#ab smut

[weretheones]

May I ask why you don’t write smut? If it’s too personal you don’t have to answer (ofc you don’t have to answer either way), and it’s not a problem or anything I’m just curious! Love your fics btw!!

hi!

this might be really long bc I love to ramble so here's a tldr: writing about sex in detail just feels too vulnerable sometimes. when i'm able to get over that, I don't have much practice writing smut which makes me very critical of my work lol. I might still dabble time to time (like I did with no rush), but it won't be consistent.

longer answer below

I started writing fic at 13ish. I obviously didn't write smut then, so when I came back to fic at 21 last year, I just never really considered it? I was so used to writing other content that I didn't feel like it was something I needed to do, you know?

then more recently, when I thought about trying smut, I felt weird actually writing it. partly because I have the comedic maturity of a 14 year old boy, so anything sexual (aka all of it) had me giggling and anything I wrote was completely unserious. though its mostly because I have a boyfriend in real life (my REAL babygirl). we've been together a longggg time and I guess sex is has just become a very intimate thing for me, like it is for a lot of people, so I feel extremely vulnerable/exposed writing about it. I know its fictional and just because I write it doesn't mean I'm actually involved, but its still coming from my head... so it just feels weird.

for the record: my bf knows I write fanfic about daryl/twd. he's very supportive and just happy that I have a fun hobby. he doesn't care if I write smut, I just don't always want to lol.

anyway, I still like to experiment sometimes (lets be real... when i'm horny), even if I am highly critical of it. I love a good suggestive scene, too! idk if I'll ever write a full smut scene (like p in v), but I do have some... unhinged... drafts. maybe even some plans for all you got... we'll see.

thank you for being respectful in ur ask! I don't mind the curiosity, as long as you're kind (like you were). thank you for the love, too <3

[kurooh]

suguru’s so pretty like this, always orderly hair in his face and messy as his face crumbles in absolute pleasure; with the soft skin of his thighs covered in dark hickeys, legs spread while you take him deeper into your throat. whenever you’re between his knees, he always loses his composure and becomes deliciously vulnerable. you know what you’re doing to him, of course, and you don’t stop even after he cums down your throat.

no, you keep deepthroating him, shoving his cock down as far as possible, and sometimes suguru even shakes his head, letting out a soft plea.

“baby, it’s too much, i can’t cum again..”

suguru thinks you’ll listen, not keep trying to milk everything out of him. so, his lip can only tremble as he looks down at you with panic in his teary eyes; but he can’t close his legs, or find it in himself to push you away.

“i-it hurts, i can’t—”

but he weakly fights against the pain and pleasure before it all overwhelms him and he’s spilling down your throat again. it’s so much that he twists a hand through his soft tresses, tugging hard in hopes of grounding himself.

this always happens, whenever you suck his cock. you’re never able to stop, and despite what he says, he doesn’t want you to.

[cvnt4him]

doctor!izu not being able to keep things professional w his patient

after his nurse leaves the room shortly he comes in, welcoming you and checking you up quickly seeing how you are what the problem is and all that jazz. You explain to him the problem youre having, something to do with being afraid of being infertile. You wished you knew what happened, what led you to being fucked against the bed, gown ripped completely off as he plowed you from behind. Whispery sweet and savory things into your ear telling you how well you're taking it and if you don't quiet down you both might get in some trouble. He's a good doctor, honest, it's not as if he's bad at his job he just couldn't help when a cutie like you needed help! His help, nonetheless. He sticks his fingers into our mouth in an attempt to silence you drool and spit tickling down his arm and your chin as you throw your head back arching your back and slamming your ass back against his cock causing a horribly loud slapping sound of your skin connecting repeatedly. Izuku wished he felt guilty about this, but to be truthful he doesn't. He's just helping out a patient if we're being honest! He's gonna fill you to the brim with his creamy milky sticky cum and you'll come back to see if you're pregnant, that way you'll find the results you were hoping for! Like the good doctor he is he helps you put your clothes on and sends you on your way with cum leaking from your cunt, hey, he even gives you a lollipop! How sweet!

[pequins]

instead of “good girl” i think schlatt would say “atta’ girl” during sex, and that is so much hotter for some reason …

“atta’ girl” as he grabs your hair and pushes your head down further on his cock [explodes]

[lovegalor333]

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

backseat ride (paige x reader)

summary: paige looks too irresistible wearing a crop top

content warnings: smut! ab riding dirty talk all the good stuff you know how it goes

inspired by this request! 💋

“You good ma?” Paige asks as she hands you your drink, a vodka cranberry. It’s another Friday night in Ted’s with Paige and her friends, you met them here a few minutes ago after taking longer than expected to get ready.

“Uh huh.” You nod, sipping on your straw and chewing it slightly. You already had alcohol in your system after pre-drinking with your roommates and the way Paige looked tonight had you feeling some type of way.

“Are you sure? You’re acting weird.” Paige presses, a frown on her face and head cocked to the side. Her hair was pulled into a half up, half down style with two pieces left out framing her face. She had on black cargo pants, that hung low on her waist, the perfectly sculpted ‘V’ poking out just enough to have you feeling dizzy and the crop top she wore left very little and at the same time, too much to the imagination. The way the silver chains hung around her neck so delicately, had you yearning for them to be dangling in your face as Paige topped you.

“You just look so fucking hot.” You murmur and you watch as Paiges lip curve into a small smirk.

“Sorry ma, I didn’t quite hear you.” Paige teases, dipping her head down, “Say that again.”

“You. look. so. fucking. hot.” You drawl out into her ear, eyes flicking down to her exposed torso and you salivate at the way her abs look in the low light of the bar, even more defined than usual, the lights reflecting off each ripple.

“My eyes are up here.” Paige chuckles, lifting your head by your jaw to resume eye contact.

“You know how I get when you wear these little tops.” You rasp as you run your finger along the hem of the crop top she’s wearing and down her stomach, finally getting a touch of what you’ve been staring at since you set eyes on her, just minutes ago.

“I do.”

“So you did it on purpose?” You fake pout at your girlfriend and she just smiles, looking way too smug for your liking.

“Well, great minds think alike because I hope you know this dress is far too tight to wear any panties.” You smirk and Paiges eyes widen before narrowing and she pulls her bottom lip into her mouth.

Not so smug anymore.

“My car is outside.” She stated and she grips your wrist firmly as she leads you out of Teds into the parking lot. Your confession had fired her up and you were gagging for it.

Her car is parked in a far corner and your stomach tingles in anticipation as you both take hurried steps towards it. Paige opens the back door and practically pushes you inside before scanning your surroundings making sure no one could see you both and what you were about to do.

“Have you lost your damn mind? No panties in a little dress like this?” Paige asks as she slips into the car, closing the door behind her, her eyes raking over your figure in the tight, silk dress you chose to wear.

“You could see the outline. It ruined the outfit.” You protested as Paige continued to gawk at you. She was undressing you with her eyes and it made your cunt throb.

“Such a little slut.” Paige hisses, finally reaching out to touch you, her hand inches up your thigh and your legs spread needily.

“Only for you, P.” You gulp as her veiny hand moves further towards your core.

“Come and show me just how much of a slut you can be.” She asserts, slouching down in the seat, lap open and ready for you. Her rippled stomach calls your name, abs begging to be ridden.

You straddle your girlfriend and your dress rides up as you do, she wastes no time pushing it all the way, exposing your bare cunt and she takes a sharp intake of breath, “Such a pretty pussy.” She purrs before tracing your folds with her thumb, “Shits already wet for me baby.”

“Uh huh.” You choke out and can’t stop yourself from bucking your hips at her tender touch.

“We both know what you want. Ride my abs like the dirty girl you are.” Paige breathes out, eyes piercing into yours.

You lift yourself slightly, hands planted on her chest for stability as you position your pulsating cunt over her toned torso. You begin to lower yourself but Paige slams her hands on your thighs and pushes you down so you’re flush against her.

You whimper at the initial touch of her skin on you, it already feels so good, hard and firm under your puffy folds. You begin moving your hips at a pace to create enough friction to stimulate your clit, “Shit.” You grunt, heading dropping down in pleasure and you watch as Paige abs grow wetter and wetter with your leaking slick.

“Look at me.” Paige demands, “I want to watch you.”

You flick your eyes up and lock them on to Paiges, her eyes are hooded and pupils dilated as she watches you get yourself off using her body.

“Fuck Paige, you feel so good.” You cry as you quicken your pace, one hand on her shoulder, finger nails digging into the skin and the other pressed to the window keeping you up right, leaving a print on the already steamy glass.

“Yeah? Such a little slut, coming out in no panties. Makes me wanna take you home right now and fuck you.” She groans, hands gripping your thighs so tight the skin is turning red.

“Tell me-ugh- tell me how you’d fuck me.” You pant, mouth dropping open pornographically as a searing heat builds between you and Paige.

“I’d bend you over every surface, make you take my cock- fuck, you look so good- with this dress hiked up at your waist.” Your eyes roll back at the image Paige is painting in your mind and it only makes you move faster, more frantic, desperate for the feeling of her rubbing up against you.

“Keep going.” You beg, the salacious words tumbling out of her lips, heightening your arousal.

“I’d pound into you over and over until you couldn’t take it anymore, you’d be crying, begging me to stop but sluts don’t get to make requests so I’d keep going.” One of her hands is gripping your tit and you moan louder as she squeezes it harshly.

“Oh-fuck baby.” You grunt, overwhelmed with everything you’re feeling. One hand on your thigh, keeping you pressed to her, the other kneeding your tit, her rock hard abs beneath your dripping cunt.

“Holding you by your hair, fucking you senseless until you cum, once, twice, three times. You’d make a mess. So wet and sticky, wouldn’t you?”

“Y-yes! Shit, keep talking like that. Gonna make me cum.” You whimper out, her words were flithy and your need for her was carnal.

Paige chuckles lowly, “Such a dirty girl. You’d be on your knees, mouth open and I’d shove my cock down your throat,” She pushes two fingers into your mouth, “choking you as you tasted yourself. Licking me clean.” You gag as she pushes her fingers deeper.

“Fuck, look at you.” Paige groans and you both glance down at your sopping cunt humping her muscles, your juices pooling in the grooves.

The sight alone has you squeezing your thighs at either side of her torso. Your legs begin to shake, struggling to hold your weight as you feel your climax edging closer.

“Gonna- gonna cum.” Your cries are muffled with her fingers still in your mouth.

“Good girl baby, keep going. Want you all over me.” Paige purrs as her hands attach to your hips and she rocks you back and forth.

“Fuck! I’m so close.” You gasp, head tipping back as the muscles in your cunt contract and release as the pressure builds.

Paige has her lip clamped between her teeth as her eyes focus on your core and it’s reaction to her. Her chest is rising and falling at a quickened pace and her brows furrow as she meets you half way, jerking her body beneath you helping you get to your peak.

“Ugh- I’m cumming! Shit!” You howl, grabbing onto the chain around Paiges neck as you let out a strangled, throaty groan. Your thighs clench around your girlfriend as your orgasm fires through you, your body shaking and contorting in immense pleasure.

Paige wraps her arms around you and you fall forward, her face is buried in your chest and she presses sloppy kissing to your clammy skin, “That’s it baby.” She praises, hands rubbing up and down your back as you pant, breathlessly into the crook of her neck.

You lean back off Paige, resting on the back of the drivers seat and she admires your fucked out appearance as you catch your breath. Her face is filled with contentment knowing that she made you cum from just sitting there, letting you use her body in the way you so desperately needed it. No strap, no toys, no fingers, no tongue, just her abs.

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

a/n: everyone say thank you anon for requesting this 🙂‍↕️

this outfit and video had me all the way fucked up !! 😵‍💫🫨

[thesecretw0rld-blog]

Posting this while Peach Fuzz is still the Pantone Color of the Year

[sqtorux]

imagine you being a brat and an utter pain in the ass so sukuna decides that he has had enough of your attitude and just slaps his palms over your pussy all while you could only yelp in return.

the catch though, is the mouth that manifests on his palms as he begins to eat you out while you could do nothing but squirm in pleasure trying to pull away to save your ego but his other three hands hold you in place while he only stares down proudly at the pretty sinful faces you're making.

[reidphobic]

trying hard not to get into trouble (but i’ve got a war in my mind) - s. r.

in which your criminology professor is just too tempting. 3359 words.

switch!spencer x switch!fem reader, questionable age gap & power dynamic, mild exhibitionism, authority kink, brief choking, praise, semi-public sex, oral (f and m receiving), mild degradation, no use of y/n

Your bare thighs stick uncomfortably to the plastic lecture hall chair, and you shift in your seat. Still, you focus diligently on the lecture, or, more specifically, on your professor. Dr. Reid is your favourite kind of challenge, a man you can’t have, the kind who won’t compromise his morals no matter how much he wants you — or, thinks he won’t.

You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on you just a second too long, flickers down to your chest before he catches himself. Toying with him is the highlight of your week, coming up with new ways to torture him, push his boundaries as far as you can before he snaps. The semester is drawing to a close, though, and you haven’t quite snared your pretty professor yet, so you’re having to resort to drastic measures.

It’s like he’s deliberately avoiding you, eyes sliding over you as if you’re not even there. You hope that means your barely-there outfit is working as intended. Dr. Reid refuses to call on you to answer a question, stuttering through his sentences and raking his hand through his unkempt curls. You wonder if they’re soft to the touch, if he likes having them pulled, if— Focus. You raise one hand, digging through your bag with the other. When his attention is finally on you, you spout off some stupid question that’s believable enough not to arouse suspicion; he sees right through it, though, knows the ruse.

Out of politeness, Dr. Reid keeps his focus on you as he speaks. His words come out rapid-fire as if he’s trying to escape you before you do any more damage. It only makes him stumble more, and his struggle is frankly adorable. His reaction as you wrap your lips around a cherry-flavoured sucker is audible, a hitch in his breath and a waver in his voice as you smile innocently around the candy. From then, he can’t take his eyes off you, watching your red-stained tongue lap at sticky sugar, fist clenching and unclenching at his side.

You’ve got him right where you want him.

Leaning back in your chair, you smirk slightly, wait to draw his attention. When he meets your gaze, you spread your legs, give him a deliberate eyeful of the tiny scrap of lace between them. At that, you physically see him snap, rail against the constraints of his moral compass, finally, gloriously give in. A thrill skitters up your spine as he stops in front of your desk. “See me after class,” he murmurs, jaw clenched.

“Yes, Professor,” you breathe, licking your lips as your thighs clench under the table.

You linger as your class lets out, carefully reapplying your lipgloss while you wait for the room to empty. When you’re finally alone, you approach his desk cautiously. “You wanted to see me, Professor Reid?” you say delicately, suddenly uncertain — you might just be in for the reprimand of your life, and that’s no fun for anyone.

“If you’ll just come with me to my office,” he says tightly, staring resolutely past you as he stands from his desk. Desire pools under your skin, your every nerve alive with tension as Dr. Reid lets you into his office. The sound of the lock clicking shut falls straight between your thighs — that’s when you know you’ve got him. You sit demurely in his armchair, legs crossed as he puts as much distance between the two of you as possible, standing across the room with his arms folded protectively across his chest. “I think we need to discuss your behaviour in my classroom.”

You smile. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor,” you say, putting on a wide-eyed, naive look you’re sure he won’t fall for. Unconsciously, he steps towards you. 

Dr. Reid’s gaze is unreadable. “Really? That little stunt with the sucker, I— I know what you’re doing, and it has to stop, okay?” he says, and, oh. He’s the one pleading with you.

It makes sense, once you think about it. You know he used to be an FBI agent; a dangerous, high-stress job like that, it’s no surprise he’d want to shut off, hand over the control, be taken care of, entrust his pleasure entirely to someone else. “Why would I stop?” you pout. He’s close enough now that you could reach out and touch him. “I’m having so.” You take Dr. Reid’s tie delicately between your fingers. “Much.” You pull him in gently. “Fun.” You tug sharply on his tie, hard enough that he stumbles, bracing his hands on the arms of your chair.

He lets out a shaky gasp, like he’s expecting you to unhinge your jaw and swallow him whole. “This is… The, uh…” He clears his throat. “The way you’re acting in my class is not appropriate, and it needs to stop,” he says. You’d almost call it firmly, if not for the near-imperceptible tremor in his voice.

You note that he hasn’t pulled away. “I don’t think you want me to stop, Professor,” you murmur. “I think you want me to stop teasing you, and you want me to give you what you want.” Your smile widens the longer he stays silent; searching for the words to refute you, but the lie won’t come. “Tell me what you want, Doctor Reid,” you purr.

“I can’t,” he breathes. “You aren’t… It’s not…”

“Look at me and tell me you don’t want this,” you breathe, catching his jaw so he can’t look away.

His mouth opens, but no words come out, speechless in a way you’ve never seen him. “I… I’m twenty years older than you.”

You grin. “And?”

“I’m your teacher,” he protests, nearly a whine, and oh, isn’t that a delicious sound.

“So?”

“So?” Dr. Reid repeats, incredulous. “I can’t… have sex with you in my office!” he hisses, low as if someone might be listening in.

Your grin only widens, and you pull him down towards you, so close that his breath skates across your lips. He twitches nervously, like you’re close to breaking him, like he’s this close to doing something he’ll regret. “But you want to,” you murmur, cupping his jaw and letting your fingers trace his cheekbone. “Tell me, Professor… When was the last time you had something just because you wanted it, hm?” He shudders, eyes fluttering closed. “I’ll take real good care of you, sir, I promise.”

With a strangled groan, he gives in. The kiss is sudden, harsh like he’s furious with you for pulling him in like this. Soft lips give way to sharp teeth, greedy tongues, slotting together like you were moulded for him. Your hand slides up into his hair, tangling in his curls as you kiss him harder. A moan slips from your lips when you pull away for air, and the sound seems to drive him well and truly into madness. His lips meet yours with a renewed hunger, resting a hand at your jaw when he breaks away.

Spencer (you’ve just had your tongue down his throat, for God’s sake, you’ve earned the right to call him by his first name) strokes his thumb over your bottom lip, gazing down at you with awe and disbelief written across his face. He sucks in a sharp breath when you close your lips around his thumb, lapping at it just like the sucker from earlier. “You’re trying to kill me,” he breathes.

Releasing his thumb with a slick pop, you laugh. “Is that what you think?” You stand up, press your body into his. Spencer nods warily. “You’d know. If I was trying to kill you, I’d do something like this,” you murmur, sliding your hand up his throat and pressing down softly. His eyes flutter closed in surrender, and a filthy, spit-slick grin spreads wide across your lips. “You like that? Good boy,” you say silkily, letting go of his throat as he nods. “You gonna let me take care of you, Professor?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, and when you let your gaze wander away from his flushed face and down his body, your lips part softly at the sight of him straining against his pants. You dip your head to kiss his neck, wishing you could bruise, make him yours, but you restrain yourself.

Rough carpet grazes your knees as you sink to the floor, hands coming up to work his belt open. You kiss him through his pants, slide his zipper down with your teeth. Spencer whines, and the sound sends a pulse of arousal through you. “So needy, sir,” you croon, slowly pulling him free of his boxers. It’s probably the prettiest you’ve ever seen, thick and hard in your palm, drooling precum as you lean in to kiss the tip. The salt taste of him fills your mouth and you moan involuntarily, his hips twitching as you pump his cock slowly.

Hands thread into your hair, but the touch is gentle, reverent, born from need rather than demand. Not that you’d say no to his manhandling you, but you get the sense that’ll take some time. “If you want something, it’s polite to ask,” you tease, holding Spencer’s hips when he tries to fuck into your hand.

“Fuck, please,” he hisses, and the obscenity slides deliciously up your spine. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so gorgeous down there. I want you so badly, I just— please?” Spencer whines, and he sounds so sweetly pathetic that you take pity on him, wrap your lips around his head. The moan that falls from his lips is made of pure lust, and you shiver, arousal dripping between your thighs.

You suck and lick at him, eager and teasing, moaning as the taste of him fills your mouth. Spencer trembles with the effort of holding still, not fucking up into your mouth, and his hands unconsciously tighten in your hair. “You can be a little rougher, if you want,” you say, sliding your palms up his clothed thighs and taking him in your mouth again. You moan around him as his cock bumps the back of your throat, swallowing a gag with practiced ease.

Spencer’s hand curls into a fist in your hair, your stomach clenching in anticipation. The gentle sting when he tugs just a little buzzes under your skin, and you moan enthusiastically around him, hollowing your cheeks and taking him even deeper. “Fuck,” he whines, hips jerking forward until his cock bumps the back of your throat. Heat throbs between your legs as he twitches on your tongue, and you can tell from the sounds he’s making that he’s close. 

You double your efforts, pulling off to lick around his head and drip spit along his length. Arousal throbs in your belly, hips grinding down against nothing. Slowly, you take him all the way back in, moan low in your throat when he’s buried to the hilt. You trace your tongue across the vein throbbing on his underside, and Spencer lets out the sweetest, most desperate little whimper you’ve ever heard. “I- I’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum, fuck, baby, oh, my God,” he gasps, needy and adoring.

His voice trembles as he begs, so soft you’re not sure he knows he’s speaking aloud, and the way he pleads your name, fuck. Time blurs around you, your head goes hazy, pleasure knotting itself deliciously around your insides. Spencer gives a strangled moan, a garbled sound that might be your name, and that’s all the warning you get. You swallow greedily as he spills on your tongue, twitching and moaning and praising you through short, gasping breaths.

He’s still twitching with the aftershocks as you pull off, kneeling to smile blithely up at him. Spencer’s eyes are wide, sparkling with adoration as he struggles for breath. “How was that, Professor?” you tease. “Do I get an A?”

He gives a groaning sort of laugh, pulls you to your feet. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, still gazing into your eyes. It’s disarming, and you get the distinct impression he can read what you’re thinking as plainly as if it were stamped on your forehead. “Come here, come on,” he adds, pulling at your hips and pressing your body into his. You’re almost shocked when he kisses you, hard and greedy and hungry, the most aggressive he’s been this entire time. He sanitises his damn desk three times in a class, for God’s sake — you’d half expected him to hand you a toothbrush when you stood from the floor.

And yet, he’s kissing you breathless, and his hands are tangled in your hair, and his body is pressed so close to yours that you can barely tell where you end and he begins. “Thank you,” he mutters against your lips. “That was incredible. You’re incredible. You’ve gotta let me— Come here, sit,” he says, guiding you to sit on his desk. You balance between scattered papers, an uncapped pen bleeding a black stain into your skirt. 

“Let you do what, Doctor?” you say, quiet and breathy, gazing up at Spencer with wide, adoring eyes.

Spencer smiles, and something warms in your chest at the sight. Long, delicate fingers trace along your thigh, push up your skirt until your panties are on full display. “Pretty,” he remarks, maddeningly casual. “Did you wear these for me?”

“Of course, sir. I don’t dress up for boys anymore.” You swallow, bite your lip. You decide to lay it on a little thicker. “See, I need a man.”

“Is that so?” Spencer murmurs, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties. Your heartbeat quickens, excitement throbbing between your legs as he drags them down. “Look at you, sweet girl. So wet. Is that all from sucking my dick?” he teases, and you shudder.

You don’t know where the sudden obscenity, sudden dominance came from, but it thrills you all the same. “Mhmm,” you murmur. “What are you gonna do about it?” Smirking, Spencer picks up your panties, lets them dangle from his fingertips, red lace starkly incongruous from the calm, studious background of his office.

After a beat, his grin turns wicked and he tucks them into his pocket. “Safekeeping,” he says, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. The movement is so tender that it stops you in your tracks, a shimmering thread of something more than simple desire stringing between you. His eyes glitter, and you know he feels it too. Then, long fingers start to work at the buttons of your blouse. “I want to see all of you,” Spencer says, bending his head to kiss your lace-clad breast as your shirt falls open.

His hand skates up your thigh, oh-so close to where you need it. “Please,” you breathe. “Please, sir. I need you.” Spencer draws his hand away and you whine pathetically, your bare thighs suddenly impossibly cold.

“Be patient, sweet girl,” he says, low and almost dangerous. A thrill skitters up your spine as he sinks to his knees, gazing intently at your dripping wet core. “Beautiful,” he mutters, so quietly you don’t even think he’s talking to you. His hands slide up to your thighs again, spreading them apart gently. “Are you gonna let me taste you, beautiful?”

You nod frantically, cunt fluttering at his words. He kisses the inside of your knee, works his way down your thigh. A brief, bright spark of pain flickers through you as Spencer sucks a bruise into your skin and you moan. A rush of incredibly gratifying heat washes over you when you realise he’s marking you; a hidden little secret lying just beneath your polished exterior. Spencer won’t be able to see anything else when he looks at you. 

He pulls away from his assault on your thighs to look up at you, doe-eyed. “Tell me you want this. Please. I need to hear you say it.” You shudder, closing your thighs around his head and threading a hand into his curls so he can’t drag himself any further away.

“Spencer,” you moan. His eyes blow wide at the sound of his name from your lips. “Please. I need you,” you breathe. “Need you to make me cum, sir, please. Haven’t I been good for you? Don’t I deserve it?” You bite your lip to muffle a scream when Spencer leans in, licks a broad, flat stripe along your soaked core.

He’s methodical, at first, and you know somehow that he’s carefully cataloguing your responses. His tongue flicks over your clit, slow at first and then faster, pressure mounting between your thighs. Spencer moans into you, shifts his hips, and you realise: he’s getting off on this. A jolt of arousal so strong you literally pulse against his mouth rips through you, and you feel his lips curve into a smirk.

Big, soft hands dig hard into your thighs, pulling you flush against him like he could bury himself in you. “You taste so good, baby,” he whines, pressing his tongue flat against your hole as you grind your hips forward. Pleasure curls under your skin, swelling and pressing against your organs, crowding your mind until you can’t think, can’t feel anything but him. Your toes curl in your shoes, stomach clenching as your orgasm builds and builds. Breaking away, Spencer presses tender little kisses to your inner thighs, licks soothingly over his bite mark. 

Just as you’re starting to whine at the loss, he wraps his lips around your swollen clit. Sudden, electric ecstasy shoots through your body when he sucks on your sensitive nerves and it’s all you can do not to scream his name for the entire campus to hear. “Oh, fuck,” you whine instead, rocking your hips in a frantic, desperate rhythm. “M’so close, sir, please— You gotta let me— fuck!” you gasp, cunt clenching as he slides two fingers into you. You’re so wet that it’s easy, a slick slide as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“Good girl,” he murmurs. “Look how well you take me,” he says, staring openly at the point his fingers disappear into your body, your greedy cunt parted around them as wet, obscene noises fill the room. He kisses your clit softly and your legs kick out. “You’re gonna look so pretty taking my dick, hm?”

Your mind goes blank, pleasure thudding sickly in your throat, humming in your ears. “I want it,” you whine. “God, I want you to fucking— mmm— bend me over this desk ‘n— fuck— make me all stupid for you. Oh, God, Spencer, m’so close!” you cry, tugging at his hair and writhing helplessly.

“Go on, pretty girl,” Spencer says, softly urging. “Cum for me.” He pumps his fingers, licks at your clit, gently coaxes you over the edge. Your hands white-knuckle the edge of the desk as pure pleasure washes over you. Your body slumps, weak and powerless against the weight of your orgasm ripping through you. Spencer doesn’t let up, smiling into you as you write above him, murmuring soft praises that fade into a low buzz against your pulse hammering in your ears.

Spencer’s lips and chin glisten with your arousal, still kneeling between your legs as you struggle back to your body. “That was… Shit, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand,” you giggle, testing your weight as you shuffle off his desk. Spencer leans down to kiss you, and the taste of yourself on his lips is dizzying. Pouting, you glance up at the clock hanging over his door. “I have class.”

As much as he wants to, Spencer won’t tell you to cut class, and you both know it. “Would you like to, uh…” He clears his throat, adjusts his tie, and just like that, he’s back to the sweet, nervous academic you’re used to. “Continue this discussion later? I’ll— I’ll be here all day.”

Your lips stretch wide in a saccharine smile as you slowly button your shirt. “Why, Doctor Reid, are you asking me to meet you after hours? How scandalous,” you giggle, pressing a soft, near-chaste kiss against his lips. “I’ll be back at six.”

[intromortal]

MAKING OUT WITH FRESH OUT OF THE SHOWER HEE !

PAIRING: lee heeseung and kinda shy!reader

WARNINGS: hee is a menace, making out, grinding, not proofread sorey

a/n: this was an ask but i'm a dumbass and deleted the entire post

you were hanging out at heeseung's place like usual, lazily scrolling through your phone while he took a quick shower. this was routine for you.

except he usually came out changed in a fresh set of clothes and hair barely damp. definitely not with red strands completely wet, dripping on his very naked shoulders and torso and with a white towel loosely wrapped around his hips, hanging so low you could start to see the shape of a v form.

you didn't mean to ogle, truly. but the way rivulets of water ran close to his brown perked nipples and on his chiseled abs, following the defined lines they created, had you simply salivating.

you cast away your gaze shamefully once you realized what you were doing, cheeks heating up from embarrassment.

you cleared your throat with difficulty as he kept moving around his room, opening drawers in search of something to change in with all the ease in the world, like he had no rush to cover himself whatsoever.

“uhm… can i maybe ask why you’re literally naked right now,” you interrogated, a hint of irritation in your tone. not that you minded the view obviously, you thought it would come quite in handy during lonely nights when you needed to get yourself off actually. but it was also not gonna help your blossoming feelings for the man in front of you.

“i just forgot to bring clothes with me when i went in,” he deadpanned, shrugging his shoulders while his eyebrow lifted playfully at you.

“you could’ve just asked me to hand you some, you know.” you were doing anything in your power to avoid his gaze. or better yet, the sight of his glistening skin. “i’m sure i could’ve found everything for you in no time.”

definitely faster than how long he was taking anyways.

“oh, so you just wanted to rummage through my drawers then,” he said, finally grabbing a pair of underwear and sweats. “nasty girl.”

you gasped at his accusation, hand slapping over your mouth. “i literally never said that,” you whined, dropping your phone on the bed and sitting straight with your hands covering your face, nails close to digging in your eyebrows at just how humiliated you were starting to feel.

“okay, then i have to assume you don’t like the view.”

you made the mistake of snapping up your head towards him to deny this accusation too, coming face to face with his back.

and well, entire naked butt as he was putting his grey boxers on.

you shrieked, dropping your entire body back on on the bed, catching his attention and making him burst out laughing at your dramatics.

you felt the mattress dip as he put one knee on the bed, his hands coming down to grab your legs to manhandle you underneath him.

you let your eyes wander down to his broad chest again, muscles tightening under the shakes of his full fledged laughs. they slowly but surely started to die down, his shoulders no longer shaking. he quirked his head to the side in silence as he stared at your reddened face. you were once again avoiding eye contacts at all cost, focused on his midriff.

“you like them that much?” he teased, a toothy smirk on his face as he tightened the muscles of his torso to enhance the shape.

“oh my god, lee heeseung, please put some clothes on,” you begged, finally meeting his eyes, surprised to find his pupils blown out beyond what you had ever seen them be.

he kept his eyes on you, enamored with the way your eyes flickered down involuntarily to his lips every so often, rosy tongue peeking out to wet your own pouty ones.

he gently cradled your cheek in his palm, searching for any hint of actual discomfort in your gaze, the other arm keeping him hovering over you.

“can i kiss you?” he asked suddenly, his voice dripping with lust.

you felt like time stopped for a few moments. your breath was stuck in your throat and you thought you couldn't form any comprehensible sounds to save your life, but proved yourself wrong when you let out neediest please you could have ever mustered up, speaking before you even registered the word leaving your mouth.

his soft lips crashed on yours in an instant, desperate right off the bat as he sneaked a hand up your shirt to caress the overheated skin of your waist, his cold touch sending shivers down your belly to your core.

he pinched you lightly and the sudden pain made you yelp, leaving enough room for his tongue to sneak in your mouth, sensually lapping at your own.

despite the initial rush, he slowed down, deciding instead to take his time savoring your sweet taste.

he took note of the way your thighs pressed against each other under him, and he roughly grabbed a fistful of your plush skin to push your legs apart. you gasped and took a moment to regain your breath, chest heaving up and down from the feverish kiss.

once he made enough room for himself between your thighs, he lowered his body flush against yours and ground his throbbing, clothed cock against your core —pretty panties on full display since the skirt you wore rode up from all the movement. you threw your head back at the contact you were desperately wishing for, a strangled moan leaving your raw lips.

he kept grinding against you, his mouth latching on your neck— a messy trail of spit following in its wake, starting from your clavicle and finding its rest behind your ear.

“please, hee, fuck.” you slid one of your hands in his hair, pulling a few strands and eliciting from him the sexiest moan you had ever heard in your life, his teeth moving to gently nip your earlobe.

“please what, baby,” he panted hotly against your ear, voice raspy and lower than usual. “please put your clothes on?” he mocked you, a sly grin overtaking his features as he slowly moved to stand up.

“no no, hee please touch me,” you begged pathetically, grabbing his hand to stop him from standing up.

a second passed before he pushed your body forward on the bed once again, lowering himself so his face was close to your clothed cunt, the fabric glued to your skin from how drenched you were.

"so wet from just a little kissing and grinding," he snickered, breath fanning over your mound. “touch you where?” he let his head rest on one of your thighs, gaze flicking up to you to hold eye contact as he spoke. “tell me what’s in that pretty little head of yours and i promise i will make it all come true.”

[kookiekult]

Chesticle Photo Dump

Pinterest: Kookiekult / go follow me or else

[iutdwae]

— toned.

pairing. bangchan x (afab)reader

cw. thigh / ab riding, size kink and mutual pining if you squint, hints of sub!chan, chan is so desperate when it comes to your pleasure </3 poor baby comes in his pants ><  friends to… something..? kinda pwop because i'm sleepy and i just really love the idea of grinding on chan's abs :<

word count. 1.5k

[ i had to come out of my 3 year tumblr writing hiatus because this has been on my mind for so long, and that picture that changbin had posted of his back did not help at all… ] 

chan's rapid change of physique came to no one's surprise. given his role as an idol, you knew how much he valued being "presentable," to be the visually strong leader of a group of equally strong men. he'd started to spend more time at the gym, and in return, his build had more of an effect on you than you liked to admit: competent abs, the firm muscle lining his torso. the way his skin dips and curves, begging to be seen whenever he lifts his shirt up "innocently," but you swear it's an invitation every time.

suggestive complaints spilled from his plump lips about how sore his body is from his training earlier, the sweat still drying on him as the musk lingers. he's tempting and he knows he is, sleeves rolled up to accentuate his broad shoulders. his arms bulged as they cross over his body. "it's still hot," he excuses, but you know he wants you to take note of the way his veins texture his skin.

yet chan has the audacity to act flustered when you compliment the muscle he's worked so hard for. it's his routine, even in front of the camera: show off just to hide behind his fingers, that familiar red tint flushing his cheeks. but it's obvious he's putting on a front this time. he wants you to need him, too prideful to take you for himself. he's purposely stretching his body upwards, skillful in how he lets a sultry groan fall from his tongue while the hem of his black shirt rides up his waist to expose his defined v line, tantalizingly disappearing into the fabric of his sweatpants. 

he has the audacity to act smug when you find yourself hopelessly rubbing against his clothed thigh, perched on top of him while your fingers ghost the lines of his abs. one of your hands grasps at his shoulders, nails digging into his delicate skin as one of his own rests gently on your hips, feeling the way you roll against him. his shirt had long been discarded, courtesy of your desperation as well as his discreet eagerness. 

"you're so beautiful, princess," he coos lowly, brows furrowed and eyes hazy as he watches your expression. his cock is straining against his pants, just as sore as he claimed his body was, and you can physically feel how wet your pussy is each time you rock your hips forward. "y'like getting off knowing i'm all yours, don't you?" 

you'd never had a preference for body type, but chan's build seemed to break you as you watched it develop; squirming at the mentions of his measurements, wide shoulders with a pretty waist, perfectly sectioned abs adorning his stomach. it was something about him in particular that had you craving him. he was nothing short of a gentleman, respectful and ideal. the type of man you knew your parents would approve of immediately. chris is careful with his words, knows exactly what to say and when to assure everyone he's acquainted with knows that he is no hassle.

perhaps, in some sinister, perverted fashion, it's his pleasantries that had you thinking of your best friend in ways that were animalistic in more ways than one. you caught onto every single one of his innuendos, all of the subtle gestures that you interpreted as bait, that made you wonder how tainted his mind was behind his polite and polished demeanor. watching him carry the weight of his members around on stage with nothing more than a soft breath, you couldn't help but let your mind wander, would he be able to manhandle you with that same ease?

soon enough, he'd slipped your pants off, though instead of settling back onto his thigh, you were straddling his torso, sore cunt draped right on top of his abs. chan let out a guttural whimper at the feeling of wet heat sliding across his stomach, clit catching along the dips of his muscle that sent static down your spine; both of you are sensitive, him in ways he couldn't really explain. "fucking love your pussy, baby," he gasped, dark eyes peering up longingly through long lashes. although there’s no pressure against his waist, he bucks up anyway, rutting his hips into thin air to counteract your own motions. large hands grasp your hips, thighs, ass, anything chan can reach from where he’s leaning back against the couch. “you’re so pretty getting off on me.” he’s desperate to feel more of you, latching onto any skin he can grope, his palms roaming aimlessly around your frame as they dip in and out from underneath your shirt. 

meanwhile, you’re just as lost in the moment as the male is: hips stuttering as you grind down on his stomach, his hardened abs providing the perfect amount of pressure and rigidness that your cunt practically cried for. the soft pants that escaped your mouth matched chan’s rhythmically, whines coated with lust and neediness. you hadn’t been far from the truth, at least it didn’t feel like it when your best friend was just as turned on, grunting as he tried to nudge his clothed erection against you. 

chan still upheld his chivalrous personality, even when his dick was painfully straining on his pants; he didn’t dare disrupt your chase towards your orgasm, moaning lowly as he watched your brows cinch, eyes clamped shut with your mouth gaped open. “gonna come all over me, huh?” he breathed out, sweat beading at his temple. the way your pussy slipped so easily along his abs made him dizzy, sopping wet and sticky against his skin. it was so much more than what he always imagined when he fucked himself into his hand, drunk on the way you used his body like this was what he’d worked so hard for—for you to come all over the muscle he trained for months to develop, leaving red streaks under your nails along his defined back and grasping onto him as roughly as he was groping you. 

you could feel his abdomen tensing between your legs, laying more of your weight onto the male as your thrusts became more fervid and sloppy. your clit was caught right between the ridges of his abs, rocking back and forth as wanton cries fell from your lips to echo his own. with the way you were fucking yourself onto him, he would’ve assumed you were just making up for a lack of proper pleasure; though in reality, you’d just been thinking about how he’d fuck you since the very beginning of your friendship. 

“channie, i’m so close,” you barely manage in the midst of your cries, the sound of your pussy lathering his skin in wetness loud enough for the both of you to hear. what you can’t see behind you is the obvious tent in chan’s pants, going unnoticed for the time being. it’s carnal and shameful the way you’re getting off on each other, his desperate attempts to fuck against you leaving him looking like a dog in heat all while your hips move rapidly on his torso. 

his grasp tightened on your hips, guiding you as he pushes your weight further down onto him, and he’s rewarded by the loud gasp you let out as your body shudders. “come on me, princess. show me how good i make you feel.” chan’s sitting upwards now, his touch trailing up your sides as his eyes never leave you for a second. one hand, thankfully, makes its way between your thighs, his finger rubbing at your clit and he almost moans out loud at how wet you feel under his touch. “c’mon, i’m all yours, baby. let it out.” 

what chan doesn’t expect is for himself to come too, immediately after watching your orgasm seep into the lines of his muscles, pussy fluttering and red at the sudden stimulation. he can feel his own cum pressed against the tip of his cock, staining the front of his pants with a relieved groan. and he can feel the slight burn of the scratches you left on his back while you’re coming down from your high in the security of his large arms. you can only mumble sniffled thank you’s to him while he holds you right against his chest, though he can’t help but rut up against you while you’re properly situated on his lap now. “you did so well for me, pretty,” he reassured you right into your ear, hoping you were too distracted to notice the way he was still trying to grind his cock against you. but the feeling of his wet sweatpants was unmistakable against your bare cunt. you’d speculated that chan had pretty good stamina, and it seemed to prove right when he’s eagerly sliding his sweats off to properly show you just how good he can make you feel.

[kurooh]

you’re ceo nanami kento’s pretty little secretary.

in the mornings, you bring him coffee and stacks of papers for him to sign off on; in the afternoon (his favorite time of day), you head into his office to give him his lunch — a sandwich from a nearby shop and the sweet snack between your legs.

“come on, kento,” you purr, egging him on by pulling on his tie while you spread your legs.

“someone’s impatient,” your boss remarks, kissing down your body and chuckling against your stomach. “enough squirming, sweetheart.”

“you know i can’t help it,” is your whiny excuse just before he pins your twisting hips down with both hands. “quit teasing, you’re using up your lunch break.”

“fine, fine,” he’s unbothered, nipping your skin on the way down to your pussy. the two of you were simply too caught up with closing the door and getting into position on his desk to remember all your clothes . .

“kento!” you exclaim the moment you hear the loud ripping of fabric from between your legs. “you’ve completely mangled it, how am i supposed to go around the office?”

with a roll of his hazel eyes, kento tosses the pantyhose over his shoulder, lips tilting up into a smile. “you wanted me to hurry up, hm? you look gorgeous without them anyway.”

your cheeks warm, and you look away shyly.

“sweetheart,” he licks up the length of your pussy before hungrily going for your clit. you moan, turning to face him with hooded eyes. “i want you to watch me while i eat my lunch, okay?”

“yes, boss,” is your hushed response, his least favorite title outside of when you use it during sex.

a sudden heat flashes through kento’s body, and he sucks his clit into his mouth and his eyes meet yours, filling the air with a thick tension.

“good girl,” he praises you lowly, his voice sending shocks of pleasure through every inch of your body. when your eyes close, he pulls back from your needy cunt.

“tsk, what’d i tell you about keeping your eyes on me?”

[cvnt4him]

Think ab it, shoyou hinata coming back from Brazil desperate and needy for his one true love. Hes been waiting and yearning to get home so he can hold you and kiss you and bite you and shit like the little gremlin he is. Except, he's no longer little.... He's gotten a tad bit taller and had a sweet little tan going on. It suits him so well, looking at his tan lines compliment his skin so nicely. It's so fucking sexy bro. Urgh n thinking ab the way he'd hold you and breath in your scent, all of it going straight to his cock. He gives you a quick squeeze before kissing you passionately, taking away all of your breath from your body. He lets out little moans throughout the kiss, holding the back of your head and dipping you slightly as he swipes his tongue across your bottom lip. For the quick second he breaks away to take a breath, within an instant he hoists you up in his arms and slams you down on the couch, getting ready to claim your body again after all these years.

but erm yk, hinata shoyou 😞

[unscharf-an-den-raendern]

[coryosbaby]

ᴅᴏʟʟ ᴘᴀʀᴛꜱ

Enoch O’Connor x angel! Reader <3

“Enoch! Give it back!”

Your citrine voice echoes throughout Miss Peregrine’s Orphanage as you chase the dark haired boy down. In his hands is your favorite doll, cracked but still beautiful, one Enoch had brought to life for you in the wee hours of the night many (of the same) days ago. He stomps angrily through the house, his jaw clenched, large back muscles flexing. Ignoring the squirming of the doll— aka, Mary— and her annoyed kicks, he tears open the door of his room and slams it right in your face.

How rude he is! All you had wanted to do was have tea with him and show him your new book. He had snapped at you, snarkily said something about “the both of you being too old for tea parties” and that he had more important things to do then do something so childish. You had snapped back, hurt from his words, and he had stolen Mary from you.

You don’t understand how he can be so cruel. His mood changes like the seasons— one minute he’s got a small smile on his usually dull face as he listens to you speak, making you toys that live and breathe. And then the next, it’s like you’re satan spawn.

You rest your back against his bedroom door, pouting. Tears begin to well in your eyes. You just wanted to show him your new book.

It isn’t long before you’re wiping your face and strolling towards Claire’s room. She lets you rant about your book without fuss, fascinated by all the tales that you had enamored yourself with. She also cheers you up about Enoch.

“He’s just in one of his moods,” she explained. A frown had formed on both of her faces, even when the one on the back of her head was gnawing on a chocolate chip cookie. “You know how he can get. He’ll cheer up and apologize, like he always does. Besides, he knows how important Mary is to you. He’ll give her back, I’m sure of it.”

You wonder how a child so young can be so intelligent about such things. But you guess that’s what happens when you relive the same day over and over for fifty years. You learn things, and in a way, still grow mentally.

After your talk with Claire, you feel better. You bid her goodbye, say hi to Emma as you pass her, and wander down the halls barefoot in your flowing pink dress. You make your way to the library for a new book to read.

To your distaste, Enoch is sitting at the couch when you walk through the door. You let out a little “hhm” sound, stomping angrily to the shelves. He’s got his head in a textbook about anatomy and looks up from it at the sound of your voice. He scoffs, then looks back down at it again.

Your fingers skim over book titles, some pretty and dainty, some horrific and covered in fine, dark print. You decide to pick a book by William Shakespeare— A Midsummer Night’s Dream. You scratch your feathered wings, beginning to read the book as you make your way back out of the room.

You pause at the door when Enoch’s voice makes way through your thoughts.

“You’ve read that one,” he murmurs, as his eyes scan over you.

You waver, hand staying on the doorknob.

“I didn’t know you remembered that.” you reply. You had read it years ago. Or, what you presume to be years ago. If you can even count time here.

“You recited it to me.” he shrugs, taking a glance over at your wings. They always fascinate him, even after all of this time.

“I know what I did, Enoch,” you retort, not having much logic in your sentence. But when do you ever? “Don’t tell me what I’ve done. You don’t have a right.”

“What sense does that make?” He questions snarkily, but you’re already out the door.

—

Dinner goes without much fuss. Miss Peregrine looks at the two of you questionably, wondering why you didnt take your usual seat beside Enoch, but doesn’t mention it out loud. After the reset you head back to your room and immerse yourself in A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Your lace nightgown drapes down your body in silky waves.

Your shoulders are tensed, your feet tapping nervously. You’re used to Mary’s porcelain feet dancing across the hardwood floors, her tiny giggles as she looks at herself in the mirror. Usually at this time of night, you and the doll will lay awake in the dark, huddled under your ruffled pink comforter, and whisper to each other. It’s the only way you can go to sleep— Enoch had made her to help with your nightmares, after all. Your nightmares of children with no heads, monsters that pluck out children’s eyes in their sleep. Your nightmares of losing the people you love.

How could he be so cruel?

That anger flares up again. With a forceful hand, you slam the book down onto your desk and stalk across the hallway. Your knuckles rap against Enoch’s door ferociously, and when he finally opens it you force your way into his room with curses spilling off of your tongue.

“I don’t understand, Enoch!” Your wings seem to glow a dusty red hue from your rage. “I’m nothing but nice to you! I help you with your experiments, I try to be your friend, but at this point I don’t know if anyone could ever..“

You stop dead in your tracks. Enoch’s eyes dart to his work table, as if he was caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. You look across to it.

There, sitting happily, all fixed up, is Mary.

She has a smile on her painted face, and a new dress adorning her. Shes cleaned, polished, and almost looks brand new. All the cracks that were once on her porcelain skin have vanished.

“[y/n]!” The doll giggles excitedly, saying your name in words only you can hear. “Look what Enoch made for me! Isn’t it pretty?”

You gape as Mary happily twirls in her dress. Enoch clears his throat.

“She was filthy,” he mutters. “You should really start cleaning your things. It tracks dirt and grass all over the house.”

Turning to him, your stomach racks with guilt.

“You fixed her for me?”

He shrugs, avoiding your gaze, acting nonchalant.

“I’ve been meaning to for a while. It was quite annoying, watching her face caked with dirt everyday. And her dress was practically torn to shreds.”

You pick Mary up from the table, holding her in the palms of your hands. You press a kiss to her hair. The doll yawns.

“I’m tired,” she mumbles. “Can’t we sleep now?”

“In a moment,” you reply. “Why don’t you go to my room and wait up for me?”

She looks between you and Enoch, does that off putting giggle that would make anyone else uncomfortable, but not you. She hops down from your fingertips, and skips away to your room across the hall.

You hear Enoch’s bedroom door close behind you once she’s gone, and jump. The familiar raven haired boy brushes past you, taking a seat in his chair. His curls fall into his face, and usually you would move them away while he silently grumbled at you not to touch them. But right now, it’s different. You rock on the balls of your feet as silence fills the dark space.

“Enoch—“ you start, but the boy picks up a scalpel and throws one of his toys onto the table.

“I need the jar of hearts on the third shelf.”

It’s all he says, and you know that this is his way of saying he’s sorry. It’s an odd way, but it’s a way you’ve picked up on continuously. The boy doesn’t have the mouth to utter an apology, so he just brings things back to normal instead.

You scamper over to the shelves, picking out the jar he wanted, and sit it down beside him. A small smile grazes your lips, and you sit on the chair that he had put there just for you. He works silently, and his bottom lip pulls in between his teeth. You think it’s quite enamoring— sort of like your books.

Your mouth can’t seem to contain itself, and within minutes you’re speaking up again.

“Thank you,” you say. “I’m sorry. I should’ve—“

“It’s my fault,” he replies. “I…I shouldn’t have came off so brash.”

Without thinking, your hand brushes up against his.

“It’s alright,” you explain. “I forgive you, even though you haven’t said you’re sorry. But I know you are.”

He pauses. He can’t help but trail his eyes down to where your hands meet. You smile up at him, and he adjusts in his seat.

You kiss him.

You don’t know why you do, exactly. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, like you’re something special. But your lips meet, and it’s sweet. Innocent, really— a small peck. His eyes are wide when you pull away from him.

“What was that?” He asks.

Your wings turn baby pink, and a grin spreads across your face.

“I just felt like it.”

[thesecretw0rld-blog]

How do we feel about black and white pics?