#I suck at anatomy so dont look at the arm or finger too close

[sweetcorn-zhou]

dreamt about you last night

inspired by straight lines (that unwind you)

wont allow anyone who hasn't read it，its BEAUTIFUL

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 6

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We’re in the lion’s den now, thots.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You lost yourself in your notes for your History of Print class. The subject was dull, not true history, more so the anatomy of the press and the amount of prints issued from year to year. It was much unlike the description for the course but it was too late to change now.

You bent over the coffee table as you scribbled in a notebook. You were distracted enough by your effort to understand the significance of all the numbers that you didn’t think much on the noise of dishes in the kitchen. You sat up and yawned as you rubbed your forehead.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Lee intoned and you winced as you noticed his figure in the doorway.

“Hm, what time is it?” you went to check your watch but realised you’d forgotten it.

“Just after five, honey,” he said, “you been working hard.”

“Oh,” you closed your notebook around your ballpoint pen and stood, “is dinner ready then?”

“It is,” he smiled and raised his arm over his head to lean on the wood, “I even made us a special dessert.”

“Really, um, thank you,” you neared and he shifted sideways to let you through, his elbow still planted on the frame. 

You brushed against him as you entered the dining room, the table set for two and the light overhead turned low as a candle burned below. You went to a chair and Lee pulled it out before you could. You sat and looked over the red cloth and shining utensils anxiously. The roasted chicken steamed next to the French cut beans and seasoned potatoes.

“It smells good,” you offered as he sat across from you.

“I hope it is,” he said, “found an old recipe book in the attic and… not as easy as it looks.”

You picked up your fork and knife and cut into the chicken breast. It was juicy despite his doubts and you popped in a chunk of potato as you kept your mouth busy. You didn’t have much to say and you really just wanted to go. It was peaceful enough not studying in your loud dormitory but not much easier given your company.

“You like it?” he asked as he swallowed a mouthful.

“Mmm, very good,” you said behind your napkin, “thank you.”

📚

You finished up the sugary cake topped with strawberries. You stood carefully as you gathered up the dish and fork but Lee was quick. Despite his size, he was around the side of the table in an instant.

“I got it,” he insisted.

You let him take the saucer and he retrieved his own on his way to the kitchen. You stood tenuously by the table and pulled your lip down with your teeth as you thought. Would it be too soon to ask to go home?

You stood in a trance as his shadow blurred in your vision again and you were only shaken as he approached you. He touched your shoulder, his thumb rubbing the blouse as he gazed down at you. You looked up at him for a second then swiftly away.

“Y’alright, honey?” he asked.

“Just thinking,” you said, “sorry.”

“Don’t needa be,” his hand slipped down your arm and covered yours. 

You winced as he led you around the table and sat blindly in his chair. You gawked at him dumbly as he brought the back of your hand to his mouth and kissed it. He kept you in a vice even as you tried to pull away.

“That was sweet cake but not as sweet as you,” he purred.

“It’s late,” you said weakly, “I should pack up my stuff--”

“It’s Saturday,” he tugged on you, “why you in such a hurry?”

“I’m not, I just… don’t want to impose,” you murmured.

“Nah, you ain’t,” he grinned as he grabbed your other hand, “come here.”

“I dont’... what are you--” you gasped as his hands went to your hips and he pulled you closer as he pushed the chair back, “sir, I--”

“Lee, but sir if you must,” he hummed as he guided you closer, his knee pressing between yours, “just sit with me, honey.”

He urged you down and you caught yourself on his shoulders. You straddled his leg awkwardly as you collapsed onto him and found your skirt riding up around his thick thigh. You gasped softly as he framed your chin with his hand but kept his other firmly on your hip.

“S--Lee,” you sputtered, “please…”

“What, I just wanna be close to ya, talk a little,” he said, “this really is nice on ya.”

He played with the little belt loop on the skirt. Your weight rested heavily on your crotch and a peculiar pressure built as you kept your toes on the floor. You tried to ease off of him as much as you could.

“So you readin’ a new book for this club?” he asked as he dragged his fingertips down your cheek and stared at your lips.

“Well, um… can I please get up?” you asked.

“I asked you a question, honey,” his voice hardened, “you might be a quiet one but I do expect some courtesy.”

“I… just a book called The Bell… Jar,” you began, “it’s different, sad, grim.”

You felt awkward, sat on his thigh like you would a horse, and his eyes following the movement of your lips. His tongue poked out as he nodded and his fingertips poked against the skirt. His other hand crept along the top of your blouse and fluttered behind your neck.

“You like sad stories?” he asked.

“They feel real,” you said as he urged you forward and your neck ached as you tried to resist his strength, “but I like other… ones. L--”

He forced you against him, your hands crushed to his chest as he growled along your lips. He nibbled and moved your pelvis back then guided it back forward. The friction along your panties made you squirm and he flicked his tongue along your lips.

You tried to shake your head but he kept your head still and prodded more urgently. He rocked your hips again and you mumbled into his mouth as you opened yours. His tongue dove inside without hesitation and you dug your nails into his button-up. As your crotch rubbed against his thigh, you felt a flurry in your core unlike anything you’d ever felt.

You pushed your hands up to his shoulders and he hugged you closer. His palm slid across your ass and he stretched his fingers along the plaid fabric. He kneaded you hungrily as he tilted your hips more fervently. Tendrils trickled down your thighs and crawled up your spine. 

You moaned around his tongue as you quivered in his grasp. His strength was inescapable and something about the tickle inside you made it even more difficult. He grabbed your chin again and forced your mouth away from his. He gripped you tightly and made you look at him, his blue eyes fiery but dark.

You closed your eyes and groaned. You bit your lip as you tried to resist the building heat and squeezed his thighs between yours. You slapped his shoulder as your stomach pressed to his and he turned his hand to poke a finger in your mouth.

“Look at me, honey,” he rasped.

You shook your head, or tried to, and he pressed down on your tongue.

“Look at me,” he snarled and your lashes snapped open, “that’s it. This isn’t so bad, is it?”

Your lips closed around his finger as you teared up in a panic. Why did you feel like this? Your mind said you didn’t want it and yet your body felt electric. You were confused and horrified by your own flesh.

“Is it, huh?” he cooed, “look at you, riding me like that… I thought you was sweet, girl.”

You panted and sucked on his finger without thinking as your eyes rolled back. He hummed and moved you fast, pushing down so even more pressure settled between your legs. You latched onto his collar and bit down on his finger. He grunted but kept it there.

“Come on, honey,” he said, “you’re almost there.”

You whined and your legs quaked as you were overcome by waves of heat and then a flood of icy waves. You grabbed his wrist and tore his hand from your mouth as you cried out and threw your head back. You rode him on your own will, chasing the high until it faded.

You stilled at last and covered your face. You shook your head and muttered in shame. He lightly took your wrists and drew your hands down. You couldn’t look at him as you felt the wetness in your underwear.

“Why you hidin’?” he asked in a smoky voice.

“What did you--”

“Did it hurt, honey?” he interjected, “did I hurt you?”

“N… no,” you admitted, “but I don’t know… that’s never… happened to me before.”

“You mean, you never… came before?”

“Came?” you squinted.

“Orgasmed,” his lips twitched, “you never even tried to touch yourself?”

“Please, I don’t wanna say,” you gulped.

“You don’t gotta be ashamed, not with me,” he ran his hand up and down your back, “it was nice, right?”

You dropped your chin and nodded. Your lip trembled but you held back the tears. You were humiliated and helpless.

“Can I get up, please?” you asked.

He inhaled and rubbed your arms, “sure, honey, you go on get up… and get cleaned up.”

You stood unsteadily and reached back to hold yourself up against the table. He chuckled and looked down at his slacks. There was a wet smear along his grey pants but more overtly, his crotch was tented as his arousal pressed against the fabric.

“Look at the mess you made,” he touched the spot with his fingers.

“You made me--”

“You let me, honey,” he said as he stood and adjusted his belt, “you want it. We both heard you.”

“I…” you breathed, “but…”

“You hardly tried to get up,” he rebuked, “I’ma show you so much, honey pie, you just gotta relax.”

You stared at him but when his eyes held yours for too long, you had to look away. You squirmed and fixed your skirt.

“May I use your bathroom?” you said.

“Best you do,” he pointed through the front room, “just under the stairs.”

[baronesscmd]

@anubis-005 has graciously allowed me to continue writing her sinfully delightful Nene’s Inferno Au, so I bring you the next installment. I hope you enjoy, and thank you. And go check out all her artwork; its absolutely amazing and deserves all the love!

AH! DISCLAIMER! CONTAINS SCENES OF SEXUAL INNUENDO/REFERENCES/SITUATIONS!

 He dropped himself to the ground, pulling her flush against him. One hand curled around her arm as the other caught her chin, bringing her gaze directly to the smoldering golden stare that was attempting to burn her alive. 

Nene's face flushed as he leaned in, tongue flicking over the sharp fangs in his mouth as he tipped his head so the heat of his words brushed against her lips. 

"You won't be needing those clothes."

**

“EXCUSE ME?!!”

Nene felt her pulse stutter and pick up double-time as the demon leaned closer, claws pricking at the soft curve of her cheeks as her whole body burned from his implications. She tried to push away, tried to get as much space between her and the demon before her; he wasn’t having it. The hand on her arm slid around her waist, pinning her tight against his chest as he smirked. 

“Oh yes, my sweet little Angel; that uniform just has to go.”

She felt those claws curl into her sash and tug, and before she could even make a sound, before she could try and push herself away; he moved. His hand slid from her waist to cup her bottom and squeeze, and she shrieked as he hauled her up and over his shoulder. 

He spun on his heel, whistling as he headed deeper into the maze as she tried to get loose. Nene beat her fists against his back and kicked her legs, trying to ignore the sharp curve of his shoulder as it pressed into her belly.

Harder to ignore was the hand hooked around her knees, and the thumb that was making tiny circles against her thigh. Worse than that though, was the hand still on her butt. She struggled harder, flushing as he patted the soft curve of her cheeks. 

 "PUT ME DOWN! AND DONT TOUCH ME!"

Nene let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a scream as the demon chucked, pinching her as he nipped at her hip through the fabric of her dress.

"My my, aren't you a feisty one! You'll be great fun. I can already tell. But you have to behave, my Angel, or your new Master will punish you.

"And while I can guarantee you will not enjoy it, I shall have a delightful time."

She continued to struggle against him until the band around her finger began to burn. She yelped and folded, her chin bouncing into his back as she curled her hands together. 

It hurt, more than anything she had ever experienced. Like something was trying to claw at her soul, to tear her open and lay her bare. She watched through her tears as the demon's tail looped around her wrists, and as suddenly as the pain had come on, it vanished.

"Ah, fun little bit about that Bond, my Angel." 

She stiffened in his grasp as he drew a claw down her thigh before his fingers crept back up to pinch her.

"You cannot disobey me."

Cold stole through Nene's limbs and she went still and silent. The demon laughed, the echo of it reverberating through her own chest in a hollow imitation of joy. The tail squeezed her wrists, and she swallowed back her tears. 

Beneath them, the grassy maze gave way to cobblestones, and she planted her hands against the small of his back as he spun around. 

"Welcome to your new home, Angel."

Nene lifted her head, biting back a gasp at the palace before her; she had not expected something so elegant of a design in Hell. It rose from a tangle of wild roses like a crouching beast, sweeping up into the skyline like nothing she had seen. 

In Heaven, the buildings had been white, and gold and silver-toned. It had felt like walking through a dream, with open shutters and friendly hellos as she passed. This was quite the opposite. 

This was a nightmare of brick, wood, bone, and glass. Shadows hung from the twisted black iron of the balconies like discarded clothes, the stained glass depicting demons in different throes of lust. 

Ivy twisted it's way up the cracks of the black stones, twisting around marble statues carved in obscene positions. She averted her eyes as they passed a set of skeletons, entwined together, forever frozen in the moment of completion. 

And the arch of the grand doorway, before the demon carrying her turned on his heel to march her under it, was carved in stark white bone with the twisted limbs and slack faces of those who had given in to the Sin of Lust.

The inside was as hauntingly beautiful as the exterior, with dark walls and black marble floors. Golden lamps spilled light in fleeting puddles, and Nene saw more than one alcove with the entwined forms of sated bodies. 

He hauled her through the dining hall, whispers rising as the few demons who happened to be awake caught sight of them. Painted mouths disappeared behind razor-tipped nails as she knew they began to gossip, and more than one pair of hungry, hooded eyes raked over her form, leaving her feeling filthy. 

Nene tried to remember the twists and turns he took so she could attempt an escape, but when they passed the same low table with a couple half-concealed beneath it again, she knew he had purposely misled her.

Each path was more confusing than the last, some with high, vaulted ceilings that the light could not illuminate, and others with low curving beams that pulled the shadows close enough to touch. 

And the paintings! Nene could look nowhere and find a patch of wall that was not hung with obscenities. Even what she assumed were flowers, painted in soft brush strokes, resembled a part of her own anatomy that the demon's hand was much too close to.

He took them down a long hallway, the doors at the beginning doing little to conceal the moans and cries of the pleasure-seekers within. She flushed and tried to raise her hands to cover her ears to block out the sounds, but the tail held her fast. 

They turned again, and this hallway was silent but for the echo of his footsteps. His hand stroked from the curve of her waist to the back of her knee before he kicked a door open. 

Nene watched with increasing panic as the heavy wooden doors fell shut behind them, lock sliding into place as her heart sank. She was trapped, completely and utterly. 

She had no time to admire the room, richly decorated in swathes of black and red satin as the demon fisted his hand in the back of her dress and dumped her onto a bed.

It took her a second, as she was consumed by tangled scarlet silk and plush pillows as dark as a raven's wing, that she was not in just any bedroom, tumbled onto a sinfully soft bed. 

Nene was sprawled across the sheets in the bed that belonged to the Lord of Lust, locked in this den of depravity and debauchery. 

She watched with horror as he set a knee to the bed and dragged her closer, pinning her beneath his lithe form as she tried to get away, even though she knew it was useless. His mouth nipped at her throat, tongue sliding up her skin before he sucked a bruise into the tender flesh as he groaned. 

"You taste like innocence and divinity. And I am going to enjoy corrupting you."

He shoved her knees apart and settled against her, and before he could side his hand from her waist to her breast or between her legs, Nene threw her arms against his chest with a cry. 

She wasn't sure who was more surprised as he was tossed back, his black eyes lightening to amber as they both watched the pale gold band form around his tail. She scrambled from beneath him, not getting far before he hooked his hand around her chubby ankle. 

He didn’t draw her back to him, which she found odd, but he seemed more preoccupied with the sharp flicks he made to try and fling the ring off. The swing of it was rather hypnotic, and Nene gasped as his claws bit into her skin as he yanked her down the bed. 

She drew her knees up as he loomed over her, and she watched as his eyes flickered rapidly over her face, as if there was something hidden in her own gaze that would explain what had happened. His mouth split into a wicked smile and he hauled her up, locking one arm around her as she thrashed in his hold as he snapped his fingers. 

Seconds later, three scantily clad demonesses hurried through the door, all wearing the same outfit of a black and white maids uniform, and dipped into deep curtsies. Nene paled as he shoved her forward; the tallest demoness, who had ripped the front of her blouse so that her very generous bust could be seen through the heart shape, caught her by the arm before she could hit the floor. 

“Dress our little Angel in her new uniform; she’ll be joining you in your duties starting today.”

Nene whipped her head around as another of the demoness’ hurried away, the ruffles of her dress barely touching the top of her thighs. He couldn’t really mean to put her in something so revealing, but the sly smile as their eyes met showed that he absolutely did. 

She shrieked as the demons pulled at her uniform, trying to bat their hands away to no avail. The taller one unsnapped the buttons on her collar as the other pulled her sash free, and she could do nothing as the third came back with her arms full of fabric. 

They stripped her quickly and efficiently, though their touch lingered on her skin like a burn. She clung to her thin shift as they tried to pull it off, even as they knocked her off balance to remove her sandals. They couldn’t take her shift, she’d be naked; no one had ever seen her naked. The demoness caught her hands in a bruising grip and bunched the fabric in her free hand.

“Let her keep it.”

They all froze, turning to the Demon Lord reclining on his bed. His grin was as filthy as it was seductive, and Nene tried to draw her hands down to cover herself as his eyes raked over her, his tail flicking lazily against his thigh. She may as well have been completely bare before him with the way his gaze smoldered. 

“Yes, M’Lord.”

She didn’t struggle as they pulled the fabric over her head and harshly tugged her braids free of the collar, didn’t comment as they shoved her into the neat black shoes, muffled a gasp as they tied the bow of her apron with enough force to nearly drive the air from her lungs.

The demons hurried out as he snapped his fingers, one poking back in briefly to drop a mop, broom, and bucket inside the door with a cruel grin before it closed behind her. Nene kept her eyes shut as he crossed the room and curled his hands around her hips. 

There was nothing she could do as he twisted her from side to side and then turned her, trailing his claws across her belly as he pressed his face into her hair. She could feel the curve of his smile against the shell of her ear before he pulled away.

“You might as well look, my little Angel. You’ll be seeing yourself in it for the foreseeable future. Unless you’d like to clean in the nude.”

Nene snapped her eyes open as heat flooded her cheeks, and was surprised to find herself in a uniform that, while still inappropriate, covered much more than she was expecting. The puffed black sleeves left her arms bare, and the dark ruffles of her skirt at least came to her knees. It was actually cute, with the frilled overskirt and pink and white heart over her chest. 

“By the grace of providence we had one in your size.”

She glared at him as he chuckled as he floated behind her, magicing the bucket, mop, and broom into her hands. Providence, as if; more like limitless lechery, she thought as he adjusted her headband. She truly was stuck here, this wasn’t just an elaborate nightmare. 

Nene jumped with a scream as his hand smacked her bottom, cleaning supplies flying as he caught her up in his arms. That damned tail wound around her leg as if it had a mind of its own as he pinned her hands to his chest so he could twirl the ring around her finger. 

“And, my little Angel; a few more things.”

He bent her nearly backward as he slid his knee between her own, the tension in her spine the only thing keeping her from sprawling back over the bed. The ring on her finger seemed to burn with the same intensity as the one tapping against her thigh.

“You will be my personal attendant; you will wake me, bring me meals if I do not dine in the hall. When I do dine in the hall, you shall serve me. Ah ah, I’m not finished,” his finger pressed against her lips to silence her protests, “You will help me bathe, and dress, and cater to any of my whims.”

His hand slid down her back to cup her bottom and bring her hips flush to his. The hard lines of his body settled against the soft curves of her own with a familiarity that made her flush. 

“And I shall allow you to keep your innocence; for now.”

The press of him to the intimate place between her thighs made her whimper and tremble, and he only smirked. 

“Also, you shall address me as ��My Lord” or “Master” when you speak to me; is that clear, my Angel?”

Nene dipped her head and mumbled as he shifted against her, his tail tightening around her thigh like a demonic garter. 

“I didn’t hear you, Angel.”

She lifted her head, meeting those blazing eyes with her own as she curled her nails into his chest and watched him wince. 

“Yes, Master.”

He dipped his head, mouth a breath from hers as he pressed their bodies closer together. Heat flooded her at every point they met, and she let her eyes flicker down to his lips worriedly.

“Good girl.”

And then he was gone. 

Nene sank onto the edge of the bed as he swept his hand out and the cleaning supplies disappeared with the spilled water. He pulled open the door of his room and gestured into the hall.

“Come along, unless you wish for me to take you now.”

She shot up from the bed and hurried to the entrance, shuttering as he laid his hand on the small of her back to guide her. 

“You have much to see before you help me tonight, and I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

Nene felt despair sink into her soul as he led her back down those twisting halls. There were more demons now, peeking from doorways and corners as they headed to the servants quarters. Eyes followed her every step, and the whispers hung in the air like a death sentence. 

The Lord of Lust had an Angel for a plaything, and wouldn’t he have fun with her? 

Her master’s hand slid lower as his tail lashed against her with every step, and she bit back her tears. This was her own fault, she had gotten herself into this mess. And she would have to be the one to get herself out. There would be no Divine Intervention to save her; the Angels did not listen to the cries that rose from Hell. 

If Nene wanted to escape, she’d have to do it herself.

And @anubis-005 Thank you SOOO much for this again! It is, as always, an honor and pleasure to work with you!!! <3 :3

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

PICNIC DAY

Che “Taza” Romero x Reader

@arveeee asked: Hi there! Would you write some Taza story, where he is taking you for a ride, and you dont feel like it, and start to grumble about it, he gets mad, but at the end you found out that he is taking you to some amazing picnic spot, where he prepared romantic dinner, so you end up with some angry make up sex?

@redheadonfire20 asked: Could you write an imagine for taza where he and the reader are dancing and it leads to smut? Btw your writing is amazing!

WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUT

Word Count: 1.5k

Author comments: This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You finally sit on the copilot seat of the big SUV, frowning and crossing your arms over your chest, after a fifteen minutes fight because you don't want to go out of the ranch. You've been working the whole week at the hospital, you're tired, frustrated and hungry. One of the worst combination of all time. But Taza wants to spend some time together, and you understand it. You miss him too. But you don't see the reason to do it out of your home, going to San Diego.

When he leaves some things inside the trunk, he have a sit by your side, closing the door and looking at you for an instant. Forcing you to find his pleased eyes with two fingers under your chin, he smirks leaning towards you to press your lips with his. And you fall for him again. It's impossible to be mad at this man, kissing you so soft and gently that makes you sigh completely in love.

“You will like it, I promise”.

“I know”. You confess placing a hand on the back of his head, to push him closer over your seat. “I'm sorry for yelling you before”.

“I am too”. He replies back, giving you a last smooth kiss. “Rest a little more, you have two hours”.

Nodding while you adjust the seat belt above your chest and abdomen, you get comfy by curling both legs against your body and resting your head on the window, with a hand holding Taza's forearm. If you're not touching him, you can't sleep.

One of your favorite songs plays on the phone close to your feet, moving slow, barefoot on the warm sand. Your head resting on his chest, closed eyes, almost dancing with his arms wrapping your waist close to him and yours around his neck. The soft breeze from the beach and the sound of the waves breaking on the shore makes you feel more relaxed than never. He wasn't wrong. You love these kind of moments together, taking pleasure of your intimacy without anyone bothering you. You've been together since three years ago, when Bishop introduced you, falling for each other instantly. And he's delighted of taking care of you after long turns working in the hospital, as you do when he comes from a ride. Something mutual that you two do without asking.

The night has fallen after eat the mexican picnic he cooked for you, while you were sleeping this morning. Quesadillas, rice with frijoles, fruit salad, white wine… Well, you can't ask for anything better. That man knows you well. And you know that there's no one better than him for you. A soft smile get drawn on the corner of your lips, when you feel him kissing your forehead so gently that bristle your skin with some chills.

“Do you know how much I love you?” You whisper as if it was a secret.

“Tell me, mi amor”. He mutters because, even if he knows how much you do, hearing you saying those words make his heart jumps.

“I couldn' live without you”. You just say with a slow tone of voice, to give him the enough time to memorize them.

“I couldn't either”.

Resting your chin on his chest, you can see him smiling like a child, leaning a little to catch your lips softly. Every kiss feels like the first he gave you at the door of your previous house, after having a party with the Mayans. Your lips know his pretty well, every inch, every taste on them… And you couldn't get tired of them taking away your breathe.

“Come with me to the water”. Taza asks you, feeling his hands going down to the dress folds, touring your warm skin with his fingertips so ephemeral that makes you gasp nodding, totally playing with your mind.

Taking off the dress above your head to leave it on the towel, you do the same gesture with his white shirt, letting him guide you to the shore between his arms surrounding you. The water isn't too cold, continuing your steps, until you're able to dive some seconds. Your boyfriend catches you again as soon as you come to the surface, wrapping his waist with both legs. Now you can feel how hard he is, cupping your ass in his hands and pinching it, looking for your tongue again with his own. You actually don't care if someone can see you, in the middle of the night, in a deserted beach unleashing your passion.

“Tienes que estar calladita, mi amor”. (You have to be quiet, mi amor).

You can't promise it. Che knows exactly where he has to touch you to make you scream out his name. And he loves to play with this fact whenever you fuck in public; in the clubhouse, in the Romeros and Bro. office, at Vicki's house, even in the mall. What can you say? Taza has you spellbound. You can't resist.

He pulls down a little his swimsuit enough to free his erection, pressing it against the fabric of yours. He always does, teasing you until you start to sob desperate. But it's somewhat late and you have two hours of road. So very reluctantly, he moves the fabric with two fingers, sliding his hard cock inside you. Covering your mouth with a hand, you close your eyes swallowing. It feels so good. You need him the whole time.

“So tight… only for me”. He soughs resting his forehead on yours.

Your hips start to dance from top to bottom, with his hands holding your ass and pressing you into him. At first you want to enjoy it, going slowly, driving him crazy; until you feel somewhat anxious. Your waist bouncing him faster, drowning your moans on the space between his neck and his left shoulder, biting his skin gently. His breathing is shaking, irregular and heavy, letting you know how much he likes it.

Taza pushes your lower back every time you dig his cock in your warm pussy, closing his eyes and trying to control the sounds that born in his mouth. You know by Vicki's girls he has been with a lot of women, and you can blame them, look at him. He's like the good wine, getting better over the years. But he has never been with someone like you, who follows him into every crazy idea he has. And it's not only because of sex, but because of you take care of him and love him unconditionally. That's what it makes your relationship so special.

“Fuck, mi vida…” You growl in his ear, biting the lobe before kissing the line of his jaw.

Taza starts to pounding you having help of his fingers nailed on your body, moving at the same time you do. Every thrust is deeper and pleasant, making you groan somewhat loud. One of his hands get tangled in your hair, pulling it back to arch your anatomy and have some more space on your neck to bite it. Wrapping him tightly among your legs, the pushes hit your g-spot making you lose your sanity, beggin for more almost in some sobs.

“Baby, I'm so close”. You say with a broken tone of voice, feeling how your nipples under the fabric touch his chest, a signal that you're going to cum.

“Do'et, pequeña… I wanna fucking feel it”. He demands with a rough growl.

Bouncing above his cock once and again in a rapturous rhythm, you have to cover your mouth again to drown a loud howl full of pleasure, while your legs shake around Che's body. He's proud and delighted of you being so quiet outside, so he can fuck you everywhere whenever you want it. And it only takes him some deeper pushes with his abdomen colliding on your pleased clit, so spread for him, to fill you with his heat and satisfying you with the sound of your name mixed with his soft moans.

“Fuck, cariño”. You chuckle right in his lips, infecting him, caressing his messy hair because of the waves.

“Next time I'm gonna fuck you at the Templo”.

“I wanna wear your kutte”.

“Uh… Naughty baby girl… Sounds good, mi amor”.

You don't want to pull him away yet, but you do by placing your feet underwater and putting on well your swimsuit as he does. And he kisses you, as always, a little exhausted but with all the love he feels for you. Sucking and licking your lips, until reaching your tongue, walking backwards to the towel extended on the dry sand. Lying down there, you serve another two glasses of wine to cheers for another adventure together.

[hermannsthumb]

As per our twitter convo: Newt asking Hermann to help him take nudes for his current bf and “forgetting” to mention they’ve broken up...

THIS ONE IS FUN sorry they dont get laid until off screen at the end 😔 hard m, but still, 18+/not sfw

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

“So, uh,” Newton says, “this really isn’t what it looks like.”

Newton’s protests would be far more convincing if he took his hand out of his trousers first. As it is, Hermann can’t help but assume that the opposite--that it is, in fact, exactly what it looks like--is true. It’s to the credit of the sheer number of times Hermann’s walked in on Newton engaging in questionable acts that he doesn’t turn heel and march right back out of the lab but, instead, settles in wearily at his desk.

“What is it this time, then?” he says.

Newton tugs his hand from beneath his waistband, cell phone (curiously enough) in tow. “I’m taking a picture of my junk,” he says.

“Are you,” Hermann says.

“No, really,” Newton says. “I am!” Then he grins. “I’m seeing someone.”

This, at least, is not news to Hermann. Around two months ago, Newton began cutting out of work early three nights out of the week and coming back each following morning suspiciously ill-rested and in wrinkled clothing. When pressed, he admitted to Hermann--eventually--that he had begun dating again. (“Nothing serious,” he said. “A few guys. It’s just--I need an outlet, y’know? A sex kind of outlet?” “Yes, Newton, I understand,” Hermann snapped. He hadn’t said what he really wanted to say, which was I could be that for you. An admission like that was far too desperate. As it was, he merely proceeded to spend the next few weeks simmering with jealousy and fervently hoping Newton’s mystery man of the night would walk off a cliff.)

“Another one?” Hermann says.

Newton had begun dating again, but that did not necessarily mean the dates were going well. He cycled through them faster than he did pairs of socks. (The last one had kicked him out before they even surpassed “second base,” Newton admitted to Hermann sadly, because Newton couldn’t stop giggling over a joke he’d heard earlier in the day.) “Yes, another one,” Newton says. “He’s really cool, Hermann. Super dreamy. Brown eyes--a smile that--”

“Very fascinating, Newton, I’m sure,” Hermann interrupts, unable to help himself from bristling. He is not going to sit idly by and listen to Newton describe--well--effectively his romantic rival. “Unfortunately, I have a great deal of work to do today and I can’t stop to talk.” He grabs a random stack of documents and begins to scrawl across them blindly.

Newton is silent for an unsettling amount of time. Hermann looks up to find he’s jammed his mobile down his trousers once more.

“Newton,” he says.

“I just can’t get a good angle,” Newton huffs, marching over to Hermann’s side. “It’s all turning out blurry. Look!”

He thrusts his mobile up in front of Hermann’s face before Hermann can even contemplate averting his eyes, treating Hermann to an--indeed--very blurry photograph of what appears to be his genitalia. In all the times Hermann fantasized about being face-to-face with that particular part of Newton’s anatomy, he can’t say this is how he expected it to happen; yet, at the same time, he’s not surprised. It was bound to either be something like this or a lab shower incident.

Hermann pushes the phone aside with the tip of his index finger. “I see,” he says.

It’s is shoved back under his nose. “Do you think this is sexy?” Newton says.

Hermann says nothing, though the answer would’ve been yes. Newton could show him a photograph of his left pinky and Hermann’s lonely, sex-starved, Newton-infatuated brain could twist it into something dazzlingly erotic. He thinks if he were on the receiving end of the picture on Newton’s phone his brain might fizzle into nothing and melt out from his ears. He thinks he’s close to it now.

Newton shakes his phone. “Help me, dude!”

“I don’t bloody know,” Hermann finally snaps, once he remembers how to speak. “I don’t know why you want my help, or how I’m meant to be helping in the first place--do you want me to take the damned photographs for you?”

This, as it turns out, is precisely the wrong thing to say.

Exactly one hour later, Hermann finds himself in Newton’s bunk, holding Newton’s beat-up iPhone, as Newton attempts to wriggle out of his impossibly tight skinny jeans. His button-down has already met a similar fate, and it lays--crumpled--in the corner by his boots and socks. “You ought to know,” Hermann says, “that wasn’t an offer.”

(You’re my best friend, Newton said. I trust you more than anyone, Newton said. It’s what lab partners are for, Newton said. I really want to get laid, Newton said. Can you help me take my shirt off? Newton said.)

“It’ll be real fast,” Newton says. “And so much easier with an audience. You can tell me what works and what doesn’t, get better angles... Boxers on or off?”

Oh, bugger, Hermann thinks miserably. “Er. Whatever you prefer.”

“Off,” Newton says.

His boxers have small frogs on them, and they end up in the pile with his jeans and button-down after a few more minutes of strategic hopping. Then Newton spreads his arms wide and beams proudly. “Alright, cool! Picture time!”

“You can’t really expect to seduce anyone like that,” Hermann says to the wall to Newton’s left.

Newton’s arms fall to his side. From the corner of his eye, Hermann sees him pout. “I can’t?”

“No,” Hermann says, and--with a sigh--caves in and looks fully at Newton. His tattoos go all the way down. Not that that helps Hermann in any way. “The lighting is terrible. You have rubbish everywhere. And--you ought to be lying down, not standing like that. And--here--”

Hermann thrusts Newton’s phone back at him and proceeds to clatter around his bunk, making it as presentable as any living space of Newton Geiszler could possibly be without severe intervention. Newton’s dirty laundry is shoved out of sight under his bed with the aid of Hermann’s cane; the overhead fluorescent light switched off and replaced with the warm glow of Newton’s bedside lamp; the crumpled paper and crushed energy drink cans littering Newton’s desk tipped into the trashcan; Newton himself pushed back on his bed, soft thighs splayed open, mouth parted in mild surprise, gaze wide and eager behind his crooked glasses and focused in on Hermann. “Am I good now?” he says.

Oh, someone help Hermann. “Yes,” he croaks. “Ah--back against your pillows. And--your hands--ah, however you’d like them.”

Hermann’s mouth is dry as cotton and his hands are shaking as badly as anything as he takes a series of pictures of Newton, each one--somehow--more tantalizing than the last: Newton winking, Newton with his hands on his thighs, Newton on his stomach with his arse in the air, Newton with his hand around--

Hermann drops the phone, and it clatters to the ground. Newton sits up quickly. “Sorry,” he says, noticeably pink in the face. “Too much?”

“No,” Hermann stammers. “It’s whatever you--your date--would like. I merely--wasn’t expecting it. No, don’t get up!” He bends over and snatches up the phone before Newton can get to his feet. He doesn’t want to chance getting too close to a naked Newton (unsure of what he’d do, frankly), or chance Newton getting too close to him and discovering that Hermann’s trousers are doing a rather poor job of disguising his interest in the proceedings. Hermann might be able to explain it away by blaming simple gut instincts to seeing a nude, moderately attractive man sprawled about in front of him (as Newton, after all, is sporting an obvious arousal himself, likewise something to be blamed on being on display), but he’d rather not.

Newton shrugs and begins to rummage around in a drawer next to his bed. “Okay,” he says, “pink or sparkly, you pick.”

“Pink?” Hermann says, furrowing his brow. Is it lingerie? Some fancy underwear? Newton’s never struck him as the sort to tress himself up in bows.

It turns out it’s neither. “Good choice,” Newton says, and presents a garish, rather intimidating hot pink dildo to Hermann. “It’s easier to suck on.”

“Oh,” Hermann squeaks.

Newton insists on introducing props into their photo shoot (he calls it) after that, and it’s not until Hermann takes a third shot of a lab coat-clad Newton sucking away at an esoterically shaped sex toy that Newton finally stops and declares it a night. And just in time at that. If Hermann doesn’t readjust his trousers soon, he may lose circulation to the lower half of his body.

Newton presses Hermann’s hand with far more sincerity than circumstances call for when he stands to retrieve his mobile phone. “You’ve been a huge help,” he tells Hermann, grinning and beaming up at him. At least he’s left the lab coat on: Hermann might’ve keeled over entirely if a fully nude Newton got this close to him. As it is he merely wobbles, something which he hides easily by shifting more of his weight to his cane. “Seriously,” Newton continues, “these are exactly what I wanted. He’s gonna love them.” 

“Very good,” Hermann says. He nods stiffly. “I hope they work.”

“I have a good feeling they will,” Newton says.

Hermann has a very satisfying wank-off session in his bunk afterwards. As he lays there, sweat cooling on his skin, breathing slowly calming down, and the image of a labcoat-clad Newton cupping himself burned permanently into his retinas, he’s surprised to hear his mobile go off on his bedside table. Approximately two people ever attempt to contact him through it--his sister, and Newton--and he can’t imagine why either of them would need him right now.

It’s Newton, as it turns out. More specifically--it’s Newton’s nudes. He’s attached a small winking emoticon at the end of the series of pictures. Then (as Hermann stares at his phone, and the night’s handiwork, in disbelief), a moment later, my bunk?

Oh, how mortifying--Newton must’ve meant to send them to his mystery date. At least it was Hermann he sent them to and not someone else. Newton, it’s me, Hermann replies. Hermann.

i know ;) Newton replies.

Oh.

Hermann does up his trousers and stumbles out the doorway.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

my annotations for chappy 11 of ysijwa

this is just for drea and leyla to read so if you're not drea or leyla pls keep scrolling :)

ok this is pretty chaotic and like i said earlier i treated this ike a wattpad comment section so... have fun ig :)

SHERLOCK AND WATSON CINEMATIC UNIVERSE SHUT UPPPPP I LOVE YOU SM DREA

NOT MISS SNAP CRACKLE POP

jealous y/n you say???

now i know why you ignored all my tiktok asks lmao

HELPLESS OH MY GOD

truly madly deeply intended :)

damn he's kind of a narcissist yk? like "I have to be serious my entire family depends on it" shut up mr darcy you're not special

devout in his religion hmmmmmm hopefully we see some more religious trauma content bc me too vampy

awww he wants kids but now he cant have them bc hes... dead :(

AWWW his sister taught him to knit :( if he doesn't knit bloodbag a sweater i swear to god

stuffy moron is correct

"IT'S A FUCKING WONDER HE EVER GOT LAID" OIJRIOJWEIOJIEWOJFIOEJOF

"THE ATROCITY THAT IS BEING ACQUAINTED WITH NIALL AND HIS HORRIBLE AFFINITY FOR CHEAP FLANEL" ORJFOIJFEIOWJ YOURE SUCH A POET

he's so dumb she was with him bc he's hot that much should be obvious to him🙄

FOOLISHLY HOPELESSLY UNMEASURABLY IN LOVE HWAT THE FUCK DREA IM SAD

i love that he remembers the spinal cord dislocation and the dead leaves . like yea im dead rn but the leaves in my hair are really what's bothering me the most

what the fuck is a maw

ok i looked it up i get it now

"attachment is for gullible idiots" yup and youre one of them vampy 😌

"the warmest skin his icy fingers had ever had the good fortune to touch" im so soft rn

oh so now she has "a wholesome beauty about her nature" ? i thought she was just cute enough 🤨

HE THINKS HER SMILE COULD RESTART HIS HEART THATS SO CUTE IM OUHOIJFOEWIJFIOEWJ

"the responsibility of keeping her safe, satisfied, and happy" how 🥺 🥺🥺

"as long as he breathes" i thought he didn't breathe lmao BUT I GET THE SENTIMENT

"always when it comes to her" IM SCREAMING RN THIS IS SO SOFT I CANT

ill never forgive him for being so dense either his brain is basically a rock

HE WANTED TO COMMUNICATE THAT HE BELONGED TO HER IM GONNA HAVE A STROKE

couldnt be me i dont want to be percieved

HE ADDED A FUCKING BUTTERFLY AFTER THE DISCO BALLS IM OIWFJIOEWJFIOEJIOEWNOJIWJ(*H(WUIOFJIOEWJFIOWHVIFUEH)U)($UT

HEY a hamilton obsession is not childish😤

'the only person who was allowed to touch him there was y/n' he's like a little kid who's possessive omggggggg

oh this reminds me i rlly hope everything in that chest was new and had never been used on anyone else owijfowiejfioewj

oh please my irish king can control himself let y/n meet the other vamps🙄

"if they knew all along why did it take so long" yk im wondering the same thing dummy

"every day was a battle to earn her love and affection" wtffff how could she hurt him like that he is just a baby

i think he needs therapy tbh

yes he does deserve to be treated with respect and dignity😤

"supporting and tolerating them despite your differences" exactly unless they're a republican

IM SORRY THAT WAS MEAN OIWFJOIWJFEIOw i said what i said tho

they did everything backwards but it's what baby needed🥺

im literally gonna 🔪 bradley how dare he hurt my favorite ribeye like that

PROPER BOYFRIEND-GIRLFRIEND BONDING PLSSSSS im sure he makes sure to say stuff like "as your boyfriend' or 'since youre my girlfriend' all the time now

"everything that has to do with harry has always and will always make her feel safe and secure" ...who's gonna tell her👀

HE BECOMES CLINGY IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP

awwww my love language is also quality times bestiesssssss

(this is more serious you might want to change the words to nose kisses or something because esk*mo is a slur)

HE wants to be wrapped in HER arms and get forehead kissies like a little baby🥺🥺

i can tell you wrote this chappy bc leyla would never write about ice cream

IF CHRIST CAN GET A DATE MARKER SO CAN HARRY OIFJOEIWJFIOEWJFWI PLSSSSSSSSSS I LOVE HIM

ALWAYS FOR HER WEJFIOJWEIOFJEWIOFJOIEWJFOIEWJF HES SO IN LOOOOOVE

HE DID IT AND IM SO PROUD OF HIM🥺

omg i have a thot imagine if she got a heart murmur or something and obvi he knows bc he can hear it so now he has to find a way to make her get it checked out out without being suspicious 😭

HE ROCKS HER TO CALM HER DOWN WHEN SHES HAVING NIGHTMARES IJFEOWIJFOIWEFJ

“nearly blinds himself for eternity” what a drama queen i love him

maybe learn how to turn your brightness down grandpa

“can women sense emotional distress” why is this so funny oiewfjwieojfioewj

DEHUMANIZING OWEIJOIAJAKLFSDJLKSDJFKLD

not a psychotic episode 😭😭

crippling mommy issues woejfkljdklsjsdf me too king

awwwww he made her a full buffet i would cry

matchy socks im gonna sob

king is a chef 😌

y/n’s head @ harry’s clavicle rn: 💥

“his plush chest” drea its ok you can say titties

“absolutely flawless”? are you sure shes not just cute enough 🤨

he got her oat milk 🥺the sign of true love

hes such a shithead i love him

SPELLING HIS NAM E ON HER TUMMY IM HAVING ANOTHER STROKE

“I DIDNT WANT TO LEAVE YOU ALL ALONE” HES SO WOIFJSJFSDKJKLSDJF

HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO NIALL LIKE THAT 😭😭

RAPUNZEL HAIR OSIDJSKJKLSJF

she traces a tiny heart on him wtfffffffffff im sad

this… is hot

“theres no room on the counter” owifjlksjfslkfjklsj

HE WOULD WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR HER maybe then he’d be a little less cold

im sorry that was wrong of me lisjfskldjfwoiejewiojrei

OH MY GOD OWEIJFKLJSKLFJL SHES SO BOLD “can’t i?” OSIJFKSLJLKJF

oh boy hes gonna kill her

I WONDERED WHEN THE YOURE HOT WHEN YOURE MEAN THING WAS GOING TO COME UP

literally shut the fuck up mr english major

do it bestie kick him in the balls

SPARE BOOBIES MAAM I CNAT BELIEVE YOU aCTUALLY WROTE THAT OWIFEJWIJEKLJFOIEWHOEWIFEHFLKEWJFKLEWJKLJFL

IM WHITE IM ALLERGIC TO SPICE WEJFLKJFKLEJFLKJSKLJKFSJD

“character development at its finest” what a self aware king

y/n stop being mean to him baby just wants to feel close ☹️

“I’m anemic” ok king whatever u say

“ME AND MY CHRONIC ILLNESS IM SENSITIVE” IJFKLSDJFKLJSDKLJ

ahhhhhhh it’s yoga time

“just ask your cervix” jlksdjflksdjflkdsjflk

“if only you knew” ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

yeah y/n isnt like those other girls 🤪 shes different 🤪

yes bestie objectify him

THERE IT IS MY FAVORITE LINE IN THIS ENTRIE BOOK

PERHAPS MY FAVORITE LINE IN ANY BOOK EVER

“He hasn't been this stiff since rigor mortis”

i think about this on a daily basis i truly do

grey shorts? what a slut

“call the lapd im pressing charges” me after walking up the stairs

OH SO THIS IS WHERE THE GREYS ANATOMY CHARACTERS FROM THE SPOILERS WITHOUT CONTEXT COME IN

him using his shirt as a towel im BARKING

“I wasnt jealous” yea ok 😃

AGAIN HIM DRAWING HIS INITIALS ON HER SKIN THATS SO WOIJFSKLDJFLSJ

yeah harold she just wanted a little kiss 😤

yeah 😃 its bc he ran track 😃

no bc thats so fucking cute that she pretended she had never seen the show before bc he was excited to introduce her to it 🥺

I would do the same tbh i feel like it would be fun to wash dishes with harry idk why

“that skank” oisjksldfjklsjfklsdjflkd

YOUR THICK SKULL COULD DAMAGE THE MARBLE LSKFJKLDSJKFLSDJFKLSJFKLSJKLSJLDKFJLSKDJF I WOULD CRY

he gets her a cup of water 🥺

ok but like wouldn't she want to wash her hair after it got all sweaty at yoga

awwwww she got his toothbrush ready for him why am i so soft rn

memory foam mattresses sound nice but actually they kind of suck bc you sink down and feel trapped in them 😃

HE WATCHED THE TIKTOK SHE SENT HIM IM HAVING A THIRD STROKE

niall is probably on the dumbest side of tiktok idek what side but it’s probably annoying and he thinks it’s hilarious

noooo baby youre not a monster🥺 someone give him a hug rn

well actually you are kind of a monster but its ok we still love u bestie

I too run on caffeine and pizza pockets 😌

TONSIL HOCKEY WHAT THE FUCK OIEJFLSDKJFKLSDJFLSJLKFJSDKLFJ

chatsnap hes such an old man 😭

true lmao if you dont have social media i immediately dont trust you

not the i just washed my hands tiktok 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

HE FEELS STRANGELY PERCIEVED RN KJFLSJFLKSDJ IDK WHY THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME BUT IM LIKE LEGIT LAUGHING

DO IT BESTIE BITE HIM CHOMP CHOMP

“my eyes are stinging” hes such a baby 😭

“MY SIGH”TS ALL FUZZY” SJFKDSLJFLKDSJFLKDSJFLK

“are you all right” “I dont know :(’ i cant handle this my face hurts from smiling lksjflkjafklj

he has a kitchenaid stand mixer omg thats so sexy

ok but has anyone ever gotten salmonella from raw cookie dough bc i think thats just a myth

fuck u for that one vampy

wow he could never deal with my chronically ill ass

WAIT IS IT WAP

NOPE ITS BETTER LSDFJSDKLFJDS

I agree body is absolutely an instrumental masterpiece

I KNEW HE KNOWS SOME TIKTOK DANCES I KNEW IT

“I know youre kinda into that (getting smacked in the face)” SHUT UPPPPPPP SKJFSKDLJFDS

NOT HIM TWERKING SLKFJSDKLFJDSKLFJDSKL

YES YN GET THAT VIDEO AND BLACKMAIL HIM

“I think i popped something” ok old man 😭

why is the word wench so funny lkfjslkfjdslkfjsdlkfj

dont hand it over i want to see him snap

OH SHIT HE JUST JUMPED THE TABLE LSDFJSDKLFJLKDNMNXCMNJKHOIUIOEUR

oooooooooooo

OH MY GOD AGAIN SHE REALLY IS BOLD SLKDFJDSKLFJLSKDJFLKJFS

not guerrilla warfare 😭😭😭😭

do it bestie give him a concussion he deserves it

“no piece of art could ever compare to her” 🥺🥺

“remember that time you told me making out was childish” “no” i hate him 😭

THERE IT IS AGAIN “sex isnt the only way he can feel close to someone anymore” SHUT THE FUCK UP IM SOBBING

this reminds me of the dehydrated intercourse with demonrry

“don’t care, relationships are about sharing’ hes so sdjfksldjfklsjf

DO IT BESTIE KICK HIS KNEECAPS IN

suing disney for false advertisement 😭

THIS SCENE IS KILLING ME LKJFKLSJFLDSJ “just pucker your lips over it” “You have actual brain damage, dont you?” DREA I LOVE YOU KSDJFLDSKJFLKSDJ

how do those bubbles taste babe

ok drea wtf i was so happy and now this??????

“everything’s wrong” NO SHUT UP SHUT UP ITS HAPPY HOURS

not the boob privileges 😭

WAIT THIS IS FROM THE BSE MV ISNT IT “dance is just so hot rn” “depressing shades are just so hot rn”

NOT HIM GETTING ALL STUTTERY WHEN HE ASKS HER IF SHE WANTS A DRAWER 🥺

NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN THIS GENTLE WITH HIM BEFORE WTFFFFFFFF IM CRYING

“youre so fucking cute, my baby” me when i see literally any picture of him

JELLO HAS a STRONGER BACKBONE THAN THIS KSFJSDKLFJDSKLFJ

“betrayed. objectified. taken advantage of. used. “ i hate him sm 😭😭

OH MY GOD IS SHE GONNA SHAVE HIS FACE THATS SO CUTE IM

SHE ISsSSSSS IM SQUEALING

stop him worrying she’ll think it's weird and wont want to do it 🥺

“bold of you to assume id ever be convicted” PLS DREA LAKFJDKSLFJ

“the more you talk, the more appealing manslaughter sounds” I CHOKED DLSKFJDSKLFJDKSJFDSKLJ

HIM WHISTLING TO GET HER ATTENTION WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

Im sorry but its really funny to me how you wrote the sentence “wrong metal, he thinks ironically” … get it ? like IRONically lkfjdslkfj im sorry i’ll show myself out

“this boy?” what a fucking cutie i want to kick him

I forgot what a bop helpless is thanks for reminding me im gonna go listen to the entire soundtrack again-

theyre so fucking cute i hate them

so yea bascally this is the best thing ive ever read and i love you so much and my face hurts from smiling :)))

[rogersbabyyy]

anatomy lessons | roger taylor

summary: your best friend, roger taylor, is studying to achieve his bsc in biology and is currently focusing on the human reproductive system. he’s having trouble remembering his anatomy, so you offer some help.

pairing: smile/early queen era roger taylor x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k+

warnings/tags: SMUT!, fingering, squirting, oral sex (female receiving), foul language, best friends to lovers uwu, a bit of fluff

a/n- hi lovies!! this is my first queen fic that i’m posting on here. i hope you like it, and if so, feel free to send me requests or headcanon ideas for any of the borhap/queen boys! ps i highly doubt that biology students learn about vaginas in detail but whatever i dont care just pretend they do for the story pls<3

-

It was a quiet evening. Dressed in sweatpants and a jumper that you nicked from Roger’s closet, you busied yourself in the kitchen making a cup of chamomile tea, with the intention of sitting down to do a bit of reading afterward. Roger, your best friend and despairingly gorgeous roommate, was sat at the dining table, surrounded by a sea of thick and confusing-looking glossy biology textbooks, his eyebrows furrowed. He was trying his best to cram in weeks worth of information for a quickly approaching exam that he’d neglected to study for; you found it rather amusing. Not to mention, he’d been recovering from a hangover in bed for most of the day, and had a gig with his band, Smile, starting in roughly two hours. Roger was unusually intelligent, as evident by the university course he was studying, and yet he could be an absolute idiot when he chose to be.

“Want some tea, Rog?”

Receiving nothing but silence as a response, despite the frantic murmuring you heard from the dining table (he sounded like an absolute madman, talking to himself like that), you sighed. “Rog!” Sticking your head out of the kitchen, you yelled in his general vicinity for his attention.

“Mhmm?”

“D’you want a cup of tea?”

“Nah, thanks!”

You rolled your eyes and, nonetheless, pulled a second mug from the cupboard; you knew that he’d steal sips from yours anyway, he always did. As you put the kettle on and waited for it to boil, you leaned on the kitchen counter, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. You had a clear view of Roger from this angle, and it was entrancing to see him so focused, a sight that was usually only ever apparent when he played the drums. He was beautiful, as always, even with the frown lines that traced along his forehead, already dressed in his costume of the night with his blond locks a perfect mess.

The hiss of the kettle made you jump, and you flushed at the thoughts of Rog that had clouded your consciousness. Thinking about him like that wasn’t going to do you any good. You poured the tea, jiggling the tea bags in the warm water, adding a dash of honey to Roger’s cup, just how he liked it. Sucking in your stomach as you skirted precariously around his rather inconveniently placed drum kit near the kitchen’s entrance, careful not to knock the cymbals, you set the steaming mugs on coasters on the table.

Roger took a precious moment to glance up from his notes as you settled into a chair, curling one leg underneath you and nudging his tea in his direction.

“Said I didn't want one, silly.” He shot you a mocking glance paired with one of his signature smirks, yet tugged the cup toward him and blew the steam rising from it.

“Rather unfortunately for me, I know you too well.” You retorted. Roger snorted at the response, but promptly returned his attention to the work in front of him after sipping the hot drink cautiously.

“What topic are you up to?” You asked curiously, trying to catch a glimpse of the cover of one of the textbooks for any inclination.

“Human reproductive system,” He scoffed, flipping through one of his several textbooks frantically until he came to rest on a detailed, coloured diagram of the vagina. You felt a scarlet blush cloud your cheeks as he began chewing on the end of his pen, studying the image intently. You glanced down at the cup of tea in front of you, fiddling with the tea bag as a distraction as Roger muttered to himself.

“Can’t fuckin’ remember all this! Frenium of labia minora? Labium minus? What’s the bloody difference?”

Your thighs clenched together as he turned another page to a detailed explanation of the purpose of the clitoris and the existence of the female G-spot. Roger scanned the page quickly before beginning to jot down a note in his exercise book, murmuring under his breath in a staccato fashion as he wrote.

You’d liked him for years, since you were fifteen or sixteen and your hormones were running ramage. God, you were probably in love at this point. It killed you whenever you woke up and there was a stunning, tall blonde in your kitchen, helping herself to the eggs, wearing just a pair of knickers and one of Roger’s button downs. You wanted to be her. Even if it was just for a night. And when Roger suggested moving in together since neither of you could afford a full month’s rent by yourselves (you worked part time at a cafe and Roger relied on the sporadic earnings he gleaned from gigs), you thought that, perhaps, you had a chance.

Your train of thought was interrupted as Roger started up again.

“The most sensitive female erogenous zone of a female body is the clitoris… by stimulating the clitoris through masturbation or sexual intercourse… a sexual physiological response can be set into motion-”

Was he doing this on purpose? It was like you weren’t even there, as he bit his lip, concentrating, scribbling frantically.

“Roger.” His name came out in a choked tone, and you coughed once after speaking it.

“Yeah, Y/N?” He responded absentmindedly, frowning over another diagram.

“I can help you.” You were going to regret this. Oh, for sure. You were going to regret this when he’d reject you, and you’d end up crying at three in the morning listening to something sad on vinyl with the volume turned nearly all the way down. That’s usually what happened when a guy said that I thought we were just friends or there’s someone else. In those circumstances, Roger was there to slip in bed next to you and hold you while you sobbed into his shoulder and drenched his pyjama shirt. Not this time. Not if you fucked this whole thing up.

This caught his attention, his head snapping up, an eyebrow quirked. “What d’you know about this?”

You hesitated, starting to rise from your seat. “Nothing! Just teasing. I might call it a night, Rog-”

“No, you weren’t.” He hand clasped around your wrist, preventing you from leaving. Reluctantly, you sunk back into the seat.

“I’ve got a vagina, Rog, believe it or not.” You flushed as soon at the words left your mouth, shifting in your seat. He was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as his eyes studied yours. “You can look… if you want.”

His lips parted slightly, still gripping his pen, as his eyes trailed slowly over your body. “You’re… you’re my best friend, Y/N.”

You interlocked your fingers together, fiddling, the heat refusing to leave your cheeks, as you realised the stupidity of your suggestion. God, maybe you should just go to bed and cry and never get up. Roger set his pen down softly, his gaze never leaving yours.

“I want to.” It was barely a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear. You let out the breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding in a shaky sigh, your eyes meeting his; yet still not believing you’d heard correctly.

As if he read your mind, he repeated himself, louder. “I want to. Christ, I want to.”

Roger rose from his seat and offered his hand to you, a bashful smile forming on his lips. You took it, hesitantly, but gratefully, as he lead to you to the sofa and let you take a seat. He sunk down next to you, his arm stretching behind you to rest on the couch; a move you’d seen him use on countless other girls he’d brought back here. It was odd to now be in their position; oh, how you’d longed to be one of those girls.

“I-I s’pose I better-” You laughed softly as you tugged off your pants, leaving your knickers, clenching your legs shut self consciously as you glanced up at Roger. His eyes were dark as they surveyed the space between your legs, something he’d only come close to seeing when he walked in on you changing.

“If you want to… lay back fo’ me… and, uh, open your legs.”

You followed his commands, arms trembling as you fought to hold your weight as you propped yourself up on a pillow. Roger noticed, and his arm quickly finding a place at the small of your back.

“It’s okay, ‘ve got you. No need t’be nervous, it’s just me.”

Just him? Jesus Christ, you couldn’t believe this was happening.

As you settled into a comfortable position, you spread your legs slightly, causing Roger to bite into his lip.

“... May I?” His fingertips trailed over the grey cotton knickers that covered your heat (you wished you had the foresight to wear something lacy and a little bit prettier). A nod from you was all the confirmation he needed as he pried the fabric from your body, sliding the underwear past your ankles and throwing it to the floor.

You hissed quietly as the cool air hit your core, and Roger inhaled sharply at the sight of your pretty pink pussy, all spread out and ready for him. His boxers were already uncomfortably tight, his cock growing in his pants; fuck, he’d wanted you for years. You were his best friend, and this was all wrong, but you were fucking perfect. All those girls he’d been with, every single time he was thinking about you. He’d even gone as far to groan your name as he came inside some brunette tease he picked up at a bar (that didn’t end well for either party involved).

“Let me know if you don’t feel comfortable at any point, love.” His usual high voice had dropped an octave, becoming increasingly rough. His arms hooked around your thighs as he tugged you closer to him, making you squeal; you both laughed softly, breaking the tension for a moment.

His thumb came to rest gently on your clit, you were so sensitive, so needy for him, your pelvis bucked toward his hand involuntarily as you let out a quiet whine. Embarrassment washed over your face, and you apologised profusely,

“Shit, shit, shit, sorry Rog-”

“S’alright, love. Don’t say sorry. Only natural.” He smirked, as his thumb brushed upward over your clit; the cocky expression on his face told you that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Clitoral hood, glans, and frenium… the primary source of female sexual pleasure…” He muttered softly to himself, beginning to rub short, quick circles over your clit. Fighting back a groan, you gasped, clenching the edge of the sofa so hard your knuckles turned white.

“How does that feel?” Roger looked you straight in the eye, his expression serious, inquisitive, as if this was only ‘for educational purposes’, and purely platonic (and you both knew fully well that it wasn’t, not at this stage).

“Fuck… so good, Rog...”

“Can you be more descriptive for me?” He pressed harder on your clit, his cock throbbing as your lips parted in pleasure

“Oh, fuck! S’like… m’so sensitive, it’s like this pressure just building up in my pelvis, but it feels so fucking good.”

“Perfect.” Roger rubbed faster circles over the swollen area, almost coming in his pants at your expression; the way your pretty eyes fluttered shut, your jaw relaxing, your back arching up from the couch. He resisted the urge to squeeze his cock for some kind of relief, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Despite how blissed out you looked with just him playing with your clit, if Roger’s many sexual encounters had taught him anything, it was that you needed friction.

He pulled away, making you whimper at the loss of contact. “Sorry, babe. I want t’make you come, alright?” He fought back a grin as his fingers rubbed over your entrance. God, he was going to be the death of you.

“When a woman is sexually excited, blood flow increases to the genitals so that the vulva and clitoris swell and the vagina lubricates itself…” He recited, spreading the wetness leaking from your entrance over your pussy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” Your hips bucked upward toward his hand again.

“So wet for me, aren’t you?” He murmured. “And there’s the labium majus, labium minus, all part of the vulva… Can I put a finger in you, love? Jus’ to have a feel.”

“Please, Rog, I need you.”

His cock throbbed once again, and Roger felt his boxers becoming uneasily wet due to the precum leaking from the tip of his cock. His finger entered you slowly, yet quite easily; you were so fucking wet. A moan caught in your throat as your pussy contracted around his finger, and Roger hissed softly. He could only imagine too well how he’d feel inside you.

“Fuckin’ tight little pussy you’ve got, hm?” He withdrew his finger slightly, only to thrust it in further. “Another one, babe?”

You nodded frantically as Roger pushed his ring finger into you. “All feels perfect, if you were wonderin’. No cuts or bumps. Perfect, smooth little pussy.” His fingers increased their pace, beginning to fuck you hard and fast. You’d been fingered plenty of times, but never like this. You’d faked orgasms plenty of times, but tonight, you knew that wouldn’t need to be the case.

“See if I can find your G-spot, huh? Shall I make you come? Give you the best fuckin’ orgasm you’ve ever had?”

You let out an obscene moan worthy of a porn movie at his words, spasming around his fingers. “Please, please, let me come Rog, wanna come so bad-”

Fuelling his ego, his fingers pushed deeper inside you, curling upward, searching for your G-spot; a slightly rougher spot of the vagina that he knew, if he touched it just right, was going to make you come like you never had before.

“I’ve wanted you for so long, Y/N. So long. Since we were sixteen, wanted to see you under me like this, wanted to make you come and scream my fuckin’ name.” His fingers sped up and suddenly curled just right, touching a spot inside you that no guy had ever found, making you scream as you clutched blindly at the sofa cushions.

“That’s it, huh? Are you close, love? Ready to come around my fingers?”

“Yes! Roger, please, please, please, I’m so close-!”

His fingers were a blur, his free hand gripping your hip to hold your squirming body still. Your slickness coated his fingers, sweaty tendrils of hair framing your pleasure stricken features, your hardened nipples apparent through your sweater. You looked so beautiful, he couldn’t help himself as he leant down to press his mouth to your clit, flicking his tongue expertly over the bundle of nerves.

“FUCK, Roger, oh my God, fuck, I’m gonna come, m’gonna come-”

“Come for me, darlin’,” He murmured against your heat, the vibrations from his voice and his fingers repeatedly nudging your G-spot sending you over the edge. A plunging shudder overcame your nervous system, a terrific gasp and a string of obscene curses the only indication that you were coming; well, that and the clear juices that ejaculated from your pussy and took Roger by surprise only for a moment. His hips thrust into the sofa for some kind of relief as he lapped at your core to gather the juices on his tongue. He’d made you squirt.

As you came down from your orgasm (still quite literally seeing stars), snapping your legs shut against the cool air that was enough to overstimulate your clit, you noticed the mess you’d made.

“Shit, ‘ve never done that before,” You were still trembling, looking in shock at the soaked sofa and Roger’s gleaming chin which he wiped with the back of his hand, beaming. “M’ so sorry, Rog, m’ so embarrassed-”

“It was so fuckin’ hot. Don’t you dare apologise, love, I almost came in my jocks. You’re beautiful. You’re so beautiful.”

“Fuck, you’re good, Roger, that was… that was incredible.”

“M’ not bad, am I?” He smirked and gently kissed your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up, darlin’.” He left the room and you took a moment to catch your breath and get your head straight. You were scared to think of what would happen after this. What if it was just one of those things you’d never speak about again, like when you caught him getting a blowjob in the bathroom of the apartment?

You didn’t get a chance to ponder this any further as Roger returned with a warm, damp towel, resuming his position beside you.

“Can you open for me, babe?” His voice was gentle, his free hand resting delicately on the side of your thigh. Slowly, your prised your still-trembling legs open. Roger’s face became concentrated as he carefully wiped the insides of your thighs and your entrance. The latter made you shudder, and he apologised softly.

“Sorry, love, you must be so sensitive.”

He finished up quickly, touching you as if you were made of porcelain, before wiping the sofa down, before folding the towel and setting it to the side.

“What you said before…” You paused, as you adjusted yourself so that you were sitting upright.

“Yeah, love?”

“That, since we were teenagers…” You trailed off, and it was his turn to blush.

“Yeah… yeah. I really like you. A lot. Have for a long time. I just didn’t want to fuck it up, I wasn’t ready to commit and I couldn’t hurt you, not like that. You deserve better than me.”

And in one swift motion, you looped your arms around his neck and pressed your lips to his, a kiss strangely more intimate that the experience that you both just shared. Roger responded instantly, groaning into your mouth, his palms sliding across your back to pull you closer to him. The kiss was wet and messy and passionately open mouthed as years of yearning for one another came to fruition. His hand cradled your face as his tongue danced desperately with yours, and he only pulled away when it became apparent that neither of you could breathe.

You laughed breathlessly, causing him to smile, as you looked him straight in the eye and proclaimed, “I think I like you too.”

-

Roger persuaded you to join him at the Smile gig that night. You rocked up to the small pub hand in hand, a subtle way of announcing to the all the people that knew you both what had happened. Brian simply grinned; a man of pure intelligence and intuition, he knew this was a long time coming. And when the usual gaggle of girls approached Roger afterward, he could sense your visible discomfort. So, he simply slipped his arm around your waist and pressed his lips flush to yours in front of everyone, much to your utter embarrassment. Yet, you couldn’t hide the smile that refused to leave your face afterward, earning Roger’s gentle teasing as he laughed and pecked one of your rosy cheeks.

Finally, that night, as you became distracted with saying goodbye to Tim and his partner, Brian took the chance to slap Roger on the back, leaning down to speak in a hushed tone, “Don’t fuck this one up. She’s brilliant.”

“Never.”

[zayashmaya]

Gods and Monsters - 1- Carmen.

Lanque Bombyx x Reader; NSFW 

You've finally lost your innocence. Do you still get to keep your soul?

Did you have it to begin with?

(hopefully part one of a series if i dont get lazy)

Darling, darling, doesn't have a problem Lying to herself 'cause her liquor's top shelf It's alarming honestly how charming she can be Fooling everyone, telling them she's having fun

- Lana Del Rey 

In retrospect, you should have known better.

Of all the Alternians you had crossed paths with, you had a sneaking suspicion that Lanque was one of the most dangerous. You sensed his volatile capriciousness the instant he had set eyes on you after tossing away Lynera like a rag doll.

And you knew he would do the same to you — except you currently found yourself pressed up against a door with your legs wrapped around his slender waist, and when he nipped your lower lip and dipped his tongue into your open mouth, digging his perfectly manicured claws into your thighs, you found yourself unwilling to complain.

Your fingers tangled themselves into his short hair, marveling at how soft and sleek it felt in stark contrast to the solid obstruction of his horns. He jolted ever so slightly as you accidentally grazed the base of a horn, and unsure of whether or not that had been in warning or anticipation, you decided to test the boundaries by gently trailing your fingertips along the sloped curve. The sharp tip dug into the back of your hand, but you welcomed the pain.

You were rewarded with a rumbling purr against your lips. Victory was doused in short order when he pulled away to look at your flustered state, his facade stubbornly pristine compared to your flushed cheeks and graceless panting. You wanted him to steal your breath again.

“How badly do you Want this, babe?” he teasingly asked, unashamedly grinning at your frustrated expression.

A shiver shot down your spine at the sound of his nickname for you, but you would not let him win. You ground your hips against his in answer, hoping that the nuanced signal transcended species and told him to hurry the fuck up.

He hummed and curled his hands beneath your ass, matching your movement with a slow, deliberate thrust as you loosened his shirt from his shoulders, smoothing your heated touch along his exposed sinewy chest. A flash of green at his sides nearly stole your attention before you found yourself shoved roughly against the door. You gasped as he angled his head to latch onto your neck with a sucking kiss, all teeth and tongue and fangs that dared to draw blood, and you could not help the desperate moan that escaped you.

The seat of your panties was completely soaked by now. You prayed to the mirthful Messiahs that Lanque had something to fill you up in all the ways that counted, and suddenly your rash decision hit you like a ton of bricks. How were you planning to make this work without understanding troll anatomy?

It seemed Lanque was too far gone to consider this point. Somehow your bra had been unclipped during your panicked rumination, and you arched your back when he pinched your nipple and circled it with the pad of his thumb. You sneaked a quick look at him to see whether he was put off by your alien features, but he caught you in the act and hid his face in your neck once more.

Lower and lower his lips travelled, licking a trail down your pulse and across an exposed shoulder as your cape slid down your body. Lanque released his hold on your legs and pressed his hands against your abdomen, his fingers instinctively curling around your sides as though in search of something. You flinched and giggled at the ticklish sensation, meekly looking down at his inscrutable expression as he narrowed his eyes up at you.

“You’re cute when you pout,” you innocently remarked.

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second before pursing his lips and swiftly moving his hands down your hips to drag your shorts and stockings down in one go. You braced yourself against the door and stepped out of the clothing pile to toe off your shoes, shyly spreading your legs as his touch trailed teasingly closer to the edge of your panties.

Lanque kneeling before you with hooded eyes and a cocky grin was a sight to behold. You were sure he was ready to jump straight to the goal of the evening with how he stared at you, but he continued his maddening kisses along your abdomen and skirting your clothed crotch to nip at your quivering thighs.  

It was driving you mad. You caressed his horns with all the finesse you could muster in your sensitized state and canted your hips towards him, earning you a chuckle and a chastising bite to your inner thigh. A part of you wondered if he was taking this long because he was reluctant find out what lurked behind your underwear, but that thought was immediately stamped down as you felt him curl a finger into the band at your waist and finally tug the last bit of clothing down, and of course he would do it as slowly as he possibly could, just to get a rise out of you.

You were finally completely bare, shivering lightly from the exposed air as Lanque regarded you with clinical curiosity.

“Hmm.” He brazenly trailed a finger through your wet folds. “And What am I supposed to do With this?”

Damn. Straight to the point. You nervously shuffled in place and decided to simply show him, leading his slick finger to your clit and moved it in tight circular motions. “This is where it feels the best,” you explained with a quiver in your voice, and you ignored his unimpressed stare as you moved his finger down to slip into your cunt. “And this is where … you know.”

“Ah!” Lanque instantly perked up, adding a second finger as he pumped them in unison. “Perhaps We are not quite so different after all,” he mused, holding your hips still to prevent you from grinding into his touch while those maddeningly long digits entered you to the last knuckle.

You were torn between wanting to watch him and closing your eyes from pleasure. “Lanque," you whimpered, and bit your lip at the slip-up. He smirked at your loss of self control and pulled out his fingers, examining the slickness left behind.

And when he held your stare as he licked his fingers clean, your last shred of decency finally snapped. Lanque was still wearing far too much clothing, you decided, and you pushed him back onto the carpeted floor to straddle his waist as he let out an undignified yelp. He looked disarmingly attractive whenever he lost his composure, just as he had on the dance floor when Bronya appeared, but you had the sneaking suspicion that pointing out his moments of weakness would only rile him up.

You tossed your thought aside and sought out his lips for more blackberry flavored kisses. He indulged your demands with ease, letting your tongue to tangle with his as he wrapped his arms around you. But you were far past simple kissing now. You abruptly ended the kiss and continued your exploration down his chest while he folded his arms behind his head and lazily watched you.

Green reappeared at the edge of your vision when you reached the top of his pants. You paused and leaned up a bit, curiously noting the twin pair of jade streaks at either side of his lower torso. “Grub scars,” he briskly explained, rolling his hips up in impatience. Clearly, this was not going to be a learning experience for you.

That’s fine, you thought. You were feeling rather restless yourself, and with that thought fueling your renewed determination, you helped him out of the rest of his clothing and settled atop him once more, eager to ride some alien dick for the first time in your life.

Except nothing made sense down there. What the hell were you looking at? No alien dick in sight.

Lanque was waiting for your next move, and damn did that cold silence unnerve you and remind you of your inadequacies. You felt your spirits falter and whither.

“You really don’t knoW What you’re doing, do you?” You stuttered under the weight of his sharp, judgmental stare. He allowed you to flounder in your embarrassment for a moment longer before sighing, and you were suddenly face to face with a deceptively saccharine smile as he brought you down for a rough kiss.

He pulled away from you to breathe. “I — I’m sor — “ you began, and ended in a startled gasp as you found yourself flipped over to lay sprawled over the rug, with Lanque straddling your hips and leaning over you.

He cupped your cheek and pressed a thumb over your lips. “No need for that,” he cooed. “The fault is mine, for having been presumptuous. After all, I’d imagine you Wouldn’t find many suitors, looking the Way you do …”

You bristled at that. This guy really had a gift for landing low blows at inopportune moments, didn’t he?

Whether Lanque sensed your discomfort or not, you did not know. But having his full weight pressed against your overheated body offered you far more bliss than winning an argument could offer, and you decided to let his snide remark slide for now.

One of his hands grasped the back of your knee to lift your leg a little higher. You obediently endured his manhandling, captivated by his half-sneer, half-smile. So lost in admiration were you that you were entirely thrown off by the feeling of something cold and wet and thick slide between your folds, giving you just the right amount of stimulation against your clit as you arched your back and moaned.

“Are you ready for me, darling?” Lanque asked, and it didn’t matter how sarcastically he said that damn nickname because yes you were beyond ready, canting your hips in anticipation and seeking out more of that strange texture until he entered you with a single, powerful thrust.

Oh. Oh, that felt —

God, you haven’t ever felt this full.

Your mouth parted in a silent gasp as Lanque hilted himself inside you, and a small part of you thrilled at the state of him — quivering and grasping onto you, breath quickened and eyes shut tight, and those sharp fangs digging into his bottom lip so harshly that you thought he might draw blood. You smoothed your hands down his sides and accidentally grazed the grub scars, startling Lanque out of his momentary trance. If you focused hard enough through the dim light, you could see his black pupils constricted like a wild feline, dangerous and staring right at you.

“I didn’t think you Would be so damn burning hot," he rasped, and — and — what the fuck, you feel him wriggling inside you —

No time to think. Lanque was on you in seconds, pressing you into the floor as his hand dug into the back of your thigh while he began his experimental thrusts, rolling his hips in purposeful strokes and bottoming out with each motion. Your head fell back in defeat, unable to watch any further; not when he was fucking you so thoroughly, dragging out shameless moans and shaky sighs from you.

It hurt, if you were being honest with yourself. He was long and wide at the base, and certain angles had you wincing and shrinking back in pain. But Lanque was none the wiser, or he simply did not care — that wicked mouth swallowed your cries, wet and sloppy and formless in the heat of the moment. Your hands had tangled themselves in his hair, and for one brief instant you thought you smelled a flowery scent that had not been there before, but it was gone in a flash when Lanque angled a particular thrust upward and you were seeing stars, it felt so fucking good despite the pain.

Belatedly, you realized you had tugged on his hair a little too hard in response, but the strange sound it elicited from him — a sort of half cry, half moan — sent a wave of pleasure throughout your body. You loosened your grip and carded your fingers through the black locks, and you were sure he did not like that, perhaps it was a little too intimate for his taste, because he roughly grabbed your wrists and pinned them over your head with a low growl.

The lewd sound of wetness and ragged breathing drowned out the distant party music. For a brief moment you were reminded of your predicament — getting railed by an alien stranger in the same house where you nearly died — and as Lanque buried his face against your neck to stifle his cries, you wondered to yourself … how did you get to this point?

The old you would never have agreed to this, friendship or not. You would have followed after Lynera to comfort her, or at the very least, you would have tried to keep her away from the mature themes of party life. Some friend you were.

But perhaps the night was still salvageable. After all, you were getting rather … friendly with this handsome young man currently moving his bulge within you in the strangest sort of movement that would have been impossible for humans. He was oddly silent now, compared to his chattier demeanor a short while ago.

He’s using you, a quiet voice filtered through your head, taunting and warning you all at once. Just like all the rest. You’re a puppet, can’t you see that?

A sharp stab of worry pierced through your hazy lust.

No. No!

You wrapped yourself around Lanque, legs tight against his hips and arms dragging him close enough to cross the remaining distance between your bodies. His cool touch was soothing to your overheated skin. Your hand trailed upward and curved along the back of his neck, and you thoughtlessly nuzzled against his temple.

Please don’t let this be a bad ending — 

Fuck. You might have said that out loud.

It disarmed him. His hips stilled for the briefest of moments, and pressed as his face was into the crook of your neck, you could feel his jaw clench, razor-sharp teeth so dangerously close to your exposed skin. One wrong move and he could spill your filthy blood, the sin of your species and the sin of your clumsy mouth that never ceased to say the wrong words.

Lanque tore away from your embrace and held your hands above your head once more, redoubling his efforts to pound into you so harshly that you simply could not speak, could not beg him for more, for him to touch your clit because you’re so damn close now —

“Let me tell you a little secret,” Lanque snarled low, baring his fangs at you. “There is no happy ending on this miserable planet.” You could feel his bulge writhing erratically inside you, the tension in his muscles locking you in place as he took control, and you attempted to squeak out a response in vain except he had already turned away from you, squeezing your wrists so tightly you whimpered in pain as he shakily murmured, ”Not for any of us."

Just a little bit more. That’s all you needed, just a little bit more. But to your unbridled dismay, a flood of liquid heat suddenly gushed all over your inner thighs as Lanque pulled out with a quiet hiss. The startling empty feeling between your legs combined with the ache of denied release nearly doused your arousal altogether if not for the fact that Lanque was staring at his mess with an air of curiosity.

Could you anticipate a round two? Trolls had an extraordinary stamina, after all. You were quite ready and willing, too.

Except Lanque wordlessly removed himself from you entirely with an air of composed finality. You clumsily leaned up to look at the jade-colored genetic material he smeared all over you — and none on himself, you noticed — and willed away the stammering of your heart.

He did not even acknowledge you as he redressed. Your burning arousal simmered down with each unnerving minute of silence. Shame was starting to rear its ugly head, until you remembered with sudden clarity why you had ended up like this in the first place.

Friendship. Because that’s what mattered in the end, right? That’s your happy ending.

Lanque proceded to crush that naive narrative with his signature ruthlessness.

You should have known better.

And then he was gone without so much as a backwards glance. You fought back the sting of tears and shakily reached for your cape, wiping away the genetic material clinging to your skin and desperately trying to remove its evidence from Ardata’s carpet, lest she throw you into her red room for ruining her property.

You could not stop the disappointment welling up in your weary heart. It was a familiar feeling by now for some odd reason, as though you had felt the pain of lost friendship over and over and over again —

Before you could wander down that spiraling road of self-hatred, all of your bitterness crumbled away like sand.

What were you so upset about, you wondered to yourself as you struggled to stand.

What was the point of getting worked up over this? All of your lamentations meant nothing — they could not change the past, and they certainly would not move the future. You were a puppet to a warped narrative, and you would relive your guilt over and over again.

You will persist, and you will continue. You will, because you want to.

Because you have to. 

[tenecity]

from haters to lovers; zhu zhengting

from haters to lovers—a series where nine percent and you have the cliche, typical love story

warning: mentions of gender discrimnation

sosososososososo after much procrastination, crying and cracking my head, i finally got someth to possibly hate abt zzt hell yes god

also! taking into consideration tt china is still a v much conservative society, gender discrimnation is everywhere and rlly, as of yet, cant b helped

so which is why, imagine ure a chinese woman you found it weird, almost distasteful that a boy would be in yr dance class

i mean, guys are suppose to be strong people, doing more physical stuff like wushu or smth, and then there’s this boy here, doing pointe and perfect turns

“zhu zhengting is here!!!! oml doesn’t he look like a fairy?” your best friend tugs your sleeve as she discreetly point to the said boy. you roll your eyes. youre tired of this whole rave about him. literally, the entire class fangirls abt him; and apparently, it is not just for his looks, for also for his dance

spsjssjnsnsbs hE IS SO ELEGANT

you wld nvr admit it, but ok i guess ure borderline jealous.

i mean, his lines r clean, force controlled in his movements, perfect timing for rushed movements and then he slows down with such grace that you will never have 

but its still irks you, that a boy should dance so softly and gracefully. doesn’t seem to sit well with your traditional thinking 

so anyway, sidenote! you suck at turns wowww so coincidental

and every lesson, you usually would stay back just to practice it and you always end up with bruises and what nots as you fall repeatedly, no one there to catch you when you fall 

somehow, zhengting stays back today as well, rehearsing his main role in the upcoming performance, “swan lake” 

and you can’t keep your eyes off his figure 

it is mesmerising, how he can convey emotions, feelings, an entire story, through mere movements of the arms and legs. you observe how his every move is calculated, strength justttt the right amount that it looks elegant instead of overly powerful. 

and then you stare at the mirror and you sigh. probably why you only got a minor role in the performance. 

shaking your head, trying to push all those nonsensical thoughts out of your brain, you continue trying to turn, but you just can’t find the balance

yixing: balance baLanCe bALANCE

once again, your arms aren’t fully stretched out and it creates an imbalance, causing you to once again, fall backwards, out of turn 

you shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact

but it doesn’t come 

surprise surprise

eyelids fluttering open slowly, you realise just how close your are to zhengting, his ragged breath from his exhausting rehearsal fan across your face, inevitably making them the colour of cherries.

“you ok?” he softly asks, as he lowers you down.

“...yea im fine.” you mumble, head bowed.

“....do you need help with the turns?” 

“....”

“you know, you’re almost there. its just the part at the 180 degree mark, where you have to pull in your hands. your arms don’t always cross, or are pulled in too fast, which breaks your flow and speed and causes you to fall out of turn.” 

how does he know? bc he has been looking at you, dumbass

also i hve no idea how accurate this is i suck at body anatomy

you nod slowly. he makes sense. and its true, you always fall when you are just about to spin to the opposite side.

getting up, your arms are poised, ready to try again. 

andddd they become frigid as hands land on your middle, firm and supportive.

“look, its not even straight here. you need it to be 90 degrees here, before you can even start turning.” he adjusts you accordingly.

“im going to spin you slowly, and we try to perfect each section, ok?” 

he spins you slowly, your arms closing in in slow motion. he corrects you at certain parts, one hand leaving your waist as he repositions yr arm.

and now, ure facing him, head bowed as a flush colours your cheeks when u realise how close the two of u r. a slight movement will just allow yr lips to brush against his.

but of course his hand is steady as hell and he just turns you slowly and you face the other direction

which, makes ur stomach churn and disappointment flows thru u????

so skipskip next scene

its after class and ure packing up when u hear some commotion at the corridor

n u follow ur busybody classmates

u can barely see who is shouting bc u a cute shortie :)

but u recognise the voice

"NO i'm staying dad. this is what i want to do."

"No, no, no. teacher, im v sorry, but i will like to pull my son out of this dance class now. i will pay the rest of the fees, but he will not be performing that stupid recital-” 

“i am performing, dad.” the voice is calm and collected and you try to tiptoe, just barely catching sight of the brown locks

“no u r not. zhu zhengting, u r a boy, u cannot do this kind of girly things! it makes u look v 娘* do you know that? a disgrace, an utter disgrace!”

the voice rings as everyone falls silent, heads turning towards zhengting, waiting for his response to the harsh comment. 

“i will prove to you that there is nothing to be ashamed of.” he quietly says, bowing and turning his heel, head held high, with no sign of regret or disappointment 

as you watch the figure go, everything falls together like pieces of a puzzle

why he works so hard 

why when it already seems perfect enuf, he still practices, saying there is still space for improvement 

why he was so desperate to get the main role 

he wanted to b in the spotlight and give a flawless performance bc he wanted to prove to his father, that boys dont have to b restrained to a singular activity and stereotype. they can do whatever they want, so long as they like it 

guilt washes over u as u watch his father storm after his son, realising that this man is a reflection of you

new found respect is the word u will use on zhengting. 

everyone applauds him. an art form shld never be restricted to a gender.

ur heart opens up to him more, and admiration for him blooms as u watch him place high expectations on himself, doing a particular move over and over again, even tho in your eyes, it alr seems perfect enuf

just like how he is to you; perfect and flawless

its addicting to watch him. his pale arms, his clean movements, his strong legs, his silky brown locks, the way his eyes sparkle when he talks about dance, the way the edges crinkle when he laughs, the way he is so bubbly about everything.

and he starts to take notice of you too, helping you to readjust properly, telling you tricks and tips on how to keep perfect balance, how to put the correct about of strength into a movement. 

for the next few weeks, you end up gg hme later than usual, staying bck with more than an hour just to spend time with him, and not gg to lie, you r falling for him 

but... you kinda don’t rlly knw i mean 

he’s nice to everyone

what makes you so special?

anywayyyyyyy

FINALLY RECITAL DAY WOOHOO

everyone’s pretty hyped about it

but u knw the main dancers will be extremely nervous and u decide to go find zhengting in his dressing room, just to give him assurance, if he needs any.

“zhengting?”

“hmmm?” he says (???) as he turns around and oMLORD JESUS CHRIST IS HE A BEAUT

the eyeshadow makes him look sultry, the foundation emphasising how his skin is flawless and hydrated, his eyebrows strong and dark, a true prince indeed

he snaps his fingers, pulling u out of yr trance. “did you want to say anything?” u hear a hint of hope and u almost smirk 

“uh...you look good? and good luck.” you mumble, tripping over your words, unused to a god-like creature looking at u with such intensity in his dark eyes

“what did you say?” he teases, cheekiness flowing through his words

“i said,” you clear your throat. “you look good and good luck for your performance

how you wish to wipe that smirk off that face, if not for the fact that u secretly find it EXTREMELY HOT and your cheeks are flaring red at the sight of it.

“if u want to wish me good luck,” he leans forward. flirtatious. “how about a kiss on the cheek?” 

you roll your eyes and try to push him away but he is quick to grab your hands and stop them midway, intertwining your cold, clammy ones with his own.

“please?” 

“fine,” you try to sound nonchalant but the nervousness is so evident that u see the smirk creeping up his face again.

lips barely brush over the smooth skin and you pull away, blood surging upwards into the blood vessels of your face.

“bye,” you want nothing more than to dig a hole and hide your burning face 

“see you afterwards?” 

but u’ve already rushed out and he chuckles to himself, warmth oozing thru his being, and his cheeks flush as he thinks about the kiss you give him. 

he will definitely have to find you later to give you a proper one ;)

you guys wld b cute buBS UWU

my endings suck dbhasdjbfhjdbkjf

[kttypes]

To be an animal pt 2

Pt 2

About 2 years after this incident, Zeke was starting college. Having already moved into the dorms with a few days before classes began, he was nervous to meet his roommate. He only knew the name of his roommate and nothing more. Though the dorms were co-ed, the individual rooms were not. There was a fumbling at the door before it opened. There was Sam. Sam was what appeared to be a golden retriever standing on like a human. About 5’10” 148lbs, Human-esc feet and hands, just covered in fur and claws, normal knees and even a normal speech pattern. It was still difficult to get used to for Zeke and even harder for people like Sam. “Sorry” Sam said, “keys are still weird with paws.” “no worries, I’m Zeke, good to meet you” said Zeke being reassured of Sam’s humanity. “Oh you too, and I’m Sam… so i guess we’re roommates, huh?” with an air of awkwardness of small talk. “Yea I guess we are, sorry i already chose the right side of the room, I wasnt sure if you would care” said Zeke. “oh not at all, I’ve still got some more stuff to run and grab so is it alright if i prop the door open?” asked Sam. “go for it” and with that Zeke went back to figuring out his class schedule for the semester. He had decided to major in a new field based around the changes people went through and what happened to their bodies, it was a study of anatomy and physiology of the new world. Zeke mainly chose this because it was a safe college choice as for the foreseeable future this was a job field with many openings. The beginning of the curriculum was the same general studies as most other majors so he was looking at a pretty easy first few semesters. Sam swung open the door with arm loads of stuff and more or less let it all drop onto the floor as he seemed very out of breath. “Phew… one trip was all it took” Sam said. “Nice” mumbled Zeke and he felt bad that he didnt add more enthusiasm so he quickly asked “so what’s your major?” “oh, I’m thinking physical therapy for now but I might change it” “Im sure you could find a job with that” “well that’s what I thought except professional sports still havent been figured out yet and I dont really want to work with old people, maybe i’ll try psychology or something, OH, dude, there are some seriously hot girls at this school” Sam said with unexpected excitement. Zeke couldnt help but let out a chuckle that Sam’s tail was actually wagging. Zeke cut his laugh short “sorry, sorry (through a chuckle) your tail” Sam quickly whipped around and looked “ah damn it, i wish i could control that better, but girls find it cute so..(he shrugs) it’s not all bad” Sam began to set up his side of the room. With the door still propped open, Zeke couldnt help but notice the people walking by and all the noise of the coming excitement of college flooding the halls. There was an antelope, a cat, a human with horns and a tail. “So it may be rude” Sam said without looking and raising one ear “but are you uh.. Or do you have any um.. (he gestures over his own body).. Changes?” “none actually” Zeke replied. “Man you’re lucky” Sam replied “I mean there are a few advantages to my change i guess (he examined his dog like body) and it could definitely be worse, i mean i can still walk on land, but man is it weird” “what did you used to look like” Zeke asked and really hoped it wasnt rude. Sam’s ears both shot up as he pointed to Zekes laptop excitedly “yo, look me up on FB and friend me while youre at it… yea and scroll back one on the profile pic. Yep and that’s me! And my ex but nevermind her” in a weird way he didnt look all that different. He in no way looked like a dog before but there was an air of familiarity about it. There was a knock on the open door, “pardon me, am I to assume that you are Zeke and Sam?” standing there was a shorter girl (probably squirrel Zeke thought) with glasses. “I’m youre RA for the year” “RA? Zeke asked. “”Yes, youre room assistant, I will be this floor’s monitor. Basically if you have any questions or concerns or anything like that, you come to me, my room is just at the end of the hall. I’m Sue. My name is on my door. We will also have a floor meeting later at 7:30 so if can think of any questions to ask before then, thatll be great and im sure others will be curious about them too. ALSO” she sighs, “this building and therefore this floor are co-ed, I want to make it clear that I dont want anything crazy going on okay? I’m a sophomore so i know what can happen freshman year, okay?”. “Okay” Zeke and Sam both reply. She smiles and walks next door and they can hear her starting her speech again as they close the door. “Well that sucks” Zeke says even though he had not thought of anything of the sort until that moment. “Yea it does but im not too worried” Sam says and he whispers “they all try and scare you like that (he pulls out a bottle of rum, with a finger up to his mouth) my brother is a junior here and he said not to worry about the RA’s, theyre harmless and will break more rules than we will anyway”. Sam laughs and finally sits down. It gets quiet and weird for a moment as they both realise they are complete strangers. Zeke clicks on a game system to relax for a few hours before the meeting and Sam laughs and unzips a bag containing the same game system without saying anything.

   patreon com/ktwrite