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obaewankenobis · 11 months ago

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born to die ; finnick odair

pairing: finnick odair/reader (afab but i don't think i use pronouns? also no use of y/n)

word count: 6.8k

part 2: find here!

summary: having just finished your victory tour, you, the winner from district 4, are forced to confront the reality of winning the games. luckily, you know someone who's done this before — finnick odair.

warnings: mentions of violence, death, nightmares, blood, sex trafficking, i mean... it is the hunger games so read at your own risk! mutual pining, slowish burn, unprotected sex ( wrap it before u tap it ), p in v sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, idk it's not that bad. minors dni!

a/n: sorry to everyone who followed me for my star wars content... anyways here is my first finnick fic cause my friend made me watch the hunger games a month ago so here i am. i was super interested in the cashmere/glimmer theory so i kinda used it here. i have a prequel and a part 2 planned so lmk if you want that <3

There were things nobody ever told you about winning the games, things you wished you would’ve known before you tried so hard. Before you’d clawed your way up a cliff of desperate survival and emerged on top. Before you’d killed people — other children — to be able to stand here now. Your father, a former Victor himself, hadn’t told you about this side of things before he died. With a pang, you realized how badly you wanted him beside you, and how impossible that was. How you were now confined in shoes so tall you thought you might wobble over, in a dress so thin you were beginning to shiver, and a hairstyle that pulled uncomfortably at your roots. It all tied in for a look that was clearly meant to have all eyes on you. It was your victory party, you tried to reason as you slipped into the dress and noticed just how much of you would be on display. They wanted all eyes to be on you. It was okay.

You just wanted to feel beautiful again, to not be plagued with the feeling of revulsion when you looked at yourself in the mirror. The outfit wasn’t the problem, it was perhaps the most stunning thing you’d ever worn: a loose dress with billowing sleeves that fell off your shoulders and opened around the stomach, the silky material melting from transparency to a solid, pale purple around the parts that clung to your breasts and hips. The opalescent color, meant to mimic the expensive pearls commonly found in District 4, shimmered in the moonlight, threatening to turn even the solid parts translucent and expose every part of you to the Capitol.

Not that they’d mind, you thought, the words leaving a bitter taste in your mouth that threatened to rise to the surface, breaking through a perfectly painted smile and tugging your blush lips into a frown. You couldn’t help but feel that was the point, with all the oogling that no one was trying to hide. And that feeling… that is what kept you from feeling anything but beautiful. You felt used, and exposed, but not beautiful.

A hand on your arm startled you out of your bitter thoughts, your skin immediately crawling with disgust as your gaze traveled to the face connected to the hand still placed possessively on you. While not particularly ugly, the man in front of you was pushing fifty, and the lewdness dripping from his gaze as he leered at you, an eighteen year old girl…

“There you are,” his lips curled into an unpleasant smile; he was close enough you could smell the stench of alcohol on his breath, almost overpowered by the sheer amount of cologne that clung to him. “I must say, my sponsorship has paid off… handsomely. I mean, look at you! Such a stunning addition to the Capitol, I just cannot wait for you to become—”

“Excuse me,” a new voice — a familiar voice — cut through. “I think your wife is looking for you, Quillon.”

Of course he knew this man, he seemed to know everyone. And of course the man — Quillon — listened, his eyes widening as he immediately removed his hand from you, leaving an unpleasant dampness from his sweaty palms. He backed away until he had disappeared into the crowd and it was just you and him.

Him. Finnick Odair, Capitol Darling, youngest Victor of the 65th Hunger Games, the most insufferable and obnoxious boy you’d ever had the displeasure of encountering. You were sure he’d never liked you from the beginning; you’d tried to introduce yourself to him at fourteen when you accompanied your father to the Capitol to train the new tributes, only to be brushed off without a second glance.

That dislike had only seemed to grow when you had been Reaped the year your father had been killed (the rumors of the siblings and children of Victors being chosen so often finally making sense to you), and Finnick Odair, master of the Games, expert of the field, had all but ignored you.

“You!” All of the rage you’d pent up about his mentoring skills — or lackthereof — were coming out in full force, though even you were surprised by the venom in your words. With a jab of a finger in his chest, you finally began to let it all out. He seemed to have sensed that you would come at him swinging, grabbing your wrist and dragging you to a quieter corner of the party, beneath a small pergola weighted with vines that crept up the sides and wove inbetween the planks on top.

“Look, I know you must be upset — ” No. You wouldn’t let him talk, not before you had the chance to give him a piece of your mind. You took a step closer, until your nose was brushing against his, and tried to keep your voice as level as you could.

“Nice of you to finally fucking show up, Odair. Didn’t think you’d see me again, huh? Not after you all but fucking abandoned me during training week. I mean, I know we never really got along, but seriously? Is that why you left me with Mags and I never saw you past the first day? You hoped you’d train Kier—” the breath caught in your throat as you finally uttered the name of your fellow District tribute for the first time since… well, that wasn’t important. “—and then I would be out of your hair, is that it?”

Finnick, however, took this as an opportunity to spit his own words out, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard as he looked down at you. “I was trying to help you.” He was so close you could feel his breath fanning your lips, almost making you want to close your eyes.

“Help me?” A laugh escaped your lips, one that could’ve almost been seen as genuine because of the honest disbelief that coated it. “You think I’d be better off dead?”

He didn’t respond. Couldn’t even look you in the eyes, choosing instead to fixate on a tiny rose growing from within the depths of the ivy layers. That was basically a confirmation of what you’d just said, but for some reason he couldn’t even admit it to your face.

You weren’t sure why, but hot, angry tears were beginning to form in your eyes; you tried frantically to force them down. He couldn’t know how much he’d hurt you with his indifference. “You were supposed to be there for me, you were supposed to teach me how to survive, and you fucking left me to die!”

Had you done something? You replayed all of your interactions with him, coming up short with a conversation that would make him hate you so much he wanted you to die. Sure, you’d been a bit annoying when you’d trailed behind your father, and maybe you had been a little relentless to pursue his attention when he moved next door to you in Victor’s Village, but this? The way he couldn’t even answer you? The way he was just standing there, his gaze in some far off place? It made you angrier. How dare he be so indifferent, how dare he act as if he was doing you a favor?

There was a moment of hesitation before Finnick sighed. “It’s not like that. I was trying to protect you. Look— has Snow talked to you yet?”

This left you truly at a loss for words. “Snow?” You words were less harsh and more curious. “Why would Snow want to talk to me? You know what — don’t try to spin it on him, this is about us! About you—” You stabbed at his chest again, and this time he let you. “—about you abandoning me in that arena, when it was your job to fight for me! To keep me alive!”

“There’s a lot you don’t understand right now,” he began again, hesitantly reaching out to grasp the hand that had struck against his chest, and that was the final straw snapping; you were done.

With a scowl and a tug of your hand, you yanked it free of his grasp and whirled around, the flow of the dress whipping around from the sudden gust of wind. “Whatever, Odair. I’m done. If you can’t even admit what you did was wrong, then… then just leave me the fuck alone from now on.” You didn’t bother to look back, missing the way his jaw hung open and his entire face crumbled. If only you had any idea.

You found out soon enough.

“You’re quite popular now, if you didn’t know that already. Although you’re quite perceptive, I can’t imagine you don’t.” Though he sealed the compliment with a smile, it did little to soothe the unease stirring within your belly.

“Yes, Sir. I’ve noticed. Is that a bad thing?” You hated how weak you sounded, your voice faltering slightly at the end of your sentences, hanging uncomfortably in the air and weighed down with uncertainty.

“I knew you were a smart one,” he finally tucked the envelope in his hands into his pocket, his undivided attention now on you. “You see, with how desirable you are… there are certain expectations that come with that. We wouldn’t want the Capitol to be unsatisfied, now would we?”

When did attention turn into desire? When were there suddenly expectations, and why was it suddenly your responsibility to keep people satisfied?

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.” A hollow, empty statement, but a genuine one.

“Well,” it seemed Snow was particularly delighted by your response, as if it allowed him to explain something that pleased him greatly. “Victors have their place in Panem, just as all the Districts do. What would Panem be without Eleven’s grain, or Five’s power?”

Realizing it was not a rhetorical question, that he really wanted you to answer, you stumbled through a response. “Well, I— I suppose it would topple the whole structure. We… we can’t survive without eachother.”

“You’d be correct. The same thing applies to the Capitol. Without everyone doing what’s required of them, the Games fail to run smoothly. With no… incentives, shall we say, people… sponsors… become uninterested. There are things you, as a Victor and a mentor, need to do to ensure that interest remains. Do you understand me now, my dear?”

You did, oh how you did. And that was the worst part.

That was how you got here on the rooftop of the Victor’s apartment complex, wrapping a thin robe around the once pretty, now torn chemise that did little to hide your body. You barely survived the first night, there was no way you could spend the rest of your life doing this. No amount of hot showers and scrubbing your skin raw until it bled could free you from feeling so dirty. Tears glistened on your cheeks, highlighting your face in the pale dawn light and exposing your true emotions to anyone who could see you. Luckily — or perhaps unluckily — you were all alone in the Capitol, your family safe and sound because of what you’d agreed to, but so far away.

With slow movements, you hoisted yourself onto the ledge of the roof, telling yourself you wanted to get a better glimpse of the city skyline as the sun crept higher into the sky, not wanting to admit the real reason why, even to yourself. The wind whipped all around you, tearing the robe from your body and splaying your hair in different directions, but you felt as close as you could to freedom. If you just— took another step, or stumbled forward and fell, maybe you would truly be free in the entire sense of the word.

“There’s a forcefield. They wouldn’t let you get away that easily,” the all too familiar voice of Finnick Odair startled you out of your thoughts.

“Did you know?” You had to ask, but couldn’t bring yourself to turn your head and look back at his features, because you would surely crumble if you saw the look on his face.

To his credit, Finnick didn’t bother to sugarcoat it. “Yeah, of course I knew. That’s why…”

“That’s why you wouldn’t train me. You wanted me to die, so I wouldn’t end up like this—” you whirled around sharply to stare straight into his eyes for confirmation as you guessed what you were going to say next. “—like you. Because he makes you do this too, doesn’t he?”

Finnick was never an easy person to read, always hiding behind dimples that indented in his cheeks when he flashed one of his dizzying smirks. But now? You felt like you were staring at a statue, his gaze unable to leave yours but also unable to say anything in return.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, allowing the cold caress of the breeze to take hold of you. If only you could fall back, if only…

“I tried to protect you,” his voice cracked, finally pushing something past his lips and drawing you away from the dangerous thoughts fighting in your mind. “Don’t you see it now? It would’ve been better if you’d died in the arena, you wouldn’t have to do this,” he spat out the word like it was hot tea burning his tongue, but you noticed the crack of defeat in his voice. The way his shoulders slumped, the way his sea green eyes were fixed on his shoes. “And I… I wouldn’t have to see you like this.”

You did see it now; there was a fate worse than death. “I should’ve listened to you, Finnick.” His first name felt foreign on your tongue, as if you were speaking an intimate language only known to the both of you. “I— I’m sorry. I had no idea, I…”

He let your apology hang heavy in the air, flicking his eyes over your shoulder to the waking Captiol, evident by the honks of car horns and the chatter of thousands turning into a dull buzz.

You couldn’t stand silence, it reminded you too much of what followed your father’s execution, what followed when your name was called from the Reaping Bowl. So with a huff, you jumped down from the ledge and hoped he wouldn’t notice your disgruntled appearance.

Not that you cared what he thought of you. But one look from him and you were a goner; your lips began to quiver and you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Finnick, I… I don’t know how to do this,” a choked sob escaped you, and then it was all over and you were crying, shaking violently as you tried and failed to regain your composure. That seemed to snap him out of the haze he’d been in, his eyes flickering over and fixating on your figure, deep frown lines etching themselves on his face in a worried expression. “I don’t know if I can—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he didn’t hesitate to surge forward as you began to sway, the lack of sleep from the night before becoming evident in the dark circles beneath your bleary eyes, cracks in your skin holding onto tears that had long since been shed. He placed a careful hand near the small of your back, hovering over your skin before you fell back into it, like he was uncertain if you would be okay with touch. It reminded you of two nights ago, where he’d been so close to you but still kept his distance, not wanting to invade your space. His reluctance to touch you without your explicit permission made sense now, it all did.

“I just— I don’t—” Your body convulsed with gutteral sobs that sliced his heart in two, his fingers threading through your hair as he pulled you into his chest, allowing fresh tears to stain in the wool of his white sweater. “I don’t…” you tried again, wanting to continue despite the hiccups, “I just don’t… don’t… know what to do.”

You could feel his lips moving against your hair from where they rested on top of your head as he answered. “You don’t have to do anything. Not right now, at least.”

Time passing was the last thing on your mind as you remained in his embrace, soaking up everything about him, relishing in the comfort his closeness brought to you. How when your mind began to wander, the rhythmic pattern of his heartbeat brought you back so you could listen with your ear against his chest. How when your body expelled the last of its shudders and gasps from your breakdown, you could feel his arms flexing, squeezing you a little tighter. How when you pulled back from his embrace, he traced the red indent on your cheek, left from one of the buttons on his sweater.

“When was the last time you slept, sweetheart?” Finnick asked in a tone so gentle it brought fresh tears to your eyes; perhaps it was the sleep deprivation this time.

“I— I can’t go to sleep,” you began to panic again, digging your fingernails into his clothed arms. “I just close my eyes and I keep reliving it over and over again, I can’t do it again, I can’t—”

“I get it,” he stopped your rambling with a simple sentence, and you finally felt like you didn’t have to explain, he just understood. “Just… come with me, okay? You can trust me.”

Wordlessly you nodded, allowing him to guide you gently through the long corridors of the various penthouses until you arrived to one that had been occupied by none other than yourself. No, I can’t sleep, you wanted to shout at him, but remained silent. Trust him.

You allowed him to go through the motions of a bedtime routine, paying no attention to the fact that it was probably breakfast time. Pulling back one side of the blanket, he patted the uncovered space, motioning you to come lay down beside where he sat.

“Finnick, I can’t…” I can’t sleep.

He shook his head, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just trust me, okay? Come and lay down, you don’t even have to sleep.”

Reluctantly, you threw the robe off of you and on to a chair, trying very hard to ignore the fact that the nightgown underneath did little to hide your body, reaching just past the tops of your thighs and exposing most of your legs. But Finnick didn’t even seem to notice, watching just your face as you settled into bed beside him, laying stiffly on your back until he motioned for you to roll over on your side, facing away from him.

“What are you—” you were shushed yet again and tried to comply, feeling a bit odd facing away from him when he was supposed to be distracting you.

You suppressed a shiver as his finger came into contact with your back, the thin silk of the nightgown doing little as a barrier and feeling more of a second skin. He began to trace a pattern— wait, were those letters?

“Finnick, what are you doing?” You forced back the beginnings of a smile, the first time you’d genuinely wanted to in what seemed like forever.

“Just relax, okay? Sometimes it’s okay to just… let yourself be distracted,” his voice trailed off, differing from the confidence you were used to, replaced by something much more vulnerable. “What am I drawing now?”

“I…” you frowned in concentration, trying to piece together the light strokes of his finger just barely gliding over you. “The sea, no! Waves?”

“Woah, that was fast. Didn’t know I was such an amazing artist, but it doesn’t surprise me—” The teasing tone had returned to his voice, no doubt an effort to continue to distract her

“Can you just continue drawing?” You rolled your eyes knowing he couldn’t see, but there was a slight humor to your voice that let him know it was working, that he was distracting you. His fingers continued their roaming, dancing so delicately and so dangerously close to your bare shoulder.

Finnick traced a moon, a star, and even a fish before he switched over to words, indenting each letter in your back with featherlight strokes of his fingers.

At first it was people, places. Your name. His name. District 4. District 1. Then it transitioned to phrases, which proved to be much more difficult. ‘You should sleep’—

“—Hey! I thought this was supposed to just be a distraction,” your words were finished with a heavy yawn that caused a chuckle to vibrate within his chest, and a feeling of warmth spread through you like wildfire. You couldn’t help it, in a moment you had flipped over onto your other side, wanting to see him. You could hear him, small chuckles passing from his lips and the slight rustle of the sheets beneath his body; you could smell him, a comforting, clean scent that instantly relaxed you, but nothing compared to actually being able to see him in all his glory.

You studied the high of his cheekbones, the straight edge of his nose, the golden glow of his skin that matched his bronzy hair dishevled from its place against your headboard. You studied the way his hair curled around his ears, the way you could faintly see the indents in his cheeks from where his dimples would appear if he were to smile, how the white of his two front teeth would poke out from his lips if he flashed you a smirk. They were full and pink, and, with a pang of jealousy that rocked your entire body, you wondered how many Capitol women had been blessed with feeling his lips on theirs — then swallowed that thought down with a shudder of disgust. He hadn’t wanted them, any of them, it was all a facade made up from by the Capitol, and you needed to realize that.

And while hearing him, and smelling him, and even seeing him was great, all you wanted to do was touch him. Not like that; no, you just wanted his arms around you again like they had been on the rooftop, shielding you from the cruelty of the world and finally allowing your body to feel safe enough to sleep. You wanted to reach out and trace the sharpness of his jawline, trail your fingers down to explore the planes of his chest, draw letters and shapes and meaningless patterns over his shirt like he’d just done to you. He watched you through sea green eyes that were glassy with sleep or emotion, which one you couldn’t say. His breaths came out short and shallow, hitting your face as you stared right back. You wondered if he could feel your breath fanning his face, or the warmth radiating from your body as you could from his.

He was close, so, so close, like that night you’d first seen him in the Captiol. You were wanting, just about begging for him to say something, something that would snap you out of whatever trance you were in.

It wasn’t fair that he could be so close, mere inches away on the bed, but be so unreachable.

But, as Snow had so graciously reminded you, fairness was a luxury you were not blessed with. So with great effort you tucked one arm under your pillow, using the other to pull the covers over you. Much to your relief, Finnick made no attempt to leave, saving you the embarassment of asking him to stay.

“Finnick?” You asked after several moments in a hushed whisper, not wanting to wake him. You felt guilty enough to have kept him up until mid morning.

“Mmmm?” Was the response, thick with sleep.

“Thanks for staying with me.” You fell asleep before you could hear his response.

Blood. Red and warm and sticky.

Heat. Blistering your skin and parching your throat.

A knife. Glinting in the sun, slicing straight through skin and muscle and bone.

A scream. Bloodcurdling and drawn out and all too familiar.

A scream escaped your lips, mimicking the one in your dream to an uncanny degree until you realized it was your scream. The sheets were tangled around your limbs, suffocating you and rendering you paralyzed as you fought with them, sweat drenching your forehead and leaving your hairline damp as you struggled for what felt like hours, though it was probably only a moment or two before your disorientation faded and you realized you weren’t back in the arena. Two hands were on your shoulders, strong and grounding, and you realized someone had been calling your name.

“You’re okay. You’re safe, it’s just— it’s just me,” Finnick’s voice was soothing to your ears, a calming melody against the screams and sounds of sliced flesh that were assaulting your mind.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, chest heaving as you sucked in as much air as possible, needing desperately to occupy your mind with something else, anything else. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up—”

“It’s okay,” he cut you off; his hands moved up from your shoulders to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks and you realized you’d been crying. “I get it, you don’t… you don’t have anything to be sorry about.”

His arms wrapped around your body until you had been tucked into his side, your head resting in the crook where his neck met his shoulder, and allowed steadying inhales and exhales to relax you as he resumed tracing patterns on your back. You cried, for everything you’d lost in those games, mourning the person you were before, and he just stayed there, cradling you against him, wanting nothing more than to take your pain on as his own.

“I— I— I just— I can’t—” you hiccuped, fresh tears spilling from your eyes as memories from your Games kept crashing down, how your District partner had protected you and you’d killed him—

“Please, what do you need?” Finnick squeezed his hands a bit tighter around you, trying desperately to bring you back to today. “Just tell me, and I can get it for you— liquor, morphling, anything, just—”

“Finnick,” you croaked out, hating how your voice sounded so weak, so broken. “Can you just…” your eyes flickered down to his lips, and despite every cell in your body screaming at you not to ask: “Kiss me.”

His eyes widened like it was the last thing he expected you to say, “I— okay— are you sure?”

You answered his question by surging forward and capturing his lips with your own, telling yourself it wasn’t his lips that you craved, but that you just needed something to get you through the night. He reciprocated immediately, matching your desperation with his own, like the two of you were trading blows as he pulled you fully under him, settling himself between your legs. You felt the hardness in his pants and couldn’t help but roll your hips up to meet it, pressing your own desire up against his. That — the feeling of his cock straining through the material of his sweatpants — made everything a little too real, and you suddenly found yourself needing to justify your actions. Why you felt this way was a mystery, perhaps you were protecting yourself, scared he wouldn’t feel the same if you were honest, but you truly had no idea, it just slipped out.

“I just… can’t think about it anymore,” you panted out. He didn’t have to know that you’d been pining after him since you were sixteen, didn’t need to know you hid your wanting behind sharp jabs and petty slights. “I don’t want you to think— this doesn’t have to mean anything, okay?”

Maybe you were imagining it, but Finnick’s eyes flickered with something you’d never seen before, clenching his jaw for a moment. “Okay.” He didn’t sound okay. “This means… whatever you want it to mean,” his voice was husky with a mix of something that sounded a little like… well you weren’t really sure, and you soon forgot to ask him as he stole your lips in another kiss.

You swore you would never get used to the feeling of Finnick’s lips on your own, even if you kissed him every day for a thousand lifetimes. Because each time his lips met yours, the world as you knew it was set ablaze with the same fuel that set your whole body on fire. You could never get enough of him, the way his lips were so soft and gentle, the way his breath mingled with and matched your own until it was like you were breathing as one. The way his tongue slid into your mouth but didn’t invade it while his hands roamed your body, squeezing the flesh around your hips, your sides, not being able to keep them contained to one place.

They finally settled on the sides of your thighs, squeezing around the area where your nightgown stopped, fading into a lacy trim and then disappearing completely. With tentative hands, he gripped the bottom of your nightgown and slowly began to hike it up your body. You helped him slide it up your legs, your stomach, your head, until it was completely discarded and you were left in nothing but underwear, having not worn a bra to sleep and leaving your chest completely exposed. Before you even had the chance to cover yourself, he was pressed up against you and his lips were on your neck, nipping at the sensitive spots under your ear and near the base of your throat, soothing the sting of his teeth with the swirl of his tongue.

This continued for a bit without any talking or shifting around, until you decided you weren’t content with being the only one practically naked, and reached for the hem of his shirt. He got the hint pretty quickly, leaning back and sitting on the backs of his thighs before tugging the shirt over his head. His biceps flexed in the process as he revealed a body sculpted and shaped into what you could only describe as perfect, not a single flaw to be seen.

Sitting above you, your legs spread around him and almost completely bare before him, this was the first time he was truly able to take in all of you, his green eyes nearly black with how wide his pupils had been blown out. His cheeks were so flushed they nearly matched the red of his lips, swollen from the constant attack of your own.

“You’re so beautiful,” Finnick whispered, so quietly you thought you imagined it. He didn’t leave much time for the compliment to settle in before he was back on you again.

His lips trailed down your neck, sucking and licking a path of hot, open mouthed kisses down past the valley of your breasts, down your stomach and not leaving an inch of skin untouched. You let out a little whine at the loss of contact when he suddenly pulled away, stopping his kisses just by your hip bone. You opened your eyes to see him searching them for any trace of unwillingness, finding none.

You nodded, desperate to have his mouth on you, and involuntarily shivered as a finger hooked around your panties and rolled them down your legs. You couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed as he was met with how eager you were for him, evident by the growing wetness between your thighs, and instinctively pressed your legs together to shield yourself from his prying gaze, despite being completely bare before him.

“You don’t have to hide, it’s just me,” he said as gently as possible, gripping your thighs and slowly spreading them apart, “Are you really sure about all of this? I don’t want you to think that’s why I stayed.”

God he was so good, you realized with an ache that rocked your body, shooting straight to your heart as you stared at him, met with only sincerity that made you want to cry again, because you could never truly have all of him.

He was doing this as a favor, as a distraction, not because he had any real feelings. But you were so desperate for him you’d take what you could get, which was why you nodded fervently and said, “Please, Finnick, I’m sure, I need you, just… touch me.” And as soon as the last words slipped past your lips, his mouth was on you, and you knew in that moment you were utterly fucked.

Finnick, on the other hand, knew he there was no coming back the moment he came into contact with your clit and tasted you with his tongue. He wanted you, all of you, and chanelled that into the expert motions of his tongue as he dove it deeper in you, continuing at an agonizing pace until you were trembling, practically begging for release. Your fingers raked through his hair, tugging him closer to you, his groans vibrating against your folds whenever you pulled a little hard.

And then, he stopped altogether, and you let out a frustrated groan at the loss of contact, but he was quick to make his way up your body again, peppering kisses along the way before swallowing your whine with another kiss, your mouth opening to let his tongue inside and tasting yourself on him. He broke away for a moment, just in time for you to cry out his name.

“Finn—” you barely had time to whimper again before he suddenly sunk a finger in and kissed you at the same time. His mouth never left yours as he continued, his tongue sliding along the seam of your lips as you parted them with a gasp. And he swallowed that with the kiss, too, like he was hungry for every part of you that he could get.

Desire ignited every part of his body, reflected in the way he began to pump his finger in and out before adding another, wanting you to be ready enough for his cock that he so desperately wanted to sink into you.

But Finnick had waited so long for this moment, he didn’t want to ruin it by moving too fast. No, he needed to relish in every moan elicited from your lips, every clench of you around his fingers. He needed to memorize every dip and valley of your body, kiss every square inch, memorize the taste and feel of you, in case he never got the chance to again.

He broke away his lips from yours and reattached them to your neck as his thumb began to trace a pattern against your clit. His pace quickened as your moans grew louder and more frequent. Your walls squeezed his fingers tighter, until you were practically undone, as he reveled in the sting in his roots and on his back as as you pulled his hair even tighter and your fingernails dug little crescent moons into his otherwise perfect skin.

“I’m gonna—” You were cut off as he sent you over the edge with the slight curl of his finger, pure bliss blinding every other sense until all you could think of was Finnick. It took you a moment to come down from your high, realizing it did little to satiate you because you still wanted him, all of him.

You reached for his bare torso, feeling each of his abs flex individually as you trailed your hands down his stomach. You stopped just above the waistband of his pants, not only wanting to feel him, but wanting to hear him say he wanted it just as badly as you did; but it seemed he was thinking the same thing and beat you to it, shucking off his sweats and boxers until he was also bare before you.

“Tell me you want me,” his chest heaved with each word, demanding you say just what you wanted to hear from him, tearing your attention away from everything else. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Want you so bad,” your voice was barely above a whisper. “Please, I need you inside me. Right now, just… please.” If you could get drunk off of the word please leaving your mouth you’d be wasted by now, almost wanting to laugh with how often you’d said the word.

“Whatever you want,” the way he said that made your spine tingle, the purr in his voice causing you to border on ferality.

This caused you to laugh and hook your arms around his neck, pulling him closer with the intention of kissing the smirk right off his mouth until you felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance, making this feel a little to real once again.

“You sure?” He halted your movements, both hands resting on either side of your head as he remained hovering above you, repeating his question from earlier.

The vigor in your nod caused him to throw his head back with laughter, though not before you asked for confirmation of his own.

Mimicking your move from earlier he answered with a kiss, this one so sweet and quick it was more of a peck. Before he had time to overthink, he was inside you in a swift motion, a moan tearing from your throat as he paused, waiting for you to adjust to the sheer size of him. Your fingernails dug into his arms as he held still, waiting for you to give him the go ahead before he started moving.

“Just— move, please—” that was all it took before his hips snapped against yours and he was inside you fully, biting back a groan to match yours as you clenched around him.

After a while of slow strokes, you were starting to grow inpatient with how gentle he was being. Not because you didn’t like it, but because then you had the chance to slow down and remember it was actually Finnick, and not some nameless man you wouldn’t remember in the morning. He seemed to pick up on your growing disinterest quickly enough, and began quickening his pace until you were crying out. His thrusts soon became wild and erratic, signaling he was just as close to finishing as you were.

“It’s okay,” he crooned, his lips brushing your ear as his hand reached down to circle your clit once again. “Come for me, sweetheart.”

You weren’t sure whether it was his command, or the pet name, way his lips felt against your ear, or even his thumb pressing against your clit, but you came hard and fast, your body spasming and clenching around his cock until he followed soon after. He collapsed on top of you, his chest shining with sweat as he continued to press kisses on you shoulder, up your neck, behind your ear. The weight of Finnick pinning you to the mattress was oddly comforting, grounding you and effectively keeping you from wandering back to thoughts of your Games. The distraction had worked, you realized as he eventually rolled off of you and up into a sitting position.

You wondered tiredly where he was going, but he had left and returned before you could even ask where. A damp towel in one hand, he cleaned you up with gentle movements, slowing when you gasped from sensitivity and pressing a tender kiss to your forehead while whispering sweet words of encouragement in your ear. The whole interaction was so domestic you actually felt nauseous as you remembered this was just a one time thing, and you’d never experience any of this again. This was just a favor done by someone who wasn’t even really your friend — a familiar stranger who knew more about you than most.

Finnick oh so desperately wanted to know what you were thinking. He would ask, but the look in your eyes kept his mouth shut as he fell on the mattress beside you. He itched to pull you close to him, to be able to fall asleep with the security of you in his arms, but couldn’t bring himself to make any first moves. Had he not slept here before you two had just fucked, he’d be questioning whether or not he should remain or go back to his room.

If only he knew you were craving his touch just as much as he was craving yours. So the two of you fell asleep shoulder to shoulder, with so many words left unspoken.

And when you woke up the next morning, you tried not to let your heart sink completely into your chest as you reached over and felt nothing. He was gone.

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair x you #finnick odair smut #the hunger games #thg #finnick imagine #the hunger games smut #the hunger games fanfiction #finnick odair angst #finnick x reader #finnick odair fluff

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zoppa682 · 8 days ago

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For any nonhumans struggling with species dysphoria, I want to help you all as much as I can. I've been experiencing it all week. It can be quite exhausting and put you in a lot of distress, in my case. X(

Here are some tips I'd recommend to help:

1. Mimic the diet of your kintype/theriotype. You are a shark? Eat seafood. A dragon? Maybe try to burn some food a little (or turn it black like my own preference if you want). You kin a character from [Insert source]? Try recreating foods/dishes from their world or dimension.

2. Listen to relatable music. I'd recommend making a playlist of any songs that feel species affirming/euphoric, or even echo that dysphoria further, therefore turning it relatable. (Few of my favorites are Bones by Imagine Dragons, Control by Halsey, Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land by MARINA, Momento Mori by Fish in a Birdcage, among other songs that feel therian coded to me).

3. Do vocals. Howling, barking, screeching, or roaring are very relieving if you are in the correct space to do them! If you are in a quite space or do not want to out yourself to anyone, try purring, growling, hissing, or other unnoticeable sounds. You have an object kintype? Mimic the sounds of the object, like beeping, clicking, etc. (I personally make microwave sounds just because it is fun). Recite voice lines of your kintype from the source they are in. Mimic their voice and volume to match.

4. Move and physically act like your kintype/theriotype. Quadrobics, mimic the flapping of wings, walk bidepedally, whatever you do, turn your mannerisms and motion to reflect your kintype/theriotype.

5. Dress like your kintype/theriotype. Is your kintype a character? Cosplay them, or mimic their clothing style, clothing color, hairstyle, etc. If they have tattoos, scars, or patterns on their body, copy them on your physical form with paint or pens. (PLEASE USE NON TOXIC MATERIALS. STUFF SAFE FOR YOUR HUMAN SKIN.) Are you a species of animal(s)? Dress in your species' colors, or, once again, paint or color yourself like it/them. Are you perhaps any other form of creature or object? You can use the same tips as the others, and another idea that works for all is that you can buy costume pieces of your kintype/theriotype. Masks, headbands, just normal clothing in general, the options really are infinite.

6. Express your dysphoria through artwork. I love doing art when I am heavily species dysphoric. Drawing, crafting masks, origami, painting, collages, all are forms of art. If you are skilled in music, then you could even create some songs of your own!

7. Go out and explore nature. This one is mainly targeted towards therians, whose types are grounded on the life on earth rather than other dimensions or universes, but just like the other methods, it can be universally used by any types of nonhumans. Collecting things is my favorite way of exploring nature. Collect rocks, shells, sticks, leaves, bugs, plants, anything that makes you feel more comfortable in your own (unfortunate) physical body. Stay grounded in the world around you and you may find the dysphoria slips away. Hiking and going on short walks can also help, building a den, smelling the scents of the outdoors. All great ideas that I personally recommend.

8. Write about your feelings. Whether you are good at expressing yourself through poetry, you keep a diary/journal, or you can project onto OCs for new backstory lore like I do, writing can truly help with any dysphoria. Not only that, but it is sometimes refreshing to come back later and read about what you were feeling before. It can serve as a great reminder that you are a powerful being and you will always overcome the feelings if you try.

9. Research about your kintype/theriotype. It does not matter if you are an animal, concept, or object from earth, a being from fantasy, or a character from the greatest book or show, you learn something new every day. So why not learn about yourself? Read books or watch animal documentaries of your theriotype(s), same thing for you otherkins and your fantasy species. Fictionkins can look up facts about themself as a character, their book, show, game, etc.

10. Talk and interact with other alterhumans/nonhumans. Remember, we are a community, and while you are experiencing horrible episodes of species dysphoria, there are many other beings going through the exact same thing at the exact same time. So why not talk to them about it? Share your experiences, help eachother cope, you may even connect with more individuals that way, building more relationships with others and meeting new beings.

11. Past life meditation. If you are a nonhuman who has a past life/lives, you may find comfort in meditation, where you can truly tap into what you once were, and still are in this life as well. Look to the forgotten, and turn in to remembered. Open up your past and live over again.

12. Listen to sounds. Nature sounds, voices of other characters you know from your world, vocals or sound effects of your kintype. These are all good options to turn to if you want to feel at ease with yourself.

13. Let your emotions out. Sometimes this is all you really need to do when species dysphoria hits hard. Cry, bite things, claw at pillows, LET IT OUT. There is absolutely no problem in being yourself and expressing your heavy emotions in your own, unique, nonhuman way. You may find you feel much better after.

That's all I've got, but I hope whoever/whatever reads this far has an amazing day/night. You are an amazing being, thank you for embracing yourself and living authentically. <3

#therian #therian community #therianthropy #alterhumanity #alterhuman #alterhuman community #fictionkin #objectkin #conceptkin #nonhuman #species dysphoria #otherkin #otherkin community #otherkinity

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thepurpleglass · 5 months ago

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G1 My Little Pony Yum Yum as a doll is in progress! She’s got a body that matches her head, and I washed the gel out of Zip’s hair to see if this rooting pattern would work with the approximate hairstyle I had in mind. The outfit is just the one Shadow High Natasha came with, with a pink scrunchie from Target added on the bottom. Her head is a g5 Style of the Day MLP! These have a much improved head and body sculpt from the first run of g5s.

I want to give her Yum Yum’s classic bubblegum pink hair I think, and I have plans to make her a different outfit. I think Yum Yum loves anything with a Peter Pan collar and 1950’s/vaguely Sweet Lolita influences, with a touch of lovecore, since fashion inspired by children’s Valentine’s Day decorations matches her color scheme so well. Besides the poofy sleeved dresses with circle skirts, someday I visualize her in a pair of maroon corduroy overalls or an oversized heart sweater. As a stand in for cutie marks, I’m considering drawing elaborate, stylized back tattoos. G1 Mimic and Munchy are on my list for similar treatment at some point.

Since my ghost mug, Mr. Spookington, steals any photo he’s in, you should know you can get your own from @skeletaldropkick .

#my little pony #shadow high #rainbow high #dollblr #doll hybrid #hybrid doll #my little pony g5 #MLP

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airbendertendou · 1 year ago

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May I please get a scenario or hc (whatever is easier for you!) of Rindo’s s/o dying their hair to match his hair color? Like they do it while he’s at work and he has no idea until he comes home. Thank you! I hope you have a good day/night!

synopsis : reader changes their hair to match their boyfie <3 characters included : mikey, ran, draken, koko & bonten!rindou

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

— MANJIRO! ♥︎ you copy his classic, half-up hairstyle ♥︎ doesn't even notice you've changed your hair ♥︎ draken says something snarky abt it like "oh, you're matching, cute." ♥︎ nd mikey goes ??? w his cheeks puffed out from a taiyaki ♥︎ but when he turns to see you ♥︎ it's like the sun shines down onto you carefully ; like angels are singing ; like he's falling in love all over again ♥︎ his head flops onto your shoulder, arms shakily bringing you closer to his hold ♥︎ mumbles something about turning you into a sano /:

— DRAKEN! ♥︎ you go for jus a simple braid, a little piece of hair tugged out ♥︎ he snorts when he sees you, rolling his eyes nd everything ♥︎ but his ears are so so red ♥︎ and hes thought abt how to tell you how pretty you look ; how you need a dragon tattoo now, too ♥︎ shoves you under his arm when you tease him abt his blush, digging his chin into the top of your head annoyingly ♥︎ tugs on that little strand a lot!! jus to get your attention, he swears ♥︎ but has this sort of pride in his eyes when you show your hair off at the toman meeting

— RAN! ♥︎ your hair is styled into two braided pigtails ♥︎ oh hes so smug ♥︎ but also keeps an eye narrowed and focused on anyone mking inappropriate comments ♥︎ we live in a society where pigtails are sexualized ♥︎ twirls your braids the way he twirls his!! ♥︎ will also purposely mess his hair up so you have to fix it for him ): ♥︎ grins at any and all matching hair accessories he see ♥︎ talk him out of getting the giant, obvious bows please

— KOKONOI! ♥︎ can b his bonten hair or his current one! ♥︎ either way, you twist or braid a few pieces of hair to mimic his style ♥︎ hates it at first ♥︎ bc how dare you make his signature style look better than he does ):< ♥︎ ends up liking it bc now he has easy access to kiss your ear nd neck ♥︎ he goes through all the other styles you'd look nice in ; all the colors you could pull off ♥︎ something about your hair matching his... ♥︎ makes you feel more official, somehow

— RINDOU! ♥︎ bonten era ; you get the jellyfish cut! or maybe copy his colors- ♥︎ he knew abt your hair appointment but didnt think it was anything out of the ordinary ♥︎ little did he know.... ♥︎ he just stares ♥︎ like wide-eyed, heartstopping, can barely breathe stares ♥︎ stands to his full height and cups your chin, turning your head gently to get a full view ♥︎ grins w pink cheeks ): kisses the tip of your nose and just continues to stare ♥︎ "all mine......" its whispered before he takes your breath in a kiss ♥︎ He's Obsessed.

——♥︎—— im so sorry for the lack of content lately ); hope this was okay / the format was alright. if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyo revengers content, let me know! ♥︎

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @thatpoindexterpixy @night-shadowblood-writes2 @muichirouswifeandhusband @chrofeisnightmaregf

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

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xo2dee · 10 months ago

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ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄʀʏ ᴍ��ꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ʟᴇᴛ'ꜱ ᴍᴏᴄᴋ, ʙᴀʙʏ

♱ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Vergil x Reader

♱ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None

♱ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1971

♱ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: In which you learn that Dante can mimic his twin that it's almost scary, so naturally you want to know if Vergil is able to as well.

♱ ᴀ/ɴ: sometimes i giggle thinking about how vergil does the same exact dorky shit dante does, thus this was born

♱ twitter - ao3

“And why not?”

“I said no.”

“We’re alone, just once.”

“No.”

“I don't like you.”

“…”

You didn’t expect to get a response after that one, especially when he practically turned his back to you on the bed and dug his nose deeper in the book. You let go of his arm and fell back into the many pillows with a loud sigh, hoping he got the memo it made you upset – you weren’t really upset, you just liked teasing him. When he didn’t spare as much as a glance to you, you turned your gaze to the ceiling and pouted.

What were you annoying your surly lover about currently? Well…

It had all started earlier in the day, Dante and Vergil were getting along remarkably well until one made a remark about the other’s hair, out of absolute nowhere. Dante had told his elder twin that he looked like ‘Beethoven with that receding ass hairline’ and Vergil being his calm self had gotten pissy about that remark – you knew if it was one thing he hated, it was insults about his hair – and spouted off into some words you didn’t even know existed insulting at his younger twin. Vergil was a tranquil fury, often using words before he full-on threatened people with just so much as unsheathing the Yamato, and somehow it had almost gotten to them duking it out in a sword fight in the lobby again if you hadn’t walked in.

After sitting on the couch with your half-demon in attempts to diffuse the situation, they started again, though that time was something you had never expected. Dante had been flicking his hair and fiddling with it and muttering about how he needed a haircut when he pushed it back on his head. The slicked back style was nearly identical to Vergil’s and it fascinated you how they could look so different with opposite hairstyles, yet the exact same when wearing the exact same style. You had been glancing back to and from them both a little too obviously and had caught Dante’s attention, and he grinned.

Oh God.

He stood up from behind his desk then, and you noticed Vergil cut a glance to him quickly before going back to reading, leisurely walking over to stand near you two as he cleared his throat and pushed his hair back to sit more securely on his head. Then, he spoke and…

“Foolishness, Dante, foolishness. Is being a prick all you can do?”

Your jaw had unlocked a choked laugh leaving you before trying to cover it up with a cough, not just because Dante was purposely trying to rile up his twin again, but the frightening way Dante had mimicked him. It was uncanny, down to the nasal tone of his voice and the colorful insults he always came up with. How was that even possible? Was it because they were twins? No, they didn’t have the same voice at all. Maybe it was the demon blood in them, granting them abilities that might’ve been useless in retrospect but made for great talents. Either way, you were floored, and a little creeped out that Dante managed to sound exactly like him.

If Dante can do it, then…

Vergil’s book snapped shut. You were bracing yourself.

He rose then, probably more angry than he looked, and his hand was already making forth for the Yamato, “You dare mock me?”

At times you wondered how they were even brothers, but the way they fought over the pettiest shit really sold it. Especially when Dante’s response was parroting him back in the exact voice, “You dare mock me?”

“Oh my God.”

You had stopped it then, knowing Vergil was point five away from shish-kabobbing Dante with his sword, dragging your lover away to your shared bedroom as Dante cackled – disturbingly in Vergil’s voice – to keep them from blasting a hole in the walls again or throwing the other one through the ceiling again. After all that and Vergil seemingly calm – ??? – Dante left declaring he was getting pizza and that left you two alone in the shop, and that’s when you started.

You wanted to hear it, you wanted to hear Vergil speak like Dante. It didn’t have to be the same exact tone – that’d probably traumatize you – you just wanted to hear him say one of the catchphrases Dante did; it’d be funnier in his voice anyway. You had heard on more than one occasion Vergil say ‘Jackpot’, no matter how many times he grouched about how he didn’t say it. Yeah, okay bub, he could tell himself that but you distinctly remember hearing him saying it once and when he turned to see you standing there, he had puffed up like a rooster and stalked off. He was so cute when he was embarrassed.

You followed him around for a while after, literally waddling behind on his heels and holding onto one of his belt loops whenever he’d try to escape you. He knew you wanted something, and it was something he didn’t want so he was ignoring you, not because he was being an asshole to you, but because his sixth sense was tingling whenever he knew you or Dante were plotting. You tried to ease him into it but the man was about as stiff as a board and only threw you disgusted glances and ‘No’s.

That left you both currently in your bed as nighttime rolled in. Dante hadn’t returned and you knew he’d maybe only do it for you if he couldn’t hear him, so you would take intervals in asking him to do it, your latest blowing as well. If you had guessed, Vergil probably thought himself above using Dante vocabulary, and he was probably miffed that you had laughed too.

You looked at the back of his head; normally he let his hair down for bed, though it was still in its usual get-up and you were probably the reason for that. He certainly knew how to hold grudges. You sighed and rolled over to face his back, “Look I said I was sorry for laughing, it just caught me off guard. I didn’t know he could do that, and I just wanted to know if you could too.”

Vergil’s back moved in a deep breath with a sigh, shutting his book as he rolled onto his back, “Why do you want to know so badly?”

Truthfully, you wanted to hear Vergil say ‘Hey, babe’, but you weren’t about to vouch that to him. “It’s interesting,” was your response.

His silvery eyes peered over at you then, “’Interesting’?”

You propped yourself up on your elbow, “I’m being serious, I’ve never seen twins do that, or anyone for that matter. It’s kind of weird if you think about it… Dante could pretend to be you.” His expression was nothing but offended, so you reiterated, “You know what I mean, and I know if Dante of all people can do it, than you can too.” Maybe if you stroked his ego a little bit, he’d give in.

It didn’t work. “I know what you’re doing.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Vergil’s side eyes were godly, you don’t think anyone could replicate them, and you gave a sheepish grin at his glare. He sighed then, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You are insufferable.”

“Is that a no?”

You didn’t get an answer, only him closing his eyes to signify he was done with the conversation. You were not giving in though; you would hear him speak like Dante even if you had to beat it out of him – figuratively of course, you didn’t want to start a play fight and somehow get a long ass lesson of combat again. You had to change tactics, perhaps reverse psychology…

You gave a dramatic sigh, watching as he peeked a little when you flopped onto your back as well, and wistfully stared at the ceiling, “Maybe I was wrong then, maybe the great, big, bad Vergil lacks in one thing that Dante can better him in. A shame really.”

He was sitting up then and you almost laughed. His hair was beginning to fall from its grace as he glared down at you, “I do not lack in anything.”

You hummed, “Oh? You have to prove it, babe. If you don’t, I’ll just have to assume Dante’s up one point and better than you at something.” Hitting his ego seemed to always favor out than stroking it you figured out.

Vergil: 6

You: 4

His face twisted into a grimace and you didn’t have time to think about how he was probably insulted that you thought Dante was better than him. What a doof of a man, he was too easy to rile up sometimes. His jaw clenched and teeth pushing together he hissed at you, “What do you want.”

You sat up quicker than he probably expected and sat crisscross applesauce in front of him, “Just say something he says, you don’t have to do the voice, though you get Brownie Points if you do mimic his voice.” ‘Brownie Points’ being… you didn’t want to elaborate on that, Vergil was already feral.

The half-demon’s eyebrow rose considering your offer and he stared at you for a few moments before the loudest sigh you had ever heard fell out of him. He almost seemed melancholy as he rose his arms and used his hands to push his hair into his face, brushing it away from his face some to resemble his kin (though looking at him reminded you of the time you saw a picture of Nero with longer hair and you almost fell out of your seat on how much father and son looked alike).

You were nearly bouncing on the bed as he cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice into Dante’s and when he started looking like he was about to throw up it took all willpower you had not to laugh. He was silent for a few moments and then he opened and closed his mouth a couple times. The tension and suspense was killing you and you had half a mind to tell him to hurry up, though when he opened his mouth, nothing prepared you for what came out.

“Hey, babe, the name’s Dante and I’m here to party hard. Let’s rock, baby.”

“…”

…

Ew.

“That was… gross... and disturbing.”

He glared, the immediate Vergil back at your words, “You got what you wanted now leave me be,” he pushed his hair back on top his head and laid back on the bed facing away. He was embarrassed, how adorable.

You laid back down as well, trying to desperately just process what had happened. He had done it spot on just like his brother albeit his face was… horribly deadpan and in that expression he normally wore. But those words coming out of his mouth… and if he had said it in his own voice…

The first noise that escaped you was just air blowing through your nostrils. After that…

Vergil sighed when your own body began to shake the bed as you laughed, turning to look at you from over his shoulder, “Stop.”

“You... you said, ‘Let’s rock, baby’. I can’t breathe, who says that?”

“Dante.”

“Oh my God, please don’t ever do that again, it was so scary.”

“With pleasure, and I expect my reward in the near future.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get your hanky panky.”

Once you had calmed down enough and he turned the light off for bed, you snuggled up with your arms around his bicep, a contented smile on your face, “Night, handsome.”

It was silent for a few moments and you thought he’d fallen back asleep until –

“Goodnight, babe.”

“STOP.”

#{🩸} nee fics #vergil x reader #vergil x y/n #vergil x you #vergil dmc #vergil devil may cry #vergil #devil may cry #dmc

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toomuchracket · 1 year ago

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keep dreaming (d word matty smut)

(pre-relationship. mentions of unprotected sex. basically, matty's in his bed and he simply cannot stop thinking about you...)

in an ideal world, matty wouldn't be doing this.

in an ideal world, he would have staved off the nerves, gotten a grip, bit the bullet, and asked you to come home with him. part of him thinks he should've - it's not as if he hasn't done it before, with girls nowhere near as beautiful and girls he didn't like half as much as you.

but that's the point, he thinks, that's why he didn't. you're too special to him for your first intimate moment to be a post-awards show shag at his house. granted, he'd fucking worship you if it was, both in bed and then out of it, for every subsequent minute of his life... but he'd far rather take you on a few dates and spoil you first, before getting you into bed.

you... bed... fuck. despite himself, matty can't stop thinking about it.

or stop from gently stroking himself to said thoughts, caving further into that little voice in his head saying "imagine what it would feel like if it was her hand instead of yours" on loop.

god, he's sick for this. but he can't help it. after all, matty knows all too well what your right hand - the hand you use to write memos to him at work, and therefore the one you would surely use on him in bed - feels like, wrapped around a part of his body. less than an hour ago, it had grasped his wrist as you tugged him to the dancefloor at the afterparty, beaming warmly enough to melt his heart and redden his cheeks.

and then it had slid down his hand and twisted to grip the tips of his fingers, and matty was a goner. he mimics the motion now on his cock with a breathy whimper of your name, and repeats it - this time, slightly more softly, slightly more like you would. shit. you would look so good wanking him off, matty thinks, the edges of your nails ever so lightly scraping against him as you move; those nails that kickstarted this specific fantasy of you giving him a handjob, after you excitedly showed him their design when you first saw him earlier, a design based on the band's newest album, described by you as "look, matty, you're all over my hands". he had smiled at the adorable gesture and kissed your palm in gratitude, but his thoughts had gone somewhere far dirtier - literally - at your words.

he's jumping the gun with thinking about his cum all over your pretty nails now, though, so matty goes back to imagining your handjob position - he thinks of you lying on your stomach in front of him, looking up that way you do when he tells you something interesting: those beautiful eyes of yours all sparkly and focused and knee weakening-ly distracting, pretty lips curved and cheeks lifted into a bashful little smile.

those lips... always so soft-looking (and feeling, matty's sure, given he's a frequent witness to your habit of religiously applying lipbalm) and definitely kissable, but even more so tonight, lined and glossy. the colour looked shockingly perfect on you, and when he first saw you earlier he'd had to shove down a memory of a makeup artist for a shoot telling him that the perfect lipstick colour is the same as one's nipples before he started spiralling. now, though, in the solitary comfort of his own bed, matty lets his brain wind itself into imagining yours, spots of that lipstick shade on your perfect tits - accentuated incredibly tonight by the black silk of your cocktail dress, it has to be said - and imagining the way they would brush against him as you moved forward to wrap your lips around him, the same way you wrapped them around one of the bottles of expensive champagne given to the band's table after they won.

fuck. matty's wrist speeds up almost involuntarily at the thought of you sucking him off, while his other hand threads itself into the bedsheets the same way he knows he'd thread it into your hair, sliding the soft waves of tonight's hairstyle away from your beautiful face. he knows you would smile around him at that, the same little sweet smile you give matty whenever he appears with a coffee for you or offers you a cig or does anything requiring a bit of thankfulness, followed by a little "thank you" and a hum of contentment when you get what you wanted or needed. it makes him swoon at the best of times - it would surely ruin him if you did it with his cock in your mouth.

matty speeds up his movement again, imagining you humming and moaning happily as you slide your mouth up and down his length, whimpering when the tip hits the back of your throat. ignoring the inkling of guilt that appears in the back of his mind as he does, matty wonders just how deep you'd be able to take him. not that he'd ever force you to do anything you couldn't or didn't want to, and not that it would matter, because he knows if you actually were to suck him off he'd have to fight not to cum immediately, but he has a sneaking suspicion that you'd try to completely deepthroat him - he knows how stubborn you are, and he's sure he's not hallucinating the way you blush whenever he thanks you for going above and beyond to help him out.

and it's not like he'd dissuade you from trying; at the thought of you, teary-eyed but turned-on, inching slowly down his length to take it all, throat closing slightly around him, lips and nose pressed against his lower stomach, moaning, he bucks his hips up again almost involuntarily with a whine, beginning to properly fuck his fist the way he would fuck your mouth if you wanted him to. would you swallow, matty wonders, take every last drop of his cum down your aching throat and clean off the tip with little kitten licks? would he let you?

or would he stop fucking your mouth as he feels the orgasm start to build, so he can fuck you until you both cum instead?

god. what a thought that is, matty gently coaxing your head up from his cock and kissing you, before rolling you onto your back and just burying himself inside you. he fucks his fist the way he would you, mixing slow, controlled thrusts in amongst shorter, sharper ones to rile you up, before setting a strong rhythm with his hips that - hopefully - would have you screaming for him. he groans your name at the thought of that, wanking desperately now - not necessarily desperate to make himself cum, but desperate to see your eyes roll back in time with his hips, your jaw drop in pleasure, those fucking tits of yours bounce with every thrust; to feel your lips on his as you kiss him like you're trying to devour him, your hot breath in his open mouth as you moan his name into it, your long, gorgeous nails digging crescents into his back, your legs quivering around his waist as you reach breaking point, and - the thing matty's most desperate for - your cunt clenching around his cock, as he circles your clit and pulls an orgasm out from within your very bones.

matty's so fucking close now, hips jerking wildly into his hand, eyes heavy and clouded with pleasure, a cacophony of moans and groans and cries of your name leaving his lips and turning to incoherent dirty talk as they meet the cold air of the bedroom. "ohhhhh, fuck, m'gonna fucking cum, baby, shit, need to fuck you, mmmmmmmph, gonna cum, gonna fucking cum."

there is, however, one final thing for matty to consider about his fantasies of you before he reaches his orgasm - where would he cum, if he was with you right now? he could pull out, and let you either finish him off in your hand or mouth, coating your throat or covering your pretty nails like he briefly imagined earlier. or he could finish himself over you, decorate your beautiful face, your gorgeous tits, your soft stomach and your thighs.

truthfully, he'd let you choose - he'd just be grateful for the opportunity to even get to do anything with you in bed, and you'd look perfect in any of these scenarios (and in any scenario in general, really). but if matty got to pick, and you were okay with it, he wouldn't choose any of them.

what matty would do is stay buried inside you and fill you up with his cum, thrusting through his orgasm with his head buried in your neck, feeling you milk his cock for everything he has.

it's a delicious thought, and it's what tips him over the edge; with a final groan of your name and a "fuck!", matty cums all over his own hand, whimpering and lightly stroking himself until he stops pulsing out white fluid, which flows over his hand to pool on his lower stomach, reaching the very edge of his hip tattoo. in the aftershocks of orgasm, he can't help but imagine you cleaning it off with your tongue; with his free hand, matty reaches over to grab a pillow he can groan into to calm down before he finds himself cumming to the thought of you yet again. christ. he really is into you, isn't he?

matty doesn't move for a few minutes - the orgasm was so strong and took so much out of him that he just lies on his bed silently, until his breathing regulates and he comes back down to earth a bit. when the liquid on his stomach starts to feel icky, that's when he finally moves, swinging his legs onto the floor and walking to the bathroom to shower. he cleans his body just fine, but the grossness in his brain lingers a minute longer - he really just got off to imagining fucking you, his trusted friend and colleague, like some sort of depraved teenager. jesus christ.

if only he knew you'd just grinded yourself to an orgasm on your pillow thinking of the exact same thing.

#mads muses #mads does writing #d word matty #smutty asks #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

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holy-reference-in-a-username · 3 months ago

Note

How do you draw Edd's hair? I'm having so much trouble drawing it..

EDD'S HAIR IS THE HARDEST OF ALL OF THEM HANDS DOWN. I FEEL YOU.

is this because i actually try to mimic his canon hair instead of giving him an entirely new hairstyle? possibly. but that doesn't change the fact that edd's hair is tough to draw.

well. most of it is fine. the cowlick? sure. the bangs? easy. the ONE THING that you HAVE to get right???

THIS PIECE RIGHT HERE!!!!

that big swoop of hair is the ANCHOR for drawing edd's hair. and that's what I start with. ...after the head and face, that is.

but my main piece of advice is, unfortunately yes, REPETITION!!

JUST DRAW HIM A GAZILLION TIMES!!

i'll admit i probably have a bit of an advantage having drawn edd off and on for over a decade, but sketching The Guys in a bunch of random positions and angles and such, just filling sketchbooks upon sketchbooks, that's the best way to improve. well at drawing in general but also the characters youre currently hyperfixating on.

and of course you can always put your own spin on it. i mean, look at my tom's hair in comparison to canon. or matt (mine is a lot fluffier). or tord (MULLET!!!). do what you want forever <3

#if you see a couple edds here that havent been posted just yet... well let me just say i have Several comics in the works.#YIPPEE #this was fun. i dont do a lot of tutorials.#looking back at all of my past edds (dammit) was fun. ive changed a lot in how i draw him just over this past month #my art #sketch #ask #tutorial #ew edd #i say shit #do what you want forever

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yuna542 · 2 years ago

Text

Connected (OT8 x reader)

Part 10<-

Part 11

Pairing: Jeongin x reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: 18+, Smut, under 18 DNI!Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, unprotected sex (just don‘t!), bloody nose

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Sooo. What do you think of this part? Maybe you noticed where I got my inspiration from (M/V. Making off?) Love our baby bread who is not so baby anymore… For real have you seen the 5-Star Trailer? Uffhhgg watched it like 10000000 times

On your first day of your new job as the personal manager of Stray Kids, you didn't expect to be standing in front of the man you made out with last night in a club. But it soon becomes clear that the Stray Kids don't just want you as their manager.

Will this passionate arrangement end your career?

When you took the note off your door in the morning, you wanted to break down and cry on the spot.

But you didn't have time for that. So you stuffed the paper into your pocket and headed off to work.

Only when you got to your office you dared to take the paper out again, and you had to read it at least three times before you understood the words on the yellow background. Your hands shook and despair gripped you as soon as the word 'eviction notice' even came into the corner of your eye.

Although you tried hard to remain calm, you could feel the frantic typing as you entered the number in your phone that was at the bottom of the letter.

After endless beeping, the administration of the building complex you were currently living in finally answered. You had gotten the apartment out of luck via relationships and it was a miracle that it was affordable despite the ideal location for you.

And now you were supposed to move out within a week because the building was going to be demolished.

After several questions, the annoyed administrative worker could only confirm to you what was already on the note anyway. You had to leave your apartment by the end of the week.

With the current rent prices it was impossible to find a halfway affordable apartment within a week and the panic of being homeless until the end of the week spread more and more inside you.

But when there was a knock on your door, you furtively wiped the tears from the corners of your eyes and put on a carefree smile as soon as Chan poked his head into the room:

"Morning, babe. We're about to take off."

You had completely forgotten about that with all the stress. Quickly, you nodded:

"I'll be right there!"

Today was the teaser shoot for the music video.

You had no choice but to put on your professional mask and start working.

As you got into the car with Chan, where the guys were already waiting, you were showered with energetic vibes. They were all looking forward to the first shoot and the energy soon transferred to you as well.

Even though you couldn't completely banish the dark thoughts from your mind, you had to focus on your work when you arrived.

The film crew was getting everything ready while the guys were sent to makeup to change and get ready.

The video would be set in a sports hall and the guys would be playing basketball. There would be some sporty and handsome shots that would surely please the fans.

Han was the first to notice that something was wrong with you.

"You look tired... Are you okay?", he asked as everyone just waited for Chan and Hyunjin's hairstyles to be done.

"Yes all good, Ji. Don't worry about it", you said quickly. Too quickly and that's when the Director began to speak.

He gave the guys instructions on how they would first shoot individually or as couples and then mimic a little basketball game as a team.

You retreated to the bleachers with the film crew and when you had a few free minutes, you looked for possible apartments, but that brought you much closer to a breakdown. You couldn't afford any of them and most of them were way too far away. You would need several hours to get to work and that would not be possible with the strict schedules.

When out of nowhere you felt a hand on your leg, you flinched violently and almost threw your phone off the stand. Jeongin looked at you with wide eyes and raised his hands placatingly.

"Take it easy! It's just me."

Behind him, Felix followed, and they both looked like they could see right into your head.

"Are you guys finished yet?", you asked, trying a half-cheerful smile.

They took you in the middle and Felix didn't hesitate to pull you into his arm.

"We just have to do the group shots. Hyunjin and Changbin are on it right now."

You put your temple against his with a sigh and breathed in his sunny scent.

They all looked really really good with the school uniforms. So the video should have a nostalgic vibe and even you felt transported back to your school days when you saw the typical uniforms. But in the past, the guys at your school had never been as attractive as the ones who were now chasing the ball in the hall.

"Do you want to talk?", he asked, and he stroked your arm reassuringly.

With a quick glance at Jeongin, who gave you a sweet smile, you sighed. So Jeongin had pulled out the secret weapon to elicit the reason for your worries.

You couldn't lie to Felix. He was too kind and bright. It was impossible to hide your feelings from him.

"The building complex I live in is going to be torn down. I have until the end of the week to get out of my apartment“, you explained quietly.

But no one heard you anyway. The song played on and off while the cameramen were busy getting good shots of Hyunjin and Changbin with the basketball.

"This sucks", I.N commented and you had to laugh bitterly.

"I’m sure we‘ll find a solution“, Felix tried to cheer you up, but you could just shake your head.

"I can't afford most of the apartments and it's impossible to find something in that short time."

The guys gave each other meaningful looks, but before Felix could answer, he was called by the director. It was time for the whole group to take group shots.

It was too funny to watch the boys trying to recreate a real game. Han was so afraid of the ball that he kept running around the others, Changbin and Chan tried to shoot at the baskets, while Lee Know and Hyunjin chased each other around the court, screaming at each other.

It took forever for them to get a few scenes halfway done, but they had so much fun doing it that they infected everyone on the staff with their good humor.

You raised your eyes as Hyunjin came up to you with his camera between scenes filming the making off.

"How do you like our godlike basketball skills?", he asked, and Han latched onto his shoulder.

You raised a thumb at the camera and said:

"You guys definitely play like professionals!"

"Why don't I believe you?", laughed Hyunjin, zooming in on Han, who posed with his legs wide for the camera:

"I'm the best player, though."

"Yeah because the rest of us are extremely bad!", Hyunjin shot back and then all you saw behind him was the basketball flying and slamming hard against Jeongin's face.

Hyunjin screamed out, who happened to have the camera right on it, and Chan was already running to the youngest, who was holding his face with both hands and wincing with pain.

Before you got past the stands, the director and the cameramen were already with him and handed him a cloth, which he pressed firmly against his nose.

But it was already too late. Blood ran down his mouth and chin and dripped onto his blue jacket.

"Who threw the ball?", asked Chan sharply, looking at stunned faces. Hyunjin had lowered the camera and Changbin slowly approached.

"That was me", Lee Know came forward, sounding concerned.

He pushed past the Director who was talking at Jeongin, but gradually the white cloth ran out.

"Sorry, Innie... Shit, I didn't mean to throw so hard."

Jeongin squinted his eyes and waved it off with one hand.

"It's okay... Never mind."

You took out more wipes from your bag and handed them to him so he could press them further against his nose.

"Stuff it up your nose until it stops!", said Chan, looking like a father tending to his small child who had fallen off the swing.

Gently, you grabbed him by the arm and said through the commotion around you:

"Come on, Innie! I'll help you clean this up."

Chan nodded curtly at you and when you saw the stressed expression on his face, you wanted to take all the heavy weight off his shoulders, that he carried around all the time.

You sat down together on one of the higher benches of the stands so that the others could continue working undisturbed. You sat down opposite him, both one leg to the left and one leg to the right of the bench.

He still had his head back and tissues stuck up his nose.

"Does it hurt a lot?", you asked cautiously, glancing down the stairs where one member of the team was already joining you.

He shook his head and his voice sounded nasal, due to the blockage in his nose:

"No. It's not that bad."

He was always like that. Just not a burden to anyone and always functioning at full speed.

The director's assistant had reached you by now and handed Jeongin more cloths and a cold pack.

"Should we call a doctor to take a look at the nosebleed?"

You were about to answer in the affirmative, but Jeongin beat you to it.

"No! There's no need for that. It's already stopped bleeding."

Pressing your lips together, you looked at him questioning, but he continued to refuse.

"Maybe the nose is broken", the assistant said, to which Jeongin again shook his head vehemently.

"Y/N can palpate me, but there's nothing broken. I can keep going!"

While the assistant tried to continue talking at him, you moved closer to Jeongin.

"May I?", you asked, and he nodded.

Then you gently ran your fingers over the bridge of his nose. As you did so, his face hovered so close to yours that you inevitably saw his gaze move to your lips and how he suddenly tensed up.

Blood still stained his chin and mouth and a few drops had also landed on his jacket.

Only because of the assistant who was present were you able to tear yourself away from his engaging eyes. Like a fox, he regarded you attentively and with so much intelligence in his expression that you trembled.

"The nose isn't broken. It all feels normal", you said quickly, pulling away before the assistant noticed that crackling energy between you.

By then, there was a call for him as well, and he finally gave up.

"I'll take care of Jeongin!", you assured him, and with that he finally gave in and disappeared.

"Thank you! Really", Jeongin said, clearly relaxing. He grabbed one of your hands and unobtrusively pulled you closer again by it.

"Let me clean your face!", you said, smiling softly and taking out a couple of makeup wipes from your bag that you always carried in case you needed it. He nodded and you began to wipe the blood from his skin with concentration and careful hand movements.

While doing so, you couldn't help but inhale his cologne. He smelled like a heady mix of fresh florals, woody lime and the first rain on a sunny day.

His charisma was more than attractive and when he was that close to you, you became restless. There was something unpredictable about him, behind the politeness, the funny weirdo and the loving nature.

It was the self-confidence that lay dormant in him that regularly blew your mind. Even though he was just a few months older than you.

Bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder, you tried not to hurt him.

"Y/N?", you heard his soft voice ask, and you felt his heartbeat quicken under your hand.

"Huh?", you hummed busy and that's when you heard Hyunjin standing next to you again, holding the camera on you.

"Since Lee Know tried to kill our Maknae. How are you I.N?"

You looked at the camera and threw away the bloody cloths.

Jeongin raised a thumb to the camera and said:

"It's all good. It's really not as bad as it looks. And Minho's throw was also too bad to really do any damage."

"Should I try it again? Maybe next time you faint", shouted Minho then, and you smirked as you felt Jeongin's knee pressed against yours.

Hyunjin laughed and Minho looked fierce but you both could see the concern in their eyes despite everything. They were family, after all and cared for each other no matter what.

Then Hyunjin was distracted by Felix who was trying to shoot baskets with Chan and went to join them. Jeongin took the scraps of cloth out of his nose and threw it all in the trash by the stairs.

"You should cool that so it doesn't swell any more", you said, already activating the cold pack by bending it.

"Does it look that bad?", he now asked again without the nasal tone.

You shook your head quickly. Once the blood was gone, the minimal swelling on the bridge of his nose didn't seem so bad either.

"No. But we don't know what it will look like tomorrow."

He nodded and closed his eyes as you held the cold pack to the bridge of his nose. A soft hiss escaped him as the cold eased the throbbing in his head, enjoying your gentle touch.

For a while, you just sat there together, enjoying each other's presence. Jeongin could have endured for hours the way your fingers stroked his face and dabbed his nose with the cold pack.

"Does it feel good?", you asked after a while, and that's when he opened his eyes again.

"You have no idea", he murmured, relaxed, and when your eyes met, you noticed the closeness between you.

His thighs were pressed tightly against yours from the outside and you could feel his breathing on your cheek as your face was only a hand's width away from his.

An embarrassed smile flitted across your lips and immediately his eyes were fixed on it. He could just look at you and your knees went weak.

You put your other hand to his cheek to hold his face tightly because you just wanted to touch him while you continued to cool his nose. Slowly he lifted his gaze and your eyes locked together. You got all excited as he licked his lower lip and all the sounds of the shoot faded into the background.

Before you could stop him, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on your mouth. It only lasted a few seconds, yet your heart jumped out of your chest and you stared wide-eyed at him before looking around to see if anyone had watched you.

He too seemed surprised himself and couldn't quite believe he had actually done that without thinking. Looking down at the crew, you breathed a little sigh of relief when you saw that everyone was busy taking videos of Changbin.

Chan and Felix were listening intently to the director and Seungmin's hair was being fixed.

Only Hyunjin looked in your direction and slowly lowered the camera.

He tried not to let notice, but gave you a warning look.

This was too much and too public.

It was just too dangerous and you knew it. It had just happened and you hoped nobody saw it.

"Sorry", he whispered, seeming a bit overwhelmed.

You had to swallow hard and nodded quickly without looking at him.

"You should take off that jacket. Maybe we can get the blood stains out by the sink", you said, hoping that if you just didn't address it, it never would have happened. Together you walked down the bleachers and asked a couple of women from the staff where the nearest sink was. They sent you straight to the hallway and there you found a sink on the wall behind the next corner.

Jeongin slipped out of his jacket and watched you try to wash out the dark stains with water. But it was quite hopeless. The blood had already sunk too deep into the fabric.

"I think that's it for the uniform", Jeongin said, taking the jacket from you to hang it over the edge of the sink.

Just in the white shirt and tie made him look like the main character in a K-drama. His hair fell into his forehead and he shoved his hands into his pants pockets as he looked at you uncertainly. All this time he'd been strangely silent and you couldn't look at him any longer without staring. He looked outrageously handsome with his sleeves rolled up under which the veins on his forearms stood out.

"I'm really sorry about earlier", he finally broke the silence, and when you did look him in the eye now, you realized he was worried about you.

"I didn't mean to attack you like that. You took such care of me and you look so beautiful, I just couldn't control myself and I..."

You had to interrupt him, not being able to stand the way he was torturing himself.

"Innie!"

He looked at you questioningly and stepped from one foot to the other.

"I didn't think it was bad."

"You didn't?", he asked uncertainly, and you immediately wanted to kiss him to exorcise all the self-doubt. He stepped closer until your hands were against his chest and he had to look down at you.

"No. I thought it was really nice, and if there hadn't been so many people there, I would have liked to kiss you too."

A relieved laugh escaped him and he took his hands out of his pockets to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

"So you want me to kiss you?", he asked softly and you had to smile at his uncertainty. He wanted to make sure you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"I want you to do so much more than just kiss me“, you replied with an ambiguous undertone and immediately his cheeks turned rosy and he stroked his fingers up your neck to your chin, where he lifted it slightly and placed his lips gently but intensely on yours.

Slowly you opened your lips and returned the kiss. As if in slow motion, he pulled you to his chest and deepened the kiss. He tasted honey-sweet and touched you with so much passion that you melted right against his chest. With your eyes closed, you felt his tongue on your bottom lip before he took it between his teeth and gently pulled on it. Burying your hands in his hair, you pulled him closer so he could slide his tongue into your mouth and set off fireworks in your head.

The kiss lasted an eternity and you never wanted to stop your tongues dancing together.

His fingers stroked down your back and he kissed you so passionately that your body automatically curved into his. His hands went under your skirt, grabbed your ass and pulled you closer to him until your upper body was pressed tightly against his.

You slid your hands under his shirt and stroked his firm stomach, that's when he broke the kiss to gasp into your mouth:

"I'm already dying to take you right now. Don't tempt me, sweetheart."

"I want you... right now", you gasped, and the sizzle between you was about to explode.

"Everyone else is in the other room", he whispered in your ear and kissed your neck.

You knew that, but you also knew how wet you were by now, just at the thought of feeling him inside you.

You took his hand and slid it between your legs. With wide eyes he looked at you, but immediately stroked your covered cunt with two fingers, feeling how soaked your panties already were.

"God... You're so wet", he gasped and began to move his fingers lightly against your core. Your parted lips and your fingers digging into his chest in the process made him completely lose his mind.

He instantly got hard and you felt his cock against your lower abdomen.

"Do you like it when I touch you like that?", he asked, pushing your panties aside to rub your clit directly, eliciting a gasp from you.

"Yes. But I want all of you!“, you whispered, while stroking his bulge over his pants and grinding your hips against his fingers.

Because of the sounds of the shoot behind the wall right next to you, you realised that someone just had to come around the corner to catch you.

"Fuck it…“, he suddenly muttered then and took your hand tightly in his. As he pulled you down the long hallway, you glanced over your shoulder in confusion.

"What are you doing?"

"We're leaving. You have no idea how many naughty fantasies I had about you..."

You giggled and together you ran to the exit, like little kids who had done something wrong and tried to get away with it. You felt transported back to your school days, where you secretly made out with your crush and it evoked the most exciting feeling.

In the garage, he led you to the big car.

"Do you have the key?", you asked in wonder, and when he just opened the door, you glared at him.

"We usually leave the car open. Someone always forgets something. I know it‘s irresponsible but practical.“

He opened the sliding door and let you climb in until he too came in and pulled the door shut behind you.

"This is still pretty public", he mused aloud, but you were already shoving him into the back seat, where he had been sitting between Hyunjin and Han while you had droven here, and climbing onto his lap.

Immediately he pulled you into a kiss again. Only this time he was more impetuous and you could now feel his boner clearly pressed against your cunt. Quickly you took his tie and literally ripped open his shirt to touch each of his abs one by one.

"Take off your panties! Now!", he demanded and he didn't have to tell you twice. Hastily you slipped out of your thong and at the same time Jeongin pulled down his pants and underpants.

"I want you to ride my cock. I need your pussy so bad, jagi!“

He was impatient and directly his hard length jumped out.

"Since when did you start becoming so naughty, maknae ?" you asked teasingly, climbing back onto his lap.

"Since I tasted you."

He ran both hands under your shirt and pulled it over your head. Your bra popped out and immediately he kneaded your breasts and spread kisses on them.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a grin as you positioned yourself above him and suddenly put his hand around your neck.

With the other, he pressed you down on his length and it felt like he was splitting you into two parts. With the tight grip around your neck, you felt him fill you completely and you couldn't help but moan out loud.

"Fuck... You're gonna crush me", he growled, continuing to guide your hips until he was completely engulfed in you. You were breathing heavily as you tried to adjust to his size and he unclasped your bra and tossed it somewhere to the front of the car.

"Move!", he said and you began to roll your hips against his. His head dropped to his neck and he moaned loudly as you took him as deep as you could. Your fingernails dug into his chest as you were able to use his length the way you wanted and after a few seconds you rode him with faster and faster movements.

He held you by the hips and every gasp and moan you could elicit from him spurred you on even more. While he helped you rock back and forth on his cock, your clit was swollen and aching, begging for more. It didn't take long for your climax to grab you and you came on his dick while moaning his name. But you did not stop. You wanted to satisfy him and you felt him already twitching inside you as you tightened around him.

"God. I'm gonna cum soon, if you continue to take my cock so fucking good", he moaned and kissed your neck and even bit into it lightly, making you gasp his name.

"Come inside me! Fill me up, Innie! Please!"

Your words brought him over the edge and you felt him come and empty deep inside you with a choked gasp. You slowed down and sunk down on his cock.

"Should we stop?", you asked, breathing heavily, while he buried his face in the crook of your neck. In reply buckled his hips into you and began to push you up and down by your hips on his still hard dick.

Your clit was ridiculously sensitive from the first orgasm and you were not sure if you could handle a second one right now.

"Come around my cock again, sweetheart! Then I'm going to fuck you, like you deserve it."

His words turned you on again and you started bouncing on his throbbing cock again. You rolled your hips against his and you could tell Jeongin was holding back from bucking up into you, giving into his greedy desires.

"Shit, you're still so tight", he moaned, staring up at the ceiling, trying to concentrate on not cumming again. You knew that anyone could hear you, even through the doors of the bus, but you were just too drunk on his dick that you could care right now.

Your hands were tightly pressed to his chest, while you worked yourself to your next orgasm, which was already making your whole body tingle.

He didn't meet your gaze, instead, he watched the way his cock disappeared into your stretched hole, admiring the way your juices looked on his member.

"I love hearing you moan like this, angel", he said and guided your hips as you began to lose control due to the high that gripped you for the second time, flooding your entire body with heat. He wasted no time and while you were still working out your orgasm, he started thrusting into your cunt.

"You feel even better than the hyungs had described."

You probably would have blushed at the fact that the boys were talking about you like that, but the youngest of them was penetrating your sore pussy too much for that.

"Innie, oh god... please", you moaned and his gaze finally met yours.

"You like that? Being fucked like this?"

You might've been on top, but you were completely at his mercy by now. You were under his spell since the day you met him, hypnotized by him and his charming smile. He was tantalising you with his dark obsidian eyes. You lived for the lust-driven look in his face and his sweet groans. You bent down and cupped his face, hungrily kissing him. You kissed frantic and heated, desperate to taste each other. He licked his lips as he watched your breasts bounce with every thrust of his hips.

The filthy squelching sounds of him fucking his cum back into you filled the car and he removed his hands from your hips to reach up to cup your breasts, taking one in each hand, squeezing them.

You completely lost the sense of time, but couldn't stop urging each other to the next high. At any moment the shooting could be over and they could come back to the car.

His cock prodded against your cervix. You wondered who taught the boys how to fuck like this. Each of them fucked you in their own way and all of them were gods in this area.

Especially now you were totally addicted to the way Jeongin fucked you.

But finally you were overwhelmed by an orgasm that made you tremble. Your insides seemed to boil and as you tightened around his dick, he also came with a painful grip on your breasts.

Overwhelmed, you worked your highs out for as long as you could before you sank against his chest, breathing heavily. He ran his hand through your hair and pressed a sweet kiss to your temple.

"Was that good?"

You laughed lightly, with your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, still dazed stroking his neck.

"That was amazing, Innie."

He breathed a sigh of relief and stroked your back until your breathing calmed down.

"Move in with us!"

"What?"

You looked at him questioningly, and he knew he didn't have the right or the power to decide that, but he wanted to. You were worth it.

"We have a spare room in the new apartment. Right now it's just for storage, but you could have it."

"JYP wouldn't allow that."

"Why not? Before it takes you hours to get to work because your apartment is far away, it would be a solution. Besides, it would make our job extremely easier."

You couldn't say anything more in response, as the two of you heard muffled voices from outside, peering through the darkened windows.

"Shit! They're coming back!"

Quickly you jumped off his lap and slipped into your underpants and skirt. You felt the mixture of your juices and his cum making a mess in your panties, but you had no choice. You couldn't find your bra, and yet you saw that Chan and Seungmin had almost reached the bus.

Jeongin had already pulled his pants back up and was buttoning his shirt.

There was no more time, so you put on your shirt without a bra and just dropped into the seat next to Jeongin when the sliding door opened.

Chan poked his head in first and when he spotted you, he turned to the others.

"They're here! I told you they went ahead."

One by one, everyone got in and sat down. The driver wasn't here yet, so they looked at you curiously. Jeongin's hair was a mess and his cheeks were flushed. You probably didn't look any better.

"Where were you guys?", asked Lee Know, turning around in his seat to face you.

"Y/N was helping me with that bloody nose you gave me!", he said and Lee Know raised his hands defensively.

"Hey I already apologized!"

"We tried to save the jacket, but it was for nothing", you tried to explain your absence, but it was obvious that no one believed you.

Han had his hands clasped under his chin and was looking at you with a knowing grin, and it would only be seconds before he would say something dumb.

"You certainly had to comfort him", Changbin said then with a laugh, and Jeongin immediately stared at his shoes in embarrassment.

Then Seungmin suddenly bent down and pulled something out from under his seat. Startled, you stared at your red lace bra in his hand, which he now held up.

"Did any of you lose this? Because it's not mine."

"I usually wear black lace underwear", Chan replied, clearly enjoying the whole thing. Quickly, you jumped up and snatched your bra from Seungmin's hands.

Just in time, as the driver boarded and announced the start.

With your head burning, you stuffed the bra into your pocket, feeling the entertained looks of the others on Jeongin and you. On the way back, they continued to tease you for quite a while, but that's when Jeongin started:

"What if Y/N moves in with us?"

Immediately there was confused silence. So you explained your situation to them and that's when Chan said:

"We could ask. Maybe that's really a good idea."

"Would you really want to live with us?", Felix asked over the others and now they all looked at you attentively.

Briefly you looked down at your hands and then answered:

"I think so. Yes. It would make my job a lot easier if I didn't always have to go back and forth between the dorm, work, and my apartment. Plus, I think it could be fun."

"Don't get too excited. Living with 3Racha is like living with three wild animals", Hyunjin said, making you smile and took a punch in the side from Changbin.

Back at JYP Entertainment, you were up to your neck in work, but the idea of living with Stray Kids solidified in your thoughts and you kind of liked the idea.

->Part 12

——————————————————————-

Taglist (closed):

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thesinglesock · 2 years ago

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Psychoanalyzing Lloyd’s most iconic hair styles.

[Post description: a series of screenshots from the animated series LEGO Ninjago. Image shows Kai and Lloyd sitting at a table, they are both holding tea cups. Lloyd is a child with a blonde bowl cut. End description.]

Rise of the Snakes Bowl Cut: this is a child. just a little guy. does not care about self expression through his hair at all, just trying to live his complicated little life.

[Image description: Sensei Garmadon and Lloyd are standing in front of a stone wall. Lloyd is young adult with neatly trimmed, short, blonde hair swept to the side. Garmadon has a similar hairstyle, but grey. End description]

the Sudden Growth Spurt Cowlick: still not a deliberate hair choice, he’s still a kid, trying to mimic his dad because he loves him and looks up to him.

[Image description: Kai has his arm around Lloyd, restraining him. Lloyd has black hair and light green skin. End description.]

the Possession Inversion: Emo phase. that was supposed to be a funny joke but I’m actually crying.

[Image description: Lloyd is holding his sword against Cole’s hammer. Cole’s back is turned to the viewer. Lloyd’s hair is white and nearly reaches his neck. End description.]

Baby’s First Deliberate Hair Choice! Now that he’s no longer feeling like a lost child and is entering his proper Teen Angst Years, the boy bought a pack of cheap bleach and dyed his hair in the monastery bathroom. He also stopped using his dad’s hair gel, sporting a looser, more stylish look.

[Image description: Zane is talking to Lloyd, who appears to be upset. Zane is in his titanium form. Lloyd’s hair is the same style as before, but now in a warm yellow colour with light streaks. End description.]

Post Harumi Golden Locks: you hair matching your girlfriend’s is only cute as long as she isn’t a homicidal maniac. After the Oni Trilogy Lloyd let his hair return to its natural colour, which makes it look much healthier. Too bad his newly developed severe trust issues can’t be fixed by swapping out his conditioner :(

[Lloyd is standing alone in front of a blurry, pink landscape. His hair has more visible dark streaks by the roots. The pink lighting makes it hard to see exactly what kind of blonde it is. End description.]

Dragons Rising: Lloyd has graduated the Angsty Teenager phase. He is now an Exhausted Adult. All his friends are gone, presumed to be dead (again), he is overworked, has adopted two protéges, and has not touched a shampoo bottle in Months. Just look at those greasy roots. Please let him take a break and also a bath.

#ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #vitpost #lloyd garmadon #lloyd ninjago #he's... all grown up??#also I love seeing the animation style evolve. look at where we started.

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shanieveh · 1 year ago

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Helllo! Your genshin headcanon "I like you so much, you'll know it!" Is very adorable 🥺. I can't help but fall in love with it. And every single of them touch my heart like asdhdgfjfkskj💞🥺. Anyway if by chance your request is open,, can i request for this same headcanon but for albedo, xiao, and maybe baizhu & gorou? Or just albedo🙏 please and thankyou sm 💛

of course!!! request is always open :DDDD

i'm in love with you, and now you know!

—in which the genshin men show how much they mean to you pt. 2

ALBEDO who forgets every experiment when you're around, your hair, you face, your features was all he ever needed to be acquaintanced with. He who draws your every action, what you imagined to be your most basic or even worse filters turned ito a beautiful masterpiece, every flaw and insecurity he creates into a mesmerizing artwork, because that is what you are in his eyes.

XIAO who hugs you and comforts you even in days when he is loaded with pain and suffering, who fluffs your pillows and ready your meal—not knowing how to cook but still tried his best. He watches you sleep in the pale moonlight, your cute little snores being his melodies of the night. Those nights by your side, in your hugs is where the protector becomes protected as he sleeps in your embrace.

THOMA is selfless to everyone, but how an angel he is to you. He who carries you when your feet hurt, massaging the sore areas while he walks back home. He who learnt how to comb your hair gently, styling it in every way you like, learning to master how you do it everyday. But can't seem to do so as he is distracted watching your pretty face concentrate, instead of the quick movements of your arms to create your favorite hairstyle.

BAIZHU who doesn't care if any of his patients need to eat the most disgusting of concoction to feel better, but oh how we frowns on his medical lab trying to figure out a medicine for your light fever, making ways on how to give you the yummiest and eye-pleasing but still effective for to consume. He spends hours, no sleep, no rest, just to see you get better and happier by the day. Baizhu who has always feared death, was even more scared of your single frown.

CHILDE who loves fighting, but not with you. Drops on his knees on your front door, no matter the storm or violent rays of the sun he will be still for days, to knock, to plead and when you finally open the front door to hug, to cherish. He was never really good at apologizing, but strings of tears and sorries were what escaped his relieved face. And then came piles of gifts and flowery words—you were his everything and for him to lose that means he is left with nothing.

GOROU who gets shy when you are near, but how he does for you to do so. Bakes cute cookies, and your exact favorite. Reads your belived novels only for his soldiers to laugh as to why the general was reading romance novels. He who mimics the way you write, the way you talk so maybe you'll notice it. The way he is completely utterly and hopelessly devoted to you alone.

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septiseph · 6 months ago

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Hi, I love your art. Can I request one? I think it would be cute if Florian tried dressing up as Kieran, mimicking his hairstyle and clothes. Thanks <3

thank you!

I usually don't accept requests, but that's an interesting idea!

unfortunately I don't have access to my usual art tools right now so I tried to draw on my phone with sketchbook app.

...whew, that was hard, not gonna do that again lol bye

(I think his hair is too short to mimic kieran's hairstyle properly so have his normal hairstyle instead haha)

#ask #anonymous

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mariaofdoranelle · 5 months ago

Text

Look at Us Now - ch. 25

Fic masterlist

Omfg it was about time!!

I used a prompt Diana sent me forever ago about mom&daughter matching outfits but I’ll never find it again to attach the link. Thanks @autumnbabylon! <3

Also, things got a liiittle freaky in the last scene. Is it because I re-outlined URDAD while writing this? We’ll never know!

Warnings: NSFW, golden lingerie

Words: 3,1k

To Maisie’s dismay, she was stuck with her father’s poor braiding skills until she could do better herself. Ever since Rowan found out that he could get himself and Maisie ready in the time Aelin did only her hair and makeup, getting ready to go out became a lot less chaotic.

Simpler, but not simple.

His daughter was almost ready to be dropped off at Aedion’s to go to the movies with him, Lys and her son Timmy, while Rowan and Aelin went to a small party at Dorian’s and Fen’s.

He thought he was prepared for the evening, but one sentence, five words were enough for Maisie to shake his entire world.

“I want the fishtail one,” the little girl said in her bedroom, after he asked her what she wanted to do with her hair.

“Not the one with the ribbons?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Of course,” Rowan said, trying not to show his defeat.

Shit. He had just learned how to do the double french braid with ribbons.

But that what was YouTube was for, anyway. His learning process wasn’t so slow after years of this, but Rowan still praised Maisie for staying still every now and then—he’d never forget the ordeal that was learning how to do her hair from scratch, all alone with an overactive toddler. He had it easy these days.

Aelin burst through the door when he was adding his finishing touches, and her eyes lit up when she saw the little girl’s outfit.

Maisie jumped from the chair and said, “Mommy, we’re twins!”

Rowan may or may not have peeked into Aelin’s closet while she was getting dressed to coordinate her outfit with Maisie’s. Now they were both wearing jean pants and jacket with a white shirt, and it looked adorable. He was even considering taking a picture for when Aelin mocked him for not having a “sense of style”.

Aelin’s eyes widened. “Maisy Daisy! Is your dad trying a new hairstyle on you?”

“Yep!” The little girl turned around to show off her dad’s work.

She swallowed, then plastered on the fakest smile he’d ever seen. “I love to see that, honey! Can I just fix…” Aelin put her thumb and index finger close together to indicate a small amount. “One little thing before we go?”

When Maisie sat back, her mother undid Rowan’s entire work and redid it in the blink of an eye. Flawlessly. And with a jellyfish hair clip.

He blinked, stunned while his daughter picked a toy to take out with her.

Aelin wrapped both arms around his middle and kissed his cheek. “This one’s all about tension,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ll show you later.”

Her breath against his flesh and the double meaning behind her words sent a shiver down his spine, but it was quickly stifled by his daughter’s next words.

“Come on!” she shouted. “Uncle Aedy is waiting!”

Rowan froze. That name triggered a rush of memories, dragging him back to a time and place he wished he could forget. It came back in flashes, his last visit to the sex shop. His unwanted encounter with the man he wanted to call a brother, while Rowan held a purple clit sucker in his hand.

The fact that they found out about each other’s new girlfriends between then and now didn’t make it any better.

“Buzzard, you coming?” Aelin’s voice brought him back, and for a moment he wondered if she saw something haunted in his eyes.

“Do we really have to go see Aedion?”

“You wanna drop Maisie off like she’s an Amazon package?”

“We could.”

Aelin crossed her arms, eyes squinted and scrutinizing him. “Why are you avoiding Aedion tonight?’

Rowan mirrored her position, trying to mimic his girlfriend’s bravado. “What makes you think I’m avoiding Aedion in the first place?”

Truth is, he absolutely was. But admitting it meant explaining the reason why, and there was only so much a man could take.

˜˜

“Munchkin didn’t wanna come?” Was the first thing Fenrys asked, crestfallen when he first saw them at the entrance of his modern apartment downtown. If their friends hadn’t been at the front door to guide them inside, the incense smell and the mixed sound of chatter and little paws on the floor would.

Today’s party was more like a small gathering, so Maisie and Fleetfoot had been invited—Dorian and Fenrys stopped asking Rowan and Aelin for their ragers a long time ago, but it was still nice to make sure exactly how kid-friendly the evening will be.

For a moment, Rowan felt bad for them. Maybe it was because they chose not to have kids, but they really did uphold that vow to become the cool, doting uncles.

And Maisie absolutely adored them back. Until Aedion blurted out that Dorian used to date her mother years back—now the kid got all weird whenever someone mentions his name.

But she’ll get over it. If Rowan did, Maisie will too.

Aelin’s eyes darted between her two friends, a truly apologetic look on her face. “She’s at the movies.” A sigh. “She still hasn’t processed all that… history. Between Dorian and I. But she’ll come around.”

“She will.” Dorian nodded with a mournful look and a curling corner of his lip that betrayed his somberness. “They always get like this when I fuck their moms.”

Rowan tensed, his teeth gritted, but before he could give the man a piece of his mind, Aelin slapped the back of her ex’s head. Still, her scolding expression twitched with suppressed laughter.

She pointed a finger at him. “Do. Not.”

The man took a step back with two hands up in apology and surrender, and gestured for them to wait there.

The living room was large enough to defy the concept of an ‘apartment’, but that and the expensive furniture were the only clues of Dorian’s generational wealth. The place had a bunch of shelves and it still was a huge mess of books scattered everywhere, likely because the man didn’t let anyone help organize them.

The one time he asked about it, Dorian said it ‘fits the aesthetic’. Rowan asked if it was his architect’s first intention to go for an ‘untidy look’. Aelin carefully redirected the subject and it was never brought up again.

Out of thin air, Dorian came back with one drink in each hand.

“Sangrias,” he said before handing them to Aelin and Rowan.

By her eager eyes on the drink, Rowan knew he wouldn’t be drinking much of it today.

Aelin tilted her head, a question in her eyes only he could read. He nodded and squeezed her waist, wordlessly knowing what she wanted.

He’d be glad to be tonight’s driver if it meant his Fireheart was having fun.

Aelin’s first sip was eager; however, her face soon contorted into disgust, her grimace turned into a cough, and soon something in that drink had her gagging. Rowan ran a soothing hand on her back, confused at this reaction.

After a few deep breaths, she turned to Dorian and said, “Did you slide some rotten fruit into this?”

The man gasped. “I find this question highly insulting, Aelin Galathynius.”

Rowan took the drink from Aelin’s hand and smelled it, at the same time Fenrys took Rowan’s untouched drink. Both men sipped it, then gave each other confused glances.

Aelin gaped. “You like it?” she screeched.

He shrugged. It was a little too sweet for his taste, but good sangria still. Dorian and Fenrys were great bartenders.

She waved him off. “You can have it.”

Aelin and Dorian excused themselves to talk with two people from their residency days, so Rowan sat on an armchair by a tall, arched lamp and his friend brought an empty chair so he could sit by his side. Which meant he was alone with Fenrys and his big mouth.

He perched on the edge of his chair with both forearms on his thighs and his trademark smirk. “Now that Maisie won’t come here anymore, I think it’s time for you to make Munchkin No. 2.”

Rowan remained silent. He refused to believe he agreed with one of Fenrys’ jokes.

His friend continued, “And you need to make an honest woman out of Aelin.”

Rowan’s brows went up. “Are you making an honest man out of Dorian anytime soon?”

“And you need to make me a godfather this time…” Fenrys added, completely disregarding what Rowan last said. His friend kept going on the subject, and he zoned out a little, having his own related thoughts.

The ‘marriage and more kids’ subject had been brought up constantly when they finally told everyone about their relationship—nothing Rowan wasn’t thinking about himself.

He had things figured out and was ready to do it, the only problem was finding the right timing.

On one hand, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, rush it and risk fucking up again. He and Aelin had been dating for a little over three months, not the usual time to wait until the proposal—then again, they weren’t an usual couple.

He caught her eye from across the room, gold and turquoise glinting with excitement that soon turned back to the group she was talking to.

On the other hand, a four-letter word plagued his thoughts all day, every day. When Aelin wore his t-shirt after sex in the morning, when he saw the button of her nose on his daughter’s face, when he held her to sleep, drunk in the smell of her hair.

Day and night, Rowan ached to call her his wife.

˜˜

“Buzzard,” Aelin called at his suite, from outside the bathroom. “Why did I find a gift box with my name on it in your closet?”

“You weren’t supposed to find it!” Rowan shouted, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist.

They’d just gotten home after the party at Dorian’s and Fen’s, and were their way to bed. The gift she’d just found was from the sex shop he visited a while ago, but Aelin had been so tired from work lately, he was struggling to find the right opportunity to give it to her.

When Rowan finally got out of the bathroom, the sight of Aelin holding the golden lingerie set he hadn’t given to her yet made his heart hammer inside his chest.

“Menace,” he teased.

She stared at the set with her mouth ajar. “When were you giving it to me?”

Leaned against the doorframe, he cocked his head. “Why were you snooping in my closet?”

“Afraid I might find something, Buzzard?”

Very.

Rowan squinted his eyes at her. “I thought you were ‘so sleepy’ you could ‘die from it’. Your words exactly.”

“Well, Buzzard, I’ve just changed our plans,” she said on her way to the bathroom. Right after closing herself in, Aelin opened a crack in the door to face him and ask, “Is it clean?”

He chuckled. “I washed everything so we could use it right away.”

“Perfect.” Her smile was so bright it lit him up.

She had been suggestive enough that Rowan hung his towel without bothering to put his clothes on, and it gave him time to think.

First, he needed to keep an eye on Aelin’s curiosity regarding his closet.

Second—there was no second. He was just dying to see Aelin in gold again.

“You okay there, Ae?”

“Eager much?” she asked on her way out of the bedroom. Aelin squared her shoulders and did a little twirl, cocky as ever, but then adjusted a strap. “It feels a little weird on the breasts, but it fits.”

“Pity,” Rowan said, unable to keep his eyes off her. “I think my hands need to get more acquainted with them.”

His movements were languid as he slid his hands from her hips to the sides of her chest, trembling with desire. His Fireheart looked like a living flame and, fucking hell, he couldn’t believe his luck to be the one that got to touch her.

Rowan felt the warmth and softness of her skin, her shiver as his ravenous eyes devoured the curve of her hips to the slope of her breasts. It was dizzying, the creamy of her skin, the brown of her freckles, dusty rose round tissue poorly hidden, taut with the need to be touched.

All wrapped in thin straps and golden lace.

Rowan’s loins grew near feverish with just the sight of her, and so far the way he touched her only worsened the ache in his fingers.

“Buzzard?” Aelin’s eyes were filled with something he’d recently realized that stood between mirth and desire. “Are you gonna stare at me all night?”

He chuckled, a pained sound, and hid his face on the side of her neck. “I could, you know.”

Before she got the chance to tease him further, Rowan brushed his lips against her pulse point. Standing in the middle of his room with both hands on her hips, he intensified his ministrations on her neck until Aelin’s teasing disappeared, leaving him with small whimpers and the goosebumps she left with those nails on the roots of his hair.

She pulled his mouth to hers, fingers now busy tracing his abs and pecs. His muscles were mostly a welcome consequence of his job and lifestyle, but it did make him feel smug when Aelin openly delighted in it the way she did.

Rowan grabbed her waist tighter and pinned their waists together, his naked length pressed against her stomach while he flicked his tongue against hers. She held his neck and let out a breathy moan, chasing the friction as much as he did.

That is, until Aelin took a step back and turned around. He stopped her by the foot of the bed, one hand splayed across her lower belly, the other covering her breast.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rowan asked before he tilted her head to the side and sucked the skin of her neck into his mouth.

Her breath hitched, then she let out a breathless chuckle. “Going to our bed?”

Our. Not quite, but he liked the sound of that.

Rowan sneaked one hand in between her folds and cursed. “You’re so wet, baby.” A peck on her shoulder. “Is that for me?”

“Um—“ He pinched a nipple, and the back of Aelin’s head fell against his shoulder. “I did take a good look in the mirror before too.”

So fucking sassy.

In one quick thrust, Rowan slid all the way in, spreading her cunt open to fill it whole at once. Aelin cried out, and her body jerked forward a little—would’ve been a lot if he hadn’t held her so closely.

“Shit, I—“ Rowan could barely think, his thoughts clouded with lust. “Too rough?”

“Too good. Lemme just…” Aelin kneeled on the edge of the bed, making herself taller so Rowan could and fuck her from behind better.

And that he did.

Standing still with her kneeling on bed before him, her back to his chest, Rowan ruthlessly snapped his hips against hers. Aelin gave it as good as she got, back arched as she met his thrusts and pushed against them—there wasn’t much she could do in this position, but he liked having her at his mercy like this.

With tension bursting under his skin, Rowan brought one hand to Aelin’s neck, slightly choking her. He felt her tremble under his touch, and the shaky way she moaned his name in return was enough to make his skin burn.

The other hand went back to her pussy, muscle memory eased his finger’s path to her clit. The friction made her gasp, then Aelin ground her hips against his hand and cock both. The way she writhed on his arms was telling enough, so Rowan held himself back to keep her preferred pace constant. Soon enough she screamed his name and collapsed on his arms. Rowan pulled out, but watching Aelin orgasm so prettily for him it didn’t ease his ache in the slightest.

He placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “You alright, honey?”

“Perfect.” She had a dazed smile on. “Did you—“

Rowan snapped his cock back inside her because no, he did not. And he wouldn’t until she did again.

Aelin whimpered, then continued to roll her hips against his as he picked the pace once again. She took his cock until Rowan decided otherwise, like the good girl she was.

The only problem being that Rowan didn’t exactly choose when his cock would give out, and he was already too excited from Aelin’s first round. He did have his tongue and fingers in case the worst happened, but…

He pulled out took a step back—which didn’t go unnoticed by Aelin, given her frown—to grab the clit sucker.

Rowan aligned himself with her but didn’t thrust, earning him a whine from her.

“Greedy much, love?” He grabbed a fistful of her hair with one hand, while he figured out the vibrator with the other.

Before Aelin could complain further, he turned it on and put it on her clit at the same time he pounded into her again. Aelin screamed, her hips moved in a lost, frenzied pace as she tried to grab whichever parts of him she could with her back to him.

“Do you want to…” Rowan managed while panting, “The speed.”

“I—“

A thrust, or the spot it hit, made her moan and clench around him, which brought the messy string of curses uttered by Rowan. Well, she’d change the speed if she wanted to.

Aelin covered his hand with hers to change the vibrator’s speed, chasing her second climax. And Rowan—fucking hell, he wasn’t lasting much longer. His muscles felt as tight as they could be, surrounded by fire, and in this pre-orgasm state, if Rowan had the spare mental energy to pray and ask to last any longer, he would.

Aelin went still, calling out his name with a shattered breath. He waited until she completely fell apart to turn the vibrator off, and a few thrusts later Rowan shattered with her. With a blurred vision, he emptied himself around her walls, which still spasmed and contracted around his cock.

A brief kiss with a tug on the strap of her golden bra. “Take this off for me and lay down on the bed, will ya?” Rowan asked from behind, his hands still holding onto her body. “I’m not done with you yet.”

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