience of the queen.

but shuri simply raises a manicured brow, her lips lifting into a smirk as she sweeps her eyes over your frame and she’s leaning forward against the marble countertops before tilting her head at you. you know that look, and so does your body, seeing as it instinctively clenches with a fire so deep it licks at the jagged edges of your ribs, sinking into the space between your legs.

she barely lifts her hand, her fingers moving to call you to her and you’re moving without thinking, like a prey to its predator, and you’re soothed by a false sense of security when she allows you to place your hand in hers so she can gently pull you towards her and whisper directly into your ear, “i don’t know who made you think you run shit, s’thandwa, but i know you need me to fix that for you, right?”

the shiver that wrecks through your body is instant and you’re nodding before you can comprehend, your breath hitching when you feel her pull you through the crowd, you were in for it. the lock of the bathroom door barely clicks before one of shuri’s hands grabs both of your wrists to press against the wood while the other pushes your hips against the surface.

there’s a pause, “i need to hear you to tell me you want this baby, that you want me.” her voice is strained like she’s holding back.

“please, please, shuri, i need it, need you, always.”

the whine barely escapes you before she’s letting out a tortured groan and pressing against you, her hand sliding down your hip, roughly pushing the hem of your skirt up, and pressing over the front of your damp underwear. your hips stutter as she presses against your clit, your lips parting as you moan out, hearing her groan into the curve of your neck, her lips pressing heated kisses along the length of it, “barely touched you and you’re this wet for me, baby? my pretty pussy’s crying for me, isn’t she?”

her voice is pulling you into the state only she can pull you into, where your mind is only occupied with her, and it’s hard to think, to breathe, to exist beyond her. her fingers trace slow circles over your underwear, your hips swirling to match the movements, and she’s laughing at you. lifting her lips to slide over your cheekbone and press against your temple as she increases the pace of her fingers.

“my desperate fucking girl. you want to come in these pretty lace panties?”

your hips buck wildly as you gasp, your head spinning as you whimper out her name, over and over again, a series of pleads falling from your lips. the way she’s talking to you with that lilt in her voice like you were just a girl to be scolded, a girl to be humiliated until you learned, learned what being hers meant. she’s speaking words to you, wanting you to gaze into those eyes while she touches what’s hers.

you feel the wave cresting, your stomach clenching as you practically squeal out her name, your hips gyrating frantically in time with her hand, your hands are clenching, your arms still held above your head, wanting to grab something to ground you, wanting to touch her to ground you. she coos at you, murmuring about her, “pretty sweet thing coming so good for her.”

your heart rate doesn’t get the chance to slow as you feel her hand slip into your now-soaked, underwear, your hips bucking violently as she grazes her slender fingers across your sensitive clit, and your eyes are widening as you lift your gaze to find hers already on you, “had enough, angel? i don’t think you have.” her voice is taunting, her eyes holding a fire that burns your insides.

your mouth drops open, your gaze unable to move from hers as she slides her fingers to your entrance circling around the opening as she groans deep in her throat, “bast, you were made for me, my love, made to take me?” her finger slips in slightly as she curls her tongue around ‘take’ and you’re chasing her fingers, she’s being so mean.

you tense as she finally slips her finger into the warmth of your walls, a satisfying moan slips from your mouth as she begins to gently thrust in and out of you, her fingers dragging against you, just the way she knows you love. she’s smirking against your cheek as you unabashedly moan out repeatedly, thumb coming to circle your clit as you shut your eyes. the tears are gathering on your lashes as you’re whimpering out.

“there’s my pretty baby’s tears.” her voice is dark, menacingly dragging out the words. “couldn’t have my pretty pussy crying by herself tonight, hm.” the words render you dumb before her fingers glide firmly against that rough patch inside you and you’re clenching so hard that it drags her fingers deeper into you, your legs trembling, your body solely held up by shuri’s hold on your wrists. and you still long enough for her to mutter out a ‘that’s it, angel.’ before you’re exploding again.

the tears are clinging to your lashes as you see flashes of colour behind your eyelids, your breath coming out in pants as you stutter your hips to the soothing slow of shuri’s lithe fingers, she’s using the hand holding your wrist to lower your arms to rest around her shoulders, her arms then coming to the back of your thighs to gently lift you on to the sink.

you feel her lift your chin, her lips approaching yours before she pauses, “you’re mine, right. my precious love, hm?” her voice is raspy. you nod eagerly, tightening your arms around her neck, whining for that kiss. she smirks as she leans in, placing her lips against your own softly but with a little desperation, the slide of your lips is a back-and-forth pull of your love, a love song duet, a devotion of walking into what will be.

the panther’s sly hands skim up your still quivering thighs fiddling with the band of your underwear, pausing, before she’s ripping them off. the gasp you release into her mouth is sharp but as you go to pull away, she doesn’t let you, her mouth slipping against yours felt like an addiction. both her hands slip along your inner thigh making their way to your dripping cunt.

her lips separate from yours when the tips of her fingers graze your folds and you thrash so wildly, she has to reach a hand to your hip to still you, a grunt slipping passed her mouth at the action, you were so sensitive, it made her feral. her eyes lift to your shut ones as she glides her fingers over your clit, your head frantically shaking, “you don’t want more, my love?”

her voice wisps through the clouds in your mind, “c-cant…please” you force out pathetically on a whimper, her fingers circling your clenching entrance, “i know, baby, i know.” she’s speaking gently to you, lovingly, “but you’re mine, yes? mine to love, mine to make come as i please? isn’t that right, honey?” and you’re nodding frantically.

“then i want you to get off on my thigh like the desperate girl you are, sweetheart.”

her voice is the only thing you can fathom, and it has you craving for more, inviting her into you and it almost makes shuri preen – you’re so open to her, settling into her embrace as if you trusted her more than yourself, it makes her soaking pussy clench tight around nothing, in a way only you could make her. her thigh presses between your legs and your muscles tremble around the strong muscle, her hand slips around your throat, squeezing gently as she guides your eyes to hers, and she gazes at you so deeply, it makes you squirm.

shuri’s watching you struggle against her thigh, her lips lifting into a condescending smirk that forces you to shut your eyes and let out a lengthy, needy whine before she uses her free hand to grip your waist and harshly slide you against her.

“dumb baby needs me to do everything for her?”

the moans you’re sobbing out sharply slice through the air, and you feel filthy, crying out for her while she drags you against her thigh like a desperate slut. you’re hiccupping on your tears as she continues to coo at you, walking you to your demise and you can feel it, your heartbeat pulsing through your desperate clenching walls.

her head is nodding along with yours, your eyes unable to separate from hers, and she’s groaning along to your cries, asking if you want it enough if you’re desperate enough for her. she leans in to press a tender peck to your lips that you can’t reciprocate, “that’s it, my angel, give me that come.”

then your body is convulsing so violently, shuri has to press the length of her body against you to prevent you from slipping off of the sink she has you sat on, her head sinking to your neck to shower you in praises and remind you how good you were for her, how much she loves you, how pretty you are when you cry for her. your tears are hot on your cheeks as you soak her thigh, and you’re heaving as your eyelashes cling to one another, the mascara smeared along your waterline - you looked ruined.

shuri regards you with a tenderness that sends you spiralling, she reaches her hand to brush along your wet cheeks before following the trail with her warm lips, exhaling her love into your skin, reminding you how much her heart belonged to you too. her lips meet yours in a soft press and she sighs as she pulls you against her body to ground herself.

she could feel her heart clench with the force of her love for you, she was never going to let you go again.   

how could i forget you? when you build house for my mind? and you no go, go outside and you no go, go. i miss me and you. but all i have is memories of you. but that just wont do tonight.

ஜ

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Another life • True romance • Mosquito • The aisle • Nice to meet you • Bury me • Internet baby (interlude) • Ophelia • Feel complete • Blue • Feelings (Demo) • Capable of love • Boy's a liar Pt. 2

Spotify ♪ YouTube

[venusianarmour]

[biblup]

“so imagined how stupid I felt when I started to genuinely feel something for you”

my tav and astarion’s dynamic is summed up by this song lmao..both too prideful to admit their feelings ahaha

i’ve been obsessively listening to this album nonstop it’s so dark romance fantasy core